Plot - FB challenge as below
Ship - Boyd Grace
Rating - T for language only.
Disclaimer - I own nothing to do with WTD, no copyright infringement intended.
A big thankyou to ShadowSamurai83 for the Beta.
The Laws of Love and Rage – A Facebook Challenge.
Title of the book must feature in the story, must have a swimming pool, and a dog, someone must say, you have a fan. Post Waterloo, less than 1000 words.
o0o
"Argh, fuck!"
"What now?"
"I just tripped over something and hurt my bloody foot."
"Is it okay?"
"No, it bloody hurts."
"Will you live?"
"Very funny."
"I'll take that as a yes then."
He stopped rubbing his foot and bent down to retrieve what he'd tripped over. "The Laws of Love and Rage by Doctor Grace Foley, she obviously loved the book," he said sarcastically as he placed it back against the door it was propping open. "Remind me again, why we're doing this?"
"Because I volunteered us for it."
"Oh yes, you volunteered us for it. I thought we were meant to be enjoying our retirement."
"Boyd?"
"What?"
"Shut up will you, you moaned all the way here."
"I just don't understand why we are spending our two week vacation doing this."
"We're retired, Boyd, we can go on a vacation any time. Frankie had booked to go away, she didn't know this was going to happen."
"She's a bloody scientist, how could she not work out that if you put a male and female dog together you're going to end up with puppies."
"Shh, you'll frighten them." Grace pulled back a curtain that led to a space beneath the stairs, in a small box sat mother and babies.
Frankie had two dogs, both Spaniel's named Millie and Boyd, who was known as little Boyd. Millie had given birth two weeks ago to five puppies.
"They're gorgeous, aren't they?"
"Are they? I mean, yes, they are," Boyd replied, a confused expression on his face as he looked at them.
Suddenly there was a growling sound from behind them. "Ah, that will be little Boyd."
"And that's another thing, why did she name her dog after me?"
"Well, in Frankie's words, he has a strange charm but can be quite grumpy. Oh and don't worry, his bark's worse than his bite, apparently."
"That's not funny." With not even a hint of humour in his voice.
"It wasn't meant to be, it's what she told me when I asked her the same question."
"So how do you stop him from growling and looking like he wants to eat us?"
"Well, a dog treat usually gets his attention, although he is quite partial to having his belly rubbed, something else you have in common," she replied with a smile, she gave little Boyd a dog treat and he forgot all about trying to bite his name sake.
It was late and dark when they arrived, leaving them very little time to find their bearings. Frankie had stocked the cupboards with food, and put clean sheets on the bed for them, so they simply ate and went to bed.
As she climbed into bed, Boyd was sat inspecting his foot. "Are you still moaning about your bloody foot?"
"It's bruised. Why don't you write smaller books? It wouldn't hurt so much."
"Let me see."
He stretched his leg across the bed, revealing his foot with a small purple looking bruise just beginning to show up.
"Is that it?"
"What do you mean, is that it? It really hurt."
Grace spent a couple of minutes massaging his foot, trying to appease him, before getting into bed and turning the lights out.
"Frankie says we can have one if we want."
"No!"
"What? Why not? I'd quite like one."
"No Grace, it will crap on the floor, bark all night, and require me to take it for a walk after you've given it some stupid poncy bloody name like Fifi, so no, we're not having one."
"Okay," she replied.
"What? That's it? Okay? You're not going to argue?"
"Nope," she replied, knowing full well she had him wrapped around her finger and before the end of the next two weeks, he would be choosing and naming their new puppy.
Boyd put his arms around her waist and she reached up and kissed him. "Good night." Boyd's hands wandered up from her waist, he kissed her neck as his hands gently massaged her breasts through her pyjama top. She put her hands over his. "No, Boyd, not in Frankie's bed."
"You are kidding me."
"Nope."
"But we're here for two weeks, Grace, in Frankie's bed."
"Yep I know, and trust me, time will fly by."
"So Frankie gets to sit by a swimming pool in scorching heat, sipping sangria, whilst I get to clean up after her whining, smelly puppies and to top it all off, I'm not even allowed to have sex?"
"Yep, that's about it."
"I've had enough, I'm going home. At least at home I can relieve my sexual tension in the comfort of my own bed."
"Can you make sure you change the sheets before I get back then?"
"Piss off, Grace," he replied. She knew full well that he wouldn't leave her alone, he simply sulked off downstairs and slept on the sofa.
The next morning Grace sat drinking tea whilst he was still fast asleep on the sofa, little Boyd curled up with him, and she couldn't help but smile.
"Don't watch me sleep, Grace, it's not polite."
"No, but it is enjoyable."
"So is sex, but if I can't do that you can't watch me sleep."
"It's only two weeks."
"You said this was a holiday, and now I can't even get a shag."
"Stop sulking, it doesn't suit you. But then again..."
"Ha bloody ha, and why is this sodding smelly dog on here?"
"You've got a fan, clearly."
"I don't want a fan, and no, we're not having one."
"Okay."
Two weeks later.
"It's nice to be back home, isn't it?" he said, rolling onto his back in his own bed, slightly out of breath.
"Happy now, are we?"
"Absolutely. I guess we all got what we wanted in the end," he replied, looking at the small brown and white bundle of fur sleeping soundly in the corner of the room, a little name tag around his neck with the name Alfie engraved on it.