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Chase's voice rang throughout The Lookout as he held up the gold-labeled champagne bottle, "ladies and gentlemen, our thousandth completed mission!"

With the flick of his paw, he popped the cork, sending it on a collision course into the far wall as sizzling liquid spilled out. Cheers rang out from the dogs that had gathered around him, all celebrating the truly momentous occasion. The interior of The Lookout was decorated in party streamers, treat dispensers, bowls of punch, a mountain of pizza boxes, and stacks of party hats waiting to be claimed, it was a party like none other. The Paw Patrol had officially completed one thousand missions, and they were all here to celebrate alongside their friends.

"Chase, is that real champagne?" Ryder crossed his arms with an unamused look.

"Uh, no," the Shepherd laughed nervously, lowering the bottle, "I just filled an old bottle with Sparkling Water,"

Everest laughed from the crowd, "the last thing we need right now is to get drunk," there was a slight moment of laughter. "And we're dogs," Rocky added, "I don't think our bodies are meant to consume that."

Chase tried to keep the entertainment up, "hey, nothing wrong with being adventurous, you know?" he laughed nervously, although no one laughed with him, his comedic premise now gone.

"I can name at least several things," Rex spoke up, "I'm pretty sure being adventurous kills people most of the time, hell, I work with dinosaurs."

Rubble looked over at the Bernese dog, "I still greatly question your career choices,"

"Well, as long as we're all here," Ryder clapped his hands together, "enjoy the festivities, everyone, we all deserve it. Every single one of you are invaluable pieces to our operations,"

His words were met with faint giggling, as Katie moved to his side, "yes, that's why you invited Sweetie,"

Ryder quickly leaned in, lowering his voice, "I didn't want to leave her out,"

"Despite all the trouble she causes?"

"I can hear you, you know!" barked a small white terrier at their feet, "I'm just gonna get my pizza and leave!"

As the crowd bickered and laughed with each other, a straggler sat a few feet away, idly watching the group. A brown Labrador munched away on a treat, tapping his paw on the floor. Zuma didn't understand why he felt so anxious, perhaps all the loud noise in the room was getting to his head, scratching away at his brain like a fork on a plate. He wasn't always so reactive to high volumes, given his frequent interactions with churning waves while surfing, but something about voices constantly barking and overlapping one another was making him uneasy.

"Hey, Zuma," the Lab looked over to see Chase approaching him, "enjoying the party?"

The dog shrugged, grimacing slightly, "I guess. Kinda wish we had beef treats instead of chicken, those taste a little better." As the months went on, Zuma learned to hone his speech impediment, finally banishing it as he got older.

Chase raised an eyebrow, "what? Zuma, those are pork-flavored."

"... well then they all taste the same,"

"Hey, if you don't like the treats," Chase moved a little closer, making Zuma lean back a little, "I actually do have real champagne in my kennel, wanna try it?" he gave a mischievous smile.

"I'm not getting drunk with you, dude,"

"Fine, fine," the Shepherd turned away with a disappointed expression, "I don't wanna do it alone, I'll go see if Marshall is willing."

Zuma blinked, still slowly processing that his close friend for as long as he could remember had just offered to get drunk with him. The Lab shook his head, almost disgusted at how the party dynamic was affecting his friends. Chase would normally stray away from alcohol, but for the sake of an idiotic party, he was willing to go into the deep end.

His thoughts were interrupted as Chase suddenly returned, zipping at his side so quickly he startled the Labrador, "oh hey, don't tell Ryder I have it."

"Wasn't… planning on it," Zuma sighed, exasperated,

"Awesome, thanks Zuma," the Shepherd sharply turned away, slapping the Lab's cheek with his tail. The coast guard grimaced, shaking his head at his friend's dangerous demeanor. Shaking his head, he suddenly longed to go outside for fresh air.

Across the room, Rocky was struggling to mingle with the guests. Hours before, he hyped himself up in his mirror, building the self-esteem to talk to others besides his direct friends. He struck up a nervous conversation with Tracker when he first arrived, but his antisocial tendencies were fighting tooth and nail to keep the talk going. When everyone else started piling in, Rocky found himself almost unable to move, glancing around the area for someone easy to talk to. He would've preferred not to come to the party at all, as large crowds made him exceedingly anxious, but he didn't want to look like a loser in front of the others.

He found himself stuck in a three-way conversation with Rex telling a story related to one of his feats. Rocky wanted to be polite and listen through it, but he was growing more and more uncomfortable by the second.

"... so then I finally drop in the cave," Rex continued, "and what do you know? There are the missing eggs! I couldn't believe they had been there the whole time,"

"Oh wow," Rocky chuckled, sweating under his fur, "that's… incredible,"

"How does one speak dinosaur anyway?" Liberty asked, raising an eyebrow, "that's not an ability, that's like… a whole power."

Rocky shot his gaze over to the Dachshund, wanting to slap her for prolonging the conversation and delaying his escape.

"Well, it's not so much a language the way you and I understand it," Rex explained, "it's more of an understanding of how they feel,"

"That still doesn't answer my question…"

"Well-"

"Wow, Rex," Rocky suddenly said a little too loudly, "you uh… truly are the dog… we… know you… are," he glanced around in slight panic, "but I just remembered, I have to uh… take a bath so…"

"I thought you hated water?" Liberty looked over at him in confusion,

"Nope, love it, bye!" the mix forced out his last four words, turning tail and speed-walking away to the snack tables. Finally touching down before a treat dispenser, he breathed out a large sigh of relief. His ears lowered in slight regret, fearing how rude he sounded at the moment, but he truly couldn't last another moment in the crowd. He needed to get somewhere quiet before he began hyperventilating.

Zuma was about to head to the elevator when he spotted Rocky, "hey, you okay?"

The mix looked up with a forced smile, then quickly let it go when he realized it was just Zuma, "not really, no," he confessed, "I'd really like to get out of here,"

"The party too much for you?"

"I mean, yeah?" the mix tilted his head, "but I don't want to be rude,"

"No one's gonna think that, Rocky, if you want to leave, you can go," Zuma shrugged,

The mix lowered his head, thinking over the decision before him, "but I want to be part of things, and-"

He was cut off as the piercing screech of a popped balloon hit his ears, followed by an uproar of cheering, making him jump an entire foot off the ground. Zuma was caught off guard as well, and he snapped his head toward the sound. The rest of the dogs were playing blind darts, putting blindfolds on and throwing darts into balloons. Even Sweetie was getting into it, evident by her joyful hopping as she took her turn.

"Just not these things," Rocky finished, taking a step back,

"Yeah, I get it," the Lab stared at the game with a concerned look, "someone could get hurt doing that,"

"I should get outside before Marshall stabs someone with a dart by accident," the mix turned and started walking to the elevator,

Zuma laughed at the statement, "why Marshall?"

"If anyone's gonna do it, it's him,"

The Lab took another look at the partygoers and decided that he too didn't truly want to be a part of the festivities. Things were just getting a tad too extreme for him, and he didn't feel like losing an eye to a blindly thrown dart.

"You know what?" he called to Rocky, "why don't we have our own party outside?"

The mix turned back at his friend, tilting his grey head, "how?"

"Simple. I'll grab a pizza box, and we can meet outside," Zuma gestured to the tables where the food stood.

"But Ryder said we could only have one slice each,"

"Rocky, Ryder isn't looking," Zuma pointed out.

The two dogs turned their gazes to their leader, who was completely distracted in his conversation with Katie. They couldn't hear what they were saying, but given Ryder's joyful, almost affectionate expression, it was surely an eventful moment between them.

"Oh," Rocky realized,

"You get to the elevator, I'll get the food," Zuma nodded, giving Rocky a gentle push on his way.

The mix nodded and entered through the elevator doors, not yet pressing the button to keep them open. If Zuma was to perform a successful food heist, he'd need an available way out. He tried not to show it, but he was gushing inside that someone actually cared to go with him. Despite disliking crowds and parties, he still longed for the company of another.

Zuma approached the small table where pizza boxes had been placed. It was low enough that a dog could reach up and pull one down, yet high enough that a human didn't need to strain themselves just to open the box. Marshall and Everest were happily talking by the table, an open pizza box next to them. They had likely already taken their slices, as Everest was chewing on a piece of crust.

"Hey, so what kinds are these?" Zuma approached them,

The Dalmation turned, pointing at the stack, "the one on top is pepperoni, and below that is plain cheese. Ryder said we could only have one-"

"Cool, thanks," Zuma reached up and grabbed the entire box in his teeth, pulling it off the table. The endearing smell of cooked cheese and pepperoni filled his nose, a dream of any animal to sink their teeth into. Without a word, he turned and walked off with it, leaving Marshall and Everest with dumbfounded expressions.

He quickly walked into the elevator where Rocky was waiting, "you grabbed the entire box?!" he exclaimed,

"Yeah," the Lab let the box down, "now shut the door before anyone sees,"

Rocky made haste, slamming his paw over the button, and the doors slammed closed as they began their descent. The noise of the party was quickly drowned out as they left the area, bringing upon them a welcoming silence that soothed their very souls.

"I can not believe you just took that," the mix laughed, looking down at the cardboard container that held the most delicious food known to all life.

"Well, I'm hungry," Zuma shrugged, "I assume you are too."

The door opened before them, revealing the calm, welcoming solace of the night. The clearing of The Lookout was blanketed in gentle darkness, with crickets in the grass chirping out their song. Fireflies danced in the air, forming glowing particles that seemed to shine brightly in a time known only for its absence of light.

"It's a nice night," Zuma breathed in the fresh air, "where do you want to go?"

Rocky looked around, taking another step outside, "anywhere but here, please," he sighed, "I just want to get away from all the noise for a little bit,"

"Indeed, it's getting crazy in there," the Lab shook his head, "Chase offered me a meeting in his kennel, he had champagne and wanted to share it."

"Really?" the mix's ears shot in alarm as he went wide-eyed, "we should tell Ryder,"

"Or," Zuma flashed a grin, putting his arm around his friend, "we could not tell Ryder, and watch whatever mayhem ensues afterward."

"You'd rather watch the fireworks than try to stop them?" Rocky raised an eyebrow,

"I'm just curious on who Chase'll manage to drag into it,"

"You're terrible," the mix shook his head, although he couldn't hide the smile plastered on his face.

"Indeed, now why don't we go into the field over there?" Zuma pointed, "we'll be far enough from any flying debris that crashes through the windows," he laughed as he picked up the pizza box and started to walk off.

Rocky followed behind, "you really think the party is gonna get that explosive?"

"With how much time Ryder keeps spending with Katie and not chaperoning, something is bound to get out of paw."

The two dogs walked out into the field, their paws leaving the pavement and taking on grass, cooled by the gentle night. The silence was more than welcoming, it was freed from the chaos, almost luring them into a state of drowsiness that threatened to pull them into sleep. Zuma selected a cool spot below the sky, and he dropped the box to signal the now claimed territory, "here."

Rocky turned around in place a few times, then let himself fall onto his side, "so what kind of pizza did you get?"

With a triumphant smile, Zuma kicked open the box's lid, revealing the entire cooked pizza, piping hot and ready to be dug into. The sliced pepperonis that dotted its surface were just the icing on the cake.

"Oh lord," Rocky could feel himself drooling, "that's a whole pizza,"

"Astute observation," Zuma rolled his eyes and bent down to pull off a slice. Rocky mirrored him quickly after, grabbing his piece from the whole. Sinking their teeth into the meal, it was a wonder of heartwarming flavors and sensations. Once someone had a bite of such things, they'd never want to eat anything ever again.

"So…" Zuma looked at his friend after a moment, "I take it you don't like parties?"

The mix looked up at the sky, the stars glittered in the sky like diamonds, shining down like beautiful pieces of art, "I guess I just don't."

"That's alright," the Lab said reassuringly, "I don't like them either,"

"I thought you were a thrill seeker?"

"My own thrills, I don't like sharing it with six dogs at once,"

"How selfish," Rocky giggled,

"Sue me," Zuma shrugged, "I guess I can be a little selfish after all. We all have faults don't we?"

The mix grimaced, wanting to fight the answer, but submitted as he nodded, "yeah, I guess." He looked to the ground in remorse, a grip of sadness trudging up his heart, "for me, you can write cowardice."

"You're not a coward, Rocky," Zuma said flatly, annoyed at his friend's loathing.

"I am though," the mix turned back, "I just…" he shook his head for a moment, "no, never mind." He turned his head away, looking down as Zuma watched him in concern. A twinge of sadness fell over them both, as Zuma also looked away, not wanting to force his gaze onto the dog he truly cared about. Trying to change the subject, Zuma let loose thoughts of his own.

The Lab shuffled his paws in the grass, taking another bite of his food. The flavors were seemingly going dull on him, "what do you think will happen to us?"

"What do you mean?"

"With how many new members we're getting, Liberty, Rex, Tracker and all," Zuma explained, "the Paw Patrol is expanding."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Rocky tilted his head,

"In a broad sense, I guess," Zuma laid down, resting his head on his paws, "but what about us? Are we just gonna be one among hundreds of dogs?" he stopped for a moment, looking toward Rocky as if he expected him to answer, "we're a team of six, that what makes us special. If there's suddenly a hundred of us running around all operating under some company, are we still special?"

Rocky frowned as his friend's words were absorbed into him.

"Like, Marshall," Zuma continued, "he's a firefighter, he takes clear passion in his work and it gives him the spark that makes up who he is, he's unique in that way. But what happens if there are dozens of firefighter dogs? What happens to Chase if more and more police dogs join the division?"

Rocky was taken aback, his ears flattening as he realized what Zuma was getting at. It was true that the Paw Patrol was expanding, friends were turning into recruits, and locations were being discovered for setting up camp. It was almost shocking to realize that with all the dogs they had met on their adventures, there were significantly more than just six of them now.

"I don't mean this in a selfish way," the Lab shrugged, "but I kind of preferred it when it was just us," he cringed, realizing how horrid that sounded considering Everest and Rex being friends of his, "it was just… easier."

"Everything's easy when you're a puppy," Rocky shrugged, biting a piece of his pizza, "life is just… treats, dig holes, pee on a few bushes," he chuckled at his joke, "but then we grew a little more, and then responsibilities set in,"

"I don't want to grow up, Rocky!" Zuma snapped, stomping his paw on the ground, "I don't want to be an adult! People just keep expecting more out of you, expect you to do things you don't even know you can do,"

"But that's part of it, isn't it?" the mix held his paw out, "you're an adult, you have to be responsible."

"I know I know, I just…" the Lab gave a sad sigh, "I wish I could be a puppy forever,"

Rocky felt remorseful, he hated seeing his close friend in such a state. Looking down at his piece of pizza, he suddenly didn't feel so hungry anymore. To be enjoyed, it had to be shared, and Zuma wasn't touching his own meal anymore. Almost instinctively, Rocky crept over, seemingly moving on autopilot. He reached his grey arm out and reached around Zuma, gently pulling him into an affectionate hug.

"Me too," the mix whispered, "life sucks,"

"The worst part is, I'm selfish for thinking that way," Zuma muttered, letting himself be pulled in with little resistance, "I can't help it though,"

"It's okay," Rocky nuzzled against him, "it's a valid thought."

The Lab shrugged for a moment, "I guess it's not fun staying a puppy when everyone else grows up without you,"

"I'd stay with you," the mix smiled,

"With me? Are you crazy?" he laughed, "I'd drive you insane,"

"You drive me insane all the time,"

"Heh, I guess that makes you one of the better ones," Zuma nudged his friend affectionately, then frowned as he slowly lowered his head, "no one ever really lets me talk about this kind of thing," he trailed a paw along the ground, stopping when it hit Rocky's light grey foot, "what kinds of things do you think about?"

Now it was Rocky's turn to be bashful, taken off guard by the shifted focus, "oh, um…" he quickly took a bite of his pizza as an excuse to not talk.

"Hey, it's okay if you don't want to talk," Zuma set his paw upon Rocky's, "you don't have to, I'm not forcing you to spew anything."

Rocky felt his body recoil from the touch, yet it sent a wave of comfort than eased his tense muscles. Were they holding hands right now? Dogs didn't have hands the way humans did, and didn't have the joints to bend their "fingers." Placing one paw atop another, did that classify as hand holding? He finished chewing his food, knowing if anything he did tonight was rude, it was surely leaving Zuma out to dry.

"You alright?" Zuma tilted his head, looking into Rocky's eyes.

"Fine," came the simple response, "I just wish I wasn't so afraid of the dumbest things."

"You have phobias, Rocky, everyone does."

"It's not even that," the mix began, "I just… wish I wasn't… this. I'm just a garbage collector, dispatched to pick up trash some idiot threw over his shoulder,"

"That's not true," Zuma gently protested, "you're our handyman."

"Oh fantastic, I can fix things with tiny toy tools meant for toddlers," the mix snarked, "meanwhile you have people going on to be full architects and engineers, I'm just a dog with a twelve-year lifespan."

The lifespan comment stung into Zuma. Dogs barely lived even a fourth as long as a human, it was an awful truth many had to endure.

"I'm nothing, Zuma," Rocky confessed, "I've hated myself every day I've been alive. I'll die in roughly eight years, Ryder will have built an entire Paw Patrol legion by then, and we'll be nothing but faded memories," he looked up at the Lab, "you're right, you know. If Ryder can do all of that in a few months, are we really worth anything at all?"

The two dogs stared at each other. Zuma carried an expression mixed with shock and dread, and Rocky was intently staring him down, waiting for his answer. It was a solid minute before Zuma finally spoke up again.

"You're worth a lot to me,"

Rocky's almost hostile behavior quickly dimmed, "... you really mean that?"

"If it's true," Zuma concluded, narrowing his eyes while looking to the ground, "if it's true that we're just… animals, then maybe it's not the Paw Patrol that's been keeping me going."

Rocky tilted his head in confusion, as Zuma looked up at him for his newest confession.

"It's you."

"Zuma-" the mix began to say,

"So what do you say?" the Lab cut him off, holding out his paw, seemingly for his partner to take, "spend the rest of our lives, what's left of them anyway, with one another?"

"It sounds like you're asking to marry me," Rocky tried to sound weirded out, but he was betrayed by the large smile beginning to creep on his face,

"Eh, I could be," Zuma shrugged, "you'd have to wear the dress."

"Oh hell no," the mix stood up laughing, "if anyone's wearing a full wedding gown, it's you!"

Zuma stood up from the ground, matching the mix's energy, "in your dreams, mutt! The color wouldn't match my fur, anyway."

"You're calling me a mutt now?" Rocky pretended to look offended, "I'll make you eat those words!"

The mix jumped, springing off the ground as if it was a launchpad. He collided with the Labrador, fully tackling him to the ground. Rocky had the advantage, pressing his paws into Zuma's chest and attempting to pin him, but his opponent was quick. Zuma slipped from the mix's grip, rolling from under him and gaining ground a few feet away. Quicking launching a counterattack, Zuma snarled playfully as he grabbed into Rocky's side, pushing him into the grass. The mix swung his head around, catching Zuma's ear in his teeth in an attempt to pull him off balance. His attack was futile, and the Lab fully pinned down the mix, the battle coming to close under the starry night.

"Heh, no fair," Rocky breathed heavily, "you always win,"

"I tangle with Chase a lot," Zuma giggled, "once you learn to fight him off, you can pretty much take on anyone,"

"Oh really?" The mix smirked, "so I can just sic you on any Pitbull or Doberman I see in an alley? Unleash you like a caged animal?"

"You know what I mean,"

"Don't think I do," Rocky gazed up into Zuma's eyes, "I think you need to prove your strength again,"

"You like being pinned or something?"

"If it's you,"

The comment radiated around Zuma, seemingly drawing him in closer. As the crickets chirped and the fireflies danced, the shining moonlight cast a spotlight onto them. It was then Zuma realized just how pretty Rocky's eyes were, how rugged the mix was in his disheveled appearance.

"I'll pin you whenever I want," Zuma growled playfully, leaning down,

Rocky chuckled, "sounds good," then leaned up to kiss him, gently pressing their muzzles together in an embrace. In an instant, all their worries and distress melted away. Perhaps it was simply in the wild spirits of the party that was still raving on the tower, or there was something between them that deserved exploring. After a few seconds, they pulled apart.

"You know, no one noticed we've left yet," the mix gently swayed under the Labrador, "we could always stay here just a tad longer,"

Zuma leaned down to lick Rocky's nose, "I was hoping you'd say that." Now with the whole field to themselves, they embraced each other again, and Zuma lowered himself onto Rocky's stomach.

.-=-.

It was past midnight when Zuma and Rocky decided to return to The Lookout grounds. They could still faintly hear music coming from the tower.

"God, it's still going on?" Zuma exclaimed,

"We left the whole pizza out there," Rocky looked back from where they came,

"Eh, let a possum get it or something,"

"I think I'm just going to bed," Rocky yawned,

The Lab was going to agree with him, when he suddenly got an idea, "wait, hold on a second," he grinned to himself, as Rocky watched him in confusion and mild interest.

Zuma approached Chase's kennel, the door was closed, the universal symbol of privacy. However, the coast guard knew to end the night with one last bang, "let's see who he roped into drinking with him," Zuma giggled, reaching forward to the door's lower handle.

"Oh no," Rocky backed up, "dude no," yet he too simply had to know.

In one swift motion, Zuma gripped the handle in his teeth and threw the door open. Rocky gawked in surprise while Zuma went speechless, as they both fully took in the marvelous view before them.

Chase was lying on his side, completely wasted. His face was locked in the expression of constant giggling like he had just rammed his funny bone against a freight train. Sitting in front of him was a second dog, a dog who had its nose against Chase's fur, and they seemed really into it.

"Sweetie?!" Zuma reared, dumbfounded,

"Huh?" the terrier whipped around, her face was drenched in champagne. She too was completely trashed, "what did you just see?!"

"I-" Zuma tried to say,

"You didn't see anything!" Sweetie jumped up on Chase and stood on top of him, barking like she witnessed a passing mailman, "you saw nothing! Nothing!" She sprang forward in one graceful leap, perfectly grabbing the handle of the door in her teeth and using her body weight to yank the door back down.

Rocky blinked at what he had just seen, then sighed, "okay I'm going to bed before any more dumb shit happens,"

The Lab shook his head before turning back to his partner, "you know, they say you sleep better if you're with someone else,"

"You want to sleep alongside me, don't you?" Rocky laughed as Zuma turned red, "of course you do,"

"Just come on," the Lab padded off, slightly annoyed that Rocky could see through him.

The mix merely laughed, his own light brightening within him. Perhaps he was worth something after all. He slowly followed Zuma back to his kennel, ready to end the night snuggled up together.

The night had started off unpleasant, with constant noise and sensory overloads filling your brain with static. Only by taking a moment out, could they take some time to themselves, having a moment to just talk and get feelings out. Even though it was true dogs didn't live very long, Rocky and Zuma would spend every single day they had on Earth with one another.