"Zingo! Come on, girl! Come on!"
Nothing.
The dog looks up at John with unimpressed grey eyes from where she's lying on the floor, chin resting on her two front paws.
"You wanna go to the park? Wanna go for a walk?"
Zingo huffs, and John closes his eyes in frustration. When he agreed to dogsit for Lorna and Marcos, this was not what he had in mind. The past three days have been a constant battle of wit and stubbornness between John and his best friends' dog, and he still had four days left. He thought it would be an easy way to make a few bucks—feed her, give her water, take her for walks. But, as it quickly turned out, it was a bit more push-and-shove than he expected.
John tugs at the leash again. Zingo lets out a miffed half-whine, half-growl noise and at this point John has just about had it. He wants to call Lorna and say "Your dog is my worst nightmare and I need you to come home and take her back right now," but he doesn't want to interrupt the honeymoon. Right now, though, this dog is really pushing him to the limit.
"What is your problem?" he demands, looking at the dog. She stares back up at him with a bored expression. John sighs and runs a hand over his face, and then his eyes settle on the green toy that's dangling off the side of the couch. He shakes his head. This better work. "What if we bring this? Hm?" he asks, crossing the floor and grabbing the toy. Almost immediately, Zingo perks up. She lifts her head from her paws and her ears twitch and it would probably be adorable if she wasn't so infuriating. John mentally pats himself on the back.
"Well, come on," he says, holding out the toy as he backs up toward the door. Zingo launches to her feet and trots toward him, tags jingling, and John lets out a sigh of relief. Finally. "Good girl," he says. He reaches out to scratch behind her ears, but she dodges him and heads toward the door on her own, stopping to look back at him impatiently as if he's the one who's been making her wait.
This dog is going to be the death of him.
Thankfully, the park is only a few blocks from John's apartment complex. Unfortunately, the would-be-two-minute walk becomes a nearly-ten-minute walk, because Zingo keeps dropping her toy. John would just pick it up and carry it for her, but every time he reaches for the green thing, the dog growls at his hand. Honestly, it's embarrassing. He just can't win.
Somehow they make it to the park without killing each other, and John decides it's cause for celebration. His personal reward?
Sitting down.
He finds a bench along the path that runs through the park, one with a tree growing directly over it. The long limbs provide shade from the mid-July sun, and John lets out a long breath as he sits. Zingo, stubborn as ever, walks until her leash is stretched as far as it can go in order to be as far away from John as possible. She drops her toy on the pavement and sits protectively behind it, tongue out as she pants and observes the surrounding area.
A mother pushing a baby carriage with two infants strolls past. A 50-something-year-old guy jogs by with classic rock music blasting from his earbuds. A couple walks in front of the bench, hands interlaced and giggling to each other the whole time.
John averts his gaze back to Zingo. She's cute when she's not being a pain in the ass, with her floppy ears and grey eyes. He's always been good with animals. He just doesn't understand why he and Zingo don't get along.
Speak of the devil. John is suddenly graced by the presence of the dog as she trots over to settle beside the bench. This is an improvement, he thinks to himself. Then he sees that she left her toy in the middle of the path, and he sighs in annoyance. "Do I really have to keep picking up after you?" he turns to face the dog. She cocks her head to one side, whining in confusion. John shakes his head. "Guess so."
Slowly, he stands up from the bench and stretches. Damn, he's tired. He takes a few steps forward, about to reach for the toy, when a frantic voice calls, "Watch it!"
Reflexes quick as ever, John manages to leap backward just as a jogging woman strides toward him. Unfortunately, she swerved in order to avoid him, and lets out a yelp as she trips over Zingo's toy. She staggers, and the woman nearly wipes out before she manages to regain her balance. John watches in equal parts awe and horror. He's impressed that she managed to save herself, hence the awe. She appears to have collected herself now, and she turns around so quickly that she must've gotten whiplash. She looks angry.
Hence the horror.
"What the hell was that?" the woman demands, storming over toward John. A few people have stopped to stare. As she gets closer, John realizes that she's probably about his age. She's dressed in a loose-fitting tank top and capri-length jogging pants. Her hair is a dark shade of purple, and her features are Asian. She's pretty.
"I'm so sorry," John says quickly. Her glare is terrifying. "I wasn't paying attention."
"Clearly you weren't paying attention," she says, rolling her eyes. They're hazel, though more green than brown. Definitely uncommon, definitely unique. "I almost wiped out back there."
"Are you okay?" John asks, honestly concerned.
"I'm fine," she replies, annoyance still lacing the edge of her voice. Their conversation is interrupted by a whimper, and the two young adults turn to see Zingo looking up at them, a pitiful look in her eyes. John notices the woman's face soften as her gaze lands on the dog, and a hint of a smile graces her lips. "This is your dog?" she asks.
"I, uh... kind of?" John says with a frown, rubbing the back of his neck. "She belongs to my best friends. I'm just watching her while they're on honeymoon."
He's not sure if she even heard him though, because she's already crouched down in front of Zingo, scratching the dog's chin and the top of her head. And then John remembers—the toy.
"Shit," he mutters, turning to the path. This time he looks both ways before crossing, and quickly reaches down to grab the toy. The poor thing is completely caved in from where the woman stepped on it.
When he turns to head back to the bench, the woman is watching him. She quickly turns away, focusing her attention back on the dog. When he finally gets closer, she stands up and crosses her arms, glancing at the squashed rubber in his hand. John looks at her, eyebrows arched, and holds up the toy. "This was her favorite, you know."
The woman grimaces, looking at Zingo apologetically. "Ooh. Sorry." The dog whines. Then the woman turns back to John. "You know, I really wouldn't have demolished her toy if you hadn't gone barging into the path like a madman."
"Okay," John says defensively, "I told you I'm sorry."
She sighs, scratches Zingo behind the ears once more, and then turns back toward John. "I think I know you," she says abruptly.
"Huh?" He's never seen this woman in his life.
She nods. "Yeah. You're in the apartment complex a few blocks away, right?" She shakes her head. "I just moved in there about a week ago. I'm pretty sure it's you that I've seen."
"Probably," John finally says, nodding. She doesn't exactly seem like a threat or a stalker, and he does remember a few moving trucks pulling in recently.
The woman nods before sticking out her hand. "I'm Clarice."
Clarice. Uncommon name, but John supposes it suits her, what with her purple hair and greenish eyes. All uncommon. "John," he says in response, gripping her hand with his own. "And I apologize again."
Clarice shrugs. "I mean, I'm not injured. Plus, I feel bad for murdering your dog's toy. I hope she can forgive me."
However, almost as soon as Clarice is finished speaking, Zingo is nudging her hand with her nose. Clarice smiles and turns to face the dog, bending down once more to pat her. John glares at Zingo. How is this even fair? She gives him hell for days, and then becomes a lovebug at the first stranger to talk to her? A stranger that just trampled her favorite toy?
This dog.
"I was actually about to leave," John says. Then, deciding to be bold, "She's super stubborn and doesn't do much for me, so I was planning on heading back to the complex. You should walk with us."
He makes the offer partly because he feels guilty for causing her to trip, partly because he has a feeling that Zingo will cooperate with Clarice around, and partly because she's very pretty and Lorna and Marcos have been trying to push him back into the dating scene after the situation with Sonia and so maybe this could be his chance.
Clarice smiles. "Uh, yeah, sure. My run kinda got interrupted and I was almost done anyway, so I might as well just head back."
"Again, I'm really sorry," John says as he reaches for Zingo's leash. He has to admit, he's embarrassed. This girl must think he's dumb, or oblivious, or probably both.
"It's honestly not a big deal," Clarice reassure him. "Nobody was really harmed or anything. Well, except for the toy." Cue whine from Zingo. "What's her name, anyway?" Clarice asks as the three of them begin to walk.
John mouth twitches slightly upward. "Zingo," he tells her, and Clarice's smile grows. She has a nice smile.
"Zingo," Clarice repeats, and the dog looks up at her and John swears it looks like the she's smiling. What the hell. Then Clarice lifts her gaze back up to John, and her eyes are sparkling. "I like it."
John smiles back at her. He does, too.
Buh-dum-tss.
I've come to the conclusion that I literally cannot keep up with canon alone, so I wrote up a dose of AU to help me get through the writing of my other stuff. Sorry if it was kind of rough, I'm still trying to get back into this whole writing thing. I'll probably make this particular story into two or three parts or something; short and sweet, right? Ugh, I ship these two so hard.
But yeah, I hope you enjoyed! Follow and/or leave a review if you want!