A/N: As promised, the next chapter. However, this may be it. I don't really have any plans for future chapters. I may be persuaded to if ideas are thrown out there.
P.S. Your turn, Rory ;)
The McKeller Firsts
Chapter 8: First Pet
Why a dog? A cat was understandable with its affectionate qualities, but a dog… a dog has no positive qualities at all. They smell, tear things up, make you go for walks, and require constant attention. True, he had been sucked in with their perfectly matching, begging eyes; the dog's dark, wet eyes and equally sodden nose contesting with bright and shining brown orbs of a cuter style. He should have just said no. That a cat was good enough.
And hadn't he argued that the last time he had a dog it ran away before a license could be retrieved?
That hadn't mattered to her. Obviously. "You'll do fine with him. Why would such a cute, loving dog run away from us?" she had said while ruffling the short hair between his pointed ears.
There was that annoying quality of hers again. No one was ever face-valued at less than perfect with her. That apparently included two-faced dogs. But that also includes humans, he reminded himself. Without that quality, she may not have given you a second look. Glancing at the brute of a dog that had adorned the bottom of their bed for the past two nights currently occupying a stretch of the living room floor; he belatedly realized they were hand-picked from the same boat. Jennifer loved them both unconditionally and would for the rest of her life. So maybe they had similarities?
Eyeing the dog with arms crossed, his grim-lipped mouth slid into a form of frown. That dog was, in essence, him: gruff on the outside to anyone but Jennifer and massively protective of her when any male was near. But maybe with a common objective in life, they could learn to at least tolerate each other. Worth a shot if he's going to be around for a while.
Carefully, Rodney stepped up to the dog. So far so good; no limbs had teeth sinking into them. The dog, Bruce he remembered with disgust, showed no sign of hostility other than his eyes finally finding and following his male master's movements. Jennifer must have been teasing him to have named the dog Bruce Meredith Wayne. Until the mutt lived up to his potential, Rodney was sticking with his initials because if he was lucky and called it loud enough, a BMW would come roaring around the corner they lived on and smack right into the big loafing thing. One could hope.
"Hey there, B." B for Brute. Rodney crouched down to his level.
A resounding growl was his only answer as the dog's eyes shifted away again and his alert head dropped lazily to his clawed paws, obviously no longer interested.
"Okay, that's fine too. I'll just talk." His hand started waving through the air as he began explaining some of the rules of the house. Not ten seconds into his explanation, Bruce growled nastily, jumping to his feet swiftly as Rodney's hand accidentally brushed against his short-haired coat. "Okay, okay. I'll just tell Jennifer we had this talk."
Bruce made a short snap of his teeth in his general direction, baring them in disgust.
"That's it," Rodney stood up to his full height and started advancing toward the dog, finger pointed in his face menacingly. "You'll behave in this house or end up on the streets."
"Rodney?" Only then did he hear the front door shut.
"He started it."
Bruce gave a low growl, but shifted his gaze away and trotted over to his mistress, damp nose affectionately sniffing and nuzzling her thigh. A hand came to rub his head and ears. "I'll bet. What'd he do this time, hide the remote?"
"Very funny. Har har."
Jennifer finally smiled back a chuckle and Rodney's frustration melted away just like that. She knew it too, yet she still sat on the floor, scrubs, white shoes, coat, and all. Bruce immediately sat at her side, nose unobtrusively snuffling her ear.
"Pay attention, Bruce. I'm not repeating myself."
He stopped immediately, his tiny huffing stopping too as he gazed right at her, switching his focus between her eyes to search for the answer.
"You know you're my man—"
Rodney snorted out a huff.
She pointed a finger at him, Bruce momentarily following it. "Hold on." She returned her attention to the waiting dog. "You're my main man, but you have to be good to that man right over there." She pointed again, just to be clear. "That guy's beyond compare with any other guys in my life. He's it. Number one. Alpha, in a sense. In a we're equals kind of way. Except when it comes to the remote—then I'm alpha, so hide it on him all you want."
"Productive talk," Rodney drawled.
Jennifer continued, unperturbed, "Just as long as you protect him like you do me. I promise deep, deep down, he loves you just as much as I do."
She flat-out ignored Rodney's "Doubt it," and kissed Bruce's head, receiving a well-placed cheek lick or three. She stood, shrugged off her coat, and shot a "there you go" look at Rodney on her way to the kitchen to start dinner.
Bruce shuffled back into the living room, peacefully bypassing Rodney and mouthing the remote, taking it with in his trot to the kitchen.
Rodney sighed, sinking into the couch. "Yeah. All better."
