Puppetry in Motion (![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
drabblemania challenge: puppets)
"Jacky?"
Jack looked up from his sandwich and book to find Anneka smiling flirtatiously at him. "Yeah, what?"
"Can you get me another Perrier?"
"Sure." Jack got to his feet and started rummaging through the cooler, digging through the ice and remembering the snowball fights of his younger days for some reason. On his way back, something occured to him.
Anneka had been closer to the cooler in the first place.
"Why didn't you just get your own?" he asked mildly, handing it to her.
"Because you're better at it." she shrugged, that same flirty smile still on her face. She reached out and touched his arm, very gently, like a cat playing with a mouse. "Can you open this, darling, I don't want to break a nail."
Sighing, Jack flicked the cap off. "Why am I doing this? I have my own girlfriend. You're just lazy."
"Sloth is my second favorite deadly sin." Anneka took a long drink and lay back on the blanket, her long blonde braid curled up beside her like a tail. "All boys are puppets. Right, Tish?"
"'Course." Trish grinned, taking a drink from the bottle of Finian's Irish Red in her hand as she watched the kids playing on the climber across the park. "At least, they are in the hands of a talented puppetmistress. It's the promise of sex. It's a biological drive; you know - if I provide for you, I'll get some nookie."
"We are not." Jack somehow felt it was his duty to speak up for the men of the world - even if he was terribly outnumbered. "I don't have to do things for you. I choose to. I'm just a nice guy like that. Or a moron, whichever you like."
"Me, sure." Anneka replied sleepily, her eyes covered by round blue sunglasses. "But Tishy can still play you like a piano. Can't you, Tish darling? Even after all these years?"
"Of course." Trish replied modestly - assuming such a term could be applied to this conversation.
"You can not." Jack challenged.
"I can, and I'll prove it." She shifted into the lotus position and fluffed her auburn hair for a moment, staring at Jack with a wide-eyed smile. "Jacky ... can you get me the potato crisps?"
"That is not going to work." Jack replied. "Get them yourself."
She said nothing, just continued to smile sweetly; a green-eyed Buddha in yoga pants and a white spaghetti-strap top with laces up the sides.
Despite everything - despite Allanna, despite the five years that had gone by since they'd been lovers - Jack watched like a dumbfounded spectator as the last shreds of his will blew away in the wind like leaves.
"All right! I surrender." he tossed the bag at her and buried his face in his hands, sighing as they both broke into sardonic feminine giggles.
"Still got it." Trish grinned, taking a long drink.
"You are the queen." Anneka snickered. "See? All boys are puppets." She turned to face her tiny doppelganger, who had just appeared on her left. "Yes, liefje?"
"Mommy?" Fabian asked in a piping, clear voice. "Can I have some more cookies?"
"All we've got left are oatmeal raisin, love, you don't like those."
"But Anthony does. Anthony wanted me to get him some."
Anneka shrugged, handing Fabian several cookies. The boy put them in the pocket of his overalls and trotted happily toward the climber.
"Well, there's a hole in your logic, right there." Jack pointed out.
"What d'you mean?"
"If all boys are puppets, then how come Audra isn't manipulating the two of them?" he countered. "See? She's over there playing in the sand, and the boys are playing kickball. She had nothing to do with that cookie excursion."
This made the two of them pause.
"He makes a good point." Trish conceded, taking another drink of her beer.
"He does." Anneka pouted thoughtfully, leaning forward on her elbows. "Hmm. Maybe Fabie's sweet on Anthony."
"Isn't he a little young to be making those kinds of determinations? He's barely four."
"Would you be saying that if Anthony were a girl?"
Jack had to admit he would not.
"See, there you go." Anneka lay back down on the blanket, staring up into the tree above them. "Really when it comes down to it, we're all puppets. We're all manipulated by our own prejudices and biases and dreams and hopes."
"That sounds suspiciously like you're admitting there's a God." Jack chuckled. "I thought you were the card carrying athiest."
"I am. There is no such thing as God."
"So who's the puppetmaster then, if there is no God?"
"Well, if there is a God, he's an evil bastard without much sense that gets off on other peoples' suffering, that's for sure." She stared up into the trees for a long moment, searching for an answer; not finding it, she slid her shoes back on her feet and loped casually across the green lawn to push her child on the swings.
Jack and Trish exchanged confused glances for a moment, and then followed behind her obediently.
Jack looked up from his sandwich and book to find Anneka smiling flirtatiously at him. "Yeah, what?"
"Can you get me another Perrier?"
"Sure." Jack got to his feet and started rummaging through the cooler, digging through the ice and remembering the snowball fights of his younger days for some reason. On his way back, something occured to him.
Anneka had been closer to the cooler in the first place.
"Why didn't you just get your own?" he asked mildly, handing it to her.
"Because you're better at it." she shrugged, that same flirty smile still on her face. She reached out and touched his arm, very gently, like a cat playing with a mouse. "Can you open this, darling, I don't want to break a nail."
Sighing, Jack flicked the cap off. "Why am I doing this? I have my own girlfriend. You're just lazy."
"Sloth is my second favorite deadly sin." Anneka took a long drink and lay back on the blanket, her long blonde braid curled up beside her like a tail. "All boys are puppets. Right, Tish?"
"'Course." Trish grinned, taking a drink from the bottle of Finian's Irish Red in her hand as she watched the kids playing on the climber across the park. "At least, they are in the hands of a talented puppetmistress. It's the promise of sex. It's a biological drive; you know - if I provide for you, I'll get some nookie."
"We are not." Jack somehow felt it was his duty to speak up for the men of the world - even if he was terribly outnumbered. "I don't have to do things for you. I choose to. I'm just a nice guy like that. Or a moron, whichever you like."
"Me, sure." Anneka replied sleepily, her eyes covered by round blue sunglasses. "But Tishy can still play you like a piano. Can't you, Tish darling? Even after all these years?"
"Of course." Trish replied modestly - assuming such a term could be applied to this conversation.
"You can not." Jack challenged.
"I can, and I'll prove it." She shifted into the lotus position and fluffed her auburn hair for a moment, staring at Jack with a wide-eyed smile. "Jacky ... can you get me the potato crisps?"
"That is not going to work." Jack replied. "Get them yourself."
She said nothing, just continued to smile sweetly; a green-eyed Buddha in yoga pants and a white spaghetti-strap top with laces up the sides.
Despite everything - despite Allanna, despite the five years that had gone by since they'd been lovers - Jack watched like a dumbfounded spectator as the last shreds of his will blew away in the wind like leaves.
"All right! I surrender." he tossed the bag at her and buried his face in his hands, sighing as they both broke into sardonic feminine giggles.
"Still got it." Trish grinned, taking a long drink.
"You are the queen." Anneka snickered. "See? All boys are puppets." She turned to face her tiny doppelganger, who had just appeared on her left. "Yes, liefje?"
"Mommy?" Fabian asked in a piping, clear voice. "Can I have some more cookies?"
"All we've got left are oatmeal raisin, love, you don't like those."
"But Anthony does. Anthony wanted me to get him some."
Anneka shrugged, handing Fabian several cookies. The boy put them in the pocket of his overalls and trotted happily toward the climber.
"Well, there's a hole in your logic, right there." Jack pointed out.
"What d'you mean?"
"If all boys are puppets, then how come Audra isn't manipulating the two of them?" he countered. "See? She's over there playing in the sand, and the boys are playing kickball. She had nothing to do with that cookie excursion."
This made the two of them pause.
"He makes a good point." Trish conceded, taking another drink of her beer.
"He does." Anneka pouted thoughtfully, leaning forward on her elbows. "Hmm. Maybe Fabie's sweet on Anthony."
"Isn't he a little young to be making those kinds of determinations? He's barely four."
"Would you be saying that if Anthony were a girl?"
Jack had to admit he would not.
"See, there you go." Anneka lay back down on the blanket, staring up into the tree above them. "Really when it comes down to it, we're all puppets. We're all manipulated by our own prejudices and biases and dreams and hopes."
"That sounds suspiciously like you're admitting there's a God." Jack chuckled. "I thought you were the card carrying athiest."
"I am. There is no such thing as God."
"So who's the puppetmaster then, if there is no God?"
"Well, if there is a God, he's an evil bastard without much sense that gets off on other peoples' suffering, that's for sure." She stared up into the trees for a long moment, searching for an answer; not finding it, she slid her shoes back on her feet and loped casually across the green lawn to push her child on the swings.
Jack and Trish exchanged confused glances for a moment, and then followed behind her obediently.
no subject
Aw, Fabian is so cute! Even us evil bastards have to love him. (That doesn't prevent us from bestowing suffering, though!)
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Fabie's adorable. They all are. I should do more kid-interaction at some point with the three of them. Jack and Stephen babysitting is a hoot.
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Hey, we're not always evil bastards. We give more gifts than we take away. That's why people's lives get progressively better as they get older, usually. Too bad our proteges rarely notice. God can be a thankless job.
no subject
Or does it? I suppose it does if you're lucky.
It's fun, anyway.