psalm_onethirtyone | "In Your Dreams When the Smile Now Comes..."

Notes:

--tried a new type of cupcake to-day, with zero success -- I think I gauged the size wrong (upgraded them from a mini to a full-size, and they were too dense). Oh, well.
--however, amused by the way I can discover a need for any liqueur and my parents will have it. Hello, eighty-year-old bottle of kirsch hiding under the counter.
--the eggs keep having little embryo chickens in them, despite the fact that we have no rooster. If this is a message from God, I wish He'd make it less obscure/gross.
--got my July schedule in the post to-day, it is awful. I'm working every weekend this month plus the Fourth of July. Blehhh. I know I was whining last month about not getting enough shifts, but now I am taking it back, for the love of little kittens, eesh.
--I will have to tell them I can't do the eleventh, because for some ungodly reason I am going to the ~spa~, thank you Mama's best friend. I don't know what exactly they do to you at the spa, but apparently it takes all day, so. I will have to see if I can get the invisible Mandi (I have never met her, I just know she works the client on the days I'm not there) to cover for me.

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--the eggs keep having little embryo chickens in them, despite the fact that we have no rooster. If this is a message from God, I wish He'd make it less obscure/gross.

HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE. D:

Also, I envy your upcoming trip to the spa, assuming it will include a massage. I hope it does.

I DON'T EVEN KNOW. I was trying to figure out whether they were unfertilised ova or something? But they're all bloody and reasonably sized, which honestly suggests more than that.

It seems kind of totally impossible that the turkey tom would be breeding the hens, so... I am lost. Maybe this is actually a message from Satan to let us know that he is the one creating mysterious holes in the fence to they can get out and eat Maria's hops.

Maaaassage. So excite.

Maybe this is actually a message from Satan to let us know that he is the one creating mysterious holes in the fence to they can get out and eat Maria's hops.

SATAN IS HAVING RELATIONS WITH YOUR HENS. D:

Maaaassage. So excite.

I hope that's included in the package! Massages are lovely. Let us know how it goes! <333

Satan sexing up my chickens is high on my DNW list, I have to say.

:D :D Will do!

The spaaaaaaaaa~~~ :D

Yeah, that's all I got.

She took my shift! I get to go!

--the eggs keep having little embryo chickens in them, despite the fact that we have no rooster. If this is a message from God, I wish He'd make it less obscure/gross.

DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD: Your house could be built over a doorway to hell?

I hope the spa thing goes well? A whole day seems kind of excessive, though.

But our house is guarded by the spirit of Snapper, who died in our corncrib! D:

I do wonder what the hell you do at a spa for a whole day.

Despite everything, Horatio smiled. Benedicte made everyone smile. It was the reason Hamlet kept going to visit her--well, one of the reasons. She'd lost her parents, and in a way nearly as gruesome as he had, and her life in the group home was just another reminder that he could solve the murder but not undo the crimes.

Besides, he made her smile, and six-year-olds deserved to smile as often as possible.

"Good," Horatio said, nice and sturdy in that way he had, and he touched Hamlet's hair.

Hamlet breathed out slowly. "The couple turned her down."

Her social worker had been courting a young couple who'd only recently become interested in foster care. Everyone knew why they were the best choice--they were looking to adopt, and what adoptive family could refuse a beautiful, flaxen-haired little girl?

That one, apparently. Luckily, Ben wasn't old enough to release that she'd been rejected, or else it would set her back even further. But it broke his heart all the same.

"Oh." Horatio sighed and let his hand fall to Hamlet's knee. "Hey, I'm sorry. Did they say why?

"I can guess. Too damaged. I mean, she only saw her parents murdered, right, so god forbid she be a little upset. Meredith at the home says it's amazing she's doing as well as she is." Thinking about it, he felt crushed, just crushed, and maybe it was the pressure in his chest and the twist deep in his stomach that made him say, "She asked if we wanted to be foster parents."

In shock, Horatio asked, "Ben?"

"Meredith."

A pause. Then, quietly, "What did you say?"

"I wish I put a bullet in that SOB when I had the chance."

Horatio laughed, obviously startled, and it was rich, fond despite himself. "That's what you said?"

"No," Hamlet answered, and then he smiled, too, because he imagined if he had--no one there would have argued, he thought, not once they looked at Benedicte sitting in silence, coloring within the lines. His smile faded away; he felt it go. "I said I had a boyfriend I wasn't allowed to marry, and I said I had a psychiatric incident a year ago and a gun in a lockbox in my closet. And that I wouldn't be good for her, and didn't know if I could be. I wouldn't have a chance in hell of being cleared, is what I said."

Horatio was silent for a moment, two moments, looking at his fingers brushing against Hamlet's thigh. He moved them from side to side, softly. Hamlet wondered what he was thinking, and he thought about how unfair it was that he couldn't read Horatio as well as Horatio could read him. He'd never been able to and probably never would.

Hamlet opened his mouth to speak, but Horatio beat him to it: "But you didn't say you didn't want to."

For several minutes, there was silence. He'd been thinking the same thing, once he got over the shock. Once he'd told Meredith he would think about it, once he'd gone to say goodbye to Ben, once he'd kissed her forehead and Strawberry's too.

"Come on," Horatio said, and he stood, using the desk to brace himself. "I'll make dinner."

"You?" All at once, Hamlet forced himself back from wherever his mind had been, and he fixed Horatio with one of his very charming smiles, the one reserved for Horatio de Wittenberg and little old ladies who refused to part with important evidence. "I think I'll stay here."

Horatio mimed kicking him, his foot never making contact. "Shut up. I can call for Chinese as well as you can."

"Oh, I don't know. They never give you extra fortune cookies."

Hamlet laughed as Horatio turned and headed for the kitchen without comment. It was true, after all.

Before following, he took one last look around the room.

♥ ♥ ♥

"In Your Dreams When the Smile Now Comes..."

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fic-bomb part 2

Re: fic-bomb part 2