Winnipeg McTavish
Genre: Family, Friendship, Humour
Pairings: Greg and Molly, Chris and Amy McTavish (parents to Sam McTavish)
Main characters: The Lestrade family, the McTavish Family, and introducing Winnipeg "Winnie" McTavish, Black Labrador Retriever
Winnipeg McTavish, best known as Winnie, flopped down on the grass next to John Lestrade. She was a young dog, relatively speaking, but having so many playmates around was exhausting - especially given their love of the water. Winnie, as a labrador retriever, loved the water, and was full of seemingly boundless energy - but even she had her limits.
Winnie, having been named after the small black bear who, as British immigrants making a new life in Canada, the McTavish family had embraced as part of the largely un-thought of history of their new chosen home, sighed heavily. John occupied himself rubbing her ears and stroking her head, a little bit of leisurely pampering before her family and their visitors turned in for the night.
"Ugh," Greer groaned wearily. "Daddy. I'm SOOOO tired," she said, crawling into Greg's lap and crashing against his chest, one arm flopped around his neck.
"Fresh air getting to you Little Love?" Greg asked her gently, giving her back a quick rub.
Winnie heard the new voices and sighed heavily but happily, her thick ebony tail thudding softly and wearily against the ground.
"Yes, Daddy. And the swimming and the paddle boating and," Greer interrupted herself with a deep yawn, "and playing fetch with Winnie, and the mini-golf and the football…" she trailed off, yawning again. "I never thought it could be possible to find SO many things to do OUTSIDE," she declared. With deep brown eyes that were bleary from her youthful energy well and truly spent, but still bright with excitement, she grinned over at Sam, who himself had crashed on his dad's lap.
"Well it's different here than in London," Molly pointed out with a soft laugh. "I have to say it's rather refreshing. I never realized how much I needed this holiday until we were actually here."
"Beer, Greg? Molly? Or hot chocolate? Coffee? Tea? Anything?"
Greg contemplated Amy's offer for a moment. The air was cool and bracing against the contrast of the heat from the fire pit the Lestrades and McTavishes sat around. Greg found that while his legs and feet were toasty, perhaps even a bit TOO toasty, his back and shoulders were feeling a chill, and as such, he wasn't sure he really fancied a cold beer all that much. "What's already made?" he finally asked.
"Whatever you wish," Amy said. "Single serve coffee maker. Takes but a minute to prepare a cuppa if it's coffee or cocoa you wish," she smiled.
"Have we any Baileys left, love?" Chris asked, tightening his arms around Sam. "Perhaps a cup of coffee with a good healthy shot of Baileys would make a suitable nightcap?"
Greg thought this might be the perfect compromise, having already been served the lake country tradition in the mornings, and the afternoons, and several random times in between. Molly smiled as Amy offered her the same, nodding in gracious approval.
"Classic Canadian back yard fire pit bevvy," Amy said, winking as she departed momentarily. "There are some customs of this place that took NO time at all to get used to."
"We're lucky, Mr. Lestrade," Sam said, as he snuggled close to his dad. "The rural municipality lifted our fire ban only last week, or we wouldn't be allowed to treat you to this. The spring was rather dry, this year."
Molly rose an eyebrow at Greg. This was wholly and completely a foreign world for them, one that they had quickly fallen in love with for its natural beauty, and its sheer contrast to what they were accustomed to in London.
"No fires, at ALL?" John asked, from his spot at Molly's feet, where he busied himself cuddling Winnie.
"I can't imagine how BORING that must have been," Scott declared, from his spot on Molly's other side, as he contemplated crawling into her lap. He may be a big boy now, but a lad still liked a cuddle now and then. Besides, he was a bit chilled and Mummy looked awfully cozy in her oversized jumper. Staring into the fire was making him sleepy, and he fancied he might like to fall asleep with Mum's arms wrapped around him, just for old time's sake. Yeah, yeah, that was it. Old time's sake.
"None at all. The risk of a wildfire in the forest was too great," Chris said. "That's another thing we've had to get used to," he continued, as he took his cup from Amy's offering hand with an affectionate smile of gratitude. "Day to day precautions we never dreamed of ever having to consider. Of course now they're a matter of routine. Common sense really. Volunteer firefighter training is quite enlightening. So to speak."
"We've had enough rain the past month however, the RM has finally seen fit to lift the ban. Right in time for the August Long weekend too," Amy added, as she handed over steaming mugs to Greg and Molly. Much to Greer's delight, Amy handed her a cup of steaming hot decaf coffee as well, having heard that the young girl was wild for the brew. "We've been fortunate people have exercised common sense. Can't say I fancy the idea of Chris having to fight some great fire that some bloody dolt is responsible for."
"Oh, Canada Day weekend in the park was SO boring," Sam said sadly. "Oh the picnic was WONDERFUL, and the games, and making so many new friends and such, but we weren't allowed fireworks and I SO looked forward to fireworks our first Canada Day. We couldn't have a bonfire either."
"Well, at least without fireworks we were able to have Winnie with us, anyway we're allowed a fire now, Son," Amy said, laughing softly, "and rumour has it the Park board has made plans for fireworks this weekend. Since the Lestrades are here for another eight days, they'll be able to enjoy them too. I hear they're beautiful to see out here. They fire them off over the lake and the night sky is so bright and clear out here."
"Oh, Greg," Chris said suddenly. "Did Corporal Rhode get hold of you?" When Chris had mentioned that his son's friend from London was to be visiting, and her father was a Detective Inspector with New Scotland Yard, the NCO in charge of the RCMP detachment had offered Greg a day of ridealong, thinking she might like to hear of some of the contrasts between Canadian and British law enforcement, and investigations techniques in particular.
"She did," Greg said, with enthusiasm, as he adjusted a light blanket over Greer, and took a sip from his cup. "I'm quite looking forward to it, actually. The forecast is calling for rain tomorrow anyway. I might as well be warm and dry in an RCMP cruiser as anywhere else, I reckon," he chuckled.
Completely knackered but still too wired to actually nod off, and in her happy place between being on her dad's lap and having a cup of her own special coffee in her hands, Greer's ears perked. "Do you suppose I may go too sometime, Daddy?" she asked sweetly, as her fist came up in a vain attempt to stifle another yawn. "Not THIS time, of course, but another time? Oh I would SO love to be on a ridealong. It would be SO exciting! You get to go with a REAL Canadian policewoman tomorrow." Greer fairly swooned at the very notion of not only a Mountie, but a LADY Mountie commanding her very own police station.
"Well, I suppose I'll have to ask Cpl Rhode, Little Love. I'll let you know what she says, yeah?" he answered gently, placing a kiss on the top of her head. He turned to Chris. "Is there anything I should know before tomorrow? Bit of background on the detachment?"
"Well, you already know Cpl Rhode is the NCO in charge. She's three Members under her command here, plus a couple of Auxiliary Constables, one from the local First Nation. They're a small staff with a large area to cover, but they manage most of the time. Unfortunately even THEY aren't happy with response times as a rule. The rural detachments are often understaffed in comparison to the area they have to police."
Greg shook his head. Such an incredible contrast from what he was used to in London. Molly glanced over at him, herself now holding a contentedly sleeping Scott.
"I hope you don't intend to leave until after breakfast though, darling?" Molly asked, hopefully. "I've been looking forward to a full English brekkie for DAYS. Your bangers are the BEST," she teased. She wasn't sure that her husband hadn't blushed at that, given the warm light given off from the fire pit.
At the word "bangers", Winnie's ears perked up and she licked her chops. She may have been a Canadian born dog, but her family was British to the core, and she had learned those extra special words such as "chips", "biscuits", "pasties", and her favourite - "bangers" - that meant tasty things she may charm her way into small nibbles of. Turning her head to give John's hand a grateful lick, she rose and moved over to Greg's feet, flopping down with a groan and a sigh.
"Yes, well," Chris laughed at the look Greg gave Molly. "Full English breakfast is definitely in the plans tomorrow. We haven't had one of those ourselves for quite some time. We thought we might have a leisurely day of it, perhaps stick around town. You're here to relax," he laughed, "not leave here more exhausted than you were when you arrived from London!"
Greg chuckled at that, as he noticed John eyeing up the empty spot on his lap that Greer had failed to take up. Giving a silent nod to his oldest, John wasted no time perching himself gingerly, aware that he was big enough now to be a bit awkward with his growing limbs when cuddling with one of his parents, especially when sharing them with one of his siblings.
"Just a short while, Son," he whispered softly. "It's nearly bedtime for you." John gazed up at his dad with tired, bleary brown eyes and simply nodded, before resting his head against Greg's shoulder and promptly falling asleep.
"So how was your little getaway," Amy asked, smiling at Molly.
Molly cleared her throat and gave a sideways look to Greg, who merely smiled at her with pure mischief. "Oh, it was wonderful. The cabin, the beach, the sunset, the loons…"
"The northern lights," Greg continued, "the coyotes, the black bears… heard scratching at the screen door, might have been a rabid raccoon…"
"Sounds about right," Chris laughed. "Though it may have just been bats," he said, with a little too much deliberate casualness. "Or perhaps a skunk. Remember, it's always better to be pissed off, than to be pissed on."
Molly snorted at this, unable to stop herself.
Amy rolled her eyes slightly at her husband before catching his laughing eyes. "Well, we managed to catch the northern lights here as well. Did you dare take a swim?"
Molly shivered. "We dipped our feet in but that lake is bloody cold," she said. "One of the locals told us it's fed by streams. We found one of them too, stood in it barefoot. My feet ached in under a minute from the cold."
"Yes, and for the rest of the night you tried to warm them against my bloody back," Greg said teasingly.
Molly stuck her tongue out at him, knowing full well that the truth was, though he had flinched, and swore softly under his breath when her feet had made contact with his back, after that, he hadn't at all minded her warming the rest of her chilled little self against him that night. In fact, he had helped her to that end, with great enthusiasm.
"Yes, WELL," Molly said. "This coffee was divine, but I think I'm ready for bed, speaking of it." The plans for the next day had been laid out, and the morning seemed well in hand. "If someone might take this sleeping boy of mine so I can stand up?"
Greer, still awake, carefully slid off her dad's lap, mindful of Winnie at his feet. John, stirring and groggy, followed suit with a steadying hand from his baby sister. Tousling their hair with both hands, Greg took the few steps over to Molly and reached down, plucking his other sleeping son from her lap. Watching as Molly rose, Greg was surprised as she reached over, re-claiming Scott from his arms. Once again, he was amazed at how deceptively strong his wife was. Then again, he realized, she did post mortems for a living. Many of those tools required a certain level of physical strength. He glanced down at his other two, seeing Greer smile up at her groggy big brother, taking him by the hand and leading him behind Mummy.
Greg gazed thoughtfully at them, then turned to relieve Chris of the slumbering Sam, just long enough for their host to rise from his chair before reclaiming his boy. Winnie, having been sleeping contentedly at Greg's feet, finally stirred herself. Yawning with a deep whine, she licked her chops with a dazed look, wondering where all of her humans had suddenly gone.
"Come on, Winnie," Chris said, "It's bedtime big lass. Your new family awaits you, old girl."
Author's Note: Winnipeg's name was inspired by Winnie the Pooh, a character known best for his friends Christopher Robin, Piglet, Eeyore, Tigger, and company. Winnie, named "Winnipeg" after his adopted home by the English born Canadian soldier, Lt. Harry Coleburn, was purchased as a small cub from a trapper in Ontario in 1914. She stayed with Lt. Coleburn, becoming the regiment's mascot, and eventually managed to accompany him to England when they were shipped out for further instruction. There, Lt. Coleburn trained for 7 weeks on the Salisbury Plain, and when they were called to the Western Front, in December of the same year, Winnie was taken to the London Zoo, where she became the star attraction, and where she lived out the remainder of her years, to the age of 20. There, she became the inspiration for the iconic "Winnie the Pooh" books. Winnie's friend Christopher Robin, was none other than Christopher Robin Milne, the young son of A.A. Milne, who authored the books.