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i don’t care what we do (come and cut me in two)

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Okay, so, she probably shouldn’t panic, right? Lucky hasn’t eaten in two days, and he’s been moping around, but, hey—Kate mopes around and doesn’t eat sometimes, too. Granted, it’s usually due to some tragic life event like her dad passing away, or her mom missing her college graduation because she was in France with her newest boy-toy, or the discontinuation of her favorite shampoo.

That’s absolutely tragic for her dark tresses, okay? 

So, maybe Lucky’s feeling down like that. He’s allowed to have bad days, Kate figures. Maybe his dog-friends at the park are going through something and Lucky’s just an empath. Maybe he’s upset because the last pizza he ate had mushrooms on it. Kate was also disappointed by that—it’s totally valid.

Mushrooms don’t belong even in the same room as Kate. Ew.

The more he moped and groaned, the more Kate felt guilty for trying to justify his behavior change. Something’s not right, and Kate wants to be a good dog mom. Sure, she’s new to motherhood, but she knows even animals should go to the doctor sometimes.

“Right, bud?” she asks the Golden Retriever, who stares blankly at her. “Right, then. I’ll get you scheduled somewhere.”

Kate takes her time scanning Yelp for an exceptional veterinary clinic. She wants no less than four-stars. Unfortunately, in New York City, that really doesn’t narrow the search results much. With millions of people living here, Kate guesses the pet count is astronomical, which makes sense why there seems to be a vet on most streets.

“Ugh,” she grumbles, clicking on a clinic not too far from her apartment.

Lucky Day Veterinary Clinic - 4.9/5.0 rating

“Well, the name is certainly fitting,” Kate announces to Lucky before glancing over at him. He’s fast asleep, but Kate is sane enough to know she wouldn’t get a response even if he was awake.

She scrolls past the basic information of the office and stops at the reviews.

Wanda M. ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ 26 days ago

Love this vet’s office! This is the only office my cat isn’t afraid of going to! All the doctors are so kind and you can tell they genuinely care about the animals. If I could give 10 stars, I would.

Kate continues to peruse the raving reviews before she gets to a one-star. 

Kazi K. ⭐️ 9 days ago

tried being nice and asking the pharmacist girl out but she ignored me. took my bulldog and bounced. probably won’t take my dog back if that’s how the rest of the service is going to be.

If her eyes get don’t get stuck from rolling to the back of their sockets, she didn’t fucking roll hard enough.

“Dick,” she mumbles. The five-star reviews by far outweigh the seldom lesser-stars. Kate decides to go with this clinic. It’s close by, and from the photos, looks very clean and welcoming.

She scrolls back up and taps on the phone number, her iPhone automatically dialing. Kate’s thumb moves on autopilot to hit the speakerphone button. It takes a few rings, but eventually, someone picks up.

Lucky Day Veterinary Clinic, this is Hope,” the woman says, her smooth voice echoing in Kate’s loft.

“Hi, uh, yeah, so, I’ve never—my dog’s never been there before, but, um, I think he maybe isn’t… feeling well?” Kate babbles, scratching her head awkwardly. “I was hoping to get him in for an appointment.”

I’m so sorry to hear about that. Let me just check the schedule and see when we can get you in here…” she trails off quietly. Kate hears mouse-clicking and keyboard-clacking in the background.

Lucky groans, and Kate looks up at him, watching for any signs of discomfort as he stretches his legs and rolls onto his back.

Okay, so,” Hope brings her attention back to the call. “We actually had a cancellation this afternoon. Can you be here at five-fifteen?

Blue eyes shift to the time at the top of the phone screen. Kate realizes she has half an hour to get fifteen minutes away. She jumps at the opportunity to get Lucky seen as soon as possible.

“Yeah—yes, definitely. I—we’ll be there,” she tells the receptionist.

The woman on the other end of the phone chuckles. “Perfect! Can I just get your first and last name, and then your pet’s name?

“Katherine—actually, Kate… Bishop,” she stammers. She’s not sure why she even said her full name. She never goes by Katherine.


She hears typing again.

Okay, Kate, and your pet’s name?

Kate winces in embarrassment. “Oh, right, yeah. His name is Lucky. He’s a Golden Retriever,” she informs, despite not being asked his breed.

After a few quick taps, Hope confirms her appointment and they disconnect. Kate lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding in. Lucky’s going to get the help he may (or may not need), a lot sooner than expected.

Kate kicks off from where she was leaning against her kitchen island and crosses the room. Lucky picks his head up, watching curiously as she heads towards the stairs leading to her open, loft-style bedroom.

She quickly ditches her slippers, sheds her work clothes (she’s not fond of walking in a power suit, and she’s not hailing a cab to take her fifteen minutes away), pulls up some loose-fitting jeans, and shrugs on a purple crewneck sweatshirt. She laces up her Doc Martens in record time.

“Okay, it’s…,” her eyes dart toward the clock on her nightstand, “twenty-‘til. That’s plenty of time.”

The brunette jogs back down the metal steps to main floor and pats her leg as she passes by Lucky on her way to the door.

“C’mon, boy,” she encourages. He pops up with a yip and follows Kate out of the apartment.

The walk to the clinic is (unsurprisingly) eventful. It is New York City after all. The glamour that certain TikTokers wash the city in is, for the most part, fabricated. Yes, it’s fun to romanticize, and yes, there certainly are parts of it that Kate absolutely adores, but the average person does not just happen to meet Jimmy Fallon in a café, or even set foot in Times Square just because.

What Kate actually experiences on her walk is two rats duking it out over half a dinner roll, a homeless man calling her a cunt because she told him she only carries cards on her and not cash or change, and, okay, yes, someone is painting a beautiful mural on a restaurant window, but that’s it. That’s the nicest thing Kate sees. Everything else is people power-walking so fast it creates a gust that blows Kate’s hair out of her face, and people looking like they’re talking to themselves when they probably have wireless headphones in (some may actually be talking to themselves though, that’s not uncommon. Kate may be guilty of this. She may also not be guilty of this. The world may never know).

Before she and Lucky know it, they’re in front of Lucky Day Veterinary Clinic. The sign’s bright blue lettering is accompanied by two white paw prints.

Kate promptly leashes up Lucky and walks inside. She’s greeted by the receptionist right away.

“Hi! Kate and Lucky?” she asks, and Kate’s brows shoot up in surprise.

She looks around suspiciously, “Y–Yeah—yes, how’d you know?”

The woman smiles knowingly and leans in like she’s going to tell Kate a secret. Kate hesitantly leans in as well. “I’m psychic…” Kate’s mouth drops open. The woman begins laughing and throws her head back. “I’m kidding! I’m sorry, it’s been a long day. I’m Hope, we spoke on the phone, Kate, and you told me you had a Golden.”

Kate begins to laugh like the joke just now made it to her brain. “Ha, right! You almost got me there,” she tells Hope. They share another chuckle before Hope hands over a form for Kate to fill out.

“You can take a seat and just fill out all the highlighted areas for me, please,” she instructs politely.

The young woman does as she’s told. She sits down and balances the clipboard on her lap as she scrawls in the necessary information. Kate’s not used to writing with pen these days (drawbacks of working with technology, she supposes), and ends up scribbling out a few miswritten words here and there. It’s filled in sloppily at best, but it’s legible… she hopes.

Kate tells Lucky to stay as she goes to hand in the form with a grimace. If Hope notices the hieroglyphs that is Kate’s handwriting, she says nothing about it. The receptionist spins around in her chair and places the clipboard on the counter behind her.

Just then, Kate notices on the wall behind the front desk, there are three framed eight-by-ten portraits with small name plaques beneath each one.

The first one is a beautiful, kind-eyed redhead with a small smile. Her plaque reads Dr. Natasha Romanov, DVM.

The second is a blond, chisel-jawed man with hip eyeglasses and a dazzling, but shy smirk. Dr. Jarvis Vision, DVM.

Interesting name, but okay.

Kate’s baby-blues flick down to the third portrait, and her breath is immediately robbed (basically at gun-point) by this woman in two-dimension. She is absolutely glowing, with her excited, broad grin, and her stunning hazel eyes. Kate wonders if perhaps her hair is woven of pure gold.

She’s the most beautiful woman Kate has ever had the pleasure of seeing—and she’s in scrubs, no less. Kate would’ve never thought anyone could look like a model in scrubs, but, here she is, wrong as the sky is blue. She feels as though maybe she should bow, or curtsy, or hell, even salute at the mere gaze of the woman in the photograph.

Dr. Yelena Belova, DVM, her plaque reads.

“Jesus Christ,” she mutters, slack-jawed. Unfortunately, Hope seems to hear her.

“Hm?” she hums, before following Kate’s stare. “Oh, yes, I know, but before you ask,” she leads, and for some reason Kate holds her breath again. “Yes, Dr. Vision is seeing someone.”

Kate’s face screws up in confusion. “What? I wasn’t going to ask that.”

Just like mushrooms—ew.

While Kate is out and proud as a lesbian, she still often gets mistaken for a straight woman. It’s whatever. She’s not going to cry about it. Anyone can look any which way, and identify with whatever label they want, just don’t assume anything about anyone. That’s Kate’s logic and it works just fine for her.

But what’s not fine to assume is that she was looking at that forty-year old man with hearts in her eyes. Gross. Kate’s sure he can charm his way into a young woman’s pants, but not these ripped jeans. These ripped jeans are now reserved for one (hot) Yelena Belova. Doctor Yelena Belova (even hotter).

Suddenly a question springs to Kate’s mind.

“Can you tell me who Lucky will be seeing today?” Kate tries to play it cool, but nonchalance comes as naturally to her as flying.

Hope smiles nonetheless. “You’ll be seeing Doctor Romanov,” she tells her without even checking the computer.

Kate wants to roll her eyes at her own misfortune, but stops herself before she can begin. She tells herself it’d be ridiculous to try and choose which veterinarian her dog sees.

Right? They’re all obviously qualified.


“Cool, cool, cool, yeah, thanks,” she rambles, tapping her fingers on the desk.

She barely makes it back to her seat when a woman pops out from the hallway and calls out Lucky’s name as if he’s a human. “Lucky Bishop?”

Kate jumps up, grabbing Lucky’s lead. “Yes, we’re Lucky—uh, he’s Lucky… I’m… Kate.”

Why is she the way that she is?

The vet tech smiles, ignoring Kate’s fumble. “Hi, Kate, I’m Laura. We’re going to put you in Room Four, and Doctor will be right in.”

Laura opens the door to the small room, pristinely clean and shiny. Kate thanks her and sits in the chair across from the metal exam table that’s folded out from the wall.

Lucky eyes her and whines anxiously. She gives him a pat and kisses his the crown of his head.

There’s a soft knock at the door, and Kate’s taken aback when a particularly magnificent blonde pokes her head in. The smile that graces her full lips has Kate nearly in cardiac arrest.

God,” she whispers accidentally. Her eyes must be comically wide at this point.

“No,” she counters, chucking as she enters the room fully. “Just me,” Dr. Belova jests. She folds the metal table back up into the wall before kneeling down to an overly-eager Lucky.

Kate doesn’t blame him. She’d be overly-eager if she was going to be pet by Dr. Belova, too.

Hazel meets blue and both women smile. “I’m Doctor Yelena Belova, but you can call me Yelena,” she insists, still scratching behind Lucky’s ears. “My sister was supposed to be in here with you today, but she got stuck in the operating room.”

“Oh, yeah, no, uh, no worries at all,” Kate swallows thickly. Maybe she did have some good luck tucked away somewhere.

Yelena smiles at Lucky as she holds his face in her hands and begins cooing at him.

So, she’s hot, and ridiculously sweet? And obviously smart, if she’s an animal doctor. Kate’s heart flutters. She’s perfect.

“Alright,” Yelena says looking back up at Kate, but occasionally glancing down at Lucky as she speaks. “What’s going on with this gorgeous baby boy today?”

Kate then remembers she’s here for an actual reason, not just to ogle a stranger. “He hasn’t eaten in almost two days,” she informs, worry creeping it’s way onto her features. “He hasn’t been wanting to go for runs, and he barely is drinking any water.”

Yelena studies the Golden Retriever intently and coaxes him into a down position and rolls him onto his back. She uses her stethoscope to listen to his heart, and she lifts up his lip to check his oral hygiene.

Kate can’t even get him to lay down on command, much less by telepathy. She watches as The Sexy Dog Whisperer™ (take that, Cesar Milan) now massages Lucky’s belly with intent.

“What was the last thing he ate?” Yelena asks, making eye contact with Kate. The brunette chooses just now to realize Yelena has some sort of vague Eastern European accent.

Just when this woman reaches her maximum enigma capacity—boom, she surpasses it.

Kate swoons unintentionally. A throat clears.

“Oh! Uh,” Kate recalls the last meal he had. “Mushroom pizza,” she tells her honestly.

Yelena begins to chuckle, but when Kate joins her (what was funny, she wasn’t sure, but she wanted to fit in, okay?) and says nothing else, the vet pauses her ministrations and raises a brow at Kate.

“Wait, seriously?” Yelena asks incredulously.

Kate nods in earnest.

“Missus…” Kate realizes Yelena doesn’t know her name.

She fills in quickly, “Bishop. Kate. Kate Bishop. No missus, I’m single.”

Heat tickles at her cheeks. Kate’s not sure why she absolutely insists on embarrassing herself literally everywhere she goes.

Yelena offers the cutest crooked smile, and Kate just knows she would embarrass herself in front of the entire universe to see it again.

Right,” she drawls in her accent, R rolling off her tongue with an expertise Kate could only dream of. “Kate Bishop, does Lucky always eat table scraps?”

She folds her arms across her chest defiantly. “No…”

Yelena gives her a pointed look.

She swallows her pride. “Okay, yes. He loves pizza, but sometimes we have Chinese, too.”

Yelena gasps like Kate said something scandalous. She hopes she didn’t.

She probably did.

Kate!” she scolds like they’re longtime friends. Kate has never loved her name more than when it’s coming out of this veterinarian’s mouth. “You cannot feed him people-food for meals. I am almost certain he has pancreatitis from this—this junk food diet.

Panic settles into Kate’s chest. How was she supposed to know he couldn’t eat pizza for breakfast and dinner? She’s never owned a pet rock before, much less a living, breathing canine. She looks up at she ceiling and wills herself not to cry. She doesn’t know what pancreatitis is, per se, but it doesn’t sound good.

She feels like an asshole. She feels like a failure.

Mostly, she feels like a bad mother. And she knows more than anything what it feels like to be the child of a bad mother.

A warm hand lands on her knee and she’s startled from her thoughts, a single tear escaping. She swiftly wipes it away and sniffles before meeting a pair of sympathetic hazel eyes.

“S’okay, Kate Bishop, I promise I will fix him up really good for you,” she reassures confidently, giving Kate’s knee a good squeeze before leaning back.

Kate nods, sniffling once more. “Is he—is he okay? Is he,” she pauses, voice cracking, “dying?”

Yelena pats Lucky’s head distractedly. “I don’t think so, but I will know how severe it is when we run the tests. Leave him here overnight and we will call you in the morning, okay?”

A frown forms on the brunette’s lips. She feels awful. Not only is Lucky sick, but he has to stay the night? There’s no way whatever they have in the back is as comfortable as Lucky’s orthopedic bed at home.

“I’m a terrible mother,” she whispers, moving closer to cradle Lucky’s head. “I’m sorry, Luck.”

This time, Yelena’s hand comes to rest on Kate’s arm. “You are a fine mother, Kate Bishop. You obviously didn’t do this on purpose. You didn’t know any better. If it helps you sleep, I will personally perform the tests and stay with him tonight.”

Kate’s arm burns under Yelena’s warmth, and her heart burns at the blonde’s words. She looks up, bleary eyes full of gratitude.

“Thank you, Doctor Belova. I appreciate your help more than you know,” she tells her with a watery smile.

Please, call me Yelena,” the vet insists with kind eyes. “And you don’t have to thank me. It’s what I do.” 



It’s a long eighteen hours of waiting for a phone call. It’s quite annoying really. She misses her Pizza Dog more than she could possibly say. For having found him on the streets only a month ago, they bonded rather quickly.

She’s not sure what his diet was like before becoming a Bishop, but she hopes it wasn’t as bad as it’s been for the last five weeks. If he has eaten leftovers and trash his whole life, Kate read online he could very well die from organ complications.

This thought brings a fresh round of tears every time she remembers it. Even when she’s sure she’s on empty, her tearducts find a way to surprise her. It’s one surprise she doesn’t like.

Kate’s been pacing around her office for at least ten minutes, her typical Wednesday morning meetings with the CEO (her mom) and the other “C-letter-letter members” (as Kate likes to call them) have long since ended, giving her more than enough time to worry over Lucky again.

Her cellphone begins to vibrate violently on her glass desk, the noise immediately drawing her attention from wearing a hole in the seventeenth floor of Bishop Security. She scrambles to answer it, nearly knocking it off the smooth surface.

“Hi—hello, yes,” she stutters, trying to catch her breath.

Hi, this is Laura, I’m calling in regards to Lucky,” Kate hums in acknowledgement and the woman continues. “So, Doctor Belova ran a cPLI test last night, and Lucky’s numbers did come back elevated a little higher than they should be. He was also pretty dehydrated, but Doctor had him on an IV overnight, and he’s actually got some spunk in him today.

A larger-than-life weight lifts from Kate’s body as she hears some positive news. “Oh, thank God,” she breathes, letting loose a nervous chuckle.

Yeah! So, if you wanna come in and pick him up, Doctor can go over discharge instructions with you.”

Kate jumps at the chance to pick up her four-legged friend, hastily agreeing to be there as soon as she can. She pushes the excitement of also seeing Dr. Belova to the back of her mind. Before she gets too happy, she needs to make sure her boy is going to be okay.

Plopping down in her chair, she shoots off a quick email to her boss (again, her mom) letting her know she was taking lunch and would be available via work cell. She doesn’t wait for a response before hightailing it out of there.

(Well, hightailing may be an exaggeration on Kate’s part. She can’t exactly move that quickly when she’s seventeen floors in the sky. Whatever. She digresses.)



It takes a good half-hour before she finds herself staring at her reflection in the window of the clinic. She’s wearing her aunt’s black floral suit Kate borrowed that one time she housesat. She means no offense to her aunt, but Kate definitely pulls it off better with her Doc Martens than her aunt does with her (pointless) one-inch heels.

Kate begins to fluff her hair before breaking herself of it, heat rising to her cheeks from her absentminded primping. She hopes to Hawkeye that the receptionist can’t see through the window she just full-on checked herself out in.

The things she does for sexy dog-doctors…

She swings the door open and enters the clinic. And middle-age woman is holding her pure white cat in her arms as she stands at the front desk, speaking with who Kate remembers as Hope.

Kate takes a moment to survey the waiting area and notices a couple dogs, a cat in a carrier, and an elderly gentleman with a Macaw on his shoulder. She realizes she’s eyeing the bird a little too long when the owner huffs and tips his nose up at Kate, and she can just feel his thick, threatening imaginary Italian accent telling her to mind her own business. She looks away and adjusts her blazer nervously.

The woman in front of her leaves shortly after Kate’s staring contest with the Macaw and Hope recognizes her instantly.

“For Lucky,” she smiles knowingly as she stands up. “We have a room ready and Doctor Belova will be in to discuss treatment any minute.”

Kate’s heart flutters, but she smiles as sanely as possible.

Wonderful,” she tells Hope.

She rolls her eyes internally and feels herself aging ten years from that one word alone. Kate wonders why she can’t have normal human interactions.

She follows the receptionist to a room and waits quietly for her dog and her future wife to appear.

“Shut up,” Kate scolds herself with a harsh whisper. She feels like a child with their first crush. If she was used to using a pen (she cringes thinking of her chicken-scratch from yesterday), she would’ve written KB + YB = ❤️ all over literally any medium that would accept her ink.

She can’t believe she’s a twenty-five-year-old woman who runs (helps run) an international security company and still is thinking like a third-grader. It’s embarrassing, but, thankfully, only in her head.

A soft knock raps on the door before opening. Lucky enters first, tail wagging as he makes a beeline for Kate. She drops out of the chair and to her knees, fluffing Lucky’s fur with extra love.

Doctor Belova enters second, a toothy grin aimed at Kate and her companion as she shuts the door behind her.

“Kate, hi, long time no see,” the blonde jokes. Kate laughs harder than she probably should, but pretty women do that to her. She can’t be blamed.

Still petting Lucky, she replies, “Hi, Doctor Belova—“

Yelena,” she reminds pointedly.

Kate clears her throat, “Yelena,” she corrects with a shy smile. “How’d he do last night?”

For the first time, Kate notices the paper in Yelena’s hand as the woman leans on the metal table to read it over.

“Well,” Yelena starts glancing down at Kate, who’s still on the floor, “His cPLI—Canine Pancreatic Lipase Immunoreactivity—say that three times fast,” she wiggles her perfect brows at Kate, who smirks in return, “Uh, his cPL level came back a little high, just barely past the range we want to see him in.”

Kate nods, taking the information in and simultaneously basking in the accent that curves around every word that comes out of Yelena’s mouth.

“So, he does not have chronic pancreatitis, seems like just a flare up,” Yelena explains.

Kate’s head tilts back toward the ceiling, offing a silent thank you and a puff of a relief.

“What does this mean for him?” Kate asks, looking over at the veterinarian. Yelena teeters her head back and forth, seemingly considering Lucky’s fate.

“Well, for starters, no more—I mean absolutely none—no junk food. It is not good for him. We have some kibble we can send you home with,” she glares at Kate from her spot at the table, and Kate feels herself shrinking. “I can also give you some charcoal biscuits in the event he gets a bellyache.”

Those hazel eyes are something else entirely.

Kate nods in agreement, “Kibble only, charcoal for tummy ache. Got it.”

The veterinarian grins widely at Kate’s easy acceptance. “Thank you. If Lucky could talk, he would thank you, too. Now, if anything else happens outside of his normal behavior, bring him straight here, okay?”

Finally standing up, Kate realizes how much taller she is. She bites on her lips to stop herself from commenting on how hot it is. She settles for being her usual, awkward self.

“I want to hug you, but that’s probably, like, super inappropriate or something,” Kate dismisses herself with a wave and a nervous chuckle.

Yelena smirks and stands up properly, holding her arms out at the brunette, “It is fine. Bring it in.”

Kate tries not to squeal. She embraces the small blonde, and feels strong arms giving her a comforting squeeze.

Kate whispers over Yelena’s shoulder, “Thank you so much.”

Yelena pulls back (boo) but leaves her hands on Kate’s shoulders. She feels like they’re in a huddle of some sort. A love-huddle, perhaps?

“Lucky will do great. You’re a good doggy mama,” Doctor Belova reassures.

Okay, not a love-huddle, but Kate will take it.

The blonde spins Kate around as if to reset her. She leashes up Lucky and reaches for the door, happy Golden in tow.

“Thank you again,” Kate smiles gratefully.

Yelena’s features soften, “You are very welcome, Kate Bishop.”



For the rest of the week, Kate works from home. She can attend meetings and answer calls from virtually anywhere, so she takes advantage of that. She wants to be home with Lucky to ensure he’s recovering well.

Kate takes extra care to fluff his beds (she went out and bought more—one for upstairs and one for the kitchen) and stands with him as he gobbles down his new kibble. She honestly didn’t think he would like regular dog food, but he seems almost appreciative of it. It makes Kate feel bad at first, having never even considered he couldn’t live off of people food forever.

She rolls her eyes at herself. She was such an amateur back then.

Before, she was a full-time Chief Marketing Officer and nothing else. She just happened to come home to a cute Golden-Retriever-Trash-Dog mix and thought nothing other than to offer him her leftovers from lunch and dinner.

Now, however, she is a new woman. A changed woman.

Now, she is a part-time CMO, and a part-time Professional Dog Owner. She walks Lucky longer, follows the instructions on how much he should be eating, and, again, fluffs his beds periodically. She pays more attention to him now than ever before in the past month, and Lucky is eating it up.

Kate figures it’s better for him to eat attention than egg foo young dripping in gravy.

So, yeah, Kate prides herself on being a kickass dog mom now. All the spare attention she offers to Lucky starts to pay off. She now knows what his normal behavior is like. He sleeps a lot, he eagerly eats his breakfast and dinner, he scratches behind his ears, he stretches like a pilates professional, and he licks himself in places Kate feels should be saved for when he’s alone.

So, a week later, Kate is petting Lucky as she lounges on the couch and feels a bump on his ribcage and tries to remain calm. It could totally be nothing.

But what if it’s not? What if it’s the C-word, or an equally life-threatening bug, or…

Kate can’t handle the spiraling she feels coming on so she hops up, ignores Lucky’s judgmental glare, and throws on her boots. She’s taking him to the vet.

Dr. Belova said to bring him back if anything weird happens, and something weird is happening. It’s happening and Kate is not going to sit idly by as her dog may very well be on his deathbed.



“It is just a scab, Kate Bishop,” Dr. Belova deadpans. “He probably scratched himself too hard. I will have Laura cut his nails before you go.”

The heat rising to Kate’s cheeks says everything that doesn’t need to be said about this situation. She worries her lip, staring at the very obvious healing skin on her companion. She didn’t think to actually pull back the hair around it to take a look. Even still, Kate knows she probably would’ve still brought him here. Better to be safe than sorry, right?

Yelena readjusts the stethoscope around her neck and offers Kate a reassuring smile, placing her hand over Kate’s across the metal table. There’s a tight tingling in her chest, and Yelena’s hand is so, so warm. Kate would love to know what it feels like to just be held by those confident hands and strong arms. Preferably horizontally. Preferably on her comfy, cozy bed. Preferably naked.

“It is good you brought him in,” Yelena continues, startling the brunette. “Don’t worry so much. It is better to be safe than sorry,” she tells her, inadvertently causing Kate to romanticize their nonexistent relationship even harder than before.

They’re soulmates, obviously.

Kate smiles dazedly. “Thanks, Doc—Yelena,” she corrects.

Yelena gives a small pat to her hand and an ever-dazzling smile before exiting the room.

Kate waits for Laura to come clip Lucky’s nails, all the while daydreaming about her very daydreamable crush. The arm touches, the hug, the hand touch today. She’s pretty sure she can still feel veterinarian’s comforting warmth.



Kate comes home from work one Thursday evening and Lucky is sleeping soundly on his bed in the kitchen. She sets her house keys on the counter, the clanking metal waking up the one-eyed Golden.

He looks up at Kate through his brown eye, still fighting off the slumber, but wags his tail happily.

“Hi, buddy,” she coos, bending down to scratch under his chin. Kate would swear he’s smiling at her, if she were insane.

She wouldn’t exactly cross it off the list at this point.

“Wanna go potty?” she asks, making her way to snag his lead that hangs in the coat closet by the door.

Lucky jumps up and spins around excitedly.

Kate clicks on his leash and leads him to the elevator where they descend the twelve floors smoothly. After taking care of his doggy-business, she takes him to a nearby dog park and lets him off leash to run around.

Seeing all the dogs running around gives Kate a wild hair to look up her favorite veterinarian.

She types Yelena belova into the Instagram search bar. A bunch of random accounts pop up, and some of them make Kate blush and quickly exit out of the profile. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it), none of them are her Yelena.

Next, she tries Lucky day veterinary clinic. To Kate’s delight, the clinic actually has an instagram.

The most recent post is of a lizard with a docked tail being held by purple-gloved hands.



Walter came to us after having his tail accidentally ran over. He is recovering nicely! ❤️‍🩹

Kate continues scrolling, enjoying seeing the various types of animals the clinic treats. Eventually, she stumbles upon a post of Dr. Romanov and Dr. Belova, both clad in deep blue scrubs and caps, the redhead’s arm slung over the blonde’s.



Please give a warm LD welcome to Dr. R’s very own little sister and LD’s newest vet, Dr. Yelena Belova! We are so lucky to have such a talented team! 💕🐾🩺🌈✨🔥

Kate drags two fingers across the screen, effectively zooming in on Yelena.

A dreamy sigh leaves Kate’s lungs. She can’t believe that one: a woman this attractive even exists, and two: she isn’t so wrapped up in her looks that she can’t be a compassionate, life-saving vet. She is obviously a Saint. There’s simply no other explanation.

Just as Kate begins to not-screenshot the photo (that’d be creepy), Lucky barks in the distance. She looks up and sees him limping toward her, putting minimal weight on his left front paw. Kate’s on her feet, meeting him halfway in a second.

“What’s wrong, boy?” she asks, half of her expecting a detailed explanation from Pizza Dog.

In the back of her mind, she wonders if she’s supposed to call him Kibble Dog now?

She won’t. That sounds dumb.

She digresses. Again.

Lucky whimpers, holding his paw up to the brunette. Kate reaches out to hold it, inspecting it in a way she hopes would make Yelena proud. She doesn’t feel any abscesses or see any blood. She massages the paw and Lucky’s wrist, but nothing out of the ordinary crosses his features. No whines or grumbles.

Kate’s brows furrow. He seems fine, but what if it’s a deeper injury than what Kate can assess? What if she leaves him be and then down the line, his leg needs to be amputated? He’s already mysteriously missing an eye, she refuses to have to change his name to Tripod.

That’s it. They’re going to the vet.

Thankfully, the dog park is closer to the clinic than Kate’s apartment so Lucky doesn’t have to limp very far. Kate very well tried to carry him, but sixty-eight pounds is a lot for an eight-minute walk. She calls the front desk to let them know Lucky has surely broken his leg and they’re on their way in.

Hope keeps her cool and says she will alert the doctors to see who can squeeze Lucky in on such short notice.

By the time they get to the office, Lucky has stopped limping. Kate’s positive the adrenaline pumping through his veins has disguised the excruciating pain, which brings her a bit of relief as well.

As she’s approaching the front desk, Hope hangs up the phone.

“Doctor Belova is coming in right now,” the receptionist assures promptly, leaning forward to get a good look at Lucky, who is sitting contently beside Kate.

Kate feels an overwhelming need to speak for him. “He’s really in a lot of pain, I think,” she tells Hope anxiously.

Hope continues to examine Lucky with just her eyes. “I mean, he looks pretty calm for a broken leg?”

“He doesn’t know any better! It’s the adrenaline,” Kate counters, worrying her bottom lip.

Dr. Belova rounds the corner, coming into view from the hallway. She’s jogging in what appears to be slow motion? That’s a rather inefficient way to run.

Wait, maybe that’s just Kate’s brain. Her heart palpitations confirm it’s just her lovesick reaction to the gorgeous blonde rushing toward her and her four-legged son. Kate wants to tell Yelena that Lucky has been in the market for a step-mom, but now’s not the time.

“Kate Bishop, I came as soon as Hope called,” she rushes out, looking back and forth between Kate’s blue eyes and the brown of the tail-wagging Golden. “Let’s get you into a room, yes?”

Kate nods hurriedly and Yelena ushers them into an empty exam room. The small vet is quick to fold up the table and kneel down in front of Lucky who just wants to lick her face.

Relatable, honestly.

“Tell me everything,” Yelena requests, running her hands over Lucky expertly.

Kate thinks back to the park. “Well, I took him to the dog park to run around since I was at work all day, and I was sitting on a bench looking at…” Kate’s eyes bug in remembrance, but thankfully, Dr. Belova isn’t looking at her. “Looking at my phone when I heard Lucky bark. He came to me limping, and I tried feeling his paw—the left one—but I didn’t feel anything. I think maybe he broke his leg,” she explains frantically, running a hand through her hair.

Yelena nods at the information, but eyes Kate warily. She moves her hands to Lucky’s left foot, wiggling his toes, flexing his wrist, and extending his arm in all the directions his wingspan will allow.

When she finishes, she pats her hands on her thighs and purses her lips in thought.

Kate prepares to hear the worst.

Dr. Belova stands to her full (tiny) height and grabs Kate’s hand, running her fingers over Kate’s knuckles soothingly.

“Kate,” she starts softly, hazel searching blue. There’s something in her gaze that makes Kate hold her breath. “You could just ask me out if you wanted to see me this badly.”


“You did not have to make up all these stories,” the blonde continues, smug smile forming on her lips.

Kate’s damn near speechless, but after a moment of just staring at each other, her heart, lungs, and brain kickstart again to catch up with the scenario.

“I—holy shit,” she splutters eloquently. Yelena laughs melodically, and Kate wants to record it for her ringtone. “You… wanna go out with me?”

Dr. Belova chuckles again. “I’m usually out of here by eight, come by and pick me up. And leave your perfectly-healthy pup at home this time, yes?”

And just like that, Lucky single-handedly landed Kate a date with literally the hottest woman in the universe.

Kate wonders if this calls for celebratory slice of pizza.