Wherein a word or phrase can be the start of something fun and wonderful.
Some are simply stand-alone ficlets or drabbles. Some link up with published stories. Some end up previews for things yet to come.
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"Bobbie! Babe?"
Bobbie's head pops up off your lap, his nose tipping the bottom of your book in his rush to alert you - in case you missed it - to the fact that Tom is home and calling for the pair of you. You purse your lips as you scratch behind the chocolate spaniel's ears. You rate second behind the dog? But then Bobbie had chosen you this morning, opting to stay and comfort his other human versus going out for a run with Tom.
Tom, who is still a little out of breath from his run when he makes his grand entrance after seeking you out. The whole rest of the house to take his sweaty self to and he heads straight for you. And his dog.
"How's our girl, bud?"
The entire loveseat is practically vibrating with Bobbie's enthusiasm, his love for Tom. The steady wag of his tail that had just about kept rhythm with the clock while Tom was out is now replaced by the quick and sporadic whaps of a happy dog's. Your canine water bottle will soon abandon you to play with Tom and you'll have to seek out other methods of comfort to battle your cramps.
Before you can do much more than look up from your book, mentally marking your place on the page, Tom has crossed the room and relaxes down into a pile of limbs - half on, half off the loveseat. Not much more room on it, after all. You and the pup? Tom certainly won't fit, too.
He flops his arms down mostly next to you, and rests his head atop his forearms grinning as Bobbie moves to snuffle at his ear. "Uuunrrrfffhhh."
It's not quite a word. Definitely something you'd categorize as a sound of relief. Maybe it's just an odd noise, though, in response to a cold nose and the hot pulse of doggy-breath?
"Good run, hon?" You reach over Bobbie, who hasn't quite left your lap, to pat the side of Tom's head. It's a carefully chosen spot, one of the few not-sweaty places that exist on him at the moment. The hair at the back of his neck, in contrast, is curling from perspiration.
Tom picks his head up to better be able to grin at you, only flicking a sideways glance at the furry chocolate mischief maker vying for his attention. "It was great! And oh - there was a gorgeous retriever playing in the park that you would have loved and---"
His eyes are sparkling as he regales you and Bobbie with the tales of his morning run. As sorry as you are for missing the action - a near calamity a few blocks down when a motorist almost collided with a cyclist! - you just didn't feel like getting up and running this morning. Your lady parts and the early stages of that time of the month and all that.
"Of course," Tom snuggles a little closer, ignoring the renewed snuffles and tentative licks from Bobbie, instead keeping those blue eyes of his locked on yours as he leans his torso against your legs, "I missed my running partners horribly."
