Followed Me Home (C'ross)

[giftwrapped]

I'saac wasn't hiding. No, that would be stupid. There was absolutely no truth to any suspicions anyone might have held that I'saac was holed up hiding in the weyr for fear of running into Weyrlings. That was absolutely ridiculous. Hiding from dragonets? No. that didn't even make sense. I'saac would never hide from dragonets - or anything. I'saac didn't hide. Of course...if he wasn't hiding? Well, 'avoiding' was a pretty good word for what he was doing. He was getting better, yes, but 'better' wasn't at all the same as 'the same as before,' and while I'saac was usually all right about dragons, there was something about the weyrlings. He was happy for them, yes. But happy for someone didn't mean you had to be near them.

Needless to say, the man had been spending most of his time in the forge when C'ross was out, and holed up in the Weyr when C'ross was in. And sometimes, when actual smiths needed the forge (or Siata was out doing...whatever it was Siata had taken to doing recently), he would take bits and pieces of his work home. Which was what he was doing now, cross-legged on the floor of the weyr with a small roll of jeweler's tools in front of him, fiddling with one of the numerous folding knives that he had taken to playing with. This one wasn't springloaded, like Siata's experiments had been. It was a pair of handles that folded and unfolded up over the blade.

Whoever wrote the manual on dealing with dragonless would probably have panicked at the idea of a former-rider distracting himself by building knives. Of course, I'saac had never exactly been 'normal' by anyone's standards, and anyways, today was a good day. A good, slightly delusional day. Nicoth wasn't speaking to him, but there was the distinct impression in his head that some small part of the green was keeping an eye on him. And so he was quiet and moderately cheerful as he worked on the knife, tweaking mechanisms and testing heft and balance, occasionally slapping it open or closed before making more adjustments. Siata, he suspected, would like this one. C'ross might like it too, come to think of it.

Either way, as long as it kept him busy while C'ross was out, I'saac planned on doing it to the best of his ability.

[tuathade]

C’ross hadn’t really intended for this to happen.

Oh, it had seemed like a fantastic idea at the time. At least until Merceth was back on official patrols, C’ross spent most of his shifts working with the guards on the ground, and he’d gotten to know some of the boys fairly well. Well enough that, dragonrider or no, he’d been invited to one of the evening dragonpoker games. A skin of something unidentifiable but more-or-less alcoholic had been passed around, people got silly with the bets. It took a lot to make the bronzerider unwind, but… it had been a stressful season, and with the success of the Hatching everything just seemed to be looking up at last. And then he’d been dealt a straight, which was fantastic, but…

Merceth was not helpful. Merceth had just laughed. He is either going to love it, or he’s going to think you’ve gone suddenly mad. I think you’ve gone mad, personally. But that’s all right, I won’t tell the Overseer.[/color] And with that the bronze had rolled over, tucked his head under his wing, and disavowed all knowledge of the situation. C’ross was on his own.

So that was how C’ross ended up with a puppy. A puppy he had won by accident off a guard whose bitch had just had a litter. It was black and seemed to be made of mostly fluff. It also kept trying to lick his face.

He tapped on the door to let I’saac know he was there; from experience, C’ross knew that the smith could get very absorbed in his work, to the exclusion of all else. (Much to C’ross’ frustration, at times.) Still, I’saac being back in ‘engineer mode’ meant he had something to occupy him and distract him from the weyrlings. C’ross had been at both the Hatching and the Feast, and had seen the dragonless man at neither. It wasn’t surprising. Merceth was one thing, Merceth considered himself more-or-less I’saac’s dragon by proxy. A whole bunch of new Impressions was just salt in a healing wound.

“Hey,” C’ross said softly, in the gentle tones that were reserved for his weyrmate and his weyrmate alone. “Still working on Siata’s gadget?”

[giftwrapped]

The tap made I'saac jump briefly but he covered it by hunching further over the knife, and by the time C'ross had opened the door, it mostly just appeared that he was totally immersed in his work. He answered the 'hey' by lifting his hand, twiddling his fingers in something that was half 'hello' and half 'hangon just a second, would you?' - a gesture that he had no doubt upset C'ross just a little bit. But he was almost to the point where he could actually set this down and give C'ross his full attention without feeling bad about having done so, and he just had to tweak this and then he'd...

"Not in so many words, no," he answered absently, words seemingly entirely disconnected with his work. "She's still playing with her Warden's Guard-knife, and I'm..." inventing entirely new and creative ways to conceal weapons and kill people, that's what. "...playing with things." And then he folded the knife, smiling at the small 'snap' that meant both handles were seated securely around the blade. Then, carefully, he lifted the knife, hit a switch, and with a quick, deft movement snapped the two handles back together.

"Not sure what the practical applications of this little fella will be yet, but you never know." He looked up then, giving C'ross one of his faint smiles, and stopped dead. A quick flip and the knife was closed again, and I'saac left it on the floor as he went to his weyrmate. "C'ross," he said quietly, frowning a little bit as he got closer. It looked like - yes, yes it was. And it was adorable. And it was trying to lick C'ross's face and why was he so grumpy it was a puppy. "C'ross, why do you have a puppy?"

Not that he really cared, because C'ross had his arms full of black fluff and I'saac was petting it and it was trying to lick his face. I'saac had made a decision.

He liked puppies a lot.

[tuathade]

C’ross grouched a little at the handwave, but kept silent and waited. Even if he tried to interrupt I’saac at this point, it wouldn’t work. Trying to distract the smith from his little inventions was like trying to coax a gold flit away from her eggs, only instead of biting you the flit just kept glancing back distractedly and making pathetic faces.

It looked like this time the project was something small, intricate, and very sharp. This might have bothered C’ross a few months ago, but he hardly batted an eye now. I’saac was I’saac. If he was going to hurt himself with something sharp, he would have done it already – and when C’ross wasn’t standing right there to stop him. So he waited patiently while the puppy continued its valiant quest to lick his face. He would be grumpy if he wanted to be, shardit, puppy or no.

I’saac looked up and his smile went away, and C’ross spent a second or two mentally combing through his list of acquaintances – would any of them take a puppy on short notice? “I didn’t do it on purpose,” he replied to I’saac’s question, a little more defensive than the situation really warranted.

False alarm, though – apparently no one could resist the power of puppies, because suddenly I’saac was petting the ball of fluff, and C’ross was having a good bit of trouble holding onto a furiously wiggling puppy butt, its tail wagging so hard that it made the entire creature practically vibrate. Well, at least it was friendly. “It’s ours now, more or less. If you want it I mean.” Nonchalantly, like bringing home a canine was no big deal.

[giftwrapped]

Ours. C'ross had gotten a puppy. And it was his. I'saac's. Theirs.

"Ours?" he repeated, a trifle anxious for a moment - why had they gotten a puppy - how would they - where would they keep it and what were they supposed to do with a puppy? But the anxiety passed because of the little wiggly puppy that was trying to climb out of C'ross's arms and into his, and I'saac gathered the little black fluffball (not actually as little as he had expected! This was a little puppy that was going to grow up into a big dog!) into his own grip, letting it plant its paws on his shoulders while it ferociously licked his face.

"...." was all he could say for a moment, so overwhelmed was he by the sheer volume of cute the creature was putting out. After a second, though, he adjusted his grip, moving the puppy so it was less in his face and more in his arms. It continued licking his chin even as he did so, and I'saac found himself laughing softly at the little thing. "I'd like that," he answered. "I think it might be nice to add someone new around here. Hopefully Useless and Harper won't hate it too badly..." Though neither had been with C'ross when he showed up bearing puppy. Not necessarily a good sign.

"Y'know, C'ross," he remarked quietly, amusement in his voice, "if it weren't you, I'd assume you found..." he paused for a second, then, flipping the little creature in his arms over and briefly glancing at its belly while it whined in protest and licked his hand, "...him wandering and were just so overwhelmed by the cute that you had to bring him home."

And then he looked up at C'ross, quirking a smile that might have been just the slightest bit cheeky. "But since you're you, I'm guessing that wasn't the case." He made as if to put the puppy down, then remembered the jeweler's tools and assorted pointy bits he had been working on and thought better of it. The puppy was resettled so it was mostly under one arm. I'saac reached out lightly to touch C'ross's face lovingly, in what was almost a caress. "So what's the story?"