(no subject)

[chantinellie.livejournal.com]

Date: May 29, 2000
Setting: The Manor grounds and upstairs
Status: Private (Ellie, and Some Others) XD
Summary: An unexpected discovery and a surprise gift.



Ellie had no particular agenda in mind for that day. The Manor was safe and comfortable, but by the same token it could also be a bit boring. This wasn't necessarily such a bad thing, for someone who'd spent millennia as an infernal prostitute and several years since as a refugee from Hell; but she did find herself wishing at times for something interesting (in the non-disastrous sense of the word) to happen.

'Something' arrived unexpectedly on her way in from the greenhouse, in the form of a tiny scrap of fluff she almost stepped on before realizing it was there. Only a plaintive mew! warned her in time, and she backpedaled hastily in surprise, to find herself staring down at a small, fluffy, wobbly-legged kitten, barely old enough to be separated from its mother.

"Well. Hello there," she said bemusedly. "Kind of redundant, aren't you? It's not like I need a warning, I already know I've got the rottenest luck imaginable..."

The kitten sat up primly, wrapped its tail neatly around itself, and began to lick one of its paws.

"No offense, cat, but for a harbinger of doom, you certainly don't look very menacing." Ellie shook her head and walked around the small creature, prepared to leave it where it sat, but came to a halt as another thought occurred to her.

"You know, you really shouldn't be here," she said to it admonishingly. "There are a lot of dogs around this place. Big ones. And wolves, and wolf-shaped critters. And I think some horses that get loose on occasion and might step on you."

The kitten, supremely unconcerned, rolled onto its back and dangled its little paws in the air, then stretched languidly, sprawling lazily across the footpath.

"I'm serious. Not to mention the birds of prey," Ellie added with a slight frown. "You're just about a bite-size snack for them, and they'd probably appreciate the irony. Trust me, this is no place for you. Better move along. I'm sure some eight-year-old girl somewhere would be delighted to spoil you with milk and tuna and...whatever it is that cats like." Ellie had never owned a cat, nor any other type of pet (well, there'd been an imp once in the fire-gardens, but that had been ages ago and had not ended happily.)

The kitten yawned and blinked at her with large, innocent yellow eyes. It had one white paw, she noted, like a single white sock standing out in blinding contrast to the rest of its jet-black fur.

"Go on, shoo!" she told it impatiently, waving her hands in a way that must have looked rather silly. The cat failed to take the hint, and shut its eyes as though it had no intention of moving.

"Well, drat," Ellie muttered, stymied. She stood there with her hands planted on her hips for several minutes, deliberating.

If the silly thing got eaten or squished, or died of exposure or starvation, it had only itself to blame, she thought stubbornly. Stupid cat, wandering away from its home and mother at such a tender age. The thought occurred that some cruel or careless human might be reponsible, and that just irritated her more.

Ellie turned and strode back toward the Manor, but got no more than a few yards up the path before she was turning around to come back and stare at the miniature feline again.

She couldn't just leave the little guy out here all alone. Dammit.

Grumbling under her breath, she picked the kitten up by the scruff of the neck and held it at eye level. It hissed and spat at her, scrabbling at the air with all four paws, indignant at having its nap interrupted. Yellow eyes blinked at her balefully from beneath a whimsical ruff of cowlicky black fur, and she had to laugh.

"Now, who do you remind me of?" she asked, grinning and cupping the kitty in both hands. She'd just had a wicked idea, which was also the only solution that made much sense.

She had no interest in a pet, and of the Manor inhabitants she knew, most seemed either too self-absorbed, too callous, too irresponsible or barely capable of caring for themselves, let alone another living creature. And of those who remained, most had too much to deal with already.

Which is how, fifteen minutes later, a certain lavish suite on the second floor decorated all in red came to contain a wicker basket, in the middle of which a small black fluffball snoozed contentedly, charmed to wake when someone else entered the room. Around its neck was a nice new collar, and tied to the collar was a bright red and gold tartan bow.

Next to the fluffball sat a crisp white note card, which read simply in an elegant script, "Please don't let me be eaten by something bigger."

Comments

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Crowley returned to his room late after a day trip to London to sort out some business interests.* Flicking on the light, he toed off his shoes and dropped his jacket wearily on the bed, which then mewed at him. He blinked and picked his jacket back up again to find a tiny, furry face peering back up at him with huge yellow eyes.

"... the fuck?" he said, reaching for the note. As his hand got nearer, the kitten hissed at him. He hissed right back and the little face took on a comical stunned expression. With a smirk, he snatched the card and read it. Then he turned it over. There was nothing written on the other side.

The kitten meowed again, looking piteous. Crowley reached into the basket to get a look at her collar and the little thing scraped her rough tongue against the demon's thumb.

"Oh no you don't. I'm not playing this game, cat. I don't care how cute you are, as soon as I find out who left you here, you're going back. I don't like animals and animals don't like me, so there will be no animals here. I am not a shelter and I'm going to quickly disabuse your real owner of that notion."

She only cried again and butted her head against his hand. Crowley withdrew it and with a sigh produced a saucer of cat milk for her to drink. He would deal with it tomorrow.

*Causing all the computers at the London stock exchange to crash at the same time during heavy trading.

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

There was something very, undeniably satisfying about coming home after a day's honest work, Aziraphale mused as he trudged up the stairs (Such a distance, indeed, from work to home, or was work home?) to their rooms some time after five o'clock. He went through a mental checklist in his head for the last time, confident he'd finished the tasks he'd set.

But no matter how satisfying work was, there was nothing compared to coming home. The angel arrived at their floor, approached the door to Crowley's room. Surely he was home, Aziraphale decided, causing sin rarely took him very far away for any length of time. Sure enough, as he paused at the door to shuffle a few books he'd brought with him to his left arm so as to open the door, the angel heard sounds of movement inside.

"I'm home!" he mock-announced as he opened the door, smiling as he caught sight of-

Of.

"Is that a kitten?" he asked in amazement, setting the tomes on a convenient table. "She's adorable!"

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Looking up as his partner entered the room, Crowley tried not to smile at the look on the angel's face. Screw the kitten, Aziraphale was pretty damn adorable, too.

"Do not get attached, angel. Tomorrow, the cat goes back to whomever left it here and that's final."

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

Aziraphale was already playing with it, picking it up so he could get a good look at its lovely eyes.

"Goes back?" he repeated absently, gaze fixed on the purring ball of fluff in his hands.

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

"No playing, damn it!" Crowley said, irate. "Someone left the fucking thing on our bed with that tacky tartan bow on it and a soppy card, expecting you'd take care of it because you're just that much of a pushover. But I found it first, so it's temporarily in my care, which means I decide what to do with it, and I say it's going back to whomever left it in the morning."

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

"Our care," Aziraphale told him, stubborn, blithely ignoring the rest of Crowley's tirade as he scratched under the kitten's tiny chin. "And I'm not certain finder's keepers is the best method to apply."

He frowned; the kitten yawned at him. "Was a name given on the card? What did it say?"

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

"No," corrected Crowley. "If it was meant to be in your care, it would be in your damn bedroom. How many people do you think know we share a room? And if it's more than maybe two, we need to have a talk."

He lay on the bed, kicking the basket off the end. "No name. Just said 'Don't let me be eaten'."

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

"Of course we wouldn't let it be eaten," he exclaimed, scandalized. "Poor thing, where did you come from?"

"Anyway, maybe they simply had the rooms mistaken?" His tone was doubtful, eyeing the red-dark walls around them, but it needed to be said. "Tartan isn't precisely your style."

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

"Oh, you think?" asked Crowley sarcastically. "Put the damn thing down already, would you? It's got food. It'll live until tomorrow." He rested his head on the pillow and closed his eyes. It really had been a long day.

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

Aziraphale looked at it doubtfully. "Are you quite certain? Doesn't it need some sort of box to do its business? Water? Somewhere to sleep?"

The kitten just blinked its big eyes up at him and meowed pitifully and bumped his hand with its ickle nose, as if it knew he was thinking about it. "Oh," he cooed, walking out of the room to the beautiful shared bathroom, which was about to have one more guest.

He miracled a litterbox, a dish of water, and a soft bundle of blankets, setting the kitten in it last. "Stay," he told it gently, looking up through the open door at Crowley's prone body. "You won't be going anywhere soon."

With this, and a final stroke of soft fur, he left the kitten purring in its new habitat, heading back into the bedroom. By force of habit, he went to the dresser first, shedding outmost layers of clothing and unbuttoning his shirt. He caught sight of Crowley, eyes closed and apparently in deep relaxation, and watched, fingers slowing their attempts to unbutton his shirt. "Ah, dear," he sighed, as inaudible as a breath, and let his hands fall, treading closer to the demon.

Aziraphale sat on the bed, sock feet on the ground, and leaned down over the demon, kissing the languorious Crowley with a hum of gratitude. "Bad day?" he asked, gentle, even as fingers were sliding down his chest, finding the edge of Crowley's trousers.

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

"You didn't need to do that," he murmured, not bothering to open his eyes. "I'm sure it can survive ten hours on its own without keeling over. Who knows how long it has been in here today."

Crowley sighed, feeling the angel's hands on his waist. "It wasn't a bad day, per se. Just a long one. And I fucking hate bankers in their little suits, the flash bastards."

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

"Do you?" and it didn't take a witch like Agnes to know that Aziraphale was smiling, lips curved against Crowley's warm skin. The angel was smiling more at the tone of Crowley's voice, the gentle rumbling he felt against his mouth as he kissed along Crowley's neck.

He undid the shirt buttons before, some expensive material that was enjoyable to have slip through his fingers, thin enough to toy with a nipple through the fabric. Aziraphale murmured a song as he worked, a long-forgotten song of brewing and chemistry for Egyptian cosmetics.*

*How he knew this, you didn't want to ask.

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Crowley had a tendency to default to whatever language it was that Aziraphale happened to be speaking and half the time he didn't even realize it. That would be why, when the angel's mouth followed his fingers and gently bit an increasingly sensitive nipple, he sat up abruptly, back arching, and moaned,

*

Opening his eyes, he was about to add something else when a dark shape on the floor near the bed caught his attention.

"Mew!"

There was a breathless pause, then Crowley slumped back onto the mattress, his eyes sinking shut. "Angel... stop. I can't... not in front of the kitten..."


*Aziraphale

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

The angel actually missed the initial comment, but the mew had tipped him off to what was about to happen in about .02 seconds following it.

His ankle, sock-footed but with little else as defenses, was suddenly attacked by two very tiny, very sharp fangs.

"Ow!" he cried, pulling up his leg onto the bed. "What bit m- oh, heavens, it's the kitten." He looked at Crowley, smiling ruefully. "I suppose that wasn't the brightest idea. Ouch."

"Mew!"

"Shhh," Aziraphale soothed, reaching down to pick it up with one hand as the other rubbed the small bleeding wound on his leg. "Shhh. What do you suppose it wants?"

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Laughing in that half-embarrassed, half-exasperated, because-otherwise-you'd-cry kind of way that people do when they've been interrupted in an intimate situation by something small and cute, Crowley took the kitten from Aziraphale and held her up to look at her.

"No angel biting, cat. I'm the only one around here that gets to do that, got it?"

The kitten crossed her eyes, trying to focus on his face, mewed contentedly, and promptly fell asleep in his hands, purring. He scowled and poked her. She blinked her big, yellow eyes at him, yawned widely, ran her rough little tongue across his thumb in a desultory fashion, licked her side a couple of times where he'd ruffled her fur, and fell asleep again. The demon sighed and laid her on his chest.

"I guess she wanted some attention."

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

"I suppose so. Ow." The bitemarks healed cleanly as his hand smoothed across them. "Kittens have such sharp teeth. I'd forgotten."

The angel's other hand began stroking her fur very gently, a smile beginning as he saw how very adorable they were together. Oh yes, they would indeed be keeping her.

"Should we name her?" he asked out loud, pulling off socks "Even something temporary might be nice. Anything other than simply 'kitten', don't you think?" He looked away as he spoke. Crowley could tell when he was trying to look innocent; they were too familiar with each other to not to be able to. But it wasn't as if he was lying, really.

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

"Why would you name something you're giving away in less than a day?" asked Crowley having to nearly cross his eyes to focus on the kitten on his chest. She was warm and fuzzy against his skin and her purr reverberated in his chest.

"I think they get the teeth and claws from our side," he said finally with a faint smile. "And the 'fuck you' attitude."

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

"But the talent to bring out the kindness and generosity is there. The softness is a bit like our down, don't you think?" Aziraphale stretched, a little, and gave Crowley a quick kiss on the temple. "We'd name her because she needs a name regardless of where she ends up. Something befitting, of course, but I haven't a clue."

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Directing a deeply skeptical look at Aziraphale, Crowley considered the problem. He eyed the kitten.

"Something elegant, sleek, urban, urbane, sophisticated, sharp, starts with a C..."

Glaring at the little white paw as if the kitten were being symbolic on purpose, and again resolving to send her away the next day, Crowley said, "Chicago." And that's all there was to it.

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

"Lovely," Aziraphale agreed enthusiastically, covering up his amusement at Crowley's insistence over the letter 'C'. "But... sorry, did you mean the Windy City? May I ask why one would name such a sweet kitten after a city of... jazz, for one thing?"

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

"I like jazz," he murmured.

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

"Bebop," Aziraphale agreed. "Some jazz is quite nice - remember the twenties? Well, of course, what a silly question, you acquired your Bentley then." The angel, still mostly dressed, lay down tiredly, half-yawning. "Anything beyond that... well." He sounded disdainful.

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

"Luddite," said Crowley sleepily, his hand resting on soft black fur. He made a mental note to play some Electronica, Trance, or Rave music for Aziraphale the next time he got the chance just to see the look on his face.

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

"Mmm," Aziraphale agreed, burrowing closer on top of the blankets and wrapping an arm around the dark-haired demon, forearm brushing the kitten's silk fur. With his head against Crowley's shoulder, the angel smiled. We are keeping her.

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

"Mmm," Aziraphale agreed, burrowing closer on top of the blankets and wrapping an arm around the dark-haired demon, forearm brushing the kitten's silk fur. With his head against Crowley's shoulder, the angel smiled. We are keeping her.