Dog City: Dogwood and Catnip
#3 of Dog City
Even between the covers, nothing can stay under wraps forever.
Dog City: Dogwood and Catnip By Tempe O'Kun
Rosie's scent led me from my dreams and into the soft light of morning once again. My fingers dallied in the fur of her back, shirt having ridden up in the night. Her chest fluff swathed my nose. Her body lay entwined with mine, cuddled under the covers.
A dog could get used to this.
I licked under her chin, eliciting a moan.
"My fur's already a disaster, Ace, and you're making it worse."
A gal like Rosie'd look good any time of day. Or night. "I've got the problem licked."
"That's just the problem." She kissed my nose. "Sleep well?"
"You could say I had a rough collie night."
"That's too bad." Gentle paws stroked my ears. "It might happen again tomorrow."
I wagged.
After several minutes getting to know each other's fur, she rolled over and grabbed her police notebook from the nightstand. She cleared her throat, voice all business as she sat propped against a pillow. "We should have Eddie drop off more clothes. We'll run out soon."
My paw traveled up her hip. "Won't hear me complaining."
"What should I put on the list for you?" She put pen to paper. "Shirts? Pants? Nightgown?"
"I got no problem with sleeping naked."
She cocked an ear and quirked a smile. "Maybe you're just easy to please." Those tan paws jotted a few notes.
"Maybe not." Stroking her back, I kissed her.
The collie chuckled into our lip lock, then drew back and played with my whiskers. "Ace Hart, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to get a leg up on me."
"Ya got my word, Rosie: my intentions are honorable."
"There's a first time for everydoggy." A final kiss, then she slipped out of bed, continuing her list of wants. Call me simpleminded, but I could only name one.
~ ~ ~
Collies are a smart breed. And the smarter the dog, the more they're prone to anxiety.
Judging by the number of squeaks coming from the other end of the sofa, Rosie was a genius.
"Why don't ya give the bunny a break, babe?"
Emerald eyes flicked my way, one last squeak escaping as her gnawing slowed. With a sheepish look, the collie lifted her head from the arm of the couch. The plastic rabbit hung in her jaws.
"Easy girl." Scooting closer, I stroked her fur. "Plenty of other police dogs are sinkin' their teeth into this case as we speak."
"I know." She leaned into my petting. "It's just this isn't like the Terrier Terror case, where we could just wait for her to come up for Airedale."
With a nod, I proceded to give her pelt a thorough scratching.
The dame melted like butter, resting her head on my lap. Can't say I was complaining either.
She rubbed her nose into the well-worn fabric of my jacket. "You should think about getting a new trench coat. That one makes your legs look short."
"Really?"
The collie flashed up a coy grin, then sat on her haunches to whisper in my ear. "Maybe I want it so I can wrap myself up in your scent on a cold night."
"Isn't that why you got me?"
A slender paw loosened my tie, toyed with my collar. "So I have you now?"
"I'm not just in this for a hot piece of Lassie."
That earned me a wry look. "But will you come when called?"
"I'd come for you anytime, sweetpaws." I caressed her from scruff to tail.
She leaned against me, muzzle along mine. "I guess you really do have my back."
"Not to mention your front." My paws slipped across her stomach.
"That's sweet of you."
My paw grazed the cold metal of her badge. "Even DC's top cop needs more cover than her shield provides."
Her eyes closed for a quiet moment. "It's lonely at the top."
"You're welcome on top of me anytime. I promise to be good company."
A sultry glint lit those green eyes as she took me up on the invitation. "Some guys don't like a gal who takes charge."
"I always get a charge outta you." My paws drifted to her tail, easing her hips to mine.
Her paws unlooped my tie, tugging it from my collar with a whisper of cotton. "Another from your battery of wisecracks?"
"Ya never seem to mind a few volleys back and forth."
"Mmmm...I'd be a fool not to enjoy a little back and forth with you." Her hips rocked over my crotch.
I rolled my eyes, panting a little. "Guess we're livin' in a city of fools."
"A college professor told me the greater part of the law is learning to tolerate fools." Her heat soaked through to my tingling sheath. "Maybe I should write the foolish masses a thank-you. For leaving you for me."
My tip rode against my boxers as she rode me. "I could think of better uses for your time than thankin' fools."
"Mmmmmm." Her breathing got heavier, more urgent, as did the pressure on my hips. "What do you say we find some?"
I whined with a grin. "Fools or uses?"
"I've got the only fool I need." She scritched me behind the ears.
My leg shook, sending little quivers up my body into hers. Her blue plastic bunny fell off the sofa with a squeak. "You sure know how to get a guy waggin', sweetpaws."
Her silky paws worked down the buttons of my shirt. "What do ya say we head back to the bedroom for more..." Her fingertips danced through my chest fur. "...heavy petting?"
I panted and squeezed her backside. My exposed cock strained against the inside of my shorts, aching against the heat between her legs. "Sounds good to me."
She got off me and we dog-legged it back to the bed. Clothes flew in every direction, loosed like water after a good shake. Nervous giggles, passioned panting, and the swish of ardent wags: these sounds flooded the small room. Rosie's tongue swirled around my mouth as she toyed with the front of my boxers. I tried to puzzle out her bra, but I was all dew claws. Rosie threw me a bone, easing behind her back to unclasp it.
The bra dropped to the floor along with my jaw. She stood before me, a vision of canine beauty. The long, flowing fur of her chest draped down against her breasts. Tentative, I reached up and took two ample pawfuls. The collie moaned, whispering all sorts of pleasant pleading in my ear.
We tumbled into the bed, paws eager to get in each other's fur, when--
A voice outside the bedroom door: "Ace? Rosie?"
Rosie and I glanced to each other, then the door. "Eddie."
"Hey guys? No doggy answered when I knocked." The doorknob turned. "So I snuck in through the window and--"
I jumped off her and held my weight against the door. "Uhh, kiddo, give us just one minute before opening this door."
The wet-nosed newspup pushed against the door. "Rosie's in there too?"
I flailed into my trench coat, the only thing in reach besides a stray sock. "Yeah, we were, uhh..." Had to think of something boring and adult. "...doing our taxes."
"Oh." He stopped pushing on the door.
"Ace, button up and let the kid in. I've got our assets covered."
My eyes flicked back to find Rosie in pants and a beige top. Her hair had gone more feral than usual, but she looked just fine to me.
With a growl of acceptance, I made myself decent and opened the door.
The kid eyed us as we emerged. "Bow-wow! You guys weren't kidding about needing more clothes."
I trotted across the floor on bare paws, sitting and staying delicately so as not to display my delicates. "It's a good thing we have you to play retriever, kid. Did you get everything on the list?"
"Yep!" The pup had wised up, bringing today's haul in a backpack instead of a paper sack. He dug out several rumpled articles of clothing. "Here you go, Ace--"
I caught the button-up as he tossed it my way. "Never thought I'd be so happy to see a clean shirt."
"--and I saved you Friday's edition--" How Eddie managed to grip newspapers, or anything, with sleeves draped over his paws eluded even my investigative prowess.
Rosie unfurled the broadsheets and her ears flagged. "Look at this: 'Mobsters Turn Big Cheese's Office into Swiss!'" The lead story showed her bullet-riddled office. "It's all over the papers."
I grabbed my hat from the sofa and put it on, feeling less naked. "Well, better there than..."
The kid continued like neither of us had even spoken. "--and one doggy bag from the Great Ball of China."
Rosie crossed her arms and looked my way. "I didn't have that on my list."
I winked. "So I gave the kid a call while you were in the shower..."
"Rosie, you should really wear a bra, even around the house." Eddie piped up in his helpful way, too-long sleeves swinging. "It's a well-known fact that a lack of proper undergarments can lead to lower back problems in girl dogs with your figure."
The pup was right: instead of staring at her lower back, I found I couldn't take my eyes off her upper front. A figure like that made a dog want to chase his own tail. "Sorry, Chief, what were you saying?"
"I was just saying how Eddie forgot that medium kibble pizza we wanted." Her ear twitched me a covert message.
I nodded, grinning. "Yeah kiddo, we've been here for 72 hours with nothin' but chow, and ya forgot the pizza?"
The newspup glanced between us with incredulity. "You want Pekinese takeout and pizza?"
"For breakfast." I elbowed him in the ribs.
"Oh. Sorry, Ace." Understanding dawned across his muzzle. "I'll go get that right now."
"Eh. We've put ya through enough trouble tonight." I shelled out cash, a few bones more than needed. "Maybe tomorrow?"
"Sure..." He gave us a look of baloney on wry. Pocketed the money, though.
The collie and I shooed him out the door before he could reconsider. Rosie watched through the window as Eddie's form vanished into the stretching shadows.
The collie ducked into the bedroom and returned with fresh clothes. I took her state of dress as a signal to cool my jets. Looking to redress the balance of nudity, I put on pants. Then I hefted one of the white paper boxes of Pekinese cuisine. "Well, look what the pup dragged in."
Rosie's ears rose. "The mob's trying to take me out, and you order takeout?"
"Figured ya might be tired of dry kibble."
She sniffed the paperboard pail. "General Chow's chicken?" A pair of chopsticks twirled from the bag, splitting apart and settling between her digits. She used her free paw to open the box. "You did your homework."
I shrugged off a smile. "Sweet and spicy seems to be your style." Leaning against the wall, I fumbled at getting the chopsticks apart.
She, of course, could pick up a grain of rice at a time.
"Ya handle those pretty well."
"Flattery, Ace?"
"Jealousy. I normally just shove my whole face in the box."
"Here." Her paws covered my own. "Hold them like this."
Playing it cool, I let her take the situation in paw.
Using my large, clumsy fingers, she still managed to grasp several chunks of veggies and chicken. She placed it on my tongue with a saucy look. "See? It's easy. Now you try it."
After a few attempts, I skewered a hunk of meat and lifted it to her lips.
She accepted and smiled. Somehow managed to chew in a graceful manner. Her paw toyed with the buttons of my trench coat. "Is this supposed to be romantic, Ace?"
I gave her a suave look around a hunk of broccoli. "Romance is for saps."
"Seems you're more than a little sappy, Shamus."
"You know I've been pinin' for you."
"Pine?" She edged close, setting the takeout on an endtable. "Or just dogwood?"
"Maybe a cross of the two." I set mine down and rubbed noses. The scent of exotic spices lingered on her fur. "A mutt, like yours truly."
Dainty paws stroked my sides. "Sometime you'll have to show me a little of that hybrid vigor."
"No time like the present." My hips pressed to hers.
"Mmmmm." She raised a leg, pressing the tent in my pants against her most delicate regions. "Feels like I might have a present to unwrap."
"You're a heck of a dog, Rosie." My paw lifted her muzzle level with mine. Those jade eyes shone in the streetlight. Our lips met, warm and wonderful...
And a massive crash came from the back yard.
"What the howl was that?!" I kept my voice at a whisper, Rosie's arms tight around me.
We padded over to the window, lifting the shade. A dark figure lay rolling in the yard, having kicked over the trash can.
"What on Arf is that cat doing?"
"Rolling in the weeds?" I reached for the doorknob.
"Ace." Her paw stopped me. "Smell that?" She sniffed. "Those plants are nepeta cataria: catnip."
I cursed whatever cosmic cartoonist had come up with this dog-blocking calico. "Sure, but ya can get the pure stuff at any street corner. Why bother--?"
A voice from outside: "Whiskers! Get out of there before ya blow the whole hit!"
Doggone it.
Hitmutts weren't coming for Rosie. Hitcats were.
And they were through pussyfooting around.
"Forget him! They've seen us!" A musclebound feline charged from the darkness, metal gleaming in his paws.
The collie rolled over against the wall. I ducked behind the table.
Glass shattered. The muzzle of a Tommy gun smashed through what remained of the window. Beefy feline paws trembled as a hail of bullets shredded the fridge. The tabby cackled as he sprayed Tommy gun fire like a territorial tomcat. The defending roar beat ringing into my ears.
Rosie grabbed the drum of the machine gun, yanking it down. The owner yowled in pain as she smashed his digits against the window sill. The weapon tumbled to her feet.
I grabbed her by the arm ready to make a run for it, but she shrugged free. Angling the gun out the window, she mowed down the weeds of the backyard.
Muzzle flare flashed across her grim expression, casings scattering like ticks in a flea bath. Our fine feline friends took cover from this sudden onslaught. Rosie continued her rampage against the ungroomed lawn for about a second longer, then--
Cl-click.
I knew that noise. It'd saved my life more than once.
She dropped the empty gun.
I grabbed her by the shirt, hauling her back through the living room. I caught a glimpse of the damage, which had dug up the lawn, but left the cats with tails raised. "You missed?! They were ten feet in front of you!"
She jumped over the sofa with me. "You think catnip was growing there by accident?"
Then I smelled it: nepetalactone. She'd pulverized the catnip in the hope of nipping our cat problem in the bud. Judging by the purring behind us, I figured it'd worked.
We scurried around the corner. I unlocked the front door only to have sharp claws slice the front of my coat. I growled and gave the Persian a flatter face than he came with. I was about to make a break for it when Rosie yanked me back.
Good thing, too. Two more cats ducked out of a car they'd curbed outside, leaving their long-haired wheelman in the driver's seat.
"There are more of them out there, Ace." She slammed the door as newspapers shattered the windows. They'd broken out the heavy artillery: Sunday editions. The chief barked: "This way!" Her sleek paw yanked the attic stairs down from the ceiling. She dashed up them like a Dachshund after a frankfurter.
"Are you crazy?" I charged up the stairs after her. "They'll be in here any minute!"
Those pointy little teeth glinted from her grin. "I'm counting on it."
We clambered into the attic, dust billowing thick in the air. I coughed. Then I slammed the trapdoor as quietly as possible. "We're cut off from the garage. What's our exit?"
The yowling below me got loud.
The pretty collie swung the attic window open. A thick tangle of branches greeted us. "You ever see a cat climb down a tree, Shamus?"
I thought for an instant, as the cats batted at the door beneath my feet. "No."
"Neither have I." She cocked an ear. Then she jumped out the window, clawing her way onto a heavy branch.
In for a puppy, in for a hound--I followed her.
I like a good squirrel chase as much as the next dog, but scrambling from branch to branch after her reminded me why I conducted them from the ground. Rosie fared little better, her blouse ripped down one arm, but we managed to land on their car roof without breaking a dogleg.
From the driver's seat, the bobtail slashed at us with his claws, but I manhandled the Manx from the car and Rosie slugged him. The cat crumpled to the pavement.
Our pursuers yowled catcalls from the tree, but Rosie dove into the backseat as I slammed paw to pedal. With a squeal that put beagles to shame, the tires peeled out and we tore off into the night. I managed to curb a wheel hard on our way out of the 'burbs, knocking the glove box open. Parking tickets, some blueprints, and a couple empty cans of tuna spilled onto the floor.
Much as it pained me to hightail it without the Hudson, I knew we'd made the right call. I made a beeline for the highway.
My collie passenger popped up from the backseat, gorgeous even covered in candy wrappers. "Ace, if you wanted me in your backseat again, all you had to do was ask."
"I've always been a direct kinda guy." Adrenaline and night chilled my blood. Groping into the pocket of my coat. I tapped a strip of rawhide from the pack, gnawing it to steady my nerves. "That was a pretty slick exit, Rosie."
She picked a crumpled wrapper from her fur. "Thanks. I sat around the last few days thinking about what to do if Eddie was tailed."
"Afraid my mind was on a different tail."
Her arms crossed. "Ace Hart, you're a real piece of work."
"Hold your applause until the end, sweetfleas..." I adjusted the mirror to look at her. "'Cause I just cracked the Cocoa Kibble Caper."
"Is that so?" She glance out the back window, making sure we weren't followed.
I swung the old jalopy onto the turnpike. "Our pals back there perpetrated the pooch-poisoning."
"You got any evidence to back that up, Shamus, or am I supposed to believe you because you've got an honest muzzle?"
"Good to know at least one part of me's honest."
"I can think of another, but let's cut to the chase." One steady paw gripped my shoulder.
"Think about it: who'd have a vested interest in seein' you put down? Previous case? For revenge, maybe, but why be this reckless? They could take their time."
"How reassuring."
"Can't be a future case: even I'm not good enough to say who that'd be."
"Someone's trying to stop an open investigation." Her paw squeezed my shoulder. "The dog food contaminations!"
"You got it. What better way to get the upper paw on a canine crime syndicate than chocolating their chow?"
"I'm still waiting for that evidence, Ace."
"Right under your nose. Or, more precisely, under your feet."
She glanced down. "Chocolate wrappers. But how do we know they don't just have a sweet tooth?"
"See those floor plans on the floor?" I pointed to where my quarry had fallen from the glove box. My tail wagged against the worn seat, knowing I had this case in the doggy bag. "I'd bet my squeaky toy they're for a local kibble factory and that blueprint has enough prints to leave our feline friends singin' the blues."
Her paw left my shoulder. "My dog! We have to get back to the station right away."
"Don't we have time for, maybe, a little celebration?"
Her green eyes gave me a look that should have frosted over the rear-view mirror. "Drive, Shamus."
I gnawed harder on my rawhide, fighting the feeling I'd just been tossed aside like last week's chewy.
Edits: Darkdragon452, Sillyneko345, Slate, Vendetta, Thefunkyone, Anakuro
Art: :iconSlatedragon:
Let me know if you like it.
~Tempo