An Exchange of Prisoners

Glen Murphy's home is not exactly the Ritz. He lives in a cheap apartment near Bunker's, and most of the stuff in it is secondhand, half-broken, or just shabby in general. It doesn't matter, though - because Murphy's a cost-cutter and it suits his lifestyle. The man is currently out at the corner store fetching some groceries. He hasn't been gone long and he's consciously decided not to lock up for matters of ease, which makes it ridiculously easy for him to get unwanted visitors. It's not like he'd get any, though. Right?

Kate's nose brought her back here, following the scent she had learned all too well between the argument on the beach, and then the other, awkward night at the bar. She's still in bloodhound form, though she's got a mini-dress tied around her neck loosely like some sort of puppy bandana, something to change into easily. Once she confirms this is his place, she does a quick dance around on big puppy paws to see if there is a window open. No luck. A fast look to the stairwell and she's changed back into being human, slipping into that little sundress and grabbing a pin from the side of it. She is about to try and pick the lock… but the door just.. Opens! Awesome. She slips in carefully, rubbing her prints free from the door as she goes

Outside and just down the street, the store door is opened and a little jingly bell hung on the frame jingles to herald the exit of Murphy, who is now in possession of a plastic bag equipped with milk, hamburger meat, and a couple of other sundries. He whistles absently as he makes his way back towards his apartment building, totally unaware of the fact that he's got a visitor. Hell, he isn't even paying attention with his nose.

Kate is inside. She closes her eyes, drawing in a deep, sharp sniff. She might not quite have a blood hound's nose in this form, but her scent is always sharp. Mm.. Guy. It almost smells good to the pertpetually single Kate. She shakes the thoughts off and goes hunting, following stranger, more chemical scents. That's when she sees the stash on the fridge. Bingo. This would be worth the return of her favourite pair of daisy dukes! Kate grabs it down off the fridge and shoves it in the little front pocket of her skimpy sundress. A heartbeat later and she's changing back down to her far more innocent form. She shakes her head a bit and scampers backwards, catching the dress around her throat again, like the 'scarf' it was before. Once that's done, she beings to head for the door and hopeful escape.

The door of the apartment building is opened, and Murphy starts up the steps. He takes them impatiently, two-at-a-time, and just speeds his way up to the third floor… where he comes face to face with his door, which is partially ajar. Huh. He stares for a few seconds before setting down the grocery bag and then starts towards the door, quite suddenly kicking at it to slam it all the way open. If Kate's unlucky, he'll get it to catch right across her fuzzy head.

It is not Kate's lucky day. A few minutes earlier and she would have been fine, home free! But, alas, she is not, and just as she is approaching the door he kicks it in. She doesn't full in get it in the head, but her maw is slammed into the edge of the door, jerking her face hard to the side and illicting a loud yelp of pain from droopy blood hound face. She growls a moment later, jerking around, trying to find a position where she can quickly scamper through or past his legs and out the door!

"Y'all better not have stolen anything!" Not like he has anything worth stealing. Murphy is surprised, though, to see that his intruder is a dog - and a dog he recognizes. "What the— what the hell are you doin' here, woman?" He doesn't seem to be sorry for clocking Kate in the muzzle, and the utterly unrepentant man kicks out again at the canine in an effort to keep her within the limits of his property. Lucy, you got some asplainin' to do.

For just a moment there is reeling, absolute fear through Kate's body. She's been caught AND recognized. There was nothing to do now but get the hell out of dodge as quickly as possible. So, though he does catch her back hip a bit, she just scampers a touch to the side and continues running, straight through his thin legs, out the door, down the hall. Running for her life. It very well might depend on it!

"Aw, hell." Well, THAT didn't work. Murphy, for lack of better options, just hauls off his t-shirt and tosses it into his apartment before - bam! - there goes his own shift. In no time at all a big, heavyset mutt is barreling down the hall after the bloodhound, running full tilt with his nails scrabbling at the floor.

Eep! Kate would hate to admit to herself she finds this as thrilling as she does horrifying, but as she realizes there's another -dog- chasing her… Dammit, her tail wags just a bit. It's practically play time, and she had the ball. Well, rock. Stash. What have you. Still, canine instincts are slightly in charge and she's far less scared of a mutt than she is a man who could hold a shot gun. She dashes out, down near the closest park area, seeing how much he can keep up. Was he as fit as her?

Possibly not. Murphy isn't a couch-potato - not really. But he doesn't have a gym membership and most of his exercise is had doing his day job. The mongrel is a bit slower and less built for running, so he trails behind Kate as she moves along with her fleeing, but the one thing he's got on his side is that he isn't stopping. He's just following her, letting out a deep, irritated bark every few lunges.

Kate is realizing that she's gaining ground, but not too quickly. She had to make a decision before her own two pack a day habit got to her, even in this form. She continues dashing, through the park, down near the water by the river, straight into a thicket of trees deep enough she can practically disappear. She's probably going to end up with some sort of poison ivy or poison oak for it, but it's enough time to buy her a few seconds to change. To properly slip on that dress. She then stands there, a few feet from the water. "Stop!" She calls to him, fingertips reaching down, grabbing that stash in her pocket. Her bargining chip.

Murphy comes skidding to a halt once he catches up and sees the woman and. And. Oh, shit. He can smell it. The expression is clear on Murphy's face and in his body language, even though he's still a dog. His tail abruptly drops from its high carriage and curls down between his legs, his head lowering slightly as he starts to sidestep a little, attempting to circle Kate and eye up any weaknesses without actually getting any closer to her.

Kate keeps her fingertips in her pocket a few moments, though the scent is there and she can read his language. She stares down at him quietly. "You go back home. Get my shorts… the ones you stole from the beach, and bring them right back here. We'll make the exchange. Otherwise? This shit goes in the river." She seems dead serious. If he could smell honesty on her, she'd definitely be scenting nothing but truth. Her shorts back, or his stash was grass.

The dog actually circles far enough for one of his front paws to end up in the river's muddy bank, his weight squishing it down a little and matting his fur. However, he doesn't seem to accept the deal. Not yet, anyway. Instead he just sits down at the edge of the water and tilts his head up and to the side, looking quizzically up at Kate. It might have something to do with the fact that his sides are heaving. Murphy is tired, dammit!

Kate stares down at him, smirking just a bit. "Oh, don't try that cute act on me. It won't work. You want this? Go fetch my fucking shorts." Kate's New York voice smirkingly states. She's not falling for it, even if he looks so pettable and cute, panting like that, ears up and tail down. She keeps her fist tightly balled around his stash. "hell, Maybe you shouldn't get them. This stuff'll kill you anyway. Better I dump it all."

Oh, no no no. The dog's tail thumps anxiously when Kate returns to the idea of throwing away his stash, the anxiousness clear in the set of his ears - along with some irritation at being told to fetch. It's undignified! Murphy gets to his feet again and starts to pace a little bit closer, tail wagging in the typical doggy 'let's be friends!' way, his posture slouched. Of course, he makes sure to move slowly. No point in provoking the crazy lady.

Kate shakes her head almost violently. "No. The shorts. Seriously, man. I came down here with like… A back pack. I need my fucking clothes." Kate growls out, that canine anger still a bit clear in her voice. She steps closer to the water, so one of her sandaled feet sloshes in mud, as she grabs the stash out and actually holds it over the river. It would be dropped in if he made on wrong move.

Alarm! Murphy stops moving immediately and drops down to his belly, his head cushioned by grass as he looks up at Kate. Nope. He's not going to keep going in her direction. After a couple of tense seconds he pushes up again and turns, starting to trot back off towards his apartment building with his tail whooshing around behind him in an easygoing wag (though it's a bit less cocky than it usually is). In no time at all he's out of sight.

Kate waits, a touch more relaxed, exhaling a breath she didn't even realize she was holding when he finally gives in and begins to trot back to his apartment. She sinks her fingertips back in her pocket, still holding that stash tight, but she doesn't keep it in danger of going straight down into the water. She just watches and waits, looking almost a bit noble in her pride of having outsmarted him to get her shorts back.

If Murphy knew what Kate was thinking, he'd certainly have a lot to say about whether or not he's been outsmarted. The dog reappears in a matter of minutes, holding the sought-after shorts in his mouth. Returning as a human would obviously just be too much hassle, and this way has the bonus of letting him drool all over the damn things on his way. In fact, they're pretty well soaked by the time the mutt walks up towards Kate, his tail wagging happily. They may also have toothmarks.

Still being careful, Kate returns the drugs to their place over the water as her other hand reaches out…"That's it. Just… put the shorts here, in my hand… Let go… and these are all yours…" She nods towards the stash, leaning down to make it a bit easier for both of them to make the exchange with him still in doggie form. Hopefully the shorts are still -wearable-, if nothing else.

Oh, if only it were that easy. Murphy lets the woman get hold of her clothes again, but instead of letting go he drops his shoulders and wags his rump around in the typical play-posture, tugging at the garment and shaking his head from side to side. It's not enough to damage the jeans - probably - but any serious tug-of-war game to follow very well might.

Kate smirks, letting go of the jeans and standing up. She is not playing tug of war with her only pair of jean shorts she packed for this little vacation! She just stands straight, stepping a bit closer again to the water, drugs so much closer to being caught by the tide. "Seriously, Murph, it's not that hard. You really are as mature as a second grader with a crush."

The mutt seems to wilt like a dejected flower in a rainstorm when his playtime is refused, every part of him appearing absolutely despondent. His eyes, though - despite the fact that they're wide, sorrowful puppy eyes, he's got them focused on the drugs instead of Kate's face. He slowly lies down again in a sphinx position, dropping the shorts over his forelegs and then just staying there. C'mon. Take 'em.

Kate leans over, so carefully, reaching out to try and snatch the shorts off of his forelegs as quickly as possible and then jerk back. If she manages it, she will toss his stash to rest between his legs the split of a heartbeat later. She might be crazy, but she's good for her word. She also gives him a touch of a smile, "…If you brought something that -wasn't- my clothing… I'd play for a while. Just not my shorts. Seriously, dude… I had no room to pack anything to move here. Do you want to BUY me new clothes? The Red Cross certainly isn't!"

Murphy dips his head promptly to try to grab them back, but unfortunately Kate manages to end the game with a quick hand. His sulk only lasts as long as it takes for the baggie to land safely, though, which sends his tail to wagging. He then tips his head up and starts to BARK BARK BARK at the woman, ears perking. No, he's not going to buy you clothes, you psychopath.

Kate folds her shorts almost delicately in her hand, wincing as she feels exactly how damp they are. Damn, she was going to have to wash those. Her one nice offer for the day made, that of a game of tug should he find something else, she shrugs, "Your loss. Good doing business with you." She states casually, and then turns upon the ball of her foot, shorts carefully tucked in her hands, and she begins to walk back away towards where ever she has stashed her car.

Once Kate's back is turned, Murphy takes advantage of the opportunity to shift back and seat himself at least somewhat modestly on the ground. "An' just what am I s'posed to do with this now? Run back home naked with it? I don't think no one's gonna take nicely to an unlicensed dog runnin' round with drugs in his mouth, y' crazy bitch."

That pauses her. Kate slowly turns back to him, standing several safe feet away now, though. She looks down at him. "Well, I just guess you'll have to run fast. What, do you expect me to carry your drugs for you back home and put them on your pillow with a little mint, or something? You started this mess. I finished it." Kate nods flatly, turning on the ball of her foot and beginning to head back away again.

"Aw, don't be like that. I didn't mean nothin'." But yes. Yes, Murphy does expect Kate to carry his drugs home for him. The next time she turns around there's a bit of rustling behind her as the man shifts again and then plucks up the baggie delicately in his mouth, his tail curling up while he trots after her and then thunks his head in against her side, nosing up at her nearest hand. Take it! Carry it! You of the pockets.

Kate is too damn nice for her own good. She keeps her shorts tucked in her opposite arm, hugged against her chest like a foot ball she's trying to make a winning touchdown run down the field with. But her other arm is free, and she groans, rolling her eyes and finally accepting the drugs. She slips them into her pocket. "Fine, fine…I'm too damn nice. You owe me a fucking beer." But, as long as he doesn't cause a total russle, she begins following with him back towards his apartment.

Murphy barks happily and prances around in front of the woman a little, wriggling like an overexcited puppy and barking like one to boot. He slips in and out beside Kate's legs and then starts trotting off towards his place, alert and obnoxious as ever.

As usual with Murphy, he's just a bit too damn cute to hate. Kate rolls her eyes, sighing a bit and unable to help but smile as she watches him. "You're a total doofus, you know that…" She mutters quietly as they walk, it not taking TOO long to get up to his apartment, inside again, the door probably not shut yet. She only steps just inside, long enough to grab his stash, clean her prints off of it with her shorts, and toss it onto his table. "Done."

Not five steps into his place Murphy drops the dog act and gets back to his feet, setting his hands on his hips and cracking his back with a grimace thanks to all the running back and forth he's been doing. "I ain't a doofus. And if y'all try to steel my stuff again I'll bite you in the ass, you got me? Right on that fine ass. Might do it just 'cause."

"You don't touch any of my stuff, I won't touch any of yours. This was fair game. Hopefully it's over now." Otherwise, it's war. That's the look in her eyes, matching the faintly amused grin on her pink mouth. Her terms set, Kate quickly turns on the ball of her foot and walks out the door, shutting it tight after her. Hopefully that was that. She had some laundry to go do!

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