Alter/Native
Title: That Damn Salamander
Word Count: 409
Crossposted: HERE at runaway-tales
"Do you have any idea how long it took me to find that salamander?" Kestrel whined the moment she stepped out of the stairwell. A handful of sodden vacationers exited behind her and gave the frustrated redhead a wide berth as they scurried for the front doors, no doubt startled and confused both by their rude awakening and her obvious indifference to the severity of their situation. Only Matthew stayed behind, holding a matching umbrella over his own head, looking sleep-deprived and wholly irritated. "I mean, really, I just needed to get it into his room and he would have hatched the damn thing."
"Just not your day, I guess," he said, putting his free arm around her shoulders as they crossed the lobby together, their shoes swishing through the inch of water that had gathered on the tiled floor. "But look on the bright side, we -"
"Matty, I spent sixty-three hours arranging this whole fiasco. I had to let a four hundred pound redneck sweat on me just to get a room key." She chewed her bottom lip as they stepped out into the parking lot, dodging a group of firemen that were on their way in. "Must have been the smoking," she muttered to herself. "I should have accounted for that."
"How were you expecting him to go up, if it wasn't the smoking?" Matthew asked, opening the trunk so she could slip her suitcase inside.
"I was going to set him on fire," she said simply, slamming the trunk and heading for the passenger door. When the latch didn't pop, she looked over the top of the car expectantly and found Matthew staring back at her, appalled. "What?"
"You were going to set him on fire?"
"I believe that's what I said, yes."
"Kes, that's murder."
"And?"
"And it's illegal."
"So is operating a vehicle without a license, but you seem to have gotten around that nicely," she mentioned, flashing him a brilliant smile. He simply squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose, a common habit for him after spending seven months as her partner.
"That's different," he said wearily.
"He was going to die anyway. I don't see what the problem is."
"The problem is... No, never mind, you're right. Not a problem." He popped the doors and slipped into the car, and waited for her to settle in beside him before asking, "What's next on your list?"
Word Count: 409
Crossposted: HERE at runaway-tales
"Do you have any idea how long it took me to find that salamander?" Kestrel whined the moment she stepped out of the stairwell. A handful of sodden vacationers exited behind her and gave the frustrated redhead a wide berth as they scurried for the front doors, no doubt startled and confused both by their rude awakening and her obvious indifference to the severity of their situation. Only Matthew stayed behind, holding a matching umbrella over his own head, looking sleep-deprived and wholly irritated. "I mean, really, I just needed to get it into his room and he would have hatched the damn thing."
"Just not your day, I guess," he said, putting his free arm around her shoulders as they crossed the lobby together, their shoes swishing through the inch of water that had gathered on the tiled floor. "But look on the bright side, we -"
"Matty, I spent sixty-three hours arranging this whole fiasco. I had to let a four hundred pound redneck sweat on me just to get a room key." She chewed her bottom lip as they stepped out into the parking lot, dodging a group of firemen that were on their way in. "Must have been the smoking," she muttered to herself. "I should have accounted for that."
"How were you expecting him to go up, if it wasn't the smoking?" Matthew asked, opening the trunk so she could slip her suitcase inside.
"I was going to set him on fire," she said simply, slamming the trunk and heading for the passenger door. When the latch didn't pop, she looked over the top of the car expectantly and found Matthew staring back at her, appalled. "What?"
"You were going to set him on fire?"
"I believe that's what I said, yes."
"Kes, that's murder."
"And?"
"And it's illegal."
"So is operating a vehicle without a license, but you seem to have gotten around that nicely," she mentioned, flashing him a brilliant smile. He simply squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose, a common habit for him after spending seven months as her partner.
"That's different," he said wearily.
"He was going to die anyway. I don't see what the problem is."
"The problem is... No, never mind, you're right. Not a problem." He popped the doors and slipped into the car, and waited for her to settle in beside him before asking, "What's next on your list?"