First Line Challenge, by Greensilver
May. 22nd, 2007 12:57 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
trelkez.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ds_flashfictionTitle: On Home, and Beef Jerky
Author: Greensilver
Challenge: First Line
Length: 5,064
Notes: Lightly implied Fraser/Vecchio. Beware of wolf vomit.
Based on a first line from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
slidellra's Cognitive Dissonance: "Off! Off! Off!"
That was the last time Dief would obey anything Benton said.
---
On Home, and Beef Jerky
---
"Off! Off! Off!"
As if the shouting alone hadn't been insulting enough, Ray grabbed Diefenbaker's paws and pushed them away from him, forcing Dief to drop back onto all fours. A few high-pitched yips let Ray know exactly how highly Dief thought of all that; it was a good thing Dief was more civilized than Ray, or those yips might've been nips, instead.
Benton didn't so much as look up from the conversation he was having with Louis, which showed just how highly he regarded Ray's display, too.
Ray swiped his hands down his chest, cleaning imaginary Dief-dirt off his clothes. "Womble whaa, Dief," he said, his head turned just far enough to the side that Dief couldn't read the words. "Whop dog."
Luckily for Ray, Huey chose that moment to unwrap his lunch.
Give me your sandwich give me your sandwich give me gimme gimme, Dief said, keeping his pleading whines low enough for indoors; no sense in aggravating Welsh. He bounded over to Huey's desk, sat back on his haunches, and stared up at Huey, waiting for Huey to hand over his ham on rye. Huey played dumb, going so far as to take a tiny bite off one corner; Dief just barely managed to silence his outrage before another whine or two would've escaped. If Huey was going to play dumb, whining alone wouldn't do; Dief had to sweeten the pot.
Reluctantly, ever so reluctantly, he wagged his tail – just once, short and quick; barely a wag at all, really.
Huey beamed at him, then over at Louis' desk. "Whop whop whaa, Fraser," Huey said, and leaned down to scratch Dief's ears as he finally – finally – surrendered the ham on rye.
Dief endured the petting for the few seconds that politeness demanded, and then scrambled off to hide in the kneehole under Elaine's desk before Huey could reconsider.
This was quite possibly Huey's best sandwich yet. The bread had crunchy seeds that cracked pleasantly between Dief's back teeth – very good bread, Benton never got bread like this – and there was some kind of spicy mustard on top of the ham. The spicy mustard was bound to upset his stomach later, but it was delicious, so his stomach would just have to endure. He ate both pieces of bread and all of the ham in two gulps, and after a moment of careful consideration, he ate the tomato, too; he usually couldn't be bothered with vegetables, but even the tomato was tasty today, crispy and fresh and smeared with a little of that mustard.
He sprawled out on the floor, as much as he could sprawl out under the desk. Good sandwich; good nap to follow; this was shaping up to be an excellent afternoon.
Benton appeared at the opening of the kneehole before Dief could so much as fall asleep.
"Diefenbaker," Benton said, enunciating a little more than was strictly necessary. "Come on, we're going."
That was ridiculous. They couldn't go anywhere now; wasn't it obvious that Dief had just started his nap?
Benton gave him an absolutely withering glare. "I was unaware that your advanced age required rest in the afternoon, but if that's the case—"
Dief thumped his tail, just once; that was about as much attitude as he could really get away with, all things considered.
"Then get up, and let's go." Benton stood, and started to back away; Dief was just about to follow him when Benton swooped back down, blocking Dief's exit. "And clean up after yourself, would you?"
Now, that was just offensive. The lettuce was a snack for Elaine; he'd even left a few broad licks of mustard on it, which even Benton had to admit was particularly generous.
Benton smiled, and it was the nice kind of smile that was all in his hands and his shoulders and his forehead, not the highly unfortunate kind where he tried to bare his teeth. "I don't think that's a gift she'll particularly enjoy, if you don’t mind my saying so."
Oh, well. Elaine's loss; it'd been very tasty mustard.
"Oh, indeed?" Benton eyed the lettuce, possibly considering giving it a try himself. "I'll pass that along to Detective Huey."
Then he was off, his steady, even tread quickly lost in the ceaseless foot-patter of human traffic.
Dief snapped the lettuce up in his jaws, crawled out from under Elaine's desk, and spat the lettuce out in her trashcan.
"Dief!" Elaine's yell was loud enough to get through to even the deafest of wolves, which, admittedly, Diefenbaker was not. "Whop whaa womble vomit, Dief!"
He most certainly had not, and it was incredibly rude of her to suggest that he had.
See if he left her a present next time Huey packed a sandwich.
---
By the time they got to Ray's car, the mustard was wreaking havoc on Dief's stomach.
"Well, that serves you right for confiscating Detective Huey's sandwich in the first place," Benton said, with a scolding set to his shoulders that made Dief want to nip him.
Ray looked at Dief in the rearview mirror. "Yeah, and if they'd meant for wolves to have sandwiches, they wouldn’t have wolf-sick-making stuff on them, would they? There's a reason kibbles don't come on rye, is what I'm saying."
Dief could happily have nipped Ray, too, just to let him know how highly Dief regarded Ray's opinion on proper wolf nutrition.
His stomach flopped unpleasantly when Ray took the car over a bump in the road, and then there was another bump in the road, and another—
Someone pave this street, Dief griped, stretching out on the back seat. Benton, Ray pays taxes, make him pave the street.
"It doesn't quite work like that," Benton said.
Ray glanced at Benton, then into the rearview mirror. "Oh. What doesn't work like what?"
"Diefenbaker has lately taken an interest in civics." Benton cleared his throat and stroked a thumb across his forehead, both actions painfully transparent signs that he was embarrassed. "He requests that you, as a taxpayer, repave the street."
Ray leaned forward, far enough that only his smiling forehead was visible in the rearview mirror. "Whaa, whop weet?"
"Yes, Ray, this exact street."
"Whaa, Dief. Womble woppit." Ray parked the car, putting a blissful end to the bump-bump-bump of the road. When the sick-making forward chug of the car stopped, Ray stared at Dief in the rearview mirror, smiling with his eyebrows and his forehead. "Also, Fraser? The wolf did not call me a taxpayer."
Benton smiled at Dief, too. "He said it himself, Ray—"
"Whatever, Fraser."
Benton and Ray both turned to get out of the car, and their conversation became a distant exchange of whop whop weeble whaa Fraser, whop whaa Ray.
Almost as an afterthought, Benton leaned into the window. "Stay in the car, Dief," he said, his five favorite words to over-enunciate. "We'll only be a few minutes."
Dief automatically translated that to, make sure you're back in the car in a couple minutes, so no one will ever know you were gone.
He waited until Ray and Benton were out of sight, and stood up on the back seat to prepare for a flying leap onto the passenger seat and out the window.
His stomach growled a warning.
He tensed to leap anyway, and then he was in the air – oh no, oh no, my stomach, my stomach—
He didn't even try to return to the back seat; he just curled up on Benton's side of the car, rested his head on the door, and whined a little, to make himself feel better.
The passenger seat held the one packet of Benton-smell inside the car's sea of Ray-smell, which was cozy, warmth within warmth, like a pool of sunlight in a heated cabin. The seat was, in short, an ideal place for a sick wolf to take a nap, and Dief was deep in a dream about an elusive Arctic hare when Ray's door swung open, jostling Dief awake.
Ray grabbed the radio clipped above his seat and spat syllables into it, too fast for Dief to make out even the vaguest shapes of sounds. The only words he understood were the easy ones, Elaine and Vecchio and Fraser and right now, the kinds of words Dief never had trouble picking out.
Dief was up on all fours in a flash, ignoring the ominous rumble of his stomach.
"Dief, no," Ray shouted, two more easy words; Dief pretended he hadn't heard, and sailed out the window. Benton's scent was easy enough to track, and Dief flew down an alley and back out onto a street without pause, half-aware of Ray's increasingly distant footfalls chasing after him.
In the second alley, Benton's scent trail picked up the sharp tang of fresh blood – not Benton's, but blood, just the same – and Dief somehow managed an extra burst of speed.
He caught up with Benton in the third alley, just in time to see Benton slam a man with a weapon into a woven metal fence. Benton grabbed the man's weapon hand and beat it against the fence until the weapon dropped, bouncing and rattling on the ground.
The man's body language was all wrong for someone who'd just been captured, but Benton didn't seem to notice. He kicked the weapon out of range and relaxed, so subtly that only a wolf could've picked out the change in his posture.
Dief barked out a warning, too late. Benton didn't even have time to turn to look at Dief; shiny metal flashed in the man's hand, and Benton went crashing to the ground.
He could tell even from a distance that Benton was still alive and breathing, so when he got to the end of the alley, Dief didn't stop; he just sailed over the fence, his paws eating up the distance between his teeth and the man who'd hurt Benton.
---
There was only one way out of the alley. Fortunately for the man, Ray was blocking that way out, and he saw Dief before the man even realized Dief was on his heels. Ray grabbed the man and swung him hard against the hood of a nearby parked car, just barely getting the man out of the way before Dief's jaws would've closed around the man's pant leg, and maybe more.
"Fraser," Ray called, looking back down the alley, maybe waiting for Benton to show up. "Fraser?"
If Dief wasn't going to get to bite the man, there was no point in hanging around. He didn't wait for Ray to follow him, just backtracked along his own scent trail until he was at the fence and up, up over it.
Even the sourest alley smells were overpowered by the scent of Benton's blood. There was hot, stinky blood everywhere, and when Benton reached up to grasp a handful of Dief's fur, he left broad wet streaks everywhere his fingers touched.
"Diefenbaker," he said, his grip tightening until Dief yelped in pain. "Diefenbaker, go – go get Ray—"
But there was no need; Huey and Louis were pounding down the adjoining alley, and as soon as they turned the corner, they'd see. Dief could feel their footsteps in the ground, quick and hard enough to tell him that they knew Benton was hurt, or at least, that they knew the situation was urgent.
He added his voice to the vibration-noise of their footsteps, letting out a few sharp barks to guide them to Benton, faster, faster, hurry, hurry—
Benton's grip on Dief's fur slackened for just a moment, and then tightened again, yanking Dief's head back down to look at him.
"Dief, if I—" Over-enunciating again, but Dief would let it pass— "If anything – you have to go with Ray, do you understand?" Benton's grip softened a little, and his fingers almost scratched Dief's ear. "Ray will get you home."
His fingers slid away from Dief's fur and hit the ground, the soft vibration of their impact swallowed entirely by the chaos of Huey and Louis' arrival.
---
Dief knew what an ambulance was; Benton had explained the concept to him quite carefully the first time Ray had been taken away in one. No one was stealing Ray, Benton had assured him. They were helping Ray, taking him to the hospital – and of course Dief had known what one of those was; he wasn't stupid.
Still, when Benton disappeared into the back of the ambulance, everything Dief knew about the helping nature of ambulances vanished under the weight of a frightened certainty that those men were taking Benton away, and that once that happened, Dief would never see him again.
He tensed to jump.
Ray wrapped both arms around Dief's neck, keeping his paws pinned to the ground. "No, Dief," he said, just barely managing to restrain Dief as the ambulance doors swung shut. "No."
A loud, wobbling sound flared up, scaring Dief half to death; it was like the siren Ray put on his car sometimes, only different, a piercing whop-whop-whaa, whop-whop-whaa that made Dief want to howl. The ambulance slid away into traffic, and Dief nearly bit Ray in his haste to be off, chasing after Benton.
Ray just tightened his hold, and slung a leg over Dief's back for good measure. That was altogether insulting, and reminded Dief a little bit too much of the kids in his apartment building who occasionally tried to ride him like a pony.
He hoped Benton never, ever had kids.
He had to get to Benton.
Benton had told him to go with Ray, and Ray had said no to chasing the ambulance – but Dief certainly wasn't in the habit of listening to Benton or Ray, and this seemed like the least likely time to make an exception to that rule.
He wrestled free, ignoring the urge to chomp on Ray in the process, and then he was off and flying down the road.
The siren was too distant for Dief to hear, but he could feel the peculiar way the noise beat at the air, could feel its motion-distorted whop-whop-whaa over all of the other sounds: the other cars blaring their horns as they swerved to avoid him, people shouting at him from their windows, and in the distance, further and further away with each heartbeat, Ray's voice yelling unintelligible words, Ray's footfalls chasing after him.
Dief didn't get further than two blocks before his stomach betrayed him, tightening into a fiery knot of pain. He had just enough advanced warning to stumble off the road and onto the sidewalk, and then his stomach emptied onto the cement, forcing out Huey's sandwich and Louis' donut and Welsh's bag of chips and everything else Dief had consumed that day.
He instantly felt better, much better, almost entirely not sick; capable of resuming his pursuit of the ambulance, definitely. The ambulance was gone, so distant that he couldn't so much as feel the siren disturbing the air anymore, and there were too many cars speeding down the road for even his nose to track just one – but if he headed in the direction the ambulance had gone, he might find the trail again, or even find another ambulance that would lead him to the hospital Benton was going to.
He tensed to leap back into traffic.
His stomach flip-flopped, threatening to empty again, even if it could only empty out air and juices.
A partially eaten tortoise could reach Benton faster than Dief could.
He sat back on his haunches and howled out his frustration and fear and failure, and the sound guided Ray to him; a very brief time later, Ray's hand dropped down onto Dief's head, and then Ray was crouching down next to him, carefully avoiding the puddle of Dief's regurgitated meals.
"Yeah, I know, Dief," Ray said, his fingers picking at a spot on Dief's ruff where Benton's blood was making Dief's fur stick together in clumps. "But you know how Benny hates it when you chase cars, and if you get hit or something, then I'll have two of you to – oh, hell, just get in the car, would you?"
Dief licked Ray's face, leaving a broad, wet stripe behind from chin to eyebrow.
"That's disgusting," Ray said, his mouth forming both words quite distinctly, even though his body language was a peculiar mix of sad and grateful. He rubbed Dief's head again; this time, he was careful to avoid all of the places Benton's fingers had touched. "Come on."
---
Ray patted Benton's seat, clearly expecting Dief to ride up front. Dief wanted to; the seat still smelled like Benton – good, healthy Benton smells, not like the sharp, wild blood smells from the alley – and it would be comforting to lie there, just as he had earlier.
If he did that, though, his own scents would overpower Benton's, and the car wouldn't smell like Benton anymore. Hoarding a smell was an idea that Dief wasn't too familiar with himself, but he'd seen Benton do it often enough; Benton had hoarded Victoria-smells, and Ray-smells, and sometimes he even sniffed the pages of his father's journal. For once, Dief understood the urge. The fear that Benton wasn't coming back made him want to hoard all the Benton-smells there were, and the car was a good place to start.
Dief hopped into the backseat, same as always, and curled up in his usual spot, right where he could watch Ray in the mirror.
"It'll be okay, Dief," Ray was saying, the womble-woppit of his voice low and soothing. "If it'd been real bad, I would've hopped in there with him and let you chase your heart out – no offense, but I – Christ." He shook his head, obscuring his next few words. "…Is, I would've been in there anyway, except he was all, 'Watch the wolf, Ray, don't let him bite anyone, don't let him in the ambulance, don't let him play in traffic–' I mean, Jesus, the guy's bleeding everywhere and it's Dief this and Dief that," and his voice was louder now, so that Dief's ears could pick out a few words, mostly Dief and wolf and bite. "I'm surprised he didn't tell me what brand of kibbles you take and the number of your vet besides—"
The car lurched to a halt, and Ray pressed his forehead to the steering wheel.
Ray didn't seem to realize they'd arrived at the hospital, so Dief let out a sharp bark, trying to get Ray's attention.
Ray said something incomprehensible in a tone that didn't sound very friendly, but he sat up anyway. "Yeah, yeah, okay."
When he got out of the car, though, he didn't hold the door open for Dief to get out. Instead, he slammed the door shut behind him, tapped a hand against the window, and mouthed, sorry.
Dief didn't realize what was happening until Ray started walking away from the car, until he leapt over the seat and scrabbled his paws against the front windows; closed, all of them. He was trapped. Ray had trapped him.
Ray ignored Dief's howls, this time. He just kept walking, and disappeared into the building. Dief howled until he couldn't anymore, until he could only manage frantic, shuddering whines, and still Ray didn't come, no one came, and Dief was alone, alone and trapped.
He wanted to growl and snarl and snap, but there was no one to bite. He wanted to exact some revenge on Ray, and Ray's car seats with their tantalizing cowhide smell were right there for the chewing, but that would only make Benton angry, really angry. He wanted to escape, but short of eating his way through the metal doors, there was no way out.
Dief's only option was to wait for someone to rescue him.
He was going to give Ray the biting of his life when Ray got back.
---
Go with Ray, Benton had said.
That was the last time Dief would obey anything Benton said.
Of course, there were worse places to live than Ray's house, which felt more like a pack den than a typical human dwelling. Ray's mother definitely ran that pack, and Dief was pretty sure he'd rank relatively high, given how much she fussed over him when he and Benton visited, and how much care she took to cool her food before sneaking it to him. Living with Ray would also mean living with Francesca, who knew exactly how he liked to have his ears scratched, and was quite possibly the best-smelling human female he'd ever encountered, besides.
None of that was what Benton had intended, though; that much was clear. Ray will get you home, Benton had said, and Dief knew what that meant. If Benton died, Ray would take Dief back north, because that was what Benton thought of as Dief's home.
Dief, being wiser and, in wolf years, older than Benton, knew better.
Benton was Dief's home. Benton defined the boundaries of Dief's home wherever he went just by living and breathing in a certain space, the way a pack defined the boundaries of its territory simply by existing there.
---
"Diefenbaker!"
He hadn't even heard Huey and Louis coming, but there they were; Ray's keys were in Louis' hand, shining in the day's last rays of sunlight.
That was promising. Maybe they were going to take him to Benton. He'd always liked Huey and Louis, and not just because a friendly tail-wag was enough to get either of them to part with a meal – he should've known they would've come to rescue him.
Louis opened the door a crack. "Backseat, wolf. Backseat."
Huey squinted at Dief through the window. "Do you think he understands what you're saying? I thought he was deaf."
"Fraser told me he'd understand if I enunciated," Louis said, and made a gesture next to his ear. "Backseat, Dief! Jeez, this dog does not listen—"
Dief leapt against the door, successfully catching Louis unawares. The door swung open, making Louis and Huey tumble one after the other, and Dief made a break for it.
His stomach wasn't slowing him down any more, and the hospital doors were the kind that opened on approach; he was inside the hospital before the people stationed outside could do more than yell.
Unfortunately, he ran straight into Ray, unable to stop his forward momentum before he crashed into Ray's legs.
Ray looped an arm around Dief's neck and grabbed a handful of his ruff, and that was dangerous, more dangerous than Ray knew; this time, Dief really was going to bite him.
Oblivious to the danger, Ray wrapped his other hand around Dief's snout, pulling Dief's head down to look him in the eyes.
"Yeah, I figured," Ray said, and let go, before Dief could get out a warning growl. "Can't even get those two to take a dog – wolf, whatever – for a ride without screwing it up somehow."
Ray stood up a little, still firmly grasping Dief's ruff with enough strength to keep Dief from bolting, and said, "Police dog—"
"Womble woppit," yelled a foul-smelling woman brandishing a flat, rectangular weapon of some sort. "Womble dog woppit right now—"
Dief jerked his head to the side, trying to free himself from Ray's grasp – but Ray anticipated the move, and his grip only tightened. He leaned back down, over-enunciating as badly as Benton ever did.
"What are you gonna do, huh? Hope someone gives you a ride in the elevator?"
Well, it was a thought.
"Out," Ray said, and released his hold on Dief's fur. "Out, Dief."
"Whaa," the woman shrieked, waving her weapon at him.
He made a point of waving his tail as he ran out the door, just so she could see it wasn't tucked between his legs.
---
Ray's head had been hidden in his hands for a long, long time, so long that Dief wasn't entirely sure Ray wasn't sleeping. Ray didn't smell like he was sleeping, but he mostly just smelled foul, which made it difficult to tell.
Dief was pretty sure that foul was just how hospitals smelled.
Ray shifted a little, which Dief hoped was a prelude to more significant movement; Dief's stomach was starting to rumble, and he wasn't going anywhere, which meant it was left to Ray to feed them both. That was rather like trusting the pack omega to fall a deer, but Benton, Ray and the woman with the weapon hadn't left Dief many other options.
Just like with Huey, he'd have to sweeten the pot; only this time, a tail-wag wouldn't do.
He rested his head on Ray's knee, and whined.
Ray looked up, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I've been sitting on this here curb for hours dogsitting, and you're going to whine about it?"
That wasn't fair; as curbs went, theirs was perfectly nice – clean, round, relatively odorless.
"I'm not gonna feed you, if that's what you're asking." Ray stuck his hands under his armpits, which was some of the most definitive body language Dief had seen on him all day. "Second I get up to find you food, you're gonna bolt through those doors and I'll only ever get back into this hospital under an assumed name, so that noisy stomach of yours is gonna have to wait, got it?"
That was even more unfair, given that Dief had promised to be on his best behavior.
Well, okay, so maybe he hadn't promised, but he'd licked Ray's hands once or twice, and that was as good as.
A pair of particularly scuffed shoes came into view; Louis. Maybe he'd brought a meal.
"Womble, Ray," Louis said, and sat down on the curb next to Dief, grimacing and tugging on his pant legs. "You sure he won't wait in the car, or something?"
Ray gave Louis the same sort of exasperated look that Benton often gave him. "You wanna try and make him, go for it. Ask me, you should hedge your bets and sit tight."
"Hey, it's not my fault he made a break for it," Louis said, and folded his arms, almost copying Ray's posture.
"Whatever you say, Gardino." Ray stood, taking him out of Dief's line of sight; the rest of the conversation was unintelligible, and no important words popped out at him, not Fraser or wolf or even food.
When Ray left, Louis tapped Dief on the head to get his attention, leaned in a little, and yelled, "If you break for the door, I'll shoot you, got it?"
That would've been a lot more convincing if Dief had smelled a gun on him.
---
He dozed off during the night, sprawled out next to Ray with his head on the relative comfort of Ray's leg. Ray, Huey, Louis, and one of the hospital cops were making enough noise to keep a dead wolf awake, much less a more-than-slightly deaf one, but Dief had had a long day, and the nap crept up on him.
When he awoke, Ray's foul hospital smell was gone, replaced by the mingling smells of beef jerky and Francesca.
"You awake?" Francesca smiled at him, eyebrows and forehead and mouth and all, even when he tried to stick his nose in her pockets to sniff out the beef jerky. Nothing in her pockets; nothing in her hands; maybe she didn't have any beef jerky with her. Humans put on smells like fruits and vegetables sometimes; maybe Francesca was wearing meat-smells now. "I've got a surprise for you."
Beef jerky? Was that the surprise?
A rush of smell came from the open hospital door: that foul overlying odor, the metallic smell of blood, an entire herd of unwashed humans, Ray, and Benton.
Francesca grabbed a handful of Dief's ruff, restraining him just like Ray had the night before – only, this time, Dief could see Benton, and Francesca didn't have nearly as strong a grip as Ray did, besides.
"No jumping," Benton said, putting a palm out to stop Dief before Dief could launch himself onto Benton's chair. "No, Diefenbaker."
He sat back on his haunches immediately, temporarily forgetting his earlier promise to not obey Benton under any circumstances.
Benton shifted awkwardly, reaching a hand over the arm of his chair to scratch Dief's ears, lightly tugging on the little tufts of fur there like he had when Dief was still nearly a pup.
"It's going to be all right, Diefenbaker," he said, his voice so low that Dief couldn't make out any of the vibrations behind the words, not even with Benton's hand touching him directly. "You can go home now."
Thanks, Dief said, licking Benton's hands from fingertip to wrist, but I'd rather stay down here. Food's better – and easier. I don't have to catch it, down here. Last night, Ray and Huey caught it for me.
Benton smiled all over. "Just to the Vecchios' house, Dief. Only for the weekend, until I'm discharged."
Ray leaned into view, over the back of Benton's chair. "Officially discharged, he means. None of this self check-out stuff."
Well, maybe. Just for the weekend. And only if Mrs. Vecchio made lasagna, and didn't tell Benton about it afterward.
Benton gave Dief's right ear one more scratch, and then he leaned back in his chair, which seemed to be Ray's signal to turn the chair back toward the hospital. "Jeez, Benny," Ray said, just before he turned them around, "that is one high-maintenance—"
Dief waited until Ray and Benton were inside the hospital, out of sight, before turning back to Francesca and sticking his nose in her pockets again. There had to be beef jerky in there somewhere, he knew it.
"You looking for this?" She pulled a small, clear bag out from inside her jacket, and dangled it in front of his nose. Beef jerky. There was beef jerky in that bag. "Nuh-uh. I know all about your antics – I'm in the know. No jerky for you until we get in the car, mister."
He danced alongside her all the way to the car, whining and yipping and wagging his tail as fast as he could; less important matters like Benton, hospitals, and home were, for the moment, forgotten.
Author: Greensilver
Challenge: First Line
Length: 5,064
Notes: Lightly implied Fraser/Vecchio. Beware of wolf vomit.
Based on a first line from
slidellra's Cognitive Dissonance: "Off! Off! Off!"That was the last time Dief would obey anything Benton said.
---
On Home, and Beef Jerky
---
"Off! Off! Off!"
As if the shouting alone hadn't been insulting enough, Ray grabbed Diefenbaker's paws and pushed them away from him, forcing Dief to drop back onto all fours. A few high-pitched yips let Ray know exactly how highly Dief thought of all that; it was a good thing Dief was more civilized than Ray, or those yips might've been nips, instead.
Benton didn't so much as look up from the conversation he was having with Louis, which showed just how highly he regarded Ray's display, too.
Ray swiped his hands down his chest, cleaning imaginary Dief-dirt off his clothes. "Womble whaa, Dief," he said, his head turned just far enough to the side that Dief couldn't read the words. "Whop dog."
Luckily for Ray, Huey chose that moment to unwrap his lunch.
Give me your sandwich give me your sandwich give me gimme gimme, Dief said, keeping his pleading whines low enough for indoors; no sense in aggravating Welsh. He bounded over to Huey's desk, sat back on his haunches, and stared up at Huey, waiting for Huey to hand over his ham on rye. Huey played dumb, going so far as to take a tiny bite off one corner; Dief just barely managed to silence his outrage before another whine or two would've escaped. If Huey was going to play dumb, whining alone wouldn't do; Dief had to sweeten the pot.
Reluctantly, ever so reluctantly, he wagged his tail – just once, short and quick; barely a wag at all, really.
Huey beamed at him, then over at Louis' desk. "Whop whop whaa, Fraser," Huey said, and leaned down to scratch Dief's ears as he finally – finally – surrendered the ham on rye.
Dief endured the petting for the few seconds that politeness demanded, and then scrambled off to hide in the kneehole under Elaine's desk before Huey could reconsider.
This was quite possibly Huey's best sandwich yet. The bread had crunchy seeds that cracked pleasantly between Dief's back teeth – very good bread, Benton never got bread like this – and there was some kind of spicy mustard on top of the ham. The spicy mustard was bound to upset his stomach later, but it was delicious, so his stomach would just have to endure. He ate both pieces of bread and all of the ham in two gulps, and after a moment of careful consideration, he ate the tomato, too; he usually couldn't be bothered with vegetables, but even the tomato was tasty today, crispy and fresh and smeared with a little of that mustard.
He sprawled out on the floor, as much as he could sprawl out under the desk. Good sandwich; good nap to follow; this was shaping up to be an excellent afternoon.
Benton appeared at the opening of the kneehole before Dief could so much as fall asleep.
"Diefenbaker," Benton said, enunciating a little more than was strictly necessary. "Come on, we're going."
That was ridiculous. They couldn't go anywhere now; wasn't it obvious that Dief had just started his nap?
Benton gave him an absolutely withering glare. "I was unaware that your advanced age required rest in the afternoon, but if that's the case—"
Dief thumped his tail, just once; that was about as much attitude as he could really get away with, all things considered.
"Then get up, and let's go." Benton stood, and started to back away; Dief was just about to follow him when Benton swooped back down, blocking Dief's exit. "And clean up after yourself, would you?"
Now, that was just offensive. The lettuce was a snack for Elaine; he'd even left a few broad licks of mustard on it, which even Benton had to admit was particularly generous.
Benton smiled, and it was the nice kind of smile that was all in his hands and his shoulders and his forehead, not the highly unfortunate kind where he tried to bare his teeth. "I don't think that's a gift she'll particularly enjoy, if you don’t mind my saying so."
Oh, well. Elaine's loss; it'd been very tasty mustard.
"Oh, indeed?" Benton eyed the lettuce, possibly considering giving it a try himself. "I'll pass that along to Detective Huey."
Then he was off, his steady, even tread quickly lost in the ceaseless foot-patter of human traffic.
Dief snapped the lettuce up in his jaws, crawled out from under Elaine's desk, and spat the lettuce out in her trashcan.
"Dief!" Elaine's yell was loud enough to get through to even the deafest of wolves, which, admittedly, Diefenbaker was not. "Whop whaa womble vomit, Dief!"
He most certainly had not, and it was incredibly rude of her to suggest that he had.
See if he left her a present next time Huey packed a sandwich.
---
By the time they got to Ray's car, the mustard was wreaking havoc on Dief's stomach.
"Well, that serves you right for confiscating Detective Huey's sandwich in the first place," Benton said, with a scolding set to his shoulders that made Dief want to nip him.
Ray looked at Dief in the rearview mirror. "Yeah, and if they'd meant for wolves to have sandwiches, they wouldn’t have wolf-sick-making stuff on them, would they? There's a reason kibbles don't come on rye, is what I'm saying."
Dief could happily have nipped Ray, too, just to let him know how highly Dief regarded Ray's opinion on proper wolf nutrition.
His stomach flopped unpleasantly when Ray took the car over a bump in the road, and then there was another bump in the road, and another—
Someone pave this street, Dief griped, stretching out on the back seat. Benton, Ray pays taxes, make him pave the street.
"It doesn't quite work like that," Benton said.
Ray glanced at Benton, then into the rearview mirror. "Oh. What doesn't work like what?"
"Diefenbaker has lately taken an interest in civics." Benton cleared his throat and stroked a thumb across his forehead, both actions painfully transparent signs that he was embarrassed. "He requests that you, as a taxpayer, repave the street."
Ray leaned forward, far enough that only his smiling forehead was visible in the rearview mirror. "Whaa, whop weet?"
"Yes, Ray, this exact street."
"Whaa, Dief. Womble woppit." Ray parked the car, putting a blissful end to the bump-bump-bump of the road. When the sick-making forward chug of the car stopped, Ray stared at Dief in the rearview mirror, smiling with his eyebrows and his forehead. "Also, Fraser? The wolf did not call me a taxpayer."
Benton smiled at Dief, too. "He said it himself, Ray—"
"Whatever, Fraser."
Benton and Ray both turned to get out of the car, and their conversation became a distant exchange of whop whop weeble whaa Fraser, whop whaa Ray.
Almost as an afterthought, Benton leaned into the window. "Stay in the car, Dief," he said, his five favorite words to over-enunciate. "We'll only be a few minutes."
Dief automatically translated that to, make sure you're back in the car in a couple minutes, so no one will ever know you were gone.
He waited until Ray and Benton were out of sight, and stood up on the back seat to prepare for a flying leap onto the passenger seat and out the window.
His stomach growled a warning.
He tensed to leap anyway, and then he was in the air – oh no, oh no, my stomach, my stomach—
He didn't even try to return to the back seat; he just curled up on Benton's side of the car, rested his head on the door, and whined a little, to make himself feel better.
The passenger seat held the one packet of Benton-smell inside the car's sea of Ray-smell, which was cozy, warmth within warmth, like a pool of sunlight in a heated cabin. The seat was, in short, an ideal place for a sick wolf to take a nap, and Dief was deep in a dream about an elusive Arctic hare when Ray's door swung open, jostling Dief awake.
Ray grabbed the radio clipped above his seat and spat syllables into it, too fast for Dief to make out even the vaguest shapes of sounds. The only words he understood were the easy ones, Elaine and Vecchio and Fraser and right now, the kinds of words Dief never had trouble picking out.
Dief was up on all fours in a flash, ignoring the ominous rumble of his stomach.
"Dief, no," Ray shouted, two more easy words; Dief pretended he hadn't heard, and sailed out the window. Benton's scent was easy enough to track, and Dief flew down an alley and back out onto a street without pause, half-aware of Ray's increasingly distant footfalls chasing after him.
In the second alley, Benton's scent trail picked up the sharp tang of fresh blood – not Benton's, but blood, just the same – and Dief somehow managed an extra burst of speed.
He caught up with Benton in the third alley, just in time to see Benton slam a man with a weapon into a woven metal fence. Benton grabbed the man's weapon hand and beat it against the fence until the weapon dropped, bouncing and rattling on the ground.
The man's body language was all wrong for someone who'd just been captured, but Benton didn't seem to notice. He kicked the weapon out of range and relaxed, so subtly that only a wolf could've picked out the change in his posture.
Dief barked out a warning, too late. Benton didn't even have time to turn to look at Dief; shiny metal flashed in the man's hand, and Benton went crashing to the ground.
He could tell even from a distance that Benton was still alive and breathing, so when he got to the end of the alley, Dief didn't stop; he just sailed over the fence, his paws eating up the distance between his teeth and the man who'd hurt Benton.
---
There was only one way out of the alley. Fortunately for the man, Ray was blocking that way out, and he saw Dief before the man even realized Dief was on his heels. Ray grabbed the man and swung him hard against the hood of a nearby parked car, just barely getting the man out of the way before Dief's jaws would've closed around the man's pant leg, and maybe more.
"Fraser," Ray called, looking back down the alley, maybe waiting for Benton to show up. "Fraser?"
If Dief wasn't going to get to bite the man, there was no point in hanging around. He didn't wait for Ray to follow him, just backtracked along his own scent trail until he was at the fence and up, up over it.
Even the sourest alley smells were overpowered by the scent of Benton's blood. There was hot, stinky blood everywhere, and when Benton reached up to grasp a handful of Dief's fur, he left broad wet streaks everywhere his fingers touched.
"Diefenbaker," he said, his grip tightening until Dief yelped in pain. "Diefenbaker, go – go get Ray—"
But there was no need; Huey and Louis were pounding down the adjoining alley, and as soon as they turned the corner, they'd see. Dief could feel their footsteps in the ground, quick and hard enough to tell him that they knew Benton was hurt, or at least, that they knew the situation was urgent.
He added his voice to the vibration-noise of their footsteps, letting out a few sharp barks to guide them to Benton, faster, faster, hurry, hurry—
Benton's grip on Dief's fur slackened for just a moment, and then tightened again, yanking Dief's head back down to look at him.
"Dief, if I—" Over-enunciating again, but Dief would let it pass— "If anything – you have to go with Ray, do you understand?" Benton's grip softened a little, and his fingers almost scratched Dief's ear. "Ray will get you home."
His fingers slid away from Dief's fur and hit the ground, the soft vibration of their impact swallowed entirely by the chaos of Huey and Louis' arrival.
---
Dief knew what an ambulance was; Benton had explained the concept to him quite carefully the first time Ray had been taken away in one. No one was stealing Ray, Benton had assured him. They were helping Ray, taking him to the hospital – and of course Dief had known what one of those was; he wasn't stupid.
Still, when Benton disappeared into the back of the ambulance, everything Dief knew about the helping nature of ambulances vanished under the weight of a frightened certainty that those men were taking Benton away, and that once that happened, Dief would never see him again.
He tensed to jump.
Ray wrapped both arms around Dief's neck, keeping his paws pinned to the ground. "No, Dief," he said, just barely managing to restrain Dief as the ambulance doors swung shut. "No."
A loud, wobbling sound flared up, scaring Dief half to death; it was like the siren Ray put on his car sometimes, only different, a piercing whop-whop-whaa, whop-whop-whaa that made Dief want to howl. The ambulance slid away into traffic, and Dief nearly bit Ray in his haste to be off, chasing after Benton.
Ray just tightened his hold, and slung a leg over Dief's back for good measure. That was altogether insulting, and reminded Dief a little bit too much of the kids in his apartment building who occasionally tried to ride him like a pony.
He hoped Benton never, ever had kids.
He had to get to Benton.
Benton had told him to go with Ray, and Ray had said no to chasing the ambulance – but Dief certainly wasn't in the habit of listening to Benton or Ray, and this seemed like the least likely time to make an exception to that rule.
He wrestled free, ignoring the urge to chomp on Ray in the process, and then he was off and flying down the road.
The siren was too distant for Dief to hear, but he could feel the peculiar way the noise beat at the air, could feel its motion-distorted whop-whop-whaa over all of the other sounds: the other cars blaring their horns as they swerved to avoid him, people shouting at him from their windows, and in the distance, further and further away with each heartbeat, Ray's voice yelling unintelligible words, Ray's footfalls chasing after him.
Dief didn't get further than two blocks before his stomach betrayed him, tightening into a fiery knot of pain. He had just enough advanced warning to stumble off the road and onto the sidewalk, and then his stomach emptied onto the cement, forcing out Huey's sandwich and Louis' donut and Welsh's bag of chips and everything else Dief had consumed that day.
He instantly felt better, much better, almost entirely not sick; capable of resuming his pursuit of the ambulance, definitely. The ambulance was gone, so distant that he couldn't so much as feel the siren disturbing the air anymore, and there were too many cars speeding down the road for even his nose to track just one – but if he headed in the direction the ambulance had gone, he might find the trail again, or even find another ambulance that would lead him to the hospital Benton was going to.
He tensed to leap back into traffic.
His stomach flip-flopped, threatening to empty again, even if it could only empty out air and juices.
A partially eaten tortoise could reach Benton faster than Dief could.
He sat back on his haunches and howled out his frustration and fear and failure, and the sound guided Ray to him; a very brief time later, Ray's hand dropped down onto Dief's head, and then Ray was crouching down next to him, carefully avoiding the puddle of Dief's regurgitated meals.
"Yeah, I know, Dief," Ray said, his fingers picking at a spot on Dief's ruff where Benton's blood was making Dief's fur stick together in clumps. "But you know how Benny hates it when you chase cars, and if you get hit or something, then I'll have two of you to – oh, hell, just get in the car, would you?"
Dief licked Ray's face, leaving a broad, wet stripe behind from chin to eyebrow.
"That's disgusting," Ray said, his mouth forming both words quite distinctly, even though his body language was a peculiar mix of sad and grateful. He rubbed Dief's head again; this time, he was careful to avoid all of the places Benton's fingers had touched. "Come on."
---
Ray patted Benton's seat, clearly expecting Dief to ride up front. Dief wanted to; the seat still smelled like Benton – good, healthy Benton smells, not like the sharp, wild blood smells from the alley – and it would be comforting to lie there, just as he had earlier.
If he did that, though, his own scents would overpower Benton's, and the car wouldn't smell like Benton anymore. Hoarding a smell was an idea that Dief wasn't too familiar with himself, but he'd seen Benton do it often enough; Benton had hoarded Victoria-smells, and Ray-smells, and sometimes he even sniffed the pages of his father's journal. For once, Dief understood the urge. The fear that Benton wasn't coming back made him want to hoard all the Benton-smells there were, and the car was a good place to start.
Dief hopped into the backseat, same as always, and curled up in his usual spot, right where he could watch Ray in the mirror.
"It'll be okay, Dief," Ray was saying, the womble-woppit of his voice low and soothing. "If it'd been real bad, I would've hopped in there with him and let you chase your heart out – no offense, but I – Christ." He shook his head, obscuring his next few words. "…Is, I would've been in there anyway, except he was all, 'Watch the wolf, Ray, don't let him bite anyone, don't let him in the ambulance, don't let him play in traffic–' I mean, Jesus, the guy's bleeding everywhere and it's Dief this and Dief that," and his voice was louder now, so that Dief's ears could pick out a few words, mostly Dief and wolf and bite. "I'm surprised he didn't tell me what brand of kibbles you take and the number of your vet besides—"
The car lurched to a halt, and Ray pressed his forehead to the steering wheel.
Ray didn't seem to realize they'd arrived at the hospital, so Dief let out a sharp bark, trying to get Ray's attention.
Ray said something incomprehensible in a tone that didn't sound very friendly, but he sat up anyway. "Yeah, yeah, okay."
When he got out of the car, though, he didn't hold the door open for Dief to get out. Instead, he slammed the door shut behind him, tapped a hand against the window, and mouthed, sorry.
Dief didn't realize what was happening until Ray started walking away from the car, until he leapt over the seat and scrabbled his paws against the front windows; closed, all of them. He was trapped. Ray had trapped him.
Ray ignored Dief's howls, this time. He just kept walking, and disappeared into the building. Dief howled until he couldn't anymore, until he could only manage frantic, shuddering whines, and still Ray didn't come, no one came, and Dief was alone, alone and trapped.
He wanted to growl and snarl and snap, but there was no one to bite. He wanted to exact some revenge on Ray, and Ray's car seats with their tantalizing cowhide smell were right there for the chewing, but that would only make Benton angry, really angry. He wanted to escape, but short of eating his way through the metal doors, there was no way out.
Dief's only option was to wait for someone to rescue him.
He was going to give Ray the biting of his life when Ray got back.
---
Go with Ray, Benton had said.
That was the last time Dief would obey anything Benton said.
Of course, there were worse places to live than Ray's house, which felt more like a pack den than a typical human dwelling. Ray's mother definitely ran that pack, and Dief was pretty sure he'd rank relatively high, given how much she fussed over him when he and Benton visited, and how much care she took to cool her food before sneaking it to him. Living with Ray would also mean living with Francesca, who knew exactly how he liked to have his ears scratched, and was quite possibly the best-smelling human female he'd ever encountered, besides.
None of that was what Benton had intended, though; that much was clear. Ray will get you home, Benton had said, and Dief knew what that meant. If Benton died, Ray would take Dief back north, because that was what Benton thought of as Dief's home.
Dief, being wiser and, in wolf years, older than Benton, knew better.
Benton was Dief's home. Benton defined the boundaries of Dief's home wherever he went just by living and breathing in a certain space, the way a pack defined the boundaries of its territory simply by existing there.
---
"Diefenbaker!"
He hadn't even heard Huey and Louis coming, but there they were; Ray's keys were in Louis' hand, shining in the day's last rays of sunlight.
That was promising. Maybe they were going to take him to Benton. He'd always liked Huey and Louis, and not just because a friendly tail-wag was enough to get either of them to part with a meal – he should've known they would've come to rescue him.
Louis opened the door a crack. "Backseat, wolf. Backseat."
Huey squinted at Dief through the window. "Do you think he understands what you're saying? I thought he was deaf."
"Fraser told me he'd understand if I enunciated," Louis said, and made a gesture next to his ear. "Backseat, Dief! Jeez, this dog does not listen—"
Dief leapt against the door, successfully catching Louis unawares. The door swung open, making Louis and Huey tumble one after the other, and Dief made a break for it.
His stomach wasn't slowing him down any more, and the hospital doors were the kind that opened on approach; he was inside the hospital before the people stationed outside could do more than yell.
Unfortunately, he ran straight into Ray, unable to stop his forward momentum before he crashed into Ray's legs.
Ray looped an arm around Dief's neck and grabbed a handful of his ruff, and that was dangerous, more dangerous than Ray knew; this time, Dief really was going to bite him.
Oblivious to the danger, Ray wrapped his other hand around Dief's snout, pulling Dief's head down to look him in the eyes.
"Yeah, I figured," Ray said, and let go, before Dief could get out a warning growl. "Can't even get those two to take a dog – wolf, whatever – for a ride without screwing it up somehow."
Ray stood up a little, still firmly grasping Dief's ruff with enough strength to keep Dief from bolting, and said, "Police dog—"
"Womble woppit," yelled a foul-smelling woman brandishing a flat, rectangular weapon of some sort. "Womble dog woppit right now—"
Dief jerked his head to the side, trying to free himself from Ray's grasp – but Ray anticipated the move, and his grip only tightened. He leaned back down, over-enunciating as badly as Benton ever did.
"What are you gonna do, huh? Hope someone gives you a ride in the elevator?"
Well, it was a thought.
"Out," Ray said, and released his hold on Dief's fur. "Out, Dief."
"Whaa," the woman shrieked, waving her weapon at him.
He made a point of waving his tail as he ran out the door, just so she could see it wasn't tucked between his legs.
---
Ray's head had been hidden in his hands for a long, long time, so long that Dief wasn't entirely sure Ray wasn't sleeping. Ray didn't smell like he was sleeping, but he mostly just smelled foul, which made it difficult to tell.
Dief was pretty sure that foul was just how hospitals smelled.
Ray shifted a little, which Dief hoped was a prelude to more significant movement; Dief's stomach was starting to rumble, and he wasn't going anywhere, which meant it was left to Ray to feed them both. That was rather like trusting the pack omega to fall a deer, but Benton, Ray and the woman with the weapon hadn't left Dief many other options.
Just like with Huey, he'd have to sweeten the pot; only this time, a tail-wag wouldn't do.
He rested his head on Ray's knee, and whined.
Ray looked up, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I've been sitting on this here curb for hours dogsitting, and you're going to whine about it?"
That wasn't fair; as curbs went, theirs was perfectly nice – clean, round, relatively odorless.
"I'm not gonna feed you, if that's what you're asking." Ray stuck his hands under his armpits, which was some of the most definitive body language Dief had seen on him all day. "Second I get up to find you food, you're gonna bolt through those doors and I'll only ever get back into this hospital under an assumed name, so that noisy stomach of yours is gonna have to wait, got it?"
That was even more unfair, given that Dief had promised to be on his best behavior.
Well, okay, so maybe he hadn't promised, but he'd licked Ray's hands once or twice, and that was as good as.
A pair of particularly scuffed shoes came into view; Louis. Maybe he'd brought a meal.
"Womble, Ray," Louis said, and sat down on the curb next to Dief, grimacing and tugging on his pant legs. "You sure he won't wait in the car, or something?"
Ray gave Louis the same sort of exasperated look that Benton often gave him. "You wanna try and make him, go for it. Ask me, you should hedge your bets and sit tight."
"Hey, it's not my fault he made a break for it," Louis said, and folded his arms, almost copying Ray's posture.
"Whatever you say, Gardino." Ray stood, taking him out of Dief's line of sight; the rest of the conversation was unintelligible, and no important words popped out at him, not Fraser or wolf or even food.
When Ray left, Louis tapped Dief on the head to get his attention, leaned in a little, and yelled, "If you break for the door, I'll shoot you, got it?"
That would've been a lot more convincing if Dief had smelled a gun on him.
---
He dozed off during the night, sprawled out next to Ray with his head on the relative comfort of Ray's leg. Ray, Huey, Louis, and one of the hospital cops were making enough noise to keep a dead wolf awake, much less a more-than-slightly deaf one, but Dief had had a long day, and the nap crept up on him.
When he awoke, Ray's foul hospital smell was gone, replaced by the mingling smells of beef jerky and Francesca.
"You awake?" Francesca smiled at him, eyebrows and forehead and mouth and all, even when he tried to stick his nose in her pockets to sniff out the beef jerky. Nothing in her pockets; nothing in her hands; maybe she didn't have any beef jerky with her. Humans put on smells like fruits and vegetables sometimes; maybe Francesca was wearing meat-smells now. "I've got a surprise for you."
Beef jerky? Was that the surprise?
A rush of smell came from the open hospital door: that foul overlying odor, the metallic smell of blood, an entire herd of unwashed humans, Ray, and Benton.
Francesca grabbed a handful of Dief's ruff, restraining him just like Ray had the night before – only, this time, Dief could see Benton, and Francesca didn't have nearly as strong a grip as Ray did, besides.
"No jumping," Benton said, putting a palm out to stop Dief before Dief could launch himself onto Benton's chair. "No, Diefenbaker."
He sat back on his haunches immediately, temporarily forgetting his earlier promise to not obey Benton under any circumstances.
Benton shifted awkwardly, reaching a hand over the arm of his chair to scratch Dief's ears, lightly tugging on the little tufts of fur there like he had when Dief was still nearly a pup.
"It's going to be all right, Diefenbaker," he said, his voice so low that Dief couldn't make out any of the vibrations behind the words, not even with Benton's hand touching him directly. "You can go home now."
Thanks, Dief said, licking Benton's hands from fingertip to wrist, but I'd rather stay down here. Food's better – and easier. I don't have to catch it, down here. Last night, Ray and Huey caught it for me.
Benton smiled all over. "Just to the Vecchios' house, Dief. Only for the weekend, until I'm discharged."
Ray leaned into view, over the back of Benton's chair. "Officially discharged, he means. None of this self check-out stuff."
Well, maybe. Just for the weekend. And only if Mrs. Vecchio made lasagna, and didn't tell Benton about it afterward.
Benton gave Dief's right ear one more scratch, and then he leaned back in his chair, which seemed to be Ray's signal to turn the chair back toward the hospital. "Jeez, Benny," Ray said, just before he turned them around, "that is one high-maintenance—"
Dief waited until Ray and Benton were inside the hospital, out of sight, before turning back to Francesca and sticking his nose in her pockets again. There had to be beef jerky in there somewhere, he knew it.
"You looking for this?" She pulled a small, clear bag out from inside her jacket, and dangled it in front of his nose. Beef jerky. There was beef jerky in that bag. "Nuh-uh. I know all about your antics – I'm in the know. No jerky for you until we get in the car, mister."
He danced alongside her all the way to the car, whining and yipping and wagging his tail as fast as he could; less important matters like Benton, hospitals, and home were, for the moment, forgotten.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}