set between Secrets and Godfather in the Dreams of the Waking Man
warnings: cracky humor. consumption of small, cute animals. mild violence. language: g.
pairing: Laura/Julian, with background Nate/Wade.
timeline: January 2017 (Laura's about 5 months pregnant here).
disclaimer: i doesn't owns the movies, comics, or characters. or the assorted objects of pop culture reference.
notes: 1) Hank is basically the household medical encyclopedia. XD 2) diphenyl oxalate is a luminescent chemical. it's toxic, though, so it's not recommended for volcanoes around small children; it's strictly a "show the college kids that you can make something glow and explode at the same time" kind of thing. 3) sleepwalking often involves doing other things in your sleep-eating, watching TV, doing laundry...but since you're actually asleep, you often grab the wrong objects or try to do things in the wrong locations, such as trying to cook at your computer desk or folding your clothes and putting them away in the fridge. 4) Conrad was a birthday present in Celebrate. hamsters only actually live about two years, but i don't expect that's something Laura would know (unless she'd researched hamsters when she got Conrad...let's just pretend she had no idea). 5) cockatiels, smallest member of the cockatoo family, can occasionally be taught to mimic words, but it's quite rare (and they can't amass the kind of vocabulary seen in more talkative species like budgerigars or grey parrots). 6) "Bones" was the nickname of Star Trek's Dr. McCoy.
Alas, Poor Conrad
"Doctor McCoy."
Hank pauses with his teacup halfway to his mouth and turns.
Laura is standing in the kitchen doorway, drumming her fingers on her stomach and casting furtive looks around.
"Laura, my dear, you look dreadful. Are you sleeping well?"
Her eyes keep darting over the kitchen, almost guiltily. "Somewhat. Perhaps. My back bothers me less since you suggested the pillow under my knees. You said I should indulge cravings, correct?"
He sets his tea down, carefully avoiding the leftover spatters of neon orange from Hope's enthusiastic (perhaps overly enthusiastic, with the mad-scientist-laughter) demonstration of a baking soda volcano to some of the younger students. At least he talked her out of the diphenyl oxalate version. "Yes, cravings are your body's way of telling you what it needs."
She frowns, still drumming her fingers.
"Laura, if you keep doing that, those babies are going to wonder if they're under attack."
She clenches her fists and awkwardly tucks them under her arms. "What about sleepwalking? Can pregnancy cause sleepwalking?"
"Occasionally, the hormonal changes can cause sleepwalking, yes."
"And sleep eating?"
Slowly, Hank puts his glasses down on the crossword puzzle (which has an orange spot over twelve across). He tries very hard not to laugh. "Are you worried that you've perhaps eaten something you shouldn't have?"
In lieu of drumming her fingers on her stomach, she starts pacing. "Last Wednesday, the nest of swallows outside our window disappeared. Over the weekend, the family of rabbits near the boathouse vanished."
"Oh, dear," he says. He reminds himself that laughing right now would be horrible. In the middle of her second trimester, Laura would probably burst into tears and then break his arm.
"And…and last night…this morning…"
He puts on his very best 'I'm a doctor, I understand,' face. "What's gone missing today, dear?"
She sits next to him at the table and folds her hands tightly together. "It's awful. This was the whole point you know. I was supposed to take care of him, no matter what sort of temptations I might face. God, I'm going to be a horrible mother!"
"Oh, don't say that… Come now, how bad can it really be? I haven't heard any news of Nicolette's cat going missing."
Laura waves her hand quickly. "Oh. No. Have you ever tasted cat? Yuck. Aside from certain birds and reptiles, carnivores in general have this awful, mucky sort of—nevermind that. No, it's Conrad."
He blinks. "Conrad."
She looks at him expectantly.
But he honestly doesn't remember a pet in the house named Conrad. Cessily has goldfish, but they're all named after female characters in some silly video game. One of the children has a pet cockatiel, but its name is Marco (and the only word it ever says is 'polo').
"Conrad, the hamster Logan gave me for my eighteenth birthday," she finally says, sounding put-out.
Ah, he remembers the thing now. He's only seen it once, when she moved her things into Julian's room. It was quite a while ago, no wonder he didn't remember. Hamsters don't live very long, after all (in fact, this must be some spiritual successor to the original, unless people have been doing very odd and semi-unethical things to it). "Yes, of course." Now he sees the problem. "Well, Laura, one can hardly help what one does in a fit of somnambulation."
"What should I tell Julian?"
"Do you feel you owe him some sort of explanation? Conrad was your hamster. Simply tell him the facts: in a fit of midnight craving, you sleepwalked and ate poor Conrad."
She pouts at him. "You are terrible at this."
He sighs. "Shall I go get Wade? The two of you seem to commune on some odd psychological wavelength that I have so far failed spectacularly at comprehending. Unless…" He pauses again. "Laura, dear, you're not worried that you'll eat your children, are you?"
Her face goes quite pale, and he once again forces himself not to laugh.
"Oh, Laura…" He pats her hands. "From a purely biological standpoint, I can tell you that your babies will not smell delicious. In fact, for quite some time, they'll smell exactly like you. Have you ever had a craving for your own hand or foot?"
"Well, no…"
So Hank smiles his most reassuring smile, pats her hands again, and goes back to his tea.
"Alas, poor Conrad!" Wade says as he bursts through the kitchen door. "We knew him, Bones."
"I assure you, I long ago tired of Star Trek jokes," Hank replies blandly.
"You knew?" Laura demands, pouting again.
Wade hugs her around the shoulders and mimics her pout. "Oh, honey, of course I knew. You were making crunchy noises in the middle of the night and I got curious. We can hold a funeral for him, I'll say something nice…Conrad was a fellow of infinite jest!"
"Please, enough Hamlet," Hank begs. "Shakespeare must be rolling in his grave."
"Don't worry about the legalities, either," Wade goes on. "We'll plead maternity cravings, no jury in the state'll convict you."
Hank holds up a finger. "In point of fact, I'm not sure it's illegal to eat a hamster in the state of New York."
Wade pats Laura on the head. "And it's not like you didn't know Conrad's been quietly replaced twice already."
She looks at him in utter horror.
"Ooh, was that still a secret? Uh, forget I said that, Greenie. Yes, hamsters totally live about five or six years in captivity, so it was probably his time to go, and you did him a favor by eating him. He was able to help his beloved owner satisfy a craving before the end of his unnaturally long life!"
"You let me think my hamster was still alive?" she shrieks, punching him in the ribs.
"Ouch. Hey, wasn't me. I believe in telling little girls the truth about the mortality of pets. Besides, the other two were just as much yours as the first one."
"Well if it wasn't you…" Suddenly, she hops up from the table with a stormy look on her face. "Excuse me, gentlemen, I have to go punch my husband now."
The sound of the domestic dispute carries through the halls as it migrates around the house. Thuds of impact, the occasional clink of jostled tables, yelps of pleading explanation…
Wade grins broadly at Hank.
Hank thinks desperately that he'd prefer to cling to plausible deniability.
"So I was thinking of giving her a guinea pig at the baby shower."
"The girl will shred you," Hank replies, and finally fills in twelve across.
.End.
