Fic: Derisive, Incredulous or Amused (Axel/Roxas, worksafe)
Derisive, Incredulous or Amused
"You don't have a cat," Roxas said, immediately.
Kingdom Hearts, Axel/Roxas. 500 words.
Worksafe. Welsh Sheepfarming AU, with usual caveat about actually knowing nothing about mid-20th-century Wales).
That autumn day at teatime wasn't the first time Axel had convinced Roxas to enter his house (although it was close) but it was the first time he'd actually managed to get him to take off his scarf, sit down and accept a cup of tea. Which was progress. Roxas held the tea as firmly as if it were a weapon and gave him a terribly baleful look over the rim, but still: progress.
That didn't give them anything to talk about, though, short of the fall sheep sales and how Axel's repair shop was doing -- neither of which were the kind of topics he'd really invited Roxas here to pursue. So to forestall Roxas gulping his tea, scalding his mouth, scowling, and going home, all without words exchanged, Axel said, "I haven't introduce you to my cat, have I?"
"You don't have a cat," Roxas said, immediately.
"I do so." Axel pointed to a spot in front of the woodstove, where, nearly indistinguishable against the ratty carpet, there lay a patchy and scarred ginger tom.
Roxas looked hard at the cat, and then said, "That's not your cat. That's a stray."
It was perfectly true. Axel stretched. "It's my cat now." He'd thought the animal would put Roxas at ease, which was why he'd let it stay when it had skulked through the half-open door and made itself at home before the fire, three days previously. Roxas liked animals, or at least he liked them better than people -- he lavished surprising care on his sheep, and doted, in a quiet, surly way, on his sheepdogs. But he was staring at Axel like he'd grown an extra head.
"What's its name, then?"
Oh. Problem. "Assassin," Axel invented.
"Assassin?" Now Roxas looked as though he wasn't sure to be derisive, incredulous, or amused. Axel was pushing for the last.
"Well, where'd you get your dogs' names from?"
Roxas rolled his eyes. "Pence and Olette already had names when I adopted them."
"Oh."
Roxas' expression was one of deep skepticism. "You're really naming your cat Assassin?"
"Why not? He looks like it, doesn't he? C'mere, boy." Axel patted his knee encouragingly. The cat lifted its head -- long enough to reveal a missing right ear and left eye -- and then disdained him utterly. "See?"
Roxas snorted. "My dogs are useful," he said, into his tea.
"Assassin's useful. Can you imagine any mice coming anywhere near and getting away unscathed?"
Roxas smiled a little, apparently despite himself. "Or rats. Or weasels. Or badgers. Or she-cats, come to that."
"See?" Axel crowed. "Assassin. I told you it was a good name."
"You're completely impossible," Roxas said. "My dogs are well-behaved. Why would you want a pet who fights with everything and scorns you all the time?"
"Oh, I don't know," Axel said, reaching out to scruff Roxas' hair (Roxas predictably made a noise of wounded dignity and scuttled back). "Call it a personal quirk."
"You don't have a cat," Roxas said, immediately.
Kingdom Hearts, Axel/Roxas. 500 words.
Worksafe. Welsh Sheepfarming AU, with usual caveat about actually knowing nothing about mid-20th-century Wales).
That autumn day at teatime wasn't the first time Axel had convinced Roxas to enter his house (although it was close) but it was the first time he'd actually managed to get him to take off his scarf, sit down and accept a cup of tea. Which was progress. Roxas held the tea as firmly as if it were a weapon and gave him a terribly baleful look over the rim, but still: progress.
That didn't give them anything to talk about, though, short of the fall sheep sales and how Axel's repair shop was doing -- neither of which were the kind of topics he'd really invited Roxas here to pursue. So to forestall Roxas gulping his tea, scalding his mouth, scowling, and going home, all without words exchanged, Axel said, "I haven't introduce you to my cat, have I?"
"You don't have a cat," Roxas said, immediately.
"I do so." Axel pointed to a spot in front of the woodstove, where, nearly indistinguishable against the ratty carpet, there lay a patchy and scarred ginger tom.
Roxas looked hard at the cat, and then said, "That's not your cat. That's a stray."
It was perfectly true. Axel stretched. "It's my cat now." He'd thought the animal would put Roxas at ease, which was why he'd let it stay when it had skulked through the half-open door and made itself at home before the fire, three days previously. Roxas liked animals, or at least he liked them better than people -- he lavished surprising care on his sheep, and doted, in a quiet, surly way, on his sheepdogs. But he was staring at Axel like he'd grown an extra head.
"What's its name, then?"
Oh. Problem. "Assassin," Axel invented.
"Assassin?" Now Roxas looked as though he wasn't sure to be derisive, incredulous, or amused. Axel was pushing for the last.
"Well, where'd you get your dogs' names from?"
Roxas rolled his eyes. "Pence and Olette already had names when I adopted them."
"Oh."
Roxas' expression was one of deep skepticism. "You're really naming your cat Assassin?"
"Why not? He looks like it, doesn't he? C'mere, boy." Axel patted his knee encouragingly. The cat lifted its head -- long enough to reveal a missing right ear and left eye -- and then disdained him utterly. "See?"
Roxas snorted. "My dogs are useful," he said, into his tea.
"Assassin's useful. Can you imagine any mice coming anywhere near and getting away unscathed?"
Roxas smiled a little, apparently despite himself. "Or rats. Or weasels. Or badgers. Or she-cats, come to that."
"See?" Axel crowed. "Assassin. I told you it was a good name."
"You're completely impossible," Roxas said. "My dogs are well-behaved. Why would you want a pet who fights with everything and scorns you all the time?"
"Oh, I don't know," Axel said, reaching out to scruff Roxas' hair (Roxas predictably made a noise of wounded dignity and scuttled back). "Call it a personal quirk."