The Bear and Barnacle

This would be hard enough, he thinks, if it were only raining. The wind turning his clothes from protection from the elements into a nearly rhythmic series of cold wet slaps makes it about forty times worse.

At least Val was a huge help, crawling around the roof marking all the places where water was coming through (they can't keep him off the roof, so they figured he might as well be useful). The chalk is washing down the shingles in thin lumpy streaks, but at least he can follow them to their source most of the time. They had to wrap him up in twine and one of Jack's shirts so the wind wouldn't catch his wings and tear them off.

Sure, the estate agent warned them. "The roof's a bit leaky," she said. She couldn't have been expecting monsoon season ... but the fact remains that they had to venture out to the hardware store to buy more buckets.

The bedrooms are already mostly patched up. Now he's over the kitchen. "A bit leaky." Ridiculous.

He labors away, exhausted but determined and spurred by the knowledge that inside this house there is always, always hot black coffee.