fredbassett (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fredbassett) wrote2019-01-20 11:39 am
fredbassett) wrote2019-01-20 11:39 am
Entry tags:
Fic, Of Pups and Prejudice, Becker/Ryan, puppies, 12
Title : Of Pups and Prejudice
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 12
Characters : Becker/Ryan, Allan, The Colonel, Mrs Newell, Alex, Marcus and Kay
Disclaimer : Not mine (the pups belong to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fififolle), no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : None
Summary : Parents' afternoon at the nursery takes a surprising turn.
A/N : Written for the very lovelylukadreaming’s birthday for this photo that she sent me earlier in the week to cheer me up when I was feeling a bit crappy. I hope you think I’ve put it to good use!
“Parents’ afternoon at the nursery?” Ryan said, staring in horror at the envelope he’d just opened. “Standing around and making polite conversation with a load of people we don’t know?”
“And some we do know,” Becker said, trying to put a positive spin on things.
“And plenty we don’t like.”
So much for the positive spin.
“Oh fuck…” Ryan’s face had just gone a rather nasty shade of puce. He handed the invite to Becker. “Read the bit at the bottom.”
Becker looked quickly down through the flim-flam of the invite to the bit at the bottom. Grandparents are most welcome to attend, as we all know what an important role they play in the lives of all puppies.
“Dad’ll be pleased,” Becker said, not quite understanding what Ryan’s problem was, as he knew how much they relied on Allan to help with pupcare.
“What if the Colonel decides to go with him?”
Becker’s eyebrows shot up. “There’s no way she’d do anything so domestic.”
“What about her threat to get more involved with the kids now it’s clear ‘even the runt of the litter is going to survive infancy’?” Ryan did a passable impersonation of the Colonel’s cruel comments about Kay, and a shiver ran down Becker’s back at the words, remembering how close they had come to losing Kay, their adored daughter, born last and the weakest of the litter. Triplets were rare, and it was even rarer for all three to survive.
“There’s no way she’ll come to this,” Becker said, sounding an awful lot more certain than he felt.”
****
“Your mother says she’ll be delighted to come, Hilary. She’s even cancelled her bridge afternoon. We’ll meet you there at two o’clock.”
Becker bit back his groan until the call had ended. He loved his father and wouldn’t do anything to hurt him. They owed him big time for everything he did for the pups. They were just going to have to take this on the chin.
Ryan took the announcement reasonably phlegmatically. “Worse things happen at sea.”
“Do they?”
“The Titanic…?”
“There were some survivors. That’s never guaranteed where my mother is concerned.”
Ryan pulled him into a warm hug. “It’ll be fine. Mrs Newall won’t stand any nonsense from her.”
Two hours later, they were walking up to the Colonel and Allen in the car park at the nursery. They exactly on time, but they were by no means the first there.
Becker did his best to plaster a smile on his face. “Mother, Dad, thanks for coming, we really appreciate it.”
“Allan, Colonel,” Ryan said, shaking hands with them both.
The Colonel stared around with her usual air of haughty disdain, which didn’t bode too well, but Becker had to remind himself that was just his mother’s normal expression.
Sally, Mrs Newall’s assistant, was welcoming everyone at the door, and ushering them all through into the house. The first people Becker saw were Jane and Greg Houghton, the parents of Marcus’ partner in Crime, Liam. Jane was an IT consultant and Greg did something very boring in banking. The pair of them were stinking rich, but pretty down to earth, and Becker and Ryan had always got on with them.
Becker introduced them to his parents, hoping they’d pass muster with the Colonel. Luckily, they seemed to hit it off reasonably well, and Becker started to relax slightly. Ryan fell into conversation with Sharon, the omega parent of Kay’s friend Olivia, and gradually the various parents and grandparents started the awkward business of making conversation with relative strangers, while Mrs Newall and her various assistants circulated amongst the guests in preparation for a short talk on the nursery followed by tea and cakes.
Just as Mrs Newall was about to start speaking, a very large alpha woman with an extremely cowed omega in tow swept into the room like a galleon in full sail, wearing quite the most alarming fake fur coat Becker had ever seen – at least he fervently hoped it was fake! It was like being in the presence of a grizzly bear wearing high heels and lipstick.
“Lady Fanshaw,” Sally announced breathlessly from the doorway, looking flustered.
“I think we’ll find that’s spelt Featherstonehaugh,” Allan muttered.
“More like spelt see you next Tuesday,” Ryan said under his breath.
Becker choked back a laugh. It was obvious that his mother had heard Ryan’s not very subtle reply but as ever, her face gave nothing away, reminding him why it was never wise to play cards with his mother.
No one bothered to introduce the harassed-looking male omega.
“Grandmother of Felicia and Tristram,” Lady Fanshaw said loudly.
“No surprises there,” Sharon said quietly. “I’ve never met two more spoilt pups.”
The name Tristram rang a bell with Becker. He had a nasty feeling that was the pup Alex had got into a tussle with a couple of weeks ago. They’d never really got to the bottom of what had set it off, and Mrs Newall had put it down to ‘just pups being pups’, so they hadn’t enquired too closely, but Becker had gained the distinct impression from Marcus that some bullying had been going on, and Alex hadn’t liked it. Their elder pup had a protective streak a mile wide and any hint of bullying was a red rag to a bull where their gold-furred offspring was concerned.
Mrs Newall’s speech was relatively short and sweet. She talked about the expansion plans for the nursery, with the building of a small dormitory wing where pups would be able to make overnight stays occasionally, as a service to working parents. Becker and Ryan exchanged approving glances at that news. It wasn’t something they expected to have to take advantage of regularly, but there had certainly been occasions in the last 18 months where boarding facilities would have come in very useful.
The nursery was doing well, by the sound of it, and Becker was glad they’d picked Mrs Newell’s place. The pups had thrived there, and she’d always been very understanding about the difficulties faced by both parents serving in the military at the same time. The obligatory tour of the building came next and then when everyone had equipped themselves with tea and cake, there was time for any questions.
“I hope suitable emphasis is being placed on good manners,” Lady Fanshaw declared, shooting a not-so-subtle look in the direction of Becker and Ryan.
“Absolutely,” Mrs Newall said. “Why don’t we all go through to the playroom and you can meet the pups?”
The first pup they saw was Alex, sitting just inside the playroom door, wagging his tail and wearing the sort of shit-eating grin that Becker had long since learned to distrust in his eldest.
A moment later, Becker saw why. In the middle of the floor, a heap of puppies – mainly black, but Becker could instantly make out his daughter’s chocolate-coloured fur in the middle – lay sprawled everywhere, partially piled on top of each other, all looking very relaxed and comfortable.
Liam was lying half in, half out of a basket on one side of a multi-coloured rug, while next to him, Marcus lay on his back, all four paws in the air. Becker’s heart promptly melted at the sight of his son.
Lady Fanshaw let out a strangled harrumph that sounded like someone had grabbed an orang-utan by the balls and given them a friendly squeeze. “Modesty tail, young man!” she bellowed. “Modesty tail!”
Marcus blinked up at her in confusion, looking slightly scared by the grizzly bear in lipstick that was yelling at him.
At his side, Becker could feel Ryan about to say something uncomplimentary to the woman when help rode in from an unexpected quarter.
“Nonsense, woman!” declared the Colonel, in a parade ground voice that had been honed for years on cowering junior ranks. “They’re puppies! They shouldn’t even have a concept of modesty tails. Stay where you are, Marcus!” She ordered, then turned to Lady Fanshaw. “And I’ll thank you not to shout at my grandson, Violet Fanshaw. While we’re on the subject of manner, you could do to teach some to your grandson. Darling Tristram needs to learn that bullying is never acceptable!”
Becker met Ryan’s eyes and shrugged helplessly. He had no idea how the Colonel knew what had happened, let alone have any information on Tristram’s less than savoury habits, but then he’d always felt his mother’s information systems would have put to shame those of the IRA in their heyday.
His suspicions were confirmed a moment later when Alex sauntered over and plonked himself down at his grandmother’s feet.
Marcus, still on his back, started to wag his tail madly in an extremely immodest manner. His sister extricated herself out of the middle of the puppy pile and joined Alex at the Colonel’s feet, looking up at her formidable alpha grandmother out of large, liquid brown eyes.
The Colonel bent down and patted both Kay and Alex on the head and nodded to Marcus, saying, “As you were, young man. Modesty tails are not something you need to concern yourself with.”
Marcus followed the instruction with alacrity and went back to wagging his tail with total abandon.
His mother met Becker’s eyes. “Honestly, Hilary, don’t look so surprised. I did go through Sandhurst, you know.” Turning to Mrs Newall, she added, “Now, is there anything a little more appetising than tea to be found around here? Allan’s driving, and I do believe it’s fast approaching gin o’clock.” She beamed at the assembled puppies. “As you were, children, as you were!”
With that, the Colonel swept out of the room accompanied by a cacophony of delighted yips.
Becker watched her go, not quite sure what had just happened, but he knew they were going to be dining out on this story for some while to come. And for the first time since he’d given birth, Becker felt that maybe – just maybe – his family wasn’t quite such a disappointment to his alpha mother as he’d previously believed.
“I’ll drive back,” Ryan muttered to him. “I think the Colonel’s not the only one who needs a large gin…”
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 12
Characters : Becker/Ryan, Allan, The Colonel, Mrs Newell, Alex, Marcus and Kay
Disclaimer : Not mine (the pups belong to
fififolle), no money made, don’t sue.Spoilers : None
Summary : Parents' afternoon at the nursery takes a surprising turn.
A/N : Written for the very lovely
lukadreaming’s birthday for this photo that she sent me earlier in the week to cheer me up when I was feeling a bit crappy. I hope you think I’ve put it to good use!“Parents’ afternoon at the nursery?” Ryan said, staring in horror at the envelope he’d just opened. “Standing around and making polite conversation with a load of people we don’t know?”
“And some we do know,” Becker said, trying to put a positive spin on things.
“And plenty we don’t like.”
So much for the positive spin.
“Oh fuck…” Ryan’s face had just gone a rather nasty shade of puce. He handed the invite to Becker. “Read the bit at the bottom.”
Becker looked quickly down through the flim-flam of the invite to the bit at the bottom. Grandparents are most welcome to attend, as we all know what an important role they play in the lives of all puppies.
“Dad’ll be pleased,” Becker said, not quite understanding what Ryan’s problem was, as he knew how much they relied on Allan to help with pupcare.
“What if the Colonel decides to go with him?”
Becker’s eyebrows shot up. “There’s no way she’d do anything so domestic.”
“What about her threat to get more involved with the kids now it’s clear ‘even the runt of the litter is going to survive infancy’?” Ryan did a passable impersonation of the Colonel’s cruel comments about Kay, and a shiver ran down Becker’s back at the words, remembering how close they had come to losing Kay, their adored daughter, born last and the weakest of the litter. Triplets were rare, and it was even rarer for all three to survive.
“There’s no way she’ll come to this,” Becker said, sounding an awful lot more certain than he felt.”
****
“Your mother says she’ll be delighted to come, Hilary. She’s even cancelled her bridge afternoon. We’ll meet you there at two o’clock.”
Becker bit back his groan until the call had ended. He loved his father and wouldn’t do anything to hurt him. They owed him big time for everything he did for the pups. They were just going to have to take this on the chin.
Ryan took the announcement reasonably phlegmatically. “Worse things happen at sea.”
“Do they?”
“The Titanic…?”
“There were some survivors. That’s never guaranteed where my mother is concerned.”
Ryan pulled him into a warm hug. “It’ll be fine. Mrs Newall won’t stand any nonsense from her.”
Two hours later, they were walking up to the Colonel and Allen in the car park at the nursery. They exactly on time, but they were by no means the first there.
Becker did his best to plaster a smile on his face. “Mother, Dad, thanks for coming, we really appreciate it.”
“Allan, Colonel,” Ryan said, shaking hands with them both.
The Colonel stared around with her usual air of haughty disdain, which didn’t bode too well, but Becker had to remind himself that was just his mother’s normal expression.
Sally, Mrs Newall’s assistant, was welcoming everyone at the door, and ushering them all through into the house. The first people Becker saw were Jane and Greg Houghton, the parents of Marcus’ partner in Crime, Liam. Jane was an IT consultant and Greg did something very boring in banking. The pair of them were stinking rich, but pretty down to earth, and Becker and Ryan had always got on with them.
Becker introduced them to his parents, hoping they’d pass muster with the Colonel. Luckily, they seemed to hit it off reasonably well, and Becker started to relax slightly. Ryan fell into conversation with Sharon, the omega parent of Kay’s friend Olivia, and gradually the various parents and grandparents started the awkward business of making conversation with relative strangers, while Mrs Newall and her various assistants circulated amongst the guests in preparation for a short talk on the nursery followed by tea and cakes.
Just as Mrs Newall was about to start speaking, a very large alpha woman with an extremely cowed omega in tow swept into the room like a galleon in full sail, wearing quite the most alarming fake fur coat Becker had ever seen – at least he fervently hoped it was fake! It was like being in the presence of a grizzly bear wearing high heels and lipstick.
“Lady Fanshaw,” Sally announced breathlessly from the doorway, looking flustered.
“I think we’ll find that’s spelt Featherstonehaugh,” Allan muttered.
“More like spelt see you next Tuesday,” Ryan said under his breath.
Becker choked back a laugh. It was obvious that his mother had heard Ryan’s not very subtle reply but as ever, her face gave nothing away, reminding him why it was never wise to play cards with his mother.
No one bothered to introduce the harassed-looking male omega.
“Grandmother of Felicia and Tristram,” Lady Fanshaw said loudly.
“No surprises there,” Sharon said quietly. “I’ve never met two more spoilt pups.”
The name Tristram rang a bell with Becker. He had a nasty feeling that was the pup Alex had got into a tussle with a couple of weeks ago. They’d never really got to the bottom of what had set it off, and Mrs Newall had put it down to ‘just pups being pups’, so they hadn’t enquired too closely, but Becker had gained the distinct impression from Marcus that some bullying had been going on, and Alex hadn’t liked it. Their elder pup had a protective streak a mile wide and any hint of bullying was a red rag to a bull where their gold-furred offspring was concerned.
Mrs Newall’s speech was relatively short and sweet. She talked about the expansion plans for the nursery, with the building of a small dormitory wing where pups would be able to make overnight stays occasionally, as a service to working parents. Becker and Ryan exchanged approving glances at that news. It wasn’t something they expected to have to take advantage of regularly, but there had certainly been occasions in the last 18 months where boarding facilities would have come in very useful.
The nursery was doing well, by the sound of it, and Becker was glad they’d picked Mrs Newell’s place. The pups had thrived there, and she’d always been very understanding about the difficulties faced by both parents serving in the military at the same time. The obligatory tour of the building came next and then when everyone had equipped themselves with tea and cake, there was time for any questions.
“I hope suitable emphasis is being placed on good manners,” Lady Fanshaw declared, shooting a not-so-subtle look in the direction of Becker and Ryan.
“Absolutely,” Mrs Newall said. “Why don’t we all go through to the playroom and you can meet the pups?”
The first pup they saw was Alex, sitting just inside the playroom door, wagging his tail and wearing the sort of shit-eating grin that Becker had long since learned to distrust in his eldest.
A moment later, Becker saw why. In the middle of the floor, a heap of puppies – mainly black, but Becker could instantly make out his daughter’s chocolate-coloured fur in the middle – lay sprawled everywhere, partially piled on top of each other, all looking very relaxed and comfortable.
Liam was lying half in, half out of a basket on one side of a multi-coloured rug, while next to him, Marcus lay on his back, all four paws in the air. Becker’s heart promptly melted at the sight of his son.
Lady Fanshaw let out a strangled harrumph that sounded like someone had grabbed an orang-utan by the balls and given them a friendly squeeze. “Modesty tail, young man!” she bellowed. “Modesty tail!”
Marcus blinked up at her in confusion, looking slightly scared by the grizzly bear in lipstick that was yelling at him.
At his side, Becker could feel Ryan about to say something uncomplimentary to the woman when help rode in from an unexpected quarter.
“Nonsense, woman!” declared the Colonel, in a parade ground voice that had been honed for years on cowering junior ranks. “They’re puppies! They shouldn’t even have a concept of modesty tails. Stay where you are, Marcus!” She ordered, then turned to Lady Fanshaw. “And I’ll thank you not to shout at my grandson, Violet Fanshaw. While we’re on the subject of manner, you could do to teach some to your grandson. Darling Tristram needs to learn that bullying is never acceptable!”
Becker met Ryan’s eyes and shrugged helplessly. He had no idea how the Colonel knew what had happened, let alone have any information on Tristram’s less than savoury habits, but then he’d always felt his mother’s information systems would have put to shame those of the IRA in their heyday.
His suspicions were confirmed a moment later when Alex sauntered over and plonked himself down at his grandmother’s feet.
Marcus, still on his back, started to wag his tail madly in an extremely immodest manner. His sister extricated herself out of the middle of the puppy pile and joined Alex at the Colonel’s feet, looking up at her formidable alpha grandmother out of large, liquid brown eyes.
The Colonel bent down and patted both Kay and Alex on the head and nodded to Marcus, saying, “As you were, young man. Modesty tails are not something you need to concern yourself with.”
Marcus followed the instruction with alacrity and went back to wagging his tail with total abandon.
His mother met Becker’s eyes. “Honestly, Hilary, don’t look so surprised. I did go through Sandhurst, you know.” Turning to Mrs Newall, she added, “Now, is there anything a little more appetising than tea to be found around here? Allan’s driving, and I do believe it’s fast approaching gin o’clock.” She beamed at the assembled puppies. “As you were, children, as you were!”
With that, the Colonel swept out of the room accompanied by a cacophony of delighted yips.
Becker watched her go, not quite sure what had just happened, but he knew they were going to be dining out on this story for some while to come. And for the first time since he’d given birth, Becker felt that maybe – just maybe – his family wasn’t quite such a disappointment to his alpha mother as he’d previously believed.
“I’ll drive back,” Ryan muttered to him. “I think the Colonel’s not the only one who needs a large gin…”
no subject
"Modesty tail" made me laugh out loud.
And bravo to the Colonel for slapping down Lady Fanshaw!
Lady Fanshaw let out a strangled harrumph that sounded like someone had grabbed an orang-utan by the balls and given them a friendly squeeze.
Okay, that line almost made me choke on my tea. Bloody brilliant.
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Great fic. Pups!!!
And a Happy Birthday to the lovely
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Go the Colonel. Lol over the modesty tail.
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Thank you - that was absolutely adorable! I howled at the modesty tail bit. And yay for the colonel!
PUPPIES!!!!!!
no subject
*hugs* Glad you like it! That photo was too good an opportunity to pass up.
no subject
YAY!!! This was amazing :D I loved it. All those puppies, so cool to meet all the families!
But oh my, the horror of being expected to bring the grandparents along, erk. I think the Colonel did very well :D All that Fanshaw stuff was pretty hilarious *g*
Happy birthday to Luka!
no subject
She's not having any truck with the idea of modesty tails!