"I'm telling you now Pidge, now and never again that she is nothing but bad news!"

Tramp stormed in through the dog's door with more than a little tremble to his step. Behind him, Lady followed, more than a little confused frustration on her face.

"Why Tramp, the poor thing hasn't done anything wrong," she said as reasonably as she could. "You've been in a mood ever since she arrived even though she hasn't given you one good reason to be upset with her."

Stubborn as he was, Tramp simply planted himself on a rug that was not his for the taking, "It's about the semantics Pidge. I don't expect you to understand what I understand about her, but you have to admit it's awful strange that she just happened to be here, precisely where we are because of her long lost daughter."

"Hmm," Lady hummed in thought but after a few moments, found herself still dumbfounded. "Are you implying that she might be here because of you rather than Dizzy?" she wagered.

"W-wha-what are you talking about Pidge?" he stumbled over his words, the short question proving to be enough to draw out the king of the streets who had once been scolded for being dishonest to a dog whom he allegedly loved. "Me and Peg, we were just good friends is all. If I'd had half the brain that I do now back then, I would have had the mind to keep away from her."

His mate only joined him on the rug with an expression that was skeptical to say the least, "It's okay to say that you once had feelings for her Tramp, I understand. I understand exactly what you were and what you are now. My only concern is that you seem to be allowing the past to shape your entire view of her. You changed once. She might have changed as well."

"I don't know about that Pidgeon..."

"We had a talk in the pound the one time we met," Lady thought to add. "I was as you'd expect, scared and confused of the place I'd found myself locked in. But she defended and looked out for me and she shared some of her wisdom and naive as it might have been, I shared some of kine as well. It was really all about-"

"Lady!" Dizzy greeted, nearly tripping over her paws in the processing of crossing the room. "And Tramp! You have no idea how glad I am to see the both of you. Listen, I need a massive favor. I need you two to-"

"Dizzy honey!"

Dizzy bit her tongue as she herself was cut off by a Peg who limped into the room on her bad leg, her peg leg as she had joked.

"Oh we've got guests!" she remarked delightfully. "The lovely Lady and the Tramp that she pulled indoors. How nice of the two of you to stop by. My daughter and I were just in the middle of talking about tone and inflection and all that, but for you two, we'd be happy to take a break."

Lady chanced a look at Dizzy, the younger dog mouthing a very concerning: "Help me," behind Peg's back.

She did not however, indulge her friend, choosing to remain optimistic about the situation, "I'm so happy to see that the two of you are bonding so well together. Why, I would do anything to get the chance to see my own daughters again."

"Thank you dearie," Peg noted with a nod. "I like to think that it's as if we haven't spent a day apart since she's been born." To punctuate her point, Peg shuffled closer to Dizzy.

"It's a good thing that you're here actually Peg old dog," Tramp said, in a tone bright and cheery enough to cause Lady to glance over with skepticism. "We," he said, swinging his head in Lady's direction, "figured that there's important business that needs to be discussed."

Lady raised an eyebrow, "Important business?"

"Why of course Pidge and that business happens to involve me, you and the mother and daughter pair."

"Tramp..."

"Peg we believe that you should leave," he announced shortly and bluntly.

"Tramp!"

Peg looked at him in what might have been stunned silence for a moment and then only laughed in his face, "Oh Tramp," she said in-between chuckles, "I'm not here to see and entertain you-"

"That's not..." Tramp argued, face flushing at the implication.

"I came here for Dizzy first and foremost. If it does you any favor, I do still consider you quite handsome. If the lovely Lady hadn't poached you first, I might have taken you for myself."

Despite Tramp's face being painted with horror at her words, Lady only joined in with Peg's laughter, opening her mouth to reassure who she saw as friend, "Nobody wants you to leave Peg. Tramp is only being dramatic."

"Dizzy wants you to leave!" the gray mutt shouted in frustration before he could stop himself and realizing what he had said, he chose to simply keep going, "She's wanted you gone since the day that you arrived."

"Well now that can't be true now can it?" Peg turned to Dizzy, watching her curiously. "You don't have a problem with your mama being here do you honey?"

Under her gaze, soft as it might have been, Dizzy shrunk. Her words caught in the back of her throat, she could only wilt under the pressure of a question which seemed to exude a deceptive conflict, simple as the answer might have been.

"If you really intend on making such a fuss about it," Lady started, drawing the attention of her mate and giving Dizzy some room to breathe, "then we could always simply put it to a vote and that could decide the matter."

"That doesn't seem like a good idea," Dizzy spoke up at last. "Maybe we could all just-"

"Actually," Peg stopped her after having lifted her gaze to the ceiling as though she were deep in thought, "voting probably is the fairest way to go about this."

Dizzy still seemed conflicted, eyes darting between the steadfast look on Tramp's face, the easy-going body language of Peg and the dumbfounded appearance of Lady.

"We're all in agreement then," Tramp barked. "We'll vote by show of paw or ask. Not that I've ever heard of woman voting in this day and age but-"

An annoyed nudge from Lady coupled with her clearing her throat flustered Tramp enough for him to mumble a sheepish apology.

"Do I get to vote?" Peg asked.

"No," Tramp was quick to say, clearing his own throat before announcing: "I say that she should leave." He turned his attention to his mate, "Lady?"

"You already know how I feel about the matter but if it needs to be said, I say that Peg should be allowed to stay with us."

"Alright," Tramp hummed and then turned to the only other voter in the room, "your turn Dizzy. This one will be the tiebreaker. What say you?"

"I uhm..."

She hesitated for longer than she had intended to and suddenly found that no was closer to the tip of her tongue than any other word. Tramp was seemingly able to tell as a relieved grin quickly overcame his previously intent features.

Perhaps the gray mutt was correct in his assessment of Peg. Ever since she had arrived, he'd done nothing but insist to anyone that would listen of the bad omens she would be bringing with her. Lady had constantly shooed him away if she'd caught him in the middle of the act, but even with her assurance, Dizzy could not say his words had not left any sort of imprint on her. Tramp had known his mother better than she ever did and if any of what he said was true then she could certainly understand his point of view.

Dizzy took one more moment to hesitate, risking a glance at her mother and almost immediately regretting it. Peg had seemingly detected what her answer was to be as well, as while she had not shown any distress up to that point, in all but a blink and as if it was the easiest thing in the world to do her eyes became watery and her ears drooped as a down-trodden sigh escaped her throat.

She turned her attention back to Lady and Tramp and tried to hide the discomfort from her voice, "I've decided that..." she glanced at Peg again. "I want her to stay."

"What!" Tramp practically barked, Lady smiling besides him.

Peg chuckled at his expense, "That's how democracy works. Imagine what it'll look like in a hundred years." Then with a self-satisfied hum, she sauntered her way out of the room to some imaginary tune. "C'mon Dizzy, we still need to go over perfect pitch."

"Coming..." she said weakly, sparing her friends one last, undecipherable look before following after to a seemingly frantic ballad.

"You saw that right?" Tramp said in disbelief. "You saw those salty tears she whipped up. That should be a crime."

"Technically," Lady said, clearing her throat in a halfhearted attempt to barely conceal her amusement, "I didn't see any tears being shed."

He stared at his mate for a long time and then simply snorted and shook his head, "Unbelievable."

"Hey," Toughy lightly kicked the bulldog snoozing below him.

"Huh?" Bull mused, after a tired yawn. He licked the sleep from his lips and glanced upwards to where Toughy lied above him. "You need something mate?"

"Nothing in particular, no."

"So ya just fancied bein' a right ol' arse, did ya?"

"For the most part, yes."

Bull stayed still a moment and then chuckled porously, ""Fair play. I reckon I was probably a bit of an arse to ya yesterday or the day before, or maybe both, eh?" He settled back down into blissful comfort, not a care or a thought in the world as a light wind blew threw the living room's open window, providing reprieve from the warm summer.

"Happy to find the two of you still sleeping the day away," Dorian remarked, newspaper in hand as he chose a spot on the couch. "It would do me good to find company when people are too busy to provide me company. Don't tell Dizzy but she has far too much energy for the thirty three year old that I am and she doesn't much do well around other people either. I'm still not sure how long you intend on staying, but be assured that I am glad to have you here."

At his entrance, they had both spared him a bit of their attention, but gradually looked at him in more of a strange manner the longer that he rambled on to two dogs.

"Don't give me those looks," he protested, ducking behind his paper, "I've nothing, not even music to keep me grounded to life. Art helps on occasion, but alas, I am no artist."

"Whatever that's supposed to mean," Toughy said, turning away from the man with a roll of his eyes before stretching luxuriously and shifting closer to his companion on the ground. "Say Bull, you understand anything about humans more than I do?"

"I get ya, mate. Them lot, they're keepin' all the best grub for themselves, ain't they? Not too keen on sharin' with us lowly pups, I reckon. That's 'bout as much as I know."

"You ever lived with one of them before?"

Bull hummed in thought a moment at the question, "Nah, can't say I 'ave. None ever fancied me, and soon enough, I got old enough not to fancy 'em back. I was always on the other side of the tracks, even before I crossed paths with you and Ma Fitz. What 'bout you?"

"I stayed in a house before I think," he admitted fairly easily. "It must have been for a real short time cause I don't remember too much. There was this little girl though, all bright-eyed and filled with life. I like to think that she liked me. Her ma and pa must have felt different though."

"Sorry about that mate," Bull said, his eyes closed. "Ain't that the golden truth? The way they treat us, it's a wonder we're still kickin' in their world. But hey, silver linin' and all that, eh? If it weren't for them two rubbish parents, we might never 'ave crossed paths, let alone met ol' Ma Fitz."

Toughy regarded him in silence for a moment and then let out a soft chuckle, "Yeah. I suppose you're right." For good measure, he gave the bulldog another light kick, eliciting a mumbled complaint, but otherwise not doing much to disturb the room.

In an hour, hardly much had moved at all. Dorian had kicked off his shoes in favor of reclining on the couch, the light breeze had picked up ever so slightly, pushing the window entirely open, Dizzy came and went looking just as stressed out as she had ever since they had first laid eyes on her. Only when the big grandfather clock in the corner chimed to announce the arrival of a new hour, did anyone see fit to move.

"Oh my word!" Dorian exclaimed, half leaping off of the couch. "The artist will have this subject's hide if I'm late once more!" With no further words, he threw on his shoes, stopped briefly in front of a mirror and then hurried out of the door, leaving the living room to two old pups.

His frantic state had been enough to wake Toughy to the point that he no longer felt like sleep. And if by the way that Bull was himself beginning to sit up with a yawn was any indication, the same effect fell to him as well.

"Getting old," Toughy remarked when each of his joints cracked with a simple, instinctual stretch.

"Not as old as me at least," Bull said, cracking his own joints.

He sighed as the sudden reminder that their youth had long ago left them dawned upon his features. It was strange feeling, he felt, getting old. It never was the quick, unexpected action that he had always imagined it would have been. Rather, it ended up a slow and arduous process that gave way to little things which he could hardly do anymore. It had gotten bad enough that they began to actively avoid the pound, even for fun. Nutsy was only one case, old dogs were put out of their perceived misery as well.

Not that he was miserable. There was something to be said of a life of singing and running and taking a risk on life on a daily basis. Considering that he had Bull by his side, that consensus only seemed stronger whenever he inevitably reached it.

"Say Bull," Toughy asked, somewhat cautious in his tone. "Why do you think the two of us have stepped all of this way with Peg? Not that we're a pair of vagrants, but why is it that you think it's to her we've always been loyal?"

Bull licked at his jowls before answering, seemingly not needing to think much of the question, "You and me, mate, we're loyal to her, ain't we? Why? Dunno, really. But I reckon it's 'cause we're loyal to each other, innit?"

"Yeah," Toughy nodded, feeling an assurance like nothing else, "I like to think that too."

"Stop."

Roman commanded the short beast before it could approach any closer. He looked it up and down and grimaced, a rare display of emotion given who he was.

"You know why you have been called here?"

"To honor the will of your family through the never-ending debt that I owe to my own family."

He nodded and permitted the creature to walk closer, far away enough from his charge that he would be able to react in time, but close enough that Otto would not feel the need to yell in order to get his point across.

"Boss," Roman said, getting the younger dog's attention.

"Hmm?" Otto spun from where he had been resting on shards of broken tiles. "Oh you've brought it! Thank you Roman."

He felt himself nodding again as Otto stepped forth and began to analyze the target of his gaze. He let loose a lowly whistle as he gave the creature an up and down look, "I suppose that it's true what if often said of your kind. Bred to be perfect in every way imaginable, but this. This is just..." he trailed off and whistled again.

Roman tensed involuntarily when Otto got close enough to be within striking distance. He watched closely, alert for any sign of moment from the creature who sat with a docile posture.

"My father always mentioned that it was a good idea to keep your kind close despite our many, many differences," Otto said, slowly circling the beast, as he looked for something particular. "At first, I will admit that I found the idea to be utterly preposterous, to the point I would not even meet with your family, but Roman eventually won me over and when I did meet with those who create your type I was... impressed to say the very least." He paused, grinning as he spotted a front paw with just four claws, "Sleek, silent and endlessly devoted to what is asked. He convinced me not to prune our relationship. Convinced me that his resources would remain and endlessly useful asset. So far, they have been just that." He turned his gaze away from the source of a poisonous tip and smiled gleefully, "You know where to go? What to look for?"

"I always do."

Otto spared a happy glance at his ward, "Roman has likely heard it already, but I'd like to hear it as well. Tell me why you've been called here."

"To honor the will of your family through the never-ending debt that I owe to my own family."

"Excellent..." Otto remarked, a bloodthirsty curl coming to his lips.