“I’m sure I could think of something to search you for.”
Sano has an ambiguous conversation with the cop that’s been assigned to his neighborhood.
“What are you doing?”
Sano had been so busy kicking the vending machine’s ass, he hadn’t noticed the man’s approach. “Tryin’ to get this damn machine to give me the damn Coke I paid for!” he growled.
“On coke now, are we?”
Sano finally turned to look at the cop, and realized it was the same that had been in and out of his apartment building lately on some drug case: pretty much an arrogant bastard, though they had had a somewhat amusing conversation about potheads and the smell that never really left the side entryway. “Coca-cola, asshole,” Sano replied, and resumed shaking the machine.
Disconcertingly enough, the cop, instead of inhibiting him or questioning him further, just stood there and watched. As soon as Sano noticed himself giving more attention to not paying attention to the man than what he was actually doing, he stopped and turned. “There a problem, officer?”
This guy would have been immediately identifiable as a cop even without the badge, as his eyes were very arresting. “I’m just waiting to see if you can get a drink out of that thing,” he was replying, looking entertained.
“Why?” Sano asked warily.
“Maybe I don’t believe you actually put money in it.”
Sano stuck his tongue out. “Well, maybe I didn’t. What would you do then?”
“I’d have to wrestle you to the ground and search you.”
“For shakin’ a soda machine?” Sano snorted. “And, search me for what?” he added. “You know I don’t do drugs.”
“I’m sure I could think of something to search you for,” the cop smirked.
Sano wasn’t sure why he shivered just then; it wasn’t particularly cold out.
“What’s your name?” the older man said next.
“All that time you were around here and talking to me about shit, you never figured out my name?”
“Do you know mine?” replied the officer coolly.
“Sagara,” Sano replied, just a tad surly. “Why?”
“How old are you?”
“So you are legal.”
“Legal for what?” Sano found himself shivering again.
Sano was minorly weirded out. “Why are you around here, anyway? Thought you were finished in this crappy neighborhood.”
“I’ve been assigned to this crappy neighborhood. You’ll probably be seeing a lot of me from now on.”
“Best new I’ve heard all night,” Sano said sarcastically.
“I can tell you’re going to be very cooperative.”
“Cooperative with what?”
“My investigations, of course.” Saitou looked him slowly up and down with an expression Sano didn’t quite understand.
He resisted the urge to squirm under that look, which reminded him very much of… well, he didn’t know what. Something that was going to get him. “Are you here to question me, then? Is that why you’re buggin’ me?”
Saitou stepped suddenly forward, still smirking, and reached out his hand. Sano, though of course he didn’t flinch, tried to keep his eyes from widening as the police officer ran just the very tips of his fingers through the younger man’s hair, but this was seriously creepy. It got about a hundred times worse when Saitou, still with that uncannily smug expression, trailed those same fingers down the side of Sano’s face and Sano was struck with the sensation of… kinda liking it.
Yeah, that last part was the weirdest.
He backed away abruptly until he came up against the Coke machine, demanding as he did so, “Are you a total pervert, or what?”
“Yes,” the cop replied calmly.
Well, there was no way Sano was going to stick around for that, despite having maybe enjoyed part of the display of it (or… maybe especially because he had), so he took off across the parking lot — not running; he hadn’t done anything wrong — after informing Saitou, “Well, not me!”
Perverted he might not be, but perverse he certainly was, and he couldn’t help turning when he was some distance off and shouting back defiantly, “And I didn’t put any money in that stupid machine!” Then he took off running, pleased with himself.
He got twenty steps before Saitou was on him.
Elica, upon stumping me in the Quote Guessy Game, requested a Saitou/Sano story, “street rat versus wolf, but in our times,” and thence came this ficlet. It’s quite pointless, possibly the most pointless thing I’ve ever dared to call a story (which is sad when it’s a gift for someone), but whatevs.
I’ve rated this story .