Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Sweetie?"  Tara glanced back down to the bowl and to Rupert standing over it with a proprietary air.  "Rupert's still not eating his wet food."

"Is he eating anything?"  Willow's came out of the backroom with a worried tone.

"He's eating the dry food.  It's just the wet food he won't touch, but he won't let the kittens near it either."  Tara shrugged.

"Still?"  Willow ducked her head out of the backroom.  "That's two days in a row.  He's been kinda . . . lazy lately too, huh?  Sitting by that window all the time."

Tara nodded, glancing back down at Rupert.  "I'm worried about him."

"Honey, if he doesn't start eating tomorrow . . ." Willow looked over to where Rupert sat, shaking her head sadly.  "We'll be taking you to the vet, little man."

Rupert only blinked at them and then glanced at the window.  He hoped they'd throw the food out soon.  And not only because it meant they would finally be leaving, he needed to get to his post in the window.  By the time they did it was more than dark out.  With the rain clouds, it had been dark all day, but now it was pouring and even the moon couldn't get through to light the streets outside.  The streetlamps were on, but they were barely halos through the torrential downpour.

Rupert sat still as stone, staring out into the dark and waiting.  His tail thumped lightly against the window sill.  His ears were tuned to the muffled sound of the rain, listening for any change at all.  He was glad there was no thunder or lightning.  The kittens would need him then and he didn't want to leave his post.

Another cat's face appeared in the window, wet and bedraggled, gray striped with wide eyes and drooping whiskers.  Rupert pushed his chin against the glass, unable to hear Wesley's purr, but able to feel it.  Rupert and Wesley watched one another, every night.  They would meet at the window and they would sit, communicating with body language when it was too loud outside for them to hear one another.

The other cat's mouth opened in a meow too soft to be heard over the rain and Rupert purred, butting his head against the glass.

-----

Wesley couldn't hear Rupert's voice tonight, but they could communicate with body language almost as well.  A flick of the tail, a wink of the eye, a chin rubbed against cold glass and Wesley was being told of his welcome.  It wasn't Rupert he didn't trust, it was the people.  He'd seen the things people did to cats.

He wished Rupert would come outside, get away from the humans while he could.  They could prowl together then, could stalk and scrounge and at night, when Wesley curled up somewhere dry, it would be a lot warmer with Rupert next to him.  Wesley had even promised to protect Rupert from the bigger strays.  Rupert had only laughed a little and said that he'd rather have Wesley in the bookstore to protect him from the kittens.

He put his paw against the window, meowing, though he knew Rupert couldn't hear him.  Rupert butted his head against the window and Wesley did the same.  It was Wesley's sign that he would be right back.  Leaving the window with a glance over his shoulder, he made his way to the gated alley beside the building.

It was a wooden gate, hard to climb, too high to jump, but Wesley could just squeeze himself through a small hole on one side.  The bigger strays couldn't get in there and Wesley had often found things to eat here.  That's how he'd met Rupert.  Sometimes, in the trash cans, there would be some dried up meat and Wesley loved that.  It was why he'd kept coming back.  Then Rupert had told him what it was, the remains of Rupert's and the kittens' meals, and he'd promised to make sure Wesley got more of it.  The past two nights there had been much more.  He'd worried a bit that Rupert was going hungry, but Rupert had assured him there was plenty of food for all of them.

Slithering into one of the cans, Wesley found the food right on top and happily munched it down before going back to visit at the window.  It was cold and wet, but he didn't want to find a curling up spot just yet.  He wanted to visit longer.  He'd found a nice dry spot not too far from the building.  He couldn't stay there last night, because of the bigger strays, but he thought he could get to it first tonight, but not yet.

He went back to the window, finding Rupert just where he had been.  Rupert's tail stopped twitching when Wesley appeared.

-----

Rupert looked up when Willow and Tara came inside the store.  He didn't bother to stand.  Even after Wesley had left, Rupert had kept watch on the small space beneath the neighbor's stairs, where Wesley had curled up for the night.  Wesley had assured him that he could take care of himself, but Rupert hated seeing Wesley scratched up or limping after confrontations with the bigger strays.  It wasn't as if he could get out there to help, but he couldn't bring himself to not watch, to not know.

He laid on the window sill and Willow and Tara gave him worried looks.  The kittens were bouncing around, twining about legs and meowing.  Faith was demanding to be fed, Buffy wanting to be petted, but Rupert laid his head back on the sill, staring out.

"I'm worried about him," Tara said, coming to pet at him.  He squirmed, but didn't move, his eyes fixed on a small opening next door.  He could just see Wesley's ear poking out of it.  Rupert meowed silently.  "Let's get the carrier and take him now."

Willow made a noise of agreement, but Rupert wasn't really listening.  He laid, watching, Tara running her hand over him.  He heard sounds from the back room, heard the kittens cheering as they were fed, then other sounds that were only vaguely familiar.  It all registered, but he paid it no attention.

He'd get up to eat in a moment.  Then Tara's grip tightened.  Rupert looked up, indignant and about to make his displeasure clear, when the woman picked him up.  He blinked, giving her a stern glare.  Excuse me, but what do you think you're doing?

At least the kittens were too busy eating to witness the indignity.

Tara pushed him inside a little cage and Rupert sighed, butting hard against the door with his head.  It didn't give and Rupert began complaining.  Let me out of here!  Oh, hell.  This is the last thing I want to be doing, you realize?  If you're taking me to that person again I warn you that you won't like the-- Willow lifted the carrier and Rupert tried to stabilize himself.  He still got bounced around a bit.

I don't want to leave!  He's out there by himself and if I'm not here you won't have to put food down for me and-- The carrier smacked lightly against the doorframe as Willow maneuvered him outside, pausing on the sidewalk for Tara to lock the bookstore.  Hey!  Could you be a bit more careful?

"He's gained weight," Willow said to Tara.

I have not!  I'm as trim as-- Wesley peeked out from under the stairs and Rupert butted his head against the cage again.

-----

Wesley saw Rupert, pinned inside a cage, heard him complaining.  He stepped out from under the stairs, watching with fear creeping through him.  He'd seen what some people did to cats.  Wesley had tried to warn Rupert, he'd worried that this would happen.  They'd get tired of him and toss him out, maybe even far away so that he couldn't bug them any longer.

Wesley didn't want to get too near the people, though.  If they grabbed him . . . but Rupert was caged and that was never good.

It's okay, Wesley, Rupert told him, They're just taking me away to-- and Wesley didn't even wait to hear the rest.  He bounded forward, inserting himself between the ankles of the woman carrying Rupert.  If he could make her drop the cage, maybe they could get it open.

"Tara?  It's that stray who's been hanging around.  He's always been so skittish . . ." the woman said, trying to step around him.

"It's almost like he wants something.  He certainly doesn't seem happy," the other woman--Tara?--said, Wesley thought to look at her just a second before the woman's hands closed over him and lifted him into the air.  Fear rushed through Wesley and he went still, trying not to move too much.  If she threw him, he'd be able to turn easier this way.

Then he realized they were going inside.  He twisted like mad, his heart beating fast and his stomach knotting.  The woman's grip was firm, however.  He struggled, finally getting loose just as the door closed.  He jumped to the floor in a blind panic, looking around for a place to hide.  Tara reached for him again and Wesley ran, wedging himself behind a bookcase, peeking out quickly to find Rupert's cage being set down.

Can you get the door open? he asked, ducking back behind the bookcase as Tara came nearer.

It won't budge, but . . . calm down.  Willow and Tara won't hurt you.  They're good people.

She grabbed me!  They were taking you away!  Wesley hissed, scrunching himself farther back when Tara reached in for him.  The woman apparently decided it was better not to stick her hand out there to be scratched.  She stood, giving him a strange look.

"Sweetie?  I think we should put the kittens up.  I don't want them out here until we can get him calmed down."

"Okay.  Yeah."  The other woman--Willow--reached down and snagged the two little bouncy bits of fluff Wesley had smelled but not seen.

This is Rupert's fault! the black-furred one was complaining.  Now the new cat's going to eat all our food!

Hush, Faith.  He's welcome to half of mine, Rupert said in an exasperated tone.  Wesley looked out from behind the bookcase, making sure there was no one coming to get him before focusing his eyes on Rupert.  They would have brought me back here, Rupert was saying to him, even as he butted his head against the door of the cage.  There's this woman they take me to see, but they always bring me home, Wesley.

Then why'd they put you in a cage? Wesley asked, ducking back behind the bookcase when he saw the women returning.

There are other animals there, not all of them nice.  They don't want me to get hurt.

They're coming back!  What are they going to do?

------

"He's a talkative little fellow, isn't he?  He's even got Rupert talking.  If we're going to take him to the shelter, we'll have get Rupert out of the carrier and into the back.  We only have the one." Tara was saying and Rupert perked up his ears.  Shelter?  The other cat wasn't going to say here?  With him?  They couldn't do that.

Willow picked up his carrier, setting it on the counter.  As soon as the door was opened, Rupert tried to jump down, but Willow grabbed him.  "Oh, no, mister.  You're going in the back, with the kittens."

I don't want to go in the back, with the kittens.  I want down!  Rupert kicked out of Willow's grip, claws accidentally raking her arm as he struggled for purchase.  Once down, he ran across to the bookcase.

"Damn!  He's never done that before."  Willow sounded slightly hurt, but he could make it up to her later.  The only way he was going to convince them not to take Wesley to the shelter was to use his secret weapon.  The one that his humans were completely helpless when faced with.

Wesley, Do you want to stay here?  With me? he asked Wesley as he got close to the bookcase.  Willow and Tara were coming toward him, but slowly.  They probably knew he'd wedge himself in somewhere if they came too quickly.  They're good people.  They've never hurt us.  They feed us, good food.  They pet us and we're responsible for the store at night.

Wesley looked at him with big, uncertain eyes, his bedraggled fur standing on end when Willow reached them.

Damn.  Realizing they were out of time, Rupert moved to the plan of last resort, the secret weapon: cuteness.  He rubbed up against the end of the bookcase, purring as loudly as he could.  The kittens were going to hear this, but he couldn't worry about dignity right now.

Both Willow and Tara stopped, looking at him oddly.

"Rupert's purring," Willow said softly, as if she were afraid speaking too loudly would make him stop.

"Yeah.  Loud.  I didn't know he could do it that loud."  Tara smiled at him and Rupert knew he was getting close.

Purr, Wesley.  They can't resist it, especially if you're cute while doing it.  I can't believe I'm doing this.

Wesley looked at him oddly, then peeked out at Willow and Tara.  As soon as his face cleared the edge of the bookcase, Rupert rubbed his chin against Wesley, licking the spot between Wesley's ears.

Wesley's eyes glazed over a little and he was suddenly purring, tilting his head toward Rupert.

"Aw," Willow said, her voice a bit higher than usual.  That was her, 'I'm melting in a good way,' tone.  "They like each other!"

"Maybe that's why the cat's been hanging around," Tara said with a little laugh.  "He doesn't look sick or anything . . . he's kinda wet, though."

"Oh!  I'll go put some towels in the oven.  Make them nice and warm for him."  Willow's voice was still in that slightly higher register.

"Okay.  I'll get him some food.  He's so skinny."

Rupert watched the two of them walk off with a satisfied grin.  Mission accomplished, Wesley licking at his ear, Rupert couldn't imagine why he hadn't stopped purring yet.