A friend promoted me with: "Bard and Finny (platonic) Bard trying to teach Finny to shoot a gun." Which is such a cute idea! I love cute Phantomhive servants! I used Bard, Finny and Mey Rin as their names in this piece.

It was a good day, sunny enough to encourage a person to wander outside when they had the time. The bad thing about days like this was if you sat outside the wind would most likely steal your time and you'd find yourself late for something. Probably something important but the wind was a mischievous thief. It would take one person's time and give it to another, someone far away from them. And perhaps that's what happened to the servants of Phantomhive.

"There!" Mey Rins voice proclaimed and slammed the trunk lid down.

With her hands still touching wood, she realizes something.

"That's it." That was all that needed to be done. She wanders into the kitchen and she sees Bard open and closing cabinets, writing things down on a tiny pad of paper. He closes the last door and leans back looking at this list.

"Well I guess that's it for…" He blinks confused. He turns and the two of them lock eyes.

They wander outside. Finny is sitting and staring at a butterfly that is gathering nectar from one of the flowers. As the other two approach, it flies away.

"Oh hey!" He waves at them over enthusiastically.

"Finny, do…ya have anythin' else ta do?" And that's when Finny realizes he doesn't.

So they sit on the ground next to each other looking up at the clouds. With Sebastian around they didn't have many chores, the ones they did have usually take some time but this was a first.

Free time. It seemed to be a two part swear word. It left them uncomfortable.

"Ya think we should check the artillery again?" Bard tosses out.

Seemed to be a good of an idea as anything else.

…

Normally Finny doesn't go into this part of the basement. Crates of ammunition and spare parts are stacked up; this was always more of Mey's and Bard's space.

"Here Finny hold this." he's handed over a rifle. Mey Rin and Bard start to remove lids off of crates and he stands there awkwardly holding the gun.

Given his strength he's never needed guns. Strange creation, designed only for death or pain. But in this perhaps, he had a kinship with the weapon.

"Ey Finny, doncha know how to hold a gun?" Bard was of course teasing, but the look he got back indicated that indeed no, Finny did not.

"Say I don't suppose ya want to learn to use one of those?"

"Oui now there's an idea, yes it is! Out with the two of you and go bond!" Mey Rin was giggling and pushing them out of the basement and back into the lazy afternoon.

…

Finny sat on a bench and Bard walked back and forth in front of him, thinking.

"The thing ta remember about a gun is that ya shouldn't point it at somethin' unless you intend to do it harm. Guns are good at what they do but bad at it….no wait…"

Finny watches the older man continue his marching.

"See, guns are fulla problems, Mey Rins rifles are special made and 'cause of the master we get a lot of prototypes of other kinds'a weapons but they can back fire, so safety and respect is first."

"RIGHT."

"Good, next ya gotta learn the proper way ta hold it. Come 'er."

Finny's hands and arms were run through a drill of how to walk with the gun, hold it, and brace it against his shoulder.

More complex and yet at the same time more simple then he imagined it was.

He was eager to please, a quick study. He had a respect for Bard, one that he hoped was returned, Mey Rin and Bard were a bit like siblings or an Uncle and Aunt. Their unit was hard to put into words. Family of some kind. Patch worked and loyal. He wasn't sure, sometimes, where he fit into it. He couldn't easily run up to Mey Rin and hug her, he might break her. Couldn't toss things to Bard if he helped in the kitchen- might break the oven or Bard himself because the toss had too much force. Even as he lined up his sight on the rifle he was tensing and having to loosen his hands, least he crack the fore-stock.

"A'right lets try some target shootin'…ya alright with that?"

Bard looks at him, a little concerned. One thing to hold a gun in theory and another to shoot it.

Finny couldn't imagine killing something with it, "As long as it's not…uh…"

"Right, Right I hear ya." His hair gets rustled by Bards rough hands.

The target is a crudely painted rag tied around a tree.

"A little more level Finny." Bard is leaning and looking at his level. Eyeing the bulls eye.

He has to loosen up his grip. He's got to counter act his own instincts to tense up beyond the capacity of the tool in his hands.

The jab in his shoulder from the butt wouldn't let him forget himself.

Breathing.

The crack is loud. Echoing outward and it swarms his head.

"EY! Not bad!" Finny thinks that's what Bard said anyway, it was hard to hear, the ringing was loud. It faded away quickly enough. They walked together to check the target.

"Not bad at all!" It was at the very edge of the rag but it had hit the target.

"Some starters don't even hit the target at all."

Finny wasn't sure how to feel about that, but he felt proud to make Bard so happy.

…

She had heard the crack of the gun a few times. Then sometimes the excited yell of Finny or Bard. When Mey Rin finally left the basement, seemed like the wind took the hours away. The sun had moved by leaps and dinner was going to be needed soon. She stood at the entrance steps to the basement, she could tell they were close, looking around she pushed up her glasses and looked around. They were just a little away from where she was standing now. She looked at the target, with her sharp eyes. Not bad. She walked over to them.

"EY Ya hit the bulls eye!"

Finny was excited for that, laughing. She liked his laugh; he was the only one that laughed around here that still seemed like it was full of joy. So often you could hear the sadness people had in their laughs.

She grinned and asked,"How'd it go?"

"He's a natural! Might give ya a run for your money in a few years Mey, best watch out."

She smiled, "Eh of course! Little Finny is fulla talent, yes he is!" She hugged him and ruffled up his hair.

The sound of someone clearing their throat broke up the happy huddle and they turned to see Sebastian with a look of somewhat forced calmness.

"Ah, I'd hate to interrupt but isn't it about time to-"

"AIYE SIR, YES SIR." The three of them salute and take off to start preparations for the evening. Sebastian sighed and had to pick which one he would chase after fist, not having given any of them their chores for dinner before they took off in different directions.