Micro
Summary: Harvey and Donna find that their combined talents are no match for a scruffy little, destructive puppy in need of a home.
AN: Part of my 100 challenge. Pulled from my drafts, no beta, but there is a puppy! Kind of related, I've adopted a pet slug called Slugworth Raffatilion. He lives in the wild, but he really likes supermarket lettuce. Anyway, here's #94 :)
...
"Harvey, don't—"
Donna groans as a fast moving ball of fur circles her feet then runs off, leaving a trail of dirty paw prints.
Sighing, she dumps the grocery bag with dog kibbles, a collar, pet bowl, and a leash on the counter — wincing when the items land with a loud and obnoxious squeak.
Of course. How could she forget the rubber chew chicken?
"He's going to track mud everywhere."
"And this is a brand new suit." Harvey brushes off the filth clinging to the expensive threads with little success.
Even though he and wife pride themselves on keeping a clean apartment, they couldn't just leave the poor animal cowering under a dumpster. The decision to bring him home was unanimous. "It's one night," he reminds her. "I'll call the shelter first thing in the morning."
Her frustration fades as his lips brush her forehead, but the tender moment is ruined by a crash and barking.
"I'm going," he says quickly, following the yapping and growling. The sounds lead him to their bedroom, where a shit storm of chaos has erupted. On the floor is his bedside lamp, lying beneath a rain of fluff being let loose from a pillow the dog is demolishing. "Hey. No!"
"Aroof?"
The biggest, pleading eyes he's ever seen gaze up at him from the middle of the mattress. Well,
with the exception of his wife when she wants something. And, as it turns out, he's a victim of both looks, because he picks up the lamp, which thankfully isn't broken, and he takes the pillow and its contents, stuffing the evidence in the furthest corner of their closet.
"This stays between us."
"Woof!"
The dog's tail wags excitedly, drool spilling onto Donna's favorite bedspread, and he can't help but chuckle. Many wouldn't consider him a pet person, but as kids, he and Marcus begged their parents for a dog. Of course, that plea was forgotten after Lily's infidelity. But there's something about the scruffy creature that ignites his curiosity. Almost how he felt when Mike turned up in his life, all scrawny and rough around the edges.
Grinning, he approaches the dog, scratching the animal behind the ears. "You're a micro-Mike, aren't you? But unless you have a photographic memory, don't get too comfortable."
Micro doesn't listen, licking his hand enthusiastically.
Shrugging out of his jacket, he glances down at his muddied shirt. It's already a lost cause—a casualty of cuteness. So, he rolls up the sleeves, scooping the bundle of fluff into his arms.
A bath won't save the bedspread, the pillow or the carpet. But he's sure Donna will appreciate him trying to save the rest of their apartment.
Otherwise he and Micro might both be looking for a new home tomorrow.
…
The next afternoon, Donna stares incredulously at her husband, speechless as he wrestles with the dog in his arms. The animal he was supposed to leave at the shelter.
"Donna, I tried." He lifts his chin trying to escape Micro's tongue lashing."I got there and the phones were ringing off the hook, no one had any time. I couldn't just dump him."
"Oh my God. This is David Fox over again." She scrubs her face. Not long after Mike left New York, he went to war with Fox over a cleaning lady. And it's not that she doesn't appreciate his compassionate side. It's serving him well in his new position at Mike's firm. Evidently, a little too well. "Harvey, we can't keep him. We both work full-time hours… We don't have time for a dog, much less a puppy."
"I know." He placed Micro down, unhooking the animal's lead. As soon as the animal is free, he bounds to Donna, stopping and sinking down on his paws at her feet.
"Aroo?"
His tail starts wagging and Harvey smirks. The dog may actually be smarter than Mike. But he hears what Donna is saying, and he's not suggesting they adopt the animal. Just that they should take some time finding him the right home. "We have all weekend to post some pictures online. Come on, another two days won't hurt."
She gazes down at Micro, and then up at her husband's pleading gaze. "You don't even know your own Instagram password."
"Sure I do. It's those eight little star things."
He grins, and she rolls her eyes, bending down to scratch Micro behind the ears. "Fine. Go change into your gray cashmere sweater. The one Jessica sent you for Christmas."
"Why?"
"Because gray will offset his color, and any woman within a hundred miles will want to adopt this dog when she sees a picture of you holding him."
She really shouldn't inflate his ego, but when she stands up, he doesn't look smug. Instead, he
takes a step forward, his feet spreading around Micro as he cups her shoulders.
"For the record, there's only one woman within a hundred miles that I care about."
"Woof!"
He kisses her, and she feels a matching wet slobber on her bare feet. Trying her best not to laugh, she pushes him back."Go. I'll put some leftovers in the oven for dinner."
They go their separate ways, Micro trotting behind her as she opens the fridge door.
"Don't get used to this."
Pulling out a tray of leftovers from the night before, she scoops the chicken into a bowl, and sets it down on the floor. The animal wags his tail excitingly as he digs into the food, and she shakes her head as she places the empty container in the dishwasher.
Two more nights won't hurt. But they have to figure something out by Monday, because they can't take the animal into work. And there's no way she's leaving the dog here alone to tear the place apart.
…
"Thanks, Marcey." Donna smiles as she waves goodbye to the twenty-something student who is now their temporary dog sitter.
Like she anticipated, Harvey's picture on Instagram generated plenty of interest, the problem is it gained a little too much attention.
With over a hundred messages to go through, and zero idea how to weed out the people who would rather adopt her husband, she reluctantly agreed to hire someone to take care of Micro.
So, what was supposed to only be two nights, has now turned into almost a week.
"Woof! Woof! Woof!"
She moves into the living room where the white ball of fluff is leaping excitedly around the new pet bed she and Harvey picked up on their way home. She agreed to let the dog stay until the weekend, but only if there are some new ground rules, like no more sleeping on the end of their bed.
"You like that, huh?" Harvey grins, scrubbing the animal behind the ears. "See, I told you he'd go for the maroon."
Donna snorts, doubting the dog cares about the aesthetics. Then it suddenly dawns on her why Harvey was so instant about the color. "Oh my God. You got it to match your Harvard sweatshirt, didn't you?"
He beams proudly. "I got you."
She rolls her eyes with a laugh. "You're an idiot."
"Aroo?"
Micro tilts his head curiously, and Harvey grins. "Don't worry, bud. She didn't mean you."
"Woof!"
The dog bounds out of the bed, circling around her feet, and she kneels down picking up the bouncing ball of fluff. "Do you want to go for a walk?"
"Woof! Woof!"
Harvey picks himself up, brushing Donna's waist as he moves by the pair. "I'll get dinner started." He kisses her temple, giving Micro a pat. "Be a good guard dog, okay?"
"Woof!"
Donna smirks. The puppy doesn't have a vicious bone in its body. But she supposes he might lick someone to death if they get too close. Putting him down, she grabs the lead and her keys, brushing her lips against Harvey's cheek. "Back soon."
"Woof!"
…
After a short walk around the neighborhood, Donna feels a sharp tug on the lead, and she turns around to find Micro flat on his stomach, with his head resting on his paws.
"Come on." She whistles, pulling, but the animal doesn't budge. "Micro, come."
"Aror."
He whimpers, shaking his head.
"What is it?" she asks, glancing around. There's no danger or sign of why he stopped, and she gives the lead another tug.
"Aroo?"
He still refuses to budge, and she kneels down at a complete loss. She knows how to read people, not dogs. "Are you scared of something?"
He starts nudging her hand, his tail wagging slightly, and it dawns on her what's wrong. "You're tired."
"...oof."
The exhausted half bark means she's right, and she smiles, happy to have figured out the problem. "You want me to pick you up, don't you?"
"...oof."
His tail swings a little faster, and she sighs. "Come on, then." She scoops up his dirty paws, wondering if people with pets get a special discount at the dry cleaners as she hugs him against her chest.
By the time she's back home, the animal is snoring softly, and she walks in to find Harvey on the couch, his smile turning into a teasing grin.
"I'm not an expert, but aren't you supposed to walk the dog?"
"He's inherited your stubbornness."
She drops her keys on the counter, feeling the dog stir in her arms.
"...oof! Woof! Woof!"
He jumps down, bounding across to Harvey who chuckles at his muddy and flustered wife. "I think you might have been played."
"Don't you dare laugh." She slips off her heels and saunters over to him. "Not unless you want this mud on your sweater."
He thinks about surrendering, but instead, he reaches out, tugging her waist. She falls in his lap with a squeal, and he grins. "I don't care." He slants his mouth over her smile, kissing her giggle as Micro bounds around them excitedly.
"Woof! Woof!"
"You know." She pulls back, brushing the stubble along his jaw. "If Micro sleeps in his own bed tonight, that means we'll have our privacy back."
"Thank God," he groans. It's not like they've been abstaining from sex, but they both drew the line at doing it in front of the puppy.
"Aroo?"
"I'll explain when you're older." He grins at Micro, squeezing Donna's waist. "We could find a more permanent sitter."
"Harvey." She lowers her voice, not wanting to upset the dog. "We talked about this. We can't keep him."
The fact she's whispering tells him she's started growing attached, too, and he nods, hiding his hopefulness. "You're right. Why don't you check and see if there's any more interest. I'll plate up dinner."
"Okay." She kisses him, climbing off him so he can get up. But rather than retrieve her phone, she sits down, letting Micro jump into her lap.
There's no point rushing anything. She can put up with muddy carpets and clothes for another week. Or as long as it takes to find Micro the perfect family.
…
A week and half later the day finally comes.
They found Micro the perfect home. Somewhere he'll be loved and happy, but as soon as the kind man leaves, and their door closes, Donna cups her mouth muffling a sob.
Harvey pulls his wife into a hug, rubbing her back with his palm. "Hey. It's going to be okay."
She buries her tears in his sweater, the unexpected swell of emotions hitting her hard.
"Jarrod's a good person, and his two daughters are going to give Micro plenty of attention," he whispers soothingly.
"I know," she hiccups, clutching him tightly.
After two weeks she knew saying goodbye was going to be hard, but the door only just closed and the apartment already feels empty. It feels like there's something missing, and a lump nestles in her throat, more tears escaping as she changes her mind. "I want to keep him."
Harvey gently pulls her back, brushing the moisture from cheek. "Donna."
"I know." She can't explain the attachment she feels. She isn't being logical or reasonable. But she's devastated. The kind of emotion that has her thinking about Micro, and not the family he's going to. "I feel awful, but he's our dog."
"I know he is... Which is why Jarrod is waiting in the hallway." Harvey confesses his plan, swallowing his guilt. "He's single, no kids."
Her eyes grow wide and then narrow angrily. "Oh my God. You planned this? What is wrong with you?"
She slaps his arm, and he grins. "I had to do something. That kid from downstairs was making a fortune off us."
"You're an idiot."
Kissing him, she squeezes his waist, happiness bubbling up inside her as she moves to open their door.
Jarrod is standing there like Harvey promised, but it's Micro's wagging tongue she bends down to greet. "Hi, boy. Did you miss me?"
Reaching over his wife's head, Harvey shakes his client's hand and thanks the man who has a soft spot for animals. Then when the man leaves, he shuts the door, and bends down, grinning as Micro licks his face.
He never saw himself getting married or having children, and a dog was never a part of his life plan, but families come in all shapes and sizes.
Where there's love, there's a home.
And Micro has found his place in the world, he's exactly where he's supposed to be.