"Well, you ain't never caught a rabbit and you ain't no friend of mine."
—Hound Dog
Elvis Presley

This was Hell.

As soon as he disappeared, Lydia let out a mournful cry that quickly dissolved into messy sobs. The fit lasted a good ten minutes before she was able to drag herself out of it, remember his instructions, and focus on being good.

Fifty more minutes.

They dragged on with excruciating slowness as she rushed through finishing her bathing routine as if moving faster would force the hands on the clock to rush too. It did not. All the while she muttered different names aloud, trying them out in her tongue; Abraxas, Shax, Furfur or Murmur. Trying to remember all the different names she could recall from studying demonology and the occult in her spare time helped to distract from the impending sense of doom weighing her down.

Thirty more minutes.

With half an hour left on the clock, it only took her five minutes to make the bed, two to pick an outfit and dress, and ten to do her makeup.

She ended up in a dark purple romper that exposed her legs and shoulders, a black ribbon around the waist to cinch the loose, sturdy fabric and give her more of a shape. Too impatient to bother with complicated eyeshadow, though she probably should have just taken the opportunity to distract herself, she instead drew on a bold cat eye, painted her lips with a creamy coat of black matte lipstick, and dusted her cheekbones, the bow of her lip, and the tip of her nose with a cloud of shimmery lilac dust. Her mass of still-wet hair was thrown into a haphazard up-do just to get it out of the way.

Ten more minutes.

The hour was almost up. He still wasn't back. Lydia paced like a caged animal, almost tripping over Percy as he came to weave through her legs with worried meows.

Two more minutes.

It was too quiet. The air was stifling. Why was it so goddamn hot?!

One more minute.

Surely, he wouldn't notice if she called him early? Of course not. Why would he? Frazzled, mind made up, Lydia was able to get through the first two incantations of his name before he popped into existence in the middle of the room.

"Beej!" She beamed and made a start to hug him, the only thing stopping her from jumping into his arms just like last time was the bundle of whimpering puppy snuggled out of sight under his jacket. She gasped, zeroing in on the lump, already in love without ever seeing the little beast. "Is that…?"

"Woah… hello. When I told ya to get cleaned up I didn't mean wrap yerself like a present, hot damn."

He grinned as she approached slowly, tugging his jacket aside to reveal the squirming bundle of puppy that was doing its best to nurse at the collar of his shirt.

He watched her closely, waiting for a reaction. Her face fell when she saw his ears and tail, still healing from their modifications. He scooped the tiny thing off his chest with a hand under its stomach, plopping him into his new mother's arms. Shit. She was gonna cry, wasn't she?

"Yeah, I didn't get there soon enough, I guess. Usually try to get there soon as they're whelped so they can't dock 'em." Fuck. He'd said too much.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, making a show of being displeased with the little beast. He felt a kick of fire at his fingertips and cursed, holding his pocket open and looking down to see one of the older pups, Matilda, staring back at him and wagging her tail. He held a finger to his lips. Shhh.

Suddenly, all the things he said before about this puppy sunk in as she held the warm ball of fuzz close to her breaking heart. Rough part of town. Rescue.

This was a fighting dog. This poor creature in its short span of life had seen nothing but the absolute worst of what humanity had to offer, his precious ears and tail stolen for no better reason than to line some monster's pockets. At least he never had to see the ring.

"Look what they did to you…"

She breathed out painfully, forcing back tears so as not to muss her makeup. She actually felt pretty for once, a foreign concept. He was black all over, just like her Percy, blinking big dark eyes without any discernible color. Attention focused solely on the baby, she held him up to her face, the moisture in her ducts quickly drying once he started licking blindly at whatever his tongue could reach, releasing adorable little puppy noises intermittently between kisses.

"But you're still so handsome," she praised in a babying voice, puckering her painted lips as she murmured to the pup. "Yes, you are, you're such a handsome boy."

His nubbed tail waggled at this, fracturing her heart further, and she cuddled him close, retreating to the bed so she could sit Indian style atop the covers and watch him walk around on short, wobbly legs.

"Oh, Beej, he's just a baby," she exclaimed with furrowed brows and big eyes as if physically pained by the pup's sheer cuteness. He wobbled nearer and she engaged him in some play, gently knocking him over to scratch his soft belly "Das right, you're just a baby. Who's a good boy? Say I'm a good boy… Do you wanna be my baby…? You can be my baby…"

"That's right, babes. He's all yours." He reached back into his pocket to scratch at Matilda. Just to keep her quiet. Obviously.

He shed the jacket, laying it carefully over a chair before climbing up to lay on the bed. He was immediately assaulted by the tiny black beast, licking and waggling in his face. He grunted, scratching him behind his pointed ears.

"Yeah, you are pretty cute, ain't ya." He was silent for a long moment then cleared his throat, sitting up. "Ya know, he should have a buddy… a friend. Maybe an older dog to teach him the ropes." His eyes flickered to his jacket. "Whatcha think? Get him a big sister or somethin'...? Yer kinda outnumbered here, babes…"

"Percy will be his friend. Won't you, Percy?"

Percy, who was sitting in the doorframe watching the entire disgusting scene with fitting feline arrogance and contempt, twitched his whiskers one way, then another, and showed them both his ass on the way out the door. Lydia scowled.

"Bad cat."

Regardless of Percy's rudeness, Betelguese's proposition was not one someone like Lydia would ever object to. That being said, he was a bad influence on her. Seeing as he was so amenable to the idea of more pets, maybe she could press her luck.

"I've never had a dog before," she admitted, seemingly evading the subject. "Only cats. This house is so huge, we could get another dog if you want… buuut," she drawled, avoiding her husband's gaze and smirking fondly as she was able to get the puppy's leg kicking with a well-placed scratch. "If we do that, it won't be even anymore."

Judging by the blank look on his face, he wasn't getting the picture.

"Well, first it was just you, and me, and Percy. And things have been… off. Now we have… Beelzebub?" The puppy yipped in approval, making Lydia's smirk break into a fully-fledged grin. "Beelzebub, and I don't know about you, but this feels right. Balanced. Like something was missing and now it's not anymore. So we could get another dog, but then the balance would be off again."

Frowning at her insane logic as though it was nothing less than absolute fact and science, she nodded, already convinced that she was right.

"Yep. No way around it. We would have to get another cat too. It's only right."

He thought through her argument a moment. He supposed that if she wanted a house full of animals, then he could oblige. Maybe with babies at home to care for she wouldn't get so hung up on leaving with him when he had business to attend to.

"Fine. But it has to be white. Then they'll match."

At her confused look, he grinned, sliding out of bed and collecting his trench coat. He held it up as though he were a matador, ready to face a bull, and shook it. He whistled, a high-pitched, sharp sound, and a dog appeared from behind his jacket as he twirled it out of the way.

She was huge. Easily the size of a small pony, and a pure silky white. Her eyes, as she was calm, were an icy blue as she stood on her hind legs to rest her paws on his shoulders, her whole body moving with the wagging of her tail. If you hadn't known better, someone might think they were looking at a massive wolf, not a dog at all.

Betelgeuse laughed, digging his hands into her sides to scratch her, baby talking to the giant beast as though she were the same size as Beelzebub.

"There's my girl! Who's my baby? Yes! Look at you, big girl."

The dog licked his face before dropping down to come and sniff at the puppy, her tail wagging harder.

He ran a hand through his hair and bowed playfully. "May I present Matilda. Tilly for short. She's actually his sister… or half-sister, I guess. Same mother though. Theodosia." He came to pat Tilly on the head and she leaned into him, nearly pushing him over.

Lydia stared in awe of the regal beast, never once fearing for the sweet puppy as she came nearer to sniff and lick curiously, tail wagging amicably. There was no threat there, though it was clear this was a dog that could do some damage if she wanted to.

"Hello, beautiful," she greeted gently, patting the bed in invitation for Matilda to join them. She wasted no time in accepting, immediately hauling the mass of snowy fur that was her body onto the bed in one graceful leap. When Lydia politely offered up her palm for a sniff, Matilda gave it a lick.

"This is your big sister, Bubby," she informed the equally curious puppy waddling in between the wolf's long legs in exploration. Tilly was huge, easily thrice as big as her. However, when the she-beast stepped forward to press her face against Lydia's shoulder in a nuzzle, knocking her on her back in the process, Lydia remained unthreatened.

Both Bubby and his sister were quick to take advantage, crowding on top of her and attacking her face with wet, sloppy kisses. She laughed, a joyous shrieking string of sound, happy tears gathering in the corner of her eyes the longer they held her pinned.

"Beej!" She gasped, turning her face so they wouldn't lick inside her mouth. "Help! Help! Stop!"

Tilly was excitable and nearly crushed Lydia trying to lay in her lap. Betel couldn't think of a time he'd seen his wife so purely delighted.

He joined them on the bed, tugging at Tully's scruff until she rolled onto her back, her tongue lolling out of her mouth. He scratched her belly happily.

"Aww yeah… I missed you, ya big lug." He tucked his head into her large chest, looking nearly like a child cuddled up to the massive beast.

To Lydia, the only thing more fantastic about this day than either Bubby or Tilly was Beej. She had him all wrong. Everyone did. He knew this dog. He knew its mother. He saved her babies. He was more than just "the bad guy." Was he a monster? Maybe. But, he was a monster that rescued puppies in his spare time.

Never before had she been more smitten with him than she was at this moment, watching him love the dog he'd clearly always wanted and just needed an excuse to keep. Why else was he only just now introducing them? Maybe he didn't think he could care for a dog properly on his own. Or, maybe he didn't think himself good enough for that kind of unconditional love. Lydia's heart, battered and bruised as it was, shattered completely at the thought as she cuddled up on the opposite side of Tilly's chest, scratching at places Betelgeuse wasn't already taking care of.

"I love you," she uttered, firm with her conviction, staring into his serenely smiling, carefree face, though it appeared he'd yet to realize he was the one on the receiving end of her declaration and not either of the panting balls of fur.

I love you.

"I know, aren't they the sweetest? I'll take ya some time to visit…" His eyes found hers, smiling at him in a way that said she knew what this dog meant to him. "Uh… to visit Elysium. It's a rescue… Uh. That's where Tilly's been."

He wasn't used to so much… affection. Even Lydia seemed to love him with a grain of salt. With the understanding that he was a monster, and an evildoer and there wasn't anything more to it. But now… it was like she saw. She was looking straight into his soul.

He reached across to caress her cheek gently, smiling. "I love you. Are ya happy, baby? Ya like your babies?" He chuckled. Now just to find her a cat. He was sure he'd hear about that again.

"I love my babies," she corrected, pulling the puppy up into a hug as she nuzzled into the larger one's deep fur until the four of them formed a veritable "dog pile." The only one missing was Percy, and Lydia knew he would take some time to adjust to a change this big.

"I think Percy's jealous," she imparted, only vaguely concerned, but sympathetic nonetheless. "I'll have to give him something special for dinner."

The mention of dinner brought a rumble to her stomach. It had been a while since she'd had a decent home-cooked meal.

"I want to barbecue today." Lydia was in a light, whimsical mood and eager to chase the feeling, latching on to any impulse that sounded like a good idea. "That way I can play fetch and cook. I bet you're an excellent fetcher," she complimented Tilly, whose giant dog grin widened in response.

"Maybe go swimming. I haven't been in the pool since…" She let the sentence trail off, not wishing to dampen the mood. "But you're here. And it's warm out. Does that sound okay to you?"

He hummed softly, considering the offer. "Yeah… a cookout sounds great." He sat up and Tilly immediately squirmed to follow him, bounding off of the bed and grinning before letting out a soft boof sound coming back to the bed, licking at the puppy as though to encourage him to get up and join her.

Eventually, she got tired of waiting and very carefully took him by the scruff of his neck, her eyes on Lydia the whole time. Betel chuckled and patted her flank. "Take the baby and get outta here, you lump."

He waved a hand over himself and was suddenly clothed in a truly ugly Hawaiian shirt and shorts, holding his hand out for his wife to join him. "Get changed and meet us out back? Let's get our summer on, babes!"

By the time she threw a bikini on under her romper, seasoned ground beef for burgers, formed the patties, and juggled all that along with buns, cheese, condiments, and a plate of sliced pineapple— for good measure— out the patio doors, Betelgeuse already had the grill open and lit for her.

"Thank you," she called out across the yard to him with a bright grin, not expecting that kind of consideration on his part. He was usually clueless when it came to anything food-related, though she would give that he made a mean cup of tea.

He was in the midst of an intense game of fetch. Much like their wedding night, Part I, he would wind up like a proper pitcher before throwing a baseball into the nearby woods with such force and velocity that it left licks of flame in its wake, tearing down branches as it flew past. Tilly was similarly ferocious. She stayed tense and ready to go at his side until the ball was release and then she was gone in a blur of white, only to trot back minutes later; ball in mouth, tongue lolling, and tail wagging.

Bubby was at Betelgeuse's feet, playing with a smaller ball. Whenever Tilly was off on one of her fetches, the ghoul would take this time to entertain the puppy with smaller, more reasonable tosses for a baby of his size.

Lydia's heart clenched. Percy watched from behind the glass doors, absolutely seething.

Betelgeuse loved dogs. He thought that he'd maybe had one in life, but he couldn't recall. Regardless, he'd been rescuing puppies from Hugo's mill for years. Tilly had been the first. He'd gone in to bet on a dog and walked away with a puppy he had no idea what to do with.

He turned when she called out to him, waving at her gentle thanks. Bubby scrambled to his feet, barking and galloping toward his mother and jumping at her ankles.

Betel took a moment to really wind up a shot before letting go, Tilly taking off across the yard just long enough for him to slide in behind his wife and press a kiss to her neck. "Mmm. You're welcome. Thought it'd be nice if you could just get goin'… I know you're hungry."

He rubbed a hand over her stomach, sighing happily. When had he become so… soft? When had his source of joy shifted from terrorizing others to a night in his back yard with his wife and his dogs?

Lydia had never been able to participate in a cookout like this before, not with her heliophobic flesh. It was the same reason she didn't get to swim very often, the same reason she had never swum in the ocean despite her father and Delia dragging her off on numerous vacations to their home in the Hamptons. Those days usually saw Lydia locked up inside or watching enviously from beneath an umbrella and multiple layers of sunscreen that didn't seem to do anything.

This wasn't the case in the Neitherworld. Here, she could traipse about butt naked if she wanted to and never see a burn. Even so, she kept her romper on while she flipped burgers and nibbled on pieces of pineapple, using a barefoot to play with Bubby as he tried his best to distract her. He ended up getting an entire patty to himself once they were done. Tilly, being larger, got two. With a bun and cheese.

Lydia only ate one herself, with all the trappings that were unfit for canine consumption. Something told her "Hell Hounds" probably didn't adhere to the same stipulations that normal dogs did, but they looked and acted like normal dogs. Better to play it safe.

By now, Percy's distaste had evolved into outright melancholy. He was frowning behind the glass, each whisker pointed at the ground as he watched his family play without him.

"Aww, Beej," Lydia brought the situation to her husband's attention as he stuffed his face with his third burger. "Look at Percy. He's so sad. I haven't seen anything big enough to eat him out here. Are you sure he can't be an outside cat? He's always been one, he hates being locked up inside."

Betelgeuse fixed the cat with a look. Well. It did look rather miserable. He went to the door and opened it, whistling for Tilly. She bounced over, ducking down to sniff at Percy as he stepped outside. Her tail slowly started to wag, then faster, and by the time he was all the way in the lawn she was following him like a duckling.

"There. Tilly can take care of him." He scooped up Bubby, holding him over his head and blowing a raspberry in his face.

Percy was understandably intimidated by the hulking wolf-dog following behind him but after several minutes like this the fur on his back unbristled. It didn't take him long to discover that he could climb places his big white shadow couldn't, and was quick to settle at the end of a drooping branch on a tree at the edge of the yard. Tilly, having never met a cat in her life, was alarmed by her new puppy's suicidal jumping and climbing about, and settled herself right underneath him where he would have a cushy landing if he fell.

"They're sooooo cuuuuute," Lydia extolled, heart full as she snapped photos from a distance. Betelgeuse had summoned her camera when she asked. Being a baby, Bubby was all tuckered out by now, on his back in the poltergeist's lap releasing tiny little snores.

Lydia was ready to swim, but she'd been lollygagging to avoid stripping down. The swimsuit she wore was not her usual plain one piece— which had suspiciously disappeared to places unknown. No, this was without a doubt the skimpiest thing she had ever worn. The bottoms were little more than triangles and string, so little material left for the backside that no matter what she did it wedged up her ass to form a thong.

The top had a bit of padding and the stringy halter straps pulled her small breasts up and together, forcing cleavage and giving the illusion that they were bigger than they actually were. Simultaneously nervous and excited, she stood at the edge of the pool and shimmied out of the romper with her back to him, too shy to face his reaction head-on. Once stripped, she dove into the deep end, smoothly gliding across the bottom until she emerged dripping on the other side, at peace. Swimming was one of her favorite hobbies and it was unfortunate she didn't get to more often.

"You don't have to swim if you don't want," she reminded him as she trod along, enjoying the weightless feeling. Her makeup had remained stubbornly in place, though she had no way of knowing this. Yes, she looked every bit a proper goth trophy wife enjoying her husband's riches.

"… but I think you'd have more fun playing lifeguard in here than out there."

His eyes snapped to his wife as her skin was revealed. His tongue rolled out of his mouth and he was on his feet in an instant. He dropped Bubby next to Tilly, who looked up and huffed at her master briefly.

"Tilly, watch the babies…" He was suddenly running headlong for the pool, jumping in with a resounding splash as his shirt vanished.

He slid in behind her, his hands roaming her bare midriff and up to hold her close against him. "You were right… view is much better in here. Even if it's wet."

For all her enticing him, she was frustratingly giggly and squirmy once he was in there, grimy claws sliding all over her.

"You're slimy!"

Miraculously, none of his filth managed to rub off on her and she suspected his juice was to thank. After a splashing bout of tickle wrestling where he was merciless and she put up a valiant effort but ultimately didn't make any leeway, she surrendered. Legs around his waist and arms around his neck, she held on breathlessly, using him as a floating device.

"Today was a good day. Thank you, Beej…"

She kissed him then; sweet and easy, fingers curling into his oily, tangled hair, smoother now wet than it was dry.

"I can't wait to teach Beelzebub all sorts of tricks. Sit, and rollover, and play dead. Does Tilly know tricks? Our bed is going to be full from now on, I guess…"

He was happy to appease her apparent need for closeness, holding her up with one hand on the back of her thigh. She wasn't exactly heavy, even with the weight she'd put on since they'd been married. He loved her body in any iteration, but if asked he'd admit to liking her better with some meat on her bones.

Tricks. "She's a Hell Hound! A fighting dog. She don't do tricks other than Sic 'em and fetch." In truth, he didn't know. He'd dropped her off at Elysium and set a date to come to visit her, once a year like clockwork up until his imprisonment.

"And no dogs on the bed! You can sleep with me, or with the mutts, but I ain't wakin' up to a tail in my face unless it's yours. Capice?"

He lifted his wife up onto the edge of the pool and leaned up to kiss her gently. He knew he wasn't exactly a swimwear model, but she seemed happy enough with him despite his slime and lichen.

He buried his face into her barely covered bosom and stayed there for a few long minutes, rubbing his hands up her thighs. "Hey. Love you." She knew that. But after the last few days, it felt important to reiterate.

Things like physical appearance were low on Lydia's priority list when it came to how she judged other people. Their actions and how they treated their peers were much more important. These aspects of Betelgeuse's character also left something to be desired, but he loved her and treated her well and that's all that mattered to Lydia. That he was an excellent fur-Daddy was just a bonus.

Love you, he reminded just as she was thinking something along the same lines.

"Love you," she parroted cutely, beaming and pecking his nose. It was a sickeningly sweet moment, in tandem with the rest of the day with the exception of the hour he was gone. Lydia knew she was being irrational, but she couldn't help it. He was her whole world now, she didn't have anyone else.

How much time had passed above? Months? Years? Was the house on the hill empty now, or did some other family live there unencumbered the supernatural intervention? Maybe one day he would bring her back to see, dwell on nostalgia. One thing was for certain; it would be a long time before she would be ready to face Adam and Barbara as she was now. They wouldn't even recognize her.

Despite her open-mindedness for other people's appearances, Lydia was not so kind to herself. The way the strings on her bikini bottoms dug into the fleshy area around her hips made her self-consciousness and so she fiddled with it, pulling the strings higher up toward her waist to little effect.

"I'm getting fat. Tomorrow we're having salad for dinner."

He watched her fuss, a frown coming over his face. "Yer what? Babes, you're just now gettin' healthy. And I don't eat green shit unless it's surrounded by stuff that's bad for ya."

He slipped his fingers into her skinny straps of her swim bottoms, pulling them back and letting them snap against her, enjoying the way they made her skin jiggle slightly.

"Yer not fat. Yer healthy, and gorgeous and soft. And I love it… ya can't take it away from me now." He caressed her thighs, then her ass, fingertips eventually sliding up to her smooth stomach. He pinched playfully at the skin there. "Lookit this. Nothin'!"

He ducked down to press a kiss to her belly button. He didn't know how to make her feel as beautiful as she was, but he could sure as hell try.

She giggled, flushing dark as he pinched and prodded and pet, insisting upon his adoration for her body. Him being who he was, she wasn't about to debate it. How could she? He was just so undeniably… handsome… in his own unique way.

"If you say so…"

Maybe she did look better like this and just needed to adjust to the feel of her changed body. She wasn't used to things other than her breasts jiggling when she moved, and was only very slowly growing accustomed to showing this much skin.

"Nobody's ever said things like that to me… the kind of things that you say. I never thought I would ever be married, or… in love…" The color in her cheeks deepened. "Ever. It just didn't seem like anything that would ever happen for me. I really didn't think you would still be interested, when I called you that night in the graveyard… I'm glad you were."

"Well, people up top must be more stupid than I remember. You're so perfect." She tried to shake her head to disagree and he caught her chin, one clawed finger rubbing over her soft cheek.

"Eep! No arguing. Not right now. I'm gonna be fuckin' vulnerable for a second so buckle up."

He pressed his forehead to hers and took a deep, unnecessary breath. "I didn't think I was ever gonna find love either. Sarah… the girl who fell through the ice… she didn't love me. Not really. She was just stickin' with me because—"

His voice cut out, and he cleared his throat, shaking his head slightly. Easier not to look at her. His eyes closed, memories flowing behind their lids. "I knocked her up. And back then, that made her my wife."

He ran his hands slowly down her arms. "But She didn't love me. Didn't even like me. I loved her more than anything, though. Well. Not more'n you, but I didn't know then, huh? Point is."

"When I offed myself and ended up in the waiting room, I thought maybe she'd want me back. We could be happy together. I sent her a message from the office and… she never came. Ain't nobody ever come back for me. Until you."

Lydia stayed very still and silent for his confession. Rarely did he talk about his living life and she always relished more information, eager to soak up whatever knowledge she could about her mysterious lover.

Sarah. A flame of ugly jealousy flared at the back of her skull now that she had a name. She was probably beautiful. This woman got to carry his baby and she didn't even appreciate it. Lydia would never get to experience such a thing and felt a wave of sadness wash over her as the realization occurred.

"What happened to the…?"

His silence spoke volumes, and Lydia hated herself for the selfish thoughts that filtered through her head just moments prior. Of course. He would have said something by now if he had a child, alive or dead.

"Oh, Beej," she breathed painfully against his lips, their foreheads still pressed together. "You would have been a wonderful father."

This was ages out of her league. Heavy and adult, and she felt inadequate that there was nothing good enough to say, nothing that would fill the void.

"I honestly didn't think you would come," she hushed awkwardly, relating back to them and away from his failed relationship with this Sarah woman. "I thought maybe… the sandworm killed you. The permanent kind. That is was my fault. If you hadn't come, I don't know what I was going to do. Maybe pay a hobo to kill me… Stupid."

"Hey. Yer talkin' about my wife, ya know."

His eyes finally opened and he pulled her closer, forcing her knees up toward his shoulder blades. "I'm glad ya called me. Juno woulda told me in ya turned up in the waiting room, and I… I dunno what I would have done."

It was true. The person he was when she'd called him back was so far removed of the him of today. He didn't know what to make of that, other than the fact that Lydia was clearly the cause of the change for the better.

"I was pissed. Angry… for so many centuries that I think I forgot how to be happy. Depression, I guess. But. Mad." He nuzzled into her gently, his hands still roaming her thighs. "You fixed me. No idea how, but ya did it. And I'm gonna spend the rest of eternity tryin' to thank you for it."

He smiled softly, pulling her off the edge of the pool and back into the water. "Now! We were havin' a real fun family day before I brought it down. I say we get back to it! Wanna go dry off and watch a movie? I bet all four of us fit on that couch if we squeeze."

"Five," she corrected with a big smile, accounting for Percy even though she knew he wouldn't be cozying up to the hounds any time soon.

She was right, he didn't, and they did all fit on the couch— when she sat in Betelgeuse's lap, anyway. Tilly took it upon herself to carry Bubby up with her before either of them could, plopping the baby down in between she and her master as she curled up, occupying the entire rest of the couch with her mass.

The film of the night was Cujo. It seemed appropriate, everything considered. When it came time for the beastly St. Bernard to eat a bullet, Tilly covered her eyes with paws. Bubby was too far gone in puppy slumber to be subjected to the grizzly scene. Percy watched from a dark corner of the room, whiskers twitching with pleasure.

Lydia didn't bear witness, having fallen asleep curled against him in one of her silky nightgowns not even half an hour into the movie. She'd seen it already, anyway.

Cuddled up with his makeshift family, Betel was happier than he could remember being in recent history. As the film ended he whistled at Tilly, pointing to the puppy.

She dutifully took him in her mouth, climbing off the couch and waiting for him at the door. He scooped his wife into his arms and headed out, glancing back at the pouting cat. "Well, come on Percy. Bedtime. Ya know she won't sleep without ya."

He tucked his wife in, Tilly curling around her baby in front of the fire. The whole scene was painfully domestic. He tucked his wife in and kissed her forehead. He really had to get some work done.

He closed the door quietly behind him, walking up the hall to his office.