Cleaning House

By: Heidi



Here's my response to Cin's challenge fic, making one use a turkey, a turkey baster, a paper bag, and a horseshoe.

ATF Universe


The CDC resembled its namesake:  Centers for Disease Control.  As Buck volunteered himself and JD as hosts for Thanksgiving dinner, the two roommates went into overdrive.  The CDC, for once, was clean.  JD stood firm on this one, especially with Nettie and Casey coming over. 

He wanted Nettie to have a positive impression, no matter what kind of slob he had for a roommate.  Having said this out loud, and in Buck's selective hearing, he earned himself a painful noogie and monster-sized wedgie before belting Buck and threatening to burn the older man's black book.

The thick book in question rested in JD's pants; somewhere he thought Buck would reconsider going to retrieve it.  Therefore, the kid earned himself a cleaning slave in the form of a scoundrel constantly shooting puppy-dog eyes at him for taking the favorite toy. 

They scrubbed.  They wiped.  They swept.  They mopped.  Everything that wasn't nailed down was considered trash, unless otherwise saved by the owner and put away immediately, found a new home in the trash piles.  The trash piles consisted of a mini-mountain of garbage bags and paper bags full of recyclables. 

Cleaning the sofa produced a plethora of interesting items.  JD refused to vacuum until Buck emptied out the cushions on his favorite couch.  At one point, the mustached man was only visible from the butt down, bent over with his hands and head buried in the cracks and crevices.  He threw things in different piles behind him.  Neither man considered that the lumpiness of the couch directly related to the items shoved behind the cushions

One pile was for the loose change; Buck figured he found about ten dollars worth of quarters, nickels, and dimes.  `Course, if they cleaned the couch more often than once a year, they might have found this stuff earlier.  The next pile consisted of clothes, mostly t-shirts and the like, taken off and forgotten about during many a night coming home from work or the saloon.

The last pile consisted of odds and ends.  First, Buck found the missing remote battery cover, something lost about two weeks before, and it was still in good shape.  Second, he located a few CD's, somehow falling behind the cracks.  Third, he discovered some of his favorite adult  magazines, probably shoved under the cushions when Casey came over to hide them from her.  The one that did not make sense to him was the horseshoe.

Buck pulled it out, stared at it, and then threw it behind him for the pile.  JD happened to walk behind him at that time and nearly got bonked on the head. 

"Hey, watch it!"

"What?"

"You nearly hit me!"

"Well, there shouldn't be a horseshoe in the couch!"

"That's where it went!"

"What?  You taking to playing with horseshoes now, kid?"

"No, Buck.  It's from the riding camp I went to back east.  I got it from my favorite horse and I just found it in some stuff two months ago.  I couldn't remember where I put it."

"Well, it was in the sofa."

"Are you done?"

"No."

"Then finish.  I'm afraid of what else you'll find in there."

Buck ignored that.  "How's the turkey?"

"Fine, I just need to baste it."

"Baste it?"

"Yeah, make sure it stays juicy.  Where's the turkey baster?"

"Did you try the drawer?"

"Yes, I tried the drawer that has everything that you don't know what it is in it.  It's not there."

"What's it look like?"

"Haven't you ever seen a turkey baster before?"

"Maybe."

JD threw up his hands.  "It's about eight inches long."

"Too short."  Buck waggled his eyebrows.

"I didn't say eight centimeters, something you're used to looking at in the mirror."

"Watch it, Kid.  You want another wedgie?"

"You just can't handle the truth."

Buck took a step toward him, and JD stood his ground.  "The baster, unless you want our turkey to taste like your cooking."  Seeing Buck pause, JD continued his description.  "About eight inches long, plastic, with a round ball at the end of it.  Like a big eyedropper."

"Oh, that."  Buck looked away.

"Where is it?  Do I have to go buy a new one?"

"Um, no. It's in the dishwasher."

"What did you do with it?"

"Just filled someone's cap with water, kid."

"My cap?  When did you do that?"

"Yesterday, or didn't you notice when you left for work?"

"That was you?  Man, I thought I left it wet from the wash!"

"You were supposed to."

"Buck, I'm gonna"

Ding-dong.  The doorbell sounded and that cut off any further argument, as Buck let in a very early Vin. 

"Hey."

"Vin, welcome.  Sorry, we're still cleaning."

"'ey, Vin.  Buck's still cleaning, I'm getting ready to baste the

turkey."

"Ya want help?"

"Cleaning?" asked Buck hopefully, staring at the discombobulated couch.

Vin shrugged.  "Sure."

Buck handed of the vacuum cleaner and set Vin to work while he cleaned the piles off the floor and moved to the laundry piled in the corner.  Once that disappeared, JD continued checking on the food and making sure things were in order.

When the three men finished, the entire CDC sparkled.  The floors hereunto undiscovered gleamed.  Nothing was out of place; no pictures, paintings, and prints had one iota of dust.  They stared in amazement at the place.

Buck offered a toast.  "To friends, lending a hand, and giving thanks for them just being there."

They clicked bottles, waiting for the others to arrive.

THE END