I don't even know if I can just call this fluff. I wish there was a special term for crap written in a pre-sleep splurge of creativity that's pointless and very short. There's not, however. So I'll just say it was done in under forty-five minutes and has no point whatsoever. The title doesn't even fit because I couldn't think of a better one. Enjoy. Slice of Life By Snow Calico --- I’d been caught. Caught due to a rookie mistake. If I wasn’t so naturally apathetic, I probably would have been ashamed. I am, though. So I simply sat in the teeny temporary cell with one leg crossed over the other, fingers tapping impatiently against the wooden bench beneath me. Fuck did I want a cigarette. Since the damn cops had taken them away, I had to try and keep my mind off of my cravings. At the moment Zenigata was sauntering towards my chamber, I was picturing dancing hippos in tutus. It didn’t help. “Damn it. That bastard…” he snarled, wrapping his hands around two bars and glaring at me as if I were a dog who just peed on his favorite loafers “Where is he? Tell me where he’s hiding!” I lean back against the cold cement wall, wrapping my arms in front of my chest and smirking “C’mon now, Pops. We’ve played this game often enough for you to know I ain’t gonna talk.” A few muffled curses as he tries to make himself look even more menacing. As ever, he fails miserably. It’s hard to take any man with such extravagant eyelashes seriously. “You asshole! I’ll make you talk! Don’t underestimate me!” he growls, squeezing the bars the way I’m sure he’d love to be squeezing my neck. I chuckle, and lift my head somewhat to study a stain on the ceiling “Yeah, yeah. I know. You always say the same thing, ya really should try and find a cure for yer broken record syndrome.” This is where I expected more babbling about how my ass was grass if I didn’t squeal, but instead there was silence. Silence does not become Pops. So I pried my attention away from the amazing stain to look over at the Inspector. He was gaping at me, one eyebrow raised in question. “Whatsa matter, my rapier wit finally break yer brain, old man?” His right hand let go of its death grip on the bar long enough to point at my neck “What… is –that-?” Now, I may be a limber guy, but there was no way I’d be able to look at my neck to see what the hell he was gawking at. ”What’s what?” “Is that… a… what do the kids call it?” his voice was an amusing combination of curiosity and disbelief “A h-hock… no… aha! A hickey!” “What?!” I nearly choked on my tongue; I sat up and patted my neck so fast. “Why would you of all people have one of those?” he scratched his comically large cleft “I thought you steered clear of women!” At this point, I was mostly blocking his dumb questions out in my state of panic. A hickey? When the hell had I gotten a hickey? Then it hit me. “That bastard.” --- Lupin had been experiencing one of his typical post-successful-heist sex cravings. The bigger the heist, the hornier that jackass always was. Considering our booty of the night before was a life-sized golden statue of some long dead emperor, he would have propositioned a tree if he found one with just the right curves. After we’d dropped off the statue at some warehouse Lupin used for occurrences like this, we changed cars and started off for the hotel we were staying in that evening. “Jigen…” he purred eagerly, nibbling ever-so-slightly at my ear while I tried to steer the Fiat. Goemon grumbled in the back and closed his eyes tightly. Trying not to let Lupin’s ‘unclean desires’ taint him, or some shit like that. “Damn it, Lupin!” I pushed him away with one hand “I’m trying to drive here! If you need to screw something, why don’t you go in the back and hump Goemon?” Even though I couldn’t see him, I sensed the samurai opening his eyes to give me a healthy glaring from the back seat. “Mmm, but you’re the one that’s got me all riled up.” a throaty chuckle as he nears me again, never one to allow a little word like ‘no’ from stopping him “The way you swung in and got that guy between the eyes? The sweat pouring off your—“ “Save it for later, idiot!” I snap as one of his wandering hands causes me to swerve the little Italian piece of shit car a little more to the right than I’d intended “Lot of good yer damn hard on is going to do you if yer thrown through the windshield!” Thus began the pouting. Complete with his bottom lip jutting out and his arms folded across his chest “Hmmph. You’re no fun, Jigen.” I knew better to think that was the end, though. I knew as soon as I parked that car what he’d do. Sure enough, within seconds after I’d brought the thing to a stop in the alleyway beside our hotel, he was literally on top of me. His body pressed mine into the door and window, pinning me down the moment he had a chance. Goemon, rather than helping me out of his situation, simply gave a dramatic sigh and exited the car as quickly as he could, complete with a loud door slam. Jerk. “Okay, we’re safe now!” Lupin grinned from ear to ear “Now, where was I? Oh yeah! You really look hot when you’re aiming that gun, do you know that?” I should mention that for a guy that considers himself some great romancer, Lupin truly sucks when it comes to pick up lines. Of course, he was mostly humoring me. He knew very well he was going to get what he wanted. So I humored him right back. “Oh?” I replied in what is the closest I get to a coy voice, which still came out sounding hopelessly sarcastic. Then he started going at my neck like a starving leech. Normally, this doesn’t result in any marks. He’s been sucking and kissing my skin so long that it’s grown accustomed to the ‘attention’ and seriously toughened up. That night, however, he must have found some spot he’d never graced with his suction before. Lucky me, Pops had spotted it. --- “Who’s a bastard?” Oh, shit. I’d said the last bit out loud. When it comes to him, I always feel like I'm talking to a little kid. I wasn't about to divulge the fact I'd gotten the 'love bite' during a quickie in a cramped European automobile with his object of obsession. Fortunately Zenigata is fairly easy to lie to. Most of the time. “Pfftt, Lupin must’ve done something to put this on me as a joke.” I snort with a coldly amused grin “That fucker will do anything for a laugh, I tell you.” I waited patiently and watched his face to see if he’d buy it. When his expression of dumb perplexity faded into his normal expression of ‘Damn it, I must catch Lupin!’, I knew I was in the clear. “… and you’re his best friend!” he grits his teeth angrily “That guy treats everyone he knows like crap! I know you’re a dirty crook too, but how in the hell can you stand that sort of treatment?” I stifle laughter, but can’t fight the huge highly amused grin that comes over my face. “Heheh, you kind of get used to it, Pops. It grows on ya.” More confused expressions come from the Inspector before he gives up with an irritated grunt and moves away from my cell. “I’ll let you have a night’s rest, asshole, but tomorrow,” he again tries to look intimidating as he points one finger at me “You’re going to talk!” He then turns his back to me and exits the room, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his brown trenchcoat. All the while he’s muttering about how he swears this will be the day he finally captures Lupin. Same old story. I, meanwhile, move to lie my skinny form down along the bench and stare up disinterestedly at the ceiling. I know within an hour or so Lupin will sneak in to rescue me. Pops won’t realize he’s been fooled until the morning comes and he returns to an empty cell. He never does. Now, to plan my hickey revenge. Oh yes.