It made sense; the ugly fuck didn't have much of a tail.
"Shit! Dudley, come back!" Danielle lunged, stopping him from jumping into the urinal, which was fortunate for both him and us, except while executing her Olympic medal worthy stretch, she ripped her dress, rolled her ankle, and fell to the floor with a thud.
"Fuck all the shits. Damn it! OwOwOw."
I took Pugly from her and secured him by hooking my finger under his collar, holding him at arm's length like a seasoned dog-catcher. "Are you okay?"
She nodded and wrapped both hands around her ankle, rocking back and forth, tears welling in her eyes. "Yeah."
"Stop lying."
She nodded again, and a tear fell down her cheek.
"Fuck, don't cry. It's okay. I've got you." Lifting Pugly, I placed him in her arms then lifted her into mine. "Let's get you back to the apartment so I can take a better look at it."
"Okay. I wholeheartedly agree that he needs train- Owwwww!"
"Sorry," I said, wincing as I tightened the bandage I was strapping to her foot. "Is that tight enough?"
"Yes. Any tighter and the friggin' thing will fall off."
I rubbed it, gently. "And, yeah, he does need training. Sooner rather than later."
"Did you move all of your clothing to higher ground before you put him back in the laundry?"
"Yes. Don't worry about it. I'm more concerned about this ankle. You do realise you can't drive, right?"
"Yeah."
"You're more than welcome to stay here."
"It's fine. I'll get a taxi home."
"Danielle!" I said, sternly. "I have a spare room. You can crash here."
"What about Dudley?"
"He can sleep outside."
"Outside?" Her eyebrows near hit the roof. "As in … on the balcony?"
"Yep."
She frowned the kind of frown you'd give the Grinch at Christmas.
"I'm kidding," I laughed. "He can sleep with you, or in the laundry. Whatever suits you best." What the fuck am I saying?
Clearly, I was saying anything to get her to stay. I didn't want her to leave. Not now, not ever. Sure, our first date had been unorthodox, but that didn't matter. I'd really enjoyed spending the evening with her.
"I don't know, Lots. Dudley and I have caused you so much grief already." Dudley, yes. You, not so much.
"You're not driving home or catching a taxi." I fastened the bandage with a clip. "If you really don't want to stay, that's fine. I'll drive you home and catch a taxi back here instead."
"No! I can't ask you to do that." She shuffled backward, sitting straighter on the couch, her leg resting on my lap, my hand resting on her leg. "If you're really sure it's okay, then I'll stay. Dudley can sleep in the laundry. He's been bad and needs to be punished."
I tried not to laugh at her pathetic attempt at discipline. I also tried not to jump on the couch and impersonate Tom Cruise.
Gently rubbing her foot again, I reassured her. "I'm sure."
She smiled then playfully punched my arm. "Okay. It will be just like that one time you were allowed to sleepover. Please tell me you still have Batman pyjamas."
Heat rushed to the surface of my entire fucking head.
"Oh my God!" she shrieked. "You do, don't you?"
"I do not."
"Yes, you do! You're lying. I can tell."
I lied. "I'm not."
"I thought we said no more lying, Elliot," she huffed, mimicking my voice.
"We did."
I remained impassive, so she pouted then sighed. "Too bad. I was gonna ask if I could sleep in them."
Check-Fucking-Mate. She'd successfully and quite easily outwitted me.
"I have Batman boxer shorts," I admitted. "You can sleep in them."
"Fine. Do you have a matching t-shirt?"
I did, but I'd prefer she not wear it. "No. You don't need it. Trust me, it's better to sleep topless. I do it all the time."
Dodging the cushion she swung at my head, I caught it on the return swing. "If I remember correctly, we played Truth or Dare the night I slept over."
Danielle tapped her chin. "Hmm … yes, we did. Why?" she said with a smile. "Do you wanna play?"
"Well … it is tradition."
"So is wearing Batman PJ's."
"But if you're wearing them, how can I wear them?"
"Easy. I won't wear them."
"What will you wear?"
"My underwear."