Challenge 691 - For the right price
Jan. 16th, 2022 07:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
m_findlowTitle: For the right price
Character: Owen, Tosh
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 200 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for Challenge 691 - Fair at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
tw100
Summary: Owen thinks this is a waste of time. A double drabble.
'I hate these things,' Owen complained, wandering disinterestedly around the open lawns, cluttered with their plastic marquees and rusted old cars and folding tables. 'Junk for geriatrics,' he added, feeling like he was the youngest person here by an easy forty years.
'It's an antiques fair, Owen,' Tosh told him. 'It's not junk.'
'Speak for yourself,' he replied. His idea of antiques were huge Ming vases and old brass lamps, not rusting farm ploughs and hand me down crockery.
'Jack wanted us to check it out,' Tosh told him, unperturbed by his lack of enthusiasm. 'You just never know what people have been keeping tucked away in their garages for the last twenty years.'
'I think we can see for ourselves,' Owen grumbled. Jack must have been out of his mind. Then again, he'd fit right in here with all the crusty World War Two crap.
'What's that?' Tosh asked, pointing over at a glass case full of silver objects. They stepped closer and peered inside.
'Well, I'll be buggered,' Owen remarked. They'd found something alien after all.
'Great,' Tosh said. 'Now all you need to do is haggle a good price for it.'
Owen choked on her words. 'Haggle?'
Character: Owen, Tosh
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 200 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for Challenge 691 - Fair at
tw100Summary: Owen thinks this is a waste of time. A double drabble.
'I hate these things,' Owen complained, wandering disinterestedly around the open lawns, cluttered with their plastic marquees and rusted old cars and folding tables. 'Junk for geriatrics,' he added, feeling like he was the youngest person here by an easy forty years.
'It's an antiques fair, Owen,' Tosh told him. 'It's not junk.'
'Speak for yourself,' he replied. His idea of antiques were huge Ming vases and old brass lamps, not rusting farm ploughs and hand me down crockery.
'Jack wanted us to check it out,' Tosh told him, unperturbed by his lack of enthusiasm. 'You just never know what people have been keeping tucked away in their garages for the last twenty years.'
'I think we can see for ourselves,' Owen grumbled. Jack must have been out of his mind. Then again, he'd fit right in here with all the crusty World War Two crap.
'What's that?' Tosh asked, pointing over at a glass case full of silver objects. They stepped closer and peered inside.
'Well, I'll be buggered,' Owen remarked. They'd found something alien after all.
'Great,' Tosh said. 'Now all you need to do is haggle a good price for it.'
Owen choked on her words. 'Haggle?'
no subject
Date: 2022-02-13 10:13 pm (UTC)