Another Drabble
Nov. 8th, 2006 11:42 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dethoratsPrompt: Something Like Love
Pairing: Shanks and Ben
Rating: PG
Word Count: 681
“Idiot.”
Separated by iron bars, the somewhat shabby interior of the local jail, a wall of anger, and yet another miscommunication, the two men still managed to utter the word in unison. Inside the holding cell, Shanks picked up the rusty tin cup that had held some stale water and threw it at the wall. It didn’t even leave a smudge on the thick stone let alone make a dent and it fell to the ground with a distinctively unsatisfying rattle. The redhead glared at it and contemplated getting up from the lumpy thin mattress beneath his rear to retrieve it. But his head was throbbing and, if anything, throwing the damn thing away had made him angrier. Stupid Ben. It was all his fault anyway.
Outside of the jail, Ben leaned against the rickety railing that lined one side of the few steps leading to the front door and counted his money. There wasn’t very much left at all now that he’d paid off the bartender and the aggrieved farmer and the irritated baker. Certainly he didn’t think there’d be enough to bribe the jailer let alone pay off all the fines Shanks would have accumulated after last night. It was his money too, the last of the savings he’d had when he first set sail with the younger man, and he’d planned on using it to help them out of the rather tight – and poor – spot they found themselves in. But that moron had gone and ruined everything. It didn’t help that he stubbed his toe going up the stairs.
Shanks didn’t bother to look up when he heard the door creak open. It would either be one of the jail keepers come back to laze away at their desks or else Ben come to rub his nose in. He hated the way the older man said ‘I told you so,’ especially when he didn’t actually say it out loud. Those dark eyebrows would knit ever so slightly and brown eyes would somehow harden and look upset at the same time and worst of all, there would be that tiny unconscious headshake of disappointment. What was he? Some child to be scolded by a parent? Where did Ben get off anyway, judging him? He was the captain and if Ben didn’t like the decisions he made, then he could just leave.
Ben sighed when he saw the pouting redhead in the corner cell. Shanks hadn’t bothered to look at him and he couldn’t deny that he was relieved. At the moment he wasn’t sure just what he’d say or do to the man who was supposed to be his captain but it wouldn’t be nice. There was a shifty-eyed officer sitting with his feet up on his desk by the entrance and Ben turned his attention to him. They bartered with quiet voices, the guard’s gaze flitting constantly between Ben and the man in the cell. Finally Ben slammed his hands down on the desktop and swore.
“That’s outright robbery, you weaselly bastard.”
Before the jailer had time to respond, Ben had slipped his rather large and heavy gun free from his side. The heavy oak and iron end tapped the man none too lightly on the temple and the guard slumped over onto his desk, coffee spilling rather conveniently across Shanks’ arrest papers. From the cell came a hastily muffled cheer, Shanks crossing his arms and looking away in a huff as Ben approached with the keys.
“And you call me a no account barbarian.”
Ben had the grace to flush slightly as he flung open the door. “That’s what you get for making me a pirate,” he said finally. “Now get your hungover irresponsible ass out of there so we can leave before anyone else shows up.”
“Jerk.”
Shanks punched Ben on the arm and shoved past him. The older man swatted him upside the head in return. “Ungrateful brat.”
Trading insults, they sauntered out the jail and even had time for one last mug of grog before they had to make a break for the ship.
Pairing: Shanks and Ben
Rating: PG
Word Count: 681
“Idiot.”
Separated by iron bars, the somewhat shabby interior of the local jail, a wall of anger, and yet another miscommunication, the two men still managed to utter the word in unison. Inside the holding cell, Shanks picked up the rusty tin cup that had held some stale water and threw it at the wall. It didn’t even leave a smudge on the thick stone let alone make a dent and it fell to the ground with a distinctively unsatisfying rattle. The redhead glared at it and contemplated getting up from the lumpy thin mattress beneath his rear to retrieve it. But his head was throbbing and, if anything, throwing the damn thing away had made him angrier. Stupid Ben. It was all his fault anyway.
Outside of the jail, Ben leaned against the rickety railing that lined one side of the few steps leading to the front door and counted his money. There wasn’t very much left at all now that he’d paid off the bartender and the aggrieved farmer and the irritated baker. Certainly he didn’t think there’d be enough to bribe the jailer let alone pay off all the fines Shanks would have accumulated after last night. It was his money too, the last of the savings he’d had when he first set sail with the younger man, and he’d planned on using it to help them out of the rather tight – and poor – spot they found themselves in. But that moron had gone and ruined everything. It didn’t help that he stubbed his toe going up the stairs.
Shanks didn’t bother to look up when he heard the door creak open. It would either be one of the jail keepers come back to laze away at their desks or else Ben come to rub his nose in. He hated the way the older man said ‘I told you so,’ especially when he didn’t actually say it out loud. Those dark eyebrows would knit ever so slightly and brown eyes would somehow harden and look upset at the same time and worst of all, there would be that tiny unconscious headshake of disappointment. What was he? Some child to be scolded by a parent? Where did Ben get off anyway, judging him? He was the captain and if Ben didn’t like the decisions he made, then he could just leave.
Ben sighed when he saw the pouting redhead in the corner cell. Shanks hadn’t bothered to look at him and he couldn’t deny that he was relieved. At the moment he wasn’t sure just what he’d say or do to the man who was supposed to be his captain but it wouldn’t be nice. There was a shifty-eyed officer sitting with his feet up on his desk by the entrance and Ben turned his attention to him. They bartered with quiet voices, the guard’s gaze flitting constantly between Ben and the man in the cell. Finally Ben slammed his hands down on the desktop and swore.
“That’s outright robbery, you weaselly bastard.”
Before the jailer had time to respond, Ben had slipped his rather large and heavy gun free from his side. The heavy oak and iron end tapped the man none too lightly on the temple and the guard slumped over onto his desk, coffee spilling rather conveniently across Shanks’ arrest papers. From the cell came a hastily muffled cheer, Shanks crossing his arms and looking away in a huff as Ben approached with the keys.
“And you call me a no account barbarian.”
Ben had the grace to flush slightly as he flung open the door. “That’s what you get for making me a pirate,” he said finally. “Now get your hungover irresponsible ass out of there so we can leave before anyone else shows up.”
“Jerk.”
Shanks punched Ben on the arm and shoved past him. The older man swatted him upside the head in return. “Ungrateful brat.”
Trading insults, they sauntered out the jail and even had time for one last mug of grog before they had to make a break for the ship.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-11-08 04:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-13 10:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-08 05:07 pm (UTC)I'm sure they'll have make up sex later on. ;3
no subject
Date: 2006-11-13 10:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-13 04:38 pm (UTC)