Chapter Text
Logan watched bacon sizzle in a pan. Patton had wanted to do a baked potato bar tonight for dinner and so, Logan figured he might as well prep some of the toppings before he got home.
As he cooked, the dog came over to press against his leg and whined pitifully. “I’m not Patton,” he reminded her. The dog made another sound and pawed at his leg a bit, the equivalent of rolling her eyes as far as Logan could tell. “You are on a strict diet that is optimal for a dog of your size.” The little bastard just flopped her body on his feet and looked up at him knowingly.
He cursed which was not the only action he was about to take that he would never dare to do if Patton was in the house. He removed the current batch of bacon from the pan onto a paper towel covered plate. Once finished, he grabbed one piece. Missy yipped happily and removed herself from his feet. He knelt down in front of her and met her eyes seriously.
“If you tell Patton about this, you are going straight to the pound,” he warned.
She just wagged her tail at him. He took that as agreement and offered her the slice of bacon. She snatched it away in a moment.
“I can’t believe it,” a voice said. Logan looked up to see Virgil in the doorway to the kitchen, pointing accusingly at the dog who was loudly chewing the bacon. “You feed the dog too!”
“Aren’t you supposed to be working on your science paper.”
“I already finished it and don’t try to distract me!” he said. “All of that talk. All of the complaining and lectures about how the dog is on a strict diet, and you feed her bacon when we’re not looking!”
Logan coughed. “Well,” he said. “When we got her, she was quite malnourished. While it is best to feed her species appropriate food for the most part, on occasion, human food is likely a benefit to her physical and emotional health.”
“You’re soft for her!” he accused.
“I most certainly am not.”
“Admit you’re soft for her or I’m telling Patton.”
Logan pressed his lips together. “I am soft for the stupid creature,” he admitted.
Virgil cackled. Missy had finished her bacon and trotted up to the boy, yipping along with his laughter. Logan was being mocked.
Logan turned back to the pan to start another batch of bacon. Virgil was cooing mocking things to the dog.
“Is Logan your daddy?”
“Yap yap!”
“Are you Logan’s baby?”
“Yip!”
Why was it that every being Logan cared about in his life was absolutely incorrigible?