fandomhigh | Library, [10/24]

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Library, [10/24]

It was probably important to note here that Jonothon really didn't hate life, the universe, and everything. But when faced with the option of spending a day in the library hiding from the brunch, all full of people and space dolphins and food, he really had found himself deciding that it was his only option, thank you so very much.

And, once he'd done his usual duties for the day, he was going to spend the rest of his shift leaning back into a chair and reading a Douglas Adams book about some sort of holistic detective, just to get this weird urge to start decorating the place with bowls of petunias out of his system.

Bloody space dolphins.

[Open!]

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...

...

There was a kitten in George's coat. Why was there a kitten in George's coat? Okay, it was probably time to cover all of the bases, here. Fandom. George was still relatively new.

//Friend of yers? You didn't kiss some bloke and then this happened, did you?//

"What?" George said, staring at Jono and not following his line of logic whatsoever. "I didn't kiss anybody! That was Friday! And she's a pet! Not my pet. I can't keep her!"

There. That was very helpful.

//You have... somebody's kitten. Cat-sitting, then?//

She was doing an awful lot of freaking out, there. Which really served to get a stranger look from Jono with every passing moment.

"No," she said. "She needs a home. I --"

... shit.

"-- found her," she lied, badly. "I went to the mainland and she just ... looked sad so I ..."

Fucking hell.

"Look, I can't keep her," she insisted. "I'm so bad with pets. Do you know what happens to my pets?"

//No, George. I don't know what happens to yer pets. That would require an added level of extrasensory perception that I'm in no mood to hone, today.//

He stared at the kitten.

The kitten stared back.

//In th'habit of taking in strays often?//

"No," George said. "She's not a stray. She --"

Way to fuck up your story, which was all of two sentences long, George.

"I -- don't think you want to know," she said. "But she had an owner, and now she doesn't, and I can't take her. I had a rat, and it died. I had a baby chick, and it died. Actually, the cat ate it, and then choked to death. Is that what you want for her?"

If the kitten was a her. She didn't trust Bean Dip to be positive on that matter, especially not if he'd named her Garcia.

Wonderful. Jono was now apparently the only hope of survival for a small... fluffy thing.

//Why me, George?//

He didn't even know what kind of pet owner he was. Give him three days, and the hairball would probably have... caught on fire, or something.

Garcia, who hopefully would be getting a better name than Garcia shortly, mewled sadly. She was sitting on a desk and there were people talking and this was scary. And when things were scary someone should be petting her, but no one was.

"I ... don't know," George admitted. "I don't ... really have a lot of friends."

Or any.

Oh, both of you, break Jonothon's flaming nonexistant heart. Honestly, now. That was a dual-effort gut wrenching, if ever Jonothon had seen one.

Which, naturally, meant that Jono was going to tentatively reach out a finger to scratch behind the kitten's ear.

//I've never kept a pet before,// he cautioned. //I mean... I... I don't eat. I might skip feedings. Or... sommat.//

Garcia mewed again. When Jono's fingers reached her, she turned, ducking her head under his palm and nudging insistently.

Assisted petting! See, it was so easy! Didn't he want to?

"They get loud, if you do," she said. "I -- I'm sorry? I was just, off running errands --"

Yes. Errands.

"-- and then, bam, kitten, and I couldn't just -- leave her there. Could I?"

Edited 2010-10-24 23:32 (UTC)

Oh, God. It was being all adorable at him.

//... No, I suppose not.// The kitten, having made one pass under his hand, made an about-face and headed back the other way for another go at this whole assisted petting deal.

And then, Jonothon's fate was sealed.

//I'll watch her until I find somebody more suited to take care of her, I suppose.//

Even if George's story went from 'somebody's pet' to 'bam, kitten' over the span of a goodly two minutes of conversation. The little thing was making up Jono's mind for him, discrepancies aside.

Adorable was totally part of a kitten's arsenal. How else were they supposed to survive?

"Thank you," she said, before shuddering. "Weird day."

Which he was probably going to ask her about later. Fuck.

//I can't imagine,// Jono replied, in a tone that would have been far more dry were he not currently very distracted by a tiny kitten. //Does yer stray pet have a name, luv?//

Asked, naturally, while he scooped the kitty up in his hands and cuddled her up against one shoulder.

Shut up.

"Stoner guy was calling her Garcia," she said. Fuck it, she'd said too much already, might as well go for broke.

This did not mean the name had to stick. Obviously.

//Well... it's very...// Jono squinted a little as the kitten batted at his ear.

Awww.

//Spanish. Which I have nothing against, but it really doesn't suit her.// Because Jonothon, who didn't have any idea what to do with a cat, absolutely knew what sorts of names suited her. Mostly, he just wanted to edge away from whatever 'stoner guy' had to do with her. Because that didn't appeal to him in the least. //Much more a Joni, I'd say.//

Like the singer, naturally.

Sadly, George's knowledge of older folk idols was limited.

"You ... didn't just name her after yourself, did you?"

Just checking.

...

//When I get back to our room tonight, remind me to give you a proper education in th'way of Joni Mitchell, luv. Big Yellow Taxi? 'They paved paradise and put up a parking lot?'//

A mew backed that up in its own special way, right there.

//Ring a bell at all?//

Jonothon was kind of struck completely aghast, here.

"I think I've heard that," George shrugged. "It's not your usual kind of music, is it?"

The kitten would be okay with George practicing the drums, right?

//I have a lot of usual kinds of music, luv,// Jono replied, shrugging. He was full of surprises that way. //You should see my collection of Japanese remasters.//

No, George. Don't do it. There was no escape if you let him start showing off his music collection.

//It isn't what I tend to play, but that's mostly because I need more t'do with my fingers than just strum. And I can't sing.//

"That's why we have Christian," George said easily. "Unless you've decided to undo the band."

Had he? She still sucked on drums, so she was kind of hoping maybe he had.

Edited 2010-10-25 02:43 (UTC)

Jono was giving George a look. A look that was a cross between 'I am absolutely horrified that you've even suggested such a thing,' and 'the only reason I haven't reached across the desk in order to smack you yet is because there is a kitten licking my ear.'

//I've decided to do no such thing,// he informed her. //Glee Club has decided to do numbers that evening as well, as opening acts, I suppose. It's almost like an actual concert, now.//

Wasn't that wholly reassuring, George?

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Library, [10/24]

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