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tweedandtinsel2010-12-04 04:52 pm
oxfordtweed) wrote in tweedandtinsel2010-12-04 04:52 pm
Affections
Title: Affections
Fandom: Hot Fuzz
Character/s: Nicholas, Danny, a few furry OCs
Word Count (chapter/total): 2,100
Rating: PG, for suggestiveness
Summary/Warnings: Nicholas finds something he cares about more than that damn plant.
Fandom: Hot Fuzz
Character/s: Nicholas, Danny, a few furry OCs
Word Count (chapter/total): 2,100
Rating: PG, for suggestiveness
Summary/Warnings: Nicholas finds something he cares about more than that damn plant.
Nicholas wasn't aware he had fallen asleep until the crash outside woke him up with a start. Danny had apparently fallen asleep too, because he seemed every bit as confused and disoriented as Nicholas felt. the DVD was still on, and had apparently just gotten to the good bit. The building was about to explode, or whatever DVDs did at the good bit.
"What was that'?" Danny asked the room.
Nicholas slowly got up from the sofa, reaching for an old beaten cricket bat Danny liked to keep around. Now he knew why. "Stay here," he said.
The noise -- and logically, whoever had caused it -- was in the garden, so that's where Nicholas went, slowly making his way to the back door. Another loud crash cut through the air just as he reached for the front door, pulling it open slowly with the cricket bat at the ready.
The assortment of old, broken lawn furniture and broken this and that from around the flat that had been stacked neatly was now a scattered pile of broken assortment. Nicholas began to suspect that whoever was responsible for the mess was between the ages of ten and fourteen, and there on a dare. It would not have been the first time. He lowered the cricket bat, but only slightly, on the chance that whoever it was had been there for more sinister reasons than just trying to snap a photograph through the kitchen window.
A terrible screech came from somewhere under the mess, and a bit of thrashing caused more of it to cave in on itself. Glad to have grabbed the cricket bat for a whole new assortment of reasons, Nicholas used it to try to move the debris from whatever creature had been unfortunate enough to get caught in the collapse. It took a few minutes, as he wasn't entirely sure where the poor animal was. Another drawn out yowl, and a flash of orange alerted Nicholas' attention, and he finally noticed the small triangular ear.
"Oh, my goodness," he said, startled. He quickly bent to move a bit of plyboard from the pile, revealing a small kitten, tangled up in what appeared to be what was left of a spool of fishing line. He managed to break the line free from the broken chair that the kitten had somehow found itself tied to, and then gathered the animal up in his arms, taking it inside with him. He tossed the cricket back onto the ground, and made a path straight into the kitchen.
"What did you bring in, now?" Danny asked, watching Nicholas with wonder.
"It's a cat," Nicholas asked, fetching a small pair of scissors before returning to the sofa. "Here. Help me. Before it hurts itself." The kitten was still badly tangled in the fishing line, and had begun to thrash madly in Nicholas' arms. Danny frowned at the small animal, not entirely sure how to help. "Hold on to the back of his neck," Nicholas instructed, showing Danny how to grab the lose skin there.
"Won't that hurt him?" Danny asked nervously.
"That's what it's for," Nicholas said. "Now, come on. Before it hurts itself."
Danny held onto the kitten the way Nicholas had shown him, and was surprised when it stopped thrashing almost completely. One of its legs still kicked, and its head twisted back and forth, but it otherwise remained still enough for Nicholas to cut it free of the fishing line. Once he managed to remove all of it from the stranglehold it had on the small kitten, Nicholas again took the animal in his arms and went to the kitchen. After quickly throwing the fishing line in the bin, he found a small bowl from one of the cupboards and filled it with water. Danny watched with interest as Nicholas put the water in the corner of the kitchen, making sure that the kitten knew it was there. It didn't take long at all before the kitten found the water, drank some, and then spilled the rest.
"What you gonna do with him?" Danny asked from the entry way to the kitchen. "You gonna take him to the shelter, or somethin'?"
Nicholas looked up. "I don't like shelters," he started. "It's a very stressful environment for them." He looked down at the kitten, watching as it found a bit of floor dirt to play with. "I suppose I'll make up fliers at the station tomorrow, advertising that we found him, and if no one calls to claim him, I'll just keep him around until I find someone who wants a cat."
Danny watched the kitten on the floor, surprised that Nicholas wasn't putting up a fuss about the cat chewing on his shoe lace. "You sure you can handle a cat?" he asked sceptically.
Nicholas shrugged. "We had two of them when I was a kid. My mum preferred them to dogs, because you don't have to worry about being home for them at a certain time, and you don't have to worry about taking them for walks."
This surprised Danny. "Never took you as a cat person," he said as Nicholas bent to pick up the ginger kitten, scratching it lightly behind the ears.
"What you gonna name him?" Danny asked, watching Nicholas tease it with an stray cord from a pair of his pyjamas.
"I've had him two days," Nicholas said simply. "If we name him, we'll get attached. Someone could still claim him."
Danny frowned lightly. "You seem pretty attached to him, already," he said. "You shouldn't be playing with him if you don't want to get attached."
Nicholas shook his head. "I am not attached," he insisted. "I'm just trying to keep him happy, so he doesn't get overly stressed. He's probably still traumatized from getting caught in the mess outside."
"He ain't traumatized," Danny said, rolling his eyes. "He's a cat. He only knows when he's hungry, and which shoes are the most expensive. An' he only knows that, so that he can puke in the most expensive pair you got."
Nicholas looked up suddenly. "Did he get sick in your shoe?" he asked.
Danny shook his head. "No," he said. "Not yet." He watched the cat for a few moments longer. "He did piss on my clean washing, though."
"You miss him, don't you?" Danny asked, doing a rotten job at ignoring Nicholas' not-sulking.
"He was never mine to begin with," Nicholas pointed out, doing a rotten job at pretending to watch the DVD. "You can't miss something you never had."
Danny considered this for a few moments, while he pretended to watch the DVD. It was Die Hard, which he could recite in his sleep, so he wasn't missing much. "You ever consider going an'gettin ' a cat of your own?" he suggested before he could stop himself. "I'm sure there are plenty of traumatized cats at the shelter what needrescuin'."
"I'm not home often enough to take care of an animal," Nicholas said, a hint of sadness creeping into his voice.
"You said so yourself that cats are fine by themselves," Danny said, not sure why he was trying to convince Nicholas to go get a furry demon of his own.
Nicholas sighed and continued to pretend to watch John McClane walk around without shoes. "I don't know," he said after a moment.
Beer? Check. Shoot 'Em Up on DVD? Check. Clean shirt, because he would certainly be too pissed to find his way home? Check.
Danny knocked on Nicholas' door, still not entirely comfortable with the whole "let yourself in" situation that Nicholas insisted on. The neighbours liked to talk enough, as it was. It took a few moments for Nicholas to finally open the door, and it took Danny a few moments longer to realize what was so different about Nicholas.
Well, there was the small bald kitten head poking out from the front of Nicholas' jumper, for one. It seemed content to be inside Nicholas' jumper, but it was still an odd place to keep a kitten.
"Nicky, what's that?" Danny asked, cautiously stepping past Nicholas.
"Spot," Nicholas said simply.
"Spot's a dog's name," Danny pointed out, taking the beer to the kitchen, and putting his shirt and DVD on the sofa on the way.
"And Nicky's a girl's name, but you insist on calling me that," Nicholas said simply, shutting the door and following Danny.
It took Danny a few moments of staring at the oddly-placed kitten to register why it looked so not-cat-like. "You really weren'tkiddin' about shelters bein ' stressful," he said. "Is he sick? Where's all his hair?" He wanted to reach out and scratch it behind its ears, but was worried he might hurt the sickly creature.
"He's not sick," Nicholas said, adjusting the kitten, upon which he had apparently bestowed the completely unfitting moniker 'Spot'. "It's just the breed. I didn't think he'd last long in the shelter, with the cold weather."
Danny frowned at the creature. "What good's an animal if it can't keep itself warm?" he said. "Hardly seems low-maintenance if you gotta keep it in your jumper all the time."
As though to prove a point, Nicholas removed the kitten -- seemed far too small to be away from its mother -- from the front of his jumper and put it on the sofa. It immediately started mewing loudly. "I want him to get used to being around me," Nicholas explained as he fetched himself a beer.
"Sounds like he has to get used to bein' alone," Danny pointed out. He took a beer for himself, and put the rest in the refrigerator before returning to the front room, kicking off his shoes near the sofa.
'Spot' was still having his own personal abandonment crisis, and continued to make as much noise as possible no matter what Danny tried. It did not seem to want to be tickled, scratched, picked up, or even touched. At least, not by Danny. As soon as Nicholas sat down and put the kitten on his lap, it became immediately quiet.
"You haven't had that thing twenty four hours, and you're spoilin' it rotten, already," Danny said. "He's gonna have to learn to stick up for himself sometime."
Nicholas shook his head as he found the DVD and got up -- Spot still in tow -- to que it up on the player. "He's just scared," he said simply. "It's a brand new environment for him."
He joined Danny back on the sofa, eager to see what sort of insanity had been brought over this time. Eventually, Spot warmed up to the idea of exploring the cottage on his own, leaving Danny and Nicholas alone on the sofa. Some time around this year's winner for "most creative use of a carrot," Spot found Danny's left shoe, and puked in it.
Danny was not at all surprised to see that Spot had been forced to wear a small knitted cat jumper. He was even less surprised to notice that Spot's jumper had a small silver badge stitched into the chest. A delightful combination of useless and degrading that he'd never expect to ever see in Nicholas' possession. Slightly more surprising, however, was what appeared to be dirt smeared on its head.
"What happened to Constable Kitty Cat?" Danny asked, noticing that Nicholas had the same dirt on his hands.
Nicholas sighed. "Left the bedroom door open," he explained, going to wash his hands in the sink. "I don't think the lily's going to make it, this time."
Danny cringed. Nicholas had always loved that stupid plant, and now some stupid cat had eaten it. "I didn't know cats ate plants," he mused.
"They don't, necessarily." Nicholas plucked Spot up from the ground and ran a wet cloth over his head, struggling to keep the kitten still. Eventually, the kitten won, and Nicholas returned it to the floor, letting it run off and hide -- probably in the clean washing.
"At least he's not cryin' no more," Danny pointed out, following Nicholas into his bedroom.
"I'm just worried now, how he'll handle it if I have to leave town for any reason," Nicholas said, tossing the soiled towel into the hamper.
There were still bits and pieces of peace lily here and there, but Danny used up all his will power not to say anything. He sat down on the edge of Nicholas' bed, watching for a few moments as Nicholas rushed back and forth, trying to clean up what was left of the carnage. It didn't take long before he started to get dizzy, and reached out to pull Nicholas down onto the bed beside him.
"Listen," he said, wrapping his arm around Nicholas' waist. "I think it's sweet an' all that you're frettin' over your new kitty, but he'll be fine. That's the point of a cat, yeah?"
Nicholas smiled lightly. "You're probably right."
Something glass chose that moment to crash onto the ground. Nicholas cringed and started to get up, but Danny pushed him onto his back. "Leave it," he said. "It'll still be there to clean up when we're done."
"What was that'?" Danny asked the room.
Nicholas slowly got up from the sofa, reaching for an old beaten cricket bat Danny liked to keep around. Now he knew why. "Stay here," he said.
The noise -- and logically, whoever had caused it -- was in the garden, so that's where Nicholas went, slowly making his way to the back door. Another loud crash cut through the air just as he reached for the front door, pulling it open slowly with the cricket bat at the ready.
The assortment of old, broken lawn furniture and broken this and that from around the flat that had been stacked neatly was now a scattered pile of broken assortment. Nicholas began to suspect that whoever was responsible for the mess was between the ages of ten and fourteen, and there on a dare. It would not have been the first time. He lowered the cricket bat, but only slightly, on the chance that whoever it was had been there for more sinister reasons than just trying to snap a photograph through the kitchen window.
A terrible screech came from somewhere under the mess, and a bit of thrashing caused more of it to cave in on itself. Glad to have grabbed the cricket bat for a whole new assortment of reasons, Nicholas used it to try to move the debris from whatever creature had been unfortunate enough to get caught in the collapse. It took a few minutes, as he wasn't entirely sure where the poor animal was. Another drawn out yowl, and a flash of orange alerted Nicholas' attention, and he finally noticed the small triangular ear.
"Oh, my goodness," he said, startled. He quickly bent to move a bit of plyboard from the pile, revealing a small kitten, tangled up in what appeared to be what was left of a spool of fishing line. He managed to break the line free from the broken chair that the kitten had somehow found itself tied to, and then gathered the animal up in his arms, taking it inside with him. He tossed the cricket back onto the ground, and made a path straight into the kitchen.
"What did you bring in, now?" Danny asked, watching Nicholas with wonder.
"It's a cat," Nicholas asked, fetching a small pair of scissors before returning to the sofa. "Here. Help me. Before it hurts itself." The kitten was still badly tangled in the fishing line, and had begun to thrash madly in Nicholas' arms. Danny frowned at the small animal, not entirely sure how to help. "Hold on to the back of his neck," Nicholas instructed, showing Danny how to grab the lose skin there.
"Won't that hurt him?" Danny asked nervously.
"That's what it's for," Nicholas said. "Now, come on. Before it hurts itself."
Danny held onto the kitten the way Nicholas had shown him, and was surprised when it stopped thrashing almost completely. One of its legs still kicked, and its head twisted back and forth, but it otherwise remained still enough for Nicholas to cut it free of the fishing line. Once he managed to remove all of it from the stranglehold it had on the small kitten, Nicholas again took the animal in his arms and went to the kitchen. After quickly throwing the fishing line in the bin, he found a small bowl from one of the cupboards and filled it with water. Danny watched with interest as Nicholas put the water in the corner of the kitchen, making sure that the kitten knew it was there. It didn't take long at all before the kitten found the water, drank some, and then spilled the rest.
"What you gonna do with him?" Danny asked from the entry way to the kitchen. "You gonna take him to the shelter, or somethin'?"
Nicholas looked up. "I don't like shelters," he started. "It's a very stressful environment for them." He looked down at the kitten, watching as it found a bit of floor dirt to play with. "I suppose I'll make up fliers at the station tomorrow, advertising that we found him, and if no one calls to claim him, I'll just keep him around until I find someone who wants a cat."
Danny watched the kitten on the floor, surprised that Nicholas wasn't putting up a fuss about the cat chewing on his shoe lace. "You sure you can handle a cat?" he asked sceptically.
Nicholas shrugged. "We had two of them when I was a kid. My mum preferred them to dogs, because you don't have to worry about being home for them at a certain time, and you don't have to worry about taking them for walks."
This surprised Danny. "Never took you as a cat person," he said as Nicholas bent to pick up the ginger kitten, scratching it lightly behind the ears.
"What you gonna name him?" Danny asked, watching Nicholas tease it with an stray cord from a pair of his pyjamas.
"I've had him two days," Nicholas said simply. "If we name him, we'll get attached. Someone could still claim him."
Danny frowned lightly. "You seem pretty attached to him, already," he said. "You shouldn't be playing with him if you don't want to get attached."
Nicholas shook his head. "I am not attached," he insisted. "I'm just trying to keep him happy, so he doesn't get overly stressed. He's probably still traumatized from getting caught in the mess outside."
"He ain't traumatized," Danny said, rolling his eyes. "He's a cat. He only knows when he's hungry, and which shoes are the most expensive. An' he only knows that, so that he can puke in the most expensive pair you got."
Nicholas looked up suddenly. "Did he get sick in your shoe?" he asked.
Danny shook his head. "No," he said. "Not yet." He watched the cat for a few moments longer. "He did piss on my clean washing, though."
"You miss him, don't you?" Danny asked, doing a rotten job at ignoring Nicholas' not-sulking.
"He was never mine to begin with," Nicholas pointed out, doing a rotten job at pretending to watch the DVD. "You can't miss something you never had."
Danny considered this for a few moments, while he pretended to watch the DVD. It was Die Hard, which he could recite in his sleep, so he wasn't missing much. "You ever consider going an'gettin ' a cat of your own?" he suggested before he could stop himself. "I'm sure there are plenty of traumatized cats at the shelter what needrescuin'."
"I'm not home often enough to take care of an animal," Nicholas said, a hint of sadness creeping into his voice.
"You said so yourself that cats are fine by themselves," Danny said, not sure why he was trying to convince Nicholas to go get a furry demon of his own.
Nicholas sighed and continued to pretend to watch John McClane walk around without shoes. "I don't know," he said after a moment.
Beer? Check. Shoot 'Em Up on DVD? Check. Clean shirt, because he would certainly be too pissed to find his way home? Check.
Danny knocked on Nicholas' door, still not entirely comfortable with the whole "let yourself in" situation that Nicholas insisted on. The neighbours liked to talk enough, as it was. It took a few moments for Nicholas to finally open the door, and it took Danny a few moments longer to realize what was so different about Nicholas.
Well, there was the small bald kitten head poking out from the front of Nicholas' jumper, for one. It seemed content to be inside Nicholas' jumper, but it was still an odd place to keep a kitten.
"Nicky, what's that?" Danny asked, cautiously stepping past Nicholas.
"Spot," Nicholas said simply.
"Spot's a dog's name," Danny pointed out, taking the beer to the kitchen, and putting his shirt and DVD on the sofa on the way.
"And Nicky's a girl's name, but you insist on calling me that," Nicholas said simply, shutting the door and following Danny.
It took Danny a few moments of staring at the oddly-placed kitten to register why it looked so not-cat-like. "You really weren'tkiddin' about shelters bein ' stressful," he said. "Is he sick? Where's all his hair?" He wanted to reach out and scratch it behind its ears, but was worried he might hurt the sickly creature.
"He's not sick," Nicholas said, adjusting the kitten, upon which he had apparently bestowed the completely unfitting moniker 'Spot'. "It's just the breed. I didn't think he'd last long in the shelter, with the cold weather."
Danny frowned at the creature. "What good's an animal if it can't keep itself warm?" he said. "Hardly seems low-maintenance if you gotta keep it in your jumper all the time."
As though to prove a point, Nicholas removed the kitten -- seemed far too small to be away from its mother -- from the front of his jumper and put it on the sofa. It immediately started mewing loudly. "I want him to get used to being around me," Nicholas explained as he fetched himself a beer.
"Sounds like he has to get used to bein' alone," Danny pointed out. He took a beer for himself, and put the rest in the refrigerator before returning to the front room, kicking off his shoes near the sofa.
'Spot' was still having his own personal abandonment crisis, and continued to make as much noise as possible no matter what Danny tried. It did not seem to want to be tickled, scratched, picked up, or even touched. At least, not by Danny. As soon as Nicholas sat down and put the kitten on his lap, it became immediately quiet.
"You haven't had that thing twenty four hours, and you're spoilin' it rotten, already," Danny said. "He's gonna have to learn to stick up for himself sometime."
Nicholas shook his head as he found the DVD and got up -- Spot still in tow -- to que it up on the player. "He's just scared," he said simply. "It's a brand new environment for him."
He joined Danny back on the sofa, eager to see what sort of insanity had been brought over this time. Eventually, Spot warmed up to the idea of exploring the cottage on his own, leaving Danny and Nicholas alone on the sofa. Some time around this year's winner for "most creative use of a carrot," Spot found Danny's left shoe, and puked in it.
Danny was not at all surprised to see that Spot had been forced to wear a small knitted cat jumper. He was even less surprised to notice that Spot's jumper had a small silver badge stitched into the chest. A delightful combination of useless and degrading that he'd never expect to ever see in Nicholas' possession. Slightly more surprising, however, was what appeared to be dirt smeared on its head.
"What happened to Constable Kitty Cat?" Danny asked, noticing that Nicholas had the same dirt on his hands.
Nicholas sighed. "Left the bedroom door open," he explained, going to wash his hands in the sink. "I don't think the lily's going to make it, this time."
Danny cringed. Nicholas had always loved that stupid plant, and now some stupid cat had eaten it. "I didn't know cats ate plants," he mused.
"They don't, necessarily." Nicholas plucked Spot up from the ground and ran a wet cloth over his head, struggling to keep the kitten still. Eventually, the kitten won, and Nicholas returned it to the floor, letting it run off and hide -- probably in the clean washing.
"At least he's not cryin' no more," Danny pointed out, following Nicholas into his bedroom.
"I'm just worried now, how he'll handle it if I have to leave town for any reason," Nicholas said, tossing the soiled towel into the hamper.
There were still bits and pieces of peace lily here and there, but Danny used up all his will power not to say anything. He sat down on the edge of Nicholas' bed, watching for a few moments as Nicholas rushed back and forth, trying to clean up what was left of the carnage. It didn't take long before he started to get dizzy, and reached out to pull Nicholas down onto the bed beside him.
"Listen," he said, wrapping his arm around Nicholas' waist. "I think it's sweet an' all that you're frettin' over your new kitty, but he'll be fine. That's the point of a cat, yeah?"
Nicholas smiled lightly. "You're probably right."
Something glass chose that moment to crash onto the ground. Nicholas cringed and started to get up, but Danny pushed him onto his back. "Leave it," he said. "It'll still be there to clean up when we're done."