Fanfic: Creature Of Habit (1/1)

[smokingmirror]

Title: Creature Of Habit
Author: Avarice
Rating: PG
Pairing: -
Spoilers: -
Summary: It is never a good idea to insult one of the Fairheart snake boys.
Word Count: 1413
Date First Posted: 2005?
Date Revised - 21-05-2011
Beta: -
Awards: -
Notes: Again, one of those 'so obscure no-one will read but it's one of my favourites'. Jack is the son of Jack Silver and Marlane (before she AU-eloped with Aaron), and he's fully-human. Jeb (Jebediah), Zeke (Ezekiel Malachai) and Ezra are three of Aaron and Marlane's snake-offspring. Born as snakes, but able to shed and take on a hybridised human form. They are legitimately half-human, and so can do this without having to steal and sew a human skin like their father. The reason they look so similar to Jack and each other is because Marlane is the only human DNA they possess (the rest being rattlesnakey), so her features are very dominant. Jack has Silver DNA, and as such it's a little easier to tell him apart from his half-brothers. Since Aaron doesn't really have a surname, they take Marlane's maiden name, including Jack.
If you want to get really technical? Maru, Arath's ex-girlfriend from FH become's Jeb's gf. And they are very happy together :)
Feedback: always welcome, as is constructive criticism.

 

Earl didn't like change. He was very much a creature of routine and habit. He had the same thing for breakfast every morning (steak, two sausages, hash brown and two cups of black coffee). He took the same bus to work each day (The number nine). He brushed his teeth for the exact same amount of time (twenty seconds, if that. Nothing was going to get rid of those coffee stains now), and he sat in the same seat of the same bar each weeknight and had three beers.

He despised any tiny deviation from his erudite schedule. Changes would send his mood spiraling and generally made him less than pleasant, which was a shame as his regular personality wasn't that great to begin with.

Which was why someone sitting in his seat at his bar made a rotten day at work and a traffic jam infinitely worse.

Earl didn't like any other seat, and he never left well enough alone. He walked up to the guy in the Stetson and cleared his throat loudly right over his shoulder.

"You're in my regular seat."

On closer inspection, the guy looked really young. He sat on his own in a gingham shirt, hat shadowing his face and nursed a beer.

He also didn't look up when being addressed. And Earl didn't like being ignored.

"Hey," he said louder, and poked the kid in the shoulder with two fingers, "are ya deaf or just stupid?"

That got his attention. His whole body stayed very still, only the neck moved and turned up to look at Earl.

His eyes were funny, Earl noticed. He couldn't see them all that well under the hat, but they were weird. "You're in my seat," Earl talked slowly, like the kid was retarded.

Nothing.

"For fuck's sake, do- you- speak- English?" The only thing Earl hated more than out-of-towners was foreign out-of-towners.

"Yep," he said, not breaking eye contact with Earl. In fact, not even blinking at Earl.

"Great, we have a dialogue," Earl sneered, cocking his head to the side. "What's your name, wiseguy?"

"Ezra Fairheart," the kid answered in a faint accent, touching his hand to the brim of his hat. The polite gesture only succeeded in making Earl crankier.

"Well, Ezra Fairheart, fact is, you're still sitting in my seat."

"I'm to meet my brothers here. Besides, there's plenty of seats," Ezra commented in a regular tone, giving no indication he was at all intimidated by Earl's impressive girth.

"I- don't- care," Earl got closer, resting one beefy hand on the back of Ezra's stool, the other on the bar. It brought his face very close to the kid's. "I've been sitting on this seat for close to ten years, I ain't about to start on a new one."

And still Ezra didn't move away, didn't blink.

"There a problem here, Earl?" Stanley the bar tender wandered over, casting a shrewd eye over the situation.

Earl gave Stan a withering gaze. "Pretty obvious don't you think?"

Stan's hand stilled on the glass he was cleaning. "Let me talk to the kid for a second." Earl folded thick arms across his chest. "Alone." Stanley added when Earl didn't move.

Earl grudgingly stepped back a few paces, watching as Stanley spoke in a low voice to the weirdy. Stan stopped, and it looked like the idiot wasn't going to move.

That was, until he stood up in one fluid motion, pushing a bill across the counter to Stanley. The hat still cast a shadow over his freaky eyes, and Ezra headed for the door.

Earl was pleased with his victory. On a better day he might've clapped Ezra on the back in a friendly way, or paid for his beer. But this was not a better day, and Earl couldn't help just having that one last dig. As Ezra passed him, Earl dropped his shoulder so the kid deliberately ran into him.

There was a moment where Earl thought he was going to get the fight he'd been spoiling for -- Ezra froze, and Earl was ready. The kid was skinny and almost a whole foot shorter than him.

But nothing. Well, not nothing, just a sound. Like someone shaking a box of pebbles and sand. Earl looked around, but with the noise in the bar he couldn't tell where it came from. It was... terrible. It made his toes curl in his boots.

It stopped, and Ezra was already near the door.

Earl settled his weight into the stool with satisfaction. Stanley brought him a beer. "Fucking out-of-towners," he spat, and Stanley just shook his head.

*****

Earl didn't like change. He was very much a creature of routine and habit. The next night after another miserable day at work he was pleased to walk into his bar and find his seat empty. It felt like a little victory against God.

Earl drank his customary three beers and with a nod to Stanley, left the bar to walk home the same way at the same time he did every evening.

Halfway there, someone stepped out in front of Earl. It was dark, but he could make out the outline of a Stetson in the dim lamplight.

"Oh fer crying out loud..." he muttered. Earl squinted at the face to be sure, and it was the runt from last night. "Don't tell me you grew a pair overnight?"

Something flickered in the corner of his mouth, and suddenly he wasn't alone anymore. Three more figures melted out of the shadows to join him.

Earl took a tiny step back. They all looked so similar, he couldn't be sure which was the one that sat in his seat last night. One looked a little different, though. The tallest one, while still looking related, was different enough to tell apart from the others.

It was the tallest one who spoke to him. "You Earl?"

Earl drew himself up to his full height. "Yeah."

The tall one didn't look funny, Earl noticed dimly, and blinked like a regular person. The other three stared at him with lidless eyes. It made a cold shiver go up his spine.

"Name's Jack Fairheart. Heard you gave our brother here a hard time last night."

Jack inclined his head to the kid on the end, the shortest one of the group by a shaving. Earl wondered what tact to take. They were all young and slim-built, but fit. Earl was confident he'd handle his own against one or two, definitely. Four would be difficult.

"Shit happens. The kid sat in my spot, I got him to move. That's it."

"He smells afraid," the one with the cigarette said, teeth catching the light. Earl glared him.

"Seems you took it a bit further than that," Jack spoke again.

"You shoved him," another one of the clones mentioned, taking a small step forward. Jack put a hand on the eager beaver's shoulder, and he stopped.

"I think you should apologise, Earl," Jack said in a matter of fact tone.

Earl looked incredulous. "What?"

"It'd be a very good idea."

"For you," the one with the cigarette said.

"Zeke," Jack said in a warning voice. Zeke smiled at Earl in a way that looked neither friendly nor comforting.

Earl sighed. "Whatever. I'm sorry. I had a crappy day at work and wanted my fucking seat."

"Not much of an apology, but I guess it'll have to do. Do you accept it?" Jack directed his question to Ezra standing on the end.

Ezra hadn't broken eye contact with Earl the entire time. Earl looked back at him defiantly.

Then, from that darkness, the sound came again. Raspy rattling, like pebbles in a box. It made Earl's toes curl instantly.

That was bad enough, but then other noises joined in. The same kind but different pitches, more of them. Earl's gut turned to ice.

Jack clucked his tongue and took a step forward, which the other three mirrored. "He doesn't think much of your apology."

Earl put his hands up, shuffling backwards. "Hey fellas, let's not do this."

"Bit late for that now."

As they got closer, he could see their eyes. They were dirty yellow in the light, pupils large but not round. The rattling got louder, it thrummed in Earl's ears, hurting them terribly. Cold dread filtered through Earl's blood as they closed in.

And right then, Earl's crappy day and routine life got a lot worse.

 

~finis