Title:Trouble
Summary:Where Matthew and Anne are birds of a feather and Green Gables is a farm.
Rating:K
A/N: I wrote this for and English class and felt bad for leaving it to collect virtual dust, so here is it for your viewing pleasure.
"Oh Matthew, I do not believe that I will ever be able to comprehend geometry." Anne and Matthew walked side by side, with Anne balancing a pile of books in her arms and Matthew with a slice of pie in each hand. Earlier that day, Marilla had left for the church, but not before reminding Anne that pies were to be taken out of the oven preferably before they resembled coal. Evidently Anne succeed, even if the edges of the crust were slightly blackened and that songbird that she had been conversing with would be rather cross with her at the abrupt end to their conversation.
Matthew laid the plate down on the table, mindful of Anne's tendency to explode into fits of movement when battling against her greatest foe, Geometry. He was just about to settle his pleasantly aching muscles down into his chair when a sudden gasp from Anne caused him to whirl, bumping said aching muscles into the frame of his chair and knocking said chair to the ground with a bang.
Anne's excited face greeted him, eyes wide and waterfall of words barely contained by the hand over her mouth. She jabbed her fingers several times at the floor near the leg of his now displaced chair. Matthew just knew that Marilla would be all up in arms about the newest scratches to her floors. At this point a foul and unfortunately familiar odour invaded his nostrils accompanied by a litany of angry squeaks.
Following Anne's fingers, his suspicions were confirmed by the tiny ball of black and white fur now curled up against the overturned chair leg. Quickly getting over her initial elation at such a 'pleasant' surprise, Anne immediately made to swoop in a pick up the kit, clearly not noticing the tail raised in warning. It shrieked again and Matthew reacted too late to stop the agitated skunk from once again releasing its aroma to the world.
Quickly pulling Anne back he placed himself between her and the skunk "Well now, why don't you go open the windows."
Her crestfallen look didn't last long before it settled into a determined look and she sprang into action figuring that the quicker she accomplished her task the quicker she would be able to play with the skunk.
Now alone with the kit, Matthew crouched low, moving slowly as his large weathered hands slid gently under the kit, careful not to startle the poor thing any more than it already was. The kit shivered in his palms and wound itself into an even tighter ball. The corners of his mouth curling downward, Matthew looked out the windows and guessed that the cold spring night had driven the small creature into their home in search of warmth.
Anne came back, sheepish grin stretching her across her lips and extends a cloth "I'm so very deeply sorry Matthew. The door must how bounce back open after I rushed in to save the pie. And now Marilla will be ever so disappointed in me and we both smell quite horrid."
"Well now, I think no harm was done that can't be fixed." He made his way to the now closed door.
"Where are you going Matthew?" He gestured towards the door.
"But we must to help him find his way home! Can we let him stay at Green Gables? At least for the night. Pépe-" She had named the kit already? Matthew could already see where this was going, as it was a well known route that generally ended with Marilla telling him exactly where his oars belonged.
"-is so delicate and frail and he cannot defend himself and the air is cold outside and the cold night will steal him away!" Disagreeing with the last case, Matthew looked at the kit curled in his palms and back up into Anne's burning grey eyes.
"Well now,-"
When Marilla the house several hours later, she was immediately bombarded with a putrid odour and intense whispers. Her watering eyes immediately land on Matthew and Anne both kneeling around a small box. "What is this stench?"
Anne quickly jumps up, words spilling out of her mouth a mile a minute , the whispered words quickly becoming jumbled in all her excitement. Prying Anne's arms from around her Marilla quickly covers her nose with sleeves and turned to Matthew, looking for a reason why her well put together, PLEASANT, smelling house had to be to in such a state. With Anne clearly too excited to answer her questions, Matthew found himself under her stern glare.
Matthew picks up the box, and gently tilts it, inviting her to look inside. The hairy ball that greeted her was an all too familiar and unwanted sight. She narrowed her eyes at Matthew, whose shy smile seemed suddenly seemed all the more devious.
"Well now, this is Pépe."
A/N: Hope you enjoyed - W