Prompt 8 (Mouse in the House): It’s snowing outside, and it’s going to keep snowing--all night long. They're not calling it a blizzard but it sure does feel like one. The power seems like it’ll stay on, which is good because it’s so cold outside. You’re safe and warm--but you’re not alone. At first, you might not notice anything. Maybe you see something move out of the corner of your eye, or hear something in the other room. It doesn’t take long to find the culprit: a mouse.

A mouse is sharing your living space, your shelter from the storm. On one hand, you don’t know where it’s been. On the other hand, it’s freezing outside, and it has big, sweet eyes. Do you have the heart to kick anything out in this weather? ...Do you really want that thing running around your place unchecked?


Despite the soundproofing inside Rob Anybody's home-built music studio, music drifted through the basement and out the open door leading down to it. He was alone in the house, Sidney having gone off on a holiday date with her girlfriend the attorney, and he was taking advantage of the quiet and solitude to work on some song ideas he'd had floating around his head for awhile now; he wanted to get them down on paper and refine them to the point he could actually do something with them.

Resettling his beloved John Lennon acoustic guitar in his lap, he put down the pen he'd used to scratch out a chord progression on a scrap of music paper and switched on the mini recording deck again. Doing this sort of work didn't call for the big mixer, just the little one to note any "happy accidents" that came out of his noodling. He played through what he'd just written down, nodding along in approval. Yep, this was going to be a good one. Riffing through a quick solo to get the melody down, he started to sing along, just nonsense words at this point – the real lyrics would come later.

Suddenly he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. "What the ********?" he muttered to himself, turning off the recorder. Something had run across the floor of the studio and out into the unfinished basement. With a heavy, annoyed sigh, he put the guitar back on its stand and got up off the stool he'd been sitting on. Peering out the door, he saw a pair of tiny eyes staring back at him, then disappearing into the detritus that filled the rest of the room. "Oh great, a ******** mouse. Not in MY house, mate!"

The angry Englishman stormed out of his studio and into the darkness of the basement proper. Rounding an antique fridge, he grabbed a broom and brandished it like a weapon. "Where did you go, you little b*****d?" he grumbled. He would smash that invader into its component molecules.

A deep, eerie growl answered him, and a pair of glowing eyes appeared in the shadows at about shoulder height on him. "What th-" he managed to get out before something that was much heavier than a tiny little mouse lunged at him, knocking him flat on his back as it rushed past him and into deeper shadows. Scrambling to his feet, he rubbed the back of his head where it had connected with the concrete floor. What was that thing? Couldn't be a youma, not in HIS house…. Could it?

Rob wasn't going to take any chances. Pulling his ever-present henshin pen out of his jeans pocket, he quickly powered up. "All right, you," Puck growled, "where did you go?" Fists clenched, he dove into the shadows – right into a shrieking dark mass of claws and teeth.

"s**t!' The Eternal Senshi immediately fought back, bashing the thing over the head (or at least where he thought the head was) with his fists. It continued shrieking and howling and clawing him and attempting to bite him; it was all Puck could do to keep out of range of those glistening sharp rodent teeth.

The battle raged on for a good five minutes before Puck, his uniform in tatters, stepped back. "I have had ENOUGH!" he shouted, slamming his forehead into the youma mouse's head. It howled in pain at the impact, almost immediately turning into a glittering cloud of dust that settled on the floor. "********' HELL," the Senshi shouted as he caught his breath and let the adrenaline of the fight fade. How had a youma gotten into his house? And why had it come in?

Looking toward one of the basement windows, he could see the snow piling up outside, the wind rattling against the glass. The thing must have gotten in somehow trying to escape the storm! Now he felt a little bad – it had only wanted to shelter from the weather outside, and he'd gone and dusted it. He let his powered form fall away from him. "Poor little guy," Rob murmured. "s**t, I need a drink…"

WC: 700