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Who: John Sheppard & Ianto Jones
What: Extremely Serious Guard Dog Adoption
When: Early October
Where: Olympia
Warning(s): None!

John has what could be generously described as part of a plan.

He knows what the end looks like, it's the connecting tissue he's really missing. It's Sunday morning, and he's already been for a run and come back for a shower -- is mulling over the best way to try and steer Ianto in the right direction without being instantly overt about it. He's still in the process of making coffee, and John watches him thoughtfully as the room begins to fill with the strong scent of something freshly ground.

"You up for a trip out into Olympia today?" he tries, because maybe he'll get away with being vague. "Just some light recon. I could use a second opinion on some things."

There, space for Ianto to assume something. Like clothes, or furnishings, or something. Actually, they could probably use some of that too. He glances around the place thoughtfully, frowning as he weighs up how boring and annoying both shopping for new sheets might be.

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"I think she's been started, at least. Hey, hey paws. Watch them!"

He picks her up and spins her onto her back, ruffling her tummy and saving himself from her paws for a few minutes.

"We'll need a crate she won't get too big for."

Which means it won't be small, as she's a puppy now but she'll grow into a big dog. He squints around up at the counter, and the man behind it gives a half shrug before closing his magazine -- stepping out and walking along the shop.

"She'll be a big dog, so -- a big crate. You want a puppy pen too?"

Ianto glances down at John as he wrangles the puppy and wonders just how long a puppy pen might keep her.

"If we had any doorways in the apartment, it might be worth looking into a gate," he muses aloud. "But I'm not sure that a puppy pen will do very much for very long. She looks like she'd be able to outsmart and outgrow one faster than we'd be able to find room for it."

“Maybe we can aspire to that in the new place then as well,” Ianto quips dryly, glancing back at John again.

"Aspire to what? Doorways?"

He flickers a smile as she squirms back the right way up and bounds to press her front paws on his chest, tail wagging enthusiastically as John ruffles at her fur.

"But I guess just a crate for now, then. With a blanket or something, and I guess a cover."

You know, so night-time can be artificially induced if she won't settle down.

"What's your favourite colour?" he prompts of her, and she yaps excitedly in his face causing him to wince. "I don't think that's a colour."

Ianto cracks a smile back at John in response to his quipping. Yes, doorways. Well done, John, he's pleased that you caught on to his dumb little joke, that you smiled at it even though it was stupid.

Ianto's just glancing about the store and trying to envision just how big this big dog crate is going to be and where exactly it's going to fit in their little room when the puppy yaps at John and he winces in response the the noise as well.

"Are you asking her or me?" he prompts. "Because I will remind you that dogs have limited color vision. I'm not really sure that she cares."

Not sure she cares! John shoot Ianto a disapproving look, ruffling at the puppy's mane reassuringly.

"Well she may not see the colours the same way you do, but she still interprets them in her own way. I think she's still capable of having a favourite colour."

Even if it's more a shade than a true interpretation of it. Don't let your dreams be dreams, little dog! You can have any colour you desire, even if you can't see it properly!

He raises an eyebrow at John's response, the look on his face suggesting he thinks that the other man may be more than a little ridiculous but that he's also ridiculously fond of him regardless of that fact. Really now, John.

"Well you can tell her that her choices are limited to what selection there is in stock for now," Ianto quips right back at him, as he steps aside to take a look at what all it is that the shop does have in terms of what they're looking for.

"Maybe we should get her to try out each one. You know, like a Goldilocks dog."

If you're going to make fun of him for it he's just going to make it worse, Ianto. Don't think you can shame him into letting this go. John wraps his arms around the little dog and moves to stand up, puppy wriggling in his arms.

"We can find out which bed is too hard, which one is too soft, all of that."

The shopkeeper, who clearly is on Ianto's side with this being ridiculous, shoots John a flat glance before gesturing at two folding crate kits then up onto the shelves at blankets. These ones are big enough. Take your pick.

Ianto is grateful that the shopkeeper is siding with him and not humoring the other man for being ridiculous. Who knows what they could walk out of there with otherwise.

"We can find out which bed fits in our apartment," Ianto retorts, "and whether or not it's going to break the budget. She's a baby, she hasn't even lived long enough to have a preference one way or the other. Come on."

He steps up to where the shopkeeper had gestured, squinting at the blankets before plucking one off of the piles. It's plain gray, but soft and quilted. It feels like it'll be comfortable enough for her to snuggle with while not being too difficult to clean after the fact. Ianto takes a step toward John and the puppy with the blanket in hand, raising his eyebrows in question.

"Well, then, Goldilocks?" he asks John. "How's this for size?"

John hums under his breath as if considering it, carrying the puppy closer to the blanket. She squirms in his grip, trying to lean out toward Ianto and what he's holding.

"I dunno, what you thinking girl? Too big? Too small?"

She snuffles at Ianto, more interested in him than the blanket in truth.

"You don't think grey's too boring?" he prompts. Too boring might be relative when you're a puppy, but maybe it's not only the puppy's opinion that John is thinking about after all.

Ianto runs a hand over the blanket, shrugging slightly as he does.

"I think it's soft and warm, and that she'll probably chew holes in it and that we'll have to get a new one before she's grown," Ianto replies. "This one will be easy to wash, and grey is an easy neutral." It hasn't got giant garish dog patterns all over it -- Ianto's not about to choose a blanket with spots or pawprints or bones printed all over it, no sir, no way.

He shifts his hand to pet the puppy again as she sniffs at him before glancing back up at John himself. "It's her first blanket, but it'll hardly be her last. I think grey suits her just fine, don't you little one?"

The puppy wriggles and sniffs at the edge of the blanket, and John finally admits defeat. Even if he doesn't really mind paw-prints or spots or bones.

"Guess I'm outvoted on this. Grey blanket it is, and -- whichever of this crates is sturdiest."

He moves to set down the puppy and begins checking the options, trying to work out if one looks heavier or easier to set up.

"Anything else on the list for today?"

Along with blanket and crate, that is. How much can they carry? John supposes maybe if he carries the crate then Ianto can carry the smaller things? Bowls and blankets or whatever?

Ianto ticks down his mental list and settles on something for the puppy to eat out of.

"Bowls," he murmurs aloud, beginning to wander over to that section of the store. "Food and water. And something to put down underneath it to protect the floor," he adds, glancing back at the puppy knowingly. "Or we could get a fountain? Those are a little harder for her to tip over..."

And they wouldn't have to fill it up every other second after she did.

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