Title: Lucy
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Charlie/Matt
Word Count: 1,244
Warnings: Life/Standoff crossover, part of the Matt and Charlie Meet in a Bar 'verse but can stand alone
Summary: For the kink meme at
cranky_zen but it also fits the
chem15try prompt law of conservation of energy - Charlie brings home another stray. But this time it's not a person.
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Matt drops his car keys on the island in the kitchen, wondering where the hell Charlie is as his car is in the driveway, when he freezes.
"Charlie!?" He yells, trying not to sound panicked because he heard somewhere that animals can sense fear. "There's a coyote in the house." Matt thinks he picked a bad day to leave his gun locked up at the office. It doesn't seem like it wants to attack Matt, though. It's just kind of...sitting in the middle of what would be the living room if it had more furniture. Matt wonders if it isn't lunging for him because it ate already; there's an uneasy feeling in his stomach as he wonders again where Charlie is.
The screen door slides open, Charlie not entering the house but standing outside dripping wet with a towel draped over his shoulders. Matt wonders how long he's been swimming for since he's starting to look like his freckles are trying to take over his body, but he starts as the coyote starts enthusiastically running for Charlie.
"It's a dog, Matt," Charlie says in his isn't it obvious? tone of voice, and Matt almost expects Charlie to continue about how it's a dog except for when it isn't a dog, but he doesn't start diving into metaphors.
"Well where did it come from and when's it going back?" The second part of his question is answered when Matt sees how Charlie's fondly petting the dog. He knows that it isn't. Charlie loves picking up strays, only this is the first time that it hasn't been a person.
"She was sitting next to my car when I left the station. Didn't have a collar so I brought her to a vet since people get those PIT tag things these days, but she didn't have one. Vet said she she's a mutt, part husky and part some sort of shepherd."
Matt isn't big on dogs. Too many busts with attack dogs during his time with LAPD. He doesn't trust seemingly well-behaved dogs because of it, knowing how quickly they can become snarling beasts out for blood. Even if this one's licking Charlie's hands and wagging her tail so eagerly that there's a steady thumpthumpthump against the floor. "What's wrong with its eyes?"
"The vet called it heterochromia. Don't you want to come meet her, Matt? She's really sweet."
Matt really rather wouldn't. "What if its owners are looking for it?"
"Ted made some 'found' signs for the station and the vet and pet food stores nearby. If someone's looking for her, they'll know she's here, but with the economy the way it is, a lot of people are ditching their pets since they can't afford to feed themselves and their dogs." Charlie pats the dogs side, and it goes running out into the backyard, sniffing around the pool before chasing after a squirrel or something. "Do you want me to get rid of her?" Charlie asks, and from the look on his face, like it would rip the Earth off its axis if Matt doesn't like the dog, has Matt shaking his head, gesturing no, he doesn't when he really, really does.
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Matt wakes up in the middle of the night to see the dog sprawled out at his and Charlie's feet.
He grabs a blanket and goes downstairs.
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Rachel, who had been staying at a friends' house all weekend, acts like the dog is the best thing in the world. She sneaks it food (the dog really seems to like Charlie's oranges) and takes her for long walks in the afternoon. The dog starts sleeping in Rachel's room, which brings Matt back to Charlie's, and he knows Charlie knows why, but he's yet to say anything about it.
"She's been here for almost two weeks," Rachel announces one morning over breakfast. "No one's going to claim her; we need to give her a name."
"I've been calling her Lucy," Ted chips in, and the smile forming on Charlie's face and Rachel's delighted clapping, Matt knows the dog has now been named Lucy, and he should give up all hope of getting rid of her.
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Matt's cell phone going off at ass o'clock in the morning nearly gives him a heart attack, and he wonders if Charlie is really so bored on his stakeout that he's willing to piss off Dani to call him.
"This is really not my preferred method of yours for waking me up," he grumbles into the phone, voice rough from sleep. Matt squints at the alarm clock and groans when he sees that he has to be up in four hours.
A voice other than Charlie's responding has him instantly awake, like someone dumped ice water on his head. "Matt..." Dani says, hesitating. "Charlie got shot."
Matt's climbing out of bed and pulling together the first available pieces of clothing he sees, not sure if they're his or Charlie's or clean or if they even fucking match, but he doesn't care. "Which hospital?" he demands.
"He got shot in the foot, Matt, he'll be fine. Don't bother coming." Her they won't let you see him, anyway doesn't need to be said for Matt to understand it. They won't allow visitors that aren't family outside of visiting hours.
He clenches his teeth together, taking some deep breaths before Matt takes his anger out on Dani when it's really against the entire goddamn state. Charlie would be so impressed with Matt using his Zen techniques right now, trying to calm himself down. "Go home, Dani. I'm listed as his emergency contact; they'll call me when he's out of surgery and let me know when I can come see him."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, you go file your reports to make sure that son of a bitch doesn't get away with it."
Dani hangs up without another word, which Matt appreciates. He can't stand platitudes, even though he knows from her they would actually mean something.
Knowing there's no way he's going to be able to fall back asleep, Matt goes downstairs and outside, sitting at the edge of the pool in his boxers with his feet in the water, too numb from the phone call to realize that he should have grabbed a sweatshirt and that he'd left the screen door open. He realizes the latter when a cold, wet nose brushes against his shoulder, the dog lying down beside him with her head in his lap.
Matt reaches out hesitantly, petting the dog's head, and Matt swears its like she can sense how worried he is, and she seems that way, too, as they have their vigil by the pool, waiting for Matt's cell phone to ring as the sun slowly rises.
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Charlie's stuck on crutches as his foot heals, and he's normally the one who walks Lucy in the morning, the dog running alongside as they'd jog together.
Matt comes downstairs in shorts and a T-shirt to find Charlie on the couch with his injured foot elevated. "You don't need to call in to take care of me."
"Wasn't going to." He walks over to kiss the top of Charlie's head, running a hand down his arm to verify Charlie's presence in the world. "Someone needs to take Lucy for her morning run. Don't need her ripping the couch cushions to shreds because she's going stir crazy."
Matt ignores Charlie's knowing smiling as he whistles to call Lucy to the front door.