Work Text:
5:37 a.m.
“Aaaarrrrgggghhhh. Get off of me. Raaaaaaaalph…”
“Hmmm?”
“Make her stop, please.”
“Ah, Skipper. You’re early. Alright, fine, you can have your morning meal in a bit. No need to meow like you’re dying from hunger. Let's get you into the kitchen.”
7:00 a.m.
“Spud, it’s time to get up.”
“Nnnnnnnnn”
“What was that Spud?”
“What time is it?”
“Seven hours and 1 minute.”
“No.”
“Spuddy, we have to leave at eight.”
“Fuck off.”
“Laurie.”
“Sorry.”
“Spud. Hello?”
“Hullo. Hmmm. The bed is so warm. Why is the air so cold? It's making my face cold.”
“Come on, don’t hide under the blanket, sit up.”
“Did I ever tell you how much I like it when you use your officer’s voice in the bedroom?”
“Thank you Spud. I’m afraid you’ll have to hold that thought until much, much later. I’ve made us tea. It’ll warm you up. And then we’ll have breakfast in the kitchen. Butter and toast.”
“Mmm. Tempting. All extremely tempting. But the bed is more comfortable. I want to stay in bed. I’m afraid I don’t have your talent for self-discipline and delayed gratification, Lieutenant-Commander Lanyon.”
“Pouting at me is not going to change the fact that the sun is rising, time is ticking by, and it takes four hours to reach your mother’s house even in light traffic. Breakfast, Spud. Then we dress, drop off Skippy at Alec and Sandy's, and drive down to the village. She’s expecting us by lunchtime, and I’d rather not get a speeding ticket.”
“I knowwwwww. Come back to bed. And then I’ll get up. I promise.”
“We won’t have time for breakfast.”
“You finished packing for us last night. And we can eat in the car. Now come in. Your hands are cold. There, much better.”
“Alright, now can we get going, Spud? The traffic — hey! Not now! Laurie, we don’t, ah, have time for this.”
“You want me to stop? And finish this much, much later?”
“I–”
“Or are you going to pull us over to some secluded backroad in the middle of the drive like last time?”
“That only happened because you were — the entire — time”
“Mmmmm.”
“Don’t give me that look. I did nothing to encourage it.”
“Yes, Lanyon.”
“Hmph.”
“Do you want me to stop, Lanyon?”
“No. No, Odell. Keep going.”
1:40 p.m.
“I’m terribly sorry for our tardiness, Mrs. Straike. My cat had seemed unwell this morning, and Laurie was so kind as to help me find a vet and get her sorted out.”
“Oh, but of course, Ralph, darling, don't worry about it. There’s still a lot of food left over. I’ll have it reheated. You boys must be quite hungry, having driven all the way down here.”
“Thank you, Mother. Food would be much appreciated. Ralph and I hadn’t had time to eat breakfast, since we were, erm, preoccupied…with the cat, I mean.”
“Is the poor thing going to be alright?”
“Oh yes, Mrs. Straike. It's a very demanding cat, but I think I’ll manage.”