The Way I Feel When You Call My name (1/?)
May. 3rd, 2013 04:10 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lapacifidoraTitle: The Way I Feel When You Call My Name (1/?)
Author: lapacifidora
Spoilers: Through 4.10, “Intro to Knots”
Rating/ Warnings: PG-14, for themes and language. Trigger warnings for slightly rapey characterization, discussion of mental illness and institutionalization.
Word Count: 3,609
Disclaimers: Not mine. The title is from Sleater Kinney’s “Oh.”
Author’s note: For Caro, who asked for it. And for Kerry and Becca, who wanted it, or anything from me, for months now.
Also, I actually started this April 24, following “Intro to Knots,” but then it sat on my hard drive for a week or so before I made any real progress. There will be differences and unintended similarities from both the promo for 4.13 and the actual episode. Additionally, the attitudes of the Greendale Insane Asylum staff are not my own, but are extrapolations and exaggerations of the attitudes expressed in “Curriculum Unavailable.”
***
Near the end of our story – not the true end or the final end or any nonsense like that; simply the end of the current part before the next bit begins – Jeff Winger is in a derelict gas station, on the edge of the county, in front of a grime-covered window and backlit by a police flood light.
He is staring into his own eyes in disbelief.
And, in less than a minute, he will be shot.
***
“How’s our patient today, Teri?”
“The same, Dr. Lambert.” The nurse heaved a heavy sigh and made a note on a clipboard she then returned to a bin bolted to the cinder-block wall. She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear and picked at a loose thread on the hem of her scrubs. “She sits in her room and writes the same words over and over, page after page, never any change.” She glanced at Greendale Insane Asylum’s head of the criminal psychology, tilting her head back to absently study the short red hairs at the nape of his thick neck. “There are days I honestly don’t think she even knows where she is, much less why.”
“I understand treating the mentally unbalanced can be disheartening, Teri, but your sympathy for even a madwoman like this one is a credit to your character.” Garrett Lambert brushed a hand over his bowtie and down the front of his shirt before patting the lanky brunette on the shoulder, his hand lingering a moment longer than perhaps was entirely proper. He sidled a step closer and let his hand drop to the small of the nurse’s back as they continued to stare through the reinforced glass of the small window in the room door. “And sympathy is a key to success in our field.” He shifted his scrutiny from the patient to Teri’s profile. “If you like, I can be certain to emphasize your natural capacity for it in your yearly review.” The corners of his mouth drew upward in a self-satisfied smile as Teri started and shot a surprised look at the doctor.
“You would do that?”
“Of course.” Garrett used the hand at the small of her back to draw her a little closer. “I know you’ve been angling for a promotion: You’ve certainly been here long enough to qualify for addition to the nightly head nurse rotation.” His head inched forward on his stubby neck, his body drifting along behind, until he and Teri were nearly nose to nose and his paunch was pressed against her crossed arms. “I know what it’s like to be overlooked for advancement; I sympathize with your situation. And I think, as two deeply sympathetic individuals, we can come to some sort of mutually beneficial arrangement.” His lips parted, revealing his almost unnaturally square, white teeth in a facsimile of a friendly smile. “Don’t you think?”
“I- I think we can work something out, Doctor.” Teri struggled to keep her lips from trembling as she forced herself to return Garrett’s smile. She shrugged gracefully, stepping to the side and away from the shorter man. “But maybe we could talk about it some other time?” She closed her eyes for a moment, summoning every ounce of allure she’d ever possessed and hoping it would be enough to put him off for the time being. She opened her eyes slowly, deciding to hold off on eyelash fluttering unless absolutely necessary, and drew her bottom lip between her teeth before releasing it slowly. “Perhaps I could come to your office and we could-” She paused for a long beat and raised one hand to twirl a curl around her finger. “- talk?” Teri congratulated herself as a flush spread up Garrett’s neck and across his cheeks as he nodded eagerly. She drew in a sharp breath as he stepped forward abruptly and retreated a step in response. “But-” She forced a laugh from her throat and shook her head, letting go of her hair and wagging her finger in his face. “But not now, Doctor. I really need to get on with my rounds or Nurse Slaterski will read me the rio-” Teri broke off mid-word with a yelp as a sheet of paper was slammed against the window in the patient’s door and scrabbling, like the nails of an animals against a slick surface, sounded from the other side of the door where a handle would have been, had there been one on both sides.
Garrett jumped back with a high-pitched scream and slumped against the wall opposite the door.
Teri spared the doctor a brief, disbelieving look before a quiet keening and repeated thumps against the door drew her attention back to the patient’s room. She stepped closer to the door, reading the words on the paper pressed against the window, and swallowed thickly. She turned and walked a few yards down the hall to a red phone mounted on the wall, a bright spot against the sterile but dingy white concrete blocks. She picked up the handset and dialed the nurses’ station in the other wing, requesting backup.
That call made, Teri glanced back down the hall, where Garrett still stood slumped against the wall: He’d drawn an inhaler from a pocket and was administering a dose while he used a few files he’d been carrying to fan his face. She glanced back at the phone and pressed the switchhook for several seconds, waiting for a dial tone, then pressed a few buttons for an outside line. She dialed a number from memory, and tapped her foot as the phone at the other end rang. She looked down the other end of the hallway, willing the call to go through before the other nurses arrived. She blew out her breath through pursed lips, and spoke breathlessly when the phone at the other end was answered.
“She’s lucid. She asked for him. No. No, I wasn’t the only one there. Dr. Lambert saw it as well. I know, but we’re simply going to have to bring forward the schedule. I know. Yes, fine, I’ll meet you at the usual place tomorrow morning. Yes, same time. Fine. Goodbye.” Teri replaced the handset, and turned away, a part of her brain focused on gauging how far away the other nurses were by the sound of their orthopedic shoes squeaking against the linoleum floors. She returned to Garrett, looking him from head to toe as she approached: He appeared shaken and still pale, but he was no longer propped against the wall. Instead, he stood in the middle of the hall, a single sheet of paper clasped in one fist. As she neared, Garrett turned to look at her, dropping his gaze from Teri’s eyes to the paper before returning his attention to her. She stopped a few feet from him and licked her lips, prepared to ask him where the paper had come from when he turned it for her to see. She sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes widening as they scanned the words written in black crayon and the crassly rendered picture of a stick figure in a pool of blood, its dismembered stick arm lying outside the edges of the pool. She took the paper from Garrett and ran a finger over the waxy figures.
Teri slowly turned her head to look over at the door, seeing the pale skin, the dark shadows beneath pale eyes and the riotous mass of curls without registering more details, then glanced back at the paper. She nodded and crossed to the door, meeting the patient’s eyes and nodding again. Behind her, she heard the arrival of the other nurses and the clink of the glass vials of sedative as they consulted with Garrett regarding dosage, but their voices were a dull murmur as the patient smiled tremulously and nodded in response.
“You need to step back from the door. We’ll take care of you.” Teri waited until the patient nodded in response and backed away from the door, settling on the edge of the bare cot to one side of the room. She backed away herself, letting the other nurses handle subduing the patient. She glanced down at the paper in hand once more, mouthing the words silently to herself: BRING ME WINGER. She looked up at the open door, listening as the nurses spoke quietly while administering a sedative, and smiled grimly. “Yes, Annie, we’ll take care of you. Don’t you worry.”
***
Jeff sat at his breakfast bar, watching Jeffrey the Kitten approach a shallow plate of milk warily. He nudged the plate closer to the kitten with a fingertip, scratching at his jaw with his other hand before propping his chin on his fist. The kitten took a few more steps, reaching the edge of the plate and sniffing suspiciously before stretching out a tiny pink tongue to lap delicately at the liquid. It sat back on its haunches as it considered the plate silently for a moment, licking its chops for any stray drops of milk, and then looked at Jeff, its head tilting in silent question. Jeff snorted quietly and lifted his coffee mug to his lips, taking a long sip, before tipping it in the kitten’s direction in a toast.
“Sorry, I don’t take cream in my coffee, little guy: That’s all yours.” His mouth twisted in a smirk as the kitten tilted its head to the other side before returning its attention to the plate and beginning to lap with more vigor, scooting forward till it bumped the plate hard enough to move it an inch or so. Jeff reached out to carefully move the plate back to the center of the counter, then gently tipped the plate to one side so the milk pooled nearer the kitten. “Hungry, huh? Don’t suppose you want some leftover prosciutto?” He frowned slightly as he watched the kitten. “And now I’m talking to a cat.” His brow furrowed as his frown deepened. “I am becoming Britta.” A knock at the door distracted him, and Jeff contemplated leaving the kitten to finish its milk before he decided he didn’t want to deal with broken plates this early in the morning and gently scooped it up from the countertop. Jeffrey meowed plaintively, kneading Jeff’s bare forearm with tiny, needlelike claws. Jeff sucked in a breath through his teeth and jostled the kitten slightly. “You can finish it in a minute! I don’t trust you not to break my plates. Not yet, at least.”
He reached the door and looked through the peephole, unlocking the deadbolt and opening the door with a long-suffering sigh.
“Good morning!” Annie breezed past him, purse slung over one shoulder and shopping totes folded and tucked beneath her other arm. “Did I interrupt something?”
“What? No.” Jeff closed the door and rolled his neck back on his shoulders, then let it tip forward before raising his head to meet her gaze. He shrugged in response to her questioning frown. “Why’d you think you interrupted something?”
“I thought I heard you talking before I knocked.” She set the shopping totes down on an end table and turned to hang up her purse and coat. “I thought maybe you were on the phone or something.”
“Nope.” Jeff crossed back to the breakfast bar, setting the kitten back on the counter after painstakingly removing its claws from his t-shirt. He took a drink of coffee, contemplating whether to tell her the truth or not, and finally shrugged. “I was talking to the cat.”
“You- you were-” Annie stopped, a single shopping tote in her hands as she opened it, and she blinked at him in shock. “You, Jeff Winger, were talking to a kitten.”
“Yes.”
“A baby cat.”
“Yes.” Jeff rounded the bar and refilled his mug before pulling another from a cabinet. “Apparently, I’m Britta now.” He turned to the refrigerator and pulled out a pint of whole milk and a half-pint of heavy cream. He opened the milk and refilled the plate, which earned him a swipe of the kitten’s sandpaper tongue on the back of his hand. He shook his head and looked back at Annie. “Good morning, by the way. Coffee?”
“Please, if it’s made.” Annie set the shopping tote down on Jeff’s couch and crossed to the counter, hopping up to sit on a stool. She watched as he filled the second mug with coffee and set it in front of her, along with the half-pint of cream. She smiled her thanks and twisted the cap off the cream, pouring a little into the mug. “Spoon? Thanks.” She took the utensil from Jeff and stirred her coffee before handing it back to him so he could rinse it and set it in the dish rack. She caught a drip of cream rolling down the side of the carton with a finger and licked it off before she screwed the cap back on and pushed it back across the counter, then took a sip. She licked her lips and inhaled the steam coming from the top of the mug. “You make the best coffee.”
“Good to know my years of legal expertise and my time served at Greendale means I know how to properly use a coffee maker.” Jeff watched the kitten finish its second helping of milk and lick its chops again before it began grooming itself.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” Annie smiled at him over her coffee mug and turned her attention to the kitten as well. “You know, you really shouldn’t let Jeffrey get used to being on the counter.”
“First, please don’t call him that-”
“That’s his name!”
“That’s what the Dean was calling him. If I keep him-”
“You’re not going to keep him?”
“- I’m going to change his name.” Jeff frowned at Annie, whose voice had gone up noticeably with her question. He leaned across the counter and lowered his voice, glancing at the kitten surreptitiously. “It’s really confusing for your pet to have the same name as you.”
“Not if you were named after the pet.”
“And if I were Henry Jones Jr., I’d be inclined to agree with you. But this little guy was named after me, which is disturbing for all sorts of reasons before I even get to the part where it’s confusing.”
“Well, I think Jeffrey suits him.” Annie sipped her coffee and reached out to let the kitten smell her fingers before scratching behind its ears when it butted its head against her hand. “He’s clearly an attention whore-”
“Hey!”
“- which is normal in cats.” She lifted an eyebrow in Jeff’s direction and grinned, before looking back at the kitten, which had walked to the other side of the plate, and sat down between the two humans . “But he’s also fastidious in his grooming, and he’s soft and pretty.” She glanced up at Jeff, who was watching her closely with an indecipherable expression. She felt her cheeks flushed and quickly sipped her coffee, coughing when the hot liquid took her by surprise. She waved away Jeff’s concern and struck her chest with a closed fist. “No, I’m fine.” She managed a smile, blinking against her watery eyes. “But he’s also interested in being the center of attention.” She looked down at the kitten, which was looking between the two of them with the equivalent of a kitten frown. “Still, you shouldn’t let him get too used to being on the counter. He’ll be impossible once he’s grown.” She finished her coffee and set the mug down, standing and stepping away from the bar, hoping the added space would make breathing easier. She crossed to the couch and picked up the shopping tote. The slap of bare feet against the floor alerted her to Jeff’s movement, and she spun, perching on the back of the couch.
Jeff stood before her, coffee cup in one hand, kitten in the other, and clad in a faded t-shirt and boxers with tiny gavels on them, if she wasn’t mistaken. His scruff was more pronounced but slightly uneven, leading her to think he did make a conscious effort to keep his day-to-day facial hair at a particular length. And his hair was flattened on one side, evidence that Jeff Winger was apparently a side sleeper. (Not that she had any vested interest in his specific grooming or sleeping habits.) Annie drew a deep breath and bit the inside of her cheek, wondering how annoyed he would be if she questioned his lawyerly boxers. (And how unfair was it that he was wearing boxers and not briefs? Puns like that didn’t come along every day!) Annie flushed a little but was about to push ahead with her subject-changing teasing when Jeff spoke.
“What brings you here so early, anyways?” He glanced from her face to the shopping tote clutched in her hands. “Planning to rob me blind?”
“What?” Annie blinked and shook her head. “No! Of course not.” She shrugged. “I was so beat last night I didn’t even think to pack up the stuff I brought with me.” She held up the tote and shook it slightly. “So I thought I’d come over this morning and de-girl-ify your apartment.”
“Huh.” Jeff stared at her for a moment, and crossed the few feet between them to stand directly in from of Annie. He looked down at her as he took a sip of coffee, then held out Jeffrey. He his his smirk behind his mug as Annie looked from his face to the kitten and back, but he simply lifted the kitten toward her until she took it. With his now free hand, Jeff took the tote from her hands, then placed it and its twin on the love seat. He set his coffee mug down, and put both hands on her shoulders to guide her around the end of the couch. He pressed down lightly on her shoulders and she sat, the kitten still cradled against her chest as she looked up at him. He smiled and sat down next to her, reaching for his coffee and settled back against the couch.
“What?” Annie turned in her seat to face him, tucking one leg beneath her and smoothing her dark, calf-length knit skirt with one hand as she adjusted her hold on the kitten.
“Well, you said ‘live with them for a day.’” Jeff scratched at his scalp, belatedly realizing how lopsided his hair was and trying to smooth it a little. He gestured with his coffee cup toward the green throw pillows and the window dressing. “It hasn’t quite been a day.”
“I see.” Annie frowned slightly: That wasn’t quite what she’d said, but she’d let it go for the moment.
“Besides, I feel like it’s missing something.” Jeff met her eyes, then looked pointedly at the side table where the potted plant had sat temporarily. “It still feels a little like corporate housing to me.”
“I guess you have a point.” Annie smiled slightly and relaxed, settling into the couch and letting the kitten down to curl up in her lap. “We should do something about that.”
“I think the home and garden place should be open by now.” Jeff finished his coffee and stood, returning his empty mug to the kitchen. He walked back to the couch and cocked his head. “Think they’d have anything to make this place feel less temporary?”
“Probably.” Annie looked up from the sleeping kitten in her lap and smiled. “But what about Jeffrey?”
“Eh.” Jeff shrugged. “I’ll stick him in the pocket of my jacket. As long as he’s sleeping, who’ll know the difference?”
“And when your pocket starts meowing?”
“I’ll tell them it’s my ringtone.” Jeff bent his right arm behind his head and scratched between his shoulders, unaware of the sliver of skin revealed when his shirt shifted. “Let me get dressed, and we’ll figure out what to do with the kid.” He turned away to cross to his room, already wondering which shirts were still clean.
“What?” Annie’s strangled response gave him pause, but Jeff didn’t turn back, only paused momentarily.
“The kitten. I said we’ll figure out what to do with the kitten.”
“Oh.” Annie watched him enter his bedroom and close the door behind him. She raised her voice slightly. “I misheard. Sorry.”
Twenty minutes later, Jeff emerged from his room, dressed and ready to go. He approached the couch, where Annie still sat with Jeffrey curled in her lap. She was staring at the wall blankly, and Jeff leaned down, raising a hand to her shoulder.
“Ready to go?” He spoke softly, but Annie startled and flinched away from his touch. He crouched between the couch and the coffee table, looking up into her face. “Hey. You OK?”
“What?” Annie shook, more a shiver than a return to the present. “No. Yeah, no-” She paused, blinking quickly and smiled. “No, I’m fine. It was like-” She licked her lips and looked bemused. “Have you ever heard the saying ‘like someone walking over your grave?’” She shrugged and handed him the kitten so she could stand and shake out her skirt. “It was weird, but it’s nothing.”
“Are you sure?” Jeff asked, only half paying attention as he tried to maneuver the sleeping kitten into his pocket. He glanced back up at her as she picked up her purse and he patted down his pockets for wallet, cell phone and keys. She smiled and shrugged on her coat, then slipped her purse over her shoulder.
“Yeah. It’s nothing. Don’t you worry.”
***
Author: lapacifidora
Spoilers: Through 4.10, “Intro to Knots”
Rating/ Warnings: PG-14, for themes and language. Trigger warnings for slightly rapey characterization, discussion of mental illness and institutionalization.
Word Count: 3,609
Disclaimers: Not mine. The title is from Sleater Kinney’s “Oh.”
Author’s note: For Caro, who asked for it. And for Kerry and Becca, who wanted it, or anything from me, for months now.
Also, I actually started this April 24, following “Intro to Knots,” but then it sat on my hard drive for a week or so before I made any real progress. There will be differences and unintended similarities from both the promo for 4.13 and the actual episode. Additionally, the attitudes of the Greendale Insane Asylum staff are not my own, but are extrapolations and exaggerations of the attitudes expressed in “Curriculum Unavailable.”
***
Near the end of our story – not the true end or the final end or any nonsense like that; simply the end of the current part before the next bit begins – Jeff Winger is in a derelict gas station, on the edge of the county, in front of a grime-covered window and backlit by a police flood light.
He is staring into his own eyes in disbelief.
And, in less than a minute, he will be shot.
***
“How’s our patient today, Teri?”
“The same, Dr. Lambert.” The nurse heaved a heavy sigh and made a note on a clipboard she then returned to a bin bolted to the cinder-block wall. She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear and picked at a loose thread on the hem of her scrubs. “She sits in her room and writes the same words over and over, page after page, never any change.” She glanced at Greendale Insane Asylum’s head of the criminal psychology, tilting her head back to absently study the short red hairs at the nape of his thick neck. “There are days I honestly don’t think she even knows where she is, much less why.”
“I understand treating the mentally unbalanced can be disheartening, Teri, but your sympathy for even a madwoman like this one is a credit to your character.” Garrett Lambert brushed a hand over his bowtie and down the front of his shirt before patting the lanky brunette on the shoulder, his hand lingering a moment longer than perhaps was entirely proper. He sidled a step closer and let his hand drop to the small of the nurse’s back as they continued to stare through the reinforced glass of the small window in the room door. “And sympathy is a key to success in our field.” He shifted his scrutiny from the patient to Teri’s profile. “If you like, I can be certain to emphasize your natural capacity for it in your yearly review.” The corners of his mouth drew upward in a self-satisfied smile as Teri started and shot a surprised look at the doctor.
“You would do that?”
“Of course.” Garrett used the hand at the small of her back to draw her a little closer. “I know you’ve been angling for a promotion: You’ve certainly been here long enough to qualify for addition to the nightly head nurse rotation.” His head inched forward on his stubby neck, his body drifting along behind, until he and Teri were nearly nose to nose and his paunch was pressed against her crossed arms. “I know what it’s like to be overlooked for advancement; I sympathize with your situation. And I think, as two deeply sympathetic individuals, we can come to some sort of mutually beneficial arrangement.” His lips parted, revealing his almost unnaturally square, white teeth in a facsimile of a friendly smile. “Don’t you think?”
“I- I think we can work something out, Doctor.” Teri struggled to keep her lips from trembling as she forced herself to return Garrett’s smile. She shrugged gracefully, stepping to the side and away from the shorter man. “But maybe we could talk about it some other time?” She closed her eyes for a moment, summoning every ounce of allure she’d ever possessed and hoping it would be enough to put him off for the time being. She opened her eyes slowly, deciding to hold off on eyelash fluttering unless absolutely necessary, and drew her bottom lip between her teeth before releasing it slowly. “Perhaps I could come to your office and we could-” She paused for a long beat and raised one hand to twirl a curl around her finger. “- talk?” Teri congratulated herself as a flush spread up Garrett’s neck and across his cheeks as he nodded eagerly. She drew in a sharp breath as he stepped forward abruptly and retreated a step in response. “But-” She forced a laugh from her throat and shook her head, letting go of her hair and wagging her finger in his face. “But not now, Doctor. I really need to get on with my rounds or Nurse Slaterski will read me the rio-” Teri broke off mid-word with a yelp as a sheet of paper was slammed against the window in the patient’s door and scrabbling, like the nails of an animals against a slick surface, sounded from the other side of the door where a handle would have been, had there been one on both sides.
Garrett jumped back with a high-pitched scream and slumped against the wall opposite the door.
Teri spared the doctor a brief, disbelieving look before a quiet keening and repeated thumps against the door drew her attention back to the patient’s room. She stepped closer to the door, reading the words on the paper pressed against the window, and swallowed thickly. She turned and walked a few yards down the hall to a red phone mounted on the wall, a bright spot against the sterile but dingy white concrete blocks. She picked up the handset and dialed the nurses’ station in the other wing, requesting backup.
That call made, Teri glanced back down the hall, where Garrett still stood slumped against the wall: He’d drawn an inhaler from a pocket and was administering a dose while he used a few files he’d been carrying to fan his face. She glanced back at the phone and pressed the switchhook for several seconds, waiting for a dial tone, then pressed a few buttons for an outside line. She dialed a number from memory, and tapped her foot as the phone at the other end rang. She looked down the other end of the hallway, willing the call to go through before the other nurses arrived. She blew out her breath through pursed lips, and spoke breathlessly when the phone at the other end was answered.
“She’s lucid. She asked for him. No. No, I wasn’t the only one there. Dr. Lambert saw it as well. I know, but we’re simply going to have to bring forward the schedule. I know. Yes, fine, I’ll meet you at the usual place tomorrow morning. Yes, same time. Fine. Goodbye.” Teri replaced the handset, and turned away, a part of her brain focused on gauging how far away the other nurses were by the sound of their orthopedic shoes squeaking against the linoleum floors. She returned to Garrett, looking him from head to toe as she approached: He appeared shaken and still pale, but he was no longer propped against the wall. Instead, he stood in the middle of the hall, a single sheet of paper clasped in one fist. As she neared, Garrett turned to look at her, dropping his gaze from Teri’s eyes to the paper before returning his attention to her. She stopped a few feet from him and licked her lips, prepared to ask him where the paper had come from when he turned it for her to see. She sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes widening as they scanned the words written in black crayon and the crassly rendered picture of a stick figure in a pool of blood, its dismembered stick arm lying outside the edges of the pool. She took the paper from Garrett and ran a finger over the waxy figures.
Teri slowly turned her head to look over at the door, seeing the pale skin, the dark shadows beneath pale eyes and the riotous mass of curls without registering more details, then glanced back at the paper. She nodded and crossed to the door, meeting the patient’s eyes and nodding again. Behind her, she heard the arrival of the other nurses and the clink of the glass vials of sedative as they consulted with Garrett regarding dosage, but their voices were a dull murmur as the patient smiled tremulously and nodded in response.
“You need to step back from the door. We’ll take care of you.” Teri waited until the patient nodded in response and backed away from the door, settling on the edge of the bare cot to one side of the room. She backed away herself, letting the other nurses handle subduing the patient. She glanced down at the paper in hand once more, mouthing the words silently to herself: BRING ME WINGER. She looked up at the open door, listening as the nurses spoke quietly while administering a sedative, and smiled grimly. “Yes, Annie, we’ll take care of you. Don’t you worry.”
***
Jeff sat at his breakfast bar, watching Jeffrey the Kitten approach a shallow plate of milk warily. He nudged the plate closer to the kitten with a fingertip, scratching at his jaw with his other hand before propping his chin on his fist. The kitten took a few more steps, reaching the edge of the plate and sniffing suspiciously before stretching out a tiny pink tongue to lap delicately at the liquid. It sat back on its haunches as it considered the plate silently for a moment, licking its chops for any stray drops of milk, and then looked at Jeff, its head tilting in silent question. Jeff snorted quietly and lifted his coffee mug to his lips, taking a long sip, before tipping it in the kitten’s direction in a toast.
“Sorry, I don’t take cream in my coffee, little guy: That’s all yours.” His mouth twisted in a smirk as the kitten tilted its head to the other side before returning its attention to the plate and beginning to lap with more vigor, scooting forward till it bumped the plate hard enough to move it an inch or so. Jeff reached out to carefully move the plate back to the center of the counter, then gently tipped the plate to one side so the milk pooled nearer the kitten. “Hungry, huh? Don’t suppose you want some leftover prosciutto?” He frowned slightly as he watched the kitten. “And now I’m talking to a cat.” His brow furrowed as his frown deepened. “I am becoming Britta.” A knock at the door distracted him, and Jeff contemplated leaving the kitten to finish its milk before he decided he didn’t want to deal with broken plates this early in the morning and gently scooped it up from the countertop. Jeffrey meowed plaintively, kneading Jeff’s bare forearm with tiny, needlelike claws. Jeff sucked in a breath through his teeth and jostled the kitten slightly. “You can finish it in a minute! I don’t trust you not to break my plates. Not yet, at least.”
He reached the door and looked through the peephole, unlocking the deadbolt and opening the door with a long-suffering sigh.
“Good morning!” Annie breezed past him, purse slung over one shoulder and shopping totes folded and tucked beneath her other arm. “Did I interrupt something?”
“What? No.” Jeff closed the door and rolled his neck back on his shoulders, then let it tip forward before raising his head to meet her gaze. He shrugged in response to her questioning frown. “Why’d you think you interrupted something?”
“I thought I heard you talking before I knocked.” She set the shopping totes down on an end table and turned to hang up her purse and coat. “I thought maybe you were on the phone or something.”
“Nope.” Jeff crossed back to the breakfast bar, setting the kitten back on the counter after painstakingly removing its claws from his t-shirt. He took a drink of coffee, contemplating whether to tell her the truth or not, and finally shrugged. “I was talking to the cat.”
“You- you were-” Annie stopped, a single shopping tote in her hands as she opened it, and she blinked at him in shock. “You, Jeff Winger, were talking to a kitten.”
“Yes.”
“A baby cat.”
“Yes.” Jeff rounded the bar and refilled his mug before pulling another from a cabinet. “Apparently, I’m Britta now.” He turned to the refrigerator and pulled out a pint of whole milk and a half-pint of heavy cream. He opened the milk and refilled the plate, which earned him a swipe of the kitten’s sandpaper tongue on the back of his hand. He shook his head and looked back at Annie. “Good morning, by the way. Coffee?”
“Please, if it’s made.” Annie set the shopping tote down on Jeff’s couch and crossed to the counter, hopping up to sit on a stool. She watched as he filled the second mug with coffee and set it in front of her, along with the half-pint of cream. She smiled her thanks and twisted the cap off the cream, pouring a little into the mug. “Spoon? Thanks.” She took the utensil from Jeff and stirred her coffee before handing it back to him so he could rinse it and set it in the dish rack. She caught a drip of cream rolling down the side of the carton with a finger and licked it off before she screwed the cap back on and pushed it back across the counter, then took a sip. She licked her lips and inhaled the steam coming from the top of the mug. “You make the best coffee.”
“Good to know my years of legal expertise and my time served at Greendale means I know how to properly use a coffee maker.” Jeff watched the kitten finish its second helping of milk and lick its chops again before it began grooming itself.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” Annie smiled at him over her coffee mug and turned her attention to the kitten as well. “You know, you really shouldn’t let Jeffrey get used to being on the counter.”
“First, please don’t call him that-”
“That’s his name!”
“That’s what the Dean was calling him. If I keep him-”
“You’re not going to keep him?”
“- I’m going to change his name.” Jeff frowned at Annie, whose voice had gone up noticeably with her question. He leaned across the counter and lowered his voice, glancing at the kitten surreptitiously. “It’s really confusing for your pet to have the same name as you.”
“Not if you were named after the pet.”
“And if I were Henry Jones Jr., I’d be inclined to agree with you. But this little guy was named after me, which is disturbing for all sorts of reasons before I even get to the part where it’s confusing.”
“Well, I think Jeffrey suits him.” Annie sipped her coffee and reached out to let the kitten smell her fingers before scratching behind its ears when it butted its head against her hand. “He’s clearly an attention whore-”
“Hey!”
“- which is normal in cats.” She lifted an eyebrow in Jeff’s direction and grinned, before looking back at the kitten, which had walked to the other side of the plate, and sat down between the two humans . “But he’s also fastidious in his grooming, and he’s soft and pretty.” She glanced up at Jeff, who was watching her closely with an indecipherable expression. She felt her cheeks flushed and quickly sipped her coffee, coughing when the hot liquid took her by surprise. She waved away Jeff’s concern and struck her chest with a closed fist. “No, I’m fine.” She managed a smile, blinking against her watery eyes. “But he’s also interested in being the center of attention.” She looked down at the kitten, which was looking between the two of them with the equivalent of a kitten frown. “Still, you shouldn’t let him get too used to being on the counter. He’ll be impossible once he’s grown.” She finished her coffee and set the mug down, standing and stepping away from the bar, hoping the added space would make breathing easier. She crossed to the couch and picked up the shopping tote. The slap of bare feet against the floor alerted her to Jeff’s movement, and she spun, perching on the back of the couch.
Jeff stood before her, coffee cup in one hand, kitten in the other, and clad in a faded t-shirt and boxers with tiny gavels on them, if she wasn’t mistaken. His scruff was more pronounced but slightly uneven, leading her to think he did make a conscious effort to keep his day-to-day facial hair at a particular length. And his hair was flattened on one side, evidence that Jeff Winger was apparently a side sleeper. (Not that she had any vested interest in his specific grooming or sleeping habits.) Annie drew a deep breath and bit the inside of her cheek, wondering how annoyed he would be if she questioned his lawyerly boxers. (And how unfair was it that he was wearing boxers and not briefs? Puns like that didn’t come along every day!) Annie flushed a little but was about to push ahead with her subject-changing teasing when Jeff spoke.
“What brings you here so early, anyways?” He glanced from her face to the shopping tote clutched in her hands. “Planning to rob me blind?”
“What?” Annie blinked and shook her head. “No! Of course not.” She shrugged. “I was so beat last night I didn’t even think to pack up the stuff I brought with me.” She held up the tote and shook it slightly. “So I thought I’d come over this morning and de-girl-ify your apartment.”
“Huh.” Jeff stared at her for a moment, and crossed the few feet between them to stand directly in from of Annie. He looked down at her as he took a sip of coffee, then held out Jeffrey. He his his smirk behind his mug as Annie looked from his face to the kitten and back, but he simply lifted the kitten toward her until she took it. With his now free hand, Jeff took the tote from her hands, then placed it and its twin on the love seat. He set his coffee mug down, and put both hands on her shoulders to guide her around the end of the couch. He pressed down lightly on her shoulders and she sat, the kitten still cradled against her chest as she looked up at him. He smiled and sat down next to her, reaching for his coffee and settled back against the couch.
“What?” Annie turned in her seat to face him, tucking one leg beneath her and smoothing her dark, calf-length knit skirt with one hand as she adjusted her hold on the kitten.
“Well, you said ‘live with them for a day.’” Jeff scratched at his scalp, belatedly realizing how lopsided his hair was and trying to smooth it a little. He gestured with his coffee cup toward the green throw pillows and the window dressing. “It hasn’t quite been a day.”
“I see.” Annie frowned slightly: That wasn’t quite what she’d said, but she’d let it go for the moment.
“Besides, I feel like it’s missing something.” Jeff met her eyes, then looked pointedly at the side table where the potted plant had sat temporarily. “It still feels a little like corporate housing to me.”
“I guess you have a point.” Annie smiled slightly and relaxed, settling into the couch and letting the kitten down to curl up in her lap. “We should do something about that.”
“I think the home and garden place should be open by now.” Jeff finished his coffee and stood, returning his empty mug to the kitchen. He walked back to the couch and cocked his head. “Think they’d have anything to make this place feel less temporary?”
“Probably.” Annie looked up from the sleeping kitten in her lap and smiled. “But what about Jeffrey?”
“Eh.” Jeff shrugged. “I’ll stick him in the pocket of my jacket. As long as he’s sleeping, who’ll know the difference?”
“And when your pocket starts meowing?”
“I’ll tell them it’s my ringtone.” Jeff bent his right arm behind his head and scratched between his shoulders, unaware of the sliver of skin revealed when his shirt shifted. “Let me get dressed, and we’ll figure out what to do with the kid.” He turned away to cross to his room, already wondering which shirts were still clean.
“What?” Annie’s strangled response gave him pause, but Jeff didn’t turn back, only paused momentarily.
“The kitten. I said we’ll figure out what to do with the kitten.”
“Oh.” Annie watched him enter his bedroom and close the door behind him. She raised her voice slightly. “I misheard. Sorry.”
Twenty minutes later, Jeff emerged from his room, dressed and ready to go. He approached the couch, where Annie still sat with Jeffrey curled in her lap. She was staring at the wall blankly, and Jeff leaned down, raising a hand to her shoulder.
“Ready to go?” He spoke softly, but Annie startled and flinched away from his touch. He crouched between the couch and the coffee table, looking up into her face. “Hey. You OK?”
“What?” Annie shook, more a shiver than a return to the present. “No. Yeah, no-” She paused, blinking quickly and smiled. “No, I’m fine. It was like-” She licked her lips and looked bemused. “Have you ever heard the saying ‘like someone walking over your grave?’” She shrugged and handed him the kitten so she could stand and shake out her skirt. “It was weird, but it’s nothing.”
“Are you sure?” Jeff asked, only half paying attention as he tried to maneuver the sleeping kitten into his pocket. He glanced back up at her as she picked up her purse and he patted down his pockets for wallet, cell phone and keys. She smiled and shrugged on her coat, then slipped her purse over her shoulder.
“Yeah. It’s nothing. Don’t you worry.”
***
