Author's Note: This is just a recap of the summary. A series of one-shots that span the time period between the end of Severed and the beginning of the sequel and will be posted in no particular order. Story lengths will vary. Translation: Don't try to make order out of this chaos. Hope you enjoy, lol!


Allen Schezar vs. Hell Hound, Round One: Fight!

It had been a while since Allen had brought a woman home. He hadn't had much of a chance to do it during the war, and now, with the kids, it was inappropriate. What sort of an example would that set for Celena to see her older brother bedding random women he had no plans of marrying? It might be a good example for Dilandau, but Allen wasn't going to think about that particular situation for a while. He would deal with the present, which was the warm body sleeping beside him. Allen ran slim fingers through her long, soft hair. From the texture of her hair, he knew it wasn't Camilla or Shandra. He moved closer to sniff her perfume and frowned as he was attacked by body hair. It seemed to pierce through his silk pajamas, making his skin crawl. Good Lord, this woman certainly wasn't Vanessa or Caroline either.

A good whiff of her made Allen recoil. Whew!

Who–or rather what– had he allowed into his bed? Come to think of it, he didn't recall going on a date that night, and he hadn't let in any midnight visitors. In fact, no women had come to call on Allen in a long time. So, who was this and how did she get in? From the smell of her, she must have broken in, some poor, unwashed ragamuffin coming in out of the cold. Allen could certainly sympathize with her situation, but to crawl into his bed with him was inexcusable.

"All right, Miss," Allen began, his voice rough with sleep. He cleared his throat. "I don't know who you are, but when I count to three, I want you out of my bed and against the wall. You may take the top blanket to wrap around yourself." Allen shuddered. The woman was surely naked and he had no desire to see such a hairy body.

"One... two... N-now see here!" Something long and wet smacked him in the face and massaged itself against his jaw. It was hot and stank of rotting meat and vegetation. The breath on his face smelled no better. This woman was ill. Allen sprang into a sitting position and reached over to turn the key on the lantern beside the bed.

"Rowf!" She yelled, though it was more like a bark. A bark?

"Rowf, rowf, rowf!"

The flame in the lantern sprang to life as Allen clapped his hands over his ears. There was heavy panting as the body in the bed shifted, moving toward him so fast Allen didn't have time to move. He sprawled on his back with a large, shaggy monster's claws on his chest baring a mouth full of jagged teeth.

Allen screamed and it howled, then licked him, again.

"Rowf!"

There was a dog in his bed, a big nasty, smelly, muddy dog.

Doors down the hall slammed open. Footsteps pounded against the floor. Someone crashed into the end table against the wall next to his room. The door flew open, banging into the wall and bringing a framed portrait of Great Aunt Constance crashing to the floor.

Dilandau and Celena stood in their night clothes, wild and sleep rumpled, brandishing long swords. They turned back to back, ready for marauders to jump at them from all angles.

"Rowf!"

"What the– " Dilandau nearly dropped his sword on his foot.

"Migs!" Celena tossed her sword aside, Allen grimaced at that, and spread her arms open wide.

The sheep dog on Allen's chest wagged its stubby tail and leaped clear across the bed, bounding to his sister. Dilandau jumped out of the way, giving Celena and the dog a wide berth.

Allen sat up, staring at Celena, who was on the floor hugging and kissing the dog monster. Her gray undershirt and cotton pants were getting soiled with mud as were her hands, face, feet and hair. Allen touched his own saliva sticky cheek and pulled a clump of mud from his hair. His eye twitched.

"Celena!"

Celena and the monster looked up at Allen. Celena smiled. "You met Migs. Isn't he cute? He's such a good puppy."

Puppy?

"Celena," Allen got out of bed, " why is this dog in the house and more importantly, why was it in my bed?" Gentlemen didn't shout, they raised their voices.

Celena stared at him, lips trembling. Allen narrowed his eyes and glanced at Dilandau who was looking anywhere but at Allen, the corners of his mouth jerking.

"I swear to gods if you two are laughing at me..."

That did it. The twins roared and the dog wagged its tail.

"You–you have mud on your teeth!" Dilandau gasped.

"And you've got a paw print on your crotch!" Celena choked.

Allen's eyes widened. He ran a thumb over his front teeth, noting that they didn't feel as smooth as they usually did. Brown mud stained the back of his thumb. He gazed down at the ruined blue silk of his night trousers. He couldn't say much for the shirt either. Black and brown paw prints spotted his ensemble like a jungle design.

He padded across the wooden floor to stand over Celena and the monster with hands on his hips. "Do you see a smile on my face? Why is there a dog in my room?"

"He got out of mine." Celena shrugged.

"Where'd you find him?" Dilandau asked. He set his sword against Aunt Constance's shattered frame, careful to avoid the broken glass on the floor. He inspected the dog from afar like a land dragon that hadn't been sealed properly yet. He was the only one in the room not covered in mud, his white undershirt and red silk pants pristine.

"Near the creek," Celena said absently.

"In the gutter," Dilandau challenged.

Celena shrugged again. "Maybe he was more near the gutter."

"Celena, you brought a gutter rat into Mother's house?" Allen couldn't believe it. Actually, he could believe it, he just didn't want to. "How long has it been here?" Allen didn't think it was possible for something that size to be noiseless enough to have been there for more than a few hours.

"I brought him in tonight, made him a pallet next to my bed."

"Looks like he prefers mattresses," Dilandau said with a chuckle. He winked at Allen, when he glared. One day, Dilandau was going to get his for teasing Allen.

"Well, I would have given him yours, but you were drooling on it," Celena said, offering Dilandau a smirk.

"That mutt touches my mattress and it's sausage."

"You don't make sausage out of dog."

"You make sausage out of any animal bit. You meat-eaters should really research what you're eating," Dilandau said with an almost sweet smile. His silver hair offset by the dim lantern light glimmered like a false halo. The red eyes said it all.

Allen cleared his throat. "Why are we talking about this animal like it's going to be here long enough to touch anyone else's mattress?"

"Aw come on, Len, have a heart. Migs has no where to go, and he's only a baby. He needs people to take care of him."

"People?" Dilandau asked. "I hate dogs."

"You never had one!"

"Because I hate them."

"You never had a boyfriend, but you don't hate Van."

"Don't compare Van to this mutt. At least Van's house broken. This mutt's gonna chew up everything and crap everywhere."

"I'll train him and put down paper. Plenty of people keep big dogs around and sometimes you can't even tell they have em'."

"Well, everyone will know we have this one. What the hell's it been rolling around in? It smells like..."

"Well, I did find him in the gutter."

Allen stared as the twins left his room, the dog following after them, tag wagging. He hadn't been able to get a word in edgewise, which wasn't unusual. He didn't run this house, those kids did. He heard something break further on down the hall.

"Aw Migs!"

"I can't believe you named it after Miguel."

"He'll love him!"

"Yeah, like peasants love taxes."

Laughter and barking, loud barking.

Allen fingered his dirty pajamas and glanced back at his filthy bed. His once blue and white bedspread was brown and gray, his white sheets were a lost cause, shredded by doggy toenails. He spat at the taste of mud in his mouth and ran a hand through his hair only to get dirt clods in his nails.

The door to his room crashed open again and the monster dog ran at his bed full speed, bouncing onto it and walking around in a circle. It laid down, curling around itself.

Allen scowled.

He'd shared his bed with a dog.

The monsters raised its head and stared at Allen. "Rowf!"

Allen wrinkled his nose. He could fight the dog for the filthy bed, or take a bath and sleep on the couch. The couch was sounding better and better, but Allen couldn't believe he was giving up his bed to a dog. Actually, he could believe it, he just didn't want to.

Gentlemen didn't curse, they used their words.

"Damn mutt!"

Hell Brat's Hell Hound: 1, Allen: 0.