chapter word count: 229
noir heart: nine
Disaster. Robbery. Larceny of the highest order.
Grand Theft Pastry.
Some prick has stolen his half-eaten Danish.
His stare is made of pure fire as he regards the now empty disposable plate, holding only crumbs and flakes where a delicious pecan pastry used to exist. Fucking thieves – you leave your desk for a couple of minutes, and some wise guy helps himself to your breakfast.
His eyes flick up to the dozen or so detectives hard at work over their own case files, working out who the culprit could have been. There are no tell-tale crumbs on lapels, and no-one is glancing sheepishly up…or if they think he really is a bent cop, arrogantly smirking at him.
He has a fair idea of who it could be, though, and in the fashion of the prankster he used to be, he loudly and theatrically voices his…pity?
"I really feel sorry for whoever ate my Danish," he drawls as he saunters over to Lucifer's coffee-machine, "I've had a bad case of oral thrush for a week…"
There's a choking sound at the other end of the office, and wearing an evil smirk Jack's head snaps over to where a blond pony-tailed man, with a thin face, flushed cheeks and a ridiculously prominent chin is coughing over his desk.
Ruffnut Thorston.
Bastard.
sara99: Unfortunately, no Danish for Jack :(
fantasy oh yea: I'm blushing so much. Thank you!
heartonfire: There was sass? :o Cynical Jack is awesome. I missed writing him in CttT.
maggietheawesome: *backs away slowly* easy there, tiger. I am glad you're enjoying it so...enthusiastically.
e-teens: Haha, yeah. Aster's face in my mind was a picture.
kira: Indeed! Pretty much like RotG Jack anyway. "Aww, Easter in '68 looks so bright...SNOW DAY!"
jpbake: Sorry, I love to tease. There's a few more before he actually talks to her though.
Many thanks to those reading and reviewing!