FAKE Quadruple Drabble: Overdone

[badly_knitted]

 


Title: Overdone
Fandom: FAKE
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ryo, Dee.
Rating: PG
Setting: After Like Like Love.
Summary: Ryo only sat down for a few minutes, and now dinner is ruined.
Written For: Challenge 381: Amnesty 63 at fan_flashworks, using Challenge 107: Burn.
Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh.
A/N: Quadruple drabble.
 
 


Ryo had only sat down for a few minutes. It had been a long day and his feet were hurting from chasing a suspect what felt like miles along poorly maintained city streets in shoes that looked good with his suit but weren’t exactly designed with police work in mind.
 

Dee had been tired too, but he’d promised to stop by the orphanage after work to deal with a leak, so Ryo had said he’d have dinner ready by the time his partner got home. He’d changed out of his suit, set the meal cooking, and then…
 

He remembered thinking he’d turn the TV on and catch the evening news… Was it the smell that woke him or the strident beeping of the smoke alarm? Ryo leapt to his feet and dashed into the kitchen to find smoke billowing out of the oven. Frantically turning everything off, he flung the kitchen window open before dragging a chair over to stand on while he poked at the alarm, trying to shut it off.

 
Silence fell at last, but Ryo’s ears were still ringing as he stepped down off the chair and opened the oven. Brandishing a wet dishtowel in the hopes of dispersing the smoke, he peered in at what was to have been their dinner, now a completely inedible burned and blackened lump.
 

Naturally, Dee chose that moment to come home.
 

“Hey, I’m starvin’, what’s for…” He trailed off as he became aware of the haze of smoke drifting through the apartment. Slamming the door behind him, he made straight for the kitchen. “Ryo? What happened, babe?”

 
Ryo’s shoulders drooped. “I burned dinner. I’m sorry, Dee, I only sat down for a few minutes, but I must’ve fallen asleep.”
 

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. Are you okay? Didn’t burn yourself, did ya?” Dee reached for his lover’s hands, checking them.

 
“No, I’m fine, but the pot-roast isn’t.”

 
Grabbing the oven gloves, Dee extracted the smoking pot from the oven. “Yeah, it’s a little overdone.” He set the pot on the damp draining board, sending up a cloud of steam. “Oops, instant sauna,” he joked, turning back to his lover. “Whaddaya say we order takeout instead?”
 

“You’re not mad?”
 

“Baby, shit happens. Everyone burns dinner sometimes. Hell, I melted a TV dinner all over the inside of the oven once ‘cause I forgot about it. Long as you’re okay, nothin’ else matters.”

 
 
The End