Date: Sat, 10 Feb 1996 20:57:55 -0500 From: Sharon Scott Subject: Of Cats and Cops Of Cats and Cops by Sharon S. Scott Nick tried to shoo the yellow cat off the hood of the Caddy. The cat stretched out full length and stared at him. He hissed at the cat. The cat hissed back. He yelled at the cat. The cat gave him a go-to-hell look. He tried to hypnotize the cat. The cat yawned. He picked the cat up and set it on the ground. The cat jumped back up onto the hood of the car and stood, watching him. Nick smiled and picked the cat up again, holding it close to his chest and scratching under its chin. "Domestic Shorthair faces down Vampire Cop, huh?" The cat purred. "Don't you have a home?" The cat rubbed its head against Nick's chin. "What's your name, cat?" The cat licked Nick's hand. "Got a family somewhere? A husband and kittens to tend to?" The cat bit Nick's hand. He took a look and apologized. "Sorry, a wife and kittens to tend to?" The cat purred again. "No family. All alone, just like me." The cat started purring again. "I've got to go to work. You need to go home, wherever that is." He put the cat down. It jumped back into his arms. He put it down again. "I can't stand around petting you all night. I've got work to do, and so do you. I've got to catch bad guys, you've got to catch rats." The cat wound itself around his legs. "Go on, go home now. Vampires can't have pets. Not a good idea." The cat, looking mortally offended, glared at him and mouthed a silent meow. "I'm sorry, but it just wouldn't work. I'd get hungry, and you'd be ... dead." He got in the car, rolled down the window, and looked down at the cat. "Go home. Just go home." The cat turned its back on him and walked slowly down the length of the warehouse. Nick sighed, rolled the window up, and started the car. A week later. ************************************** As he drove up to the warehouse, Nick noticed something small and cat-shaped on the front step of the street entrance to his loft. He locked the car, shut the garage door, and walked around to the steps. "Back again? I thought I told you to go home." The tabby opened its eyes. They glowed an eerie yellow in the darkness. Vampire yellow. Nick took a startled step back. "I don't believe this." The cat opened its mouth, faking a yawn, showing off its lovely long fangs. "Okay, I believe it." The cat stood, facing the door, looking up at the knob. "You're not coming in. No way." The cat sat, still facing the door, its tail swishing back and forth. "Go away. Go back to whoever--whatever--did this to you. I don't need a cat in my life right now. Go!" The cat looked over its shoulder at him, then turned to face the door again. "NO! GO AWAY!" The cat, insulted to the tip of its rather scraggly tail, began to slink away, giving the detective an extremely dirty look. Nick punched the buttons on the keypad, and started inside when the door popped open. A yellow blur sped between his legs and into the loft. "Merde," Nick swore under his breath. Making sure the door locked behind him, he used his vampire vision to try to find the telltale image of the cat in the darkness of the loft. No luck. Wherever the damned thing had hid, it had done a good job. Deciding it would have to come out eventually, he removed his gun and holster and headed for the refrigerator and breakfast. He poured himself a glass of red and then sat on the couch to drink it. And yelped when a yellow furry thing landed on the back of the couch, reached over his shoulder, and stuck a little pink tongue into the glass. And then laughed when the yellow blur made a face. "You don't like cow? Well, sorry, that's all I have." The cat looked offended, but took another lap at the liquid. "Not so bad once you get used to it." Nick watched, smiling, as the cat took a few more drinks, then pulled the glass away. "Save some for me, would you?" They took turns until the glass was empty. And then they both took baths. And then they both took naps. Two days later. *********************** "Nick, what's this bowl doing on the counter? Have you been sneaking chicken soup?" Nat looked puzzled and hopeful at the same time. "You wish. No, it's the cat's bowl." "Yeah, right." "I got tired of him drinking out of my glass." Nat walked around the sofa to stare at the grin on Nick's face. "You love doing this to me, don't you? Making me crazy?" "I'm perfectly serious. I tried to get rid of him, but he forced himself on me." "So where is he? I don't see a cat." Nick looked around the loft at the cat's favorite resting places. The seat of the motorcycle; the piano seat; the top step of the staircase. "He's probably on my bed asleep or out mousing around." "You're telling me the truth? You actually have a cat? Nat's voice questioned what she was hearing. "Show him to me." "Check upstairs if you want. He may have gone out the skylight, though." Nat's eyes moved upward to the skylight, then back at Nick's face. "There's no access to the skylight ... a cat couldn't ... unless ... Nick, he's not a ... " "Yes, he is a ... and before you ask, I didn't make him one." Nat sat down, pressing her hands to her eyes. "I've been awake too long. I'm delusional." Removing her hands, she stared questions at him. "He just showed up. I shooed him away. Then he came back changed, and he wouldn't be shooed. He snuck in when I opened the door, and he's been coming and going on his own schedule since then." "I don't think I want to know what he drinks, or how. Oh, my God, you said you got tired of him drinking out of ... That's gross!" "I'm immune to germs, remember? He drinks a bit of cow, hangs around a while, then goes out hunting on his own. He's independent. And he's a lot of company when he chooses to stay for a while." "She shuddered and put a hand to her neck. "You don't think he'd bite humans, do you?" "I don't think so. Unless he was starving, of course. Although your neck does look quite yummy." He stared at her neck for a moment, as if hungry himself, then grinned. Nat stood, walked over to the table, and grabbed her purse and coat. "I think I'll go now." "Don't be silly, Nat. I was kidding. He wouldn't attack humans. There's no need to, there are plenty of mice ... " Nat's quick "Bye" was almost lost in her hurry to leave. He looked after her, completing his thought as the door slid shut. " ... and rats in the city." Dawn, the next day ************* He heard the patter of little feet across the rooftop, the skylight, and the floor of the loft, then felt the hesitant weight of the small, cold body on the end of the bed. "Hello, Cat." The cat moved toward the sound of his voice, and began to purr as it kneaded the blanket covering him. "Good hunting tonight?" "You decided to be sociable?" But as he reached out a hand to stroke the cat's head, the animal moved quickly back to the end of the bed. "Or maybe you just came in to get out of the cold." The cat stared at him, then began inching back to the head of the bed. "You're welcome to come and go as you please, you know." The cat walked to the other pillow and lay down facing him. "I know about being forced. So stay or go, as you wish. You're free." The cat stared at him, as if considering his words, then closed his eyes and went to sleep. He lay awake for what seemed like hours, listening to the cat's small sounds, thinking about freedom and slavery, then finally drifted off. He awoke once during the day, to find the cat asleep, snuggled against him, its head on his outstretched arm, breathing softly into his face. ************* Scottie scotts@baylor.edu or sss44@aol.com