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   âHey,â Stevie said, after David picked up his phone, âremember when we got really, really high with Bree and Sean the night before they left town and signed those guardianship papers?â   Â
   âVividly,â David said, recalling just how funny he had thought it would be at the time, him and Stevie raising a baby out of the motel room he shared with his sister. Now, he had a business and a home. Also, hopefully, a very understanding husband, because David had some idea where she was going with this. It probably hadnât been what Patrick had in mind when he asked David if he was ready to start the adoption process.
  âOkay, good, because Iâm in your driveway and a social worker is going to be here any minute with Denim,â Stevie said
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an addition to the family (david x patrick, schittâs creek)
AN ~ I don't know exactly how this happened, but I have 2000 words of David x Patrick pro-pet adoption holiday season fluff with a healthy sider of David & Stevie friendship and 'delightfully half-half' Xtn/Jewish David, and I couldn't help but share it. Enjoy! and support your local pet shelters this holidays.
Rated T just in case. fluff. contains mentions of both Christmas and Hanukkah
Read on AO3 (~2100 words)
an addition to the family
After a snooty dachshund rejected his advances, David turned back to his stand and tried his best not to pull a face as he straightened a row of collars. Heâd never really got dogs. There just seemed to be something about them he couldnât vibe with; not even the neat, posh ones. But he could respect that other people liked them â and he certainly appreciated those who aspired to give their pets the best. His pleasure at the very popular reception of their hand-made organic dog treats was very much genuine⊠even if he wasnât too keen on giving out the samples himself.
Patrick, on the other hand, was living up to his reputation with the local youths; kneeling in muddy snow at the adoption drive, helping kids get up the courage to pat his charges, which were on the larger side of the doggy spectrum. For some unknown reason that David could only boil down to the mysteries of love, it warmed his heart to notice that Patrickâs smile somehow resembled that of the gambolling Retriever-cross he was currently introducing to the nearest family as Buddy.
âThinking about an addition to the family?â interrupted a familiar voice. Stevie, raising an eyebrow, over the cup of tea she had brought him.
David scoffed, and took the tea. âUgh. No.â
âCome on,â Stevie cajoled. âI think it would be cute.â
âI think it would be⊠messy. And loud. AndâŠâ
And something shaggy and black and white, maybe a Husky or a Border Collie, was lying on its back while Patrick laughed and rubbed its belly. It pawed the air in delight.
David cleared his throat.
âBesides,â he finished. âWe donât have room for it in the apartment.â
âIt doesnât have to be a dog, you know,â Stevie pointed out. âMe, Iâm thinking about getting a lizard. Or maybe a ferret. Like old Felix here.â
She swung her arm around, revealing a mouse-brown ferret with a white bandit mark across its eyes, wrapped around her arm quite contentedly. David yelped.
âOh, God! Why??â Eye twitching, he reined himself in. They had customers to think of after all â not that most of them didnât already know of his lack of affinity for animals by now. Most of them found it funnier than he cared for, to be honest. Still, he pulled out of the dive. âWhy- why- why is Felix, um, here?â
âBecause I wanted to try out these little hats,â Stevie said, plucking a tiny green-and-red elf hat from the table and arranging it on Felixâs head. He sat up, attentive, almost appearing to clap his hands. If he didnât have such a rat-like face, it almost would have been cute. And dare he say it, David had an idea to make it even cuter.
â⊠We also have matching scarves.â
Resigned to his fate, and to sacrificing himself for the art, David picked a green one from the selection and pressed the stud so that it sit comfortably around the ferretâs neck. Felix wrapped a tiny hand around his finger in return.
âAww,â Stevie said. âHe likes you.â
âThatâs nice,â David replied, withdrawing his finger with a half-hearted glare. He had intended to be sarcastic but actually, it did feel kind of nice - there was a reason after all, he supposed, that humans had domesticated animals for the last few thousand odd years. Why people then proceeded to abandon the little monsters in droves, he would never understand.
(Maybe he would have, not so long ago. But he tried not to think too hard about that.)
Instead, he focused on doing the best he could for the store. He peddled the dog treats, and cat treats, little booties and hats, collars, toys; everything. He encouraged people to take photos, tag them on Instagram, buy gifts for friends, and of course donate to the shelter. A handful of times, Patrick offered to cover, but since that meant David helping out at the shelter drive as his replacement, David declined. Besides, they were doing well, but it wasnât like things were flying off the shelf. He got plenty of downtime.
Plenty of downtime to think.
Plenty of downtime to think about the apartment, the budget, the hints that Patrick had been dropping. The shop in Prague, whose resident cat Luna had once got him to buy what remained to this day his favourite mug. Maybe it wouldnât be all bad.
(Maybe he was already vision-boarding outdoor sun-boxes and cat runs and reading about something called âcat mintâ. But he wasnât going to tell Stevie about that.)
Still, by the time the dayâs festivities were winding up, David was in a much more pensive state of mind. He packed up their remaining supplies (there werenât many; as always, heâd planned well) and wandered over to the shelterâs pens to wait for Patrick. Ted was there, explaining some flea drops to Twyla while Alexis made kissy faces at her friendâs new ginger cat. That, David told himself, is what caused him to wander over to the feline side of the selection.
Most of the pens had been cleared out by this point, and most of what were left were the older cats, the scarred ones, the ugly breeds or sickly-looking ones. David frowned; it was, he supposed, to be expected, but somehow if anything, that made it even more sad. His eyes caught the bright yellow ones of a black cat at the end of the aisle. There were a few of those left, too. This one had a scar on his shoulder, a bit of knotted fur where it was healing, but otherwise he was quite a handsome devil. Even if his gaze was a little too insightful for comfort, it kept Davidâs attention so thoroughly he didnât in the slightest notice Ted sneak up.
âHey, bud. Howâs things?â
âUh, good,â David replied, stammering to keep from jumping near out of his skin. He straightened up from his cat-examination angle, and found that a question seemed poised on his lips.
âI see youâve meet Maccabee,â Ted pointed out, and bent over himself to greet the cat and pull him out for a cuddle, before turning his attention back to David. âHeâs been in rescue for a year this Christmas. Itâs sad, really; black cats are already least rescued because of some superstition, and with his scar and FIV on top of that ââ
âWhatâs FIV?â
âItâs⊠like HIV. For cats.â
âOh.â
âYeah.â Ted took a deep breath, and sighed it out. âHeâs asymptomatic at the moment, but it still means he canât live with other cats, or go outside where might run into them and get himself into trouble. Itâs kinda limiting. Which sucks, âcause heâs a sweet little guy now that heâs had his testosterone â you know, permanently lowered - and some people wonât even pet him once they find out.â
Try as he might, Ted couldnât hold back a little smile at David, who had already offered a knuckle for Maccabee to sniff and couldnât seem to take his eyes off the little man. It took a solid few seconds for David to notice that Ted had stopped talking, and what he was doing, at which point he dropped his hand and cleared his throat.
âThatâs, um. Thatâs a bummer.â
âIt is. Especially because, you know, people canât get it from cats.â
âLike, not at all? Are you sure?â
Somehow, Davidâs hand had found Maccabee again, and was scratching absently at the back of his neck. He watched for Tedâs answers closely, apparently unaware of what his fingers were doing.
âNot even if he bit your whole hand off,â Ted swore. âCertainly not if he⊠I donât know. Sat in the same room or maybe, rubbed past some clothesâŠâ
Something deep inside David was thinking, as Patrick jogged up the aisle to greet them. He saw who Ted was holding, and pouted.
âMacâs still here, huh?â
âYeah,â Ted sighs.
âAnd David- David, is here?â Patrick didnât mean to sound so surprised, let alone hopeful, but he had been dropping an awful lot of hints that he was interested in getting a pet. Heâd just assumed David hadnât been picking up on them, or had misinterpreted them as the idea to come here. Either way, it seemed he had a foot in the door, if he trod lightly.
âCan I hold him?â Patrick asked Ted.
âSure,â Ted agreed, passing him over. âIâve gotta start crating the others anyway. Just bring him down the front when youâre done.â
As Ted walked away, David frowned.
âI thought you said you were allergic to cats?â he wondered.
âThey make meds for that, David,â Patrick assured him, and cooed at Maccabee, letting the cat rub his face into his hand and paw at his shoulder.
âOkay.â David nodded and, more conscious of what he was doing this time, resumed scratching Maccabee between the shoulder blades and around the back of the neck. It seemed his mind had been made up for him â especially as he started to feel the tiny sputtering rumbles of a hesitant purr beneath the coarse black coat.
âHey, Patrick?â David began again.
âYes, David.â
âDid you know that Maccabee is the name of the group of Jewish warriors who took back the temple from Antiochus and lit the oil that started Hanukkah?â
Patrick blinked in surprise. âI kinda assumed it was something biblical but no, I didnât know that.â
âSo you didnât set me up to meet this cat a week out from Hanukkah?â
âNo.â
âAnd you didnât name him Maccabee?â
âDavid. I met him this morning.â
âSo you havenât been conspiring for me to get you a furry four-legged friend these last few months.â
âWellâŠâ
âAnd you didnât bring Stevie, Ted, and/or Alexis in on this little gambit.â
âI wouldnât say I brought them in. But yes. I think it would be nice to have a pet! I always had a dog growing up and Rachel had a cat â I miss being around them. And these little guys, they need a home. Mac needs a home, David.â
He lifted Maccabeeâs face beside his own, glowing yellow eyes and pleading blue making a point together. Now that David thought about it, maybe they should add some kippot to their holiday hat collection.
âCome on,â Patrick continued. âYou said it yourself, itâs basically fate â itâs divine intervention-â
âItâs a fundraiser set up for the sole purpose of helping the shelter adopt out animals,â David corrected. âLetâs not get ahead of ourselves.â
But the thought of putting Maccabee back in that sad little cage at this point and walking away was almost too much to bear. The thought of him sitting on the shop counter by Patrick as he worked the books, or batting him away from the menorah and the tinsel, or waking up to him on the end of their little bed â now that, David thought, suddenly felt like it had always been part of this little world heâd envisioned for himself.
And judging by the look on Patrickâs face, Patrick was envisioning something very much the same.
David took a deep breath, pretending to be much more laboured about the decision than he now was; he had a reputation to maintain, after all.
âYou promise to clean up his poop?â
âI promise,â Patrick vowed.
âAnd you promise the allergy thing wonât bug you?â
âLiterally got antihistamines in my bag.â
âThen I think we should do it,â David announced. âI think we should bring Maccabee home.â
âReally?â Patrickâs eyes lit up, and he held Maccabee a little tighter to stop from shifting him too much in his excitement. âGreat!â
He bounded back up the front of the shelter stands, David following behind with the patient long-suffering smile for once. Ted was waiting at the back of his truck, one last crate awaiting, register and kitty (pun, as always, intended) long since packed away. His smile told David and Patrick he already knew exactly what had transpired, and he handed the spare crate and a manila folder over to David.
âThatâs his welcome package â medical records, FIV info, council registration, stuff like that. Take a look, and if you have any questions, you know where to find me.â
âHow much-â
Ted shrugged and waved them off.
âAll sorted,â he said. âHappy Hanukk-cat, David. Merry Catmas.â
âThanks,â âThank you,â David and Patrick replied â and then Patrick added for good measure â
âAnd a Happy Meow Year.â
They could hear Alexis groan from the front seat of the truck. Ted laughed and joined her, calling as he went â