(no subject)

Jul 30, 2010 21:53

Not quite a week has passed since the rain stopped, but the evidence of a month's worth of rainfall remains. Leaves are dry but the earth is still damp, upturned or sluiced away in places, and dark, mottled spots pepper the lower outside walls of the Compound where the run-off from the roof had splashed up dirt that then dried as the sun finally revealed itself again. Spock has never been fond of rain, does not quite know how to adapt to anything so torrential as what he has endured the past month, but his gratefulness at it being finished has very little to do with his own reaction to it.

Spock has quite a lot of patience, but would wager that anyone cooped up inside a small home with Leonard McCoy for a month would find even the deepest well of equanimity wearing thin. The situation was further compounded by a regular onslaught of complaints regarding the arrested progress of McCoy's home expansion, a project which Spock continues to find entirely illogical. Quite needless to say, he is rather relieved by the weather's return to something less wet, if only so that he can contrive reasonable excuses to put a little distance between himself and his perpetually-irate roommate from time to time.

Like now, for example, which finds him walking stiff-necked up the main pathway to the Compound, two books on human behavior in hand.

hal hefner, spock, the doctor, claire bennet

Previous post Next post
Up