The Mop Bucket Incident

The Mop Bucket Incident

So this is inspired by a simply beautiful piece of art by Watazuki, who has very kindly let me use it in the story (it's at the bottom, and you can find more stunning Cassarian artwork on her tumblr account), and a conversation coming up with innocent reasons for them to have forgotten to wear trousers (I think it was nerdasaurus who suggested a mop bucket incident). Obviously, because I am filthy-minded I haven't kept the idea completely innocent, experimented slightly in form, may or may not work. So here it is-

P.S. Sorry in advance for any mistakes, my brain is just soggy noodles at the moment.

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Varian sighed, his maths was wrong, he could tell, though he wasn't sure where exactly he'd gone wrong. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, almost dislodging the goggles that were resting on his head but managing to catch them just before they fell. He took a moment to rest his head in his hands. Tired, that was it, he told himself, he was just tired, but he knew that wasn't the only reason his brain was failing to do reasonably simple calculations.

She had been gone a week, and he didn't expect that she would be back for another three days. He could never concentrate on his work when she was absent. Strangely it used to be the other way round, that people would distract him from his work, but since he and Cassandra had moved into their little cottage and his days had started to follow a more socially normal pattern, he had to admit, he worked better. He'd hear her training in the field beside the barn where his lab was now situated, and although his brain would block out the sounds, somehow he was comforted knowing she was nearby.

He threw his pen across the barn frustratedly, disturbing Ruddiger from where he was taking a nap in a pile of loose hay. The Raccoon gave him a startled look and chirped at him.

"Sorry Buddy." Varian sighed. "Nothing seems to be working today."

The Racoon tilted his head to one side and sat patiently as if waiting for Varian to continue.

"Do you ever miss her when she's gone?" He asked.

Ruddiger gave a slow but sure nod.

"It's like I can't cope with the emptiness, and the quietness, not like I used to."

Ruddiger chirped and took a running jump up onto the table where he ran round Varian's shoulder before jumping back down and heading out the open barn door.

"You're right. Time for a break." Varian said getting up and stretching. He pulled out a mop and bucket from the corner of his lab and headed to the well next to the house, He'd decided that if he couldn't work the he could at least try and make the cottage look a little cleaner for when Cassandra came back. Ruddiger ran round his feet as he pulled the bucket up, and Varian stopped for a moment to let him take a drink of the well water before he disappeared again, probably in search of apples, or trouble.

As Varian decantated one bucket into the other he could hear the distinct sound of hooves coming along the road to the west of the cottage. Though his heart jumped at the sound, his head told him that it was just somebody travelling into the city. Cassandra wasn't due back yet and wishing wouldn't be enough to make her appear. He carried the bucket into the small cottage, rolled up the rug, and started mopping through the tiled downstairs area.

He didn't hear, so much as sense the presence that was in the open doorway. He froze, always aware of their isolated position here beyond the walls, always aware that some people might still hold grudges. His hand reached for his belt where he kept an immobilising orb as he slowly turned to face the newcomer.

"Be careful not to drop that, the purple residue will ruin your nice clean floor."

"Cassandra!"