SPN: New Dog, No Tricks by WesleysGirl
Gen, PG, 1140 words
Thanks to zortified for the beta. :-)
New Dog, No Tricks
by WesleysGirl
Dean left the burger joint with two bags clutched in one hand and a cardboard tray with the drinks in the other, then stopped dead as he approached the car. Sam's door was open; his brother was sitting sideways with his feet on the pavement. "Dude."
"It wasn't my idea," Sam said defensively.
"You were just sitting here and this rat came along and jumped into my car?"
"I'm pretty sure it's a chihuahua," Sam said.
"A chihuahua's a dog," Dean said, looking at Sam's lap, where the tiny brown animal was perched. "That thing's a rat."
"Rats don't wear collars," Sam pointed out.
"Maybe some fucked up suburban socialite rats do," Dean said. "Does it have a tag?"
Sam checked. "Yeah. It says, 'I belong to The Capuanos.' And there's an address."
"Just toss it out on the street, it'll find its way home," Dean said. He thrust the bag with Sam's food in it at Sam and made an impatient gesture as best he could with his hands still mostly full.
"Dean, come on." Sam pulled a paper-wrapped burger from the bag, unwrapped it, and held it in front of the dog, not coaxing it to eat but probably trying to see if it would. "She's so little. I can't just throw her out and expect she's gonna find her way home."
"That rat," Dean said, taking a savage bite from his own burger and ignoring the way the dog was gnawing on Sam's, "is not riding in my car."
Ten minutes later, they were driving across town to the address on the dog's tag. The dog had its hind feet on Sam's thigh and its front feet on the door handle below the passenger side window -- Sam had rolled the window down a few inches and the dog was sniffing the air happily, even if it was so small it could barely see out.
"You think if I went around a corner real fast...?" Dean asked.
Sam gave him a dirty look and rolled the window up an inch. "This could be some little kid's pet or something," he pointed out. "Do you really want to be responsible for killing it?"
Dean sighed. "Okay, okay, fine. I'm driving, aren't I?"
They pulled up in front of a house that wasn't a house anymore. There'd been a fire; the place was burned down to the foundation, and several of the trees were around it were singed, too. As Dean and Sam stood there looking, a mailman came strolling up the sidewalk.
"Hey," Sam said to him. He was holding the dog against his chest, his big hands looking even bigger cradling the tiny animal. "Hi. Do you know what happened to the family who lived here?"
The mailman shook his head sadly, but seemed eager enough to talk. Some people, you gave them an opportunity and they'd go on all day. "Died in the fire, 'bout a week ago. Saddest thing. Fire started in the kitchen, they think. Faulty wiring, maybe. It's been in all the papers."
"We think this might be their dog," Sam said. "The tag has their address. Do you recognize it?"
"Yeah, sure," the man said. "I mean, now that you mention it."
"Were there kids?" Dean asked.
"Uh-huh, one. She was about four or five, maybe. Used to see her out in the yard sometimes, throwing a ball for the dog."
"You don't know anyone who'd take it? Extended family or anything?" Sam asked.
"Don't think they had any. Sorry. 'Scuse me." The mailman continued off down the sidewalk, and the dog struggled so furiously in Sam's arms that he bent down and set it on the ground. It immediately took off for the house and ran up the stone steps that no longer led to a front door. It looked at the space where the house used to be, then turned and looked back at them, whining.
"Okay, now that's just pitiful," Dean said. He knew what Sam was thinking; hell, he couldn't help but think about it himself. A fire burning the house up, killing the family... it all hit a little too close to home.
Sam started for the steps, holding his hand out toward the dog. "Come on, girl," he said. "Come on." The dog ran in an unhappy, restless circle on what was left of the landing and whined some more.
"Just leave her, Sam," Dean said. "One of the neighbors will take her in or something."
"Are you kidding?" Sam turned around and looked at him, all big, soulful eyes. "We can't just leave her here. Did you notice the soot on her fur? She was here, Dean, when it happened. She deserves better than to just be abandoned."
God damn it, it was hard to say no to Sam when he was pleading like that. "We're on the road all the time, Sam. We can't have a dog."
"Sure we can. She's so small we can sneak her in places if we need to, or she can stay --"
"There's no way we're leaving that rat in my car by itself," Dean said, because he might be a sucker, but he wasn't that big a sucker. "Ever. She might decide the back seat looks like a good place to take a crap."
"I'm sure she's house-trained," Sam said, scooping the dog up and walking back toward Dean.
"Yeah, well, that doesn't mean she's car-trained," Dean grumbled. "She's your dog, okay? Whatever she needs, it's your job to take care of her."
"I know," Sam said. He smiled as the dog wriggled in his arms and licked his chin.
Dean continued to grumble his way through the afternoon, through the pet store (which did have some pretty cool poison arrow frogs, and he spent a couple of minutes trying to think of a good excuse to get some but failing) and the short walk through a public park when Sam insisted the dog needed to stretch its legs. He had to put some extra effort into it when his hand was resting on the seat and the dog sniffed at and then licked his knuckles tentatively.
He glanced at it and it looked up at him with hopeful brown eyes. "You've got bad breath," he said, and its tail wagged. Dean ignored Sam's laugh and scowled at the road.
That night, Dean couldn't sleep. Sam was snoring and it was getting on Dean's nerves. He was flat on his back, staring at the ceiling, when the dog jumped down off Sam's bed and up onto his. It nudged at him with its nose, blinking, then cocked its head to the side like it wanted to know what he was thinking. Which was stupid, Dean reminded himself. It was just a dumb dog.
Still, he rolled over onto his side and put an arm around it. "Good girl," Dean murmured, and the dog lay down and promptly went to sleep.
Least it didn't snore as loud as Sam did, Dean thought as he closed his eyes.
Thanks to zortified for the beta. :-)
New Dog, No Tricks
by WesleysGirl
Dean left the burger joint with two bags clutched in one hand and a cardboard tray with the drinks in the other, then stopped dead as he approached the car. Sam's door was open; his brother was sitting sideways with his feet on the pavement. "Dude."
"It wasn't my idea," Sam said defensively.
"You were just sitting here and this rat came along and jumped into my car?"
"I'm pretty sure it's a chihuahua," Sam said.
"A chihuahua's a dog," Dean said, looking at Sam's lap, where the tiny brown animal was perched. "That thing's a rat."
"Rats don't wear collars," Sam pointed out.
"Maybe some fucked up suburban socialite rats do," Dean said. "Does it have a tag?"
Sam checked. "Yeah. It says, 'I belong to The Capuanos.' And there's an address."
"Just toss it out on the street, it'll find its way home," Dean said. He thrust the bag with Sam's food in it at Sam and made an impatient gesture as best he could with his hands still mostly full.
"Dean, come on." Sam pulled a paper-wrapped burger from the bag, unwrapped it, and held it in front of the dog, not coaxing it to eat but probably trying to see if it would. "She's so little. I can't just throw her out and expect she's gonna find her way home."
"That rat," Dean said, taking a savage bite from his own burger and ignoring the way the dog was gnawing on Sam's, "is not riding in my car."
Ten minutes later, they were driving across town to the address on the dog's tag. The dog had its hind feet on Sam's thigh and its front feet on the door handle below the passenger side window -- Sam had rolled the window down a few inches and the dog was sniffing the air happily, even if it was so small it could barely see out.
"You think if I went around a corner real fast...?" Dean asked.
Sam gave him a dirty look and rolled the window up an inch. "This could be some little kid's pet or something," he pointed out. "Do you really want to be responsible for killing it?"
Dean sighed. "Okay, okay, fine. I'm driving, aren't I?"
They pulled up in front of a house that wasn't a house anymore. There'd been a fire; the place was burned down to the foundation, and several of the trees were around it were singed, too. As Dean and Sam stood there looking, a mailman came strolling up the sidewalk.
"Hey," Sam said to him. He was holding the dog against his chest, his big hands looking even bigger cradling the tiny animal. "Hi. Do you know what happened to the family who lived here?"
The mailman shook his head sadly, but seemed eager enough to talk. Some people, you gave them an opportunity and they'd go on all day. "Died in the fire, 'bout a week ago. Saddest thing. Fire started in the kitchen, they think. Faulty wiring, maybe. It's been in all the papers."
"We think this might be their dog," Sam said. "The tag has their address. Do you recognize it?"
"Yeah, sure," the man said. "I mean, now that you mention it."
"Were there kids?" Dean asked.
"Uh-huh, one. She was about four or five, maybe. Used to see her out in the yard sometimes, throwing a ball for the dog."
"You don't know anyone who'd take it? Extended family or anything?" Sam asked.
"Don't think they had any. Sorry. 'Scuse me." The mailman continued off down the sidewalk, and the dog struggled so furiously in Sam's arms that he bent down and set it on the ground. It immediately took off for the house and ran up the stone steps that no longer led to a front door. It looked at the space where the house used to be, then turned and looked back at them, whining.
"Okay, now that's just pitiful," Dean said. He knew what Sam was thinking; hell, he couldn't help but think about it himself. A fire burning the house up, killing the family... it all hit a little too close to home.
Sam started for the steps, holding his hand out toward the dog. "Come on, girl," he said. "Come on." The dog ran in an unhappy, restless circle on what was left of the landing and whined some more.
"Just leave her, Sam," Dean said. "One of the neighbors will take her in or something."
"Are you kidding?" Sam turned around and looked at him, all big, soulful eyes. "We can't just leave her here. Did you notice the soot on her fur? She was here, Dean, when it happened. She deserves better than to just be abandoned."
God damn it, it was hard to say no to Sam when he was pleading like that. "We're on the road all the time, Sam. We can't have a dog."
"Sure we can. She's so small we can sneak her in places if we need to, or she can stay --"
"There's no way we're leaving that rat in my car by itself," Dean said, because he might be a sucker, but he wasn't that big a sucker. "Ever. She might decide the back seat looks like a good place to take a crap."
"I'm sure she's house-trained," Sam said, scooping the dog up and walking back toward Dean.
"Yeah, well, that doesn't mean she's car-trained," Dean grumbled. "She's your dog, okay? Whatever she needs, it's your job to take care of her."
"I know," Sam said. He smiled as the dog wriggled in his arms and licked his chin.
Dean continued to grumble his way through the afternoon, through the pet store (which did have some pretty cool poison arrow frogs, and he spent a couple of minutes trying to think of a good excuse to get some but failing) and the short walk through a public park when Sam insisted the dog needed to stretch its legs. He had to put some extra effort into it when his hand was resting on the seat and the dog sniffed at and then licked his knuckles tentatively.
He glanced at it and it looked up at him with hopeful brown eyes. "You've got bad breath," he said, and its tail wagged. Dean ignored Sam's laugh and scowled at the road.
That night, Dean couldn't sleep. Sam was snoring and it was getting on Dean's nerves. He was flat on his back, staring at the ceiling, when the dog jumped down off Sam's bed and up onto his. It nudged at him with its nose, blinking, then cocked its head to the side like it wanted to know what he was thinking. Which was stupid, Dean reminded himself. It was just a dumb dog.
Still, he rolled over onto his side and put an arm around it. "Good girl," Dean murmured, and the dog lay down and promptly went to sleep.
Least it didn't snore as loud as Sam did, Dean thought as he closed his eyes.