Wandering [Here and there, Open]

[de_forest]

De had been sleeping more than he thought possible. Certainly more than he needed to. But when sleep brought dreams like that one, dreams that bought Carolyn to him (he dared to think of her in his dreams as Carolyn now. She was. She was. She was there), then he couldn't feel guilty about sleeping. He had had several more dreams like that one

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[de_forest]

De had not wandered far from his rooms when he heard a voice call out his name. His first instinct, upon hearing the voice, was that it was Bill - it sounded a bit like Bill - but Bill rarely called him DeForest, and there was something different about the tone of voice that stopped De from blurting out "Bill?" as he turned.

Just as well, as it was not Bill who was standing there looking at him.

"Jim," he said, sounding a bit surprised, and then wondering whether he should call him Jim at all, and then wondering what on earth he was going to say next. He stood there for a moment, at a bit of a loss, just looking at Jim.

It was then that he felt the soft pressure of something curling around his ankles, and he glanced down at the floor. "Kitty!," he exclaimed, happily, reaching down to scoop the cat up into his arms, "where have you been? I've been wondering about you. Have you eaten?" He tickled the cat under the chin as he spoke.

De looked back up at Jim, almost smiling as he held and stroked the cat. "Do you know anything about this kitty? I mean, it was in our quarters for a while, but then it disappeared..."

[original_fine]

Jim glanced at the picture of De and the cat with some little surprised, but he was struck mostly at how natural the man seemed with the creature. How well it fit. De had seemed startled and uncomfortable at his approach, but the cat had relaxed him considerably. Well. He wasn't sure he could imagine Bones with a fluffy kitty, but now he was curious about trying it.

"I think she's Spock's," he said. "The young one. But other than that, I've no idea. I'm not really..." His brow furrowed. "I don't really get... cats."

[de_forest]

"There isn't much to get, with cats. You just have to let them...well, be. No point trying to understand. You'd never get anywhere." De may have been more comfortable standing there, holding the cat, but his eyes still didn't meet Jim's. He concentrated on the cat, shifting it into a more comfortable position on his shoulder, and giving the cat a nice long stroke.

"Spock's? But...not..not your Spock's?" He hesitated slightly the use of "your", but could think of no other way of saying it. It was true, anyway, wasn't it? He glanced up at Jim briefly. "...I haven't ever seen the other Spock." That said, he turned his attention back to the cat.

"I suppose that means that you have a name? I feel a bit silly calling you 'Kitty' now." He tickled the cat's chin again.

[original_fine]

Jim noted the way De's eyes failed to meet his, his body language, his willingness to engage with the cat. His likely relief that the cat was there to focus his attention on something other than the man in front of him.

"No, not mine," he said softly. The designations were problematic, as he'd observed before. They needed some type of code. "I think... I think I heard her called 'Yontaya.' I'm not sure what it means."

He toyed with asking whether De wanted to be left alone, but decided to err on the side of De being left alone far too much. And see if he could alter that, just a little.

[de_forest]

"Yontaya..." De repeated. "Yontaya. That's a pretty name for a pretty cat. Is that your name? Yontaya?" His voice had increased in pitch, the way people tended to talk to animals, as if that somehow would make themselves understood. It wasn't a conscious decision, it was just how De had always spoken to his pets, and animals he had met. To Cheers, and Fancy, Myrtle, and Deaken; he had always spoken to them as if they could understand, as if he expected an answer.

"Doesn't matter what it means, if it is a good name," De said, in Jim's direction. "It suits her. I guess it's a her. Yontaya sounds feminine..." He stood there for a moment, stroking the cat, and smiling as she began to purr.

"I never had a cat," he blurted out. "...I take it that you've never had one either? You've met Yontaya before though?" De took a couple of steps back towards Jim. He was beginning to feel a bit silly, having a conversation down the length of a corridor.

[original_fine]

That was good--De was continuing the conversation. "Tina told me she was female, when we met in a hallway much like this one," he offered. "And it is a pretty name. I never had one, no. There were cats in the barn, but they weren't really pets."

Well, he mother had liked them, but he'd never paid them much mind.

"She seems to like you, though."

[de_forest]

De buried his head in Yontaya's fur, and mumbled, "S'like you're the only one, sometimes, kitty," before feeling guilty for evening thinking those words, let alone saying them. He hoped Jim hadn't heard them. They weren't even true, were they? Other people liked him, they did. Bill and Len did, he knew they did.

Do they?

Stop it. Shut up. Shut up. Stop it.

"Oh. Sorry," he muttered, raising his head again, and almost, but not quite meeting Jim's gaze. He didn't really know why he was apologising for, but it just seemed right to apologise for everything at the moment. An almost constant perception of having done something wrong. Without knowing what. "Did you have other pets, though?" he asked, absently stroking Yontaya from head to tail.

[original_fine]

De... wasn't well. It filled Jim with dismay, because he didn't know what to do, and the man looked so like Bones, and he knew Bill and Len loved him. And sometimes, Jim knew, that just wasn't enough. He was glad De had the cat, though, if only briefly. Maybe they could see about a more permanent pet.

"Dogs," he said. "And I always liked horses." He spoke conversationally, not too overbearing, trying to give De room to respond. He could do so, when he thought about it. "What about you?"

[de_forest]

"Dogs as well," he said. "Two, Fancy and Cheers." He missed them. He missed them all. He missed sitting in the garden with them. Enjoying the sun. "And Myrtle. She's..she was a turtle. Well, a tortoise, if you're going to be accurate about these things."

[original_fine]

Jim laughed. "Myrtle the tortoise? I like it. I always liked dogs. Loyal, direct. Simple. Just running is joy for them. I admire that."

[de_forest]

"Myrtle was a dear thing," De said, "and things just wouldn't have been the same without a dog around. Friend of ours," he paused, thoughts of Carolyn flooding his mind, "friend of ours," he continued, semi nuzzling his face into Yontaya's fur, "had a serval cat called Deke. Closest thing we ever got to a cat."

[vulcans_purr]

(OOC - Sorry! Someone just let me know I hadn't replied! I thought I had this thread tracked and just no one had responded!)

{like warm-safe-animal}

purrrrrrrrrrr..........

{will make everything okay}

{kneadkneadknead}

{crawl up to shoulder, settle}

{nuzzle big-person ear, purr into it}

[de_forest]

[OOC - No worries!]

De relaxed some more as Yontaya purred into his ear, nuzzling gently. "Aren't you sweet," he whispered, not caring, really, that Jim was standing there watching him talk to the cat like this, "Do you like being stroked? Do you like that, yes?" He rubbed his hand gently down Yontaya's length again, softly running his fingers through her fur.

[original_fine]

Jim smiled, watching De. It seemed so incongruous, but it pleased him. De was good with the cat. Good with animals. McCoy was gentle, too, but it was different. Then again, Jim was seeing DeForest not at his best. But with Yontaya, he was better than Jim had seen him yet.

"You're good with her," he said softly.

[vulcans_purr]

{do like, do like!}

{streeeeeetch into hand}

{right there, no to the left, no--yes! there!}

{fur ripple}

purrrrrrrrrr....

{kneadkneadknead into shoulder}

{see? make everything better}

[de_forest]

"..mmm, thanks," De muttered, quietly, in Jim's direction. "Comes with practice, I guess. Plus, cats know these things. They know if you like them, or if you don't. And if you don't, they just sit on you more. Least, that's what I think."

Yontaya (such a pretty name, for a pretty cat) was purring, reverberating over his shoulder. It was very relaxing. Soothing. He stroked her again, before scratching behind her ears softly. "Did you find some more food, little one? Did your owner feed you?" he asked the cat, almost purring out the words himself, just a hint of concern audible at the edges.