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For fun, a silly little ficlet written for [livejournal.com profile] shayheyred as comment fic. The lovely Shay provided an utterly evil prompt. This is the result...


Betty's Revenge

"Bodie, point that thing someplace else, would you."

"What do you...Oh Christ."

"Told you if you bounced it, it'd go off."

"Fuck! Do something, would you, Doyle?"

"You're the one set it off. You do something."

"It's so small. Didn't think it'd do this much damage."

"Small but dangerous, that's what these things are. Jesus, Bodie, there it goes again."

"Fucking hell. Toxic, this stuff is."

"Not to mention noxious. I'll never get this stench out of my jacket."

"I'm just tossing my clothes in the bin. My laundry service'll never touch this."

"Know what you mean, mate. Rita'd never forgive me, if I drop this lot off on Friday."

"Why don't you take it?"

"No bloody way, mate...Oh fuck."

"You might as well take it now."

"I'm going to fucking kill Cowley."

"Cowley just provided the venue, Doyle. Me, I'm taking it out on Betty."




Men, Betty thought disgustedly when she got back from her lunch with Ruth and Susan. Don't know how to properly handle anything.

"She's only a baby, Doyle. Not going to kill you, is she?"

"She's sicked up all over the both of us and herself, 'asn't she? This stuff's deadly."

"You were probably too rough with her." Betty took her daughter back, wishing she'd never let Cowley talk her into leaving Maya with 3.7 and 4.5 in his office while she went out for lunch with the girls.

"Too rough!" Bodie looked affronted. "She's nearly pulled my earlobe off." He nodded at 4.5. "Had a field day with Doyle's hair, too. I think she's ripped out chunks of his scalp."

"No bottle, the pair of you," Ruth said, with a glint in her eye.

"I'll tell the villains just to throw a baby at you lot next time, shall I?" Susan said.

"'S not funny, Susan." Betty didn't think she'd ever heard 3.7 whine, but he was certainly coming close.

"Yeah," Doyle put his oar in. "Bloody awful, 's what it is."

"Oh, I don't know." Betty suddenly saw a way clear to get back for all the jokes, all the attempts on her virtue, all the last minute typing jobs the two of them had heaped on her over the years until she'd finally packed it all in for love, marriage and dirty nappies. "Bet the rest of the lads will think it's funny."

"Definitely," Ruth said, her arms crossed.

"Absolutely," Susan concurred.

"You fucking wouldn't," Doyle said.

"Language, 4.5." Yes, Betty thought, I am definitely enjoying this. "There's a child present."

"I know there's a fucking child present. She's the fucking reason I'm using this fucking language." And yeah, there was a definite hint of hysteria in Doyle's voice. Betty suppressed a smile.

"Tell you boys what." Betty handed little Maya back to a disbelieving Bodie. "You two clean up the baby, Cowley's office and yourselves, and the three of us won't tell the rest of the squad that you were done in by a baby."

"What?" Bodie had gone from whine to squeak.

"That's blackmail, that is." Doyle said.

"That's right." Betty chucked a burbling Maya under the chin. "Keep an eye on these two love. Make sure they don't skive off."

"Cheerio, lads," Susan said with a grin. Ruth only winked on her way out.

"Well, 'otshot," Betty heard Doyle say as she reached the hall. "Got any idea 'ow to clean baby puke from Cowley's scotch cabinet?"

Date: 2007-06-26 12:38 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] przed.livejournal.com
Of course baby sick was gonna be in there. (I've told Don this one's dedicated to him.)

I reckon the gals have figured out how to control the lads out of pure self defence. And that they're damn good at it. *g*

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