[Anson/Ravi] - karma >:(
Who:
Anson
Ravindra
When: After this thread.
Where: The station
Rating & Warnings: PG for language.
New personal record for shortest log.
Anson was more than a bit irate.
He knew it was unreasonable for him to still be so upset with Ravindra after just an offhand comment on the ledgers, one that was definitely false and not at all a reflection on his actual behavior. Flirting? With the lieutenant? He would never. You'd have to be an asshole to suggest something like that... and yet, such a simple observation left him stewing for, what-- hours? He'd demolished his paperwork in record time after that, rage fueling productivity. Still, it wasn't enough.
That's why, when Ravindra finally showed himself at the station, Anson immediately chucked the ledger at him.
He didn't expect it to hit; the man had to grudgingly admit the other sergeant was far smarter than that. It just felt so good to throw something at his stupid goddamn smug Hindu face. "Fuck your karma!"
That was unexpected. But Ravi had extremely finely honed combat instincts and he ducked the projectile like a pro. He straightened, staring at Anson, and once he was fairly sure he wasn't going to get anything else thrown at him, he looked down to see what it was Anson had weaponized.
His ledger. So that was what this was about.
Ravi knelt to retrieve it, hiding a smile, and walked over to set it on Anson's desk. "But it is your karma you should be angry with," he said, his tone amused.
"At least one of us is entertained." He snatched his ledger back with a grumble, before rising to his feet. At least all his work was done and he didn't have to spend any more time here, listening to Damica laugh and Mr. Smuggerson over there. (Had he really only been waiting around for Ravi to show up? He hadn't even realized he could be so spiteful...)
Anson flounced left from the station without another word, ledger tucked under his arm. Whatever.
Anson
Ravindra
When: After this thread.
Where: The station
Rating & Warnings: PG for language.
New personal record for shortest log.
Anson was more than a bit irate.
He knew it was unreasonable for him to still be so upset with Ravindra after just an offhand comment on the ledgers, one that was definitely false and not at all a reflection on his actual behavior. Flirting? With the lieutenant? He would never. You'd have to be an asshole to suggest something like that... and yet, such a simple observation left him stewing for, what-- hours? He'd demolished his paperwork in record time after that, rage fueling productivity. Still, it wasn't enough.
That's why, when Ravindra finally showed himself at the station, Anson immediately chucked the ledger at him.
He didn't expect it to hit; the man had to grudgingly admit the other sergeant was far smarter than that. It just felt so good to throw something at his stupid goddamn smug Hindu face. "Fuck your karma!"
That was unexpected. But Ravi had extremely finely honed combat instincts and he ducked the projectile like a pro. He straightened, staring at Anson, and once he was fairly sure he wasn't going to get anything else thrown at him, he looked down to see what it was Anson had weaponized.
His ledger. So that was what this was about.
Ravi knelt to retrieve it, hiding a smile, and walked over to set it on Anson's desk. "But it is your karma you should be angry with," he said, his tone amused.
"At least one of us is entertained." He snatched his ledger back with a grumble, before rising to his feet. At least all his work was done and he didn't have to spend any more time here, listening to Damica laugh and Mr. Smuggerson over there. (Had he really only been waiting around for Ravi to show up? He hadn't even realized he could be so spiteful...)
Anson flounced left from the station without another word, ledger tucked under his arm. Whatever.