Olivia slammed her hands down on the table, sick of arguing with both Peter and Walter. The table shuddered under the blow, and a rack of test tubes tipped over and shattered, tiny shards of glass cutting into her hand. The liquid that sprayed out stung like hell when it hit her skin.

"Dammit!"

Walter was moving towards her, holding out a bottle of water. "Wash it off, Olivia. Now!"

The room spun, just briefly before she felt herself falling.

Olivia scrambled to push herself upright, but her hands slipped against the floor. Peter was yelling her name, his voice loud, echoing off the walls of the lab. She got her arms under her for a moment, and the movement was awkward, then her hands slid again, nails unable to find any grip on the smooth floor. Claws, her mind supplied. Those were claws, not nails, and that was stupid. It wasn't right.

Peter was getting closer, still yelling, and she wished he would just shut up. She was growling, and that wasn't right either, but it did make him stop yelling. His voice dropped low, trying to be soothing, but she could hear the fear behind it. She could smell the fear behind it. It prickled along her nerves, and she lifted her eyes to him, and she could see the fear, too. She got her legs under her and stood, eyes on her prey, and lopped forward a few uneven steps before a stinging pain at her back made her yelp and whirl around.

She snapped at her shoulder, trying to bite at where pain flared, and lost her balance. She was dizzy, and her legs slipped on the floor again. Peter was coming closer, kneeling in front of her, and she tried to lift her head to bite his hand, but she couldn't. She was too heavy, too sleepy, and she let her eyes close to the darkness.

She was disoriented when she woke. Dizzy and nauseous, and she got the feeling that something was horribly wrong, but it passed after a moment. Her shoulder burned like a wasp had stung her and she was in a cage. She stood and wobbled a bit before she felt a little steadier on her feet.

She shook herself, and crashed into the side of the cage. Her mouth was dry and tasted terrible, and she lapped up water out of the little bowl near the bars of the cage. She could see the latch on the other side, but couldn't get her paw through the bars. She wanted out, though, out of the cage right fucking now, and pawed frantically at the bars.

"Hey. Hey, Olivia. It's okay."

Astrid knelt in front of the cage. She smelled warm and familiar, and Olivia stopped trying to get out for a moment. Astrid smiled and Olivia whined. Her tail thumped against the side of the cage rhythmically.

Peter walked up behind Astrid. "Hey. She's awake."

His scent wafted past Astrid, and it was familiar, too, but not at all comforting. He smelled confusing, like pack and prey rolled into one and she growled at him, baring her teeth.

"Whoa."

Astrid laughed nervously. "I don't think she likes you."

"How can she… Olivia, it's me."

He dropped to the floor in front of the cage. He was staring at her, eyes locked on hers, and it made her want to grab him by the throat and drag him to the ground. She kept her teeth bared, but wagged her tail cautiously. He held his hand against the bars of the cage, flat so she couldn't bite him. She sniffed his fingers, then licked, a whine rising in her throat. She pawed at the bars again until he let her out. He smelled like sorrow, and whispered, "Oh, god, Olivia. I'm so sorry."

Broyles was staring down at her, and his gaze made her uncomfortable, but she was pretty sure she didn't want to growl at him. She sat very still and whisked her tail back and forth and whined softly. Eventually he brought a hand up to rub at the bridge of his nose. He smelled like authority, like some kind of spicy food, and irritation. He finally looked away from her and she panted in relief.

"Can you fix this?"

Walter looked up from his work, and snapped at Broyles, who snapped back at him. She thought she should be interested in the exchange, but she wasn't really. She thought this should worry her, but Astrid was back with food. Olivia trotted after the delicious-smelling bags she was carrying and wagged her tail happily. Astrid also had a collar, and Olivia was less enthusiastic about that, and whined when Astrid fastened it around her neck.

"Sorry. Leash laws, you know." Astrid petted her head. "There. That's not so bad, is it?"

Olivia whined some more and tried to steal Astrid's sandwich.

Olivia was bored.

She had explored everywhere she was allowed to go, and a few places she wasn't, which resulted in lots of yelling. She'd found Peter's leather jacket, which smelled like him, and sweat, and food, and a million other things and she chewed it to tiny little bits. That also resulted in lots of yelling, and she'd growled back at him until Astrid started yelling, too.

She loped around the office, sticking her nose in behind cabinets and under shelves. She stayed away from Gene even though the scent was fantastic and made her mouth water. She stayed away from Walter because he smelled so sad and guilty. She stalked from one end of the lab, then back. Then again and again because she didn't know what else to do.

Astrid stepped in front of her and scratched behind her ears. "Peter. Take her to PetSmart, then take her home."

"I'm not taking her to PetSmart. She'll eat some old lady's Chihuahua."

Their voices were irritated, and it was directed at her and she just didn't know what she'd done wrong. Olivia sat on her haunches and howled.

"Peter, get her out of here. I'll stay here with Walter. You know he's not going to stop working until he figures out how to change her back."

"Fine." Peter pointed at her. "Do not eat any dogs. Or people."

He walked towards her holding a leash, and grabbed at her collar. She danced out of the way and trotted to the other end of the lab.

"Olivia. Come here."

She cocked her head at him.

He held his hand out and made little clicking noises with his tongue. "Come on."

She whined and backed away a few steps.

He sighed and dropped his shoulders, then stalked towards her.

She dropped into a play-bow and wagged her tail before darting to one side of him. He lunged at her and his hands slid along her sides. She turned and jumped at him, front paws landing squarely on his chest, knocking him over. She kept her paws on his chest as he went down, and stood on him, head tilted to the side as he glared up at her.

"Get off of me." His voice was breathless, but not really serious, so she sniffed at his neck and licked his skin experimentally. He pushed at her, and she growled. She was pleased that he went still immediately, and pressed her nose against his neck where his pulse fluttered under his skin. Then Astrid pulled her off of him by her collar and snapped the leash on to it.

"Leave him alone, Olivia. He's not food."

The pet store was huge and full of smells that made her want to run around and sniff everything. She stayed close to Peter, though, and tried to ignore the fucking leash. She did try to chew through it when she thought he wasn't looking.

They walked to an aisle that smelled like food, overwhelmingly like food and she bounced happily along the shelves. She paced back and forth a few times before sitting down and staring at one of the bags.

"Seriously? You can read? That's the most expensive stuff here."

She pawed at the bag.

"Fine. Anything else? Diamond studded collar maybe?"

She pulled at the leash and drug him down another aisle, sniffing through the bins until she found what she wanted.

"A bunny?"

She growled at him around the toy in her mouth.

"Alight, alright. You can have a bunny if you want."

The teenager at the checkout cooed over her, said she was a pretty doggy and Olivia was torn between being pleased and wanting to bite. She settled for ignoring the girl and wagging her tail a little while she chewed on her bunny toy.

The bunny toy lasted almost the entire ride home before one of the seams split and she shook fluffy bunny guts all over the inside of the station wagon.

The house was full of good smells, both inside and out. She'd sniffed around the overgrown yard and marked the bushes in her new territory until Peter tempted her into coming inside with food. His food smelled better than hers, but she was hungry, so she ate all the crunchy things in her bowl. He smelled sad when she did, and she whined in confusion.

She followed him around the house until he closed her out of one of the rooms. She made a circuit of the house, checking the doors and windows, sniffing under furniture. She found a pair of Peter's shoes under a sofa and considered chewing on them. She heard Peter walking around upstairs and let the shoe drop to the floor.

She stopped outside his room — his den — overwhelmed by the concentrated presence of him. This was his place, and no one else's, his scent strong on everything in the room. She could smell the sleep musk from his bed, the thick scent of sweat from a pile of clothing heaped against the door of his closet. She could smell the change of his mood like a time line, from recently worried to a burst of anger from days ago, contentment, hot arousal. The later was just his scent alone, but it still brought a growl to her throat, possessive and dangerous.

He looked up from where he was sprawled on the bed, reading. "Olivia?"

She scented fear now, worry, and it sparked her desire to chase. He was holding very still, and she could smell his adrenaline, hear the whispery sound of his slamming pulse.

She advanced slowly and stopped next to the bed. His fingers were damp with sweat when he held them out, but his hand was steady. She swiped her tongue over the tips of his fingers before ducking her head and pushing her nose into the palm of his hand.

He rested his fingers on the long bridge of her nose, then slid them up over the crown of her head. He stroked her lightly at first, then scratched his fingers into her thick fur. He petted her for a long time, found the spot behind her ear that felt so good and she waged her tail in appreciation.

Peter shifted, moving away before patting the bed beside him.

"Come on."

She tilted her head at him before climbing up on the bed. It was soft and difficult to walk on. She circled a few times, sniffing at the sheets that were warm from his body before lying down. Peter stretched out beside her, hand smoothing the fur over her shoulders and side. He smelled sad again, a sort of hopelessness that made her whimper in sympathy. She wiggled closer and licked his face. His cheeks tasted like salt.

Peter's phone woke them up when it was still dark out, and his voice went from sleepy grumbling to excitement quickly. She stood and stretched, then hopped off the bed. His excitement smelled good and made her happy, and she bounced around him as he pulled on jeans and shoes.

He rolled the windows down in the station wagon when the left the house. She liked the feel of the wind, and all the smells it brought rushing past her nose. They drove to a place that gave them food, and she tried to drink the hot, bitter-smelling stuff out of Peter's cup, but he wouldn't let her. That was okay, though. She didn't even bother growling at him to put him in his place.

When they got to the lab, Walter was holding a syringe and calling her name, and that sparked dim memories that made her whine and drop her tail between her legs. She backed away a few steps, until Peter grabbed her collar.

"Sorry, Olivia."

She froze, and only yelped a little when the needle sank into her shoulder. They all stared at her, and she scratched at the injection site with one of her back paws. It stung like hell, and made her mouth taste funny. She wanted a drink and took a couple steps towards the bowl of water on the other side of the lab before she stopped to scratch at her shoulder again. She over-balanced, and fell to her side, dizziness washing over her.

Olivia really, truly wished that this was the first time she'd woken up naked in the lab, wrapped in a blanket and Peter's arms, with no idea how she'd gotten there. Her throat was scratchy, and her right shoulder hurt like someone had stabbed her.

"Why the hell am I wearing a collar?"

Peter tightened his arms and kissed her forehead. "Long story."