POI fic: Distraction
TITLE: POI fic - Distraction
AUTHOR: whomii2
RATING: G
SUMMARY: Little dog series #9. Kipling wants to play
John was in the midst of cleaning his gun when he felt something bump gently against his foot.
Looking down he saw a worn and ragged tennis ball, and glancing over he saw Finch’s little dog staring at him with eager anticipation.
But John was in no mood for play as he had just walked Kipling a little while ago. So he resumed working on his weapon while steadfastly ignoring the impatient little barks being directed his way.
He managed to resist for several minutes until the little dog began to whine inconsolably, as if his heart was breaking. That finally drew John’s attention back, and the little dog’s tail began to wag furiously as it sensed victory. With a sigh John put his weapon aside and reached down for the ball, thinking that the mutt was as sneakily manipulative (and hard to resist) as his master.
Finch idly checked the surveillance video and was pleased to see John frolicking with Kipling. He understood the importance of good maintenance but that was the third time Reese had fiddled with his gun--it was becoming something of a fetish. John really needed to develop some other ways to occupy himself during their downtime (preferably an activity that didn’t involve bugging Finch). Focusing on his weapons always led John’s thoughts down dark paths when he didn’t have anything else to dwell on.
As John knelt on the floor to gently wrestle with the dog for the soggy ball, Finch made a mental note to pull another picture from the video feed for his growing collection.
AUTHOR: whomii2
RATING: G
SUMMARY: Little dog series #9. Kipling wants to play
John was in the midst of cleaning his gun when he felt something bump gently against his foot.
Looking down he saw a worn and ragged tennis ball, and glancing over he saw Finch’s little dog staring at him with eager anticipation.
But John was in no mood for play as he had just walked Kipling a little while ago. So he resumed working on his weapon while steadfastly ignoring the impatient little barks being directed his way.
He managed to resist for several minutes until the little dog began to whine inconsolably, as if his heart was breaking. That finally drew John’s attention back, and the little dog’s tail began to wag furiously as it sensed victory. With a sigh John put his weapon aside and reached down for the ball, thinking that the mutt was as sneakily manipulative (and hard to resist) as his master.
Finch idly checked the surveillance video and was pleased to see John frolicking with Kipling. He understood the importance of good maintenance but that was the third time Reese had fiddled with his gun--it was becoming something of a fetish. John really needed to develop some other ways to occupy himself during their downtime (preferably an activity that didn’t involve bugging Finch). Focusing on his weapons always led John’s thoughts down dark paths when he didn’t have anything else to dwell on.
As John knelt on the floor to gently wrestle with the dog for the soggy ball, Finch made a mental note to pull another picture from the video feed for his growing collection.