lady_moon | Indy and Mike's Suite

Indy and Mike's Suite

Moon comes to the door, her arms fully of three-week old grey-brown fluffness and knocks.

Mare is by her side, eyes moving between the door and the puppy. The puppy, it should be said, looks like he is not two weeks old, but more like six. He's big and alert and quite happy, squirming in Moon's arms.

She'd promised Indy the puppy, and when she'd seen the little boy among the litter, she'd known this guy was the one meant for Indy.

Moon waits with a big smile on her face, giggling quietly as the puppy licks her chin and nips playfully on occasion.

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Indy's tousled, bleary head appears round his bedroom door.

"Hey. I thought this was quiet time," he grunts.

"Some people are trying to nap here."

Moon is giggling, cause she thinks Mike is amusing and cute and how could she not let him hold the very anxious, eager puppy?

"Here," she says, passing the puppy over into Mike's hands. "He's still a baby, though."

Mare is keeping his eyes on the puppy and the squeeing man.

After all, he'd never seen a squeeing adult male human before. It was... interesting.

Moon peers around Mike and gives Indy a cute wave, wrinkling her nose. "I brought your puppy to visit, but I think you'll have to wait until Mike is done with him."

Now that Mike has the puppy the squee'ing has stopped, or at least it's been toned down a whole lot.

When Moon informs Indy that he'll have to wait until Mike is done with the puppy, Mike turns and sticks his tongue out at Indy.

"You snooze, you loose valuable puppy time. Isn't that right? Yes it is! Yes it is!"

It should be noted that Mike's never really seen a puppy this close before. They used to have a nasty habit of barking at him.

Indy squints at the bundle of gray in Mike's arms.

"My puppy?"

He gives Moon a quizzical look. Which quickly fades.

"Oh right. My puppy.

He scratches his cheek and adopts a very dry tone.

"And you gave him to Mike. The most over-nurturing over-coddling parent in the history of... pets, babies... and young things."

"My boy's off to a great start."

Moon steps inside with Mare at her heels, his eyes still on Mike.

"Well, in this progressive world, with same-sexed parents and such, you should be happy your son will grow up to tolerate such diversity," Moon says smartly as she crosses over to give Indy a hello kiss. "He's two weeks old now. Mons was more willing to let the puppies out of her sight."

She giggles.

"He needs a name."

"Oh don't listen to Mister Grumpy-Pants. We're not going to let him rain on our parade are? Oh no we're not! OH no we're not!"

He's brought back to the here and now by the mere mention of the word NAME.

"South Dakota Smith!"

Indy slips his arm around Moon and blatantly ignores Mike's suggestion.

"He does need a name. I think I'm gonna have to get to know him and judge his personality first though."

"You got any ideas so far, from the time you've spent with him?"

Moon settles happily against him.

"I tend to name things after heavenly bodies," she says. "Like... Rigel... Polaris... Merope... or Dorado."

She eyes the grey-brown puppy.

"Rigel is nice. But I'm a moon-girl," Moon says with a giggle and looks up at Indy. "So my choices are... unusual."

"Mmmm. Yeah, maybe not so much a South Dakota. I mean, for one you're far warmer than South Dakota. What about...South Carolina? You could be South Carolina Smith? Nahh, that's a girl's name. OH I know! Chet! You could totally be a Chet!"

"Not bad names," Indy say to Moon. And then, with a long suffering sigh, he marches over to Mike and holds his hands out.

"He's not a Chet... or a sound effect... or a Random State Common Surname."

Sternly, "hand over the puppy."

Mike's smile falls.

"Does this mean that Smeeeesh is out of the question too?"

Dejected, Mike hands the puppy over.

"Smeeeesh? What sort of name is that?" Moon asks, making her way to the boys. "It sounds like the sound toes make with petroleum jelly between them. That's no name for a puppy."

She tickles the puppy's feet so he squirms in Indy's hands.

"And Chet sounds like what someone does when they sneeze."

Indy chuckles gently.

"Smeeesh is the sound someone makes when they crash through a window," he reveals, handling the puppy adeptly, even with the bonus squirming. "In comics."

"And Chet's is the name of Raph's favorite pizza shop." As well as every other Italian run shop in their New York.

"Both very bad names."

In theory, Chet is also the name of anyone male in New York that doesn't move fast enough.

"You're one to talk..."

His eyes narrow.

"...Junior."

Moon is quiet and thoughtful for a minute.

"Well," she finally says. "Since you named yourself after your dog, maybe you should name the wolf after you?"

See?

She's helpful!

Indy narrows an eye at Mike, but he's distracted by Moon before a comeback can be mustered. Calming his wriggling pup once more, he squinches his face at her.

"Another Indiana? Or Henry Jones the Third?"

"Junior Jr."

Mike offers helpfully. Well it's a very smug version of helpful anyways...

She nods at Mike.

"What he said."

Cue the cute grinning.

Cue the exaggerated unimpressed scowling.

"No."

He pulls the puppy to his chest protectively and wanders into the living room.

"Don't worry, lad. I won't let those two conspirators give you a crappy name. And I promise I won't invite Aunt Alanna's input either."

Comparing Mike's naming ability to that of Alanna? Oh...oh them's fightin' words right there.

Mike turns to Moon, his face all aglow with mischief.

"I really am going to teach that puppy the words to Henry the Eighth I am you know that right?"

Moon giggles. "He'll learn quickly.

She then looks at Indy.

"I like Rigel, but he isn't mine," she says with a grin. "He's yours. And, I think, Mike's in some weird way. Will Stampy like him?"

The tinyphant in question is still bunkered in her rubber plant haven. Her trunk is poking out through the leaves though, sniffing curiously at the new scent.

"She gets on great with mom and dad," Indy says offhandedly, after a suspicious glance is aimed at Mike, and then Moon. "They'll be fine."

He doesn't know what they're talking about, never having heard the rhyme. Nor can he really argue that about the custody issue, since pets are pretty much 'shared family charges' if Stampy is anything to go by.

"Rigel's okay," he then tells Moon. "I think we can do better though. Something a bit more macho, and... earthy."

It's amazing how quickly one can spring back at the sound of a beautiful woman giggling. It's also why Mike can just merely grin back at Indy as if his was the only clean soul in the bar.

"Rocky? Doug? Phil?"

Why yes, Mike is in fact working his way through his, What do you call a guy with no arms and no legs... joke pool, why do you ask?

Moon finds Mike infinitely amusing.

She shows this by laughing again, quietly, behind her hand.

"Phil? I don't think he's a Phil." Then she turns to Indy. "And more macho? You are such a guy!" Moon lightly bats Indy's forehead. "But I like you enough that I can forgive that."

Indy shakes his head despairingly at Mike's suggestions.

"Stop. Just... stop."

He stoops and places the puppy down on the carpet. There's a slight wince as his recent leg wound protests the strain, but he stays hunkered to observe the cub at close quarters.

"As for you," he asides to Moon, "watch it." He reaches up without taking his eyes off the wolf, and idly swats her butt. "Macho's my thing. You should be appreciatin' it, not forgivin' it."

The cub, for his part, makes a beeline for Stampy's hiding place, very curious about the wiggling thing protruding from the foliage. Before long, a wet wolf nose meets the tip of a miniature elephant trunk. And a suspenseful pause in sniffing and snuffling occurs...

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