Title: Starfleet Hero, Doggy Style

Author: Tsuev

Genre: Action/Humor

Rating: PG

Summary: Porthos gets himself kidnapped! Will Archer come to the rescue still in time?

AN: Thanks to vanillafluffy, The Libran Iniquity, Sita, Rinne, Exploded Pen and Gabi for reviewing. Hope you like Chapter 4, please r&r!

Chapter 4

After Porthos had waited for another fifteen minutes, he finally heard the clicking of the paws on the concrete floor returning. He pricked up his ears, and realized that this time it was only one dog approaching the cell. The door slid open, confirming his guess. A dog was standing in the doorframe, carrying a plate with two of those meaty rubber balls on his back. He let out a short bark and stood the plate on the floor in front of Porthos. Then he briefly wagged his tail, turned around and left. After he had locked the door Porthos listened apprehensively until he was absolutely sure the guard was gone. then he got up.

Briefly, he considered eating the food, but then decided against, feeling he wouldn't be able to keep anything down anyway. Pushing the plate aside, he turned to the water bowl. He drank a few sips, then tried to knock it over, and after several futile attempts he was successful. The water splashed to the floor, forming a big dark puddle.

Carefully, Porthos took the bowl in his mouth and once again cursed the fact that dogs had no thumbs.

Well, at least Terran dogs don't have them.

Slowly, he lifted his head, and realized that the bowl wasn't as heavy as he had expected. He looked up at the edge of the table, crouched and bit down a little harder, so he wouldn't lose his grip when he jumped. Then he pushed himself off the ground as hard as he could. He shot up, and managed to grab hold of the edge of the table with his claws. Since his snout was over the tabletop already he let go of the bowl, then let himself slide back down.

Well, at least the bowl is where I want it.

Porthos prepared himself for another jump, pushed himself off the floor and with an effort he managed to push his upper body onto the table top. Digging his claws into the wooden surface, he kicked out with his hind legs and finally his left paw found the table leg, and he was able to push himself fully onto the table.

Panting heavily, Porthos shook his head to rid himself of the dizzy spell that was threatening to overwhelm him. It seemed the strain was catching up with him; his side was aching, and all four of his legs hurt like hell. But he ignored it; giving up now would be the coward's way out. He couldn't let Jon down.

Shaking himself, he began to examine the window. It did look like plain old glass, so there should be no problem in smashing it. Looking down, however, he felt his throat tighten up.

The ground was at least two or maybe even two and half meters below, and all he could see was a big meadow, a few bushes here and there and a forest nearby.

Well, at least no cliffy canyon with a roaring river running through it...

He'd simply have to try. The worst thing that could happen was breaking a leg, after all. Even though, Porthos decided after a moment's thought, breaking a leg didn't sound all that tempting, either. Briefly, he closed his eyes, then took the bowl in his mouth. Standing right in front of the window, he slammed it against the glass as hard as he could. There was an ugly crunching sound, and a crack formed in the windowpane. Again he lowered his head, and then snapped it up as quickly as he could. The stone bowl slammed into the window and the glass shattered, leaving an opening big enough for Porthos to crawl through. He felt something like triumph, mixed with growing anxiety, form in his chest when he put the bowl back onto the table and carefully stuck his head out the window.

A hard lump formed at the bottom of his stomach when he saw how far away the ground was. Carefully, he also pushed his front paws through the opening and rested them on the narrow window sill outside. He would have to jump and at the same time pull his hind legs through the broken window.

No doubt he was going to cut himself, but there was no other way. Again, he checked that none of the dogs were standing guard outside. But there was no one in sight. Taking a deep breath, Porthos bent forward and pushed his front paws away from the window sill, at the same time quickly lifting his hind legs. He felt the sharp edges of the glass scratching his flanks and legs, then another sharp stab of pain shot up his left front paw and the world turned black.

XXX

Waking up, Porthos threw a dazed look around and realized that he was lying right below the broken window. He'd landed on the grass, and had apparently been unconscious for only a few minutes. Only then did he become aware of the throbbing pain that had its origin in his left front paw. When he looked down at his leg, his eyes widened. His paw was twisted at an odd angle, and felt strangely numb. So he'd broken his leg, after all.

His sides had suffered as well, sporting several bloody cuts, some of them still bleeding. Porthos closed his eyes. All he wanted to do was lie down and go to sleep, but that was out of the question. He still had to get away from those dogs, and if he stayed here they would find him more sooner than later, that much was for sure. He had to go and find Jon.

Slowly getting up, Porthos let out a small whimper, careful not to bring his injured leg in contact with ground. It still hurt like hell. Porthos scrunched his eyes shut and waited for the worst of the pain to pass. If he didn't move his foot, all he felt was that numbness and a slight throbbing. He walked a step, and realized that he could do it, holding up the injured limb and putting all weight on his good front paw.

His vision grew dizzy. He felt nausea rise within him, and his injured sides were burning like hell, the throbbing in his head adding to the pain. Porthos knew he wouldn't be able to keep this up for long, but he had to try and keep going as long as he could. He had to make it to the edge of the forest, at the very least. Find a hiding place, or the dogs would find him again, as they had the first time. Another stab of pain seared through his paw, and Porthos howled softly. Slowly, meter by meter, the forest was coming closer. Porthos swallowed and kept on hobbling, feeling his sore hind paws starting to give way under him.

Finally he'd reached the forest. For a brief moment he paused and looked around. He was on one of the paths leading deeper into the woods, one of the paths his big furry friends had created. Suddenly a familiar scent wafted around his nose, and Porthos straightened up. He knew that smell, spicy and clean, sterile, in a way. Definitely T'Pol. She had to be somewhere near. Porthos tried to speed up his pace, but immediately felt another dizzy spell wash over him, oblivion slowly creeping closer. But he couldn't give up now, he had to make T'Pol aware that he was here. He tried to bark, but all that came out was a hoarse gasp.

He noticed that something was coming towards him, walking down the very path he was sitting on. Porthos simply stayed where he was; there was no sense in trying to hide himself. All he could do was hope that it was indeed T'Pol coming down the path.

When he saw her, he stopped fighting the blackness that was threatening to engulf him. In a way he almost welcomed the feeling. His paw was broken, his body was sore and hurting, he was exhausted and on the verge of physical collapse, but he was safe.

The last thing he felt was T'Pol carefully picking him up, then the blackness closed over him and Porthos knew no more.

TBC...

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