nick_wilde (nick_wilde) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2017-01-10 19:18:00 |
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Entry tags: | nick wilde, tasslehoff burrfoot |
Who: Nick Wilde & Tas
What: Tas is in prison and he has very srs complaints
When: Recentish
Where: The jail
Rating/Warnings: Not much!
Status: Complete
As far as jails went, this one wasn’t very nice. Tas had tried lying on the bed, but it somehow managed to be both entirely too flat and lumpy, and terribly uncomfortable. They couldn’t actually expect him to sleep on the thing, could they? And when they brought him dinner, he was truly dismayed. It wasn’t that Tas was expecting a three course meal, but the baloney sandwich they brought him didn’t look like any effort at all had been expended in making it.
He shouldn’t have even been arrested. It was all just a misunderstanding, really. It wasn’t Tas’ fault that the necklace from the jewelry store had fallen into his pouch, and he’d given it back to her just as soon as he realized what had happened. There was no need for all the screaming of ‘thief.’ It was all very rude.
“You’re going to bring me a real dinner, right?” Tas asked. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the sandwich, but it’s a little bare, isn’t it? You could at least add some lettuce, and maybe some mayo. Oh, and if you just toasted-”
“Look, either eat it or not,” the cop interrupted him rudely. “I don’t care either way.”
Well, if he’s going to be like that, I’ll just have to find someone else to complain to, Tas thought as he plucked the keys off the guard’s belt.
He unlocked his cell door, and looked around. He spotted a cop sitting at a desk, and the colourfully clad kender headed toward the desk. It was taller than it had looked from afar, and only the top of his long topknot made it over the desk’s surface. “Excuse me,” the topknot said. “I’d like to make a complaint.”
Being behind a desk was not the part of being a police officer than Nick enjoyed, but someone had called out, so here he was, covering for them. The seat was at least cushy and it didn’t bother his legs to rest them on the desk. Sure, it wasn’t the most professional way of sitting, but no one was really around and it wasn’t like anyone was expecting him to be the model cop while he was working at night. Especially not when he and Blondie had their next shift together in the afternoon. He almost regretted his decision, but the extra money would help.
He’d seen someone bring in one of the smallest people ever for some crime or another, he hadn’t really paid attention. The only thing that brought him out of his thoughts was the sound of a voice. He peered across the desk before leaning forward to look at the man standing there. How had he gotten out of his cell? This was probably one of those weird OC things again. “How the hell did you get out of your cell?” He didn’t sound all that angry, though. Just confused.
“Oh, I just opened the door and walked out!” Tas responded, which wasn’t entirely a lie. “It’s a wonder everyone doesn’t, given the mattress in there. Do you think I could maybe get a couple of pillows? Oh, and supper was just a complete disappointment. If you’d just tell me where the kitchen is, I can go and make my own! Oh, and maybe I can make some for the rest of the prisoners, and you too, of course. It’s just that a plain baloney sandwich isn’t very satisfying, you know? And I’m not saying your jail is terrible, but it could use some improvement. Maybe we could get a bit of music back there?”
Nick looked off to the side toward the holding cells. He was trying to figure out just how someone could escape when the man just kept going on about the mattress, pillows, the food, music? He held up a hand before leaning forward a bit more. “Much as I’d like to make the holding cells all joy and fun times, that’s not really the point of jail. Believe me, I know.” Well, he sort of knew. He hadn’t exactly been Mr. Clean Record before the Police Academy. He’d been given a chance because he knew people and so he had a bit of an in with them. That meant that he could generally walk into a lot of places without trouble. Only he was a little less capable of that now.
“And no one’s going to the kitchens.” A beat. “And I already ate, so I’m fine.” He sighed. “You probably should get back into your cell. Someone else is going to notice soon and then we’ll have a mess on our hands.”
“Well what is the point of jail?” Tas asked, exasperated. “It’s not like I did anything wrong for being here! I was just helping someone find her lost things is all. So I hardly think it’s fair that I have to sleep on an uncomfortable bed and eat that terrible sandwich - you should really talk to your sandwich maker. I think he might need some lessons. But I guess you can’t just let anyone into the kitchen, huh. That’s okay! I’m pretty sure I saw a Burger King nearby when they were bringing me in! I’ll just pop over there. I’ll be back in two shakes of a lambs tail!” And with that, Tas headed for the front door, asking himself why it was only two shakes, not one or three, and why it was a lamb at all and not, say, a cat.
“To think about what you did,” he replied simply. “Yeah, that’s what they all say.” In fact, he’d said that a few times, too. Just helping. Being a good person. What are you insinuating? Of course, he hadn’t been helping. But that was besides the point. “I don’t really have dealings with the chef.” And then he started toward the door and Nick had to move quickly to get between him and the door. “You’re not leaving. You’re going back into your cell and maybe, if I feel generous, I’ll bring you back some Burger King. But first, you have to go back into the cell.”
Tas frowned up at Nick, thinking over the offer. It sure wasn’t an appealing offer, especially not when Tas could leave right now, get Burger King on his own, and then maybe sleep on his own soft mattress for the night.
“Do you promise?” he asked after a moment.
Nick was pretty sure his job would be on the line if a prisoner walked right past him and got out. Then again, whoever was in charge of the cells was probably in trouble, too. “Yeah, yeah. I promise. It’s my job on the line. You’ll probably be out by the morning. If you want to escape, do it while I’m not here. At that point, no one can say I let a prisoner walk out.”
He’d be asleep until his afternoon shift in which case, he’d be outside preferably and in the car. He wouldn’t have to deal with that whole frustration. “So go back in, on my lunch break, I’ll pop over, and then I’ll bring you something back.”
Tas thought it over for a little while, and then nodded. “Okay!” he said. “I’ll wait until you’re gone before I go home then.” He didn’t want to get anyone into trouble after all, especially not when the officer was being so nice to him. “I think I’ll take a Double Whopper and fries then. Oh, and a chocolate milkshake!”
Double whopper with fries and a chocolate milkshake. He felt himself inwardly sighing. This was going to be one of those days. “Thanks for that.” His only other option if he’d been more persistent was to tell him to hit him hard enough to make it believable that he’d been unable to stop him, but that would just land him in even more trouble, so it was a pretty shit choice. So he was glad that he didn’t seem to be the sort to argue too much.