Puppy Love
Peggy knew something was amiss even before she had touched the front door knob. A gut feeling that something was off as she approached the facade of their house, gradually seeped down her spine, putting her on edge. It had been a long day, and maybe she was just being paranoid—
As Peggy turned the key in the lock, there was a loud crash and a heavy thud from inside the house. On reflex, she withdrew her pocket pistol from her purse, whipping it ahead of her as she rushed the front room.
"Steve?" She called out, moving delicately through the front hall into the sitting room. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. A place for everything and everything in its place, just as she had left it. But her years of training as a special agent were not fooled. Her eyes locked on the rug beneath the sofa— pulled out from its normal position and smeared with a bit of mud.
A struggle.
"Steve?" Peggy repeated, her jaw tensing as she continued to sweep the house. There was no response and she heard no other sound other than the blood pounding in her ears.
As she moved into the master bedroom, she caught what sounded like muffled scuffling coming from the closed bathroom door. Silently, she moved to face it, squaring her shoulders to the door frame, her gun pointed squarely in the middle.
"Come out now with your hands in the air," her voice was dark and commanding, daring whomever was behind the door to test her. "Or I swear to Christ, I will shoot you through the bloody door."
"Crimeny, Peggy! You call me dramatic!" Steve's voice was muffled through the wood, and while it was apparent that he was meaning to be humorous, he also sounded strained.
"Steve? What in God's name are you doing?" Her pistol dropped to the bedside table as she moved across the bed to yank open the door. Locked. She jiggled the handle. No use. "Steve, what the hell is this? Unlock the door."
"I can't. Not yet."
"What the hell does that mean?"
"It means you can't come in here yet."
"Honestly, Steve," Peggy was quickly losing her patience. "I told you not to eat all that spicy food. Just because you can now doesn't mean—"
"God, Peg, it not that!" She could hear the eye roll in Steve's voice.
"Well then, wha—"
But Peggy was cut off by the sound of a small, piecing yip of a bark, followed by the sound of Steve emphatically trying to sush it.
"Oh you cannot actually be serious."
When they had fist gotten the house two months ago, they had both agreed to take the next steps slowly. They had discussed getting a pet, and while Steve desperately wanted a dog (any dog) Peggy was flat out against it. She was certainly more of a cat person and besides, neither one of them was home often enough to properly care and train a dog. That of course had won her argument and that had been that. Of she had figured that was the end of it anyway...
There was a click as Steve unlocked the door, but he made no move to actually open it. Gritting her teeth, Peggy yanked open the door. With the sight she was greeted with, she wasn't sure whether she could laugh out right, or scream.
There was Steve, standing in nothing more than a pair of swim trunks, his hair wet and matted down in several places, with what appeared to be a rambunctious yellow puppy (sopping wet) squirming in his arms. There was water everywhere and mud caked across the inside of the bathtub.
"We talked about this."
"Now you've really done it," Steve scolded at the puppy.
"We agreed that we could not take care of a dog right now, let alone a puppy."
"Would you believe he just followed me home?"
"Not in a million years."
The puppy turned in Steve's arms and the second his eyes made contact with Peggy's, he began to struggle in earnest to free himself from Steve's grasp. The wet fur seemed to help, as before Peggy or Steve even knew what was happening, the puppy had slipped from Steve and came bounding haphazardly at Peggy, catching her off guard. Her heel caught on the carpet, sending her ground. The puppy was on her in a second, wiggling and licking every part of her face he could find. She struggled to push him away until Steve picked him up from behind, pulling him off Peggy. The puppy barked with excitement, kicking his legs and wagging his tail so hard that for a second, Peggy was worried he was going break it off.
"He likes you," Steve looked down at her, a broad grin plastered across his face.
"Fabulous. He's not staying."
"I've already named him, Bucky."
Looking up at Steve and the puppy, Peggy realized instantly that she had lost this fight and it would be better off to surrender now than to continue on with the battle.
With a sigh, Steve offered his free hand, pulling her off the plush carpet.
Peggy glared at the puppy for a moment before turning her full attention and irritation to Steve.
"He sleeps in his own bed outside our room." With that, Peggy spun on her heel, very matter of factly, pushing her now throughly mussed hair out of her face in something of a huff.
"See buddy, I told you she's come around," Steve grinned as the puppy yipped sharply, seemly in agreement.