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Paul was nearly thirteen hours into the fourteen-hour journey that took him from Wyoming to Los Angeles. His energy stores were running on the fumes of the last energy drink he'd downed, the spent can lying on the passenger side floorboard amongst a few others. Doc's gonna have my ass, he thought, chuckling to himself and pulled into a gas station just inside of Barstow.

A thirty-six gallon fuel tank didn't exactly fill up quickly, so the bear leaned against the tailgate, watching the traffic against the backdrop of the setting sun. He wondered what Reid was doing. Or Vance. Or any of the guys he'd come to know and love over the years, but more than anyone, he thought about Terri. He would drive past his house and see if the RV was there, but in the back of his mind, he knew that it wasn't. She'd always wanted to go cross-country in that thing... Click. He topped her off. Tapped the nozzle on the edge of the receptacle so as not to drip any down the side of his truck. Took his receipt and took off for the coast.

Nightfall found him on a cheap motel bed, mindlessly channel surfing while he attempted to tune out for long enough to sleep. It wasn't something he did much of anymore, and it was beginning to show in the way he looked at things. Bags under his eyes drooped with the weight of stress, worry, and old age. His hair had thinned further in the past several months, and so had his waistline. He chose to view wearing clothes he hadn't been able to wear in years as the silver lining to the black cloud that had encompassed his soulless existence.

Just outside Los Angeles, the phone rang at Rotgut Rob's. The old Alsatian picked it up and brought it to his ear, answering it in his toothless, characteristically incomprehensible drawl.

"Put Dallas on the line."

Back at the outskirts of town, Rob turned around and looked down the bar to see a usual sight, the leader of the outlaw motorcycle club that kept him in business carousing and laughing with his fellow bikers. He put the phone back to his ear.

"Hang on..." He placed the receiver down on a dry spot on the bar and hobbled down to the end where the cougar was sitting, enjoying a tall, frosty mug of cheap domestic. "Phone's for you."

Dallas looked up, confused. He blinked a few times, and then shook his head, got up, and walked down to the end of the bar where the phone was. Rob pulled the cradle and the receiver over to the bar and handed it to the cougar, who eyed it suspiciously.

"Hello?"

"Dallas. How you doin'?"

He sneered at the phone, "Who's this?"

"Who do you think?"

"...Paul? Is that you?"

"Sure is."

"Well," The cat laughed, "I'll be damned. To what do I owe the pleasure of your phone call this evening?"

"Don't get cute with me wise-ass; you know damn well what I'm calling about!"

"I'm certain I don't. Give me a hint." Dallas replied coolly, toying with the old bear. Paul felt his blood pressure spike and his temple throbbed.

"Okay! My son was found hanging from the rafters in his garage; you got anything to say about that?"

"Oh, Paul..." Dallas cooed, his saccharine, southern voice resonating with empathy and compassion, "I'm sure sorry to hear that. I know exactly how it feels to lose your son." He added, his voice turning cold towards the end.

"You think I don't know you had something to do with it? 'You take from me, I take from you'?" Paul quoted the cougar's line from months ago.

"Paul, I know it must be hard losing your son to suicide. It's a terrible thing, but I'm telling you, I had nothing to do with that! Here's an idea, why don't we just settle up right now? You tell me who killed John, and we'll call it square. How about it?"

"It was me! It was me, you son of a bitch, I did it!" Paul shouted into the motel phone, sweaty and shaking. Dallas began to chuckle at him on the other end of the line, and the bear dove into his bag, pulled out a bottle of Aspirin and popped one, "I did it."

"You always were an honorable man, Paul." Dallas said at last, "Others before self. Not willing to sell out another man to save your own pelt. I respect that. But I know when you're lying to me."

"This is between you and I. It will stay between you and I, and it will end with you and I. I'll see to that. Have a nice night." Paul hung up. Dallas pulled the phone away from his head and looked at it, then casually dropped it back onto the cradle and headed back to his beer, looking none too pleased.

"I don't know what went on just then, but keep it outta my bar." Rob lectured. Dallas waved a hand.

"Yeah, yeah."

***

Reid poured some coffee into a to-go cup, following it up with no small amount of sugar and creamer before snapping on the lid and gingerly taking a sip.

"Hey! How'd your date go last night?" Reid turned around to see Vance walking in, grabbing a cup.

"It didn't."

"No?" The pit bull asked curiously and poured himself a steaming mug of coffee, leaving it unmolested by cream and sugar, just the way he liked it, "What happened?"

"I was just getting ready to go, and then I get a phone call. Kid started getting sick and she had to take her to the hospital."

"Oh no, is she all right?"

"Yeah, I think so. Erin called me around five this morning, said it was just a stomach bug. They got her on some medicine to keep the nausea from flaring up. Anyway, I just ended up going to the gym." Reid lied and sipped at his coffee. He hadn't gone anywhere. He had shed those clothes as if they were on fire and masturbated while fantasizing about a wolf he'd met that day. It made him wonder if he really needed to be going out on a date with a lady to begin with, but that wasn't the kind of thing he talked about at the shop.

"Well, you can always reschedule, I'm sure."

"Yeah."

"We got anything new to work on today?"

"Not really, no. You know how it is, gas prices are up and people aren't really making any big modifications to their cars right now. Other than the four-bangers, I guess." Reid took another sip, "Much more of this and we're going to have to open up a car wash to stay in business. We can get you out there in a Speedo; pour some soapy water all over you..."

"Yeah, not a chance. You think our clients want to see me in something like that?"

"I'd sure like to." Reid muttered into his coffee.

"What?"

"Hm?"

"Jackass." Vance chuckled and shook his head. Reid's shoulders bounced as he laughed. He sighed. Payroll needed doing, and the phone rang with the first vendor of the day asking for Reid by name - 'accounts payable'.

Clerical work wasn't something Reid enjoyed doing. He'd long since wanted to hire a bookkeeper for the shop, but the money just wasn't there. So he picked up the slack, not willing to wish that work on his worst enemy. He'd even taken to wearing reading glasses, an unwelcome byproduct of his late thirties, and to rub it in, everyone else liked to pop their head into the office just to watch him look up over the tops of them like an old man. He'd learned to take it in stride, just like everything else. Still, he wished something interesting would occur.

"Hey Reid." Lucy bounded into the office and took a seat in one of the chairs across the desk from him. He pulled his glasses off and grinned at his daughter.

"What's up?"

"I wanted to ask you about vacation time."

"When do you need it?"

"Well, we don't exactly know yet. We still have to figure out where we're going and when, but that was just something we never really went over when I first came on board."

"Who's 'we'?"

"Me and Rigo."

"Ah, okay. Well, I can't afford to give you paid vacation time right now. We just don't have the money at the moment, but if you need time off, I'm sure we can manage. I mean, as you can see we've got _so_much to work on right now." He rolled his eyes.

"Hah, yeah, I know, right?"

"Just give me some advance notice before you go, okay?"

"Sure will, thanks Reid!"

"Of course." He smiled. She stood up and bounced out of the office with the spring in her step that happy, well-adjusted teenage girls normally have. So what was her deal? The cattle dog stared down at the desk and decided that the vendors could wait. He sat back in the chair and cast his eyes up to the ceiling. A vacation sounded awfully nice. Even if it was just a weekend getaway.

"A weekend getaway..." He mouthed, chewing thoughtfully on the inside of his cheek.

***

Paul rolled into his driveway with the casualness of someone who was simply returning from an honest day's work. Tired, he stepped out of his truck, having left sixty pounds in Wyoming. He was dirty and disheveled, not even having bothered to shower at the motel in Barstow. He went to open the back door of his truck, but was stopped short by his neighbor.

"Paul?"

"Hello, Rich."

"Jesus Paul, where the hell have you been?"

"Wyoming."

"They don't have food in Wyoming or something?" The badger laughed, puffing on a cigar while he fertilized his lawn, "You look good."

"Thanks, Rich."

"How's Terri?"

"I dunno."

The badger stared. Paul pulled a long, locked case out of the backseat of his truck and set it down on the concrete with a heavy thud. Shutting the door, he picked it up and hauled it inside without another word. He would sit beneath the parlor light above his kitchen table, cleaning his M40A1 to inspection readiness until nightfall.

Paul sat in his garage with a beer that night, reloading fire-formed brass cases with bullets he'd bought (with cash) at an ammunition shop in Nevada on his way back. 165-grain Hornady SST's, to be exact. Working as diligently and meticulously as he did for years with cars, the old bear brushed out and cleaned the spent shell casings, checking the necks for any cracks. Primers were inserted. Powder was carefully measured and deposited into the case. Paul placed the bullet in the loader and pulled the lever like a slot machine. In one fluid motion, the bullet was seated into the case neck, which was then crimped shut around it. It was a tedious and repetitive process, but it kept his mind where it needed to be. Forty cases later, he had two translucent blue plastic boxes full of precision-loaded, match grade ammunition.

He cleaned and oiled his press, then placed the ammunition inside the house. He backed his truck into the garage and climbed into the backseat, where he lowered them to the downward position, exposing the rear cab wall. Using a handheld circular saw, he cut through the cab of the truck, removing a rectangle about five by eight inches in size. Then, utilizing screws and a door hinge plate, he reattached it to the truck, allowing it to open inward, like a one way doggy door. With the tailgate lowered, he could peer through the hatch out as far as the eye could see.

Paul surmised he'd actually get some sleep that night, a rare treat when his mind and body allowed for it. Sweating, he used a table saw to cut a sheet of plywood into several sections that spanned the height of the bed, and extended towards the middle just enough to leave a six-inch gap between them. The bed cover was replaced over the top of these, creating a crude baffle system not unlike the kind found inside a silencer. He wasn't sure that it would work, but if it muffled enough of the report to let him slip away unnoticed, that was all it needed to do.

His work was done. But it was only the beginning, and there was plenty still to do. A hot shower relieved him of the smells of a long day's travels, and a hot dinner - the best he'd had in months - filled his belly with sustenance. Hunger quelled, he retreated to the living room where he produced an old photo album from a cabinet, then reclined in his chair to recollect the good times of times long gone.

There was the 1980 trip to Disneyland. Paul and Terri held hands with then five year-old Randal. He smiled. That was back in the days when he had a full, thick head of hair. There were the pictures from Terri's 40th birthday, and her smile when she opened a card that read 'Happy 30th'. Randal's high school and college graduation. Trips out to the property in Wyoming. Vacations in Miami Beach. Paul standing in front of the newly opened Doghouse Performance Engineering in 1989 with his old 1970 Dodge Charger R/T. Randal had totaled that car. He spent the better part of an hour going through those pictures, reminiscing and smiling for the first time in months.

"I had a great life." He mused quietly to himself, if only to break the pervasive silence in the room as he closed the photo album, "Too bad it ended before I did."

***

Far back as Reid could remember, Paul had always stressed the necessity of a tight-knit staff for the efficiency of shop operations. Reid had seen several team members come and go, but for all of the bad seeds that had come through over the years, the shop veterans like Hector and Vance kept things feeling like family around Doghouse, and that was just the way the cattle dog liked it. So he decided that he would begin a new tradition - one he hoped would persist for years to come.

It was only after a week's worth of clerical monotony that Reid decided that a weekend getaway at the beach was in the cards for not only him, but everyone that worked there and their families too. It was the middle of December, and hardly fit for a weekend in the water, but it was still sunny and a mild seventy degrees, so he went out and bought a grill, and some charcoal, and some meat. He filled an ice chest with drinks and ice, loaded it all up in his old pickup truck, and headed out to the coast where he joined everyone else who had been invited.

"Hey Vance, help me with the grill here." They unloaded the large BBQ pit from the back of the truck right there on the beach and loaded it down with charcoal. Vance was there with Blaine, who was looking rounder every time Reid saw her. Hector and his girlfriend were there, as well as Chris and Frank, who were going stag in the interest of checking out girls on the beach. Lucy was present, and Rigo was en route from work. Xavier was on his way, and Erin and Amber had been invited as well. They were early yet, but they'd planned for that so that the food would be ready when their guests arrived on scene.

"So, I just want to say something right quick..." Reid started, standing in front of the BBQ pit and addressing everyone, "In the last few months we've begun a push into a new generation for our shop. All of you, well, most of you have been around for a while, at least long enough to remember when Paul was running the show. We've always been tight-knit, and I want that to continue. I want to make sure that everyone here knows that they're appreciated, I value each and every one of you guys and I hope that you'll continue to be here for years to come. I'm bad at these kinds of things, but I think you get the gist of it, right?"

Everyone laughed and agreed and applauded while Reid moved away from the BBQ pit, claiming that the fire was making his butt too hot. A beach fire was lit, and a volleyball game was started while the coals were burning, and the heeler learned that day just how competitive his daughter could be. Lucy dug into the sand, breaking into a sprint for the ball as it came over, nearly getting a face full of sand as she managed to get it back over the net just in time before it landed on the beach. She reveled in the resultant victory from the winning point and jumped up and down a few times before throwing her arms around Reid, hugging her teammate while Frank called for best two-out-of-three.

"Hey, good work Lucy." Reid said, feeling like the encouraging dad at a Little League game. It was then that he realized that this was the first time he had ever hugged his daughter. He'd cradled her in his arms many times in her infancy, but never before had he felt her arms around him. He hugged her back, and found himself not wanting to let go. He looked back towards the parking lot to see a black Cadillac pulling up.

"I think Rigo is here." He mentioned, and Lucy turned to see the wolf stepping out of the car. He pulled off his shoes and socks, and tossed them into the floorboard of the car before rolling his heavyweight denim jeans halfway up to his knees. He peeled off his shirt and tossed it into the seat, then shut the door and turned to head towards them.

"Rigo!"

"Hey babe!" He embraced her as he approached the group, giving her a quick hug and a kiss before changing course for Reid, who he extended a hand towards, "Hey buddy. Thanks for the invite!" Blushing behind his fur, Reid shook hands with the younger man. He didn't know how old Rigo was, but he guessed he was about twenty-four or twenty-five at the oldest. He was definitely in his prime, with well-manicured fur lying flat over hard muscle, his chiseled abs and pecs visible beneath the soft fur. A bone, shark tooth necklace hung around his neck, and speaking of teeth, his were as white as the day was long.

"Hey, no problem, man. Any friend of Lucy's is a friend of mine."

"Right on. Hey, I didn't know if you wanted me to bring anything, so I picked up some sodas and some hot dogs, you want me to just toss them in the cooler over there?"

"Sure, yeah." He smiled. How did you know I don't drink alcohol?

Reid watched Rigo out of the corner of his eye, thanking his sunglasses for concealing what he was really looking at. It made it seem more as if he was watching his brother walk up to them in a pair of olive drab green shorts emblazoned with 'USMC', like everything else the man owned.

"Xavier, hey!" Reid clapped him on the back and they play-fought for a few punches before the older dog decided it was time to put the meat on the grill. "There's beer and soda in the cooler over there, and I'm about to throw some dogs and burgers on the grill here."

"Right on. What's up man?" Xavier greeted Hector, and they shook hands and hugged like old friends, only having first met at the party they'd held at DPE following Reid's new position as owner. It brought a tear to the heeler's eye, seeing how many people he had to be thankful for in life. It was then that he became painfully unaware of the absence of his watch, but who wears an Omega to the beach? He dismissed the thought, only to look up and see Erin and Amber walking up, hand in hand. She waved to him, and he waved back, smiling while he tossed some hot dogs onto the grill.

"Hey you." Reid said, hugging Erin. He knelt down and hugged Amber as well; whom he noticed was beginning to grow some hair back, "Hey there, pretty girl. You ready to have some fun today?"

"Yeah!"

"All right! I hope you guys are hungry; we've got plenty of food to go through here."

"Definitely." Erin smiled, looking over at the group where Xavier, Rigo, Hector, and Vance were playing horseshoes. Lucy came over and introduced herself to Amber, and offered to build a sandcastle with her.

"You know, this is the first time she's been to the beach since she was diagnosed." Erin explained, watching while Reid turned the hot dogs on the grill.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. We used to go all the time. Her father was in the Marines, so we lived down in San Diego." She started, and the dog found himself hoping that Erin was not a widow, "We got divorced, I moved up here, and then about a year later he was on a helicopter that was shot down in eastern Afghanistan. None of them survived."

"Oh, no. I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yeah, those were tough times. It's been hard, but we're making it." She smiled, watching while Amber and Lucy scooped sand up into buildings and Hector and Vance celebrated a win at horseshoes.

"It's all you can do sometimes." Reid said, turning the hot dogs again. Erin dipped into the cooler and pulled out two beers, handing one to Reid, who politely declined.

"Ah, no thanks, I don't drink."

"Oh." She placed one of them back and produced a Coca-Cola, handing it to him, only then noticing a prominent scar on his right side were no fur grew. He thanked her and opened it, taking a swig while she twisted the cap off of her bottle. "Who's the Marine over there in the shorts?"

"That's Xavier, my younger brother. He's a Gunnery Sergeant down at Camp Pendleton. I raised him." He declared proudly with a wink. Erin chuckled.

"You strike me as a guy with an interesting past."

"I think everyone's got one. If you don't have at least one good story, you're not living life to the fullest."

"I'll drink to that." Erin said, and clinked her bottle against the Coke can, upending it and taking a small drink. "Hey, is that girl over there pregnant?"

"Who?" Reid turned to see Blaine taking a turn at horseshoes. "Oh yeah, that's Blaine, Vance's wife. She's about...four months along now?"

"Oh okay, I just wanted to make sure, I didn't want to go asking her about it and have her turn out not to be pregnant." She laughed, and the cattle dog joined in.

"No, that wouldn't be good, would it? I think these are about done." Reid opened a package of buns and Erin helped herself to one while Reid picked up a hot dog with a pair of tongs and placed it inside for her. Food was the main attraction apparently, as everyone congregated around the grill, passing around bottles of ketchup and mustard. Rigo offered to tend the grill for a bit while Reid helped himself to some chow. Erin and Blaine struck up a conversation about mommy things, and Xavier entertained some of the guys with some stories from his multiple deployments. Reid and Rigo conversed over the grill, and the cattle dog thanked his mirrored lenses for hiding his eyes as they wandered.

"So how did you and Lucy meet?"

"Well, we first met over there at Cedars-Sinai in the Emergency Room." Rigo started, and Reid felt his stomach drop with anxiety, "She came in with Vance over there, and a friend of theirs who I learned was the bass player for their band. Lucy had had quite a bit more to drink than she could really handle, and..." Rigo laughed, "She actually ended up throwing up all over me. We got her on some activated charcoal and pumped her, she was fine. She hasn't touched alcohol since."

"Wow." Reid said, laying a hand over his scar.

"I learned that she was a drummer in a band, and I went to see one of her shows one time. They were playing at a little hole-in-the-wall joint in Costa Mesa, and after it was over, we went out to Denny's and ate, and after that, we've just been inseparable. She's a really, really amazing girl, you know?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I can tell." The dog nodded in response, taking another bite while his heart raced. He could just make out where the wolf's junk was in those jeans, thinking obscene thoughts as he stuffed the end of the hotdog into his muzzle.

"So we've been dating about a year now. It's been really good, you know. I'm really thinking she could be the one."

"That's a good feeling." Reid concurred.

"How about you, you ever been married?"

"Once upon a time."

"Oh, all right. Any advice for a young guy like me?" He asked, smiling.

"How old are you, anyway?"

"Twenty-four. I'll be twenty-five in January."

"Okay, cool. I just turned thirty-seven this year." Reid laughed, "Getting old, man. It's for the birds."

"That's what I hear. But you know, for almost forty you seem to be in really good shape." Rigo noted, gesturing up and down the older canine's torso with the spatula.

"I haven't always been. I've got an aftermarket liver." He joked, brushing his fur away from the scar so Rigo could see.

"Oh, man. Transplant?"

"Yeah."

"What was the condition, if you don't mind my asking?"

Beat.

"Alcoholic liver disease." Reid said, not sure how the wolf would respond to that, or how he would expect him to.

"I see. Well, I'm glad that you were able to get one as quickly as you did. I've seen conditions like that claim a lot of lives in my line of work. Mostly in older people, really. Sorry if I brought up any bad memories or anything."

"No, no, it's fine." Reid insisted. Just let me get in those jeans and we'll call it even. "So where are you from?"

"I was born in Sacramento. Came here when I was eighteen to go to UCLA Medical. You?"

"Deer Park, Texas. Came here when I was twenty. Had to get away from everything that was going on out there." He said pensively, watching as Lucy and Amber laughed at a wave that knocked down a flimsy sandcastle they'd built.

"I hear that. I hated Sacramento. Hated living there with my family, my Dad was awful. I don't know how I managed to grow up without turning into him. Always promised myself that when I got married, I would be a much better husband to my wife than he was to my Mom."

"That's good." Reid said, finishing his hotdog. "Good way to be."

A few hours later, the afternoon was drawing to a close, and the sun was beginning to sink behind the backdrop of the Pacific, shimmering brilliantly across the waters on the horizon. They'd built the fire up even larger, and they capped off the night by sitting around it, telling stories and jokes, and listening to Vance fake 'Kumbayah' on an acoustic guitar, quite hilariously at that. Reid sat on the sand, smiling while he listened to the music and the laughter. Erin was engrossed in a conversation with Xavier, and Hector and his girlfriend, as well as Rigo and Lucy, were cuddled up together in front of the glow of the fire. Blaine rested her head on Vance's shoulder. Amber walked over and plopped down next to Reid, who smiled at her.

He wondered what the near future held in store for him. Forty was creeping up on him, and he was now well-enough established in life that he could search for a mate. Who that would be, he had no idea. For the moment, he figured, he would wait. Good things came to those who did.

He hoped for that much, at least.

***

Rigo and Lucy lay intertwined between the sheets in their bedroom in their upscale apartment, afforded entirely by the wolf's sizeable paycheck. A fan kept it nice and cool in the room, just the way they liked it. Silently, interspersed with moans, their muzzles mated, and their tongues slid past each others', their lips smacking gently with each tender kiss that they shared.

"I love you..." He whispered in her ear, planting kisses on the sensitive auricle and down her cheek until he'd reached her mouth again.

"I love you too." She affirmed, pulling him closer to her and nuzzling into his neck, relishing in his scent, which was since earlier that day combined with the salty air of the West Coast.

Rigo bit his lip gently and reached down underneath the sheets, where he pulled off his underwear, the only garment he'd been wearing. He kicked them off out from the other side of the sheets and resumed kissing her. His hands began to wander innocently enough, eventually finding their way to her breasts, massaging them gently before reaching around to unclip her bra. Lucy shrugged it off and it was tossed to the floor. She bit her lip nervously as she lifted her hips just enough to allow him to slide her panties off, and he tossed them to the floor.

While there was something she loved about the feeling of vulnerability underneath her boyfriend, sex was always a tender subject for Lucy Sanchez. Rigo reached into a drawer on his nightstand and removed a box of condoms marked 'Magnum XL', tearing one gold package off from the strip. He opened it, and rolled the thin, latex tube down the length of his impressive shaft, making sure it was on properly before grabbing the lube. Lucy watched nervously while he turned the bottle up, streaming the cool liquid down onto his erection, which he then began to stroke for complete coverage. Once adequately slick, he assumed a position on top of Lucy with the very tip of his member at her entrance.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm okay."

"Okay." He said, and started to push gently, but Lucy closed her legs, disallowing him entry inside her out of reflex.

"I'm sorry!" She whined, laying her ears back flat against her head.

"No, no, it's all right. Are you sure you want to do this? We don't have to."

"Maybe...maybe another night." She said quietly, looking sorrowfully up at him. He just smiled and leaned down to kiss her. "I'm sorry..."

"Don't be sorry. I know this isn't something that's easy for you. I'm ready when you're ready, okay?" Rigo reassured her, pulling the unused condom off and wadding it up into a tight little ball, which he then tossed into the wastebasket. They continued making out until they tired of it (which usually took a while), and Rigo drifted off to sleep, having to wake up early in the morning for work anyway.

Lucy felt like crying. But she didn't. She couldn't. She'd cried every tear she had in her back in Texas. But Rigo didn't know that. No one did. And somehow, she felt, that was the worst part of all.