HELLO WORLD! This is my first fan fiction… at least that I've ever posted online. I hope you all like it. (And I hope you like Tomissen. He is very close to my heart for several reasons including the fact that he wants the chicken gone as much as I do).
Disclaimer: I don't own Paw Patrol, in case you're wondering.
4:42 PM, The Lookout, Adventure Bay.
"Dude, you gonna ask Skye to the Barkingburg Ball?" Zuma asked. "You two could totally chill with Everest and I."
"I'm working on it..." replied Chase, nervousness bubbling within his gut like a shaken bottle of soda, ready to explode. The German Shepard had his eyes fixed intently upon his target destination: Skye the cockapoo, his longtime crush. Chase had been looking for an opportunity to inconspicuously ask her out for awhile now, and the ball provided the perfect opportunity.
He and his companion, Zuma the chocolate brown Labrador, traversed the upstairs lounge room of The Lookout, the Paw Patrol rescue team's headquarters in Adventure Bay. Plush bean bag chairs, pillows, and short, round tables abounded. The sounds of joyous activity filled the room. Several pups milled about, doing this and that, enjoying their free time.
Across the lounge from the two, Skye sat upon a round, pink, embroidered pillow. Nearby sat Everest and Tanya, Siberian Husky cousins. Skye and Tanya chatted, while Everest read the latest edition of the Arctic Adventurer's magazine. As Chase approached, he could hear Skye laughing, one of the most beautiful sounds he'd ever heard; almost as gorgeous as her physical appearance. Those pink eyes, that soft fur, and her sweet smile... 'Focus,' he thought. He came to a stop adjacent to Skye. Zuma positioned himself on the opposite side. Skye turned to face him, beaming radiantly.
"Uh, hey, Skye," Chase stuttered, distracted by the smell of cinnamon perfume, and very much aware that Zuma stood beside him grinning excitedly and Tanya spectated curiously. "I wanted to... um..."
'Ask me to the ball?' Skye thought. 'I'd love to go with you!'
"...tell you that I think you did great on that rescue this morning! Yep!" Chase hurried on.
Skye's countenance fell, and Zuma's expression instantly went from excited to unimpressed. Even Everest looked up from her magazine, one eyebrow raised. Chase felt as though the thermostat on his face had been cranked up a couple hundred degrees.
"Oh… thanks. I think you did amazing too, Chase," Skye said, attempting a smile.
"Thank you," was the only thing he could think to respond, his face heating twofold. Zuma, having lost interest in Chase's failure, had turned to Everest and grinned, raising one eyebrow slightly. Her cheeks colored as she returned his attention with a simper. Their tails wagged in unison.
After an awkward four seconds, Chase nodded to the girls, turned, and marched off towards the elevator, Zuma not far behind.
When they moved out of earshot, Skye said, "At least one of us isn't having guy trouble." Everest blushed harder and returned back to her magazine.
"Hey, chin up. I'm sure someone will ask soon. Don't worry," Tanya consoled.
"Thanks Tanya."
Meanwhile, as the duo made their way to the elevator, Zuma began interrogating Chase:
"Dude! What happened?"
"I... I choked," Chase moaned miserably. "I got so nervous. Why do they always travel in packs?"
"I'm pretty sure it's a dog thing, dude."
"No, girls."
"Oh." Zuma thought on this for a moment, then smirked mischievously, "To scare off unworthy males?" He asked innocently.
"Thanks, that helps a lot."
Marshall was relaxing downstairs when Chase and Zuma exited the elevator. Chase made eye contact and moved over, Zuma following suit.
"Hey guys!" Marshall greeted. "What's up?"
As Chase opened his mouth to respond, Zuma interjected: "Me and lover-boy here just had a close encounter with Skye and he wussed out of asking her to the ball." Chase, embarrassed and blushing slightly, closed his mouth and found somewhere else to look. "You?"
"I hung out with Sweetie to get to know her better before this weekend."
"Ooh, really? How did that go?" Zuma's grin widened as he questioned the Dalmatian. Even Chase looked interested now. In a split second, Marshall reviewed the events of the day in his head.
11:45 AM, Adventure Bay.
It was nearly noon, and the warm fall sun graced its beams upon all in Adventure Bay. Amongst those who were enjoying the nice weather were Marshall and the West Highland Terrier, Sweetie. Marshall had chosen to show Sweetie around the town since she and the other royals from Barkingburg were only visiting for a short time and it would give him a chance to get to know her better... not for any romantic reasons, though she was incredibly pretty with her soft, fluffy white fur and bangs, cute magenta eyes, and her funny laugh with the snort at the end. He had asked her to the ball that weekend, and realized he really didn't know that much about her, so he decided to change that. When he brought up the idea to go for a walk, she reacted in a less than ideal way: flat out refusing to consider it, exactly what happened when he asked her to the ball. But, just like when asking her to the ball, a stern look from the princess changed Sweetie's mind and mood quickly.
Now they ambled together outside of town hall, following the sidewalk. The sight of the building had spawned a barrage of inquiries about both Mayor Humdinger of Foggybottom and Mayor Goodway, mayor of Adventure Bay. Sweetie was apparently unsatisfied with what she heard about the governing bodies of the area. Marshall couldn't blame her; they weren't exactly the best nor the brightest.
"If this "Mayor" Humdinger guy is always coming here and causing problems for you, why do you let him into your town?" She asked as they walked. Marshall enjoyed her British accent. It was... different.
"We don't. He just kinda shows up," replied Marshall.
"Have your Alsatian friend toss him in your local dungeon!" She exclaimed incredulously. "He is police, after all." The idea of locking up that cheating, cat-loving fruit-loop made Marshall smile, though he tried not to. "Or banish Humdinger to the Antarctic!" she continued. "A couple of years in the bloody cold has to-"
Marshall's pup tag beeped twice while flashing in tandem with the sound, interrupting Sweetie. Ryder's voice came half a second later:
"Marshall? Do you copy?"
"Yep! Go ahead, Ryder!" Marshall replied.
"I need your truck and ladder, quick. Come down to the-"
Annoyed, and thinking 'oh, no you don't,' Sweetie got uncomfortably close to Marshall and said into the pup tag "Sorry. Marshall would love to stay and chat, but he is tied up at the moment. Maybe leave a message? Ta-ta!"
"Wait, wha-?" Ryder was cut off when, to Marshall's increasing surprise, Sweetie reared up and smacked the tag, abruptly ending the communication.
"Sweetie! Ryder needed me!" Marshall exclaimed, shocked and, quite frankly, a little miffed.
Sweetie smiled... well, sweetly, and a little smugly, looking Marshall in the eyes. She was still really close. "Point of correction: he needed your lorry and ladder. Besides that; do you need to do everything which that bumpkin tells you to?"
"Yes... no!... maybe?... I don't... bumpkin?" Marshall stuttered, not wanting to sound like a pampered purse pup who doesn't do anything aside from whatever he's told. Frustration crawled through him like an army of ants attacking a picnic. "Okay, maybe I don't, but what if it was an emergency?"
Sweetie made a pouty face, ears lowering. "Good thing there are five other pups on your team who know how to drive a fire truck. Anyway, it is rude to interrupt a conversation, especially my conversation." She emphasized that last part with more than a little self importance in her words.
Before Marshall could respond, his tag sounded again.
Sweetie, looking down with a scowl that made her look no less attractive, swatted at the tag again, this time harder. Yet unlike the last time, it didn't stop making noise, but it flew off Marshall's collar and landed about four yards to the right on the town hall green, at the base of the statue of Chickaletta, the mayor's pet chicken, and the said chicken itself.
"Whoops..." Sweetie said as they both watched Chickaletta cock her head and look at the glowing tag. "...what's with the chicken?… and the chicken statue?" asked a very befuddled Sweetie.
"That's the mayor's pet chicken, and don't ask about the statue; no one really knows why it's there."
Just then, Ryder's voice projected from the pup tag: "Marshall? Still there?" Chickaletta picked it up in her beak.
"Wait. Chickaletta, put it down please." Marshall was slowly creeping towards her, Sweetie at his side.
"Drop it, you foul fowl," Sweetie commanded.
The chicken observed them, and then bolted through the grounds and across the street.
"Wait! Chickaletta! I need that!" Marshall yelled, panicked. His legs pumping as he pursued the farm animal.
Sweetie was not far behind: "Blimey! Bring that back or I will have you put in a chicken bucket!" she called.
'Not helping,' Marshall thought.
The two pups chased Chickaletta across the road and to Mr. Porter's café. She dodged underneath outside tables, chairs, and between startled people's legs. The pups charging after her couldn't slow down in time: they slammed into the legs of a man bearing a tray of food. The poor guy let out a surprised yell as he fell backwards onto a table, flipping it while the contents of the tray splattered nearby customers.
"Sorry!" Marshall cried as he and Sweetie kept on their pursuit without a moment's pause. As they sallied forth, Marshall heard a voice right behind him.
"Great! A chase scene! Catch that chicken!"
His head whipped back briefly to see a Beagle pup charging headlong after the chicken with them. Marshall recognized him instantly.
"Who the bloody heck are you?!" Sweetie demanded.
Not missing a step, the newcomer replied: "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Tomissen Hendrick Darian Jasher José Alexandro Di Maria Chiesa Dogsworth the third, esquire. But you can call me Tomissen." Tomissen said all this without taking a breath, even though they were running hard.
Marshall and Sweetie were silent, Marshall never having heard Tomissen's whole name before and quite surprised at the length. Then Sweetie spoke, sounding semi-amused. "Not the longest name I've heard. Well met."
"Question," Tomissen said. "Why are you chasing the chicken?"
"She has my pup tag," Marshall said. "Why are you chasing her?"
"I like chasing things. Can't believe it got your tag AGAIN. Can we eat it when we catch it this time? Please?" He did the puppy dog pout eyes.
Marshall laughed in spite of himself. "No. Goodway wouldn't like that. Let's just hope we catch her before midnight this time."
Now there was Marshall, sitting in front of Zuma and Chase.
"I think it went pretty well." Marshall said casually.
"Wait. Why didn't you ask Everest out?" Chase asked. "She's the one you like." Zuma nodded.
Marshall's face flushed, not liking that this fact appeared to be common knowledge. "Well… it's just. I'm kinda intimidated."
Chase was beside himself in disbelief. "Intimidated? Of Everest? But she's so sweet and kind and gentle."
"Yet you're not intimidated by Sweetie?" Zuma added. "The chick who has repeatedly proven to be greedy and conceited and on multiple occasions has locked us in a dungeon, tricked us, had robo-knights chase us-?"
"And has that creepy frog-doll thing that rolls around by itself?" Chase finished.
"Well... if you say it like that, it does sound kinda totally ridiculous," Marshall admitted.
"Pretty ridiculous," Chase agreed.
"Yeeaaahhh." Zuma said mischievously. "He shouldn't be afraid to ask out a nice, pretty pup by your standards, right lover-boy?"
Chase glared at the Labrador. "Yeah, yeah, Danke. I get it Mr. Flirty MacCool. I don't have a way with every girl in Adventure Bay like you. Everest included."
"Wait... what?!" Marshall said, alarmed.
Zuma waved it off. "Hey, you didn't ask her, so I did. That's how it goes. Would you rather she didn't get to go to the ball, dude?"
Marshall bit his lip. "Promise you'll save her for me, even though you're going out with her? You know what I mean. Please?" He asked hesitantly.
Zuma's nonchalant expression cracked and gave way to sympathy. "Cross my heart, hope to die, dude. I'll leave her to you."
"Thanks." Marshall said with relief.
"Anyway, at least you've got a date. That's more than Chase can claim."
Chase's shoulders sagged and his ears drooped. "Okay, I've got the message. I'll ask Skye. Just... I need some time."
"It's cool," Marshall said, standing. "I can see what I can do to help."
"Yeah, we're with you, dude." Zuma agreed. "Let's go ask Rocky to see if he can help. He always has some sort of good advice."
Marshall and Chase both knew Zuma was right. With no further deliberation, they went to find Rocky.
12:45 AM, Barkingburg.
Darkness covered everything as completely as someone wraps up in a thick blanket in winter. The moon shown brightly upon the city of Barkingburg, where everyone was sleeping. Everyone, except one short figure that stole from shadow to shadow, avoiding the illumination of the street lamps. The figure paused to peer at a device in his hands, the screen glowing ever so faintly. A cool night breeze blew through Harold Humdinger's blond hair. He looked up to see where his instruments pointed him towards a large castle, and towards the energy pulse only detectable by his special made gear.
'Finally,' He thought eagerly. 'If I built this right, and I did, something that gives off the same energies as the Adventure Bay meteor resides underneath that castle. With the amount of power I'm reading, I'll be able to get my super powers back and have tons of energy to spare.'
He chuckled softly. He couldn't wait. Since the royals were all out of the city, sneaking in to locate the source of the energy waves would be a piece of cake. And once he had the power under his dominion, he'd be able to exact his revenge upon Ryder and those pesky Paw Patrol pups that always foiled his schemes.
Harold skulked skillfully through the silence...