Pack Leader

This has taken me forever to write. My Harry-voice left me for some of it, leaving me on my own to deal. But, yeah, I'm pretty happy with it. Not mine. Enjoy!

It started out like you might expect. Although, I guess, with us, and you knowing what you do, that might actually be harder to expect than one would expect. Wow, what am I even saying? You know what? Let's start this whole disaster over. Okay? Okay.

Yeah, hello there, dear readers. Oh, what am I so eloquently introducing here? That would be the not so exhilarating tale of how Perry and I acquired another roommate. No worries to all you rabid fan girls, I'm the only one sharing a bed with Perry - at least in the way you're thinking.

After the whole Christmas Incident, as we now refer to it, Perry took me in. Taught me the basics of being a private detective - you know, how not to get caught and killed? - And generally just used me as his own personal slave when it came to everyday errands.

But, that's all beside the point. This story involves a case I was actually working.

The client was one Angela Haywood, a recent college graduate with a husband she suspected of cheating. Well, Perry and I had verified that. The guy wasn't really trying to hide it, evidently. We had photographic evidence in like, five minutes. Shortest stakeout in history. As opposed to every other fucking stakeout we've been on since.

We'd brought the evidence to Angela at her work, upon her request.

Her job? She happened to work at a local humane society part time as the on-call vet. That is related to the story. Foreshadowing, you heard of it?

You know what? I'll just stop trying to narrate this now. Just… I dunno, read.

They'd only been there a few moments, enough to inform Angela that her suspicions were correct.

She'd buried her head in her hands for a moment before gathering herself enough to speak. "Ugh, thank you. I know, that must sound strange, but I'm glad I know now, rather than years from now with kids involved, you know? So, thank you."

Perry nodded, and Harry offered a tissue, since she looked close to tears. They saw this often, the awkward conversation following the never fun 'breaking the news' speech.

Just then, a knock on the door disturbed them. A nervous looking volunteer poked his head into the office. "Ugh, Dr. Haywood? We're about to take the bandages off of the Dalmatian they brought in. Wondered if you want to supervise?"

Angela nodded. "Yeah, I'll be right there." She turned back to the two others. "If you'll excuse me… I'll be back in a moment." She quickly exited the room. "Oh, and feel free to look around. We have a lot of great dogs here."

Perry made a dismissive move of the suggestion, but she'd already gone. "Don't even think about it."

But, I wasn't listening. What? You honestly thought I'd shut up? Have you seen the movie? Really, Perry's been trying to shut me up since I met him, and… well, he's found a few ways now, but back when this story takes place he hadn't yet. Oh, God. I'm doing it again. Fuck. Let's just forget the whole me not narrating thing. I can't do it.

If you wanna hear this story, you'll have to put up with my crap ass narrating. Sorry.

Yeah, point is, I was already wandering out into the kennels.

Three Mutt pups in the first cage, looking like they hadn't even opened their eyes yet. An old Doberman like thing that ignored my passing and simply kept on snoozing. Two Black Labs. A Collie with three legs.

I stopped when I came to a cage with a golden retriever. "Hey, Perry." I called, unable to control my tactless wit. "This guy looks like you."

He'd been following me, and he now stood behind me staring at the rather prissy looking golden. It was sitting with a look quite comparable to the one Perry had been wearing when Harmony asked me why we'd been, as she put it, nacking on each other.

But, as awesome as that dog was, it was not why I'm telling this story.

"Fuck off." Perry scowled, with a glare that said 'we're working, idiot' and 'why do I put up with you?' How he manages to combine two different types of glare, I will never know. But, he's Perry, so he totally can.

I kept on browsing. A Pit Bull and a Shepherd in the next cage, a Husky looking thing in the next one.

And then, I stopped dead in my tracks.

"Perry."

"If you're pointing out another dog that looks like me, I'm shooting you." He was still lingering by the Golden Retriever's kennel, but I walked backwards, grabbed his arm, and pulled him towards the one I'd been looking at. "Jesus, Harry. What?"

"It's. That's. That dog is…" I stammered, still staring.

I could practically hear Perry roll his eyes. "Hey, moron. Complete sentences. Try it."

I motioned rather frantically with my hands. "That's the dog. You know, the dog that ate my finger."

The grey Giant Schnauzer looking thing (which Perry later informed me was actually a Briard) sat idly in front of the cage staring up at us.

"What? Do you want your finger back or something? Cause I'm thinking it's long gone by now."

"Oh, you're hilarious." I shot back at Perry, who was ready to move on.

But, Dr. Haywood came back before he could, looking moderately surprised. "Oh, I see you're looking at Doc."

"Is, ugh, that a problem?" I said, while Perry snorted at the name.

"No, it's just that he's not usually so social. He tends to run whenever someone gets near his cage. You're the first person he's stayed for." She explained.

I looked at Perry.

He got the message. It was clearly not one he wanted. "Oh, no. No. No, Harry. No dogs."

"Aw, come on, Perry." I pleaded. "Look at him. And you leave me alone all day, I need some company." And, yes, I know I sounded like a bitchy housewife. Perry has pointed that out far too fucking often in our years together.

"I let you move in with me, I let you work with me. No dog."

I looked up at him through my eyelashes, employing a task that I'd quickly learned made him give into me. "Please?" Sadly, it is not the only time, as you intuitive readers may have guessed, that I have begged for something from Perry. Only time in public, though. That's something, I guess.

He rolled his eyes. "No, Harry."

Realizing that we might actually agree on this with some prodding, Dr. Haywood spoke up. "Doc's been with us for a while now. If no one adopts him soon, we'll have to put him down."

I sent Perry another pleading look and I knew I had him.

"Ugh. Fine. Can we see him?"

Dr. Haywood called one of the volunteers out to deal with us. She gave us our paycheck and left us be, with an explanation of having a few new dogs coming in soon.

The volunteer was the one who'd called Angela away from our meeting. His name was Kevin, and he quickly looped a leash around 'Doc' and led him to a room where we could get to know him a bit.

"I've never seen him like this." Kevin told us, watching in stunned amusement as the dog leapt over toward me the second he was off leash.

"Well, looks like Harry attracts those of his own kind." Perry snarked, and I let the comment slide since he'd agreed. He turned to Kevin. "I'm sure there's a mountain of paperwork behind this. Can I get moving on that?"

Kevin nodded and led Perry out of the room, leaving me to play with Doc. That was going to have to be change number one.

Thirty minutes later, we were walking out of the humane society with the dog on one of those cheap leashes.

"I cannot believe I'm allowing a dog into my car. And a canine."

"Again, Perry, you're hilarious. However do you live with yourself?" I rolled my eyes. "I'll vacuum your beloved car once we get home, okay?"

He nodded, appeased by my answer. "So, to Petsmart?"

"Petsmart?"

He let out one of his 'you're a brainless idiot' sighs (you'd be amazed how many of his expressions I can name at this point, really, it has to be in the fucking thousands by now) and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You've clearly never had a dog before, have you?"

"Well, once, when I was like... 5." I amended.

"Dogs do require food. And collars. And leashes. And tags. And toys. And a bed. And a ton of other things. Idiot."

I rolled my eyes. "I knew that, I just didn't think you'd wanna do that right this second."

Luckily, there was a Petsmart not far from home, so we pulled in there on our way. The dog complied with our commands, following at a nice pace as we walked into the store. I silently applauded myself. At least I picked a well-trained canine, aside from the whole eating my finger thing. Then again, I was the moron who put my finger on ice in his bowl.

Can I ever shut up? Don't answer that.

We started with collars -

"No." I said, as firmly as I could manage. "No, just a million times, no."

"I'm paying for it." Perry reminded me, holding up a studded, black leather dog collar.

I'm still not sure if he bought that for the dog or for me. But, point is, I found a nice blue nylon collar for my dog. There's also a matching leash by the door. Unfortunately, there is also a matching leash in Perry's bedside table, but that's another story.

Once we'd covered that area, we grabbed a bag of dog food and various treats. From there, at Perry's insistence, we grabbed several jumbo bottles of dog shampoo, because evidently, if two dogs are living in his house (again, one of those being me in this worn out joke) at least one of them was going to be clean.

After that, we covered toys. One aisle I'm glad Perry missed because you can totally make some sick jokes out of some of those toys. He was still off choosing between expensive dog shampoos. I grabbed a container of tennis balls, a Frisbee, a few stuffed squeaky things (which I later learned should all be damned to hell), and a few rubber tug toys.

"Where's he going to sleep?" I asked, once I'd returned and Perry had finally chosen.

"The laundry room." He answered, looking stern about it. "No dogs in the bedrooms. Those carpets were damn expensive."

The dog bed we ended up choosing was ridiculously priced for its quality if nothing else. It was a micro bead pet bed. You'll see why later. But, yeah, bought some dog dishes, a brush, a book on training, and a few rawhides.

After nearly two hours in the store, we headed for the register. There was just one thing left to do.

"You're changing his name, right?" Perry asked. Doc had just been the name the humane society had given him.

I nodded, getting tokens for the tag machine from the cashier.

Perry joined me once everything else had been paid for.

"Hey, moron, you do know that technically-"

"Yes. I realize that. I'm calling him Hannibal because I want to. I am aware that him eating my finger does not make him a cannibal. It makes him a dog." I'd been prepared for that one.

Perry looked somewhat miffed that I'd stolen his rant. He recovered quickly enough. "Fine. Stupid name, though."

I snorted, as the tag came out of the machine. "Oh, that's mature." I know now that I subconsciously put both of our names on the tag, explaining the maxed out character limit.

"Can we go home now? I want my car vacuumed out before dark. I have a stakeout."

"You mean we?" I prodded, as he'd been taking me more often than not as of late.

He grinned. "Nope. Your new dog needs to acclimate himself with our house and you are cleaning up any messes he makes."

I sulked.

"Aw, honey," Malicious grin number 27 - aka, 'I'm so fucking with you now' appeared, and he flung an arm around my shoulder just as a group of people passed. "Don't worry. I know you love me more than that smelly old dog. I have to work, though. You'll just have to work out some sort of agreement."

"Fuck you." I said, glaring.

Much to my amusement, Hannibal evidently likes me enough to dislike Perry and growled at my tormentor. I spent the entire car ride home laughing.

"Laugh all you want. Even the dog thinks he owns you. That's what it means, you know? Him protecting you? You're his territory." All I can say to defend this round of dog psychology is that Perry watches waaaay too much Dog Whisperer.

I was still grinning like an idiot when we got out of the car. "Oh, laugh all you want. You're only defensive because you're jealous. You know, that whole not liking my dog thing? And, hey, aren't you protective of me?"

He so lovingly swatted the back of my head as I staggered through the front door with several bags and Hannibal on my tail. "Shut up, moron."

Three hours later, I found myself sitting alone in the office. I was making mental preparations for committing Hari Kari. Perry was going to be home any moment now and then I was going to be dead. That was it.

Why, might you ask? Remember me mentioning something about that luxury micro bead pet bed? Yeah, it might have something to do with that.

Hannibal was safely tied up in the back yard away from the mess he'd made and the imminent wrath of Perry.

"Hey, Perry, you know that bed we just bought? Yeah, um, it kind of exploded all over your- No." I shrugged, in my attempts to concoct an adequate excuse for what Perry would walk in on. "Perry, you know, I was thinking you might want some new carpet. You know, maybe a better shade of white to match your silk sheets…"

And then Perry walked in. He was focused on his camera, flipping through shots no doubt, so he failed to notice my presence. For a moment, anyway.

"How'd it go?" He asked, and then he finally looked up. He can evidently read guilt pretty damn easily, because he quickly edited that statement to, "What did you do?"

"Well, it's, ugh, not so much what I did…"

He did not look happy. "He's your dog. So, by default anything he did comes back to you. So. What did you do?" Perry had Stern Look number 3 - 'the answer better be good,' it meant.

I swallowed. "Ugh. Have you ever thought about redecorating your bedroom? Maybe with trillions of little micro beads everywhere?"

"He didn't." Perry practically exploded himself as he marched up the stairs to his room. "Oh. My. God. How did this happen?"

"I, ugh, might've left the laundry room door open and Hannibal may have possibly carried his bed in here and chewed it. A bit. Maybe." I stood in front of him, trying to block as much of the mess from his view as possible. "I, I mean, it's not as bad as it looks. A couple dozen trips through with the vacuum and…"

He practically ran back out of the room, cutting me off. "Fantastic. You can have it clean by tomorrow night then."

"What?"

"You heard me." Perry said, making a sharp turn into my room. "And I'll be nice enough to let you start in the morning. You. Bed. Now. No dog allowed." He commanded, and there was no way I was going to dare question his orders right now.

All in all, the mess got cleaned up, and his room ended up turning into our room. Our bed also turned into Hannibal's bed, except on occasion when Perry actually has the heart to lock him out, which is surprisingly rare - otherwise he sleeps on a bunch of blankets in the laundry room

And, eventually, Perry trained Hannibal not to growl at him when he was mean to me. Clearly, only Perry is allowed to be all possessive of me in our house.

Who would have thought that some dog eating my finger would end in my ending up with Perry? Huh. Weird.