DISCLAIMER: I do not own PAW Patrol, the characters, or any association of the series.

A/N: HELLO READERS! I'm back! I know I said I'll update the other stories, but when my sister started watching this again, marathon style, I couldn't help it! Anyways, here is some replies to the comments. You guys are amazing with your enthusiasm.

ChaseandMarshallfan - thanks!

PBJNachos - Sorry to burst ya bubble, but no. But i do ship them!

lovepawpatrol - I try!

Chully - Aww, I'm sorry I made ya cry! But also glad. That's the feelings I want to hit. I realize too people write Chase alot with no fam or some tragic stuff happening, but he is the most mature. Maturity comes from experience.

Guest - oh, um, not in this one. Awks! I dont think I'll have anything major about those two in any of the origins! Maybe sequels.

CyberWold SgtJay - bro you have a cool name. And anyways glad I could deliver.

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"Meeting dismissed."

The dogs dissembled, all doting the firefighter dog uniform, and went into their respective ways. In the front of the room was a Bluetick Connhound dog, Chief FireFighter Orson. Despite being old, (and damn he was old, nearing thirteen years, considered to be a middle-aged dog) he retained his strong and muscular shape, and his fur still grazed its striking coat. After a minor hackle coughing out of his muzzle, he slowly walked out of the boardroom, entering the front massive garage of the Firehouse. This station was the largest dog station in the city, and a very operative one, no matter what time of day. He was stopped by a few dogs inquiring about new reports, and once by a human firefighter, all while attempting to go his office to catch up on work.

However, through the midst of the juxtaposing fashion, the senior dog noticed something black and white sitting at the dog bench outside.

"Marshall?"

The pup's ears perked, and he looked up with wide blue eyes, a sudden elated expression grazing his face.

"Chief!"

The dog continued to walk over, returning the jubilant appeal.

He plopped himself down, noticing the array of toys and reading material beside Marshall. "What are you doing here? School…" his mind fogged, looking very confused. "Is it lunch break already?"

"Oh no Chief."

"Then…ahhh, school's done?"

"Yup!"

He chuckled. "I see." The old dog quietly sat beside the pup, and his grey eyes turned to him.

"Why aren't yah playing with the other pups?" His southern voice echoed lowly.

"Uh…well, I wanted to see you Chief."

"Me? Ho, ho, I'm too old to be interesting pup!" Orson sighed gently, his eyes unwavering with a knowing glint, resuming his gaze to the garden. "Were the pups bein' difficult gain'?"

"No, no!" Marshall flinched, vigorously shaking his head. "Well, uh, not really." A weak laugh came out, him shrugging. "You know."

Orson didn't reply, simply nodding before resting comfortably on the ground.

"They don't know a nice pup when they see it."

Marshall shrugged inwardly.

"Did you end up finishing that chapter?"

He blinked. "Chapter?"

"That book you're reading." His eyebrow crinkled slightly. "Ah, the comic book I mean."

His blue eyes flashed in excitement. "Oh! Yeah!" He lifted the comic high to show. "I'm on issue thirty five! Apollo the Superpup just discovered a secret underwater robot base with Bax Bull Dog. And Cat Eye Wonder has confronted her evil mother who in fact was hiding evidence about the base!"

There was a tittered laugh as a response. "Crazy little story yah got in that comic."

"Hehe, it is."

"I 'member the days comics were so simple. Dog flies, saves cat, gets treat."

Marshall laughed. "They still do!" And then in an excited voice he began explaining the plot of how his favourite characters came to their predicament. Orson said nothing, but his old eyes often darted in listening, and an occasional cough hitched.

When the pup returned to reading his comic, Orson cleared his throat.

"Did yah see your father yet?"

"I did Chief."

"And did everything go fine?"

"Umm…good as it could get hehe."

"Marshall…" the said looked up at him. "You aren't trying to stall time to go home no?"

He blanched. "Uh, of course not Chief! I-I wouldn't do that!"

Orson crinkled a brow on his aging face. He easily saw through Marshall's façade, who was trying to conceal his increasing uneasiness. "Give him time pup. Even my talk with him was brief."

"Yeah…that's what my mom says too."

"Hm. Pippa." He shock his head, smiling. "The ever optimist. Something yah got from her."

He nodded mutely at that. Yet, a question popped into the pup's head, and his blue eye peered at him. "Did you see your son Chief?"

He laughed. "I did. Rosco got promoted."

"Whaaa?" Marshall was surprised, eyes wide. "He did? To what? I thought once you become part of B.A.R.K. that was the highest you could go."

"Yes pup, that is very true. Unless yah want to become the head of it like your father, there's no other way except…"

His jaw dropped. "Rosco is a council member?!"

Orson nodded.

Marshall was extremely impressed. Just like Orson, he knew Rosco since birth, and he worked with his father in B.A.R.K, being second in command. But now being Council member…he was now one of the few dogs that technically ran the whole dog rescue operation.

"That's amazing Chief!" Marshall cheered. "I gotta congratulate him when I see him."

"Ah, he's suppose to see me today, later tonight. Yah welcome to join."

Marshall lit up at the invite. Rosco was amazing to be around. Besides his mother and Orson, the elite member talked and hanged with him often, especially when he was little. Guess the only dog that liked to play with Marshall was Rosco himself.

"Chief!" Two dogs rushed to the senior dog, and the said animal turned slowly around. "The shipments are here."

"Well for goodness sake they are. Finally." He rose up, and he looked to Marshall kindly. "I must be off little pup. I shall see yah another day."

The Dalmatian smiled. "Bye Chief!"

"Oh, Marshall." He turned to look at the senior. "It's gonna get real busy here, and I'm 'fraid you better get going."

"Oh." His ears flopped impossibly lower, curling inwardly. "Hehe. I'll… pack then."

He grinned softly. "Thanks pup." While Marshall began cleaning up, and the two firefighter dogs left to lead their leader, Orson patted Marshall's head.

"About them pups we talked bout' earlier…I wouldn't worry. It just shows they aren't meant to be yah friends. You'll find a real friend soon."

Marshall's eyes widened in realization, and his smile turned bright. "You're right Chief! I will."

(And maybe he already had).

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Lunch break came.

To be fair, Marshall knew he didn't have many (well, any) friends. So with this Chase pup talking to him normally, it got him excited at the prospect of finally having someone to hang around with. So, the next day, when it was the longest break period during school, he scrambled his toy and books up, and raced out the door.

A million thoughts raced in Marshall's head as he continued to bolt through the trees (while simultaneously hoping he wouldn't trip again). Perhaps it was weird he brought toys when knowing he could spend his time with the pup, but Marshall couldn't help it. He had to make sure everything went well! If it didn't, well, that would suck. Hence, he brought toys, to the prospect that they might play with them.

When he reached the clearing, he noticed no one was there, and Marshall idly thought Chase simply wasn't here yet. So, Marshall settled himself down and decided to arrange his toys nicely beside the tree.

Perhaps five minutes pass, and Marshall, who was excited and anxious, was now feeling dread sprouting in his stomach. Oh no. Marshall knew it. What if Chase was simply being polite before but never intended to be his friend or even an acquaintance? He gasped. No, no, or was secretly annoyed with him? Or what if he didn't like him and decided to never come back to the place to avoid him?!

But to his relief, he heard sounds of crushing grass approaching him.

His eyes bounced up, seeing a brown fur pup entering the clearing. Marshall recognized him immediately.

"C-Chase!" he stammered out, and he quietly scowled himself for sounding so unsure. He couldn't sound nervous.

The pup's ears twitched, and he turned, his attention now focusing on the Dalmatian. For a second Marshall thought the pup looked confused, but it quickly disappeared and he began walking towards him.

"Uh, Marshall right?"

"Y-Yeah!" He was surprised he remembered his name. "How are you?"

He shrugged. "Guess I'm fine. Yourself?"

"Good!"

Chase's eyes peered behind Marshall. "Is that your stuff over there?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah."

"Why you bring it?"

He felt sweat beating down his forehead. "I was uh, actually wondering…D-Do you want to hang out o-or play with me?!"

Great. Now he sounded too excited. Or nervous. Or both.

It was an awkward silence after he asked the question, and Marshall was rapidly regretting it. Just because this pup talked to him didn't mean he wanted to be friends with him or something like—

"Sure."

Marshall's ears perked, despite their nature to lie on his head. "You do?"

He nodded.

"Great!" Marshall was beyond happy, his tail wagging evidently. "What do you want to play? I have a ton of ideas but if you want to play something first we'll totally do it first! Or we can play with my toys! Like, whatever you want to do, we'll do."

"No, it's cool." Chase shock his head. "You can go first."

"H-Huh? You sure?" It was strange someone asking him.

"Yeah. You're the one who suggested it. I'm guessing you have a game in mind."

Whoa…it's like he read my mind! Marshall barely pondered before his eyes flashed in excited realization. "W-We could play tag!" he said too eagerly.

Chase scrunched his eyes.

Marshall sweat-dropped. Oh boy, was that not the right game to pick? "Uh, we can play something else Chase! If you don't like tag…"

"No…it's not that I don't like tag…" he slacked his jaw a bit. "I was just trying to remember the rules of it. I only played it once."

"Once?!"

Chase flinched, seemed a little frazzled by his reveal. "Yeah…"

"Don't worry! The rules are simple. A pup runs, the other one catches." He smiled, "Wanna go first?"

"I don't mind you going first."

"You sure? Absolutely sure?"

"I said yeah, didn't I?"

"Uh true! I just wanted...to make sure...you know dogs, I mean pups! Yes, pups could change their minds... " he shook the thought away as he tried to smile.

Great. He was crashing before he began.

Awkward seconds ticked by, and Chase arched a brow. "Aren't... you gonna run?"

"R-Right! I'll go now!" Trying to fix the situation, Marshall began to run, and he ran his tail off. He honestly thought he had a good lead, his paws clashing against the grass, but suddenly, suddenly, he heard quick thrashing behind him.

Marshall tried to speed up. Sheesh, he might not play with the other pups but he was pretty adequate with speed if he believed so himself. But when he felt a tap and turned his head, he saw Chase right behind him.

"Agh!" he stumbled in shock, trying to sharply turn to not be caught, but he fell and slide across the grass, hitting the trunk of a tree.

Leaves jingled and fell on the pup, and Chase lighly jogged to the Dalmatian.

He observed him silently, blinking twice. "...You okay?"

Shaking the grass out of his head he said, "Haha, I'm good!"

"You sure," He asked, giving him a curious look. "Aren't ya…hurt? Or something?"

He laughed. "Nah, I do this often! I was surprised…you caught up to me so quickly Chase!"

"Was that bad?"

"Not at all! In fact, amazing!"

He blanched at the compliment, and he tried to shrug it off. "Not really."

"Uh huh!" Marshall jumped up. "And since you caught me, I'll get you now."

"Oh, uh okay."

"And don't hold anything back! I didn't, so you do the same!"

"Alright then." It almost seemed he was hesitant to do so, but ultimately decided to listen to Marshall. And before the Dalmatian realized it, his new playmate blitzed down the clearing.

Marshall blinked dumbly.

"Uh, maybe we should use half strength!"

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After a good twenty minutes, Marshall was defiantly poof. He was panting like the pup he was, and what was shocking was that Chase didn't seem that tired. However, it was Chase who decided to call a break, and boy wasn't Marshall glad he did. The two sauntered over to the tree trunk where Marshall had lay his toys earlier.

The two sat down, (well, Marshall sagged down, flopping on the grass), and they rested with the wind breezing through their fur.

"I still can't believe how fast you were Chase!" Marshall voiced out, even though he was clearly tired. "Hard to believe you've played this once."

"Yeah, well," He looked like he was trying to say the right words. "I didn't have a lot of time before." He shrugged. "My bad."

Marshall suddenly smiled. "It's okay! I barely played it too. I just see everyone else play it. So really…I haven't don't it much either."

Chase's brown eyes widened a bit. "Really? I figured you played it a lot. You seem like a friendly pup."

"Friendly?" he said in genuine confusion. After several seconds: "Ah, hehe, I try to be."

"It's more like a chore for me." Chase said, sighing a bit in confusion. "Sometimes the pups I've met say the weirdest things."

"Like what?"

"Like they love Peg Paw. And Bone-Crusher. All the pups in my class talk about those two. I 've heard of Ruff Puff, and sheesh I thought that sounded dumb."

"They're dog celebrities! Peg Paw is a puppy singer, pet to super famous human singers. And Bone-Crusher…he's a rapper. A human one actually. Named after his dog Lil' Crusher!"

Chase scoffed. "Well they all sound stupid to me."

He laughed openly, clearly confusing the K-9 pup. "You're one strange pup Chase!" the German Shepard arched a brow at the comment, and Marshall blinked, suddenly realizing his slightly rude comment. Oh gosh, not another slip-up! "B-But not in a bad way! Like cool strange! And that's really cool. You aren't like other pups I've known and that's cool cause you want to be original and uh stuff..."

Chase observed the Dalmatian evenly. "Well, you aren't really any pup I've met either."

He almost choked on his own breath. "R-Really?"

A nod was an answer.

Marshall couldn't help the smile on his face, beaming at the compliment (He completely forgot to ask if that was good or bad, but he was too happy to ask). "Oh! I forgot! I bought this!" he dashed to his bag, and with his mouth, scooped up a bag of puppy treats between his teeth and mumbled: "I figured if you wanted some, because I have a lot."

"Oh." He looked at the bag quietly, and he nodded in agreement. "Okay. Uh, thanks."

Marshall was glad of the reply, and he offered the treat to Chase. "Do you like pup treats?"

"Sometimes. I never really had them before."

Marshall took a bite, mumbling happily. "This is one of my favourites. It's super yummy. And don't worry it's not those no-name brand ones. But either way, it's still good! I've been told I gotta appreciate any type of food, even no name, because poor street pups would be grateful to have them."

Chase scoffed. "Doubt it."

"Huh?"

"Nothing." Chase then blinked at something that caught his eye. "What's that?"

Oh how Marshall looked joist. "Oh, a comic book! Apollo the Superpup!" he picked up the colourful book in delight from his bag. "It's Issue #3. I like to re-read this one often."

"Who's that?"

"Waaa?!" the pup gasped in horror, almost falling back. "Y-You never read Apollo the Superpup?!"

He shook his head.

"Then Chase," he jumped up, and for once confidence swelled in his voice. "Prepare to learn about the greatest superhero ever!"

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Whatever mood he was in, Maximilian always had the itching need to work.

Walking through the main building of W.O.O.F, he was surronded by the familiar sights of the clean pristine nature of the building. This building was in the heart of the Trix City Canine Rescue Campus. It was impressively massive, holding several buildings on the grounds, a police station, a fire station, dorms, training facilities, and schools for adult dogs and pups in both fields of work. It was specifically built for the four legged animal, funded by the US special Opts government. While it was all important, what truly had its significance here was this was the headquarters of W.O.O.F. Very few knew this place existed, but it was vital to keep it that way from the public.

There were dogs rushing around in typical fashion. Everytime Maximilian passed a dog of low status, they wouldn't dare talk to him, perhaps regarding upon him between a look of awe and nervousness. Higher positioned ones had the courage to greet him, but it was brief and more of a nod of acknowledgment than anything.

Their attitude was much expected.

The moment of birth, till the second he was talking and standing, the world was watching his every move. And at the very young age of three years old, barely considered a teen, he was already a firedog of high caliber. Rising faster than even his own father, Maximilian became fire chief, and then, less than two years, entered in W.O.O.F special divisions.

Perhaps it was his dog culture to always do something, especially his own family he recalled when he was younger. His father and grandfather even told him, he was destined for greatness and must continue the generation of firedogs in the Miller Dog family. It could have been that fact alone that made him rise to the top so quickly.

And...he did. And exceeded expectations.

He remembered the stories how their family even reached the days where humans only had buckets of water to put out fires, and Dalmatians ran with them. They would save humans in those little wooden houses and carry their own weight of water supplies strapped poorly on their backs. Obviously, times have changed, and buckets are now replaced with machines and gear that could spray out gallons of in a matter of seconds.

As he turned to the corner, his head still tall, and poise, his spotted ears twitched, knowing someone was about to call him.

"Commander!"

The B.A.R.K. leader turned his head calmly, seeing a young adult Bluetick Connhound emerging from a group of high-ranking officials.

Max paused momentarily, his face remaining impassive in greeting within the large complex of Headquarters. "Rosco. Afternoon."

The said dog padded his way to him. "Good afternoon Commander."

Max glanced briefly at the group for a sliver of a second before returning his eyes on the dog. "Congratulations on your promotion."

"Ah you've heard already? He smiled openly. "I'm flattered, sir. Wait," he chuckled. "You should be calling me that now! Where did you hear it from?"

"Council." He replied knowingly. "I know your interest in council affairs would lead to such activities."

"Well, don't you know me so well Max." he smirked.

"I have worked with you for several years." he duly noted.

"Boo. No humour." Rosco laughed. "But…I'm actually surprised to see you." They walked in sync with his ex-leader down the long, extremely wide corridor. "You're already back in HQ. I thought you were gonna take a vacation."

"I did. For the evening."

His brows knitted. "That's not a break Max."

"There are assignments and reports to finalize."

"You could do that at home."

"I also have meetings with several specialists."

"Always an answer to everything." He shook his head, but he grinned at his next question. "But enough about work. How's the Misses?"

"Pippa is well, if you are curious. Work is 'usual' as she dictates."

"Ah, and when will she make those delicious treats again?"

"Soon perhaps." They turned the corner. "Your tone is chipper than usual. I presume you've met with Chief Orson."

"Yes, father is doing wonderfully, despite the hectic nature of his job. I saw him yesterday. Oh, and guess what? A surprise visitor came: your son."

"Oh," the tone was neutral.

"Yes, and boy has Marshall grown! He's got your lean stature, Max."

He replied nothing to that.

"Did you even see him when you came back?"

A pause. "I did."

"And?"

Scrutiny came upon the Dalmatian's face. He did not like being questioned, even those who are familiar. "What are you trying to instigate Rosco?"

"Nothing of terrible concern. Just that...your son misses you I assume."

"And what of it?"

Rosco paused. "Since you're back, for the time being, you should spend time with him."

Silence was met.

"Max?"

"...And why would I do something so trivial?" he coldly answered.

If Rosco was surprised, he surely didn't show it. It was clear the conversation was cut, but Max knew Rosco had the ability to fluidly continue a conversation till satisfied him. Something Max disliked. "But sir, you should see Marshall's strengths. He might not be the most...coordinated pup, but there are qualities to him that make him an… asset! Valuable. Unique."

That mention stalled Max's next steps, and Rosco paused, observing his ex-leader.

"As your new council superior of W.O.O.F, I insist to spend quality time with your family, and lessen your duties temporarily. Oh, and don't give me the menacing glare Max. Not to your friend! It's very scary. Oh, very. Save it for the enemies!" he mockingly distressed.

Max glancing down, seeing his reflection through the pristine flooring reigning under his paws. Family time huh? That was something he never did, never learned, and truly never wanted to. That wasn't in his blood to 'bond' with fruitless activities. Pippa knew how much he worked, and he appreciated the space she gave him, understanding him without the use of words. It was through her skill of subtly their relationship never seemed to waver.

But the relationship with his son?

That was another issue entirely.

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For once in his young life, Marshall looked forward to going to school.

Granted, it wasn't like he didn't enjoy learning the skills to become a firefighter dog, (but it was hard to be enthusiastic about something when everyone constantly thought you failed at it). Yet, with him now hanging out with Chase on a daily basis, school was becoming likable. In fact, Marshall was surprised Chase hadn't said anything about his over-excited attitude or clumsy endeavours! While they played the few times, Marshall had fallen several times in a sporadic fashion, even landing once again on Chase when they ran. Oh how Marshall was brightly embarrassed when he did that, hoping it wouldn't cause the last straw, but Chase simply shrugged and they continued.

Or… or maybe he hadn't noticed?

If he did, Chase refrained to say anything about it, which was weird. Dogs or pups (or heck, sometimes humans) point out Marshall's terrible luck, adults being subtle and pups being obvious. Yet Chase…he didn't. For whatever reason, Chase had a high tolerance, and Marshall was thankful for that.

As they were hanging out more, Marshall was slowly beginning to realize that Chase was very skilled in what he was training to become. Athletically, Chase was elite. The times they played tag or hide and seek or any running-jumping game Chase would never be fatigued. (playing with Chase was slightly difficult, but nevertheless fun). Marshall figured at first it must be the K-9 pup training, but even then it seemed like the skill came naturally to him.

And the way he talked…Chase seemed older beyond his years, despite being around the same age as Marshall. It led to other things the Dalmatian pup noticed that Chase…never really laughed. Maybe chuckle here and there, but he never seemed to fully relax. He always appeared on guard, waiting to attack or for danger to strike. Sometimes the bushes would harshly sway against the wind, and Chase's ears would immediately perk, staring around silently and sternly till he sat back down again.

Yet, despite this solemn aura dotting around the German Shepard, Marshall learned he really kinda oblivious about pop culture, or even what pups their age did! When Marshall tried to engage about recent movies or songs when they relaxed, Chase had no idea what he was talking about. Even the games they played would all come from Marshall, and he would be the one to teach Chase how to play. It was the few times Chase's stern façade would fall and he seemed curiously dumbfounded.

When they took their daily break after playing another round of tag (which, no surprise, Chase won the majority of rounds), they sat at the base of the tree, once again chatting about random things.

"Do you like it here Chase?" Marshall asked, his curiosity perked. "You said you moved here."

He nodded. "Yeah, a month ago. And I guess…it's good. I'm used to the city, but for sure Trix City is huge."

"That's for sure! Even me who's lived here my entire life. But my mom says you get used to it eventually."

"Your mom." He repeated. Marshall couldn't tell what the pup thought about that. "You have parents here?"

"Yeah! My father is Maximilian, leader of B.A.R.K, and my mom is Pippa, a nurse dog. She still does EMT, but not really anymore. Just works in the vet hospital here."

"Wow…" Chase faltered a bit, eyes slightly widening, "Sounds like you have a busy family."

"Busy? Busy is not enough to describe how crazy it can be! They're always working. Especially my father, since he works with B.A.R.K."

"B.A.R.K…that's the elite dog team."

"Yup. B.A.R.K. Is Brave Alliance Response Canines, and they are the specialized group within W.O.O.F. They're a rescue response group."

He nodded mutely, looking over the clearing. "Before coming here, I never thought there was a rescue dog group. I thought there was only K-9 dogs and fire dogs."

"Hehe, yeah…they're not really known super publicly, because they do a lot of undercover stuff. But within the uh, police and firefighter community, they are. Even W.O.O.F. is kinda hush hush."

"That's the Work Canine Operative Order Federation, right?"

"Yeah." He laughed. "Guess it's pretty cool to think there's a special organization out there run by dogs to ensure safety and protection for other dogs and humans. But… I never get where the Canine part in W.O.O.F. comes in though!"

A light mirth expression came upon Chase's face. "That's true." There was a brief pause, and the German Shepard had a neutral face to the next question. "Do you see your family often?"

Marshall seemingly blinked at this question, and he shrugged with a slightly forced smile. "Uh…enough! My mom…I see her few times a week, but the vet can get really busy so she stays there a lot, often overnight. And my father even less. If I do see him it's once a month, maybe less."

"I see."

"B-But it's not bad!" Marshall quickly added. "Like I said: They're busy. And besides, I have school to keep me going." His eyes flashed in realization. "But what about your family Chase?! Do you see them at all since you came here?"

"…I actually don't have family." He said suddenly.

The Dalmatian, who was munching on a pet treat, suddenly spat out the remnants of the food. "WHAAAT?! What do you mean?"

Chase shrugged, ignoring the spat out food that was now on the grass. "I've never met my parents. I guess the only dog I would consider family from my hometown was Archie. Maybe Lucky too, but he's too paranoid."

"Who are they?"

"Police Dogs."

"From where?"

"Detmold."

"Whoa…I heard that city's rough."

"Kinda is. Depends who you know, and who's on your side."

Oh… The conversation dipped into silence, and for once, Marshall was at a lost of what to say.

"D-Did you always wanted to be a K-9 pup?" Marshall's thoughts were running a mile a minute, hoping to lighten the mood that strangely turned awkward. "Like, I always knew I wanted to be a firepup, then again, I was expected to be one, but still I really like it, I hope to be one of the greatest, but sometimes I think it would be easier if I could read comic books all day!"

A chuckle. "That's for sure." A sigh fell from Chase's muzzle. "But to your question …no, not really. Honestly, it was the last thing I wanted to do."

"Huh?" Marshall was defiantly muddled. "But then what did you want to do before?"

"Nothing. Just…live, I guess. I grew up on the streets, and that's all I thought about."

Marshall's jaw dropped to the ground. "You were a streetpup?!"

Chase's eyes sharpened slightly. "Yeah, what's wrong with that?"

"N-Nothing!" he denied. "Just wow Chase….I never knew."

"I didn't expect you to know."

"Heh, uh, right. I wouldn't." Marshall inwardly cringed. Uh oh…I hope he isn't mad. From what he said, it sounded like he was….but I couldn't really tell.

"So um, how did you, you know, become a police pup?"

Chase looked rather surprised at Marshall's question, but it was a flicker before he recomposed himself. "Archie helped me realize it. He found me, took me in. And when he asked if I wanted to become a police pup…I eventually said yes."

"Wow...that's like, amazing!" he jumped. Chase was confused. "This Archie sounds super nice, taking you in and stuff. And I bet he's cool too, cause all K-9 dogs are."

The German Shepard sat back against the tree, looking outward at the sky. "Yeah..."

"Do you still talk to him since you've come here?"

Late summer breeze flew through their air, and Marshall, the ever curious one, watched his new playmate in observation. Why wasn't he saying anything?

Chase got up.

"Wanna play tag?"

Marshall was so caught off guard he was sure he looked dumb staring at him.

"Huh?"

"Tag. Or hide and seek." Chase continued, his tone calm, "I don't mind either."

Okay, Chase was becoming more confusing than the crossword puzzles Chief Orson did! One moment they were talking about something possibly serious and now he wanted to play a game? Marshall had a weird feeling he wasn't telling him everything, avoiding the truth, but he didn't press the matter. Instead, he nodded mutely.

"O-Okay! Hey, there's a slide we can play on around here! Ever tried it?"

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Ever so often, pups at the Firepup training school had a skill assessment.

It was extremely important for the school to keep tabs on each pup's progress, as when they eventually graduate, it would then lead them to their job they're capable of doing. Of course, they're all training to be firefighter dogs, but only a select few had an immediate opportunity to pursue work directly with firedog chiefs. It made climbing the job ladder easier.

The time of testing was dawning, and Marshall was slightly dreading this. It wasn't that he couldn't complete the test, no, no, but for the lamest reason he would have a terrible trip and fall at the very end, causing him to gain last place in every test they've done so far. Of course, Champ was the best in his class, followed by Misty. Ah, Misty. If only he could reach her caliber.

"Today class," Mr. Murphy explained, with the pups watching him carefully, "You all know today is assessment day, and that's means the routine checkup of skill, speed, endurance, logic, and communication correct?"

The pups nodded.

"Well not today!" he continued, and some pups were clearly confused. "Today we are holding a special type of test. Like a pop quiz of some sort. It won't be heavily graded like the previous tests, but it's still extremely important you know this skill. Can anyone guess what skill I'm talking about?"

A pup lifted his paw.

"Yes?"

"Will snack time happen soon?"

"Anyone?!" The teacher yelled, his head throbbing.

Another paw shoot in the air.

"Yes, Champ?"

"Leadership."

"Hmm. Good guess, but that's incorrect." Champ frowned, and Mr. Murphy sighed.

"Teamwork!"

A chorus of 'ooo' and 'oohh' echoed, and they glanced amongst each other, finally understanding.

"While Champ brought a good point that a leader is especially important in a life of a firepup, a leader cannot lead if there is no team. Hence, today will be focusing on that. Teaming with other pups to complete the course."

He began sauntering around, striding in confidence. "No matter what you are, you will have a team to work with, hence, teamwork is the key to success. That is why we encourage you pups to be friends with many of your classmates as possible."

"As if every pup here has a friend to work with." Champ commented snidely, nudging his head over to a pup. Those around him snickered, and Marshall tried to ignore the jab.

"But today we're gonna do a little experiment." He continued, passing by each pup and giving them a number hamper to put on. "Today we'll be working with the other group today."

"The other firepup class?" Zues asked. "Which one?"

"Not firepups!" he answered. "Police pups."

Marshall's ears perked a bit.

"And while the two groups are very different, I guarantee you'll meet on the field on more than one occasion. We'll be working with class A."

"Aren't they like, the best?" a pup asked.

"And so are you!" The teacher responded. "A with A. Now, enough questions. Let's be off. We're heading to central training course."

Marshall gulped. Oh gosh. Central training course? This was serious. That was the hardest pup course! Only those who were about to graduate the pup school, either fire or police, would race it. Heck, even firefighter dogs would use it to train!

The group reached the specially designed outdoor course, and Marshall noticed the few changes they've made. If he had to be honest, it looked like a mash-up of both police and firefighter obstacles. There were walls to climb, nets to run through, tires to jump, beams to walk. There was even a ladder portion.

This…looked hard.

"This is Mr. Duke, the head K-9 pup trainer." A tall Bull Terrier stood beside the Doberman. "He and I will be assessing you and your partner, which we have preselected."

"So!" Mr. Duke shouted, and Mr. Murphy squinted at the harsh voice. "Locate your partner and let's begin! Pups!" he turned to the police group behind him, who were all huddled. "Find your partners."

"Yes sir!"

Anxiety was rushing through Marshall again. Everything was turning so crazy, he couldn't even think straight! There were a dozen and so voices around him, and he quickly heard the rebounding yeses echoing proudly. He glanced down to his own number on his side and it said number nine. He peered his eyes around, wondering who had same as him. Oh, he hoped his reputation didn't reach the K-9 school, but with his luck he felt it was evitable.

Owen, Rudy and Zeus seemed to do be doing fine, and the Dalmatian twins for once were separated, which ironically were paired with another twin set. He also noticed Champ high pawing a large K-9 pup, probably a Doberman. Guess he found his partner. And from the look of it, it seemed he knew him already.

His eyes glanced to Misty, and she was with a German Shepard, another girl. They were laughing, and he quickly looked away when she lifted those pretty eyes of hers up, noticing him.

Okay, he needed to find his partner. He went to pups who were solo, but none had his number. Then he approached another, a Retriever, standing stern yet friendly.

"Um," the pup looked at him, and Marshall smiled in greeting. "Hey, you have number nine?"

"Hmm? Ah, yes. Yes I do." The pup started to squint his eyes, and then he flashed widely, almost nervous. "You! You're Marshall."

Of course he knew. "Yeah."

"My dad works at W.O.O.F. as a communicator." The pup looked like he was sweating profusely, trying to smile. "L-Let's try our best partner."

"Wait a minute, hold on pups!" Mr. Murphy looked at his clipboard with Mr. Duke, and he lifted his head up, staring over the pups. "Who has number six? Someone has number six. There's a line under the loop, indicating six."

Marshall glanced down at his paper. His had none.

"Oh, uh I do sir!" The pup beside Marshall waved his paw wildly. He looked a little bit too relieved, but still, he saluted in farewell at the Dalmatian before walking off. He then joined another pup, who looked equally happy to be with him.

The Dalmatian audibly sighed. Great, now who was gonna be his partner—?

"Marshall?"

He never felt more relieved in his entire life. He turned around. "Chase? You're in class A?"

"Yeah." He answered, sitting beside the pup quietly as the teachers resumed fixing the last of the course. "I didn't know you'll be here."

"Hehe, me either! Are you...are you my partner?"

Chase lifted his paper. Marshall beamed at the sight.

"Okay, now everyone settle down!" Mr. Duke shouted, and every pup was attentive. "We'll be calling out your numbers at random. Be alert when we do! We'll bark at start, and time you. Remember, this is overall grading. We want you to complete it properly, not rush. Never rush!"

"But fast too." Mr. Murphy whispered.

"Yes, fast too!"

The two began calling out names, and the first group was up. Pups watched in excitement, and when it started, they howled and barked at the race. The team completed it in decent time, despite being the first ones trying the course. Other teams went, and all were doing fine…well, that was what the pups believed.

"Pups!" The Bull Terrier shouted over, "You can do better than this. Coordinate with your partner. You're all completing it like an individual! And this isn't the first time pups to work in pairs! You two groups worked previously. This should come naturally!"

Pups were panting in exhaustion, tired from the course, and Marshall knew these pups weren't weak. They were one of the best in his class.

"Marshall."

A feminine voice drawled out his concentration. He blinked and sure enough noticed Misty walking to him. Wait, Misty is talking to him? To him?

He stiffened immediately.

"H-Hi Misty."

Chase arched a brow, but didn't say anything.

She kept her eyes on him, amused. "Why so nervous Marshall?"

Did she see? Oh gosh, how embarrassing! He quickly scrambled up an excuse. "I-I'm just nervous of the…course! Everyone doesn't seem to be doing well."

She giggled. "That's true. Makes me wonder if I'll do good."

"You will Misty!" Marshall exclaimed, and she was watching with doe-like eyes. "I bet this will be easy for you. You're already so great."

"I guess I am." She laughed. "I am in the top three."

"Exactly! So don't worry about this."

She smiled sweetly. "Thank you Marshall. And good luck."

He felt his face flush red, but he forced a reply. "A-And you as well. But, heh, you won't need it."

She did that sweet laugh once more before nodding off and walking back to her partner. Marshall sighed heavily, but he never kept his eyes off her.

"A friend?" Chase asked, eyeing the pup beside him.

"Huh? Oh, no." another sigh escaped his muzzle. "Well, uh, I don't know. Classmate really. She's nice."

"Alright, number three. Who has number three?"

"We do!" two pups ran to the front of the course, and Marshall saw it was Champ and the Doberman. All the pups were howling in delight.

"They're so gonna be the best." Buck the Dalmatian said to his sister, who Marshall and Chase overheard.

"Absolutely! They've been friends since like, forever. Best of the best."

"Yeah," another pup chimed in, coming from the K-9 school. "I heard Champ's amazing. Pairing with Bruce…they're gonna be a power combo. You haven't seen Bruce in action."

The Boxer and Doberman in question readied themselves on the course, and the teachers stood tall.

"On your bark, get set, go!"

They were off, and Marshall was completely amazed. They were in perfect sync! It was like they knew exactly what the other would do, and it was fluid, swift and precise. While Champ could be...mean, he had every reason to act tough. And the other pup too was equally impressive.

"Wow…" Marshall didn't remove his eyes off from the pups. "Bruce is fast."

"He's cocky though." Chase dryly commented. "And it shows."

Marshall honestly didn't see much, but cocky was something he understood, especially dealing with Champ for so long. Even running the Boxer looked smug.

"And…time!"

The pups cheered.

"That's what I want to see!" Mr. Duke grinned, while Mr. Murphy pressed his paws down on the timer, calculating stats. "Pups, this is what I'm talking about! Understand your partner. It's the critical difference between a successful mission and a failing one."

"Next! Number ten!"

It continued. Some pups did good, but no one reached the level Champ and Bruce showed earlier. Perhaps the one group that did was Misty, because when she was done Champ immediately went over to her and began chatting up, nudging her side.

Marshall didn't want to do this. He really didn't want to do this. He knew he was gonna mess up. He always did. But what made this entire situation worse was that he would be messing up with Chase, someone he looked to as a friend. Not only would he look bad, but would certainly make the K-9 pup too.

"You alright Marshall?"

"Uh, hehe, why wouldn't I be alright?"

"You keep hunching over, covering your eyes."

"Huh?" he didn't even realize he was crouched on the ground. "Um, it's nothing! Guess I'm nervous. Like a bit."

"Oh." he wavered his eyes to the course. "Don't worry. You'll do fine."

"Easy for you to say. I'm not uh," he never wanted to voice it, but he had to. "I'm not very good at this. I'm what you say… a clumsy pup."

"And?"

"A-And?" he was utterly dumbfounded, his blue eyes wide. "You're not bothered by it?"

He seemed to ponder at his answer, slaking his jaw. "Well, like, I noticed," - Marshall sagged his shoulders - "but it's not like a huge deal. Remember, you did fall on top of me when we first met."

"Heh. Guess I did."

"And it wasn't a simple fall. It was like a crazy stunt. Takes a skilled pup to do that."

"I don't know about that – "

"Alright, last but certainly not least, number nine!"

Marshall's tail stopped wagging. No, no, no, he wasn't ready. Gosh, everyone was looking at them! He felt like hyperventilating. He couldn't mess up. He couldn't, he couldn't –

"Ready Marshall?"

He jumped. He realized Chase was waiting for him to respond, and he nodded hesitantly. Chase nodded and the two began walking over to the start of the line.

"Oh gosh, it's Marshall."

"Wonder how this is gonna turn out."

"Probably a disaster."

"Feel bad for the pup paired with him."

"I would say don't try to mess up," Marshall recognized that voice, turning to see Champ, Bruce and some other pups with him. "But…you're gonna. Can't wait to see what you'll do."

Marshall jogged quicker to the line.

The two teachers talked quickly to each other before nodding and turning their head back to the pups. "You two ready?"

No.

Chase sat straight. "Yes sir."

"Then let's begin."

Marshall clenched his paws tightly. His heart was beating so fast he honestly felt like he couldn't breath.

"Don't worry." He heard Chase say beside him. He glanced beside him, and Chase looked back, his dotting an expression Marshall had never seen before from him. "I know you're nervous. Just don't give up, and we'll do fine."

"R-Right." Marshall steadied himself, eyes firm ahead of him. Could he really do it?

"On your bark,"

Maybe Chase is right. Maybe...maybe he could do it!

"get set…"

He could! He could!

"Go!"

Marshall mildly realized the race started, and when hearing the shuffling of paws rush past his ears, he began sprinting too. The first was the tires, and thankfully his paws didn't get stuck. There were twin beams, and the two rushed across, (well, really Chase did, Marshall was careful not to fall). Once he did that, there were huge blocks they had to climb up. Marshall jumped on each platform, almost, almost slipping on one, but he kept his balance and continued onward. They crawled under beams, and Marshall bumped his head dramatically, earning a laugh from the crowd. When they had to leap over the bars, Chase seemed to be doing it perfectly fine! He was fast, his eyes almost glaring, even going higher than the bar stood. Marshall heard some pups awe, and for sure they were impressed by his friend.

When Marshall had to jump, he was fine for the first two. However, the third one his paw didn't go high enough and – his eyes widened – he tripped and landed doing a mini summersault! The bar dissembled itself, clattered on the grass, and the pups watching laughed louder this time. Mr. Murphy silenced them, but it was no use. Marshall's confidence was rapidly falling apart.

"Halfway!" Mr. Duke called, and the two pups finally reached the duo portion.

There was a large ladder which Marshall had to climb, and even though Marshall felt completely unsure of himself, he kept going, keeping a steady pace up. Once he reached the top, he faltered even more, seeing a ladder go across to hit a button he had to hit in order for Chase to get past a door. But that wasn't the bad part.

He had to jump down before hitting that button.

Marshall turned pale. No, no, not falling! He hated falling. He didn't dare look at Champ, knowing he was smirking. But Chase…he couldn't disappoint Chase! He actually believed in him. He didn't want to lose a friend.

He closed his eyes and dropped down.

Marshall landed like a pancake, and oh how he wanted to curl in a ball and silently freak out on what he just did. However, that luxury had to be put on hold, as he clumsily got off the net and staggered to the button, triggering the door open. He dropped to the ground, panting, and Chase with a bark began racing across, dodging the water spray that was aiming at him. He then had to climb a wall, and to Marshall's dumbfounded amazement he reached the top from his first leap, then jumping down. Marshall was tired, he really was, but he forced himself up and raced to the finish, running as fast as he could.

It was actually surprising that even though Chase was fast, Marshall was actually racing right beside him.

The grass lashed under their paws, and they both simultaneously sprang through the air, landing on the mat that was a few feet away.

"Time!"

Marshall felt adrenaline in his veins, and he was hyper alert of everyone around him, panting and wagging his tail eagerly. Chase too was extremely attentive, peering his eyes to the instructors.

Mr. Murphy perked his eyes down the clipboard once more. "Give us a minute to calculate results."

Marshall flopped to the ground, feeling exhaustion pour upon him. A shadow appeared over, and it was Chase, also huffing. "Told ya…you'll do good."

"But…I…fell." He sat up, sagging his shoulders down. "Sorry I messed up back there. And took forever to drop."

Chase smiled, and it surprised the Dalmatian. "But you finished. That already is great."

Great?

"Alright! Everyone did a good job! I'm impressed." Mr. Murphy grinned. "I hope you gained a valuable experience in teamwork today."

"But!" Mr. Duke continued. "There are a few teams we would like to call out for their impressive. Sparky and Waltz, Misty and Lyra, Owen and King, Marshall and Chase, Champ and Bruce, great job! We actually have a tie between two groups."

The pups looked amongst each other, eager.

"The first group is Champ of the Firepup school, and Bruce of the K-9 pup school! Great job." Pups howled, and Bruce nodded in confidence. Champ glanced at his fellow classmates, smug and proud.

"And the second group is…Marshall of the Firepup school, and Chase of the K-9 pup school! Excellent job you two."

Some pups cheered, barking with wagging tails. Others were silently stunned at what happened, evident with the gaping wide eyes.

"Huh? We came first?" Marshall was in disbelief. There was no way he took first, much less equal the level of Champ. Perhaps he was dreaming. Especially how Champ looked, shocked and jaw dropping to the ground.

"See Marshall?" the Dalmatian was still dumbfounded, looking over to Chase who titled his head, chuckling. "Told ya you did great."

He numbly nodded and glanced around at the pups who were for once…cheering for him, and it felt strange to be in the spotlight in a positive way. He stood a bit taller, finally smiling, basking the feeling in.

And it felt good.

.

.

.

Dogs of different breeds sat around a platinum circular table, illuminated by a blue light that beamed down in the center, which allowed whoever was presenting to stand in front of the selected elite. A Dalmatian walked in the center, power and professionalism posing all over him, followed by two more dogs and one human male who worked with the government. The silence was heavy, but the atmosphere intimated not one individual.

"Good Afternoon Council." the dog said sternly, eyeing every individual who sat in front of him. Rosco was among them.

"I am here to bring forth a project we have been working on for an extensive amount of time, and near completion, we are ready to implement this program into the force."

The W.O.O.F. Council remained impassive, a few arching a brow.

"My Council, I come forth the proposal of Project: P.A.W. Patrol."

.

.

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A/N: Haha! It's finally started! It'll all be weaving together. Ryder is coming soon, more drama, a fight, and these Ocs, one of them becomes super important in the future. Like major role. Be while, but when it finally happens, you'll be surprised.

Thank you to all those who continuously read, comment and follow my work! (critique/suggestions are welcomed!) ^_^

P.S REVIEW!

Till next time,

mokocchii