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asphaltcowgrrlTitle: Donut Run
Fandom: Romani Detective original fiction
Pairing: Andrej Zeklos/James Rosewood/Zayne Reyes
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,931
Summary: It’s James’ turn to procure food. Who knew it’d be this difficult?
Author’s Note: Written for the weekend challenge at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
1_million_words. My random prompts were closed and stressed. Inspired by the amazing freaking donuts we discovered on Thanksgiving morning.
“Someone needs to get us breakfast,” Reyes said, stretching his arms over his head and into James’ face.
“I cooked your dinner,” Andrej replied, stifling a yawn.
“Well, I picked up lunch for us yesterday,” Zayne said, giving the redhead on his left a meaningful look.
“What?” James propped himself up on his elbows and looked at his boyfriends. His coppery hair stood up in wild cowlicks. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“It’s your turn, narco,” Zayne informed him, snuggling into the warmth of Andy’s side. “Now go get us some donuts.”
Glaring down at the Texan, James threw the covers off himself. “Fine. Any requests, cowboy? I’ll make sure I don’t get any of the ones you want.”
“Hey,” Zayne whined, rolling over to frown at the redhead. “That’s not very nice.”
“Jay,” Andrej interrupted quietly. “Please choose what we usually like. And Zayne’s right, it is your turn to supply food. I cannot always do it all.”
He couldn’t argue with that. Andy had made them breakfast and dinner yesterday, only getting a break because the cowboy wanted pizza for lunch. The more he thought about it, the less James wondered why Andrej didn’t push the issue of him moving in any longer. Feeding Reyes had to be enough work, why add another mouth to the mix? Putting his bare feet on the floor, James looked over his shoulder. “Either of you two lay abouts want coffee while I’m out?”
“Yeah,” Zayne said, eyes going wide. “Get me one of those –”
“A large cup of black coffee,” James interrupted. “Okay, Reyes, I can do that.”
Smiling, Andy held up a hand, stalling Zayne’s impending retort. “He only wants a simple latte, Jay. Milk and sugar, nothing fancy.”
“Okay,” James laughed, relieved that Reyes wasn’t after a half-caf, no foam 2 percent cappuccino or some other ridiculously pretentious drink. “I can manage that. And you?”
Andrej shook his head. “I do not need coffee. I will brew a pot.”
James made a mental note to grab Andy a cup of java as well. He’d never ask for something he could make himself, but there came a time when he shouldn’t have to always ask either. “Alright, let me get dressed and I’ll go.”
“I think your underwear are on the lamp,” Zayne mumbled before falling back asleep.
xx
He pulled his car into the spot directly in front of the nearest Dunkin Donuts, the place that Reyes always gravitated towards when he wanted fried dough. Although it was Sunday morning, the entire strip mall was quiet. There were only two other cars in the entire lot, both down near the little Mexican food joint with the city’s best breakfast burritos. For about four seconds, he contemplated ignoring Reyes’ demands for a donut and going to Roberto’s instead. “No,” he scolded himself. “You promised.” With a sigh, he turned his face forward and frowned when his eyes landed on a sheet of white paper taped to the entrance. “Oh no,” he groaned.
Dragging himself out of his car, James trudged to the locked doors and read the sign: CLOSED. NO POWER. SORRY FOR ANY INCONVENIENCE. WILL REOPEN TOMORROW.
“Sorry my ass,” James grumbled, getting back into his car. Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, his eyes drifted back towards Roberto’s. No, he needed donuts. If he returned home with anything else, the cowboy would accuse him of going somewhere else on purpose. Not that the thought hadn’t crossed his mind, but James knew he’d hear it from Andy, too. That, he didn’t want any part of this morning. So, where was the nearest donut shop?
James dug his phone out of his pocket and Googled donuts in the vicinity. The nearest place was four point seven miles from his present position. “Huh,” he said, looking at the map. “I didn’t even know that was there.” Tossing the phone onto the passenger seat, he pulled out of the parking lot and headed for stop number two on his quest for glorious fried dough.
xx
Although he’d never even heard of this place until five minutes ago, James knew the donuts were going to be the bomb from the moment he set foot inside. The air itself was infused with the scents of sugar and oil and it was heavenly. A plump, older woman greeted him as he entered, smilingly happily. There was another person ahead of him, so while the lady behind the counter finished with his order, James took some time to look over the bounty before him. There were the usual suspects – glazed, cake, sprinkles with both vanilla and chocolate icing, Boson cream – but then there were some very odd ones as well. Peanut butter and jelly. Key Lime pie. Something called The Nevadan. James leaned closer to the display case trying to decipher what was in that last one when the customer ahead of him raised his voice.
“So what now, there’s a law that I can’t make a small purchase with a big bill?”
The guy was holding a white paper bag in one hand and a hundred dollar bill in the other. He couldn’t have possibly bought more than two or three donuts and at less than a dollar a donut he would likely clean out her spare change in one fell swoop.
“Well, no but –”
“But nothing then, sweetheart,” he spat, slapping the bill down on the counter. “My change so I can go?”
“Look,” she said, trying for patient and kind rather than the rabid beast she must feel like at the moment. “I’m here all alone today and since it’s Sunday the banks are closed and –”
“And you should have thought about that yesterday,” he snarled, waggling his fingers in a gimme gesture. “My change?”
Sighing, she keyed in the amount paid and the cash drawer popped out. Slowly, she made a show of carefully counting his change before handing it over. Grunting, he grabbed the bills out of her hand and stormed out of the shop. Forcing a smile onto her face, she looked at James. “I’m sorry about that. I –”
“Don’t apologize,” he said, shrugging and sliding his badge out of his pocket. “You want me to have that jackass hauled out of here? I can make a call.”
The harassed woman’s cheeks turned red. “No, no, of course not but… I do appreciate the offer.” A genuine smile crossed her face then. “What can I get you, officer?”
He refrained from correcting her and pointing out that he was a detective. She probably dealt with enough self-important idiots during the week, he didn’t need to add to that number. “I need two dozen donuts,” James said, knowing as he said it that it was overkill. But, there were so many delicious looking things in the display that he didn’t think one dozen would be enough.
“For a skinny guy, you sure can eat a lot,” she chuckled, grabbing a box from the shelf behind her. “What’s first?”
Several minutes later, he walked out of the store with two boxes of donuts and a better feeling about the day. After paying for Reyes’ damn donuts, he’d tipped her the rest of the cash he’d had in his wallet – probably close to twenty bucks – but the woman had earned it. Securing the boxes in his car, he wandered into the Starbucks next to the donut shop and found himself directly behind Senior Dickhead from earlier.
“Great,” he muttered under his breath. James had the urge to text Andy his location and request backup, but only barely resisted. The last thing anyone needed was that hotheaded Texan facing off with the arrogant jerk in front of him.
And they said redheads had a quick temper.
“What can I get for you today, sir,” the young barista asked as the asshole approached the counter.
“I’d like a venti quad latte, breve, with two sugars and four pumps of vanilla.”
“Okay,” she said, grabbing a cup and a marker. “One venti four shot breve vanilla latte with two sugars. Anything else?”
“That’s not what I ordered,” he barked.
“But it was?” The barista looked to the girl next to her for help. “You asked for –”
“I know what I asked for,” he shouted, placing both hands on the counter and leaning forward. “And that wasn’t it.”
James grabbed the guy by his shoulder and pulled him away from the counter. Spinning around, the man aimed his gaze towards James. “Who the hell do you think you are, asshole? Coming in here, touching me like that?”
Repressing the urge to roll his eyes, James withdrew his badge and held it in front of the fuming man. It was a rare occasion that he ever had to show his shield on a day off and now he’d been forced to pull it out twice, once to reassure someone and again to shut someone up. Next time, Reyes could starve.
“Metro,” James said, as evenly as he could. “And dude, don’t push me because I have a gun and a crazy Texan on speed dial. Now either calmly tell the young lady what your correct order is or get the hell out of here. Because if you yell at her one more time, I’m calling for reinforcements.”
He looked from James to the barista and back again. “Whatever,” he growled. “A man can’t even get a cup of coffee without being harassed these days. What a crappy world this has become. Forget the latte. Hope you’re happy you lost them a sale and tip.”
James kept his hand near his weapon until he was certain the troublemaker was gone. Sighing in relief, he turned to the barista and apologized.
“Don’t,” she said, smiling. “He’s in here every day and always treats us like crap. And that tip he said you were cheating us out of? It’s nonexistent. The cheapskate never tips.”
“Well, I do,” James said, winking. “Now, what I would like today is…”
xx
“Damn, narco,” Zayne teased when James finally arrived back at Andy’s. “Where’d you go for that coffee? Columbia?”
“Yeah, cowboy,” James snorted. “I’m planning on writing it off as a work related trip. You know, checking out all the would-be dealers?”
Rolling his eyes, Zayne took the tray of drinks and headed into the kitchen.
“You were gone a long time, Jay,” Andy said from behind him.
“Yeah, I know, and I’m sorry. It’s a long story, but I’m home and I am not leaving until you force me to return to the land of the living.”
Kissing James’ cheek, Andrej chuckled. “I did offer you a place to stay,” he said, giving the redhead’s arm a squeeze before pulling away. “But you told me no.”
He stood in the kitchen, holding both boxes of donuts and frowning. James wasn’t sure if that was a hint, a joke, or a scolding. Whatever it was, it had hit him in a spot he hadn’t expected. Maybe it was time to take the next step in this wacked out relationship of theirs.
“Hey ginger, you coming in here with those donuts or do I have to come out there and kick your ass to get one?”
Or… maybe not.
“Hold your goddamned horses, Reyes. I’m coming.” Shifting the donuts into a steadier position, he marched into the kitchen to feed his boys. It was the only way to shut the cowboy up that didn’t require sexual favors. And for the moment, food was definitely a higher priority.
Fandom: Romani Detective original fiction
Pairing: Andrej Zeklos/James Rosewood/Zayne Reyes
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,931
Summary: It’s James’ turn to procure food. Who knew it’d be this difficult?
Author’s Note: Written for the weekend challenge at
1_million_words. My random prompts were closed and stressed. Inspired by the amazing freaking donuts we discovered on Thanksgiving morning.“Someone needs to get us breakfast,” Reyes said, stretching his arms over his head and into James’ face.
“I cooked your dinner,” Andrej replied, stifling a yawn.
“Well, I picked up lunch for us yesterday,” Zayne said, giving the redhead on his left a meaningful look.
“What?” James propped himself up on his elbows and looked at his boyfriends. His coppery hair stood up in wild cowlicks. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“It’s your turn, narco,” Zayne informed him, snuggling into the warmth of Andy’s side. “Now go get us some donuts.”
Glaring down at the Texan, James threw the covers off himself. “Fine. Any requests, cowboy? I’ll make sure I don’t get any of the ones you want.”
“Hey,” Zayne whined, rolling over to frown at the redhead. “That’s not very nice.”
“Jay,” Andrej interrupted quietly. “Please choose what we usually like. And Zayne’s right, it is your turn to supply food. I cannot always do it all.”
He couldn’t argue with that. Andy had made them breakfast and dinner yesterday, only getting a break because the cowboy wanted pizza for lunch. The more he thought about it, the less James wondered why Andrej didn’t push the issue of him moving in any longer. Feeding Reyes had to be enough work, why add another mouth to the mix? Putting his bare feet on the floor, James looked over his shoulder. “Either of you two lay abouts want coffee while I’m out?”
“Yeah,” Zayne said, eyes going wide. “Get me one of those –”
“A large cup of black coffee,” James interrupted. “Okay, Reyes, I can do that.”
Smiling, Andy held up a hand, stalling Zayne’s impending retort. “He only wants a simple latte, Jay. Milk and sugar, nothing fancy.”
“Okay,” James laughed, relieved that Reyes wasn’t after a half-caf, no foam 2 percent cappuccino or some other ridiculously pretentious drink. “I can manage that. And you?”
Andrej shook his head. “I do not need coffee. I will brew a pot.”
James made a mental note to grab Andy a cup of java as well. He’d never ask for something he could make himself, but there came a time when he shouldn’t have to always ask either. “Alright, let me get dressed and I’ll go.”
“I think your underwear are on the lamp,” Zayne mumbled before falling back asleep.
xx
He pulled his car into the spot directly in front of the nearest Dunkin Donuts, the place that Reyes always gravitated towards when he wanted fried dough. Although it was Sunday morning, the entire strip mall was quiet. There were only two other cars in the entire lot, both down near the little Mexican food joint with the city’s best breakfast burritos. For about four seconds, he contemplated ignoring Reyes’ demands for a donut and going to Roberto’s instead. “No,” he scolded himself. “You promised.” With a sigh, he turned his face forward and frowned when his eyes landed on a sheet of white paper taped to the entrance. “Oh no,” he groaned.
Dragging himself out of his car, James trudged to the locked doors and read the sign: CLOSED. NO POWER. SORRY FOR ANY INCONVENIENCE. WILL REOPEN TOMORROW.
“Sorry my ass,” James grumbled, getting back into his car. Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, his eyes drifted back towards Roberto’s. No, he needed donuts. If he returned home with anything else, the cowboy would accuse him of going somewhere else on purpose. Not that the thought hadn’t crossed his mind, but James knew he’d hear it from Andy, too. That, he didn’t want any part of this morning. So, where was the nearest donut shop?
James dug his phone out of his pocket and Googled donuts in the vicinity. The nearest place was four point seven miles from his present position. “Huh,” he said, looking at the map. “I didn’t even know that was there.” Tossing the phone onto the passenger seat, he pulled out of the parking lot and headed for stop number two on his quest for glorious fried dough.
xx
Although he’d never even heard of this place until five minutes ago, James knew the donuts were going to be the bomb from the moment he set foot inside. The air itself was infused with the scents of sugar and oil and it was heavenly. A plump, older woman greeted him as he entered, smilingly happily. There was another person ahead of him, so while the lady behind the counter finished with his order, James took some time to look over the bounty before him. There were the usual suspects – glazed, cake, sprinkles with both vanilla and chocolate icing, Boson cream – but then there were some very odd ones as well. Peanut butter and jelly. Key Lime pie. Something called The Nevadan. James leaned closer to the display case trying to decipher what was in that last one when the customer ahead of him raised his voice.
“So what now, there’s a law that I can’t make a small purchase with a big bill?”
The guy was holding a white paper bag in one hand and a hundred dollar bill in the other. He couldn’t have possibly bought more than two or three donuts and at less than a dollar a donut he would likely clean out her spare change in one fell swoop.
“Well, no but –”
“But nothing then, sweetheart,” he spat, slapping the bill down on the counter. “My change so I can go?”
“Look,” she said, trying for patient and kind rather than the rabid beast she must feel like at the moment. “I’m here all alone today and since it’s Sunday the banks are closed and –”
“And you should have thought about that yesterday,” he snarled, waggling his fingers in a gimme gesture. “My change?”
Sighing, she keyed in the amount paid and the cash drawer popped out. Slowly, she made a show of carefully counting his change before handing it over. Grunting, he grabbed the bills out of her hand and stormed out of the shop. Forcing a smile onto her face, she looked at James. “I’m sorry about that. I –”
“Don’t apologize,” he said, shrugging and sliding his badge out of his pocket. “You want me to have that jackass hauled out of here? I can make a call.”
The harassed woman’s cheeks turned red. “No, no, of course not but… I do appreciate the offer.” A genuine smile crossed her face then. “What can I get you, officer?”
He refrained from correcting her and pointing out that he was a detective. She probably dealt with enough self-important idiots during the week, he didn’t need to add to that number. “I need two dozen donuts,” James said, knowing as he said it that it was overkill. But, there were so many delicious looking things in the display that he didn’t think one dozen would be enough.
“For a skinny guy, you sure can eat a lot,” she chuckled, grabbing a box from the shelf behind her. “What’s first?”
Several minutes later, he walked out of the store with two boxes of donuts and a better feeling about the day. After paying for Reyes’ damn donuts, he’d tipped her the rest of the cash he’d had in his wallet – probably close to twenty bucks – but the woman had earned it. Securing the boxes in his car, he wandered into the Starbucks next to the donut shop and found himself directly behind Senior Dickhead from earlier.
“Great,” he muttered under his breath. James had the urge to text Andy his location and request backup, but only barely resisted. The last thing anyone needed was that hotheaded Texan facing off with the arrogant jerk in front of him.
And they said redheads had a quick temper.
“What can I get for you today, sir,” the young barista asked as the asshole approached the counter.
“I’d like a venti quad latte, breve, with two sugars and four pumps of vanilla.”
“Okay,” she said, grabbing a cup and a marker. “One venti four shot breve vanilla latte with two sugars. Anything else?”
“That’s not what I ordered,” he barked.
“But it was?” The barista looked to the girl next to her for help. “You asked for –”
“I know what I asked for,” he shouted, placing both hands on the counter and leaning forward. “And that wasn’t it.”
James grabbed the guy by his shoulder and pulled him away from the counter. Spinning around, the man aimed his gaze towards James. “Who the hell do you think you are, asshole? Coming in here, touching me like that?”
Repressing the urge to roll his eyes, James withdrew his badge and held it in front of the fuming man. It was a rare occasion that he ever had to show his shield on a day off and now he’d been forced to pull it out twice, once to reassure someone and again to shut someone up. Next time, Reyes could starve.
“Metro,” James said, as evenly as he could. “And dude, don’t push me because I have a gun and a crazy Texan on speed dial. Now either calmly tell the young lady what your correct order is or get the hell out of here. Because if you yell at her one more time, I’m calling for reinforcements.”
He looked from James to the barista and back again. “Whatever,” he growled. “A man can’t even get a cup of coffee without being harassed these days. What a crappy world this has become. Forget the latte. Hope you’re happy you lost them a sale and tip.”
James kept his hand near his weapon until he was certain the troublemaker was gone. Sighing in relief, he turned to the barista and apologized.
“Don’t,” she said, smiling. “He’s in here every day and always treats us like crap. And that tip he said you were cheating us out of? It’s nonexistent. The cheapskate never tips.”
“Well, I do,” James said, winking. “Now, what I would like today is…”
xx
“Damn, narco,” Zayne teased when James finally arrived back at Andy’s. “Where’d you go for that coffee? Columbia?”
“Yeah, cowboy,” James snorted. “I’m planning on writing it off as a work related trip. You know, checking out all the would-be dealers?”
Rolling his eyes, Zayne took the tray of drinks and headed into the kitchen.
“You were gone a long time, Jay,” Andy said from behind him.
“Yeah, I know, and I’m sorry. It’s a long story, but I’m home and I am not leaving until you force me to return to the land of the living.”
Kissing James’ cheek, Andrej chuckled. “I did offer you a place to stay,” he said, giving the redhead’s arm a squeeze before pulling away. “But you told me no.”
He stood in the kitchen, holding both boxes of donuts and frowning. James wasn’t sure if that was a hint, a joke, or a scolding. Whatever it was, it had hit him in a spot he hadn’t expected. Maybe it was time to take the next step in this wacked out relationship of theirs.
“Hey ginger, you coming in here with those donuts or do I have to come out there and kick your ass to get one?”
Or… maybe not.
“Hold your goddamned horses, Reyes. I’m coming.” Shifting the donuts into a steadier position, he marched into the kitchen to feed his boys. It was the only way to shut the cowboy up that didn’t require sexual favors. And for the moment, food was definitely a higher priority.
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no subject
Date: 2016-11-27 06:11 am (UTC)I see you caught the donut plot bunny.
no subject
Date: 2016-11-27 07:17 pm (UTC)Hah. Yes, I did! Told you he'd come back. :)