Reminder: This a random scene that may or may not appear in the actual story. The 'incident' mentioned will be explained in the second story.

Bobby pushed the cart down the aisle, searching for … he looked down at the list. Artichoke hearts? Who the hell bought artichoke hearts? What did you do with them anyway? Finally deciding he probably didn't want to know and resigning himself to eating something with artichoke hearts in it, he continued down the aisle. Just as he found the allusive product his phone rang.

Muttering under his breath, he set the jar in the cart and dug out his phone, not surprised to see that it was Crowley.

"Yeah?" he said in his gruff manner.

"So romantic," Crowley laughed and Bobby could almost hear the smirk.

He rolled his eyes. "What? Did you forget to put something on the list?" Bobby frowned as he heard an unfamiliar sound over the phone. "What?"

"Urhm … well," Crowley stammered then spoke in a rush. "Could you bring home some dog food?"

"Dog food?"

"Yeah. For a puppy, I think. I can't really tell but she feels like a puppy."

"Puppy?" Bobby blinked, realizing that he'd probably find out more if he stopped repeating what Crowley was saying. "Where'd did you get a puppy?"

"Found her outside. She was under one of the junkers."

"Crowley!" Bobby started, remembering the incident a bare few weeks ago.

"One real close to the house! I could hear her crying so I turned the radio on loud and went out. Took me some time to coax her out from under the car … easy, girl … and then I followed the radio back."

Bobby heard the excited yipping of a puppy close to the phone and reasoned that either Crowley was holding the puppy or on the floor with it. A part of him wanted to be angry at Crowley for taking chances but then he heard the other man giggle …. giggle?.

"Stop that, pup! That's my ear you're chewing!" Crowley laughed. "Just … just bring back some puppy food, okay?"

Bobby hesitated then sighed. "Okay. I'll be home soon."

xxxxxxxxx

Grabbing up as many bags as he could carry, Bobby walked up the stairs and shouldered the door open. "Crowley!" he bellowed as he walked in.

"Kitchen!" Crowley yelled back and Bobby walked that way, setting the bags on the table before looking around.

Crowley was at the sink, washing a pan. Nearby a bowl of water was on the floor, some water splashed on the floor around it but no puppy in sight.

"So where's the puppy?" he asked and Crowley turned toward him with a look of surprise.

"She's ….." He paused, head tilted and sighed. "She's in the utility room again. I'm not sure she's housebroken so I'm trying to keep her in the kitchen." Crowley stepped into the utility room, talking over his shoulder. "She's a little clingy. I'm thinking she may have been abused." He walked back, his arms around something that squirmed.

"Crowley." Bobby said, his mouth dry.

"Did you get wet food? I think that might be …."

"Crowley!" Bobby spoke sharply and the demon stopped, startled. "I cannot see that dog."

"What?" Crowley's arms tightened around his burden. It was obvious there was something there but Bobby couldn't see it. "That's not …. She's not ..."

"There is nothing there." Bobby hesitantly stepped closer, stopping abruptly at a sharp yip. He could hear the sound of a tiny tail being wagged and could see the way Crowley's clothes tugged and twisted as the puppy moved. "That's a Hellhound puppy."

"No! I mean, she doesn't feel like one. She just … she feels like a puppy." There was a hint of panic in Crowley's voice and he shifted his grip to hang onto the wiggling puppy. "I …. I would have known." His protests sounded weak and uncertain and Bobby realized that Crowley was just beginning to realize how undemonic he was becoming.

"How did she get here?" he asked abruptly and Crowley paled.

"I … I don't know."

Bobby stared at him, seeing the turmoil on the demon's face. It's obvious he'd formed an attachment with the puppy, future killing machine that it may be. Shaking his head, Bobby realized he'd have to do one of the hardest thing he'd ever done.

Reaching over, he felt cold metal and gripped it, stepping forward. Taking a deep breath, he looked at the invisible bundle wrapped in the demon's arms, seeing the evidence of her wiggling by the way Crowley's clothes bunched and wrinkled. Reaching out, he took one of Crowley's hands and pressed the can into it.

"Don't feed her more than half a can to begin with." he said gruffly, pretending not to see the surprised look in the other's eyes. "Don't know how much she can eat yet. Or what for the matter." Turning, he started for the door. "Keep her in the kitchen. I'm gonna go back into town. Get more kinds of food, just in case. And some puppy proof gates." He glanced back with a sigh. "And some collars with bells on them."

He didn't know anything about the care of Hellhounds. Never really thought of it either. For all he knew they only ate souls and peed fire but the joyl on Crowley's face made it worth finding out.