A/N: Now, normally, I don't write sequels to others' fics without their permission, but my good friend Vulaan Kulaas gave me the okay to do a story that comes right after her one-shot "Powerful Friendship, Iron Bond" (which was her birthday gift to me :D). You can consider this as another side story to Blazin' Trails, as the original fic had a few references to it.
Anyway, enjoy!
Title: Ricochet's Day Off
Category: Hanna-Barbera
Rating: K (friendship fluff this time around)
Genre: Western/Humor/Friendship
Summary: Even the fastest workaholic daredevil in the West needs an off day. A side-story to Blazin' Trails and a sequel to Vulaan Kulaas' fic "Powerful Friendship, Iron Bond".
Disclaimer: It goes without saying that I don't own Ricochet Rabbit and Droop-a-Long.
Ricochet's Day Off
"Oh, don't worry, Mr. Ricochet. I'll get that for ya."
"Droop-a-Long, I can put it up thar myself. I'm not helpless."
"Ya sure? I mean it's a bit outta reach for ya when you're not standin' on your tiptoes."
"Droop-a-Long..."
"The last thing you'd wanna do is make your injuries worse by movin' around a lot..."
"Droop-a-Long..."
Droop-a-Long held up his hands in surrender at the glare that was being sent his way. "Okay, okay, I'll stop," he said. "But ya did say that I could take care of ya today."
"I know what I said, Droop, but your frettin' over me is gettin' annoyin'," Ricochet answered. "I'm not injured to the point where I can't walk. I jus' have to take it easy an'..."
"Go slow?" Droop-a-Long offered.
"Yeah...go slow." Those were two words he'd never thought he'd hear out of his own mouth. "Hopefully, these bruises should disappear in a couple o' days. The last thin' I need is to slow down durin' a chase or somethin'."
"I know," Droop-a-Long said. "That's why today you're gonna relax an' not do anythin' that requires a lot of energy."
Ricochet groaned. "Reckon I'll have ta take ping-pong off my list," he said.
"Ya can still play ping-pong, Mr. Ricochet. I'll play with ya, since you normally play by yourself," Droop-a-Long answered.
"Last time you played ping-pong, Droop, you broke a window in the store across from us," Ricochet pointed out.
Droop-a-Long scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. "Yeah...I'm not exactly the best ping-pong player in the world," he admitted. "But I reckon you challengin' yourself would make your bruises worse. You have to leap all over the room to do it."
Ricochet sighed. "I guess you're right about that, Droop-a-Long. We'll have a match of ping-pong later, providin' it won't hurt me too much," he answered. "But if you break another window in that store across the street, you're payin' for it instead of blamin' it on me."
Droop-a-Long looked offended. "Well, what was I supposed to do, jus' stand there while the fella was tryin' to shoot me?" he demanded.
"...you bring up another good point, Deputy." Ricochet then turned to survey the office. "Now, let's go over the checklist, Droop-a-Long."
Droop-a-Long nodded. "I disconnected the phones, told the folks down at the telegraph office to hold yer letters 'til tomorrow, an' put the sign on the back door."
"An' the last thin' is put the sign on the front door," Ricochet answered. He handed the sign in question to Droop-a-Long. "Since you're so eager ta do it, I'll let you do it."
"Okay, Mr. Ricochet." Droop-a-Long closed the door, and nailed the sign to the front door. The sign read in black letters "Closed for Today-Come Back Tomorrow". Droop-a-Long smiled as he surveyed his handiwork. "I think that'll get the message across, right, Mr. Ricochet?"
"I sure hope so," Ricochet said. "Let's head back in the office an' get ready."
"Sure thing." Droop-a-Long turned the doorknob, only for it not to turn. His eyes widened. "Uh-oh..."
"Whaddya mean, 'uh-oh'?"
"...Reckon I locked the door from the inside by accident."
"Droop-a-Long!"
Ten minutes later...
Ricochet sighed as he looked at himself in the mirror. He'd traded in his favorite black and orange-starred vest for a brown long-sleeve shirt and a pair of light blue jeans. His beloved purple hat was also gone, exposing his ruffled top fur; thankfully, he had a black hat in his closet. Droop-a-Long had told him that purple would clash with his outfit, and he needed something black to complete the look. He'd had no idea that Droop-a-Long knew so much about coordinating outfits, but after taking a look at it himself, he had to admit that Droop-a-Long was right. He supposed that he got that from spending time with a certain she-rabbit.
Ricochet fluffed the top of his hair, frowning as he felt how coarse it was. His fur was also getting longer than he'd checked it last. "It's high time I get myself a haircut..."
"Hey, Mr. Ricochet, are ya ready to go?" Droop-a-Long shouted from downstairs.
"Yeah, Droop-a-Long," Ricochet said, once more examining himself. "Jus' double-checkin'."
"You've been double checkin' for ten minutes, Mr. Ricochet!" Droop-a-Long replied.
"Alright, I'm comin', Droop!" Ricochet put on the black hat, and made his way downstairs, wincing slightly as the bruises on his back started to flare up again. "Geez..." When he got downstairs, he saw Droop-a-Long standing at the doorway, wearing a white and gray button down and dark blue jeans. He'd forgone the hat. "Are those new clothes ya got, Droop?"
"Yeah. Denise got 'em for me for my birthday," Droop-a-Long said.
"Well, they look nice, Droop-a-Long."
"Thanks, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long replied. "Reckon you're glad I chose yer outfit for ya, huh?"
"Yeah. I would've been a fashion disaster," Ricochet said. "Come on, Droop. Before we go anywhere else, we're headin' for the barbershop. I need a haircut!"
"I woulda told ya to get it, but I know how ya are," Droop-a-Long said, making his way out the door.
"Do you have the keys this time, Droop-a-Long?" Ricochet asked.
"Yup." Droop-a-Long dug in his pocket and held up the object in question. "With yer scoldin' from earlier, it was hard to forget 'em."
"Good, Now then," Ricochet said, stepping out of the office and closing the door, "let's stop dawdlin' an' get goin'!"
"Howdy, Sheriff! Wow, it's odd to see ya in anythin' other than yer vest an' badge," the barber said before turning his attention towards his customer's hair.
"It feels odd jus' wearin' these," Ricochet answered. He carefully climbed into the barber's chair, taking care not to wince too much. He already had Droop-a-Long worried about him; the last thing he wanted was the townspeople fussing over him.
"Well, I'd have ta say, you do have a good sense of style after all, Sheriff!"
"After all?" Ricochet repeated. Off to his left, Droop-a-Long whistled innocently.
"Ah, never mind me. How'd you like your hair?"
Sending a small glare over to Droop-a-Long, Ricochet answered, "I'd like the usual, Bobby."
"Sure thing, Sheriff!" The apprentice barber started to assemble his tools to work on Ricochet's hair.
"What about you, Deputy?" the barber next to Bobby asked.
"Hmm...jus' a trim 'round the back, Artie. I'd like to look nice, 'specially for next week," Droop-a-Long said.
"How come? You hardly wear anythin' other than that hat," Artie pointed out.
"Well, occasionally I don't wear it," Droop-a-Long said. "Mostly for special occasions."
"Oh, I get it. You got someone special you're tryin' to impress, Deputy?" Bobby asked.
"Yeah," Ricochet interjected before Droop-a-Long could reply. His smile was sly as his deputy's face went slightly red. "It's none other than his gal back in California."
"Oh, is that right?" Artie looked down at his customer, curiosity in his eyes. "Is she cute?"
"She's more than cute; she's pretty," Droop-a-Long said. "An' she ain't yours for the takin', either, Artie. I know how ya are."
"Wow, never thought you'd get defensive, Deputy," Artie said.
"Hey, that's his woman. He's got a right to get defensive," Bobby said.
Ricochet chuckled. "This is the first time I've ever seen ya act like that about Denise, Droop," he said. "Then again, I can't talk, since I'd be the same way."
"Hey, how come you don't have a woman yet, Sheriff?" Bobby asked, trimming the hair around his ears. "I've heard that a lotta of 'em are hopin' to be 'Mrs. Ricochet' someday."
"Aw, well, I'm flattered, but I ain't interested in settlin' down yet," Ricochet said, cracking a smile. "'sides, almost everyone in town knows my one true love."
"Yeah, an' that's your job," Bobby laughed, cutting the sides of Ricochet's hair. "You might as well marry it." At this, laughter filled the room.
Droop-a-Long chuckled as well, but when he looked over at Ricochet, he saw the small, bittersweet smile on his face, which had gone unnoticed by the others. Almost immediately, his mirth disappeared; he'd almost completely forgotten that his best friend's love life wasn't something he liked to talk about. Clearing his throat, he said, "I wouldn't be too sure on that, fellers. I mean, there could be a pretty female-type person who'll win Mr. Ricochet over."
"Enough to make him stop lovin' his job?" Bobby asked.
"Well...I doubt it'll come to that. But the way y'all are makin' it sound, it sounds like he's gonna be alone forever, buried in his work," Droop-a-Long said. "I know that he's been like that as long as you've known 'im. But jus' you wait. Next time he comes in here, he's gonna be walkin' arm in arm with a cute gal."
Ricochet stared at Droop-a-Long, wide-eyed and pink-faced. "D-Droop-a-Long!" he sputtered. "What are you sayin'?!"
"Aw, come on, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long teased. "Don' tell me you weren't thinkin' about datin' again."
"Why, if I weren't in the middle of my haircut, I'd show ya jus' what I'm thinkin' about!" Ricochet growled, shaking a fist at Droop-a-Long. Droop-a-Long couldn't help but laugh.
Ten minutes later, Ricochet and Droop-a-Long left the barbershop, satisfied with their new haircuts. Ricochet huffed as he looked at Droop-a-Long. "I can't believe ya did that, Droop-a-Long!" he said. "In front of everyone in the barbershop, too!"
"Aw, I was jus' makin' a joke..."
"An' I didn't find it funny," Ricochet snapped, folding his arms. "You know how I am 'bout my love life, an' why I don't like talkin' about it."
"Sorry, Mr. Ricochet. I wasn't tryin' ta make ya angry, honest," Droop-a-Long said. "I was tryin' to make you feel better, since you looked a bit down." He offered a small, helpful smile. "I did mean what I said, though. You'll probably find a pretty gal one o' these days, Mr. Ricochet."
Ricochet sighed. "Well, when ya say that, it makes it hard for me to stay mad at ya," he answered. "Thanks for cheerin' me up a little, Droop-a-Long, but I reckon I'm not ready to go back into the datin' life yet."
"I gets it, Mr. Ricochet. I'll stop talkin' about it if it bothers ya," Droop-a-Long said.
"I'd appreciate that, Droop-a-Long," Ricochet said. "Now, there are two other places I aim to go today: the practice field, and the department store."
"The practice field? What for, Mr. Ricochet?" Droop-a-Long asked, following Ricochet to the borders of town.
"What for? Why, for trick shootin' o' course!" Ricochet replied, a grin on his face. "I always practice trick-shootin' on my days off. You can come, too, if ya want to."
"Well, I reckon I won't be hittin' my marks like you, Mr. Ricochet, but I'll try anyway."
"Is this alright, Mr. Ricochet?" Droop-a-Long asked warily, watching as his best friend put on a blindfold and held a mirror to his face. Behind him on the wooden fence was a row of twenty cans. He knew Ricochet was a daredevil, but this was taking it too far. "I wouldn't want ya to overdo it..."
"Of course it is, Droop. I did this trick before, remember?" he said. "This is the hardest way I know, an' it took me three years ta get right. Ya ready?"
"Fire away, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said. "Jus' be careful."
Ricochet smirked. "I appreciate the warnin', but I never miss, Droop." With that, Ricochet turned his gun in the direction of the farthest can and fired. Even with a blindfold on, his aim was flawless; the shot hit the can square in the middle and sent it cartwheeling off the fence. He turned his hand in rapid succession, knocking all the cans off.
Droop-a-Long stared in awe as the gunfire continued. He'd seen this more times than he could count, but it never ceased to amaze him. As the last can went careening behind a cactus, he asked, "How do ya do it, Mr. Ricochet?"
Ricochet blew the smoke off of his revolver, smiling proudly. "Nothin' more than clean livin', I reckon," he said, "as well as the steadiest eyes an' hands in the West."
Droop-a-Long rolled his eyes. "I betcha there are a few people who'd fight ya for that title, Mr. Ricochet," he said, taking his blindfold and the mirror.
"An' I betcha I can beat 'em," Ricochet said. "Now it's your turn, Droop-a-Long." He turned towards the table with an array of guns, and held out a pistol for Droop-a-Long. "You ready?"
"Okay," Droop-a-Long said. "I'm aimin' at the target over yonder.."
"You mean that outlaw back there?" Ricochet asked, pointing at a drawing of an outlaw pinned on a cactus. Drawn on the left side of his chest was a target circle. "Well, good luck, Droop. Ya did say you wanted to practice long-range shootin'."
Droop-a-Long took his place, his eyes narrowing as he focused on the drawing. "Thanks, Mr. Ricochet. Trust me, I'm gonna need it," he said. Holding his hand steady, he opened fire. Gunshots erupted on the field, but to Droop-a-Long's dismay, nearly all of his shots hit everything else except the target. Two of them hit the figure below his waist, and Droop-a-Long facepalmed in shame and embarrassment. "My aim was way off that time..."
Ricochet hid a wince. His deputy wasn't known for having great accuracy, but he never did this bad-it was like he was hardly trying. Even so, he didn't want to tell him that.
"Well, uh…that's one way ta incapacitate someone, Droop-a-Long," Ricochet noted, trying to sound helpful.
Droop-a-Long's frown deepened. "Aw, why do I even bother tryin'? I'm never gonna get good at this rate," he muttered. He made his way over to the table to place the gun back, his tail dragging across the floor. "Well, I guess you win, Mr. Ricochet. Let's head on over to the department store."
"Now hold on jus' a minute, Droop!"
Droop-a-Long was about to walk away when Ricochet's hand seized his tail and dragged him back. Droop-a-Long looked at him, bewildered. "But Mr. Ricochet-"
"But Mr. Ricochet nothin'! I ain't gonna hear anythin' about you givin' up, Droop-a-Long!" Ricochet argued. His expression was fierce as he looked up at his friend. "If ya keep sayin' you're never gonna get good at it, ya never will. Ya need to keep tryin', an' don't give up. One day, ya will nail trick-shootin'. You jus' gotta work at it!"
Droop-a-Long stared at him, both surprised and touched at his words. He allowed a smile on his face. "Tell ya what, Mr. Ricochet. I'll keep workin' at it 'til I get better at it. But today...I think today I'll take a break," he said.
"But-"
"I get that you're tryin' to help, Mr. Ricochet. But technically, trick shootin' practice is work, since you're always workin' on how to improve your shootin' skills. An' today's your off-day," Droop-a-Long said. "We'll do some shootin' practice tomorrow, but today, you're gonna relax an' not worry 'bout anythin', especially me."
Ricochet sighed. "I don't get ta mention that you can relax an' not worry bout me, do I?"
Droop-a-Long shook his head. "Nope. I told you that I was takin' care of ya today, an' that's what I'm gonna do," he said. He smiled. "Now come on, we've still gotta go to the department store before it gets late."
"Alright, Droop-a-Long," Ricochet said, wincing as he made his way over to his deputy's side. "But I swear, if you pick out anythin' weird-"
"I don't pick out anythin' weird, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said. "But I think you should take your own advice, though."
Ricochet let out a wry chuckle at this.
A little while later…
"Hmm…"
"Mr. Ricochet, please tell me you're not thinkin' of buyin' that."
"You said I could pick out a few o' my clothes, Droop-a-Long!"
"An' now ya see why I said a few."
"Oh, like you're the expert on everythin' menswear!"
"I don't know everythin' 'bout menswear, but I reckon no one would buy that!"
"Well, I like it!" Ricochet took the shirt in question off of the rack. It was a long black shirt with four-point shapes scattered across them, colored in garish pink and green colors. For reasons that Droop-a-Long couldn't think of, Ricochet seemed to really like the shirt. "An' I aims to purchase it, too, jus' as soon as I see if it fits!" He made his way over to the dressing room, walking slower than normal due to his bruises.
His pain didn't go unnoticed. "Mr. Ricochet-" Droop-a-Long started.
"I'm fine, Droop-a-Long," Ricochet replied immediately, turning towards his deputy with a smile on his face to mask the pain. "I can put this on by myself without trouble."
Droop-a-Long didn't look convinced, but Ricochet wasn't about to let him protest. He made his way into the room, half-stumbling just as he closed the door. Fire flared up his back and he gingerly put a hand to his bruises. He hadn't told Droop-a-Long earlier, but they'd been bothering him when they were at the field. Moving about like this was only making the pain worse.
But he didn't want to tell Droop-a-Long that. He'd promised Droop-a-Long that he'd do what he could with him by his side, but his constant fretting made him feel like he was helpless, weak. And he hated being treated like that.
He took off his shirt, and then he heard a loud gasp. Whirling around, he turned to stare into the face of an older woman in a red dress. She stared at him with a red face and wide eyes.
Ricochet shrieked in surprise. "G-Goodness, I'm sorry, ma'am," he said, quickly throwing his shirt back on. He quickly stumbled out of the room, his back colliding with the door. This time, he couldn't help but yelp in pain.
"Oh my goodness! Are you alright, Sheriff?" the woman asked, reaching out to help him.
Ricochet grunted as he tried to put his shirt back on. "I-I'm fine, honestly," he said. After a second, he finally got the shirt back on. His hair was tussled and his face was slightly red. "I-I had no idea the room was occupied…"
"Mr. Ricochet!" Droop-a-Long ran over to Ricochet then, looking worried. "Are ya alright? You were so distracted that ya ran into the ladies' changin' room..."
"An' you didn't find it fit to tell me that, Droop-a-Long?!"
Droop-a-Long's expression was sheepish. "I was goin' to, but then you started screamin'…"
Ricochet slapped himself in the forehead, his face going redder by the second. "Well, don't I look like an idiot…"
"I-It's alright, Sheriff Ricochet," she replied. "Don't think anythin' of it. I'll get my things an' be on my way." She then hurried off to the dressing room to do just that.
"Sorry, Mr. Ricochet…" Droop-a-Long muttered.
Ricochet sighed. "I'm so glad that there wasn't a lot of people around to hear that," he said.
"Is everything alright back here?" the clerk asked, coming around the corner. "I thought I heard a woman scream."
Seeing Ricochet's reddening face, Droop-a-Long replied with, "Everythin's fine now, ma'am. Jus' a little bug that was in the changin' room, that's all," Droop-a-Long said.
The clerk sighed. "Those cockroaches have been coming in here a lot lately," she muttered, making her way back to the desk.
"Come on, Droop. Let's get outta here before I make an even bigger fool o' myself," Ricochet grumbled, getting to his feet.
"Uh, what about that shirt you wanted, Mr. Ricochet?"
"I'll go back in an' get it," Ricochet said, watching as the girl he'd bumped into left the dressing room. "After all, it was my fault for bein' in a hurry." He turned around, but the movement sent more pain flaring up his back and he had to bite back a hiss.
"Mr. Ricochet, let me do it," Droop-a-Long immediately offered.
Ricochet turned around to face him, trying to conceal his pain. "But Droop-"
"But Droop nothin'," Droop-a-Long interrupted. "I'll get it for ya, an' then we'll head on back to the office. I think you've been on your feet enough today."
Ricochet opened his mouth to protest, but by then Droop-a-Long had already walked into the room. He sighed. "Well, at least we get to go home after this…" He made his way over to a bench as he waited for his deputy to finish shopping for the both of them.
Thankfully, it didn't take that long. Ricochet got up from the bench and made his way over to Droop-a-Long, who was waiting for him by the door. The pain had lessened a bit since he'd taken the time to get off his feet, but it still ached badly. He tried to mask his pain as they made their way out of the store and towards the office, but each step made that impossible.
"Mr. Ricochet, are ya alright?" Droop-a-Long asked.
"I'm fine, Droop," Ricochet said automatically. "Really, I-"
Droop-a-Long stepped in front of Ricochet then, making the rabbit bring himself to a sudden stop. He stared at Droop-a-Long, who frowned down at him. "What're ya doin', Droop-a-Long?" he asked. "I told ya, I'm fine!"
"I know. You've been tellin' me that all day, Mr. Ricochet, even though it's clear to me that you ain't fine!" Droop-a-Long argued back. "It's been gettin' harder an' harder for ya to move around, hasn't it?"
Ricochet's expression turned sheepish. "Well…my back was achin' a little bit here an' there, Droop," he said. "But it's nothin' to worry about."
"Mr. Ricochet, you've been wincin' in pain ever since we left the barbershop," Droop-a-Long pointed out. Upon seeing Ricochet's shocked face, he said, "I've been takin' notice of more things than you think, an' I know you well enough to try an' hide your injuries."
"Okay, so I did hide it," Ricochet huffed. "There, ya happy now? I admitted it for everyone to hear!"
"Why would you do that, Mr. Ricochet? You'd only make it worse!"
"I couldn't stand the thought of bein' fussed around all day, alright?" Ricochet shouted. "There, I gave ya an answer! Now, will ya stop fussin' over me so much?"
Droop-a-Long stared at him for a moment, and his expression curled into a frown. "Mr. Ricochet, you promised me earlier that you'd let me take care of ya today. Reckon I was annoyin' ya a little bit…an' I'm sorry," he started. "But jus' because you're hurt an' ya can't do much doesn't mean you're helpless. You were able to do some trick shootin' at the field an' everythin'."
"H-How'd you-"
"Mr. Ricochet, I know you. An' I know that if our places were switched, you would've had me in bed an' locked my door to keep me from goin' anywhere. You'd never sit back an' let me walk around if I wasn't fine, even if I told ya I was so you wouldn't worry, 'cause you know I'd hurt myself even more. That's why I'm not gonna sit back an' let you do the same thing, Mr. Ricochet."
Ricochet stared at him for a moment, utterly shocked. Droop-a-Long looked down at Ricochet, the anger in his eyes melting away to reveal sadness. "Now, Mr. Ricochet…please promise me that you won't do anythin' like that again," he said. "I know that you don't like bein' fussed over, an' I understand why...but it hurts when ya hide things from me, especially since you promised me you wouldn't."
Ricochet felt like someone had kicked him in the gut. Seeing his friend this upset, and knowing that he was the cause of it, made him feel horrible. "Droop-a-Long, I'm sorry. Reckon I was bein' right stubborn…an' prideful, too," he said. "I was so determined to prove that I wasn't helpless, that I could still do things without much help, I ended up breakin' my promise to ya. An' if there's anythin' I hate, it's doin' that."
Droop-a-Long still looked unconvinced. "You won't break your promise to me this time, will ya?" he asked.
Ricochet shook his head. "I swear I won't, Droop," he said. "I promised you that I'd let ya take care of me today, an' that's what I'm gonna let you do. Reckon I need ta be off of my feet for the rest of the night, since my back is killin' me…"
"You think you can walk back?" Droop-a-Long asked.
Ricochet sighed. "Probably not," he admitted. "It's actually gettin' worse."
"Say no more, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said. He scooped up the sheriff, slinging his bags onto one of his arms. "I'll carry ya back."
"W-What are ya doin', Droop-a-Long?!" Ricochet sputtered. "Put me down!"
"Not a chance. You said ya couldn't walk, an' you need ta be off of your feet for the rest of the night," Droop-a-Long replied, walking towards the office.
"But I didn't say 'carry me all the way back'!" Some of the townspeople were staring at him in surprise, and he turned towards Droop-a-Long, angry and embarrassed. "And to carry me like this in the middle of town…"
"Well, I could carry ya like a sack instead."
Ricochet glared at Droop-a-Long. "You try that. I dare you."
Droop-a-Long smirked. "Figured ya wouldn't like that idea."
A little while later, they soon made their way into the office, and Droop-a-Long set Ricochet down on the chair. Ricochet huffed and folded his arms as he looked at Droop-a-Long. "I'll let ya off the hook for that, Deputy, since my back was botherin' me. But if you did that as a prank, I swear-"
"I didn't do that as a prank, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said. "I did it ta help you out, not to embarrass you."
"I know how you can be sometimes, Droop-a-Long," Ricochet said. "A part of ya likes to mess with me."
Droop-a-Long couldn't help the mischievous grin that came on his face. "Well…I may have had a little fun seein' you get mad."
A pillow smacked him in the face a second later. "Ouch!" he grumbled. Droop-a-Long rubbed his face and gave an apologetic smile. "Okay, I won't do that again, I promise."
"You'd do well to keep that promise, Deputy," Ricochet said, giving him a warning glare.
Droop-a-Long knew then to drop it; otherwise, Ricochet would find other items to hurl at him. "Right, Mr. Ricochet." He made his way over to the lamp and fumbled with it a little before he finally got it on. "Now, is there anythin' you'd like? Ice? A cup of carrot juice?"
"Well…I'd like both o' those, to be honest. While you do that, I'll find somethin' to watch on TV," Ricochet said, reaching for the remote in question, which was on the floor.
He didn't get far before Droop-a-Long picked it up for him. "Here ya are, Mr. Ricochet," he said.
Ricochet sighed as he took the remote. He would've said something, but he didn't intend to break his promise again. "Thanks, Droop," he said.
"No problem, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long answered. "I'll fix dinner, too, while I'm at it." He made his way into the kitchen, setting the bags from the department store near Ricochet's desk.
"I'm fine doin' takeout, Droop-a-Long," Ricochet said, but by then Droop-a-Long was scrambling about for the ice and the ingredients to make dinner. Ricochet sighed deeply as he relaxed into the chair, flipping the channels on the television. "An' he says I'm stubborn…" he muttered under his breath.
Two clicks later, he found something of interest: a movie focusing on the famous Western hero Hopalong Cassidy. Halfway through the film, the smells of fried dough and grilled sausage filled his nose. He sniffed the air a few more times and he turned in the direction of the kitchen. "Hey, Droop, what're ya makin'?"
"Fried veggie cakes, Mr. Ricochet," his deputy replied. "Oh, an' I'm havin' some sausage to go with mine."
Ricochet couldn't help but grin. He loved all of Droop-a-Long's recipes, but the fried veggie cakes were one of his favorites. "How long 'til they're ready, Droop?"
"I've just finished, Mr. Ricochet!" Droop-a-Long replied. "I'll bring in the drinks an' ice pack that you asked for, too."
"Thanks, Droop," Ricochet answered.
Droop-a-Long walked into the room carrying a tray with the fried veggie cakes, a small plate of sausage, a tall glass of carrot juice and another tall glass of water. He set the tray down on the table, and took a large ice pack from under his arm. "Sorry for the wait," he said.
"Naw, it's no big deal, Droop," Ricochet answered. He took the ice pack from Droop-a-Long and placed it behind him, then relaxed back into the couch. He shivered as his back came in contact with the ice. "Ahh…that's cold…"
"It's not too cold, is it, Mr. Ricochet?"
"It's fine, Droop-a-Long. Already I feel leagues better," he said. "Thanks."
"You're welcome, Mr. Ricochet. You go on an' relax."
"Reckon you should be takin' your own advice, Droop."
Droop-a-Long stared at him in surprise. "I would, if you're sure ya don't need-"
"Droop, you've been fussin' over me all day long. If I'm takin' a break, you're takin' a break," Ricochet said. "I appreciate everythin' that you've done for me today. Really, I do. But I don't want ya wearin' yourself down 'cause you're busy takin' care of me. Reckon I'll have ta take it easy for a few more days 'til I can move about freely like I used to. An' until then, you'll have to be sheriff. The last thing you need to do is exhaust yourself 'cause you were takin' care of me and takin' care of the duties of bein' sheriff." When Droop-a-Long still looked unconvinced, Ricochet added, "An' yes, I am serious 'bout takin' time off, Droop."
"That's somethin' I never thought you'd say, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long noted. "You hardly if ever take time off."
"Well…if this injury's taught me anythin', it's to take it easy sometimes, as well as appreciate others' concern," Ricochet added. "'Cause it's like ya said earlier, someone needs to remind me every now an' then that I'm cared about." He smiled up at Droop-a-Long. "Thanks for everythin', Droop-a-Long."
Droop-a-Long smiled back. "You're welcome, Mr. Ricochet," he replied. He picked up the tray of veggie cakes. "Ya may wanna eat one of these 'fore it gets cold."
"Ah, thanks, Droop," Ricochet said, taking three of the cakes. "Tonight, they're supposed to have a Brave Starr marathon after Hopalong Cassidy. Ya wanna watch that with me?"
"Sure thing, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said. He looked at the plate of fried veggie cakes, which were rapidly disappearing. "Reckon we're gonna need some more snacks."
Ricochet chuckled as he took a few more. "You're not lyin' 'bout that, Droop."
The End
I don't know if Vulaan Kulaas was going to write a follow up to "Powerful Friendship, Iron Bond", so I hope she's not too upset that I went and did one. ^^" But I'd totally like to see a sequel to it, anyway :D
It took me a little bit to think of all that Ricochet does on his off days. I figured most of them would be rigorous-in one episode, he's seen playing ping-pong with himself (in the cartoon, it's mentioned that he's too fast for anybody to play ping-pong with) and other times when he's not on a case, he's either napping or practicing trick shooting with Droop-a-Long. With the injury he got, he wouldn't be able to do all of those things for very long, so he more or less had a day out on the town with Droop-a-Long.
A few of my headcanons appeared here, too: despite being a bachelor who has all the ladies going after him, he doesn't have the greatest love life ever (which is more or less an inside joke in town), and he doesn't like being fussed about when he's injured, mostly because he feels as though he's weak and helpless. It was interesting to explore that side of Ricochet; his pride still kicked in even when he promised Droop-a-Long that he'd keep it check.
I hope I did a good job of balancing out the drama, humor and friendship fluff in this story. Constructive criticism is welcome, and I'll see you guys around when I do my next one-shot!
God bless, iheartgod175