I send a pestilence and plague....

[sendmyscourge]

Midnight passes again

Comments

[shootsnarkstare]

A very sick unhappy cat is sitting next to a phone booth.

She is mewling miserably, too weak to even wander her way back to her apartment.

Peyton doesn't know what's going on. She just knows that she's miserable. And someone better help her. Now.

[doneanddoner]

Fred doesn't even want to be out right now, really, but she is, and anyway, that's besides the point when she sees the crying cat.

Or hears her, first off.

"Oh," she exclaims softly, crouching down to kitty-level. "Are you okay?"

[shootsnarkstare]

The belabored mewling stops for a moment as Peyton just stares at Fred.

Now, this adorable little cat staring at her like that probably looks like she is looking up at Fred like she's a godsend. Someone who can take her home and love her forever.

Actually, Fred, Peyton's wondering why someone would bother Project Helix-ing her here. It is a train of thought that's very hard to follow with sick-kitty brain, but she doesn't like it one bit. She knows that much at least.

However, she's not entirely sure what to do. She wouldn't trust herself to take care of herself.

[doneanddoner]

And if Peyton was in human form at the moment, this whole exchange would get a lot weirder.

Just the same, the glasses and the slight Texan accent might be a good indication that she's not, you know, some crazy clone or something.

Right now, though, she's checking for obvious injuries. Like maybe a wounded tail or something.

[shootsnarkstare]

Peyton would like to point out that she can both wear glasses and have a slight Texas accent if she so pleases.

Things that don't please her? Being touched by someone she doesn't know who looks exactly like her. She makes a soft meow of protest, cringing away from Fred's touch.

Being touched like an animal is weird.

Except now she's rubbing her head up against Fred's hand. She totally didn't mean to do that.

[doneanddoner]

Fred's first instinct is to jerk back, almost like she's been burned - or worse, burned the poor thing.

"Sorry," she murmurs. "Did I hurt you?"

Rubbing against her hand, though, is a good sign, isn't it? That may earn Peyton a small scritching behind the ears.

[shootsnarkstare]

...the scritching behind the ears feels nice.

No wait. That is not nice.

There is a woman with her face scritching behind her ears. Peyton does not approve.

...but it feels nice.

So there's another soft mewling whine after an odd jerk, where Peyton realizes that she's letting a woman pet her.

[doneanddoner]

Fred's also kind of distracted by the nice cat, and then she starts to think that a plan is in order.

"Look, it's probably not safe for either of us to be out here for much longer," she says, ignoring the logic that tells her that cats can't understand human words.

"And if you're hurt, I'd feel awful about leavin' you here alone."

[shootsnarkstare]

This look Peyton is giving you is a genuine look of, "Oh, so the crazy lady with my face who talks to cats wants to take me home?"

Of course it's the crazy lady with her face.

But Peyton is too sick and tired to protest, just curling up into a little cat ball. A little cat ball of misery.

[doneanddoner]

Fred is offended by that word! (Okay, so she might use the word eccentric, but crazy just seems so extreme.)

Either way, she's not going to leave an animal who appears pretty darned miserable out in whatever is going on in the city right now, so with that in mind, she gingerly scoops up the cat, careful to avoid things like, say, claws.

"It's gonna be okay," she promises.

[shootsnarkstare]

This is where Peyton would like to go all claws on Fred. Logically, she knows that she's too sick for all of that, but this is a cat that got to beat up on a tiger. ...granted, it was about your whole body in mah mouf time when animal control showed up, but STILL.

There is a moment of oh my god why am I being picked up and Peyton's claws do come out, trying to find something to cling onto, but she doesn't claw at her, just curling up in a little sick shivery, shaky kitty mess in her arms.

[doneanddoner]

"My goodness," Fred marvels, because now that she's actually holding her, she can tell how sick she's really feeling, all shivery and trembly and hurting for some reason she can't exactly deduce.

"It's okay; we're almost there."

The Conrad isn't much farther; once Fred gets inside, it's just a matter of getting down to her room and then finding some place comfortable for the cat to rest while she tries to figure out how to best take care of her.

Which ends up being Fred's bed.

[shootsnarkstare]

Ohhhh bedcovers are nice, Peyton discovers. You can poke your head underneath them and make tunnels.

And then there are sheets, too. It's like extra tunnels. THEY ALSO GO FOREVER. And then she reaches the corner of the bed and she is trapped.

WHY DO THE TUNNELS NOT GO FOREVER?

[doneanddoner]

Fred's already nearly waist-deep in her fridge as she searches for something that might resemble cat food. Cats like milk, right? Or is that just a myth?

She looks up just in time to catch the cat sneaking under the covers, and then watches in amusement as the little lump maneuvers its way into a corner. And promptly gets stuck.

"Silly thing," she says, tugging the covers out from where they're tucked under the bed and then peeling them back to uncover Peyton.

[shootsnarkstare]

And now the wriggling cat lump is no longer a lump but a cat staring up at Fred.

And then Peyton sneezes. And she gives a look at Fred that is very clearly, "Why are you just watching me sneeze? Don't you have something better to do? Possibly feed me?"

The narration is not sure if that is cat-brain or Peyton-brain. Because, well, it sounds like both.

[doneanddoner]

Fred isn't sure whether she speaks cat or not, but even she can interpret that look as a demand for food.

"Okay, okay. Hold on."

There is some milk, which thankfully, stayed good despite earlier blackouts, so she pours that into a small cup and then starts looking for something a little more solid.

"Have any preferences?" Even though it's pretty unlikely she'll get an answer, there's no harm in asking.