Chapter Text
"Do you think it's an animal aggression trouble? Like maybe someone who's afraid of dogs and expects them to attack, so they do?"
Audrey, at her desk and frowning at the two reports of dog attacks from the last day and half, glanced up at Nathan for his response. He shrugged, looking over her shoulder and eyeing his coffee before taking a sip. Surly it had cooled since she'd warned him off it five minutes ago.
"Or rabies. Or just pissed off dogs." He said. The paper on the left, closest to him, was a statement from Lee Rackshaw, who at a quarter to nine last night was rushed upon by a large dog, which was reported to be a possible Rhodesian ridgeback mix. The attack was swift, but viciously brutal, and the dog had disappeared when a passerby had approached. Lee was in the hospital now for several bites, lacerations, and two missing fingers.
Audrey directed her frown from the papers to him, twisting in her chair to face him. Her hair, loose today, brushed his hand where he gripped her chair. Nathan tried to pay attention to what she was saying.
"You really think this is something normal?" She asked incredulously. Nathan shrugged again, giving in and twining her hair around his fingers, getting a couple light tugs in before she aimed an elbow at his stomach.
"It does happen occasionally." He replied dryly. Audrey scoffed, reaching for her laptop with a muttered comment that sounded suspiciously like "More like boringly."
Straightening, Nathan finished his coffee and set the empty mug by Audrey's. Giving a hanging lock of hair another tug and ignoring her muted swear, Nathan stepped away, heading for the door to grab his jacket off the hook.
"I'm going to run down to Rosemary's and grab breakfast." He said, watching where his hands were to pull on his jacket. He used to not bother with it. It's not like he'd feel the cold and it wasn't more than maybe eights minutes to walk to the bakery. But Parker would bitch and bully him for a solid five minutes if he didn't, and not let him leave if he tried. So now, if he had to step outside for more than thirty seconds, he put on his damn jacket.
"Alright. Don't get attacked by any dogs with a bone to pick." Nathan stopped in the door, making a face and turning to look at her. She was staring intently at her computer, clicking away on the mouse, but her mouth was twitching.
"That was terrible Parker."
Audrey made an affronted noise.
"What's terrible is that you left your empty cup on my desk." She shot back, glancing pointedly at his abandoned mug. Nathan raised an eyebrow.
"Just figured I'd leave you an extra when you get a refill. You should be happy, most friends discourage addictions."
Audrey blinked at him, then without breaking eye contact, picked up her mug and drained it, using her free hand to flip him off.
Smiling, Nathan stepped back and let the door fall shut.
Outside, the sky hung low and gray, weeping drizzle and shifting with what Nathan saw to be very light wind. A couple slow cars trundled down the road, and a man with no overcoat was hurrying down the far sidewalk. Looking to slide his hands into his pockets, Nathan went down the steps. Angled to head left, he didn't quite see what was approaching, but something dark and large was coming up on his right. He turned, already reaching for his side arm, and when he saw that it was a dog, he drew but didn't yet aim. Like kids, Nathan loved dogs, and he was loath to shoot one, even at his own risk. But there were other people, like the man down the street, or the person or people who'd no doubt be getting out of the car that just parked. He'd hate it, but he couldn't let an aggressive dog go after someone.
However, the dog didn't seem aggressive, or at the very least, it was smart enough to realize what a gun could do to it. Ears pinned flat to its skull, It eyed the 9mm in Nathan's hands warily, paused a few feet away, one paw raised as if to start back. It's dark eyes lifted to Nathan's face, it's ears flagging forward. A long black tail swayed back and forth slowly, uncertainly. Nathan, equally uncertain but going for optimism, holstered his gun. Immediately, the dog relaxed, and Nathan almost pulled his weapon again as the dog rushed up to him. It didn't attack though. It stood at his feet, tail wagging and shifting on its paws, making small high whines as it looked up at him.
Throwing caution aside in a move his late father would abhor, Nathan went down on one knee, putting himself level with the dog. It was a German Shepard, or mostly one. It didn't have the sloping hips of common shepherds, but it did have the more even back of the working line. Might be that some jackass adopted a failed K9, decided it was too much work and trouble, and dumped at the station assuming they'd take care of it. As a general fact, people were awful, so it wasn't outside the realm of possibility.
Size and build suggested male. All in black, with a long and sleek body, a heavy ruff around the neck, he was a handsome animal. With Nathan now at his height, he leaned forward to sniff at his face, from his brow to cheek to jaw. He swore he felt the ghost of warm air on his skin.
"Sweet, aren't you?" Nathan said, smiling. Much like with children, Nathan always hesitated to do more than hold for fear of accidentally causing pain, so he watched carefully between the dog's ears as he brought his hands up. He settled them lightly on the dog's shoulder and neck, and abruptly jerked away, shocked. Warmth. He felt warmth and fur, thick and soft, sliding against his hands. The dog, started by the jolt, pinned it's pointed ears back again, whining uneasily. Nathan stared at the animal. The dog gazed back, wearing an expression that was almost worried, ears flickering back forward and twitching. Slowly, Nathan reached out, brushing his fingers over the side of the dog's face, feeling (feeling) a fine smooth coat move subtly under his touch. The dog leaned back, turning to nuzzle his hand, nose brightly cold against Nathan's palm. A warm, damp tongue licked over his knuckles.
“Damn it, Parker was right." Nathan sighed, but he was smiling, and the dog's tail started wagging at his voice. Nathan studied the dog, looking for anything that would define him as unusual. Despite his brief alarm, and the lingering thought in the back of his mind warning him this was a trouble made animal, Nathan used both hands and carded his fingers through the dog's fur, petting along his neck, rubbing the bases of his ears. It'd been a long time since he'd felt a dog's fur.
The dog didn't seem to mind, making a low, pleased sounding rumble in his chest, pressing into the touch as he looked for a collar. There was no obvious brightly colored nylon or leather, but a glint amongst the dark hair on the dog's chest caught his eye. When Nathan found and lifted a cord from the dense fur, a gunmetal whistle swung forward.
Nathan dropped his hands. He looked in the dog's eyes. They were dark, far darker than a dog's normally should be. He breathed a long breath out his nose, resigned.
"Duke."
With a joyful yip, the dog that was apparently not a dog or even a trouble manifested creature, but Duke Crocker, threw himself bodily at Nathan. Balanced on one knee, Nathan was easily toppled, and he found himself suddenly facing the sky, the dog on top of him, wiggling and nosing at his neck.
"Duke, what are you doing-" Too many sensations. Weight pressing down on his sternum, paws hard points of pressure on his chest, nails poking through his shirt. He had to fight the urge to laugh as the dog huffed and licked at his neck and face. But it wasn't a dog. It was Duke.
Laughter dying in his throat, Nathan got his hands on the front of Duke's shoulders and heaved him to the side, righting himself to a sitting position. A glance around provided that no one had paid his situation any notice, so he remained seated and spoke to Duke.
"How'd this happen?" Duke was a dog, obviously he couldn't speak, but Nathan was hoping for some kind of reaction other than a few more vigorous tail wags. He looked at Nathan, mouth open slightly, tongue lolling out in a dog's grin, big ears perked forward. The expression was disconcertingly familiar. Nathan sighed.
"You don't understand me, do you?" Not so much as a head shake. Duke whined and shifted on his paws. Nathan rolled his eyes.
"Parker's going to love this."
When Nathan opened the office door, Parker glanced up, went back to her computer, then did a double take.
"What happened to you?" Nathan blinked, uncomprehending for a second before looking down at himself. His shirt was rumpled, one of the buttons open.
"What?" There was a massive dog next to him, they'd had two reports of dog attacks, and Audrey was criticizing his appearance.
"You're all flushed and your hairs a wreck. Did you get jumped? I don't mean like, assaulted or mugged, but the kind of jumped that involves groping and tongue."
Nathan couldn't tell for certain, but he was sure his face was on fire if Parker's widening grin was anything to go by. Judging by how his vision widened slightly, he was also gaping like an idiot.
"Also, didn't I tell you to avoid dogs?" Really, the amount of humor in her tone was offensive.
"It's Duke." He choked out. Audrey paused as she stood, raising one eyebrow. "The dog, he's Duke."
Audrey didn't doubt spontaneous animal transformation for a moment.
After Nathan gave her the rundown of his short cut pastry run, she picked up her mug, refilled unsurprisingly, and took a sip, free hand on her hip as she eyed the two of them.
"He seems to like you, doesn't he?" She said, with a smirk that made Nathan want to both grind his teeth and wrap his hands around her hips.
Stepping further in to shut the door, Nathan had to coax Duke to follow him. He wasn't really surprised. Getting into the station had been a fight Nathan hadn't expected. Duke had followed easy enough up the steps and to the door, but when it came to actually crossing the threshold, he'd stopped and refused another inch forward. It'd taken Nathan ten minutes of swearing and pleading both to get Duke to entire the building, and he'd done so in halting, jerking movements. After he'd made it inside, he'd stuck ridiculously close to Nathan's legs, nearly tripping him several times on the way to the office. Nathan had sworn colorfully enough that Stan had swiveled in his chair in surprise. The fact the police chief had acquired a dog apparently didn't faze him as much as the profanity.
When Duke seemed to realize where they were and looked away from staring up at Nathan, his attention caught on Audrey. His eyes lit up, and his tail began wagging, his whole body moving with the motion.
"Hey handsome." Audrey said, smiling, still with that same lift of humor as she looked down at the Shepard. Duke, much the same as he had with Nathan, hurried forward to meet her. Audrey didn't have time to kneel though, and before she could so much as put her hands up, Duke was rising up on his back legs, his paws on Audrey's chest, knocking against the mug she held in her hand, spilling the coffee on her.
"Oh shit." Audrey swore, pulling her shirt away from her body. Duke's sliding paws dragged at the material, his claws pulling little runs in it.
"Damn it Duke." Nathan snapped, lurching forward to grab handfuls of fur, distractingly warm and soft, and yanking Duke roughly aside. He landed to the left of them, scrambling to keep his feet under him, ears swiveling, eyes big. Nathan ignored him as he checked Audrey over. She was holding her shirt out with a thumb and forefinger, grimacing as she flapped her free hand around in frustration, mug in two pieces on the floor, what coffee that missed her shirt puddled at her feet.
"Shit that's hot." She said, aggravated. Nathan cautiously touched a sliver of her exposed stomach, the skin underneath his fingers damp and vibrantly hot. Not hot enough to burn though at least. Nathan dropped his hand and rounded on the dog, scowling. Duke, already tense and watching, shrank back, hackles rising along his shoulders and spine.
"You could've hurt her," Nathan said harshly. "What the hell were you thinking?" Duke growled softly, ears folded back. He ducked his head, crouched on the floor.
"Hey hey hey," Audrey said, coming forward to place a hand on Nathan's chest. "He's a dog, he wasn't thinking. He was just happy to see me."
Nathan scowled at Duke, the same scowl he'd been giving for the last decade. Audrey shifted her hand, the feeling odd and muted through his shirt, but present. One fingertip brushed through the opening where the one button was undone, making a single tiny point of feeling on his breastbone that immediately had Nathan's attention.
"It was an accident." Audrey continued, calm and placating, holding out her free hand towards Duke, who after a second of hesitation, eased forward, tail swishing. Nathan must've tensed, because Audrey curled her fingers a little, the nail digging into his skin.
Duke, sensing Nathan's lingering irritation, hesitated again. Head low, his tail falling still, he met Nathan's eyes. A moment of very still silence, then a subtle growl emanated from his throat. They stared at each other, Nathan glaring, Duke's lips wrinkling.
"Cut it out." Audrey warned. Duke's lips dropped and he retreated to the wall, watching the pair with an expression that if he'd been a regular dog would've absolutely gutted Nathan to see. As it was, he only felt a vague sense of guilt before he looked back at the ruined front of Audrey's white shirt, and the red splotches on her skin above the neckline. When he raised his gaze to her face it was to find her watching him with an expression that was both reproachful and maybe sad.
"I'm going to go steal a uniform shirt, and then we'll figure this out." She said, hand falling away from Nathan's chest. She looked between the two of them.
"Don't kill each other while I'm gone."
Once she'd left, Nathan decidedly turned away from Duke and positioned himself at his desk and started going over the reports again. Earlier, they'd been running on the assumption that these were just animals. Now, knowing they were people sporting fur coats and long teeth, it shifted the perspective. Casting a wary glance at Duke, who'd settled on the couch, Nathan wrote down the names and addresses of the two victims, adding any relevant details he knew of. Lee was a long time local, untroubled. Not one of the Rev's men but still not someone Nathan particularly liked. Lee was abrasive and bombastic, with a loud mouth and a propensity for being demeaning to his wife.
The door opened, admitting Audrey in. The blue uniform shirt was tucked into her dark wash jeans, hugging her waist, and the sleeves followed the trim lines of her arms down to where the cuffs buttoned crisply at the wrists. She smoothed her hands down her stomach.
"Good to see you're both still in one piece." She commented dryly, straightening her collar. The top two buttons were open. Nathan, realizing he'd stopped writing and was staring, shook his head. Audrey rolled her eyes. Duke lifted his head towards her, ears laying back and tail thumping on the couch. Audrey grinned, tossing herself down on the couch him. Immediately, Duke's tail sped up and he started nosing at her face. Audrey huffed laughter, scrubbing her hands along his sides and back. It was Nathan's turn to roll his eyes.
"You know he's not an actual dog right?" Audrey snorted.
"Of course, but just look at his face." Both hands on either side of Duke's head, she pushed up the loose skin of his neck up around his cheeks, turning him to face Nathan. His tongue rolled out, panting happily, Audrey's antics squeezing his eyes half shut.
Nathan looked at Parker, unimpressed. She sighed, put upon.
"Alright, alright. Killjoy." Nathan's lip twitched despite himself. Audrey settled on the couch, Duke wrapped around her like a black blanket. She placed a hand on his neck, playing with his fur.
"So the dogs are people. We should talk to Tor, see if it's related to his trouble or Jesse's." She said. Nathan nodded.
"Reasonable start. Dogs to people, people to dogs."
"I mean, it's the same thing, just flipped. Duke lacks inhibitions-"
"Nothing new." Audrey scowled, continuing. Duke's tail thumped.
"But he seems to still have the strongest traits of himself. Dislike of this place, friendly towards me-"
"Being a general ass."
"Nathan Wuornos, interrupt me one more time and I'm going to slap you." Some expression must've crossed Nathan's face, because Audrey sighed exasperatedly. "Except you'd probably like it, so that wouldn't work."
Once again, Nathan had the suspicion his face was very, very red. He cleared his throat, picking up a report, arms crossed.
"Say," Audrey started, with a tone that immediately made Nathan cautious. Over the top of the paper, he saw her eyes narrowed at him thoughtfully. "What'd he do when he showed up? Try to bite you or anything?"
With the way she was stroking Duke's head and the corner of her mouth was twisted in a half smirk, Nathan suspected she wasn't expecting a confirmative response. He scowled at the paper. Without the ability to hide behind sarcastic or belittling remarks, underneath the offensive jokes, barbs and banter, Duke had been happy to see Nathan. Just like he'd been when they were kids.
"No, he didn't." He said finally, flatly. He tossed the report down. It landed with a slap on the desk. "We should go talk to Tor. Maybe swing by the hospital and see if anybody with a grudge against Lee Rackshaw has gone missing recently."
Audrey raised her eyebrows but didn't say anything. She stood and gestured to Duke, who laid placidly on the couch, looking up at them.
"Sounds like a plan, but we can't leave him here. Even if he had his wits about him, I doubt he'd hesitate to tear this place up." She said, smiling down at the Dog. Aware he was the focus of attention, Duke sat up a little, stretching his head out for Audrey to scratch under his chin. Nathan scoffed, but looked Duke over appraisingly, thinking of his earlier idea of why a dog had been outside a police station. He did have the working line look.
"He'll come with us." He said, earning a genuine look of surprise from Audrey. He shrugged, going for the rack for his jacket before realizing he still had it on from earlier. He nodded to Duke.
"K9 officer Crocker. Newest addition to Haven P.D."
Apparently, Duke recognized his last name, because he slid off the couch to stand between them, looking back and forth from Nathan to Audrey expectantly. Audrey made a face.
"He's going just love that when he's back to normal." She commented, and Nathan tipped her a wary smile.
"Should we get a collar and leash?" Audrey wondered, frowning at Duke in the Bronco's backseat. If Nathan could've felt, he would've shuddered.
"No." He said, shortly. There was no possible way he was going to put a collar on Duke and deal with the subsequent jokes and innuendo that would inevitably follow when he was back on two legs. Audrey must've caught on because she grinned a little before her face went pensive again.
"What if he gets a wild hair and runs? He could get hit by a car."
"If only." Nathan replied immediately, mouth faster than his brain, derogatory comments habit. But the mental image made the back of his mouth taste like bile. Audrey's mouth went flat, and she aimed a punch at his jacket covered shoulder. She paused mid motion, recalculated, and reached instead for his ear. She twisted it hard before he could jerk out of reach.
"Ow! You want us to wreck Parker?" Audrey made a sound like a displeased cat that wasn't dissimilar to how his father had reacted to Nathan's attitude.
"If only." She said mockingly, glaring. He resisted the ridiculous urge to rub his ear, vividly recalling Sarah doing the exact same thing to him. He almost did wreck when a black snout appeared in the corner of his eye. Duke had his head resting on the back of the driver's side, panting in Nathan's ear. He scowled, pulling away. Duke had terrible breath.
"He adores you like this. You should think about that." The judgment in her tone had Nathan considering deliberately wrecking, except they were in his bronco, not a cruiser, and he'd rather rupture his eardrums than abuse his truck.
Audrey pulled out her phone. "I'm calling the Herald."
Conversation clearly over, Nathan focused on driving, glaring at the road. He felt like a ten-year-old who'd been chastised. But not, he thought reluctantly, entirely unjustly. Adoring or not, Duke had followed Nathan without prompting, staying by his side all the way out of the station, hopping into the truck the moment he'd opened the door. He'd even sat when Nathan had offhandedly said so. He wanted to say it was just the canine instinct to listen to a dominant personality, but even Nathan knew that was bullshit. He was self-aware enough to know that while he was capable and decent at being in charge, he also gave in without hesitation any time Parker took charge, (or got flustered whenever she stood over him at his desk for that matter) He wasn't precisely -dominant-. Besides, when they'd left, Audrey had tried to call Duke back from following Nathan to the driver's side, the side in the street, he'd merely looked at her, wagged his tail, and ignored her coaxing as he stood at Nathan's feet.
Nathan sighed. Parker had a point. Acknowledging that though, would mean re-evaluating years of fights and arrests and distrust. Admittedly, it had died down from blazing anger to half heated bickering lately, but there was deep water under their bridge, and Nathan wasn't sure it could be forgiven easily. But that, that was probably more his hang up than Duke's.
Rolling to an idling stop at a red light, he eyed Duke's muzzle, contentedly resting on him, a subtle weight on his shoulder. He glanced at Parker, talking to what sounded like Vince, looking out the window.
Surreptitiously, Nathan lifted a hand to briefly, gently rub at Duke's face.
Duke, ever the traitor, wagged his tail. Standing along the seat as he was, his hindquarters directly behind Audrey's seat, his tail thwacked her squarely in the back of the head.
Audrey dropped the phone, swearing.
Nathan, using his conveniently raised hand, rubbed his eye, hiding a smile.
After a long but productive day of tracking down leads, they ended up in the parking lot of the Gull.
While they hadn't found the cause for the trouble yet, they did manage to turn up some earth. At the hospital, after trial and error of trying to walk away from the bronco with Duke locked inside, Nathan had grudgingly waited on the street with him as Audrey went to conduct the interview. Lee's wife had been present and had confessed to Audrey that she was stepping out on Lee with a woodworker, Gregory Porter. After a stop back at the station for a directory, they'd found Gregory's house empty, and his brother had said he hadn't heard from him since the morning previous. At the Harald, Vince and Dave didn't have anything useful to offer other than a cabin a few miles outside of town owned by Cullen Gray, a man who they spoke of as sort of animal activist. While that definitely might be something, it wasn't at the top of the list. That had been Tor, but that had been a dead end. He and Jesse were under no stress, Cookie was a happy thriving dog who been absolutely over joyed at the sight of Duke, who for his part, bore Cookie's enthusiasm genially enough, though there was swift snap of teeth when the other dog had started towards Duke's hindquarters. Apparently, Duke still maintained his preference for personal space.
Now, done with traipsing all over town for the day, Nathan, Audrey and Duke were together in the Bronco in the restaurant's parking lot, attempting to have dinner.
"Do not," Nathan began threateningly, hand on Duke's ruff. "Eat my mozzarella sticks."
In the front seat, planted resolutely between them, Duke sat. He huffed at being denied the food, despite his own half finished take out box balanced on Nathan's thigh. Wide brown eyes sought Nathan's, gazing at him with quiet pleading. Nathan frowned back. Duke whined, cocking his head to the side. Sighing and ignoring Parker's snickering, he picked up a mozzarella stick from the paper container on the dash, bit half off and gave Duke the rest.
"Sucker." Audrey teased. Nathan gave her a look.
"You gave him a bite of your grilled tomato and pesto sandwich. You didn't even share that with me last time. If one of us is a sucker, it's you Parker." Which might not have been totally true, given the fact he hadn't so much as swore when Duke had leapt over the bench to claim the middle seat, but Audrey had threatened loss of fingers when he'd attempted to try that sandwich last week, so clearly someone had a soft spot. Nathan wasn't sure if that bothered him or not.
During the drive, Duke had kept his place in the backseat without fuss, watching out the window or once again perching his chin on Nathan's shoulder as he'd done all day. Unfortunately, the last time, Audrey had caught him patting Duke's face, and he knew he'd be hearing about that slip up long after this trouble was over. She'd finally gotten off a truly left field tangent about Nathan's secret fondness for Duke's pretty hair, which had gone on so long they had arrived and parked at the Gull before she'd ceased. She'd left them, or rather Nathan had shooed her out, to go order food and inform the staff that the owner might be absent a few days. Not an uncommon occurrence, given their lives, and he knew Tracy wouldn't bat an eye. She never outright spoke of the troubles, and neither did they, but any time one of them had to explain any weird happenings, she got a wary glint in her eyes and accepted without question whatever ludicrous or haphazard excuse they gave her. Honestly, they were going to have to tell Duke to give her raise.
For now, things were under control, and they managed to finish their dinner without losing too much to the dog tax, though by Duke's expression you'd think they hadn't fed him at all.
"So, plan for the night? Audrey asked, bagging up the trash. Duke turned to her, folding himself on the seat. His long tail dropped over Nathan's lap, his head on Audrey's leg. She patted between his ears, smiling down at him. Nathan wondered if she was this enamored with all dogs or if this was a one off because it was Duke. She'd wanted to keep Cookie and had given him slow strokes and a long wistful look when they saw him earlier. She hadn't gotten a chance to be a dog person, but maybe now she would be, if given an opportunity.
"I'd say he should stay with you, in case something changes with the trouble, but somehow I doubt that'd go over well." Audrey snorted.
"No, no, he would not be happy." Likely true. Duke would probably give Nathan shit for keeping him from a pretty women's bed, even if he was in no state to appreciate it. Nathan could say it was his choice anyway because he made no move whatsoever to follow after Audrey when she got out. She even made kissing noises and -come here- gestures with her hands, like a scene from a dog movie where they fight over who the dog loves more. Duke just wagged his tail in Nathan's lap, laid out on his stomach, stretching his paws out to her, ears back in a conciliatory manner and panting. Audrey pouted, hands on her hips, breeze gusting up behind her to ruffle her hair and Duke's. She slanted an eye at Nathan.
"Clearly, you're his favorite." She said. There was something in her expression he couldn't place, but it made his responding quip die on his tongue. He shrugged instead, taking a drink of the iced green tea she'd brought him.
"I'm going to head up. Let me know if anything changes." Audrey leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of Duke's head, smoothing her hands over his ears, getting a lick on the neck in return.
"Duke's not the only one with a favorite." Nathan observed, smiling a little. He meant it jokingly, but Audrey's brows knitting together, and before Nathan could joke it off, she pressed a knee on the seat, pulled herself in the cab, and stretched forward over Duke to kiss his cheek.
"Goodnight Nathan." She said and eased back out the door. Nathan managed a stilted, "Night Parker." before she closed the door, leaving him with a flash of a smile. He stared after her, watching as she crossed the dark lot and started up the steps. She glanced back halfway up, at which he hastily looked down. If he could feel, he'd be tingling.
Duke, who'd also been watching Audrey, turned to him. He sniffed him, puffing little breaths in Nathan's face. Tall ears twitched, tail sweeping the empty passenger seat.
"Alright, stop that. I should've known you'd be obnoxious as a dog too." But the insult lacked heat, and he didn't push him away.
After a small internal debate, Nathan decided to stay on the Cape Rouge for the night.
As he'd settled in on the couch with a stolen beer from the fridge, his phone pinged with a text from Audrey, asking how they were getting along. He told her that they were fine and staying on the boat, that he didn't want dog hair all over his house, and Duke was shedding something awful. That's what he told Audrey anyway. While the second part was true, (he really did loose hair at an alarming rate) the real reason he choose the boat was for Duke's sake, though he'd never willingly admit that. The place, to a dog's sensitive nose, would smell like himself, and his things, and while Duke didn't seem stressed or freaked out by the situation, Nathan figured it wouldn't hurt to bring him some place comfortable. In seemed the right decision, because in the dark familiarity of the rouge, Duke prowled. His black coat hid him in the dark corners and unlit halls, and he went about with a low head and rolling shoulders, relaxed, calm. Comfortable enough in his home that he finally went more than five feet from Nathan, even going so far as to investigate the bedroom. Nathan had the sneaking suspicion he was going to get blamed for the dog hair left behind once Duke wasn't actively leaving it everywhere.
Propping his feet on the short coffee table, knowing very well Duke would give him shit for that, Nathan reclined back on the couch, cradling his phone on his stomach as he texted Audrey. The Gull's occupants tonight were rowdy and loud, and Audrey was having a bitch fit about it, threatening multiple arrests for disturbing the peace. He informed her she probably couldn't actually get away with that, and she replied with middle finger. Nathan huffed a laugh, knowing he was smiling like a fool and glad no one was around to see it.
Movement caught Nathan's eye, and he looked up to see Duke padding over to stand by his legs. Darkly colored at his was, he was all soft edges and shadow in the low light of the room. Apparently satisfied with the state of his boat, Duke put his chin in Nathan's knee, looking at him with eyes he knew as well as his own. Nathan waited, hands in his lap and head tipped back against the couch, but Duke didn't appear inclined to do much else. His ears were up, though not perked, and his tail was still. His breathing was audible, steady and even in the silence. Sighing, his eyes half closed, as if he was going to remain there on his feet, propped on Nathan's leg.
The Chief had expressed his dislike of Duke when they were kids. Always made it clear he didn't approve of the boy staying over at their house. The only way he even got to have sleepovers was because the Chief didn't like fighting with his wife, who saw no good reason that Duke couldn't stay over. Nathan's mom had cared a lot for Duke, knowing far more than nine-year-old Nathan did about why Duke was fidgety and anxious and eager to get away from home all the time. It only lasted so long though, and before they'd hit high school, they'd stopped having sleepovers. The Chief had ended it when a particularly harsh comment about the Crocker boy had resulted in a screaming fight between Nathan and him, Nathan reduced to angry tears before he'd slammed into his bedroom. Duke hadn't even been there that night. The whole thing had started over a stupid joke that Nathan had heard from Duke and told his mom over after dinner popcorn and television.
Some days, more often than not, Nathan convinced himself half his problems with his father had been because of Duke. That Nathan had poor choice in friends growing up, being involved with the resident drunk's troublemaker son and the overzealous Reverend's daughter. But on occasion, and more often recently, Nathan had started to wonder if it was the other way around, if it was his father's fault that he had so many issues with Duke, that things had gotten so bad between them.
He wished he could've hated his dad. It would've made things easier most days, if that persisting hard love wasn't always there. If he didn't have the memories he did, like his dad patiently helping him relearn how to eat after his trouble started the first time, or how he never said anything any time Nathan had showed up in the middle of the night to crawl into bed with him, even the last time when he was fourteen and grieving his mom.
None of it mattered now though, at least not with the Chief. He was in the ground, part of it. Probably turning over there in his grave now, if he in any way knew that his son was here, once again staying the night with "That no good Crocker boy" Wondered if it'd make any difference that Duke was currently on four legs with a fur coat and fluffy tail. Most likely, the Chief would just have found new insults along the lines of mutt or cur.
Nathan realized, with a growing sense of shame and guilt, that his barb about Duke getting hit by a car is exactly something his father would've said.
Setting his phone aside, Nathan sat up and put his feet on the floor. Duke backed up a couple steps, alert and focused on Nathan. With a deep breath, Nathan angled his body towards Duke and held out his hand. He glanced from the offered hand and back to Nathan's face but didn't move. His only response was to huff, and in an oddly similar gesture to raising an eyebrow, laying one ear back.
Swallowing hard, knowing he only had himself to blame for that familiar distrust, Nathan bowed his head slightly and extended his other hand. He spoke quietly.
"C'mere Duke."
For a long second, he didn't move, and Nathan was about to accept the rejection, knowing he deserved it. Then Duke was easing forward, pushing his head first into Nathan's hands, then his arms, stepping between his legs until his head was turned against Nathan's chest. Wrapping his arms around his neck and shoulders, Nathan pressed his face into the thick fur below his ear, closing his eyes. He'd shed his jacket earlier and rolled his sleeves up, and sensation ran up his arms where his skin was uncovered. He could even feel heat bleeding through the material of his button down, the light push each time Duke inhaled, the weight of his body leaning into him.
"I really hope you don't remember this when you're you again." He said, muffled against Duke's fur. It could probably be played off that Nathan was just taking advantage of the opportunity to feel something, which yeah, he might actually be doing a little bit. But it wasn't just that. It was Duke. If it'd been anyone else, Nathan would absolutely not be doing this. He'd die of embarrassment. It was already tense enough anytime he and Parker touched. But Duke..., he'd been the last person Nathan felt until Audrey, and that had been in anger. He'd missed the chance to really change that when he'd gotten untroubled for a day, and he wasn't going to waste it now. If there was anyone Nathan wanted to hug, and be able to feel it, it'd be Duke. And yeah, okay, Audrey too, but he wasn't going to push his luck there. With Duke, there'd be mocking, there'd be jokes, but he'd understand. Nathan may have to kill him if he brings it up in front of Audrey, but she wouldn't judge at least. And Duke wouldn't mind having been used as a living teddy bear. He'd been an affectionate kid when they were young, hugging Nathan whenever he came over, huddling up together on the couch under a blanket to watch Disney movies, constantly bumping shoulders. Held his hand once even, though Nathan hadn't felt it or the bone sticking out of his own arm at the time. No, the touching wouldn't bother Duke.
Still, Nathan sincerely hoped this wouldn't be remembered, especially since Duke was shifting, pulling himself up onto the couch and therefore Nathan's lap. Letting himself be all but shoved back (he really was big as a dog, and heavy) he kicked his boots off real quick because he wasn't listening to Duke grip about dirt on the furniture, and let himself fall backwards. With some maneuvering, he got himself and Duke laid out on the couch, Nathan on his side, sandwiched between the couch back and Duke.
In for a penny, in for pound, Nathan decided, and curled forward, sliding his arms around Duke and hugging him to his chest like the worlds most disgruntled teddy. Duke squirmed a little, making small huffing sounds as he got comfortable, laying on his stomach, paws stretched out in front of himself. Nathan smiled a little, hiding it against the side of Duke's face, one soft ear twitching over his brow. Underneath the distinct scent of fur, he smelled like always did, of salt and rust and the ridiculous incense candles he had scattered around the boat. It was more comforting than Nathan wanted to admit. Because could, now that he knew how much pressure he was applying, Nathan squeezed him lightly, and Duke groaned quietly, the way dogs did when they were settled down and relaxed. In a gesture that would embarrass them both later, Duke lifted his head, leaning away to turn and nose at Nathan's jaw and face, licking his cheek a few times. It was a remarkably sweet gesture, even if Duke wasn't aware of it. It sort of drove home how attentive and trusting he'd been to be at Nathan's side the whole day. Right then, Nathan hated himself for every stupid fight they'd had, hated how things had turned out between them, that he'd let petty school pranks and his father's biased words and his own pride drive a wedge between them. How different his life would've been, if he had Duke had been life long friends rather than what they were now.
Vision a little blurred, blaming it on the overstimulation of the day, Nathan inhaled a shuddering breath and stroked Duke's neck, who licked one more time at his cheek before lowering his head back down on the strip of space between his foreleg and Nathan's face. Nathan held him close, face in his fur.
"I don't hate you." He whispered. Duke's tail thumped on the seat by his shins. "You can be an ass some days, and chose a really terrible career, but I don't hate you. He paused, taking a breath. "I don't think I ever did."
Nathan swallowed, pulling his fingers through the ruff above his shoulders, loose skin sliding under his grip. Duke's ribs expanded and withdrew with even, slow breaths, undisturbed.
A low ringing noise woke Nathan.
It woke him, but the first immediate thing he noticed was warmth and weight. Sometime during the night, they'd shifted, and Duke was laying on top of Nathan, muzzle resting on his neck, nose cool and damp at the bolt of his jaw. Breathing was slightly difficult, but Nathan was enjoying the novelty of it too much to care. Finally, the ringing stopped, leaving blessed silence in its wake. As if in agreement, Duke exhaled heavily, a gust of air in Nathan's ear that made him squirm. He rubbed a dark furred shoulder, closing his eyes and considering enjoying the lazy contact and sleeping for a few more minutes.
Another ring started, muted and oddly distant, but persistent. Nathan groaned, blearily flopping a hand out to the coffee table for his phone and turning to look for it. It wasn't on the table under his jacket like he'd thought, and for a moment Nathan frowned before realizing it was underneath him. He couldn't feel the vibrations, but he'd developed fairly decent sound localization. The problem was getting to the phone. Duke was still mostly asleep and, to reiterate, a heavy bastard, and currently dead weight on top of Nathan.
"Duke. Move." A not entirely awake grumble was his only answer. Rolling his eyes, Nathan pushed himself up as much as he could, bracing his shoulders on the couch arm. Using both arms to steady him and also slow his descent, Nathan grabbed Duke and without ceremony, slid him sideways onto the floor. Duke grunted, fully awake and sitting up, shaking himself. If Nathan needed any reassurance that Duke was still himself in there, the look he leveled at him was it. Nathan grinned.
"Morning to you too." Duke huffed, ears folding back as he shook again and yawned, showing off a set of very white, very long teeth and a black-spotted tongue. Heaving himself forward, Nathan stood to look for his phone, finding it in the crease of the couch, thankfully intact. There were two missed calls from Parker, both in the last eight minutes. The clock showed it was a quarter past six. No wonder Duke was pissed. Nathan sighed, hitting redial. He glanced down at Duke as it rang, found dark eyes gazing at him steadily as he spoke.
"Guess we're starting early today."