Marshall arrives in the middle of the night to their Nevada home to find Elton already snuggled down in bed sound asleep.
“Sweetheart . . . wake up.” Marshall softly whispers in his ear, pausing with a warm smile a second at how normal the words sound.
“I have a surprise for you.” Marshall excitedly sings into his ear.
“Mmmmuh?” Elton sleepily moans, subconsciously rolling towards his Baby’s voice.
“Elton!” Marshall loudly says with a wicked laugh, after no real responds.
“Aaahhh!” Elton screams opening his eyes to darkness with something fuzzy attacking his face, with its wet tongue.
“What is it?” Elton asks half asleep and now scared, backing up against the headboard.
“A puppy.” Marshall matter of factly comments, grabbing the little black gold fuzz ball, and leaning over clicking on the night-light.
“Ooooh how cute?” Elton cheers as he happily hands the hyper fuzz ball over.
“Where did you get?” Elton asks, petting the hyper puppy in his arms, not knowing if she or he.
“He . . . Sharon.” Marshall happily explains, getting up from the bed and grabbing his backpack from the floor.
“Princess is soooo going to love him.” Elton happily comments, wondering why if he was already in Michigan why didn’t he just take the puppy home to her instead of bringing it all the way to Nevada.
“Here are his papers; his parents are Somebody’s in the Yorkshire world.” Marshall nonchalantly explains, laying out a folder.
“Sharon thought maybe you would like this, she says it’s a bible to raising him.” Marshall quickly adds, laying out a large hard cover book on Miniature Yorkshire Terriers.
“She also sent this.” Marshall adds in, laying out an envelope on the bed.
“You don’t like him?” Marshall nervously asks, noticing his partner’s face making several weird expressions.
“You bought him for me?” Elton says with tears of joy kissing over the puppy’s head.
“If you don’t like him I can take him . . . .” Marshall nervously rattles, reaching for the puppy, Elton now in full tear mode.
“No You Can’t!” Elton firmly states pulling the hyper puppy even closer to his chest.
“So you like him?” Marshall nervously asks, and Elton emotionally shakes his head yes, leaning over and placing a simple kiss on his Baby’s prefect lips.
“He’s Perfect! Thank you thank you thank you.” Elton emotionally rattles, leaning in more for a more passionate kiss.
“Now the motherfucker wants to sleep.” Marshall breathlessly says; slightly pulling away; noticing the hyper shit is relaxing in Elton’s arms.
“Baby.” Elton pitifully whines, cradling the puppy in his arms.
“Well! . . . On the plane all he did was run around and bark. Not that normal barking that annoying puppy yap yap yap yap.” Marshall defensively explains; pulling more puppy things out of his backpack.
“What’s in the envelope?” Elton curiously asks leaning back against the headboard, as Marshall starts gathering all the stuff from the bed.
“A letter from Sharon.” Marshall simple says, dumping all the stuff on the chaise beside the bed.
“What’s it say?” Elton asks, kissing over the puppy’s head for the millionths time.
“I don’t know . . . open it.” Marshall says, walking back over to the bed with the envelope.
“You open it . . . I can’t Precious is sleeping.” Elton cheerfully whispers, cuddling the puppy in his arms.
“Sweetheart! You are Not calling HIM Precious!” Marshall firmly states, removing his hoodie and tossing in the area of the chaise.
“That’s not where that goes . . . I can name My gift what I want.” Elton quietly says, not wanting to wake Precious.
“It’s a male. He needs a Male name!” Marshall explains picking up his hoodie and tossing it again this time towards the dressing room; which means still on the floor.
“What about King, Blackie . . . Hennessy?” Marshall suggests, sitting down on the bed and removing his shoes.
“Noooo.” Elton firmly whines, scrunching up his nose.
“Anything but Precious I just . . . Here Precious here Precious.” Marshall explains shaking his head no laughing; imagining calling out for the fuzz ball.
“It sounds sissy.” Marshall quickly adds, now walking over to Elton’s side of the bed removing his t-shirt.
“Care to join me in the shower?” Marshall seductively asks leaning over in front of him.
“Precious will wake up if I put him down.” Elton pitifully says, wondering if he actually can lay his precious gift down.
“His name is not Precious . . . what about . . .Thug.” Marshall explains, sitting down on the bed, at his side.
“Noooo.” Elton whines, kissing the sleeping puppy’s head.
“Precious is a female name He is a Male.” Marshall tries to clearly explain; but it hitting him that his partner just turned him down.
“What happen to the letter from Sharon?” Elton says, wanting to know Precious parent’s names.
“What happened to joining me in the shower?” Marshall pitifully whines, leaning over and grabbing the envelope from the foot of the bed, and holding it out.
“Open it please.” Elton says with a warm smile.
“You’ve got to put him down eventually.” Marshall says, opening the letter and handing it over.
“Thank You.” Elton sincerely says, carefully scooting down in the bed a little.
“I guess . . . I’ll take a shower all by myself.” Marshall playfully announces and then places a kiss on Elton’s forehead as he reads the letter from his private secretary, which at the moment he wishes never mentioned she had puppies for sell.
Sharon first explains what a privilege it is to have Sir Elton John own one of her puppies. Then goes on to explain his parent’s names and that they both come from a long line of AKC champions and his birthday which makes him eight weeks old, and that all family and his medical history are in the medical folder, and if he has any questions please call her any time.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Marshall with a towel lightly wrapped around his waist stands in front of his open boxer drawer laughing to himself; knowing Elton’s pajamas where blue, but all his choices of blue look blue, but knowing his partner will quickly know between the blues.
Interrupted from his thoughts of wondering if he’d notice if he just nonchalantly took the final two choices back into the bedroom and held them up to his pajamas, by him rushing into the room with the puppy still in his arms, but now wide-awake.
“We’re going shopping.” Elton cheerfully announces, handing Precious gently over.
“What?” Marshall curiously asks, taking the hyper shit into his arms and following Elton to his side of the large dressing room.
“Precious needs things.” Elton rattles, pulling out clothes to put on, but quickly leans over and places a kiss on Precious’ head.
“You and any thing but Precious go shopping I’m going to bed.” Marshall sincerely explains, handing the fuzz ball back and walking back over to his side to fuckin’ grab any fuckin’ color boxers.
“His name is Precious and he needs to eat, according to Sharon it’s been almost eight hours since he ate, and he needs things.” Elton sincerely whines closely following, quickly pulling the Indigo boxers from his perfect hands and quickly replacing with the true blueberry ones.
“I Feed Him! On the plane and there’s more in the backpack, and a blanket with his mother’s . . . . smell.” Marshall explains, actually getting a pain in his heart thinking back to picking him out from the litter and the look in his mother’s eyes as he lifted him away; letting the towel drop.
“Everything he needs for the night is in the backpack.” Marshall informs pulling on the boxers, as Elton rushes from the room.
“We still need to go shopping.” Elton pitifully whines, now sitting on the floor pulling stuff from the backpack, as Precious makes his way over to Marshall’s hoodie and attacks it.
“It’s two thirty-eight in the morning. We’ll go tomorrow.” Marshall explains, lying across the foot of the bed.
“I guess you’ll have to learn how Not throw your clothes on the floor.” Elton says with a laugh, getting to his knees in front of his Baby.
“He’ll learn not to chew on the good shit.” Marshall playfully says pulling him into an awkward passionate kiss that’s interrupted by Precious yapping and running around in circles.
“He might have to potty.” Marshall comments in concern, slightly pulling away.
“What do we do?” Elton frantically urgently asks picking him up.
“We put the lead on him and take him outdoors.” Marshall explains jumping from the bed, and grabbing the lead and following Elton out the French Doors.
Marshall sits down in one of the lounge chairs and watches a grown man; get down on his knees in the grass to watch a tiny fuzz ball relieve his self. Then praise and kiss all over him when he is finished.
“I’m going to bed.” Marshall announces after a few minutes of watching the two explore the lawn.
Several long moments later Marshall sleepily hears him come in and go to the bathroom whispering to the fuzz ball, then return and begin crawling into bed.
“Did you put newspaper down?” Marshall sleepily asks rolling over to face him; remembering what Sharon told him.
“He can’t sleep with us. You have to put him in the bathroom with newspapers.” Marshall explains, noticing he’s snuggling down in bed with the fuzz ball.
“Have you lost your mind? Precious is a good boy. He’ll tell me when he needs to go.” Elton whispers, getting comfortable.
“Whatever . . . Sweet Dreams.” Marshall sleepily says placing a kiss on his soft lips, and then yawning rolling back over.
“You didn’t tell Precious Sweet Dreams.” Elton quickly informs, nudging his perfect shoulder.
“I’m not calling him Precious.” Marshall tries to firmly state, as he’s nudged again; quickly wondering what in the hell has he gotten into.
“I Love You!” Elton sincerely says, with his whole body heart and soul, placing a kiss on his perfect muscular shoulder.
“I Love You Too! But I’m not calling him Precious.” Marshall sleepily mumbles.
“Then you can call him Gift.” Elton whispers, caressing his hand softly over his perfect muscular back.
“Click off the light and go to sleep.” Marshall softly whispers slowly rolling over as Elton is carefully reaching over to click off the light.
“I Love You and My Precious Gift.” Elton softly says, snuggling close to his Baby with Precious sleeping on his chest.
“I Love You and what’s his name. Sweet Dreams.” Marshall softly says, pulling Elton and the fuzz ball into his arms.
~ Epilogue ~
The madness begins even before daylight, with Precious having to potty and Elton excitedly waking his Baby afterwards just to say “I Told You.”, who just sleepily growls rolling over and sinking further down in the bed pulling the covers over his head.
Overly excited but coming to reality that he has no clue about being an owner Elton quickly calls one of his dearest friends Sharon Osbourne whom points him the right direction of the proper doggie boutiques, veterinarians, professional grooming, food . . . so on and so forth. Sharon just playfully comments that he should appear on her talk show next week to announce to the world about his new addition and he excitedly accepts much to her surprise.
The following night he proudly announces to the audience at the beginning of his Red Piano Concert at Caesar’s Palace that there’s a new addition to his family and nicely asks the audience not to loudly cheer, and then motions Dorothy his private executive assistant to bring Precious onto the stage. Camera’s quickly blasts close-ups images across large screens through out the arena, as ooooo’s and awwws fill the air. Precious quickly taking to all the attention and doing everything adorable that he can think of after Daddy places him on top of the piano.
After his Encore the audience chants Precious Gift and he proudly brings him back out and emotionally plays “The One” as Precious proudly sits on the top of the piano; never playing it publicly since that all so precious day in England.
The media following with great interest as Sir Elton John is announced as being an Exclusive Guest on Sharon’s talk show, some actually making bets on how many times he’ll mention Eminem, but are floored when it really does just slip that he bought Precious from Eminem’s private secretary.
Paul having the Big conniption as it hits every tabloid and television entertainment show as Dre jubilantly laughs wondering if his secretary has anything to possible sell that could cause so much free press.
Marshall sitting back with his normal blank expression; silently thinking the press is a walk in the park on a beautiful spring day, when you have to live with the Fuzz Ball.
©2005 Nite Storm Productions
