Sep 30, 2010 19:52
George was curled into a ball and unable to enjoy all the interesting scents that were coming through around him. He wanted down, and away from the mean lady. This new place they had been taken to was full of interesting sounds and sights. He vaguely recalled being here, and he was pretty sure there were high places to hide from the mean people in.
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A fuzzy, annoyingly cute problem. Jim looked down at Spock still in his arms, and tried to figure out just how he was going to explain this to any of them. I'm sorry, liquor turned your friends/husband/whateverSpockistoNyotanow into a tiny kitten. We'll provide a litter box for the next few days.
Yea... no.
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"Alright," he said as he strode into Sickbay, immediately spotting Jim with a squirming black-and-white kitten in his arms, a security officer nearby holding another two in place. He stopped cold, and gestured to them - the furry little orange and brown ones were giving him unwanted flashbacks to this time someone had brought a tribble aboard the ship he'd been on, and he dearly hoped that was not the issue here. "The problem is...cats?"
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Jim only went to Sickbay if some bad shit was going down. Toweling off, he grabbed his bag of clothes and headed into Sickbay, where he spotted the Admiral already there. With Jim and security. And some cats.
He looked up at Jim, curious. "Where did they come from?"
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