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fredbassettTitle : Little Bounders
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 12
Characters : Becker/Ryan, Alex, Marcus, Kay & others
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : None
Word Count : 1,638
Summary : There were times when Becker missed the good old days
A/N : 1) Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fififolle’s birthday. I hope you have a lovely day! 2) Set in pup!verse, and yes, that means it contains real puppies.
A series of high-pitched squeals assaulted Becker’s ears with the force of a 9mm Parabellum bullet being fired through his brain at point blank range.
Anyone waxing lyrical about the musical beauty of a pup’s bark had clearly never experienced his three and their partners-in-crime in full hue and cry. Becker was upstairs in the study but it was a warm day and most of the windows were open, so there was no escaping the volley of barks and yips that the kids were letting out as they tore around the garden at speed.
Becker winced as a particularly fruity series of barks from little Flo proved yet again that Stringer was clearly incapable of moderating his language in the vicinity of his offspring, despite his mate’s disapproval. At this rate, they were going to get complaints from the neighbours again.
A couple of teachers had moved in next door a few weeks ago, and Becker felt that the Ryan-Becker household done nothing but make a bad impression ever since. They’d got off to a bad start on the neighbours’ first day in occupation when a ball had smashed a pane of glass in the greenhouse. That had been compounded the following day by Lyle offering the Bentham’s highly-cosseted bundle of rose-gold fur a pig’s ear by way of apology for the fact that yet another ball had gone flying over the hedge for the umpteenth time that afternoon, on the final occasion managing to land in the paddling pool and spray water all over darling Lucie.
The resulting howls from the cosseted pup had sounded like someone was serving pork for tea, without going to the trouble of humanely killing the pig first. The slightly-chewed offering had been unceremoniously returned to Lyle, much to Marcus’s delight, and a polite but frosty letter of complaint had landed on the mat the following morning.
“Less of that, you little madam!” Ryan roared in a parade ground voice that was probably audible at the other end of the street.
Flo barked cheerfully, knowing full well that Ryan, like her father, was putty in her little black paws most of the time.
Becker groaned and banged his head on the desk. The sodding report he’d been staring at blankly for the last half hour was never going to get written at this rate. Not for the first time in the past week, he was heartily regretting giving in to the pleas – in triplicate – for a garden trampoline. The little sods had been bouncing around like jumping beans on speed ever since, incorporating their new toy into every single garden game. The fact that they’d now got past the stage of bringing up their last meal in the process was little consolation.
He looked out of the window in time to see Ryan deftly fielding Alex as their eldest managed to hurtle over the protective netting in the direction of the shrubbery, howling in delight. Becker grabbed the notepad on the desk and scrawled: buy higher netting!!!
He was in desperate need of more caffeine, but with Ryan on sentry duty in the garden, it looked like he’d have to make his own coffee. He almost reached the bottom of the stairs when a combined flurry of chocolate and pale blonde went past him at speed, almost sending him arse over tit. He bit back a curse that would have done Stringer proud and wondered when the bookish Olivia had turned into yet another holy terror.
“Kay! Olivia! No running on the stairs!”
He might as well have been talking to himself, but at least it had made him feel better. A moment later, Marcus, in hot pursuit of his best friend, skidded in through the back door, ran twice around the kitchen doing his best to bite Liam’s bum, by the look of things, and then ran back out again, nearly tripping Becker up in the process.
Once he’d finally got as far as making two mugs of coffee, he went out to join Ryan in the garden, muttering darkly, “Remind me again why I don’t just commit puppycide?”
“Because you love them?” Ryan hazarded.
“Hmm, try that again next time one of the little sods chucks a ball into next door’s roses and expects me to get it back for them, or sends me flying on the stairs or…” Becker broke off his diatribe as a puppy ran full tilt into the back of his legs, sending a fountain of coffee over the grass and ripping a barrack room curse out of his mouth before he had time to bite it back.
“Captain Becker! There are children in the garden!” called a disapproving voice from beyond the overgrown hedge. “Lucie is not used to language like that!”
“Our lot are,” Ryan said under his breath.
Becker groaned and glared at the assembled pups who’d all broken off what they were doing to stare at him, heads tilted sideways, pink tongues lolling out of their mouths.
“Not a jury in the world will convict me…” he threatened. “Sorry, Mrs Bentham! Minor incident with coffee! Won’t happen again!”
A loud harrumph told him she was unconvinced. By the look of the little sods, the pups agreed with her.
“All right, you lot, time out!” Ryan ordered. “If I hear so much as a yip from any of you in the next five minutes, I’m locking you all in the shed and starving you to death. Got it?”
Becker winced. At this rate Mrs Bloody Bentham would no doubt be calling the Pup Protection Officer if their parenting standards fell any lower.
Fortunately, the kids knew when discretion was the better part of valour. Liam, who was a law-abiding little soul at heart, led a largely silent stream of pups into the large shed, where they all promptly collapsed in a panting heap of multi-coloured fur.
After dispensing a glare at the lot of them Becker went back into the kitchen to make another coffee. Ryan followed and slipped his arms around Becker’s waist.
Becker sighed. “I’m not saying I’d go as far as joining the Friends of Cruella de Vil, but the idea of sending an anonymous donation is getting more appealing by the minute.”
Ryan nuzzled his ear. “Report not going well?”
“I can’t see what’s wrong with just sending him a list of the ammo we used and Finn’s scorecard. Abby doesn’t have a good word to say for raptors, and even Cutter didn’t bitch that much.”
“Good point, well made. But Lester might not see it that way.”
“And I bet Her Next Door’s pup never gets over-excited and throws up all over the rug,” Becker said gloomily, returning to his original theme.
“Why do you think we’ve got polished wood floors?”
“So the kids can use them as a skating rink?”
“There is that,” Ryan agreed. “But at least the rugs are washable.”
“They bloody well need to be. Is it six o’clock yet?”
Ryan nuzzled his neck for a moment the said, “Sorry to break it to you, sweetheart, but there’s another hour of pup-wrangling to go before we pack the fiends from hell back off to their doting parents and get time off for good behaviour. So what’ll it be? Guard duty or report writing?”
“Report writing,” Becker said with what was probably indecent haste.
Ryan grinned and gave him a quick kiss.
Two minutes later, time out was over and pups started bouncing around on the trampoline again, ricocheting around the netting enclosure like bullets in a tank, and making about as much noise.
Mentally composing a letter of apology to half the neighbourhood – fortunately the other half consisted of Dr White, and he was as deaf as a post – Becker turned his laptop on again and tried to muster a report that would get past Lorraine Wickes en route to Lester.
The background cacophony continued unabated until assorted parents arrived more or less at the appointed time to take their pups home for tea. After feeding their own three and getting them ready for bed, Becker took over parental duties for the bedtime stories while Ryan went to fetch a takeaway.
By the time his mate arrived back with fish, chips, mushy peas and curry sauce, Becker had got all three settled and had downed a cold beer with indecent haste. Fortunately for his sanity, carbohydrates and alcohol soon put a different complexion on life. Becker leaned contentedly on Ryan’s shoulder drinking more beer from the bottle and listening to quiet snuffling on the pup monitor.
“Still contemplating puppycide?” Ryan said as he reached out and pulled a photo album off the shelf next to the fireplace.
“Depends on how much grovelling I have to do next time I see any of the neighbours.”
Ryan opened the album at random and Becker found himself looking at a picture of the three pups, aged no more than a month old, on their first trip into the countryside. They were piled in a heap on green summer grass, surrounded by flowers. Alex was at the bottom of the pile, his fur paler than it was now, with Kay’s brown head resting on top of his. Marcus was sprawled out on top of the pair of them, a quizzical expression on his small face, one paw treading on Alex and the other around his sister’s back.
Becker’s heart melted at the sight of his two youngest staring straight at the camera while his eldest chewed something he’d found in the grass. He turned to Ryan, a lump in his throat and tears in his eyes. “Christ, were they ever that small?”
Ryan nodded, covering Becker’s lips in a gentle kiss that spoke of love, warmth and everything good in life, and Becker knew that there was nothing more he wanted than to spend the rest of his life with the mate he loved and their children.
No matter how many mugs of coffee the little sods caused him to decant onto the grass.
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 12
Characters : Becker/Ryan, Alex, Marcus, Kay & others
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : None
Word Count : 1,638
Summary : There were times when Becker missed the good old days
A/N : 1) Written for
fififolle’s birthday. I hope you have a lovely day! 2) Set in pup!verse, and yes, that means it contains real puppies.A series of high-pitched squeals assaulted Becker’s ears with the force of a 9mm Parabellum bullet being fired through his brain at point blank range.
Anyone waxing lyrical about the musical beauty of a pup’s bark had clearly never experienced his three and their partners-in-crime in full hue and cry. Becker was upstairs in the study but it was a warm day and most of the windows were open, so there was no escaping the volley of barks and yips that the kids were letting out as they tore around the garden at speed.
Becker winced as a particularly fruity series of barks from little Flo proved yet again that Stringer was clearly incapable of moderating his language in the vicinity of his offspring, despite his mate’s disapproval. At this rate, they were going to get complaints from the neighbours again.
A couple of teachers had moved in next door a few weeks ago, and Becker felt that the Ryan-Becker household done nothing but make a bad impression ever since. They’d got off to a bad start on the neighbours’ first day in occupation when a ball had smashed a pane of glass in the greenhouse. That had been compounded the following day by Lyle offering the Bentham’s highly-cosseted bundle of rose-gold fur a pig’s ear by way of apology for the fact that yet another ball had gone flying over the hedge for the umpteenth time that afternoon, on the final occasion managing to land in the paddling pool and spray water all over darling Lucie.
The resulting howls from the cosseted pup had sounded like someone was serving pork for tea, without going to the trouble of humanely killing the pig first. The slightly-chewed offering had been unceremoniously returned to Lyle, much to Marcus’s delight, and a polite but frosty letter of complaint had landed on the mat the following morning.
“Less of that, you little madam!” Ryan roared in a parade ground voice that was probably audible at the other end of the street.
Flo barked cheerfully, knowing full well that Ryan, like her father, was putty in her little black paws most of the time.
Becker groaned and banged his head on the desk. The sodding report he’d been staring at blankly for the last half hour was never going to get written at this rate. Not for the first time in the past week, he was heartily regretting giving in to the pleas – in triplicate – for a garden trampoline. The little sods had been bouncing around like jumping beans on speed ever since, incorporating their new toy into every single garden game. The fact that they’d now got past the stage of bringing up their last meal in the process was little consolation.
He looked out of the window in time to see Ryan deftly fielding Alex as their eldest managed to hurtle over the protective netting in the direction of the shrubbery, howling in delight. Becker grabbed the notepad on the desk and scrawled: buy higher netting!!!
He was in desperate need of more caffeine, but with Ryan on sentry duty in the garden, it looked like he’d have to make his own coffee. He almost reached the bottom of the stairs when a combined flurry of chocolate and pale blonde went past him at speed, almost sending him arse over tit. He bit back a curse that would have done Stringer proud and wondered when the bookish Olivia had turned into yet another holy terror.
“Kay! Olivia! No running on the stairs!”
He might as well have been talking to himself, but at least it had made him feel better. A moment later, Marcus, in hot pursuit of his best friend, skidded in through the back door, ran twice around the kitchen doing his best to bite Liam’s bum, by the look of things, and then ran back out again, nearly tripping Becker up in the process.
Once he’d finally got as far as making two mugs of coffee, he went out to join Ryan in the garden, muttering darkly, “Remind me again why I don’t just commit puppycide?”
“Because you love them?” Ryan hazarded.
“Hmm, try that again next time one of the little sods chucks a ball into next door’s roses and expects me to get it back for them, or sends me flying on the stairs or…” Becker broke off his diatribe as a puppy ran full tilt into the back of his legs, sending a fountain of coffee over the grass and ripping a barrack room curse out of his mouth before he had time to bite it back.
“Captain Becker! There are children in the garden!” called a disapproving voice from beyond the overgrown hedge. “Lucie is not used to language like that!”
“Our lot are,” Ryan said under his breath.
Becker groaned and glared at the assembled pups who’d all broken off what they were doing to stare at him, heads tilted sideways, pink tongues lolling out of their mouths.
“Not a jury in the world will convict me…” he threatened. “Sorry, Mrs Bentham! Minor incident with coffee! Won’t happen again!”
A loud harrumph told him she was unconvinced. By the look of the little sods, the pups agreed with her.
“All right, you lot, time out!” Ryan ordered. “If I hear so much as a yip from any of you in the next five minutes, I’m locking you all in the shed and starving you to death. Got it?”
Becker winced. At this rate Mrs Bloody Bentham would no doubt be calling the Pup Protection Officer if their parenting standards fell any lower.
Fortunately, the kids knew when discretion was the better part of valour. Liam, who was a law-abiding little soul at heart, led a largely silent stream of pups into the large shed, where they all promptly collapsed in a panting heap of multi-coloured fur.
After dispensing a glare at the lot of them Becker went back into the kitchen to make another coffee. Ryan followed and slipped his arms around Becker’s waist.
Becker sighed. “I’m not saying I’d go as far as joining the Friends of Cruella de Vil, but the idea of sending an anonymous donation is getting more appealing by the minute.”
Ryan nuzzled his ear. “Report not going well?”
“I can’t see what’s wrong with just sending him a list of the ammo we used and Finn’s scorecard. Abby doesn’t have a good word to say for raptors, and even Cutter didn’t bitch that much.”
“Good point, well made. But Lester might not see it that way.”
“And I bet Her Next Door’s pup never gets over-excited and throws up all over the rug,” Becker said gloomily, returning to his original theme.
“Why do you think we’ve got polished wood floors?”
“So the kids can use them as a skating rink?”
“There is that,” Ryan agreed. “But at least the rugs are washable.”
“They bloody well need to be. Is it six o’clock yet?”
Ryan nuzzled his neck for a moment the said, “Sorry to break it to you, sweetheart, but there’s another hour of pup-wrangling to go before we pack the fiends from hell back off to their doting parents and get time off for good behaviour. So what’ll it be? Guard duty or report writing?”
“Report writing,” Becker said with what was probably indecent haste.
Ryan grinned and gave him a quick kiss.
Two minutes later, time out was over and pups started bouncing around on the trampoline again, ricocheting around the netting enclosure like bullets in a tank, and making about as much noise.
Mentally composing a letter of apology to half the neighbourhood – fortunately the other half consisted of Dr White, and he was as deaf as a post – Becker turned his laptop on again and tried to muster a report that would get past Lorraine Wickes en route to Lester.
The background cacophony continued unabated until assorted parents arrived more or less at the appointed time to take their pups home for tea. After feeding their own three and getting them ready for bed, Becker took over parental duties for the bedtime stories while Ryan went to fetch a takeaway.
By the time his mate arrived back with fish, chips, mushy peas and curry sauce, Becker had got all three settled and had downed a cold beer with indecent haste. Fortunately for his sanity, carbohydrates and alcohol soon put a different complexion on life. Becker leaned contentedly on Ryan’s shoulder drinking more beer from the bottle and listening to quiet snuffling on the pup monitor.
“Still contemplating puppycide?” Ryan said as he reached out and pulled a photo album off the shelf next to the fireplace.
“Depends on how much grovelling I have to do next time I see any of the neighbours.”
Ryan opened the album at random and Becker found himself looking at a picture of the three pups, aged no more than a month old, on their first trip into the countryside. They were piled in a heap on green summer grass, surrounded by flowers. Alex was at the bottom of the pile, his fur paler than it was now, with Kay’s brown head resting on top of his. Marcus was sprawled out on top of the pair of them, a quizzical expression on his small face, one paw treading on Alex and the other around his sister’s back.
Becker’s heart melted at the sight of his two youngest staring straight at the camera while his eldest chewed something he’d found in the grass. He turned to Ryan, a lump in his throat and tears in his eyes. “Christ, were they ever that small?”
Ryan nodded, covering Becker’s lips in a gentle kiss that spoke of love, warmth and everything good in life, and Becker knew that there was nothing more he wanted than to spend the rest of his life with the mate he loved and their children.
No matter how many mugs of coffee the little sods caused him to decant onto the grass.
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no subject
Date: 2014-11-24 06:23 pm (UTC)So f*ck the neighbours! *g*
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Date: 2014-11-25 12:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-11-24 08:14 pm (UTC)Marcus nipping at Liam is probably my fave bit, hahaha! *diesofcute*
This is a truly lovely fic. Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2014-11-25 12:25 pm (UTC)Glad you enjoyed it!
no subject
Date: 2014-11-24 08:23 pm (UTC)Marcus would definitely have been trying to bite Liam's bum. The little puppy tart! :D
I want fish, chips and mushy peas! In fact, I want a lot of food! I'm hungry!
Poor Lucie. I bet she was loving that pig's ear till it was taken away from her. I feel the pups are going to lead her astray given half a chance. Actually, I feel quite sorry for her, she can probably hear all the fun going on and she's left out. WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!
Great fic! :D
no subject
Date: 2014-11-25 12:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-11-24 10:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-11-25 12:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-11-25 04:16 am (UTC)"He looked out of the window in time to see Ryan deftly fielding Alex as their eldest managed to hurtle over the protective netting in the direction of the shrubbery, howling in delight. Becker grabbed the notepad on the desk and scrawled: buy higher netting!!!" I laughed out loud on that line and just read it again and again. I have a picture in my mind of Ryan catching Alex like a football. Wonderful stuff. Fifi is a very lucky girl.
no subject
Date: 2014-11-25 12:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-11-25 09:55 am (UTC)Aww, puppies!
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Date: 2014-11-25 12:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-11-26 09:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-12-08 10:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-11-26 10:03 pm (UTC)I loved the fic so much. I think favourite bits were the snooty next-door neighbours, and Flo cursing like a docker!
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Date: 2014-12-08 10:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-12-06 08:38 am (UTC)LOL for the squeals having the same effect as bullets through the ears - that's soooo true!
They really are having a hard time with babysitting, aren't they?
I do adore the running joke about Flo's potty mouth - she really does take after her father!
Edit: and the Friends of Cruella de Vil!!! I almost choked!
no subject
Date: 2014-12-08 10:58 pm (UTC)