Liz Gillies Requests

Lucy (Liz&Michael)

Liz's POV
Michael and I are walking out of the restaurant and down the street to the car after our date night.

"Thank you for dinner." Michael says, kissing the side of my head.

"You're welcome. You know I like to swipe my card every once in a while. When you actually let me." I laugh.

"Well I also like to swipe my card, so we have to take it in turns." Michael chuckles.

"Come here." I tug his hand and pull him down an alleyway.

"Wow, I didn't think you were the type to be fooling around in a dark, shady alley. Then again, it's not totally unlike-" Michael rambles.

"Shh!" I hush him and he holds his hands up in defence.

"What are we doing, Liz?" Michael whispers.

"Do you hear that?" I whisper to him.

"Hear what?" Michael asks.

"That?" I ask again.

"Not really?" Michael frowns.

"I think it's over there." I whisper.

"What are you talking about?" Michael asks.

"Be quiet!" I tell him, walking towards the sound.

"Babe, that's a cardboard box. Are you feeling okay?" Michael asks.

"That's not a cardboard box. Listen." I say as I hear the whimpering noises getting louder.

"This is weird. Even for you." Michael says and I roll my eyes before opening up the box.

"Oh my... it's a puppy. Michael, look." I hold the box open.

"Poor thing's barely alive." Michael sighs.

"Do you have water?" I ask him.

"Here." He hands me a bottle of water from his coat pocket. "It's shivering."

"Of course it is. It's the middle of winter and the poor baby is tiny." I reach my hand slowly into the box but the puppy moves as far away from me as possible.

"I think you're scaring it." Michael says.

"I don't really know what to do. I've just gotten used to Steve and Bubba." I admit.

"I can try." Michael suggests, stepping forward.

He crouches beside the box and reaches his hand in to stroke the dog.

"It doesn't like it. It's so scared." I say, watching the puppy quiver in the corner.

"Are you thirsty? Here." Michael pours some of the water into his hand and the dog licks it slowly.

"It's probably hungry too." I say.

"We'll take it to the vets." Michael says.

"The vets?" I ask.

"We can't leave it, Liz." Micahel says.

"What are the vets going to do?" I ask nervously.

"It might be chipped and then they can find the owners." Michael says, standing up.

"What if it doesn't have owners?" I ask.

"It likely will. Its fur is in good condition so I think it's just lost." Michael says.

"Are the vets even open? It's nearly eleven PM." I say checking my phone.

"The vets I use for my dogs is open until midnight." Michael says.