The alleyway was dimly lit in hot pink, and the buzzing of neon signs firmly latched on the brick wall displayed their message in bright colors. It was late Autumn, and the light rainfall resulted in a rather cold night, leading many strays among the city's dark corners to seek out the neon signs. Beneath each one was a simple door, a door that led to what many considered a safe haven from the darkness that lurked outside.

The Dreaming Glass was a bar unlike any other. While not as high class as some places the humans had access to, several dogs who passed through found solace inside its warm walls, a flicker of bliss burning in their hearts upon seeing the friendly smile of the bartenders. It was a humble, old-fashioned place, with wood-slated walls and a shiny black floor. If one was not sitting in one of the many booths, they would find themselves at the heart and soul of the restaurant, the bar itself.

Chase pushed his nose through the door, happy to get out of the rain. He was cold and tired, his tail drooping behind him and ears flattered with no strength to keep them up. His police uniform was slightly damp, collecting the rain that only made the bitter cold even worse. As the warmth washed over him, he felt his muscles relax, and he sighed in relief, happy to finally get a break. The pub overall had a relaxed atmosphere, with faint music playing in the back, getting into your head and washing away the intrusive thoughts that had plagued a person all day. Nothing was too much, the lowlight and modern design were more than appealing.

There had been a brutal collision on the highway around noon. Chase was called to the scene almost immediately, kickstarting him into action at the sight of the mess. An overturned car, another one in flames, screaming, debris everywhere, and the never-ending honking of others just trying to get past. He stayed out there in the cold rain for bitter hours, noting each detail of the scene and doing his job to ensure the safety of everyone involved. Eventually, the cars were towed away, debris cleaned up, people rushed to the hospital, and it wasn't until the moon was high in the sky that Chase could finally leave. Eager to relieve the stress of the hardworking day, the exhausted Shepherd entered a certain alleyway, seeking out The Dreaming Glass.

He walked up to the bar and climbed up on the red, leather stool, happy to finally sit down. The bar was polished in brilliant silver and decorated with black trim. Past it, a large wall of bottles stretched high to the ceiling, totally nearly four dozen different available drinks. It was remarkable the menu options in a place like this, but most only desired the one drink they've enjoyed all throughout their life.

"Evening, officer," spoke up the Labrador wiping down the bar, and giving Chase a soft smile.

Chase returned the greeting, briefly resting his head on the surface, "hey Zuma, it's been a long day."

Things don't always stay the same, eventually, some things tended to change. As the years went by, Zuma soon left the patrol, seeking out a life in the city. Everyone was sad to see him go, especially Rocky, but the Lab promised he'd write to them. A few months later, the room of The Lookout was filled with stunned expressions upon reading Zuma's most recent letter: He had opened a bar called The Dreaming Glass.

"Not to be mean, but you look terrible," Zuma said apologetically, "what can I pour you?"

"I was actually just planning on getting food," Chase shrugged, "what kind of sauce do the wings come with?"

"Honey Mustard, Teriyaki, Ranch, Buffalo, pick your poison," chuckled the Lab, showing a clear passion for his work, "or you could get them plain."

"Plain then."

Zuma quickly turned and made haste to a small opening in the wall, a window into the back kitchen from which steam was slowly escaping, "Basket of wings, Pete, no sauce!" he briefly turned back to his customer, "you want fries with that?"

The police dog shook his head no, rubbing his eyes while Zuma finalized his order. "Dude, you should've seen the wreck," he muttered, "I don't know if some idiot was on their phone, but it was messy."

"Sounds like a lot," Zuma frowned, "are you sure you don't want a glass? I could make you something simple."

"Uhm," the Shepherd scrunched up his face, "alright, surprise me."

Zuma laughed and shook his head, "always one for surprises. So how's life back at home with the others?"

"Rubble's in some trouble with the law," Chase said reluctantly, "didn't think he had it in him."

"Really?" the Lab inquired, pulling out a tall, wide-brimmed glass. In a swift motion, he coated the rim in salt.

"And Rocky's trying to start some kind of 'Green Movement,'" he made quotations with his paws, "but he's not really getting any followers so it's kind of depressing."

The Lab shrugged, "he always did seize his own ambitions," he started grabbing a few bottles and pouring them into a silver shaker. "What about Marshall?"

Chase's heart skipped a beat. Life had caught up with him, and the call to work had been slowly etching into his home life. He had become distant with the others, seeking to be the police officer he always promised himself to be, rising up from his puppyhood as a stray and taking into law enforcement. However, one of his friends still remained on his mind the more he matured. While Rocky and Skye were friendly but distant, and everyone tried to forget about Rubble, a certain Dalmation had stayed within his head. Marshall, the firefighter, had been a long-time close friend of his, and one he always tried to make time for. Marshall had his own problems, such issues he made efforts to address, all with the help of a German Shepherd who made the time to stay with him. Chase had long tried to deny the facts, but there was a certain way he felt about Marshall.

"So," Zuma grinned, pouring the contents of the shaker into the glass, filling it with a pale yellow liquid, "you two married yet?"

"Don't." Chase almost growled, "I'm not here to have this conversation"

"Sorry sorry," waved off the bartender, "I wasn't teasing you, it's just… well it was pretty obvious,"

Chase turned his head away, trying to hide the blush on his face.

"Come on dude, if you really feel that way, I say go for it," Zuma garnished the glass with a slice of lime, then pushed it to Chase.

"What is this?" the Shepherd dodged the statement, addressing the drink before him.

"It's a Margarita," the Lab said as he wiped down the table, "simple, yet effective."

Chase shrugged to himself and leaned over, dipping his tongue in. Instantly his eyes shot open, his ears standing up as life surged within him. The music of sweet, sour, bitter, and salty danced into a melody down his throat.

"Jesus," the Shepherd drew back, grimacing as his taste buds were waterboarded with the freeing zing of the drink.

"I trust it's good then?" Zuma smiled, amused at his friend's expression, "your food will be out in a minute."

Chase nodded, tapping his paw on the table. Every few seconds or so, he dared himself to dip his tongue back in the glass. He didn't drink often, or at all mostly, and the experience of a drink like this was something new. Something new that first tasted horrid, yet pulled him into desiring more. After a couple of minutes, he had finished half the glass and felt his stress fading away, a grin spreading on his face as his spirits lightened up. His chicken wings were soon brought to the table, steaming hot as they glistened in golden brown breading. The wings were without a doubt a house specialty.

"It's just, Marshall was always there for me," he began, planting his teeth in a wing,

"I seem to recall him getting on your nerves a lot," Zuma raised an eyebrow as he cleaned a mug,

"Oh totally," Chase laughed, "so much bickering over the years, really tied us together,"

"Remember when he jumped through that window?" the Lab struggled to hold back his own laughter, visibly fighting a smile,

"He did that as a joke!" the Shepherd reared back, joyfully recalling the memory, "I don't think he knew it would break. He's heavier than he looks."

The sound of a bell signaled the front door of the restaurant being opened. They both turned their heads to a rather unkempt Husky that entered through the door. Zuma greeted him and left Chase, moving over to take the new customer's order. With his new alone time, a rush of desire for excitement, gloriously donated by his drink, was dancing around in his head. Looking around, there weren't many other attendees in the bar, save for a pair of Dobermans talking in one of the booths. Seeking a burst of fun, Chase put his paw to his neck and felt his collar. He could easily call someone to join him there, bringing a second dog to the party would likely get some conversation going. All he wanted to do was put the tiresome day behind him, and he would go to whatever length to achieve it. Pressing the button on the tag, he automatically called the first dog on his mind, a decision made on instinct.

"Hey Marshall, you read me?" he asked into the tag.

It was a few moments before he got a response.

"Sorry, I'm driving," the Dalmation's voice came through, "what's up?"

"You have time?" Chase smiled, a blush creeping across his face.

"I mean, probably," Marshall shrugged, "I'm off duty at the moment,"

"Cool, wanna meet me at The Dreaming Glass?"

"Zuma's bar?"

"Yeah, come hang out with me in here," Chase grimaced, realizing how desperate that sounded, "I mean, if you want to. I just thought maybe you'd-"

Marshall laughed, amused at his friend's nervousness, "alright alright, I'll be there. I'm passing through the city anyway,"

"Nice, I'll uh, I see you then," coughed the police dog, anxiety building within. Had he just asked Marshall out? Did it sound like that? He just wanted to share a bite with his close friend, and take a moment to enjoy each other when their jobs had usually kept them distant. Dispatch could wait for a while, he needed to keep up with the people he loved. Taking another drink, Chase realized his glass was empty.

"Hey Zuma, top me off eh?" he called playfully,

The Lab turned around from setting up cups, "you want me to make you another?"

"Am I allowed to ask that?" Chase laughed nervously, eating another wing. They were perfectly seasoned, nearly impossible to not devour all at once like a wolf.

"Of course," giggled the Lab, "I assume 'work' is paying for this?"

"Yeah yeah, put it on the card,"

The night continued on as the rain grew heavier, yet a blissful forgetfulness was in the air. It was freeing to relieve your stress and burdens and push them all away for a night with the help of a cold drink. The clock struck eleven at night when Marshall came through the door, shaking off the water that collected in his coat. Chase smelled him before he saw him, purposely not looking at his friend as he entered, feeling it would be weird to turn his head. The Dalmation looked around for a moment, Chase knew he had been spotted, and tried to slow his beating heart as paw steps approached him.

"Hey," Marshall moved his head into Chase's view, "you look like hell,"

"Long day," the police dog rolled his eyes, hiding away his anxiety for the moment.

The Dalmation climbed up on the chair next to him, carrying a warm smile as he waved to Zuma, "I've never actually sat at the bar before, just in the booths,"

"Oh really?" Chase grinned with playfulness, then took a swig of his second glass, "why not order a drink?"

"Alcohol? Are you crazy?" Marshall laughed, then noted the empty glass off to his friend's side, as well as his new one he was gleefully swallowing, "oh God you're actually drinking,"

"Relax, I'm not having any more," the Shepherd waved off, "get the wings, they're great."

The firefighter returned the playful mood, "oh, I was under the impression I could order what I wanted,"

"I'm just making sure you don't accidentally order Vodka or something,"

"Chase, I'm not a puppy anymore, I know what these drinks are,"

"Oh really? Get one then," challenged the police officer,

"You're serious?" Marshall went wide-eyed, "alright fine, watch this, hey Zuma!"

The Lab turned his head,

"I'll take a Mimosa!"

"A Mimosa?" Chase tilted his head, placing a paw on the table, "what's that?"

"I don't know," Marshall admitted with a giggle, "I think it's French,"

"You ordered a drink you don't know?"

"Hey I know what's going in it," the Dalmation countered, "kind of."

Chase rolled his eyes, trying to shoo away the endearing smile that spread on his face, "I guess we'll just find out in a few minutes how adventurous you really are."

"Maybe, I appreciate you looking out for me though," Marshall pawed at a napkin, "you always were the one trying to set me straight."

"Well no offense," Chase knew what was coming, and was trying to hold back his laughter, "you were kind of an idiot when you were a puppy,"

"Oh fuck you," the Dalmation turned, playfully jabbing him, "I was clumsy, okay?"

"Remember when you flooded The Lookout?"

"I was trying to fix a TV!"

"By climbing up pipes?" Chase raised an eyebrow,

"You're still not letting me live that down, huh?"

"Never will."

The two dogs laughed to themselves as they enjoyed each other's company. It was a moment they rarely got, leading Marshall to fear their friendship going stale. He wanted to spend every day with Chase if he could, yet he knew how demanding it was to be a police officer, to see chaos and violence as part of the job. Knowing the high importance of what Chase was, Marshall was willing to let him go if needed, although it pained him to do so. Eventually, his drink arrived, glistening in brilliant gold.

"Enjoy," Zuma said simply, "ring me if you need anything else,"

Marshall looked down into the glass, eyeing the liquid.

"You asked for it," Chase poked him,

"I guess I did," the Dalmation shrugged, grabbing the glass and taking a large gulp,

Chase's smile quickly died, "woah, dude, easy with that,"

"Hey, you're the one thinking I'm a-" he stopped mid-sentence, his spotted face quickly twisted as the drink hit him. The crisp, bubbly taste with the zing of citrus absorbed into him all once, "oh wow that's- …that's alcohol."

"Never thought I'd see you drinking," Chase leaned on his paw, admiring the Dalmation,

"Well, we're not puppies anymore," Marshall admitted, then joyfully laughed "hallelujah to that, am I right?"

"Regardless, I'm not letting you order another one," the police officer returned the happy expression.

"Well, I'm glad this drink is with you then," brightened the Dalmation, "no one else I'd rather spend it with."

Chase went went-eyed, his smile fading as the words washed over him. His heart sped up a pace, surely Marshall was just nice? It was a questionable thought that his presence was truly as endearing as the Dalmation put off. "Really?"

"I mean to be honest," Marshall gave a little sway, "everything's better with you."

"Oh come on, don't fuel my ego now,"

After sipping his drink again, the Dalmation gave Chase an odd look, raising his eyebrow with an almost mischievous grin. A fond memory returned to him, a memory he had been anxious to bring up for years. He figured he may not have this chance again, so it was now or never.

"Hey, speaking of that night, when I flooded the whole place?" Marshall began,

"Yeah?" Chase giggled, "are we bringing up all your mishaps now?"

"Do you remember what you told me in the elevator?"

Chase nearly froze on the spot, quiet shock flashing on his face. For a moment he flashed a deep red, then his face fell almost in shame. Looking away from his friend, he stared down his drink, fond memories returning to him. He didn't want to admit how happy the memory actually made him.

"Marshall," he said simply, "not here."

"If I don't say it here, I may never get to," the Dalmation frowned, slight pouting, "can we just please talk about it?"

"Fine," Chase looked to the side, "just keep your voice down,"

"Why though?" Marshall challenged, "why are you so afraid of this?"

"I'm not, it's just-"

"You're afraid to admit that you liked me?"

Chase jolted in alarm, "Marshall, we were all very tired that night,"

The Dalmation leaned forward, pressing the conversation, "you told me in the elevator that you cared about me, cared about me more than you did others."

"Marshall-"

"You…" the firefighter nearly choked, "you confessed to me," he looked down sadly, "you said it, you liked me more than a friend,"

The Shepherd was unresponsive,

"So why…" Marshall stared at his paws, "why did we never bring it up again?" he looked up at his friend, who was avoiding his eye contact, "why did you just… forget?"

"Why didn't you?" Chase muttered back, ears lowering a little,

"Because I thought I did something wrong," hissed the Dalmation, "the next morning you treated me like none of it ever happened, it was all just… business as usual."

Chase was visibly uncomfortable. Marshall knew him well, they had spent years together at each other's sides. He owed him an explanation, deep down he just wanted to embrace the Dalmation, but he knew he couldn't. Not like this, anyway, things just didn't work like that anymore. However, they were adults now, and it was no time like the present.

"Marshall, we were puppies,"

"And?" the Dalmation flattened his spotted ears, "what is that supposed to mean?"

"It means I was scared!" Chase suddenly snapped, now facing his friend, "I didn't… understand a lot of things," he struggled to explain, "I was young, all I knew was getting cats out of trees, catching chickens, and throwing traffic cones everywhere. I wasn't ready for that kind of thing because…" he hesitated to find the words, "I was just inexperienced. I'm sorry for… leaving you like that."

Marshall nodded slowly, tapping his paw on the table as he looked down, "so… you don't like me?"

"No- wait," the police dog looked up suddenly, then quickly froze in his words. The Dalmation watched him closely, patiently awaiting the answer. Chase knew it was coming, there was no hiding it now, "I… I do, okay? I guess I do… feel that way, about you." he shrugged, stuttering over himself, "it was all just so complicated to me that I, was a little scared of admitting it."

"But," a shy smile spread across Marshall, "that's in the past now… so…?"

"So what?"

"So you wanna…" Marshall wiggled slightly, "do this?"

Chase tilted his head, narrowing his eyes slightly, "do what?"

"This." The Dalmation held a paw out, seemingly asking for Chase to take it, "come on, Chase. We're grown up now, we have each other. Let's stop hiding all this and just… do it."

Red blush flashed across the Shepherd as he realized what he was referring to, "really? You're… now?"

"I like you, Chase," Marshall confessed, "and you clearly like me,"

Eager to simmer down the conversation, Chase laughed nervously, "Marshall, you have a lot of life left, you don't know if you-"

"Oh, you think I don't know?" Marshall grinned mischievously, "I'll yell it,"

Chase jolted in alarm, "don't you dare."

"I will."

"Marshall I swear to God,"

"I'm going to do it!"

Marshall suddenly reared his head back and took a deep breath, "I-"

Chase lunged forward and violently clamped his paw over the Dalmation's spotted muzzle to silence him, nearly knocking over his drink. Zuma heard the commotion, turning and raising an eyebrow.

"Mmf," Marshall mumbled, wiggling in Chase's grip.

"Zuma we're leaving," barked the Shepherd,

The Lab gave a confused expression, "wha-"

"Just put it all on my tab!"

Chase quickly grabbed Marshall, who oddly didn't protest the sudden force. He was dragged outside, leaving the warm den of the bar. It was unappealing to reemerge back into the dark, bitter cold of the outside, their coats quickly growing damp from the falling rain. Despite the freezing temperature, neither dog seemed to acknowledge it. Chase dragged Marshall out into the alleyway, passing over the trashy pathway and stopping in a dark corner.

"Listen you," growled the Shepherd, pushing Marshall against the wall, "you're drunk, and I'm taking you home."

"I'm drunk?" Marshall laughed, as he was pressed against the freezing brick wall, "I had one drink, you're the one with two Margaritas!"

"You're acting insane!"

"You're the one doubting me," shrugged the Dalmation, "but seeing as we're alone now, maybe we can have a proper conversation,"

"I'm not doubting you!" Chase growled, ignoring the biting cold air, "but I certainly don't need you shouting in an open bar!"

Marshall merely smirked, "You love it," he dared to say,

"Maybe," Chase admitted, glancing to the side awkwardly, "but think of public decency, people will think you're crazy,"

"I guess that's why we had to go somewhere private,"

The Sheperd nearly malfunctioned at the words, trying to keep his composure together. He still refused to admit how much he adored Marshall's energy, although a smile was slowly creeping across his face. Gazing into the Dalmation's blue eyes, he tried with every fiber in his body to ignore the feelings. It was true he confessed attraction all those years ago, but they were young then, and lack of understanding of the matter left Chase quickly withdrawing from his emotions. He didn't mean to leave Marshall out, he'd never anything of the sort, but what mattered was that he was here now.

Paws still firmly planted in Marshall's white chest, Chase's breath quivered, "you sure you want to do this?"

"It's been long enough," his partner nodded, "Chase… you make me happy."

Tears nearly formed in the Shepherd's eyes as his paws fell, releasing Marshall from the wall. The bitter cold snapped and bit into them as hard as it could, yet neither dog could even feel it. It was then that Chase realized he couldn't ignore his feelings anymore, all those years come and gone, and never once had his best friend given up on him. He needed Marshall, he needed the one dog that acted as the burning flame that melted the ice whenever it encased him. He needed the dog that glowed brightly when darkness tore Chase down in his insecurities. Years of being together, unaware of their true feelings.

"You make me happy," Chase said in response, echoing his partner's words, as he leaned in forward.

Their lips met, locking together as they embraced one another, a kiss that instantly burned away the frozen winds. Chase's arms automatically formed around the Dalmation, cradling him deeper into the passion. Marshall placed his own paws on Chase's chest in response, if he had thumbs he'd probably be grabbing the Shepherd to pull him even closer.

They broke the kiss a few seconds later, both taking the opportunity to really get lost in one another's eyes.

"You paid for the drinks, right?" Marshall chuckled,

"Put it on a tab," the Shepherd shrugged, then leaned in to peck the Dalmation again.

Marshall visibly brightened from the affection, slightly flustered, "well, think we should get home?"

"Only if you're staying in my kennel tonight," Chase muttered happily, nuzzling his partner's neck.

"Whatever makes you happy," the Dalmation giggled, "take me, officer,"

"What?" Chase pulled his nose away, confused,

Marshall flashed a mischievous look, holding his paws up, "escort me like you do the criminals,"

The police dog merely blinked in response, then laughed, "I think I'll just take you home,"

Keeping close to one another, they left the alleyway and entered Chase's vehicle. The Shepherd was fully confident he'd be able to make the drive, not trusting Marshall's, although adorable, loony demeanor. Their unity was overdue, and no amount of effort Chase made could shoo away his overjoyed expression. They were finally together, after so many years of being apart.

Finally one, and all it took was a cold drink.