Post by wordy on Aug 10, 2009 15:12:18 GMT 10
Title: Slipping
Rating: G
Prompt: #6 Puzzles
Summary: Tunstall and Goodwin hit a rough patch. No spoilers.
A/N: First of all, I've really got to start coming up with better titles.
Also, I'm not completely happy with this drabble, it was just a rushed thing, but I was in the mood for Goodwin and Tunstall.
I'm thinking that this takes place when the two of them have only been partners for a short while, and they're still smoothing out the creases.
"What do you mean you lost him?"
Ahuda was not at all happy, and Goodwin couldn't blame her. They'd been tailing that rat for days, and then her great looby of a partner had to go and mess things up. Goodwin scowled at Tunstall, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.
He saw her look and crossed his arms. That was always the way of it; whenever they messed up he'd get in a grump and she wouldn't get a proper conversation out of him for a week.
"It wasn't entirely our fault," Tunstall began, but his partner cut him off.
"It was completely our fault! Actually," she said angrily, "it was your fault. You were supposed to go 'round the block and I was going to chase him to you! I was running for hours!"
He'd never seen Clara this angry before. He stayed silent though, because he knew she was right. He hadn't done his part properly, or there'd be a rat in the cages and he'd be down at the alehouse right now.
He used to know the Lower City like the back of his hand. Nothing had changed, he'd just gotten sloppy. He wouldn't admit it to Clara though. Dogs were supposed to be fast, strong, and quick-witted. There was no room for laziness.
Later, as he walked her home after their watch, Tunstall brought up the courage to tell her the truth. That he knew it was his fault they'd lost the rat.
It was just difficult, sometimes, to keep it all in his mind: the map of the Lower City was like a maze, one that he'd gotten too comfortable with. But he didn't have the solution, like he'd thought he had. He'd gotten sloppy and comfortable and not even tried to do his job properly.
That's what he told her, anyway. There was a lot more mumbling about mazes and not paying attention and getting lost, but then he started to get a headache and gods did he need a drink.
Clara just looked at him, almost as if he were a stranger. As if she was trying to figure him out.
"Look," he said, "just forgive me and I'll pick up my act again, and everything'll be back to normal."
"You'd better," she replied, and there was a hardness in her eyes he hadn't seen before, "Or I'll be wanting a new partner."
He really needed that drink.
Rating: G
Prompt: #6 Puzzles
Summary: Tunstall and Goodwin hit a rough patch. No spoilers.
A/N: First of all, I've really got to start coming up with better titles.
Also, I'm not completely happy with this drabble, it was just a rushed thing, but I was in the mood for Goodwin and Tunstall. I'm thinking that this takes place when the two of them have only been partners for a short while, and they're still smoothing out the creases.
"What do you mean you lost him?"
Ahuda was not at all happy, and Goodwin couldn't blame her. They'd been tailing that rat for days, and then her great looby of a partner had to go and mess things up. Goodwin scowled at Tunstall, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.
He saw her look and crossed his arms. That was always the way of it; whenever they messed up he'd get in a grump and she wouldn't get a proper conversation out of him for a week.
"It wasn't entirely our fault," Tunstall began, but his partner cut him off.
"It was completely our fault! Actually," she said angrily, "it was your fault. You were supposed to go 'round the block and I was going to chase him to you! I was running for hours!"
He'd never seen Clara this angry before. He stayed silent though, because he knew she was right. He hadn't done his part properly, or there'd be a rat in the cages and he'd be down at the alehouse right now.
He used to know the Lower City like the back of his hand. Nothing had changed, he'd just gotten sloppy. He wouldn't admit it to Clara though. Dogs were supposed to be fast, strong, and quick-witted. There was no room for laziness.
Later, as he walked her home after their watch, Tunstall brought up the courage to tell her the truth. That he knew it was his fault they'd lost the rat.
It was just difficult, sometimes, to keep it all in his mind: the map of the Lower City was like a maze, one that he'd gotten too comfortable with. But he didn't have the solution, like he'd thought he had. He'd gotten sloppy and comfortable and not even tried to do his job properly.
That's what he told her, anyway. There was a lot more mumbling about mazes and not paying attention and getting lost, but then he started to get a headache and gods did he need a drink.
Clara just looked at him, almost as if he were a stranger. As if she was trying to figure him out.
"Look," he said, "just forgive me and I'll pick up my act again, and everything'll be back to normal."
"You'd better," she replied, and there was a hardness in her eyes he hadn't seen before, "Or I'll be wanting a new partner."
He really needed that drink.
