#also I maaaay have a fic in mind with the dad trio concerning the specific story Badger is about to tell

[sardinesandhumbugs]

Can I request #22 “nap” with Ratty and Badger?? (Platonic) just omg I love the way you write them

Sure thing! More good good (I hope!) Badger and Ratty interactions coming up! 

x

It was late when Rat woke. 

No, not late – dark. He was underground and it was simply dark. He turned his ears to the sound of conversation and crockery, muffled by several doors’ interference. 

“Mrs Otter and Mole are tidying up dinner,” Badger remarked from behind a newspaper, just about visible by his paws and the party hat disgruntledly seated between his ears. “They said to leave you sleeping,” he added, just as Rat started to move. “They’ve got this.”

Rat slumped back into the chair he had curled up in. “And Toad and Portia?” he asked, taking note of the other two animals missing from the equation.

“Exploring the tunnels. Figured they can’t get too lost and, even if they do, they’re loud enough for us to find them, if needs be.”

“I’m not sure if you’re over or underestimating them.” 

“We’ll soon find out.”

Rat shifted the blanket that someone had taken care to cast over him – as well as set aside the party hat from the dinner’s festivities, he discovered – and glanced Badger’s way. “All the same, it feels somewhat impolite to be caught sleeping during your birthday celebrations.”

“If you’re about to suggest another round of charades, you should know I’ve already vetoed it.”

“After the last game? No fear.”

Badger chuckled. The newspaper rustled and, after some considerable consideration, he set it aside. “The last time there was a party here of any note,” he said, talking slowly as if having to draw deep to gather the memories, “was my birthday before you and Toad were born.” He gave a fondly derisive snort. “Toad’s father took to organising it, proclaiming something about making the most of it before he and your father had pupminding duties to be taking care of. Ridiculous amphibian.”  

“My father never mentioned it.”

“He wouldn’t have. He slept through the whole thing.”

Rat laughed. “My father could have slept through an earthquake.”

“He did, once.”

“No–”

“Well, an over-enthusiastic tremor,” Badger amended, “but he still slept through it. Like you, he found the air beneath-ground tiring; he could barely get through a meal here without letting slumber get the better of him.” Moments passed; Badger’s paw twitched as if itching to reclaim the newspaper and retire safely behind it. When he spoke again, his voice was gentle. Tired. “You are like him in so many ways.”

“Fewer than I’d like,” Rat admitted. “He always seemed to have the situation under control.”

Badger chuckled. “Perhaps it looked that way as a pup, but I can assure you that his sailing through life was more swanlike than anything else – serene and calm from above, but furious paddling from beneath. Oh, the stories I could tell–” He cut his own musings short. “Well, why don’t I?” He glanced to the door, as if to assure himself that they weren’t about to be interrupted, and leant conspiringly forward. “I don’t believe I ever told you the full story of when Toad’s father shared the tunnels beneath Toad Hall with your father and me. It started out, as many such stories do, with a single drink...”