I'm super late with these Nawn Appreciation submissions, but the other two oneshots I wrote turned out all angsty and still won't cooperate when I try to finish writing the endings.
Anyway, because I personally think Nawn works beautifully in Disney AUs, here's a little 101 Dalmatians fluff.
He was especially proud of Rochester. Despite the fact that his attention span could be completely derailed by the prospect of food, a flaw that Noah had long since forgiven as a fault of his breed, Rochester was a good boy.
He sat when Noah told him to sit, even if there was a chance someone might have given him something extra to eat. He walked beside his master and didn't pull on the leash, even if he saw a squirrel or a dropped ice cream cone. And he rolled over and shook a paw and even heeled when asked.
Rochester was a very good boy.
And so, Noah and Rochester were most often accompanied by whatever novel Noah was in the midst of reading as they made their way through the park, Rochester's leash looped loosely around Noah's wrist. Rochester was a good and well-behaved boy, which allowed Noah to get in some extra reading time when he went for walks with his favourite companion.
They'd been walking the same route on their daily walks for so long that Noah could have done it in his sleep.
But as an unknown black and white spotted creature dashed past beneath the pages of his book, Noah didn't even have time to frown before Rochester's own leash was suddenly pulled taught. His reflexes seeming to become exceedingly slow, the book flew out of his hands as he struggled to keep a grasp on Rochester's leash.
And as his book his the pathway with a soft thud, Noah found himself face to face with a young woman with long pale blonde hair, who was gesturing desperately with her hands.
"Wonderful." Noah said drily observing the green and blue tangle of dog leashes essentially binding him to the girl in the oversized sweater. "Rochester, sit. Sit."
And like a good boy, Rochester sat. The stranger's dog, however, did not.
"Oh dear, I'm so sorry." The girl said, setting them both stumbling as her own dog gave another sharp tug on its' leash, which was wrapped around the backs of her knees. The other dog whined, looking at Rochester with its tail wagging sociably.
He frowned at her. "Mind calling off your dog?"
"I'm trying," The girl said, glancing down at her hands, which were still gesturing desperately, despite the fact that her elbows had been pinned to her body by both leashes.
A second tug from the dalmatian sent them sprawling into the creek.
His frown deepening, both dogs plunged into the water after them, tails wagging as though they both thought their masters were splashing around in some sort of game.
"I'm so sorry," She said, running a hand through soaking blonde hair to push it out of her eyes.
Dripping wet from head to toe and still partially tangled in nylon, Noah frowned. "Does she not know 'sit'?"
"She does and she's very good at it." the girl told him. "But she's deaf and she can't follow commands if she's not looking at me to see that I'm making them."
Well, that explained the frantic hand gestures, he thought as he sat up and leaned toward to free his legs from the fabric still wrapped around both of their calves.
"I'm really very sorry about all this," She said. "Scout's usually such a good girl."
He shrugged off her apology as they got to their feet and set to work untangling their leashes and getting their soggy, muddy dogs out of the creek. Irritable and soaked, all he wanted to do was go home and find some dry clothes, not stand around with wet shoes and talk to the girl whose dog had put him in the creek.
Pushing the dripping sleeves of her oversized sweater up to her elbows, she gave a sheepish grin. "I'm Dawn."
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Noah."
And it was that moment that Rochester bumped his leg, looking exceedingly pleased with himself. Reaching down, his soggy golden retriever gave him an even soggier book.
"Of course." He said, his shoulders slumping in a way that seemed to ask what else could possibly go wrong.
"Well at least – Rochester, was it? – retrieves." Dawn commented. "Evidently, Scout isn't very good at spotting things."
And for a beat, he just looked at her.
"That was probably the worst joke I've ever heard."
She held out her hands and looked down, gesturing to the fact that she was soaked and partially covered in mud from the creek, and with that, she began to laugh. Clapping her hands over her mouth as though to stifle it, she simply couldn't contain it. And despite how irritated he was at the entire situation, somehow he found himself laughing as well.
Just in case anyone was wondering about my headcanon of Dawn having a Dalmatian, as Scout is deaf, she'd be considered extremely undesirable by official Dalmatian breed standards, so even if she was purebred, she'd still probably stand a great chance of having ended up as a rescue dog.
As always, if you've got a moment, please review!