Why We Don't Need another Pet
by Starsinger
Kitty ends up under the knife, without the same disastrous results of my last fic, and Peter decides she needs something to lick her face and make her feel better. So, did he have to go to Siberia to get it? Nope, still don't own these characters.
Lockheed awoke him, pushing him urgently. Peter woke up with a start as the little dragon looked at him, "Kitty's in trouble, she needs help."
Peter looked at him with a start, almost wishing Brand hadn't revealed that Lockheed could speak their language. Then the dragon's words penetrated his consciousness and he rolled over, Kitty was doubled over in pain, clutching at her stomach. She had also been very sick to her stomach and her forehead was very hot. He hit the intercom and got a hold of Hank.
Within minutes Hank had assessed the situation and directed Peter to take Kitty down to the infirmary. He directed Hisako to call an ambulance. In short order he had started an IV, gave Kitty something for the pain, and directed the EMTs downstairs to their patient. "I believe she has appendicitis," he told them as they assessed her and wheeled her out. Peter stood at the door, pacing. Hank slapped him on the shoulder, "Come on, I'll drive you."
When they got to the hospital, the doctor confirmed Hank's diagnosis, "She'll be fine. She's going into surgery within the hour." Despite the reassurance, Peter paced the waiting room.
Emma soon arrived with a change of clothes for Peter, and forced him to eat. "Peter, I know you don't want to hear this, but we need you to go out to Siberia."
Peter looked at her, "Why?"
Emma sighed, "That Soviet equivalent of Weapon X has reared its ugly head again. We need you to check it out." Peter rose to his feet and found himself numbly walking out the door.
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Kitty awoke, something was licking her face, and it probably wasn't Lockheed. She awoke slowly and woozily from the anesthesia and discovered a fox kit sitting on her chest. "What's this," she asked, half-coherently.
Peter looked gleefully at the present he had given her, "It's our new baby!"
Kitty looked up at him, warily, "Are you trying to tell me something?"
Peter's face blanched at the question, "Uh, no, not that. I just ended up on a mission to Siberia and they gave me this as a token of their appreciation. I thought that it would be fun…" he trailed off as he realized the one, small complication in all of this.
"Have you checked with Lockheed about this?" she asked. His face drained of color, "Okay, take the baby home, and introduce them. If they don't get along, well, we'll figure something out."
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The kit was sound asleep when he brought her home, but Lockheed wasn't. He awoke with a start and stood straight up, wings and tail at the ready. He sniffed and prodded at the young fox, unsure as to what to make of it. The young fox stepped forward and licked the small dragon. Peter watched him jump back about three feet. He flew back to the perch near the young animal and sniffed at her again.
The kit rolled over onto her back and presented her belly to Lockheed, he put a paw on her and looked at Peter, "Can I keep her?"
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Peter took Kitty home a week later with the promise that she would take it easy. Emma was almost frantic trying to find a qualified replacement in short notice, but Hank was adamant, she was not allowed back to work for another three weeks, and not on a mission for at least six, and no hanky-panky for at least two weeks. Peter groaned at that, Kitty just laughed, "You'll just have to admire my scar from afar," she teased. "What happened to the fox kit?" she finally asked
"Well, I made a deal with Lockheed," he replied.
"What kind of deal?" she asked, with a raised eyebrow.
"He could keep her as a pet as long as he made sure she got fed, walked her daily, and trained her," he finished, avoiding her eyes.
"My teenage dragon has a pet fox," she sighed. He picked her up and carried her over to the window. Sure enough, Lockheed had the kit on a leash and was walking her (well, he was flying and she was trotting) outside on the grounds. "I should be used to this by now."
Peter laughed, eyeing the pair, "He's named her Yana. He even keeps her clean. Can't manage a brush, but he's conned some of the kids into doing it for him."
"I wonder if Brand ever knew what kind of con job he pulled on her?" she murmured, relaxing into his arms.
All right, this story is kind of based on a real story. A couple of friends of my mother had a dog, and one day, they got a cat. Well, they think the dog got jealous, because he disappeared for a few days. When he came back, he had his own kitten. He made sure the kitten was fed, bathed, the whole nine yards, and it was his kitten. He may still have that cat, I don't know.