"Jim, you're the only person I can think of who could help."

"What about the guys you work with? Any of them has to know more about police dogs than I do!"

"I tried them first, and they're sympathetic, but they've all got their own dogs. In a couple of cases they've got their working dog plus a retired one, and they can't fit in another one. Hell, I know what it's like -- I'm not the first guy in the unit to take off sick; I've had to refuse to help out someone else because I couldn't fit in another dog. A working dog can be put into the kennels while his handler is off, but the retired ones are counted as pets -- there just isn't room for them in the kennels."

"Well, what about the kennels where people put their pet pooches when they go on vacation?"

"I know some of them are good -- I even had a couple recommended -- but Sky has become used to the easy life since she hit retirement age. I couldn't do that to her."

"There's nobody home all day."

"Sky's used to that. All she needs is a quick walk in the morning for toilet purposes, a longer walk at night, say half an hour to an hour, her dinner and a short last-thing-before-bed toilet run. As long as she has company during the evening and a soft bed, she'll settle."

Jim -- who, when he felt like it, could be the most pig-headed bastard in creation -- knew he was losing the argument. He had never been quite sure if being a sucker for a sob story was a strength or a weakness.

"How long do you expect to be in the hospital?"

"Not more than two or three days, but I'll have to take it easy for a few days after I get home, so although I'll be able to manage for myself, I won't be able to exercise Sky -- say a week, tops. After that I should be able to manage two or three short walks every day rather than one long one."

Jim Ellison sighed, knowing he would probably regret this. The last time he had a house guest 'for a week' it had ended up permanent -- well, for one of his 'guests'. He had insisted that the monkey... Barbary ape... be returned to its rightful owner at the end of the week.

Though he had to admit he didn't regret in the least the way things had turned out.

And he didn't have to turn out on a possibly cold, wet day to walk Sandburg, he thought, conveniently forgetting the number of times he had had to collect his partner from somewhere at all sorts of odd hours, either because of a broken-down car or because he'd been arrested for passing counterfeit money or kidnapped by someone or...

"All right, Bruce -- bring the dog over. I know enough about dogs to know it'll settle better with a stranger if you leave it than if that stranger picks it up and takes it away somewhere." He could do nothing to hide the resignation in his voice.

"Thanks, Jim -- I owe you for this. My operation is first thing on Tuesday -- I have to go in to the hospital on Monday night. I'll bring her over late Monday afternoon."

Jim Ellison put the phone down with a long sigh, still far from convinced that he was not making a BIG mistake. Though a properly-trained ex-police dog would hardly trash the loft the way Larry had done. Twice.

And just what was Sandburg going to say about it?

He grinned, knowing exactly what Sandburg would say. "Sheesh, Jim, you're such a softie! Even a dog is part of your tribe..."

I was worried.

No, that's not the right word. Frightened? No... 'Nervous' might be the best word.

See, I'm retired. Although I've always liked routine, when I was younger, I could take change with no bother at all, but now... well, let's just say I'm settled now that I'm retired, I like my comfort, and I've managed to get Bruce -- my human -- well trained. Oh, I always did what he told me when I was working -- there's a right and a wrong way to work, and my instincts aren't always what humans think of as right, so while I was still working I depended on him to tell me the difference. Usually, even now, habit keeps me what they call 'obedient' -- anyway, it's polite not to frighten law-abiding humans; it's surprising how many humans are afraid of my breed, though as long as we're properly educated there's no need for anyone to be frightened. My human hasn't even been assigned a new dog to work with him yet, though I suppose one day he'll bring some young upstart home and I'll have to stir myself to put my paw down firmly -- no way will I let some inexperienced, newly-trained pup push me around! Why, the number of arrests I've been responsible for...

Oh, I know I'll have to advise any youngster coming to work with him, just as Cloud, the dog he worked with before me, helped me when she was retired and I was still learning the job. But I would be the boss!

But Bruce was smelling wrong, and I knew what that smell meant. He was sick, though I wasn't sure how sick. But I couldn't help remembering... he was sick last year too, and it was pretty serious for a while. I had to stay in the police kennels for what seemed like ages. I retired not long after that.

Then two or three days ago he came home early, which was kinda nice, because although I sleep a lot of the day it does get lonely sometimes. We went for a longer-than-usual walk along the beach -- that's my favorite walk -- and when we got home again he started preparing his dinner -- boy, chicken! I was going to get some tasty tidbits in mine! But while it was cooking...

He picked up that queer black thing he sometimes talks to. I didn't pay much attention at first, but then I heard my name. You can bet I paid attention after that!

What was that? Kennels? Oh -- no. He was saying he didn't want to put me into kennels. Then he started speaking about our daily routine.

I strained my ears -- sometimes if I really listen I can hear a voice from the black thing, though nowadays I can't hear it as clearly as I used to when I was younger -- and it didn't sound as if the voice was very happy.

Oh -- that sounded better. Just for a week. I could do that -- put up with living with a stranger for a week. But it was going to be a worrying week -- I knew what the word 'hospital' meant. Bruce had been in one a few times when he'd been hurt... and there was last year, of course, too... but I couldn't help but wonder why, because he wasn't doing anything just then where he could be hurt. Not till he got another working dog.

But... of course, he did smell sick.

He put the thing down, then continued getting dinner ready.

And yes, it was good -- but I'd have enjoyed it more if I hadn't known that I'd soon be away from home for a while.

I wandered over to the rug in front of the fire and settled down to enjoy the heat, wondering how hard I'd have to work to break in my temporary human.

It was actually another three days before Bruce loaded my basket and a box with my food and water bowls and a supply of food into the car. I watched just a little suspiciously -- there seemed to be far more food there than I'd need for just a week. No, I can't really count -- three is about my reliable limit as far as numbers go -- but I know that if I count to three twice that's nearly a week, and when I counted the tins, it came to three three times, then another three times...

What hadn't he told my temporary human? Was this going to be as bad as last year, when he was sick for so long?

Although I knew what was happening, I didn't hesitate before getting into the car. I've always loved traveling in a car, and there hasn't been nearly enough of it since I retired. But I don't have any real way to let Bruce know that. They -- humans, that is -- aren't really all that intelligent. I mean, we dogs can understand what they say, but not many of them have any idea what we say. Makes training them pretty hard, sometimes.

So although I was pretty unhappy, I was going to make the most of the trip.

When I saw where we were going, though, my heart sank a little more. This was a pretty built-up part of Cascade; not a yard in sight. Not that I ever got much chance to run around in Bruce's yard, or lie in the sun, except on the days he wasn't working -- and those days weren't always sunny -- but even sometimes was better than never.

At last he stopped, and while he got out of the car I had a quick look around the area where I'd be living for the next few days, and then sniffed. Ah -- that smelled good... a bakery. I wondered if I could persuade my temporary human to feed me some nice freshly-baked bread, preferably with a little butter on it... Well, if humans are allowed junk food, why shouldn't I be allowed some, too?

Jim Ellison opened the loft door to a big box on legs.

"Bruce, for heaven's sake -- let me help you with that!" He took it, nearly dropped it -- it was heavier than he had expected -- and put it down just inside the door. His nostrils twitched as he looked at his friend.

Both ex-army, the two had trained at the Police Academy at the same time; the initial not-too-friendly competition between them had become reluctant respect over the first few days, and by the time their training was finished it had become a casual friendship that had lasted -- although after Bruce Corran joined the K9 squad they had rarely seen anything of each other.

Now every instinct Jim had was screaming an alarm.

Even if Corran hadn't told him he needed an operation, Jim would have known there was something wrong with the man; even without smelling the illness he could see the strain, the lines of pain around the mouth and eyes.

He pulled Corran inside. "Bruce, what is wrong with you?"

"Gallstones. Painful, but not life-threatening. That's why I haven't taken on another dog yet -- why I moved onto the training side when Sky retired last year. I started having trouble not long before I retired Sky. We were hoping to avoid surgery, tried ultrasound, and it seemed to work; and the doctor told me to cut a lot of fat out of my diet, and I did, but --" He shrugged. "The cure was only temporary. Grew a new crop of the things, so this time they're taking the gall bladder out. It's no big deal. Laproscopy makes it an easier op now than it used to be. I'll actually be off work for at least two weeks, but I should be able to take Sky back on Sunday, or Monday at the latest."

"Well, don't try to do too much too soon." He might not be Corran's Blessed Protector, but Corran -- even though he was a cop and therefore himself a tribal protector -- was still one of Jim's tribe.

Corran grinned. "Jim, it's only the young who refuse to admit they can't do something just because they're sick -- who think that keeping on, aggravating the condition, is the macho thing to do. I'm past the age of being that stupid."

"Bruce, carrying that box up here was stupid. Just what's in it, anyway?"

"All her stuff except her basket. Bowls, food... She's a big dog, she eats a lot. There's a list in the box too, what to feed her... I did bring more than a week's worth of food, just in case there's a problem, but I don't expect one."

"You should either have brought the basket first, or come up not carrying anything, and asked me to help you. Okay, we'll both go down now -- you bring the dog, I'll carry the basket -- though after the weight of that box, the basket will be nothing. Right?"

"You always did like to take command -- why aren't you a Captain yet?"

"Don't want to be. I had enough of that sort of responsibility in the army. And when I see the shit Simon Banks has to put up with sometimes... No, I'm a good detective, and that's where I want to be -- tracking down the bad guys."

They went down the stairs, and as Jim took the basket out of the car and started back into the building, Corran let Sky out. He locked the car door, and let Sky have a quick sniff around to familiarize herself with the area close to the door of the building. She chose to squat in the gutter outside the door -- not that she needed to; he had toileted her before leaving for 852 Prospect. She was, as he knew, simply marking the place with her scent. Then he took her up the stairs.

The door of 307 stood open. He led Sky in and closed the door behind them.

Jim had already put Sky's basket near the fire.

Bruce took the box with my food into the building with the bakery, leaving me to guard the car. No, he didn't bother locking it. Nobody with any sense tries to steal a car containing my breed of dog, and even though I'm retired, I haven't lost the knack of curling my lip just so if I think someone looks suspicious. There was only once, just after I retired, someone who thought he knew dogs tried it... What, bite him? Me? Perish the thought! No, as soon as I realized he wasn't going to be intimidated I acted friendly, as if he'd fooled me -- then once he was inside the car I caught his sleeve the way I'd been taught to do and hung on. It was good tough material, too; he was still trying to pull away when Bruce came back. Sat good as gold in the back seat with me beside him when we took him to the station to book him for attempted auto theft. He tried to claim he just wanted to speak to the dog -- furballs, I know the difference between a thief and someone who just wants to speak to me! But it was just as well I was retired and it was Bruce's own car -- in a police car I always had to go behind the grill. I can understand why, of course -- we do take a lot of mud and dirt into a car even when we try to be careful -- but lying on the back seat is so much more comfortable...

There was another big human with him when Bruce came back -- I guessed this was the one giving me a home for the week. The big human took my basket so that all Bruce had to do was see to me, and I have to say I felt better about this stranger when I saw him do that... but there was something, even then...

Anyway, I had a sniff around the place to make sure I could find my way back if necessary -- though I was sure it wouldn't be. I knew Bruce would tell his friend to keep me on the leash, though I never need one when I'm with him. There wasn't much smell of dog, which didn't surprise me, but I left my scent at the side of the road anyway, just to let any passing dog know I was claiming the area. Then we went into the building and into one of those tiny rooms that somehow take you to somewhere else when a button is pressed; when the door opened again we just had to go two or three yards along a hallway and we were there.

We went into the house... and I stopped dead for just a second before letting Bruce lead me in, and then he closed the door.

My host had put my basket near the fire, which was nice of him, but... I looked around again, straining my eyes, ears and nose. There was no obvious sign of one, but the place stank of cat. There was an underlying smell of dog, which was nice, but oh, that cat smell...

My human didn't give me any instructions, so I took the chance to look around my temporary home. I wanted to find that cat! No, I wouldn't attack it, but I did want to find it and establish where I stood with it. I could smell it all over the place, but I couldn't see any sign of it. No litter box, no food bowl, no water bowl till mine was put down...

Where was that cat???

Over coffee, Corran took Jim through the notes he had made regarding feeding Sky. Jim nodded, appreciating the detailed information, while keeping half an eye on the dog prowling around the loft as if she was looking for something. He said as much.

Corran glanced at his dog, and grinned. "Just checking the place out. She wants to know all the details of her new home. Don't worry, she won't do any damage. She's well trained."

"She's not likely to -- er -- scent-mark her new territory?" Jim was trying desperately to remember more of what little he knew about canine behavior, gleaned from talking with the occasional dog handler he had met over the years.

"A properly house-trained dog doesn't do that -- and she's already marked outside," Corran said reassuringly, then winced. "God, I'll be glad when this damn operation's over. It's not as bad as it was last year -- well, I went back to the doctor at the first twinge -- I knew what it was this time. Last time... you know what it can be like, you're terrified it's something really serious so you put off seeing the doctor because you don't want to know it's serious..."

"And if you go to the doctor as soon as you realize there's something wrong it can be dealt with quicker, something serious can be cut out while it's still operable, and you have a lot less to worry about," Jim said. "I've never been that stupid, thank goodness, but most of my problems have been work-related injuries." He chuckled. "And if I did try to be that stupid, Sandburg would kick my ass."

Corran grinned, half in sympathy, half in envy. "And from what I've heard, you kick his ass if he does anything stupid. Right?"

Jim laughed. "Well, I try. But... Sandburg isn't small, exactly, he's on the low end of average height, but you know what they say -- the bigger the animal, the more laid-back it is, the smaller it is, the feistier it is? Pretty well any time we have a difference of opinion, Sandburg wins. Nature's way of compensating for his lack of height; he's far pushier than I am."

"And god knows you turned up your share of attitude over the years," Corran reminded him. "So if he's worse than you --"

"No, no, Sandburg doesn't have attitude," Jim said hastily. "Most of the time you'd think he's almost too easygoing. It's just sometimes -- when he thinks it's called for, he doesn't let go, doesn't give in. He hasn't had any formal weapons or combat training, though he's handled guns when he's had to; and he's pretty creative about defending himself. He's deadly with whatever weapon he picks up. He's used a baseball, a fire hose, a wrench, a vending machine --"

"A vending machine?" Corran said, startled.

"Remember Kincaid? He tricked away most of the personnel and took over the building."

"I remember. We were all sent to an emergency that didn't exist."

"It was Sandburg's first day at the station -- I'd taken him in to get him approved as an observer. He realized what was happening and hid, though they eventually caught him. He pushed the vending machine onto a perp. Admittedly, he was terrified and acting out of sheer desperation. The guy survived, though for a while the doctors didn't hold out much hope -- a vending machine's a heavy beast to fall on you, and he had some serious internal injuries.

"Anyway, what Sandburg did that day... well, it impressed everyone who saw it. Then we had the Lash case -- Sandburg was the one who discovered the killer was taking on the identity of his victims. And remember when Joel Taggert lost his nerve after he was nearly blown up? It was Sandburg who found a way to give it back to him. He came in as an outsider and he helped everyone in the department."

"So his ride-along just kept going long after it should have stopped?"

"Yup. Nobody in Major Crime wanted it to end."

"And now? I heard about that story he made up about you. And he's still here? You never used to be that forgiving."

"Bruce, I knew all about it while he was writing it. The problem was that he used my name in it -- he'd meant to change it if he ever did anything with it. Unfortunately, his mother thought it was his real dissertation and sent it to a publisher."

"And you didn't mind that he was using your name in this... this fantasy story?"

Jim shrugged. "He said it helped his imagination to base his characters on people he knew. I didn't mind too much because I knew he meant to change all the names. I didn't think anyone would actually believe it. The whole situation... Well, it escalated because nobody listened to what Blair was saying or did what he wanted. If it was anyone's fault, it was Naomi's -- and you might as well get angry with the wind."

Corran looked at him for a moment. "Like I said, you never used to be that forgiving. Remember Sam Lyle at the Academy?"

"Lyle," Jim growled. "The guy was a head-case."

"Nothing was ever actually proved against him," Corran pointed out.

"I know circumstantial evidence can damn an innocent man, but Lyle was the last person to handle that equipment before it broke, and you know how ham-handed he was. I don't go as far as say he knew he broke it and kept quiet to cover his ass, but I do still maintain that he was careless in the way he handled it, so he could easily have left it damaged -- and because he was careless, a good man was badly hurt."

Sky rejoined her master and lay at his feet, watching Jim. Corran reached down and scratched behind an ear. "Good girl, Sky. Think you'll like it here?"

The door opened, and Sandburg came in, a large grocery bag in one hand, speaking as he entered. "Jim, I stopped off and got us -- Oh, hello. You must be Bruce?" He put the bag on the kitchen counter, and turned towards the visitor, beginning to step forward, hand outstretched.

Sky took one look at Blair and came to her feet, tail wagging furiously.

Then she lunged at him.

Nothing. Not a sign of a cat anywhere, but the smell was definitely fresh. Maybe it was just a feral stray that came in, was given a meal, then left again? But no, I couldn't believe that. In that case, the smell would have been much fainter, much more concentrated in one place -- instead it was quite strong, and it was in everything.

At last I gave up and went back to Bruce. As I lay down, I realized... my temporary human had the taint of cat about him.

No, that wasn't possible -- I know what humans smell like, and he smelled like a human -- but there was definitely a taint of cat.

And then the door opened.

The human who came in wasn't as big as my temporary human. In fact, he didn't look all that impressive, compared to the cat-human. I had time to see that as he closed the door before I smelled Dog -- strong, masculine, powerful, sexy Dog... it was the underlying scent that I'd been catching, but now it was strong, irresistible...

I couldn't help myself; it was love at first sight. I forgot all my education -- completely forgot it. I just rushed to him, stood on my hind legs and, reaching up, put my front paws on his shoulders and leaned forward to lick his face.

I forgot how heavy I am.

He staggered backwards and ended up pressed against the door as Bruce thundered, "SKY!" -- then, more quietly, "Down!"

Oops.

I hadn't done anything that juvenile for longer than I care to remember. I mean, I've been well educated. I've been a working dog -- well, bitch. Among dogs that word doesn't carry the same nasty meaning that it does among humans -- and when I hear it used of a human, you have no idea how insulted I can feel. We bitches aren't like that!

And I'm retired! I'm old -- well, oldish -- though I'm still fit. And... and... I had the operation when I was a year old, whatever it is the vet does then. I mean, dogs just don't ever find me terribly interesting, if you know what I mean, and I didn't expect any sort of 'Rrrrrr' response. But... I just couldn't stop myself. It was... Like I said, it was love at first sight!

I wouldn't have believed it possible. I love Bruce, of course, and I'd do anything for him, but I've never experienced anything like that... that need to get close to this human.

I'd never obeyed an order so reluctantly in my life, but since I finished my schooling I've never had to be told anything twice. I dropped back down, four feet on the ground, and leaned against the dog-human's legs. At least Bruce had just ordered me down; he hadn't told me to leave this so-wonderful one.

Who reached down and stroked my head. Ooohhhhh... that felt so good...

The cat-human said, "Chief -- are you all right?"

'Chief' -- what a nice name.

Blair continued to stroke Sky's head as he grinned at his partner. "Yeah, man -- you know, dogs have always seemed to like me, but that was something else!" He looked at Corran. "So -- Bruce. Is she always so enthusiastic when she meets someone?"

Corran shook his head. "I don't know what got into her. She's usually much better behaved than that." He sighed. "Well, at least I know she'll settle all right."

"I just hope she's as enthusiastic about going home again," Jim said dryly.

"Oh, I'm sure she will be." He got up. "Thanks for the coffee, Jim. Nice meeting you, Sandburg, but I have to go. Even though my op's not till tomorrow, I'm due at the hospital in an hour." He paused beside his dog. "And you behave yourself, young lady." He stroked Sky's neck.

She drew her attention briefly from Blairand whined once as Corran left; then, as the door closed, she turned back to Blair. She nudged his hand with her nose, and Blair grinned. "Typical dog," he chuckled. "Starved, unloved, unwanted, neglected, I'm absolutely her last hope for a little bit of love and attention -- and with luck, a crust to keep body and soul together." He looked down at the worshipping eyes. "You're not fooling me, you know. You're very well looked after. Come on, now -- let me get a seat."

He moved to the couch, Sky shadowing him all the way, and once he was sitting, she laid a pleading chin on his leg.

Jim laughed. "You've certainly got an admirer there, Chief." But there was a fractional edge to his voice.

"Ah, well, there's no need to get jealous. I bet she's just feeling a little insecure." He stroked her head; her tail waved, and Blair yelped. "Jim -- get the glass, man!"

"Huh?" Then Jim realized that Sky's tail was missing the glass wolf and panther on the coffee table by only an inch or so. He gathered up the two glass animals -- and for safety, the two wooden ones as well -- and put them all carefully on a top shelf.

"You want to watch that tail, Beautiful," Blair told her.

He wasn't totally surprised when Sky paid no attention whatsoever. If anything, the movement of her tail speeded up.

"She gets a good walk about now," Jim said. "Do you want to come too?"

"Like I have a choice?" Blair asked.

"Well, I was the one Bruce asked to take Sky, so I'm the one responsible for little things like walking and feeding her."

"Jim, if you think I'm going to wait here on my own for an hour or so while you walk Sky, you can think again!"

"Hmm. Is it my company you want, or your admirer's?"

"You can't possibly be jealous of a dog -- can you?" Blair asked.

"No, not really," Jim said.

"And you're not miffed because she seems to prefer me?"

"Of course not!"

"Why don't I altogether believe that?" Blair asked the shelf where the glass and wooden animals sat safely out of reach of the thumping tail.

The men grinned at each other, put on their jackets, fastened Sky's leash to her collar and headed out. It would be easy to reheat the food Blair had brought in when they returned.

We had a good long walk, then while I flirted -- there's no other word for it -- with Chief, Jim heated the food Chief had brought home with him. I hoped they wouldn't know I have to go to my basket while they ate, and I might have been able to persuade Chief that I didn't, but Jim knew -- and that was when I realized that he was the dominant in the house.

The cat -- not the powerful dog.

After they ate, it was Jim who got my dinner. He didn't know the exact amount I normally get, and he erred on the generous side; and both of them left some of their dinner to add to my bowl.

Oh, I'd certainly landed on my paws all right... if only Jim didn't smell so much of cat! I've noticed that human males don't like to get too close together, don't normally seem to like touching each other, but when we settled down for the evening, Jim and Chief sat surprisingly close on the big seat while they watched the box full of the moving pictures that look like humans but don't have any smell. I've never quite understood why humans like to watch what's happening inside a box, but they all seem to -- and it's amazing how much goes on inside those boxes. I've never understood how those humans get in and out of the box, either.

I looked at my temporary humans and wondered again how much I could get away with.

I decided to take a chance, jumped up onto the seat beside Chief and put my head on his knee. He dropped a hand onto my head, scratched gently behind my ears then continued to stroke my head. Ohhhh.... Oh, that felt so good...

Both men were pleasantly surprised at how readily Sky accepted the change in her routine -- of course, they knew she was properly trained, even if she had been allowed some leeway since she was retired -- and Blair felt quite flattered by the devotion she was showing him. If Jim did feel slightly miffed that he -- the man who fed her -- was being virtually ignored while she hogged his guide's attention, he didn't, after that first slightly annoyed reaction, show it.

"Did you ever have a dog, Chief?" he asked lazily, totally unaware of how closely his gentle caressing of Blair's hair was mirroring the attention Blair was giving to Sky.

"No," Blair replied. "I'd have liked one, but we moved around too much. Like, there was one time we went to Britain for a few months -- Britain had quarantine laws. Six months in kennels, mandatory, no exceptions. Even if your dog was guaranteed inoculated against rabies, it didn't make any difference. Then once or twice Naomi left me with a friend while she took off for somewhere children weren't necessarily welcome, but you can't always be sure your friends can or will take your dog even though they're willing to take your kid." He shrugged. "It wasn't any big deal. What about you?"

"No. I don't remember ever wanting one. Stephen asked once if we could get one -- it wasn't long after Mom left -- but Dad told him no. He never asked again. I suppose he realized Dad would always say no. He wasn't a man who changed his mind about things. Not then. I suppose it made sense; we might not have liked them, but we always knew the rules." He shrugged. "He does seem to have improved with age -- he didn't seem upset when he found out about us, for example -- but I'm not completely sure how flexible he's become. He might just have been hiding how he really felt because there were other people around. I was never very good at reading him."

"But you seem to know a thing or two about dogs?"

"Mostly just common sense -- and over the years, I've known one or two dog handlers. I remember some of the things they've said. The most important thing is to be consistent. Now that you've let Sky onto the couch, we can't suddenly turn round and tell her to get off; that would just confuse her."

"Oh. You don't really mind, do you?"

Jim kissed Blair's forehead. "No, I don't mind. It's only for a week, after all, and at this time of year I don't expect she'll be shedding. Unlike a certain guide I can think of, who lives not a million miles away."

Blair turned his head, smiling. "And a certain sentinel I can think of who is steadily losing at least some hair he can't afford to lose."

Jim laughed, and leaned over to kiss Blair's lips.

And Sky rose, stepped over Blair's legs, and pushed herself in between the two.

How dared he! I know what it means when humans press their mouths together in what they call a 'kiss'. How dared that cat-human kiss my Chief! Even though Chief didn't seem to mind.

I didn't suppose either of them would realize why I objected, either.

So I pushed in between them, even though it meant being closer to the smell of cat than I liked.

And how I wished I knew where the cat was!

Forced apart by Sky's determined wriggling, Jim and Blair looked at each other, and Jim chuckled. "Looks like your admirer is jealous, Chief."

"Do you mind?" Blair asked. "That she seems to like me, I mean."

"She's just showing her good taste, Chief. I'm not surprised she's fallen in love with you. Hell, I fell in love with you, and I'm sure I'm a bigger hardass than a properly-trained dog could ever be."

"Nah -- you're just a big pussy-cat." Blair considered his statement for a moment, then added, "Most of the time."

"Have you ever spoken to the guys in Vice?" Jim asked.

Blair grinned. "Sometimes. One of them wanted to know my secret, how I'd 'tamed' you so that you actually spoke to people instead of just growling. I told him it was an esoteric secret passed down from father to son for generations -- of course, in my case it was mother to son."

"You could have said grandfather."

"Yeah, I suppose I could. I didn't think of that.

"You know, it's weird -- I love Grandma Anna, but somehow... somehow Grandfather Joe is more nebulous. He died too soon after I met him, I think; I never really felt I knew him."

Jim nodded, understanding.

By now both men were absently stroking Sky, who had settled down between them and laid her head on Blair's other leg.

Well, give Jim his due, he knows how to stroke a girl. I could forgive him a lot for that. I didn't understand a lot of what they talked about, but I do understand tone of voice, and I could forgive him even more for the way he spoke to Chief, reassuring him about something.

After a while, I yawned. It had to be getting close to bed-time.

Would I be allowed onto Chief's bed? Oh, I hoped so! It would certainly be softer than my basket -- comfortable though that is. Chief certainly seemed more inclined to let me off with things my own human wouldn't allow. Jim was like Bruce, he seemed to have certain inflexible rules; he hadn't allowed me to look hopeful beside the table, after all.

It had to be something to do with Chief having that powerful dog aura. While I know I'm not interesting to a male, I'm still a good-looking bitch, though I do say it myself, and I've learned in the past that dogs often will give in to a strong bitch.

Cats are a whole other matter.

"Okay, Chief," Jim said after a while. "You're looking tired."

"A bit." Blair yawned. "It's been a long day. Okay, I got a lot done... but I'll be glad when this dissertation is finished. Sometimes it seems like I've spent my entire life studying."

"But you have," Jim pointed out.

"Yeah." Blair chuckled. "I suppose I have." He gave a long grunt as he stretched.

"I'll take Sky out. You get ready for bed. I'll only be ten minutes."

"Okay."

Sky looked back at him almost pleadingly as Jim led her to the door, but she went obediently enough when Jim urged her forward.

I'd hoped Chief would come out for my late-night walk, but no; Jim took me, leaving Chief in the house. Even though it was dark, he took me rather further than I normally get at night, which would have been nice if I hadn't wanted to get back to Chief. If I was only going to be there for a week, I wanted to be with him every possible minute.

Yes, I know. That sounds bad, as if I'd changed my allegiance, but I hadn't. I did want my human back, but Chief was so... so... I wanted him as well! I wanted Chief to come and live with us instead of living here with Jim!

When we arrived back, though, there was no sign of Chief, and I was worried for a moment, then I heard his voice from upstairs.

"That was a long ten minutes, Jim!"

"Oh, well, since we had to go out anyway, it would have been a shame not to give her a decent walk."

Really, Jim was quite nice -- far nicer than I'd have expected someone so... so feline to be. He was certainly trying hard to do what he thought would keep me happy.

Not wanting to push my luck, I went to my basket and curled up in it. Later, once Jim had gone to bed, I could make a move onto one of the big chairs. As long as I remembered to get back to my basket fast when I heard Jim moving in the morning, he'd be none the wiser. I didn't think Chief would care -- he'd already let me up beside him during the evening, but somehow, although he hadn't actually said anything, I didn't think Jim had been as happy about that as Chief seemed to be.

However, what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him -- as I've heard the humans say.

Jim locked up, checked everything, paused by Sky's basket and gave her a quick pat, then headed up the stairs. It had been a long day, he too was fairly tired, and while he wasn't entirely in the mood for sex, he was in the mood for the sort of comforting cuddle and affectionate kissing that led to sex nine-tenths of the time.

In the bedroom he stripped and slipped into bed, reaching out to pull Blair close. Blair sighed and relaxed into his sentinel's embrace. "Mmm... this is nice," he murmured, and sought Jim's mouth. It opened to him, and he slipped his tongue into it, re-exploring territory that was so familiar yet always exciting. After a while Jim began to nuzzle at his neck, and he moved his head a little to give his partner better access to it.

Something landed on the bed, heavy enough to push down between them, and a different, rougher, longer tongue stroked across Blair's face.

"Sky!" he spluttered. "Stop it! Sky!"

I watched Jim going up the stairs, then put my head back on my front paws, deciding that I'd better wait a few minutes before moving; he might come back down, and if he found me on the big chair he'd almost certainly order me to my basket, and -- well, I've said it before. I've never disobeyed a direct order. Then I heard a faint creak as he got into bed, and then...

What was he doing? He wasn't actually attacking Chief, but although Chief still didn't seem to mind, he was... he was trying to bite Chief's neck, and... I had to protect what was mine!

I couldn't actually attack, of course -- Jim was my temporary human; but I could jump up between them and push Jim away from Chief. A ninety-pound German shepherd can do that quite easily, after all, even though Jim is a big human. Then to show him that Chief was mine, I began to lick Chief's face.

I was puzzled, though, when he told me to stop -- why should he want me to stop when he seemed happy to have Jim licking him? -- but I did, and just settled my head on his shoulder, making myself comfortable between them. Oh, I could have pushed Jim off the bed, and don't think I didn't consider it, but that wouldn't have been polite; his smell (and the cat's) were clearly on the bed, as well as Chief's, so they obviously shared it the way I'd sometimes shared a basket with Cloud when I was young.

Then having made it clear -- I hoped -- that I was there on the bed to stay, I closed my eyes -- and my ears -- and went to sleep.

Propped on one elbow, Jim looked disbelievingly from the dog, to Blair, and back again. "It looks as if she's the jealous one," he murmured at last.

"Mmm. Gives a whole new meaning to the phrase 'jealous bitch', doesn't it?" Blair muttered. He sighed. "Well, I'm flattered by her devotion, but it looks like we're going to have a long, celibate week."

"Yeah."

Blair squinted down at the canine head on his shoulder. "Hey, Sky!"

Nothing; not even the twitch of an ear.

"Bruce didn't say anything about her going deaf, I suppose?" Blair muttered.

"No. Why?"

"Well, I just thought that if I could wake her, I could maybe persuade her to lie on my other side so that we could at least cuddle -- since she seems to object to anything more."

"Only she's refusing to wake up. There's none so deaf as those who don't want to hear."

Blair grunted and reached a hand towards Jim, who took it. Then, denied any other contact by the sturdy body of the dog lying obstinately between them, they too closed their eyes and attempted to sleep.