A/N: Hi, guys! I'm back for good, I guess. This chapter comes courtesy of my dear mother; the woman who suggested I watch the Tintin movie again when I was in a spate of boredom, the watching of which has inadvertently given me the inspiration and proverbial kick up the backside I sorely needed. I'm getting an obsession with Haddock's hands, seriously… wholly in a good way.
Still in alternating point of view (starting with Tintin), with a bigger exposé on everything that's happened in recent chapters, because I've still been giving this category the short end of the stick and even I'm wondering at this point.
This chapter has been completed for quite a while, but I've been putting off posting it for various reasons - the foremost being that I nearly had chapter six done too until my netbook died and I lost a good majority of what wasn't written down. Lucky for me I had thought ahead and placed this chapter in my doc manager before such an untimely death. Any typos are of my own folly! And everybody's darn cute in this chapter.
Chapter Five – Handyman
Giggling, I stood against the doorframe of my bathroom, the stick long forgotten, "This really isn't necessary, you know."
"If you have another accident like last week, I want to know you've got some way of getting yourself back up if I'm not there." He said chidingly, otherwise focused firmly on his work.
His 'work' was what gave cause to my distraction. His hands, unbelievably slender and well managed for a man who's spent his life at sea, had the power to bring me to oblivion in a few short minutes. I'd remind him of that fact when I was proven fit and healthy, but for now…
"You only went to restock the pantry, and I can promise I'll never do anything like that again." I still couldn't see why a 'no toast' rule had been implemented anyway, and I'd had my walking stick to lean against the whole time. Until Snowy had mistook it for a 'fetch!' situation… right when I was buttering with a very sharp knife.
Rubbing the bandages on my own hand in memory, I looked around in search of the dog in question. While my love was preoccupied with accident-proofing where I bathed every day, I had the time to check on the other residents of Marlinspike Hall.
I wouldn't get to the Professor's lab in time to see his latest experiment, especially with the crutch, but the absence of Snowy was far more worrying. Usually around this time you'd be able to hear his second unsuccessful attempt of the day to get one over on that blasted cat, undoubtedly with a god-awful clatter following in the dog's wake.
"Snowy!" I shouted down the hall, with little fear that I would be reprimanded by Nestor. Whistling a little in the tone my pet had come to associate with his owner calling him, I was surprised when it had no effect.
"I'm… gonna take a little stroll in the grounds. I've think the Professor's added a new species to his flora plot."
"Just don't take the stairs too quickly, love. Oh!" he seemed to have struck on something, succinctly moving his focus onto Tintin, "Isn't it about time Snowy had his bath?"
"Ah, yes, I'd completely forgotten." and I had; Snowy hadn't bathed once in the time I'd been in hospital, and it was starting to show.
Taking up my walking stick and sneaking out of the room, I sniffed around Snowy's usual haunts (being particularly thorough in the main kitchen), and was puzzled to find know sign of him, not even a small trail of debris. The cat was too calm for Snowy to have spooked it recently.
"Snowy, bathtime!" I yelled, eventually coming across an empty dog bed. I was almost about to give up when a terrible clue presented itself.
A small splatter of blood, only a few inches wide, was inlaid into the middle of the material and appeared to have been there for a couple of days.
"Captain!"
"We'll find your dog presently, Mr Tintin!"
"What my colleague means to say Tintin, is we'll be able to present you with your dog with our findings."
The first shook his head, "A bit of a mouthful, Thompson."
"What leads could you have? He lives here. I'm sure someone would notice if he was stolen!" despite his words, I could tell Tintin wondered how this had passed under either of their radars.
Snowy had become an invaluable lifeline over the years, to both of us. When he and his master had fallen into my life that fateful night, I'd known from the off that they came as a package. With no possibility of children, Snowy was the baby of sorts in our relationship – I'd promised early on that I wouldn't be surprised if one morning Tintin decided to dress him up in dog clothes.
The second Snowy hadn't turned up for breakfast that morning, I'd known something was up. Far be it from me to question my lover's noticing skills [or lack thereof], but there were times when he didn't let Snowy out of his sight. God forbid something really terrible had happened to the mutt on the one day Tintin was distracted. By the allure of a tinkering sea-captain, if I'm not mistaken.
"He won't have gotten far; chances are he found something to chase after and lost track of time."
"No, Snowy's tracking skills are impeccable; he wouldn't have forgotten the way home if he was miles away. Unless…"
"We'll get him back, lad." It tore me apart to see him like this. First the accident, now this… the universe was obviously conspirating against us. That dog was a part of us, whether we liked it or not.
With a sigh, I led the boy into the aft wing of the house, "In part, those fools are right; he'd never run away from his owner, and if he did he may even be hiding on neighbouring land."
Tintin's eyes lit up with that predatorial journalistic gleam I'd so missed, and I knew I'd hit on something, "You're right, Archie! Are there any dogs or other domesticated animals living on outlying lands? On a farm, perhaps?"
Dazed beyond my limits, I nodded, "There's a farm not too far from here that keeps livestock – I'm not too sure which, but it would be our safest bet for now. Do you want me to get the Thompsons on it?" part of me was really hoping he'd say no.
The boy immediately shook his head, making the sparse tears fly in all directions, "Of course not! No discredit to them, but Snowy's my responsibility."
"Ours, I think you'll find." I said, taking his hands into mine and being careful of the binding.
The brightest smile I could have hoped for graced his features, "I know, my Captain. Would you care to join me?" he looked down at our entwined hands, and I could see he was still as entranced by my calloused digits as earlier.
"Have something to tell me, boy?" I chided, smirking downright filthily.
"I love your fingers!" he giggled, pulling them to his lips before I could protest. The blush that ran through both our bodies was easily anticipated, and his usually hollow expression turned what could be misconstrued as 'saucy' in most European countries.
I didn't have time to react before he withdrew them again, letting them and the connected limbs fall to my sides.
Right when I'd gathered a semblance of sanity to speak, a strangled howl cut me off.
"Is that what I think it is." I said, looking around to see where it had come from.
"Y-yes. But… that can't have been Snowy, surely? Even if he was injured, he would have called out to us well before now. We must be hearing things."
"Both of us? And I suppose if he was as badly injured as that spot of blood led us to believe, he would have braved the outside world instead on finding somewhere to hold down until we found him? You're smarter than this, Tintin."
"You're right, Captain. That medication they prescribed me must be fuzzing my brain…"
"Yes, well, part of that's my doing. Now, shall we investigate where that noise came from, before I lose my mind?"
It hailed further down the corridor, where a trail of bodily fluids was slowly forming before them, "Oh, what could have happened to him? He's never been like this…"
"Shh!" I shouted, pressing a finger to my lips.
"Did you hear something?" Tintin whispering, eyes whipping in every direction.
"No, s'just your jabberin's getting on me noggin – and believe me, the amount of times I've wanted to say that to you." I said, sure a smirk was slowly gracing my lips,
"Very funny – WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TWO DOING?"
So shocked was I that my love had raised his voice, I barely turned round in time to see the idiot detectives tumbling through the doorway. I sighed, "Yes, what is it."
"It was getting boring in there on our own." one of them admitted sheepishly.
"We're following a lead – just don't make too much noise. This one's gotta a headache." Tintin said, gesturing to me and apparently the essence of calm in the house once again.
The Thompsons nodded in understanding, keeping their mouths shut and their feet on the ground to avoid further accidents.
Just peachy, I thought. Walking further into the dark corridor revealed that it, like many other parts of the great manor, had not been explored in a long while.
The howl we had heard earlier differed from the fretting whimpers we heard next. "There!" I exclaimed, overwhelmed with relief – not that I would ever admit that to anyone.
"What's happened to him! His stomach, it's… distended."
Being careful not to cause Snowy any more discomfort, I hoisted his surprisingly weighted body into my arms, and for once I was the one of us rendered speechless. How had I let the two most important people in my life nearly away from me, all in the course of a few weeks? After all I'd done to make sure they remained a permanent fixture in my sorry life?
"There doesn't appear to anything wrong with him externally. Whatever it is, it's obviously happening to his insides…" I breathed, little aware of the despair edging into my voice, before turning to the Thompsons, "What're you two waiting for, an invitation? Call a vet!" the strength coming back to my words momentarily, I was pleased when they heeded my words and bungled out to look for Nestor.
Tintin seemed to go pale (well, paler than usual), "Nothing wrong with him externally? His belly's not supposed to be that size!"
All my days captaining at sea could not have prepared me for this. A human being was easy to patch up in a fix, but a dog was a whole 'nother story – I'd only be glad when someone who's job it was to know got here.
"Captain!" Thomson shouted, tumbling through the low door.
"To be precise; ouch!" Thompson muttered, tumbling after.
"What are you two bumbling idiots doing now?"
"The vet; we couldn't find one."
"What!"
"They're all on holiday, apparently; bumper year for tulips." One of them said, though you couldn't be sure which. One of these days we'd have to work out a system.
"I find it hard to believe that all the veterinary specialists in the area have simply gone to Holland for the summer." Tintin said, his logical brain back in full force.
"I know. We had to make several calls to see if they were having us on; even Nestor was dubious about our results." The other one replied.
I'd spent enough time in a ship's medical bay to know when action was needed, but we'd have to improvise a few things…
A/N: I think I made Haddock the boss of this chapter. And Tintin's turned into a big girl's blouse, I'm so sorry! Unless you guys like that sort of thing – if so, HIGH-FIVES ALL ROUND! I don't know why I've started writing him like that but I'm rolling with it until he's his bad-ass seductive self again. I also wanted to see what you folks thought of this very Snowy-centric chapter, so enjoy a nice cliffhanger while I deliberate my own backwardsness. Can any of you guess how this 'Snowy arc' will culminate…?
I think warnings are needed for rant!Tin in the next chapter; I inadvertently wrote him a bit bitchy.