Gift fic for jkqlynide who won my 100 follower giveaway on Tumblr.

Also you wouldn't believe the kind of research I did for this fic. I discovered that a lot of cat owners hate literally everything their cat does. Who woulda thunk?
And yes I may or may not have looked up the exact title of the movie with the same name as this fic just so I could properly copy it. If I'm gonna steal the title from a movie I'm gonna do it properly, dangit.

Also I couldn't pick Maddie the cat as major character. Rude.

A ghost shimmered into view in front of Vlad. There weren't a lot of ghosts who visited him at his mayoral office – most knew better than to bother him here.

He had to admit that he was surprised to see this one, however. While admittedly the white-haired teen had visited him before, he usually had a reason. Specifically, he usually dropped by all irate after Vlad had launched another of his brilliant plans.

Brilliant plans which he hadn't made, recently. Which he hadn't acted on.

So why was Daniel here?

"Little badger," he greeted the boy in front of him, smiling politely – just because he didn't know why Daniel was here didn't mean that he had act like it. "What can I do for you?"

Daniel fidgeted, pulling his arms closer to his chest. And only now did Vlad notice that he was carrying something – a small bundle of bright green fur. A ghost?

"I, um." He glanced downwards at the small animal in his arms. Then back at Vlad. "I need you to do something for me."

"Really now?" Vlad let his eyes wander towards the unknown ghost. "Is this related to your little friend, perhaps?"

"Yeah, actually." Daniel floated closer. And then unceremoniously dumped the ball of fur on Vlad's desk.

The ghost turned out to be a small dog. Covered entirely with green fur, but blinking large red eyes at him. Its flame-like tail was wagging up a storm already, and its purple tongue was lolling out of its mouth. A spiked collar was looped around its neck, a small tag attached to the front of it. He didn't bother reading it – he didn't care.

Vlad grimaced, then ignored the ghost to look at the boy. "Daniel, what on Earth do you want me to do with this mutt?"

"I need you to look after him for me." He started petting the dog, which squinted its eyes in pleasure. "I need him to stay away for a couple of days so I can get him a permanent place to stay. A week, tops."

Was this kid serious? He considered Vlad his arch-nemesis, and yet he dropped by to ask him to babysit a dog?

"Daniel," he started, folding his hands together to look more composed than he felt. "Why would you come to me to babysit," he gestured at the panting dog on his desk, "this?"

The boy blinked large green eyes at him. "Well, I… You're… sort of the only person I know who actually knows enough about ghosts to take care of one." Then he looked down at the dog he was still petting and added, "And Cujo usually runs away to seek out other ghosts if he's not already with one."

Vlad sighed, repressing the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. "So you decided to bring it to me?"

"Uh, yeah." Daniel fidgeted uneasily, restlessly petting the dog. "Just for a few days, I promise! And– And taking care of a pet is good for you! Not like, you, specifically, but–"

Raising a hand to silence the boy, Vlad rolled his eyes. "Daniel. I already have a pet. And I'm not convinced that she will get along with this… this."

"She?" Daniel echoed, eyes blown wide by the revelation. "Wait, did you actually get a cat? That's great – if you already know how to take care of one pet, surely you can handle Cujo for a couple of days too?"

For a brief moment, Vlad was amazed at how easily Daniel had turned his argument against him. "She's a cat, Daniel. Surely you're familiar with the tales of how well cats and dogs get along?"

"Can't you at least give it a shot?" His eyes were big and wet – like puppy-dog eyes, except that Vlad was a lot more immune to the red eyes of the dog itself. "If it doesn't work – if Cujo and your cat don't get along or anything – I'll come pick him up again! Please, Vlad?"

That… might've been one of the first times that Daniel had called him by his actual name instead of Plasmius. Outside of settings where he had to call him Vlad, obviously. The boy… The boy must be very desperate.

He sighed, looking over the ghostly canine again. "Fine. Fine, I'll do it. But Daniel–"

The boy stopped his premature cheer. "Yeah?"

"You'll owe me one." Vlad locked eyes with the only being in existence that was like him. "I am no fool – even I can see that you will not give up on your family, including your father. But in return for this, let me start training you. Let us quit this silly rivalry."

Daniel's eyes went from Vlad to the dog and then back to Vlad. Then he shrugged, almost carelessly, and said, "Sure dude. I never wanted to be enemies anyway. That was all you."

And then he blinked invisible. A wind swept past Vlad almost immediately after – Daniel had left.

Perhaps… Perhaps something good could come out of this mess.

Of course, while he had considered the possibility that Maddie wouldn't get along well with the ghost dog, there was another scenario that he hadn't thought about. Because Maddie didn't reject the dog, didn't seem bothered by Cujo's presence – presumably her familiarity with his own ghost form helped.

No, it was far worse. Maddie and Cujo got along too well. Because cats, as anybody could tell you, were a menace. A lovable menace, but a pain nonetheless. Really, the last thing he needed was for his cat to make friends with a ghost.

Because if you thought that a regular cat could be a pain, well… One with access to ghost powers, even if indirectly, was far worse.

All things considered, it started fairly calm. Maddie kept tailing Vlad everywhere he went. This was normal – and kind of cute, honestly. She enjoyed his presence enough to seek him out, after all. After a lifetime of being avoided, being wanted was foreign to Vlad.

Of course, there were rooms that Maddie wasn't allowed inside of. Vlad would always close the door when he went there – Maddie didn't know how to open doors, after all.

He was in the lab. It was one of the few places where Maddie wasn't allowed to come, despite how much time he spent there. It was simply too dangerous. And, admittedly, working in the lab was a lot easier without a cat getting in his way.

Vlad turned away from his desk for a moment, papers spread all over. He just needed to grab some of his other research.

When he turned back, a fluffy white cat was lying on top of his notes.

"Maddie," he said, somewhat disgruntled and more than a little surprised. How had she gotten through his door? Even if she had learned how to open doors, his lab was hidden and therefore didn't have an actual door.

She meowed in response. He gave her a quick pat, muttering under his breath, "How did you even get here."

A yip from below him startled Vlad, and he backed away a step or two. And sitting there, next to the table, was that damnable ghost dog.

"Oh, of course." He sighed. The dog must've phased Maddie into the lab. "You're responsible for this, aren't you?"

The ghost wagged its tail, its mouth stretched in what had to be a doggy smile.

Vlad rolled his eyes, but turned away from the pair of pets again. He had work to do, and for the moment the lab was safe enough for Maddie. Maybe not for the dog, but it seemed that that animal would stick close to either him or Maddie anyway.

And if he had to shoo not one but two animals off of his desk when he turned back… Well, it wasn't like anybody would know, anyway.

The next time Vlad went to his lab, he activated his ghost shield. He really didn't want Maddie getting caught up in any experiments.

He thought it was very clever, until he came up a few hours later. There was toilet paper everywhere. Long strings of it, in many places shredded – apparently by both claws and fangs.

Now, Maddie had ravaged toilet paper before. But this had been easy enough to prevent – he just had to develop the habit of closing his bathroom doors. He hadn't considered that if Cujo could phase Maddie into his lab, then of course the dog could also phase Maddie into his bathrooms.

And apparently the dog had taken the effort of taking the toilet paper out through the closed doors, as well.

A quick inspection revealed that two of the doors had been opened. His third bathroom was still closed, and the damage of that toilet paper roll had been contained.

At least Maddie hadn't gotten stuck in any of the rooms, like he had feared. That dog was absolutely capable of phasing his cat into a room and then forgetting to take her out again.

Of course, moments later he saw Maddie sprint by, a trail of toilet paper following her. Three steps behind her came the half-expected green canine, as well.

Vlad wished, for a long moment, that he hadn't accepted Daniel's request. And then, with a heavy and world-weary sigh, he set out to clean up the mess.

But that hadn't been the end of it. Not even for that day. Because Vlad had sat down in his living room, intending to enjoy the peace and quiet of a nice evening to himself after a productive day.

Then Maddie meowed from one end of the room.

And then the dog – Cujo – answered with a bark from the other end of the room.

This repeated itself several times over – Maddie would meow and Cujo would bark – over and over and over.

In the end Vlad retreated to his lab to read his book. There would clearly be no peace and quiet for him as long as he was in the same room as the two animals.

Despite what people might expect from his billionaire status, Vlad always made his breakfast himself. In fact, he made most meals himself – he preferred to be alone and in peace. People were just so bothersome.

So he found himself sitting at his kitchen table with a simple breakfast in front of him. To his left, on the table, was Maddie. To his right, also on the table, was Cujo. Neither of the animals were allowed on the table, of course, but they apparently didn't care.

Vlad attempted to remove the dog, but the moment he looked away Maddie lunged for his breakfast. When he warded her off, Cujo struck instead. Disgruntled, he grabbed his breakfast and left, hoping that that would be last of that.

But that evening he was on the couch with his dinner. Maddie was on the couch next to him. He didn't know where Cujo was, and quite frankly, he didn't care.

Until a crashing sound came from a far room.

His eyes snapped in the direction of the sound immediately, and he pushed himself off of the couch to investigate. Then he heard a purring sound coming from behind him.

Whirling around, he spotted Maddie swiping his food. He waved the cat off, realizing that the two must've conspired to distract him – and against all odds, it had worked.

Unbelievable. He had been outsmarted by animals.

Maddie, having lost her opportunity, slunk off. Vlad didn't track where she went. Presumably she was off to meet up with the ghost dog again – or wherever she usually went to mope.

Shattering glass and a wailing cry – Maddie's.

Swearing, Vlad jumped off of the couch again. He strode in the direction her cry had come from – then paused. Turned around.

Sitting on the couch, eating his damn food, was Cujo. The stupid ghost didn't even need food – he was doing it just because he was a dog.

Vlad growled, pink ectoplasm sparking around his fists. Cujo seemed to get the message, because he whined and sprinted away – through a wall.

He didn't pursue – there was no point. Hopefully the animal had learned his lesson now.

Unlikely, but a man can hope, yes?

There were rules. Places where Maddie wasn't allowed to come. And she knew this, no matter how little she might've liked it. The lab, for one, was off-limits. His bedroom was another – he didn't want her to interrupt his sleep.

Yet somehow, during the night, his bed gained two small lumps of fur.

Vlad squinted at the two – Cujo gave off barely enough glow for him to see by. The dog was laying on the mattress itself, curled up like a regular dog. His eyes – empty and red like Vlad's own in ghost form – were narrowed but open. That made sense – ghosts didn't need to sleep. Cujo was simply playing along, or following old habits.

Next to him, on a spare pillow, laid Maddie. She did seem to be asleep, curled in on herself. She looked very comfortable, and Vlad regretted that he had to interrupt her sleep.

But neither of the animals could stay. He knew what cats were like – just because she was well-behaved now didn't mean it would last.

He scooped the cat off of the pillow, moving towards the door. A short glance – glare – at Cujo assured that the dog followed. Maddie meowed complaintive, but Vlad didn't let that sway him.

He dropped her outside his room, in the hall. Cujo padded past him, sitting down next to Maddie.

"You two stay out here," he told them, as if the animals would listen. "And, for the love of everything that is holy, stay out of trouble."

He closed the door behind him. Then, for good measure, he locked it as well. Just in case either of the pets would figure out how to open doors at some point during the night.

And with a tired sigh, he curled back into his bed.

It wasn't until several hours later, when he woke with a warm ball of fur pressed against his stomach and a cold one against his chest, that he remembered that doors were useless against these two.

Vlad had an important meeting he had to get to. He had to look impeccable – as put together as usual. Clean, well-made black suit and all. He grabbed his jacket, stuck one arm through the sleeve–

Paused. Took the jacket off again.

It was covered in white fur. This was, unfortunately, somewhat expected. The disadvantages of owning furry animals was that, somehow, their leftover hair would find its way everywhere throughout the house.

He rolled his eyes and flickered the jacket intangible. Maddie's white hairs fell through it and onto the floor. He would still have to clean it up, but at least they weren't on his suit anymore.

The jacket went back on. Vlad looked in the mirror, straightening the garment out and shooting his mirror image his best smile.

Then his smile dropped again.

Glowing hairs – green hairs – were scattered all over it. Of course – they were ectoplasmic in origin, and would therefore shift tangibility along with the jacket. But why would a ghost dog still shed its fur?

Vlad grumbled, brushing off the fur to the best of his abilities. Once he could find no more, he left the house. He had to hurry to his meeting, but that was preferable over showing up with green fur all over his coat.

The GIW were ruthless. And, as idiotic as they were, even they would be able to tell that the fur came from a ghost.

When he returned home, Vlad was, once again, exhausted. The GIW were quite possibly the most idiotic people he knew. Almost impossibly worse than Jack Fenton, even. Absolute morons that had somehow banded together in a group even more moronic than the individuals were.

But they possessed potential. Had some brilliant inventions hidden between their FentonWorks rip-offs. And sometimes they got lucky.

And oftentimes they targeted Daniel. Which he had to carefully encourage, but not too much – they could be allowed to hunt the boy, but not hurt him. Not too badly at least. Just like Skulker.

Of course, unlike Skulker, he couldn't tell the GIW this. He had to nudge them in the right direction.

Either way, he returned home tired. He just wanted to slump down on his couch and enjoy his peace. Perhaps pet his cat if she could be found – if that darned dog hadn't stolen her away to cause mischief.

Unfortunately, the home that awaited him wasn't nice. It wasn't clean or peaceful or any the things he had hoped for.

Things were scattered everywhere. Most of them had been broken – shards of vases and glassware and lord knows what else laid strewn around him. Even the things that weren't as easily destroyed had clearly been damaged – clawed gouges and bite marks could be spotted.

Bite marks which very clearly weren't Maddie's.

That, combined with the fact that many of the things laying broken on his floor had been inaccessible to his cat, led Vlad to realize this; the dog had, once again, struck. Cujo had worked together with Maddie to not only phase her into locked and closer rooms, but to help her reach higher areas she couldn't normally get to.

Vlad would've said that the ghost flew her up, but he admittedly had never seen Cujo fly. But somehow he must've boosted Maddie up – or gotten up high himself – because Vlad knew that some of these things had been stored out of reach.

He swore loudly, kicking away some of shards of what appeared to be a glass case. A sharp yip sounded from a few rooms away. It was immediately followed by a meow.

Cujo phased through the wall, Maddie somehow perched on his back. They wandered over to him, blinking large eyes.

Those stupid animals. Why on Earth had he listened to Daniel? Why had he agreed to take in this demonic ghostly canine?

Suddenly Valerie's hatred made a lot more sense to him.

Vlad woke up tired. He had been woken at some point in the dead of night by Maddie and Cujo. They hadn't come into his room, but apparently that wasn't necessary for them to be a bother.

By the sounds of it, Maddie had gotten a playful bout of energy somewhere near 3 in the morning. Cujo, as a ghost who didn't need sleep, had happily played with her.

Unfortunately, this hadn't been very quiet.

So, yes. Vlad woke up exhausted. He dreaded the next day – he had nothing planned, but still. He was a billionaire and he was a mayor. He couldn't take a day off just because his pets – his singular pet and the one he was babysitting – were a nuisance.

And thus he found himself in his living room with a cup of coffee. With a cup of very strong coffee. Sue him, he needed it. Deserved it for putting up with that ghostly canine wrecking ball.

He was, admittedly, considering contacting Daniel to get rid of it again. He hadn't anticipated how much trouble the dog would get into. How it would sway Maddie to its side.

If he gave in, he would lose his favor over Daniel. But was that really worth all this suffering?

The doorbell rang. It startled Vlad so badly that he almost spilled coffee over himself. Cursing under his breath, he put the mug away and started making his way to the door.

He hadn't even made it to the hall when the door slammed open. Three men in impeccable white suits stormed inside – all carrying large ecto-weaponry.

"What's the meaning of this?" he snarled at them, stamping down his temper to the best of his abilities. As exhausted as he was, he had almost given in to the urge to flash his eyes red. Like a child. Like Daniel.

One of the guns turned to him. The other two peeked into the room past him. He wondered why they had come. It couldn't be that they suspected him of being a ghost – if they had, more than one gun would've been aimed at him.

"We're running an investigation on you and your properties, sir," the man in the front answered. His gun was still aimed at Vlad, unwavering.

Vlad got a nasty flashback to the time when Daniel had sent the GIW to his Wisconsin mansion. It had been part of their prank war – a low point in Vlad's life, he had to admit. But that couldn't be why they were here now. Daniel wouldn't have called in the GIW if that ghost dog was still around.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" he asked instead, resisted the urge to sneer at the man. Instead he straightened himself out, standing as tall as possible. He had to maintain as much of a stronghold as he could – he couldn't rely on his ghost powers in this situation.

"We don't need to answer that." One of the men had moved past Vlad, carelessly aiming his gun at everything and nothing. "But we have reasonable proof that you are being haunted by a ghost. One, if not more. It is our job to hunt ghosts."

Vlad shook his head. "Nonsense. Where did you even get such a foolish idea from?"

The third man, the one who hadn't spoken yet, snorted. Then he flung an arm in Vlad's direction. He dodged by reflex, but the man hadn't been aiming for him.

Between his fingers he held a single hair. Green and glowing.

Of course. Of course it would be that cursed dog that screwed things over for him. He should've known.

He opened his mouth to defend himself, but the whine of a charging ecto-gun shut him up. The man who had passed him had turned around again, his gun now also aimed at Vlad. Even the one that held the hair had his gun in Vlad's direction.

"So perhaps there is a ghost in my house," he finally uttered, putting on an unconcerned facade. "But surely there is no need to aim these weapons at me?"

"Maybe not," the first man conceded with a slight tilt of his head. "But you kept its presence hidden from us. You, Vlad Masters, have no reason to do so." The gun in his hand gave a whine as it, too, charged up a shot. "Therefore you must be overshadowed, or otherwise influenced by a ghost."

Well, he supposed that they were mostly right. He was influenced by a ghost. Daniel had, more or less, forced him into taking care of the ghostly canine.

But now he was surrounded by three charging ecto-guns, scrambling to find an excuse. Because if they fired, they would notice that the guns had effect – and that meant that a ghost was involved. And that would lead to them digging and finding Vlad Plasmius – finding half-ghosts in general.

Before Vlad could act, however, a sharp bark came from the hallway deeper into the mansion. Four heads swiveled in that direction.

Standing there was a small green dog. Cujo's aura flickered. Flared.

Then suddenly the dog wasn't so small anymore.

The new ghost was enormous. It towered over Vlad – would've towered over Jack Fenton, even, the largest man Vlad knew. Its red eyes glowed with anger, the spikes on its collar glinting dangerously in the light.

It growled, baring teeth larger than Vlad's hand. Then it barked again, far louder this time. The sound echoed throughout the room, drowning out the noise of the charging guns.

And then Cujo leaped. Stormed right into Vlad's direction – and towards the GIW agents that surrounded him.

A squeak from Vlad's right, then a clatter as the gun hit the floor. One of the agents fled the scene, leaving his weapon behind.

The other two followed soon after, although they had at least held onto their guns.

Cujo chased them to the door, then stopped. Watched, as if he was making sure that the three wouldn't return. Then he turned back to Vlad.

The dog towered over Vlad. Briefly, he wondered if Daniel knew the dog could do this. Then he remembered that Daniel had named it Cujo – a name that suddenly seemed a lot more appropriate.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when an enormous purple tongue swept over him. He grimaced, attempting to wipe the worst of the drool off of him.

"Thanks," he muttered. The dog barked, seemingly more happy. Then with a pop, Cujo returned to his old size.

Vlad supposed that maybe (maybe) this dog wasn't all that bad.

A glance around the room reminded him of the damage it had caused the previous day.

Even so, he was more than ready for Daniel to return to pick the walking disaster up again.