cyberiad_queen (
but_can_i_be_trusted) wrote in
whatif_au2025-01-25 12:57 am
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Entry tags:
[Challenge #28: Crackfic AU] Friends: 'Contraband'
Title: 'Contraband'
Author:
but_can_i_be_trusted
Fandom: Friends
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Notes: Crossposted to
genprompt_bingo
Summary: In their line, aliases were a survival tactic.
Phoebe stood on the middle of the bridge, waiting.
Far below, misted in a dense fog, she knew the water lapped. She could hear its plashing as it struck against the bridge's supports.
Her contact was late. In about an hour, dawn would break. Phoebe didn't want to be caught by daylight. There'd be hell to pay, for certain.
Footsteps sounded close by. She held her breath. Hoping and fearing.
"Nothing beats a May morning," she heard a deep voice intone.
"Especially in January," Phoebe returned.
Their code words exchanged, the pair drew closer to each other. Each eyed the fog around them furtively.
"Call me Tribb," the man muttered, hands in his pockets.
"Regina," Phoebe fibbed. In their line, aliases were a survival tactic.
His nerves artfully concealed, he came closer. "You got the stuff," he asked, keeping his voice down. A hand reached into one of his pockets, withdrawing a thick roll of bills.
Phoebe reached into her bag, drawing out the item. "Is that the price we agreed on," she asked, hesitating to turn over the treasured haul.
The man who'd called himself Tribb carefully counted it all out, close enough for her to see that the full amount was present.
"Gimme the bread," he muttered, "and I'll give you the dough."
Though tempted to repeat his demand, only reversed, Phoebe resisted the urge. "We'll hand our goods over simultaneously," she directed.
He nodded. "Good enough."
As Phoebe handed over the contraband purchase, she accepted in turn the money, which she hastily shoved into her bag. "Nice doing business with you," she grinned, all polite business. "Contact me again if you need more."
Tribb nodded, tucking the lengthy baguette under his coat. "Thanks. I haven't had a decent loaf for weeks. Sure has sucked since this whole bread ban went into effect."
"You're right, there," she agreed, waving her customer on his way. Under her breath, she added: "Sure is lucrative, though."
Author:
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Fandom: Friends
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Notes: Crossposted to
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Summary: In their line, aliases were a survival tactic.
Phoebe stood on the middle of the bridge, waiting.
Far below, misted in a dense fog, she knew the water lapped. She could hear its plashing as it struck against the bridge's supports.
Her contact was late. In about an hour, dawn would break. Phoebe didn't want to be caught by daylight. There'd be hell to pay, for certain.
Footsteps sounded close by. She held her breath. Hoping and fearing.
"Nothing beats a May morning," she heard a deep voice intone.
"Especially in January," Phoebe returned.
Their code words exchanged, the pair drew closer to each other. Each eyed the fog around them furtively.
"Call me Tribb," the man muttered, hands in his pockets.
"Regina," Phoebe fibbed. In their line, aliases were a survival tactic.
His nerves artfully concealed, he came closer. "You got the stuff," he asked, keeping his voice down. A hand reached into one of his pockets, withdrawing a thick roll of bills.
Phoebe reached into her bag, drawing out the item. "Is that the price we agreed on," she asked, hesitating to turn over the treasured haul.
The man who'd called himself Tribb carefully counted it all out, close enough for her to see that the full amount was present.
"Gimme the bread," he muttered, "and I'll give you the dough."
Though tempted to repeat his demand, only reversed, Phoebe resisted the urge. "We'll hand our goods over simultaneously," she directed.
He nodded. "Good enough."
As Phoebe handed over the contraband purchase, she accepted in turn the money, which she hastily shoved into her bag. "Nice doing business with you," she grinned, all polite business. "Contact me again if you need more."
Tribb nodded, tucking the lengthy baguette under his coat. "Thanks. I haven't had a decent loaf for weeks. Sure has sucked since this whole bread ban went into effect."
"You're right, there," she agreed, waving her customer on his way. Under her breath, she added: "Sure is lucrative, though."
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