Two things before we get started. First and foremost, I would like to deeply thank everyone who took the time to comment on my story. It means a great deal to me that you're enjoying this story, and it makes me feel very happy when you reach out like that. So thank you.
Okay, next.
Confession time: I'm not really that into writing shipping fics. I have nothing against them, nor against anybody who writes them. It's not like that. It's just that, so many times in an active fandom, you look at the source material and wonder, "How many other avenues are there to explore that the original never will?" Either it can't, or it won't, or it's not interested in it. Whatever the reason, we write fanfiction because the original can't tell us everything about everything. But too many times, the only question the fandom seems to be asking, "What if these two characters totally kissed?" And then they totally do. And don't get me wrong, it can be awesome. It's just, when there is so much fanfiction out there shipping, ranging from barely literate to someone who could be the Jane Austen of fanfiction, I don't think I have anything to add. Usually I'll stick with canon parings and not make that the focus of the story.
This story sort of came out of a joke over lunch at a local burger place with my brother and my boyfriend. I was talking about how I didn't really like it when everybody has to be paired up with someone, and whenever two characters are together onscreen, they have to be in a romantic relationship. I think I was just mad and venting about something in a different show, when two characters I thought had a cute friendship had to be put in a romantic relationship. I'm like, isn't there anything else besides romantic relationships? Oh, hey, Cyril Sneer and Mrs. Pig hung out before. They must be in love!
Of course, we started laughing about how that would affect the pigs, with the main motif in our verbal horseplay being the squealy one constantly screaming, "He's kissing our mom!" But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that this was different from the kind of shipping fics I was tired of. Let's face it, a lot of fanfiction is written by teenagers, and a lot of romance is written from that perspective. Romanticized and inexperienced. Or a lot of it is flowery and idealized, getting two characters together without addressing the canon consequences. Not all of it, of course. Far from all of it. I was just disillusioned by what I'd been seeing far too much of for far too long.
This is something that takes a completely different direction. These aren't young birds falling in love for the first time. They've both been in love, and married, and lost the one they were married to in undisclosed circumstances. They've raised families and moved on. There's no sappy love theme, no purple prose (at least, I hope not. I count on my reviewers to keep me in check), but there's still a connection. There's maturity. I'm no longer a mooney-eyed teenager who wants her two favorite characters together. It's a reflection on how love can still happen even in a much later stage of life, and what that love might look like.
And yes, then they totally kissed.
Floyd ran screaming into the kitchen, where the pigs were helping Lady Baden-Baden's house staff for the evening. Currently they were bagging all the trash from the party, sorting out the recycling, and getting it out for curb pick-up in the morning so that the usual staff could focus on the guests.
"What is it?" asked Lloyd as his brother came careening into the kitchen and crashed face-first into the island.
"I saw- out in the garden- him and her-"
"Why were you in the garden?" asked Lloyd. "Weren't you supposed to be taking out a load of trash?"
"Part of the garden is next to the driveway," said Boyd.
"Oh, yeah."
"Under the tree- and they were kissing!"
"Who was?"
"The boss!"
"Kissing who?" The other two pigs didn't understand why the sight of their boss kissing someone was freaking Floyd out so much.
"Our mom!" Floyd shrieked.
Boyd got an ice pack for Floyd's snout. "Wait, what?"
Floyd pressed the pack against his face. "He's kissing our mom!"
"You mean the boss and..."
Floyd nodded eagerly, glad they finally got it. "Yes! He's kissing our mom!"
"Oh, wow," said Boyd. "I... uh, I don't know if that's such a good..."
"We can't let him know you saw him," said Lloyd.
"But he was kissing our mom!" insisted Floyd.
"Right, and for now, we don't want anyone to know. You know how the boss gets when we find out things he doesn't want us to know."
"But we have a right to know! It's our mom!"
"Then we'll wait for her to tell us."
Floyd looked at his brothers, and then threw his hands up. "He's kissing our mom!" he shrieked again.
"Well, now you're in here, so you don't have to look at it anymore."
The next morning, when Floyd went out to get the Evergreen Standard off the porch, he nearly had a stroke. There, on the front cover in black and white, was Cyril Sneer kissing Mrs. Pig under the willow tree.
Cyril was woken up quite suddenly by a shrill squealing that grew louder and louder and louder, and then quieter and quieter as the source of it streaked past his room, the echo of the squeal bouncing off the walls down the hallway back to him. Cyril threw on his robe and stormed down the hall to the stairwell that lead to the pig's basement room, where Floyd was trying to open the door but couldn't because he was that frantic.
"Give me that!" Cyril snarled, snatching the paper. Floyd had a death grip on it, though, and didn't let go. Cyril tugged and tugged, and then finally just let go, causing Floyd to fall backwards onto the ground. He opened the door and kicked Floyd through it. Cyril had caught a brief glimpse, but he didn't have to be a genius to figure out what could be on the front page that was upsetting Floyd so much. He stormed back up the hall to the nearest phone.
Floyd bounced down the stairwell until he skidded to a stop in front of his brothers.
"Starting a little early today, aren't you, Floyd?" said Boyd. He was heading into their dingy little bathroom to brush his teeth.
Floyd thrust up the paper. "He's kissing our mom!" he said.
"We know, we know," said Lloyd. "You haven't stopped saying that since last night."
"Now he's kissing her in the newspaper!"
Lloyd snatched the paper from Floyd. This time it was successfully removed from his hands. "Well, now we don't have to keep it a secret that we know," he said.
"I wasn't going to, anyway," Boyd called from the other room through a mouth full of toothpaste.
"Anyway," said Lloyd, "as long as Mom is happy, we should be happy for her."
Boyd spat the toothpaste out into the sink. "How about this," he said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve as he rejoined his brothers. "Maybe now that Mom and the boss are so friendly with each other, he'll start treating us better."
"But he's kissing-"
"Kissing our mom, I know," said Lloyd. "Go freak out somewhere else, okay?!"
Floyd got up and sulked out of the room.
At the offices of the Evergreen Standard, the raccoons were already hard at work on the next day's edition. Melissa, Ralph, and Bert were all working on various aspects. Ralph, in particular, was planning the layout of the next issue. He was holding up the current paper and looking at it in a dissatisfied way.
"Something wrong, Ralph?"
"I just don't think this is front page material," said Ralph. "It's gossip, plain and simple. It's not news what rich person is dating whom. That's what other newspapers do, and they always end up being trashy."
"It's a good picture, though," said Melissa. "And it sells papers."
"I don't just want to sell papers, though," said Ralph. "I want to print papers worth buying."
Melissa nodded with understanding.
"Although," Ralph added, "I do like how it gets under Cyril's skin."
Bert coughed from over at his desk.
"Something wrong, Bert?"
"Huh? Oh, no, no, of course not!" Bert said quickly.
"Except...?"
"Well, I don't know if I should say..." Bert trailed off and then went back to his typewriter, quickly pressing random keys to appear too busy to bother.
"What is it, Bert?" Melissa pressed.
Bert couldn't keep it in any longer. "It's just that the other day Cyril was feeling really sick and they needed Cedric to come home right away to take care of him. I don't know. This might be a little much for him."
Melissa looked at the picture on the front page from her own copy of the paper. "I don't know," she said, "he looks fine to me."
"Sometimes these things come and go," said Bert.
"If he really is sick, why would Cedric leave to watch a skating competition?" Ralph pointed out. "It can't be that serious."
"Who knows? Maybe Cyril just doesn't want his son missing out. Maybe he's been sick for a long time and everyone at the house knows it. It's nothing new- it's just getting worse."
"Well, don't jump to any conclusions," said Ralph. "That's his business for now." He held up the paper. "Just like this is his business. I don't mind running a story like this every now and again on a slow news day, but I don't want to turn into a supermarket tabloid, okay?"
"Okay, Ralph," said Melissa. "From now on I'll keep pictures like that for my private collection."
"Good," said Ralph. Then, suddenly, "Wait, what private collection?"
Melissa gave him a sly grin.
"What other kinds of photos are in a collection where this kind of picture would be at home?!"
"Wouldn't you like to know," said Melissa, and she went back to typing.
On his way back to his room, Cyril bumped into Mrs. Pig. "Oh! Excuse me," he said. Then he cleared his throat. "Did you happen to see the newspaper this morning?"
"I have a good idea of what's in it," replied Mrs. Pig.
"Don't worry, I'm about to call the Evergreen Standard and give them a piece of my-"
Mrs. Pig held up a hand. "Please, don't. It's really not a problem. I think we should just ignore it. Who cares what everyone else has to say?"
"Uh..." It hadn't occurred to Cyril that Mrs. Pig wouldn't be upset or embarrassed over the picture. He was all ready to chew out the newspaper on their behalf, and here she was calm as could be.
"Right now I think I need to talk to my sons about it. I really didn't think they would find out about last night..."
"Yeah, but about last night..." Cyril cleared his throat. They hadn't had a chance to talk about it. After Cyril chased Melissa back into the ballroom, he had gathered everyone together and they had all gone home. The car ride back was completely silent, except for one of the pigs hyperventilating in the front seat. After that they had all gone to bed.
"About last night," Cyril repeated. "What was it?"
"It was wonderful," said Mrs. Pig. "And I wouldn't mind if there were many more nights like it." She smiled at him. She had a beautiful smile.
Cyril grinned. "Great." He gave her shoulder an affectionate squeeze. "Why don't you go talk to your boys? I'll open up for the day."
Mrs. Pig left and went down to her son's room. She found them all just finishing getting dressed. Floyd was lying on the ground on his back spread eagle and staring at the ceiling.
"I take it you saw the newspaper this morning," said Mrs. Pig.
Lloyd and Boyd nodded. "Actually," added Lloyd, "Floyd saw the real thing last night."
Floyd mumbled something under his breath that sounded remarkably like "kissing our mom."
"Come sit down, boys." She sat down on the edge of one of the beds, and Lloyd and Boyd sat down on the floor in front of her. "As you already know, your boss and I took a walk in the garden last night, where he chose to... express romantic feelings for me-"
Floyd covered his ears. "La la la la la la la not la la listening!"
"And truth be told, after I thought about it, I think I might feel that same way about him."
"But you're supposed to be here for us," said Boyd.
"I'm here for you," said Mrs. Pig. "I'll always be here for you. I'm just also doing a little something for myself. You understand, don't you, boys?"
"Yes, mom," said two of the pigs.
"I knew you would." She kissed the two on the top of their heads. "You're such good boys." She knelt down and kissed Floyd on the snout. He immediately stopped singing. "You be good today, all right?"
"Yes, Mom," said all three.
"When you're done with work, we should have a little talk about your court appearance. How does that sound?"
"Just fine, Mom," they replied.
"Good. I've been thinking I should make you some nice new suits to wear..."
When it was closing time for the Evergreen Standard, they still hadn't received a call from Cyril. At first Ralph and Melissa hadn't taken Bert seriously, but as the hours went by with no tirade from an angry aardvark, they began to wonder if maybe, just maybe, the reason for that was because he wasn't feeling up to it.
"I'm telling you," said Bert, "he's totally spent from the party. That was all the energy he had for the week. He won't be able to yell at you until at least next Tuesday, and that'll be it for the next week."
"You're way off, Bert," said Ralph. He was trying to set up the press for running off the next issue.
"Then why hasn't he called to chew you out like you do every time you run his picture?"
Melissa shrugged. "Maybe it just didn't bother him."
"Didn't bother him?! Are you listening to yourself? Didn't bother him? Everything bothers him! You ran a picture of him skipping stones at the river and he threatened to sue us into oblivion! And now you print a personal candid and he just lets it roll off his back?"
"Well, he has matured," said Melissa.
"Making environmentally friendly products and giving the press free reign over reporting your life are two different things, Melissa," said Bert.
"That's true," mused Ralph.
"So you agree with me!"
"I didn't say that," Ralph responded. "I'm just beginning to think that it kind of makes sense."
"Don't you start," said Melissa. "Look, when Cedric gets home we'll ask him, but until then I don't want to hear any more rumors."
"Isn't that what you want to run, though? Rumors and gossip?"
"Gossip might not be news, but it was still fact, Ralph."
Ralph picked up the papers on the edge of his desk and tapped them heavily, signifying that the conversation was over. Melissa agreed.
Back at Sneer Manor, a new visitor arrived. This one was previously unknown to the residents and guest. He was a sleek, brown weasel with a white tummy and a nicely pressed suit, clutching a briefcase in his left paw. He rapped with the doorknocker three times, and in a moment the pigs answered.
"Yes?" they all said at the same time.
"Hello, yes, my name is Linus Mustela. I'm a defense attorney. I received a call from a mister Cyril Sneer, asking for my assistance in an upcoming hearing."
"That would be for us," said Lloyd, "but there's no way the boss would have called you about it. He isn't speaking to us."
"Except to give orders," added Boyd.
Linus shrugged. "Okay, you got me. I just heard about the case and thought I'd drop by. Here's my card, if you're interested."
Lloyd took his card. "Thanks," he said, "but I think you're a little out of our price range."
"Yeah," said Boyd, "there's no way the boss is going to foot the bill for something this-"
Just then, Cyril bellowed from inside the mansion, "Who's at the door?"
"Linus Mustela!" Floyd shouted back.
"Linus Mustela? What's he want?"
"To represent us in court!"
Linus put his paws over his ears and winced.
"Wait a minute, I'll be right there..." A minute later, the pigs were yanked from the doorway and were replaced by Cyril. "So, you're the famous Mustela, huh? Not much to look at."
"I believe you've seen my work in the courtroom, yes?" Linus asked.
"Yeah. I hear you're good."
"Well, I've been following the case of Midas and the environmental dumping, and I really think-"
"That you could get some great publicity for yourself?" Cyril finished snidely.
"No," said Linus, "that representing the pigs would be both challenging and lucrative."
"Well, I already have a lawyer," said Cyril.
"A corporate attorney," said Linus. "That's different. Have you even asked him about this?"
Cyril hadn't intended on giving his pigs any legal help whatsoever, to tell the truth. Now, though, he took Linus's business card and looked it over. "Hm. I'll think about it." Then he closed the door in Linus's face.
Linus, who had heard a lot about Cyril's temperament, didn't take it personally and he didn't write anything off. He just turned around and padded down the stairs, confident that Cyril would soon be contacting him.
"You've been talking to the pigs about their court date?" Cyril asked.
Mrs. Pig was caught off guard, because she had been sitting in her room and embroidering. Cyril was leaning in the doorway, puffing on his cigar, and looking at her with his head tilted down. He'd just come in and said it.
"Yes," said Mrs. Pig. "I've been talking to them about what they're going to say, and how they'll be polite and well-dressed, and-"
"-And they'll get sent up the river along with Midas," finished Cyril. "Good manners aren't going to make them less guilty."
Mrs. Pig frowned. "I don't know what you're trying to say, Mr. Sn- Cyril," she changed familiarity levels mid-phrase, seeing as how they were on a different level now.
"They need a good lawyer," said Cyril. "A mother's touch will go far, but they need a good defense to build on."
"I don't really have-"
"They're my employees," said Cyril, "so I'll foot it. It'll come out of their paychecks if they win."
Mrs. Pig bowed her head so he wouldn't see her face flush. "Oh, Cyril, I don't know what to say... you're being so generous to me."
"Again," said Cyril gruffly, "it's not a lot of money."
"I'd heard you part with your money as easily as a mother eagle parts with her chicks," said Mrs. Pig.
"Who told you that?! The raccoons? Have you been talking to the raccoons about me?"
"Calm down, Cyril," said Mrs. Pig gently.
Cyril chewed on his cigar and scowled, but didn't say anything more about the raccoons. Then he left for his office. He turned the business card over in his hand as he picked up the phone, then he dialed. "Hello? Yeah, it's Sneer here. Linus Mustela, right? When are you available for a meeting?"
The next day, the doorbell rang again, and again, the pigs answered it. Again, it was Linus, only this time he didn't get the brush-off.
"I got a call from Mr. Sneer to have an introductory meeting with you," he said. "Is now good?"
"Uh, sure," said Lloyd. "We aren't working right now..." he glanced at his brothers.
Boyd shrugged. "I'm good with it."
"Are you crazy?" Floyd shrieked.
"What? What's wrong now?" Lloyd was annoyed.
"We'll be with you in a second," said Boyd.
Floyd grabbed his brothers by the collars and kicked the door shut. Floyd shouted at his brothers on the other side, "The only reason he's doing this is because he kissed our mom!"
"Are you still stuck on that?" Lloyd growled.
"One minute he hates us, then all of a sudden he's paying for a pricy lawyer? Doesn't this bother you even a little?"
"Are you kidding?" Boyd piped up. "This is the best thing that could happen!"
Floyd's jaw dropped. "What?"
"Look, as long as he wants to say on our mom's good side, he'll have to treat us better. You said it yourself! One minute he can't stand the sight of us, the next he's hiring fancy lawyers! And all we have to put up with is-"
"The fact that he's kissing our mom!"
Just then the door opened. Cedric was standing in the doorway. "Um, is there a reason famous defense attorney Linus Mustela is sitting on our porch stairs?"
"Master Cedric!" Floyd squealed. "You're on my side in this, right?"
"Um... that depends on what 'this' is."
Floyd opened his mouth, and Lloyd quickly shut it. "Our mom and your dad are in love," said Lloyd patiently.
"They're very happy together," added Boyd.
Surprised, Cedric looked at each of the pigs. "Oh." He seemed to be unsure if they were serious.
Floyd held up the picture from the Standard.
"If it bothers you so much, why do you carry it around?" muttered Boyd.
Cedric took the picture and scrutinized it. "Pop and Mrs. Pig?"
With his mouth still forcibly shut, all Floyd could do was nod eagerly.
Just then Cyril came up to the group. "Outta my way. Isn't there a better place to be having this conversation?"
"Pop!"
Cyril beamed. "Cedric, my boy! When did you get back?"
"Just now. Is it true?" He gestured to the picture.
"Yes, it's true."
Cedric smiled. "I'm happy for you."
Floyd screamed in frustration.
"How'd the competition go?" asked Cyril.
"So-so. Sophia only placed fourth."
"Fourth? That's not so bad." Cyril pat his son on the shoulder.
Cedric blinked a few times in surprise at Cyril's compliment towards his girlfriend.
"Now that you're back, do you mind watching the office? I want to take Suey Ellen out to Jack Pine for a picnic lunch."
"Sure, Pop. Just be back by dinner. Me and Sophia are having dinner at the Blue Spruce Café. To celebrate and check out the new karaoke machine."
"Sounds fun. Maybe we'll join you." Cyril left.
Cedric turned to the pigs. "Has he been like this the whole time I've been gone?"
Boyd nodded. "Pretty much."
There was a light rap on the door. "Excuse me?" said Linus, voice muffled by the thick wood. "I don't mean to pester, but are we having this meeting or not?"
Lloyd opened the door. Floyd bolted out without a word as Linus stepped in. "All right," he said. "Let's go over this."
Cyril got his yacht and sailed Mrs. Pig to Jack Pine Island in style. "This is a great spot," said Cyril. "I always wanted to buy it and put a resort on it, but the province wouldn't sell."
"I think it's nice as it is," said Mrs. Pig a she stepped onto the shore.
Cyril stepped down behind her. "You might be on to something," he mused. "So what do you want to do first? Climb the tallest tree? Sail up the longest river?"
Mrs. Pig laughed gently. "How about we start with that picnic?"'
"Yeah, that sounds right." Cyril spread out the checkered blanket.
In everybody's life, just once
Hopefully twice
Someone will write you a song
They ate and talked, and laughed. At one point, Cyril tried to feed her sandwich as she tipped a glass of juice into his mouth. Unfortunately, because of the awkward positioning she was way off. It went up his nose instead and he sneezed juice all over her. They both laughed.
In everybody's life, just once
Hope for it twice
Someone like you comes along
And he did try to climb the tallest tree for her, but he only made it two branches up before it snapped and he fell on his back. She leaned over him, concerned, but he smiled up at her. As long as she was around, he felt that there was nothing that could hurt him... although his back was probably going to be pretty sore come morning.
And gets me singing
All through the night
He pulled her down into the brush next to him. She was so surprised she squealed. He squeezed her close to him.
When you're singing
I hold you so tight
They got up, and Cyril led her deeper into the forest, up the islands highest hill. He held her hand tightly as he guided her through the trees.
When you're singing
You make it so right
And from the highest point on the island, they could see every inch of the Evergreen Forest, all the way to the mountains in the distance. She wrapped her arm around his, leaning into him. And for the longest time, he just sat there, drawing comfort from the one he loved and admiring the gorgeous scenery, all the while washed over with a warm feeling, a feeling of being eternally grateful...
That someone like you came along.