Standalone: "The Hazards of Allowing Brian Kinney To Have a Pet"
Title: The Hazards of Allowing Brian Kinney To Have a Pet
Timeframe: Post Season Five
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1303
This is for jackieb78, who wouldn't stop talking about this premise, and who needs a smile right now. I hope you like it, Jackie.
The Hazards of Allowing Brian Kinney To Have a Pet
By Severina
* * *
My life is pretty boring.
I swim around. And then I swim around. And then I swim around some more. Once a day somebody from the pet store drops a little food into the tank, and then I cruise up with all the other goldfish and betas and have a bite to eat. Then I swim some more. Occasionally I’ll hide behind the plastic green tree. But the other fish don’t seem to get the “seek” part of “hide and seek”. You know that thing that humans say about us: that goldfish only have a two second memory? I think that’s true of the losers I have the misfortune to be sharing this tank with.
I’d love to get out and see the world. I watch all the happy families coming in, moms and dads (and sometimes dads and dads, or moms and moms) with kids in tow. Do they ever come over to my tank? Nooooo. They always head straight for the fluffy little kittens and the rambunctious little puppies. Those mutts have an unfair advantage. Can a goldfish make cute little melty eyes like a cocker spaniel? I think not. Can a goldfish give off a pathetic little meow that practically screams ‘take me home, feed me, love me’?” No. All I can do is pucker my mouth and flap my gills. I don’t have a chance.
This Tuesday had been much like any other in my life. Swim. Swim. Eat. Swim. Rinse and repeat. Tedious. I bore even myself. Various couples and groups had made their way past my tank throughout the day, heading for the pups and kittens, or occasionally for the lizards. It got so I didn’t even pay attention when I saw them walk by. They’re just a sea of legs and torsos that go by in a blur. I had just about decided to take a nap, when I noticed that two people had actually stopped. Right in front of my tank.
I didn’t want to get my hopes up, so I tried to casually swim toward the top of the tank so I could hear better.
“--ian, come on,” the shorter one says. He’s wearing a grey cotton jersey, and gesturing with his hands. I can’t help but notice the dried paint under his nails. “You’ll like a cat.”
I knew it.
“Cat hair on the furniture, cat hair on my clothes,” the taller one says, ticking off his complaints on his long fingers. “Cat hair on my duvet…”
I like the tall one. I swim closer to the side of the tank and wiggle my tail seductively.
“They’re not that bad,” the smaller one mutters.
I start concentrating on the tall one, using every bit of mental power I possess. Cats are messy, I try to tell him psychically. They’re ugly and they scratch furniture and they track litter all over the house. And they spray!
The tall one leans down to look into my tank. If I could wink at him, I would. He’s a handsome devil, as humans go. He taps a finger tentatively on the glass, and the betas scatter. Little wimps. “We’re getting a fish,” he says firmly.
We’re getting a fish. Music to my ears! Not a cat, not a dog, not a lizard… a FISH. I can barely control myself. I swim eagerly around the tank waiting for the stupid pet store human to get her ass in gear. After what seems like a century she finally arrives, carrying that little green net.
“Which one do you want?” she asks my soon-to-be owners.
The handsome one shrugs. “Justin?”
And the smaller one -- Justin -- just crosses his arms over his chest. “Like I give a fuck,” he mutters. “It’s your stupid fish.” I see the salesgirl blink in surprise as she turns away from them to remove the mesh cover and dip the net into my tank.
Me! Pick me! I swim eagerly to the surface and dive for the swooping net. And I miss. Fuck! The other goldfish scatter like the stupid twits they are, tails swishing frantically as they try to avoid the net. To avoid it! I try to track the path of the net so I can anticipate where it will swoop next, but the stupid human is just thrusting it through the water aimlessly. I swim as fast as I can into its path and….
Noooooooo!
Not Harold! Not Harold you stupid bitch!
I watch sorrowfully as Harold flops about in the net before he’s dropped into the water-filled plastic bag. The incompetent moron of a salesgirl ties a knot in the end of the bag before handing it off to Justin, who takes it with a scowl directed at Harold.
“Do you need any supplies or--” is all I hear before I let myself drift dejectedly to the bottom of the tank.
* * *
“I still can’t believe you did that,” Justin says as he pushes open the door to the pet store.
“What?” Brian asks innocently. “I just wanted to see what would happen.”
“You do not put E in a fish tank!” Justin looks around to make sure no one heard him --the last thing they need is for the store to refuse to sell them another fish, or charge them with animal cruelty or something. He grabs Brian’s arm and steers him toward the back of the store.
“I thought he’d just get… very happy.”
“Yeah, well, you thought wrong,” Justin says. “He just got dead.”
“Look,” Brian says, “I’ve already apologized. I’ve already said I’ll buy you another fish. Which,” he adds, “is pretty magnanimous of me considering you said that fish was mine to begin with.”
Justin snorts. “You never changed the water. You never added in the conditioner. You never talked to him at all.”
“It was a fish.”
“So? You think fish don’t need companionship?”
Brian nods. “That’s exactly what I think.”
“And that’s why this one is going to be kept in the bedroom where I can keep an eye on it,” Justin says.
“Ohhh, I don’t think so.”
Justin stops at the goldfish tank and looks down at the fish swimming mindlessly in the water. “And you’re not going to go near him with any illegal substances,” Justin reminds him crossly.
Brian presses his lips together. “Yes, dear.”
* * *
They’re back.
I don’t want to get excited after my last disappointment, but I can’t help it. It’s not often a goldfish like me gets a second chance. I dart back in forth in front of the tank, swimming toward Justin and then back to the handsome one. I wiggle my tail. I flap my gills. I practically dance in that water.
The salesgirl dips the net into the tank, swooping aimlessly again through the water. This time, I use the plastic tree to my advantage. I hide behind it until the last possible moment, then dart out like a bat out of hell.
I’m in! I’m in! The net leaves the water and for a moment I can’t breathe, can’t breathe, everything’s getting dark… oh mama… and then, hallelujah! I’m in the bag! I’M IN THE BAG!
Justin takes the bag gently, holding the tied end with one hand and cupping the bottom carefully. He raises the sealed plastic to his face and grins in at me.
“I think I’m going to name you… Sebastian,” he says.
I swim back and forth happily. My name’s actually Monty, but what the heck. I can be Sebastian if he wants me to be.
“Sebastian,” the taller one scoffs from somewhere behind me.
“Sebastian,” Justin says firmly. “Now let’s get him a plastic tree.”
The taller one is hot and all, but I think I’m going to love Justin most of all.
I have written 48,296 of 150,000 words.
I am now 32.19% done!
no frills wordmeter
Timeframe: Post Season Five
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1303
This is for jackieb78, who wouldn't stop talking about this premise, and who needs a smile right now. I hope you like it, Jackie.
The Hazards of Allowing Brian Kinney To Have a Pet
By Severina
* * *
My life is pretty boring.
I swim around. And then I swim around. And then I swim around some more. Once a day somebody from the pet store drops a little food into the tank, and then I cruise up with all the other goldfish and betas and have a bite to eat. Then I swim some more. Occasionally I’ll hide behind the plastic green tree. But the other fish don’t seem to get the “seek” part of “hide and seek”. You know that thing that humans say about us: that goldfish only have a two second memory? I think that’s true of the losers I have the misfortune to be sharing this tank with.
I’d love to get out and see the world. I watch all the happy families coming in, moms and dads (and sometimes dads and dads, or moms and moms) with kids in tow. Do they ever come over to my tank? Nooooo. They always head straight for the fluffy little kittens and the rambunctious little puppies. Those mutts have an unfair advantage. Can a goldfish make cute little melty eyes like a cocker spaniel? I think not. Can a goldfish give off a pathetic little meow that practically screams ‘take me home, feed me, love me’?” No. All I can do is pucker my mouth and flap my gills. I don’t have a chance.
This Tuesday had been much like any other in my life. Swim. Swim. Eat. Swim. Rinse and repeat. Tedious. I bore even myself. Various couples and groups had made their way past my tank throughout the day, heading for the pups and kittens, or occasionally for the lizards. It got so I didn’t even pay attention when I saw them walk by. They’re just a sea of legs and torsos that go by in a blur. I had just about decided to take a nap, when I noticed that two people had actually stopped. Right in front of my tank.
I didn’t want to get my hopes up, so I tried to casually swim toward the top of the tank so I could hear better.
“--ian, come on,” the shorter one says. He’s wearing a grey cotton jersey, and gesturing with his hands. I can’t help but notice the dried paint under his nails. “You’ll like a cat.”
I knew it.
“Cat hair on the furniture, cat hair on my clothes,” the taller one says, ticking off his complaints on his long fingers. “Cat hair on my duvet…”
I like the tall one. I swim closer to the side of the tank and wiggle my tail seductively.
“They’re not that bad,” the smaller one mutters.
I start concentrating on the tall one, using every bit of mental power I possess. Cats are messy, I try to tell him psychically. They’re ugly and they scratch furniture and they track litter all over the house. And they spray!
The tall one leans down to look into my tank. If I could wink at him, I would. He’s a handsome devil, as humans go. He taps a finger tentatively on the glass, and the betas scatter. Little wimps. “We’re getting a fish,” he says firmly.
We’re getting a fish. Music to my ears! Not a cat, not a dog, not a lizard… a FISH. I can barely control myself. I swim eagerly around the tank waiting for the stupid pet store human to get her ass in gear. After what seems like a century she finally arrives, carrying that little green net.
“Which one do you want?” she asks my soon-to-be owners.
The handsome one shrugs. “Justin?”
And the smaller one -- Justin -- just crosses his arms over his chest. “Like I give a fuck,” he mutters. “It’s your stupid fish.” I see the salesgirl blink in surprise as she turns away from them to remove the mesh cover and dip the net into my tank.
Me! Pick me! I swim eagerly to the surface and dive for the swooping net. And I miss. Fuck! The other goldfish scatter like the stupid twits they are, tails swishing frantically as they try to avoid the net. To avoid it! I try to track the path of the net so I can anticipate where it will swoop next, but the stupid human is just thrusting it through the water aimlessly. I swim as fast as I can into its path and….
Noooooooo!
Not Harold! Not Harold you stupid bitch!
I watch sorrowfully as Harold flops about in the net before he’s dropped into the water-filled plastic bag. The incompetent moron of a salesgirl ties a knot in the end of the bag before handing it off to Justin, who takes it with a scowl directed at Harold.
“Do you need any supplies or--” is all I hear before I let myself drift dejectedly to the bottom of the tank.
* * *
“I still can’t believe you did that,” Justin says as he pushes open the door to the pet store.
“What?” Brian asks innocently. “I just wanted to see what would happen.”
“You do not put E in a fish tank!” Justin looks around to make sure no one heard him --the last thing they need is for the store to refuse to sell them another fish, or charge them with animal cruelty or something. He grabs Brian’s arm and steers him toward the back of the store.
“I thought he’d just get… very happy.”
“Yeah, well, you thought wrong,” Justin says. “He just got dead.”
“Look,” Brian says, “I’ve already apologized. I’ve already said I’ll buy you another fish. Which,” he adds, “is pretty magnanimous of me considering you said that fish was mine to begin with.”
Justin snorts. “You never changed the water. You never added in the conditioner. You never talked to him at all.”
“It was a fish.”
“So? You think fish don’t need companionship?”
Brian nods. “That’s exactly what I think.”
“And that’s why this one is going to be kept in the bedroom where I can keep an eye on it,” Justin says.
“Ohhh, I don’t think so.”
Justin stops at the goldfish tank and looks down at the fish swimming mindlessly in the water. “And you’re not going to go near him with any illegal substances,” Justin reminds him crossly.
Brian presses his lips together. “Yes, dear.”
* * *
They’re back.
I don’t want to get excited after my last disappointment, but I can’t help it. It’s not often a goldfish like me gets a second chance. I dart back in forth in front of the tank, swimming toward Justin and then back to the handsome one. I wiggle my tail. I flap my gills. I practically dance in that water.
The salesgirl dips the net into the tank, swooping aimlessly again through the water. This time, I use the plastic tree to my advantage. I hide behind it until the last possible moment, then dart out like a bat out of hell.
I’m in! I’m in! The net leaves the water and for a moment I can’t breathe, can’t breathe, everything’s getting dark… oh mama… and then, hallelujah! I’m in the bag! I’M IN THE BAG!
Justin takes the bag gently, holding the tied end with one hand and cupping the bottom carefully. He raises the sealed plastic to his face and grins in at me.
“I think I’m going to name you… Sebastian,” he says.
I swim back and forth happily. My name’s actually Monty, but what the heck. I can be Sebastian if he wants me to be.
“Sebastian,” the taller one scoffs from somewhere behind me.
“Sebastian,” Justin says firmly. “Now let’s get him a plastic tree.”
The taller one is hot and all, but I think I’m going to love Justin most of all.
I have written 48,296 of 150,000 words.
I am now 32.19% done!
no frills wordmeter