turps | (no subject)

The festival was a wash out today so we ended at the beach watching the storm across the ocean. It was so beautiful, the sky was dark grey, the ocean almost the same colour as the rain swept down and lightening forked across the sky. It's still raining now, I don't think it's stopped all day.

We went to my nanna's on the way home. Grandad sounds terrible, nanna was walking him around the garden when we got there and he could hardly breathe when he got inside. As we were leaving she took me aside and said that he's got a tumour behind his eye but they don't know what kind until they do tests. I doubt it'll be good news, he's went downhill so rapidly, turning from a man who loves his garden into someone who can't see and spends his life sitting in a chair. It's nanna who I feel sorry for. They got together in the war and haven't spent a night apart since he came home, she was crying when she told me. She's decided not to tell grandad which is probably the best decision. I doubt he'd understand anyway. His memories are of the past now, fighting in Africa and coming home to his wife and two small boys.

In happier news I'm still writing my ficlets and having fun with them. I like them because there's no real pressure. They're not the best things and aren't intended to be and that suits me fine just now until I get down to what I have to write.

So have another. This is for

livelikeumeanit who wanted Justin giving Chris a puppy.

Chris knows something is wrong, It’s impossible not to know, and after almost ten minutes of watching Justin look at him, opening his mouth the closing it again he’s about ready to explode. They’ve talked about everything from sports to JC’s latest outfit and when, after another awkward pause, the conversation is steered to Star Trek Chris reaches his limit.

“I don’t care if Archer is a better captain than Janeway. You don’t care. Just tell me already.” Chris looks at Justin, who’s sitting on the couch picking nervously at a cushion.

“I thought it was a good idea at the time,” Justin says, and drops the cushion before standing up and looking toward the door. “I saw him and thought of you and just had to buy it. Wait a minute.” He runs out of the room, and Chris hopes his guess is wrong, but it won’t be, he knows Justin too well.

Justin’s back within minutes, holding something against his chest, something black and so small only the tip of a nose is showing. “I saw him earlier, at that pet store in the mall. He’s a good dog, a pedigree; I checked and looked at all his papers.” Uncupping his hands, Justin adjusts his hold so he can show off the tiny puppy as he gently strokes across its fluffy head with one finger. “He was all alone, I couldn’t leave him there.”

“I hope you enjoy him,” Chris says flatly, deliberately missing Justin’s unspoken message. The puppy wiggles and yawns, showing a tiny pink tongue, then looks up to bite at Justin’s finger. “I’m going to get a drink.”

Deliberately not looking at the puppy, Chris walks from the room, torn between anger and sadness. He loves dogs, but it’s too soon and Justin should know that, but obviously doesn’t.

“It’s been over a year now.”

Chris turns around, unsurprised to see Justin behind him. “Nothing can replace Busta,”

“I know,” Justin’s closer now and he wraps his arms around Chris so the puppy’s in front of them both. “He’s not intended to. He reminded me of you, that’s all.”

Surprised, Chris finds himself looking at the puppy despite himself. Up close it has a stripe of brown down its head, two pointed ears that twitch at any sound and eyes so deep brown they look almost black. Unable to stop himself, Chris he strokes across its nose, then laughs when it latches onto his finger with tiny sharp teeth.

The puppy looks nothing like Busta, and that’s good, because Busta can never be replaced, but it doesn’t mean there’s no room in Chris heart for another dog. He thought there wasn’t, but as the puppy bites harder, he knows he was wrong as he falls hard and fast.

“You should have asked,” Chris says, and he leans back against Justin, watching as the puppy gives up on his finger and falls asleep. “But thank you.”