#can't wait to show off the SUMSP

[vivaciouswordsmith]

look an update

Finally got around to finishing Chapter 11 of Four-Legged Fiend! Man, it has been a weird couple of months since graduation, plus my graduation gift was a PS4, and I’ve been working on a super ultra mega secret project for RTX, so...yeah, didn’t work on my fic all that much.

As always, you can read it here or beneath the cut. Enjoy!

Somehow, Los Santos managed to lose much of its ghetto look at sunset. 

It could have been the way the shadows concealed the cracks in the concrete and the half legible graffiti. Maybe it was the lack of gunshots and running feet echoing through the streets. Perhaps it was the way the natural slimy underbelly of the city lay down in its mire and let the people breathe for a few moments. Whatever it was, the change was start, and for many residents, most welcome.

Jeremy spent a good deal of the walk trying to slow Ryan down, but it was no use. The wolfdog was determined to go his own way, and Jeremy’s shoulder was throbbing by the time he stopped resisting. The apartment building faded into the darkening horizon, and Jeremy was led into unfamiliar streets.

Nearly an hour of walking later, Ryan finally stopped in his tracks. Jeremy rubbed his upper arm and looked around. He blinked several times. No, his eyes were definitely not lying. They were in a park. There were trees rustling in the wind and grass crunched beneath his feet. Ryan snuffled at the roots of a sapling before turning and lifting his leg. Jeremy politely deflected his gaze to a nearby sign with “Mirror Park” written on it in bold green letters.

“Did you really drag me all the way here to piss on a tree?” he asked. Ryan finished his business and walked back over to Jeremy. His eyes briefly flicked over Jeremy’s torso and arms before locking onto his face. He swallowed, disconcerted by the intensity in those two blue eyes. “Sometimes I swear to God you’re going to open your mouth and blow my fucking mind.”

The wolfdog yawned.

“Very funny.”

Ryan then tugged on the leash, and Jeremy followed him through the park. No-one else was there at this ungodly hour, but even so, Jeremy eyed the growing shadows dubiously. The grass crunched beneath his feet, Ryan panted just a little bit, and a light breeze rustled the leaves on the oak trees. He stumbled when they happened upon a small hill, but regained his balance and ascended without further problems. Once they reached the top, Ryan spun around in a few circles and laid down in the grass. He gave Jeremy a pointed look, and then looked down at a patch of grass near his hindquarters. Jeremy snorted, but complied and sat down.

It might not be as quiet as other cities, but Los Santos had one problem that was universal. When Jeremy looked up at the sky, it was nearly impossible to see the stars. The brightest did their best to pierce through the city’s skyline, but the others were drowned out completely. Still, they did their best, and Jeremy could appreciate that. Ryan put his paws into Jeremy’s lap, and Jeremy lifted a hand and scratched the back of the wolf’s head.

He didn’t know how long they sat there and watched the stars. It had to have been a while, because when a car drove by, he barely noticed it, but he did notice when someone stomped up to him and practically screamed, “Finally! There you are!” He nearly jumped out of his skin, while Ryan barked and leaped to his feet.

Geoff, at the very least, managed an embarrassed smile and a shrug. “Sorry. Thought you guys saw me comin’ towards you.”

“No,” Jeremy panted, “I didn’t. Jesus.”

Geoff laughed a bit and paced in place. A few moments passed. Ryan growled and tugged at the hem of Geoff’s jacket. His left forepaw edged worryingly towards Jeremy’s junk. Geoff coughed. Ryan yanked down on Geoff’s jacket, and the crime boss ended up flat on his ass with a curse.

“Uh…sorry, I probably shoulda…um. Sorry,” said Jeremy.

“It’s not a problem. He would’ve found a way to do it anyway.” Geoff settled in the grass and frowned at the slobber soaking his jacket. “Asshole.”

They were silent again for a good few minutes.

“So, uh, I, uh, we, I mean, we’re not exactly a smooth crew, you know?”

Jeremy blinked. “What?”

Geoff huffed. “We’re fucking criminals, all right? We’re abrasive and horrible and shit. None of us mean anything by it.”

“Oh, the short stuff? I kinda figured.” Jeremy shrugged. “I’ve heard it all before, so I’m used to it by now.”

Geoff blinked. “Huh?”

“Something up?”

“I, uh, I thought you, um, I thought you stormed out because you were mad.”

“No, I stormed out because I thought Ryan would tear my fucking arm off if I didn’t.”

“God, I know what you mean. When he wants something, you fucking give it to him.” Geoff patted Ryan’s flank, and laughed when the pup gave him a withering look. “You’re a spoiled bitch and you know it.”

They both laughed, and much of the tension between them faded into the darkness. Ryan huffed and rolled off their laps. In the distance, a siren wailed. Ryan’s ears twitched. Then he sat back on his haunches, lifted his muzzle to the sky, and howled. Jeremy winced, and then, to his amazement, realized he was trying to mirror the wail of the siren.

“Goddammit, you see, this is why I wanted a penthouse as far off the fucking ground as possible. Do you know how many fucking heists we had to do half-asleep because of this dickhead?” Geoff poked the wolf’s furry side. “I’ll tell you. Too many. Too fucking many.”

“Is…is it a wolf thing, or?”

“We looked it up, and apparently it is. He’s lucky he’s cute, otherwise I’d have tossed him out on his hairy ass a long time ago.” The siren finally faded into silence, and Ryan finished howling. His ears lifted off his neck, he stretched out on the ground, and promptly rolled on his back. He gave Jeremy a pointed look from in between his lanky salt-and-pepper limbs. “Now he’s begging for belly rubs like it’s no big deal. Fucker.” There was no heat in the insult. If anything, Geoff sounded fondly resigned. Jeremy wove his fingers into the coarse belly fur and scratched the pup’s underbelly. One sock-clad foot kicked at the air for his troubles.

“So, just so we’re clear, no hard feelings about the baby stuff, right?”

Jeremy shrugged. “I’ve heard worse.”

Geoff visibly relaxed. “Thank God.” He looked down at Ryan and rubbed his skinny chest with both hands. “How about you, bud? Any hard feelings from you?”

Ryan’s pink tongue lolled out of his mouth, and his leg kicked harder than before. Both criminals grinned down at him. He grinned just as widely back.

“Good. Now that we’re clear on that, let’s go home and get some rest. We’ve got work to do tomorrow.”

As it turned out, Geoff had not been kidding when he said there was work to do tomorrow. At the asscrack of dawn he roused everyone to prepare for what he termed “Operation: Don’t Fuck with the Fakes”. Jack went off to secure a cargobob for them, while Michael prepared for his assault on Zancudo. Despite their best efforts, they couldn’t convince him to take the safer route of calling Merryweather and securing the tank that way, so Geoff eventually broke down and gave Michael his blessing. He had been practically rubbing his hands together in glee ever since.

“And what am I doing?” Jeremy asked.

“You and I are going shopping,” said Geoff.

Jeremy blinked. “But…I thought you were gonna stay here with Gavin and pull the plans for the buildings.”

“Yeah, well, Gavvers and I talked about it, and we’re in agreement.” Geoff’s index finger jabbed at Jeremy’s worn t-shirt. “If you’re going to be a part of this crew, you need new clothes. Your old ones got ruined, and this…” He poked the t-shirt again. “This doesn’t fit the whole ‘eccentric villain’ thing we’ve got going on here.”

“And everything else?”

“After this. They gotta know who they’ve fucked with.”

“Will Ryan be coming with us?”

Upon hearing his name, Ryan looked up and trotted over to the pair. He sat at Jeremy’s feet and craned his neck to stare at Geoff. His stumpy ear twitched.

“He’ll probably have to sit outside, but yes, he’s coming with us. Gav can’t work when he’s around.”

“Does he bother him or something?”

Geoff snorted. “If only! Fucker can never stay focused on his goddamn work when Ryan’s around. I’ll find them wrestling, or he’ll be feeding him all my fucking mignons, and he’ll just squawk and go ‘Wot?’ whenever I ask him what the fuck he’s been doing!” He threw his hands up and scowled at the ceiling. “No matter how many times I shove pens up the little fucker’s ass, he doesn’t get the message.”

Jeremy chose to ignore that last comment, and said, “I guess it’s okay if it helps Gavin focus on his work.”

“He’d better,” said Geoff. “Otherwise we’ll be fucked.”

That was the end of that, as Geoff hustled him towards the door and urged him to get Ryan ready to leave. He got the wolfdog into his harness and leashed by the time Geoff had returned. A set of keys whirled on Geoff’s left index finger, and he seemed to be in a better mood now. Ryan’s eyes zeroed in on the keys. A big puppy grin stretched over his skull-marked muzzle.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re going for a ride, buddy.” Geoff ruffled the pup’s ears, his grin only slipping a little when Ryan’s tongue lapped over his tattooed hand. “Goddammit. You better not slobber on my new suit, asshole.”

“I mean, what’s a little dog spit to us? It can’t be worse than bleeding all over it.”

Geoff fiddled with his bowtie and glowered down at Ryan. Ryan stared right back. His tail thumped all too innocently behind him. “I may not look it, but I do have some standards, Jeremy.”

He led them out of the penthouse and into the elevator. He thumbed the key for the underground garage and leaned back against the railing. Ryan snuffled around the edges of the elevator before settling at Geoff and Jeremy’s feet. He stretched out as far as he could, back paws hitting the opposite end of the elevator, and put his head down. Tinny muzak played over the hidden speakers, backed by the occasional ding of the elevator passing the other floors of the apartment building. Jeremy shifted against the rapidly warming rail and buffed his nails on his t-shirt. Geoff pulled out his phone and tapped at the screen.

It was a great relief when the elevator finally stopped moving and the doors rolled open. Ryan jumped to his feet and tugged Jeremy out into the dim garage. He’d long since learned not to fight Ryan, not when he really got going, and instead resigned himself to follow the wolf wherever he went.

“Jesus, you must really like car rides, Ryan,” he said.

“Have you ever lived with any dog, ever? They all love fucking car rides, man.” Geoff moved in front of them, pulled out a key fob, and pressed a button. There was a pause, and a trio of beeps echoed through the garage. “Okay. This way.”

Jeremy didn’t know what kind of car he expected the Fakes’ boss to have, but it definitely wasn’t even close to the eyeblindingly bright pink Felon waiting for them near the end of the row.

“Nice, right?” Geoff patted the car’s hood and grinned. “Brand fucking new, too.”

Jeremy continued to stare. Ryan moved to the passenger’s side and scratched at the door. Geoff scowled and let out a “Hey!” and the wolfdog slowly dropped back down to the ground.

“Jesus fucking Christ, I’ve only seen these online. How much did it cost?”

Geoff shrugged and popped the door open. “Not much. Only around $90,000 or so.”

“Ninety thousand dollars?”

“No, ninety thousand cents. Of course ninety thousand dollars! These babies are imported.”

Jeremy pulled the door open and gently eased himself into the leather seat. While he fumbled with the seat belt, Geoff reached over and opened the back door. Ryan jumped into the backseat and snuffled at the edges of the seats. His tail beat against the window and cupholders, and Jeremy swore to sweet Jesus he was making the entire car shake.

“That…sounds like a lot of money,” he finally said.

Geoff was quiet for a few seconds. “I forget you little guys aren’t spoiled by the high life like we are,” he said, and started the car. The engine purred into life, and Geoff started off on their errands.

Jeremy ignored the ‘little guys’ comment, and decided to press on the cars thing. “Yeah? How so?”

“Ninety thousand isn’t the most we’ve spent on our vehicles. Have you ever seen Michael’s fucking Adder?”

“I think the astronauts on the ISS can see it,” said Jeremy.

“Yeah, no shit. Anyway, that car cost him a sweet million, and that was before he turned it into a fucking disco ball.” He grinned at the dumbfounded look on Jeremy’s face. “Hey, if you impress us, Li’l J…you can blow millions of dollars on cars you’ll wreck at least once a week, too.”

They exited the garage and peeled off into downtown Los Santos. A click sounded from behind them, followed by a mechanical whirr. Something whacked Jeremy’s shoulder repeatedly, so he finally turned around to look into the backseat.

Ryan had managed to roll the window down and stuck his head out into the open air. His ears flapped and twitched in the wind, and he paid no heed to the way Geoff swerved around cars, or to the cacophony of horns sounding off in their wake. His eyes squinted into slits, and his lips pulled back into a massive grin.

“I just wish he could roll the windows up,” Geoff lamented. “He can roll them down all fucking day, but he hasn’t figured out up yet.”

“You’re not worried about him losing his head or anything?”

“He’d fucking deserve it if he did.” Geoff took a corner far too sharply, which jerked Jeremy’s seat belt taught, and caused Ryan to shift a few inches backwards. Jeremy’s heart pounded fearfully, but aside from the soft grunt of surprise, Ryan didn’t react. “However, I’d lose my fucking head if anything happened to him. Jack and the others love the fucker way too much for me to let anything happen to him.”

“Fuck, I don’t want anything to happen to him, and I barely know him!” Jeremy swatted Ryan’s hindquarters and failed to dodge his wagging tail.

“He can take care of himself, you know. He’s got his own track record down at the LSPD.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep.” Geoff took one hand off the steering wheel and painted a broad arc in the air between himself and Jeremy. “Says something like ‘Warning: Dangerous Animal. Reports that Fake AH Crew has been seen with large black dog. Identifying as having white markings on the face, purportedly like a skull. Considered incredibly dangerous.’ I had Gavin pull it up a few weeks back. We’re all very fucking proud.” A little bit of the mirth slipped out of Geoff’s face at the last word. “Though, personally, I’m not too fond of the ending.”

“C’mon, it can’t be that bad.”

“Yeah, ‘Shoot to kill on sight’ is fucking amazing.”

Jeremy flinched. “Okay, yeah, that’s pretty bad.”

There was a slight scrabbling from behind them, and Ryan’s large furry head pushed its way in between the two of them. His nose flicked over the touch screen for a few seconds, which Geoff very much did not appreciate, and then his tongue lapped over Jeremy’s cheek.

“Agh, Ryan! No!”

“Fucking fuck, he’s started the fucking navigator!” Geoff tried to push the wolfdog out of the way and frantically jammed his fingers into the screen.

‘Head east, then make a right,’ said the robo-voice before Geoff could do anything.

“Fucking – shut up!”

Jeremy covered his mouth with both hands, desperately trying to muffle his laughter. His reflection steadily turned redder and redder. Ryan grinned up at him and winked. His snorts grew louder and more hysterical.

God, he wasn’t even in the main six yet, and he already didn’t want to leave.

“Fucking Christ, you look like Prince vomited on a traffic cone,” said Geoff.

Jeremy ignored him for the time being in favor of looking himself in the mirror. His new Stetson rested proudly on his head, and stood out in stark contrast to his crisp purple jacket. That, in turn, clashed beautifully with his neon orange slacks. Was it horrific to look at? Of course it was. Was it memorable? Of course it was!

“C’mon, Geoff, that’s the point! What was it you said? You’ve got a…fucking…eccentric villain thing going on, right? If this isn’t eccentric, I’ll eat this fucking hat.” He pushed his Stetson up with his thumb and beamed.

“We’re a bunch of weirdos, yeah, but…” Geoff jabbed Jeremy’s chest with his index finger. “That outfit can be seen from fucking space. Even we’re not dumb enough to wear stuff like that.”

“Guess that just makes me really fucking dumb.”

Geoff stared at him for a few moments before sighing. “You really will fit in with this crew, Dooley. None of those fuckers listen to me, either.”

Jeremy grinned and tugged on his lapels. “Speaking of, aren’t they supposed to be back now?”

“Yeah. Hopefully they got everything for tomorrow.”

He blinked. “Tomorrow?”

Geoff walked past Jeremy and patted him on the shoulder. “Didn’t I tell you? We’re heisting tomorrow.”

Jeremy’s stomach dropped down to his feet. His throat tightened until he thought he was going to puke. “Tomorrow? But…didn’t we just get everything together?”

Geoff shrugged without turning around. “No use sitting on it for too long. It’ll just let the rumor mill circulate too much, especially since Michael decided to break into Zancudo to get the tank. The last thing we want is for those fuckheads to bail on us, or worse, have a way to defend themselves. I want this to be revenge, not a goddamn suicide mission.”

For a few moments, Jeremy couldn’t speak. He knew they would be enacting their revenge soon, but he thought he still had some time to prepare. He thought he’d have a week, or at least a few days to collect himself before standing beside his idols and tearing their enemies a new asshole. This revelation was especially jarring. He felt like a kid who’d been surprised by a sudden midterm out of nowhere.

“I…I guess that makes sense,” he finally said.

Geoff turned and looked at him. His smile had slipped somewhat, and he moved to clap Jeremy on the shoulder again. “Hey, don’t worry about it. You’ll be fine.”

Jeremy mentally shook himself and smiled again. “Yeah, I know, it’s just, uh, you know, jitters or some shit.”

“Hey, look at it this way. By tomorrow, you’ll be blowing up shit all over Los Santos and striking fear into the hearts of the bastards who hurt you.”

“Thanks, Geoff. That’s really helpful.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved his hand and opened the door to Jeremy’s temporary room. “Dinner’ll be in an hour. Then we’ll go over the plan again, and break for the day. Sound good?”

“Sounds great, Geoff.”

With that, the Fakes’ boss left the room. Jeremy was fully prepared to lay on the bed and contemplate the next day for an hour, but after only five minutes, something scratched at the door. Jeremy laughed, got up and opened the door. Ryan sat in the threshold. His paw lowered back to the ground, and he stared up at Jeremy with wide blue eyes.

“Dinner’s not for an hour, buddy. Besides, I don’t exactly think I have full access to the penthouse yet.” Ryan didn’t relent. He moved forward and pawed at the hem of Jeremy’s jacket. “Okay, I don’t speak wolf. The fuck do you want?” He leaned down and rubbed behind Ryan’s ears. The pup whined and pawed him again.

Something in Jeremy’s brain clicked. “Is this about the heist? Are you worried about us?” Ryan’s tail wagged, and he put his paws on Jeremy’s thighs, forcing his face right up against Jeremy’s. “We’ll be fine. You’ll get the penthouse to yourself, too. Well, almost to yourself.” Ryan whined again. His eyes bored into Jeremy’s. “Oh. That’s it, isn’t it? You don’t want to be left behind.” Ryan let out a bark.

Geoff and Jack had reached this particular decision when he and Jeremy got back from their errands. Jack didn’t want him in the chopper in case it went down, and Geoff didn’t want him going deaf from listening to the tank firing. And neither of them wanted Ryan to suffer avoidable injuries. Thus, while the main crew went heisting, Ryan would be staying at home with some members of the B-Team. Now that he thought about it, Jeremy realized Ryan had been antsy ever since then.

“Is he bothering you, too?” Jeremy flinched and looked up. Michael stood in the hallway. His arms were folded over his chest, and he jerked his head down at Ryan. “He’s been going door to door for fucking hours now.”

“I think he’s upset about being left behind tomorrow,” said Jeremy.

“Of course it is. Asshole hates being left at home.” Michael reached down and patted Ryan’s rump. “He’s as much a part of the crew as anybody else.”

“You think he’ll be okay staying here?”

“He’ll be fine. It’s Matt and Trevor I’m worried about.” Before Jeremy could ask, Michael said, “He’s always been a dick to his babysitters.”

“That’s not surprising.”

“No kidding.”

Jeremy bit his lip and finally gathered enough moxy to speak. “So, uh, how do you feel about tomorrow?”

“What do you mean?”

“Uh…well…okay, here’s how it is, right? Tomorrow’s my first fucking heist with the crew, and if I don’t make a good impression…” He sighed. “I’ve been watching you guys for years now, and I never thought I’d get as far as…this.” He gestured around the room. “I guess…I’m scared of losing it.”

Michael considered him for a few moments. “That’s fucking dumb.”

Jeremy blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You’re going to be fine, Li’l J! You managed to fly a fucking plane while shot full of holes, and crashed it right into our fucking penthouse! If you can do that, there’s nothing you can’t do.”

A warm feeling ignited in Jeremy’s chest. “You, uh, you really think so?”

“Well, nothing might be the wrong word for it, but…well…” Michael shrugged. “Just don’t worry about it.”

“Sure. I’ll get right on that.”

Michael laughed and headed back down the hallway. As soon as he was gone, Jeremy went and flopped down on his bed. Moments later, another weight sank down upon it, and Ryan’s wet nose pressed into his cheek. His lips twitched for a second, and let his hand rest on Ryan’s stubby ear. He shut his eyes and did his best to relax into the bed.

Tomorrow was going to be a long ass day.