Authors' Note: This fic was written to honor the passing of our beloved beagle, Kala Bagel, the dog we named after a character and then wrote into the fic. Twice.
It takes place a couple years after Into the Shadows, and features Jason and Elise, who'd been in the background for a while.
I wrote an authors' note in Shadows that serves as an elegy as well, but the best way I can cope with losing my good girl is to bring her to life again. Bagel, Chewie, and now Ginger are all our Kala Bagel, in her various moods. The Kent family will never be without a beagle, somewhere, just as I hope that Lois-the-author and I never will either.
Jason Kent was taking to the life of a house-husband fairly well, all things considered. Super-hearing, x-ray vision, and super-speed were all assets in dealing with twin girls who'd just started walking, and he'd managed to arrange his class schedule so all of his courses were online this semester. That freed Elise up to spend more time in the lab and on her own classes, which required the university labs. Luckily it was only one day a week, and she had an easy commute from Kansas to Berkeley – well, only easy if you had friends who could fly. So far she'd made one trip with Kala, after which she'd burrowed into Jason's arms and said insistently, "Never again."
The rest of the time, she hitched rides with her father-in-law, who insisted it was no trouble, or Cassie Sandsmark. Jason was glad that his wife and one of his best friends got along so well, despite the fact that he'd dated Cassie. Some wives would've seen the demigoddess as a threat; Elise liked her, and they tended to gang up on Jason and give him grief at times. Cassie's current favorite jibe was to razz him about turning her favorite scientist into a Kryptonian broodmare.
Elise just rolled her eyes at that. She'd taken a year off college when the girls were born, and luckily her work for Wayne R&D could be done in the custom-built top-secret lab that Lucius Fox had helped them design and install under the barn. Now that they were walking and talking, Jason figured it was time for him to take over the lion's share of home-duties and let Elise focus on her degree and her career. He was still Superboy, too, but his regular work with the Titans tended to occur when Elise was home for the day. And if an emergency threatened, he could leave the girls in Metropolis with his mom.
Today he didn't have to worry about that. He just had to keep a pair of inquisitive, intelligent little girls from getting into too much trouble. Which was a heroic task, for sure, especially when they tended to hare off in opposite directions.
He had to feed the animals, which meant bringing the girls along, and Jillian was still at his side as he tossed scratch feed to the chickens … but Kendall had just vanished. "Where's your sister?" Jason said aloud, and Jillian looked up at him innocently.
It was the work of seconds to find her, she hadn't been out of sight more than half a minute, but good grief she was trying to unlatch the pasture gate and let the mules out. "No, ma'am," Jason said, sprinting over and picking her up. He settled her on his hip and went back for her twin, who was trying to toss more feed to the chickens like Daddy had. Jillian's pudgy fists were dropping large clusters of feed instead of scattering it, but the hens seemed to appreciate the bonanza.
Now with a girl on each hip, Jason looked down at two identical expressions of merriment. At least his mom had only had to deal with fraternal twins – the girls were exactly alike, down to cutting their first teeth on the same day. He and Elise had had to paint their toenails as babies to tell them apart at first; within months, though, personalities had asserted themselves enough that they could easily tell them apart. No one else could, though, and for the sake of the extended family, they dressed Kendall in pink and Jillian in purple.
Lana maintained that they'd switched the pair at around four months, to everyone's amusement. The girls' first names came from Elise's family, but they'd been given the middle names of Jason's mother figures: Kendall Lana had been the quieter infant, and Jillian Lois was the one who recalled Kala's demanding cries. Now, though, Jillian was the more subdued, and Kendall was always the first to find trouble. Lana would've liked to blame that on Lois somehow, despite Clark sharing stories of Lana's own childhood shenanigans.
"What am I gonna do with the pair of you?" Jason sighed, smiling at them, and they both giggled. He had to put them both down to pick up the feed bag before the chickens ripped into it, and true to form, they ran in opposite directions.
There was a trick for dealing with that. "Oh, we're running? Okay, bye!" Jason called and ran off perpendicular to them both. That, thank God, made both girls turn and chase Daddy.
At least he managed to put away the chicken feed and tire them both out enough to get them down for a nap. The two tiny brunettes sacked out in their shared bed, and Jason sat down to watch them sleep. He should've been doing the dishes, but sometimes he just watched them in amazement and wonder.
The girls had that effect on people. It was all right in Smallville, everyone knew the Kent kids now, and small town gossip meant most of the questions were answered long before Jason or Elise had to face them. But whenever they took the girls out of town for something, they got stares, smiles, random stories about twins that strangers had known, and then the questions. Some of which could be rather bone-headed, and Jason let Elise deal with those.
Anyone who asked, "Are they twins?" would generally be told, "No, there's just one baby, it's an optical illusion." Or, "Nah, the hospital had a sale, birth one get one free, so we picked up a second." Thankfully, most people laughed.
The question Elise resented was, "Are they natural?" When they'd first heard it, Elise hadn't understood what was being asked. One diatribe about the evils of fertility treatments set her teeth on edge, though, so anyone who asked that tended to get, "Nope, we grew them in a cloning lab. Better to have a spare in case something happens." Sometimes she said, "Nah, these are those new 'realistic' dolls. You've seen them? So cool, they even make them with optional snot now!"
To one particular woman who'd asked in an especially obnoxious tone, Elise had said flatly, "No, they're aliens." Kala had been with them in Metropolis for that encounter, and she'd doubled over laughing.
"It's as bad as people asking Mom if we were identical," she'd chuckled. "Oh, man, I'm glad you married her, Jason. With a sense of humor like that, if you didn't, I'd have to."
"If I'd married you I wouldn't have identical twins," Elise had said, scowling. "God, people are so stupid."
Kala had just shrugged. "What if I wanted kids, though? We would've gotten Jason as a sperm donor and ended up in the same situation."
Jason had rolled his eyes. "Stop trying to steal my girlfriend! We're married, we have kids, we own a house, just give up, Kal! Why are you so weird?"
"Hey, she was my friend first and it would make my life less complicated. I introduced the two of you," Kala had pointed out.
His dorky sister did love both the girls, always happy to babysit them – even if she had to fly in from Europe to do so, as in one memorable tour. They loved their aunt, too, yelling "Kallie Kallie Kallie!" every time they saw her, and usually each grabbed a leg and hung on. She let them have the nickname, which no one else had ever called her.
The girls were developing within normal parameters, though their vocabulary was a little weird. They had their own private language, Jason thought, mostly compromised of looks and one-word sentences. Mom told him that he and Kala had been the same. At least Kendall and Jillian were learning to speak to everyone else; one mother in the online twin-parent support group had a pair of three-year-old boys whose vocabulary was outshone by their eighteen-month-old brother. They'd invented their own language, but all the experts assured that those boys, too, could and would learn to communicate with other people.
Eventually Jason got up, and finished the chores he could while the girls slept, listening carefully to them. By the time Elise got home, he was thoroughly exhausted, barely able to wave to Cassie as she flew off. "I don't know how anyone does this without all the help we have," he told Elise.
She kissed his cheek. "Not to mention your superpowers, sweetheart. Can't wait 'til they get those."
He gave a brief laugh full of dread. "We were five or so when it started, and really got in gear by six. I really hope they wait that long."
"Yeah, but you two were supercharged at six," Elise pointed out. "The girls don't need that, because they aren't as sickly as you were. Then again, they're mostly human. We don't even know if they'll get powers."
"Jor-El thinks they will. It's a dominant trait, if it showed up in us at all," Jason sighed.
Elise looked at the pair of them, watching their allotted hour of television, and smiled. "That's gonna be fun," she chuckled. Then she turned to Jason and patted his shoulder. "Go sit outside in the sun for a bit, Lizard-boy. Soak up some rays. You probably need it. I'll handle the terrible twosome."
He stretched until his back popped. "Nah, I need to take the Hubbards' chainsaw back anyway. I'll ride that over now that you're home."
Elise stepped back and looked at him seriously. "You sure you're all right to drive?"
"You do tend to give me an energy boost," Jason said, and kissed her.
"Aww, that means I'm like the sun," she chuckled. "Extremely dangerous in cases of prolonged exposure."
"More like super-hot and source of my strength," Jason laughed, which got him both an eye-roll and a blush.
He drove over to the Hubbards' farmhouse in the old truck, noticing a new rattle under the hood that he'd have to get Dustin to look at soon. He pulled up in their yard and got out to the sonorous baying of beagles, a sound that always made him smile. The Hubbards never worried about anyone approaching the property without them knowing. "Hey, Andy!" he called as he got out, carrying the chainsaw.
Andrew Hubbard, Grandpa Ben's youngest son, came around the corner of the house, with three dogs at his heels. He was some twenty years Jason's senior, and worked from home as a network consultant to keep the farm in the family. "Hey, Jason," he called back.
"Brought the chainsaw back," Jason said.
"You coulda kept it another week," Andy said, grinning. "The missus'll want me to clear out those blow-downs in the back pasture, now we got it back."
"I can't help you there," Jason chuckled.
They stood around the truck, talking of women and weather and dogs. It would rude to just drop off the chainsaw and leave, and besides, Jason enjoyed a conversation that didn't revolve around diapers or solid food or the magical power of the word 'no'.
The three hounds who'd come with Andy snuffled around Jason's shoes, and the youngest one jumped up against his knee to get her ears rubbed. "Hey there, cutie," Jason said. "Is this a new one, Andy?"
"Nah, that's Gidget, from Angel's last litter," Andy told him. "Angel is Mathilda's get, you know, one of her last. Same mother as your parents' pup."
Jason nodded; Bagel was sixteen now, living comfortably in Metropolis with her younger cousin Chewie. Andy continued, "Not much nose on Gidget there, so I sold her to a couple up in Hartwell. The sire's got show-line blood, that whole litter went off as pets. I won't make that mistake again, strictly working-bred from now on. But he had that nice square head people like, I thought it'd be all right."
He could talk beagle pedigrees and breeding and hunting for hours, so Jason gently nudged him back on track. "The couple in Hartwell returned her?"
"Yeah, damn shame. Nice people, but they just found out they're pregnant, and they don't think they have time for a puppy." Andy sounded a little contemptuous of that, but then he smiled. "Least they brought her to me, and they didn't even ask for their money back. I'd never forgive anyone who dropped one of my pups in the shelter – they're all microchipped to me, y'know, but I worry. Every dog breeder does. Anyway, once they get settled in again I might give 'em another chance. Maybe try 'em with one of the older bitches – I've got too many right now. And that little spitfire there isn't helping any."
He spoke fondly of the dog who was still leaning into Jason's hand, eyes closed in bliss. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"Well, you know, it's really the bitches who run the pack," Andy said, warming to his topic. "Maybe that's 'cause of how we breed 'em. A serious breeder starts with one good bitch, and to build his line he keeps a daughter or two. You can keep a stud or two, but you don't want to inbreed too much, and it gets expensive to keep buying a new stud every generation, so mostly you breed to outside studs and keep the bitches. They're a family, mothers and daughters and granddaughters down the line, and every other dog respects the matriarch."
Jason had seen that for himself, when Grandpa Ben was alive. He kept around twenty dogs, but it always seemed to be Sadie or Mathilda up on the furniture or riding in the cab of the truck. When Mom and Dad came out to Smallville and brought the dogs, Bagel and her mother and aunt had a loud and affection reunion, but the normally bossy Bagel always deferred to her elders.
Now that Ben had passed on and Elise and Jason took over the farm, the beagle pack was back at the Hubbard house – except for three who'd been too stubborn to change. Elise rolled her eyes, but three older male beagles weren't much trouble. Tippy, Hank, and Bart knew not to bother livestock, after all, and they weren't expensive to feed. Plus the dogs were good company, even if as their years advanced, they tended to snooze much of the day. Jason was grateful for them, since any mischief with the twins got them barking in alarm.
"So too many girls means they fight?" Jason asked. "I didn't realize the girls fought."
Andy laughed. "Oh, son. Males fight for breeding rights. Bitches fight for breathing rights. My dad was lucky he could keep Sadie and Mathilda together, being sisters. Beagles are pack hounds, they're not as bad as some breeds – I know a lady in shepherds who can't have her two top bitches loose at the same time. She's got a schedule, who's crated and who's out, 'cause they'll kill each other if they can."
"Yikes," Jason muttered.
Leaning on the bumper, Andy continued, "Anyways, Gidget there's causing me some grief, 'cause she thinks she should be top bitch. Right now Streak is tops. She's out of Sadie's line, good little hunter, but she's pregnant now and not putting up with any foolishness. Streak's got a daughter, Janey, who looks to take over for momma, and Janey's two years old. Gidget's smart enough not to mess with Streak, but she's pickin' fights with Janey. I named her after that Lutter woman, good Lord she's the loudest beagle I ever met and that's really saying something, but she ain't dumb. She ain't mean, either, but pretty soon Gidget's puppy license is gonna expire. She's nine months old, now. By the time she's a year, Janey's gonna feel like she has to whup her into place. Be better for Gidget to get her into another home, but nobody around here wants a nine-month-old bitch with no nose. She's no hunter, and the pet people want the cute little puppies. That one looks too much like a grown dog."
Jason looked down at her. Gidget was tricolor, like almost all of the Hubbard dogs, and she had a white muzzle with a narrow blaze up between her eyes. She was still all legs and paws and ears, gangly as half-grown puppies were, but her white-tipped tail lashed excitedly and her puppy coat was soft under his hand. She looked up at him, her brown eyes bright and merry as all beagles, and her tongue lolled out between white teeth in a broad smile. Something like a cramp seized his heart then.
The three dogs at home weren't Jason's. They had been Ben's, his grandad's, and though they were friendly, none of them was particularly attached to Jason or Elise. They accepted affection from Kendall and Jillian, but didn't seek it out unless the twins were eating. Then, of course, the hounds paid rapt attention to the possibility of crumbs.
"How much do you want for her?" Jason heard himself ask.
Andy scoffed. "Now, what do you think I am? Some kind of scam artist? I can't sell the same dog twice! I'll be happy just to get her a good home. No papers, and I'd want her spayed once she's grown, but a pet doesn't need papers. Or to make more puppies."
Jason looked down into those laughing eyes. Bagel's eyes were the color of chocolate, rich and sweet, deep wells of adoration. Chewie's were lighter, always fired by a spark of mischief. Gidget's were somewhere in between, with all the joy of her breed, but a streak of humor. "I have to ask Elise," Jason said.
"Of course," Andy told him. "You've got two girls of your own, too. I always thought dogs and kids went good together, but I won't press you. I'd rather not load you down with too much."
"She's halfway grown already," Jason said.
"Yep. Housebroken, knows a couple commands," Andy agreed. "If you want to take her for a week, see how she does, just let me know once you ask the missus."
Ears softer than velvet under his hand, and the little dog leaned trustingly against Jason's leg. He knew, if he let the puppy in the house, she'd be there to stay. How could anyone refuse those big dark eyes? "I'd have to change the name," he said apologetically.
Andy laughed. "I didn't pick it, either – she was 'orange girl' for her collar as a pup. Heck, she's a beagle – call her whatever you like, long as you've got food in your hand, and she'll answer."
…
Elise thought he was insane. "We have six chickens, a goat, two mules, three dogs, and a geriatric iguana," she said patiently. "Not to mention the box turtle that lives under the house."
"Frank isn't a pet," Jason said. "He's wild. And the official state reptile."
Elise's gray eyes slid closed and she rubbed her temples. "Yeah, wild turtles get strawberries when they come out of hibernation in the spring. I shouldn't be surprised. You named the snake living under the tool shed, too."
Jason stuck to the topic at hand. "I was thinking it might be good to get the girls a dog. Kids and dogs go together pretty good."
She frowned. "And this is a puppy. So we'd have three crazy young things to chase around the house."
"She's almost grown," Jason said. And then, borrowing Andy's tactic, he told her, "We could have her for a week on trial."
Elise looked at him thoughtfully. "Okay, hotshot. I'll bite. Get the puppy. But she's your puppy. I'm not walking, feeding, brushing, or cleaning up after her. And if she so much as nips one of the girls, she's gone."
"Beagles don't bite," Jason said.
That ended the argument before it began, because Bagel had bitten, exactly once, and Elise had been there. The sweet little dog had bitten Jason's girlfriend, Giselle, who had turned out to be a spy for Luthor – and who had been holding a gun on Jason at the time. The memories of those days, full of fear for Kala and themselves, quieted them both.
Elise finally sighed, and stepped in close, Jason's arms going around her. "You're crazy. But I'm crazy, too."
"You have a mad scientist's lab under the barn," Jason reminded her.
"Last I checked, you like the mad scientist thing," she said, smiling.
"I do. It suits you." Jason kissed her, feeling her lips curl up in a smile.
When she stepped back for breath, Elise shrugged. "Get the puppy. Your mom's gonna laugh at us."
"She does that anyway," Jason said.
…
Gidget's arrival occasioned some trepidation. Jason let her out of the truck into the dooryard, and she began sniffing industriously around the tires, the mailbox, the front steps, Martha Kent's rose bushes. All the while her tail whipped back and forth as she snuffled the world up into her nose, her scenthound's brain cataloging everything. He watched her as Elise came around the side of the house with the three boy dogs.
Hank saw her first, and howled. Tippy and Bart both stood as if electrified, hackles up, and echoed his bay. Then the three elderly males charged the little female newcomer.
Andy had warned Jason not to interfere. "You're not a dog man, not really," he'd said. "You'll only mix them up. Let them settle it. They're beagles, not bulldogs. It'll be two minutes of sound and fury, then everything'll be fine."
Gidget saw them coming, and Jason thought she would run back to him, or under the truck. This was their yard, their territory, and each one of them was bigger than her. Bart was the most dominant of the three dogs, though with a group of older, neutered males who'd known each other their lives, the only time that seemed to matter was when Bart wanted something the others had. He usually got it with just a look and a stiff wag of his tail; Jason had never heard any growling among the three.
Now, though, the three came on, hackles bristling, and Jason winced, curbing his instinct to protect the puppy. Gidget paid him no mind at all. She saw the three males, and her own hackles went up. To Jason's astonishment, she charged them, growling with a deep warning note that seemed unnatural for her small body.
Tippy and Hank skidded to a halt. Bart continued for two strides before realizing his backup had abandoned him, and froze. He and Gidget met, nose to nose, both holding their heads and tails as high as physically possible. She pushed her head forward, he jerked back, looking affronted.
Elise had one hand over her mouth, watching; Kendall and Jillian were with Kala at the moment. If this didn't work out, better that they didn't know a puppy had ever been a possibility.
Stiff-legged, Bart and Gidget stepped slightly past, sniffing at each other's shoulders, then rumps. Jason started to breathe a sigh of relief as the tails began to wag lower, and more fluidly. But then, Bart turned his shoulder into Gidget, putting his head over her back.
She spun like a dervish, springing to her hind feet, and slapping him across the face with one outsize puppy paw. Bart looked shocked, leaning back, and when Gidget drove in with teeth flashing, he broke and ran under the truck. That left Gidget in command of the yard; she looked at Hank and Tippy, who both crouched down and wagged madly.
"Holy crap," Elise said, looking at Jason. "What is she, part Tasmanian devil?"
"Andy said she wanted to be top bitch," he replied faintly.
Meanwhile Gidget had stalked up to the other two dogs, sniffed them, then wandered off to pee near the rose bushes. All three males hurried to pee over the same spot, while she walked up the steps and sat down on the mat, looking curiously at Jason as if to ask what he was waiting for. As far as she was concerned, she was home.
"The queen ascends to her throne," Elise laughed. "What's her name again?"
"Gidget," Jason replied. "But I think we'll call her Ginger."
The pup perked her ears, and yapped.
…
Four days into the trial week, Jason came home from a Titans emergency and found his wife, his daughters, and Ginger all asleep in the big bed, with the three older dogs in their own comfy beds on the floor. Ginger lay along Elise's back, and looked at him mildly, her tail thumping the quilt. "Oh yeah, you're my dog," he chuckled, and petted her.
Elise cracked one eye open. "She hasn't made a mess, she hasn't chewed anything she shouldn't, and the girls love her. She loves them, too, you know. Also she's better than you about not breathing morning breath into my face while I'm trying to wake up."
"Great, now I've been replaced," Jason said, and bent to kiss Elise. He got a face-full of puppy tongue instead, and both of them laughed, which fortunately didn't wake the girls.
"Ginger stays," Elise said. "Although you never told me why you picked Ginger. I was sure you'd go for Mothra."
He smirked. "The way she put the boys in her place, she could only be Ginger."
"Spicy?" Elise asked, quirking a brow.
Jason couldn't keep the mirth out of his voice. "Ginger Snaps."
It took a second for Elise to remember that film, and she smacked him with a pillow. "You're worse than Richard! Why is always cheesy horror movies with you?!"
He laughed, catching her up in a hug. "Well, I thought about Samara, but I figured Ginger would easier for her to learn. It's kinda close to Gidget."
"No to Samara. Good grief." Elise just shook her head. "You know, Martha warned me not to marry a beagler."
"Don't worry, Andy says I'm not one," Jason replied. "And we're not breeding them – we have to spay her, but he said it's better to wait until she's full grown."
"I barely convinced you not to get that breeding pair of bearded dragons, and those stay in their cages," Elise told him sternly. "We're not breeding beagles. We're already nuts bringing in a puppy with the girls."
"It's the best kind of crazy," Jason told her, and she couldn't help agreeing.
The disturbance had brought Ginger to her feet, and she hopped over Elise, turning in circles before settling down beside Jillian and Kendall. The two girls were asleep, but Jillian reached out one pudgy hand and patted the little dog's flank.
Jason swore Ginger was smiling as she wagged her tail.