Yuletide Fic: Everybody Wants To Be A Cat
Author: Ashley
Everybody Wants To Be A Cat
disclaimer: not my characters
summary: pre-blackout Bass and a conversation. this is set on the day Bass' family is killed by the drunk driver.
warnings: language, implied slash.
author's notes: this was written as a treat for ladyoneill this year for yuletide. I really enjoyed getting into Bass' head several times this month, and am so pleased that folks seem to like this. I messed around with the ages of Charlie and Danny to make this work, and the title comes from Disney's The Aristocats. Feedback is love.
Bass sits by himself on the couch; Ben and Miles are arguing in the kitchen about something. Phrases like Dad wouldn’t have wanted that and I don’t even understand you anymore float to his ears, but he sips his whiskey and ignores them. Miles has always been weird about Ben, and then there’s -
“Bass.”
Ben’s ice-queen wife enters the room, glasses perched on her nose, a tablet in her hands, full of numbers and images Bass doesn’t care to look at or understand. He tries to like Rachel, he really does. But he gets the distinct impression she’s looking down at him, no matter what he’s doing or thinking or whatever, and he smiles perfunctorily at her and stares at the cold fireplace. He’s waiting for Miles, waiting for them to be finished with whatever they’re doing here so they can go out to Captain’s (a dumb name for a bar, but it has the best women to hit on) and take care of business. Melissa’s texted Bass like a hundred times already, and he’s ready to get gone.
Their leave is short and he wants to take advantage of the spare time. Miles has been distant and strange lately and Bass doesn’t want to think about that either; he wants to drink and fuck a random girl and then see if he can’t use his foggy, sex-satisfied brain to work a conversation out of Miles. Or something else, but he knows that’s a long shot.
“Rachel,” he says back. She stops and watches him with her head cocked, the expression and position making him think of a wind up doll, plastic and unfeeling and perfect and he has to drink the rest of his whiskey in order to get her unflinching gaze off him and out of his brain.
“You boys going out?”
“Yeah, as soon as Miles is done with Ben,” Bass replies, not wanting to go there with Rachel, of all people. She makes him nervous. He raises the glass to his lips and realizes he’s drunk all of it -
“You need some more?”
“No, thanks,” he shoots back quickly, not wanting her to think less of him. Why does that matter? He sits up straight and licks dry lips, hands wound together in his lap, his jeans and polo shirt suddenly feeling too warm. Odd, since it’s like a thousand degrees outside. Rachel slips her glasses to the top of her head and turns her neck the opposite way, the doll-like actions still there, and Bass swallows and curses internally as she sits next to him on the couch.
“How’s the base?”
“It’s fine.”
“You doing anything special over there right now?”
“Just intel. A few things I can’t talk about,” he frowns. Why is she asking?
“…don’t even know why you bother!”
“Because, you’re my brother, Miles. I’m not just going to up and forget what you’re doing for…”
Rachel’s face is still, a statue, only the muscle at the side of her jaw moving, tic-like, her blue eyes shining in the gloom of the living room. Her fingers hold her tablet, tight and white and Bass suddenly wonders if she feels the way he does when Miles and his brother are together. Maybe she’s not so freezing.
“How’s the kids?”
“Good. They’re good. Danny’s been home from the hospital for a while; he seems to be recovering well. Thank God,” she babbles, discussing the procedure of what Danny had had done, the little boy’s lungs never quite the way they should have been, her voice soft and worried and Bass starts to wonder just who this woman really is.
“Mommy?”
“Yes, Charlie?”
The little girl holds a stuffed rabbit and stands at the edge of the room. Her pj’s are decorated with some kind of cartoon cats, the big head on the thing scary and what the fuck do kids like these days anyway rattles through Bass’ head but Ben’s daughter comes into the room and stands at Rachel’s feet, studious and tall and serious and her face, man.
It’s Miles’ face.
Bass opens his mouth but Charlie beats him to it. “Danny’s coughing.”
Rachel’s face drains and she stands and abandons her tablet, tossing a “stay with Sebastian, Charlie,” over her shoulder as she mounts the stairs two at a time. Bass raises a hand and tries to tell her it’s fine, I’ll take her to Ben but the little girl promptly sits next to him on the couch, holding her bunny, weird cat pj’s staring at him. She tilts her head and looks at him and it’s fucking Miles and Bass has to clear his throat.
“Hi, Sebastian.”
“Hi, Charlotte.”
“Are you waiting for Uncle Miles?”
“Uh huh.”
“Are you going to the movies?”
“What? No, not tonight.”
“I like The Aristocats.”
“…I haven’t seen that one.”
“It’s about a family of cats in Paris. I can sing you a song from it, if you want.”
“…why don’t you just tell me the story, instead.”
So she does. For thirty minutes. Bass finds himself staring at her face, animated and sharp featured, the bunny in her hand flopping as she gestures, and then the cats play instruments, and they’re really good, and they do this song that has piano in it, and I really like it ‘cause the mom dances with the Tom cat and the kittens are singing too and Bass finds himself completely entranced with this tiny girl version of his best friend.
“But what about the crooks?”
“They’re dumb. They’re easy to get away from, but you think the family of cats might not make it for a while.” Bass nods, and then realizes he’s listening with all seriousness to a child talk about a movie about animated cats. That sing. And he’s caring about it.
He stands when Miles walks into the room, and Charlie’s face lights up like it’s Christmas and she’s seen Santa with a stack of Disney films ready to queue up. “Uncle Miles,” she says, jumping down off the couch, her bunny coming with her, “Sebastian wants to see this movie I was telling him about. You should watch it, instead of going out.”
“Yeah?” Miles says, swinging her up into his arms. Bass picks up his green canvas jacket and pulls the car keys from his pocket, ready to leave this strange house full of tension that never gets any better, no matter what they’re doing there or how much he drinks. “Which one, honey?”
She slings her legs around Miles and hangs on, a tiny blond monkey. “The Aristocats, duh.”
“Duh,” Bass echoes, and finds that the smile that stretches his face is real. She’s totally engaging. And he worries that she’ll be run over by the intensity that is her parents. And then he worries why he cares about this child he barely knows anything about, except that she has love for Miles the likes of which he’s never seen from anyone else in the Matheson family. It makes him a bit jealous, truth be told.
He lets the smile drift into a smirk as Miles laughs. “We’ve got that one at base, Charlie. I’m sure Bass can watch it later, when he’s got time to pay it proper attention.” Charlie frowns and Miles kisses her on the head, setting her down, her bunny drooping from her hand, her cat pj’s wrinkled from being held in his arms.
He squats down and chucks her under the chin. “Love you, kiddo. Be good. Take care of your mom and your brother for me, okay?”
“Yes, Uncle Miles.” She sounds down, and Bass aches for the child he knows has to be the adult a lot of the time in this house. “I will.”
“Bye, Charlotte,” Bass says, and touches her head briefly, the thick mass of blond hair shocking him with sudden static electricity. “Thanks for the story.” He turns toward the front door, waiting for Miles, ready to go be the person he knows how to be and to not worry about this family that is his family, too, no matter how strange and hurtful they are to Miles.
“Bye, Sebastian,” she says in a small voice. “We can watch the movie anytime you want.”
That forces a blossom of ache in him he hadn’t expected, and he turns back to her, crouching down. “I’d like that,” he says, and smiles at her, ignoring the laugh that is trying to break out of Miles. “See you later.”
“Okay,” she smiles back at him, and it’s a real smile, a kid’s carefree and sweet smile, and he feels a little better about leaving her there with her weird parents and sick brother. He stands and he and Miles wave at her as they leave, the shutting of the door behind them a quiet snick that has all the finality of pure silence.
They get to the car and Bass hands Miles the keys, the other man slipping behind the wheel and firing the Dodge up quickly, music spilling out in to the night, the air sticky and wet and Bass throws his jacket into the back seat, his curly hair crazy with the humidity. He props a knee up and rests his elbow on it, waiting for Miles to say something about the argument he and Ben had had.
Nothing, until Bass finally can’t stand it and asks.
“Nothing important,” is all that comes from Miles’ mouth.
“You sure?”
“Leave it, Bass.”
“Okay, Miles. Fuck,” Bass snaps back, angrier than he wants to be, especially because this side of Miles and Ben never changes. He doesn’t know why he even cares anymore, why he lets himself get involved. His own family is kind and generous and he loves them more than most anything else in his life - he reminds himself to check how they liked the Harry Potter thing they’d gone to earlier that evening.
Seeing his family, talking to them, makes him feel better about what Miles doesn’t have. And that hurts him - but he can’t help it. And he hates that too, because he wants Miles to have peace with his family. He wants Miles to have what he has, and he wants Miles to fucking forget Rachel and do something productive that doesn’t involve dangerous shit like screwing his brother’s wife. Which Bass really doesn't want to think about, right at this moment.
“Let’s go, Bass,” Miles says; Bass sees they’ve gotten to the bar without him realizing it.
They get out and go into Captain’s and drink and Bass can’t think of anything except Charlie’s little face and voice and how she looks so much like Miles and then he drinks some more, not wanting to remember that part.
When his phone buzzes with an unfamiliar number a few hours into it, he goes to answer it, finding he's happy to not have to make conversation with Miles that makes him think of the Matheson's and that house and the stilted feeling that surrounds it.
Everybody Wants To Be A Cat
disclaimer: not my characters
summary: pre-blackout Bass and a conversation. this is set on the day Bass' family is killed by the drunk driver.
warnings: language, implied slash.
author's notes: this was written as a treat for ladyoneill this year for yuletide. I really enjoyed getting into Bass' head several times this month, and am so pleased that folks seem to like this. I messed around with the ages of Charlie and Danny to make this work, and the title comes from Disney's The Aristocats. Feedback is love.
Bass sits by himself on the couch; Ben and Miles are arguing in the kitchen about something. Phrases like Dad wouldn’t have wanted that and I don’t even understand you anymore float to his ears, but he sips his whiskey and ignores them. Miles has always been weird about Ben, and then there’s -
“Bass.”
Ben’s ice-queen wife enters the room, glasses perched on her nose, a tablet in her hands, full of numbers and images Bass doesn’t care to look at or understand. He tries to like Rachel, he really does. But he gets the distinct impression she’s looking down at him, no matter what he’s doing or thinking or whatever, and he smiles perfunctorily at her and stares at the cold fireplace. He’s waiting for Miles, waiting for them to be finished with whatever they’re doing here so they can go out to Captain’s (a dumb name for a bar, but it has the best women to hit on) and take care of business. Melissa’s texted Bass like a hundred times already, and he’s ready to get gone.
Their leave is short and he wants to take advantage of the spare time. Miles has been distant and strange lately and Bass doesn’t want to think about that either; he wants to drink and fuck a random girl and then see if he can’t use his foggy, sex-satisfied brain to work a conversation out of Miles. Or something else, but he knows that’s a long shot.
“Rachel,” he says back. She stops and watches him with her head cocked, the expression and position making him think of a wind up doll, plastic and unfeeling and perfect and he has to drink the rest of his whiskey in order to get her unflinching gaze off him and out of his brain.
“You boys going out?”
“Yeah, as soon as Miles is done with Ben,” Bass replies, not wanting to go there with Rachel, of all people. She makes him nervous. He raises the glass to his lips and realizes he’s drunk all of it -
“You need some more?”
“No, thanks,” he shoots back quickly, not wanting her to think less of him. Why does that matter? He sits up straight and licks dry lips, hands wound together in his lap, his jeans and polo shirt suddenly feeling too warm. Odd, since it’s like a thousand degrees outside. Rachel slips her glasses to the top of her head and turns her neck the opposite way, the doll-like actions still there, and Bass swallows and curses internally as she sits next to him on the couch.
“How’s the base?”
“It’s fine.”
“You doing anything special over there right now?”
“Just intel. A few things I can’t talk about,” he frowns. Why is she asking?
“…don’t even know why you bother!”
“Because, you’re my brother, Miles. I’m not just going to up and forget what you’re doing for…”
Rachel’s face is still, a statue, only the muscle at the side of her jaw moving, tic-like, her blue eyes shining in the gloom of the living room. Her fingers hold her tablet, tight and white and Bass suddenly wonders if she feels the way he does when Miles and his brother are together. Maybe she’s not so freezing.
“How’s the kids?”
“Good. They’re good. Danny’s been home from the hospital for a while; he seems to be recovering well. Thank God,” she babbles, discussing the procedure of what Danny had had done, the little boy’s lungs never quite the way they should have been, her voice soft and worried and Bass starts to wonder just who this woman really is.
“Mommy?”
“Yes, Charlie?”
The little girl holds a stuffed rabbit and stands at the edge of the room. Her pj’s are decorated with some kind of cartoon cats, the big head on the thing scary and what the fuck do kids like these days anyway rattles through Bass’ head but Ben’s daughter comes into the room and stands at Rachel’s feet, studious and tall and serious and her face, man.
It’s Miles’ face.
Bass opens his mouth but Charlie beats him to it. “Danny’s coughing.”
Rachel’s face drains and she stands and abandons her tablet, tossing a “stay with Sebastian, Charlie,” over her shoulder as she mounts the stairs two at a time. Bass raises a hand and tries to tell her it’s fine, I’ll take her to Ben but the little girl promptly sits next to him on the couch, holding her bunny, weird cat pj’s staring at him. She tilts her head and looks at him and it’s fucking Miles and Bass has to clear his throat.
“Hi, Sebastian.”
“Hi, Charlotte.”
“Are you waiting for Uncle Miles?”
“Uh huh.”
“Are you going to the movies?”
“What? No, not tonight.”
“I like The Aristocats.”
“…I haven’t seen that one.”
“It’s about a family of cats in Paris. I can sing you a song from it, if you want.”
“…why don’t you just tell me the story, instead.”
So she does. For thirty minutes. Bass finds himself staring at her face, animated and sharp featured, the bunny in her hand flopping as she gestures, and then the cats play instruments, and they’re really good, and they do this song that has piano in it, and I really like it ‘cause the mom dances with the Tom cat and the kittens are singing too and Bass finds himself completely entranced with this tiny girl version of his best friend.
“But what about the crooks?”
“They’re dumb. They’re easy to get away from, but you think the family of cats might not make it for a while.” Bass nods, and then realizes he’s listening with all seriousness to a child talk about a movie about animated cats. That sing. And he’s caring about it.
He stands when Miles walks into the room, and Charlie’s face lights up like it’s Christmas and she’s seen Santa with a stack of Disney films ready to queue up. “Uncle Miles,” she says, jumping down off the couch, her bunny coming with her, “Sebastian wants to see this movie I was telling him about. You should watch it, instead of going out.”
“Yeah?” Miles says, swinging her up into his arms. Bass picks up his green canvas jacket and pulls the car keys from his pocket, ready to leave this strange house full of tension that never gets any better, no matter what they’re doing there or how much he drinks. “Which one, honey?”
She slings her legs around Miles and hangs on, a tiny blond monkey. “The Aristocats, duh.”
“Duh,” Bass echoes, and finds that the smile that stretches his face is real. She’s totally engaging. And he worries that she’ll be run over by the intensity that is her parents. And then he worries why he cares about this child he barely knows anything about, except that she has love for Miles the likes of which he’s never seen from anyone else in the Matheson family. It makes him a bit jealous, truth be told.
He lets the smile drift into a smirk as Miles laughs. “We’ve got that one at base, Charlie. I’m sure Bass can watch it later, when he’s got time to pay it proper attention.” Charlie frowns and Miles kisses her on the head, setting her down, her bunny drooping from her hand, her cat pj’s wrinkled from being held in his arms.
He squats down and chucks her under the chin. “Love you, kiddo. Be good. Take care of your mom and your brother for me, okay?”
“Yes, Uncle Miles.” She sounds down, and Bass aches for the child he knows has to be the adult a lot of the time in this house. “I will.”
“Bye, Charlotte,” Bass says, and touches her head briefly, the thick mass of blond hair shocking him with sudden static electricity. “Thanks for the story.” He turns toward the front door, waiting for Miles, ready to go be the person he knows how to be and to not worry about this family that is his family, too, no matter how strange and hurtful they are to Miles.
“Bye, Sebastian,” she says in a small voice. “We can watch the movie anytime you want.”
That forces a blossom of ache in him he hadn’t expected, and he turns back to her, crouching down. “I’d like that,” he says, and smiles at her, ignoring the laugh that is trying to break out of Miles. “See you later.”
“Okay,” she smiles back at him, and it’s a real smile, a kid’s carefree and sweet smile, and he feels a little better about leaving her there with her weird parents and sick brother. He stands and he and Miles wave at her as they leave, the shutting of the door behind them a quiet snick that has all the finality of pure silence.
They get to the car and Bass hands Miles the keys, the other man slipping behind the wheel and firing the Dodge up quickly, music spilling out in to the night, the air sticky and wet and Bass throws his jacket into the back seat, his curly hair crazy with the humidity. He props a knee up and rests his elbow on it, waiting for Miles to say something about the argument he and Ben had had.
Nothing, until Bass finally can’t stand it and asks.
“Nothing important,” is all that comes from Miles’ mouth.
“You sure?”
“Leave it, Bass.”
“Okay, Miles. Fuck,” Bass snaps back, angrier than he wants to be, especially because this side of Miles and Ben never changes. He doesn’t know why he even cares anymore, why he lets himself get involved. His own family is kind and generous and he loves them more than most anything else in his life - he reminds himself to check how they liked the Harry Potter thing they’d gone to earlier that evening.
Seeing his family, talking to them, makes him feel better about what Miles doesn’t have. And that hurts him - but he can’t help it. And he hates that too, because he wants Miles to have peace with his family. He wants Miles to have what he has, and he wants Miles to fucking forget Rachel and do something productive that doesn’t involve dangerous shit like screwing his brother’s wife. Which Bass really doesn't want to think about, right at this moment.
“Let’s go, Bass,” Miles says; Bass sees they’ve gotten to the bar without him realizing it.
They get out and go into Captain’s and drink and Bass can’t think of anything except Charlie’s little face and voice and how she looks so much like Miles and then he drinks some more, not wanting to remember that part.
When his phone buzzes with an unfamiliar number a few hours into it, he goes to answer it, finding he's happy to not have to make conversation with Miles that makes him think of the Matheson's and that house and the stilted feeling that surrounds it.