Series: Four Seasons
Title: Post-ES & Pre-AC Drabble – MiniJOLNIR
Pairing: Grif x Simmons
Warnings: Mild Language
Summary: … Grif & Simmons. A Cat. and Donut.
(I can’t say much more without giving too much away.)
Special thanks go to miss_poppet, who has offered up her services and does a wonderful job as the Beta of the series!
Author’s Notes: This came about during the writing of the Cats Drabble that precedes it. I’d originaly brainstormed the cat as a silly little enemy for Grif, that no one would ever support him in disliking. I showed the Drabble to a certain fundamentalist Christian Sounding board who, for some reason, tolerates my throwing slash-related stories at him on the condition that I censor things a bit. The Cats Drabble was perfect for it, a fun way for me to share the universe in a situation where I didn’t have to be the least bit careful about what parts of the story I sent his way. MiniJOLNIR sprang from his mind unbidden, and the rest is history. Crueler became an immediate and permanent member of the cast (rather than an experimental potential bit part) for nothing less than my own amusement.
Grif pushed through the door and into the kitchen. He raided the coffee pot, ignoring Donut as he collapsed into a chair. Donut was talking, but Grif focused on his coffee with every bit of his being rather than deal with someone always overly cheerful for this hour of the day. Grif only lifted his eyes from the cup when Simmons entered. He frowned in irritation when Simmons ignored him completely in favor of staring at Donut.
“What have you done, Donut?” Simmons moved over to the section of counter Donut’s body blocked from Grif’s view. “I think there are laws against this sort of thing.”
Grif’s curiosity vanished the tiredness he’d been feeling so intensely. He had to pause, though, and wait for the drive to hunt out the answer to this new and nagging question. “But he’s a part of the Army now! It’s only right that we give him armor. I even did it right and gave him Rookie red.” Donut’s whining only intensified Grif’s curiosity.
“Okay,” Grif rose to his feet, shoving in between Simmons and Donut. “What have you done?” There, standing on the counter was a cat. Or, Grif thought it was probably a cat based on the low-pitched sub-sonic growling and general shape. The Animal was wearing a miniature suit of MJOLNIR Armor that was shockingly accurate from the tip of the cat’s helmeted nose to the end of it’s lashing armored tail.
“Donut,” Simmons rubbed his eyes. “Take that ridiculous armor off the poor animal.”
“But…” Donut’s blue eyes grew wide, and he looked just a heartbeat from crying. “What if the Blues attack? Crueler needs to wear his MiniJOLNIR armor so that they can’t shoot him!”