Title: Sink of Justice
Author: Perpetual Motion
Fandom: Keen Eddie
Pairing: Eddie/Monty
Rating: G
Summary: Eddie, a doctor, and a kitchen sink. [Somewhat of a sequel to "Toaster of Truth"].
Dis: Not mine. Lied.
Author’s Notes: Consider this the 3-minute sequel to “Toaster of Truth”. [This is, of course, for
impulsedriven, word #68.]
Sink of Justice
By Perpetual Motion
“What seems to be the problem, Mr. Arlette?”
“Detective.”
“Excuse me?” The doctor looked up from his chart with confusion.
“I’m a Detective.” Eddie was pissed. If he had to call someone by a title, he felt that he was owed the same. “It’s Detective Arlette.”
The doctor nodded once. “All right. Then what’s the problem, Detective?”
“I had a kitchen sink dropped on my foot.” Eddie shifted the ice pack on his foot. “I think it’s broken.”
The doctor walked over and lifted the ice bag. He prodded gently at the bruise in the middle of Eddie’s foot and nodded. “I think you may be right. We’ll have to get an X-ray.”
“Fine.”
The doctor made a note in the chart and flipped back a page. His brow furrowed at what he read. “Mr-Excuse me-Detective Arlette, were you in our trauma center two months ago for stitches?”
Eddie grimaced, but it wasn’t from pain. “Yes.”
“We have it here that you were hit with a toaster. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
The doctor gave Eddie a look. “Do your kitchen appliances have a grudge against you?”
Eddie slanted a look at Monty, who was looking guilty in the corner. “No, but certain people have slippery fingers.”
Monty held up his hands. “Total accident this time, dude. I swear.”
Author: Perpetual Motion
Fandom: Keen Eddie
Pairing: Eddie/Monty
Rating: G
Summary: Eddie, a doctor, and a kitchen sink. [Somewhat of a sequel to "Toaster of Truth"].
Dis: Not mine. Lied.
Author’s Notes: Consider this the 3-minute sequel to “Toaster of Truth”. [This is, of course, for
Sink of Justice
By Perpetual Motion
“What seems to be the problem, Mr. Arlette?”
“Detective.”
“Excuse me?” The doctor looked up from his chart with confusion.
“I’m a Detective.” Eddie was pissed. If he had to call someone by a title, he felt that he was owed the same. “It’s Detective Arlette.”
The doctor nodded once. “All right. Then what’s the problem, Detective?”
“I had a kitchen sink dropped on my foot.” Eddie shifted the ice pack on his foot. “I think it’s broken.”
The doctor walked over and lifted the ice bag. He prodded gently at the bruise in the middle of Eddie’s foot and nodded. “I think you may be right. We’ll have to get an X-ray.”
“Fine.”
The doctor made a note in the chart and flipped back a page. His brow furrowed at what he read. “Mr-Excuse me-Detective Arlette, were you in our trauma center two months ago for stitches?”
Eddie grimaced, but it wasn’t from pain. “Yes.”
“We have it here that you were hit with a toaster. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
The doctor gave Eddie a look. “Do your kitchen appliances have a grudge against you?”
Eddie slanted a look at Monty, who was looking guilty in the corner. “No, but certain people have slippery fingers.”
Monty held up his hands. “Total accident this time, dude. I swear.”
no subject
on 2005-07-10 04:43 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2005-07-10 08:49 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2005-07-12 02:30 pm (UTC)You rule. You are evil, and you rule. I now have this image of someone from the British equivalent of Social Services - or, no! Even better! We have this thing called the Gay Men's Domestic Violence Project; obviously, it's for gay men in abusive relationships. There has to be something comparable in London, right? So someone at the hospital calls them and reports Eddie coming in all the time, and they think it's an abusive relationship...and they start hanging around, ambushing Eddie outside home & work whenever Monty's not around, trying to get him to admit Monty abuses him and to "seek help"... bwah hah hah.
no subject
on 2005-07-12 02:40 pm (UTC)