Sin City Challenge Fic: Gonna Get Some

Title: Gonna Get Some

Author/pseudonym: Creed Cascade

Fandom: Tour of Duty

Pairing: Zeke/Myron.

Rating: PG-13

Status: new

Archive: If you want it, go ahead. Just knock upside the head and let me know.

Disclaimers: The faces are familiar and so are the names, but the setting seems a little strange? I kidnapped a few cuties from television land. I accept that they never did and never will belong to me, but I am having oh so much fun while I have them.

Notes: This is for the Sin City Fic challenge with character/characters of my choice and required items: lemon, umbrella, beads. Oh yeah there was supposed to be a word limit of 200, but I ignored that. :)

Summary: Someone is gonna get some.

GONNA GET SOME

Written By Creed Cascade

Sergeant Anderson walked into the dimly lit bar, dodging fallen chairs and toppled tables. This was one of the more slummy joints in Sin City. The first of one of his men he spotted was seated at a table, gingerly running his hand over a lighter.

"Percell," Anderson barked, "What in the hell are you doing?"

Percell looked up and dropped the lighter, shaking his hand sharply before he shoved it into a glass of water.

"Sarge…" he slurred, "What'za matter?"

"You trying to barbeque yourself, soldier?"

"No, *sir*. Roo just bet me I couldn't last for thirty seconds."

Anderson rolled his eyes. "Did you?"

"Don't know. I couldn't count past twenty, kept dropping the lighter and Roo passed out in the head, so he's no help."

"Never mind, where's L.T.?"

"Over there." Purcell pointed to the farthest corner of the bar.

"Oh fuck," Anderson muttered. His commanding officer was dancing on the bar to… "The Monkeys?"

"Yeah, isn't it great. Mamason got it special just for us."

"What has he been drinking, Purcell?"

"Tequila, sir. Roo got his Papa to ship it to us."

"Shit, well that would explain the lemon slice in his mouth. But where in the hell did he get an umbrella and what is that he's wearing around his neck?"

"Beads… he got'em from the hooker and the umbrella, too."

"What's a hooker doing with an umbrella?"

"Said she didn't wanna get her hair wet. Kept trying to chat up L.T. saying she'd do a freebee just for'em."

"What did he say?" Anderson whispered dangerously.

"Didn't say much, kept trying to get away. When she kept touching him, he'd just say… for gawd's sake, pass me the tequila. After a few shots, kept saying he was gonna get some tonight, but she wasn't gonna do the giving. That help, Sarge?"

"Sure does."

Anderson stalked over to the bar and looked up at his Lieutenant. Myron was swaying unsteadily to the music and singing at the top of his lungs now that he had spit out the lemon wedge he was sucking on.

"Hiya, Sergeant," he drawled with a suggestive leer when he saw Anderson. "You're late."

Anderson almost lost it when his C.O. pouted. "Sorry…"

"I waited. Had to fight off a whore who looked like Bozo the Clown. But she gave me her beads and umbrella after she dragged Roo from the can. Like it?" He proudly held up the polka doted umbrella for inspection.

"You make a great Mary Poppins, now come here…"

Zeke lunged across the bar and grabbed Myron's legs. The Lieutenant lost his balance and fell forward, right into his Sergeant's arms. Before he knew what was what, he was draped over Anderson's shoulder being carried across the room.

"Where we going, Zeke?" Goldman asked distractedly, playing with the beads swaying from his neck, the umbrella abandoned.

"Gonna get some and I'll do the giving."

That suited Myron just fine. He smiled, even upside down Zeke had a great ass.

End.