[c] Coffee and Sketchbooks

"The actual walking, not so much. Getting everying strapped up and ready to leave the house is torture."

As much as they all loved walks, some of them were tempramental when it came to donning leads. Sometimes he had to chase certain characters around the house to get them leashed up to go out. That was what took all the effort.

He handed over his cup obediently.

"And when they're playful." He heaved a heavy sigh and shook his head. "Even I'm not strong enough to stop half a dozen animals dragging me around when they have a mind to."

"I am going to have to see you walk the animals one day then."

He grinned at Fleck.

"As much as I want to say I will help I think it will be more entertaining to watch."

Besides, even though he knew he had the strength to hold all the animals, it still sounded like a stressful experience he would like to avoid.

"And it'll be just as entertaining seeing them all decide they want to play with the new toy. All at the same time."

Having two animals fight for your attention was bad enough. With close to a dozen depending on the situation, Dick wouldn't be in for a chance of surviving.

Fleck wouldn't even bother hiding his laugh when Dick met all the animals.

Poor man was in for it.

"Do a lot of fights break out then? I am guessing with all those animals some of them wont get on."

His thoughts went to his old mare, who hated everyone she mate. Didn't matter if they were horse or human, she would hate them. Dick was pretty sure she only tolerated him since he fed her.

"Usually only between the cats and skunks."

He paused for a beat, then spoke again in a dry tone. "...Or the dogs and skunks. Or the rabbit and skunks. Or the birds and the skunks."

The skunks were terrible for trying to pick fights. They had rough and tumble types of personalities. Well, all besides Cream. Cream was the lazy type.

"They're both little punks; picking fights with anything they can. Watch out for them."

He laughed.

"Sounds like they are quite the trouble makers, I will take your advice then."

As they walked along the boardwalk he spotted an opening along the sea wall.

"Do you want to walk along the beach?"

"If you dress up as a snake, you might be all right."

Or as Fleck's mother. She and the snakes were the only ones the skunks behaved for. His mother's ability to stop the skunks misbehaving was a kind of magic, Fleck was sure. Witchcraft.

"Sure."

He changed direction, walking towards the gap in the wall.

"I would rather not thanks. I don't think snake skin suits me too well."

Besides he found it a little weird for people to wear animal skins and furs. Which was a little hypercritical since back in the day that was about 90% of his clothing. But with synthetic materials, why would you choose to wear a dead animals body parts?

As soon as he stepped on the beach he groaned.

"Sand. I forgot about the sand."

He could already feel a nasty little grains work there way into his shoes.

"The only time snake skin ever suits anyone, is when the snake decides it wants to be a scarf."

More than once the snakes had decided that the closest persons neck would make the best napping place and would refuse to move, leaving reluctant people with a heavy scarf.

"We're on a beach and you forgot about sand?" Fleck arched a brow and let a teasing little grin curl his lips.

"Want me to carry you? Keep you safe from the evil sand?"

He pinked and let out a small huff.

"I forgot how irritating it is."

Shaking his head he laughed little at Fleck offer.

"No thanks. I will probably look ridiculous being carried."

They would probably look like father and son, or big brother and little brother if they did that. He looked young enough with his round cheeks and button nose.

"Then you'll just have to suffer the sand. Or take your shoes off and just embrace it."

Embracing a bad situation got you further than just complaining about it and trudging on.

"The offer's open."

With another huff he kicked off his shoes. It was odd how a few grains in your shoes was utter hell, but bare foot standing on millions of them felt slightly therapeutic.

"It is going to be hell putting the shoes back on... Sorry all I am doing at the moment is complaining. That mustn't be a lot of fun for you."

He scratch the back of his neck out of embarrassment.

"I live in a big family house with a zoo of misbehaving animals. You haven't scratched the daily complaining I hear."

It was almost considered a rarity in his house if someone wasn't complaining about something.

"And isn't it an English trait anyway?" From what he understood, what the English did best was complain.

"Dose that mean I can keep going? Out of respect for my heritage of course."

His lips stretched into a grin. He was glad he wasn't annoying the man - that was the last thing he wanted to do. He did wan't to meet up with him again.

"Well, if it's to respect your heritage, I can't say no, can I?" he asked with a quirk of the corner of his lips.

He grinned wider as his eyes dropped to the sandy floor.

"Any good at skipping stones?" he asked, swooping down to pick up a flat, round rock.

"I'm okay, but haven't done it in years."

He scooted the sand around with his feet until he found a pebble he liked the shape off.

Picking it up he rubbed his thumb over it's smooth surface.

"Let's make a bet. Whose ever skips the most wins."

Fleck toyed with the stone in his hand and pursed his lips like he was thinking on the bet.

"What are we betting?"

A teasing grin curled his lips.

"What do I get when I win?"

"What do you get?"

He remind quiet, racking his brain for something. He wasn't going to say something stupid like a five or a kiss (as much as the little voice in the back of his head wanted to).

"How about.... another sweet pastry. If I win, you buy me coffee."

"I think I can manage that."

He took a few ambling steps towards the water and grinned over his shoulder at Dick before he readied himself.

He let the stone fly.

It skimmed the water eight times before plopping under the surf.

"The floor is yours, Dick."

He frowned. Eight?

Sky blue eyes glared at Fleck. As much as he was was good at languages, Fleck must be good at skipping stones. That, or it was a lucky shot.

He readied himself, pink tongue sliding over his top lip in concentration before skipping it.

One. Two. There. Four. Five. Plop.

He huffed.

"Looks like I owe you a cake. Another round? You call the bets this time."

Fleck watched Dick's concentrated face intently as the man readied himself to skip stones. His eyes did shift away when Dick's tongue slipped out over his upper lip.

He'd never admit to the thoughts that had come to his mind.

"How about best two out of three for the cake and coffee?" he suggested, his gaze flickering back up to the Englishman.

Lord knows what his mind would have thought up for that bet if he let it after seeing that tongue.

He grinned, bending down to pick up a stone.

"Sure. I needed a warm up."

At least he had a winning chance now. He had to make sure he would win this round.

He readied himself again, deep in concentration. He flicked his wrist a little more the next and miraculously it hit the water not five or either times but nine.

With glee he clapped his hands.

"Some people would accuse you of being a hustler when you pull moves like that," Fleck teased.

He nudged the man gently then leaned down to find another stone.

This one only skimmed seven times.

"Well, that's one all. Time for the deciding throw."

Dick chose his pebble carefully. He wanted to win this. He wasn't bothered about the coffee or getting Fleck a sweet. It was more about he pride of winning.

"Here I go."

He wasn't sure it is was the angle he threw it at or if he got over excited and put too much strength into to but it didn't even skip.

"Well fuck."

Fleck pressed his lips together firmly to stop himself from sniggering at Dick's flop of a skip.

In a bout of mercy, he didn't go for another stone. He really didnt want to rub his winning in Dick's face.

"Now I have an I.O.U for another coffee date."