A/N: I own nothing. V, v sad, I know. I also don't own anything from Napoleon Dynamite, which is briefly mentioned. This is the continuation of 'Tuesday' and may be a bit confusing if you don't read that first.
It's something unpredictable
But in the end is right
Flack had never felt so disgusting. Never. Not once in his entire life. He was absolutely covered in everything from alphabet soup to pencil shavings. He'd been chasing a perp and the guy hit him with a bag full of trash. The smell was making him gag slightly, and he didn't even want to know what was in his hair. It was clear-ish and sticky. He was going with spit. Of course it was spit. The other alternative was far too disgusting, seeing as there had been used condoms near by and….he shivered.
He pushed open the door and pulled off his shoes, which were covered in instant coffee and scrambled eggs. He pulled off his jacket, which was covered in macaroni and tuna, dropping it on the floor in disgust. He peeled off the rest of his clothes and jumped in the shower. He had just finished vigorously scrubbing the alphabet soup ad mystery substance from his hair when a weird sound came from the corner of the bathroom.
"No!" He shouted through the shower curtain.
The noise came again, closer this time.
"No!" He shouted again, pulling the curtain aside and pointing towards the door.
Pedro came closer.
"No!" He said again.
The duck stared at him but waddled closer.
"No! Bad Pedro! BAD!"
The duck ignored him and lumbered into the shower.
He sighed and looked at the duck, currently waddling its way through the steady stream of water.
He bent down to pick him up, but Pedro made a scary noise and tried to attack him, so he let him stay in there.
After a while, he turned off the shower and climbed out, wrapping a towel around his waist and rifling through the dresser in the bedroom as quietly as he could. Aiden stirred slightly in bed as Pedro jumped up with her and nestled himself against Aiden's pregnant stomach.
He stared at the duck and pulled his shirt over his head, heading into the kitchen. He grabbed a beer and a bag of chips, not really caring about being all that healthy, cause', hey, he'd been attacked with a bag of garbage, which constitutes as a pretty crap day. He plunked down on the couch and flipped the TV on, flipping through the channels and finally settling on the Yankees game.
After a while, Pedro came out of the bedroom and jumped up next to Flack on the couch. Flack offered a chip to Pedro. Pedro ate it willingly, even though he usually hated Flack. Flack was a genuinely nice guy, but to be quite honest, if Aiden wasn't so attached to the stupid thing, he probably would've gotten rid of it by now. Aiden loved him, and even insisted on naming the duck Pedro after the lunatic from Napoleon Dynamite. Flack hated that movie. Aiden adored it. So much, in fact, that they'd already seen it six times. Flack shuddered to think of what she wanted to name the baby. He couldn't imagine being the dad of a kid named 'Kip'.
He shuddered at the thought and took a long draw of beer. Pedro grew bored and returned to the bedroom with Aiden. That duck really loved her. And yeah, he'd pretty much gotten used to the guys at the station laughing at the picture of him and Aiden and Pedro on his desk. He was just waiting for the day when one of them got married and their wife formed some attachment to some dumb thing. Oh, how he would laugh when stupid Charlie Roland had a picture on his desk of him and his future wife and some crap ankle-biter dog. A yorkie, perhaps.
He laughed loudly at the thought, and mentally blamed it on the sort of day he had. He switched off the game and stood up, scratching the back of his soup and who-know-what-else free head. He pulled his shirt off and fell into the bed, too lazy to take off his jeans. He wrapped his arm around Aiden not all that surprised when Pedro tried to bite his fingers. But bite on, mad thing. He already had six scars. He was used to it. Aiden stirred slightly.
"Bad Pedro." She murmured, and snuggled back further into Flack.
He kissed the side of her head and murmured in her ear.
"You don't want to name the baby Kip, do you?
She smiled slightly.
"I was thinking more along the lines of Rico."
She laughed quietly.
A/N: Yay! Reviews rock Flack's socks.