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Title: Doggone Kitties
Fandom: White Pine original fiction
Pairing: Travis Murphy/Ethan McDowell
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 680
Summary: Travis is being a wordy weirdo again.
Author’s Notes: I’m a weirdo. I like words. The way they look, the way they sound, the way they fit together. And because of this odd quirk of my personality, I love taking the word of the day challenges at
1_million_words and turning them into dictionary-like bits of fic where one character explains what a word means to another character. But it’s all couched within one of my little fandoms. In this case, my White Pine original world because, who better to explain something than a writer like Travis Murphy?
Okay, okay, so he’s an obnoxious little shit, but that’s why Ethan loves him so much. This is also a bit of a look into my relationship with my husband because we’ve had more than a few conversations like this over the years. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve said something only to have him reply back with, “What? What does that even mean?”
Also, we have a five year old, eighteen pound Maine Coon who still thinks he’s a two pound kitten.
So, in lieu of a journal entry today, you get a bit of blather and a bit of Murphy being well, Murphy.
--
Doggery (noun)
doggery [daw-guh-ree, dog-uh-]
noun, plural doggeries.
1. doglike behavior or conduct, especially when surly.
2. dogs collectively.
3. rabble; mob.
4. Older Slang. a place where liquor is sold; saloon.
Origin: 1605-15; dog + -ery
--
“It’s really very odd,” Travis said, leaving the living room and entering the kitchen.
“What is,” Ethan asked, looking up from the White Pine Times he had spread out on the table. Not that it really took much to read through the local paper, but it helped him acquaint himself with the denizens of the place where he was currently living. As an added benefit, it gave him a little insight to the people as well, always a good thing for a police officer to have, even in a hamlet like White Pine.
“The cats,” Murphy said, pulling out a chair next to his husband and sitting down. “They’re engaging in a bit of doggery and it’s freaking me out.”
Ethan blinked. “They’re engaging in what, exactly?”
“Doggery,” Travis said, snitching a bite of Ethan’s coffee cake. “The cats, they are acting like puppies.”
“How so?”
Travis shrugged and ate another bite of Ethan’s breakfast. “Chasing their tails, getting into the trash can in my office, I swear I heard Brennan bark.”
“Okay, now you’re being ridiculous,” Ethan laughed. “The rest though? I believe it. They’re Maine Coons, Trav, and they’re mischievous animals.” He knew, he’d done research on them after Travis had brought them home. Not only did they get as big as a small dog, but they never lost that kitten-like curiosity. He dreaded the day when Brennan and Ryan were fully grown, eighteen-plus pound cats and still acted like kittens. What had Travis been thinking in bringing two home?
“Hmmm, maybe so,” Travis hedged. He snuck another bite of Ethan’s coffee cake and chewed thoughtfully. “You know that Ryan will beg if I have chicken? Brennan is more composes though, she’ll sit and wait for me to bring it to her.”
“Begging’s beneath her,” Ethan quipped.
“I guess so,” Travis agreed. “But I swear, they’re still part dog, both of them.”
They ate like two small dogs might, Ethan thought. “Are you about done eating my breakfast? I wasn’t quite through with it.”
“What?” Travis looked down and saw the fork in his hand. “Um, oops? Sorry, baby. I only meant to take one bite. You know how much I love this stuff.”
He did, which is why he’d picked it up at the bakery on his way home this morning. Ethan had joked about buying two at the time and was now kicking himself for not having done so. “Go get yourself another piece if you’re still hungry. I’d like to finish this one myself, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t,” Travis snarked, pushing back from the table and wandering into the kitchen. He returned a few minutes later with a healthy portion of freshly baked coffee cake on a plate. “You know, I much prefer the other definition of ‘doggery’.” He shoved a forkful of cake into his mouth.
“I know I’m going to regret asking, but what other definition?” He turned his moss green eyes on Travis, waiting.
“Well, it means a lot of things,” Travis said, sitting back in the chair he’d occupied earlier. “Doglike behavior, a group of dogs, or even just a mob of people. But my favorite definition? It’s a saloon or other place that sells alcohol.”
Ethan took a bite of his cake and savored the mix of cinnamon and brown sugar. It was one of his favorite combinations, flavor-wise. Second only to the taste of Irish whisky off his husband’s mouth. “You are so Irish sometimes, Murphy.”
Travis cackled, shoving another bite of coffee cake into his mouth. “I make my father so proud some days.”
Every day was closer to the truth, but that was neither here nor there. “Yeah, it’s safe to say that apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Ethan joked. “Not that I’d trade you and your obscure knowledge of the English language for anyone, ever.”
“Oh, Ethan,” Travis sighed, kissing his husband on the cheek. “My winsome partner for life, what am I ever going to do with you?”
“Buy me a thesaurus?”
“That,” Travis said, standing and stretching, “I can do.”
Fandom: White Pine original fiction
Pairing: Travis Murphy/Ethan McDowell
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 680
Summary: Travis is being a wordy weirdo again.
Author’s Notes: I’m a weirdo. I like words. The way they look, the way they sound, the way they fit together. And because of this odd quirk of my personality, I love taking the word of the day challenges at
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Okay, okay, so he’s an obnoxious little shit, but that’s why Ethan loves him so much. This is also a bit of a look into my relationship with my husband because we’ve had more than a few conversations like this over the years. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve said something only to have him reply back with, “What? What does that even mean?”
Also, we have a five year old, eighteen pound Maine Coon who still thinks he’s a two pound kitten.
So, in lieu of a journal entry today, you get a bit of blather and a bit of Murphy being well, Murphy.
--
Doggery (noun)
doggery [daw-guh-ree, dog-uh-]
noun, plural doggeries.
1. doglike behavior or conduct, especially when surly.
2. dogs collectively.
3. rabble; mob.
4. Older Slang. a place where liquor is sold; saloon.
Origin: 1605-15; dog + -ery
--
“It’s really very odd,” Travis said, leaving the living room and entering the kitchen.
“What is,” Ethan asked, looking up from the White Pine Times he had spread out on the table. Not that it really took much to read through the local paper, but it helped him acquaint himself with the denizens of the place where he was currently living. As an added benefit, it gave him a little insight to the people as well, always a good thing for a police officer to have, even in a hamlet like White Pine.
“The cats,” Murphy said, pulling out a chair next to his husband and sitting down. “They’re engaging in a bit of doggery and it’s freaking me out.”
Ethan blinked. “They’re engaging in what, exactly?”
“Doggery,” Travis said, snitching a bite of Ethan’s coffee cake. “The cats, they are acting like puppies.”
“How so?”
Travis shrugged and ate another bite of Ethan’s breakfast. “Chasing their tails, getting into the trash can in my office, I swear I heard Brennan bark.”
“Okay, now you’re being ridiculous,” Ethan laughed. “The rest though? I believe it. They’re Maine Coons, Trav, and they’re mischievous animals.” He knew, he’d done research on them after Travis had brought them home. Not only did they get as big as a small dog, but they never lost that kitten-like curiosity. He dreaded the day when Brennan and Ryan were fully grown, eighteen-plus pound cats and still acted like kittens. What had Travis been thinking in bringing two home?
“Hmmm, maybe so,” Travis hedged. He snuck another bite of Ethan’s coffee cake and chewed thoughtfully. “You know that Ryan will beg if I have chicken? Brennan is more composes though, she’ll sit and wait for me to bring it to her.”
“Begging’s beneath her,” Ethan quipped.
“I guess so,” Travis agreed. “But I swear, they’re still part dog, both of them.”
They ate like two small dogs might, Ethan thought. “Are you about done eating my breakfast? I wasn’t quite through with it.”
“What?” Travis looked down and saw the fork in his hand. “Um, oops? Sorry, baby. I only meant to take one bite. You know how much I love this stuff.”
He did, which is why he’d picked it up at the bakery on his way home this morning. Ethan had joked about buying two at the time and was now kicking himself for not having done so. “Go get yourself another piece if you’re still hungry. I’d like to finish this one myself, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t,” Travis snarked, pushing back from the table and wandering into the kitchen. He returned a few minutes later with a healthy portion of freshly baked coffee cake on a plate. “You know, I much prefer the other definition of ‘doggery’.” He shoved a forkful of cake into his mouth.
“I know I’m going to regret asking, but what other definition?” He turned his moss green eyes on Travis, waiting.
“Well, it means a lot of things,” Travis said, sitting back in the chair he’d occupied earlier. “Doglike behavior, a group of dogs, or even just a mob of people. But my favorite definition? It’s a saloon or other place that sells alcohol.”
Ethan took a bite of his cake and savored the mix of cinnamon and brown sugar. It was one of his favorite combinations, flavor-wise. Second only to the taste of Irish whisky off his husband’s mouth. “You are so Irish sometimes, Murphy.”
Travis cackled, shoving another bite of coffee cake into his mouth. “I make my father so proud some days.”
Every day was closer to the truth, but that was neither here nor there. “Yeah, it’s safe to say that apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Ethan joked. “Not that I’d trade you and your obscure knowledge of the English language for anyone, ever.”
“Oh, Ethan,” Travis sighed, kissing his husband on the cheek. “My winsome partner for life, what am I ever going to do with you?”
“Buy me a thesaurus?”
“That,” Travis said, standing and stretching, “I can do.”
no subject
Date: 2015-12-17 12:54 am (UTC)Our Maine Coon has days when she shows the 50 pd dog who is in charge. :)
Cute little fic ...
no subject
Date: 2015-12-17 05:59 pm (UTC)Hahaha... Buddy shows everyone who's boss, especially when he's on top of the bookcase knocking things off onto your head. :)
Thanks!
no subject
Date: 2015-12-17 10:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-12-17 03:52 pm (UTC)