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starsfic2009-08-12 08:54 pm
starandrea) wrote in starsfic2009-08-12 08:54 pm
Entry tags:
"lights will guide you home and ignite your bones, and I will try to fix you" (coldplay)
This story is set a few hours after "In Or Out," and if you ever wanted to see me write K/Ziggy, this is pretty much what it would look like ♥ More hugs for them, please! (They don't actually hug in this story. I just think they should.)
Also, if you were wondering what happened to the puppy, you're not alone. I used to forget Jetson all the time. I don't know why I have such a blind spot when it comes to pets in stories... I almost always remember to feed my own dog.
For previous entries tagged "steering you home,"
click and scroll down (reverse chronology).
deserving
Ziggy was pretty sure Dr. K checked the cameras in the garage automatically. She never walked into a room without knowing who was inside, and she often came through a door already addressing them. It was probably smart--given how many times the base had been compromised--not to take for granted that she was safe.
It was also, he thought, kind of sad.
Still, he respected her paranoia and he didn't try to sneak up on her. He might possibly know where all the cameras were and exactly what their range was... But he also knew where the cannons were, and thanks to Dillon's green tape on the floor he'd learned to avoid those too. There were things that living in the garage taught you.
So when he found himself sitting on the floor behind the pool table, patting the puppy and conveniently invisible to any of the numerous cameras fixed on the training room doors, it was mostly an unconscious choice. He heard her footsteps when she headed for the kitchen, and he thought it was typical of her to wait until everyone else was gone before admitting she was hungry. But instead she walked right through, onto the garage floor--
Where she stopped and spun. Ziggy patted the puppy's ear reassuringly when it twitched, maybe registering the sudden attention. "I'm not talking to you," he said, waving in her direction.
"What are you doing here?" she blurted out.
"Because you are not talking to me," he continued. "That's why. If you're curious."
Dr. K looked around the garage like the other Rangers might be nearby and she had just missed them. "I thought everyone went to the park for the mayor's speech."
The puppy heaved a sigh, surprisingly big for such a little animal, and nestled her head more snugly against Ziggy's knee. "Really," he continued, patting the puppy's shoulder. "How hard is it to say, 'Good job, Ziggy'? 'I'm glad you didn't die, Ziggy'?
"Or even, 'Congratulations on not screwing up as much as usual, Ziggy,'" he added, warming to the topic. "Or maybe, 'You weren't my first choice for that morpher but hey, turns out you're better than nothing, Ziggy.'"
Dr. K was staring at him again. "What are you talking about?"
"Are you still mad at me for using your name?" he asked, frowning up at her. "Because, I don't know if you've noticed, but I apologized like a hundred times. And we did talk about this, you know: whether there are unspoken rules? Remember that conversation?"
"It's funny," she said, frowning back at him. "You not talking to me sounds a lot like you all the rest of the time. When presumably you are talking to me."
"Forget it," he said, holding up his hand and turning back to the puppy. "Until you can think of something nice to say, I'm not saying anything at all."
He didn't mean it, of course. He wasn't even mad at her, he was just... miffed. Yeah, miffed. That was it. Because seriously, it had been days now, and he was fine when she was giving everyone the cold shoulder. He just didn't see why he, in particular, should get nothing when everyone else was on the receiving end of post-twin friendliness.
"You can use my name," she said abruptly.
He blinked down at the puppy, still sleepy and unmoving at his side. Dogs didn't make you hallucinate, did they? He didn't know that much about them, but Dillon had gotten a book and Casey had promised that as long as they fed and watered her she'd be fine. With a little company.
He didn't know how much was "a little," and he figured it was better to give her too much than not enough. Especially since Casey's idea of "company" seemed to be attaching himself to someone 24/7.
"That was supposed to be nice," Dr. K added, and now she sounded kind of annoyed. "In case that wasn't clear."
"Yeah, sorry," Ziggy said, lifting his head to look at her again. "I thought you just said I could call you by your name."
"Not around the others," she snapped.
He considered that. "What about Dillon?"
"He doesn't use it," she said, and a funny look crossed her face before she shrugged. "He doesn't say it, anyway."
"No, I mean--" Really? He'd written it on her tray. "What about when he's around, does he count as others--that's what I meant."
"No." This time the look she gave him was clearly skeptical. "Obviously not."
"Oh, well excuse me for not psychically knowing," Ziggy said, rolling his eyes. "I think I need a decoder ring for your decoder ring."
She didn't say anything, but when he looked at her, she was frowning again.
The puppy's front paws twitched, one of them lifting as if to bat away an invisible annoyance. The eyes didn't open, though, and as far as Ziggy could tell she was still asleep. He patted her paws, just to see what would happen. There was no reaction.
"I'll tell people you're our mentor," he said after a moment. "If you want."
"I am your mentor," she said.
"Yeah, and I happen to be a very nice person," he retorted. "Who is, if I do say so myself, at least decently good at his job and an asset to the team. But you haven't gone out of your way to share that lately, have you."
"Look, I'm not good at this leadership thing," Dr. K told him. She said it like the idea itself was distasteful. "That's Scott's job. I'm not even supposed to have to interact with you face to face. I just design the technology and make sure it gets put together in a way that isn't a total loss. I can train you to use it, but what do I know about building confidence or... or being nice, or anything like that?"
Ziggy blinked at her. "You're nice," he said. "You're just a little... inattentive? Sometimes?"
"I'm not nice," she said. "I don't know how to be nice. I place no value on being nice. But Gem and Gemma have pointed out, perhaps correctly, that while Scott maintains the morale of his original teammates seemingly without effort, he has been less successful with you and Dillon."
"What? No," he protested. "Dillon likes Scott. I like Scott. I mean, obviously his hair isn't as great as mine, but other than a few jealousy issues on that front he does a great job as the Red Ranger."
"If Dillon told you to do something," she said, "and Scott told you to do something else, who would you obey?"
"Wait." Ziggy squinted at her. "What does that have to do with anything? What does that have to do with you being nice? 'Cause I'm not seeing the connection. Unless it's that you think you should be more like Scott--which, trust me, I think he's a great guy but one of him is plenty."
She sighed. "I'm just trying to provide some sense of stability in an environment that is by definition unpredictable. As I haven't had any training in this area, I'm not very good at it. Yet."
"Dr. K," he said, and she didn't seem to notice that he didn't use her name, which was exactly why he hadn't. "You don't have to do everything around here. There are eight people living in this garage, and I'm pretty sure most of us are capable of positively reinforcing each other as needed."
She gave him a blank look. "Then why aren't you talking to me?"
"Because you're not talking to me," he reminded her. "It doesn't have anything to do with positive reinforcement, or a stable work environment, or whatever. I'm just saying, as your friend, that if you're deliberately ignoring me? I'm deliberately ignoring you back."
"Why?" she wanted to know. "If I've done something you think is ineffective, why would you ignore it?"
Ziggy tried not to smile and failed completely. "Okay, Doc. Listen to what I'm saying, not to what I say I'm saying. I'm ignoring you because you won't say anything nice about me in front of the others, and I want to know why that's so hard."
He paused, staring at her, and then said, "What did I just tell you?"
"That you're ignoring me," she said, frowning.
"No," he said patiently. "That's what I said I'm doing."
"Why wouldn't you do what you say you're doing?" she wanted to know.
He kept one hand on the puppy's shoulder, but he spread his other hand out to the side. "Welcome to the real world, Doc. Fun place to visit, strange place to live, but you'll find most of the people worth knowing actually do swing by here from time to time, so it's worth it to learn the law of the land. As they say."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," she told him.
"No," Ziggy said, careful not to sigh. He looked down at the puppy beside him and wondered if all humans needed was food and water and "a little" company. "I'm getting that, actually."
There was another moment where he expected her to give up, to walk away, conversation over. On to... wherever she'd been going when she emerged from the training room. He tried to think of something else he could say that would help.
"Would you like a lollipop?" she asked.
He tilted his head up at her, wondering where that had come from.
"I mean, it works for Dillon," she blurted out. "When you get mad at him. He gives you a lollipop, and then you're not mad at him anymore."
Well, that was a gross oversimplification, but he thought now probably wasn't the best time to point it out. "I'm not mad at you," he said instead. "But," he added quickly, "I'll still take that lollipop."
Dr. K turned away, walked over to Dillon's car, and pulled open the driver's side door. She climbed in, almost swallowed by the bucket seat even as she leaned into the back. Ziggy gave the puppy a last pat before getting up to follow her. Did Dillon know she went into his car when he wasn't there?
Who was he kidding; of course Dillon knew. Ziggy went around the passenger side and got in, grinning as she handed him a lime green lollipop. "Thanks," he said, reaching back without looking. "You want one?"
"When did he get colors?" she asked.
They were sorted, if you knew what you were looking for. He pulled out a pineapple-flavored lollipop with a flourish. "Summer made fun of him," he said, offering the candy to her.
She twisted around, fitting easily between the steering wheel and the back of the seat even with her knees drawn up in front of her. "Thank you," she said, with sudden and unexpected courtesy. She didn't have any trouble with the wrapper.
"You know," Ziggy said after a moment. His own lollipop was sweet and sour at the same time, and he could see through the windshield that the puppy was waking up over by the pool table. "You're an excellent mentor, Kaia."
She froze, lollipop in her mouth and her fingers still wrapped around the stick. Then, after a moment, she pulled the lollipop free and repeated, "Thank you. Ziggy."
He smiled over at her. She gave him a brief smile in return before popping the lollipop back into her mouth. He just shrugged to himself when she didn't return the compliment. Baby steps.
A soft clicking sound and a little whine drew his attention to the ground beside the open passenger door, where he found the puppy staring up at him. Paws shifted and the tail wagged a couple of times as the puppy tried to find a way to climb in with him. He held his lollipop out of the way and pointed down at the floor, trying to discourage her.
"No, remember, Dillon said you're not allowed in the car," Ziggy told the puppy. "He specifically said--"
The puppy wagged harder at the sound of his voice, putting her front paws up on the bottom of the frame. "Oh, all right," Ziggy said, putting his lollipop back in his mouth. He leaned over and picked her up, trying to settle her in his lap while she scrambled for balance.
"Hold still," Ziggy mumbled around his lollipop. Dillon would know if she scratched the seat. How, Ziggy had no idea, since the car wasn't exactly pristine, but Dillon's eyes were ridiculous.
Then another hand entered his field of vision and the puppy stretched out her nose eagerly. Ziggy looked up in surprise as Dr. K gave the puppy's ear a tentative scratch. It was, as far as he knew, the first time she'd so much as touched the puppy.
She was smiling.
Ziggy sat back, one arm around the squirming bundle of fur and the other hand holding his lollipop while he told the puppy she was a good dog. She seemed as interested in Dr. K's colorless candy as she was in the fingers scritching under her chin, but she was easily thwarted.
"Your compassion and creative circumvention of other people's rules and assumptions," Dr. K said, apparently speaking to the puppy, "make you a valuable addition to this team. And I think--although I don't have a lot of experience in this area--they are particularly desirable traits in a friend, as well. Ziggy."
Ziggy stared at her, open-mouthed.
She looked up, and her smile was awkward. "I don't know if it's appropriate to express such sentiments in front of other people. Also, I find myself distinctly nervous about it. Even when you are my only audience."
"Oh, uh, that's... totally understandable," he said quickly. "But--unnecessary! I mean, because... there's nothing to be nervous about! After all, I am pretty awesome. I know how to take a compliment."
She tilted her head. "Is there a particular procedure for it?"
"Um--" He had to think about it. "Well, yeah. First you say thank you--so, thank you--and then, if you like the person, you compliment them back.
"Unless you complimented them first," he added, "and they were the one returning your compliment. Then you can just stop, because otherwise it gets kind of crazy."
"That's very complicated," she muttered. There was a quiet moment, like she was done, and then she glanced at him and back to the puppy quickly. "I wish I could remember."
That she had meant to say it was obvious. That she'd thought about it first was equally obvious. "Yeah," he said carefully. "Sorry about... you know, everything that happened to you."
"You know," she said flatly. "Dillon showed me the research you did."
"Well..." Ziggy shrugged, slightly more apologetic now than he'd been at the time. "He asked."
"You have remarkable sources," she told the puppy.
He frowned a little. "It kills me that they missed the kidnapping thing. How long ago was that? I mean, if you don't mind me asking?"
She shook her head. "I can't--" She broke off, and he realized belatedly that she had been shaking her head out of protest, not carelessness. "I mean..." She sounded upset, twisted up inside, and he wished he hadn't said anything.
"It doesn't matter," she said at last. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Forget I said anything," he promised. "Terrible question, my bad. Hey, look at this cute puppy. What are we going to call her? I was thinking we should name her for some kind of candy."
"December 2006," she blurted out. "That's what they tell me."
"Yeah?" Ziggy was careful not to change his tone of voice at all. "When you were at the lab?"
"I was always at a lab." She sounded disgusted, like she hated what she knew and what she didn't the same. "I guess. I don't know; I remember being locked in a concrete compound most of my life, so what do I know. They say I was only there two months before I broke out, but the rehab didn't work and by then it was too late anyway."
"But... you did get out," he said, almost a question when she stopped talking. Maybe she didn't want to say anything else, but he had to, to make sure she knew it was okay. "And you got your friends out."
"They're not even human anymore." She was looking at the puppy, so she didn't see him blink. She knew. Dillon had told him not to tell her, but she already knew? "It doesn't matter. They were in a labor camp because of me; they should hate me."
"They don't," Ziggy said, but she still wouldn't look at him. "I mean, it's obvious they don't. They love you."
She didn't answer, just shook her head again, and he thought she was crying. He waited a minute, maybe two--okay, three or four--and when it was clear she wasn't going to say anything else, but she hadn't left either, he put his hand on the puppy's head and ruffled her ears.
"Okay," he said. "So, what do you think? Caramel? Butterscotch?"
She made a little sound, choked by otherwise silent tears... almost a laugh. "Those are stupid names," she muttered. "We're not going to eat it."
"But she's very sweet," Ziggy countered. "Honey? We could call her Honey. Or Tapioca."
"I don't care what you call it," she informed him. She shifted, leaning sideways against the seat, and added, "It's just a puppy; why does it need a name?" before she stuck her lollipop back in her mouth and frowned half-heartedly at the little creature.
"She's a very cute puppy," he corrected. "And everyone deserves to be known. Look at this fluffy adorable thing and tell me she shouldn't have a home and a family and a little bed with her name on it. She's cute, right? C'mon, admit she's cute."
She glared at him, and if it was less effective when her eyes were red and her cheeks were still damp, he didn't tell her. "I'm going to call her Cutie if you don't," he warned her instead.
She rolled her eyes, pulling her lollipop out of her mouth momentarily, and said with obvious reluctance, "I suppose, in a certain light, she could be considered... not ugly."
"Yes!" He didn't bother to keep it from sounding like a cheer. "Excellent! She is very not ugly. We can work with that."
The look he received for this was, if not happier, at least less sad.
"And high up above or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
But if you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth"
~Coldplay
"Fix You"
Also, if you were wondering what happened to the puppy, you're not alone. I used to forget Jetson all the time. I don't know why I have such a blind spot when it comes to pets in stories... I almost always remember to feed my own dog.
For previous entries tagged "steering you home,"
click and scroll down (reverse chronology).
Ziggy was pretty sure Dr. K checked the cameras in the garage automatically. She never walked into a room without knowing who was inside, and she often came through a door already addressing them. It was probably smart--given how many times the base had been compromised--not to take for granted that she was safe.
It was also, he thought, kind of sad.
Still, he respected her paranoia and he didn't try to sneak up on her. He might possibly know where all the cameras were and exactly what their range was... But he also knew where the cannons were, and thanks to Dillon's green tape on the floor he'd learned to avoid those too. There were things that living in the garage taught you.
So when he found himself sitting on the floor behind the pool table, patting the puppy and conveniently invisible to any of the numerous cameras fixed on the training room doors, it was mostly an unconscious choice. He heard her footsteps when she headed for the kitchen, and he thought it was typical of her to wait until everyone else was gone before admitting she was hungry. But instead she walked right through, onto the garage floor--
Where she stopped and spun. Ziggy patted the puppy's ear reassuringly when it twitched, maybe registering the sudden attention. "I'm not talking to you," he said, waving in her direction.
"What are you doing here?" she blurted out.
"Because you are not talking to me," he continued. "That's why. If you're curious."
Dr. K looked around the garage like the other Rangers might be nearby and she had just missed them. "I thought everyone went to the park for the mayor's speech."
The puppy heaved a sigh, surprisingly big for such a little animal, and nestled her head more snugly against Ziggy's knee. "Really," he continued, patting the puppy's shoulder. "How hard is it to say, 'Good job, Ziggy'? 'I'm glad you didn't die, Ziggy'?
"Or even, 'Congratulations on not screwing up as much as usual, Ziggy,'" he added, warming to the topic. "Or maybe, 'You weren't my first choice for that morpher but hey, turns out you're better than nothing, Ziggy.'"
Dr. K was staring at him again. "What are you talking about?"
"Are you still mad at me for using your name?" he asked, frowning up at her. "Because, I don't know if you've noticed, but I apologized like a hundred times. And we did talk about this, you know: whether there are unspoken rules? Remember that conversation?"
"It's funny," she said, frowning back at him. "You not talking to me sounds a lot like you all the rest of the time. When presumably you are talking to me."
"Forget it," he said, holding up his hand and turning back to the puppy. "Until you can think of something nice to say, I'm not saying anything at all."
He didn't mean it, of course. He wasn't even mad at her, he was just... miffed. Yeah, miffed. That was it. Because seriously, it had been days now, and he was fine when she was giving everyone the cold shoulder. He just didn't see why he, in particular, should get nothing when everyone else was on the receiving end of post-twin friendliness.
"You can use my name," she said abruptly.
He blinked down at the puppy, still sleepy and unmoving at his side. Dogs didn't make you hallucinate, did they? He didn't know that much about them, but Dillon had gotten a book and Casey had promised that as long as they fed and watered her she'd be fine. With a little company.
He didn't know how much was "a little," and he figured it was better to give her too much than not enough. Especially since Casey's idea of "company" seemed to be attaching himself to someone 24/7.
"That was supposed to be nice," Dr. K added, and now she sounded kind of annoyed. "In case that wasn't clear."
"Yeah, sorry," Ziggy said, lifting his head to look at her again. "I thought you just said I could call you by your name."
"Not around the others," she snapped.
He considered that. "What about Dillon?"
"He doesn't use it," she said, and a funny look crossed her face before she shrugged. "He doesn't say it, anyway."
"No, I mean--" Really? He'd written it on her tray. "What about when he's around, does he count as others--that's what I meant."
"No." This time the look she gave him was clearly skeptical. "Obviously not."
"Oh, well excuse me for not psychically knowing," Ziggy said, rolling his eyes. "I think I need a decoder ring for your decoder ring."
She didn't say anything, but when he looked at her, she was frowning again.
The puppy's front paws twitched, one of them lifting as if to bat away an invisible annoyance. The eyes didn't open, though, and as far as Ziggy could tell she was still asleep. He patted her paws, just to see what would happen. There was no reaction.
"I'll tell people you're our mentor," he said after a moment. "If you want."
"I am your mentor," she said.
"Yeah, and I happen to be a very nice person," he retorted. "Who is, if I do say so myself, at least decently good at his job and an asset to the team. But you haven't gone out of your way to share that lately, have you."
"Look, I'm not good at this leadership thing," Dr. K told him. She said it like the idea itself was distasteful. "That's Scott's job. I'm not even supposed to have to interact with you face to face. I just design the technology and make sure it gets put together in a way that isn't a total loss. I can train you to use it, but what do I know about building confidence or... or being nice, or anything like that?"
Ziggy blinked at her. "You're nice," he said. "You're just a little... inattentive? Sometimes?"
"I'm not nice," she said. "I don't know how to be nice. I place no value on being nice. But Gem and Gemma have pointed out, perhaps correctly, that while Scott maintains the morale of his original teammates seemingly without effort, he has been less successful with you and Dillon."
"What? No," he protested. "Dillon likes Scott. I like Scott. I mean, obviously his hair isn't as great as mine, but other than a few jealousy issues on that front he does a great job as the Red Ranger."
"If Dillon told you to do something," she said, "and Scott told you to do something else, who would you obey?"
"Wait." Ziggy squinted at her. "What does that have to do with anything? What does that have to do with you being nice? 'Cause I'm not seeing the connection. Unless it's that you think you should be more like Scott--which, trust me, I think he's a great guy but one of him is plenty."
She sighed. "I'm just trying to provide some sense of stability in an environment that is by definition unpredictable. As I haven't had any training in this area, I'm not very good at it. Yet."
"Dr. K," he said, and she didn't seem to notice that he didn't use her name, which was exactly why he hadn't. "You don't have to do everything around here. There are eight people living in this garage, and I'm pretty sure most of us are capable of positively reinforcing each other as needed."
She gave him a blank look. "Then why aren't you talking to me?"
"Because you're not talking to me," he reminded her. "It doesn't have anything to do with positive reinforcement, or a stable work environment, or whatever. I'm just saying, as your friend, that if you're deliberately ignoring me? I'm deliberately ignoring you back."
"Why?" she wanted to know. "If I've done something you think is ineffective, why would you ignore it?"
Ziggy tried not to smile and failed completely. "Okay, Doc. Listen to what I'm saying, not to what I say I'm saying. I'm ignoring you because you won't say anything nice about me in front of the others, and I want to know why that's so hard."
He paused, staring at her, and then said, "What did I just tell you?"
"That you're ignoring me," she said, frowning.
"No," he said patiently. "That's what I said I'm doing."
"Why wouldn't you do what you say you're doing?" she wanted to know.
He kept one hand on the puppy's shoulder, but he spread his other hand out to the side. "Welcome to the real world, Doc. Fun place to visit, strange place to live, but you'll find most of the people worth knowing actually do swing by here from time to time, so it's worth it to learn the law of the land. As they say."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," she told him.
"No," Ziggy said, careful not to sigh. He looked down at the puppy beside him and wondered if all humans needed was food and water and "a little" company. "I'm getting that, actually."
There was another moment where he expected her to give up, to walk away, conversation over. On to... wherever she'd been going when she emerged from the training room. He tried to think of something else he could say that would help.
"Would you like a lollipop?" she asked.
He tilted his head up at her, wondering where that had come from.
"I mean, it works for Dillon," she blurted out. "When you get mad at him. He gives you a lollipop, and then you're not mad at him anymore."
Well, that was a gross oversimplification, but he thought now probably wasn't the best time to point it out. "I'm not mad at you," he said instead. "But," he added quickly, "I'll still take that lollipop."
Dr. K turned away, walked over to Dillon's car, and pulled open the driver's side door. She climbed in, almost swallowed by the bucket seat even as she leaned into the back. Ziggy gave the puppy a last pat before getting up to follow her. Did Dillon know she went into his car when he wasn't there?
Who was he kidding; of course Dillon knew. Ziggy went around the passenger side and got in, grinning as she handed him a lime green lollipop. "Thanks," he said, reaching back without looking. "You want one?"
"When did he get colors?" she asked.
They were sorted, if you knew what you were looking for. He pulled out a pineapple-flavored lollipop with a flourish. "Summer made fun of him," he said, offering the candy to her.
She twisted around, fitting easily between the steering wheel and the back of the seat even with her knees drawn up in front of her. "Thank you," she said, with sudden and unexpected courtesy. She didn't have any trouble with the wrapper.
"You know," Ziggy said after a moment. His own lollipop was sweet and sour at the same time, and he could see through the windshield that the puppy was waking up over by the pool table. "You're an excellent mentor, Kaia."
She froze, lollipop in her mouth and her fingers still wrapped around the stick. Then, after a moment, she pulled the lollipop free and repeated, "Thank you. Ziggy."
He smiled over at her. She gave him a brief smile in return before popping the lollipop back into her mouth. He just shrugged to himself when she didn't return the compliment. Baby steps.
A soft clicking sound and a little whine drew his attention to the ground beside the open passenger door, where he found the puppy staring up at him. Paws shifted and the tail wagged a couple of times as the puppy tried to find a way to climb in with him. He held his lollipop out of the way and pointed down at the floor, trying to discourage her.
"No, remember, Dillon said you're not allowed in the car," Ziggy told the puppy. "He specifically said--"
The puppy wagged harder at the sound of his voice, putting her front paws up on the bottom of the frame. "Oh, all right," Ziggy said, putting his lollipop back in his mouth. He leaned over and picked her up, trying to settle her in his lap while she scrambled for balance.
"Hold still," Ziggy mumbled around his lollipop. Dillon would know if she scratched the seat. How, Ziggy had no idea, since the car wasn't exactly pristine, but Dillon's eyes were ridiculous.
Then another hand entered his field of vision and the puppy stretched out her nose eagerly. Ziggy looked up in surprise as Dr. K gave the puppy's ear a tentative scratch. It was, as far as he knew, the first time she'd so much as touched the puppy.
She was smiling.
Ziggy sat back, one arm around the squirming bundle of fur and the other hand holding his lollipop while he told the puppy she was a good dog. She seemed as interested in Dr. K's colorless candy as she was in the fingers scritching under her chin, but she was easily thwarted.
"Your compassion and creative circumvention of other people's rules and assumptions," Dr. K said, apparently speaking to the puppy, "make you a valuable addition to this team. And I think--although I don't have a lot of experience in this area--they are particularly desirable traits in a friend, as well. Ziggy."
Ziggy stared at her, open-mouthed.
She looked up, and her smile was awkward. "I don't know if it's appropriate to express such sentiments in front of other people. Also, I find myself distinctly nervous about it. Even when you are my only audience."
"Oh, uh, that's... totally understandable," he said quickly. "But--unnecessary! I mean, because... there's nothing to be nervous about! After all, I am pretty awesome. I know how to take a compliment."
She tilted her head. "Is there a particular procedure for it?"
"Um--" He had to think about it. "Well, yeah. First you say thank you--so, thank you--and then, if you like the person, you compliment them back.
"Unless you complimented them first," he added, "and they were the one returning your compliment. Then you can just stop, because otherwise it gets kind of crazy."
"That's very complicated," she muttered. There was a quiet moment, like she was done, and then she glanced at him and back to the puppy quickly. "I wish I could remember."
That she had meant to say it was obvious. That she'd thought about it first was equally obvious. "Yeah," he said carefully. "Sorry about... you know, everything that happened to you."
"You know," she said flatly. "Dillon showed me the research you did."
"Well..." Ziggy shrugged, slightly more apologetic now than he'd been at the time. "He asked."
"You have remarkable sources," she told the puppy.
He frowned a little. "It kills me that they missed the kidnapping thing. How long ago was that? I mean, if you don't mind me asking?"
She shook her head. "I can't--" She broke off, and he realized belatedly that she had been shaking her head out of protest, not carelessness. "I mean..." She sounded upset, twisted up inside, and he wished he hadn't said anything.
"It doesn't matter," she said at last. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Forget I said anything," he promised. "Terrible question, my bad. Hey, look at this cute puppy. What are we going to call her? I was thinking we should name her for some kind of candy."
"December 2006," she blurted out. "That's what they tell me."
"Yeah?" Ziggy was careful not to change his tone of voice at all. "When you were at the lab?"
"I was always at a lab." She sounded disgusted, like she hated what she knew and what she didn't the same. "I guess. I don't know; I remember being locked in a concrete compound most of my life, so what do I know. They say I was only there two months before I broke out, but the rehab didn't work and by then it was too late anyway."
"But... you did get out," he said, almost a question when she stopped talking. Maybe she didn't want to say anything else, but he had to, to make sure she knew it was okay. "And you got your friends out."
"They're not even human anymore." She was looking at the puppy, so she didn't see him blink. She knew. Dillon had told him not to tell her, but she already knew? "It doesn't matter. They were in a labor camp because of me; they should hate me."
"They don't," Ziggy said, but she still wouldn't look at him. "I mean, it's obvious they don't. They love you."
She didn't answer, just shook her head again, and he thought she was crying. He waited a minute, maybe two--okay, three or four--and when it was clear she wasn't going to say anything else, but she hadn't left either, he put his hand on the puppy's head and ruffled her ears.
"Okay," he said. "So, what do you think? Caramel? Butterscotch?"
She made a little sound, choked by otherwise silent tears... almost a laugh. "Those are stupid names," she muttered. "We're not going to eat it."
"But she's very sweet," Ziggy countered. "Honey? We could call her Honey. Or Tapioca."
"I don't care what you call it," she informed him. She shifted, leaning sideways against the seat, and added, "It's just a puppy; why does it need a name?" before she stuck her lollipop back in her mouth and frowned half-heartedly at the little creature.
"She's a very cute puppy," he corrected. "And everyone deserves to be known. Look at this fluffy adorable thing and tell me she shouldn't have a home and a family and a little bed with her name on it. She's cute, right? C'mon, admit she's cute."
She glared at him, and if it was less effective when her eyes were red and her cheeks were still damp, he didn't tell her. "I'm going to call her Cutie if you don't," he warned her instead.
She rolled her eyes, pulling her lollipop out of her mouth momentarily, and said with obvious reluctance, "I suppose, in a certain light, she could be considered... not ugly."
"Yes!" He didn't bother to keep it from sounding like a cheer. "Excellent! She is very not ugly. We can work with that."
The look he received for this was, if not happier, at least less sad.
"And high up above or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
But if you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth"
~Coldplay
"Fix You"
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There's my line for laugh out loudness. Fantabulous story, as always. Totally makes my day.
You know, it's funny, but I'm critiquing someone's story and I keep noticing all these little things and I'm all analytical, so I stopped to read yours, and I couldn't see a single thing that I would change.
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The puppy is cute! I want Dillon to come back and find them in his car!
::hugs::
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"She's a very cute puppy," he corrected. "And everyone deserves to be known. Look at this fluffy adorable thing and tell me she shouldn't have a home and a family and a little bed with her name on it. She's cute, right? C'mon, admit she's cute."
She glared at him, and if it was less effective when her eyes were red and her cheeks were still damp, he didn't tell her. "I'm going to call her Cutie if you don't," he warned her instead.
She rolled her eyes, pulling her lollipop out of her mouth momentarily, and said with obvious reluctance, "I suppose, in a certain light, she could be considered... not ugly."
"Yes!" He didn't bother to keep it from sounding like a cheer. "Excellent! She is very not ugly. We can work with that."
The look he received for this was, if not happier, at least less sad.
My whole favorite part! ♥
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