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jangles28 · 11 days ago

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sick day

[it took me Long Enough. inspired by sketches from the talented @nami-ramen and also the fact i just had surgery and wanted to write fluff. the perspective changes a few times throughout the story due to my Horrible Curse]

[honorable mention to my Good Friend @jangles28. they cheered me throught this one. Thank You Jangles] [this fic includes: mentions of illness, normal amounts of people watching, and a little breaking and entering. as a treat]

The detective woke up feeling… not that great, to be honest. What day was it? Friday? Saturday? God, they hoped it was Saturday. Then they could stay home and focus on taking care of Junior, and decidedly not how awful it felt to be awake right then. However, as all things seemed to be going lately, the world did not have the detective’s back. It was Friday.

Great. Good.

First order of business, make themself presentable. It wouldn’t do for Junior to see them like this, so they had to pull themself together enough to get Junior to daycare at least. Then, they had to face the ordeal of going to work and dealing with whatever crime was assigned to them that day. Should be simple enough, right?

The detective stood up, and battled off the woozy feeling they got from doing so. They had a thermometer around here somewhere, probably. They remembered using one on Wanda, when she had fallen ill once, but that had been… a long time ago. The detective shuddered, and opened a drawer in their wardrobe that looked promising. The thermometer lay there, next to some other miscellaneous knick-knacks that didn't have anywhere else to go. Looking at it, the detective sighed, then picked it up and pushed the button to turn it on.

The reading they got back didn't give them much hope for the rest of the day. The detective had an elevated temperature. Well. Thank God it was Friday, at least. If they could push through the day, then they could take the whole weekend to rest afterwards. The detective pulled some suitable clothing out of their wardrobe, showered, and made themself presentable enough for their colleagues and for Junior.

The detective coughed, then walked to the kitchen to start making breakfast. Junior joined them on the way. God, had it really been three years? Junior’d dressed himself. and was chattering excitedly about what was going to happen at daycare that day. Something about paper snowflakes. The detective tried to pay attention, they really did, but the aching in their throat and pounding in their head made it hard to concentrate.

“How about cereal today, bud?”

Junior nodded excitedly, which was good, because the detective didn't have the energy to make anything else. The way their throat was feeling, they wouldn't have the ability to eat the cereal either. The detective fixed Junior some cereal, and poured a small glass of orange juice for themself. Thank god they'd had the forethought to go shopping. They should have ingredients for chicken noodle soup somewhere, but they had to hurry up a little to get Junior to daycare and themself to work.

They told Junior to go and brush their teeth, and while he was doing that they searched for the ingredients they would need later, and got as far as the chicken broth and noodles before Junior was racing back to them, freshly cleaned. The detective ruffled his hair, then went to go brush their own teeth. They grabbed some Ibuprofen from the cabinet and took it, praying that it would get them through the day. After a brief coughing fit, they finished up in the restroom and left to go drive Junior to daycare.

They managed to drive to daycare with relatively little incident, Junior chatting about various things that caught his interest in the backseat. The detective walked him to the door and waved goodbye with a smile when Junior turned back to look through the door. After they got back in their car to drive to the office, however, they collapsed into a coughing fit bad enough to make them briefly reconsider their choices on smoking.

After the detective made it to work, they learned that the case they'd be working on for the foreseeable future was a homicide of some kind. The detective knew that they really should have been paying more attention to the briefing that they had been given, but the headache and their sore throat made it a little hard for them to give the case any of their attention. With a sigh, they sorted through the paperwork in their office a little, coughed again, and stood up to go investigate the crime scene. God, every joint ached today.

—

Waldo strolled along the police tape. So what if he was looking for his favorite detective? He hadn’t done the crime. Perfectly fine for him to be here. The murder looked like one that his detective would be assigned, which did irk him a little (it was his job to give his detective cases, but that would have to wait, for at least a while longer), but the murder was sloppy and it was evident who had done it. Finally, after a little while, his detective's car pulled up, and the investigator of the hour stepped out.

They didn't look quite right. Waldo stared inquisitively. His detective was paler than usual, and they had a flush to their cheeks, but they hadn't been exercising? Confusing. They hid a cough behind their hand, but due to their… unfortunate smoking habit, that didn't help with the mystery whatsoever. He sat down on a park bench (not too close), and began to watch his detective examine the evidence.

About half an hour later, one of the detective's colleagues walked up behind them and slapped them on the shoulder in greeting (Waldo wasn't a fan. Shouldn't be touching his detective like that). The detective looked up from the body and smiled at the man, then stood up and started talking with him. That was the intent they had, at least. As Waldo watched, the detective stumbled and had to catch themself on the man's shoulder, leading to some troubled questioning on the colleague's part. After a couple minutes of a growing back-and-forth between his detective and their colleague, the detective turned and stormed away in a huff. Kind of cute, but they had another coughing fit after getting away from their colleague. This one forced them to lean against a nearby lamppost.

Some suspicions were creeping up on Waldo. Was his detective ill? Could be. That wouldn't be good. Waldo needed his detective at the top of their game, and he knew that although illnesses passed, they could leave lasting effects. That wouldn't do. Waldo began to trail the detective at a distance.

Waldo watched as the detective's colleague found and walked over to them, bringing along some support. His detective turned to glare at them from the lamppost, and after a couple minutes of more solid arguing the detective sighed and began to walk back to their car with a wave. Perhaps their coworkers had convinced them to go rest? Good.

He would keep monitoring his detective. Just to make sure they got home safely.

---

The detective was a little peeved. They didn't look that bad, did they? Perfectly capable of making it through the rest of the admittedly very long day and picking up their son and making dinner. Now that they thought about it, perhaps they were grateful that their coworker had convinced them to go home. They could at least rest and start to make soup before Junior got home, so that they wouldn't have to entertain an easily-bored three year old while making dinner.

They parked their car and walked into their house, minimal coughing involved. The detective proceeded to remove their shoes then walk to the kitchen, with the aim of setting the soup up to boil for a while before taking a nap for the rest of the day. They set the stock in the pot to boil, and started to cut up the chicken and some carrots and celery they'd found in a cupboard. Then, they set out the noodles for later addition to the soup, maybe after they got Junior from daycare. Reducing the heat to low, they threw the ingredients into the stock, added some herbs to the pot, and promptly began walking to their couch to lie down for a little while.

After they crossed the threshold between the kitchen and the living room, the world got very sideways for them very suddenly. They hadn't even noticed they were feeling lightheaded, really. Well. That left them with the option of either staying smack where they were, or crawling to the sofa in order to at least try to spare themself from future back pain. Their body made the choice for them, however, and the detective slipped into unconsciousness.

---

Waldo had been watching. He simply couldn't help himself! His detective was enrapturing. So, when he watched them collapse through their kitchen window, he began to debate the pros and cons of going in to assist them. They appeared to be dead to the world, so they wouldn't be able to attempt an arrest on him, and if he helped them out a little now, then they would be fit to play his game faster than if he didn't. On the other hand, his dear detective could wake up, and thus spoil all the waiting that Waldo had been doing to advance his game.

Well. What was life without a little risk, right? Waldo twirled his cane, and appeared before the detective's prone form. This close, he noted that they were shivering, despite the thick sweater they were wearing. Bending down, he gave them a gentle poke with his cane, and all he got in return was a faint groan. Probably safe to pick them up, then. Waldo scooped his detective up and carried them to their bed. Uncharacteristically gently, he lifted the covers aside and set the detective down, then draped the blankets back over them.

Good Christ, they had been burning alive. Were humans supposed to be that warm? That wouldn't stand. Unfortunately, Waldo didn't exactly… know how to deal with that. THis did, however, present an excellent opportunity to rifle through the detective's cabinets in search of both something that would assist with their bout of illness and more information on who they had been before Waldo had begun his game with them.

He took off for the kitchen, taking his time in the halls to look at any pictures he saw hanging there. There were stunningly few with the dear detective's late wife, which did make sense from a feelings standpoint. It would be hard to see your dead wife every day, wouldn't it? Waldo assumed so. Having successfully made it to the kitchen, Waldo began rifling through the detective's cupboards. He found the cabinet which boasted several different medicines of various kinds, and pulled out the bottle that claimed to reduce fever and inflammation. He took them back up to the detective, along with a cloth that he had found and soaked in cold water. Couldn't have his detective's brain burning up.

Waldo set the cloth on the detective's head, and set the bottle of medicine on the stand next to their bed. He knew that Junior would have to be picked up from daycare later (he watched), so he set an alarm for 4 P.M. on their clock. Then, he sat and watched the detective shiver under the covers.

He kept that up for a while. Only to make sure that his detective wouldn't somehow pass before Waldo got to begin his game again. As the clock ticked nearer to four, his detective stopped shivering quite as much. Waldo removed the compress and placed a hand on their head, smiling when he realized the fever had broken while he watched. Standing and leaving the medicine very obviously by their alarm clock, Waldo walked back out to the kitchen and left a letter next to the pot of soup on the stove, then promptly exited the house before his detective woke up.

---

With a jolt, the detective woke and scrambled to turn off the irritating beeping of their alarm.

Wait.

Alarm? They hadn't set an alarm, they didn't think. And they hadn't fallen asleep in bed, right? The detective looked at the clock, and realized that it was already time to pick up Junior. God, what had happened? At least their fever appeared to have broken while they were out.

Unsettled, the detective stood up and raced to the kitchen. A little jolt of fear shot through them as they spotted the red envelope on their counter. That explained… not very much, now that they were thinking about it. What had Waldo been doing in their house? Why was he there in the first place? Was anyone dead? The detective picked up the letter and opened it.

"Dear detective,

Do take better care of yourself. It's not very becoming to fall so easily to illness.

Yours,

Waldo"

The detective scoffed. It wasn't exactly their fault, was it? Anyway. They stirred the soup, turned the heat down a little more, and raced out the door to pick up Junior on time.

They missed the flash of red and white standing at the end of the drive.

#ltww #lumpy touch where's waldo #lumpy where's waldo #reblog

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jangles28 · 16 days ago

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[i'm New here... decided that my first contribution to this fandom should be a piece about that time waldo made the detective disarm bombs. i hope it is Enjoyable...]

The detective sped along the highway. They had found a startlingly red note in their office, signed by Waldo, telling them to come to the campground. The detective was still reeling from the discovery of Detective McGuy, and they were desperate to catch Waldo before any more harm was done. They got to the lot of the campground about five minutes later, parked their car, got out, and started scanning the crowd for the red and white they knew signified the killer.

Stunningly, there were no bodies that the detective could see, but after the McGuy stunt, they couldn’t be sure. A scant few moments later, they saw a flash of glasses and a smirk over by the log cabin. Sprinting through the few people in the campground, they heard a faint beeping, but they discounted it as they ran Waldo down.

The detective managed to get behind Waldo and grab one of his arms. Waldo turned around, chuckling.

“Very sneaky, detective! Got me.”

The detective saw red. They started to speak, but Waldo raised his other hand to cut them off.

“Time to make a choice,” he smirked, and continued. “You can either take me in, or defuse the four bombs that I hid for you!”

Waldo hooked his cane around their arm and twisted, then pushed the detective away from him with the ferrule.

“I already know what you’re going to do. Good luck, detective!” Waldo cackled, arms spread wide. The detective lunged back at him, hoping to catch him and then disarm the bombs after, but Waldo simply shook his head and disappeared, laughing. Having expected to run into something, the detective wasn’t prepared to hit thin air, and fell over. Outraged, the detective picked themself off of the ground, and began looking around for any hint of the bombs.

—

Waldo hadn’t gone far. He wanted to watch this new detective puzzle out the test he’d left. They stood up, looking delightfully furious, and started scanning the grounds. Waldo hadn’t made it too hard to find the explosives, but the detective was going to have to act fast if they wanted everything in the area to remain intact, themself included.

The detective ran over to the cabin. Maybe they’d noticed something there earlier? His devices weren’t exactly quiet. Waldo moved to ensure that he would be able to see everything they did. He watched them look up, and saw their eyes widen when they spotted the bomb. They weren’t the most gifted in the height department, but he was sure that they would figure something out. Maybe drag that bench over? Ask someone taller to lift them up, perhaps? Both would be entertaining, but he wasn’t expecting the detective to jump up and start climbing the logs to get to the explosive.

Waldo looked on with interest. A dangerous move, to be sure, but if they were confident enough in their physical ability to get the bomb down without triggering it, then all the better for him. Stunningly, the detective managed to get a solid hold on the bomb, and begin the nerve wracking (for them) trip back down the wall. Once their feet were back on solid ground, they started to examine the bomb. They turned the bomb over in their hands for what seemed like a dangerously (again, for them) long time, then pulled out the letter that Waldo had left for them. Waldo’s grin grew wider. How clever this detective was. McGuy wouldn’t have thought of that, for sure. Waldo’s mood sank a bit upon remembering his last detective. McGuy simply threw Waldo’s clues away, not heeding his hints and warnings, hence why he was in an unfortunate number of pieces right now.

Back to his new detective. Looking trepidatious, they were poking at some numbers on the bomb’s keypad. After a few seconds, the bomb went dead. The detective sagged a little with relief, then began searching for the next bombs. They walked left a little, listening for the tell-tale ticks of the explosives. They looked down at the letter again, and then moved over toward one of the camper’s RVs in the center of the clearing. They repeated the disarming process successfully with the second bomb, and got started on finding the third.

Waldo’s hopes were growing for this detective. Clearly, they understood that when he sent them notes, they were not to be ignored. And, as a bonus, their enraged expressions entertained Waldo to no end. The detective had found the bomb he’d planted on a parked car, and they’d begun disarming it. After the third, however, his new detective started to look a bit panicked. They looked around, growing more frantically as the seconds ticked on. They didn’t know this, of course, but they had a scant ten minutes left to find and disarm the final bomb.

Waldo simply looked on as the detective scrambled to find his last bomb. He considered this one to be the easiest to find, honestly, but the detective seemed to be having a difficult time. It would be a downright shame if this one died so soon after being put on his case. Waldo was excited to play with them, but if they couldn’t solve this simple puzzle, perhaps it wasn’t meant to be. With a mere three minutes left on the timer, the detective located the final bomb. Their hands shaking a little, they pulled out his letter again, and entered the corresponding numbers on the keypad. They exhaled audibly and sagged with relief. With one last look around, they began the trek back to their car to file this incident.

From just beyond the treeline, Waldo grinned. This detective would do excellently. He appeared in their car, and left a different letter for them to find. The detective turned and spotted him in the seat, and with one final laugh, Waldo disappeared from their view for the last time that day.

—

“Excellently done, dear detective.

Shame you couldn’t catch me

this time, but your drive is admirable.

Yours,

Waldo.”

#reblog #ltww #lumpy touch where's waldo #lumpy where's waldo

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