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“Dammit!”
Tommy bent over and carefully picked up the wrench he had just dropped.
He had fucked up his back the day before, so when he had come in for his regularly scheduled shift he had asked to be man behind, which meant that he was working on one of the choppers that needed some routine maintenance…but that also meant that he was the one who had to bend down and retrieve his own tools.
He glared at the tool in question and muttered under his breath as he adjusted the piece he was working on, “Stupid remote,” because that was how he had messed up his back—not that anyone knew that, of course. Evan had been worried when he had walked into their bedroom with one hand on his lower back, and Tommy had quickly reassured him that it was just a muscle strain from lifting something in the garage, not willing to admit that he had pulled the muscle in his lower back because he had been reaching for the remote that had been just barely out of his reach.
No, that was going to the grave with him.
The pilot finished adjusting the rotor and then went to grab the cleaning equipment, planning on giving the bird a thorough once over.
Captain Alvarez had been curious when he had asked to be man behind, and had given him a worried look and said, “You sure you’re okay? You don’t want the day off?” and he’d quickly reassured her with, “I’m fine, just sore. Thought that being man behind for a shift would be best,” and she had reluctantly nodded and agreed.
As he made sure he had everything he needed, his phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out to see that Evan had sent him a selfie, one thumb up, in front of a kid’s bouncy house that appeared to be half-collapsed.
Oh, it was going to be one of those days, Tommy mused as he got out the scrubbing tools and bucket of water, mentally preparing himself for more photos to come.
Whenever Evan ended up on a fun call, he liked to spam the airman with non-stop photos—and even though he pretended be annoyed by the entire thing, he secretly loved it, looking forward to each photo, knowing they would only get more unhinged as the day went on. Tommy scrubbed and scrubbed, grinning to himself when over the span of the next twenty minutes his phone buzzed five more times. How Evan was taking photos while still doing his job was a mystery to him, but he found it amusing, nonetheless. He replied to every photo with a comment or an emoji reaction, letting him know that he cared, even as he continued to clean.
He cleaned the way he always did, back to front, taking his time and making sure not to overextend himself and ruin his back any further…
…but just as the pilot got to the footwell of the pilot’s side, he heard a noise that wasn’t his phone, and furrowed his brow as he tried to figure out just what it was. It was fairly quiet, but sharp enough to have him wondering if an animal had gotten into the chopper.
And then a second later he heard a distinct, mrow!, and he blinked.
A cat?
Dropping his cleaning supplies, Tommy hoisted himself further into the pilot’s seat on his stomach, draping over it sideways as he looked deep into the foot well, wondering how he could have missed an entire cat…only to realize that the sound wasn’t coming from the foot well, but from under the co-pilot seat.
Realizing that he didn’t really have a choice, the airman reluctantly pretzeled himself into a position where he could look under the seat while not losing his footing…
…and there it was.
A tiny bundle of striped, gray fur with tiny white marks on both of its front paws sat curled up under the seat, its little body shaking, and he felt his heart clench at the sight and then he tried to figure out how he could get it out of there without hurting it. It was pressed up into a part of the chopper that was not easy to get to unless you were taking the seats out for an inspection, which was not happening any time soon as he didn’t have the right tools for it. Besides, that would probably terrify the little thing.
“Mrrrooow,” it yowled at him, its green eyes wide and cautious as it bared its teeth, and Tommy replied, “Yeah, yeah, I know, little one…let’s see what I can do about getting you out of there, hmm?” and slowly slid back until his feet were on solid ground and quickly came up with a plan.
He walked quickly to the half-kitchen in the corner and pulled out a container from the second shelf.
“Sorry, Donato,” he said to himself as he took out her tuna sandwich and pried apart the bread to scrape off the tuna into a small bowl, hoping that it would be enough to entice the creature out from its hiding spot, still wondering how a cat had gotten into the helicopter in the first place.
A minute later he was back at the chopper, ignoring the sound of his phone pinging in his back pocket.
Evan could wait.
“Okay, little one, what do you think…of this?” he said, wrangling himself back into the awkward position, pushing the small bowl in its direction. The cat blinked at him, hissed…but then slowly inched forward, tiny pink tongue darting out and licking its lips like it hadn’t eaten in a long time. They had only just taken the chopper out less than a day ago, but Tommy could tell that the cat—which was barely more than a kitten—hadn’t been properly fed.
It finally emerged from under the seat, but Tommy knew better than to grab at it too quickly. It wasn’t yet fully sure of its surroundings, so it needed to feel safe, first and foremost.
He watched it for a little while longer and then let out a sigh of relief when it moved closer to investigate him with ears and whiskers twitching curiously.
He found himself holding his breath and slowly exhaled before taking a slow, deep breath in, doing his best to level his breathing so he wouldn’t be seen as a threat. It cautiously creeped forward on the softest little paws he thought he had ever seen.
…and then it suddenly jumped towards him and the next thing he knew he had a cat perched on his shoulders and rubbing its tiny head against his jawline and ear, purring up a storm, and Tommy froze. He had spent plenty of time around animals, Sal’s own girls having two dogs and three cats, but he had never been so violently…cuddled with? He managed to slide backwards out of the helicopter without dislodging it, bringing the bowl of food along with him.
As he sat down on one of the nearby benches situated close to the lockers, he smiled as the cat dug its little claws into his shoulders to stay balanced, meowing loudly into his ear.
“You’re a talkative one, aren’t you?”
“Mrrrrroooow!” it yowled, and he grinned and fed it a little more tuna from the tip of his fingers, realizing he probably had a Maine Coon kitten, recognizing the dark tipped ears that tapered into an almost antenna-like point.
His phone buzzed in his pocket.
Tommy reached down and managed to dig it out, and his brow shot up as he saw just how many missed messages there were. He hastily thumbed open to the most recent one, which was from Evan five minutes earlier and simply read, are you okay??, and he sighed, and pressed a button to use voice to text and said, “Yes, I’m fine. Found a stowaway on our helicopter,” and snapped a picture of the cat still perched on his shoulders licking tuna from the tips of his other hand and sent it to him.
Less than a minute later he received a text back, OMG tell me you’re keeping it!, and he shook his head and snorted.
His boyfriend had been angling for the two of them to get a pet for a long time, and he could recognize him trying to bring it up again, even over text, and he sighed and adjusted his seat on the bench, trying not to dislodge the little predator still clinging to him and occasionally trying to take a bite out of his nose with one tiny paw on his face, claws digging into his chin.
He gently pried him off his face, fed the kitten the last of the tuna, wiped his hand on his pants alongside the motor oil staining it, and then used both fingers to type back, Nice try, Evan. It probably has an owner, and smiled when he felt the large kitten lay down more firmly across the back of his shoulders, the weight of it confirming that it was a young Maine Coon.
Tommy carefully stood back up and headed to the kitchen to get water.
A few seconds later, just as he gave the kitten a sip of cold water, a voice said from behind, “Oh…my…god. Do my eyes deceive me, or are you wearing a kitten as a scarf, Kinard?”
Just his luck, it was Donato.
“Donato, say another word and I’ll have Alvarez put you on man behind for the rest of the month,” he lowly threatened, not taking his eyes away from the cat gently slurping water from the bowl, draping its little head over his shoulder, heavy as a paperweight, and then briefly glanced up and looked at her directly. “Found this little one in the chopper that we took out yesterday. We need to see if anyone in East Hollywood is missing a Maine Coon kitten…”
She walked up to him and gently reached out a hand and didn’t hesitate to try and scratch behind the kitten’s ears…but then the cat hissed and swiped, the first sign of aggression he’d truly seen from it.
Tommy chuckled and reached up and gently scratched it behind the ear and it immediately purred and pressed its head into the pilot’s neck.
“Nice try. This little one seems particularly attached to me,” he said with a smug grin, watching Lucy as she shook her hand and stuck her tongue out at the feral kitten, looking more amused than truly upset. “By the way, I fed it the tuna from your sandwich.”
“You what? Kinard, that was my lunch!”
He shrugged, not caring, feeling an odd sort of warmth in his chest at the way the small animal favored him and nuzzled into him, and said, “Yeah, well…it was sacrificed for the greater good. This little one was hungry, and this was the best I could do with limited resources. What, did you want me to feed it Edwards’ leftover lasagna?” he quipped, and at that Lucy laughed and lobbed back, “Only if you wanted to kill it!”
They shared a chuckle and then she circled around him, and he figured she was getting a good look at the cat.
After a moment, she said, “Well, wouldja look at that. It’s a girl,” and he gave her a look.
“And you would know this how…?”
“I grew up with cats,” she explained, a soft smile crossing her face as Tommy gently moved the cat from the back of his neck to settle in the curve of his arm. “My parents loved them, and we probably had around eight of them over the years…they foster them, now, and whenever I go home there’s always someone new to meet. Also, she’s a Maine Coon,” she pointed out.
He nodded and said, “Yeah, I recognized that much. Ally, Lily, and Izzy have been trying to convince Sal for years to get them one,” and then looked down at the adorable bundle of fur in his arms, already regretting the fact that they would have to put up pictures to see who she belonged to. “Too bad she can’t go to them. We need to find your owners little one,” he said, unconsciously pitching his voice up, ignoring the way Lucy was giving him a look.
Seconds later, a helicopter landed and suddenly Tommy was surrounded by the rest of the A-shift of the 217, all of them cooing over the adorable kitten that refused to let anyone else touch her, clinging to him with a ferocity that had several of the first responders bent over in stitches.
“I have to admit, she’s a pretty little thing,” Captain Alvarez said, smiling up at the kitten that was once more perched on the pilot’s shoulders.
Tommy nodded.
“Yeah, sure is…but she’s not mine, and I’ve got to find her family,” he said with an arched look—and then was taken off guard when Alvarez said, “I have a feeling she doesn’t belong to anyone, Kinard. She’s a Maine Coon, sure, which means that she is definitely worth something, but look at her: she’s thin, malnourished, small cuts on her paws, probably has some sort of disease…I mean, we’ll go ahead and send a picture to the local vets in East Hollywood, but I doubt anyone out there could have afforded her. Underneath all that grime is a fine little feline who was most likely deliberately abandoned because they couldn’t afford to keep her…”
His captain wriggled her fingers at the kitten currently trying to curl itself around Tommy’s neck in the slowest, fluffiest, most adorable chokehold he had ever experienced, and he mused that she was most likely right—but still. He didn’t want to take the risk that he was stealing someone’s beloved family pet.
“I’ll take that into consideration, captain,” he said, placating her, and then sighed as she walked away.
He then reached up and grabbed the kitten and held her in front of him, making sure to hold her correctly and stared into her pretty green eyes.
“Even though you’re not mine, you need a name…” She let out a plaintive meow that still sounded more like a stuck helicopter blade than an actual meow…and he had a burst of inspiration. “I know, how about…Rotor?”
She immediately started purring and he put her back into the curve of his arm…where she then proceeded to try and crawl up the front of his shirt to regain her previous perch, and he laughed and unhooked her claws and gently tightened his grasp on her.
“Okay, okay…looks like you’re coming home with me, tonight.”
--
“Oh my god, she is so cute!” Evan said from where he was sitting on the floor with her, and Tommy rolled his eyes and tried his best to not be jealous of the fact that Rotor seemed to like Evan just as much as she liked the pilot. “And look at the size of her paws! Oh, she’s gonna be so big…! Tommy, we have to keep her!”
“Evan, we can’t,” he stressed as he finished tossing the salad, as it was his turn to cook.
His boyfriend looked up at him.
“But why not? You’ve already had her for two days and there’s been no response!”
Tommy let out a frustrated sigh and rolled his head on his shoulders that still had small pinpricks of red on it from Rotor’s perching habit. Okay, so he wasn’t entirely wrong. Evan had been on the beginning of a thirty-six when Tommy had only been on a standard twelve, and he had started a few hours before his boyfriend, so that meant the notice he had put up in the middle of the day roughly two days ago had gone unanswered during that entire time.
As he brought the salad to the table, he said, “Okay, sure, you have a point…but we can’t keep her, Evan! With our schedules? It’s impractical. Dinner’s on the table,” he added, giving him a look that he hoped was intimidating enough to get him off the floor.
Luckily, it seemed to work, as Evan came up off the floor…only to bring Rotor with him, the traitor perched on his boyfriend’s shoulder.
“Evan. No cats at the table.”
“But look at her!” He gestured to her with one hand as he grinned, unable to keep from smiling. “It’s not like she’s gonna jump off—”
And as if Rotor was determined to prove him wrong, she leapt from his shoulder and Tommy barely caught her in time, grasping her out of midair to a chorus of yowls and kitty outrage that was far more cute than upsetting, and shot his boyfriend a stern glare.
“You were saying?”
He appeared to be sufficiently embarrassed, and ducked his head and reluctantly let Tommy put her back onto the floor without any more protests—though Rotor protested enough for both of them, letting out her scratchy meows over and over again as they ate their dinner, the conversation shifting to the long call that Evan had been caught up in when Tommy had found the rogue kitten in his helicopter.
Eventually Rotor stopped complaining and reverted to being only mildly annoying by batting at the back of Tommy’s ankles, her claws snatching at his Achilles tendons with a surprising tenacity and painful accuracy.
He winced every time they hit…but inwardly smiled at her personality.
By the time they finished dinner, however, she had ended up on top of his feet, instead, and was soundly asleep, leaving him at a loss.
“Well, you can’t move. That’s the rule of owning a cat,” Evan said as he stood and cleared the table, arching one smug eyebrow at the pilot and he glared at his boyfriend and retorted, “That’s not a real rule and you know it,” but his boyfriend countered with, “Oh, yes it is—talk to any cat owner in the world, and they’ll tell you the same thing…”
Tommy let out a long sigh and glanced down at the bundle of fur on his feet, feeling her purrs vibrating against his toes, and he couldn’t help but smile. He stayed there as Evan served them both bowls of the ice cream that they had been saving for the day before their shared forty-eight off. Once the ice cream had been finished, Rotor’s little body had shifted and she now lay on the floor under the table and Tommy smiled as she moved in her sleep, her little paws twitching at the same time her ears and whiskers did.
Evan remarked, “You know, cats are pretty self-sufficient. We, uh…we don’t have to be here twenty-four seven,” he gently pressed. “We can get a litter box, and we have neighbors that we trust who could look in on her when our long shifts overlap…”
He felt more of his resolve crumble.
“…Maybe.”
--
“Rotor!”
He heard a scrambling of claws on tile at his yell, and Tommy let out a sigh and stared down at the ruined t-shirt in his hands that he had left to dry on a hanger in the laundry room, thinking that maybe keeping her had been a mistake.
After no one had come out of the woodwork to claim her, Tommy and Evan had decided to hold onto her for a while longer…and then had officially adopted her after getting Rotor her shots and as well as getting her chipped. His home had become half home, half cat playground, and now she was no longer a tiny two-month-old kitten at a mere four pounds but was now a nine-month-old eleven-pound menace who prided herself on causing chaos wherever she went.
“Did she do something?” Evan shouted from the other room, and Tommy shouted back, “Yeah! She ruined my Clippers shirt, the little menace…”
His boyfriend poked his head through the doorway.
“Uh, I’ve seen that shirt babe. She did you a service,” he said with an amused smirk. “Besides, the Clippers have always sucked. Lakers are better,” he added as he disappeared back around the doorway, and Tommy made a face at his back.
“You don’t even like basketball!”
Evan’s laughter followed after him as he called back over his shoulder, “And yet somehow both me and the cat know enough about basketball to know that the Clippers suck,” and Tommy absently flipped him the finger as he stared down at his ruined t-shirt that now had holes in it going from the shoulder down to the middle from where Rotor had apparently tried to climb it in an attempt to get to the top of the laundry cabinet, a favorite hiding spot of hers.
Shaking his head, he muttered under his breath, “Yeah, yeah, everybody’s a critic,” and then noticed a familiar pair of paws peeking out from around the edge of the pocket door, and he said, “I know you and Evan are in on this,” and received a scratchy meow in return.
He smiled.
Okay, maybe the Clippers did suck.
--
Tommy stared at the clock, waiting for it to change. As soon as the hour hand turned to the six, he got out of the 217 as quickly as he could, doing his best to ignore the laughter following after him about the phone call he had received only ten minutes before the end of his shift.
His phone had buzzed right after he’d gotten out of the chopper and he had answered on speakerphone without thinking about it with a cheery, “Hey Evan!”—only to be taken off guard by his boyfriend’s frantic tone as he practically shouted over the phone, “Rotor is stuck in the freakin’ pull-out couch! The one in the guest room that’s broken, and I can’t get her out!” and in the background he had been able to hear a very loud yowling sound…
…and so had everyone else on shift with him.
And now he was rushing home to help his boyfriend extricate their cat from the depths of the broken monstrosity that he had been meaning to replace for the past ten years.
As he walked through the front door he shouted out, “I’m here!”
“In here!”
Evan sounded exhausted and defeated, and when Tommy entered their guest room, he noticed a familiar slant to his shoulders that told him just how long he had been trying to get Rotor out of the sleeper sofa. He sidled up behind him and gently ran his hand over his spine up to the back of his neck and he gently squeezed it.
Trying to control the laughter he wanted so badly to let loose, he bit his tongue and instead said, “How long has she been stuck in there?”
“I don’t know. She was fine when I left to go to the store,” he explained, collapsing onto the chair nearest the door. “When I came back an hour or so later, I didn’t see her and figured that she was hiding the way that she sometimes does. But then by the time I finished baking all the cookies for Jee’s bake sale, I realized she hadn’t come out in a while, so I went looking for her…and then I walked in here and heard—”
“Mrrrrrrroooooooowwww!”
“—that.”
Tommy felt his heart clench in sympathy at the same time he broke into giggles, unable to keep himself together, which earned him an upward glare from his boyfriend. He did his best to straighten back up and stifle his laughter, and then haltingly said, “I…I’m so…I’m so sorry, Evan. I know…I know it must be…scary, but I just…oh, god, I’m sorry for laughing, it’s just…just…”
“Yeah, yeah, get it out of your system,” his boyfriend said with a wave of his hand, rolling his eyes, but that was enough to help Tommy sober up, and he shook his head and hastily reassured him, “No, no. I’m done. C’mon, let’s see if we can break this open and get her out of there.”
Between the two of them, they were able to use some tools from Tommy’s toolbox in the garage to gain enough leverage to pry the couch open—and Rotor immediately scrambled out and practically leapt on top of Tommy’s shoulders, meowing loudly the entire time, and the pilot had no doubt that she was trying to tell him how horribly neglected she had been while the airman had been on shift, and he merely shook his head and scratched her behind the ears.
Evan gestured up at her, looking and sounding thoroughly annoyed.
“Oh, right, because I’m not the one who spent the last hour trying to free you! Oh, yeah, I can totally feel the love,” he grumped, and Tommy felt his heart go out to him.
Reaching up, he gently pried Rotor off her favorite perch and said to her, “Hey, pretty girl, how about you show your other daddy that you love him, too, huh? He did do everything he could to get you out, little one…”
She tilted her fluffy head…
…and then let out a very soft, “Mrow,” and almost daintily jumped over to Evan, sticking her little claws into his hoodie to cling to him like a tree and then nuzzling gently under his chin, as if apologizing for her previous snubbing, and he watched as his boyfriend melted almost immediately, running his fingers through her thick, luscious fur, saying, “Okay, I love you, too, you little monster,” and pressed his nose to hers.
Tommy smiled.
--
He felt numb as he stepped inside the front door.
His bag thumped heavily against the floor, but he barely registered it, his ears still ringing with the cries from the high-rise structural fire that he had been called to along with the 126, the sound of sirens and screaming echoing around in his head until he couldn’t tell the difference.
As he kicked off his shoes, he blearily noticed Rotor walking up and sniffing in his direction, her tail twitching, and he knew that it was the smell of smoke that bothered her.
“Hey, baby, I know,” Tommy said as he reached down and dragged the tips of his fingers lightly through her luscious fur that was now fully fluffed at over a year old. “I’ll get you your dinner…”
He then blinked and slowly made his way to the kitchen, his hands and body doing everything automatically as he picked up her food dish and then put in the combination of dry and wet food that they had found worked well for her sensitive stomach. He then placed it on the floor, double checked her water, and turned and took his aching body up the stairs to his bedroom, already stripping his clothes and leaving them on the banister. He hadn’t showered at the station, so he was going to use their shower.
…but he and Evan had a rule: no smoky clothes in the bedroom or bathroom.
By the time he made it to their shared bathroom and started the water, he began to feel the aches and pains that he hadn’t yet fully registered.
The water beat down on his shoulders…and Tommy closed his eyes and let it wash over him. He felt the water find every small cut on the back of his neck as it sluiced the dirt off his skin, and he opened his eyes just enough to look down and see the mixture of brown, dark gray, and red drain across the bottom of the shower stall.
Evan wasn’t home—he wouldn’t be for another eighteen hours because he was on a twenty-four and had only started six hours ago—which meant that Tommy would be completely alone as he dealt with the fallout from the hardest fire he had dealt with in years. It wasn’t the worst fire he had ever put out, but it was definitely in the top three, and he knew he wouldn’t be sleeping any time soon. He could still hear Alvarez over his headset, her words stuck in his skull, shouting, “Kinard! Pull out! It’s going down and you can’t be caught in the displacement!”, and he hated himself for following her orders…but he also knew it had been the right thing.
Donato had been yelling at him, too, and as they’d pulled back everything exploded, the top four floors exploding outwards in a spray of dangerous chemicals and debris.
Tommy could feel the phantom heat of the blast across his cheek and hand on his right side.
Feeling the darkness inching in on his thoughts, he shook his head and focused on scrubbing off the last of the fire, using the soap that Evan had especially bought for both of them, using it perhaps a bit too roughly on his skin, but not caring, only thinking about removing any scent of smoke from his body.
By the time he was done with his shower, he felt…empty.
He turned to the sink, wrapped a towel around his waist, and then grabbed his electric razor and ran it lazily—but not quickly—over his jaw, not enjoying the feeling of stubble when he slept. He felt something soft at his ankles and didn’t have to look down to know that Rotor was there being the cutest little tripping hazard. He felt her tail curve around the back of his calf, practically all the way up and around his knee—damn, she was getting big.
“Hey, pretty girl,” he said, not quite smiling. “Missed you…”
“Mrow,” she chirped crisply, sounding like a candy wrapper, and the pilot briefly wished that he felt better, wanting to shower her with attention the way he usually did when he got home, but not having any of the energy to. He couldn’t help but feel like a bad cat dad.
A new layer of guilt washed over him as he wiped his face and then dropped the towel, grabbing a clean pair of boxers from the dresser. He slipped them over his hips…and then collapsed face down onto the mattress, not even bothering with getting under the unmade sheets. Evan must have been in a rush, he mused, running his hand over the pillow on his boyfriend’s side of the bed that still had a faint indent in it.
…and that was when it hit him.
He suddenly found himself wracked with body-wrenching sobs that had him curling into the fetal position on the bed, and ugly, fat tears fell, and Tommy knew that this was one of the bad ones as he hadn’t cried this much since his own mom had died when he was only eleven.
His entire body shaking, he grabbed at the wrinkled sheets and dragged them to his chest, using it to dry his tears, only for them to replace themselves seconds later.
A few minutes passed…and then from the foot of the bed, Tommy heard a faint, familiar crunchy chirping sound.
He managed to pause long enough to lift his head and say, “Rotor, not now,” assuming she was begging for her usual after dinner treats—but then was taken off guard when she jumped up onto the bed, her weight heavy enough for him to feel the mattress dip, and the pilot shook his head, knowing that she wasn’t technically supposed to be on their bed, but not having the heart to scold her when he was already feeling so miserable.
But then instead of trying to cause havoc by squirming under the sheets or attacking his ankles, Rotor was pressing into his personal space in a way he hadn’t expected—she snugged her side up into his stomach and then his chest, shoving her head under where he had the sheets pinned against him, wriggling her large frame between his death grip on the blankets and his pectorals, the top of her head butting up beneath his chin, letting out a plaintive sound he had never heard before.
He blinked at her odd behavior and said through his tears, “Rotor, what are you…?”
And then she began to purr.
Tommy’s heart skipped a beat…
…and then he gently tightened his grip and held her to his chest as tightly as he dared, chuckling wetly when one of her paws snuck out and batted at one of his cheeks, like she was scolding him for being too emotional, and for a brief moment he felt like he wasn’t completely alone.
Not caring that anyone hearing him might call him insane, he began to talk to her.
“Today was a really bad one,” he said, moving one hand to scratch under her chin, her purring growing louder. “We couldn’t get everyone out in time because of the sheer number of people and the fact that we didn’t have enough resources…unlike you, you little glutton,” he added, trying to lighten his own mood. “You have enough treats and toys to last you through an apocalypse…” The airman paused. “…I couldn’t actually hear their screams, but my mind likes to play tricks on me, you know? Like the way you do…”
Rotor chirruped and rotated in his grasp, now lying on her back with her paws in the air, her back paws pressed up against his bicep, her front paws under his chin, her green eyes looking up at him as if she understood every word he said.
Tommy let out a soft sigh.
“I feel like I could have saved more of them if we had gotten there sooner. If I had only pressed a little bit harder, we could have gotten more people out…”
Rotor pressed her paw more firmly under his chin until he said, “Okay, ow, no more of that,” and he gently grasped her paw and looked down at her, saying, “I’m spilling my guts to you, I don’t need you mauling me, you little monster,” and was met with a confused head tilt and a plaintive, “Mrow,” and Tommy shook his head.
“I’m talking to a cat,” he muttered under his breath…but then he realized that he felt lighter, the way he usually did after talking with Evan, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she had been mimicking Evan’s behavior after seeing it over the past few months. He shook his head at the thought, rationalizing that she had most likely smelled the distress coming his pores and had simply reacted to it.
Whatever it was, he was grateful for it.
He opened his arms to completely let her go…but instead of bounding away with a spring in her step the way she usually did, Rotor stayed right where she was, pressed up to his chest and tucked up under his chin, rolling slightly only to burrow her head into the space between his neck and shoulder, instead pawing at his chest, claws retracted, and he stared at the little feline with wide eyes, trying to understand her actions.
“Mrrrow,” she trilled, a sound that the pilot was certain he had never heard her make before.
Feeling silly, Tommy mocked her, saying, “Mrrrow?”, and she repeated her trill and tried to tuck herself even closer to him…and his heart melted.
“Well…okay, then, Rotor. You wanna hear about how Lucy messed up everyone’s lunch order yesterday? It’s a pretty funny story, and it does involve tuna,” he said, and she purred some more and nuzzled her nose near his armpit.
He took that as a yes.