[story, apparently] and then alan wanted to save the aye-aye
So, Steven wanted me to write a story about the aye-aye, this ugly little endangered thing in the Madagascan (?) forests that was mentioned in an interesting article on Slate yesterday.
So I did it. Um. Danny is actually a little out of character in this story, but I don't think anyone cares except for me.
***
To: dstevens@salucorp.com (Danny work)
From: alan.pratchett@beaumont.org (Alan Pratchett)
Date: March 2, 2007 10:48 am
Subject: You should do your part to protect the animal kingdom
So I've been thinking about adopting an Aye-aye.
-a
--
Attached: ayeaye1.jpg
Danny stared at the message for a few moments without bothering to download the attachment. It was the seventh e-mail Alan had sent so far, the third since Danny stopped responding to them.
He hit reply.
To: alan.pratchett@beaumont.org (Alan)
From: dstevens@salucorp.com (Daniel Stevens)
Date: March 2, 2007 10:50 am
Subject: Re: You should do your part to protect the animal kingdom
You do remember that we went through this already, right? About eight years ago? When I bought you a kitten?
I understand that you seem to have developed maternal instincts, probably from spending all day with children. That being said, I've given you a kitten, as well as my dubious consent to your plans to get my former secretary knocked up and take the child. We really don't need another pet, do we?
-DS
Satisfied, Danny hit send. His e-mail program brought him back to the original message and, out of curiosity, he downloaded the attached image.
"Holy shit."
To: alan.pratchett@beaumont.org (Alan)
From: dstevens@salucorp.com (Daniel Stevens)
Date: March 2, 2007 10:51 am
Subject: You are a deranged man.
Holy fuck, that is the ugliest... whatever it is that I have ever seen.
"Felicity!" he bellowed once he had sent the second message. It took him a moment to remember that Felicity was no longer at the desk outside his office, but before he could correct himself, his latest secretary was already headed inside.
"Did you need Ms. Fenchurch or me?" the woman--girl, really--asked.
"Um. Felicity," Danny said. He got up from his desk and headed to the outer office, the young woman trailing behind him. "Thanks, um..." Fuck. He really had to get better at learning their names.
"Lacey James," the girl said.
"Ms. James," Danny amended, smiling apologetically. "I'm getting old, my mind isn't what it used to be." He meant it as a joke, but it occurred to him that, compared to the young woman whose desk he was now standing in front of, he was old. "Um, how old are you again? If you don't mind my asking?"
"Twenty-two," she said, sinking into her chair and paying him little mind. It looked like she was scouring MySpace on her laptop. Oh god, he was really old.
"Right. Great," he muttered. Turning away, he yelled, "Felicity!" down the hallway. It took all of ten seconds for Felicity to stomp out of her office, looking vaguely irate.
"Gee, Danny, you could always learn to use the intercom," she muttered.
"I know how to use the intercom," Danny pointed out. "I just feel like shouting is more productive." Felicity rolled her eyes, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she did so. "Why is my demented boyfriend sending me pictures of ugly animals that he claims he wants to adopt?"
Felicity just stared at him. He shifted awkwardly, suddenly aware of the fact that they were standing in the middle of the hallway and several people were staring out of their offices at them. It was, he noted absently, mostly the new people. Everyone else seemed to have come to the conclusion that conversations like this were basically par for the course.
"I don't know," Felicity finally said. "Let me use my psychic powers to figure it out." A pause, and then: "Wait, what kind of animals?"
"Ugly ones," Danny repeated. "With creepy eyes and this tufty," he gestured vaguely, pinching the air above his arm, "I don't know, hair-stuff and--"
"Mr. Stevens?"
Danny broke off mid-sentence and glanced over his shoulder at his secretary.
"Yes?"
"You have a call on line one. It's Mr. Pratchett."
"Dr. Pratchett," Danny corrected automatically, despite the fact that Alan rarely used the title that Danny, personally, had to sit through a graduation ceremony for.
"He didn't specify," the girl said.
"Well, he is," Danny said lamely. "He has a PhD in chemical engineering." He paused. Lacey James was giving him a look like she thought he was unhinged. "Give me the phone," he muttered, crossing the room and grabbing it from her.
"There's something seriously wrong with you," he said into the phone.
"Why, hello, Alan! Nice to hear from you! Sorry I left this morning without saying goodbye, especially because I've been on a business trip for three days and haven't seen you. How's your plague? I'm really sorry I left you stranded without coffee or so much as a goodbye kiss!"
"Right," Danny said, suddenly feeling less than confident about the way this conversation was going to go. "How are you feeling?"
"Like shit," Alan said over the phone line, and underneath the slight whine, Danny could hear the rough edge to his voice, the slight wheeze put there by his chest cold.
"Hold on one second, I'm going to transfer you to my office." He pushed the hold button before Alan could complain and dashed back to his desk without so much as a goodbye to Felicity. The last thing he needed was her typical "you are so incredibly whipped" smirk.
Once he was seated at his desk, he picked up his phone and connected to line one again.
"You know, that is a seriously ugly animal, dear," he said.
"It's endangered," Alan said. "And I think you need to stop and realize we should be saving all the endangered animals, not just the cute ones."
"It looks like something out of a horror movie."
"And just because it's scary you would doom it to extinction?"
Danny rolled his eyes. "I'm just saying, I bought you a kitten."
Before Alan could reply, Danny's e-mail chimed.
"Hold on a second," he said, and put Alan on hold again before he could protest.
To: dstevens (Daniel Stevens)
From: ffenchurch (Felicity Fenchurch)
Date: March 2, 2007 11:18 am
Subject: OH MY GOD WHAT IS WRONG WITH HIM?
THAT IS THE CREEPIEST THING I HAVE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE DANNY WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOUR HUSBAND I SWEAR HE DIDN'T USED TO BE THIS WEIRD WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO HIM?
He should have known that Felicity would find some way to pin this on him. Like it was his fault. All he did was go to a stupid, routine, perfectly normal meeting with a schoolteacher nine years ago. How was it his fault that he ended up married to the guy? Alan was at least half-responsible for all of this.
Your memory is faulty, he typed back to Felicity. He's always been this weird.
He sighed. It was going to be one of those days.
Distantly, abstractly, he understood that he had brought this on himself. He had been, perhaps, a little brusque with Alan the night before. It was a long business trip, a long flight, and he was tired. In retrospect, it probably would have been polite for him to say more than, "Oh god, don't breathe on me, I can't get sick, I'm going to bed," especially since he had spent every night of his actual trip reading to Alan over the phone in an effort to soothe his terrible cough and sore throat despite being half a continent away.
And maybe it would have been nice if he hadn't just ignored the post-it note on the door reminding them that they were out of coffee. And maybe he should have said goodbye before he left, or at least checked Alan's temperature.
It was entirely possible he was a gigantic cad. But still. That was a damn ugly animal.
He picked up the phone again.
"Did you e-mail Felicity a picture of this beast?" he asked.
"I'm trying to spread the word about the Aye-aye," Alan replied haughtily.
"I'll take that as a yes. She seems to think that it's my fault you're a lunatic. I tried to explain that you've always been like this."
"I don't think the destruction of an entire species of animal is a laughing matter."
"I'm sorry about the coffee."
"I'm sorry you don't recognize the plight of the Aye-aye." There was a huff and then a click and then the dial tone.
Danny dug in his desk and pulled out a bottle of ibuprofen. Definitely one of those days, then.
He picked up the phone again and dialed Felicity's extension. It took her four rings to pick up, and he knew it was more for show than anything else. She wasn't really busy, she was just embracing her role as a pawn in Alan's ultimate evil scheme. Not for the first time, he cursed himself to introducing the two of them.
"Okay, so, what are my options?" he asked as soon as she picked up.
"Do not under any circumstances let him get one of those things," Felicity deadpanned.
"It's an endangered animal, Lis. I don't think they sell them at PetCo."
"And it's a good thing, too. Anyway, what are your options for what?"
"Not sleeping on the couch for the rest of my natural life," Danny snapped. "What the hell do you think I'm talking about?"
"Why is it you think I have some sudden insight into your stupid boyfriend's psyche?"
"Because my stupid boyfriend is your best girlfriend and I'm sure you, you know. Whatever."
"Paint each other's nails and talk about cute boys at our sleepovers?"
Danny scowled. "I hate you." He paused. "You don't, do you?"
"You two are really a good match, seeing as how you're both insane."
There was a knock on Danny's door. He covered the mouthpiece of the phone. "Come in!" he yelled.
"What's going on?" Felicity asked over the phone.
"You have a fax," Lacey James said from the doorway, waving a sheaf of papers in the air.
"I have a fax," Danny said into the phone. "Who's it from?" he asked Lacey.
"Dr. Pratchett," she said. "It looks like an article from Slate.com about endangered animals."
Danny popped the bottle of pills open again. He wondered how many he'd have to take before he passed out.
"Thanks," he muttered to Lacey as she walked over to his desk and deposited the papers in his inbox.
"Do you need anything else?" she asked.
"A quickie divorce?" he said hopefully.
On the phone, Felicity snorted. "You're not really married, remember?"
"And a new Public Relations director," he added pointedly to Lacey. Felicity shouted, "hey!" over the phone.
"So... nothing, then?"
"No," Danny said with a sigh. "You can go."
Lacey left. Felicity snickered.
"I'm hanging up on you," Danny said and then did so.
He glanced at the papers Lacey had placed on his desk. The aye-aye really was a disturbingly ugly creature.
Right. Back to business. Or rather, back to distracting himself from actual business by trying to salvage his personal life. Again. He'd leave early, pick something nice up for dinner. Maybe get a movie. And a bottle of wine. And a plant. Alan was always complaining that Danny kept killing all of his plants. More coffee, definitely, and a book, or--oh, wasn't there some new dvd that Alan had been talking about? He'd have to call Doug and ask for details.
His e-mail chimed again. He groaned before he even bothered to turn his attention to his computer.
To: dstevens (Daniel Stevens)
From: rlondon (Rupert London)
Date: March 2, 2007 11:42 am
Subject: Re: Your Spouse
Danny,
If my ex-wife was half as funny when we were fighting as Alan is when you two are, she wouldn't be my ex-wife.
-Rupert
----BEGIN FORWARDED MESSAGE----
To: rlondon@salucorp.com (Rupert London)
From: alan.pratchett@beaumont.org (Alan Pratchett)
Date: March 2, 2007 11:30 am
Subject: Your company's charitable efforts
Hello, Mr. London,
Danny mentioned the other day that you were looking into various charitable efforts for both the company and your own personal mini-fortune. Might I suggest donating money to help protect the aye-aye? It's a fairly remarkable endangered creature that doesn't get the kind of attention afforded to the Panda or African Elephant.
If you need to send Danny away to a foreign country forever to investigate it further, you have my full permission.
Regards,
Alan Pratchett
Oh, that was just... that was just too much. Entirely too much.
He was dialing the phone before he even realized it.
"Pick up!" he shouted into the answering machine. "Alan, please pick up! The last time I groveled on the answering machine you saved the message for two months and I had to hear it ever time I tried to listen for new messages, plus you 'accidentally' played it for Doug and Laura and Tristan and Green one afternoon, and I had to put up with their snickers every time they saw me."
Silence.
"Okay, fine, I'll grovel on the answering machine. Christ. I'm sorry for being a bastard. I'm sorry about the coffee. I'm sorry you feel so shitty. I'm sorry I'm a terrible boyfriend. I'm sorry for, you know, probably a dozen other things I've done to piss you off. But now? Every time I see Mr. London in a meeting or at lunch or whatever he's going to make jokes about sending me to live in the jungle and you know how sometimes he gets that gleam in his eye where you don't really know if he's joking? I can't live in the jungle, Alan. I can barely survive the humidity in Florida!"
More silence.
"When I get transferred to Mongolia and we have to break up tragically again it's going to fall squarely on your shoulders, buddy."
There was a click and then laughter, which, as irritated as Danny was, was a nice, soothing sound. Alan had a nice laugh, and it was good to hear it after a week of The Cold From Hell.
"You're not being transferred to Mongolia," Alan said.
"I certainly hope not," Danny said.
"There are no aye-ayes in Mongolia. If you're going to be transferred anywhere, it's Madagascar."
Before Danny could say anything, Alan hung up again. Danny sighed, but his frustration level had dropped significantly. He had gotten Alan to laugh, which probably meant that the worst of this very special brand of torture was over.
Still, he did feel bad and he did recognize that he had been a world-class asshole that morning. Which was why he found himself standing outside his apartment eight hours later, holding a multitude of bags and boxes and knocking on the door with his elbow. Doug Walker, who was exiting his own apartment, raised a single eyebrow at Danny.
"I'm apologizing," he managed to say around his keys, which were dangling from his teeth.
"Good luck with that," Doug replied, and reached over to knock on the door a little more clearly.
"Thanks," Danny said. Doug just smiled and disappeared down the hall.
Alan opened the door in his pajamas. His eyes were still red and runny and he had a box of tissues clutched in one hand.
"The aye-aye is often overlooked in favor of more cuddly animals," he said solemnly in greeting. Danny rolled his eyes and shoved the still-warm takeout boxes that contained their dinner into his hands, along with the bottle of wine. With his free hand, he took his keys from his mouth and dropped them on the table next to the door, closing the door behind him.
"I hope, then, that you'll be able to overlook that and appreciate the gesture behind this."
In his other hand he was holding a cardboard box with holes in one side. He held it out to Alan, who slowly put the food and wine on the ground, glancing curiously at the proffered box all the while.
"Go on," Danny said, and Alan took the box from him, opening it up.
Inside, curled in one corner, was a tiny, sleeping kitten.
Alan's eyes immediately went big and round and soft, the same way they did whenever Rusty was mewing for his attention. Bigger and rounder, if it was at all possible.
"Danny!" he whispered in awe. "It's a kitten!" He looked up at Danny, with that same soft wonder and affection and some deep, girlish part of Danny, the part that remembered every single one of their anniversaries and brought Alan flowers for no reason and made him want to touch Alan all the time just to know he's there, that part of him tightened and flexed and clenched in his chest.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly.
Alan looked up from the box with a small, lopsided smile. "You know, dinner and wine would have been enough."
Danny shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets after placing his briefcase next to the door. "I just... you know. I wanted you to have something. In case this whole baby thing doesn't work out, I still want you to...have something. Have this."
It was an awkward sentiment. Usually he was better about these things. Usually he was the one with the treacley, romantic words, the grand gestures backed by excited smiles and anticipation. But the past few months had been hard on both of them, and sometimes Danny felt like he was re-learning all of this for the second time.
Alan seemed to understand, though.
"I have Rusty," Alan said softly. "I don't need... I have Rusty, Danny. I have you." He smiled again. "That's enough. This..." He gestured around the room. "This is enough."
"You probably taste like cough syrup and mucous and I've sure you haven't showered in days, but I think I'm going to kiss you now, anyway," Danny said. "So you should probably put the kitten down."
Alan grinned and did as he was told. "Okay," he said, the plight of the aye-aye clearly completely forgotten.
So I did it. Um. Danny is actually a little out of character in this story, but I don't think anyone cares except for me.
***
To: dstevens@salucorp.com (Danny work)
From: alan.pratchett@beaumont.org (Alan Pratchett)
Date: March 2, 2007 10:48 am
Subject: You should do your part to protect the animal kingdom
So I've been thinking about adopting an Aye-aye.
-a
--
Attached: ayeaye1.jpg
Danny stared at the message for a few moments without bothering to download the attachment. It was the seventh e-mail Alan had sent so far, the third since Danny stopped responding to them.
He hit reply.
To: alan.pratchett@beaumont.org (Alan)
From: dstevens@salucorp.com (Daniel Stevens)
Date: March 2, 2007 10:50 am
Subject: Re: You should do your part to protect the animal kingdom
You do remember that we went through this already, right? About eight years ago? When I bought you a kitten?
I understand that you seem to have developed maternal instincts, probably from spending all day with children. That being said, I've given you a kitten, as well as my dubious consent to your plans to get my former secretary knocked up and take the child. We really don't need another pet, do we?
-DS
Satisfied, Danny hit send. His e-mail program brought him back to the original message and, out of curiosity, he downloaded the attached image.
"Holy shit."
To: alan.pratchett@beaumont.org (Alan)
From: dstevens@salucorp.com (Daniel Stevens)
Date: March 2, 2007 10:51 am
Subject: You are a deranged man.
Holy fuck, that is the ugliest... whatever it is that I have ever seen.
"Felicity!" he bellowed once he had sent the second message. It took him a moment to remember that Felicity was no longer at the desk outside his office, but before he could correct himself, his latest secretary was already headed inside.
"Did you need Ms. Fenchurch or me?" the woman--girl, really--asked.
"Um. Felicity," Danny said. He got up from his desk and headed to the outer office, the young woman trailing behind him. "Thanks, um..." Fuck. He really had to get better at learning their names.
"Lacey James," the girl said.
"Ms. James," Danny amended, smiling apologetically. "I'm getting old, my mind isn't what it used to be." He meant it as a joke, but it occurred to him that, compared to the young woman whose desk he was now standing in front of, he was old. "Um, how old are you again? If you don't mind my asking?"
"Twenty-two," she said, sinking into her chair and paying him little mind. It looked like she was scouring MySpace on her laptop. Oh god, he was really old.
"Right. Great," he muttered. Turning away, he yelled, "Felicity!" down the hallway. It took all of ten seconds for Felicity to stomp out of her office, looking vaguely irate.
"Gee, Danny, you could always learn to use the intercom," she muttered.
"I know how to use the intercom," Danny pointed out. "I just feel like shouting is more productive." Felicity rolled her eyes, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she did so. "Why is my demented boyfriend sending me pictures of ugly animals that he claims he wants to adopt?"
Felicity just stared at him. He shifted awkwardly, suddenly aware of the fact that they were standing in the middle of the hallway and several people were staring out of their offices at them. It was, he noted absently, mostly the new people. Everyone else seemed to have come to the conclusion that conversations like this were basically par for the course.
"I don't know," Felicity finally said. "Let me use my psychic powers to figure it out." A pause, and then: "Wait, what kind of animals?"
"Ugly ones," Danny repeated. "With creepy eyes and this tufty," he gestured vaguely, pinching the air above his arm, "I don't know, hair-stuff and--"
"Mr. Stevens?"
Danny broke off mid-sentence and glanced over his shoulder at his secretary.
"Yes?"
"You have a call on line one. It's Mr. Pratchett."
"Dr. Pratchett," Danny corrected automatically, despite the fact that Alan rarely used the title that Danny, personally, had to sit through a graduation ceremony for.
"He didn't specify," the girl said.
"Well, he is," Danny said lamely. "He has a PhD in chemical engineering." He paused. Lacey James was giving him a look like she thought he was unhinged. "Give me the phone," he muttered, crossing the room and grabbing it from her.
"There's something seriously wrong with you," he said into the phone.
"Why, hello, Alan! Nice to hear from you! Sorry I left this morning without saying goodbye, especially because I've been on a business trip for three days and haven't seen you. How's your plague? I'm really sorry I left you stranded without coffee or so much as a goodbye kiss!"
"Right," Danny said, suddenly feeling less than confident about the way this conversation was going to go. "How are you feeling?"
"Like shit," Alan said over the phone line, and underneath the slight whine, Danny could hear the rough edge to his voice, the slight wheeze put there by his chest cold.
"Hold on one second, I'm going to transfer you to my office." He pushed the hold button before Alan could complain and dashed back to his desk without so much as a goodbye to Felicity. The last thing he needed was her typical "you are so incredibly whipped" smirk.
Once he was seated at his desk, he picked up his phone and connected to line one again.
"You know, that is a seriously ugly animal, dear," he said.
"It's endangered," Alan said. "And I think you need to stop and realize we should be saving all the endangered animals, not just the cute ones."
"It looks like something out of a horror movie."
"And just because it's scary you would doom it to extinction?"
Danny rolled his eyes. "I'm just saying, I bought you a kitten."
Before Alan could reply, Danny's e-mail chimed.
"Hold on a second," he said, and put Alan on hold again before he could protest.
To: dstevens (Daniel Stevens)
From: ffenchurch (Felicity Fenchurch)
Date: March 2, 2007 11:18 am
Subject: OH MY GOD WHAT IS WRONG WITH HIM?
THAT IS THE CREEPIEST THING I HAVE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE DANNY WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOUR HUSBAND I SWEAR HE DIDN'T USED TO BE THIS WEIRD WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO HIM?
He should have known that Felicity would find some way to pin this on him. Like it was his fault. All he did was go to a stupid, routine, perfectly normal meeting with a schoolteacher nine years ago. How was it his fault that he ended up married to the guy? Alan was at least half-responsible for all of this.
Your memory is faulty, he typed back to Felicity. He's always been this weird.
He sighed. It was going to be one of those days.
Distantly, abstractly, he understood that he had brought this on himself. He had been, perhaps, a little brusque with Alan the night before. It was a long business trip, a long flight, and he was tired. In retrospect, it probably would have been polite for him to say more than, "Oh god, don't breathe on me, I can't get sick, I'm going to bed," especially since he had spent every night of his actual trip reading to Alan over the phone in an effort to soothe his terrible cough and sore throat despite being half a continent away.
And maybe it would have been nice if he hadn't just ignored the post-it note on the door reminding them that they were out of coffee. And maybe he should have said goodbye before he left, or at least checked Alan's temperature.
It was entirely possible he was a gigantic cad. But still. That was a damn ugly animal.
He picked up the phone again.
"Did you e-mail Felicity a picture of this beast?" he asked.
"I'm trying to spread the word about the Aye-aye," Alan replied haughtily.
"I'll take that as a yes. She seems to think that it's my fault you're a lunatic. I tried to explain that you've always been like this."
"I don't think the destruction of an entire species of animal is a laughing matter."
"I'm sorry about the coffee."
"I'm sorry you don't recognize the plight of the Aye-aye." There was a huff and then a click and then the dial tone.
Danny dug in his desk and pulled out a bottle of ibuprofen. Definitely one of those days, then.
He picked up the phone again and dialed Felicity's extension. It took her four rings to pick up, and he knew it was more for show than anything else. She wasn't really busy, she was just embracing her role as a pawn in Alan's ultimate evil scheme. Not for the first time, he cursed himself to introducing the two of them.
"Okay, so, what are my options?" he asked as soon as she picked up.
"Do not under any circumstances let him get one of those things," Felicity deadpanned.
"It's an endangered animal, Lis. I don't think they sell them at PetCo."
"And it's a good thing, too. Anyway, what are your options for what?"
"Not sleeping on the couch for the rest of my natural life," Danny snapped. "What the hell do you think I'm talking about?"
"Why is it you think I have some sudden insight into your stupid boyfriend's psyche?"
"Because my stupid boyfriend is your best girlfriend and I'm sure you, you know. Whatever."
"Paint each other's nails and talk about cute boys at our sleepovers?"
Danny scowled. "I hate you." He paused. "You don't, do you?"
"You two are really a good match, seeing as how you're both insane."
There was a knock on Danny's door. He covered the mouthpiece of the phone. "Come in!" he yelled.
"What's going on?" Felicity asked over the phone.
"You have a fax," Lacey James said from the doorway, waving a sheaf of papers in the air.
"I have a fax," Danny said into the phone. "Who's it from?" he asked Lacey.
"Dr. Pratchett," she said. "It looks like an article from Slate.com about endangered animals."
Danny popped the bottle of pills open again. He wondered how many he'd have to take before he passed out.
"Thanks," he muttered to Lacey as she walked over to his desk and deposited the papers in his inbox.
"Do you need anything else?" she asked.
"A quickie divorce?" he said hopefully.
On the phone, Felicity snorted. "You're not really married, remember?"
"And a new Public Relations director," he added pointedly to Lacey. Felicity shouted, "hey!" over the phone.
"So... nothing, then?"
"No," Danny said with a sigh. "You can go."
Lacey left. Felicity snickered.
"I'm hanging up on you," Danny said and then did so.
He glanced at the papers Lacey had placed on his desk. The aye-aye really was a disturbingly ugly creature.
Right. Back to business. Or rather, back to distracting himself from actual business by trying to salvage his personal life. Again. He'd leave early, pick something nice up for dinner. Maybe get a movie. And a bottle of wine. And a plant. Alan was always complaining that Danny kept killing all of his plants. More coffee, definitely, and a book, or--oh, wasn't there some new dvd that Alan had been talking about? He'd have to call Doug and ask for details.
His e-mail chimed again. He groaned before he even bothered to turn his attention to his computer.
To: dstevens (Daniel Stevens)
From: rlondon (Rupert London)
Date: March 2, 2007 11:42 am
Subject: Re: Your Spouse
Danny,
If my ex-wife was half as funny when we were fighting as Alan is when you two are, she wouldn't be my ex-wife.
-Rupert
----BEGIN FORWARDED MESSAGE----
To: rlondon@salucorp.com (Rupert London)
From: alan.pratchett@beaumont.org (Alan Pratchett)
Date: March 2, 2007 11:30 am
Subject: Your company's charitable efforts
Hello, Mr. London,
Danny mentioned the other day that you were looking into various charitable efforts for both the company and your own personal mini-fortune. Might I suggest donating money to help protect the aye-aye? It's a fairly remarkable endangered creature that doesn't get the kind of attention afforded to the Panda or African Elephant.
If you need to send Danny away to a foreign country forever to investigate it further, you have my full permission.
Regards,
Alan Pratchett
Oh, that was just... that was just too much. Entirely too much.
He was dialing the phone before he even realized it.
"Pick up!" he shouted into the answering machine. "Alan, please pick up! The last time I groveled on the answering machine you saved the message for two months and I had to hear it ever time I tried to listen for new messages, plus you 'accidentally' played it for Doug and Laura and Tristan and Green one afternoon, and I had to put up with their snickers every time they saw me."
Silence.
"Okay, fine, I'll grovel on the answering machine. Christ. I'm sorry for being a bastard. I'm sorry about the coffee. I'm sorry you feel so shitty. I'm sorry I'm a terrible boyfriend. I'm sorry for, you know, probably a dozen other things I've done to piss you off. But now? Every time I see Mr. London in a meeting or at lunch or whatever he's going to make jokes about sending me to live in the jungle and you know how sometimes he gets that gleam in his eye where you don't really know if he's joking? I can't live in the jungle, Alan. I can barely survive the humidity in Florida!"
More silence.
"When I get transferred to Mongolia and we have to break up tragically again it's going to fall squarely on your shoulders, buddy."
There was a click and then laughter, which, as irritated as Danny was, was a nice, soothing sound. Alan had a nice laugh, and it was good to hear it after a week of The Cold From Hell.
"You're not being transferred to Mongolia," Alan said.
"I certainly hope not," Danny said.
"There are no aye-ayes in Mongolia. If you're going to be transferred anywhere, it's Madagascar."
Before Danny could say anything, Alan hung up again. Danny sighed, but his frustration level had dropped significantly. He had gotten Alan to laugh, which probably meant that the worst of this very special brand of torture was over.
Still, he did feel bad and he did recognize that he had been a world-class asshole that morning. Which was why he found himself standing outside his apartment eight hours later, holding a multitude of bags and boxes and knocking on the door with his elbow. Doug Walker, who was exiting his own apartment, raised a single eyebrow at Danny.
"I'm apologizing," he managed to say around his keys, which were dangling from his teeth.
"Good luck with that," Doug replied, and reached over to knock on the door a little more clearly.
"Thanks," Danny said. Doug just smiled and disappeared down the hall.
Alan opened the door in his pajamas. His eyes were still red and runny and he had a box of tissues clutched in one hand.
"The aye-aye is often overlooked in favor of more cuddly animals," he said solemnly in greeting. Danny rolled his eyes and shoved the still-warm takeout boxes that contained their dinner into his hands, along with the bottle of wine. With his free hand, he took his keys from his mouth and dropped them on the table next to the door, closing the door behind him.
"I hope, then, that you'll be able to overlook that and appreciate the gesture behind this."
In his other hand he was holding a cardboard box with holes in one side. He held it out to Alan, who slowly put the food and wine on the ground, glancing curiously at the proffered box all the while.
"Go on," Danny said, and Alan took the box from him, opening it up.
Inside, curled in one corner, was a tiny, sleeping kitten.
Alan's eyes immediately went big and round and soft, the same way they did whenever Rusty was mewing for his attention. Bigger and rounder, if it was at all possible.
"Danny!" he whispered in awe. "It's a kitten!" He looked up at Danny, with that same soft wonder and affection and some deep, girlish part of Danny, the part that remembered every single one of their anniversaries and brought Alan flowers for no reason and made him want to touch Alan all the time just to know he's there, that part of him tightened and flexed and clenched in his chest.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly.
Alan looked up from the box with a small, lopsided smile. "You know, dinner and wine would have been enough."
Danny shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets after placing his briefcase next to the door. "I just... you know. I wanted you to have something. In case this whole baby thing doesn't work out, I still want you to...have something. Have this."
It was an awkward sentiment. Usually he was better about these things. Usually he was the one with the treacley, romantic words, the grand gestures backed by excited smiles and anticipation. But the past few months had been hard on both of them, and sometimes Danny felt like he was re-learning all of this for the second time.
Alan seemed to understand, though.
"I have Rusty," Alan said softly. "I don't need... I have Rusty, Danny. I have you." He smiled again. "That's enough. This..." He gestured around the room. "This is enough."
"You probably taste like cough syrup and mucous and I've sure you haven't showered in days, but I think I'm going to kiss you now, anyway," Danny said. "So you should probably put the kitten down."
Alan grinned and did as he was told. "Okay," he said, the plight of the aye-aye clearly completely forgotten.