[[Happy Dalston Week!

Disclaimer: I don't own Dalston, but Dalston owns his dog.

Set: How long do blue satanic looking dogs usually live for...? We'll say this is set a few years before the events of MM. So obviously Dalston has only been a hotel owner for a short while.

Spoilers: None.]]

One Dalston and His Dog

"Not a single guest in six months," Alphonse Dalston sighed, holding his head in his hands. Granted, he didn't expect tourists to come flooding into the desert town of Monte d'Or, but one patron would've been appreciated... The last bunch to stay at his hotel had been some pesky archaeology students investigating the Akbadain Ruins. And they hadn't even left their rooms tidy— cheeky brats! (Why was it always archaeology-crazed kids who ticked him off?)

The young businessman's butler, Gonzales hummed as he polished candelabras in the chateau parlour. "Perhaps it is due to the lack of amenities Monte d'Or has to offer? Though surely with time the town's prestige will flourish—"

"Bet they're all having a party at the Reunion Inn," Dalston muttered, cutting off Gonzales' consoling. "It's that rotten Henry Ledore stealing my guests..." (Gonzales continued to nod absently at his complaints.) "If it wasn't enough that weedy bloke pocketed Ascot's fortune and married Angela, now he's stooped low enough to try to sabotage my business. Yesterday I found some overturned rubbish bins outside my property!"

Gonzales froze; it seemed his secret had been discovered. "A-actually, Mr Ledore may not have been the one responsible..." he stuttered.

Dalston twiddled his moustache. "How can you be sure?"

"I'm m-merely suggesting there might possibly be s-someone else behind it..." The butler flapped his hands around in a telltale sign of guilt and panic.

"Gonzales..." Dalston frowned.

"Alright, alright!" Gonzales eventually admitted, "It c-could have something to do with the b-beast running rampant outside the hotel!"

"What in the world...? You didn't tell me anything about a 'beast'."

His servant shuddered. "I f-feared you would m-make me take care of it."

Dalston rolled his eyes, leaving the comfort of his leather sofa. "Come on, you old muppet. Show me exactly where this scary beast is."

Tentatively, Gonzales led him to the site of the tipped trash cans outside Dalston's hotel. Litter tarnished the building's front lawn— no tourists would be attracted here. Pointing to the trash cans, Gonzales recalled with a quiver, "I just came to empty the rubbish the other day, but when I put my hand inside the bin something b-bit me! I was so startled that I dropped the rubbish. Please forgive me, Mr Dalston!"

"Stop snivelling, Gonzales," Dalston peered at the piles of debris. "What happened to the—?"

Suddenly, growling emanated from one of the bins. A small furious ball of blue fur burst out of the garbage, barring its teeth to those who dared invade its territory.

"Pfffft," Dalston snorted at the dirty puppy before him. "That's your beast? Har har har!"

"D-don't be fooled, Mr Dalston," Gonzales warned. "It's more d-dangerous than it looks."

"Yeah, right! He's just a pup!" Dalston got down on one knee and extended his arm to the animal. "C'mere, c'mere, little fella. We won't hurt you..." He smiled when the puppy cautiously came to sniff his fingers. "See, he's friendly—" But then the puppy bit him. "Fuuuu—!" Dalston shook his stinging hand, biting his tongue.

Ignoring Gonzales' yelps of concern, he picked the mutt up by the scruff of its neck. The dog growled and squirmed, but went silent when Dalston stared it dead in the eyes. "Oi, you do NOT bite me," Dalston scolded. "Understand?" The puppy whimpered pitifully. (Dalston took that as a 'Yes, Sir'.) He patted its head. "There we go, good dog... Gonzales, chuck me your apron. "

Not needing to be told twice, Gonzales passed him the white apron from around his waist. Dalston wrapped the puppy into a safe bundle— partly for his own protection— and tucked it under his arm. "Right, Gonzales, you get this mess cleaned up while I go home and give Prince a bath."

"Prince...?" Gonzales echoed in confusion.

"Yeah, that's his name now: Prince Azure Dalston. Has a fancy ring to it, if I do say so myself." Dalston cooed to the dog, "Isn't that right, Prince? How do you feel about being the first guest at Chateau Dalston?"

The butler paled when Prince's piercing gaze fell on him. "Y-you can't honestly be considering bringing that... that little beast back to the house!"

"We can't leave the tyke running around here, can we?" Dalston smiled fondly. "All he needs is a stern talking to. When you get past his tough demeanour you can tell he's just a big softie." After a minute Dalston glared at Gonzales, back to his usual no-nonsense self. "What are you waiting for, Gonzales? Get cracking clearing this rubbish!"

Dalston didn't hear Gonzales' long winded sigh as he went on his way home, cradling his new pet puppy. With a bit of training Prince could grow into a great guard dog and Dalston could take him for walks past the Ledore Manor every day. Angela would probably adore Prince. As for Henry...Well, he could pick up the 'gifts' Prince left in his front garden!