Warning: Contains slashy things
Pairing: Famine/Pollution
Words: 287
Disclaimer: Do not own, making no money.
Bad Apples
"A what?" White asked blankly.
Sable raised a rather disdainful eyebrow at the wicker basket that had been left on their doorstep while they'd been out. "A housewarming gift," he said again, and reached down to retrieve the attached card. "Hmm. I think that meddlesome angel and demon are trying to appease us."
After a moment of consideration, White crouched down and inspected the ridiculously large black and white ribbon bow that topped the gift basket. He twisted his head around to look at the basket from several different angles before deciding that the knot was too complicated to bother with.
He poked at it, and whatever corrosive substance was currently coating his fingertips ate through the material of the ribbon easily. Pulling it off the basket, he eyed it thoughtfully and then tossed it onto the sidewalk.
"Non-biodegradable," he announced, pleased.
"But the rest of it is…" Sable shrugged and opened the front door. "We could leave it out here to rot, I suppose."
White poked at the basket's contents – which were, given the summer heat and Famine's presence, rather mushy already. "That wouldn't take long, I think. But I still don't see what this has to do with warming a house." He glanced up. "Maybe we could use it to light a fire?"
"Maybe," Sable allowed, though he was quite disinclined to let anything remotely nutritious cross the threshold of their newly acquired cottage. "Now," he continued, settling a hand on White's back to direct him inside, "I believe there are still a few flat surfaces we have yet to defile."
White smiled in agreement as Sable's hand slipped lower and let himself be pushed inside, the gift basket of slightly rotten apples temporarily forgotten.