A Treat For You
~ For dine
"Why are we stopping here?" Bosco looked around the neighborhood where Yokas had pulled the RMP over to park. They were taking a meal break, but none of the restaurants within walking distance were ones where they ever ate.
"I need to get some stuff; do you mind?" Yokas nodded towards the grocery she'd parked in front of.
It didn't matter if he minded, Bosco knew, because she was already getting out of the vehicle. He followed her, realising that he'd be forced to get his lunch here. It had better be something good; he'd had his heart set on a burger from Fat Matt's.
"Why couldn't you do this after work?" It wasn't that he really cared. He did the same thing, himself. But he wanted lunch, and if he didn't get it, he was going to get irritable.
He'd been in a pretty good mood all day. That wouldn't last much longer into the week -- full moon on the weekend and for the couple days preceding he'd be restless and moody. Every wolf he'd ever known was like that, and they really didn't know why. Hormones, was the best explanation anyone had. Wasn't like they could get a government grant to research it.
But today he was in a good mood because the full moon landed on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Two regular days off and he would only have to put up with the whole K-9 crap for one night.
Yokas was ignoring him, which didn't surprise him. She was filling a handbasket with a bunch of stuff he couldn't see. He followed her, more or less, stopping to check out things he didn't really care about. The store was like most human groceries -- so packed with conflicting smells that no wolf could ever find anything without stopping to look at every single thing.
Shopping in a wolf-run grocery was, by comparison, just about as fun as actually eating. Bosco didn't get down there very often, but Habersham's had a basement set up where werewolves could do their shopping. Everything was kept inside wooden boxes, so the smells were kept mostly inside. Just enough got out that you could find what you were looking for, without being overwhelmed with odors.
Bosco put down a can of beans, rubbing his nose. The way humans did it, you could either smell everything, or nothing. He went to catch up with Yokas, noticing that the hot dog buns were growing mold. He grabbed them and tossed them onto the top shelf.
He saw something in Yokas' basket and hurried over, grabbing it.
"What the hell?"
Yokas' scent went from calm to guilty, but she didn't sound it at all when she grabbed the box out of his hand and said, "Lou said they're good for working... you know. Brian likes 'em. They're not dog treats but they look enough like them that civilians aren't gonna think--"
"I am not eating this shit." He put the box back on the shelf. Granola and textured something -- healthy crap that did in fact look like niblets of dog treats.
Yokas gave him the first stage of the Look. Stage three was when he knew if he argued, he'd end up washing the car for a month. "You have to have something."
"I'm not eating nuts and flakes."
"There's no nuts in here," she argued, taking the box back down. She started to read off the ingredients, but Bosco interrupted her.
"I'm not eating it. We don't have to get anything, you know."
In a low voice, Yokas replied, "Yes, we do. It will look odd if I don't give you a treat when you do something right. Or are you telling me that'll never happen?" She started to grin.
"I don't need a cookie to do my job." Bosco remembered, fondly, the days when he'd got to stay home. Even when it got a little boring, it hadn't ever been embarrassing.
Yokas just stood there and stared at him. Nearing stage two of the Look. If he wanted to keep his earlier good mood, he'd have to give in. Otherwise they'd fight for the rest of the shift.
And come Friday, she'd have come back and bought the granola things.
"Fine. I'll get something." He went past her and around the corner to the next aisle. It was hard to find what he wanted. He could smell it, but didn't see it until -- there. He grabbed the box.
"You're kidding." Yokas, having followed him, took the box out of his hands.
"I like them." He shrugged, knowing that she'd rag him for it. But if he had to play the part of a stupid dog, he wanted snacks that he liked.
"Bosco, these are dog treats."
He shrugged, but could feel his face going red. Yokas was about to burst out laughing.
"You don't actually have to get--"
"I said I like them, all right? Just take them out of the box when we're working. Keep them in a bag or something."
"Why? So no one thinks I'm giving my police dog a doggie treat?" She was still holding the box of Milkbones, waving it around like she was about to announce to the entire store that Bosco liked dog food.
"So Menetti won't find out," he told her, grabbing the box and shoving it into the basket.
"You think Brian won't tell him the next day?"
Damn. Yeah, he probably would. Bosco frowned, trying to think of how to get out of that one. "I'll just tell him you bought them for me."
"And when he smells them on your breath?"
"What makes you think Brian's going to be smelling my breath?" He pushed past her, heading back towards the register. "Are you done? I want to get lunch before we get a call."
She followed him, not arguing. Thank god. As they neared the register, she held out her hand. He looked down, and saw she was holding one of the treats in her hand. With a straight face she said, "Here. Lunch."
He scowled at her, then took it. He bit into it, watching her surprise. She watched, speechless, as he chewed the first bite...then took another. A third finished it off, and Yokas just kept staring at him.
"You owe me a twenty," Bosco said, covering when he realised that the clerk, and two other customers were staring at them as well.
Yokas blinked, then replied, smoothly, "And you still owe me forty from last week. So now you owe me twenty."
Bosco gave her a half-sneer, and she just grinned. But nobody was muttering about psychopath cops -- just mildly weird ones.
As they left the store with her bags, Bosco said, "I still want a burger."
Yokas nodded. "Me, too. We can go--"
At which point the dispatcher interrupted with a 10-21 in progress. Yokas hurried for the RMP, tossing her groceries on the floorboard. Bosco got behind the wheel, waiting until he'd flicked on the lights and pulled away from the curb before starting to bitch about his lost lunch.
He'd barely got started when Yokas crammed another milkbone in his mouth.