Actions

Work Header

Behold! A Man

Summary:

Jay Gatsby needs to get revenge against Tom Buchanan, and what better way to do that other than to steal his prized polo horse? Except maybe, perhaps, that horse isn't just a horse.

Takes place timeline-wise, before when the book starts.

Notes:

hello!! the very wonderful Mirror_of_Rime has translated this fic into Mandarin Chinese (中文-普通话 國語), which you can read [here]!! please check it out if you are interested or if that is your language of preference!

dedicated to all my friends in the gatsby server

yes this is directly related to concepts formed with respect to cowboy gatsby

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Jay dabs at the cut above his eye and squints at his reflection in the mirror. It's not deep enough to need stitches, but it still looks pretty bad. It'll probably scar.

He stomps across his mansion until he reaches his balcony and slumps down in his chair. The Buchanan mansion across the sound is as beautiful as ever, but the green light, at the end of the dock, has never seemed dimmer. How infuriating.

Jay rubs at his temples, wincing as he presses straight into a bruise. Who did Tom Buchanan even think he was, beating Jay up in Jay's own house just for talking to his wife, Daisy. It's not like Tom even seemed to care about her. He'd spent the bulk of the party clearly flirting with other women.

Jay stares at the mansion carefully. He can't see much from here, but he has managed to acquire, through perhaps less than legal means, the architectural plans for Tom’s home, so he has approximate knowledge of what is what and what is where.

What he needs, more than anything right now, is revenge. Forget all his other plans. At this point, Tom doesn't even need to know that Jay's a force to be reckoned with. Jay just wants to stick him where it hurts.

And what better way to do that than to steal his prized Arabian polo horse?


Jay rents a horse trailer and sets course for the East Egg. Tom's mansion is so large that he should never notice the truck parked a ways off the road, just on the edges of his property.

Tom is also not quite the type to leave the house in the evening if he is already indoors to begin with. This means that now, just after sunset with the sky rapidly dimming, is the perfect time for Jay to commit his perfect crime. He sneaks across the lawn, virtually invisible in the light, picks the lock on the stable door, and is immediately greeted with the sight of three entire Arabian horses.

Christ. The man must be rich. Jay shouldn't be surprised, but it doesn't stop him from feeling a little inadequate.

The Arabians aren't the only horses in the stable. There are several Thoroughbreds, a black horse of a breed he doesn't recognize, and one that he's pretty sure is a Friesian. They must all have been exceedingly expensive on the individual level, but the Arabians are definitely the showstoppers of the bunch. Now he just has to figure out which one of the three is Tom's prize horse.

All three have a rich, chestnut coat, but the two stallions on the right have brown manes. The one on the left has a beautiful, silky black mane, a slightly larger stall, and, for some inexplicable reason, a saddle on its back. Jay doesn't know much about horses, but he's pretty sure that the saddles are supposed to come off when no one's riding the horse.

On the other hand, it's basically proof that Tom actually rides this horse, and with all the stand-out features, this is probably the one he's looking for.

He approaches the horse carefully, opening the stall door and stepping inside. Jay's never been the biggest fan of horses. It's not like he dislikes them or anything, but they've got these eyes that make it look like they're always judging him.

This horse, however, seems to like him just fine. It actually sidesteps a little to give Jay space when he enters and gently noses Jay's pockets looking for food when he gets close enough.

Jay, who had brought oats specifically for the purpose of making the horse like him, presents them to the horse deviously. The horse must not sense Jay's ulterior motive because it gobbles them up, eating right out of Jay's hand. It's incredibly gentle about it, like chomping on Jay's fingers is something that it genuinely wants to avoid.

As soon as the horse is done, Jay gives the saddle a good examination. The horse stays perfectly still as he does it. How odd.

The saddle is fancier than the other ones he’s seen. The leather has fine, intricate patterns pressed into it and there are actual gemstones inlaid into the gold-plated metal. The cinches underneath the horse that hold the saddle in place are far more complex than he’d expected. He fiddles with it for a few minutes, but it’s like trying to untangle an impossible knot. Every time he thinks he finds an end, he finds it caught up in some hopeless logic trap, strange metal forms twisting together into a single unit.

It also doesn’t help that the horse keeps staring at him, blinking owlishly and otherwise remaining unnaturally calm. He knew Arabians were generally a more relaxed breed, but this was ridiculous.

He gives the cinches one last exasperated look. He came here to steal a horse and to screw over Tom, and some convoluted saddle cinch isn’t going to stand in his way. Beautiful craftsmanship be damned, that saddle is coming off.

He takes his knife out of his pocket and releases the blade with a snick. He cuts the leather near the cinches at their nearest points, grabs onto the horn of the saddle, and yanks it off the horse’s back.

Jay is knocked on his back as white smoke explodes around him. He can’t see anything, but he can feel the wooden wall at his back and the saddle near his right hand.

He tries to cough the smoke out of his lungs but ends up breathing in more of it. He brings a hand to his face and tries to clear the air with his other.

As the smoke dissipates, Jay notices that the horse is gone, and in his place stands a man. The man is beautiful, if in a bit of a plain sort of way. None of his individual features are particularly striking, but they come together beautifully, kind of like the Arabian. He has a bit of a narrow frame, a bit on the skinnier side, though not without some muscle.

The man isn’t wearing much—just a loose shirt and underwear, hardly presentable. He doesn’t really seem to notice, though, as he stands over Jay with a broad smile on his face.

“You saved me,” the man says, sticking out his hand to help Jay up. Jay takes it and the man pulls him to his feet easily.

“I’m glad to be out of that thing,” the man says, giving the discarded saddle a bitter look. “I’m Nick, by the way.”

“Uh,” says Jay. “I’m Jay.”

“Jay?” Nick says, stretching and massaging his neck. “Like the bird?”

“I guess?” Jay replies, more confused. “Are you...” He doesn’t want to come off as crazy, but there are only so many ways to interpret this series of events. “...the horse?”

“I mean, yeah, isn’t it obvious?”

“Is it supposed to be?” Jay asks, trying not to sound too hysterical. The plan is rapidly falling off the rails.

“Why else would you be here?” A confused look screws up Nick’s features. “Wait, if you didn't know this would happen, then why did you come here and y'know—" He gestures vaguely to the discarded saddle.

"Honestly? I just wanted to get revenge against Tom—" Nick grimaces at the mention of his name. "—so I was going to steal the uh...you."

Nick takes a few seconds to process this. His thinking face is cute, though Jay prefers the smile he'd first had on when Nick had first turned into a...human. It was going to take a while for him to get used to all this.

“Well,” Nick says, at last, “I’m good with any plan that involves getting one over on Tom. What was the next step supposed to be?”

“I’ve got a horse trailer parked out that way,” Jay says. “I was gonna use that to transport...you.”

“A little suspicious,” Nick says, “but good.” He grabs the saddle and starts heading out of the stable. “Alright, let’s go.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jay says, taking off his jacket and draping it over Nick’s shoulders. “You’re a...a little nude.”

“Huh?” Nick looks down at himself, seemingly realizing his state undress for the first time. “Oh.” He flushes beautifully. “Thanks.”


On the way back, Nick explains everything. He’s pretty much human and was actually born as such, but he comes from a long line of people that can turn into Arabian horses. It’s something Nick can do at will, but the saddle that he was wearing in the barn would actually trap him in horse form as long as it was physically on his back.

“I was in New York visiting Daisy. She’s my cousin,” Nick explains, “but distant enough that she doesn’t share my ability. The saddle was an heirloom apparently passed down through the Buchanan family. When Tom saw me...I don’t know. He just knew what I was. He trapped me, forced the saddle on me.” Nick shudders. “The saddle...it messes with your brain, makes you obedient. Compliant. That was two years ago. I’ve been his prize polo horse ever since. At least, until now.”

Jay grips the steering wheel and forcefully keeps his eyes on the road. In light of this new information, simply liberating Nick from Tom’s grasp is nowhere near revenge enough.


The saddle smells downright rancid as it burns, but the look of relief on Nick’s face makes every second of the entire ordeal absolutely worth it.


Jay sets up Nick with his own room in his mansion. Jay’s suits don’t fit Nick well. He’s a bit narrower in the shoulders and slightly taller, so he ends up calling in a tailor.

“Are you sure this is strictly necessary,” Nick asks nervously, watching as the tailor circles him with measuring tape. He’s dressed down again, though in a tighter shirt this time, and he keeps shying away from the tailor’s cold touch.

“Oh, yes,” Jay says. “Absolutely.” He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying the view, but it is important for Nick to be able to blend well into Jay’s world, at least for the purposes of getting revenge on Tom.


Their first joint scheme in Operation Reverse Trojan relies on Jay’s extensive knowledge of Tom’s estate.

Nick flips through the pages of Jay’s planner, each page covered from top to bottom with information. Detailed profiles on residents and visitors, weekly delivery schedules. A list of the people working on the estate along with all of their possible weaknesses.

“Are you sure you’re not obsessed with this guy?” Nick asks.

“No,” Jay deflects.

“I mean, if someone had a book like this on me, I’d think they were in love with me.” Nick puts the book down. “How many of these did you say you had?”

“Five,” Jay says grudgingly.

“Got anything in here on me?” Nick asks.

Jay picks up the fourth book, opens it, flips a few pages to the right, and hands it over to him.

Nick reads the entry. It’s a little shorter than the rest, mostly because Jay hadn’t been able to get into Tom’s stables, and the only Arabian he’s ever seen Tom ride is Nick.

Jay realizes partway through Nick’s reading that his description of Nick-as-a-horse was a little...flatteringly effusive. In his defense, Nick was one of the most beautiful horses he’d ever seen.

When Nick finishes, he looks up at Jay with a little smirk on his face.

“I didn’t know you were a human,” Jay complains. He snatches the book from Nick’s hands and picks up the first book from the table again.

“Here. On Tuesday, Tom gets a delivery of truffles delivered to his mansion,” Jay says, flipping to the schedule summary page. “If we can run consistent interference on those deliveries, then that’ll put a damper on his meals.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Nick squints at the schedule. “It also says here that he gets his laundry done on Thursdays. What if I ate his clothes?”

Jay bookmarks the page with his finger and flips to the listings of staff weaknesses. “The guy who ferries the clothes...right here it says his weakness is...huh. Truffles.”

Nick snorts. “Really?”

Jay turns the book around.

Sure enough, the line reads, “Martin Roberts, Laundry, Weaknesses: Truffles.”

“Astounding.”


Operation Reverse Trojan only escalates from there. After a few weeks of petty theft, Jay starts to spend his considerable wealth to poach Tom’s workers.

The gardener is an easy grab.

“Tom is a menace,” the gardener exclaims, raising her hedge trimmers into the air. “He is exacting, insulting, and never ever satisfied.”

Jay had a whole counter-offer type speech written up, but it doesn’t look like he’ll need it after all.

“Uh, we’ll pay you twice your old wage?”

“Deal,” she says, grabbing Jay’s hand from his side and shaking it before stalking off.

 

The stablehand is a different story.

“I’m willing to pay you twice whatever Tom’s paying you,” Jay says, following the stablehand as he flits around the stable doing his work.

“I’m not interested,” the young man replies, grabbing a rake to collect the hay in the temporarily empty stalls.

“Triple?”

The stablehand whirls around, nearly hitting Jay with the rake. “Do you know why I’m working here? The horses here are magnificent. The money matters less than the opportunity, and unless you have an Arabian as magnificent as the one that ran away, then you will never get me to leave.”

Well.

“Meet me outside my...” Jay realizes very suddenly that he doesn’t actually have stables. “...mansion. Tomorrow at noon.”

“Your mansion?”

“It’s right across the sound. You can’t miss it,” Jay says.

The stablehand gives him a weird look, but he doesn’t explain why. “Fine.”

 

“So the stablehand isn’t going to consider our offer unless we, and I quote, ‘have an Arabian as magnificent as the one that ran away’,” Jay says, peeling an orange and handing it to Nick.

Nick fiddles with the orange, separating the segments and pulling off the rest of the white bits. “Are we trying to get the stablehand already? You don’t even have stables.”

“Do we need them?” Jay complains.

“Unless you want your horse to run away, poop everywhere, or freeze, it’s not an entirely bad idea.”

“Maybe the horse just lives inside my mansion,” Jay says. “It’s kind of true already.”

“And that’s what we’re gonna tell him?” Nick asks.

“Do you have a better idea?” Jay asks.

Nick looks down at the orange segments. “We could pretend to not be home.”

“So you don’t have anything then?” Jay laughs. Nick shoves an orange segment into his mouth as revenge.

“I’ll play the part,” Nick says, “but I still think it’s a bad idea.”

 

The stablehand shows up at noon on the dot.

“Come in,” Jay says, opening up his front door and motioning for the man to come inside.

The stablehand hesitates. “Where are your stables?” he asks.

“I don’t have any,” Jay says.

“You don’t...have any,” the stablehand repeats. “If you’re not going to take this seriously, I should just go.”

“No, I’m serious, he—the horse—is right inside,” Jay says quickly, pulling the door open even more.

The stablehand sighs and shakes his head but comes inside anyway.

Nick’s standing in the middle of the room, doing nothing but watching them. It’s a little weird to see him as a horse again, but if the stablehand signs on, he’ll have to get used to it.

“That,” the stablehand says, pointing straight at the horse, “is Mr. Buchanan’s missing horse, Casserolé!”

“No he isn’t,” Jay says. “Although, now that you mention it, they do look kind of similar.”

“That is literally Casserolé,” the stablehand exclaims, marching over to Nick to grab his face so he can examine him. “Here, you can see, a whorl here! and here!” He points emphatically at different places on Nick’s horse body.

“Maybe they’re twins,” Jay says.

The stablehand sighs. “You really don’t know anything about horses, do you.”

“Nick here is the only horse I know about,” Jay says with a shrug.

Nick whinnies in response.

“Nick?” The stablehand looks rapidly between Nick and Jay and back again. “Your horse is named Nick? What an odd name for a horse.”

Nick’s head sways from side to side, almost as if he was trying to shake it.

“You know what?” the stablehand says. “Casserolé or Nick or whatever this horse is supposed to be called, he looks healthier than he did in Mr. Buchanan’s stable. For this reason, I will not report you to the police, and I will not tell Mr. Buchanan where Casserolé is. However. Do not contact me again.”

The stablehand stalks out, slamming the front door behind him.

In a puff of white smoke, Nick transforms back into a human. “Told you we should have pretended to not be home,” he says, patting Jay on the shoulder and then leaving.


Jay finishes the call with his informant inside Tom’s mansion.

“Tom’s attending a party at the end of week,” Jay says. “I’ll need to talk to the host, but I think I can get us an invite.”

“And why would we want to go to this?” Nick asks.

“Imagine the look on Tom’s face when he sees his two mortal enemies hanging out and thriving.”

“I don’t think we’re really his...mortal enemies,” Nick says, “but you have a point.”

Jay looks Nick up and down. “We should get you a tuxedo.”

“Is the party that fancy?” Nick asks.

“Not really,” Jay says, “but I think it would bother Tom more.”

Nick shrugs. “Let’s do it, then.”

 

Nick looks so amazing in a tuxedo that Jay’s beginning to regret this particular decision.

“Jay,” Nick says, fiddling with his bowtie and leaving it in worse shape than it was before. “I can’t do this.”

“Here,” Jay says, undoing the knot and starting over from the beginning.

“Thanks,” Nicks says, sighing. “I used to be able to do it, but then I had hooves for two years in a row. My fine motor skills aren’t quite what they used to be.”

“I’m sure it’ll come back,” Jay says, tugging at the ends of the bowtie and then straightening it. He pats Nick on the chest. “You look great. Let’s go.”

 

They get to the party on time, which naturally means that Tom isn’t there yet.

“Do you want to mingle?” Jay asks Nick, waving down a waiter and grabbing two glasses of Champagne and handing one to Nick.

“Not really,” Nick says, accepting the glass. He doesn’t drink from it, holding it to his side instead. “These aren’t really my people.”

“Thought you might want some breathing room, you’ve been cooped up with me for the past month,” Jay says with a laugh.

“I’d hardly say I was cooped up, considering the size of your mansion and all,” Nick says. “Sometimes I think there might have even been too much space. It’s been a long time since I’ve y’know been around people, and I enjoy your company. Make of that what you will.”

“Glad to hear you haven’t tired of me yet,” Jay replies, taking a sip of his drink.

Nick barks out a laugh, a small smile forming on his face.

“What’s so funny, Old Sport?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Nick says but doesn’t do anything to hide his grin.

A hush falls around the room as the door opens and Tom struts inside.

“Let’s go greet him,” Jay says, patting Nick on the back to herd him out of the corner of the room.

Tom slowly makes the rounds, giving Jay and Nick plenty of time to see if their efforts have had any effect.

Tom does, if anything, look a little more harrowed. His hair is thinning, though this isn’t particularly unusual for a man his age. The rings under his eyes are definitely a little darker, and Jay thinks he might see Tom’s jaw twitching. Excellent.

Tom’s definitely lost a bit of his already meager social ability as well. Jay can feel the poorly hidden annoyance on a fairly solid number of the people that Tom’s talking to.

When Tom finally gets to Jay and Nick his jaw nearly drops to the floor.

“Y-you!” he exclaims, he points a shaking finger at Jay and then at Nick. His eyes catch on Nick and his tuxedo as if it was meant as a personal insult. “You shouldn’t—”

“Tom!” Jay says cordially. “I’d say that it’s nice to see you again, but you know it really isn’t. I should probably introduce you to my friend, Nick.”

“I’d be careful what you say aloud, Mr. Buchanan,” Nick says with what’s probably the most predatory smile Jay’s ever seen. He tries to imagine what it might look like on a horse and almost bursts out laughing.

“You can’t do this to me,” Tom nearly yells, but he seems to remember where they are, and his voice drops down to a furious whisper.

“Any why not?” Nick replies, his voice low and dangerous. “You imprisoned me for two years, and all Jay did was let me go. If anything, you should be happy that we can’t really do more to get back at you.”

Tom scoffs, but then his brows furrow in confusion. “Wait. So you’re trying to tell me that you’re not responsible for any of the other stuff?”

“What other stuff?” Nick asks. “If you’d even think I’d go anywhere near your mansion again, you’re dead wrong.”

For a few beautiful seconds, Tom looks both furious and deeply confounded. His mouth opens and closes like a fish until Nick hands Tom his champagne glass.

“I think you need this more than me,” Nick says.

Tom takes the glass, offers Nick one final glare, and stomps off.

“Mission success?” Nick asks once Tom is mostly out of earshot.

“I’d say,” Jay breathes. “The part where you denied all of our shenanigans? That was inspired.”

“Well,” Nick says, “thank you for making this all possible.” He pulls Jay into a warm hug. Jay sets his champagne glass down on a table so he can hug him back.

For all intents and purposes, Operation Reverse Trojan has been a major success.

 

They leave the party shortly after that, not having much of a reason to stick around afterward. They stumble into Jay's mansion, laughing loudly, their arms wrapped around each other's waists.

"I've never seen him so flabbergasted!" Nick grins. "And I've had to see a lot of him over the past two years."

“Moments like that deserve to be captured on film,” Jay wheezes. “It’s pure comedy.”

“Honestly, I’d pay to see it again,” Nick says, sighing contentedly. “You know, I was kind of skeptical about the whole tuxedo thing, but that tiny, extra bit of irritation? One hundred percent worth it.”

“I told you,” Jay replies, nudging Nick toward the entryway bar. They don’t separate.

“You know what probably really bothered him?” Nick asks. “Dressed up all fancy in clothes you obviously bought for me. It really made it clear that I was no longer his. That I'm yours now.”

“I don’t—”

“I kind of like it though,” Nick says but then makes a face. “Not in the horse kind of way, just to be clear.”

“Yeah?” Jay snorts.

“Yeah,” Nick says, laughing lightly. “In the other way, you know?” He smiles and crowds a little closer, cupping Jay’s face in his hands. “Tell me that I'm not reading this wrong,” he says, his breath hot against Jay’s lips. "Tell me that you want this."

Jay remembers briefly that he had other plans once, but they all seem inconsequential when compared to this. Life without Nick was...gray.

“God, yes,” Jay whispers.

He sees a few seconds of pure joy on Nick’s face before Nick’s smashing their lips together.

Jay hasn't had many kisses in his life, but this one blows the others away by far. The soft slide of Nick's lips against his own is almost intoxicating.

"You know what?" Jay says when they finally separate. "I bet this would really piss off Tom if he knew."

Nick snorts, burying his face in Jay's shoulder until the laughter subsides.


“I think you should learn how to ride,” Nick says.

“Ride...?” Jay mashes his cornflakes down into the milk. They’re nowhere near soggy enough.

“I mean, I can turn into a horse. It’s kind of an unavoidable part of who I am, and, like, I don’t mind being ridden,” Nick says, shrugging. He puts a heaping spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth and chews briefly before swallowing. “I’m a little averse to saddles still after the whole Tom thing, but it’s fine without it. What’s that called?” He gestures vaguely with his spoon in Jay’s direction. “Oh, right, bareback riding.”

“Wouldn’t I just fall off?” Jay asks.

Nick’s eyes flick down to Jay’s chest and back up again. “No, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“If you think it’s necessary, I’ll go along with it,” Jay sighs.

“Great,” Nick says and slurps down the rest of his oatmeal. He reaches across the table to pat Jay on the shoulder. “Put something more outdoorsy on and meet me out back.”

Jay looks down at his button-up. This wasn’t really how he had expected to spend his morning, but anything with Nick was good enough my default.

 

Nick’s standing by a log fence, still in human form when Jay gets outside.

“Use the fence to climb up onto my back,” Nick shouts when Jay’s in hearing range. “I’ll do my best to stay steady, so just make sure that you don’t kick or push me a lot, even on accident.”

“Right,” Jay replies, and Nick turns into a horse with a poof.

It’s not actually too difficult. The fence is perfect for climbing, and Nick doesn’t sway an inch when Jay has to lean all his weight on him to get onto his back.

Nick starts off slow, giving Jay time to adjust and to figure out how to sit. Jay wishes they could talk like normal, but Nick’s still extra communicative for a horse. Chuffs are no, whinnies yes. It doesn’t take them long to get up to a pretty steady trot.

Nick takes them to the front of the mansion. It’s strange, but being up on Nick’s back makes the view seem a little posher somehow, like maybe his mansion could fit in with the others in the East Egg after all. Maybe he really should have invested in stables.

The sound of a car engine and tires slowing on asphalt draws Jay’s attention to his driveway.

Nick’s head twists back a little so he can make eye contact with Jay, and he blinks questioningly.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone,” Jay says. “Were you?”

Nick chuffs.

They trot closer to the car. It looks familiar, but Jay can’t quite put his finger on it.

The driver’s side door flings open, and Tom jumps out of the car, shaking a fist in the air. “You may have had me trapped at the party,” he yells, “but here, the only laws of the land are these dukes!” He punches his open palm for effect.

“Get off my property, Buchanan,” Jay says as calmly as possible.

“Not until you give me my fucking horse back,” Tom yells. He marches right up to them. “And stop lying about all the other shit. I know it was you two.”

Jay’s patience snaps. “Nick is a fucking person.”

“Do you think I care?”

Nick spins abruptly, and Jay has to hold on tight to Nick’s neck to avoid being thrown off. The next thing he knows is that he’s tilting forward and that he can hear a loud cry of pain behind him.

Nick clomps his feet and chuffs before turning back around. Tom is lying on the ground several feet away, unconscious.

Shakily, Jay slides off Nick’s back. “Did you just rear kick him?” he asks.

Nick whinnies.

“Nice,” Jay says, patting him on his flank.

Nick whinnies again and trots a few steps away. In a poof of white smoke, he’s back in human form.

“God, that felt good,” Nick says, admiring how dead Tom looks. If only. “Want to frame him for murder?”

“What?”

“We don’t have to, but I think it’s only fair,” Nick shrugs.

“No, let's do it,” Jay says. “What should I do?”

“You have a pistol, right?”

Jay nods.

“Go get it. I’ll call an ambulance.”

 

“He just came out of nowhere,” Jay explains to the paramedics. “I thought he was going to kill me, but luckily my horse got to him first.”

“Your horse?” one of the paramedics asks.

“Yeah,” Jay says, patting Nick on the side. Nick, for his part, is doing a solid impression of a detached and uninterested horse. “He’s such a good horse, isn’t he? He saved my life.”

“And your horse did what?”

“Kicked him,” Jay explains. “I’m so glad he managed to knock Tom unconscious. Tom’s assaulted me before, and I was afraid that this might be it for me this time.”

“Well,” the paramedic says, “I’ve had to treat victims of temperamental horses before. I’m just happy the result was a little more positive this time.”

They finish loading Tom into the ambulance and then take off.

Once they’re gone, Nick turns back into a human.

“That went well,” he comments. “So, operation complete, do you think?”

Jay shrugs.

“Yeah,” Nick says, grinning. “Who are we kidding.”


“So,” Nick says over coffee the next morning. The weather’s great, so they’re sitting outdoors. “How do you feel about a round two of riding lessons? I promise Tom won’t interrupt us this time.”

“So soon?” Jay asks.

“It was nice to stretch my legs again,” Nick reasons, “and it was going really well until Tom showed up.”

“I can’t really argue with reasoning like that,” Jay says.

"Come on, cowboy," Nick says. He sets his cup down and, in a poof of white smoke, turns into a horse.

"Uh," says Jay. "Yeehaw?"

Notes:

i defend my characterization of nick entirely on the basis that i'd probably be like that too if someone forced me to be a horse for two years straight.