Inception Fic - The Gumbie Cat Part 2 (Eames/Arthur)
Title: The Gumbie Cat (Part 2)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Arthur/Eames
Warnings: language
Notes: Takes place in the world of the musical CATS.
Wordcount: 2088
Summary: This is the sequel to A Horrible Muddle and should be read after that one. Arthur and Eames go to visit Robert and get themselves into trouble.
Part 1
-aaa-
“I am so sorry about this…” Robert said again, but Arthur ignored him. He had already assured the other cat that it wasn’t his fault. Right now he was more concerned about how he was going to get out from under his plastic cage and back outside where he could see if Eames was… Where he could see Eames.
“Can you push the box off the top of this thing?” Arthur asked, interrupting Robert’s apologizing. Mrs. Fischer had stacked a box of heavy books on top of the laundry basket while she went into the other room.
“I can try,” Robert said doubtfully, and started looking ashamed again. “I mean, I’ll try right now.” He climbed up next to the box and examined it. “What are you going to do next? She closed the window.”
“I’ll figure something out.”
From the kitchen, Mrs. Fischer’s voice was rising. “Yes, yes, that’s what I said! No, I don’t know how it got in… I suppose through the window. Well, it’s my business if I have the damn window open, isn’t it? Dirty strays shouldn’t just wander in!” She sighed heavily. “Just come pick it up! No, I didn’t! What if it has rabies of something?”
“Hurry!” said Arthur. He started pushing on the basket in the other direction.
“I don’t know, Arthur; it’s really heavy. I can’t tell if it’s going anywhere.” Robert sounded miserable.
“Keep trying…”
“Yes. Yes, you have the address. Come right away. Fifteen minutes? Yes, I suppose that will do. Thank you.” The phone was slammed back into its cradle. “Fucking idiots…” Her footsteps rang off the tile as she moved around in the kitchen, and Arthur and Robert renewed their efforts. “Hey, get down from there!” Mrs. Fischer shouted, marching back into the bathroom. She grabbed Robert around the middle and dropped him in the kitchen, closing the bathroom door. For a few minutes Arthur could hear him crying on the other side, then it was quiet again.
The silence stretched. Arthur didn’t have any way of measuring the passing time. It could have been minutes or hours. He paced back and forth, trying not to think about Eames, trying to comfort himself when he couldn’t stop himself with the fact that Eames was a hardy cat. He had taken falls before. He would be okay. Then he started breathing too fast and had to sit down. He had never considered himself to be a particularly nervous cat, despite Eames’s insistence that he was high-strung. He just preferred to be in control of his situation. Which, at the moment, he most certainly was not. His ears flicked back and he let out a soft, hopeless meow.
He almost jumped out of his skin when there was a loud bang on the door, his tail fluffing impressively. “Robert?” he yowled. “What’s going on?”
“There’s a man here,” came Robert’s soft reply. He sounded much subdued. Arthur hoped nothing had happened to him.
“Would you watch what you’re doing?!” Mrs. Fischer’s shrill yell did nothing to ease the tension coiling down Arthur’s spine. “What? No, not you Maurice. Why would I be telling you to- No, the man from the cat place is here. Weren’t you listening when I told you before- Well, it isn’t my fault! Jesus, get a grip on yourself. I’ll be back at the party in ten minutes, just as soon as that mangy animal is out of the house.”
“Sorry about that,” came a deeper voice, presumably that of the ‘man from the cat place.’ Arthur shuddered to think what that could mean. The bathroom door opened to reveal a short-ish figure with dark skin and what Arthur thought - from what he could see through the basket - dark curls. He was wearing jeans and a white coat. “I’ll just see what we have, then.” He stepped into the room. In his left hand he was holding a box. It was just about Arthur’s size and it had bars on one end. Arthur hissed.
In the doorway, Robert started yowling again.
“It’s going to be all right,” said the man gently, and he knelt on the floor, putting the box off to the side. Suddenly Arthur could see his eyes clearly; they were clear and gray and they reminded Arthur of Eames. The man also had a strange pattern of whiskers on his face. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said.
“Like hell,” Arthur replied, though he knew the man wouldn’t get it. He backed into the corner of the basket.
The man closed the bathroom door behind him, giving a rather harried promise to Mrs. Fischer to be out of her hair shortly. He pulled on a pair of thick gloves and a face mask. “Don’t worry,” he said, muffled now. Everything’s going to be fine.” He moved the box of books off the basket and put it to the side. Then he lifted the basket.
Arthur streaked across the floor, though he wasn’t quite sure where he was going. The window was shut securely. The door into the kitchen was also closed. Arthur tried to summon up his magic, but he had left his die at home in the piano - nothing happened. Although he tried fervently to spring the latch, his escape to the outside remained thoroughly thwarted.
The man was watching his circuit of the small room calmly; his face was obscured, but Arthur was skilled enough at human body language to read the relaxation in his frame. He stopped running and stood frozen, trembling, on the countertop by the sink. His mind was screaming at him to get away, any way he was able, but, huddling there in the stillness, he wanted to trust the man. He thought about Cobb, who had always been decent to him - bringing him food, letting his children play with Arthur… Some humans were nice. He couldn’t explain it, but he thought this man was among them, those kind few…
“That’s it,” soothed the man, and Arthur wasn’t really sure what happened, but he found himself inside the box with the bars and the door was closing and he was being lifted up and away. He cried out at the sensation of vertigo.
“Arthur,” mewed Robert as the man took him in the box out into the kitchen. “Arthur, Arthur.”
“Stop it,” Mrs. Fischer snapped at him, hanging up the phone. She gave the man some money. He thanked her more kindly than she deserved and left the apartment, Arthur in tow.
-aaa-
Yusuf put Arthur on the floor of his van, making sure the carrier was secure and that it wouldn’t move around too much. He hated how terrified the little cat’s meowing sounded, but there wasn’t a lot he could do about it. “It’s all right,” he said again, and closed the car door. He got behind the wheel and pulled out from behind the apartment building. It was another fifteen minutes back to Furry Friends Veterinary Clinic on the edge of the city and then he was taking Arthur out again, carrying him up the front steps and into the building.
“And who have we here?” Mal came out from her office to look at the cat carrier Yusuf was sliding onto the reception desk, setting her clipboard aside. She bent to peer through the door but didn’t move within paw-range. “He’s quite dashing! Look at that tie. A gentleman.”
“I got a call from that harpy Fischer, Robert’s owner,” Yusuf chuckled. “Apparently she’d left her window open and this one invited himself in. He probably smelled something good, poor fellow.”
“Mm. The winter is always so hard around here.” She straightened. “Is he feral? I noticed he is still intact.”
“I’m not sure.” Yusuf stroked his goatee. “Probably. He doesn’t seem to be as aggressive as most we get in, though.” He shrugged. “He’s still pretty wild, and I’m willing to bet scared. I’m going to put him in Room 36. It’s free, right?”
“Yes. We’ve moved out the Jack Russell and scrubbed it down.”
“Great. I’ll let him calm down a bit and then see if I can’t get him a check-up.” He picked Arthur up again and took him down a short hallway before stepping into a small room. It had a tiled floor and was bare of furniture. There was a low, inset shelf on one wall with a folded towel on it for bedding. Yusuf deposited the carrier by the door and reached into his pocket, pulling out a stuffed mouse. He tossed into the corner. “You’re going to be just fine,” he said cheerfully, and opened the carrier door. Arthur stayed within, distrusting.
Yusuf went back into the hallway, closing the door. He checked his watch as he returned to the foyer. “Yikes. It’s getting close to seven. I have to get back and prepare those slides for my seminar,” Yusuf said. He looked up at Mal with puppy eyes. “You don’t mind closing up, do you?”
She hesitated. “It is Philippa’s birthday today,” she hedged. “I was going to go home at eight, but I completely forgot about your class. I suppose I can call Dom.”
“No, no that’s all right.” Yusuf shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat. “I can nip back home and grab my laptop, and then you can-”
“Perhaps we can close early?” Mal suggested. “There are no more appointments today, and no emergency cases here.”
Yusuf smiled. “Good idea. I hate being the only one here after nightfall, anyway. It’s lonely.”
“But you have all of the animals right nearby!” Mal teased. She picked up her clipboard again. “You go do your lesson plan. I will schedule an examination for that feral cat for tomorrow morning and close at eight.”
“Thanks! I’ll see you tomorrow. And say happy birthday to Phil for me.”
“I will!” Mal gave him a little wave as he gathered his things and left for the night.
-aaa-
“Geez, what is the holdup?” Yusuf tried to peer around the car in front of him, but it was useless; he couldn’t see anything but a long line of vehicles. He wondered if there had been an accident. It had started to snow again, and the roads were quickly gaining a coat of fluffy white. He sighed. It usually didn’t take him nearly so long to get home from work. “Come on…” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and glanced out the window.
A few feet ahead there was a side street that Yusuf knew would take him back to his house, albeit in a bit of time, but he had already wasted enough of it. Decision made, he switched on his blinker and turned when he was able. This road was pretty quiet for that time of night. He expected that others would soon be following his example and using it as a detour, though. He shook his head. The city really needed to do something about the congestion.
He was thinking so hard that he almost didn’t see the cat as it stumbled into the road ahead of him. Luckily, he was driving slowly in the icy conditions. “Holy shit!” he cried, and stomped on the brake. He skidded to a halt shy of the small animal, glad again that there was no car behind him. “That was close…” He checked behind him again and then climbed out of the car.
The cat was a dark patch in the silvery powder gathered by the curb, but Yusuf could make out brown fur and the maroon matting of blood. “Oh God,” he muttered, kneeling. The cat turned one gray eye on him and hissed weakly, baring slightly crooked but sharp teeth. “Hey, now…” Yusuf took out his cell phone, holding it up so that he could examine the cat by its light. By his best guess, the cat’s right forepaw was broken, slivers of bone peeking out through his flesh. “That looks bad.”
Yusuf glanced around again and then took off his coat, using it to scoop up the cat as gently as he could. He struggled only weakly, yowling, as Yusuf put him in the car, clearing out a box of papers for a temporary bed. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I don’t know what happened to you, but I’m going to do my best to fix it.” With that goal in mind, Yusuf got back behind the wheel and headed home, driving, perhaps, a little faster than he should.
-aaa-
Part 3
Enjoy! Comments and criticism appreciated!
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Arthur/Eames
Warnings: language
Notes: Takes place in the world of the musical CATS.
Wordcount: 2088
Summary: This is the sequel to A Horrible Muddle and should be read after that one. Arthur and Eames go to visit Robert and get themselves into trouble.
Part 1
-aaa-
“I am so sorry about this…” Robert said again, but Arthur ignored him. He had already assured the other cat that it wasn’t his fault. Right now he was more concerned about how he was going to get out from under his plastic cage and back outside where he could see if Eames was… Where he could see Eames.
“Can you push the box off the top of this thing?” Arthur asked, interrupting Robert’s apologizing. Mrs. Fischer had stacked a box of heavy books on top of the laundry basket while she went into the other room.
“I can try,” Robert said doubtfully, and started looking ashamed again. “I mean, I’ll try right now.” He climbed up next to the box and examined it. “What are you going to do next? She closed the window.”
“I’ll figure something out.”
From the kitchen, Mrs. Fischer’s voice was rising. “Yes, yes, that’s what I said! No, I don’t know how it got in… I suppose through the window. Well, it’s my business if I have the damn window open, isn’t it? Dirty strays shouldn’t just wander in!” She sighed heavily. “Just come pick it up! No, I didn’t! What if it has rabies of something?”
“Hurry!” said Arthur. He started pushing on the basket in the other direction.
“I don’t know, Arthur; it’s really heavy. I can’t tell if it’s going anywhere.” Robert sounded miserable.
“Keep trying…”
“Yes. Yes, you have the address. Come right away. Fifteen minutes? Yes, I suppose that will do. Thank you.” The phone was slammed back into its cradle. “Fucking idiots…” Her footsteps rang off the tile as she moved around in the kitchen, and Arthur and Robert renewed their efforts. “Hey, get down from there!” Mrs. Fischer shouted, marching back into the bathroom. She grabbed Robert around the middle and dropped him in the kitchen, closing the bathroom door. For a few minutes Arthur could hear him crying on the other side, then it was quiet again.
The silence stretched. Arthur didn’t have any way of measuring the passing time. It could have been minutes or hours. He paced back and forth, trying not to think about Eames, trying to comfort himself when he couldn’t stop himself with the fact that Eames was a hardy cat. He had taken falls before. He would be okay. Then he started breathing too fast and had to sit down. He had never considered himself to be a particularly nervous cat, despite Eames’s insistence that he was high-strung. He just preferred to be in control of his situation. Which, at the moment, he most certainly was not. His ears flicked back and he let out a soft, hopeless meow.
He almost jumped out of his skin when there was a loud bang on the door, his tail fluffing impressively. “Robert?” he yowled. “What’s going on?”
“There’s a man here,” came Robert’s soft reply. He sounded much subdued. Arthur hoped nothing had happened to him.
“Would you watch what you’re doing?!” Mrs. Fischer’s shrill yell did nothing to ease the tension coiling down Arthur’s spine. “What? No, not you Maurice. Why would I be telling you to- No, the man from the cat place is here. Weren’t you listening when I told you before- Well, it isn’t my fault! Jesus, get a grip on yourself. I’ll be back at the party in ten minutes, just as soon as that mangy animal is out of the house.”
“Sorry about that,” came a deeper voice, presumably that of the ‘man from the cat place.’ Arthur shuddered to think what that could mean. The bathroom door opened to reveal a short-ish figure with dark skin and what Arthur thought - from what he could see through the basket - dark curls. He was wearing jeans and a white coat. “I’ll just see what we have, then.” He stepped into the room. In his left hand he was holding a box. It was just about Arthur’s size and it had bars on one end. Arthur hissed.
In the doorway, Robert started yowling again.
“It’s going to be all right,” said the man gently, and he knelt on the floor, putting the box off to the side. Suddenly Arthur could see his eyes clearly; they were clear and gray and they reminded Arthur of Eames. The man also had a strange pattern of whiskers on his face. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said.
“Like hell,” Arthur replied, though he knew the man wouldn’t get it. He backed into the corner of the basket.
The man closed the bathroom door behind him, giving a rather harried promise to Mrs. Fischer to be out of her hair shortly. He pulled on a pair of thick gloves and a face mask. “Don’t worry,” he said, muffled now. Everything’s going to be fine.” He moved the box of books off the basket and put it to the side. Then he lifted the basket.
Arthur streaked across the floor, though he wasn’t quite sure where he was going. The window was shut securely. The door into the kitchen was also closed. Arthur tried to summon up his magic, but he had left his die at home in the piano - nothing happened. Although he tried fervently to spring the latch, his escape to the outside remained thoroughly thwarted.
The man was watching his circuit of the small room calmly; his face was obscured, but Arthur was skilled enough at human body language to read the relaxation in his frame. He stopped running and stood frozen, trembling, on the countertop by the sink. His mind was screaming at him to get away, any way he was able, but, huddling there in the stillness, he wanted to trust the man. He thought about Cobb, who had always been decent to him - bringing him food, letting his children play with Arthur… Some humans were nice. He couldn’t explain it, but he thought this man was among them, those kind few…
“That’s it,” soothed the man, and Arthur wasn’t really sure what happened, but he found himself inside the box with the bars and the door was closing and he was being lifted up and away. He cried out at the sensation of vertigo.
“Arthur,” mewed Robert as the man took him in the box out into the kitchen. “Arthur, Arthur.”
“Stop it,” Mrs. Fischer snapped at him, hanging up the phone. She gave the man some money. He thanked her more kindly than she deserved and left the apartment, Arthur in tow.
-aaa-
Yusuf put Arthur on the floor of his van, making sure the carrier was secure and that it wouldn’t move around too much. He hated how terrified the little cat’s meowing sounded, but there wasn’t a lot he could do about it. “It’s all right,” he said again, and closed the car door. He got behind the wheel and pulled out from behind the apartment building. It was another fifteen minutes back to Furry Friends Veterinary Clinic on the edge of the city and then he was taking Arthur out again, carrying him up the front steps and into the building.
“And who have we here?” Mal came out from her office to look at the cat carrier Yusuf was sliding onto the reception desk, setting her clipboard aside. She bent to peer through the door but didn’t move within paw-range. “He’s quite dashing! Look at that tie. A gentleman.”
“I got a call from that harpy Fischer, Robert’s owner,” Yusuf chuckled. “Apparently she’d left her window open and this one invited himself in. He probably smelled something good, poor fellow.”
“Mm. The winter is always so hard around here.” She straightened. “Is he feral? I noticed he is still intact.”
“I’m not sure.” Yusuf stroked his goatee. “Probably. He doesn’t seem to be as aggressive as most we get in, though.” He shrugged. “He’s still pretty wild, and I’m willing to bet scared. I’m going to put him in Room 36. It’s free, right?”
“Yes. We’ve moved out the Jack Russell and scrubbed it down.”
“Great. I’ll let him calm down a bit and then see if I can’t get him a check-up.” He picked Arthur up again and took him down a short hallway before stepping into a small room. It had a tiled floor and was bare of furniture. There was a low, inset shelf on one wall with a folded towel on it for bedding. Yusuf deposited the carrier by the door and reached into his pocket, pulling out a stuffed mouse. He tossed into the corner. “You’re going to be just fine,” he said cheerfully, and opened the carrier door. Arthur stayed within, distrusting.
Yusuf went back into the hallway, closing the door. He checked his watch as he returned to the foyer. “Yikes. It’s getting close to seven. I have to get back and prepare those slides for my seminar,” Yusuf said. He looked up at Mal with puppy eyes. “You don’t mind closing up, do you?”
She hesitated. “It is Philippa’s birthday today,” she hedged. “I was going to go home at eight, but I completely forgot about your class. I suppose I can call Dom.”
“No, no that’s all right.” Yusuf shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat. “I can nip back home and grab my laptop, and then you can-”
“Perhaps we can close early?” Mal suggested. “There are no more appointments today, and no emergency cases here.”
Yusuf smiled. “Good idea. I hate being the only one here after nightfall, anyway. It’s lonely.”
“But you have all of the animals right nearby!” Mal teased. She picked up her clipboard again. “You go do your lesson plan. I will schedule an examination for that feral cat for tomorrow morning and close at eight.”
“Thanks! I’ll see you tomorrow. And say happy birthday to Phil for me.”
“I will!” Mal gave him a little wave as he gathered his things and left for the night.
-aaa-
“Geez, what is the holdup?” Yusuf tried to peer around the car in front of him, but it was useless; he couldn’t see anything but a long line of vehicles. He wondered if there had been an accident. It had started to snow again, and the roads were quickly gaining a coat of fluffy white. He sighed. It usually didn’t take him nearly so long to get home from work. “Come on…” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and glanced out the window.
A few feet ahead there was a side street that Yusuf knew would take him back to his house, albeit in a bit of time, but he had already wasted enough of it. Decision made, he switched on his blinker and turned when he was able. This road was pretty quiet for that time of night. He expected that others would soon be following his example and using it as a detour, though. He shook his head. The city really needed to do something about the congestion.
He was thinking so hard that he almost didn’t see the cat as it stumbled into the road ahead of him. Luckily, he was driving slowly in the icy conditions. “Holy shit!” he cried, and stomped on the brake. He skidded to a halt shy of the small animal, glad again that there was no car behind him. “That was close…” He checked behind him again and then climbed out of the car.
The cat was a dark patch in the silvery powder gathered by the curb, but Yusuf could make out brown fur and the maroon matting of blood. “Oh God,” he muttered, kneeling. The cat turned one gray eye on him and hissed weakly, baring slightly crooked but sharp teeth. “Hey, now…” Yusuf took out his cell phone, holding it up so that he could examine the cat by its light. By his best guess, the cat’s right forepaw was broken, slivers of bone peeking out through his flesh. “That looks bad.”
Yusuf glanced around again and then took off his coat, using it to scoop up the cat as gently as he could. He struggled only weakly, yowling, as Yusuf put him in the car, clearing out a box of papers for a temporary bed. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I don’t know what happened to you, but I’m going to do my best to fix it.” With that goal in mind, Yusuf got back behind the wheel and headed home, driving, perhaps, a little faster than he should.
-aaa-
Part 3
Enjoy! Comments and criticism appreciated!