Chapter 7: The Invite

It had been a nice day. The girls had been okay with seeing the new house being built, he'd been hesitant about showing them, but when he heard that it was all framed out he'd decided it was worth an attempt. Upon hearing the endless string of questions they had for the construction workers as Brett had led them through the house, well, it had made Bandit glad that they were starting to head back toward their usual selves. They'd had dinner and even played a game, the girls had decided that they wanted to be construction workers and Bandit had to be the house they were fixing-Any excuse for Bluey to jab me with one of her blocks, the cheeky bugger. Then they'd watched a little television, then he'd gotten the girls into bed. Bandit dreaded going to bed, while his nightmares had stopped, his other dreams had become increasingly persistent.

Bandit was sitting in the backyard of the house watching the girls play in the yard with Lucky and Chucky. After a few minutes Bluey came over. "Dad, can we have lunch at Lucky's house? His dad made sausages for lunch!" She asked, a please face already present before she'd finished the question.

"It's alright, I don't mind." Pat replied from over the fence.

"You sure mate?" Bandit asked, grinning, "You know these two are basically black holes when it comes to sausages."

Pat rolled his eyes, "Why do you think I'm inviting them over? Shanelle got a jumbo box at the Costco and I've got to get them finished before they go off."

"Alright girls, but pace yourselves, I don't want to have to deal with any grumpy tummies later!" He tickled Bluey's stomach.

"Alright Dad!" Bingo shouted as she darted over into the Retriever's yard, Bluey following closely behind at the promise of sausages.

Bandit grinned a moment as he darted into his own home. He paced through the kitchen to see his wife's backside rooting through the fridge.

"Hon, the kids are next door for lunch. You okay for a quickie?" He asked placing a hand on her lower back, tickling her slightly with his fingertips.

"Bandit Heeler, are you propositioning me?" She said, turning around.

"Maybe…"

Chilli glanced at the oven clock. "Alright, but we've got to make it quick. And you're cleaning it up this time."

Bandit sighed, "Fine…" He grinned, picking her up. "I'll make it somewhere easy to tidy, then."

"Here?" Chilli asked, equally aroused and abashed.

"We've got at least half an hour. Besides, I locked the door behind me…" Bandit growled as he nibbled on Chilli's ear. He lifted her to the counter and slowly started kissing her cheek and neck.

After a bit of positioning they began in earnest.

"Oh Bandit!" She clung onto him. He could feel her moving back and forth as he did the same.

"Oh Chilli!" He grunted, his eyes closed as he focused on the movement. Jesus, how am I this close already? Am I really that pent up?

"Oh Bandit!" Her voice sounded deeper.

Bandit opened his eyes. "Brett?!" He yelled as he looked down; Chilli had turned into Brett, genitalia and all.

"Bandit, come on. You know you want to finish." He murmured a small grin spreading on his face.

Bandit stared a moment at everything, his body still moving of its own accord in the same rhythmic pattern as before-though now with some additional flopping matching its movements.

"I do."

Bandit's eyes flung open as he shot upright. He immediately felt a warm and uncomfortably sticky sensation around his waist. Holy shit. He hesitantly lifted the covers. Well, these sheets are spoiled. He slowly rolled out of bed, trying not to jostle any still sensitive body parts. Alright, I need a long cold shower, then to bleach the hell out of these sheets.

***BCH***

It was a Friday evening and Bandit had decided he would finally take Ted's advice and see if Brett would be willing to get a drink with him. Over the last two weeks he'd been steadily increasing the time he spent around the worksite while still being careful not to get to an obnoxious level. So far everyone seems okay with me, even if I've spent a small fortune buying pizza for lunch in the process. The other workers had left for the day, leaving Brett behind to get things in order for Monday. Bandit found him in the now partly drywalled second floor, double checking some framing on what was going to be a closet. Bandit knocked on the stud that would one day be for a doorway, causing Brett to turn toward the sound.

"Oh, hey Bandit." He said, looking up from his notes. "Checking in again?"

"Sort of…" Bandit said, hesitantly rubbing his arm, "I wanted to thank you for everything you've done so far, least of all putting up with me popping in to see how things are going."

"Ay, it's no problem mate. You wanna make sure it's being done right, I understand."

Okay Bandy-boy, it's now or never. "Well, in any case, I wanted to invite you out for a drink at least. Y'know, show my appreciation and all."

Brett glanced at watch a moment before he responded. "I suppose I can, I'll just have to call my sister first, let her know I'll be back a bit later for the kids."

Wait, he has kids? Is he married? Bandit glanced at Brett's left hand. He doesn't wear a ring… Bandit felt his confidence waver. "If it's an inconvenience, maybe another time."

"Oh no, you offered me a drink, I'm gonna take you up on it." Brett replied a cheeky grin darting across his face. "Just let me call my sister and then we can figure out where."

He pulled out a phone from his tool belt and tapped a few times before holding it up. After a few moments he spoke. "Hey Sherri, it's me. How are the boys?" He paused, listening to someone speak. "Good! I'm glad to hear that. Hey, I got invited out for drinks tonight, would you be okay with watching the boys for a little longer? I'll be there by 8 to get them; I'm not planning on having much." Another pause. "Awesome! You rock Sher; tell Bentley and Baxter I love 'em. Bye!" He hung up the phone and turned to Bandit.

"She's good with it, so long as I'm back by 8."

Bandit nodded, "Works for me."

"So, where do you want to go? I'm up for anywhere, really."

Bandit thought, "You into rugby? There's a good sports bar I sometimes go to about 15 minutes from here."

Brett raised an eyebrow, "Am I into rugby? Mate, I'm breathing aren't I?"

Bandit chuckled. "It's called Halloran's. You need the address?"

"Eh, I'll follow you. I'm not one for gadgets, that was my wife's thing."

***BCH***

After pulling into the parking lot Bandit and Brett went in and got a booth.

"This place seems pretty nice; they've got some good stuff on tap." Brett said as he appraised the beer list.

"Yeah, my mate Pat and I used to come here all the time before we had kids, since then we had to slow a bit." Bandit shrugged, "I don't mind though, small sacrifices and all."

"Your girls seem really great." Brett said, looking up from the menu. "You brought 'em around a little while back. The older one, she's a lot like you, I can tell."

Bandit smiled, "Bluey's a good kid, I just hope she doesn't end up too much like me. I haven't exactly been a great father the last two months"

Brett frowned slightly, "Why not? You're a good guy." He paused, considering his next words a moment before he spoke, "Bandit, raising kids on your own, it's tough. You're doing fine. Believe me, I know the struggle."

Bandit tilted his head slightly, "You do?"

Brett sighed, "My wife Sara, I lost her four months ago."

"Crikey, mate I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring it up." Bandit felt guilty, he knew how it stung whenever he had to talk about losing Chilli, Even if Ted is helping with it.

Brett waved his hand. "I need to talk about it sooner or later to someone besides my therapist, and besides, us widowers need to stick together, right?"

Bandit cracked a small smile at his remark, "How about we get a drink and talk a bit about them?"

"Sounds good to me."

A few minutes later their beers arrived and Bandit started. "I guess it's only fair if I go first, since I was the one who brought it up." Brett nodded his consent.

"You already know I lost Chilli in the fire, but honestly, sometimes I wish it had been me. She was my whole world outside of our daughters, and without her…" He paused, glancing at the beer in front of him, "I just don't know what to do sometimes." He pulled out his phone and flipped to his pictures. "Here's us a few days before it happened, we had a cookout with the neighbors. It seemed so normal; I never thought anything would change. But then there was the fire. Now my kids are finally starting to get back to themselves, but I'm still a mess half the time and I feel like shit because I'm just acting okay and I can tell they're finally starting to heal and get ready to move past grieving, but I'm still stuck." Bandit pulled at his ears as his eyes started to water.

Brett put his paw on Bandit's and looked him in the eye, "You aren't stuck. You're just going at a different pace. Kids, they're resilient. My middle one is almost the same as he was before, granted, Baxter's always been better at getting over things, but still." Brett pulled out his phone and flipped to a picture of his family. It showed him happily standing beside a clearly pregnant grey heeler. In front were two boys who looked around Bluey and Bingo's ages, the older one looking like a mix of his mother's marks and father's color, and the younger almost a carbon copy of his father, with a few extra marks here and there.

"This was the morning of the accident. Bentley, my oldest, had just won his science competition and we all went to the school to watch him get his trophy. Afterwards we decided to celebrate and walk to an ice cream shop a few blocks over." He paused, a lump forming in his throat. "Sara ended up getting hit by a driver who was high on some prescription drugs he's swiped from someone. I ended up with a broken arm getting the boys out of the way."

Bandit's color drained from his face. "What about your pup?"

Brett closed his eyes as he tried to keep the memories from flooding back all at once. "Sara managed to hang in until we got to hospital. They did an emergency c-section. Bradley was okay, early, but okay." He paused, the lump almost cutting off the air in his throat, "She passed away on the operating table, she never got to meet him."

Bandit paused, "Jesus mate, I can't imagine…"

"You don't have to; you're going through your own shit right now."

Bandit was silent a moment before he spoke, a thoughtful look on his face, "How old are you boys?"

"Bentley's 9 and Baxter just turned 6 last week. Bradley's 4 months on Tuesday. Why?"

"My girls are around their ages. Bluey's 7 and Bingo's 5. Do you think it might help them to get a chance to talk to other kids who've gone through something similar?"

Brett bit his lip, "Maybe, but I've got to warn you, Bentley's been a bit off."

"So has Bluey."

"I guess it could help, our therapist said he's trying to start a support group for kids in grieving, but it hasn't started yet."

Bandit narrowed his eyes, "Wait, this therapist wouldn't happen to be Ted Beagle, would he?"

"You know Ted?"

Bandit smirked, "I go to Ted, and so do my girls."

"Wow. Small world." Brett remarked. "I guess I could do something, the boys would probably be up for it, they're starting to want playmates again."

"How about Sunday?" Bandit asked, glancing at his phone's calendar.

"Sure, that works for me. Where and when?"

"There's a park a few minutes from here that's got a nice play area, fenced in and all."

"The boys would like that. We live a bit from here, but not too far, so a new park could be a good experience."