(Untitled)

[theguthries]

Characters: Sam & Wee!Ben
Date & Time: long ago and far away
Setting: Las Vegas, Nevada
Summary: You see, there are birds, and then there are bees...
Rating: PG-13 for content
Status: Closed

If you had asked Sam Guthrie five years ago what he would be doing with his life at this point, he'd reply honestly and admit that he'd likely be working in the coal

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[staticsnap]

The thing that no one told you about the dessert was that it was cold. Not just button-up-your-parka cold but real, honest temperature drops that could turn nasty if one got lost overnight and was forced to stay out in the vast, unbroken plains that existed beyond the edges of the city. Ben had spent a night out there once, camping with Jay and Sam. The entire concept had seemed a bit strange to the born-and-partly-bred city slicker: why on earth would anyone sleep outside? Especially willingly? When it required thermal sleeping bags? That was insane, even if the stars had burned like a thousand torches, spectacular and bright

[theguthries]

It was a good thing that Sam was a guard, and not a spy; because the fact that he didn't hear, or care that another person was attacking, and then attaching themselves to his side would have meant death. The coffee was almost done however, and Sam had his priorities. Even with Ben attached to his side, Sam continued to slowly move about the kitchen in a semi-robotic fashion. Slowly he poured a cup for himself, a diluted cup for Ben (he was 11, the boy didn't need the black mess that Sam drank) and started the oven, letting it heat up for whatever he decided to throw in it later.

"I haven't showered yet." Came his first reply, several minutes after the first attack and questions. Adding after a moment and checking his own feet to be certain that it was his socks they were referring to.

"Happens at night.

It wasn't much of a defense, but it would do. Especially at this time of morning.

[staticsnap]

Ben was getting good at this. Since Sam was more or less a zombie until his third cup of coffee, there was no reasoning with him. If Ben wanted to grab anything from the kitchen, it was either abandon the warmth provided by the other man's body heat or use his cunning reflexes to snatch what he needed as they passed. It was a bit like lining up a bow to a target. Ben's aim? Was pristineThe boy deftly grabbed the sugar bowl as Sam took down two mugs, then snagged a spoon from the cutlery drawer as they passed, not relinquishing his grip on the rumpled, grimy t-shirt that Sam was sporting. Once they came to a stop, Ben squinted down at the elder Guthrie's mismatched feet. "Huh," Ben huffed. He'd never heard of socks going on night maneuvers but it explained a lot. They always seemed to come back from the laundromat with uneven numbers

[theguthries]

Peggy. That was her name. While it may not have been spelled directly with an 'ie', the sound was there. He was close enough at the end of the day with that.

There needed to be a sugar invented that didn't have the same properties as actual sugar, because if that exist Sam would have bought up so much stock, the bosses would be impressed. As each spoonful of the white crystal was added to Ben's mug, Sam could see more, and more wired-ness enter the boy. Before long he'd be bouncing, possibly literally.

"Talk?" Sam finally asked, having found his seat at the kitchen table to claim. If he'd been more awake, perhaps he would have caught himself. At least, he'd hope later on that he would have.