fredbassett (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fredbassett) wrote2016-05-05 07:46 pm
fredbassett) wrote2016-05-05 07:46 pm
Fic, In the Mire, Lyle, Blade, Finn, Becker, Puppies
Title : In the Mire
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 15
Characters : Lyle, Blade, Finn, Becker, Alex, Marcus and Kay
Disclaimer : Not mine (except Lyle, Finn and Blade), no money made, don’t sue. The pups belong to fifi!
Spoilers : None
Summary :
A/N : 1) Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lukadreaming who has been a brave little soldier and tackled a mountain of work. This was promised as a reward! 2) More pup!verse. Sorry clea2011!
“We’re in deep shit,” Finn said in tones of dark foreboding. “The captains are going to hang us up by our bollocks over an open fire.”
“We’re not the only ones in the mire!” Lyle declared as cheerfully as he could manage, whilst privately acknowledging that Finn was almost certainly right. “Blade, it’s your turn to go in after ‘em.”
“Fuck off.”
“Don’t you mean ‘fuck off, sir’?”
The look he got from a pair of ice cool green eyes told him exactly what Blade meant. Lyle turned to Finn, stuck a hand in his pocket and brought out a coin. “Toss you for it.”
“Not if you’re using your double-headed penny,” Finn declared, looking uncharacteristically mutinous.
Lyle had to reluctantly admit that the boy had more commonsense that he was usually given credit for.
“Try calling them,” Blade suggested, leaning back against a tree and starting to pick the dirt out from under his fingernails with a knife that could have de-bollocked a bull elephant with no apparent difficulty.
“Come on, kids! Time to go home and get cleaned up!”
A volley of excited barking was all the answer he got in return. It was a swelteringly hot day and Alex, Marcus and Kay taken it into their heads that they wanted to go swimming. Unfortunately, the area of the pond reserved for watersports currently bore an uncanny resemblance to a rapidly-drying watering hole on the African savannah. That is if savannah watering holes came complete with a thick layer of bright green duckweed. The mess of mud and slime looked and smelled like a warthog with diarrhoea had recently passed through the neighbourhood, but that hadn’t acted as a deterrent to the puppies.
“Nice try, boss,” Finn said, grinning.
Lyle sighed. “Why does no one respect my authority?”
Finn whistled innocently and Blade continued to pick at his nails.
Lyle decided to try a different tactic. “Finn, grab, Kay. I’ll get Alex; Blade, that leaves you with Marcus.”
Finn stared hard at the three pups. “Er, boss, they all look the same at the moment.”
“Then just grab one of the little sods!”
An elderly woman walking past carrying a bag of bread to feed to the ducks frowned at him and exclaimed, “Language, young man! Not in front of the children!”
“You haven’t heard their friend Flo!” Finn said, earning him a basilisk glare as well.
“There is never an excuse for bad language!”
Finn looked like he was about to debate that point until Lyle forestalled him and turned his best winning look onto their adversary. “Of course not, ma’am. I do apologise.”
Looking anything but won over, the woman, marched on, shooting them all a dirty look that wouldn’t have been out of place on the face of Lyle’s old sergeant major, a man with the shortest fuse in the entire history of short fuses and a repertoire of dirty look that could have been hung in the National Portrait Gallery.
The pups, who’d paused for a moment amidst the serious business of getting as filthy as possible, promptly threw themselves back into their game with renewed vigour.
“Nothing for it, boss,” Finn said glumly, bending down to pull off his boots and socks and unzip the legs of his trousers.
Lyle immediately started to regret putting jeans on that morning and wondered if he could get away with staying on the bank.
Finn waded into the pond, grimacing as the mud oozed between his toes.
“No point in both of us getting filthy,” Lyle pointed out. “I’ll buy you a beer later, mate.”
“OK, kids, come to Uncle Rob….”
Something small and hairy that once might have resembled a puppy shot between Finn’s legs and nearly dumped him on his arse but for all his occasionally hapless behaviour, the young soldier had lightning fast reactions, as befitted the best sniper in the Regiment.
“Gotcha!” He held a wriggling, yipping puppy in his arms and managed to get it back to the bank while holding the offending article as far away from his clean teeshirt as possible.
Lyle reached out and took the pup from him. The bundle of mud promptly squirmed like an eel in his arms, planted a very muddy kiss on his cheek, and shot back into the pond like a slime-covered torpedo, kicking him in the chest as it went.
“Boss!”
“Sorry, mate. Make that two beers….”
The catch proved to have been a fluke. The pups had thrown themselves into the new game with gusto and there was now no stopping them. In a matter of minutes, Lyle felt and looked like he’d been three times around Hereford’s notorious assault course including the bit where you had to wallow face-down under coils of razor wire through a noxious trench filled with mud and shit, in full kit, carrying a Bergen loaded with bricks.
Finn was no better off; Blade simply continued to lounge against a tree, steadfastly ignoring all pleas and threats thrown in his direction.
Lyle scraped the mud off his watch and realised with horror that they had no more than two hours left before Becker finished his shift and arrived home. Things weren’t looking too good. They’d run the entire gamut of threats, bribery and out-and-out pleading, but the trio of furry miscreants hadn’t taken a blind bit of notice, probably because of the fact that despite the mess they were in, it was hard not to find the whole thing funny, and he and Finn has ended up laughing almost as hard as their as the filthy little bundles of fur they’d been pursuing. The pups were covered from nose to tail in mud and duckweed, but were clearly having a whale of a time.
“We need to talk tactics,” Lyle panted.
“We need to talk disembowelment,” Finn muttered. “I could do with some furry wrist-warmers….”
“Shame on you,” Blade said, sauntering over to the edge of the large pond. He put two fingers in his mouth and let out a piercing whistle.
The puppies promptly made a mad scramble for the bank. Once on dry land, they shook themselves, sending mud and duckweed in all directions. That done, they plonked themselves on the path in front of Blade, tails still wagging ten to the dozen.
“Why the fucking hell didn’t you do that to start with?” Lyle demanded.
One of the pups, he thought it might have been Kay, let out a mock-disapproving bark.
“’cause it wouldn’t have been anywhere near as funny.” Blade went down on one knee to clip leads onto what had once been clean red harnesses.
Leaving Lyle and Finn staring after them, open-mouthed, Blade walked off with the pups trotting obediently alongside him.
The only consolation Lyle was left with was that it was Blade’s car they’d come in.
*****
“Back garden, now!” Blade ordered.
The pups dashed around the side of the house, barking in unison, their high spirits not damped in the slightest by the mud already drying on their fur.
The car stank of pond slime and duckweed, and so did Lyle and Finn. Blade had somehow managed to remain clean, so he was dispatched into the house to fetch shampoo, while Lyle hooked up the garden hose. There was no way any of them were going anywhere near the bathroom in this state, so they’d just have to make do with the paddling pool.
Operation Pup Clean rapidly descended into chaos in the foot deep foam produced by Finn accidentally dumping an entire bottle of shampoo into the large plastic pool. The only consolation was that they could now tell the pups. Lyle soon gave up any attempt at staying dry and he couldn’t deny the fact that the sight of Kay and Alex chasing bubbles while Marcus went round and round in circles after his own tail was actually quite amusing. Mud and duckweed eventually lost the battle and three squeaky clean puppies emerged from the paddling pool and were dispatched to run in circles around the garden to dry off.
A jet of water hit Lyle in the middle of his back and he let rip with a curse that would have earned him points for inventiveness from Joel Stringer and his potty-mouthed daughter, as well as a stern telling off from the woman feeding the ducks at the pond.
“You didn’t hear that, kids,” Blade remarked, continuing to hose the mud off Lyle, before doing the same with Finn.
Knowing superior force when it stared at them down the barrel of a hosepipe, the pair of them just stood there, as obedient as the pups, allowing themselves to be bombarded with water. Although Lyle had no intention of admitting it, the cold water was actually quite pleasant in the heat of the afternoon. The only minor problem was that neither of them had a change of clothes in the car, but Lyle was hopeful they’d soon dry out in the sunshine.
Half an hour later, three sets of very clean ears perked up at the sound of a car pulling onto the driveway at the front of the house. The pups had all been drilled from infancy not to go anywhere near a moving car, so all three simply sat down, eyes fixed on the side gate, tails wagging and pink tongues lolling out of the mouths as they alternated between panting and yipping in excitement.
Becker walked into the garden a few moments later, casually dressed in a black teeshirt and faded cargo pants, his kit bag slung over his shoulders. He promptly dropped the bag and went down on his knees, letting the pups clamber all over him as he hugged them and buried his face in their fur. From the slightly haunted look on his face as he’d rounded the corner, before the soldier rapidly took second place to the father in Becker, it looked like today hadn’t been all sweetness and light, but Lyle knew that three enthusiastic bundles of sweet-smelling fur would soon drive any demons away. All the anomaly response teams had quickly learned that happiness was indeed a warm puppy and, without them knowing it, Alex, Marcus and Kay had often been pressed into service as therapy pups.
When Becker was able to stand up again, he glanced rather suspiciously at his three children and their afternoon minders. Even though the paddling pool had been thoroughly washed and refilled with clean water, the hose had been put away and their clothes would almost pass for dry, Becker had both a parent’s and an officer’s nose for trouble. He also had a rather acute sense of smell.
“Eau de slime, with an overtone of duckweed,” he pronounced. “You made the mistake of taking them to the park, didn’t you?”
The volley of barking that greeted that statement promptly blew their cover into the middle of next week.
Lyle groaned. “You didn’t think to warn us?”
Becker’s grin provided all the answer he needed.
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 15
Characters : Lyle, Blade, Finn, Becker, Alex, Marcus and Kay
Disclaimer : Not mine (except Lyle, Finn and Blade), no money made, don’t sue. The pups belong to fifi!
Spoilers : None
Summary :
A/N : 1) Written for
lukadreaming who has been a brave little soldier and tackled a mountain of work. This was promised as a reward! 2) More pup!verse. Sorry clea2011!“We’re in deep shit,” Finn said in tones of dark foreboding. “The captains are going to hang us up by our bollocks over an open fire.”
“We’re not the only ones in the mire!” Lyle declared as cheerfully as he could manage, whilst privately acknowledging that Finn was almost certainly right. “Blade, it’s your turn to go in after ‘em.”
“Fuck off.”
“Don’t you mean ‘fuck off, sir’?”
The look he got from a pair of ice cool green eyes told him exactly what Blade meant. Lyle turned to Finn, stuck a hand in his pocket and brought out a coin. “Toss you for it.”
“Not if you’re using your double-headed penny,” Finn declared, looking uncharacteristically mutinous.
Lyle had to reluctantly admit that the boy had more commonsense that he was usually given credit for.
“Try calling them,” Blade suggested, leaning back against a tree and starting to pick the dirt out from under his fingernails with a knife that could have de-bollocked a bull elephant with no apparent difficulty.
“Come on, kids! Time to go home and get cleaned up!”
A volley of excited barking was all the answer he got in return. It was a swelteringly hot day and Alex, Marcus and Kay taken it into their heads that they wanted to go swimming. Unfortunately, the area of the pond reserved for watersports currently bore an uncanny resemblance to a rapidly-drying watering hole on the African savannah. That is if savannah watering holes came complete with a thick layer of bright green duckweed. The mess of mud and slime looked and smelled like a warthog with diarrhoea had recently passed through the neighbourhood, but that hadn’t acted as a deterrent to the puppies.
“Nice try, boss,” Finn said, grinning.
Lyle sighed. “Why does no one respect my authority?”
Finn whistled innocently and Blade continued to pick at his nails.
Lyle decided to try a different tactic. “Finn, grab, Kay. I’ll get Alex; Blade, that leaves you with Marcus.”
Finn stared hard at the three pups. “Er, boss, they all look the same at the moment.”
“Then just grab one of the little sods!”
An elderly woman walking past carrying a bag of bread to feed to the ducks frowned at him and exclaimed, “Language, young man! Not in front of the children!”
“You haven’t heard their friend Flo!” Finn said, earning him a basilisk glare as well.
“There is never an excuse for bad language!”
Finn looked like he was about to debate that point until Lyle forestalled him and turned his best winning look onto their adversary. “Of course not, ma’am. I do apologise.”
Looking anything but won over, the woman, marched on, shooting them all a dirty look that wouldn’t have been out of place on the face of Lyle’s old sergeant major, a man with the shortest fuse in the entire history of short fuses and a repertoire of dirty look that could have been hung in the National Portrait Gallery.
The pups, who’d paused for a moment amidst the serious business of getting as filthy as possible, promptly threw themselves back into their game with renewed vigour.
“Nothing for it, boss,” Finn said glumly, bending down to pull off his boots and socks and unzip the legs of his trousers.
Lyle immediately started to regret putting jeans on that morning and wondered if he could get away with staying on the bank.
Finn waded into the pond, grimacing as the mud oozed between his toes.
“No point in both of us getting filthy,” Lyle pointed out. “I’ll buy you a beer later, mate.”
“OK, kids, come to Uncle Rob….”
Something small and hairy that once might have resembled a puppy shot between Finn’s legs and nearly dumped him on his arse but for all his occasionally hapless behaviour, the young soldier had lightning fast reactions, as befitted the best sniper in the Regiment.
“Gotcha!” He held a wriggling, yipping puppy in his arms and managed to get it back to the bank while holding the offending article as far away from his clean teeshirt as possible.
Lyle reached out and took the pup from him. The bundle of mud promptly squirmed like an eel in his arms, planted a very muddy kiss on his cheek, and shot back into the pond like a slime-covered torpedo, kicking him in the chest as it went.
“Boss!”
“Sorry, mate. Make that two beers….”
The catch proved to have been a fluke. The pups had thrown themselves into the new game with gusto and there was now no stopping them. In a matter of minutes, Lyle felt and looked like he’d been three times around Hereford’s notorious assault course including the bit where you had to wallow face-down under coils of razor wire through a noxious trench filled with mud and shit, in full kit, carrying a Bergen loaded with bricks.
Finn was no better off; Blade simply continued to lounge against a tree, steadfastly ignoring all pleas and threats thrown in his direction.
Lyle scraped the mud off his watch and realised with horror that they had no more than two hours left before Becker finished his shift and arrived home. Things weren’t looking too good. They’d run the entire gamut of threats, bribery and out-and-out pleading, but the trio of furry miscreants hadn’t taken a blind bit of notice, probably because of the fact that despite the mess they were in, it was hard not to find the whole thing funny, and he and Finn has ended up laughing almost as hard as their as the filthy little bundles of fur they’d been pursuing. The pups were covered from nose to tail in mud and duckweed, but were clearly having a whale of a time.
“We need to talk tactics,” Lyle panted.
“We need to talk disembowelment,” Finn muttered. “I could do with some furry wrist-warmers….”
“Shame on you,” Blade said, sauntering over to the edge of the large pond. He put two fingers in his mouth and let out a piercing whistle.
The puppies promptly made a mad scramble for the bank. Once on dry land, they shook themselves, sending mud and duckweed in all directions. That done, they plonked themselves on the path in front of Blade, tails still wagging ten to the dozen.
“Why the fucking hell didn’t you do that to start with?” Lyle demanded.
One of the pups, he thought it might have been Kay, let out a mock-disapproving bark.
“’cause it wouldn’t have been anywhere near as funny.” Blade went down on one knee to clip leads onto what had once been clean red harnesses.
Leaving Lyle and Finn staring after them, open-mouthed, Blade walked off with the pups trotting obediently alongside him.
The only consolation Lyle was left with was that it was Blade’s car they’d come in.
*****
“Back garden, now!” Blade ordered.
The pups dashed around the side of the house, barking in unison, their high spirits not damped in the slightest by the mud already drying on their fur.
The car stank of pond slime and duckweed, and so did Lyle and Finn. Blade had somehow managed to remain clean, so he was dispatched into the house to fetch shampoo, while Lyle hooked up the garden hose. There was no way any of them were going anywhere near the bathroom in this state, so they’d just have to make do with the paddling pool.
Operation Pup Clean rapidly descended into chaos in the foot deep foam produced by Finn accidentally dumping an entire bottle of shampoo into the large plastic pool. The only consolation was that they could now tell the pups. Lyle soon gave up any attempt at staying dry and he couldn’t deny the fact that the sight of Kay and Alex chasing bubbles while Marcus went round and round in circles after his own tail was actually quite amusing. Mud and duckweed eventually lost the battle and three squeaky clean puppies emerged from the paddling pool and were dispatched to run in circles around the garden to dry off.
A jet of water hit Lyle in the middle of his back and he let rip with a curse that would have earned him points for inventiveness from Joel Stringer and his potty-mouthed daughter, as well as a stern telling off from the woman feeding the ducks at the pond.
“You didn’t hear that, kids,” Blade remarked, continuing to hose the mud off Lyle, before doing the same with Finn.
Knowing superior force when it stared at them down the barrel of a hosepipe, the pair of them just stood there, as obedient as the pups, allowing themselves to be bombarded with water. Although Lyle had no intention of admitting it, the cold water was actually quite pleasant in the heat of the afternoon. The only minor problem was that neither of them had a change of clothes in the car, but Lyle was hopeful they’d soon dry out in the sunshine.
Half an hour later, three sets of very clean ears perked up at the sound of a car pulling onto the driveway at the front of the house. The pups had all been drilled from infancy not to go anywhere near a moving car, so all three simply sat down, eyes fixed on the side gate, tails wagging and pink tongues lolling out of the mouths as they alternated between panting and yipping in excitement.
Becker walked into the garden a few moments later, casually dressed in a black teeshirt and faded cargo pants, his kit bag slung over his shoulders. He promptly dropped the bag and went down on his knees, letting the pups clamber all over him as he hugged them and buried his face in their fur. From the slightly haunted look on his face as he’d rounded the corner, before the soldier rapidly took second place to the father in Becker, it looked like today hadn’t been all sweetness and light, but Lyle knew that three enthusiastic bundles of sweet-smelling fur would soon drive any demons away. All the anomaly response teams had quickly learned that happiness was indeed a warm puppy and, without them knowing it, Alex, Marcus and Kay had often been pressed into service as therapy pups.
When Becker was able to stand up again, he glanced rather suspiciously at his three children and their afternoon minders. Even though the paddling pool had been thoroughly washed and refilled with clean water, the hose had been put away and their clothes would almost pass for dry, Becker had both a parent’s and an officer’s nose for trouble. He also had a rather acute sense of smell.
“Eau de slime, with an overtone of duckweed,” he pronounced. “You made the mistake of taking them to the park, didn’t you?”
The volley of barking that greeted that statement promptly blew their cover into the middle of next week.
Lyle groaned. “You didn’t think to warn us?”
Becker’s grin provided all the answer he needed.