Dear Kryptoltunderdog: Oh my gosh! This is my favorite kind of story to write, actually; I am most inspired by the ones that showcase Bolt's heroism, I think! I've always loved the civilian-protects-superhero shtick. Awesome idea!

She was minding her own business, trotting along to the familiar tune of her nails clicking against the pavement. Most pets didn't get this kind of freedom in the big city; actually, there weren't many pets in this part of town at all. Apparently those who worked in the business district were too busy to have furry friends. Cats tended to stay indoors, and everyone else obeyed the leash-law. But the dalmatian's Person had lived on this block for six years, and everyone knew that he let his dog out to roam at around noon each day, fully expecting her to come back faithfully within the hour.

"Go on, stretch your legs, girl!" He'd chuckle, leaning on his cane from the backyard door.

The baker on the corner expected the Dalmatian to come plodding down the sidewalk, sniffing at the fire hydrants and lapping up flavorful puddles collecting in the gutters. The taxi cab drivers that circulated in this area knew they didn't have to worry about her stepping onto the street. The cafe across from Waffle World left out a water dish for her. The lady feeding the pigeons always spared her a sweet greeting. The pigeons frequenting the park never failed to share the latest news. And that dimwitted Siamese down Main Street was always easy to surprise, no matter which garden fence she happened to choose as her perch every weekend.

Yeah, everything was always pretty quiet on her rounds of the block...until suddenly, that day, it wasn't so quiet anymore.

The Dalmatian was just sniffing at a particularly interesting mark on the sidewalk outside of Waffle World when the ground shook. She vaguely registered the sound of a helicopter's blades above the dull rattle under her paws. She wasn't an old dog, but she wasn't a puppy either, and no one had ever told her what an earthquake was. Her fur stood on end, and she crouched in fear. Every living thing on the street followed suit; the waitress wiping down one of the outdoor tables across the road screamed and scrambled inside. The old lady on the bench made the same noise of alarm and hobbled backwards. The pigeons flapped in a flurry of terror away from their seats on the wire above, adding to the sudden cacophony of chaos.

Something was in the street. The Dalmatian had to peer around the newsstand she stood behind to see. It looked like a man, but he was huge, much bigger than her Person, dressed in black from head to toe with a strange yellow symbol on his chest that looked an awful lot like a cat's eye. He had a shiny helmet on, like a motorcyclist. The worst of all were his arms, which looked like they should have been muscular, if they hadn't been encased in big sleeves of machinery. They looked like really fancy, scary jackhammers, but with wider ends. The Dalmatian had seen construction before, but she had never seen a human that wore jackhammers for arms. He wasn't wearing all of that bright orange stuff normal construction workers always had on, either. And what human jack hammered right in the middle of a public street? There were big indents of cracks in the pavement on the road beneath him where he'd ruined the same street she'd walked by all her life.

There was something weird, unnatural, and almost...evil...about the way he stood there, so out of place, like he'd appeared out of nowhere. The smell coming off of him was both corporate and dandruffy, like a cat that spent all of it's time in a penthouse office. She knew it instantly in the intuitive way only animals can know things; this stranger wasn't supposed to be here, in this normal city.

The rumbling didn't stop. The stranger bent so his jackhammer-arms touched the ground again and began thumping, rattling the earth again. A car's tires screeched, and the driver, having just come around the block a bit over the speed limit, saw the man in the middle of the road and honked. The Dalmatian couldn't hear much over the horrible hammering from her place, frozen in fear, but she thought she could see that the stranger, not moving, seemed to be laughing wickedly. Didn't he see he was about to be road kill?

The car swerved at the last minute to avoid hitting the man in black—and the Dalmatian suddenly realized it was going to drive over the curb and crash...right into her. For a moment, she was petrified. Then, with a yelp, she broke into a run and bounded in blind fear from her place just as the truck barreled by the place she had been standing and smashed into Waffle World's front door.

The Dalmatian's tail was tucked under her as she stopped, panting, and turned to look. The driver didn't get out of the wrecked vehicle. Her heart thumped in her chest. A weird rumble of laughter sounded right behind her, and she suddenly realized that, in her panic to get out of the way, she had run straight into the middle of the street...right where the mysterious hammer-armed human was standing.

She shrank down until her spotted belly rubbed the road, looking up at him with terror. The stranger loomed directly over her, his giant shadow blocking the sun. He laughed again, and his deep, somewhat dopey voice was tinny under the helmet. "Well hey there, mutt. You're not the dog I'm looking for..." With a pit of horror opening in her stomach, the Dalmatian saw him raise that awful jackhammer arm, strong enough to decimate asphalt. "...But I bet it'll be just as fun to smash you!"

Frozen in fear, all she could see was the metal limb, pointed at her, glinting in the sunlight, it's pumping end pulling back for action...

Then, suddenly, her view was blocked by white and black fur. For a brief moment, she thought it was another Dalmatian—then she realized that this dog, who had slipped between her and the stranger, was white all over, except for one clearly defined spot on his side, the side that faced her. It was shaped like a lightning bolt.

The Dalmatian's heart was still pounding, louder in her ears than the jackhammer had been a moment before. She wasn't smashed. The new dog, it's teeth bared at the stranger, who was just as frozen now in surprise, stopped growling for a moment to turn and look over it's muscled shoulder at her. She saw in an instant that it was a male White American Shepherd, tall ears pointed alertly, brown eyes warm with concern. "Are you hurt?"

"Wha—no...who are...?" She couldn't get her response out in time.

The Shepherd whipped back to the human and fluffed up it's hackles as the stranger's voice boomed. "Hahaha! There you are, Superdog! Calico thought it would take longer for me to get your attention. Guess he was wrong."

The Dalmatian didn't understand what was happening. The Shepherd pressed her back with his shoulder as the evil man took a step forward, hulking with his mechanic arms. "Too bad. I was hoping to get to crush a few people before you got here. Maybe when I settle with you, I can see what the Forrester girl looks like as jelly! Probably redder than just her hair. Heheheh!"

With a sound louder than any snarl she'd ever heard, the other dog cut off his stupid chuckles by leaping straight at him. No fear. No hesitation. His jaws locked around the guy's metal forearm, and to the Dalmatian's surprise, she heard the crunch of his teeth as the bite bent and dented it.

"Hey!" Grunted the guy in alarm, suddenly sounding less confident as he witnessed the Shepherd's power and fury. He staggered a few steps back, away from the Dalmatian. He lifted his left arm, the one the dog wasn't clinging to, and tried to whack his attacker off. He couldn't grab and pull; his hands, if he had any, were encased in the jackhammers' armor.

The canine dropped, already having damaged one arm, and avoided the blow. As soon as his paws hit the ground, he seized the other arm in his mouth and yanked like this was nothing more than a game of play-fighting, like the Dalmatian used to have with her Person. He spun once, and, impossibly, tossed thehuge human with one swing of his head. The big brute didn't go far, but he landed right on the crashed car, shattering the back window.

Her savior turned back to her. He wasn't even panting. "I said, are you hurt, citizen?"

Why was he talking like that? Like some kind of TV Show? The Dalmatian found her voice. "I-I'm fine. Who are you?"

"My name is Bolt. This area isn't safe. You should—"

"Who is that? Why is he doing this? How—how did you—" She spluttered, trying to finish her thought. The words crowded in her brain but couldn't work their way out of her mouth. How did you get here so fast? How did you not break your teeth on that metal? How did you throw a man eight times your size?

Bolt took a step towards her. His thick brows met sternly. "That information is classified. All you need to know is that the man in black is here for me—me and my Person, not you. You won't be in danger if you leave immediately."

"What? Why are you talking like that?" Her voice was still shaking. She couldn't make sense of anything, and she hadn't moved from where her body seemed permanently rooted.

She finally started when a roar of anger sounded from the car. The dazed human had finally lifted himself out of the wreckage, his metal arms having weighed him down. Bits of glass tinkled off of his black armor. He brandished his weapons, gave another shout of rage, and charged them, his footsteps shuddering.

"Get out of here!" Bolt barked at her quickly, his voice dropping out of it's heroic posture. He sounded like any normal dog, urgent and sincere. It was strange after seeing what he could do. "Now!"

That was the last thing he said before the villain reached him. He turned back to his opponent just a moment too slow, and the man swung his jackhammer, clubbing the shepherd's entire body in one swipe.

The Dalmatian's whole frame flinched at the sound of the blow, and she was jarred into motion by the sight of the Superdog's small form flying through the air. Without thinking, she turned and ran, dashing for the street corner, passing the whimpering old lady hiding behind the bench.

She stopped when she heard sound of the man's laughter. Her breath hitched. She turned and froze again. It was like that one horrible time she'd seen a possum get run over, only much worse. She couldn't look away.

The dog who had saved her got to his paws. Again, how was that possible? She was sure a full grown rhinoceros would have been knocked unconscious by that smack. A dog should be dead.

His hackles lifted, and his teeth, pearly white like his fur, gleamed. Bolt glared at the CaliCorp. henchman. "Is that all you've got? I've known cats with a better right hook!"

The bad guy obviously didn't understand the dog. He hefted the weight of his limbs and stalked closer. "Here, doggy, doggy, doggy!"

Bolt crouched and pounced, much farther than a natural animal should be able to leap, closing the distance between himself and the baddy. The man batted the superdog's lunge away. Bolt went careening, for the second time, only now he collided with the brick wall of the cafe. The Dalmatian gasped, barely able to see his silhouette through the dust. He was getting back up again. Slower this time. Shaking his head, ears crooked. She heard the jangle of the tags on his collar and remembered that he'd mentioned having a Person of his own.

The awful human laughed, took a few steps closer, and began thrumming the ground with his hammers mechanically. The shockwaves rippled through the pavement. The Dalmatian stumbled and splayed her legs to stay upright. To her horror, it caused more of the cafe's wall to rattle loose and come crumbling down on top of Bolt just as he was regaining his footing.

More nasty chuckling of victory from the human. His shadow crossed over the pile of rubble. Bricks shifted, and although it took nearly thirty seconds, it was clear that. The Superdog wasn't down for the count. But the monster wasn't being taken by surprise anymore. He waited just until the White American Shepherd shoved his way out from under the cement mound, then swung both arms into the dog like two devastating pendulums before Bolt could blink the dust from his eyes.

Wham!

Right into a parked car. This time Bolt flopped to the ground on his side and didn't get up, though he wasn't unconscious. His eyelids scrunched and his jaws gritted, as if he were fighting off dizziness, and his legs shifted, but couldn't seem to find their way to support his weight. He wasn't moving quickly enough; there wasn't enough time. The villain had reached him while he was down again, and he pointed both jackhammers at the dog. The pistons inside his weapons hummed to life and prepared to do their worst to the dazed Shepherd.

"You're what the whole company's been afraid of all this time? They should've sent me in sooner! I guess CaliCorp. doesn't have to worry about pest control anymore—hey—what the...?"

He whipped around, interrupted, to find the Dalmatian yanking on his boot. She was pulling as hard as she could, but his leg was as firm as a tree trunk. She wasn't large, or strong, and she didn't know how she had found herself back out here in the middle of this. All she knew was that that dog, Bolt, could do amazing things, and no matter where he came from or who he was, he had saved her. He was clearly someone mysterious and important, but he'd taken the time to save her, and he was risking his life to save her block. She was terrified, but she wasn't going to stand by and let something happen to this hero.

She released the man's leg when he turned and promptly wilted, fright creeping into her moment of bravery, but didn't run. She couldn't see his face under the helmet, but he seemed completely discombobulated. "Stop it, l-leave him alone!"

The man seemed to inhale to start laughing again, and that was the last thing she registered before a blur of white arced around him. She felt a tugging sensation around her neck, and her surroundings turned into a kaleidoscope of colors in a whoosh. Suddenly, she wasn't out in the middle of the street anymore. Now she was safely at the corner of the block, her flank pressed against the familiar bakery's ivy-crawled wall. Bolt was standing in front of her, releasing his grip on her collar. Had he...pulled her here? She couldn't even remember feeling her paws move. How fast could he run?

For an instant, their eyes met. His were brown, clear, and caring. Then he was a blur of snowy fur again, leaving her there and zipping back around the corner. All of a sudden, a wave of dizziness from the speed she'd just moved at swamped the Dalmatian. Through it, two or three fluttery thoughts, disjointed and simple, emerged. Who is Bolt? He saved me again. A 'Superdog'...? And I helped him. How can he do all of that stuff? He's amazing. I can't believe I did that! What's happening now?

By the time she got back around the corner, Bolt the Superdog had re-engaged the threat. But this time, he definitely had the upper hand. He seemed to have decided it was time to stop messing around and go all out. Instead of tackling the evildoer, now he was displaying a completely new tactic. The Dalmatian could only assume that the streak of white, zooming in a speedy circle around the human, who was looking bewildered and unsure of how to react, was Bolt.

Unbelievably bright lances of green energy were pulsing out of the blur of motion that had the henchman trapped, and if she paid close enough attention, she could just barely register Bolt when he stopped running and stared hard at the villain before continuing his dash. The green lasers that seemed to pepper the villain from all sides, burning into his armor, were coming from Bolt? He had laser vision, too?!

One of the man's jackhammer arms suddenly exploded, hit at just the right place by a laser blast. The man screamed, all traces of smug laughter gone, and staggered to one side, right into the mouth of Bolt, who caught the other arm and tossed the criminal again. He didn't give the man time to recover. With a growl, he leaped into the air, high, and came back down in a super ground-pound, throwing his strength and force into the weight of his paws as they landed on the cement inches from the downed villain's feet.

This mini-quake was much more forceful than anything the jackhammers had made. It had blown the pavement where Bolt now crouched clean away. It's shockwave didn't carry all the way to the Dalmatian, but it blasted the man in black into the very same car he'd swatted his foe.

Bolt topped it off by blasting the man's remaining arm where he lay in the wreckage with another green jolt. The resulting small explosion didn't leave the man any option for getting back up.

The Dalmatian padded closer, her head low, ready to sprint away again if she needed to. But her eyes were on the mystery Shepherd who stood, victorious and unshaken, in the aftermath of the middle of his own private quake epicenter, still facing the former threat.

She stopped, watching him in awe, and knew that the pigeons and people nearby were doing the same. When he finally did turn around, burning green residue fading from his gaze, he caught sight of her. There was a moment where they looked at each other and didn't seem to know what to say—she was suddenly feeling starstruck, though she couldn't put a name to it, and he didn't seem used to this type of situation, if she had to guess.

Police sirens pricked his ears, getting closer.

He looked at her seriously and nodded. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm-I'm fine. I'm okay." She stammered, surprised he'd even spoken to her again. He opened his mouth, but was cut off by a weak, groaning laugh from the defeated man. A wary snarl wrinkled the superhero's muzzle.

"You think you've won again, mangy mutt?" Croaked the man through the smoke of his destroyed arm-machines. "Hehehe...joke's on you. I was just the distraction. How do you think your precious Penny's doing on her scooter, all alone? Always on the move. Maybe you should've thought twice before stopping to bother with me, huh? Heheheheheh..."

In the blink of an eye, Bolt had wrenched the car's back doors off of their hinges and clubbed the villain over the head with it, silencing him. Then he dropped it with a clang, listened to see how close the sirens were, and whooshed away.

The Dalmatian whipped around to see him pause, a step away from her, and look solemnly over his shoulder. Right at her. There was gratitude, a little surprise, and something else in his eyes...curiosity? "Thank you." He said quietly.

And then Bolt the Superdog was gone. Off on another adventure.

But there was one Dalmatian in a city that never forgot him.

Hope that suffices! Thanks for the request; keep on sending 'em! As you can see, I'm trying to get to them pretty fast, and there are ways to get around the 'No-OC/fan character Rule! I really enjoyed doing this one.