asphaltcowgrrl (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
asphaltcowgrrl) wrote2015-06-13 01:57 pm
asphaltcowgrrl) wrote2015-06-13 01:57 pm
Entry tags:
Cross My Palm with Silver (Romani Detective Original Fic)
Title: Cross My Palm with Silver
Fandom: Romani Detective Original Fiction
Pairing: Andrej Zeklos + Zayne Reyes
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,420
Summary: Reyes is toying with an old coin which leads to an unexpected revelation about his partner.
Author’s Notes: Square number 4 for my bingo card. I love exploring Zeklos’ Romani heritage and using some of the seemingly pointless knowledge I've gathered over the years. Hopefully you enjoy learning about it as well.
“What are you playing with, Reyes?” Zeklos reached out and touched his partner’s arm, stilling his twiddling fingers.
“This?” Reyes held up a semi-round piece of metal, turning it side to side. “I don’t know. The victim’s mother gave it to me when I told her we’d gotten the man who’d killed her daughter. She said it was a token of appreciation. It looks like it’s a coin of some sort, but I couldn’t tell you from where.”
The item itself was misshapen, like it had been hand crafted, and looked to be made of silver. Andrej leaned over and turned Reyes’ hand so he could get a better look. It was definitely old, but he wasn’t certain just how ancient. “Interesting.”
“Take it,” Reyes said, holding it out.
Zeklos had learned at a very young age not to pick up random things he didn’t recognize. He’d first made the mistake at age five, when he’d found a broken doll lying near his family’s home. One second, he’d held the toy in his hands, the next he was waking up on the floor of their living room, unable to remember what had happened. His mother, grandmother and aunt had stood over him, watching warily.
“No,” Zeklos stammered, releasing his grip on his partner, “I don’t –”
But it was too late. Reyes dumped the antique coin into his palm.
Images filled his head, swirling and swarming and overpowering. Children roasting on spits, men and women impaled on long spikes. Dead animals and blood everywhere. The smell of rotting flesh invaded his nostrils and he gagged. Zeklos struggled to drop the coin, to stop the madness, but he was tied into the memories now, unable to break away.
With a gasp, his fingers finally, blessedly loosened and the coin fell to the table between them. Shaking, Zeklos pushed his chair back, face pale.
“Good god, Zek,” Reyes said, coming quickly to his partner’s side. “You okay? What the hell just happened?”
Cursing his Romani blood, Zeklos put his head into his hands, attempting to stop the room’s spinning. “Help me,” he whispered. “I need –”
“Need what, man,” Reyes asked, bracing his partner with a hand.
“Floor. Help me to the floor.” He didn’t trust himself to remain upright in his chair much longer.
If there was one thing Reyes got props for, it was his unconditional trust in Zeklos. Without batting an eye, Reyes helped his partner onto the floor, settling him into a corner so that Zek’s back was framed by two walls. He stood, staring at the detective for long moments. “You gonna live?”
Zeklos nodded and lost his balance, catching himself against Reyes’ leg. The dizziness that came after such a strong vision was the worst. “It’s a Romanian coin,” he said, waving off Reyes’ concern. “Wallachian, to be precise. Early to mid-1400’s. Please, put it somewhere where I’ll never have to touch it again.”
Zayne grabbed Zeklos’ chair and brought it near its owner. Sitting down, he rested his forearms on his thighs and stared hard at his partner. “Are you going to tell me what the hell all of that was about?”
Holding up a hand, Zeklos silently asked for patience. When he felt like he could look his partner in the eye without falling over, he did. There wasn’t anything but concern and a hint of curiosity in those jade colored eyes. How much to tell him though? Reyes was open-minded and trusted Zeklos to tell the truth, but how open-minded was he?
“You know about me,” Zek started, not sure how to proceed. “About my… heritage?”
Zayne flicked a glance at the coin on the table and nodded. Zeklos didn’t discuss it much, but every now and then, he’d tell a story or two.
“According to my mother, rest her soul, I got the talent from my grandmother.” Zek shook his head at the memory, not having thought about his family in a while. “It doesn’t happen every time, but occasionally, when I touch something – or even someone,” he clarified, looking at Reyes’ confused face, “I see things.”
“Dead people,” Reyes joked.
Zeklos smiled at his goofy partner. “No, but things attached to the person who owned the item. It’s called psychometry and has been used by my people, the Romani, for ages. ‘Cross my palm with silver’ they’d say before giving a reading. It was less about payment than it was for getting an early read on the person looking for guidance. I don’t know who owned this coin, but I can safely say they were not a nice person.” He had his suspicions, but telling Reyes that he thought it had belonged to either Vlad III or one of his cronies would only open up a discussion that would never end.
“You said this happens when you touch people, too?” Reyes gave him an inquisitive look.
Shrugging, he tried to brush it off. “Sometimes, but very rarely. I’m more likely to get a reading off an object. But it has happened.”
“It happened the first time you ever touched me, didn’t it?”
He could see the realization in Reyes’ eyes. Zayne was right, too. They’d been partners for only a very short time back then, but Reyes had slipped and, unthinking, Zek had reached out to help him up. “Yes, it did.”
“What did you see?” A line formed between Reyes’ two dark eyebrows, marring his handsome face with apprehension.
A smile crossed Andrej’s face and the worry line left Reyes’ forehead. “A happy child living in a land of sun and overgrown grass. There was a stern woman with kind eyes and a man with a crooked grin and gentle hands.” Zeklos paused, thinking back to that day. “I also remember a Labrador puppy and a horse named Joe.”
Reyes blinked. “You got all that from such a brief touch?”
Zeklos shrugged again. “Mother always said it was strong in me. But pleasant visions seem to flow easier than the other kind.”
“I guess this is why you avoid touching people, isn’t it?” Reyes was still watching him, monitoring his reactions.
“Exactly, although it doesn’t always work.” It was rather difficult to apprehend a suspect without touching them, especially in the desert where idiots liked to run around half naked. Zeklos left as much of the physical contact as he could to Zayne.
“Is it always this bad though?” Reyes tilted Zek’s chin upwards, giving him a thorough once over. “Your color’s coming back at least.”
“Thanks,” Zeklos said, rubbing his hands over his cheeks. “No, not unless there is a lot of negative energy attached to the item. In this case, there was an overwhelming amount of it. So much bok.” Bad luck. Andrej wiped his hands on his pants, wishing he could erase the feel of the coin from his skin. Briefly, he touched the spot where his protective talisman rested inside his pocket. Lifting his hand in the air, Zeklos waggled his fingers. “Help me up?”
“Of course.” Reyes stood and took Zek’s hand in both of his and drew his partner to his feet. “Feeling better?”
“Yes, thanks. Now put that thing away, please.” Zeklos glanced at the coin and shivered. “Better yet, get rid of the damn thing.”
Under normal circumstances, Reyes might have argued with him. Instead, he nodded and tossed the coin – probably worth several thousand dollars – into the trash. Money lost was preferable to the avoidance of evil things. “Let someone else play with bok. We need – what is it?”
“Kushti bok,” Zeklos said the ever-present Romanian accent thickening around the words. “Good luck.”
“Right,” Reyes said, slinging an arm around Zeklos’ shoulders, giving him an added bit of support. “But just in case it wants to follow us, you got some kind of magic you can whip out and protect us with?”
Chuckling, Zeklos shook his head. “Doesn’t exactly work that way,” he said. “But I’ve got something in reserve, in case we need it.”
Reyes didn’t question him. “Well, what I need right now, my little Romani, is food. And I think you could use a little something, too. What do you say?”
“I say that sounds good,” Zeklos agreed. “But you ought to drive. Just in case.”
Slipping his hand into his pocked, Zeklos’ fingers curled around the thin circle of metal he carried everywhere. Happy, pleasant thoughts filled him, things he’d impressed upon the talisman when he’d created it. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. For now.
Fandom: Romani Detective Original Fiction
Pairing: Andrej Zeklos + Zayne Reyes
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,420
Summary: Reyes is toying with an old coin which leads to an unexpected revelation about his partner.
Author’s Notes: Square number 4 for my bingo card. I love exploring Zeklos’ Romani heritage and using some of the seemingly pointless knowledge I've gathered over the years. Hopefully you enjoy learning about it as well.
“What are you playing with, Reyes?” Zeklos reached out and touched his partner’s arm, stilling his twiddling fingers.
“This?” Reyes held up a semi-round piece of metal, turning it side to side. “I don’t know. The victim’s mother gave it to me when I told her we’d gotten the man who’d killed her daughter. She said it was a token of appreciation. It looks like it’s a coin of some sort, but I couldn’t tell you from where.”
The item itself was misshapen, like it had been hand crafted, and looked to be made of silver. Andrej leaned over and turned Reyes’ hand so he could get a better look. It was definitely old, but he wasn’t certain just how ancient. “Interesting.”
“Take it,” Reyes said, holding it out.
Zeklos had learned at a very young age not to pick up random things he didn’t recognize. He’d first made the mistake at age five, when he’d found a broken doll lying near his family’s home. One second, he’d held the toy in his hands, the next he was waking up on the floor of their living room, unable to remember what had happened. His mother, grandmother and aunt had stood over him, watching warily.
“No,” Zeklos stammered, releasing his grip on his partner, “I don’t –”
But it was too late. Reyes dumped the antique coin into his palm.
Images filled his head, swirling and swarming and overpowering. Children roasting on spits, men and women impaled on long spikes. Dead animals and blood everywhere. The smell of rotting flesh invaded his nostrils and he gagged. Zeklos struggled to drop the coin, to stop the madness, but he was tied into the memories now, unable to break away.
With a gasp, his fingers finally, blessedly loosened and the coin fell to the table between them. Shaking, Zeklos pushed his chair back, face pale.
“Good god, Zek,” Reyes said, coming quickly to his partner’s side. “You okay? What the hell just happened?”
Cursing his Romani blood, Zeklos put his head into his hands, attempting to stop the room’s spinning. “Help me,” he whispered. “I need –”
“Need what, man,” Reyes asked, bracing his partner with a hand.
“Floor. Help me to the floor.” He didn’t trust himself to remain upright in his chair much longer.
If there was one thing Reyes got props for, it was his unconditional trust in Zeklos. Without batting an eye, Reyes helped his partner onto the floor, settling him into a corner so that Zek’s back was framed by two walls. He stood, staring at the detective for long moments. “You gonna live?”
Zeklos nodded and lost his balance, catching himself against Reyes’ leg. The dizziness that came after such a strong vision was the worst. “It’s a Romanian coin,” he said, waving off Reyes’ concern. “Wallachian, to be precise. Early to mid-1400’s. Please, put it somewhere where I’ll never have to touch it again.”
Zayne grabbed Zeklos’ chair and brought it near its owner. Sitting down, he rested his forearms on his thighs and stared hard at his partner. “Are you going to tell me what the hell all of that was about?”
Holding up a hand, Zeklos silently asked for patience. When he felt like he could look his partner in the eye without falling over, he did. There wasn’t anything but concern and a hint of curiosity in those jade colored eyes. How much to tell him though? Reyes was open-minded and trusted Zeklos to tell the truth, but how open-minded was he?
“You know about me,” Zek started, not sure how to proceed. “About my… heritage?”
Zayne flicked a glance at the coin on the table and nodded. Zeklos didn’t discuss it much, but every now and then, he’d tell a story or two.
“According to my mother, rest her soul, I got the talent from my grandmother.” Zek shook his head at the memory, not having thought about his family in a while. “It doesn’t happen every time, but occasionally, when I touch something – or even someone,” he clarified, looking at Reyes’ confused face, “I see things.”
“Dead people,” Reyes joked.
Zeklos smiled at his goofy partner. “No, but things attached to the person who owned the item. It’s called psychometry and has been used by my people, the Romani, for ages. ‘Cross my palm with silver’ they’d say before giving a reading. It was less about payment than it was for getting an early read on the person looking for guidance. I don’t know who owned this coin, but I can safely say they were not a nice person.” He had his suspicions, but telling Reyes that he thought it had belonged to either Vlad III or one of his cronies would only open up a discussion that would never end.
“You said this happens when you touch people, too?” Reyes gave him an inquisitive look.
Shrugging, he tried to brush it off. “Sometimes, but very rarely. I’m more likely to get a reading off an object. But it has happened.”
“It happened the first time you ever touched me, didn’t it?”
He could see the realization in Reyes’ eyes. Zayne was right, too. They’d been partners for only a very short time back then, but Reyes had slipped and, unthinking, Zek had reached out to help him up. “Yes, it did.”
“What did you see?” A line formed between Reyes’ two dark eyebrows, marring his handsome face with apprehension.
A smile crossed Andrej’s face and the worry line left Reyes’ forehead. “A happy child living in a land of sun and overgrown grass. There was a stern woman with kind eyes and a man with a crooked grin and gentle hands.” Zeklos paused, thinking back to that day. “I also remember a Labrador puppy and a horse named Joe.”
Reyes blinked. “You got all that from such a brief touch?”
Zeklos shrugged again. “Mother always said it was strong in me. But pleasant visions seem to flow easier than the other kind.”
“I guess this is why you avoid touching people, isn’t it?” Reyes was still watching him, monitoring his reactions.
“Exactly, although it doesn’t always work.” It was rather difficult to apprehend a suspect without touching them, especially in the desert where idiots liked to run around half naked. Zeklos left as much of the physical contact as he could to Zayne.
“Is it always this bad though?” Reyes tilted Zek’s chin upwards, giving him a thorough once over. “Your color’s coming back at least.”
“Thanks,” Zeklos said, rubbing his hands over his cheeks. “No, not unless there is a lot of negative energy attached to the item. In this case, there was an overwhelming amount of it. So much bok.” Bad luck. Andrej wiped his hands on his pants, wishing he could erase the feel of the coin from his skin. Briefly, he touched the spot where his protective talisman rested inside his pocket. Lifting his hand in the air, Zeklos waggled his fingers. “Help me up?”
“Of course.” Reyes stood and took Zek’s hand in both of his and drew his partner to his feet. “Feeling better?”
“Yes, thanks. Now put that thing away, please.” Zeklos glanced at the coin and shivered. “Better yet, get rid of the damn thing.”
Under normal circumstances, Reyes might have argued with him. Instead, he nodded and tossed the coin – probably worth several thousand dollars – into the trash. Money lost was preferable to the avoidance of evil things. “Let someone else play with bok. We need – what is it?”
“Kushti bok,” Zeklos said the ever-present Romanian accent thickening around the words. “Good luck.”
“Right,” Reyes said, slinging an arm around Zeklos’ shoulders, giving him an added bit of support. “But just in case it wants to follow us, you got some kind of magic you can whip out and protect us with?”
Chuckling, Zeklos shook his head. “Doesn’t exactly work that way,” he said. “But I’ve got something in reserve, in case we need it.”
Reyes didn’t question him. “Well, what I need right now, my little Romani, is food. And I think you could use a little something, too. What do you say?”
“I say that sounds good,” Zeklos agreed. “But you ought to drive. Just in case.”
Slipping his hand into his pocked, Zeklos’ fingers curled around the thin circle of metal he carried everywhere. Happy, pleasant thoughts filled him, things he’d impressed upon the talisman when he’d created it. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. For now.
no subject
This was lovely! I really enjoy when you explore the more supernatural aspects of Andy's past. And Reyes was so sweet, taking care of his partner without a second thought. Awesome! :DDD
no subject
Thank you so much! And I'm really happy you feel that way. I'm fascinated by the Romani culture and love working those little things into my writing. See, Zayne might be a jerk, but he does care for his partner. :)
no subject
Y'all stay cool out there!
no subject
Thanks!