Five Challenge - By Lipstickcat
Title: Five Doughnuts Diefenbaker Never Got to Eat.
Author: lipstickcat
Character/Pairing: Dief!fic, with a hint of Fraser/Kowalski (and Dief/Maggie - the husky, not the Mountie!)
Length: Just under 2,800 words
Notes: Thank you kindly to eledhwenlin for the beta job. Originally a prompt given to me by etcetera_cat, this challenge spurred me into action to actually get it finished. Any hey! Just in time for etcetera_cat’s birthday too! ^_^ Note: There is no Turnbull in this fic, ANYWHERE. I think I might be coming down with something….
***
1)
He was running. The solid ground thundered beneath his paws and his heart hammered in his chest. He was born to run, to feel the world rush by in a blur as he continued to power towards his unknown goal. His mismatched pack yipped and barked, falling further behind as he rounded a corner of the alleyway. He delighted in the way his balance of weight shifted, springing ever forwards, his hind leg muscles tightening and releasing with a surge of heat.
It wasn’t the same as running through powdered snow; this was easier, faster, warmer. But it was enough to make him feel alive and free and wild, just for a little while.
As he approached the dumpster behind the bakery, he slowed to a trot. He sniffed the concrete in circles and scent marked the wall as the pack of dogs caught up, still wound up in excitement, not understanding the meaning of running, of release.
He barked gruffly to them, once, and then turned to the overflowing garbage on the floor. It didn’t take long to nose it out: A doughnut, jelly filling oozing out and sticky.
When he turned back, he noticed a newcomer to the pack. She was beautiful, brown eyes watching him carefully. She wasn’t quite like him, but she was more so than the rest of the dogs. Her name was Maggie.
He gave her the doughnut with only the slightest twinge of regret. But there would be other doughnuts, after all.
She could keep pace with him and they ran as a pair, so close and in tune with the terrain and each other that sometimes they touched and he could feel the roll of her muscles against him as they surged forwards as one.
When they paused to wait for the dogs to catch up, he nuzzled against her ear and told her about the snow.
2)
The bullpen was heaving. Humans were such unnecessarily vocal creatures and all the shouting was vibrating dully in his head, the muted sounds in his ears were a muffled rush that he could make no sense of.
Diefenbaker had no choice but to back up hastily as a large scuffed pair of worker’s boots stumbled towards him and nearly stepped on his paws. With his tail tucked firmly between his legs, he slipped beneath Ray’s desk and watched the chaos with his head tilted to the side: This is what happens when a whole species exists on such a loose sense of hierarchy.
More hasty shuffling, this time from behind him. Ray Vecchio’s raised voice cut through the dampened roar and when Diefenbaker glanced over his shoulder, he could see Ben’s booted feet hurrying to join Ray’s polished shoes and the tatty trainers of the small time crook they’d spent the afternoon chasing. Diefenbaker wished he were still outside, running. He should have been less enthusiastic about the whole affair and not pinned his quarry the criminal quite so quickly. He scooted his rear end further under the desk and leaned against the solid panel on one side of the desk.
Suddenly, there was a thud and the desk jumped. Diefenbaker jerked upright with a yelp he hoped no one noticed. Remaining alert, because being caught off guard again would just be embarrassing, he took another look at the three pairs of shoes behind him. The owner of the trainers was close to the desk, and the placing of both Ray and Ben’s feet showed that they were standing closer to the man than was normally acceptable to the human species. There was thumping on the top of the desk and words being shouted that Diefenbaker didn’t need to hear properly to know that they were the colourful sort that Ben would never dream of using.
The criminal was “resisting arrest”, or so Ray was saying. If he thought that Ben had time to pay attention, or that Ray could actually understand him, Diefenbaker would have stuck his head out from under the desk and pointed out that this man had already resisted arrest previously, and had been subsequently brought down, (and a thank you for that might be nice sometime when you aren’t busy, by the way), and so was technically already arrested. Therefore, he couldn’t be resisting arrest while he was still in the middle of being arrested from earlier.
Perhaps.
He’d just made his head hurt, thinking so much about complicated human rules and games. He needed something good to eat…
Another bang against the desk, causing Diefenbaker to splay his ears with the discomfort the noise created in his head. Thunk. Movement above him drew his attention: A white cardboard box was being vibrated off the edge of the desk by the enthusiastic thumping going on next to it.
Thunk. Thunk.
Oh! Diefenbaker stood upright, his tail beginning to wag.
Thunkthunkthunk. THUNK!
The weight inside the box made it overbalance with a seesaw motion so that it flipped over as it toppled. Instantly, Diefenbaker was pouncing forwards, jaws wide in anticipation of snapping up the single, fresh, doughnut that slipped from the packaging in slow motion. Unfortunately, the scuffle occurring on the topside of the desk didn’t just dislodge the doughnut box; an avalanche of case files and takeout menus followed it mere seconds later. A hefty folder smacked Diefenbaker on the muzzle, knocking him off course. But, still on the fly, he corrected himself mid-lurch and ducked his head to snatch the doughnut before it touched the floor. That was when Ben’s light reading material of War and Peace dropped on him.
It's never nice to suddenly find yourself sprawled over the floor, with a book on your head, in front of pretty much every human you know, but when there’s a doughnut in the equation, it simply won’t do. He’ll be giving Ben a stern talking to later about proper care of books and not putting them down in places that could give wolves concussion.
From his slightly dazed position on the floor, Diefenbaker watched as the doughnut landed on its side, right in front of his face, and began to roll away from the desk. Dief’s brow quivered. The sight of his quarry getting away from him was enough to bring him back to his senses, he heaved himself onto his feet with a huff and began to lollop after it.
The doughnut was wily; it weaved amongst the feet crowding the 2-7 as if it was a sentient being, as if it knew its inevitable fate. And it was inevitable. Even if it meant having to eat it with a flatfoot’s shoeprint in, he was going to catch it.
Diefenbaker skidded and dodged around legs and bounded over desks in an attempt to cut the doughnut off before it reached the hallway. He anticipated its next move with the intuition of the hunter he was deep down inside. He was gaining ground. He slipped through Elaine’s legs and under her desk, jaws ready to snatch the doughy ring up any second now.
And then there was a flash of white fangs, and a snapping jaw, which growled at him from around his doughnut. Butch, an Alsatian from the bomb squad division, swore at him and then tipped his head back, gulping down the snack without even tasting it. Sacrilege!
Diefenbaker swore back at the mutt, his hackles raised, teeth bared. Before they could really start, though, his handler was yanking Butch away on his lead. Secretly, Dief was glad, he would have been in trouble for fighting with a police dog, no doubt at the cost of any further doughnuts this week.
3)
Diefenbaker’s body twitched, a wave of muscle spasm rolling under his fur. His front paws paddled at thin air. He made a whiney noise in his throat that made Ray Kowalski pause and laugh as he picked a doughnut out of its selection box. He glanced down at the wolf stretched out beside the coffee table and laughed again as Dief curled the edges of his mouth to show a hint of fang, in time to his left rear leg kicking out.
“What do you think he’s dreaming of, Frase?”
Fraser glanced down to his companion, then back to Ray. “Hunting, I expect.”
Ray nodded in sage agreement and took a bite of his snack.
Dief was in a palace. It looked like it was made from crystals of snow, but on closer exploration, which involved both the tried and tested wolf method of having a good smell, and the tried and tested Ben method of having a good lick, he found that it was in fact built from carefully piled up mounds of powdered sugar. He tried not to think about how the roof stayed up or how it didn’t just get blown away, as he walked through the attractive, white corridors. He also tried not to lick the walls too much.
He was hunting down the Doughnut King; a cruel tyrant who deserved to be eaten by the daring and dashing Masked Wolf, (himself), if ever there was one. Padding down a long corridor, an imposing pair of doors loomed up before him. Carefully, he knocked one door open a crack and crept inside, slinking stealthily around the edge of the room. Moving from shadow to shadow, the Doughnut King wouldn’t have time to escape, it would be over quickly, cleanly, and tastily….
Ray’s hand hovered over the last doughnut in the box. He glanced down at Dief again as the half wolf yelped and snapped at nothing. In his sleep, Dief smacked his jaws and swallowed thin air.
“I think he caught it,” Ray muttered as he tore the doughnut in two and gave Fraser half.
4)
Lunchtime at the 2-7: Ray and Ben were completely engrossed in what they’d told the Lieutenant was paperwork, but what looked, to Dief, more like a game of poker. Either way, they weren’t going out to eat and no amount of barking could convince them otherwise, so Diefenbaker was on the scrounge.
He trotted into the break room hopefully and glanced around at the few detectives sitting at the tables. He quickly homed in on Detective Dewey, who was not only on his own, but who also appeared to have a promising looking cardboard box in front of him.
The best approach, Dief decided, would be to ham it up a little for the detective’s sake. He yipped and bounced across the room, as if he were six months old again, skipping and gambling between the tables excitedly. He had Dewey’s attention, now for the deciding move!
After a few moments of chasing his tail in the name of looking young and playful, he forgot about his goal and became thoroughly absorbed in trying to catch the fluffy grey quarry that was always an inch away from his reaching jaws. Spinning in ever-faster circles, he only remembered why he had started this cub-like behaviour when he saw Dewey, in a blur, lift something pale gold and circular up to take a bite.
Stopping dead wasn’t the best idea. Dief wobbled and tottered on his paws as he approached the detective, but at least he had paused before the doughy ring went in his mouth. Changing tack, Dief sat down at the side of the table and looked up at him with the most wide-eyed intense gaze he could muster. He even whined a little.
Dewey’s expression was less one of pity for the poor, undernourished wolf, and more one of amusement. Dief needed to further work on looking like he was starving, apparently. However, Dewey shrugged one shoulder and tore a chunk from his food. Dief barked, his tail wagging furiously over the floor. Some was better than none!
His nose followed Dewey’s hand closely as it hovered teasingly in front of him. As soon as it opened, he snatched the food from his palm, rising to stand with excitement. Dewey gave him a pet behind his ears as he began to chew.
It soon became clear that the detective’s lunch was actually a salad filled bagel.
5)
The coffee shop was mostly empty; there were just the three of them next to the window, a couple in the corner, and an elderly man chatting with the serving girl over the counter. Diefenbaker sat at Ray's feet and watched the human lean against the table, his chin resting in his hand, gazing out of the window but not seeing anything that passed by. Diefenbaker could understand that, Ray had a lot to think about and the things going on in his mind were probably far more interesting than watching the dull flow of cars rumble past outside.
Ben reached the table and set down the tray he'd been carrying with a jovial "Here we go". He removed a mug of coffee from the tray, dropped some candy in, stirred it and pushed it gently towards Ray. Ray had been frowning heavily at the window, but as he glanced down at the coffee, then up at Ben, his hand dropped away from his chin and he smiled brightly. He hugged the mug in both hands and pulled it closer to him so he could smell it.
"Thanks."
Ben smiled and nodded, then removed the other mug and a plate before returning the tray to the counter.
While he had his back turned, Diefenbaker took the opportunity to hop up and rest his front paws on the table. Not that he didn't trust Ben to remember him, but he had to be sure. Ray jumped slightly at Dief suddenly leaning against the table, but he recovered quickly, and gave him a scritch behind the ears.
"He's not forgotten you." Ray pointed at the plate of donuts in the centre of the table. "One for me, one for him, and one for you. See?"
Satisfied, Diefenbaker pushed himself back down and leaned against Ray's legs so he could continue to pet him.
They'd be leaving this afternoon. They'd only come back to Chicago to organise Ray's affairs; to give his apartment keys to the landlady, finish selling or rehoming furniture, and to pack up the few belongings he was taking with him. Then they were going home to a cabin that they had built together. Ben was the happiest Diefenbaker had seen him for years. Ray was happy, excited and scared, which made for an interesting hormonal cocktail that Diefenbaker was sure even Ben could smell.
But, he’d be ok, they’d all be ok. There was snow to run in and smells to investigate. Ray would find work in the nearby town, Ben would be doing the job he was made for again. They would be happy, Diefenbaker knew it like instinct. Long winter nights and stillness had suited Ray, had calmed him just enough that he didn’t vibrate with pent up energy any more, it focused him sufficiently to see how good Ben was for him, and gave him the confidence to do something about it. Dief approved greatly; he liked living in a well-bonded pack. He thought that perhaps, with time, Ray might even be able to become still enough inside to understand him.
But, there was the very important issue of doughnuts, and the distinct lack of them out in the snow. This would be the last one they’d be able to enjoy for quite some time. It was no wonder that Ray was so pensive, Diefenbaker thought.
When Ben returned to the table, Dief stood alert and wagged his tail shamelessly. Fortunately, Ben understood the seriousness of the situation and didn’t force Dief to whine or beg. He took the doughnut off the plate and gave it to the wolf with a stoic expression, only marring the moment with a short laugh when Diefenbaker snatched it from him far too eagerly.
It was one of those times when he should have listened to his instinct; a voice in his head told Diefenbaker that he shouldn’t look at the window, which of course made him want to look even more.
She had her mother’s eyes; deep brown, beautiful. She’d grown into a stunning young bitch. She was staring right at him, through the window. Diefenbaker glanced up at Ben and Ray, but they were lost in each other, they didn’t notice as Dief slipped out the door to say goodbye to his daughter.
He gave her the donut, licking the sugar from his muzzle as he watched her eat. There would be other doughnuts, at least, he hoped there would be. Then he nuzzled against her ear and told her about the snow.
***END***
Author: lipstickcat
Character/Pairing: Dief!fic, with a hint of Fraser/Kowalski (and Dief/Maggie - the husky, not the Mountie!)
Length: Just under 2,800 words
Notes: Thank you kindly to eledhwenlin for the beta job. Originally a prompt given to me by etcetera_cat, this challenge spurred me into action to actually get it finished. Any hey! Just in time for etcetera_cat’s birthday too! ^_^ Note: There is no Turnbull in this fic, ANYWHERE. I think I might be coming down with something….
***
1)
He was running. The solid ground thundered beneath his paws and his heart hammered in his chest. He was born to run, to feel the world rush by in a blur as he continued to power towards his unknown goal. His mismatched pack yipped and barked, falling further behind as he rounded a corner of the alleyway. He delighted in the way his balance of weight shifted, springing ever forwards, his hind leg muscles tightening and releasing with a surge of heat.
It wasn’t the same as running through powdered snow; this was easier, faster, warmer. But it was enough to make him feel alive and free and wild, just for a little while.
As he approached the dumpster behind the bakery, he slowed to a trot. He sniffed the concrete in circles and scent marked the wall as the pack of dogs caught up, still wound up in excitement, not understanding the meaning of running, of release.
He barked gruffly to them, once, and then turned to the overflowing garbage on the floor. It didn’t take long to nose it out: A doughnut, jelly filling oozing out and sticky.
When he turned back, he noticed a newcomer to the pack. She was beautiful, brown eyes watching him carefully. She wasn’t quite like him, but she was more so than the rest of the dogs. Her name was Maggie.
He gave her the doughnut with only the slightest twinge of regret. But there would be other doughnuts, after all.
She could keep pace with him and they ran as a pair, so close and in tune with the terrain and each other that sometimes they touched and he could feel the roll of her muscles against him as they surged forwards as one.
When they paused to wait for the dogs to catch up, he nuzzled against her ear and told her about the snow.
2)
The bullpen was heaving. Humans were such unnecessarily vocal creatures and all the shouting was vibrating dully in his head, the muted sounds in his ears were a muffled rush that he could make no sense of.
Diefenbaker had no choice but to back up hastily as a large scuffed pair of worker’s boots stumbled towards him and nearly stepped on his paws. With his tail tucked firmly between his legs, he slipped beneath Ray’s desk and watched the chaos with his head tilted to the side: This is what happens when a whole species exists on such a loose sense of hierarchy.
More hasty shuffling, this time from behind him. Ray Vecchio’s raised voice cut through the dampened roar and when Diefenbaker glanced over his shoulder, he could see Ben’s booted feet hurrying to join Ray’s polished shoes and the tatty trainers of the small time crook they’d spent the afternoon chasing. Diefenbaker wished he were still outside, running. He should have been less enthusiastic about the whole affair and not pinned his quarry the criminal quite so quickly. He scooted his rear end further under the desk and leaned against the solid panel on one side of the desk.
Suddenly, there was a thud and the desk jumped. Diefenbaker jerked upright with a yelp he hoped no one noticed. Remaining alert, because being caught off guard again would just be embarrassing, he took another look at the three pairs of shoes behind him. The owner of the trainers was close to the desk, and the placing of both Ray and Ben’s feet showed that they were standing closer to the man than was normally acceptable to the human species. There was thumping on the top of the desk and words being shouted that Diefenbaker didn’t need to hear properly to know that they were the colourful sort that Ben would never dream of using.
The criminal was “resisting arrest”, or so Ray was saying. If he thought that Ben had time to pay attention, or that Ray could actually understand him, Diefenbaker would have stuck his head out from under the desk and pointed out that this man had already resisted arrest previously, and had been subsequently brought down, (and a thank you for that might be nice sometime when you aren’t busy, by the way), and so was technically already arrested. Therefore, he couldn’t be resisting arrest while he was still in the middle of being arrested from earlier.
Perhaps.
He’d just made his head hurt, thinking so much about complicated human rules and games. He needed something good to eat…
Another bang against the desk, causing Diefenbaker to splay his ears with the discomfort the noise created in his head. Thunk. Movement above him drew his attention: A white cardboard box was being vibrated off the edge of the desk by the enthusiastic thumping going on next to it.
Thunk. Thunk.
Oh! Diefenbaker stood upright, his tail beginning to wag.
Thunkthunkthunk. THUNK!
The weight inside the box made it overbalance with a seesaw motion so that it flipped over as it toppled. Instantly, Diefenbaker was pouncing forwards, jaws wide in anticipation of snapping up the single, fresh, doughnut that slipped from the packaging in slow motion. Unfortunately, the scuffle occurring on the topside of the desk didn’t just dislodge the doughnut box; an avalanche of case files and takeout menus followed it mere seconds later. A hefty folder smacked Diefenbaker on the muzzle, knocking him off course. But, still on the fly, he corrected himself mid-lurch and ducked his head to snatch the doughnut before it touched the floor. That was when Ben’s light reading material of War and Peace dropped on him.
It's never nice to suddenly find yourself sprawled over the floor, with a book on your head, in front of pretty much every human you know, but when there’s a doughnut in the equation, it simply won’t do. He’ll be giving Ben a stern talking to later about proper care of books and not putting them down in places that could give wolves concussion.
From his slightly dazed position on the floor, Diefenbaker watched as the doughnut landed on its side, right in front of his face, and began to roll away from the desk. Dief’s brow quivered. The sight of his quarry getting away from him was enough to bring him back to his senses, he heaved himself onto his feet with a huff and began to lollop after it.
The doughnut was wily; it weaved amongst the feet crowding the 2-7 as if it was a sentient being, as if it knew its inevitable fate. And it was inevitable. Even if it meant having to eat it with a flatfoot’s shoeprint in, he was going to catch it.
Diefenbaker skidded and dodged around legs and bounded over desks in an attempt to cut the doughnut off before it reached the hallway. He anticipated its next move with the intuition of the hunter he was deep down inside. He was gaining ground. He slipped through Elaine’s legs and under her desk, jaws ready to snatch the doughy ring up any second now.
And then there was a flash of white fangs, and a snapping jaw, which growled at him from around his doughnut. Butch, an Alsatian from the bomb squad division, swore at him and then tipped his head back, gulping down the snack without even tasting it. Sacrilege!
Diefenbaker swore back at the mutt, his hackles raised, teeth bared. Before they could really start, though, his handler was yanking Butch away on his lead. Secretly, Dief was glad, he would have been in trouble for fighting with a police dog, no doubt at the cost of any further doughnuts this week.
3)
Diefenbaker’s body twitched, a wave of muscle spasm rolling under his fur. His front paws paddled at thin air. He made a whiney noise in his throat that made Ray Kowalski pause and laugh as he picked a doughnut out of its selection box. He glanced down at the wolf stretched out beside the coffee table and laughed again as Dief curled the edges of his mouth to show a hint of fang, in time to his left rear leg kicking out.
“What do you think he’s dreaming of, Frase?”
Fraser glanced down to his companion, then back to Ray. “Hunting, I expect.”
Ray nodded in sage agreement and took a bite of his snack.
Dief was in a palace. It looked like it was made from crystals of snow, but on closer exploration, which involved both the tried and tested wolf method of having a good smell, and the tried and tested Ben method of having a good lick, he found that it was in fact built from carefully piled up mounds of powdered sugar. He tried not to think about how the roof stayed up or how it didn’t just get blown away, as he walked through the attractive, white corridors. He also tried not to lick the walls too much.
He was hunting down the Doughnut King; a cruel tyrant who deserved to be eaten by the daring and dashing Masked Wolf, (himself), if ever there was one. Padding down a long corridor, an imposing pair of doors loomed up before him. Carefully, he knocked one door open a crack and crept inside, slinking stealthily around the edge of the room. Moving from shadow to shadow, the Doughnut King wouldn’t have time to escape, it would be over quickly, cleanly, and tastily….
Ray’s hand hovered over the last doughnut in the box. He glanced down at Dief again as the half wolf yelped and snapped at nothing. In his sleep, Dief smacked his jaws and swallowed thin air.
“I think he caught it,” Ray muttered as he tore the doughnut in two and gave Fraser half.
4)
Lunchtime at the 2-7: Ray and Ben were completely engrossed in what they’d told the Lieutenant was paperwork, but what looked, to Dief, more like a game of poker. Either way, they weren’t going out to eat and no amount of barking could convince them otherwise, so Diefenbaker was on the scrounge.
He trotted into the break room hopefully and glanced around at the few detectives sitting at the tables. He quickly homed in on Detective Dewey, who was not only on his own, but who also appeared to have a promising looking cardboard box in front of him.
The best approach, Dief decided, would be to ham it up a little for the detective’s sake. He yipped and bounced across the room, as if he were six months old again, skipping and gambling between the tables excitedly. He had Dewey’s attention, now for the deciding move!
After a few moments of chasing his tail in the name of looking young and playful, he forgot about his goal and became thoroughly absorbed in trying to catch the fluffy grey quarry that was always an inch away from his reaching jaws. Spinning in ever-faster circles, he only remembered why he had started this cub-like behaviour when he saw Dewey, in a blur, lift something pale gold and circular up to take a bite.
Stopping dead wasn’t the best idea. Dief wobbled and tottered on his paws as he approached the detective, but at least he had paused before the doughy ring went in his mouth. Changing tack, Dief sat down at the side of the table and looked up at him with the most wide-eyed intense gaze he could muster. He even whined a little.
Dewey’s expression was less one of pity for the poor, undernourished wolf, and more one of amusement. Dief needed to further work on looking like he was starving, apparently. However, Dewey shrugged one shoulder and tore a chunk from his food. Dief barked, his tail wagging furiously over the floor. Some was better than none!
His nose followed Dewey’s hand closely as it hovered teasingly in front of him. As soon as it opened, he snatched the food from his palm, rising to stand with excitement. Dewey gave him a pet behind his ears as he began to chew.
It soon became clear that the detective’s lunch was actually a salad filled bagel.
5)
The coffee shop was mostly empty; there were just the three of them next to the window, a couple in the corner, and an elderly man chatting with the serving girl over the counter. Diefenbaker sat at Ray's feet and watched the human lean against the table, his chin resting in his hand, gazing out of the window but not seeing anything that passed by. Diefenbaker could understand that, Ray had a lot to think about and the things going on in his mind were probably far more interesting than watching the dull flow of cars rumble past outside.
Ben reached the table and set down the tray he'd been carrying with a jovial "Here we go". He removed a mug of coffee from the tray, dropped some candy in, stirred it and pushed it gently towards Ray. Ray had been frowning heavily at the window, but as he glanced down at the coffee, then up at Ben, his hand dropped away from his chin and he smiled brightly. He hugged the mug in both hands and pulled it closer to him so he could smell it.
"Thanks."
Ben smiled and nodded, then removed the other mug and a plate before returning the tray to the counter.
While he had his back turned, Diefenbaker took the opportunity to hop up and rest his front paws on the table. Not that he didn't trust Ben to remember him, but he had to be sure. Ray jumped slightly at Dief suddenly leaning against the table, but he recovered quickly, and gave him a scritch behind the ears.
"He's not forgotten you." Ray pointed at the plate of donuts in the centre of the table. "One for me, one for him, and one for you. See?"
Satisfied, Diefenbaker pushed himself back down and leaned against Ray's legs so he could continue to pet him.
They'd be leaving this afternoon. They'd only come back to Chicago to organise Ray's affairs; to give his apartment keys to the landlady, finish selling or rehoming furniture, and to pack up the few belongings he was taking with him. Then they were going home to a cabin that they had built together. Ben was the happiest Diefenbaker had seen him for years. Ray was happy, excited and scared, which made for an interesting hormonal cocktail that Diefenbaker was sure even Ben could smell.
But, he’d be ok, they’d all be ok. There was snow to run in and smells to investigate. Ray would find work in the nearby town, Ben would be doing the job he was made for again. They would be happy, Diefenbaker knew it like instinct. Long winter nights and stillness had suited Ray, had calmed him just enough that he didn’t vibrate with pent up energy any more, it focused him sufficiently to see how good Ben was for him, and gave him the confidence to do something about it. Dief approved greatly; he liked living in a well-bonded pack. He thought that perhaps, with time, Ray might even be able to become still enough inside to understand him.
But, there was the very important issue of doughnuts, and the distinct lack of them out in the snow. This would be the last one they’d be able to enjoy for quite some time. It was no wonder that Ray was so pensive, Diefenbaker thought.
When Ben returned to the table, Dief stood alert and wagged his tail shamelessly. Fortunately, Ben understood the seriousness of the situation and didn’t force Dief to whine or beg. He took the doughnut off the plate and gave it to the wolf with a stoic expression, only marring the moment with a short laugh when Diefenbaker snatched it from him far too eagerly.
It was one of those times when he should have listened to his instinct; a voice in his head told Diefenbaker that he shouldn’t look at the window, which of course made him want to look even more.
She had her mother’s eyes; deep brown, beautiful. She’d grown into a stunning young bitch. She was staring right at him, through the window. Diefenbaker glanced up at Ben and Ray, but they were lost in each other, they didn’t notice as Dief slipped out the door to say goodbye to his daughter.
He gave her the donut, licking the sugar from his muzzle as he watched her eat. There would be other doughnuts, at least, he hoped there would be. Then he nuzzled against her ear and told her about the snow.
***END***