This was written as a response to the DF Kink Meme (found on dreamwidth) prompt: Inspired by the line:- "You have to admit, Harry's life would have been simpler as a dog." Harry really is a dog. In fact, he's Marcone's dog. And when Marcone got tangled up with the hexenwolf and the other werewolves? Someone (Lea, another fae, or Terra) turned him human, and he gets stuck that way. Now Harry has to learn how to act human after being a dog all his life.
Hendricks was used to walking into John's office and seeing his boss with one hand buried in Harry's fur, scratching the dog's ears whilst he rested his head on John's thigh, tongue hanging out.
John had picked the dog up off the street about ten years ago, when he was a skinny, flea bitten mutt with several broken ribs, a fractured back right leg, and a torn ear. Even injured as it was, the dog had still growled, baring blood soaked teeth in a vicious snarl when John approached it. Hendricks had never figured out what it was that John saw in the stray that night, and had said as much, but John had never given him a real answer. He'd just taken the dog in, coaxing him out with food and then getting him to a vet to get fixed up before taking him home.
Nearly ten years later, that flea bitten mutt had a full, shining black coat of fur and his shoulders came up to Hendricks' waist, but underneath all the fluff he was still skinny, just not dangerously so as he had been before. He never seemed to put on any weight no matter how much they fed him. And they fed him a lot; he was like a living vacuum cleaner. All you had to do was mention the word 'food' and he'd come running.
As a human, Harry was just as tall and just as skinny. But walking into the office and seeing John with his hand buried in Harry's hair, while Harry knelt on the floor at John's feet with his head on John's thigh—that was a little weird. Hendricks supposed he should at least be grateful that a) Harry didn't have his tongue hanging out, and b) he was wearing clothes. It had taken far too long, in Hendricks opinion, for Harry to learn that he did have to put clothes on in the morning and that wandering around naked was not appreciated by anybody.
Suppressing a sigh, Hendricks went over to John's desk, looking down at Harry. Harry looked up and grinned at him, showing his teeth in a smile that looked creepier on a human than it did on a dog, and pulled his head away from John to nudge it against Hendricks' hand, clearly looking for the pat on the head he normally got from the hulking red-head.
Hendricks didn't oblige.
"Boss," he said, infusing that one word with all the disapproval he felt. They were supposed to be encouraging Harry to act more human.
"Mr Hendricks," John replied lightly, ignoring all of Hendricks' unspoken words.
Harry growled and nudged Hendricks' hand again.
"John," Hendricks tried again.
Before John could reply, Harry spoke in his low, growling voice. "Pet me, damnit."
Hendricks looked down at him in surprise. Harry blinked at him. John's lips twitched.
"Perhaps you'd better oblige him," John suggested. "We don't want an incident like last time."
As a dog, Harry had had a few notable... abilities. Namely being able to break anything electronic just by barking at it, and an unnerving skill at surviving fires, which seemed to spring up unnaturally often around him. Hendricks found himself only mildly surprised when Harry showed magical powers as a human, even if magic was a concept he was still getting used to. Mostly, he'd been too busy trying to figure out how the fuck the estate house had managed to turn into a blazing inferno in the space of a few seconds. One minute he'd been heading up the stairs to investigate the noises coming from John's bedroom, the next he'd been desperately trying to outrun the searing hot flames that came tearing down the staircase.
By the time the fire-fighters arrived, the house was in ruins and the fire had spread to the garden. By some miracle, only one person had died; a couple of the Outfit members now had some nasty burn scars, but on the whole most of the injuries had been relatively minor. John and Harry, despite being at the very centre of it, had come out with only mild smoke inhalation. As John told it, they had been protected from the heat and flames by an invisible bubble, likely of Harry's doing, though as Harry himself wouldn't say they were only guessing.
Since then, John had given up trying to convince Harry to sleep in his own bed instead of curled at the end of John's.
Hendricks sighed and lifted his hand to Harry's head, petting him a couple of times until he made a pleased noise. Satisfied, Harry grinned at him again before returning his head to John's thigh, closing his eyes as John resumed stroking his hair.
"Time, Mr Hendricks," John said, finally responding to Hendricks' earlier concerns. "He'll learn eventually."
Hendricks took in the affectionate look on his boss's face and the collar that was still wrapped around Harry's throat, and not for the first time he silently wondered if John enjoyed having a human pet as much as he liked having a dog.
He left them to it and went to his own desk, flipping open his laptop and firing it up. "Just bribe him with food," he suggested. "It worked when he was a dog."
John's lips quirked but he made a thoughtful noise, and Hendricks considered it a step in the right direction. Whether John liked it or not, Harry would need to be trained out of his doggish ways. John's clients and business rivals may not have minded a monster-sized ball of fluff listening in on their conversations, but they would probably object when it was a skinny human who didn't censor his words before they left his mouth.
At Hendricks' words, Harry perked up, peering over John's desk to stare hopefully at Hendricks. "Food?"
John's full throated laughter filled the room, and Hendricks resisted the urge to face palm. Clearly some things would never change.
