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scriveynerTitle: checkout line
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist, Supernatural
AU: Mashup
Characters/Pairing: Al, Ed
Rating: T
Length: 330
Summary: He had only asked this question about seven times in the course of the queue, and Al was clearly getting tired of answering.
Ed held the bottle up to the light, the clear liquid sloshing around inside. “Are you sure this is what we need?” He had only asked this question about seven times in the course of the queue, and Al was clearly getting tired of answering.
“Yes, brother,” Al’s voice was a little tinny through the cell phone. “The recipe was very specific, it called for a particular brand due to the active ingredients."
Ed shuffled the phone to his other ear as he made it up to the belt, dropping the six-pack of beer and the tiny vial onto the conveyor belt. "I dunno, it still seems too easy,” he muttered, staring at the tabloid headlines and trying to ignore the people around him. He glanced to the other side and looked at the candy, and thought mournfully about the baked goods section. However, if he went to fetch anything else he would lose his position in line, in the single open checkout lane at two a.m. on a bloody fucking Tuesday. “Especially using some random fucking brand of eye drops?"
"Not just the eye drops,” Al said.
“Well the eye drops are the only portion I can buy at a fucking warehouse store at three in the morning,” Ed muttered. “It’s shouldn’t be this hard to deal with dead dogs, Al, I’m telling you something stinks here."
Al made an affirmative noise. "I have an idea,” he said, and Ed could hear the clicking of his laptop through the phone. “Are you headed back here after this?"
"Yeah, well I might stop for some sliders. You want any?"
"Greasy burgers at three a.m., Ed, please remember I share the room with you?” Al huffed a sigh and the typing ceased. “Look, I’ll see you when you get back, okay?"
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist, Supernatural
AU: Mashup
Characters/Pairing: Al, Ed
Rating: T
Length: 330
Summary: He had only asked this question about seven times in the course of the queue, and Al was clearly getting tired of answering.
Ed held the bottle up to the light, the clear liquid sloshing around inside. “Are you sure this is what we need?” He had only asked this question about seven times in the course of the queue, and Al was clearly getting tired of answering.
“Yes, brother,” Al’s voice was a little tinny through the cell phone. “The recipe was very specific, it called for a particular brand due to the active ingredients."
Ed shuffled the phone to his other ear as he made it up to the belt, dropping the six-pack of beer and the tiny vial onto the conveyor belt. "I dunno, it still seems too easy,” he muttered, staring at the tabloid headlines and trying to ignore the people around him. He glanced to the other side and looked at the candy, and thought mournfully about the baked goods section. However, if he went to fetch anything else he would lose his position in line, in the single open checkout lane at two a.m. on a bloody fucking Tuesday. “Especially using some random fucking brand of eye drops?"
"Not just the eye drops,” Al said.
“Well the eye drops are the only portion I can buy at a fucking warehouse store at three in the morning,” Ed muttered. “It’s shouldn’t be this hard to deal with dead dogs, Al, I’m telling you something stinks here."
Al made an affirmative noise. "I have an idea,” he said, and Ed could hear the clicking of his laptop through the phone. “Are you headed back here after this?"
"Yeah, well I might stop for some sliders. You want any?"
"Greasy burgers at three a.m., Ed, please remember I share the room with you?” Al huffed a sigh and the typing ceased. “Look, I’ll see you when you get back, okay?"
