Here, Kitty, Kitty
Genre: Humor...and other stuff too.
Summary: Max wanted a simpler life. She got her wish. She reaaally ought to have been more specific.
Notes: Better this time with the updating, right? RIGHT? Eh heheh.
Damn you Stacy with your science! Okay, so calicos can very, very, VERY rarely be males. But these are the genetic anomalies. So let's just pretend that what I said about them always being females... is actually 100 per cent true. Science? Who needs you!
Here, Kitty, Kitty
- 3 -
They made a pit stop en route to Alec's place. Max was too busy battling with the contents of Alec's messenger bag to pay much attention to anything else. There was one particularly uppity water bottle that kept jostling her maliciously throughout the entire ride. Until one well-placed swipe of her claws put and end to all that.
Max blinked rapidly as she found herself suddenly exposed to the glare of artificial lights.
"Here we go. Home, sweet home," Alec announced, lifting her carefully to freedom.
Max jumped lightly from his hands and settled atop the kitchen counter as she quickly glanced about the familiar apartment. This would do, she supposed, as a temporary haven. Actually, it was fairly perfect. The guy was rarely home, as far she knew. That would leave her plenty of space to roam free without the fear of ending up road kill. And work on getting herself back in her body.
"What the hell?" Alec lifted the mangled water bottle in one hand as he assessed the damage to the sodden messenger bag. "Your doing, I'm guessing?" he said as he raised an eyebrow in her direction.
Lifting her nose in the air, she gave a disdainful flick of her right ear.
Alec finished removing the rest of the contents of the bag, and hung it to dry above the sink.
'What's this?' Max poked her nose in a plastic bag she'd previously overlooked, which had been placed a bit further along the counter. 'I smell something...'
"You found it."
She watched as the bag flew away. Okay, so it didn't fly away. Alec picked it up and carried it away—toward the aforementioned sink.
"I figured I'd need to pick up a little something for you, since I don't exactly have a whole lot 'a cat food stocked in here."
Max watched him with narrowed eyes as he rifled through the drawers. Did the guy make a habit out of talking to animals like they understood him or something? Well, of course, she did. But she wasn't really a cat, so this was different. And Alec was just plain weird.
Then a delicious scent tingled her nose...buds (did cats have nosebuds? was there such a thing as nosebuds?) and Alec and his weirdness were entirely forgotten.
And it was a little strange that normally she wasn't much of a tuna fan—but right now, it struck her as the most mouth-watering thing in the world.
"Here you go."
Max attacked the bowl. 'Ohhh, tuunna.'
Distantly, she heard Alec laugh.
'Eh...fuck 'im. Yum num num.'
She was licking up the final remnants of her meal when she realized embarrassedly that she'd been making a strange growling noise as she ate. Like she was killing the tuna before she ate it—and how nauseatingly cute was that?
Then she was attacked. By a towel, no less. Max rolled with her instincts, hissing and spitting as she prepared to battle her evil foe with claws, teeth, and whatever else she had at her disposal.
"Relax. Relax," she heard Alec's laughing voice coming from beyond the monster. "I just thought I'd dry you off a bit."
Realizing that wasn't an entirely bad idea (though he could've definitely given her a bit of a heads up... never mind that she had just finished thinking it was weird of him to be talking to animals like some sort of transgenic Doctor Dolittle or something), Max grudgingly settled down to let him finish the job.
"You're a scrawny little thing, aren't you?" he observed mildly.
'What the—' she sputtered indignantly. 'Am not!'
Max glared up at him as the towel disappeared, no longer obstructing her view of his stupid, lie-spewing face.
'I have curves in all the right places, buddy!'
She just didn't have them with her right now, to prove him wrong.
"Here, how 'bout a little bit of cream to help fatten you up?"
'Well... since it's sweet and delicious—because I'm not scrawny!'
She watched him toss the damp towel aside (slob) and pour himself a drink before wandering over to the living room. Soon, the low sounds of the television filled the apartment.
When the bowl was well and truly empty, and her eyes strangely heavy, Max decided to join him. Leaping onto the shabby couch, she let her nails knead the surface as she tried to find a comfortable perch. Alec glanced her way once, but was apparently unconcerned about the further desecration of his already desecrated furniture. Not like he paid for it anyway. (Not like she paid for hers—and she was sure she wouldn't care if some cat decided to scratch up that ugly monstrosity either. Although Cindy probably would, considering she was the one who'd gotten it.)
Finally, she decided, what the hell. If she was going to be trapped in the body of a cat, with full cat urges, she might as well act the part without inhibition. Hopping onto Alec's lap, she wriggled her butt before nestling down into a cozy surface. And then she realized her face was on his crotch.
Jumping like she'd just been burnt, Max bounded onto his stomach, her nails finding purchase in the cotton material of his shirt.
"Fucker!" he exclaimed. "Watch the claws around the goods." Grabbing a tattered couch cushion form nearby, Alec shoved the barrier over his lap.
'Goods.' Max laughed. It sounded like a sneeze.
She soon settled back onto the cushion and yawned, purring contentedly when Alec began to scratch at the magic spot behind her ears.
Okay, so today she'd give herself a break and get some rest. Because come tomorrow, it was going to be all about figuring out what the hell had happened, and how to get back into her body. Everyone would pick up on her absence soon enough, she knew. And then.… Well, then something would happen. Logan would figure something out. She just had to give it time.
"Hey, you know what?" Alec's rumbling voice cut into her thoughts, which were starting to turn toward, strangely enough, a giant ball of yarn...? "We still have to pick out a name for you."
Max cracked open one eye and gave him a look.
'What do you mean 'we'? All I can come up with is some variation of "meow."'
"I've never really named anything before. That's really more of a Max thing. Of course, she sucks at it like you wouldn't believe—"
"—but that's never stopped her. So I guess there's no reason why I can't do it too."
'So glad to provide you with inspiration. Fuckwad.' Max lifted her head, staring at him challengingly. 'Well, c'mon. Let's see what you got.'
"Huh. Well, let's see. 'Kitty' is so overdone..."
She began to lick at her paws absently.
"There's 'Princess', 'cause you sure act like one.'
"Whiskers. Fluffy." He grinned. "Puss—"
Alec ducked back just in time to miss the sudden swipe of a set of very sharp claws aimed directly for his face.
"Whoa there, tiger!"
The look of genuine shock on his features made her purr happily.
She watched as he brushed a hand over the bridge of his nose, assessing for damage though it was obvious there'd been no contact.
When he was confident that no damage had been wrought, Alec gave her a considering—and vaguely suspicious—look. "How about Tiger, then? Seeing as you definitely live up to the name."
Max cocked her head to one side as she thought this over.
Finally, she shrugged. Or the kitty equivalent of a shrug, which included turning her head away and going to sleep.
Whatever. She could live with it.