A/N : So "Ink Fever" is still going, don't worry, but this little one shot is an extra that just had to be written. I've had to come home early from our holiday under very sad circumstances. We had two dogs, a chocolate Lab of 13 and a black of 3. The chocolate sadly became very ill on our trip and passed away. Our dogs are so important to us, such a source of love and comfort. Thankfully my father and I are very used to dealing with bodies and we have been able to bring her home for cremation.

I'm really sad, obviously, but this fic came out of happy memories.

"When do I get to know where we're going?" Peter asked impatiently. Hugged his jacket around him, dragging his feet along the sidewalk, "I don't like surprises. You know I don't"

Jubilee kept her silence, walked beside him, gently slipped an arm around his waist. Peter really did look the picture of misery – had done for the past week, to be fair. With the school half-empty on a term break, Angie away visiting her father, Erik off on business, Leon occupied on a mission with Kurt, and his own mother taking advantage of Lorna's air miles to visit family in Europe, he'd been feeling lonely and abandoned for days now. Jubilee had tried to keep him occupied, done her best to cheer him up, but had run out of solutions and still hadn't managed to draw Peter out of his deep blue funk one little bit. Last night he'd even refused cookie dough ice-cream, a sure-fire sign of him feeling depressed if he wasn't even roused to enthusiasm by his favourite sweet treat.

Over the couple of years she'd known him, Jubilee had had the chance to take note of almost all of Peter's little quirks. The way that a particularly long morning run meant he'd had bad dreams and was trying to outpace his own fears. The distracted way he would curl a finger in the locks of long hair at the back of his neck when he was deep in an unpleasant thought. The way he would eat well enough to keep going when he was depressed, but refuse anything extra, seeming to know that even his favourite food wouldn't make him feel better. The hours he would spend in the rec room playing on the arcade cabinet that the students had clubbed together to buy, eyes flickering rapidly, racking up high-scores and playing to the kill-screen, then rebooting the machine and starting over. Quite unlike his usual bubbly enthusiasm, he would get quiet and monosyllabic, sit slumped over and have a mournful, pensive look on his face that made him look far too like his father for his own good. All of that would usually pass of its own accord, but refusing cookie-dough? That was a symptom that required intervention, pronto.

"You'll like it I promise" Jubilee told him softly. Flashed him a big, bright smile. He looked back at her with dull, disinterested eyes, didn't bother to try returning her friendly look. Damn, but he was in deep this time. A few of the students who knew him best knew about his tendency toward anxious melancholy, and did their best to look out for him. Most however would only see the flashy, boisterous act he put on for other's benefits. It was a pity really, that he was so good-hearted and strong, Jubilee thought. People could help him out a lot better if he wasn't so dedicated to not making others feel they needed to look after him.

Finally, they had arrived at their destination, and Peter gave her a dubious look as they walked in.

"A Church hall?" he asked, "You know I'm not Christian, right?"

"We're not going to a service!" she laughed, "C'mon, through here. Trust me, you are going to *love* this"

She went ahead to push through a set of deeply unprepossessing double doors cluttered with advertisements for coffee mornings and yoga groups. Held it open for Peter to follow, and took his hand gently, waiting for the reaction.

There weren't many people in, but the hall was noisy and alive nonetheless with dozens of bouncing, adorable puppies. Chocolate and golden and black Labradors wagged their entire back ends in happiness. Scruffy, fluffy Lurchers and sleek greyhounds wriggled with pleasure at the fuss being made of them. Tiny Jack Russell's bounded around, mouths eternally open, and several miniature dachshunds flopped excitedly, huge satin ears bouncing. Jubilee gazed up at Peter, who was standing open-mouthed and wide-eyed, looking around the room and breathing even faster than usual.

"It's…. It's…."

"It's a Puppy Room" Jubilee told him, "You get an hour for a donation to the animal rescue trust that puts it on, and you can play with the puppies all you want"

She looked up at him, then blinked, gazing around to see him emptying his wallet into the donation box and exchanging a grin with the woman manning the desk, back at Jubilee's side briefly to pin a little badge to her lapel, the same as the one on his.

"I paid for you too. The Labs are mine" he said, zipped off and then back to grab her in a tight hug and give her a tiny, warm kiss on the cheek that brought colour and warmth into her face, said quietly "Thank you" before he was gone again.

For the next hour, Jubilee had made friends with a wide selection of gorgeous, loving puppies that licked her face and chewed her fingers affectionately, occasionally casting a glance at her friend and always seeing him either sat cross-legged with a wiggling bundle of chubby puppy in his arms, grinning wildly, or rolling around with several of them playing rough-and-tumble games like a little pup himself, or rolling balls for them and laughing delightedly every time one would bring them back to him. Silky fur and busy little tongues all over him, looking contented and delighted and mobbed by the dogs that seemed to sense his gentle, loving nature and treat him instinctively as a source of fun and affection.

It seemed like no time at all before their time had been up – in fact, in light of Peter having given them almost sixty dollars for the two of them, the woman had allowed him an extra forty minutes of time. Reluctantly, Jubilee had walked carefully over with a Jack Russell noisily yapping at her heels to see Peter laid out on a cushion on his side. A chocolate Labrador of about eight weeks was curled up close to his body, chin resting on one of his arms, little backside waving in pleasure, whilst his other hand gently massaged the soft fur behind its ears. He was gazing down at the puppy with such pure adoration that Jubilee hated to break them up, seeing the bright, peaceful smile on Peter's face and the equally placid and relaxed dog in his arms. He glanced up when her sneakers came into view, gave her a huge grin.

"I think she likes me" he said quietly. At the sound of his voice the little brown puppy jumped up, pawing at his shoulder with oversized feet, bathing his entire face in loving licks, tail wagging so hard its whole body shook. Peter laughed, sat up carefully and scooped the puppy into his arms for a last cuddle. Kissed it on the tip of its nose and set it down carefully. The pup gave him a longing head-on-the-side look, shook itself out, and trotted away to where a girl was playing with a Lurcher puppy to butt in on the fun.

As they walked out, the woman who had been manning the desk called them back, beamed at them, and offered them a little square of paper.

"Here" she said, "I hope you don't mind, you looked so comfortable with her. I had to take a picture"

He took the little square, grinned delightedly, and before he could stop himself flung his arms around the woman.

"Thanks," he told her, released her. She didn't seem too bothered by the random display of affection, "I'm sorry I couldn't give you more, I –"

"Hush!" she said sharply, "That donation will vaccinate ten of our puppies ready for rehoming. You've done a great job today – and if you ever want to come visit us and help out, this is our address"

She handed him a little card, which he tucked carefully away in his empty wallet. Thanked her again, and allowed Jubilee to lead him covered in fur and still smiling peacefully back out the door.

"Feeling better?" she asked after a while. Peter smiled at her, nodded enthusiastically.

"Thanks so much, Jubilee. You're the best" he told her, "How did you know that would cheer me up?"

"People who wouldn't be cheered up with puppies have no soul." She said, took his hand again, "Or they're scared of dogs which is, y'know, kinda fair I guess"

They walked on quietly for a while longer, Peter's mood almost palpably lighter, before he had said.

"You know what would be perfect right about now? Ice cream. You wanna buy me a sundae?"

"I'd love to" she grinned. Led him to a nearby parlour, glad to see that she had at last succeeded in lifting his spirits.

In Memory of Skye 17/10/03 - 15/08/16. Love you, big brown baby xx