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It is two in the freaking morning. The usual calls have been made: to Malia, who, by Kira's observation, seems never to sleep; to Mason, who sounded like he was at a club; to Boyd, who sounded as if she'd woken him—tired, and somewhat annoyed.
None of them have seen her dog. All of them are sorry.
Sorry doesn't help Kira much.
She's had the little sucker what, four weeks? And he's gotten loose twice already?
“I should've picked a different dog,” she mumbles, and then immediately feels like a gigantic asshole. She loves Fox to pieces. She does. She doesn't want a different dog instead; she just wants the one she already owns back.
At her tiny kitchen table, she drops herself into a chair the way she'd dump down a heavy backpack at the end of the day. She stares at her cell phone, face-up on the scratched wood of the table. The damn thing is silent. So is Kira, until she drags a breath in all the way to the bottom of her lungs, huffs it out, and thunks her head down onto her folded arms.
“Fox,” she says sadly, aware that she's wallowing. She's allowed to be pathetic and mopey, okay: her dog is gone.
Again.
She sighs a second time.
When Kira wakes up she thinks what, then ow, then crap, because apparently she fell asleep on the table—not comfy—and now her phone is buzzing like an enraged wasp. She scrambles to snatch it up, thumbing the green accept button right away even though the number is unfamiliar.
Her stomach tight, she says, “Hello?”
“Hey, um... Is this Kira Yukimura?”
Her heart surges to her throat. Her voice comes out a couple pitches high. “Yes?” Please say you have my dog.
“This is Scott. Scott McCall?”
“Oh!” Kira says. She blinks several times. A frown starts between her brows. “Yeah. Hi. Um, why did you call?” If he'd called from work, he would've shown up as “VET” on her caller ID; he must be calling from his own phone.
Which is weird.
“Well, I hope this is okay, but I had my assistant text me your number from your file—which is really inappropriate, I know, but... I think I found your dog?”
Kira blinks again. Hope swells fast and hard in her chest before she can quash it. “Really?”
“You're Fox's owner, right? Fox was just... sitting on my front step when I got home. I don't know how he got here.”
“Oh, my gosh!” Kira says. She covers a smile with her hand. Her chest feels filled with helium-inflated balloons. “I mean, I knew he liked you, but gosh.”
Scott chuckles, which Kira decides she likes, which makes her cheeks blaze up pink. “Look, I don't mind keeping the little guy here tonight, as long as you can pick him up tomorrow,” Scott offers.
Kira bites her lip. “That's really nice of you,” she says.
“But let me guess, you'd rather pick him up now?” She can hear Scott's grin through the phone. The fire in her cheeks doesn't go out.
The clock on her microwave tells her it's just past three. “I'm sure you want to sleep, if you just got home,” she says instead of answering outright.
“True. But, see, if I'm not waiting for you to come pick him up, I'll end up playing with him for at least as long as it would've taken you to get here. And I'm sure you want to see him again as soon as possible.”
Kira hesitates.
“I really don't mind,” Scott assures her.
She caves. “Yes. I mean, thank you. I mean, I'd like to see him tonight—or, this morning. Can you text me your address?”
Fox jumps at her knees when Scott lets Kira into his apartment. She scoops him up even though he's a little heavy, rubs at the splotch of white patterned on his chest.
“Oh, I'm so glad Scott found you!” she coos to the puppy in her arms. He's blinky with sleepiness; she plops a kiss on his adorable head before she can bring herself to set him down and clip on his leash. “Thank you so, so much,” she says to Scott.
He grins at her, ducks his head, rubs at the back of his neck. Kira is still in the honeymoon phase where Fox is the cutest guy she's ever seen in her life, but, like, come on—Scott's pulling a pretty close second.
“It's no problem,” he tells her, eyes clicking back up to hers. “Really. It's not like I became a vet because I didn't like spending time with dogs.”
“And letting me come pick him up at three in the morning? There's no way that's anything but an inconvenience.”
Scott stares at her for a moment. He licks his lips. Ducks his head again to hide a smile. “I don't know about that.”
Kira blinks a few times. Scott's smile is bashful when he looks up.
He coughs to clear his throat. “Uh. Well, anyway. I'm glad to see Fox get home safe.” He looks down at Fox, who's sitting heavily, legs splayed, on Kira's foot (which is starting to go numb). “It's been fun, but I hope he doesn't have to come see me before his next regular check-up.”
“We'll be careful,” Kira promises. “And thank you again.”
Scott holds the door for them, gives a little half wave when Kira turns back on his front step. Fox bumps at her knee, looks at her with his puppy eyes, then looks at Scott, little body wagging. Kira looks from Fox to Scott, to his warm, dark eyes and easy, slanted smile.
She takes a breath. With a confidence she doesn't feel, she says, “Hey, d'you mind if I... keep your number in my phone?” She bites her lip, shakes her head. “Is it totally weird to be hitting on my vet? I'm sorry. We'll go.”
She turns, but Scott says, “No, keep it. Call me sometime.”
Kira grins, and follows Fox's bumbly, long-legged hops down the steps. Scott told her Fox probably has some Jack Russel, and that might keep him small—but Malia thinks he's built like he's part Pit or Boxer. Kira doesn't know a ton about dogs, but she knows enough to look at Fox's dorky, too-long legs and wide paws and be a little worried. But he licked her nose when they met at the shelter, and Kira was a goner.
(Not to mention that he's a pretty caramel color that looks almost fox-red in the right light, and she couldn't resist, okay? Maybe the kitsune in her felt a connection, or something. She thinks more that she just likes the joke—that the trickster spirit in her couldn't resist getting a little red dog and naming him Fox. But that's not exactly a thing she can mention in front of humans, veterinarians who make her blush included.)
Scott closes his front door and leans back against it. He told Kira he would've ended up playing with her puppy instead of sleeping if she hadn't come to pick him up, which was true, and he told her he didn't mind if she kept his number, which was also true—but he also told her he didn't know how Fox got to his apartment at three in the morning, and that one was kind of a big fat lie.
But really, how was he supposed to know that when he Alpha-roared at that kanima going after Stiles, he'd attract every dog in a twenty-mile radius that could find a way loose? And, what, was he supposed say that to Kira? Yeah, right. 'Cause she'd totally believe him if he said he was a werewolf.