Love is a Three Letter Word (Coincidentally, so is Cat)

RATED: T for swearing.

A/N: I'd like to say that there was some weird event that inspired this fic. But, no, apparently I'm just crazy. Future!Fic and also so AU it hurts

The first time the U-HAUL truck rolls into Chorus Court, he knows something's going to go down. Something bad.

Sitting on the curb, he contemplatively licks his paw. It's sunny and hot outside, which marks the perfect weather to roll around and warm up- but he figures that won't be happening today. He's seen folks move in before, and it's a frenzy for hours and hours- his only objective then is to not get stepped on.

The first person to hop out of the truck is a pretty blonde girl- (well, no, actually it's an overweight bald guy in a blue jumpsuit. But he's not important, so we move on to second best) in a yellow summer dress. She's shielding the sun from her eyes with her left hand and inspecting the house when her gaze flickers to him, now moved to the front yard.

She turns to the man in the jumpsuit and points out Cat, shouting something. He looks up from his clipboard and shrugs, yelling back an answer.

"Just a stray."

Slowly, the girl nods and crouches to gives the cat a scratch behind the ears "Come in for free food any time. Just don't tell my husband, okay?" He meows his solidarity.

"Veronica!" She looks up to see a man climbing out of the car. He's dressed sharply in clothes that are way to warm for the climate.

"Yes, husband mine?"

"I remember the days when you just called me Logan."

"And the nights when I called you Sexy Bear."

Cat has a odd feeling about these folks.

He has a name now. She calls him Dingo.

Not that Boy cares, really. He just calls him 'Cat' or 'Scoundrel' most of the time, and the girl rolls her eyes and swats him with a dish towel. "Be nice, husband mine."

"I liked Sexy Bear better."

Neither of them is around a lot. The girl usually gets calls at the house and then goes out with a camera around her neck. When she comes back, she gives Cat the obligatory scratch-behind-the ears and makes a beeline for the computer, printing out a few glossy photographs. Sometimes she looks pleased. Sometimes she looks pissed, and that look is how he determines how much and what kind of food he's getting that day.

The boy is around even less, which makes her sad. The house is big and empty with only one person and one cat, and quiet, too. Cat doesn't mind, but the girl does. She says to Cat "Sometimes I wonder what he's really up to." Cat purrs and brushes against her arm.

They get in fights, sure, but nothing like the one Cat just saw. There was yelling and screaming and finally, Girl left.

She didn't come back the hour after that, or after that, or after that while Boy was pacing and calling and swearing and coming dangerously close to kicking Cat.

But the last call he made wasn't angry like the rest. It was brief and after a half hour later a food boy arrived at their doorstep with bags of Chinese take out. Boy sits on the couch with a white box and chopsticks, eating, silence. No television or music. Cat perches next to him with that big 'I want food look in his eyes' and Boy, surprisingly, hands him a tasty piece of chicken.

He thinks this is the start of a wonderful friendship.

Cat has another name now. Boy calls him Pez.

It's been three days since they've seen Girl, but Boy knows where she is. Every night he makes a call that goes the exact same way.

"No, I know she doesn't want to- just put her on, okay? For Chrissake, man, I just want to- Goddamnit!" He slams the phone down "Fuck it to Hell!" Boy was never one for swearing, but he does it all the time now.

After a while, the person stops picking up.

A week later and all is basically shot to hell. Boy makes no more phone calls, he goes to work and comes back in the afternoon (something that probably would have come in handy a while ago) feeds Cat, and goes out again for business lunches/dinners/Brunches what have you. It's like a broken record.

Then, out of nowhere, there Girl is, getting out of a car onto their doorstep. An older man leans out and tells her to be careful, and she says she will. Boy let Cat outside before he left for work so he's sitting on the curb, waiting patiently to get petted.

"Hey, Ding Bat." Girl greets, giving him a scratch. "Is anybody home?" Pause "I guess he's probably at work, huhn?" Meow. "That's what I thought." She sighs and sits on the curb. "Is he angry at me much, Dingo?" Worried. "Do you think that he'll...y'know, Welcome me back?" Surely it will be a scene that will make Meg Ryan weep with envy. "When's he getting home?" Six o' clock on the nose. "Do you think I should wait?" That'd probably be best. Pause. "God, I can't believe I'm talking to a cat."

Pssh. She says it like it's a bad thing.