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“i told you i didn’t want to do this,” fallon mutters like a child forced into a stuffy dress for a distant relative’s formal event. she’s pouting in the passenger seat of kirby’s jeep, arms crossed over her chest—indignant. she keeps her gaze locked on the buildings they’re passing by, both to take her mind off of the adventure of the day and to avoid breaking this angry toddler moment she’s having by looking at her girlfriend.
it’s unfortunate, really, that kirby is fallon’s kryptonite. it makes it almost too easy to get her to crack for anything, and if there’s one thing fallon hates it’s her own vulnerability.
it’s how they ended up here.
kirby’s always curled up in an armchair with a book when fallon makes her way home from work; her long legs hang over one arm and she rests her back on the other, a highlighter between her teeth because she “likes to remember the important stuff in every book.” it’s one of fallon’s favorite sights now, especially since this apartment is their own.
it has kirby everywhere, which is a nice change of pace from the manor which had… her mother everywhere. kirby’s in the colors on the wall, the accent pillows, the throw blankets; she’s on every mismatched mug in the cabinet, the exquisitely organized linen closet, the line of doc martens at the front door—kirby is everywhere in this apartment and that’s why fallon loves calling it home.
“i was thinking,” kirby starts once the front door opens.
fallon’s barely two feet past the jamb, but she sighs despite her instant smile. “dangerous.”
kirby snorts, dropping her head back to grin at the other woman upside down. “we should get a dog! a little one... apartment friendly! there are so many shelters around here, did you know that? i called a few and they said they’re totally down for us to come and spend some time with the dogs, and some of them even have puppies! i think a puppy would be a lot of work, but what about an old dog? one of them has a super old chihuahua without any teeth so his tongue sticks out like this and—” she finally takes a breath and sits upright when she notices fallon’s not-so-receptive expression. “babe?”
she hasn’t moved since kirby sprung her big idea on her, but she gently places her purse on the hook near the door and drops four inches when she pulls off her heels. “we’re not getting a dog.”
it’s a simple enough sentence. it won’t hurt any feelings and it won’t leave anything open-ended. there’s no room for interpretation.
“fallon—”
“no, kirby.” she can feel it starting in her chest so she clears her throat and turns away from her girlfriend as if she’s ready to leave the room (no) and the conversation (yes). it’s been two years and many hours of therapy now, and she hates that she still has this reaction.
kirby gets to her feet with a sigh and saunters over to where fallon has her back to her. “it’s not… i know nothing can replace bo. i’m not trying to do that.” she reaches out to touch her shoulder gently, but fallon shrugs her off.
“kind of feels that way.”
she takes a step back which makes fallon turn around to look at her. her eyes are clearly glassy and there’s a pale red creeping up her neck, but she won’t cry over this… again. kirby runs her fingers through her hair and sighs. “i thought we could get one together… and it would be our dog. bo was your dog. this one would be ours.”
fallon shrugs and huffs out a breath quickly. the ours thing is how kirby talks her into everything, and she knows it: it’s how they ended up with this apartment. it’s how they ended up taking tango lessons. it’s how they started talking about destination weddings. but, this time is different. this is different. “just… think about it? okay? no pressure.”
“you said you thought about it and you’re still on the fence,” kirby chirps, her gaze locked on the road ahead. the frame of her sunglasses is keeping her hair tucked behind her ears, the wind from her window blowing through it perfectly. “it’ll be fun, fallon!”
in lieu of a snarky comment, fallon opts to stay quiet and miserable. she knows she’s being childish. she knows any dog or cat or bird or rabbit or whatever isn’t meant to be a replacement for her beloved bo, but it still feels sacrilegious to even consider another pet. it feels blasphemous to be excited about reaching this particular milestone in their relationship.
when all else failed her, bo was there. when she needed a shoulder or an ear, bo was there with one and then some. bo had cemented himself as a pillar in her life and losing him felt like a part of her foundation had suddenly broken off and fell away.
would it be fair to this new dog? could she be fair to this new dog? what if it doesn’t like sneaking pb&j’s in the night like bo did? what if it does things obnoxiously loudly instead of in strong silence like bo did? what if it likes kirby more than it likes her? what if-
“we’re here!” kirby’s voice pierces fallon’s thought spiral like a needle and a balloon. when she doesn’t budge, kirby looks over at her. “hey,” her voice loses its general perk, and she brushes her thumb over fallon’s cheek. if there’s one thing fallon is good at, it’s maintaining a poker face in the worst of times… and she looks all but crushed now. “it’s okay. no pressure, i told you.”
the other woman’s reassurance is nice at best, but fallon just clears her throat before she reapplies her lipstick. “i heard you the first time.”
it’s loud inside. god, was bo ever this loud? they’re greeted by a small, sweet girl carrying a bag of dog food the size of her entire body, and she escorts them back to where the older dogs are allowed to roam free (and quietly).
kirby is instantly on the floor with them. of course, she immediately has 4 dogs begging her to pet and play with them because not even these stupid animals can resist her draw. “babe, come over here!”
fallon lifts her foot to take a step forward, but can’t get past the threshold of the door into this room. she can’t move. “i’m… good here for now.” she catches herself playing with the hem of her shirt — fucking fidgeting — and she rolls her eyes before glancing around the room. kirby’s voice echoes in it each time she laughs when any of the dogs does literally anything and she wants to be sitting next to her girlfriend covered in dog hair so desperately but she just… can’t move.
bo never really shed fur. he never did anything annoying or inconvenient, really... although, he did slobber. if he was excited or hungry or angry… it was like an unstoppable faucet turned on in his head. she’s not sure if she could handle something like that again.
that was something so very… bo.
she doesn’t mind watching kirby roll around with these dogs though. it always seems she’s at her most uninhibited when fallon’s standing by, observing. “any good ones?” she finally begins to feel comfortable enough to at least involve herself in the moment, and when kirby grins up at her she can’t help but smile back.
“they’re all good, fal. obviously.”
“obviously.”
fallon looks down at the cream-colored pup who’s just dropped a toy at her feet with a gentle nudge and before she can stop herself, she’s bending down to read the tag on the collar. “bella? is that your name?” she’s bo’s perfect opposite: tall and lean with pointy, alert ears. she initiated the contact but she isn’t pushy; she won’t invade fallon’s space. and they both share big, brown eyes that anyone could easily get lost in if they look too long.
(that’s kind of her thing.)
the dog tilts her head.
fallon mirrors her. “kirby?”
the redhead looks up from underneath a growing pile of dogs to where the two are clearly bonding. “yeah?”
“i want bella.”
sometimes, fallon gets annoyed with herself. it only happens late at night when they’ve turned off the tv to head to bed, but fallon is still sitting on the couch with bella’s head in her lap and her tail gently thudding against the cushion.
they choose not to change her name that day, to stay on theme with the ‘b’ dog names (kirby said they’d have to give their kids ‘b’ names too, then). it’s like bella knows how important bo is to her. she knows she’s not a replacement and she doesn’t want to be.
kirby starts calling her ‘the baby’ even before they’re all back home that night.
fallon always rolls her eyes, endeared, when she catches kirby slipping bella something off of her dinner plate.
she can’t help but laugh when she arrives home after work one night to the two of them in matching outfits.
when bella‘s sweet face pops up over her side of the bed one morning, a ring secured to her collar, fallon is less than surprised to find out that kirby had made sure to include their baby in her proposal.
she’s pulled out of her thoughts one evening when kirby leans down to kiss her sweetly; blue eyes meet brown for an unspoken exchange of love for one another. “c’mon, bells!” kirby titters, and a snap of her fingers has their dog trailing behind her to the bedroom.
fallon sits quietly for another minute, content.
content in finally understanding:
bo was her dog.
bella is theirs.