Breakfast In Bed
Author's Note: Breakfast in Bed is a cute fluff about revenge. No slash. Enjoy!
Sun.
Dazzling sun.
Tintin cracked his eyelids open, and his vision was immediately filled with light. How long have I been asleep? he wondered, feeling groggy and comfortable at the same time. The sweet sound of birdsong drifted in and out of his ears, and a gentle breeze caressed his head.
Content and happy, he turned over and adjusted his blanket, keeping his eyes open so he could survey the lawn. Thick green grass drifted lazily in the spring air, a carpet of green that rolled for miles before disappearing into the tangle of woods that bordered Marlinspike's property. The sky was painted a crisp, clear blue, the color of summer Sundays and ice cream at the pier. The sun, a brilliant orb in the panorama that stretched out before him, shone gently, warmly. And the weather- well, the weather was beautiful. Just warm enough to hint at the forthcoming summer, but just cool enough to make Tintin feel comfortable under the blanket.
For a moment he wondered why he was outside. That's right, I remember. The doctor told me to get some rest. He'd gone for his spring checkup this morning, and received a diagnosis: a mild cold, accompanied by headaches. It would be gone by tomorrow, he was sure of that. He'd wanted to sleep in his bed, but when he opened his window, decided that he might as well take advantage of the beautiful day and sleep outside. So, equipped with a blanket and Captain Haddock's warnings to come inside if it became too cold, he'd taken a nap.
What time is it? He quickly checked his watch and discovered that it was 11:32 in the morning. Still plenty of time left in the day, he noted with satisfaction, and turned over on his other side to get comfortable. A smile stretching over his face, he closed his eyes and concentrated on the birdsong from the tree above him. It was going to be a good day, he decided. A bit lazy, but good. He sighed comfortably and wondered how long it would take him to fall asleep.
A squeaking sound woke him suddenly, and he looked up to see the Captain opening the French doors to the garden. He was dressed sharply in a dark green morning suit and robe, and seemed to be carrying a tray of something.
Tintin poked his head up from under the blankets. "Captain?"
Haddock waved to Tintin with his free hand, balancing the full tray precariously with the other. "How's the invalid?" he called, kicking the French doors closed with a loafered foot. Without waiting for a response, he placed it on a nearby table with a clatter. "I brought a late breakfast," he announced. "I'm not sure what Nestor made, exactly," he began, looking under a foil wrap, "but it looks like fruit… a croissant… some juice, here… oh, and some hot chocolate."
"What do you mean, 'invalid'?" Tintin laughed. "Come on, Captain, it's not that bad. A day or two and I'll be back on my feet. But maybe you could bring my sun chair to the table," he suggested.
Haddock walked to the back of the chair and lifted it about a foot off the ground, producing a loud grunt. "It's not as easy as it looks," he protested. "In fact, it's… oh!" He made a panicked noise, waving the chair back and forth. "It's about to drop!"
Tintin opened his eyes wide and grabbed the sides of the sun chair. "Captain!" he shouted feverishly. "Put me down!"
"I can't!" the Captain responded, as Tintin's chair swooped dangerously near the ground. "It's out of my control now!"
With a squeal of terror, Tintin gripped the edge of his blanket and wondered how his head would feel when it made contact with the ground.
Then the Captain placed Tintin's chair safely on the ground next to the table, and it was over. Tintin sat breathless, eyes wide open. "Maybe you should've had Nestor come," he suggested shakily.
The Captain nodded. "Yeah, I should have." Then suddenly, his voice broke off in an unexpected giggle.
Tintin's face drained of color as he grasped what was going on. He wheeled his head around and stared directly into Haddock's eyes, fury blazing in his expression. "You- you mean to tell me that was a joke?" he challenged.
The Captain grabbed his stomach as he doubled over, gasping for breath in between gales of laughter. "You should've seen your face! It was priceless!"
"I'm sure it was!" Tintin replied angrily, then turned around and looked at the foil-wrapped food. "I'm not even going to look at you. This is very vexing."
Walking toward the table, the Captain wiped away a tear of mirth. "Oh, well. You only live once." He sat down and began to unwrap a warm croissant.
"My life was about to be a lot shorter just now," Tintin pointed out with a scowl. "I can't believe you did that."
Haddock chose not to reply, instead focusing his attention on the croissant. "Do we have Nutella?" he wondered aloud, grabbing a knife. "Are we out? Usually Nestor brings Nutella with breakfast."
Tintin crossed his arms over his chest. "We're out," he said sourly.
"Really?" Haddock looked at Tintin pointedly. "I was sure that we had a bit of Nutella in the pantry last night."
"I'm still not going to forgive you."
Haddock's face was grim. "I'm going to check with Nestor about this. You stay here and finish your breakfast."
"I'm not hungry," Tintin pouted.
Haddock stood up and stretched, joints cracking. "Fine. Don't eat, then," he said, pulling his robe tight and walking to the doors, grabbing the handles.
With a sharp cry of pain, he suddenly doubled over.
"Are you all right?" called Tintin.
"Stubbed… my… toe…" Haddock groaned. "I'll… be all right…" He tried to straighten up, but doubled over again in pain.
Tintin chuckled. "I'd help you back up, but honestly, I'm just too comfortable right now," he sighed, closing his eyes and leaning back in the chair. He did feel a little bad about not helping his friend, but it would serve the Captain right for that nasty trick.
/
Tintin felt much better the next morning, and was up and about again around Marlinspike Hall. After sleeping in for a few extra hours, he'd dressed in his favorite yellow shirt and walked downstairs, feeling happy and refreshed. A light before-breakfast snack of coffee and biscuits made the day even better, and as he scanned the local newspaper's headlines, he decided he would make coffee cake for breakfast.
Meanwhile, Captain Haddock was in a bad mood. It had turned out that he had not only stubbed his toe at the doors, but twisted his ankle. The doctor had phoned this morning to prescribe a day of rest and relaxation. "Rest and relaxation", however, turned out to be sitting in a sun chair in the back garden, wrapped in a blanket, and forbidden to move or even touch the cast on his foot.
He stared angrily at the wall, wishing he could come inside and play a video game or something, but of course it would be so much better for him to stay in the sun so his tired old bones could soak up the vitamins and sunshine. "It would be best to remain out of doors if possible," the doctor had said, even as he checked several lifestyle and immunity deficiencies off the Captain's health chart. And as if that wasn't bad enough, it was getting hot outside. Really, really hot.
Captain Haddock was just making up his mind to go inside once and for all, when the French doors swung open and out stepped Tintin, grinning and holding a glazed raspberry coffee cake.
"Would you like some, Captain?" Tintin called, placing the tempting confection on the table. He pulled a chair forward and sat down, brandishing a bread knife.
"Blistering barnacles, would I!" Haddock exclaimed, forgetting the cast and propelling himself from the sun chair.
"Hold it, Captain!" Tintin shouted, dashing over and holding Haddock down. "Remember your leg! The doctor said…"
"Yes, I know what the doctor said," the Captain scowled, settling back down in the chair. Tintin tried to place the woolen blanket back over his friend, but Haddock shoved it aside angrily. "Thundering typhoons, it's hot enough outside!" he protested. "Just bring me to the cake."
"Are you sure you want the cake?" Tintin asked innocently.
"I'm sure, all right." Turning around to face Tintin, he added, "You don't have anything up your sleeve, do you Tintin?"
"Of course not!" Tintin laughed. "Now, just turn around again and I'll bring you to the table." He gripped the bottom of the sun chair with both hands. "Now, on the count of three I'll lift you up. One, two, three…"
The End
Authors' Note: And that… is the revenge of Tintin against his scheming friend Captain Haddock.
That was my first Tintin story, guys! How did you like it? Make sure to favorite and review!