Fic: Mosaic 3/? - Dogs
A/N: Okay, here’s another one. One of these days I may even manage to write a fluffy one. Or, well, at least a slightly less depressing one. …Maybe.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Dogs
Neal sat in front of the Burke’s couch, waiting for Peter, rubbing a very happy Satchmo’s tummy. His tail thumped contentedly against the floor, and one leg kept kicking up which meant he was scratching just the right spot. Neal loved Satchmo. He was like the dog he’d always wanted, the kind he dreamed about when he was little, back when he still dreamed, before the nightmares moved in and wouldn’t leave. When Neal was still very little a dog was near the top of his Dream-List.
But it still came after “a family,” and “a home,” and he could never seem to keep those.
One time though, just once, he thought his dreams had come true. He got sent to live with a new family, a young couple. The man wore ties and the woman smelled like honey and apples, and they lived in a house with a yard and a little white fence.
They smiled, and they laughed, and the only times they ever touched him was to ruffle his hair, or, once, to give him a hug when he scraped his knees. And they even got a dog, a little lab puppy that would run around like his tail was on fire, chasing tennis balls and tugging at Neal’s shoe laces and jumping through the sprinkler. For the first time ever, Neal had a family, a home, and a dog.
Back when Neal still dreamed, he thought that just maybe he could keep all this.
He should have known better.
“Neal!”
Neal started, glancing up at Peter.
“Hey, come on, time to go. Where were you?”
Neal glanced down at the boneless heap of Happy-Puppy called Satchmo, and tried to forget the little cuddly puppy that for two whole months would curl up beside him in bed and drool and snore and make him believe that sometimes dreams did come true.
Neal put on a smile, and directed it at Peter. “Just thinking about the case.” He stood up and brushed the blonde fur from his suit, ignoring Satchmo’s indignant huff.
Neal tried to forget, because he hates to think what a fool he was, believing that good things just happen, that the universe would be so kind as to hand you what you wish for. But he learned.
He learned when two months later they kept the dog.
But they didn’t keep him.