MSPA - Coffee and Cats
Title: Coffee and Cats
Fandom: MSPA - Problem Sleuth + elements of Homestuck
Pairings: DD/PI
Description: Diamonds Droog finds that Pickle Inspector has a new tenant.
Rating: G
It is a quiet morning. Droog appreciates calmness - not only is it handy on the job, but it offers a little respite from the stress of running a whole city behind its back. This is part of why he enjoys PI’s home very, very much. Despite being an old and tumbledown ex-tenement that the Inspector had inherited, populated by clutter, there’s something very… relaxing about waking up there and shuffling to the kitchen to see the morning sun filtering through the myriad square windows along one side. Currently, Droog is preparing coffee and basking in the soft light.
Then, through the morning haze, he dimly realizes something’s rubbing up against his leg. Somewhere in his hindbrain he thinks it’s the Inspector, having crawled out of bed in a miserable attempt to be a better host for his guest. Droog looks down and says, “Inspector, please, I’ve told you a hundred times. Don’t do that.”
Apparently, Pickle Inspector turned into a brown and white cat overnight. The creature replies with a dulcet, trilling meow.
You pick the thing up and
BE THE OTHER GUY.
You are now Pickle Inspector. You don’t know it, but instead of having tea and scones in your imaginary world and chatting blithely with your god-self, you are dead asleep - tangled up in your thin covers and completely wrapped around one of your pillows. You’ve obviously been tossing and turning and generally making quite an unconscious fuss with your bed sheets. Abandon hope, all thee who try to sleep in the same bed as you!
Suddenly there is something very fluffy on your shoulders. It’s also rather claw-studded. You yelp, and the cat hisses and jumps off of you onto the headboard, and you nearly tumble out of bed. Your houseguest catches you before you crash onto the floor, though.
“Ghrk - D-D-Droog!” you manage to articulate. “Whh…?”
“Explain the cat. Now.”
You look up at the cat. It’s (you haven’t figured out its sex yet) perched on your headboard, looking at you with big blue eyes. Then it gets disinterested and begins to wash itself. Despite your grogginess, you smile at it.
“I-it’s… It’s my… kitty,” you say somewhat dumbly. You struggle to find words beyond the vocabulary of a third grader. “I was - we were on a c-case, very strange, m-man using animals to smuggle il-illicit goods… w-we investigated, a-and crashed the place, a-and I saw this one, and…” You look back to Droog and smile up at him apologetically. “I. I guess you see w-what happened?”
Droog scrutinizes you for a moment, completely blank. Then, he reaches up and runs a hand through your mussed hair, smoothing it down a little. Then he reaches up to the cat and starts petting it. It responds with a happy little rumble. You sit up and smile at them.
“Does she have a name?”
“Um. She?”
“Yes,” Droog says, scratching under the cat’s chin. “As far as I can tell, she’s female. Does she have a name?”
“Um, I… I-I think so? …I don’t remember it…” You trail off awkwardly at the last bit, suddenly embarrassed that you can’t even remember your own cat’s name. Droog looks at her for a moment, as if sizing her up.
“Her name should be Cecily,” he says, and that’s that. It’s probably a much better name than anything you came up with. He pulls his hand away and walks back out of the room, saying: “If you want some coffee, you’d best come and get it.”
You look up at your cat, the newly-christened Cecily, and she meows at you and climbs down into your lap by way of your shoulders. Her tail flicks absently under your nose, and you smile when it tickles and sneeze when it agitates your allergies. You hadn’t really thought about that before you’d volunteered to take her home, but hey; you have it on good authority that nobody’s perfect.
Some people get very close, though.
You scoop up Cecily and shuffle out of bed, following the scent of fresh-brewed coffee and the soft morning sunlight in the kitchen.
Fandom: MSPA - Problem Sleuth + elements of Homestuck
Pairings: DD/PI
Description: Diamonds Droog finds that Pickle Inspector has a new tenant.
Rating: G
It is a quiet morning. Droog appreciates calmness - not only is it handy on the job, but it offers a little respite from the stress of running a whole city behind its back. This is part of why he enjoys PI’s home very, very much. Despite being an old and tumbledown ex-tenement that the Inspector had inherited, populated by clutter, there’s something very… relaxing about waking up there and shuffling to the kitchen to see the morning sun filtering through the myriad square windows along one side. Currently, Droog is preparing coffee and basking in the soft light.
Then, through the morning haze, he dimly realizes something’s rubbing up against his leg. Somewhere in his hindbrain he thinks it’s the Inspector, having crawled out of bed in a miserable attempt to be a better host for his guest. Droog looks down and says, “Inspector, please, I’ve told you a hundred times. Don’t do that.”
Apparently, Pickle Inspector turned into a brown and white cat overnight. The creature replies with a dulcet, trilling meow.
You pick the thing up and
BE THE OTHER GUY.
You are now Pickle Inspector. You don’t know it, but instead of having tea and scones in your imaginary world and chatting blithely with your god-self, you are dead asleep - tangled up in your thin covers and completely wrapped around one of your pillows. You’ve obviously been tossing and turning and generally making quite an unconscious fuss with your bed sheets. Abandon hope, all thee who try to sleep in the same bed as you!
Suddenly there is something very fluffy on your shoulders. It’s also rather claw-studded. You yelp, and the cat hisses and jumps off of you onto the headboard, and you nearly tumble out of bed. Your houseguest catches you before you crash onto the floor, though.
“Ghrk - D-D-Droog!” you manage to articulate. “Whh…?”
“Explain the cat. Now.”
You look up at the cat. It’s (you haven’t figured out its sex yet) perched on your headboard, looking at you with big blue eyes. Then it gets disinterested and begins to wash itself. Despite your grogginess, you smile at it.
“I-it’s… It’s my… kitty,” you say somewhat dumbly. You struggle to find words beyond the vocabulary of a third grader. “I was - we were on a c-case, very strange, m-man using animals to smuggle il-illicit goods… w-we investigated, a-and crashed the place, a-and I saw this one, and…” You look back to Droog and smile up at him apologetically. “I. I guess you see w-what happened?”
Droog scrutinizes you for a moment, completely blank. Then, he reaches up and runs a hand through your mussed hair, smoothing it down a little. Then he reaches up to the cat and starts petting it. It responds with a happy little rumble. You sit up and smile at them.
“Does she have a name?”
“Um. She?”
“Yes,” Droog says, scratching under the cat’s chin. “As far as I can tell, she’s female. Does she have a name?”
“Um, I… I-I think so? …I don’t remember it…” You trail off awkwardly at the last bit, suddenly embarrassed that you can’t even remember your own cat’s name. Droog looks at her for a moment, as if sizing her up.
“Her name should be Cecily,” he says, and that’s that. It’s probably a much better name than anything you came up with. He pulls his hand away and walks back out of the room, saying: “If you want some coffee, you’d best come and get it.”
You look up at your cat, the newly-christened Cecily, and she meows at you and climbs down into your lap by way of your shoulders. Her tail flicks absently under your nose, and you smile when it tickles and sneeze when it agitates your allergies. You hadn’t really thought about that before you’d volunteered to take her home, but hey; you have it on good authority that nobody’s perfect.
Some people get very close, though.
You scoop up Cecily and shuffle out of bed, following the scent of fresh-brewed coffee and the soft morning sunlight in the kitchen.