9. Cookies For The Quarrelling

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The dogs run over to Ransom once he steps out of the car and they start barking at him. You know they just smell Dodger's scent and go into overprotective mode.

"No! No, no, no! Hey! Hey! Hey! Stop. Stop," Ransom discourages the dogs, dodging as they jump up at him.

"Down," you say firmly but kindly. The dogs stop and come to you, sitting at either side of you. You smile and pet their heads.

"Why do they like you so much better?" Ransom pouts.

"Probably because I don't smell like Dodger right now," you gesture to his sweater. It has small holes and tears in it, caused by Dodger and him playing.

He smiles slightly as you walk over to him. He wraps his arm around your waist once you're close enough for him to do so. He walks towards the house with you.

Lieutenant Elliott and Trooper Wagner walk out the front door, blocking your path. "Hugh Drysdale?" Elliott inquires.

"Ransom. Call me Ransom, it's my middle name," he responds, taking off his sunglasses with the hand not holding you next to him, "only the help calls me Hugh."

He keeps walking with you, right past Elliott and Wagner and into the house.

"Okay..." Elliot trails off, slightly baffled by Ransom's behavior, "Uh, this is Trooper Wagner." Ransom stops walking and lets go of your waist to turn around to them. "I'm Lieutenant Elliott. We just wanna ask a few questions."

Ransom raises his eyebrows and opens his mouth like he's about to respond. Instead, he just sighs and turns back around, wrapping his arm around your waist once more and continuing inside. He takes you directly to the kitchen. Gotta get the boi some snacks.

Elliott and Wagner turn and quickly follow. "Excuse me? Sir? We're officers of the law!" Wagner states.

"You gonna run me in? I don't feel like talking," Ransom calls from the kitchen, "I'm distraught."
You pinch his arm, causing him to look at you in confusion.

"Try to be nice, will ya?" You whisper to him, not needing him to make a bad first impression with your father. He sighs and walks back out with you behind him.

"Hey, Benny, you wanna ask this guy some questions?" the Lieutenant offers.

Before Blanc can respond, Ransom interjects, "All right, what is this? What's this arrangement?"

"Mr. Drysdale," your father begins, Southern drawl as strong as always.

"CSI: KFC?" Ransom asks sarcastically. He finds a way to condescendingly eat a cookie as he walks away. Elliott chuckles.

You sigh and walk beside Ransom, entering the sitting room where the rest of the family is waiting.

"Hey, Frannie, how about a glass of cold milk?"

Ransom requests, more like orders, as he takes a seat. You open your mouth to correct him, but Meg beats you to it. "Hey, asshole. Not her name, not her job."

"Hey, Meg. How's the SJW degree coming?" Ransom asks. Jacob smirks slightly, not looking away from his phone. You sit on the arm of Ransom's chair and smack the back of his head without anyone else noticing.

"Just behave, Ransom," you mutter under your breath tensely.

"Trust fund prick," Meg spits back at him.

"All right, guys," Joni sighs, having enough of the bickering.

"Hey, everyone," Alan Stevens greets. He's the executor of Harlan's will. "I'm just gonna be in the other room, setting up. Be ready in 10 minutes." He leaves as quickly as he entered.

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