Someone knocked on Shane's door while he was in the kitchen spreading printouts across the table, and he was so intent on his work that he didn't hear it at first. It got louder and more insistent, eventually getting his attention, and he went to the door. Who would be knocking on his door for no reason?
A delivery, the man beyond told him, for Shane Marion. He opened the door, keeping it closed partway at first to see if he could identify the man by smell--not Vaughn. He opened it the rest of the way and took the 'delivery'--a dog carrier with a tiny puppy and a stuffed animal inside.
The man waited around a few moments to see if he would get a tip, but Shane had already closed the door, and was holding the carrier a few feet out in front of him, looking at the little thing inside. He set it down on the coffee table and knelt down in front of it, peering in.
The scent of a dog in his apartment prickled a strange sort of territoriality in him. A dog, here? But it faded the longer he stared at it. This tiny thing wasn't a threat. It needed taking care of.
He finally pulled the note off the top of the carrier, read it, smiled briefly, reflexively. Seamus, what a terrible name for a girl.
He reached in and touched the top of her head with one finger. She yawned, and he pulled his hand back, startled, as she wriggled and rolled over on the cow, settling back into sleep. It was another long moment before he realized he was still staring at the damn dog, and that he was smiling without thinking about it.
He was going to need to spend some of his research time on how to take care of a puppy.