((Hi guys! AjaxRota wrote a great wartime fic and it inspired me to rip this little story out. I recommend you read Down These Red Skies first for some context to this fic)). s/11682469/1/Down-These-Red-Skies ))
When he heard the mail truck Chance headed out into the lot in front of the garage and received a large package from the mail Kat. "Jake! They're here!" Chance shouted as he carried the package inside.
Jake's head pops up out of the body of a Katillac. "Great! Do you think your mom sent any of those chocolate peanut clusters?" he asks eagerly.
"She always does," Chance replies. He sets the box down on the work table and starts hunting the pegs on the wall for a razor knife.
"I can taste them already," Jake says happily as Chance cuts the tape holding the box together. On top is some crumpled paper which is quickly removed so they can get to the good stuff. The two toms dig in eagerly, pulling out baggies of haystacks, tuna twists, nut clusters, and kibble krunchies. There are brightly wrapped packages underneath the home made goodies. There was a new red ball cap and some work gloves for Jake, and two packages of tighty-whities for Chance ("Aw, crud mom! Every year!"). A couple books and some store bought chocolate bars were tucked in between the box walls and a square package in the bottom.
It was addressed to Chance and the tom grins. "Maybe she actually got me something I asked for this year," he says hopefully.
Jake is removing the tag from his new hat with a sharp claw and he looks up at Chance with curiosity. "What'd you ask her for?"
"Same thing I ask for every year," he replies, elbow deep into the box.
Jake rolls his eyes. "She's not gonna fit a Kraftkats tool chest in there, Hotshot," he points out as Chance eagerly rips the paper away from the package.
He blinks, and stares down at the object in his hands. "Hey, what is this?" he questions, as he turns it towards his partner. Jake blinks at the sight: An old, old portrait photograph in a brown leather frame.
A few minutes later both Kats are at the kitchen table, Jake digging through the rest of the box and Chance leaning in to stare at the image. The frame the picture was mounted in was cracked and the dabs of gold paint that used to illuminate the tooling was flaking off. Jake is digging out all the packing paper and checking each fold.
"Did you find a card, buddy?" Chance asks.
"Nope, nothing. She musta forgot to put in the Christmas letter this year," he replies, and they both lean over the photograph again. "I'll bet it'll follow later. She probably threw it in an envelope. It'll be here next week," Jake tries to assure him, though Chance still looks disconsolate about the mystery.
Jake tilts his head to the side and eyes the photograph again. "You sure you got no idea?" he asks, and Chance shakes his head, his chin cupped in his hand.
Jake looks down at the photograph again. "This is old," he comments and Chance nods.
"Yeah... Mega War Two? Maybe?" Chance guesses. The photograph was of a fairly young, slender tom. His hat was riding a little too low over his eyes, testimony to the fact it didn't fit right. The shirt he was wearing hung a bit on his shoulders and the collar was a little loose, though it was neatly pressed for his going-away-to-war picture.
"Any family in Mega War Two?" Jake presses and Chance glances up.
"Yeah, but half the toms in the country were. I don't know which one this is," he replies.
"Anything written on the back?" Jake suggests, and Chance flips it over and twists it this way and that under the light, looking for a telltale sheen from ink or pencil.
"Nope. Nothing. But-" he pops out a claw and starts carefully opening up the back of the frame.
When it comes off, Jake says an exultant "Bingo!" and they nearly clunk heads trying to make out the spidery-thin script on the back of the photograph.
"Pvt. William Furlong... Kill... Killed in action... on... wha? By the Red Lynx!" Chance exclaims.
"Ooooh, what's the story behind this?" Jake asks wonderingly.
Chance shakes his head. "I don't know, buddy... I don't remember ever hearing about this guy before." He carefully lifts the photograph out of the frame and turns it over, to look back into the face. "Wow...A Furlong went head to head against the Red Lynx," he sighs, eyes starry. "What I wouldn't of given to be in that cockpit..."
Jake snorts, as he's stuffing packing paper back into the box. "Oh yeah, and be dead. Great plan pal."
Chance isn't listening as he looks down at the long, unknown relative. "Wow...Can't wait to hear more about this from mom..."
"Yeah it's cool alright," Jake agrees, idly.
Chance's expression brightens and he puts the picture back into the frame, gets up, tucks it under his arm and bee lines back towards the garage. Jake looks up in surprise. "Uh…. Buddy?" He questions Chance's disappearing form but the bigger tom keeps going. Jake shakes his head, picks up the box and starts to follow Chance out intending to chuck the box into the dumpster, only to have to crush himself against the wall when his partner comes charging back with a hammer.
"What are you doing?" Jake asks. He drops the box and follows Chance deeper into the apartment.
Chance stops midway down the hall that leads back towards the bedrooms and fishes a nail out of his breast pocket. They'd been using that space to hang pictures of their families since they'd moved into the garage.
"Putting this where it belongs," Chance says firmly. Jake watches as he hangs the old photo and stands back, admiring. "Perfect," he says, even as he's reaching out again to gently straighten the frame. "My relative, who took on the Red Lynx, the baddest pilot of Mega War Two… can't wait to learn more about him! This is the best Christmas present ever."
