Through his still and dark eyes he could see them. The scent of them filled his nostrils.
He had almost been tricked a couple of times but the scent always gave the others away. He knew it wasn't really them.
But these two. He knew right away it was them. Even though the other one was missing. He didn't care much for the third one, anyways. She was never really very nice to him. But he supposed he missed her all the same. He liked to poke his nose in her boot and drool there. He knew it upset her and inwardly he thought it was very funny although he would pretend to be sad when she admonished him for the act.
But he did like how she smelled.
And he liked the fuzzy-haired one's boots.
And the big bald guy, Jet, and how he rubbed the nape of his neck.
He missed them.
He rested beneath the table in one of the alleys. His head lay on its side against the dusty floor and he waited for someone to drop some food from the table top. He watched the fuzzy-haired one eat a pastry at the end of the alley. The bald one leaned against the wall across from him sipping something from a paper cup. He missed the weight of the bald one's cybernetic hand on the top of his head.
He licked at his nose and felt one of his back legs twitch with the movement. He snuffled at the ground and decided to go pay the two a visit.
Perhaps they would be happy to see him.
It's been ages in dog years.
* * *
"Spike, we're getting lazy. We should stop eating and do something. Try to find the director or a writer or someone." Jet took a long swig of what was left of his coffee. It was too sweet. He had gotten excited when he saw the sugar and thought he'd give himself a treat, drinking his coffee with cream and sugar for a change. His tastebuds had gotten used to the bitter coffee-like substance on the ship.
He watched Spike with lemon filling on his chin. Spike was enjoying the spread so much he wasn't even grinning like usual. He had this determined look on his face. Like he was going to clear the table of its contents. Jet was glad he wouldn't have to hear Spike complain about the lack of food on the ship for a while. Just a while, though.
Spike pushed the rest of the danish into his mouth and reached to the ground for his cup of coffee, crumbs tumbling from the corners of his lips.
"Okay." He said. "I'll just finish my coffee and we'll start. I promise."
"Alright." Jet figured he might as well have another danish himself while Spike was drinking his coffee. He backed up from the mouth of the alley. That's when he heard a squeal.
"What?" Spike looked up from his cup towards Jet.
"Someone's dog." He said. He turned his body to face whatever he had almost threatened to crush with his hulking figure. The stubby welsh corgi snuffled at the ground then raised his head to look up at Jet.
"Our dog." Jet said.