prompt table { 2016 } 100 situations

[iluvroadrunner6]

Because I intend to finish this table one way or the other - please feel free to claim prompts from the list below. Anything with a link or a strikethrough is off limits, but otherwise, comment below and I will mark your prompts as claimed!

001.	Tired	002.	Back Alley	003.	Sunrise	004.	Late	005.	Son
006.	Hot	007.	Friend	008.	Floor	009.	Cheat	010.	Think
011.	Disgust	012.	Shelter	013.	Borrow	014.	Chair	015.	Alter
016.	Peace	017.	Beach	018.	True	019.	Crazy	020.	Love
021.	New	022.	Beggar	023.	False	024.	Happy	025.	Cancer
026.	Pickpocket	027.	Reverse	028.	Deliver	029.	Arrival	030.	Fall
031.	Knife	032.	Torn	033.	Danger	034.	Neutral	035.	Mate
036.	Fly	037.	Loud	038.	Touch	039.	Seek	040.	Argue
041.	Work	042.	Sink	043.	Nut	044.	Stuck	045.	Animal
046.	Pray	047.	Kill	048.	Light	049.	Cold	050.	Affair
051.	Restaurant	052.	Movie	053.	Wait	054.	Patient	055.	Crime
056.	Choke	057.	Fever	058.	Summer	059.	Eat	060.	Thirst
061.	Chance	062.	Appear	063.	Whisper	064.	Day	065.	Scream
066.	Fail	067.	Confused	068.	Smile	069.	Come	070.	Alone
071.	Fast	072.	Slow	073.	Return	074.	Fire	075.	Positive
076.	Baby	077.	Upset	078.	Kitchen	079.	Winter	080.	Ignorant
081.	Fool	082.	Afraid	083.	Prison	084.	Sex	085.	Hate
086.	Alarm	087.	Genius	088.	Negative	089.	Flood	090.	Bomb
091.	Hospital	092.	Trap	093.	Celebrate	094.	Old	095.	Disappear
096.	Writer‘s Choice.	097.	Writer‘s Choice.	098.	Writer‘s Choice.	099.	Writer‘s Choice.	100.	Writer‘s Choice.

Prompts Written: 100/100
Total Word Count: 124,261 words

Fill Plurk | Fill Plurk 2

Comments

i don't need to fight to prove i'm right ~ new york wolves ~ 937 words

[flack]

“This really isn’t what I had in mind for tonight.”

“You and me both.”

Flack’s tone is apologetic, speaking the apology without actually saying it, but the crowds of policemen and civilians trying to be corralled around them mostly speaks for itself. The situation that they’re in now isn’t really Flack’s fault, exactly. He couldn’t have known that the day that he managed to get himself and Derek fairly decent seats to the Knicks game as a high school graduation present is also the day that a bomb scare would be called in to Madison Square Garden, but apparently that’s the curse of being an NYPD cop. You go where the action happens, and on the off chance you decide against it, the action can always come to you.

Flack manages to get himself positioned at the barricade closest to Derek, the teenage boy letting his eyes wander over the scene as crowds of police officers try to keep the people back while they investigate the buildings.

“At least there are no casualties this time,” he murmurs, eyes glancing over the crowd, then back to the Homeland Security agents that are handling the scene, and then back to Derek again. “Last time Messer and I went to a ball game someone dropped dead at center court.”

“Seriously?” Derek’s eyebrows go up curiously. “Did he have a heart attack or something?”

“Nope. Poisoned.” Derek’s eyebrows shoot up even higher and Flack smirks. “One of the cheerleaders had it in for him. Rigged the halftime contest so that she could get close to him and used her lipstick to poison him when she gave him a kiss on the cheek.”

“Note to self: never piss off a cheerleader.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Flack shakes his head. “They are far scarier than they make themselves out to be.”

Derek’s quiet for a moment as his fingers drum against the side of the barricade for a moment, taking his time to figure out what to say next. “I’ll be okay, you know. You don’t have to stay here and babysit me.”

“Are you kidding? Your sister’s probably seen all this rigmarole on the news by now. She is scarier than any cheerleader.”

Derek smirks a bit at that, but some tension relaxes in his shoulders. Flack knows that Derek probably didn’t actually want him to go anywhere. He just didn’t want it to seem like he was taking him away from his job. “I guess most people would probably expect you to get into a turf war with the Homeland Security guys about it.”

“Eh, they can have this one. It’s my night off.” Not that he’s not technically working anyway, but he at least has a say in how much he works. Crowd control is something he can do without thinking too hard about it.

There’s another brief bout of silence, before Derek looks up at him again, some of the uncertainty still wearing on his face. “Do you think I would make a good cop?”

The question catches him by surprise, because it’s not a career he had figured Derek for considering. He knows that the Hales have their reasons for keeping a low profile and things could get complicated on their end of things, one way or another, but there’s still something interesting about the fact that he asked the question to begin with.

“Maybe.” He considers for a moment. “Do you want to be a cop?”

“Maybe.” The answer is non-committal, almost as though he’s trying to weigh all the pros and cons in his head and come up with what the right answer is exactly supposed to be. “I like solving puzzles. And I think I’d be good at it.”

“You’d have to put in a whole lot of leg work before you become a detective.”

“I know.” There’s another pause. “I want to be better at protecting people.”

Flack wants to be able to tell him that there are no perfect ways to learn that particular skill. It isn’t something where you just flip a switch and suddenly you’re better at it. There are still people you won’t be able to save at the end of the day. But he doesn’t want to discourage him. It’s the most productive career path he’s heard Derek come up with so far, and in a lot of ways, he could be really good at it.

“You’d have to get a handle on that temper of yours.” Because at the end of the day, Derek is still a pretty angry kid, with good reason to be. “And you’d still have to go to school – at least to get an associates.”

“I can do that.” Derek almost seems to light up at the encouragement, a bright smile crossing his face. “My sister made me register at the local community college anyway. You can help me figure out what to study.”

“Sure.” Just as he nods his agreement, one of the federal agents starts speaking over the megaphone, announcing that they were all clear and everyone was free to either return to the stadium for the rest of the game, or collect voucher tickets for another night. Flack waits until Derek slips past the barricade to his side, before glancing at the two lines and then back to Derek again.

“What do you think? Stay for the game, or pick up some vouchers and go grab a slice?”

Derek thinks for a moment before shaking his head. “Pizza. We can go another night.”

Flack nods in agreement, giving his shoulders a squeeze and heading towards the ticket counter. “Pizza it is.”