[The apartment is starting to look like someone lives here. There's a large easel stand set up in the middle of the room. A bed, table and chairs. She's in one of the chairs and gets up slowly.
The puppy, meanwhile, is squirming excitedly. He can't really be much older than twelve weeks. He's tiny, with a brown muzzle and white socks.]
Too late. [There's a strong sideways look at Karl's name (there is always a strong sideways look at Karl's name) but it only lasts as long as it takes for Peanut to wriggle half up onto his shoulder and start industriously licking his ear.]
The situation doesn't look as urgent as I expected.
[Which he sets back down after securing the door of the apartment.]
No, you didn't. [But she didn't leave such a sparse message by accident. he watches the puppy stumble and skid across the floor, then looks up at her.] Too soon?
I'm 0 for... [Yeah, that's right, watch her tally up all the pets she's killed in her life, Chase.] 6 or 7.
[She still crouches down to catch Peanut before he blunders his way into her easel, holding his head in her hands like she's about to ruffle his ears, but never quite gets that far. She lets him go when he pulls back from her, scurrying around on the hardwood with little coordination. Puppy feet.]
[She's still crouched on the floor, and her hand goes out when Peanut goes scurrying past again. It's not fair to blame this all on Karl, it's just easy.
She's quiet for a long moment before she voices slowly,]
Part of me would... like to prove I can do this. The rest doesn't think it's worth it.
[She flexes her hand where the tattoo sits along the curve of her thumb. He'd said he wanted her to talk more, so here she is sounding out on him.]
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And picking up said minor disaster when it greets him, yapping, at the door.]
Hello?
[This is to the puppy. He hasn't looked up yet.]
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The puppy, meanwhile, is squirming excitedly. He can't really be much older than twelve weeks. He's tiny, with a brown muzzle and white socks.]
...That's Peanut.
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Who named him?
[Because, Carla, it doesn't sound like you.]
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[Because it was her and she shouldn't have been trying to think of names for the dog at all. It can't stay here.]
Karl brought him.
[Which is why the dog hasn't already been dropped at a shelter.]
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The situation doesn't look as urgent as I expected.
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[She hadn't said much of anything. She just didn't want to be alone with the tiny wriggling thing.]
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No, you didn't. [But she didn't leave such a sparse message by accident. he watches the puppy stumble and skid across the floor, then looks up at her.] Too soon?
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I'm 0 for... [Yeah, that's right, watch her tally up all the pets she's killed in her life, Chase.] 6 or 7.
[She still crouches down to catch Peanut before he blunders his way into her easel, holding his head in her hands like she's about to ruffle his ears, but never quite gets that far. She lets him go when he pulls back from her, scurrying around on the hardwood with little coordination. Puppy feet.]
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[Chase pushes his hands into his jean pockets, crossing the room to join her.]
No, scratch that, fish are the worst. I killed my fish.
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[They were born in large spawns, they were dispensable.]
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I can find him somewhere else, if you like.
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What am I supposed to tell Karl?
[Earnest question, she doesn't know how this is supposed to work. She wasn't expecting to find a puppy in her apartment when she came home.]
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[He shrugs one shoulder. Carla worrying over someone taking offense is fairly new but in this case, he thinks, misplaced.]
Or we blame it on aliens. I'd back you up.
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She's quiet for a long moment before she voices slowly,]
Part of me would... like to prove I can do this. The rest doesn't think it's worth it.
[She flexes her hand where the tattoo sits along the curve of her thumb. He'd said he wanted her to talk more, so here she is sounding out on him.]