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Language:
English
Series:
Part 1 of Fluff 'verse
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Published:
2016-08-03
Words:
696
Chapters:
1/1
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10
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318
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12
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2,705

Pup Holder

Summary:

A timestamp prequel to Trouble with Fluff, telling the story of how Derek found the little fluffball that led to his introduction to Stiles.

Notes:

Originally posted on tumblr, as a response to a ridiculously cute image someone sent me and that I promise you won't regret clicking through to view.

(For another timestamp covering events after Trouble with Fluff, see this tumblr post.)

Work Text:

For the first thirty or so miles after they left the animal shelter, Derek drove as carefully as he could - cruise control securely engaged, potentially clogged freeways avoided, all in an attempt to keep his new little Abigail secure in the passenger seat. He worried, though; he couldn’t stop thinking about needing to slam on his brakes at some point, unable to react quickly enough to keep Abigail from tumbling off the seat and injuring herself.

His first stop, after signing all the paperwork and hearing the precious words, she’s all yours, Mr. Hale, had been at a local pet store. He’d picked up all the basics - shallow food and water dishes suited for her size, puppy pads, food, treats, new collar and leash, a plush bed she’d tested and approved in the store - and had let her trail around the toy aisle until she’d chosen a stuffed hedgehog that stood half a head taller when they were set side by side. She’d curled up against it, quietly chewing on its elongated nose, for the initial stretch of the drive. 

Around mile twenty, she’d gotten restless, propping her stubby legs against the door, trying to push herself high enough to see out the window. She’d attempted to stray past the gearshift several times, her little paws patting against Derek’s wrist, her conversational yipping taking on a stressed tone.

“I know, little one,” he’d said, in as soothing a voice as he could muster. The store had been out of car seats in her size. He’d even asked to speak to a manager and stood in the back of the store, waiting while they double-checked the stock not on display.

“We’ll probably have the booster seats back in next week,” the manager had finally said with an apologetic shake of her head. 

“I can’t wait that long,” he’d said, already growing twitchy at having been in one town for too many days. “I’ll check again the next time we stop.”

Texas was a big state, with long stretches of empty roads, and he hadn’t seen another promising pull-off area yet. He knew letting Abigail claw her way into his lap wouldn’t be safe for both of them, but it wasn’t safe, either, to keep taking his eyes off the road to check on her.

He left one hand on the wheel and reached for the coffee cup he’d picked up in the previous town. It was cold now, and he grimaced as he swallowed the last couple of mouthfuls. Not the best coffee he’d ever had, but it was strong, which was more important for staying awake and alert enough to ensure his cargo was safe.

As he started to slot the empty cup back into its holder - just to the left of the steering wheel, high enough for him to easily reach it without any of that dangerous eyeline-dropping fumbling that caused so many accidents - he paused. “Huh,” he said, glancing at the circumference of the cup, then at Abigail’s fuzzy little body. “What d’you think, girl?”

She barked shrilly, her paws braced on the hedgehog, slipping free even though he took the curve in the road as smoothly as he could manage. 

“Alright, let’s try this.” He dropped the cup into an extra cup holder near the gearshift and picked her up with one hand, setting her carefully into the holder by the window. 

She went quiet, her eyes wide and fixed on him. She gave one soft, questioning yip.

“I’ll put you back if you hate it,” he told her. “But give it a minute. Let me know what you think.”

She wiggled her back paws, checking to be sure this strange new enclosure was steady enough to hold her, then turned her head to look out the window. She yapped again, in a happier tone, then looked back at Derek, her tiny tongue peeking out of her mouth as she grinned at him.

“Only until we get you a proper seat,” he told her. “Don’t get used to your throne, Abbie-girl.” 

She snorted, a tiny huff of breath through her tiny nose, and stared out the window, at the golden fields rolling by.

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