Furball and Claws (2/?)
anonymous
July 22 2014, 20:57:45 UTC
The first evening seemed to go smoothly. The cat had stayed her distance from Garrus, happily feasting on the dried food Shepard had stocked up and curling up in a bed in a corner where the kitchen and living room intersected. She left Garrus alone while he looked over some data pads, wandering between her bed and the food bowls a couple of times before he went to bed.
The next morning he was not so lucky.
Garrus had camped out in the spare room not taken over by pastel colours and butterflies and a bed appropriate for an eighteen month old human but few others. That one was plain and utilitarian, albeit with some hints towards potentially becoming a second nursery -- paint swatches and a couple of home decor magazines open to nursery pages. He'd ensured the door was closed behind him, and with no outside windows when the lights went out it was almost pitch black.
So to wake up with a heavy weight on his back that turned out to be Shepard's cat was not what he had expected. She peered at the back of his head with intense concentration, front paws pressed together. When she noticed Garrus was awake and moving, she let out a small meow.
Unfortunately, Garrus couldn't move without moving her, and all his attempts at gently dislodging her failed. Somehow she managed to cling on through his efforts, continuing to give him the same curious look. One quick jolt had the cat draw out her claws, but she couldn't gain any purchase on Garrus' carapace and sent her sliding down onto the bed.
The cat looked momentarily stunned, letting out a small meow a few seconds later. She turned a glare at Garrus, fully considering the whole thing to be his fault. She got back on all four paws and started batting at Garrus' arm, intermingling the pats with meows that started to sound more and more frustrated to Garrus.
"All right, what time did you wake me up," Garrus mumbled to himself. Thankfully, checking his omni-tool showed that it was just creeping up on six which was a reasonable time for him to be waking up anyway. As soon as Garrus moved to get out of bed, the cat leapt down and dashed towards the door, leaving Garrus to watch as the doors obligingly opened for her.
"Well, it makes sense that the doors would recognise you."
A few short minutes later, Garrus was in the kitchen and attempting to get breakfast for both himself and the cat. The cat was making it difficult by continually weaving in and out of Garrus' legs, occasionally standing up on her back legs and rubbing her chin against his leg spurs. Whenever he moved she let out a meow before trotting over and continuing her ministrations.
When Garrus put down some fresh food and water, the cat ran over and began eating. Three mouthfuls later, she stopped and hopped up onto one of the barstools, peering over intently at Garrus' breakfast. Garrus matched looks with the cat, but she didn't back down. Instead, he could see her small nose twitching, eyes focused on his plate.
"Does Shepard let you beg food from her?" Garrus said, keeping his eyes focused on the cat and one arm wrapped cautiously around his plate. Damn animal was worse than a group of hungry cadets in training. "No, Shepard doesn't let you," Garrus continued, tracking the cat's gaze. "Elena probably shares all her food with you."
Garrus pulled his plate away as the cat swiped a paw out; she caught nothing, thankfully, and Garrus held his plate up high enough that he could eat without worry the cat would try and steal some.
Re: Furball and Claws (2/?)
anonymous
July 24 2014, 03:35:13 UTC
Heh, 'the whole thing to be his fault.' At least he managed not to almost step on her when she decided that right behind his legs was the right place to wait for food. I also had a good laugh at 'worse than a group of hungry cadets in training.'
Re: Furball and Claws (2/?)
anonymous
July 25 2014, 09:02:31 UTC
(Whoops thought I'd responded to this.) Yup, even though Garrus could not have gotten up without disturbing the cat, she still paints it as his fault. The cat's quite used to having a toddler stomp around so she knows how to get out of the way quickly.
Re: Furball and Claws (2/?)
anonymous
July 24 2014, 14:42:24 UTC
Oh God... This is one of the Awesome-est fills ever, i was actually reading this with my cat on my lap, and when i was done reading i just had to look down at him and pat him
Re: Furball and Claws (2/?)
anonymous
July 24 2014, 21:23:36 UTC
*blushing* Thank you! Some of the inspiration behind Shepard's cat is from my own (sadly departed almost a year ago) little kitty who I had almost fifteen years. Garrus shares more than a few frustrations with my husband -- "No, this is my food, not yours.", followed by a pleading meow.
The next morning he was not so lucky.
Garrus had camped out in the spare room not taken over by pastel colours and butterflies and a bed appropriate for an eighteen month old human but few others. That one was plain and utilitarian, albeit with some hints towards potentially becoming a second nursery -- paint swatches and a couple of home decor magazines open to nursery pages. He'd ensured the door was closed behind him, and with no outside windows when the lights went out it was almost pitch black.
So to wake up with a heavy weight on his back that turned out to be Shepard's cat was not what he had expected. She peered at the back of his head with intense concentration, front paws pressed together. When she noticed Garrus was awake and moving, she let out a small meow.
Unfortunately, Garrus couldn't move without moving her, and all his attempts at gently dislodging her failed. Somehow she managed to cling on through his efforts, continuing to give him the same curious look. One quick jolt had the cat draw out her claws, but she couldn't gain any purchase on Garrus' carapace and sent her sliding down onto the bed.
The cat looked momentarily stunned, letting out a small meow a few seconds later. She turned a glare at Garrus, fully considering the whole thing to be his fault. She got back on all four paws and started batting at Garrus' arm, intermingling the pats with meows that started to sound more and more frustrated to Garrus.
"All right, what time did you wake me up," Garrus mumbled to himself. Thankfully, checking his omni-tool showed that it was just creeping up on six which was a reasonable time for him to be waking up anyway. As soon as Garrus moved to get out of bed, the cat leapt down and dashed towards the door, leaving Garrus to watch as the doors obligingly opened for her.
"Well, it makes sense that the doors would recognise you."
A few short minutes later, Garrus was in the kitchen and attempting to get breakfast for both himself and the cat. The cat was making it difficult by continually weaving in and out of Garrus' legs, occasionally standing up on her back legs and rubbing her chin against his leg spurs. Whenever he moved she let out a meow before trotting over and continuing her ministrations.
When Garrus put down some fresh food and water, the cat ran over and began eating. Three mouthfuls later, she stopped and hopped up onto one of the barstools, peering over intently at Garrus' breakfast. Garrus matched looks with the cat, but she didn't back down. Instead, he could see her small nose twitching, eyes focused on his plate.
"Does Shepard let you beg food from her?" Garrus said, keeping his eyes focused on the cat and one arm wrapped cautiously around his plate. Damn animal was worse than a group of hungry cadets in training. "No, Shepard doesn't let you," Garrus continued, tracking the cat's gaze. "Elena probably shares all her food with you."
Garrus pulled his plate away as the cat swiped a paw out; she caught nothing, thankfully, and Garrus held his plate up high enough that he could eat without worry the cat would try and steal some.
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