"Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?" Christopher Marshall was saying to his daughter over the phone, sounding not at all as though he was entirely approving of Vicki's plans. "It's a big commitment, Tiger."
Laughing, Vicki thumped down onto her bed, laying back to look up at the exposed beams of her little house's roof. "Dad, I wouldn't even be having this conversation with you if I wasn't sure," she tried to reassure her father. "I know you haven't met him, but seriously ....do you have so little faith in me that you don't even trust my big important decisions anymore?"
"Your last big important decision took you to another country," her father pointed out in a rueful tone of voice. "Without breaking things off with David, as I recall."
"Oh, don't start that again." Vicki groaned, rubbing her forehead as she grimaced. "You hated David, you were over the moon when I dumped him."
"I would have preferred you to do that face to face, young lady," Christopher informed her in what she had private catagorised as tone Number 7; Disapproving, But Deeply Amused. "And save me the trouble of having to field all those questions whenever he called here."
"We're not talking about David," the redhead reminded her father with a snort of laughter. "You're supposed to be giving me advice, here."
"About the -"
"Yes, about what I called you to talk about in the first place, Dad."
Chris Marshall chuckled, all previous sins already forgiven and forgotten as he got down to business. "We've covered whether you're sure or not," he mused. "Alright, then. Can you afford it' You'll have to feed him and exercise him, and I know that place operates like America with its extortionate medical bills ..."
Rolling her eyes, Vicki grinned, pleased she'd called her father but at the same time slightly perturbed by his no-nonsense approach to her search for reassurance. "Okay, for a start, it's time you stopped worrying about my finances," she told him with stern amusement. "Which, in point of fact, really have nothing to do with this. Plus, you know, he's a very good breed; nothing genetic at all to worry about, just the standard stuff."
"And where are you going to keep him?"
"Well, he can't stay here, obviously," Vicki chuckled, blowing her hair back out of her eyes again. "Not yet. Actually, the guys at Little Blessings said they'd take him until I sort out all the details. It'll do him good to spend some time with my golden oldies."
"That is only going to be a couple of weeks, though, Tiger," her father said thoughtfully. "Are you sure you can keep all this under wraps until the big day?"
"To be honest?" Vicki sighed. "No, I don't. But, you know, so long as it manages to stay hushed up after Crowes comes out, I don't think it'll be a problem. It's not like he's going to freak out if things happen a little early, is it?"
"Darling, you know I love you," and here was where Vicki crammed her knuckles into her mouth to keep her father from hearing her world-weary groan, "but you're very young to be tying yourself down to one place like this. You have a brilliant career ahead of you."
"And what good is a brilliant career if I'm going to be on my own for the rest of it?" she asked pointedly. "That's what all this is about. I'm making a commitment here; I was rather hoping you'd be supporting me."
"I'm reserving judgement until I meet him," was her father's calm response, coupled with a grin she could hear through his tone. "You do realise I'm sitting here filling in all the paperwork as we speak, yes?"
"Yes!" Punching the air, Vicki giggled like a small child who just got a pony. "I love you, Daddy."
"Of course you do, you're the best possible result from a bad batch of sperm, darling."
To most daughters, this might have seemed gross - but it was Chris who had instilled in Vicki that notoriously bawdy sense of humor. She just laughed merrily in answer.
"And the collars and everything, you want those sent over to you as well?" her father was asking, and she heartily agreed, nodding even though he couldn't see the motion at all. "Gift-wrapped, or brown paper?"
"Brown paper," she decided on a whim. She hated wrapping things, so this was going to be interesting. "You're going to say it, aren't you ....you're just saving it up until you think it'll have the most impact ..."
"Say what, Tiger?" Butter would not have melted in Chris Marshall's mouth judging by that tone of voice - Number 13; I'm Not Up To Something, Honest.
"Daaaad ..." She rolled onto her stomach, chuckling once more. "I can hear you not saying it. Get it out of your system."
"Oh, well, if you insist." There was a pause, purely for dramatic effect, and her father cleared his throat. "This is for life, Victoria, not just for Christmas."
"Winterfest."
"Whatever."
Laughing, Vicki thumped down onto her bed, laying back to look up at the exposed beams of her little house's roof. "Dad, I wouldn't even be having this conversation with you if I wasn't sure," she tried to reassure her father. "I know you haven't met him, but seriously ....do you have so little faith in me that you don't even trust my big important decisions anymore?"
"Your last big important decision took you to another country," her father pointed out in a rueful tone of voice. "Without breaking things off with David, as I recall."
"Oh, don't start that again." Vicki groaned, rubbing her forehead as she grimaced. "You hated David, you were over the moon when I dumped him."
"I would have preferred you to do that face to face, young lady," Christopher informed her in what she had private catagorised as tone Number 7; Disapproving, But Deeply Amused. "And save me the trouble of having to field all those questions whenever he called here."
"We're not talking about David," the redhead reminded her father with a snort of laughter. "You're supposed to be giving me advice, here."
"About the -"
"Yes, about what I called you to talk about in the first place, Dad."
Chris Marshall chuckled, all previous sins already forgiven and forgotten as he got down to business. "We've covered whether you're sure or not," he mused. "Alright, then. Can you afford it' You'll have to feed him and exercise him, and I know that place operates like America with its extortionate medical bills ..."
Rolling her eyes, Vicki grinned, pleased she'd called her father but at the same time slightly perturbed by his no-nonsense approach to her search for reassurance. "Okay, for a start, it's time you stopped worrying about my finances," she told him with stern amusement. "Which, in point of fact, really have nothing to do with this. Plus, you know, he's a very good breed; nothing genetic at all to worry about, just the standard stuff."
"And where are you going to keep him?"
"Well, he can't stay here, obviously," Vicki chuckled, blowing her hair back out of her eyes again. "Not yet. Actually, the guys at Little Blessings said they'd take him until I sort out all the details. It'll do him good to spend some time with my golden oldies."
"That is only going to be a couple of weeks, though, Tiger," her father said thoughtfully. "Are you sure you can keep all this under wraps until the big day?"
"To be honest?" Vicki sighed. "No, I don't. But, you know, so long as it manages to stay hushed up after Crowes comes out, I don't think it'll be a problem. It's not like he's going to freak out if things happen a little early, is it?"
"Darling, you know I love you," and here was where Vicki crammed her knuckles into her mouth to keep her father from hearing her world-weary groan, "but you're very young to be tying yourself down to one place like this. You have a brilliant career ahead of you."
"And what good is a brilliant career if I'm going to be on my own for the rest of it?" she asked pointedly. "That's what all this is about. I'm making a commitment here; I was rather hoping you'd be supporting me."
"I'm reserving judgement until I meet him," was her father's calm response, coupled with a grin she could hear through his tone. "You do realise I'm sitting here filling in all the paperwork as we speak, yes?"
"Yes!" Punching the air, Vicki giggled like a small child who just got a pony. "I love you, Daddy."
"Of course you do, you're the best possible result from a bad batch of sperm, darling."
To most daughters, this might have seemed gross - but it was Chris who had instilled in Vicki that notoriously bawdy sense of humor. She just laughed merrily in answer.
"And the collars and everything, you want those sent over to you as well?" her father was asking, and she heartily agreed, nodding even though he couldn't see the motion at all. "Gift-wrapped, or brown paper?"
"Brown paper," she decided on a whim. She hated wrapping things, so this was going to be interesting. "You're going to say it, aren't you ....you're just saving it up until you think it'll have the most impact ..."
"Say what, Tiger?" Butter would not have melted in Chris Marshall's mouth judging by that tone of voice - Number 13; I'm Not Up To Something, Honest.
"Daaaad ..." She rolled onto her stomach, chuckling once more. "I can hear you not saying it. Get it out of your system."
"Oh, well, if you insist." There was a pause, purely for dramatic effect, and her father cleared his throat. "This is for life, Victoria, not just for Christmas."
"Winterfest."
"Whatever."