Author's Note: Well, after than insane amount of drabbling in one night I took a short break. And I mean short, lol. Here's more drabbling from yours truly!
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Title: Shooting Up
Prompt: Punk
Rating: R
Warning: NA
Summary: Bobby had tangled with him before and failed at making a buy.
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Working undercover was one of Bobby's favorite things to do. For hours he got to shed the image of an odd ball detective and play at being someone else. Sure, he didn't play good people, but he played them well.
Today he was a homeless junkie looking to score some heroine. Dressed in the worst the Salvation Army could offer, with three days worth of beard he sulked around back alleys in the projects. He hunched his frame and let his nervous energy play havoc with his hands. They twitched constantly and his eyes scanned back and forth, hawking around the alley.
He knows where the dealer was, crouched behind the dumpster off to his left, but he wasn't an observant police officer right now. He was supposed to look like he was too busy spooking at shadows to notice the dealer. This dealer was a smart one. Bobby had tangled with him before and failed at making a buy. He was going to get him today though. Before making his move he watched the dealer shoot up. Now riding high on heroine it would be all too easy to get the dealer to screw up.
"Hey man," The dealer called, "You're a little far from the church don'tcha think?" The dealer's buddies laugh and started to take notice. Bobby jerks back and puts his back to the wall, backing up a few nervous steps.
"Don'twantnotrouble," He mumbled quickly, casting his eyes down and trying his best to shrink in size.
"Yeah, yeah? Well, maybe you found some trouble," The dealer stalked forward and his buddies formed a loose semi-circle behind him.
"Just wanna hit man," Bobby moaned, looking piteously at the dealer, "One hit man, come on."
The dealer laughed along with his buddies, "Like you can afford it, man."
"I got the money, I got the money," Bobby fumbled in his stinking jacket pocket and pulled out a wad of bills, "Just one hit man, that's enough right? Right?"
The dealer snatched the money and Bobby stumbled back as if he's afraid to be touched, "Yeah, if you can get it." The dealer threw the small bags of heroine at Bobby's feet, where they burst open and spill the drug inside. Only one bag doesn't burst and Bobby smiles victoriously in his head.
"Yeah, yeah, man, it's good. Real good," He said, signaling his back up that the buy has been made and they can move in. One moment it's just Bobby, the dealer and his buddies in the alley, the next it's filled with narcotics cops and Bobby's done playing.