Our Jerk
Title: Our Jerk
Author: dorksidefiker
Fandom: That Damn Mpreg
Table/Prompt: Table 4/14. Loyal
Character/Pairing: Bruce Jameson, Becca Altman-Kaplan
Rating: PG
Word Count: 306
Summary: “That egg sucker is gonna get you over my dead body.”
Authors Notes/Disclaimer: Yet another TDM story. The characters are mine, all mine.
Bruce Jameson put his dirty, cracked glasses on for a moment, then took them back off. The condition they were in, he could see better without them. He could just make out the blurred form of Rebecca Altman-Kaplan, crouched in the shadows at the mouth of the cave. If he could have, he’d have changed into his wolfman form, where sight was supplanted by smell and hearing, but he was cut off from the power that had boiled within him his whole life. Without it, he felt small and vulnerable.
Somehow, despite also being cut off from her own powers and being barely above five feet tall, Becca looked neither small nor vulnerable. In fact, when she’d rescued Bruce from the thing that was trying to take his powers from him permanently, she’d looked… irritated and scornful.
She usually looked irritated and scornful, but usually she had the ability to juggle busses to back her up.
“Did you mean what you said back there?” Bruce asked. Becca didn’t move, but he could feel her eyes turning to him.
“About you being a narcissistic asshole with delusions of adequacy?” she asked scathingly.
“I meant the bit after that, actually,” he said. “About me being your asshole.”
“I was speaking on behalf of the team,” Becca said, her tone more gentle this time. “But yeah, you’re our asshole, and that egg sucker is gonna have to get to you over my dead body.”
Bruce sniffed, then blew his nose on his shirt sleeve. “Alright, then.”
Author: dorksidefiker
Fandom: That Damn Mpreg
Table/Prompt: Table 4/14. Loyal
Character/Pairing: Bruce Jameson, Becca Altman-Kaplan
Rating: PG
Word Count: 306
Summary: “That egg sucker is gonna get you over my dead body.”
Authors Notes/Disclaimer: Yet another TDM story. The characters are mine, all mine.
Bruce Jameson put his dirty, cracked glasses on for a moment, then took them back off. The condition they were in, he could see better without them. He could just make out the blurred form of Rebecca Altman-Kaplan, crouched in the shadows at the mouth of the cave. If he could have, he’d have changed into his wolfman form, where sight was supplanted by smell and hearing, but he was cut off from the power that had boiled within him his whole life. Without it, he felt small and vulnerable.
Somehow, despite also being cut off from her own powers and being barely above five feet tall, Becca looked neither small nor vulnerable. In fact, when she’d rescued Bruce from the thing that was trying to take his powers from him permanently, she’d looked… irritated and scornful.
She usually looked irritated and scornful, but usually she had the ability to juggle busses to back her up.
“Did you mean what you said back there?” Bruce asked. Becca didn’t move, but he could feel her eyes turning to him.
“About you being a narcissistic asshole with delusions of adequacy?” she asked scathingly.
“I meant the bit after that, actually,” he said. “About me being your asshole.”
“I was speaking on behalf of the team,” Becca said, her tone more gentle this time. “But yeah, you’re our asshole, and that egg sucker is gonna have to get to you over my dead body.”
Bruce sniffed, then blew his nose on his shirt sleeve. “Alright, then.”