Clueless Kittens (White Pine Original Fic)
Jan. 4th, 2015 02:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
asphaltcowgrrlTitle: Clueless Kittens
Fandom: White Pine Original Fic
Pairing: Travis Murphy/Ethan McDowell
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 752
Summary: Ethan stumbles across one of Travis’ more odd methods of breaking a writer’s block.
Author’s Note: Wrote this for a weekend challenge with the prompt of : lead pipe and the ballroom. I think I kind of lost the whole point of this fic about four paragraphs in, but well, here it is all the same.
Strewn across the kitchen table were variously colored pawns, miniature weapons, a handful of cards and a Clue game board. The newest addition to the Murphy household was chasing the missing die across the kitchen floor, bouncing it off cabinets and meowing loudly.
“Damnit, Brennan,” Ethan hollered as the cat darted out from the kitchen and bolted between his legs. “Go chase your boyfriend before I change my mind and take you back to the pound.”
“Don’t talk to her like that,” Travis said, stopping to pet the overly large kitten. “She doesn’t know any better, she’s still a baby.” The calico moose purred and rubbed against Travis’ ankle in thanks.
“And somehow, you managed to talk me into two of these little idiots.” He lifted his eyes heavenward, wondering again how he’d gotten suckered so badly. “And speaking of which, where is that other little miscreant?”
“Detective Ryan is currently curled in his bed, snoozing in the afternoon sun like a good boy,” Travis informed him.
“Well, that makes one of you then,” Ethan laughed. “And speaking of which, is there a reason for this mess you left on the table?”
Travis looked at the disassembled board game he’d scattered across every inch of flat space. “I’m stuck and this usually helps me.”
“Playing Clue?” Ethan knew that, at this point in their relationship, the oddities of Travis’ writing process shouldn’t surprise him, but sometimes, he still found himself caught off guard.
“Yeah, well, it helps me work out scenarios and other odd bits and pieces.” A soft, high-pitched mewing drew Travis’ attention back to his feet. Picking Brennan up, he looked back at Ethan. “I know it sounds weird, but it… helps.”
“Travis, I stopped trying to figure out your creative process and decided to leave that to you and LaWanda.” He scratched Brennan under her chin and smiled when she started to purr. “But I have to admit, this looks like absolute chaos to me. No clear cut case of Colonel Mustard in the library with the candlestick.”
“That’s because that’s not what happened,” Travis said with a frustrated sigh. “It was in the ballroom with the lead pipe, obviously.”
“It’s going to be former Detective Ethan McDowell in the kitchen with a kitten if you keep up with the smart mouth mister.”
“A kitten’s not much of a weapon, silly boy.” Travis chuckled and looked back at the table. “But you might be right, I don’t remember leaving it this messy. Did you get into my game, missy?”
Brennan turned her big green eyes on Travis and yawned. “I’m guessing that’s a yes, Murph.”
“You said you were my friend,” he told the cat before placing her back on the ground. After a brief stretch, she scampered off into the kitchen to continue her assault on the game’s soon-to-be-lost die.
“You want a little help cleaning this up,” Ethan asked, stacking a handful of cards.
“Depends,” Travis said, knocking the purple pawn back and forth between his hands.
“On?”
“You up for a game first?”
His grin was too adorable to resist. “What are the stakes?”
This, of course, was what always made Travis’ asinine games so much fun. Over the course of their relationship, they’ve ranged from dish duty for a week to near sexual slavery. Granted, neither ever grumbled when the latter was at risk, but who wanted to do the dishes for a whole seven days?
“Kitten duty for the next three days,” Travis stated.
“But they’re your cats. You are the one who asked for the little brats,” Ethan protested.
“You didn’t let me finish,” Travis grinned. “I also was going to say part of the prize was three nights of winner’s choice.”
The little brow waggle he gave at the end further drove his point home. “You’re on. Set up the board and I’ll wrestle the die away from the cat.”
“You do that. Loser.”
Ethan stopped and looked over his shoulder. “It’s still not too late for it to be Detective McDowell in the kitchen with whatever he can get his hands on, you know. I’d watch it if I were you.”
“I’ve got something for you to get your hands on, baby,” he teased. “Just wait until you lose this game.”
Ethan knelt on the floor and distracted Brennan while he stole the die from beneath her paw. Giving her a little scratch under the chin, he looked towards the kitchen table. “We’ll see who loses, Mister Confidence. Game on, baby.”
Fandom: White Pine Original Fic
Pairing: Travis Murphy/Ethan McDowell
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 752
Summary: Ethan stumbles across one of Travis’ more odd methods of breaking a writer’s block.
Author’s Note: Wrote this for a weekend challenge with the prompt of : lead pipe and the ballroom. I think I kind of lost the whole point of this fic about four paragraphs in, but well, here it is all the same.
Strewn across the kitchen table were variously colored pawns, miniature weapons, a handful of cards and a Clue game board. The newest addition to the Murphy household was chasing the missing die across the kitchen floor, bouncing it off cabinets and meowing loudly.
“Damnit, Brennan,” Ethan hollered as the cat darted out from the kitchen and bolted between his legs. “Go chase your boyfriend before I change my mind and take you back to the pound.”
“Don’t talk to her like that,” Travis said, stopping to pet the overly large kitten. “She doesn’t know any better, she’s still a baby.” The calico moose purred and rubbed against Travis’ ankle in thanks.
“And somehow, you managed to talk me into two of these little idiots.” He lifted his eyes heavenward, wondering again how he’d gotten suckered so badly. “And speaking of which, where is that other little miscreant?”
“Detective Ryan is currently curled in his bed, snoozing in the afternoon sun like a good boy,” Travis informed him.
“Well, that makes one of you then,” Ethan laughed. “And speaking of which, is there a reason for this mess you left on the table?”
Travis looked at the disassembled board game he’d scattered across every inch of flat space. “I’m stuck and this usually helps me.”
“Playing Clue?” Ethan knew that, at this point in their relationship, the oddities of Travis’ writing process shouldn’t surprise him, but sometimes, he still found himself caught off guard.
“Yeah, well, it helps me work out scenarios and other odd bits and pieces.” A soft, high-pitched mewing drew Travis’ attention back to his feet. Picking Brennan up, he looked back at Ethan. “I know it sounds weird, but it… helps.”
“Travis, I stopped trying to figure out your creative process and decided to leave that to you and LaWanda.” He scratched Brennan under her chin and smiled when she started to purr. “But I have to admit, this looks like absolute chaos to me. No clear cut case of Colonel Mustard in the library with the candlestick.”
“That’s because that’s not what happened,” Travis said with a frustrated sigh. “It was in the ballroom with the lead pipe, obviously.”
“It’s going to be former Detective Ethan McDowell in the kitchen with a kitten if you keep up with the smart mouth mister.”
“A kitten’s not much of a weapon, silly boy.” Travis chuckled and looked back at the table. “But you might be right, I don’t remember leaving it this messy. Did you get into my game, missy?”
Brennan turned her big green eyes on Travis and yawned. “I’m guessing that’s a yes, Murph.”
“You said you were my friend,” he told the cat before placing her back on the ground. After a brief stretch, she scampered off into the kitchen to continue her assault on the game’s soon-to-be-lost die.
“You want a little help cleaning this up,” Ethan asked, stacking a handful of cards.
“Depends,” Travis said, knocking the purple pawn back and forth between his hands.
“On?”
“You up for a game first?”
His grin was too adorable to resist. “What are the stakes?”
This, of course, was what always made Travis’ asinine games so much fun. Over the course of their relationship, they’ve ranged from dish duty for a week to near sexual slavery. Granted, neither ever grumbled when the latter was at risk, but who wanted to do the dishes for a whole seven days?
“Kitten duty for the next three days,” Travis stated.
“But they’re your cats. You are the one who asked for the little brats,” Ethan protested.
“You didn’t let me finish,” Travis grinned. “I also was going to say part of the prize was three nights of winner’s choice.”
The little brow waggle he gave at the end further drove his point home. “You’re on. Set up the board and I’ll wrestle the die away from the cat.”
“You do that. Loser.”
Ethan stopped and looked over his shoulder. “It’s still not too late for it to be Detective McDowell in the kitchen with whatever he can get his hands on, you know. I’d watch it if I were you.”
“I’ve got something for you to get your hands on, baby,” he teased. “Just wait until you lose this game.”
Ethan knelt on the floor and distracted Brennan while he stole the die from beneath her paw. Giving her a little scratch under the chin, he looked towards the kitchen table. “We’ll see who loses, Mister Confidence. Game on, baby.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2015-01-21 11:50 pm (UTC)Mm. Sexual slavery for three days. You could write that, you know ... ;) Okay, I'll try to behave.
The same thing happened to us. Two kittens, because one would get 'lonely'.
Thanks for a little fix this evening. :)
no subject
Date: 2015-01-22 07:00 pm (UTC)ROFL! Yeah, I sure could. And I have no doubt they'd thank me in the end, too.
See, in our case, we wound up with two because my husband is a sucker and the girls texted him saying Petco had a year-old Maine Coon up for adoption...
You are so welcome!