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!Joe Flanigan (![[info]](http://www.journalfen.net/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} dr_dolittle) wrote,@ 2008-05-25 16:51:00 |
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Joe Flanigan and David Hewlett. Dinner at Joe's place.
[Back in 2000.]
[Takes place not so long after Joe and David do... stuff. And... things.]
Joe doesn't exactly have a lot of company. Uh, ever. And it shows. He's been racing around the house for the last few hours trying to get things cleaned up, and he's been mocked almost the entire time. Even pointing out that it's not wise to taunt the person who goes out and brings the food home doesn't help. The cats just threatened to eat him.
David is nothing if not punctual. Or, well, perpetually early. It's six-twenty when he rings the doorbell, holding a bottle of wine in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. He's scrubbed up nicely today, and he's nervous as hell.
Damn sweaty palms.
He knows that David's at the door before the doorbell even rings, because there's a sound like elephants galloping (do elephants gallop? Surely there's a better word. Stampede-that's the one) toward the door. "Guys, come on, give him a break!" he hollers, doing a good impersonation of an elephant himself as he comes down the stairs and opens the door, pushing dogs out of the way. "Come on in--just give them a shove if they won't move, they're harmless, I promise," he assures David.
"Oh, look at them. They're so happy to see me." David grins as he steps carefully into the hall. He thrusts the flowers at Joe. "Hi."
"Hi--you brought me flowers?" Joe looks like he's about to melt. "That's just... I'm going to have to lecture everyone in the house not to eat them so I can actually get to look at them for a few days. Angel, Riley, would you both just leave him alone?" Joe sounds mildly exasperated, but also not remotely surprised at the dogs behaviour.
"Angel and Riley?" David says, sounding amused. "Is Buffy around here somewhere?"
Joe points over David's shoulder at a tiny but bossy looking cat who's staring imperiously down at David. "Yup. I was on a bit of a kick there for awhile."
"That's adorable," David says. "So, um, the flowers aren't too much?"
"The flowers are perfect, and I love them," Joe assures him, leaning over and giving David a kiss on the cheek. Feeling strangely... well, not exactly gay, since that's obvious, but a little bit domestic, he clears his throat loudly and steps back, smiling at him. "So, yes, I should find something they can go in. And finish dinner."
"You're cooking for me? For real cooking, not something out of a package?" David teases lightly and follows Joe into the kitchen, Angel and Riley hot on their heels.
He's not very tall is he?
No. Not very tall at all. But he brings Joe presents, I guess that's something.
A little bit round in the middle.
So are you, Angel.
Am not!
"Well... that's really a matter of opinion, whether it counts as real cooking or not," Joe says, aiming a glare at the two dogs over David's shoulder. "There are packages involved, but I'm not just reheating something from the store. Angel, Riley, don't touch the flowers," he warns them, filling a vase and putting it on the counter.
He's got a dog. Smell his pants.
Cat too.
"Guys, guys, my knee isn't that interesting," David protests, laughing and gently urging the two dogs away.
Joe, why would you invite him but not his dog? We're nice. We'd be very friendly and even share.
Chase him around the backyard.
"So what are you making?" David asks as he comes around the counter to peer at the stove.
"They can smell Max and Pixel," Joe explains. "They're probably wondering why I didn't invite them to come and play with them. And... well... you said you grew up in Canada, right?" Joe says, looking a little shy as he tries to hide a covered pot.
"I should have brought them," David says. "I'm sorry I didn't." He peeks over Joe's shoulder, going up on his toes. "Are you making maple syrup?" he teases.
"No," Joe huffs, then lifts the lid off the top. "Kraft Dinner. The Canadian kind. Someone told me that the two are different, so... I got this one. And I should have suggested you bring Max and Pixel. They're always welcome, you know."
"You made me Kraft Dinner." David starts laughing helplessly, then leans up and gives Joe a kiss. "You romantic, you. My God, I haven't had that stuff since I went to visit my sister in Toronto two years ago."
"Well, I just hope I did it right," Joe says, poking at it with a spoon and looking a little nervous. "I had a few boxes shipped here, and it just seemed... it's not too dorky?"
"It's very dorky," David says, but he's smiling and he puts his arms around Joe's neck. "So dorky I think I'm going to kiss you again."
"Mmm... careful, don't want to get distracted," Joe murmurs, leaning in for the promised kiss. "I don't know what kind of shelf life this stuff has if it's ignored."
"I'm keeping a really close eye on it," David says, after another kiss.
"Yeah, I can really tell," Joe laughs, fighting the urge to push David up against the counter. Apparently kitchens were going to be a problem for the two of them in terms of making them get all interested in 'stuff'. "Templeton, leave David's cuffs alone."
David peers down. "You have a ferret."
Ooh, what a clever man. Is he going to point out what colour I am next?
Joe closes his eyes for a moment, resisting the urge to tell the ferret to shut up. "Templeton, meet David. David, that's Templeton. Don't worry, he won't actually go up your pant leg, but he likes chewing on cuffs."
"Hello, Templeton."
Ugh, he has a dog too?
We're standing right here. We can hear you.
Templeton sniffs disdainfully and starts making his way to the cat bed. Tell me if someone worthwhile shows up.
"Well, he's not overly enthusiastic, is he?" David peeks into the pot. "Dinner's just about ready."
"Buffy and Faith aren't going to be thrilled with you being in their bed," Joe warns him. "I think it is, actually. There's other stuff too... bread, and salad. I went kind of basic for dinner and splurged on dessert," he says, grinning.
"Mmm, dessert." David randomly opens a cupboard and finds bowls for the Kraft dinner. "So you've got Buffy, Faith, Angel, and Riley. How come you didn't go with, I don't know, Giles or Oz or something for the ferret?"
"Because he's a cranky, sarcastic, packrat of a ferret, who eats like a pig. Templeton just made sense for him," Joe explains, getting the salad out of the fridge.
"Oh. Well, that makes sense." David grabs plates for the salad. "You're spoiling me here, Joe."
"I made you Kraft dinner and lettuce with tomatoes and carrots. I don't really see how that's spoiling you," he laughs. "Beer, milk, water... Kool-Aid?"
David thinks about this. "Chocolate milk?" he asks, hopefully.
"Will you settle for regular milk and chocolate milk syrup? 'Cause I know I've got some of that," Joe says, reaching up into one of the cupboards and handing it over. "Is that what goes with Kraft Dinner?"
"Well, maybe if you're seven," David replies, grinning madly. "Or if you're feeling all nostalgic. I used to baby-sit my sisters, and I'd make them Kraft dinner with chocolate milk. Kate would put ketchup in hers." He takes the chocolate syrup. "Her Kraft dinner, not her milk."
"You know, I was just about to ask," Joe admits. "Do we need ketchup? I've got some, I think."
"I never liked Ketchup in mine," David says as he squeezes a rather liberal amount of the chocolate syrup into his milk.
"Then we can skip it. You're the native here, I'm treading on your national cuisine," Joe says, taking the syrup from David once he's done and pouring a glass of milk for himself.
"You make it sound almost exotic," David says, dryly. He kisses Joe's cheek, then starts to dish out the salad for both of them.
"Well, compared to what you were gonna get, it kind of is. I make a really mean call to the pizza delivery place."
"I already know that," David says, starting to carry things to the table.
"Also Chinese, Thai, Indian... there's a spaghetti place down the way that's really pretty good...."
"Joe," David says, despairingly. "I'm going to need to teach you how to make spaghetti?"
"No! I can make spaghetti!" Lies, lies, and dirty untruths.
Liar. That comes from both dogs, who are trying to be all discreet curled up under the table.
"Hush!" The admonition comes automatically, and Joe covers it by peering under the table. "Thought I wouldn't know you were under there, huh? No Kraft Dinner for you two--go find your beds."
The dogs retreat to their beds, Angel casting a look back at Joe on the way out of the kitchen.
Templeton lifts his head. Does this mean I get Kraft Dinner?
Joe just rolls his eyes and ignores the ferret. "Sorry. It really is a bit of a zoo around here. You haven't even seen everyone yet."
"Who's missing?" David asks, sitting down. "Two dogs, a cat--no, sorry, two cats--and a ferret. That's quite a bit."
"Another two cats who are mine, and... let me think for a minute. Up in the spare room I've got two cats who I'm rehabilitating who I'm hoping to find a home for, and two dogs in the backyard, who I'm hoping the same for," Joe lists off.
"Four cats?"
"If you're not counting the two in the spare bedroom, yeah. Four."
David smiles. "That's really sweet."
"Sweet is one word I've heard. Also insane, and 'a hissing madhouse'," Joe says wryly.
"I think it's wonderful that you care so much. Not enough people do."
"No, they don't. But," Joe says, pausing for a bite of macaroni, "sometimes I get lucky and people help me out. Adopt some of the others so that I don't end up with an utter houseful. Like you and Pixel."
"Y'know, one of my geeks has been talking about wanting to get a cat. Maybe you could stop by the store to meet him?"
"Really?" Joe perks up. "Yeah, I definitely could. I could bring by the two I've got, see if he clicks with either of them. And if not, people are always offering me kittens when their cats get knocked up."
David winces. "Don't you have the 'please spay or neuter your pets' chat with lots of people?"
"Yeah, but that doesn't help me out with the professional breeders whose husbands open the door because 'that damned cat wouldn't stop yowling," Joe says, rolling his eyes.
"Oh, God. I had a boyfriend in college who just... didn't understand Fable. If a couple can't be on the same page about animals, they just shouldn't. Big no. No, no, no. I learned that lesson so fast I'm sure the guy's head spun when I broke up with him."
"What do you mean he didn't understand her? Didn't understand why she was important to you?" Of course, understanding animals means something a little different when it's Joe, but still.
"Yeah. And he couldn't cope with her talking. She was a very vocal girl when she was hungry or wanted out and he'd just snap at her." David sighs. "I was young and dumb and only twenty-one."
"Hey, we all made some stupid decisions in our twenties. I dated a girl once who was so afraid of one of my dogs that she cried. She said it was going to attack her and knock her down and hurt her. It was a shi-tzu."
David almost chokes on a piece of celery. "Oh my God. Seriously?"
"Seriously. It was a very friendly shi-tzu too! Laid back, quiet, never jumped, barely even barked. She walked in the door and burst into tears," Joe rolls his eyes. "I've... actually, I've had a lot of people break up with me because of the animals. Because of my job."
David reaches across the table and covers Joe's hand with his. "I'm sorry. I had a few boyfriends who didn't get my job, either. There's a select few customers who are allowed to call me at home and that hasn't sat well with a few guys."
"Well, in your business, I'd guess unexpected calls at unexpected times sometimes happen, huh? For me too, obviously." Joe turns his hand over and gives David's a squeeze. "If someone's show cat is in labour and having trouble and needs a C-section, I'm coming in. Emergencies, traumas... I work with a few other people, obviously, but we all take our turn being on call."
"Yeah, that sounds very slightly familiar. Obviously somebody's laptop isn't quite the same as somebody's cocker spaniel, but..." David frowns a little and looks down. "I really admire what you wanted to do. I remember when I was little, for a while, I wanted to be a vet. And then one day it just hit me that I'd have to put people’s beloved pets to sleep and..."
"Yeah, I know. That absolutely never gets easier for me, no matter how many times I've done it," Joe admits, eating one handed so he can keep holding David's hand. "But at least I can try and make it easier, both for the person, and for the animal. It's quiet, and it's peaceful. You know, most of the time, the animal is more worried about the person than themselves?" he confides.
David tilts his head a little and smiles sadly. "I can sort of imagine that. I, uh, I sometimes wonder if it was my selfishness with Fable--not wanting to let her go--that caused her to suffer. Or if it was that she was hanging on just for me."
"You know... I wouldn't worry about it as much as you are," Joe offers. "She was hanging on for you, I think. There's a bit of a look they get. But the pain she was in... she hadn't been in that kind of pain long. You would have known. It comes on quickly for them sometimes. You didn't make her suffer."
David blinks rapidly a few times, rubs at his nose, and looks down at his near-empty bowl.
"You, uh... we need more," Joe decides, getting up and going to find the pot of macaroni, giving David a moment. But pausing on the way over there to squeeze his shoulder.
David's a little embarrassed for a moment, but he smiles when Joe comes back. "It's like you know what they're thinking. You've got a remarkable gift."
That's one way of putting it. "Ah, I'm... you know, it's just being perceptive," he says, brushing it off and giving them both some more Kraft Dinner. "You get to know what certain looks and things mean. Especially when you spend all day with animals."
"Yeah, I guess you would, huh?" David digs in to the rest of his dinner. "You've done a good job here. Almost just like my mum's."
"Almost like your mum's... that's a compliment, right? Because I love her, but my mom's macaroni was nothing like this. You could lay bricks with it."
"That's a compliment. She could cook up a great pasta," David says. "And I'll teach you how to make spaghetti, which will be like my mum's, 'cause I make spaghetti almost as good as my mum does. She doesn't really have a recipe for her sauce, it's all just instinct, and mine's not quite as finely tuned as hers."
"The only thing I make by instinct is toast," Joe admits. "I'm really good at getting it exactly as cooked as I want to though."
"Ooh, I wish I could do that. I'm really fussy about how dark I like stuff cooked." And David can't get the toaster to co-operate. He never has.
"Then we've got a pretty good match, don't you think? I do the toast, and you cook everything else," Joe grins at him.
"Ah, ah. I'm gonna teach you how to cook first. And if that fails, well, you can do the cleaning." As if they're moving in already. David turns a bit red. Okay, more than a bit. He's red like he just stepped out of the shower.
Joe looks at David, takes in the blush, and smiles, reaching his foot out and poking David's. Just letting him know that it's okay. And more? He didn't mind the assumption.
David peeks up shyly, then smiles back at him.
"I have brownies," Joe offers, poking him with his foot again. "And ice cream. And jellybeans for on top."
"Brownies, ice cream, and jellybeans? Are you expecting me to be able to move?"
"How about if I promise you won't have to move far?"
"Fair enough."
*
[Back in 2000.]
[Takes place not so long after Joe and David do... stuff. And... things.]
Joe doesn't exactly have a lot of company. Uh, ever. And it shows. He's been racing around the house for the last few hours trying to get things cleaned up, and he's been mocked almost the entire time. Even pointing out that it's not wise to taunt the person who goes out and brings the food home doesn't help. The cats just threatened to eat him.
David is nothing if not punctual. Or, well, perpetually early. It's six-twenty when he rings the doorbell, holding a bottle of wine in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. He's scrubbed up nicely today, and he's nervous as hell.
Damn sweaty palms.
He knows that David's at the door before the doorbell even rings, because there's a sound like elephants galloping (do elephants gallop? Surely there's a better word. Stampede-that's the one) toward the door. "Guys, come on, give him a break!" he hollers, doing a good impersonation of an elephant himself as he comes down the stairs and opens the door, pushing dogs out of the way. "Come on in--just give them a shove if they won't move, they're harmless, I promise," he assures David.
"Oh, look at them. They're so happy to see me." David grins as he steps carefully into the hall. He thrusts the flowers at Joe. "Hi."
"Hi--you brought me flowers?" Joe looks like he's about to melt. "That's just... I'm going to have to lecture everyone in the house not to eat them so I can actually get to look at them for a few days. Angel, Riley, would you both just leave him alone?" Joe sounds mildly exasperated, but also not remotely surprised at the dogs behaviour.
"Angel and Riley?" David says, sounding amused. "Is Buffy around here somewhere?"
Joe points over David's shoulder at a tiny but bossy looking cat who's staring imperiously down at David. "Yup. I was on a bit of a kick there for awhile."
"That's adorable," David says. "So, um, the flowers aren't too much?"
"The flowers are perfect, and I love them," Joe assures him, leaning over and giving David a kiss on the cheek. Feeling strangely... well, not exactly gay, since that's obvious, but a little bit domestic, he clears his throat loudly and steps back, smiling at him. "So, yes, I should find something they can go in. And finish dinner."
"You're cooking for me? For real cooking, not something out of a package?" David teases lightly and follows Joe into the kitchen, Angel and Riley hot on their heels.
He's not very tall is he?
No. Not very tall at all. But he brings Joe presents, I guess that's something.
A little bit round in the middle.
So are you, Angel.
Am not!
"Well... that's really a matter of opinion, whether it counts as real cooking or not," Joe says, aiming a glare at the two dogs over David's shoulder. "There are packages involved, but I'm not just reheating something from the store. Angel, Riley, don't touch the flowers," he warns them, filling a vase and putting it on the counter.
He's got a dog. Smell his pants.
Cat too.
"Guys, guys, my knee isn't that interesting," David protests, laughing and gently urging the two dogs away.
Joe, why would you invite him but not his dog? We're nice. We'd be very friendly and even share.
Chase him around the backyard.
"So what are you making?" David asks as he comes around the counter to peer at the stove.
"They can smell Max and Pixel," Joe explains. "They're probably wondering why I didn't invite them to come and play with them. And... well... you said you grew up in Canada, right?" Joe says, looking a little shy as he tries to hide a covered pot.
"I should have brought them," David says. "I'm sorry I didn't." He peeks over Joe's shoulder, going up on his toes. "Are you making maple syrup?" he teases.
"No," Joe huffs, then lifts the lid off the top. "Kraft Dinner. The Canadian kind. Someone told me that the two are different, so... I got this one. And I should have suggested you bring Max and Pixel. They're always welcome, you know."
"You made me Kraft Dinner." David starts laughing helplessly, then leans up and gives Joe a kiss. "You romantic, you. My God, I haven't had that stuff since I went to visit my sister in Toronto two years ago."
"Well, I just hope I did it right," Joe says, poking at it with a spoon and looking a little nervous. "I had a few boxes shipped here, and it just seemed... it's not too dorky?"
"It's very dorky," David says, but he's smiling and he puts his arms around Joe's neck. "So dorky I think I'm going to kiss you again."
"Mmm... careful, don't want to get distracted," Joe murmurs, leaning in for the promised kiss. "I don't know what kind of shelf life this stuff has if it's ignored."
"I'm keeping a really close eye on it," David says, after another kiss.
"Yeah, I can really tell," Joe laughs, fighting the urge to push David up against the counter. Apparently kitchens were going to be a problem for the two of them in terms of making them get all interested in 'stuff'. "Templeton, leave David's cuffs alone."
David peers down. "You have a ferret."
Ooh, what a clever man. Is he going to point out what colour I am next?
Joe closes his eyes for a moment, resisting the urge to tell the ferret to shut up. "Templeton, meet David. David, that's Templeton. Don't worry, he won't actually go up your pant leg, but he likes chewing on cuffs."
"Hello, Templeton."
Ugh, he has a dog too?
We're standing right here. We can hear you.
Templeton sniffs disdainfully and starts making his way to the cat bed. Tell me if someone worthwhile shows up.
"Well, he's not overly enthusiastic, is he?" David peeks into the pot. "Dinner's just about ready."
"Buffy and Faith aren't going to be thrilled with you being in their bed," Joe warns him. "I think it is, actually. There's other stuff too... bread, and salad. I went kind of basic for dinner and splurged on dessert," he says, grinning.
"Mmm, dessert." David randomly opens a cupboard and finds bowls for the Kraft dinner. "So you've got Buffy, Faith, Angel, and Riley. How come you didn't go with, I don't know, Giles or Oz or something for the ferret?"
"Because he's a cranky, sarcastic, packrat of a ferret, who eats like a pig. Templeton just made sense for him," Joe explains, getting the salad out of the fridge.
"Oh. Well, that makes sense." David grabs plates for the salad. "You're spoiling me here, Joe."
"I made you Kraft dinner and lettuce with tomatoes and carrots. I don't really see how that's spoiling you," he laughs. "Beer, milk, water... Kool-Aid?"
David thinks about this. "Chocolate milk?" he asks, hopefully.
"Will you settle for regular milk and chocolate milk syrup? 'Cause I know I've got some of that," Joe says, reaching up into one of the cupboards and handing it over. "Is that what goes with Kraft Dinner?"
"Well, maybe if you're seven," David replies, grinning madly. "Or if you're feeling all nostalgic. I used to baby-sit my sisters, and I'd make them Kraft dinner with chocolate milk. Kate would put ketchup in hers." He takes the chocolate syrup. "Her Kraft dinner, not her milk."
"You know, I was just about to ask," Joe admits. "Do we need ketchup? I've got some, I think."
"I never liked Ketchup in mine," David says as he squeezes a rather liberal amount of the chocolate syrup into his milk.
"Then we can skip it. You're the native here, I'm treading on your national cuisine," Joe says, taking the syrup from David once he's done and pouring a glass of milk for himself.
"You make it sound almost exotic," David says, dryly. He kisses Joe's cheek, then starts to dish out the salad for both of them.
"Well, compared to what you were gonna get, it kind of is. I make a really mean call to the pizza delivery place."
"I already know that," David says, starting to carry things to the table.
"Also Chinese, Thai, Indian... there's a spaghetti place down the way that's really pretty good...."
"Joe," David says, despairingly. "I'm going to need to teach you how to make spaghetti?"
"No! I can make spaghetti!" Lies, lies, and dirty untruths.
Liar. That comes from both dogs, who are trying to be all discreet curled up under the table.
"Hush!" The admonition comes automatically, and Joe covers it by peering under the table. "Thought I wouldn't know you were under there, huh? No Kraft Dinner for you two--go find your beds."
The dogs retreat to their beds, Angel casting a look back at Joe on the way out of the kitchen.
Templeton lifts his head. Does this mean I get Kraft Dinner?
Joe just rolls his eyes and ignores the ferret. "Sorry. It really is a bit of a zoo around here. You haven't even seen everyone yet."
"Who's missing?" David asks, sitting down. "Two dogs, a cat--no, sorry, two cats--and a ferret. That's quite a bit."
"Another two cats who are mine, and... let me think for a minute. Up in the spare room I've got two cats who I'm rehabilitating who I'm hoping to find a home for, and two dogs in the backyard, who I'm hoping the same for," Joe lists off.
"Four cats?"
"If you're not counting the two in the spare bedroom, yeah. Four."
David smiles. "That's really sweet."
"Sweet is one word I've heard. Also insane, and 'a hissing madhouse'," Joe says wryly.
"I think it's wonderful that you care so much. Not enough people do."
"No, they don't. But," Joe says, pausing for a bite of macaroni, "sometimes I get lucky and people help me out. Adopt some of the others so that I don't end up with an utter houseful. Like you and Pixel."
"Y'know, one of my geeks has been talking about wanting to get a cat. Maybe you could stop by the store to meet him?"
"Really?" Joe perks up. "Yeah, I definitely could. I could bring by the two I've got, see if he clicks with either of them. And if not, people are always offering me kittens when their cats get knocked up."
David winces. "Don't you have the 'please spay or neuter your pets' chat with lots of people?"
"Yeah, but that doesn't help me out with the professional breeders whose husbands open the door because 'that damned cat wouldn't stop yowling," Joe says, rolling his eyes.
"Oh, God. I had a boyfriend in college who just... didn't understand Fable. If a couple can't be on the same page about animals, they just shouldn't. Big no. No, no, no. I learned that lesson so fast I'm sure the guy's head spun when I broke up with him."
"What do you mean he didn't understand her? Didn't understand why she was important to you?" Of course, understanding animals means something a little different when it's Joe, but still.
"Yeah. And he couldn't cope with her talking. She was a very vocal girl when she was hungry or wanted out and he'd just snap at her." David sighs. "I was young and dumb and only twenty-one."
"Hey, we all made some stupid decisions in our twenties. I dated a girl once who was so afraid of one of my dogs that she cried. She said it was going to attack her and knock her down and hurt her. It was a shi-tzu."
David almost chokes on a piece of celery. "Oh my God. Seriously?"
"Seriously. It was a very friendly shi-tzu too! Laid back, quiet, never jumped, barely even barked. She walked in the door and burst into tears," Joe rolls his eyes. "I've... actually, I've had a lot of people break up with me because of the animals. Because of my job."
David reaches across the table and covers Joe's hand with his. "I'm sorry. I had a few boyfriends who didn't get my job, either. There's a select few customers who are allowed to call me at home and that hasn't sat well with a few guys."
"Well, in your business, I'd guess unexpected calls at unexpected times sometimes happen, huh? For me too, obviously." Joe turns his hand over and gives David's a squeeze. "If someone's show cat is in labour and having trouble and needs a C-section, I'm coming in. Emergencies, traumas... I work with a few other people, obviously, but we all take our turn being on call."
"Yeah, that sounds very slightly familiar. Obviously somebody's laptop isn't quite the same as somebody's cocker spaniel, but..." David frowns a little and looks down. "I really admire what you wanted to do. I remember when I was little, for a while, I wanted to be a vet. And then one day it just hit me that I'd have to put people’s beloved pets to sleep and..."
"Yeah, I know. That absolutely never gets easier for me, no matter how many times I've done it," Joe admits, eating one handed so he can keep holding David's hand. "But at least I can try and make it easier, both for the person, and for the animal. It's quiet, and it's peaceful. You know, most of the time, the animal is more worried about the person than themselves?" he confides.
David tilts his head a little and smiles sadly. "I can sort of imagine that. I, uh, I sometimes wonder if it was my selfishness with Fable--not wanting to let her go--that caused her to suffer. Or if it was that she was hanging on just for me."
"You know... I wouldn't worry about it as much as you are," Joe offers. "She was hanging on for you, I think. There's a bit of a look they get. But the pain she was in... she hadn't been in that kind of pain long. You would have known. It comes on quickly for them sometimes. You didn't make her suffer."
David blinks rapidly a few times, rubs at his nose, and looks down at his near-empty bowl.
"You, uh... we need more," Joe decides, getting up and going to find the pot of macaroni, giving David a moment. But pausing on the way over there to squeeze his shoulder.
David's a little embarrassed for a moment, but he smiles when Joe comes back. "It's like you know what they're thinking. You've got a remarkable gift."
That's one way of putting it. "Ah, I'm... you know, it's just being perceptive," he says, brushing it off and giving them both some more Kraft Dinner. "You get to know what certain looks and things mean. Especially when you spend all day with animals."
"Yeah, I guess you would, huh?" David digs in to the rest of his dinner. "You've done a good job here. Almost just like my mum's."
"Almost like your mum's... that's a compliment, right? Because I love her, but my mom's macaroni was nothing like this. You could lay bricks with it."
"That's a compliment. She could cook up a great pasta," David says. "And I'll teach you how to make spaghetti, which will be like my mum's, 'cause I make spaghetti almost as good as my mum does. She doesn't really have a recipe for her sauce, it's all just instinct, and mine's not quite as finely tuned as hers."
"The only thing I make by instinct is toast," Joe admits. "I'm really good at getting it exactly as cooked as I want to though."
"Ooh, I wish I could do that. I'm really fussy about how dark I like stuff cooked." And David can't get the toaster to co-operate. He never has.
"Then we've got a pretty good match, don't you think? I do the toast, and you cook everything else," Joe grins at him.
"Ah, ah. I'm gonna teach you how to cook first. And if that fails, well, you can do the cleaning." As if they're moving in already. David turns a bit red. Okay, more than a bit. He's red like he just stepped out of the shower.
Joe looks at David, takes in the blush, and smiles, reaching his foot out and poking David's. Just letting him know that it's okay. And more? He didn't mind the assumption.
David peeks up shyly, then smiles back at him.
"I have brownies," Joe offers, poking him with his foot again. "And ice cream. And jellybeans for on top."
"Brownies, ice cream, and jellybeans? Are you expecting me to be able to move?"
"How about if I promise you won't have to move far?"
"Fair enough."
