"You're so lucky I'm such a nice guy" the comment muttered under Jason's breath as he had woken up at the ungodly hour of 9:30am with a loud "oof!" as he was used as a stepping stool by the dog and an unstoppable itch caused by an army of fleas that had seemingly planned a coup against him while he slept.

In the natural light of day, Jason's new companion looked even more miserable, the dog's fur having dried and further caked in the dirt and debris. It had simply been too exhausting of a night to do anything but keep the dog warm and dry.

Despite not wanting to go out during the day, he talked himself into it by choosing to walk towards The Bowery on his way to the nearest pet supply store he could find and grabbing a large cup of coffee. He supposed it was one of things he missed out on when being a night owl – shops actually being open. With a faint metallic 'clink ' of his lighter, he took a drag from his first cigarette of the day and slowly exhaled, leaning his head back against the side of the shop.

A small grumble by his hip had him quirking an eyebrow and looking down at the dog that kept pawing at the makeshift rope leash Jason had tied around its neck in order to take it out. It was not exactly what he had planned when he had left his place; figuring he'd just grab all the supplies he needed from the store, come back, get the dog clean and fed and then figure out if there was a no kill shelter or someplace that the dog could be checked out and looked after. It wasn't exactly like Jason had a life conducive to owning a dog.

Unfortunately for him, as soon as he made to leave, hoping that Bud (because yes, the dogs ears perked up every time Jason had called him that) would stay quiet, he heard the most pitiful whining that forced him to stand ramrod straight behind the now closed door, refusing to cave in to the obvious guilt trip being bestowed upon him.

"You can do this. He'll be fine. You'll be back. Don't be such a fucking sap...he's totally playing you." The self pep-talk appeared to have done the trick, Jason straightening up, ignoring the sounds of a despondent dog, and making his way down the stairs.

He had lasted a solid one minute and thirty-four seconds out the door before he had gritted his teeth, looked up at the sky as if it had all the answers, muttered a loud "for fuck's sake" and went back for the damn dog.

Which is why he was now balancing his coffee, cigarette, his duffel filled with his Red Hood kit (no point in going back to that safe-house now, not with Bud in tow), and a semi-irate dog that grumbled like an old man. Scratch that, old woman.

It hadn't taken much observational skill to realize as soon as Bud went to relieve herself when they had left the apartment. Jason was still calling her Bud though. Simple enough and someone would probably give her a more unique name.

"Hey, I planned on leaving you back at the apartment. You wanted to come out and now you have to deal with the consequences" The smirk on Jason's face widening as Bud paused from her battle with the rope leash to grumble louder and specifically in Jason's direction.

"Don't you take that tone with me. I'm about to get you all prettied up." Jason dropped his cigarette stub on the ground and crushed it underneath his boot. Bud had taken a giant huff and had lowered her head in defeat. The rope had won the battle for now.

The nearest pet supply store was a fifteen minute walk to the south in The Bowery, and was surprisingly large and well stocked. Clearly despite its location it attracted all sorts of folks from across Gotham, from those that couldn't afford the higher end pet stores or were being budget conscious to those who could barely rub two coins together but would use them just to feed their own pets.

During the walk over, Jason paid attention to how his canine companion walked and whether there were any signs of injury. Luckily it seemed that at least outwardly, Bud was in okay shape save for the dirt, fleas, and the old scars.

"Stay close and behave" Jason pointed a finger at the dog, expecting it to take his words to heart as they now stood at the store front. He got a cocked head in response and figured that was as good of an answer as he was going to get.

A few minutes into Jason and Bud's adventure into the pet store, two things became abundantly clear: the first being that he really needed a lot more things than he had believed and was more lost than he realized. It must have shown on his face despite the large sunglasses he had purposely left on because a young woman in her early twenties with a sympathetic smile, name badge, and an empty shopping basket took in the sight of Bud, the matted fur, the rope leash, and Jason's arms filled to capacity with items he had been grabbing off the shelves. Oh and then there was the second thing...Bud (which as a reminder, was more than likely taller than Jason when on its hind legs) was an absolute fucking scaredy cat.

Some little kid had walked by with what appeared in Jason's eyes to be an abnormally small dog, no bigger than a damn rabbit, which had started yapping obnoxiously and fearlessly at Bud, who could have just crushed the thing under a single paw. Before Jason could even react, his arm was almost yanked out of its socket (and he knew damn well how painful that could be), when the great beast of a dog yelped and backpedaled directly into the aisle shelves behind it, knocking stuffed pet toys all over the floor.

"You are probably two hundred times heavier than that little runt and you let it run you off?" The disbelief in Jason's voice coming after the little bastard of a dog was quickly picked up by the kid who hurried along as if it hadn't been the one to cause the entire mess in the first place.

Bud's head hung low as if ashamed of herself, tail drooping slightly although still knocking into things as they walked.

A large sigh, this time from Jason, had him scratching Bud behind the ears. Shit scared him too sometimes, even little stuff. He got it. "It's alright. That thing was a little fucking bitch...pun totally intended."

He grinned down at her, before looking up again and finding Addie, the young woman that had handed him the empty shopping basket and had helped clean up the aisle after that whole small dog vs. big dog showdown, coming round to let Bud sniff her hand before petting her.

Jason briefly explained what was going on, hating to admit he was at a loss, but that the dog had fleas, hadn't had any proper food, and who knew what else. He was so happy he hadn't let pride get in the way this time of asking for help because thirty minutes later (which allowed him to get some much needed smokes in), Bud had been washed, groomed, matted fur combed out or simply cut off, and anti-flea'd.

Jason had no idea they did grooming at pet supplies stores but he was glad they did and that they had offered to squeeze Bud in between appointments. He also now had the business card of the local animal clinic back in Park Row (not far from Doc Thompkins place actually) which would be able to give Bud a thorough checkup for little to no cost. Not that Jason couldn't afford whatever she would need; even if he couldn't keep her, he'd make sure she was all set.

He had his phone out before he could even think about it, taking a photo of Bud, whose black fur was now shiny and clean, a purple bow wrapped around her neck as well as the brand new black leather collar and leash. He couldn't help but smile as the dog practically pranced towards him, tail held high and wagging in swift motions back and forth.

"I knew we'd find a beautiful wolfhound under there" Addie laughed, patting Bud's head affectionately as she passed the leash over, a thick heavy one that Jason had picked out because even without a dog attached to it, could serve another purpose as a weapon. It wouldn't quite be piano wire but it would do in a pinch.

"I'm sorry what? Wolfhound?"

Although Jason supposed that was funny considering he had thought Bud was something entirely different than a dog at first.

"Yup. Irish Wolfhound. Tallest of the dog breeds. Most people picture Great Danes but it's these guys here" she scratched behind Bud's ears "that are the true giants. She still looks quite young despite the state you found her in... she'll probably grow some more-" she bit her lip to stop herself from laughing at Jason's disbelieving look.

"She's going to get bigger than this?!"

Bud clearly was some sort of mutant dog; there was no other explanation. He laughed as said beast leaned against him, her weight shifting suddenly and almost making him lose his balance.

"Are you going to be okay with that?" Addie's question teasing but a valid one. Nothing he needed to worry about though; he wouldn't be keeping her...at least not for very long.

He couldn't help but look down at Bud, Jason's hand already resting on her head.

"Yeah...I'm okay with that."

A few minutes later had Jason really questioning how an Irish Wolfhound, which Addie said looked like a purebreed and would have cost a pretty penny, ended up on the streets. Even the breed itself wasn't one you'd see out and about in the best of circumstances, especially not in Gotham of all places. Jason almost wished the dog could talk and tell him what had happened, and whose bones he could start breaking.

Back out the door with food and other pet supplies now in his hand, and Bud looking like a million bucks as they walked down the sidewalk, the hairs on Jason's neck stood on end, the feeling of being watched difficult to ignore. Some may have called it paranoia, Jason called it instinct (although frankly, it was his reality more often than not), and he wasn't wrong, certainly not now.

In the light of day, Gotham looked like a completely different city; better or worse depending on whom you asked. It also meant more eyes to stare at him, which is why his hoodie was pulled over his head and sunglasses still on. Nothing he could do about the pony-sized animal next to him though; he was fairly certain it was Bud that eyes were focusing on and not him, which was just fine.

What wasn't fine were all the passersby looking at Bud with unease as they walked by, obviously unsettled by her sheer size. Jason had to ignore the urge to snarl at those assholes. Kids on the other hand, pointed and smiled, tugging on their parents arms and attempting to drag them over to come pet her.

Bud's tail seemed to wag a bit more when she saw kids come forward ('clearly not abused by kids then' Jason thought) but the happiness seemed short-lived as the parents took one look at the large canine and immediately sped up and moved away, ignoring the protests from their kids.

Despite the benefit Bud served at helping put a wide berth between Jason and people in general, there was a small part of him that wanted to yell out at those parents, tell them that Bud was friendly and who were they to judge. She had already been through enough and still apparently trusted others to be kind; hell, she had let Jason carry her back to his place, not knowing whether or not he would be taking her to her death.

"Well apparently they didn't get the memo about you being a giant wuss" he teased her, trying to lift her spirits. "Let's get this stuff dropped off and maybe we'll go to the park."

It had been months since he'd spent more than an hour or two to outside during the day, and the most recent time had been because Franko Cecni, a small-time drug dealer, thought that he was being clever and avoiding the Red Hood by selling his product after school let out and from an ice cream truck no less. Seriously, an ice cream truck. Hopefully Franko had gone on to reconsider his life choices while spending four hours in the ice cream truck's freezer that really did have ice cream contained inside. He'd only lost a few fingers, while Jason gained a couple of Astro Pops. Win-win.

Jason's favorite safe-house, because yes, he had favorites, was in fact, an actual house. A two-story brownstone, one of several dozens that lined a quiet tree-lined block right off of Solomon Way, bordering on Gotham Heights.

Almost everywhere else he had were very much just bolt holes, places he had picked for convenience (either due to potential exhaustion or injury), but this place...this place was all his, completely renovated and an actual (and more importantly sanitary) proper home that had a small walled-in yard.

He may not have spent a lot of time here, especially when he felt he was being watched by bats and birds, but it had been good...something he had fixed up and made his own, something that had always been wishful thinking as a little kid but had been all but beaten out of him as the years went on. Even Wayne Manor...well, that was a different matter altogether.

"Let's get you set up then."

The duffle bag full of his gear was dropped on the floor in the hall - he refused to call it a foyer - and closed the door behind him. It may have not looked all that secure, but that was the whole point. The security measures in place had taken longer to put together than actually getting the place habitable.

Two large bowls placed down by the kitchen counter with food and kibble, he let Bud go to town while he went through his place, ensuring everything was secure.

He had originally been skeptical about using Sherman Fine, aka The Broker, but surprisingly, the guy was sharper than he had given the man credit for. And what with being the go-to real estate guy for almost the entire criminal underclass, looking for any particular individual's property was almost like looking for a needle in a haystack. 'Plus', Jason mused as he made his way up the stairs to take a long shower in his extremely nice bathroom, 'everyone assumes I choose to live like a derelict out of spite. We all know what happens when you assume...'

One long shower and a fresh pair of sweats and threadbare shirt later, Jason went back downstairs to find Bud queen of the sofa. Clearly he should have thought about setting up boundaries before leaving the dog alone for a bit.

At least nothing looked chewed up or peed on, which was a big positive. With his temporary roommate looking quite at ease, the desire to head out again left him, and it didn't look like Bud was complaining from the way she dozed off and barely moved.

Other than calling to schedule an appointment with the animal clinic he had been given the card for (he wasn't about to wait hours with Bud, who would most likely be scared of every other animal in the place), he made himself a proper meal, which all of a sudden had him being nudged and cursing at the failure to resist the pleading for some of the chicken he had made for himself. "I gave you your food already! You even ate most of it!" he argued rather one-sidely, not doing a very good job of getting her to stop her pleading.

"Spoiled brat…" Jason's grumbling lessened by suddenly being eye to eye with his new companion as she stood on her hind legs, trying to plant sloppy kisses all over his face.

"Yeah yeah...cut it out alright. I love you too, ya big ol' mutt."