-1Just letting you all know this is mild slash before you read on. Turn back if you don't like. . . . .
M'kay? Still with me? Yaaaaay! Onwards!
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Today's heist had been a rather successful one, all things considered. It was a good haul, no close calls, and the only thing that needed done was to make room in the log to store the stuff. Hammy's millions of acorns and nuts had to be cleared out some, which made the squirrel anxious and a little upset, frankly. RJ couldn't blame him; he'd finally found all his hidden treasures and now it seemed they didn't want them at all. Which wasn't true. They just needed a little more variety.
Hammy's feelings improved however, once other food arrived. He couldn't imagine a winter without cookies. And hot chocolate. And marshmallow rice krispie treats. Nuts were nice, but no substitute for cookies. Hammy helped take them out in wagonloads and hid them all away, planting little toothpick flags RJ had stolen from a party in each hole so he could remember them next year.
Meanwhile, the others started putting food into the vacant gaps.
Eventually they got to a place where something smelled very . . . expired.
"Oh man," RJ groaned, pinching his nose. "Okay, who stole a dairy product?" The animals looked sheepishly at one another. Then, slowly, Tiger raised a paw.
"Tiger, we can't store food that goes bad. It'll make us sick. Seriously, this isn't even milk. It's . . ." RJ lugged out the cylinder and wrinkled his nose as he popped open the lid to take a peek. "It's sour cream. Huh. Why would humans want their cream to be soured?" he muttered to himself.
"Ugh, sour cream? That is not Maximum Fluff Persian Milk Formula! Hmmph. It has the exact same packaging almost," Tiger murmured upon closer look.
". . . Yeah. Anyway, we need to get rid of this stuff."
Before RJ could say another word, Quillo leaped forward and grabbed a pawful. "Food fiiiiiiiiiight!" he squealed and tossed a glob at his brother. Spike got hit in the face and gagged. Bucky laughed gleefully and dipped his own paws into the mess, flinging it in a little whirlwind at everything.
"Oh my," RJ commented dryly as blobs of the stuff went flying everywhere. "Someone's been into the caffeine." He blinked in alarm and looked around. "Where's Hammy?"
There was no sign of the squirrel and only an empty can of soda lying on its side that RJ hoped desperately had only been shared by the three porcupine kids.
The thought of ensuing pandemonium was out of his head when a moldy piece of whatever-it-was landed on RJ's nose. He made a gacking noise and scrubbed it off, eyes watering with the smell of curdled dairy product. "UUUGH! Guys QUIT IT!"
Penny and Lou each grabbed an armful of child and scolded them. "Golly, we're sorry, everyone," Penny said, polka-dotted with white splotches.
"You three are gettin' a bath and no video games for a week, there!" The porcupine kids were too hyper to moan, instead choosing to giggle. Lou and Penny grumbled, toting them to the lake and cursing the general existence of caffeine. The other animals that had been hit followed. RJ looked around once more for Hammy who was still nowhere to be seen and finally went after to clean himself up.
RJ finished up, though he utterly hated getting his fur wet. It made him feel scrawny and vulnerable. Not that diving into the lake had been his own doing. He'd been knocked headfirst into it when Heather's branch had unexpectedly dipped under her weight, sending her tumbling into him. She had apologized in mortification, only trying to hang upside down so she could sun herself dry. She'd underestimated the strength of the sapling tree.
"It's okay, sugar, no harm done," RJ had smiled, shaking off his paws as he trudged through the brush. Ew. Ewww, he did not like the way leaves stuck to wet raccoon feet. RJ tried shaking those off as well. Once he was well out of sight and earshot, he cursed under his breath, lifted as much of his sopping wet fur as he could and tried to wring it all out.
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Hammy was hungry. He'd known enough to resist temptation when the three youngsters opened the caffeine can, although he probably should have told them not to but then they didn't listen to him because he wasn't their parent. Hammy had zoomed off to finish hiding the nuts and to put toothpick flags in several more areas to throw off anyone who'd been spying.
He naturally had no idea how much this was going to backfire on him next spring.
Hammy came back to find everyone gone and gobs of sour cream melting into stinking piles in the sun. He'd of course shrieked, thinking his friends had eaten radioactive nachos which had turned them into mutant snowmen who had then melted in the heat of the sun.
Hammy had cried for a while and was very sad until it occurred that the nacho bags they'd stolen weren't open. And that there was a tub of sour cream sitting in the middle of the grass.
Phew. All were safe. Hammy decided to avoid the nacho chip today, just in case. He ate a cookie and a few pieces of popcorn and was about to consider himself done when he saw something he'd never seen before.
It was a Jar. A big brown one with a red lid and a pretty label. It said 'Spif'. Spif was a neat name.
"Hi, Spif!" Hammy said. He gave a little wave. The jar did not wave back.
Under the word Spif were the words 'Peanut Butter, the Brand Moms Trust'.
Hammy decided that meant it was nice. And then he reread 'Peanut Butter'.
"Ooooh." Hammy sniffed at the jar's lid and jumped on top of it, screwing the lid off. He set aside the lid carefully, figuring the jar might get mad if he lost its pretty hat, and sniffed again at the brown contents. It didn't look like very much but it smelled heavenly.
Hammy took a little taste off the tip of his finger and decided it tasted nothing like nuts or butter, but it was delicious anyway. He took another nibble, and then scooped up a bigger fingerful. Hammy sucked it off and swallowed the peanut butter gob without really chewing it first. God this stuff was good!
Of course if the sour cream hadn't gone flying everywhere, RJ might still have been present to give a lecture about the danger of eating too much peanut butter in one go. Hammy had decided he liked it enough to cram it into his cheeks. The roof of his mouth was coated with the stuff and he swiped his tongue across it and swallowed. Only he couldn't.
Hammy paused and tried again. He carefully pulled out one ball of peanut butter and then the other, though now his cheeks were coated with a fine layer of peanut butter and yet his mouth was dry. Hammy swallowed and failed to move anything. He took a breath and found this too was difficult.
What . . . was . . . this stuff!
He had to get water! No! He had to find RJ! Verne, Stella, anyone! But RJ would know what to do! Hammy zoomed off to look and after a few feet, fell over, gasping hard and scrabbling at his throat. His tongue started working overtime trying to lick the substance off the roof of his mouth. All it did was make his tongue coated with peanut butter and it was still at the back of his throat, refusing to budge.
He needed water . . .
He needed help . . .
. . . needed RJ . . .
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RJ was still wringing out his tail as he stepped over the roots of the tree and was looking for a sunny spot to sit while the rest of him dried off. Egads, he hated being wet. He heard a whimper before looking across the forest floor to the source. A little red squirrel was on the ground, face upturned and mouth opened. Hammy . . . the poor little guy looked like he was in pain. RJ scurried over. "Hammy?" He asked, stooping to look at him. "You okay?"
Hammy shook his head, wheezing. His eyes were shining with frustrated tears as he tried to gesture what was wrong. He hadn't made it to the lake. He couldn't run, not while he could barely breathe. Paws folded at his throat, Hammy looked up at RJ, pleading.
"Are you choking?" RJ asked, already grabbing Hammy by the ribs and pulling the young squirrel up. "Okay, take it easy, I'll get it out." Hammy tried to squeal in protest, but RJ's paws slammed in between his stomach, right under his ribs. Hammy squirmed, unable to scream. His tail slammed desperately against RJ's side. RJ was trying to help him, but he wasn't getting it!
"Hammy hold still, I can get it out!"
Hammy kept whacking at RJ with his tail and trying to climb out. This was not helping him breathe at all. His heart felt constricted and there was a blackness starting to creep in on the edge of his vision. It terrified him. Hammy was squeaking faintly. He pushed his feet against the ground, pushing against RJ's chest and trying to shove his hands away. "Hammy . . . Hammy, you're not helping!" RJ sounded angry.
At the pinnacle of terror, the squirrel did the only thing he could think of to do, though he'd feel horrible later. He bit RJ's paw. RJ yelled and let go, sending Hammy rolling tail over heels to lie panting less than a foot away. RJ glanced angrily at his hand to see if it was bleeding. It wasn't but there was something gooey on it that had come from Hammy's mouth. Something familiar. RJ sniffed it.
"Oh no . . . Hammy!" RJ went over to the squirrel and lifted him tenderly. Hammy didn't have the strength to bat him away in protest, but he had started to cry and pawed at his throat. "Oh Hammy, how much did you eat?" RJ pried his mouth open gently and looked. There was enough to block his air passage. RJ tried to reach a finger in and scoop some of it away. He managed to clear a bit which set Hammy into a gagging fit. Nothing came out although it was loosened. Hammy coughed and clutched his throat. "Easy now, relax." RJ said, rubbing his back.
He tried to think. His finger couldn't do it. He needed something with rough texture that would clear it out. Something flexible and wide . . . RJ wiped his paw off while he thought. The peanut butter goo stuck to his fur. He grimaced and licked it off, spitting it back onto the ground. RJ stared back at Hammy miserably for a moment before realizing what he'd done. And what he had to do.
"Oh no." Ohhh yes. RJ sighed and his face grew determined. This was for Hammy. And it was his fault he hadn't explained why even humans sometimes had problems with that particular food item. RJ licked his lips and gently brought Hammy's face close to his. "Okay," he said, trying to get the dazed squirrel to focus on him. Hammy's eyes locked onto his, still holding a measure of hope. "Hammy, listen. I'm going to . . ."
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Verne had seen to it that the other animals didn't go out too deeply into the lake while staying on the shore. Getting wet and staying in the sun didn't do good things for his metabolism. Verne soaked it up for a little nonetheless before wandering off back to the log to grab a little something to munch on. He paused as he heard a voice up ahead and tried to identify it.
RJ was saying something rather conspiratorially and panicked-sounding. And he'd mentioned Hammy's name. Verne blinked, wondering what was going on. Hammy usually talked a mile a minute, but he was apparently letting RJ talk. Uninterrupted.
Weird . . .
Verne squinted and tried to listen.
" . . . going to put this in your mouth. It'll feel a little weird, but trust me, it's the only way we're going to be able to do this. You with me, kid?" A pause. "Okay . . . whatever I push down there, you need to swallow. And for the love of cheese, don't bite."
Verne blinked. "Whaaaaaaaaat?"
He listened for more and heard a very soft squeak of discomfort. Then, nothing. Cautiously and slowly, Verne peeked over the top of the big tree root he was hiding behind.
What he saw made his eyes widen to the size of spuddies. Verne watched breathlessly and in mute outrage as RJ's paw went to the back of Hammy's neck, holding him in place as RJ's muzzle pressed against Hammy's. Verne saw a pink slip of tongue dart into Hammy's mouth. Hammy arched his back, blinking forth tears and looking utterly terrified. His paws clenched RJ's chest fur and he was shaking pitifully, yet RJ didn't let go.
Verne felt himself boiling in rage. How dare he? How dare RJ take advantage of poor sweet Hammy, who didn't want to be kissed like that! For goodness sake, Verne had seen other animals in his family go through heat; he knew what they went through, but he had never thought RJ would be the type to use someone else! Much less Hammy - he was practically a kid!
Years of overprotectiveness surged up to join the anger and Verne stood up, climbed over the root and marched over to RJ and Hammy. "RJ! I cannot believe you!"
RJ whimpered in alarm against Hammy's mouth and his eyes darted to Verne.
"Yes, I was watching! I heard everything! How dare you take advantage of Hammy? How could you? Don't you know how easily he gets attached? And you're just going to use him?"
RJ stared and then rolled his eyes. He still had yet to pull away from Hammy, tongue working frantically to dislodge the last of the peanut butter. Verne was still ranting away, getting on his last nerve.
"I trusted you! We all trusted you, and you're . . . you haven't even stopped! Have you no SHAME!"
RJ shut his eyes, trying to pretend Verne wasn't there. His tongue almost . . . had . . . it . . . there! RJ pulled the last glob out of Hammy's mouth and the squirrel gasped and fell back. RJ barely caught him by the arms and then spat the gob of peanut butter at Verne's feet.
"--oughta break your tail off and stuff it in your -- your . . . what's that?" Verne asked, tirade cut off as he looked down.
"Peanut butter," RJ said, wiping his mouth with a free paw. With the other, he pulled Hammy close and the squirrel buried his face in RJ's chest, taking deep shuddering breaths. "He had a little too much."
Verne stared. "Oh . . ."
"Yeah."
"I thought . . ." Verne began sheepishly. RJ waved a hand. He didn't much care to talk about it.
"No need. It's all good. The important thing is Hammy is allright."
A whimper interrupted them. RJ blinked and looked down. So did Verne. Hammy was still clutching at RJ's chest fur, face buried in it.
"I don't like peanut butter," he finally sniffled in a small voice.
Verne looked at him and then at RJ who was already rubbing Hammy's back, soothing the little squirrel. "I got him," RJ winked. After a moment, Verne nodded and walked off.
RJ watched him leave and looked down at Hammy. "I know. I'm sorry I had to do that."
"It's okay." Hammy's tail twitched and curled around his feet, draping over RJ's lap. RJ rested his back against a root and contented himself stroking Hammy's ears. "That thing you did earlier . . . that rib-pokey thing? Th-That was bad. The kissing thing was okay though."
"Ah. It wasn't exactly kissing," RJ corrected, feeling his face warm up a bit.
"It felt nice though. What was it?"
"Uhhh. . . . I don't really know what it could be called. It was certainly not CPR."
"What's see-pee-arr?"
"Hmm. Maybe it was French CPR. Uh. Stands for cardiovascular . . . something."
"I like kissing better."
"For the last time, it wasn't kissing--" RJ trailed off with a startled blink as Hammy gave him a little kiss - a real one - on the raccoon's nose. Hammy snuggled back under his chin.
"Like that," he murmured, starting to get comfortable in the sunlight that filtered through the leaves above them. When RJ didn't respond for a while, Hammy fell asleep. He never noticed when RJ finally looked down and kissed him very softly on the head.
"Yeah. Like that." RJ smiled and watched Hammy sleep for the longest time.