Atton Rand is good at running and drinking. (crackingwise) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-01-26 02:07:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, atton rand, isabela |
Oh, quit complaining.
Who: Atton and Isabela.
What: Meeting new friends.
When: Right after this text.
Where: Atton's house.
Rating: PG-13 for language and CUTENESS.
Status: Complete!
Isabela knocked on Atton’s door, shifting Churchill’s carrier to the other arm as he yowled. “Oh, quit complaining,” she told the cat. “You get to see your boyfriend.” She wasn’t sure why Atton had asked her to bring Churchill, but it wasn’t really a problem. They got along well.
Atton opened the door when he heard the bell, grinning brightly when he saw her and the carrier. “Hey, thanks for coming, and bringing the little guy.” He grinned, kissing her lightly and taking the carrier from her. Churchill wasn’t a light cat. “I’ve got someone I want you two to meet.”
“Is that so?” Isabela smiled, returning the kiss. “His Lordship always wants to see you anyway, you know that. I’m just the taxi driver.” She was teasing, of course; she always liked seeing him. She’d gotten used to it by now.
Smiling, Atton held up his hands. “Give me just a second, lemme go grab him.” He went into his bedroom for a moment before coming back out with a bundle wrapped in a blue blanket. It was snoring softly. “I didn’t have the heart to wake him.”
She went to sit on the couch next to her cat carrier, but as soon as she saw the bundle, Isabela was on her feet. “Did you have a child?” She looked down, amused, though she laughed softly when she saw the paw sticking out.
He nodded. “Yes. It hurt, and suddenly I’m worried about getting back to my svelte, pre-pregnancy figure.” He smiled, moving closer to Isabela, moving the blanket enough to expose the sleeping bulldog puppy within.
Isabela was not too proud to admit she melted. “Ohhhh!” She covered her hand with her mouth. “Shit, I never thought I even had a biological clock.” It was tiny and helpless and adorable.
“Don’t worry, you can’t have puppies anyway.” Atton couldn’t help the fond smile he was giving the animal. “A guy on the circuit breeds bullies and thought I’d want one. After being around his majesty so long, I thought maybe now’s the right time.”
“It’s adorable.” Isabela leaned over to look, not sure whether or not to put her hand close so the puppy could sniff. “Is it a boy or a girl? Wait. You wanted to make sure it gets on with my cat?” That was rather adorable.
“It’s a boy, and yeah.” He shrugged, figuring it was a perfectly reasonable thing to make sure his possible future dog got on with his girlfriend’s cat. The dog stirred a little, sniffing Isabela’s hand before licking it contentedly.
Isabela giggled. “That’s really sweet.” Both the dog and the vetting it for Churchill’s sake. “Have you thought of a name yet? I can’t believe how tiny it is.” She’d never seen anything so small and helpless. “I’m going to wait to let his Lordship out for a bit; let the poor dog get used to me before I show him a huge grumpy grey creature.”
“I haven’t. I wanted to make sure I was going to keep him before I named him.” The dog started to try to crawl into Isabela’s arms, making Atton smirk. “And, you’re stealing my dog. Awesome.”
“Oh, go make love to my cat like you do.” Isabela retorted amiably, giggling when the dog started making whimpering noises.
Atton laughed, moving to let Churchill out of his carrier. Atton was greeted with a grumpy sound, followed by mad purring. But then Churchill started to sniff the air, lifting his head and letting his nose work overtime.
“Oh, dear. Be good,” Isabela admonished her cat, not entirely sure what he’d do. “I don’t know if he’s ever been around other animals; I got him from a shelter.”
“We’ll find out.” Atton took the puppy, sitting down with him between his legs. He figured he could hold off any fights with his arms. He’d been through worse than some claws.
Isabela watched her cat, which approached Atton and the puppy slowly. She heard a low growl from Churchill, and she tensed, ready to swat her cat away if need be. “Is he just getting acclimated?”
Atton nodded. “His tail’s not fluffy. If he was gonna fight, he’d be in full on fluffball mode. But he’s just warning the little guy.” He couldn’t help but grin when the puppy growled playfully, yipping and bouncing.
Isabela still wasn’t entirely convinced; she still looked askance at the cat. She saw the puppy lean down, but when it showed its belly, she breathed a little easier. “That means ‘I won’t mess with you’, right?” It did make Churchill calm down, too.
“It does. It’s puppy for ‘let’s play’.” Atton laughed when the puppy playfully yipped again and ran off, looking over its shoulder for Churchill to run after him.
Miracle of miracles, Churchill ran after the puppy, which sent Isabela into laughter. “He runs like a baby elephant!” It was true; the cat ran with a lumbering walk she hadn’t seen before.
Atton snorted. “Oh my god, he’s got gut wobble.” He was trying not to laugh too loudly, but he couldn’t help it. Then the laughter turned to an ‘awww’ because the animals were rolling around, and after a few moments, Churchill licked the tiny puppy. The puppy made faint eeping sounds in reply.
“Aw!” Isabela flailed her hands a little. “Look what you made me do. That’s adorable.” Churchill had laid on his side and was now licking the puppy’s head.
Atton bit his lip. “God damnit, I hate having feelings.”
“Then you shouldn’t get a puppy.” Isabela pointed out. “But look at his little face, Atton. That’s kryptonite.” Churchill was still on his side, but now the puppy had moved to sit against the cat’s wobbly gut.
Snoring could be heard, and Atton flailed a little. “I’ve got to do something manly soon. Like... kill a bear or something.”
“Come skydiving with me.” Isabela suggested, grinning. “I don’t know, jumping out of a plane is ‘sufficiently manly, I think? Or at least sufficiently ballsy.”
“It’s fun, I liked it.” He grinned, moving to wrap his arms around her, kissing her cheek. “We can think of names for him too.”
“Oh, lord, I don’t know. He’s your dog, it should be your final say.” Isabela leaned on him, smiling. “Churchill got his name from the shelter, but I kept it because he’s so dignified and stately.” Except not really at all; she liked the irony.
“He certainly looks grumpy enough.” The puppy had rolled over onto its back again, snoring loudly, and Churchill was using him as a pillow. It felt domestic and nice, and he was a bit afraid that he wasn’t afraid more.
“Doesn’t he.” Isabela grinned broadly. “Is it cliche to call him something poker related? Lucky? Spade? Diamond might be more of a name for a girl.”
“He’s a boy. And name something Lucky, and it’s bound to be the worst luck ever. Name a dog that, and he’ll probably have liquid poo forever.” He pursed his lips in thought. “Teddy.”
“Unoriginal. Besides, he’ll think he’s a bear.” Isabela chuckled. “Um. Ace? Or something super manly. McQueen?”
“I was naming him after the president! How about Roosevelt?” He grinned, liking that. But dogs came better to names that ended in an ‘eee’ noise. “Teddy it is.”
“Wait, no. Frankie.” Isabela chuckled. “Franklin Roosevelt was the president when Churchill was in office.” If he said no, she understood, but she couldn’t help but feel clever, damn it.
“Frankie’s adorable!” He grinned, calling it out as a test run. “Hey, Frankie!” The puppy paused snoring for a moment, looked around for the source of the sound, then fell back asleep. “Eh, good enough. Frankie it is.”
Isabela couldn’t help but puff up. “I feel clever and useful.” She kissed Atton’s cheek, smiling. “Shall we let them make friends more? We can order in or something.” The or something would be fine with her, honestly, but she didn’t want to come off as obsessed or something. It bothered her that she worried what Atton thought of her.
“Yeah, let’s order in.” He smiled, turning his head to look at her, kissing her lightly. “Hey, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” What did he have in mind?
“Sometimes I get the feeling you’re nervous around me. Everything okay?” She had to know he was nuts about her, right? He didn’t think he’d been entirely subtle.
She would have been surprised, had she not remembered Atton was a poker player. She smiled, uncharacteristically shy. “Yeah, s’fine. Just I like you, and the last bloke I liked beyond one night stand time was the husband. Bit rusty.” That was true enough. She did want to make him laugh, though. “I also like shagging, but don’t want you to think I’m some manner of succubus.”
He smiled. “You’re not. Succubi would’ve tried to steal more shit by now, just a hunch.” He looked at her, shaking his head. “I’ve never been married. Not a lot of steady girlfriends either - a couple off and on, but between jail and being a bit nutso after I left the Force... yeah. Not a lot of time for playing house. But I like you. I mean, I gave you my key. I trust you to find my embarrassing porn. And my terrible movie collection? You can see it whenever you want.”
“The embarrassing porn? You do like me.” Isabela laughed, kissing him. “No, it’s fine. Just a bit out of my depth right now, and that’s weird for me. Don’t really have to play house, unless it’s for the children.” She chuckled, seeing that the puppy had now curled up onto his side against her cat. “”I really just like spending time with you. But I do have a libido, and I’ve been called a whore before.” She usually shrugged it off, but it would actually bug her if Atton gave her any grief.
“I like playing house.” He’d wrapped an arm around her waist in a brief hug before standing up to look for menus. “Wait, wait, someone was mad at you because you wanted too much sex. Did they not have a penis, or something? Or eyes? I mean, you’ve seen yourself before, right?”
Isabela laughed, and she might actually have blushed, even. “You’re sweet. And I don’t know, this country’s still awfully shitty about women who enjoy shagging. God forbid you be bisexual, as well. You get used to acting hard to get.” It was refreshing that she didn’t have to do that with him.
“Isabela, I’d pay money to look at you. I’m shocked that more men and women aren’t kneeling at your feet, crying and gnashing their teeth.” He returned with menus, smiling at her. “I like you for you. I like that you like sex. I like it too. I like it with you, if you haven’t noticed, and … I know how you feel, kinda, I feel the same way about telling people about the jail thing.”
That merited a kiss, and she gave him one. “I don’t give a damn that you left the army because it was too bloody much. It’s not as though you killed a baby.” If anything, it spoke well of his humanity, that he couldn’t handle killing anymore. But that would be a trifle emasculating to actually say. Isabela just smiled crookedly instead. “I suppose we’re both lucky.”
“Well. That’s on the schedule for next week. I can cross it off if you don’t want me to.” He grinned at her, kissing her cheek lightly.
“Would you?” Isabela smiled, but her thought was interrupted by puppy yelping. Frankie had woken up and was dancing around, hopping up and down. “Does he need to wee or something?”
“I will.” Atton couldn’t help but laugh at the little guy. “Yeah, that’s his potty dance. He’s been doing really good so far - I think he just likes going outside, and I’ve been lucky and he’s been doing his business there anyway? I’ve got puppy pads all over anyway. C’mon, little man!” Frankie ran over to the sound of his dad’s voice, and Atton was thankful for a backyard. “Can His Highness come too?”
“He doesn’t go outside normally, but the yard is fenced, right?” It was mildly embarrassing that she hadn’t looked when she’d spent time at his place.
“It is, yeah.” Frankie was already out chasing leaves, distracted for a moment only by needing to piddle.
“Why not, then.” Isabela went over and picked up the cat, ignoring his grumble. “It’ll do him good to get fresh air.” She walked over toward the door and opened it with an elbow. “Look at all this, darling,” she told the cat, setting him down and immediately laughing when Churchill hunched his back. “Does the grass feel odd?”
Atton cracked up too. “Probably smells weird too.” Soon enough Frankie was running around, trying to get Churchill to chase him and play with him.
Churchill never started to run, but he did move faster, pawing at the puppy and grumbling. “I think his paws will adjust.” Isabela sounded conspiratorial. “He’s such a drama queen.”
“He seems to be enjoying himself.” Atton beamed. “Isabela? I’m glad you’re here. Don’t … doubt that I care about you.”
That took her off guard, honestly. She looked over at him, surprised, but oddly touched. “I don’t,” she said, smiling almost shyly. “I like you very much.”
He smiled, taking her hand and watching the animals play. It was peaceful and he felt happy for the first time in a long time.