Chapter Text
My phone rang just as I pulled into the parking lot behind Blake’s apartment building to pick them up on Thursday morning and, noting the number on the readout, I knew I couldn’t ignore it. I’d intended to meet Blake at her apartment in case they needed help carrying anything down to the car, but they ended up meeting me in the parking lot just as I was finishing up the call.
“Everything okay?” they asked, hoisting their duffle bag into the trunk and turning to face me with a concerned wrinkle peeking out from the hair that had fallen over their brow. They were clearly dressed for comfort today in dark green bike shorts and a t-shirt that was so oversized that the only reason I knew they were wearing bike shorts at all was because the duffle bag had caught on the edge of the shirt as they’d exited the building, exposing the green fabric underneath. I let my gaze dip down to the yellow converse sneakers that matched the colour of the tee almost perfectly and couldn’t help but think they looked like sunshine in human form. My own worn dark wash jeans and grey tee seemed like a black hole in comparison.
“Pierre?” Blake prompted, drawing my gaze back to their face and the worry still etched there, reminding me that they’d asked a question.
“Fine,” I assured them. “We need to make a stop before we leave Trenton.”
Blake shrugged, adjusting their t-shirt when it started to slip, exposing one shoulder. “Sure,” they said, moving toward the passenger door. “Another errand for Nikki?”
I let my lips quirk up into a smile. “Not quite.” We both climbed into the SUV and caught sight of the curiosity on their face as I buckled up. “Pet motel called,” I explained. “Seems Applepuff has disappeared overnight.”
“Oh no!”
The concern was immediately back on Blake’s face at the news, so I shook my head and quickly assured them, “This happens every time. ‘Puff doesn’t like the pet hotel, nor does she like abiding by the rules, so she sneaks out of her enclosure while the staff are distracted. She’ll be in one of three places, which is what I told the attendant who called just now. The visit is more for their sake than mine.”
Sure enough, when I walked into the pet motel reception, the woman at the front desk - Jenny - was immediately gushing at me, trying to assure me that everything was okay, they’d found her, and she was so sorry they’d disturbed my holiday, and would I like a discount for their stay to make up for it? It took several long moments and a few attempts before I could cut her off and let her know that it was really no trouble to stop by, at which point she’d finally led Blake and me back to the motel room that my three fur babies would be sharing for the next few nights.
She let us in, and within seconds Applepuff was winding around my legs and purring. I picked up the little troublemaker just as Snowball let out a hello meow and Pretzel… I let out a sigh as my dear, little idiot stretched out from her twisted sleeping position, the one that had decided her name, and promptly rolled off the top perch of the cat tree. She stood at the bottom, looking slightly dazed for a moment, before glancing around, almost as if she was checking to see if anyone had witnessed her fall, then she plopped down and licked her paw like nothing had happened.
I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t keep the smile off my face at the sound of Blake’s startled laughter. “Oh my goodness,” they cooed, approaching Pretzel slowly and bending down to offer a hand to sniff, introducing themself. “Oh you poor baby. Are you okay?” I would have loved to just watch them befriend the orange furball, but Applepuff had other ideas, stretching up from her position against my chest and nipping at my earlobe to gain my attention.
“Just because you don’t like it here doesn’t mean you can terrorise the staff,” I told Applepuff firmly, dragging my hand down her back and then scratching under her chin, and marvelling at the fact that talking to the cat in such a human way in front of Blake didn’t make me feel weird like it did when anyone else was in the same vicinity as me and my cats. “I already told you that you have to stay here for five nights. That’s four more, ‘Puff. Four.” I held up four fingers in front of her nose despite the fact that I knew she couldn’t count, and she leaned forward with her mouth open to try to bite me. “No. No biting. Not me. And definitely not the staff. Be a good girl and I’ll let you get high when I get home, okay?”
Blake’s snort drew my gaze over to where they now sat cross-legged on the floor with Pretzel slumped contentedly in their lap, already asleep and purring again, and Snowball rubbing her face against their hand. The sight made my chest clench, noting how comfortable they all seemed, how quickly the cats had accepted Blake. “You’re bribing your cats with drugs?” they asked.
“Don’t be silly,” I responded easily. “They’re not gonna remember by the time I pick them up on Monday.”
They sent me a mildly scandalised look. “So you’re lying to your fur babies? The very cats who love and adore you? I should call the SPCA!”
Unfortunately, Jenny walked past just as the words came out of Blakes mouth, and the immediate fear on her face might have been funny, if not for the fact that apologies started spilling from her lips faster than I could have tried to react. “Mr. Sherman, I’m so sorry! I don’t know how it happened. She was there when we did our checks late last night, and then this morning when I went in to feed them, she was-”
“Jenny, it’s fine.” I kept a firm hold on Applepuff when she started to try and wriggle out of my grasp. I wasn’t done with her. “Blake isn’t calling the SPCA. Sh-uh, They were teasing me for lying to the cats about rewards.” I cringed at the almost slip in referring to Blake as a she. I was doing pretty well remembering mentally, but my tongue wasn’t quite up to speed, apparently. “It’s a joke,” I added to Jenny. “Everything is fine.”
“But Applepuff-”
I shook my head. “‘Puff is an escape artist. She does this every time. She’ll accept her fate by tonight, and you shouldn’t have any more problems. But if she tries it again, you know where to find her now, right?”
Jenny nodded tearfully. “I added a note to her file on the computer.”
“Probably a good idea to add it to the ‘about us’ sign on the door, too,” Blake pointed out, nodding to the A4 print out that had a picture of each of the cats, a bit about their personalities, and their feeding schedule.
Jenny nodded, wringing her hands together as she looked from Blake, to me, to the sign on the door. It took another couple minutes to reassure her that no authorities would be called, no reports would be made, and to calm her down enough that she no longer looked like she was on the verge of tears as she returned to her duties.
I set ‘Puff on top of the cat tree Pretzel had so unceremoniously abandoned upon our arrival, and held her face between both my hands so she couldn’t look away from me. “No more Houdinis,” I told her firmly. “Be a good girl.” Her jaw hinged open on a wide yawn and I rubbed my thumbs over her brow before I released her. “If I get another panicked call from the staff here, there’ll be no catnip.” Applepuff huffed and settled into a loaf position on the tree, eyeing me imperiously.
Leaning down, I put my face close to hers, pleased when the cat deigned to give me a kiss but booping her nose to my cheek. I then called Pretzel over, instructing her to jump up onto the next level down on the cat tree, leaning close and receiving another booping kiss. And finally, I crossed to where Snowball had set herself up in the hammock attached to the window so she could watch the wildlife outside and leaned in for a third and final kiss goodbye.
We said nothing on the way out of the motel, aside from thanking the staff as we passed through reception, but Blake had a grin on their face that was so wide I worried that it would split the top half of their head straight off.
Having experienced similar behaviour from Lester, and learned to regret asking what he was so happy about, because it inevitably led to his special brand of tease-joking, I elected to ignore Blake’s grin as we got back into the SUV. I made sure the places Nikki needed me to stop and pick things up were still preloaded into my maps app on my phone so I could get to the directions easily, made sure Blake was buckled in and ready, and backed out of the parking space.
I thought it might become one of those situations where they were waiting for me to ask. Where they would stare at the side of my face while I drove until I finally relented and asked what they were grinning about. But, thankfully, I was reminded of how not-Lester Blake was when they broke the silence as we paused at the first intersection. And I had to stop myself from breathing an audible sigh of relief.
“Where to first?” they asked, reaching up to sift their hand through their hair, then smoothly transitioning into tying it up in a knot on the top of their head with the hair elastic I hadn't previously noticed on their wrist.
In answer, I pointed to the glove compartment. “Itinerary is in there.”
“You made up an itinerary?” Blake asked incredulously. They didn’t hesitate to retrieve the email attachment from Nikki that I’d printed out just in case, and then a sound of understanding was filling the car. “Ah. I see Nikki still hasn’t learned to chill.”
“I did mention she just finished her Masters in Event Management, right?” I pointed out, glancing at them as they read through the meticulously detailed document. She'd planned the day down to the minute, including when and where to stop for lunch and bathroom breaks. If she went into any more detail, I think there'd be a second-to-second account of when to breathe. “I don’t think my sister has been chill a single day in her life. And this festival is a really big deal for her. She’s trying to idiot proof it.”
“And you're the supposed idiot she’s trying to proof?” Blake questioned, flipping the page to find still more instructions.
I shook my head as I navigated onto the highway. “I don't take it personally. She would have done the same for anyone she tasked with picking up her stuff for her.”
“Still, it's a lot.”
I didn't disagree, because they weren't wrong. Nikki was an overachiever. Always had been. And at least in part, it was a learned behaviour from our Mom. But growing up with their particular brand of stress-induced need for scheduling had prepared me well for a life in the military, and pandering to their impossibly high standards had served me well in preparation for working for Ranger.
We lapsed into an easy, companionable silence. Nothing between us but the quiet jazz - my usual driving playlist - just audible through the car speakers, and the sounds of the road and cars around us. It was peaceful in a way that sharing space with anyone else wasn't.