DISCLAIMER: They're not mine, I just traumatise them, splatter them with chocolate and let the Denizens do the rest...
TITLE: Brains, Brawn, Beauty and Rumsfeld.
SUMMARY: If one brother is good, two as a team must be even better. 'Double the fun', as the Doublemint twins said, right? For a given definition of 'fun'. The word 'idjit' will be used, oh yes... what became of Patch's puppies, after 'Best of Breed'. The story picks up a couple of months after the end of 'Best of Breed'.
RATING: T (Until such time as Dean Winchester is reincarnated as a Puritan).
BLAME: The blame for this one lies with the Denizens, Visitors, Lurkers and Casual Droppers-In who wanted to know what happened to Patch's puppies at the end of 'Best of Breed'. The story picks up a couple of months after that, when Patch's litter is nine weeks old. I know what happened to them, but I wasn't keen to write it, because, well, you'll see.
Prologue
Denariel, Guardian of Companions, sighed.
She loved her assignment. She did. She was probably one of the lowest ranked angels in the Host, but she didn't care. She regarded it as a privilege and a pleasure to act as caretaker to the souls of beloved companion animals while they waited for their humans to collect them. Companion animals were, in her opinion, some of her Father's most wonderful creations. She loved them all. Every single one.
Even Miss Molly, the ferret, who smelled sort of... intense. And Alphonse, the skunk, who thought he was a cat. And also smelled quite... pungent. Even Madame Belle de la Fluff, the Persian cat who was wont to go missing, and would inevitably turn up sitting on Father's throne. (Amondiel, one of the Seraphim, had taken quite a liking to Madame Belle, and would usually sneak her back before notification through official channels arrived in the form of a curt Memo from Danael in Reception). Yes, she even loved the ones she thought of, in particularly trying moments, as the 'high maintentance souls'...
She was having one of those moments right now.
Jimi the Hellhound had been a big, happy, boisterous boy from the day he'd arrived. Fra Francis of Assisi was cheerfully tireless in his efforts to keep the dog out of mischief, but from time to time, Jimi would find hi-jinks to get up to. For instance, the unfortunate incident in which he turned up chewing on a large, ornate hammer. That had resulted in one of Danael's disapproving Minutes, emphasising the importance of Denariel keeping control of her charges, and maintaining good relations between pantheons, and finished with a demand for a report. (Actually, Thor had been very good about it; he was apparently a dog person, because he'd ruffled Jimi's ears, and laughed. He'd also slapped Denariel's bottom and invited her to share a tankard with him sometime, but she had politely declined).
Then one of Jimi's half-Hellhound whelps had turned up, Joni, and she had turned out to be another handful. Only sneakier. When she'd found Joni and her sire using Osiris's staff as a tug toy, the elder Egyptian god had been distinctly displeased. (Osiris was more of a cat person – he had in fact offered to adopt Madame Belle, on the grounds that she was probably a reincarnated Egyptian goddess. Madame Belle had certainly agreed with is opinion.) The Minute from Reception had been quite abrupt – Danael had had to deploy her most charming and diplomatic efforts to smooth ruffled feathers, and had insisted that Denariel write a scroll of profuse apology.
She was working on that apology when a messenger cherub arrived with the paperwork for her latest arrivals. She pushed the parchment aside, and took the heap of files, flicking through them.
A name caught her eye, and she could not prevent herself from letting out a groan. She sighed, then chastised herself, put on her most welcoming smile, and went to meet her most recently arrived charges.
He sat, front and centre, grinning at her. In death, his muzzle was no longer grey, and his eyes danced and sparkled happily. He was the spitting image of his father, if somewhat larger.
And he wore a string of human skulls around his neck.
"Oh, Father," she sighed, "Give me strength..."
By the time Denariel completed her inductions, the culprit was having a wonderful game of tug-of-war with his sire and his litter-sister, using the purloined skulls. She called Fra Francis, begging his assistance, then retrieved the illicit toy, and sent the dogs on their way to play Fetch with Francis's halo.
She spent some time after that finishing her letter to Osiris, and writing a report to Reception. Then, deciding that she might as well as get a head start on the next matter, she took a fresh piece of parchment, and began her next apology.
To:
The Mother of Darkness, Destroyer and Redeemer of the Universe,
Most Venerated Kali-Ma, Honoured Feminine Aspect of Lord Shiva,
Please accept my most profound and sincere apologies for the recent theft by one of my charges of your girdle of skulls. I have inspected it, and believe it to be undamaged. I will of course arrange to meet any and all costs associated with any required cleaning...