Author's Note: This is a complete fluff piece that I wrote in the waiting room of a South African hospital (don't ask, long story). It would mean the world to me if you would take the time to let me know what you think (I love compliments and also appreciate constructive criticism)! Thanks to SkewedReality for mentoring me. As with anything on this website, I do not own Glee nor the characters involved. This story does not necessarily reflect the sexuality/relationship of Rory Flanagan and Sam Evans (we can only dream) or the actors who portray them. Enjoy! :)
The door to the barn swung open, letting a wide beam of butter-yellow sunlight bleach the straw-covered floor.
"Here it is, Mr. Hillridge," said a middle-aged farmer as he led the way into the large building. "I'm sure Lucy can find a friend in here."
Mr. Hillridge nodded distractedly, typing furiously on his Blackberry. His daughter Lucy, on the other hand, buzzed with excitement.
"You wanted a puppy, right?"
"Obviously!"
The farmer walked along one side of the barn, passing several pens. Scratching at the stubble on his jowl, the man stopped in front of the very last one.
"Can you see inside alright, kid? Okay, these are two of the newer little rascals."
"Awwww…" Lucy giggled.
A tiny golden retriever sat on his haunches, yawning and pawing at an itchy ear. The farmer whistled through his teeth and the puppy looked up to eye the large man cautiously.
"This is Sammy…he's a good ole' boy."
The blond dog backed up on tiny paws, narrowing its eyes. A thin pink tongue poked out to lick his black lips and nose.
"Where's the other one?" Lucy demanded.
The farmer pointed to the far corner, just behind Sammy. "That one there's what we call a Wicklow Terrier. Irish breed. His name's Rory."
Lucy peeked around the golden retriever to see the cutest little puppy she had ever seen. His coat was sleek and walnut brown and his eyes twinkled a remarkable blue.
"I want him!" Lucy exclaimed.
The farmer chuckled and unlatched the door, ushering Lucy into the spacious pen. Mr. Hillridge had put away his phone and followed his daughter, treading carefully for fear of soiling his expensive leather shoes.
"I want Rory, Daddy. Will you buy him for me?"
The man reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a leather-bound checkbook. "How much?"
"I'm not one to say no to a paycheck," the farmer said, "but first we should make sure the pup takes to your kid."
Mr. Hillridge frowned down at his flashy watch. "Make it quick, Lucy."
Sammy the golden retriever had been watching the proceedings suspiciously, but now took a defensive stance as the eager girl approached—treading slowly on purpose, to annoy her father.
As she reached out grabby hands that were used to getting what they wanted, Sammy noticed that she was reaching for Rory.
'No,' he growled, 'not my Rory!'
Rory had now taken notice of the looming girl and curled himself further into the corner. 'Sammy?' the little puppy piped.
Sammy stared the girl down and pulled back his lips from a set of white teeth. 'You will not touch him,' the blond dog barked.
The girl stopped in her tracks for a moment before smiling. "You're so cute!" She grinned back at her father and continued towards the terrier.
Rory felt hopeless. What was he supposed to do? He was only a puppy, after all—not yet a month old. He couldn't be taken away from his Sammy!
'Sammy, you're bigger than I am. You have to help me!' Rory whimpered.
The golden retriever gnashed his teeth. 'You will not touch my Rory!'
Realizing that the girl didn't understand him, Sammy decided he had to make his point known another way.
He took a resolute step towards the girl and bared his teeth, letting out a deep-throated growl. 'Go away!'
"Uh, sweetheart, I think you may want to back off," the farmer cautioned.
"No way!" Lucy said, glaring at the blond puppy. "He's just being stupid."
"Just grab the one you want," Mr. Hillridge said. "We have to leave."
She nodded and took another step forward. Rory whined worriedly and Sammy yipped sharply, terrified that the little terrier would be taken away from him.
"Stop!" All eyes turned to the entrance of the pen. A lanky-limbed girl with braided hair looked to be in a panic. "Dad, don't let them take Rory!"
"Susanna, let's talk about this later."
"No, Dad. You haven't been taking care of them for the past weeks…I have. And I know that they cannot be separated." The bold girl stalked into the pen and brushed past Lucy, stopping in front of her.
Lucy was looking at the farm-girl with distain when her cell phone began to ring. Extracting it from her pocket, Lucy gaped when she read the text message.
"Daddy, Vivienne Monroe just got a cockatoo. I don't want a puppy, anymore. Can I get a cockatoo…whatever that is."
Mr. Hillridge rolled his eyes and turned to the farmer. "I don't suppose you've got any of those here?"
"No, sir."
"Well, it's been great. Come on, Lucy."
The wealthy father and daughter left the barn to go search for a cockatoo, while the farmer turned to face his own daughter. "Hundreds of dollars, Susanna...the guy would have paid thousands if I'd have asked!"
"I'll work it off…take up some extra chores or something. But please let me keep them, Dad. Please!"
The farmer sighed and groaned. "Alright, alright...have your puppies."
Susanna whooped and then started laughing. She turned her father around. "See, Dad?"
Rory was but a small ball of fur in the corner and Sammy had laid down next to him, protecting him. Their eyes were closed and their breathing was soft. They were together.