Candy Quackenbush can walk on water. (toitshour) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-05-14 00:13:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, candy quackenbush, remy lebeau (gambit) |
Who: Candy and Remy.
What: Pet shopping!
When: Monday afternoon.
Where: PetSmart.
Rating: PG!
Status: Complete!
Remy was enjoying himself. He’d caught up on work, and Candy was off school for the summer, so he’d had a day of relaxing and goofing around with his fiancee. Sounded good to him. He was trying to save money so they could go to New Orleans, but that was going to be a surprise. For now they’d just been walking around Anaheim, grabbing ice cream from a shop in a strip mall, enjoying the weather.
He did, however, pause when he saw the sign ahead of them. “Uh oh, Candy, maybe we should go the other way.” Remy was teasing. There was a parking lot up ahead to their left, with a PetSmart taking up the back of it.
She gave him her patented puppy eyes, blue and brown both shimmering with near-tears. “Pleaaaaase? I just want to coo over things, then we can leave. Promise.” Candy jumped onto his back, arms looping easily around his shoulders.
Remy whuffed, but it was more the surprise and less the weight; she weighed next to nothing. “Thank God you took the feathersteel off.” When they’d been caught in the craziness at Stark’s wedding, she’d done something and put invisible, weightless armor on him that she’d called feathersteel. Whatever it had been, the worst he’d gotten in that big shit show was stitches in his forehead.
But he smiled. “All right, all right, let’s let you squeal at the little animals.” Honestly, he’d have loved a dog, if they had a yard, but it seemed mean to him to coop up an animal.
“Of course I did, I’m careful.” She kissed the back of his neck as they trooped toward the PetSmart, but hopped off of him when they got to the door. She smiled when they saw a dog, but she reprimanded herself: small animals. The mice and such were cute, but she didn’t think she’d want to have one. They took a lot of cleaning.
Remy held the door for her when they headed in, and even he was struck by the puppies by the door. “One day, we gonna have a yard,” he told her. “Then we get one like this guy.” He was scratching the chin of a pit bull puppy, grinning when it panted at him.
Candy couldn’t help but coo when Remy scratched the dog. “It’s true. Soonish. But until then, maybe we should look at the little lizards?”
“Maybe.” He’d seen enough of them around home, but those, he figured, were poisonous. He obediently followed his fiance over to the cages, blinking when the first one he saw was the size of a puppy. “Sheeeeiiiit,” Remy murmured, dragging out the syllables. “What is that?”
“I think it’s an iguana,” Candy laughed. “I’ve heard they can do some damage when they get big, so probably not so much.”
“You right, I bet.” Remy slipped an arm around her waist, idly ambling around each cage. “Lookit the little garter snakes.” At least, he thought they were garter snakes; they were slim and small, and seemed to be able to stand each other’s company. Lot of snakes needed to be alone.
“Oh, lookit the little babies.” Candy smiled, leaning against Remy. “I like their noses.” But then she saw a lone turtle in a tank, a baby. The signage indicated it shouldn’t get very big.
Remy saw it too, cocking his head to one side. “Aw, look. He must be a baby, he’s so damn petit.” He’d always thought some reptiles were sort of cute, and turtles were among them.
Candy flailed a little. “Look, he’s not supposed to get too big.” She bounced on the balls of her feet. “Reeeeeemy, can we get him?”
Remy looked a little closer, chuckling at Candy’s begging. “Girl, people gonna think I’s your daddy or something, you beggin’ like that.” He watched the turtle move, smiling a little. “He is kinda cute. You think maybe the tank would fit on that big end table in the main room?” He knew turtles could leave their tanks, but he would need a home base.
She only responded by biting her lip in the way that she knew Remy liked best. “I think so. We should probably make sure that this is the kind of turtle that doesn’t get huge, though.” She managed to find a clerk to confirm the species.
“Smartass.” Remy watched as Candy went to ask some questions, then came back. “It gonna get much bigger? If not, then yeah, maybe we can make it work.”
“The clerk says no, and this book here says no too.” She pointed out the species. “He’s a painted turtle, and should only get to be about seven to ten inches. But he can live for up to thirty years, so if we ever break up, I’ll keep him.” She stuck out her tongue at that part; she obviously hoped that wouldn’t happen.
“You get custody as part of the divorce?” Remy kissed her just a little, mostly to make her laugh. “That’s fair, though I get visitation.” He was teasing, of course; he’d be damned if he’d ever let her go.
“You better not divorce me, old man.” Candy grumbled, bumping her hip with his. “Hey, little one.” She stroked the glass, amused when the turtle followed her vision.
“Jamais,” Remy murmured. Never. He kissed her forehead, laughing a bit when Candy made contact with the little guy. “Aw. I think he like you. You know anyt’in’ about how good turtles can see?”
“I don’t, no.” Candy smiled, stroking Remy’s cheek. “Think he’ll be good practice for little ones?”
Remy had been thinking that himself, and blushed a little. “Maybe, yeah.” He smiled a little. “Though can’t keep no little ones in a tank, Candy.” He couldn’t help but tease.
“Not for too long,” she quipped. She looked at the list of things that the turtle would need in the book and proceeded to go down the aisles to find them.
Remy followed her, both amused and happy. It was kind of a first step. A little life they were both responsible for. Though turtles were still lower-maintenance than babies. “Got everythin’?”
She nodded. “Everything but our little man.”
“Well, we can handle that quick enough.” Remy walked over toward the nearest employee, asking if he could get the turtle out of there for them. “How we gonna get him home, a big bag o’water or something?”
There was a cardboard carrier that was provided, and Candy couldn’t help but beam. “Lookit our baby. What’re we gonna name him?”
Ah, there. Remy hoisted up the tank, leaving Candy to carry the turtle - he was lighter. “Dunno; any pet names you always wanted to use?” He’d never really imagined having any kind of pet, he was usually on the move too much.
Candy looked at the turtle moving around in the container. “Bartholomew.”
“Bartholomew?” Remy echoed, laughing. “Why you wanna call him that?”
“I had a fish named that when I was little,” she murmured. Her father had flushed it one day when he was mad at her.
“Bartie for short.” Remy chuckled. “Okay, that works.” He smiled at her. “You think he gonna know his name one day?” He didn’t know how smart turtles were.
“I have no idea. We can hope.” Candy smiled, tiptoeing up to kiss Remy. “Thank you. For indulging me.”
“Mm. Ain’t a worry. Long as he ain’t gonna get too big, and he won’t.” Remy smiled, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close. “He sorta cute, et c’est vrai.”
“He looks like his daddy,” she beamed. Teasing was easy and fun, and kind of the currency of their relationship.
“I don’t look like no turtle.” Remy mock pouted.
“Yes you do, you’re adorable. And would be good in soup.” Candy teased brightly, ruffling his hair. “I love you, Cajun.”
Remy grumbled and fixed his hair, but he kissed her forehead, chuckling. “C’mon, let’s get him home. Love you too, belle femme.”
“Love you too, mon beau homme.” She lightly bumped his hip, glad that she was going to marry him someday.