Birds of Feather

Chapter 2: Friendly Terms

"Thank you again, doctor Marco." You say for the third time as you get into his car. It's a 1972 Mercedes 300 SEL and you're almost afraid to put the plastic bags of your ruined clothes in it, despite Marco's insistence it was okay. "You really didn't have to go this far."

Marco hums a little. "You could've kept on walking by that alley, yoi." He says, putting the car in gear and heading out of the hospital's lot. Your home address is already in the car's Log Pose, quietly giving directions. "You were already having a bad day, helping that dog only made it worse."

"No," you interject, looking out the car window. "Not helping that dog would've made it worse. This was the best way the day could've gone."

Marco's silent for a moment and his eyes are on the road when you look away from the window. "How long before you'll know if there's an owner for her?"

"Well, we'll know today if she's chipped or not." He explains. "Even so, the office team is already making calls and checking missing dog resources. They'll reach out today and tomorrow, and we'll post pictures once she's awake. If you want to claim her it might take a couple weeks before we can promise full ownership but if you want to surrender her to the hospital, you can do that in a couple days."

"I'll probably surrender her." You answer. "I don't have a roommate or anything, and my job can run long some nights. It wouldn't be right to leave her alone that much."

"We have some cats, if you're looking for a pet." Marco says, a smile on his face. "A couple short hair domestics will keep each other company while you're at work and still be happy to see you when you get home, yoi."

You grunt. "I'll think about it. How many pets do you have?"

"With an answer that surprises everyone, none." He says, glancing over at you with a smile. "Every time I've ever tried to have a pet one of my brothers takes a liking to it. Now, whenever we have too many surrendered pets, I just walk them through the hospital and have them pick something out."

"Ho- how many brothers do you have?" You're not sure you want to know the answer.

"Lots." He says with that same smile. "My foster father took a lot of boys under his care. Not many of us are blood-related, a few here and there, but we're all Pops' kids."

"Oh wow. Sounds like a good man."

"He was," Marco answers evenly.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"It's alright. A couple of my brothers took over the legacy, and the house is still full of sons and daughters."

"That's good then." You smile. "I... really appreciate this, by the way."

"Mm, you've said thank you quite a few times, yoi." His grin takes on a devious tilt. "If you give me too many more thanks, I'll be back to owing you again. Before you know it, I'll owe you dinner at least."

You flinch and then laugh. "That's fair, ah... right, food."

"Hm?"

"I was wondering why I was so hungry, and then I remembered." You say with a soft grunt. "At least now I'll have the time to make something, unlike this morning. Ah, there it is, on the le- oh hells."

"You have company, it seems."

"Yeah, I do." You grumble.

"You going to be okay?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, no, I'll be fine. He only looks like the world's biggest delinquent." You assure him. "Kid runs a car repair shop, and my car got towed there this morning."