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Ice honestly isn’t sure what, exactly, he’d been expecting upon his entrance to the kitchen—an explosion of some sort, a new construction project that would go unfinished until Ice got annoyed with it and called a professional in to finish it, a dead body—honestly, the possibilities were endless—but it isn't almost being bowled over by a black and brown blur that’s covered in something dark and wet and Maverick yelling at said blur, that upon closer inspection, is a dog. More specifically, a puppy. Even more specifically, a puppy that's covered in mud. And getting said mud all over Ice’s freshly pressed uniform.
“Maverick.” Ice manages, trying to wrestle away from the eager puppy, who’s tongue is hell bent on licking every square inch of his face. He doges an overexcited attempt at his eyeball, narrowly avoiding getting blinded by an uncoordinated paw. “Why is there a dog in our house?”
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Maverick adopts a dog and Ice is just a long for the ride.
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