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asphaltcowgrrlTitle: Always Prepared
Fandom: Romani Detective original fiction
Pairing: Andrej Zeklos/James Rosewood/Zayne Reyes
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,042
Summary: While looking for something Zayne uncovers a series of suspicious items in Andrej’s sock/underwear drawer.
Author’s Notes: Written for the weekend challenge at 1_million_words. My first set of prompts was: Scenario setter: Found in a drawer - A stack of passports, five grand in cash tied with rubber bands, a handgun.
“What the hell?” Zayne pushed a pair of balled up socks to the side and stared into the drawer, unable to make sense of what his eyes were showing him. “Zek, baby? Can you come here?”
“He’s elbow deep in your dinner, cowboy,” James said, poking his head into the bedroom. “What the hell are you doing in Andy’s sock drawer?”
Zayne shot a look at James and frowned. “I was borrowing a pair of socks,” he said.
“Do you not have socks of your own,” the redhead asked, coming fully into the bedroom. “I mean, I think even as broke as you tend to be, you could afford a new package of socks.”
“I have socks, narco,” Zayne sighed. “I just don’t have any clean ones. Come here, this is what I’m so confused about.”
James stood behind Zayne, looking down over the Texan’s shoulder. “What am I missing?”
“This,” Zayne said, grabbing a pair of scandalous underwear he’d never seen Zeklos wear and tossing them to the side.
Leaning closer, James scrunched his face up. “Is that –”
“A handgun? Yeah.” Zayne moved to the side so James would stop breathing on his neck. Any other time, he wouldn’t mind a little hot, wet hair on his skin, but he needed to focus. “That part I get,” he said, pointing at the gun. “But why on earth would he have his passport and a stack of cash in his sock drawer?”
“Maybe it’s his getaway fund,” James chuckled. “God only knows, I’d have one, too, if you were my partner.”
“You’re such an asshole,” he said, not completely meaning it.
“You needed me, Zayne?”
Dragging his eyes off the odd scene in the drawer, Zayne looked at Andrej while pointing at the pile of socks he’d created. “Can you explain this to me?”
Zeklos followed the direction Zayne’s hand was pointing in and shrugged. “It is my backup pistol,” he said.
“And you keep it in your sock drawer under a pair of undies?” Zayne glanced at James before turning back to Zek. “Is that really safe?”
“It’s not like we have kids in the house, Reyes,” James pointed out. “Unless there’s something we need to talk about here.” He made a vague gesture towards Zayne’s exceptionally flat belly.
“Very funny, narco,” Zayne mocked. “So, what about the rest of this shit? A passport – no, wait, three passports – and a stack of cash?” He leaned in and picked up the smaller stack of bills. “Hell, this shit ain’t even US dollars.”
Zeklos scowled and grabbed the bills out of Zayne’s hands. “They’re lei,” he said, stuffing them back into the drawer.
“Why the hell do you have that much Romanian currency in your sock drawer, Andy?”
It was a legit question, Zayne thought, but the look on Zek’s face was saying something else. “You planning on jumping ship or something?”
“A better question is why does he have two passports?” James raised his brows and gave Andrej a look.
“Not that it is particularly any business of either of you, but I convert a small portion of each check into leu. It has been my practice since I first came to America.” He rubbed the back of his neck with a hand, worried about something. “I never knew how long I would be able to stay…”
“So you wanted ready cash in case you had to leave suddenly,” James said, nodding. “Makes sense.”
“But you’re not planning on going home, are you?”
“No, Zayne, I am not,” Andrej assured him.
“So, why so much fucking lei?” Zayne snapped the rubber band holding the bills together.
“I’ve been sending it, a little at a time, home to my family.” Zek held his hands out, palms up, as if he were begging them to understand. Reyes didn’t need any urging, he got it. “They don’t have much and I help as much as I can.”
“You’re a good brother,” James said, giving him a one-armed hug. “Now fess up about the passports because that’s suspicious.”
Sighing, Andrej reached into the drawer and pulled out the small stack of passports. The top one had a red cover while the other two were forest green. “This,” he said, holding up the top one, “is mine. It should be in my safe but…” he shrugged. “These,” he held up the two with the green covers, “belonged to my parents. I did not even know they had passports until after my father passed. I found them while helping Alina sort through our father’s things. I brought them home with me.”
“Why are the names on them different,” James asked, taking one of the green covered passports from Andrej.
“Those were issued while Romania was still under communist rule. Mine was issued later, after.”
After what, Zayne wasn’t sure, but judging by the look on Zeklos’ face, he shouldn’t ask. “Okay, so you’re not an international spy, that’s a relief.”
“You are such an idiot,” James laughed. “That leaves the pile of cash. The lei only makes up about a third of the pile in your drawer. What’s the rest for?”
“Emergencies,” Andrej said, looking away from them both.
“What kind of emergencies,” Zayne asked, making Andrej look up at him. “You have a credit card and more than enough cash in your bank account to cover just about anything. Why the – what do you think, narco? How much is there?”
“Five grand at least,” James said, giving the pile of US currency an appraising glance.
Andrej looked at the money in the drawer and then at James. “How do you know how much is there by looking?”
James grinned. “Lots and lots of experience with piles of drug money.”
“You two exhaust me,” Andrej muttered. “Are you done interrogating me because if you want to eat tonight, I need to get dinner in the oven.”
“Yeah,” Zayne said. “I was just concerned that you were planning an escape or something.”
“I still might be,” Andrej said, exiting the bedroom and heading for the kitchen.
“Please tell me he’s kidding, narco,” Zayne said, grasping James’ arm tightly.
He looked towards the door Andrej had disappeared through. “I wish I could, cowboy, but I’m not sure he was.”
Fandom: Romani Detective original fiction
Pairing: Andrej Zeklos/James Rosewood/Zayne Reyes
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,042
Summary: While looking for something Zayne uncovers a series of suspicious items in Andrej’s sock/underwear drawer.
Author’s Notes: Written for the weekend challenge at 1_million_words. My first set of prompts was: Scenario setter: Found in a drawer - A stack of passports, five grand in cash tied with rubber bands, a handgun.
“What the hell?” Zayne pushed a pair of balled up socks to the side and stared into the drawer, unable to make sense of what his eyes were showing him. “Zek, baby? Can you come here?”
“He’s elbow deep in your dinner, cowboy,” James said, poking his head into the bedroom. “What the hell are you doing in Andy’s sock drawer?”
Zayne shot a look at James and frowned. “I was borrowing a pair of socks,” he said.
“Do you not have socks of your own,” the redhead asked, coming fully into the bedroom. “I mean, I think even as broke as you tend to be, you could afford a new package of socks.”
“I have socks, narco,” Zayne sighed. “I just don’t have any clean ones. Come here, this is what I’m so confused about.”
James stood behind Zayne, looking down over the Texan’s shoulder. “What am I missing?”
“This,” Zayne said, grabbing a pair of scandalous underwear he’d never seen Zeklos wear and tossing them to the side.
Leaning closer, James scrunched his face up. “Is that –”
“A handgun? Yeah.” Zayne moved to the side so James would stop breathing on his neck. Any other time, he wouldn’t mind a little hot, wet hair on his skin, but he needed to focus. “That part I get,” he said, pointing at the gun. “But why on earth would he have his passport and a stack of cash in his sock drawer?”
“Maybe it’s his getaway fund,” James chuckled. “God only knows, I’d have one, too, if you were my partner.”
“You’re such an asshole,” he said, not completely meaning it.
“You needed me, Zayne?”
Dragging his eyes off the odd scene in the drawer, Zayne looked at Andrej while pointing at the pile of socks he’d created. “Can you explain this to me?”
Zeklos followed the direction Zayne’s hand was pointing in and shrugged. “It is my backup pistol,” he said.
“And you keep it in your sock drawer under a pair of undies?” Zayne glanced at James before turning back to Zek. “Is that really safe?”
“It’s not like we have kids in the house, Reyes,” James pointed out. “Unless there’s something we need to talk about here.” He made a vague gesture towards Zayne’s exceptionally flat belly.
“Very funny, narco,” Zayne mocked. “So, what about the rest of this shit? A passport – no, wait, three passports – and a stack of cash?” He leaned in and picked up the smaller stack of bills. “Hell, this shit ain’t even US dollars.”
Zeklos scowled and grabbed the bills out of Zayne’s hands. “They’re lei,” he said, stuffing them back into the drawer.
“Why the hell do you have that much Romanian currency in your sock drawer, Andy?”
It was a legit question, Zayne thought, but the look on Zek’s face was saying something else. “You planning on jumping ship or something?”
“A better question is why does he have two passports?” James raised his brows and gave Andrej a look.
“Not that it is particularly any business of either of you, but I convert a small portion of each check into leu. It has been my practice since I first came to America.” He rubbed the back of his neck with a hand, worried about something. “I never knew how long I would be able to stay…”
“So you wanted ready cash in case you had to leave suddenly,” James said, nodding. “Makes sense.”
“But you’re not planning on going home, are you?”
“No, Zayne, I am not,” Andrej assured him.
“So, why so much fucking lei?” Zayne snapped the rubber band holding the bills together.
“I’ve been sending it, a little at a time, home to my family.” Zek held his hands out, palms up, as if he were begging them to understand. Reyes didn’t need any urging, he got it. “They don’t have much and I help as much as I can.”
“You’re a good brother,” James said, giving him a one-armed hug. “Now fess up about the passports because that’s suspicious.”
Sighing, Andrej reached into the drawer and pulled out the small stack of passports. The top one had a red cover while the other two were forest green. “This,” he said, holding up the top one, “is mine. It should be in my safe but…” he shrugged. “These,” he held up the two with the green covers, “belonged to my parents. I did not even know they had passports until after my father passed. I found them while helping Alina sort through our father’s things. I brought them home with me.”
“Why are the names on them different,” James asked, taking one of the green covered passports from Andrej.
“Those were issued while Romania was still under communist rule. Mine was issued later, after.”
After what, Zayne wasn’t sure, but judging by the look on Zeklos’ face, he shouldn’t ask. “Okay, so you’re not an international spy, that’s a relief.”
“You are such an idiot,” James laughed. “That leaves the pile of cash. The lei only makes up about a third of the pile in your drawer. What’s the rest for?”
“Emergencies,” Andrej said, looking away from them both.
“What kind of emergencies,” Zayne asked, making Andrej look up at him. “You have a credit card and more than enough cash in your bank account to cover just about anything. Why the – what do you think, narco? How much is there?”
“Five grand at least,” James said, giving the pile of US currency an appraising glance.
Andrej looked at the money in the drawer and then at James. “How do you know how much is there by looking?”
James grinned. “Lots and lots of experience with piles of drug money.”
“You two exhaust me,” Andrej muttered. “Are you done interrogating me because if you want to eat tonight, I need to get dinner in the oven.”
“Yeah,” Zayne said. “I was just concerned that you were planning an escape or something.”
“I still might be,” Andrej said, exiting the bedroom and heading for the kitchen.
“Please tell me he’s kidding, narco,” Zayne said, grasping James’ arm tightly.
He looked towards the door Andrej had disappeared through. “I wish I could, cowboy, but I’m not sure he was.”
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Date: 2017-04-24 03:59 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2017-04-25 11:00 pm (UTC)Um wait, sorry. I know the feeling though.