"A dog?"

Blaine nodded, eyes bright and eager. "Yes. There's an adoption day at the animal shelter and I think we should get a pet."

Not that he had anything against animals, but Sam wasn't sure an apartment in New York was a good place for one. "But we'll both be gone all day," he reasoned. "It would be alone and cooped up and that would be mean."

"Doggie daycare."

Sam blinked. "That's…You're teasing me, right? That's not an actual thing?"

"It is."

When Blaine let the conversation drop, Sam assumed it was over.

After all these years, he really should've known better.

Stepping into the apartment after a day at the office (he'd recently begun working as an illustrator on an awesome graphic novel series), he was surprised to see Blaine sitting crosslegged on the floor, a small bundle of fluff on his lap.

"Hi, Sweetheart," Blaine said, voice light in a way that Sam knew meant he was nervous. "I couldn't resist. I mean, look at this face!"

He held up the furball, who stared at Sam, who, after a moment, chuckled. "It looks like an Ewok."

"I know!" Blaine agreed, some of the nerves bleeding out of his tone. "She's a she."

Placing his messenger bag on the low bench beside the door, Sam stepped across the room and settled down beside Blaine. "Well, she is small enough that I don't feel so bad about her not having room to run around. The apartment probably seems huge to her," he mused, reaching out to past the silky head. "What's her name?"

"You're not mad?"

"No, of course not," he replied, sliding closer and putting an arm around Blaine's shoulders. "I love dogs, I just wasn't sure we could give one all the attention it would need. But you're right, that face is irresistible."

That earned him a warm kiss. "What should we name her?"

And that was how Wicket joined the Evans-Anderson family.