milliways_bar | (no subject)

Arthur. Bar. Drinking tea and looking at the puppy curiously.

"When did we get a dog?"

"Um," says Fenchurch.

"Last week, I think. Or else that's when I asked. Isn't he cute? A lawyer who comes here gave him to me."

He reaches over and scratches the pup behind the ears.

"Given him a name yet?"

"Nope. I was thinking about Dipstick, though."

The puppy barks at Arthur.

"Shh," coos Fenny.

Arthur takes a biscuit out of his pocket (no, not a dog biscuit, the regular kind) and starts breaking off bits to feed the puppy.

"Well, what are we going to do with you, little fella?"

Who happily munches them down, tail wagging.

"Oh, he's a real sweetie. He can sleep on the floor. Or on a pile of pillows. Or like, with us or something, maybe, when it's cold."

"Maybe," he agrees. "We'll get him a nice bed for when he sleeps on his own."

Having finished the last bit of his treats, the puppy wanders over to Arthur and starts nosing around for more.

And Fenchurch giggles, watching the dog.

"I'm glad you don't hate him. I was worried a little."

"Well I do wish you'd talked to me about it first, but I don't see any harm in having a dog around."

Besides, who could hate a face like that?

No one. See the cute? Puppy is cute. He looks up at Arthur and wags his tail some more.

"Um. I forgot. Spur of the moment?"

He gives her a look, but quickly backs down from the Relentless Cuteness.

And the puppy's pretty adorable too.

Yes, Fenchurch is cute too, though she's proud of the puppy.

"You like him then? What should we call him, do you think?"

"I don't know. Maybe we should ask people for suggestions and see which one fits him best."

There's also a young Perfectly Normal Beast in a paddock outside that still needs to be named.

Oh, Fenchurch could name the Beast. If she'd met it in person, which she hasn't.

"Somehow I'm not sure if people are gonna like 'Dipstick.'"

He looks at the puppy, who is now happily sprawled on the floor with his tongue hanging out, still wagging his tail.

"Hmm. Maybe not."

"But he does kinda look like one."

"A little."

He's trying to ignore the fact that the puppy is now tugging on his trouser leg.

Fenchurch, unfortunately, can't ignore it, and giggles.

"Want me to take him?"

He scoops up the squirming puppy and hands him to her.

"So what else have you been doing lately? Any other surprise pets I should know about?"

She takes the pup and curls her arm around him, scratching his head.

"Just flying about. Thinking. Making people tea. No other pets, I promise."

Random notices, then grins at the dog, then up at the woman holding it.

"Handsome animal."

Fenchurch smiles proudly.

"He is, isn't he? He doesn't have a name. What do you think?"

She lacks social convention, and therefore just starts on whatever random topic's on her mind.

He's good at that.

"Are you looking for something endearing, something stately, bizarre, intimidating?"

Notice that 'normal' is not on that list.

Because that translates into 'boring' in Random-speak.

"Um. Can it be ... bizzarely stately?"

Fenny cocks her head, smiling.

The pup does the same.

He snickers.

"I'd offer 'Random,' but it's taken. What about Benedick? Corwin? Bleys? Brand?"

Why no, he isn't naming his brothers. Why do you ask?

"Benedick is pretty. Like the guy. In that story."

Fenchurch is referencing 'Much Ado About Nothing,' but she can't recall the name.

"And Random is good as a name, but having two Randoms in one family would get confusing."

An arched eyebrow.

"Benedick is a good name. And Random... Well, I've always liked it. But I'm biased. Since it's the one I use."

A small grin.

"At your service."

"Is it your name! Oh! It's my boyfriend's daughter's name too."

She grins.

"Mine is Fenchurch. Fenny if you like."

"Pleased to meet you, Fenny. You must mean Arthur."

He sighs.

"It's not exactly common title."

"Oh, you know him? Yeah. Trillian named her because she thought she was, but it turned out she really kinda wasn't. Her middle name is Frequent-Flyer. That isn't yours, is it?"

Because that would just be scary.

A small snicker.

"Hardly. Princes only get one name, where I'm from. Uncommon enough, too."

"Princes? Shiny. Random is just a regular old girl and she has four, Random Frequent Flyer Dent, because she's all of those things."

Pause.

"... except the first one, I guess."

"Random?"

He grins.

"I'm the opposite. I've only the one, and it suits me perfectly. But is she 'frequent' and a 'flyer' or just a frequent-flyer?"

"Right, because the only possible father was Arthur, 'cause he was the only human man. So the donor banks eventually told her."

This all seems entirely normal to Fenchurch. Probably because there is nothing abnormal about anything if you're Fenchurch, who not only denies discordia, but denies reality.

"And she's neither. Arthur was given frequent flyer miles for giving to the sperm banks. I think."

"So 'Frequent-Flyer' is sort of an advertisement for a sperm bank?"

He frowns.

"That seems sort of terrifying."

"No, for airlines," she says nonchalantly, not figuring there's anyone in the world who has no idea what an airline is.

"Alright. Fair enough."

He ponders for a moment.

"Does she get free tickets if you show her birth-ceritificate?"

"... we've never tried that."

Fenchurch looks at him, eyes lit up.

"Good idea! Next time we travel."

"By plane."

He grins.

"It'd be worth a shot. That or you could get a hidden camera and take pictures of the peoples faces as you asked. Those you could sell as art."

He gestures as though reading a sign-

"Startled and Confused- a montage."

"Where would we hang the art?" Fenny asks innocently.

He gestures sweepingly at the room around them.

And smirks. A little.

"... that would work."

Another grin.

"Particularly well, I think. The Lady seems to encourage creative expression."