"Puppies"

A ball of brown fluff slammed into Becky's legs, and she nearly fell over. It was a few disorienting seconds before she registered that the ball of fluff in question was, in fact, a small dog. A puppy, judging by the size of its paws in relation to the rest of its body.

"Are you okay, Beck?" Steve said, clutching her arm. She scowled at him, just as a man hurried over and scooped up the yapping dog. It squirmed in his arms, trying to get to Becky.

"Leo, calm down!" he hissed. "You don't run into ladies like you're a steamroller, remember?"

Leo tilted his head and barely managed to lick the man's chin before returning his attention to Becky. He renewed his struggles, tail thwacking through the air.

"Becky, this is Phil Coulson, our handler," Steve said. "And… one of his dogs. Leo."

"I think someone was being ironic when they named him after a lion," Coulson said, moving Leo to the crook of his arm. "Steve said you were okay with dogs, not allergic or anything, and I need to take them for a run."

"My offer to walk them still stands."

"No. It's an excuse for me to get more exercise."

"And meet women."

Coulson glared at Steve, and then held out his hand to Becky. She shook it gingerly, and glanced at Leo.

"You have more?" she asked.

"Yes, but they're usually not a problem. I keep them on my floor most of the time. But the sooner they get to know your scent, the better. I promise, they're well trained. Leo just likes meeting new people." He whistled, and a motley assortment of other dogs ran through to them. Coulson whistled again when they tried to approach Becky, and they stopped. He placed Leo on the floor beside a much larger dog, at least four times the size of the puppy. "Leo's a chocolate labrador puppy. Why they can't just say 'brown' is beyond me. Uh, Mack is a bull mastiff. He came with the name Alphonso, but he chose to ignore it, and... well, he likes McDonald's, so we call him Mack."

"Phil picks up strays, and if no one claims them at the shelter, he usually ends up buying them himself," Steve explained. Becky tried to pay attention to the dogs, but she found it hard to drag her eyes away from Coulson (was she supposed to call him Phil?) as he introduced May, Skye, Jemma, Hunter, Trip, and Bobbi. It seemed human strays weren't the only type he picked up.

"…had one called Grant, I named him after Steve, but then one day he ran away, and I learned my lesson. Never name a pet after someone you know, because if they…" Coulson (or Phil) trailed off. Becky wondered what happened to Grant, but she wasn't sure whether she could take the liberty of asking. If she paid more attention, maybe she'd learn what happened to him.

"It's nice," she said, and when she only got questioning looks from the humans she realised what that sounded like. "Not losing a pet, I mean. But… takin' `em in like that."

"The ones nobody else wants," Steve said softly. "Or can afford to keep."

Coulson-or-Phil fidgeted, much like Leo had squirmed before. "It's just… it's the right thing to do. What would…" He glanced at Steve. "What would anyone do?"

"Not as much as you do for them," Steve said. "Y'know, Becky always loved dogs, but we couldn't get one `cause I might've been allergic, and they weren't cheap to look after. She liked talking to single men with dogs, though. Especially the ones with mutts." He patted Becky on the shoulder, and she stared at him as she realised that she'd been set up. "I'm getting a drink."

He strolled off, and some of the dogs trotted after him. Wrong-footed and blushing, Becky squatted down by the remaining pups, and held out her flesh hand. Leo and Mack turned out to be far more interested in her metal arm, but Jemma was happy to lick her fingers, and Becky giggled at the ticklish sensation. She crooked her fingers around to scratch behind the puppy's ears, and heard a small sigh. She looked up, and saw that Coulson's attention was on them, a smile softening his features. When their eyes met, she stood up, biting her lower lip as her heart skipped a beat.

Damn it, Steve, she thought.

No one can resist puppies. Except those who are allergic, or are strictly cat people, or don't have souls…

The point is, Dog Day. I wrote a Phucky (in this case Phecky?) fic with always-a-girl!Bucky and dog-lover!Phil, where 'Agents of SHIELD' characters are strays he's eventually adopted. Couldn't resist the notion, especially of puppy!Fitz. I mean, Fitz is half-puppy in nature, let's be honest.

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