Sun and Scales

by WesleysGirl



"This is a waste of time," Rodney said.

"I don't hear you saying that when you're eating them," John pointed out.

They were sitting side by side on a crooked wooden pier, with the waves lapping the shore behind them. The sun was shining, the water was an impossible shade of green-blue, and if Rodney could have stopped complaining for two minutes they might have actually been able to enjoy themselves.

"I thought you said this was going to be fun." Rodney lifted his hook up out of the water. "Look, the bait is still there. Even the fish are bored."

"They aren't bored, they're scared. It kind of freaks them out when the hook appears and disappears six million times." John sighed. "Try keeping it in the water."

"But then I can't tell if they're biting!" Rodney leaned forward, but he did lower the hook into the water again.

John shifted his weight. "Believe me, you'll know."

"How will I know? It's not like I've ever done this before." Rodney watched the surface of the water, apparently lulled by the rhythm of the waves, and John started to relax. This was what fishing was supposed to be about; enjoying the quiet, having a few beers -- well, okay, so they didn't have any beer, but at least now that Rodney had shut up it was quiet.

He was just getting lulled into a false sense of security when Rodney started to pull his hook up again. "Would you just -- " John yelped as the large and wriggling fish on the end of Rodney's line came straight at his face. It hit him anyway, smacking against his neck. He dropped his own makeshift rod into the sea and grabbed for the fish, chasing it as it flopped to and fro along the pier to the accompaniment of Rodney's startled shouts.

With his hands full of struggling wet fish and what felt like a splinter in his knee, John looked up at Rodney, who was highlighted by the sun that shone to their east. His expression was a combination of surprise, joy, and what might have been a childlike sort of pride. In that instant John would have dragged Rodney on a hundred outings and put up with a thousand complaints if it had meant being responsible for putting that look on his face.

"You were right!" Rodney was saying, talking as much with his hands as anything else, just like he always did. "You were right! I knew!"

"Yeah," John said, grinning. "You did."

"Maybe this fishing thing isn't so bad after all." Rodney's eyes were as bright as John had ever seen them.

"Uh huh. You want to get me that basket before this thing jumps back into the water?" John gestured with his chin.

"Oh, right. Right. I'll just get that." Rodney set his rod down and turned to get the basket, and John's hands smelled like fish and he knew his pants probably did too, and he could feel the familiar sting of sunburn on his cheeks, but he couldn't stop smiling.


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