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Snorkel's Favorite

Summary:

A sunny afternoon on Nineball Island gives Océane the perfect chance to play with Snorkel—fetch, belly rubs, and naps in the sand. But when GG tries to win the dog’s affection, Snorkel wants nothing to do with him. Sometimes, the funniest moments come not from treasure in the sea, but from a golden labrador who knows exactly where he belongs.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

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(Oceana's POV)

The sun was fierce on Nineball today, its light bouncing off the white sands and turning the sea into a sheet of glass. Work could wait—no surveys, no clients, no coordinates to follow. For once, Jean-Eric wasn't scolding me to check the gear, and Caleb was out diving near Manta Rock. That left me with the island, the breeze, and one very eager golden labrador.

 

"Ready, Snorkel?" I asked, holding up a piece of driftwood like a sword.

 

He barked, tail wagging so hard his whole body wiggled. His paws danced in the sand, eyes locked on the stick in my hand as though it were the most important treasure in the world.

 

I grinned and hurled it down the beach. It spun end over end before thudding into the sand near the waterline. Snorkel bolted after it, ears flying back, legs kicking up plumes of white sand. For a moment I thought he might tumble head over tail, but he skidded to a halt with all four paws braced, triumphant.

 

He trotted back, panting hard, stick clamped between his teeth. I reached down to take it, but he jerked his head to the side, eyes gleaming.

 

"Oh, so that's how it is?" I laughed, tugging at the driftwood. "You're stubborn, aren't you?"

 

We wrestled a bit, me pulling, him growling in mock ferocity, tail wagging furiously all the while. Finally, with a dramatic flourish, I let go. Snorkel tumbled backward into the sand, then popped up again, victorious, chest puffed out.

 

"You win this round," I said, brushing hair out of my face.

 

He barked again, circling me like he'd caught the world's biggest prize. I flopped down on the sand, the heat seeping through my shorts, and he instantly collapsed beside me, tongue lolling, paws stretched long.

 

For a while, we just lay there, watching the waves slide up the beach and retreat again, their rhythm steady and endless. The palms rustled behind us, the smell of salt and sun filling the air.

 

"You like it here, don't you?" I asked quietly, stroking his ears. "Better than that little sandbar. You've got space to run. People who care."

 

He rolled onto his back, paws in the air, and I laughed until my stomach hurt. "Fine, fine, I'll rub your belly. Spoiled already."

 

That was when footsteps crunched down the path behind us. GG swaggered onto the beach, jewelry clinking, grin wide. "Well, well! So this is the famous Snorkel, huh? Let ol' GG show you how it's done."

 

I sat up, already smothering a smile as he bent down, scooping up the driftwood. "Hey boy! Over here! Look at this fine piece of bling!" He waved the stick like it was gold.

 

Snorkel blinked at him. Then yawned, rolled over, and promptly put his head back in my lap.

 

"Aw, come on!" GG tried again, crouching low and patting the sand. "C'mon, Snorkel! Fetch! I got treasure!" He tossed the driftwood a few feet away, then crouched expectantly.

 

Snorkel didn't move. His tail flicked once, but otherwise he just sighed, very pointedly, and shut his eyes.

 

I burst out laughing. Caleb, who had just returned from his dive, mask still dripping around his neck, nearly fell over. "Oh man," he said between chuckles, "GG just got rejected!"

 

GG's grin faltered. "Rejected? Naw, he's just… contemplatin'. He's a smart dog, see? Knows bling when he sees it. He's just pacing himself."

 

But when Snorkel let out a little snore against my knees, I couldn't hold it in. I laughed so hard I toppled sideways, and Caleb laughed even louder.

 

GG scowled, though the sparkle in his earrings caught the sun as he straightened up. "Fine. Fine! If the dog don't want driftwood, GG's got better."

 

He dug into his pockets, producing a sandwich wrapped in foil. "Now this—this is prime bait, baby. Turkey and cheese. No dog alive can resist it."

 

He knelt down again, waving it under Snorkel's nose. "C'mon, man. Don't play hard to get."

 

Snorkel sniffed once, stretched… and rolled over so his back faced GG completely.

 

"WHAT?!" GG's voice cracked, and Caleb doubled over, wheezing with laughter. "Even the sandwich? Bro, even my bling sandwich got no love!"

 

But GG wasn't done. He pulled out a shiny coin he'd been polishing earlier. "Okay, okay, new plan. Dogs like shiny. Check this, Snorkel—solid gold!" He held it up dramatically, sunlight flashing.

 

Snorkel didn't budge. His ear twitched once, then he pressed closer against my side with a sigh, as if to say, this is where I belong.

 

That was it—I was gone. Caleb fell onto the sand beside us, clutching his stomach, both of us laughing so hard we could barely breathe.

 

GG planted his fists on his hips, looking betrayed. "Man, even the dog's got no respect. Y'all are cold."

 

"Don't take it personally," I said, still chuckling as I scratched Snorkel's ears. "Maybe he just knows who the real treasure is."

 

Snorkel wagged his tail in agreement, and Caleb gave me a conspiratorial grin. GG groaned dramatically, trudging back toward the veranda as if carrying the weight of the world.

 

I leaned back in the sand, feeling Snorkel's warmth against me, and thought again how much brighter Nineball Island felt with him here. Even when he ignored GG, he somehow made us all laugh a little harder, and life on the island felt just a little more like home.

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Notes:

Hello, everyone! It's been a VERY long time, I know! I'll try to get back into things soon. So here's a little something to keep you going. Hope you enjoy it.

The Player Character here, my OC, is named Caleb Corbin. I'll do a character profile on him eventually.

Thank you for your patience.

Stay Calm and Happy Swimming!

— L&L Diving Service