hell_in_highheels | [oom] April Fool's Day

Entry tags:

captainryan,
oom

[oom] April Fool's Day

Oh, River is not a morning person, but this prank requires some dedication and preparation. She has her sonic screwdriver set to wake her an hour before the alarm, and she'd packed the blanket and the picnic basket the afternoon before while he was out running.

The matter of the prank itself is a simple few moments with the screwdriver on the red setting. Quick. Harmless. And best of all, reversible.

She still expects to get a bit of a hiding for it, but he did throw down the gauntlet. Her cheeks ache from grinning at the very thought of the look on his face when he figures out just what she'd done.

Prank accomplished, she slips into her boots and shushes Damocles, swearing him to silence. Rather, bribing him with future promises of bacon. She leaves the note on the pillow and catches herself just before she kisses him on the cheek. If he wakes, the surprise will be ruined before she can make her escape.

Dear Richard~

Have been kidnapped by rabbits. They said something about their pelts being used for "unseemly" purposes. Their leader says, if you ever want to see me again, come alone.

(crudely drawn map of the lake side and the meadow with an X)

Love,
~River

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River is already sitting down on the platform, her hands planted on either side of her hips as she kicks off her boots.

She wiggles her toes and gives him an arched eyebrow right back. "Maybe just curtains then. Little frilly curtains. With ducks on. Oh no, not ducks. Rabbits."

Richard gives her a look that says she's being silly.

"They're aren't any windows." He's eyeing her toes.

"Are you hungry?" He is, but that's hardly surprising.

She rolls her eyes at him.

"And yes, I could eat. What's that over there?"

She's walking, barefoot through the leaves, towards the bone pile, the bright ribbon of curiosity in her scent. She squats down and begins picking through the remains of his meals like, well, an archæologist, really.

"Discards," he answers, setting down the satchel and heading for the den. He climbs in halfway, rooting around among the blankets before emerging victorious with a sheathed knife.

Damocles.

Yes, sir? The dog comes to attention. He knows it's important if Captain's using his full name.

I want you to bring me the largest pieces of dry wood you can find, understood?

Yes, sir! Dam trots off with his mission.

That taken care of, Ryan heads for some trees that look like they'll make good spits.

"See if you can find a large, flat rock, would you?"

"Right." River sets down her hand full of rabbit bones, and carefully toes over a bleached femur. There are teeth marks and later she'll get measurements.

She roams the area a bit and comes back with a stone fitting that description, depositing it beside where he's clearly laying a fire.

She's a bit muddy, knees, feet and hands. But she looks perfectly content, if a bit on the chill side. "So it's rabbit for breakfast then?"

"No point in letting them go to waste. And these don't taste nearly as foul as the fire breathers. I believe it's fair play, seeing as how they got in your basket." He grins a little toothily.

"What all survived the attack?" He asks as Dam drags the first stick back towards him. Good dog.

River dusts her hands off and goes to retrieve the basket. She sits on the edge of the den and peruses the remains of her breakfast picnic.

"Some bread, some cheese. A bit of the bacon. None of the eggs. And the wine. The bottle's a bit of a mess but it's intact." She sounds disappointed all over again.

The spits are about down since there's not much to making them. River may have noticed, but there's no fire pit anywhere.

He doesn't cook out here.

"Nothing's been ruined, you know," he says to her, wiping splinters off the knife. "We have replacement protein. We had to move, but this is much more secluded than the valley."

Privacy screen or no, he doesn't think he would've been comfortable doing anything more than eating out there.

"Also, the bacon survived."

Bacon?

"Oh, that word you recognize?"

She noticed the lack of a fire pit before she even noticed the refuse pile.

She watches him work, idly picking bits of shredded wicker out of the linens. At his words, there's a shift in her scent.

needwanthopedesirelove

"Is the fire going to be offend your..." she taps the side of her nose.

"Well, I'll just stand upwind, won't I?" He gives her a soft smile before going after the first rabbit.

Dam drags practically a log towards them. All right, now smaller bits, Dam.

Yes, sir!

"Do you know how to build a fire?"

She gives him a perplexed look. And then there's a light in her eyes.

"Show me?"

"Uh." His hands are full of rabbit at the moment.

"Uh, first set those two logs parallel to each other."

He can talk her through it, right?

"Oh so not a survival lesson then."

Luckily, she has a sonic screwdriver. She pulls it out and waggles it at him with a wink.

"Don't worry. I think I can handle this."

That gets her a curious look. He...supposes she can start the fire with that, but that still doesn't mean she knows how to build one.

He has to watch what he's doing with the knife, too, though. He's getting the innards out now and tosses Dam the liver after the dog adds another stick to the growing pile.

Tiny sticks at the bottom. Little sticks in a cone around that, plenty of room to breathe. Medium sticks in a cone around that. And a tripod of the larger logs around the whole lot.

She leans back and surveys her handiwork.

There's a little flash of red light and a thin ribbon of smoke is rising. She pockets the screwdriver and looks across at his own contribution, seemingly unperturbed by the whole process.

"Cheat," Richard teases as he starts spitting the first rabbit. That's enough wood, Dam.

"I don't think there's much point in starting the bacon till your rabbit gets underway. I've almost got it set."

His will be rather less cooked.

She works her way over to where he's working and runs her hands across his shoulders, needing to touch him.

"Thank you. For bringing me here."

He stands up a little straighter so she doesn't have to stretch so much.

"Not at all." He's glad she doesn't mind the condition of the place. He turns under her hands, gives her a kiss tasting faintly of blood - he's been licking his fingers - and smiles. "I'm happy to do so."

She barely registers the coppery taste alongside the taste of his mouth. She nuzzles against his chin, snuffling all the way to his ear. "Can we stay the night? Or is it too cold still?"

Richard gives her a wry smile.

"I don't think it would hold up to that much movement."

That gets a ten thousand volt grin out of her.

"Point taken."

He waggles his eyebrows at her, then hands over the spitted rabbit.

"That's yours, I believe."

She takes the spit, giving the carcass a bit of a speculative glance. "Thanks." She eyes the other carcasses he's skinned and sees that hers is the only spit. Her eyes go a bit wide, her scent a mixture of curiosity and mild disgust. "Are they tastier that way?"

Ryan's face is carefully blank as he holds up the second spit.

"I hadn't gotten that far yet," he says mildly, not answering her question. He was going to at least warm his up first. Now he'll probably cook it a bit more than he planned on.

"Oh of course," she says. "I suppose they've been down long enough to be unpalatable. I imagine they're better while they're still warm."

She sees the look in his eyes, and tilts her head at him, her smile soft and apologetic. "That was tactless of me, wasn't it?"

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