This week’s prompts were: fast, sentence, speaker, lot, and image.
I know I’ve been missing from this for a few weeks (months?) but hopefully I can get back to doing this more regularly.
Zayne glared at the retreating figure. The judgement had been made; the sentence had come fast. A single word rang in his ears – womanizer – echoing even as the speaker walked away. Man-whore is what she had meant.
“Do not listen to her,” Andrej said, giving a pat to his partner’s arm.
Frowning, Zayne glared at his partner – both in work and in life. “How can I not? She’s going to tell everyone in the station that I’m sneaking around on my boyfriend. With a woman!”
Andrej raised an eyebrow. “You were entrenched in a very messy relationship with a very messy woman when we met as I remember.”
“Hey now,” Zayne said, pointing a finger at Andrej. “Hil’s not messy.”
“You were not with Hilary, Zayne,” Andrej said. He went back to flipping through the calendar that forensics had brought up to him. It had been dusted for prints, tested for DNA, the whole nine yards, and now it was his to peruse for hopefully pertinent information.
“Who was I with then?”
Andrej paused, one latex covered hand resting on the date – March 8, 2008 – and shook his head. “You do not remember?”
“Babe, that was like fifteen years ago,” Zayne said. “If it wasn’t Maxwell, then I have no dang idea who it was.”
“Maybe that unpleasant image the women in this building have of you is not all that wrong after all.”
“And to think I gave it all up for you,” he scoffed.
“You gave it all up for a clean house to live in and home cooked meals,” Hilary said, sliding into the chair behind her desk.
“Not funny, Hil,” Zayne grumbled.
“It’s a little funny,” Trish said, coming in on Hilary’s heels. “Not to mention true.”
“How do you put up with this lot,” Zayne asked Andrej, waving a hand at the women.
“I spend all day with you, Zayne,” he said, turning his attention back to the day planner in his hand, “and I have not murdered you yet. They are easy.”
“You’re lucky I both love you and need you,” Zayne muttered, not wanting to admit how accurate Zeklos’ response was.
“We,” Andrej said, stressing the one word, “are lucky to have one another. However, I might be even luckier if you could help me out here?” He motioned towards Zayne with the planner he still held.
“Fine, I’ll help,” Zayne said, exaggerating each word. He pulled the box of evidence towards him and pulled out an address book. “I mean, if it gets me noodles later.”
“Is that code for things I don’t want to know about,” Trish asked, side-eyeing Zayne.
“No,” Andrej sighed. He flipped a page in the planner. “It is a blatant attempt to get more udon out of me this week.”
“Nah,” Zayne said, sitting back in his chair, address book open in front of him. “I could go for some penne in vodka sauce right now.”
Andrej sighed again.
“Who knew Zayne could think with something other than his –”
“Trish,” Andrej said, stopping her before she could embarrass him. Or, rather, before she could embarrass him more.
Snorting, the redhead got up and looked in the box on Zayne’s desk. “You two need some help with this?”
“Please,” Zayne said, pleading with his eyes. “I don’t want to be here all night.”
“We’re between cases, so tell us what you’re looking for and we’ll see if we can get you two out of here on time tonight.” Trish lifted the box and moved it onto her desk.
“We are not likely to find our answers tonight,” Andrej said, turning yet another page, “however, it might help us find it before the end of the millennium.”
“And people say he doesn’t have a sense of humor,” Zayne teased. “Okay, first one to find anything significant buys dinner.”
“Wait,” Trish said. “I thought Andy was making us diner.”
“I am now making everyone dinner?” He shook his head, a smile creeping onto his face. As annoying as it was to be the one expected to always feed everyone, he did love feeding his friends a carefully made meal. “If that is the case, we had better pack up all of the items and bring them over to my house. It will be midnight before we get dinner if we stay here.”
“Good idea, baby,” Zayne said, approving of getting his dinner earlier than he’d anticipated. “Has to be less boring that way, too.”
“I’ve got the box,” Hilary said.
“I’ll get the wine,” Trish added.
“I guess I’ve got Zek, then,” Zayne added. “Since he’s got dinner.”
“What I have,” Andrej said, trying not to laugh, “is a group of freeloaders mooching dinner off me. But that is okay, too.”
“Admit it,” Trish said, giving him a huge grin as she moved past, “you love it. And us.”
“You are right,” he said, unable to maintain his grumpy demeanor. “I am not sure why, but you are correct. Half an hour?”
The girls nodded. “Hopefully less, if Rollins here can make a wine choice that quickly.”
“Shut up,” Trish said, heading out of the bullpen and into the main hall. “I know exactly what I want.”
Zayne took the box from Hilary before she could disappear with it. As soon as she and Trish were out of sight, he turned to Andrej. “Do you really think wine is a good idea? I mean, aren’t we working?”
“We are,” Andrej said, opening the door to the outside for Zayne. “However, if she brings one bottle, we will be fine. One between the four of us is not enough to impede our investigation.”
“And if she brings two?”
Andrej gave him a look that said it all.
“Right,” Zayne said, nodding. “Tomorrow is another day.”
Laughing, Andrej unlocked the car and waited while Zayne put the box in the trunk. “That is not exactly what I was getting at, however, it will work for now.” Because if he knew Trish, she’d not stop at just one bottle. But he could deal with that when the time came. “First, before we worry about Trish and wine, we need to get groceries. Are you ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” Zayne said. “Bring on the pasta.”