asphaltcowgrrl (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
asphaltcowgrrl) wrote2014-12-11 02:56 pm
asphaltcowgrrl) wrote2014-12-11 02:56 pm
Entry tags:
Advent Day 11 (White Pine Original Fic)
Title: Advent Day 11
Fandom: White Pine Original Fic
Pairing: Travis Murphy/Ethan McDowell
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,633
Summary: A Christmas/New Year’s fic to help bump up the word count for 1_million_words. Wherein Travis and Ethan muddle their way through December and try to stay on Santa’s Nice List.
Author’s Note: Okay, so this has officially lost its point. But still… it’s fun, right? I have a hard time being serious with these two.
Day 11
Grocery shopping wasn’t something he was very fond of. Nor was he particularly well-versed in it, either. Which would explain why he was standing in the produce section looking for rice. “Short grain, not long. Not basmati either. Pearl.” He shook his head and wondered how people who actually cooked real food managed it.
“Can I help you?” The voice was attached to a young girl – no, woman – likely in her very early twenties. A pair of bovine wide eyes stared back at him, waiting.
Ethan blinked, trying to get the image of Johan’s pet cow out of his mind. He – the cow, not Travis’ college pal – had the same soft, brown eyes as this young thing watching him so intently. “Uh, I was looking for some rice?”
The girl’s smile brightened. “Come, follow me, I’ll show you.”
Wishing Travis had not been on such a time crunch with his novel, Ethan followed her down a few aisles and stopped where she pointed. He took a deep breath and looked over the many, many variations on the shelves. The stockgirl must’ve seen his dismay because she reached for the scrap of paper he held in one hand.
“Hmmm,” she murmured, looking over the rows of product. “Short grain. Ah, here, this will get you where you need to go.”
He took the overly large bag of rice from her and forced a smile. “Thanks.”
“Anything else while I’m here?” Her eyelashes fluttered almost imperceptibly, but something kicked on inside Ethan’s detective-trained brain.
“No,” he said, unsure of whether he was reading too much into her actions or not. “I think I can find the rest.” And he was relatively certain that was true. Things like a whole chicken, tomato sauce and various dried herbs they collected regularly. But rice? He left that tricky subject to Travis’ mother.
A tiny sigh, followed by a subtle slump of her shoulders followed. “Okay,” she said, the flutter of lashes more pronounced this time. “My name’s Tara if you decide you need any more help finding… things.”
He blinked, confused as she strode off to help another stockgirl find something for a customer. To say he was out of practice with women would be laughable, he’d never really been in practice with one. But… nah. Shrugging his shoulders, he wandered off to find the remaining items he’d been tasked to find and bring home.
Why did Travis have to invite his sister to dinner again? Thankfully Aracely had offered to help them prep the meal, with the caveat that they did the shopping. Thus, how he’d wound up wandering the local food mart. Ethan did have to admit that White Pine’s grocery was about a third of the size of the one he’d shopped in the city, but smaller didn’t necessarily mean he liked it any better.
“Murphy, you really need to learn when – and how – to keep your damn mouth shut,” he mumbled into a package of dinner rolls.
“I’m sorry?”
He turned and found Tara smiling at him. Those large, coffee-colored eyes beaming some sort of subliminal message his way. One he, obviously, wasn’t receiving correctly. “Oh, uh, nothing,” he stuttered. “Just muttering to myself.”
Tilting her head, she flashed him a cute little grin, replete with dimples and cherry red lipstick. To say he was beginning to get a little weirded out was an understatement. “Well,” she drawled, “just don’t make a habit of talking to yourself in the grocery store. People might begin to talk.”
“Too bad they already do,” he grumbled. The ringing of his cell phone saved him from having to explain that little remark. “Excuse me, I need to take this.” Travis was calling and although he’d understand if he didn’t answer, Ethan needed an escape route. Quickly. “Hello?”
“Hey baby, you about done? I’ve reached a stopping point and thought maybe you could grab some dinner on the way home?”
God love Travis, even if he was the reason he was in this situation to begin with.
“Sure, honey. What do you want me to bring home?” He gave Tara a dismissive grin before focusing back on his cart of groceries.
Silence filled the line for about four seconds before laughter replaced it. “Oh, something’s going on, isn’t it?” Travis chuckled again, hearty and full. “You never call me things like that in public, admit it.”
“Oh, it’s true. It’s all true,” he conceded. “The question still remains: what do you want me to bring home for you?”
“Is he cute? Please tell me he’s cute,” Travis continued. “And if he is, why are you trying to chase him off?”
“Because she’s not you,” he replied, putting subtle emphasis on the she’s.
Travis’ mirth attacked his hear again. “Why do you always attract women?”
“I don’t know, Travis. But please, tell me what you want so I can check out and get home.” He looked up from his cart and found Tara frowning at him. She must’ve finally put it together and figured out that ‘honey’ and ‘Travis’ were the same. He could only hope.
“Okay, okay,” he giggled. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll order our usual from the diner and you can simply stop by and pick it up. That work?”
“That’s perfect, thank you.” He angled his cart towards the checkout, still feeling Tara’s eyes on his back.
“It’s the least I can do, seeing as I abandoned you to shopping alone.”
“And I’ll never let you forget this,” he said, placing items on the conveyor belt.
“I know you won’t,” he said. “I’m counting on you holding it against me for at least the next several nights.”
“You are such a pervert sometimes,” he admonished. “But it can be fun, too. Call the diner and I’ll be home soon.”
“You got it, baby.” Travis made some kissy noises into the phone and hung up.
Ethan grabbed the last few items and tossed them onto the belt. Digging his wallet out of his pocket, he pushed the cart to the end so the bagboy could start loading his groceries. His detective instincts tickled at the back of his mind, forcing him to look over his shoulder. “Tara.”
“You have a boyfriend?” She sounded disgusted, but he didn’t much care.
“Yeah, I do.” He smiled at the older woman ringing up his groceries.
“Why didn’t you say so then? It would have been the right thing to do.” She crossed her arms angrily over her chest.
“What?” He was a bit taken aback by that question. “Why on earth would I tell you something like that?”
“I thought I made it obvious I was interested in you,” she huffed.
Ethan gave a ‘help me’ look to the cashier. “I hate to tell you this, sweetheart, but I’ve never been very in tune with the ancient art of flirting. Ask anyone who knows me. Or, better yet, call my fiancé. He’ll be happy to concur with that, since I completely missed it every time he tried it on me.”
“Tara,” the cashier interrupted, earning her a grateful look. “There are a total of two gay men in all of White Pine. Travis Murphy…”
“Hmph,” Tara interjected, apparently unhappy that Travis was immune to her seemingly varied charms.
The cashier shared an eye roll with Ethan before continuing. “And this handsome young thing here.”
“I don’t care, he could have said something,” she insisted.
“It’s not his job to put you in your place. It’s your job to keep it in your pants while you’re working,” she reminded her.
“What. Ever.” Tara flipped her hair and stalked off.
“I am so sorry she did that to you,” she said to him.
He nodded, noting her nametag said ‘Kate’. “Thanks, Kate. But I wasn’t lying when I said that I tend to be oblivious when it comes to flirting. Murphy can be rather blatant,” he grinned at her acknowledging snort, “and I still managed to miss his hints.”
“Yes, well, either way, she knows better.” Kate fiddled with the register and glanced at Ethan. “Forty-three twenty-nine.”
Retrieving the money from his wallet he handed it over. “I get how you knew who Travis was – I’m not sure there’s anyone in this town who doesn’t – but how did you know who I was?”
She gave him a knowing smile, motherly in an odd sort of way. “You have to live under a rock not to know who any of the Murphys are, especially with Travis’ history.” Kate shook her head, amused. “But you? You work with the sheriff and he’s my brother. He told me all about you, giving me a special update when he realized you and ‘that crazy Murphy boy’ were an item.”
And it all began to make sense. “I wouldn’t have ever guessed,” he said honestly. “But thank you. Both for my food and for the help.”
“Anytime,” she called after him.
Travis nearly pounced on him as he walked through the door. “I’m starving here, what took you so long?”
Ethan glared at him, shoving a bag of food into his open hands. “You’re going to love this,” he said by way of an introduction.
“Oooh, a story! I love a good story,” Murphy shouted, carrying the food into the kitchen. “Does it involve aliens?”
“No, not quite. Just a barely twenty-year-old girl with the world’s worst gaydar.”
“Tell me,” Travis insisted, putting the food away.
As he unpacked their dinner, he noticed two pieces of pie that hadn’t been on the ticket when he paid. One Dutch apple, Travis’ favorite, and one banana cream. He smiled. That was his favorite. Maybe he was beginning to fit in here after all? “Well, it started when I couldn’t find the rice…”
Murphy’s amusement filled the room.
Fandom: White Pine Original Fic
Pairing: Travis Murphy/Ethan McDowell
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,633
Summary: A Christmas/New Year’s fic to help bump up the word count for 1_million_words. Wherein Travis and Ethan muddle their way through December and try to stay on Santa’s Nice List.
Author’s Note: Okay, so this has officially lost its point. But still… it’s fun, right? I have a hard time being serious with these two.
Day 11
Grocery shopping wasn’t something he was very fond of. Nor was he particularly well-versed in it, either. Which would explain why he was standing in the produce section looking for rice. “Short grain, not long. Not basmati either. Pearl.” He shook his head and wondered how people who actually cooked real food managed it.
“Can I help you?” The voice was attached to a young girl – no, woman – likely in her very early twenties. A pair of bovine wide eyes stared back at him, waiting.
Ethan blinked, trying to get the image of Johan’s pet cow out of his mind. He – the cow, not Travis’ college pal – had the same soft, brown eyes as this young thing watching him so intently. “Uh, I was looking for some rice?”
The girl’s smile brightened. “Come, follow me, I’ll show you.”
Wishing Travis had not been on such a time crunch with his novel, Ethan followed her down a few aisles and stopped where she pointed. He took a deep breath and looked over the many, many variations on the shelves. The stockgirl must’ve seen his dismay because she reached for the scrap of paper he held in one hand.
“Hmmm,” she murmured, looking over the rows of product. “Short grain. Ah, here, this will get you where you need to go.”
He took the overly large bag of rice from her and forced a smile. “Thanks.”
“Anything else while I’m here?” Her eyelashes fluttered almost imperceptibly, but something kicked on inside Ethan’s detective-trained brain.
“No,” he said, unsure of whether he was reading too much into her actions or not. “I think I can find the rest.” And he was relatively certain that was true. Things like a whole chicken, tomato sauce and various dried herbs they collected regularly. But rice? He left that tricky subject to Travis’ mother.
A tiny sigh, followed by a subtle slump of her shoulders followed. “Okay,” she said, the flutter of lashes more pronounced this time. “My name’s Tara if you decide you need any more help finding… things.”
He blinked, confused as she strode off to help another stockgirl find something for a customer. To say he was out of practice with women would be laughable, he’d never really been in practice with one. But… nah. Shrugging his shoulders, he wandered off to find the remaining items he’d been tasked to find and bring home.
Why did Travis have to invite his sister to dinner again? Thankfully Aracely had offered to help them prep the meal, with the caveat that they did the shopping. Thus, how he’d wound up wandering the local food mart. Ethan did have to admit that White Pine’s grocery was about a third of the size of the one he’d shopped in the city, but smaller didn’t necessarily mean he liked it any better.
“Murphy, you really need to learn when – and how – to keep your damn mouth shut,” he mumbled into a package of dinner rolls.
“I’m sorry?”
He turned and found Tara smiling at him. Those large, coffee-colored eyes beaming some sort of subliminal message his way. One he, obviously, wasn’t receiving correctly. “Oh, uh, nothing,” he stuttered. “Just muttering to myself.”
Tilting her head, she flashed him a cute little grin, replete with dimples and cherry red lipstick. To say he was beginning to get a little weirded out was an understatement. “Well,” she drawled, “just don’t make a habit of talking to yourself in the grocery store. People might begin to talk.”
“Too bad they already do,” he grumbled. The ringing of his cell phone saved him from having to explain that little remark. “Excuse me, I need to take this.” Travis was calling and although he’d understand if he didn’t answer, Ethan needed an escape route. Quickly. “Hello?”
“Hey baby, you about done? I’ve reached a stopping point and thought maybe you could grab some dinner on the way home?”
God love Travis, even if he was the reason he was in this situation to begin with.
“Sure, honey. What do you want me to bring home?” He gave Tara a dismissive grin before focusing back on his cart of groceries.
Silence filled the line for about four seconds before laughter replaced it. “Oh, something’s going on, isn’t it?” Travis chuckled again, hearty and full. “You never call me things like that in public, admit it.”
“Oh, it’s true. It’s all true,” he conceded. “The question still remains: what do you want me to bring home for you?”
“Is he cute? Please tell me he’s cute,” Travis continued. “And if he is, why are you trying to chase him off?”
“Because she’s not you,” he replied, putting subtle emphasis on the she’s.
Travis’ mirth attacked his hear again. “Why do you always attract women?”
“I don’t know, Travis. But please, tell me what you want so I can check out and get home.” He looked up from his cart and found Tara frowning at him. She must’ve finally put it together and figured out that ‘honey’ and ‘Travis’ were the same. He could only hope.
“Okay, okay,” he giggled. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll order our usual from the diner and you can simply stop by and pick it up. That work?”
“That’s perfect, thank you.” He angled his cart towards the checkout, still feeling Tara’s eyes on his back.
“It’s the least I can do, seeing as I abandoned you to shopping alone.”
“And I’ll never let you forget this,” he said, placing items on the conveyor belt.
“I know you won’t,” he said. “I’m counting on you holding it against me for at least the next several nights.”
“You are such a pervert sometimes,” he admonished. “But it can be fun, too. Call the diner and I’ll be home soon.”
“You got it, baby.” Travis made some kissy noises into the phone and hung up.
Ethan grabbed the last few items and tossed them onto the belt. Digging his wallet out of his pocket, he pushed the cart to the end so the bagboy could start loading his groceries. His detective instincts tickled at the back of his mind, forcing him to look over his shoulder. “Tara.”
“You have a boyfriend?” She sounded disgusted, but he didn’t much care.
“Yeah, I do.” He smiled at the older woman ringing up his groceries.
“Why didn’t you say so then? It would have been the right thing to do.” She crossed her arms angrily over her chest.
“What?” He was a bit taken aback by that question. “Why on earth would I tell you something like that?”
“I thought I made it obvious I was interested in you,” she huffed.
Ethan gave a ‘help me’ look to the cashier. “I hate to tell you this, sweetheart, but I’ve never been very in tune with the ancient art of flirting. Ask anyone who knows me. Or, better yet, call my fiancé. He’ll be happy to concur with that, since I completely missed it every time he tried it on me.”
“Tara,” the cashier interrupted, earning her a grateful look. “There are a total of two gay men in all of White Pine. Travis Murphy…”
“Hmph,” Tara interjected, apparently unhappy that Travis was immune to her seemingly varied charms.
The cashier shared an eye roll with Ethan before continuing. “And this handsome young thing here.”
“I don’t care, he could have said something,” she insisted.
“It’s not his job to put you in your place. It’s your job to keep it in your pants while you’re working,” she reminded her.
“What. Ever.” Tara flipped her hair and stalked off.
“I am so sorry she did that to you,” she said to him.
He nodded, noting her nametag said ‘Kate’. “Thanks, Kate. But I wasn’t lying when I said that I tend to be oblivious when it comes to flirting. Murphy can be rather blatant,” he grinned at her acknowledging snort, “and I still managed to miss his hints.”
“Yes, well, either way, she knows better.” Kate fiddled with the register and glanced at Ethan. “Forty-three twenty-nine.”
Retrieving the money from his wallet he handed it over. “I get how you knew who Travis was – I’m not sure there’s anyone in this town who doesn’t – but how did you know who I was?”
She gave him a knowing smile, motherly in an odd sort of way. “You have to live under a rock not to know who any of the Murphys are, especially with Travis’ history.” Kate shook her head, amused. “But you? You work with the sheriff and he’s my brother. He told me all about you, giving me a special update when he realized you and ‘that crazy Murphy boy’ were an item.”
And it all began to make sense. “I wouldn’t have ever guessed,” he said honestly. “But thank you. Both for my food and for the help.”
“Anytime,” she called after him.
Travis nearly pounced on him as he walked through the door. “I’m starving here, what took you so long?”
Ethan glared at him, shoving a bag of food into his open hands. “You’re going to love this,” he said by way of an introduction.
“Oooh, a story! I love a good story,” Murphy shouted, carrying the food into the kitchen. “Does it involve aliens?”
“No, not quite. Just a barely twenty-year-old girl with the world’s worst gaydar.”
“Tell me,” Travis insisted, putting the food away.
As he unpacked their dinner, he noticed two pieces of pie that hadn’t been on the ticket when he paid. One Dutch apple, Travis’ favorite, and one banana cream. He smiled. That was his favorite. Maybe he was beginning to fit in here after all? “Well, it started when I couldn’t find the rice…”
Murphy’s amusement filled the room.
no subject
Travis! LOL. I would never send my husband out for rice, either. God knows what he would bring home, but it would come in a microwavable pouch, I do know that much. LOL.
Sweet as pie. Thanks.
no subject
I'm lucky in that my husband always has his nose in what I'm making, so he'd know what to get. But still, sometimes he's impossible when it comes to FINDING things. This is why I send Tay with him. Hah.
Yay! *throws Christmas confetti*