Greetings and salutations warpers! Welcome to the first entry of the small collection of MPAS one-shots I'm compiling. Basically, this story is just going to be a bin for all my random MPAS ideas. It'll contain personal head canons, random AUs, father-son moments... Pretty much anything I can think of. Don't worry, I'm still writing the final chapter for Peabody's Probable Adoption Process, but this idea just couldn't let me go and I had to write it!

This one-shot was inspired by a piece of fan art I saw about Peabody and his mother (a regular dog). I wondered how that relationship would work. What kind of a relationship would they have? Would he tell Sherman about her? That's where this story was born. Hope ya'll like it!

Disclaimer: I only own Daisy and the Graysons, Peabody and Sherman still aren't mine...

Rain pounded heavily against enormous windows, creating a repetitive din in the otherwise silent penthouse. Sherman sighed quietly as he watched the raindrops fall to the city below, his face pressed up against the glass. He supposed even the weather was scheduled to be in a bad mood today.

The seven year old turned from the window to stare forlornly at a large door at the end of the hallway. Mr. Peabody had been in there for hours. He'd told Sherman not to disturb him and that he had very important work to do. When the boy had asked what kind of work the dog merely replied "just boring grown-up stuff" before closing the door.

Sherman frowned, that was what bothered him the most. Mr. Peabody always told him what he was doing no matter how "boring" or "grown up." Happy that his son expressed interest in his work, Peabody was always eager to share whatever he was researching or inventing with Sherman and willing to teach him anything he didn't understand.

Sherman may not be as smart as his father, but he could tell when something was bothering the beagle. He had noticed how his ears had drooped, how his tail had dragged, and how his smile hadn't quite reached his eyes. The whole day Mr. Peabody had been… off. He hadn't made his usual show of cooking breakfast or asked Sherman if he needed any help with his homework. He hadn't even proposed a trip in the WABAC. In fact, his father had just sort of stared off into space when he thought the seven year-old wasn't paying attention, his green eyes clouded over. Finally he'd just give up the ghost of pretending he was alright and had been in his office since.

Sherman groaned as he flopped down on the couch, his glasses falling askew on his face. He knew Mr. Peabody was super scheduled but this was just ridiculous. It seemed like every year at this time his dad went all… weird for no reason. Well, there had to be a reason, Peabody just wouldn't tell him…

The red-haired boy let out another sigh, biting his lip as he stared at the closed door. He hated when his father shut him out like this. It wasn't fair! Mr. Peabody was always there for him when he was having a bad day, why could he be there for his Dad too! More than anything, Sherman just wished there was something he could do to make Mr. Peabody feel better…

On the other side of the door Mr. Peabody sat slumped at his large desk in the dark office. His back paws dangling listlessly from the leather office chair as he watched raindrops trail against the window. He knew he'd told Sherman he'd be working, and, to be fair, there was a fair amount of unfinished paperwork sitting on the far end of his desk. But that that wasn't the real reason for keeping himself in here and he knew it.

He just didn't… He wasn't ready… He… He... Peabody fought to focus his scrambled thoughts. He just couldn't let Sherman see him like this. Not now…

Pushing himself up, the dog pressed a small spot on the molding of the antique desk opening a hidden compartment. Reaching inside, Peabody pulled out a simple blue dog collar. The faint light from the window reflected across the heart-shaped tag, the name DAISY glinting back at him. Drawing it close to him, Peabody inhaled its smell. His eyes closed as a familiar scent greeted him, threatening to overwhelm him with the memories it brought. He couldn't believe after all these years it still smelled like her.

Peabody placed his spectacles of the desk, scrubbing furiously at the moisture building in his eyes. He sighed in frustration, shame welling deep in his gut. Honestly, this was ridiculous. It had been years since his mother's death, so why was he still so affected? It was just another day. She'd just been… Peabody struggled to swallow the sudden lump in his throat. She'd just been an ordinary dog.

But even as he thought this his mind reeled in protest. She might not have been intelligent, but to him at least, she'd been so much more than ordinary...

"Hello mother," greeted Peabody as he shuffled into the straw covered barn where the dogs were kept. The puppy was clutching a book twice the size of him, trying to balance on his hind paws as he teetered back and forth under its weight.

The large red and white spotted beagle raised her head wearily from her sleeping position in the corner, but didn't acknowledge him further. But, then again, Peabody had not been expecting her to. Carefully placing Plato's The Republic on top his growing collection of tomes, the puppy shook out his sore arms and straightened the crooked, make-shift glasses on his face. "I was just reading Plato's opinion on the perfect society." He turned back to his mother who merely wagged her tail in response, those large brown eyes staring blankly at him.

From a young age, Peabody had quickly come to realize that he was vastly different from both his mother and his litter mates. Despite this, for a while the puppy clung fruitlessly to the notion that if he could only educate his mother she would somehow understand him. For hours he'd tried teaching her the alphabet and the abstract concept of words, reading aloud to her from his books and talking until he was hoarse. But still, Daisy's gaze remained vacant, her attention span vanishing the instant their caretakers rang the dinner bell. Finally, Peabody had come to the inevitable conclusion that his mother just wasn't capable of complex thought. He did wonder if his father possessed his extraordinary cognition but, if there really was another genius beagle running around somewhere, only Daisy would know—and she certainly wasn't telling anyone any time soon.

Still, Peabody continued to hold these one-way conversations with his mother. He wasn't sure how much she actually understood, but at least he had someone to talk to. Daisy may not have been talkative, but she was a wonderful listener.

"It's really a fascinating subject. Plato seeks to question why men behave justly. Is it because they fear punishment or have a sense of inherent morality?" He laid down in the cleanest spot of hay he could find. Staring around the dimly lit stall, he was surprised at just how empty it seemed now that there was only him and his mother. The wooden walls used to reverberate with the barks and yips of roughhousing beagle puppies, but all of his litter mates" had since been adopted.

It was strange really. In his first weeks of life this stall had been his whole world. Now it felt so small and confining…

"In his writing Plato wants to define justice, and to define it in such a way as to show that justice is worthwhile in and of itself. He meets these two challenges with a single solution: a definition of justice that appeals to human psychology, rather than to perceived behavior." He continued lightly. Daisy let out a loud yawn, her tongue hanging lazily out of her mouth. "You get the idea anyway…"

Peabody laid down on his back to stare at the ceiling, his tiny paws folded in front of him as he contemplated out loud.

"I'm intrigued by his idea that each group in society must perform its appropriate function, and only that function, and each must be in the right position of power in relation to the others. It's sort of like the interconnecting cogs of that clock I took apart last week. Do you remember that mother?" He asked her rhetorically. Of course she didn't. Daisy couldn't be bothered to remember what she had for breakfast yesterday, let alone what happened last week…

"I suppose it's reassuring to know that we each have a place in society. Although I do wonder what my role in the grand scheme of things will be…"

The puppy stared up at the stars just visible through the barn's small skylight, their light reflected in his green eyes. Did he even have a purpose? Was there even a place for beings like him: Abnormalities who had the gall to exist outside the ridged laws of nature? The different families that came to the shelter certainly didn't seem to think so…

Then the words that had been in his mind the whole time came tumbling out before he could stop them: "I was rejected again mother." He tilted his head to watch her for any response, but none came. Nevertheless, he continued, the need to verbalize his frustrations too compelling to stop.

"The children they… they didn't really like me." His voice became tighter, tears leaking down his cheeks. Making a strangled noise in the back of his throat, the puppy sat up and kicked at the hay with all his might. "I don't understand! All I had to do was just act like a dog! Just bark and fetch and roll over but… I just c-couldn't!" Peabody's voice cracked as he tugged at his ears in frustration. "I… I tried so hard Mother! But I just can't do it. I just can't be…"

He turned back to Daisy. Her head was cocked to the side in bemusement, those brown eyes following his every movement. "…like you…"

Turning away from those sorrowful eyes, Peabody curled into himself on the straw, sobbing as the pain of rejection he'd been hiding all day came spilling forth. Why did he have to be different? The genius cursed his own intelligence, raging at the powers that be for their sick sense of humor when they created him. At that moment, more than anything in the world, he wanted to be normal, to be wanted.

A low, sorrowful whine broke through Peabody's inner turmoil. The puppy nearly jumped in surprise as he felt himself being lifted up by the scruff of his neck.

Daisy grasped Peabody firmly in her jaws as she padded back to her pile of hay. Laying him down beside her, his mother proceeded to lick at his tear stained face and nuzzle her wet nose against his own, trying to calm him the only way she knew how.

Instinctively, Peabody leaned into her touch, brushing up against her warm fur and inhaling the comforting scent. His sobs slowly lessened as she licked at his ears repeatedly, lulling him into a calmer state. At that moment, Peabody was content to curl up against Daisy's warm side, reveling in the rare, undivided attention his mother was giving him.

Daisy may not have been gifted in the realms of abstract concepts or philosophical thought, but she was still a mother and he was still her puppy. The two sat in silence as they snuggled deep into the hay, starlight from the window shining down on them.

"I love you mother," Peabody words were small and tentative, but they echoed through the tiny stall.

As expected, silence was his only response...

"I'm telling you Lloyd, I don't like it! It's just not natural!"

"Aww come off it Ellie-"

"Don't you 'Ellie' me Lloyd Grayson! You told me to just leave it alone, it would be adopted eventually. Well guess what?! Nobody wanted to take it and now we're saddled with it and I want it out of my house!"

A young Peabody fearfully held his breath as he listened to the arguing couple from under the kitchen window, hidden from view in the large wood pile.

Mr. And Mrs. Lloyd and Eleanor Grayson were the caretakers of the shelter and all its residents. This included both Peabody and his mother, much to Mrs. Grayson's chagrin...

"The dog mostly keeps to himself sweetheart. I think it's sorta funny personally," came the drawling lilt of Lloyd Grayson.

"Oh, don't get me started on you!" She raged at her husband, her shrill tone a contrast to his deep base. "I see the way you've been letting it steal those books! The glasses were bad enough Llyod, why are you encouraging it?!"

"Ellie he's harmless-"

"A dog that smart doesn't have any business existing in the first place!" She cut him off. "I've been breeding beagles my whole life and I've never seen anything like it. It's like Daisy got herself caught up in some radioactive experiment or something! I'm telling you, Lloyd, we should've done what was right and drowned the runt in the creek from the start!"

Peabody's small frame quivered with fear as he tried to suppress the whimper in this throat. He'd been trying to sneak onto the farmhouse for another book to read when he'd overheard the couple's argument. Now he was beginning to wish he'd stayed in the barn with his mother.

"Ellie you don't mean-"

"Don't you tell me what I do and don't mean!" Her voice then quieted, turning to a fearful whisper. "I hate the way it looks at me Lloyd, like it understands me, like its human or something. And when it started talking..." The woman gave a shudder. "It's just not natural..."

A loud sigh and the scraping of kitchen chairs could be heard as Lloyd made his way to his wife. "Look Ellie, I know you don't like him, but it wouldn't be right to just off the pup in the river. Besides, Daisy likes him well enough and we did want her to keep one of the pups from her last litter for company."

Eleanor let out a muffled groan in response to her husband's logic. "We didn't know she'd be turning out some creepy science experiment gone wrong! Please Lloyd, there's still time! Maybe we could sent it to one of those science labs-"

But Llyod cut her off. "The pup stays Ellie and that's all there is to it." His previously laid back tone was heavy with authority. "Now I don't know about you but I'm going to bed. We got a shipment of dog chow coming in the morning and I'd like to have my wits about me." He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Stop worrying Sweetheart. Way I see it, if God hadn't wanted a mutt that smart on his good earth he wouldn't have put it here in the first place." He left her with a quick goodnight before lumbering up the stairs to their bedroom.

Eleanor grumbled a few chose words under her breath but let him go. "I need a drink" she murmured to herself.

Peabody gave a small sigh of relief at Mr. Grayson's words. But there was still a twinge of fear in his heart. Would Mrs. Grayson really kill him if she got the chance? He hated the resounding "yes" that echoed through his mind. Too scared to get caught by the temperamental woman, the puppy decided against trying to sneak another book. Instead he walked back to the barn, taking care to walk on all fours just in case Mrs. Grayson spotted him. She hated it when he walked on his hind legs.

From the start Mrs. Grayson had never liked him. When he was a newborn she'd found his observations of her unnerving. Then, when he'd said his first word, she'd screamed and run into the farmhouse like her skirt was on fire. At one point she'd even though Peabody was possessed, but luckily her husband had stopped her before she called in the local priest.

Mr. Grayson, on the other hand, chose to have a sense of humor about Peabody's strange existence. True, the man treated him like a side-show freak, but at least he didn't want to drown him. He allowed Peabody to take whatever books he wanted from the man's large collection, thinking it awfully clever that the pup had taught himself to read on the scraps of newspaper outside. He was also the one who gave Peabody the glasses, noting how the pup would squint and hold the books up far too close to his face. The glasses had been an old pair of his, but with a few modifications Peabody had managed to adjust them to suit his needs.

Finally, he'd reached the barn. Quietly as he could, Peabody curled up against his still sleeping mother, trying not to wake her. He stared at the wooden walls as he tried to sleep, his active mind still buzzing with the conversation he'd overheard. He was going to have to be more careful around Mrs. Grayson from now on. Maybe if he just stopped talking. After all, it only seemed to antagonize her. He sighed quietly as his tired eyelids began to droop. If only it wasn't so hard to be a normal dog..With that last thought the beagle soon drifted off into a fitful sleep…

*BANG!*

Peabody lifted his weary head at the noise that reverberated through the barn. He blinked blearily to see the blurry outline of a very drunk looking Mrs. Grayson in the moonlight as she stumbled through the doorway. "Dammit!" She slurred, making her way to the stall.

Then, before he knew what was happening, Peabody found himself lifted into the air, his limbs dangling helplessly.

The woman chucked darkly, the smell of booze heavy on her breath. "If Lloyd don't got the stomach for it, I'll just have to do it myself..." She rambled.

Realizing instantly what was happening, Peabody twisted and squirmed in the woman's vice-like grip, whimpering and hollering for all his might. He was silenced abruptly when her other hand clamped tightly over his snout.

"Shattup!" She glared down at him.

Peabody continued to struggle in vain, twisting his small body to and fro as she marched him out of the barn and into the open air. He hadn't even had time to put on his glasses so the world was a blurry mess of dim color. His jaws fought against her tight grip, searching desperately for freedom so he could call for help.

But it was the dead of night. Who would even hear him?

Even drunk Mrs. Grayson handled him with the firm expertise of an experienced dog breeder. "Not so smart now are ya, you little shit!" She slurred, her gait stumbling but confident as she neared her destination.

The puppy felt a cold surge of terror as the sound of running water met his ears. They'd reached the nearby stream that wrapped around the property.

Desperately, he clamped his sharp little teeth over one of her fingers, causing the woman to swear and draw back her hand in pain. Now that his jaws were free, Peabody yowled at the top of his tiny voice. "HELP! PLEASE SOMEONE HELP! MOTHER HELP-" but a hard slap came across his muzzle.

"I SAID SHUT UP!" shrieked Mrs. Grayson, her eyes unfocused as they rounded on the puppy. "For the love of God, JUST STOP TALKING!"

But Peabody could see her resolve weakening. "PLEASE," he pleaded with her at the top of his voice. He was hyperventilating now, tears running rapidly down both cheeks. "I'LL NEVER TALK AGAIN IF YOU JUST PUT ME DOWN. I'll BE JUST LIKE A REGULAR DOG! I'LL SIT AND I'LL FETCH AND I'LL STAY..." But his voice was cut off as he hand tightened around his windpipe.

The emotional turmoil was obvious on the older woman's face as she held the mutt over the icy water below, trying to avoid his tearful gaze. "Just stop it!" She whispered tightly. "Stop it and hold still-"

Peabody yelped and shuddered violently as he felt the frigid water hit his tail, sending a thrill of horror up his spine. For once his mind was devoid of all but one primal, desperate thought: 'I don't want to die.'

Suddenly, a loud growl sounded behind them and Mrs. Grayson turned in shock before she could hold Peabody under the water. A very angry Daisy was staring her down. The older beagle's jowls were raised as she showed the woman her teeth. Spittle went flying as another growl ripped through her throat.

Peabody stopped struggling momentarily to gape at his mother in surprise. He'd never seen her look so formidable.

Apparently neither had Mrs. Grayson. "SHOO!" She yelled, but there was fear in her eyes.

Daisy stood her ground, body crouched and ready to spring, ears pinned to the back of her head, fur bristling. The beagle barked and snarled furiously, causing Mrs. Grayson to jump back in fright, nearly falling into the water herself.

They stood for what felt like hours in the precarious stand-off, the mother refusing to yield. Mrs. Grayson's eyes darted quickly between the snarling animal and the pup in her grip, her alcohol-slowed mind finally coming to a decision: It wasn't worth it.

"FINE! Take it then if it means so much to you!"

Suddenly, before Peabody understood what was happening, he felt himself being thrown through the air. He landed on the ground with a resounding thump, bouncing slightly before coming to a stop. His whole body shook and his throat ached as he inhaled fresh air.

Daisy was at his side in an instant. Quick as a flash she snatched Peabody firmly in her jaws and ran for the barn, leaving Mr. Grayson to stumble angrily back into the house. It wasn't until they reached the safety of the barn that Daisy released the still trembling Peabody. She poked and prodded at him with her nose, checking for any sign of injury. Normally, Peabody wouldn't like the intrusion into his personal space, but at the moment the puppy as content to remain as close to his mother as possible. His mind was still reeling from the shock of what had almost happened.

Once satisfied that there was little injury to Peabody, Daisy curled around her puppy protectively. Her muscles were still taunt, refusing to relax as she eyed the entrance to the stall. Any moment, the beagle was ready and willing to spring. No one else was going touch her puppy. As the shock wore off and his adrenaline crashed Peabody found he had never felt so grateful for the reassuring warmth of his mother's presence.

They stayed like that for the rest of the night, Daisy unwilling to leave Peabody's side until she was certain the danger had passed.

Even years after the incident, a fully grown Peabody still shuttered at the traumatizing memory.

Never again did Mrs. Grayson try to get rid of him. She'd obviously decided he wasn't worth the trouble of going through Daisy's wrath. The woman had kept her distance and Peabody tried his hardest not to antagonize her. Still, it was a terse relationship at best.

The genius suspected he wouldn't have survived his first year of life without his mother's protection.

He sighed softly, turning the faded blue collar over in his paw. His heart ached painfully he thought about what had happened this same day so many years ago.

All things considered, his mother's passing had been ideal. She had died peacefully in her sleep of heart failure. Still, Peabody had been distraught when he'd woken up to find the cold remains of his mother beside him.

Now fully grown but still young, Peabody cursed himself for not seeing the signs. After all, Daisy had been short of breath for some time now, needing to stop frequently as she played with the shelter's latest litter of puppies. He'd assumed she was just tired out, not even thinking about the more sinister implications until it was too late.

What good was a genius intellect if he couldn't even diagnose a simple case of cardiomyopathy?

Daisy's death held little ceremony at the Grayson Animal Shelter. After making sure she was indeed deceased, the Graysons had packed her body in a simple cardboard box. Peabody barely had time to take the collar from his mother's neck before she was buried four feet in the ground. There had been no tombstone, no grave marker, nothing to indicate that a beagle named Daisy had lived eight years in this place. All that was left of her was a simple strip of cloth and the white, bespectacled beagle clutching it like a lifeline.

As Peabody stared at that unmarked mount of dirt he saw in it a horrible premonition. If he remained here this would be his inevitable fate. Like his mother, the culmination of his total existence would be reduced to nothing more than a pile of bones in the backyard.

It was in that moment that Peabody made his decision to leave the shelter. Now that his mother was gone, there was nothing left for him there. He was determined to make the life his mother had protected so fiercely to mean something.

Peabody had left that night with nothing more than his mother's collar and his own determination. His first stop was Washington D.C. to become the first official canine citizen of the United States.

*CRASH!*

Peabody was forcibly jolted from his nostalgia by the sudden crash that carried through the penthouse. His mind immediately flew to the worst conclusion.

"SHERMAN!" He called in alarm, rushing out of his office and picking up the boy's scent.

He turned the corner and swung open the kitchen door to find a very guilty looking Sherman next to the shattered remains of one of his mixing bowls, glass shards mixing with dripping batter. The kitchen was a complete mess. Flour littered every surface, a small puddle of cooking oil was pooling on the floor, and… Was that egg on the ceiling?

The boy was wide eyed and covered head to toe in flour, but otherwise unharmed. Peabody breathed a sigh of relief before leading the child out of harm's way.

"I'm so sorry Mr. Peabody!" Sherman was rambling. "I was trying to be careful but the bowl was heavier than I thought and it slipped..." He voiced trailed off into a whisper as Peabody held up a paw. The boy looked down at his feet, biting his lower lip "Sorry."

Peabody sighed again as he took in the dejected look on his boy's face. "Sherman," he started, tinting up the child's chin to meet his eyes. "First of all, I'm just glad you're alright." He affectionately wiped a smear of flour off of his cheek. "You gave me quite the scare for a moment." The seven year-old's eyes widened in amazement that his father could be scared of anything.

"Second of all," the dog continued, his tone more stern. "You know that you're supposed to ask my permission before trying to cook! Why did you think now would be an exception?"

Sherman looked back down at the ground, his hands wringing his batter stained shirt. "I'm sorry Mr. Peabody," He apologized again. "I guess I knew you were really sad about something so I thought I could make you feel better." He picked up a small recipe card of the counter and showed it to his father. "These are your favorite right?"

Peabody eyes softened as he stared at the recipe for peanut butter and apple crisp cookies he'd modified for dogs.

Guilt welled up inside him as the genius realized how he'd once again shut his son out to protect his own fragile pride. But, even when he turned him away, Sherman was still thinking of him, still wanting to make him feel better. Peabody forgot sometimes just what it meant to be part of a family. You had to allow others to care about you.

"I just wanted to do something to help" murmured Sherman, his brown eyes shining with sincerity before darting back to the floor. "M'sorry..."

But the child's voice trailed off abruptly as Peabody pulled him in close for an embrace, hugging his boy as tightly as he could. Sherman's eyes widened in surprise. It wasn't often his father initiated such displays of affection.

"So... Does this mean I'm not grounded?"

Peabody chuckled into Sherman's shoulder. "I think I can let you off the hook just this once." He pulled away slightly to meet Sherman's eyes. "But don't even think about baking unsupervised again!"

The child gave him a lopsided grin. "Yes Mr. Peabody," he chorused obediently.

"Yes well... Good" Peabody cleared his throat. "Now let's get this place cleaned up. Let me take care of the glass first." But as he turned to find a broom, he was completely unprepared for Sherman's next question.

"What's that in your hand Mr. Peabody?"

Looking down, Peabody noticed he was still clutching his mother's collar. He must've run out of his office so fast that he'd forgotten to put it away.

Peabody was about to tell Sherman that the collar was nothing, but as Sherman gazed at him with such innocent curiosity, the words died in his throat. He stared at the faded blue fabric, the name DAISY glinted off the tag invitingly.

His grip on the collar tightened as did his resolve.

It was time to stop hiding his emotions behind an office door. It was time to stop being too ashamed of his past to share it with his son. After all, just as he'd been his mother's pup, Sherman was his.

Taking a deep breath, Peabody set aside his pride and began; Sherman hanging on his father's every word.

"This, Sherman, belonged to someone very important to me. Her name was Daisy, and she was my mother..."

Well, did you love it, hate it, both? Please feel free to read and review! I look forward to your input!

Warmest Regards,

Katie