Title: A Wonderful Day
Author: Simply Kim
Pairing: None. (Badou-centric)
Fandom: Dogs
Word Count: 489
Genre: Filler. (A bit of) Humour.
Disclaimer: The series Dogs and all its incarnations are owned by Miwa Shirow. Only this piece of fan fiction is mine.
NOTE#1: Blah or Blah is for emphasis. /Blah/is for conversations over the phone or flashbacks (if any). /Blah/ is for the conscience or whatever inner voice there is talking. Blah is for thoughts or random Japanese words.
A WONDERFUL DAY
"This is not teamwork."
Badou Nails groused, gritting his teeth in irritation. He had already told his selfish partner that he was terrible mano-a-mano, but seeing where he was now, for the umpteenth time this month alone, he knew his words fell into deaf ears. Honestly, he preferred spying. After all, being a former private investigator, sneaking around was what he did best.
Sighing, he hung his head and stood before the rusting red gates of what seemed to be a huge seedy warehouse. He felt small with the ugly thing looming over him. A shiver ran up his spine at the mere thought of infiltrating the place.
And he was going through the front too.
As always.
Oh, this was so wrong in so many levels.
A small bead of sweat slipped down his temple and he swallowed - hard. "Why do I always get the cruddy jobs?" He muttered inwardly. "You're the 'un-killable' one, bastard..."
As per usual, he was the decoy.
Wheee.
What a wonderful job he had.
At this time of day too.
He swallowed past the lump in his throat. It felt dry. He licked his chapped lips and wondered if he should have taken Bishop's suggestion of quitting smoking and getting some chapstick. He thought about it seriously for quite some time, but he just couldn't get past the idea of living a life without nicotine. To him, it was a huge handicap. Like chopping off an arm, in fact. As ridiculous as it sounded, his gut said it true.
But then again, his gut said way, way back that he'd be in a great position when doing jobs with his current partner.
He sighed irritably.
What a wonderful gut feeling he had.
Yay.
Again, he gulped anxiously. His throat felt terribly scratchy. His fingers twitched as if in response. "Not only do I get the cruddy jobs, he takes away my smokes too." He muttered some more, ill-will seeping into his nervousness.
At least it was doing him some good.
He gripped his guns and took a deep... cleansing breath.
It really feels so clean.
His nasal passages felt empty, and slowly, the feeling started crawling into his brain. He felt light-headed. And whenever he felt light-headed...
Something inside him snapped.
With renewed vigour, with adrenaline coursing through his veins, he let out a war cry and kicked the gates forcibly open. His guns blazed as he desperately shot at the gathering crowd of evil-looking thugs.
"This isn't teamwork you bastard! And gimme my cigs back!" He cried out angrily, eyes slits of death, twinkling insanely under the dim light of the early morning sun.
In the back of his mind... he counted the seconds until he would be able to smoke in peace.
The sooner he finished the job, the sooner he got paid - the sooner he'd be able to get his first cigarette of the day.
Damn you Haine!
ENDE
A/N: First Dogs fic. Ahahahaha. XD Feedbacks are greatly appreciated! :)