AN: Slightly slash at the end. / Debated not having it but realized I just couldn't do it…Um, not much else I have to say about this. I kind of made it so it tied into other little ficlets of mine, such as the allusions to Ten O'Clock News and Soda…but seriously, don't start thinking it is as a series or anything. P



Jack Spicer had never been a fan of dogs, and though this little yappy one running around his feet was extraordinarily cute, it was no exception.

It had appeared on his doorstep early that morning, with a red bow tied around his neck and no form of identification what-so-ever. Jack had gone out to fetch the morning paper, and there on the front stoop sat the dog, newspaper in mouth, wagging his tail and looking up at the boy genius with a look of absolute adoration.

If Jack had liked dogs, he would have melted.

But Jack didn't like dogs, so he snatched the newspaper away from the mutt, and kicked at him with a booted foot. "Get out of here, you mangy mutt!"

The dog merely jumped back a few feet, then barked, wagging his tail faster.


Jack rolled his eyes and turned around, declaring himself unconcerned with the canine's actions from here on out. He placed one hand on the doorknob, ready to reenter the mansion, when he realized his other hand was exceedingly wet. He quickly dropped the slobbery newspaper in disgust, wiping his hand on his black pants.

"Ewww!" He whined, turning around once more to glare at the dog. But upon turning he realized the animal was nowhere to be seen. "It must have left - good." But before he could turn back to the house, a heavy sensation landed on his foot. Glancing down, he observed the young puppy nibbling and pawing anxiously at his boots.

Frustrated once more, he kicked his leg out, sending the dog flying a foot or two. It yelped in pain - a sound which would have made any normal person rush to its aid.

But Jack was not any normal person. At the most, he felt the tiniest tug at his heart, which he shook off, determining it to be a result of the plate of high-cholesterol sausage he had that morning.

The dog was now staring up at Jack, eyes twice as wide as they were before, tail tucked between his legs. An annoyingly high-pitched sound was emanating from his throat - a type of whine that would have caused any humane person to pick up the poor puppy and cuddle it until it was wagging its tail joyously once again.

Jack slammed the door in the dog's face.

"Stupid dog," He muttered, making his way towards his basement laboratory.

But even in his private lair, Jack Spicer was not free from the evil goodness of the little doggy. For ten minutes later, as Jack was laboriously working on a new Jack-bot, a sudden commotion outside jolted him from his work.

From the sounds of it, things outside the mansion were being subjected to a very loud, very clumsy burglar. Thinking it was yet another sneaky visit from one Xiaolin monk, he moved calmly to his monitoring system and pushed a button. As the screen flickered on however, Jack let out a swear.

He sprinted up the stairs and through the halls before flinging open the mansion's front door, revealing a pile of fourteen broken Jack-bots, seven limping swans from the lake, forty-two roses pulled up from his mother's garden, trash scattered about the yard as if it were some sort of landfill and - worst of all - one very muddy, very wet little dog.


Looking around the steaming pile of chaos, Jack Spicer trembled. He glanced down at the mutt, who was now pawing at his feet again, jumping up and batting at his knees. Jack's pants were getting very dirty, very quickly. Still shaking, he reached down and picked up the little animal.

Squirming in his hands, the puppy moved its legs in slow dog paddle, yipping and yapping excitedly. Jack, eying it suspiciously, brought the dog in closer to his face. It stopped squirming, and instead resorted to sniffing furiously at Jack's nose. Once it was satisfied with the scent, it woofed once more, and planted a big wet one across the face of the evil boy genius.

Jack winced and pulled the dog away from him for a second, holding it at arm's length with one hand while he wiped his face clean with the other. Slowly he opened one eye and sneaked a look at the puppy, who was dangling in the air, panting happily.

With one swift movement, Jack pulled the dog into a hug. The dog yelped at the sudden change - and perhaps yelped in pain at the bone crushing hug. Jack, however, did not relent.

"Such large scale destruction from one little puppy!" He squealed, holding the animal tighter. "Think what we could do together - if we fine-tuned your powers and combined them with mine! We'd be unstoppable!"

He released the dog from the hug, but still held him in his hands, beaming down on him. "Just think of the terror we could release on Katnappé! Just don't go in the rose garden anymore; Mom will kill me."

The dog barked in response, wagging its tail joyfully.

Already plotting the downfall of Katnappé's kittens, Jack turned to reenter the mansion. Upon turning, however, he noticed something he hadn't seen before - an envelope, laying neatly on the doorstep. Curiously, he bent down to pick it up, holding the dog under his arm with one hand. He opened the envelope, revealing a card.

"Happy Birthday, Jack! - Love, Raimundo"

Smiling to himself, Jack stepped inside the house and shut the door.