Fic: 5 Times Shaun Wished Sam Spoke Sheep, white cortina, dakfinv
Title: Five Times Shaun Wished Sam Spoke Sheep
Author: dak
Word Count: 1249 words
Rating: the fluffiest of white cortinas
A/N: Will only make sense if you've read Sam and the Sheep and Chopped. For
norfolkdumpling.
1.
“Right,” Sam sighed and carefully placed it on the floor. “Stay there so I can get dressed, okay?” The lamb stared at him. It stared at him as he picked out his trousers and his shirt. It stared at him as he started to remove his pyjama top. Sam stared back warily, then finished changing in the bathroom, with the door shut.
Hey. Hey, dude? Hey. Hey. Hey. Are you my mum? Wait. Wait. No. No you’re not. Uhm, who are you? What are you doing? What’s that for? Are you gonna eat that? Can I eat that? What are you...holy crap! Are you taking off your fur? You can shear yourself? That is so awesome, dude. Dude? Where are you going, dude? Do you know where my mum is? Hey, wait! Aw, man...
2.
“Violence is no way to solve your problems, Mary,” Gene smirked. The lamb cried. And cried. And cried. And cried. “Bloody hell, Gladys. That thing’s worse than you are, all that moaning.”
Sam? Sam? Sam? Sam? I’m gonna be sick, Sam. Tell ‘im to pull over. Please? Please? Please? Sam? Whoa! That was a turn. That was a serious turn. Oh man. Dude, Sam, can’t you control your sheepdog? Sometimes...sometimes in the flock, I’d hide from the sheepdog cos, cos he’d bark and snap and stuff. Mum would be all, “Run, son! Run with the herd!” And I’d always think, hey, what if I didn’t? And then the sheepdog would chase me, and I’d have to run, anyway.
Have you ever tried to run away from your sheepdog? I’d like to run away from your sheepdog. Sam? Sam? Sam? Can we stop now? Please? Please? Please? I’ll never eat again, I swear. Sam? Sam? Sam? Why’d he call you Gladys?
3.
Shaun immediately seemed taken with Annie, more so than with the other girls he had met so far, cuddling her hand with his fuzzy cheek and trying to climb into her lap as he released a series of cheerful, little “baa’s.”
“Oh you are a sweet thing. Yes you are. Who’s a good lamb?” Annie cooed to him.
Oh, now this one, Sam, this one’s a keeper. Uh-huh. Sam? You listening, Sam? She reminds me of Mrs. Kent. Well, she’s not as old or wrinkly, but they smell about the same. Wait? Do they? Yeah. Yeah, they do. She doesn’t smell like those other ewes we just paraded past. They were...odd. They smelled funny and were giving you this eye, Sam. Like they wanted to rip your wool right off. I was trying to tell ‘em, “Sammy can strip his own wool,” but they weren’t listening and just tugged on my face. They were odd ‘uns, Sam.
But this one? She smells nice and she doesn’t tug on my face. I have sensitive skin, you know. And, if she does want to tear your wool off, too, she’s being much more subtle about it. I like that. Hey, Sam. Sam. Sam. You’re sheepdog’s calling you, Sam. Don’t worry. I’ll stay here. We’ll be cool. Right, Annie? Right.
4.
“There you are, mate. Looks nice and cozy,” Sam smiled as he placed Shaun onto the warm pile, then climbed into bed himself. “Sleep tight.” It didn’t take long for the little lamb to start crying. Sam sighed, rolled over, and tried to ignore it but the poor thing sounded so pitiful.
“Alright. What is it?” Sam crawled out of bed and knelt before his little friend. Poor Shaun looked completely lost, lonely, and out of place. Sam could relate. “What’s the matter, eh?” He reached out a hand and started petting the little cotton ball. Shaun, in turn, crawled into Sam’s lap. “You miss your mum? Is that it?” Shaun cried. “Yeah. I do, too.” Sam kept stroking him and held him close. It wasn’t long before the tiny creature had fallen asleep.
Oh crap. It’s dark. It’s dark. It’s dark. Where’s my mum? Mum? Mum? Mum? Mum? Sam? Sam? Sam? Sam? I can’t find my mum, Sam. I can’t find my mum, Sam. She...she always tucks me in at night. I curl up right against her, and she nuzzles me, and tells me to sleep well. I thought this was just a day trip, thing, you know? Sam? And...and now it’s dark, but Mum’s not here and...and...I just, I don’t know what’s going on, Sam. I’m scared. I’m scared. I’m scared.
Please hug me. Please? Please? Please? I’m too scared to sleep, Sam. Can I just...can I crawl up here? I’m scared, Sam. What’s gonna happen? I want to go home. Your pen walls are really creepy. How can you sleep like this? Do you sleep like this? I can’t sleep like this. Please hug me. Please. Please. Don’t let me go, Sammy. I’m scared. I want my Mum. Please. Please. I’m sleepy now. But don’t let go! Please...
5.
“It was very nice to meet you, Shaun,” he smiled but couldn’t keep the slight hurt out of his voice. “You be a good lamb and play well with all the other lambs. Don’t cause any trouble and why am I talking to a sheep?” He sighed and laughed, shaking his head.
Shaun nuzzled at his hand and Sam obediently began to pet him. “My mind comes up with some strange things, doesn’t it?” Shaun responded in kind, trying to nibble at the cuff of Sam’s shirt. “You’ve found your home now. Maybe I will, too, eh?”
Well, Sam. Guess this is it. Don’t be sad. It’s better this way, really. I belong in the open air, in the grassy field. I belong with my herd. Well, I know it’s not my herd, but I guess it’ll do, eh? Look, you’re a great sheep, Sam. Really. And that Annie? Well, she’d be a good mate, Sam. Trust me. I know these things. I know you’re sad, and I am, too. It’s okay, though. I’m sure your sheepdog will let you visit me every now and then.
Speaking of your sheepdog - he seems like a good dog, Sam. Bit of a bark, and his herding leaves a little something to be desired, but he’s a loyal ‘un. I can tell. He’ll watch out for you when you’re lost and scared. It’s what a good sheepdog does. Can I eat this? Guess not.
Alright, Sam. He’s barking, so I guess you better go. I’ll see you around, Sam. I’m sure we haven’t seen the last of each other. Bye, Sammy. Is that mud? Muuuuuud!
And a bonus #6...
“Shaun?” he called out. “Shaun!”
Over all the sounds of the farm, one sheep’s baa stood out amongst the raucous. Sam jumped the fence and ran to the woolly form standing contentedly in the middle of the small field. He threw his arms around the sheep’s rough neck and hugged him tightly.
“Shaun, thank God you’re alright,” he smiled into rough coat of fur.
And so I was telling him...Sam? Hold on a sec, mate. Sam? Hey Sam! Hey! What’s up, Sam? Long time, no...Sam. *ack* Sammy, you’re, uh, you’re choking me, brother. Loosen up there. Loosen up. Dude, what is up with you? You look like you haven’t slept in weeks, Sam. Sam? Sam?
Gene. C’mon, Gene. You’re supposed to be looking out for him, man. Did you let him in the happy pills again? Bad sheepdog, bad! And now Sammy’s all muddy. Poor thing. Dude, Gene? You and me? We’re gonna have words.