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Big Bang! You've Got to Be Kitten Me, Part 2
Master Post
Part 1
Life as a delivery messenger puts him in front of all sorts of people, but he never has to talk to any of them. Not really. Ninety-nine percent of the time, customers just want their packages and all he has to do is read off the intended recipient and ask for a signature, then he’s on his way to the next stop. There is never any reason for conversation beyond that, and he rather enjoys it that way.
Office buildings are always bustling, offices noisy, security and administrative staff chatty at times, but he doesn’t have to invest any energy beyond the drop-off and getting the John Hancock. He gets to witness life in motion, but never has to participate.
It’s perfect.
And the cat may have disrupted his life, wedging himself into the general routine that keeps Jensen living stress free and relaxed, but there’s a new comfort in having someone waiting for him when he gets home from work. Or even if Jensen is gone for a few hours running his own errands, maybe even to the movies, the cat is there with his incessant meows, begging to know where in the hell Jensen has been. As if he’s gone off to war, left without a goodbye, and it’s been terrified to receive word from the government of Jensen’s demise.
“Hey, bud,” Jensen says when it approaches him as he rolls to a stop in front of his building.
The kitten, growing by the day and now about the size of a small adult cat, winds itself all around Jensen’s ankles with a drawn-out, insistent meowwww.
“Yeah, I know, bud,” he acknowledges with a few head rubs.
Jensen finds himself smiling at the kitten pushing itself into his hand and he thinks that he’s getting used to all this and maybe it should finally have a name. All he ever says is bud in lieu of any better ideas coming to mind.
“You like that?” Jensen continues petting along its cheek, warming up the more and more it head butts him for more attention.
Even out on the street with the noises of chirping birds and cars coming up and down the road, the purring is loud enough to be heard, constant and hard enough to be felt against his fingers, and Jensen’s cheeks suddenly hurt from smiling so hard.
“Yeah, you really like that, bud?”
Meowwww. It stops moving against him, standing up straight on its hind legs to look up at Jensen. Waiting.
He chuckles. “I bet you’re hungry, huh? Waiting for me to open up one of those cans you like so much?”
Meow.
“Yeah, the chicken with cheese is your fave. I know it, bud.”
Meowwwwwwwwwww.
On the snail-pace elevator ride upstairs, Jensen looks at the cat and shrugs. “You like bud? Is that a weird name?”
It ruts up against his shin with a chirpy meow, and Jensen supposes that’s as close to agreement as he’ll get.
“Alright, then we’ll go with Buddy. Don’t need you to be named after beer.” After a moment, he augments that with a roll of his eyes. “A cheap domestic one, at that.”
* * *
Just as every other week day, Jensen bikes down his block and sees Buddy standing in front of the building, waiting patiently as ever. The cat bounces on its paws when Jensen gets closer, then stretching up when Jensen leans down to pat its head. It butts up against Jensen’s palm, pushing harder for more pressure and meows when Jensen stands up straight to get off his bike and carry it up the stairs.
They walk in together, Buddy sliding in right along with Jensen before the door closes, and Jensen chuckles a little. “You have a good day?” Buddy rubs all along Jensen’s calf, nearly falling over with the power of his impact. “Get into any trouble, you dumbo?”
When Jensen looks up, he’s face to face with the red head. The one he keeps running into on his worst of days, who never gives him a break when he just doesn’t want to talk whatsoever and finds himself saying the wrong words.
She’s holding envelopes and closing her mailbox while eyeing Jensen, critically considering him and then giving a passing glance to Buddy.
“Not you,” Jensen insists. “I wasn’t talking to you.”
“I sure hope not,” she replies tightly.
“I was talking to the cat.”
She looks at the cat again then slowly brings her sights up to Jensen. “You’ve been letting all the strays into the building?”
“No!” he insists, the word loudly echoing in the small foyer. He clears his throat and lowers his voice. “I’m not letting all strays in. Just this one.” Her eyes narrow and he continues to explain. “He lives with me now. He’s kind of been my shadow for a while now so I decided to let him stay.”
She makes a noise, a kind of mad yet thoughtful sound, then tucks her mail under her arm and moves past him to leave. “Have you taken him to a vet yet?”
Jensen stumbles over that thought, suddenly worried that there is something wrong with Buddy that he can’t see. Something she can notice in just seconds. His mind also flashes back to the vet he met at the pet store … the incredibly gorgeous one he thought was flirting but really just handed over a business card. Fuck, now his mood drops with all these thoughts swirling together so he grumbles, “No, I didn’t really think – ”
“I can get you the number of a – ”
“I think we’re fine, thank you,” he says quickly, and maybe a little too forcefully. He wants to end this line of thinking immediately. “He’s been perfectly fine.”
“Yeah, perfectly fine living on the streets for some time and now you’re – ”
“And now I’m taking care of him.” He doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t wait for her to reply, just walks right to the elevator. He’s more than a little annoyed when Buddy takes his time to look at the woman before finally running to catch up.
On the ride up to his floor, the whole conversation runs through his head. A few times, certain lines repeating over and over, and he’s feeling sharp and defensive. As if he can’t manage to watch over a cat that obviously rather enjoys being with him. A cat that follows him in and out of the building without question and happily eats the food and treats Jensen spent a considerable amount of time researching once he got his wits about him as to all the requirements of cat life.
He doesn’t need some stranger, one with a particular chip on her shoulder, to tell him what he’s doing.
And now I’m taking care of him, he hears himself having said and that stalls him once he’s at his apartment door with keys in hand.
He didn’t expect any of this to happen to him. Didn’t anticipate bringing in a stray cat and racking up the hours of searching the internet for the best food, toys, litter, and cat beds to keep Buddy as happy as possible. He never in all his years ever thought he’d be in this position to care so much about what someone thinks about his role as caretaker.
He never imagined having to take care of someone other than himself.
It’s all so very confusing if he really thinks too much on it, to compare it to how he’s lived his life the last few years. Compared to the amount of time and energy he has always put into keeping himself together, keeping to himself to avoid confrontations like these with this woman.
He supposes that shifting his focus from tempering all of his emotions and anxieties into watching over Buddy has been a nice transfer of energy, really, and if that helps him get through the day with a little less stress weighing him down, then who is that lady to judge how he takes care of Buddy? He thinks he’s doing a rather fine job as is, and Buddy doesn’t seem to be complaining as he keeps rubbing against Jensen’s shin, winding in between Jensen’s feet, and finally stretching up to paw at Jensen’s thigh.
Jensen pats Buddy’s head with a small smile, appreciating how even the sudden wind up of emotions on the elevator is already dissipating when he looks at Buddy’s big green eyes and feels the silkiness of the fluffy hair under his fingers, white starting to mix in with new shades of grey.
So maybe Jensen isn’t the most emotional man in the world. And maybe it’s taken a long time to get to this point, to be patient and thoughtful for the cat. And maybe he could be doing more – oh how that scares him, though, if he thinks on it too long – but they both seem fairly happy, sharing each other’s burdens and lightening the load.
Yeah, he’s taking care of Buddy, and Buddy kind of takes care of Jensen in his own way. He thinks they’re both doing pretty okay with the arrangement.
Especially when Jensen is settling down in front of the TV with a beer in one hand and Buddy’s head resting against the other, softly purring with every touch even when Jensen’s starting to focus in on his shows. The rest of the night goes on like this, the only real differences come in Jensen getting another beer or Buddy shifting around to find more comfortable positions, but never straying away from Jensen’s reach.
Buddy is a large pile of furry cat at Jensen’s side, and Jensen finds himself smiling for the first time since he left for work early that morning.
* * *
Cleaning up one Saturday, Jensen unearths a business card. That business card, and he’s immediately transported to the nightmare pet store visit with the stubborn clerk. But that’s not what really stick hard in his mind; it’s Jared, the gorgeous guy he talked to after. The one Jensen thought there was some kind of connection forming with until the card made its appearance and Jensen realized it was all a rouse for some sly advertising of the animal clinic.
Jensen reads the card again and again, turns it over and fights a smirk at the cartoonish drawing of a cat and dog nudging noses.
It’s been weeks since Buddy became part of Jensen’s life, burrowing into his home and maybe his heart, and Jensen still hasn’t drummed up the courage to get him checked for a microchip. At this point, there’s worry built up that Jensen will indeed find out who Buddy really belongs to and will have to part with him.
He supposes it’s better now than later, because if they continue to grow together and then Jensen suddenly finds out Buddy isn’t rightfully his … well, things would crash and burn with far more gusto than it will now.
Still, that means facing Jared. The handsome vet. Who Jensen mistook for flirting. Who will probably not even remember Jensen, anyway. Hopefully.
So, maybe there’s no reason to worry.
Jensen’s mind rattles on anyway with that conversation replaying itself, inflections and motions amplified in ways Jensen frets over. Maybe Jared’s little tap at the bike was just to get his attention, because Jensen knows he was trailing off in thought far too much for average conversation. Or maybe Jensen’s voice was strained and uptight, like he felt for the whole shopping trip, and Jared will not even think of Jensen’s showing up at the clinic as anything other than good business. Another business card doing its job.
Buddy comes trailing into the kitchen, looking up at Jensen and meowing. His insistent tail flitting back and forth and the repeated meows forces Jensen to check the time and realize he owes Buddy his wet food.
The business card is put back on the counter, but Jensen makes sure it’s in a space that’s wide open, so he’ll see it whenever he passes through the room. Just in case he actually finds the nerve to make an appointment.
* * *
It takes just three days for Jensen to call. Buddy has left him three lovely hairballs in the living room. Thankfully, just one was on the rug and the other two were easier to clean on the hardwood floor. But Jensen is immediately concerned and sucks up all his nerves to dial the number.
Two days later, Jensen wakes with his heart immediately kicking up a notch at the thought of facing the vet this morning.
He stays in bed longer than normal, pushing it to the limit of how much time he has to get ready. It’s Buddy who gets him to move, jumping onto the bed, walking up Jensen’s legs to his stomach, and plopping down on Jensen’s chest in a heavy ball with accusing eyes staring at him. It’s a guilt-inducing stare, Jensen can feel it, so he pets Buddy a few times and grumbles. “Alright, fine, I’m getting up.”
Once they’re outside, Jensen tries to concentrate on getting to the clinic rather than what’s awaiting him there. Buddy walks alongside Jensen, happily prancing while Jensen pedals slow and steady, sometimes even just coasting with his feet padding along the ground as the cat keeps up a steady gait.
When they reach the clinic, Jensen locks up his bike to a light pole outside then stares at the signage above the door. His nerves make him unsteady on his feet but he has to take a few labored breaths before he walks in with Buddy trailing alongside him.
A metal clanking bell jangles at the doorway and Jensen tries to ignore how annoyingly loud it is. There’s no one in sight at the long wooden counter, painted pink and blue and orange in all sorts of intersecting lines. The office space spreads further back in an open format and there’s just one other area with a medium blue counter top and matching cabinetry, a few chairs, and a big metal table. A half wall separates the space from this front check-in area and a tall run of Plexiglas. In all, the place is at least half the size he’d imagined. Then again, Jensen has never had a pet and never had to take one to the vet, so he supposes anything is possible.
“Hi there!” rings out in a bubbly, happy voice, then nothing else comes when Jensen is face to face with the redhead from his building.
It’s been nearly two months since that first incident and a few weeks since their latest run-in, but he hasn’t forgotten how tense each interaction has been.
She obviously hasn’t either. “What’re you doing here?” she asks with a quick glance around the front area, as if she wishes there was someone else there to talk to.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, and he’s not sure if he means for this terrible moment or the ones they’ve shared before.
The look on her face makes it obvious she doesn’t know either.
Jensen clears his throat, checks on Buddy at his feet, then forces himself to face her again. “I have an appointment for 2 o’clock.”
“For yourself?” she asks with heavily laid snark.
Jensen manages to keep the scowl down and tries to recognize that while they’ve had a terrible first impression (and plenty of glaring passing moments coming or going from the building), this isn’t the time to deal with it. He has more pressing concerns, so he reaches down to pick Buddy up and set him on the counter. “For him.”
She instantly thaws and turns into a warm smiley mess of cooing at Buddy, fingers trailing all through his hair, stroking knuckles at his cheeks. “Oh, aren’t you a pretty doll? Look at your luscious locks, so pure and white and soft. You’re such a sweetheart. Look at you.”
This goes on for an uncomfortable amount of time. Jensen even thinks he may be growing a sliver of jealousy that this woman has transformed so quickly between staring down Jensen, Enemy Number 1, and now facing the cat.
His cat, he corrects. And maybe that is also helping him harbor ill feelings because he can now hear the rumbling, happy purrs coming from Buddy. Purrs Jensen always thought were specifically reserved for Jensen’s pets.
Even when Jensen fought against it for so long, he acknowledges that he’s let Buddy into his life. And maybe a little into his heart. But now Buddy’s giving it up like a cheap hook-up to Jensen’s apparent nemesis.
“Yeah, so the appointment’s for him,” Jensen says, trying to get her back on task. He also tries putting on his nicest voice, which is still a bit tight and awkward. It’s basically his default position after all. “He’s had some hairballs recently so I wanted to be sure nothing’s wrong.”
She checks the computer, tapping around on the keyboard a bit, then looks at him with narrowed eyes. “Jensen Ackles,” she says in a way that speaks of judgment. He imagines she’s going to do her best to remember that name for the rest of her life.
He nods and forces a small smile onto his face. “Yeah. That’s me.”
With a slow nod, she taps one key and walks away without another word. When she reaches the back open space, she turns around and rolls her eyes. “You coming or what?”
“Or what,” he says to himself. She may not be happy to see him, but he surely isn’t pleased he picked the one veterinarian where she works.
As if he wasn’t already strung up enough in the anxiety of having to face Jared again. As if he wasn’t already making a mountain out of this meager mole hill.
He forces himself to move, stepping around the corner and heading back to the sliding plexiglass door she shows off with a cheeky grin.
“Dr. Padalecki will be right with you.”
Jensen smiles a little in thanks. Once she’s gone to a hallway leading off further into the building, he sits in the chair in the corner and watches Buddy wander around the space, sniffing every square inch before glancing back at Jensen every few seconds. He wonders what the cat is thinking. If Buddy is terrified to be in a new space, a cold, open place without soft blankets or plush couch cushions to curl up on or cat trees to scratch.
He wonders if he should’ve brought the blanket with him, and when he sees the cages and carriers stacked up near the reception desk, he feels sorry for himself, and Buddy, that he didn’t bother getting one of those to carry the cat here. Jensen thought it would be okay when Buddy is so self-sufficient to get around and the clinic is just a few blocks from Jensen’s place.
Buddy had happily trotted beside him all the way here. And hell, Jensen thought after spending so many nights cooped up in his apartment, the cat would enjoy getting out for a long walk.
But maybe he has it all wrong. And maybe he has no idea whatsoever of how to take care of this cat. Maybe he’s failing in every single category and now the vet – Jared, he sighs – is going to call Jensen out on all the mistakes he’s making. Maybe the guy will take the cat away even if Jensen still thinks this isn’t quite the right thing in his life; it’s become so normal for him now that he can’t bear to think about parting ways.
He’s in the middle of all this worry when Jared walks in, and he’s immediately taken aback by so many things. Some he’d remembered: the height, bulk of his shoulders, lean length of his legs, not to mention the boyish smile with dimples creasing his cheeks, and glossy eyes that seem to cut right into Jensen’s chest with how they assess him as Jared steps up to the table now between them.
Others he didn’t expect, like the geeky image on display with a button-up, thin tie knotted at the neck, and the long white lab coat with Dr. J. Padalecki elegantly sewn across the left breast. The hair is still soft, but it’s combed back a bit, both sides pulled behind his ears, and it puts those high pink cheekbones on display in a way Jensen wasn’t prepared for.
Then Jared’s eyes widen, along with his mouth in a big, toothy smile, as he greets Jensen. “Hey, good to see you again.”
There’s a long moment of silence as they look at one another and Jensen is doing his best to not overthink every single movement of the vet’s face, but there’s something there that’s warm and welcoming, open and kind.
Jensen thinks he knows that look. The one that is pleasantly surprised to be facing something appealing, someone attractive. Jensen’s been on this end of that look plenty of times before. Thought he was when they first met, but then his mind twisted it all around when Jared handed over his business card. Or maybe it’s just good ole business sense to be friendly with patients and Jared could be happy Jensen decided to use that business card after all.
“So, how’ve you been?” Jared asks with a joyful smile. “How’s the cat?”
Clearing his throat, Jensen sits up in the chair and thinks through something important and profound to say. All that makes its way out of his mouth is, “You were right about the litter.”
Jared laughs, so loud and clear it’s not just put upon. He’s actually amused.
At or with Jensen, it’s not clear yet.
“Yeah, it’s a great idea, the lightweight stuff,” Jared says with a grin. “But really terrible execution.”
“It was terrible,” Jensen says with a huff. “The stuff never clumps and then the cat just makes a mess of it all and didn’t even want to use the box for a while and cleaning that up …” He takes a deep breath as he realizes he’s getting all worked up. “It’s just not what I signed up for.”
“I don’t think anyone signs up for that kind of mess.” There’s an easy nod and Jared starts watching Buddy slink around the space, sniffing every square inch of floor and cabinetry he walks by. “It could be worse, though.”
Jensen waits a bit for the worse to come and when Jared just smiles while taking in every move Buddy makes, Jensen finally clears his throat. “And how’s that?”
“If you had a dog, you’d have to get used to actually picking the stuff up.” Jared aims that easy, open, amused look right at Jensen to add on, “And I bet that’s far more than you were willing to sign up for.”
“I wasn’t really willing to sign up for this in the first place,” he admits, then pulls himself back because he thinks it makes him sound like an ungrateful pet owner. No matter how this whole thing came to be with Buddy, Jensen has conceded to the point that he let the cat stay the night … many nights, and has now committed himself to doing the best he can for Buddy. “I mean,” he starts, looking away from Jared to gather his thoughts. “I like him. It isn’t what I thought it would be, but it’s … it’s nice, actually. If I really let myself think about it.”
Jared grants him a soft look with his head tipped a little. “And that’s the best part of having a pet. Seeing how they make themselves a part of your life.”
“More like wedged himself into it,” Jensen mutters, but he lets out a small smile when Jared laughs.
“Yeah, they have a way of doing that. But you got yourself a gorgeous kitter here.” Jared carefully grabs hold of Buddy and brings him up onto the examination table, petting him as soon as his feet hit the metal top. Those big hands covering most of Buddy’s back with just one quick move of stroking through the fur.
Jensen thinks about how soft Buddy’s coat is when he does that, lets his fingers coast between the strands, and it’s an addictive, calming kind of effect on a particularly terrible day. “He’s gotten sick a few times this week, but otherwise he’s okay. I don’t know. Sometimes I worry if maybe he’s missing his real home.”
Jared glances up at that with wide eyes. “Did you steal him?” Then he chuckles a little. “You don’t really seem the type, though.”
“No, of course not. Just that … I met him out on the street so I want to make sure he doesn’t belong to someone else.”
“Before you get too attached, huh?”
Jensen doesn’t respond.
He doesn’t have to because Jared gets it with his sweet little head tilt. “You already are, huh?”
Jensen rubs at the back of his neck and turns a little towards the corner. “Yeah, I guess.”
“That’s really sweet.”
Jared’s voice is gentle, almost hidden, when he says it, and Jensen looks at him to gauge just how the vet is handling Buddy. The cat is liquid in Jared’s hands, spreading out on the table and rolling into every touch of those professional hands. Jensen may be, too, when Jared continues to look Jensen right in the eyes with a thoughtful, steady gaze.
And maybe Jensen was wrong all this time. Maybe Jared … Dr. Padalecki … has more interest here than just taking care of animals. Jensen isn’t foolish enough to ignore that there are plenty of men and women, alike, who find him attractive. But he is always highly uncomfortable under the awkward attention, especially when he is often such a failure at socializing, dating, or, hell, even just communicating when all of his anxieties get in the way.
Still, Jensen’s own suspicious mind twists it all in the other direction to insist Jared is just an attentive and highly thoughtful veterinarian, so of course he’s going to be asking Jensen all sorts of things to catalog Buddy’s situation.
With that weighing far more heavily on him, Jensen pulls into himself because it should be obvious that Jared is not interested, and this is certainly not the time or place to be showing it, not in the man’s place of business. That can’t be what’s happening here. No matter how often Jared shoots him generous smiles.
“Tell me about the getting sick part?” Jared asks, eyes still on Buddy as he pets along his side and even under to his belly with long strokes.
“It’s usually after eating.” Jensen closes his eyes against the memories of the sounds and movements of Buddy throwing up everything in his stomach. “He just moves to another room, cleans himself up, then suddenly … it all comes up.”
Jared weighs Buddy while asking questions about his weight, along with the food Buddy eats and Jensen immediately shrinks into himself for apparently making poor decisions. For bringing this onto Buddy, himself, because of his own mistakes.
There is no blame, just Jared suggesting smaller servings, focusing more on hard food if it continues, and offering some samples for sensitive stomachs. Even as Jensen refuses, Jared calls for Danneel to grab the cans.
When she comes in, she’s eyeing both Jensen and Jared, far too obviously for Jensen’s liking, yet Jared isn’t even watching her. The vet is focused on Buddy and Jensen in equal measure, which may be even worse with Danneel’s critical watch of the moment before she disappears to the back of the office again.
“It’s quite a small world, huh?” Jared asks while holding Buddy’s face in his hands. His fingers are gentle as he pulls at the edges of Buddy’s mouth, checking the teeth.
Jensen sucks in a breath because he’s not sure what Jared will find in Buddy’s mouth. If that’s causing issues when eating or something else Jensen has yet to know. Also, because he doesn’t know what Jared is talking about. “For what?”
“That we ran into each, and now I find out you’re the guy with the cat from Danneel’s,” the vet says with a grin.
Jensen can’t tell if it’s accusatory or not, but something in him feels defensive anyway. “The one with the cat?” he repeats.
“Yeah, at Danneel’s place.”
“I don’t know what that is.”
Jared gives him a coddling smile, complete with the purposefully slow movement of pointing over Jensen’s shoulder towards the desk at the front of the office. “Not a what, but a who.”
At that moment, the redhead from earlier comes into view and happily smiles and waves for the vet. Once her eyes meet Jensen’s, she narrows her eyes, flips her hair over the other shoulder, then goes back out of sight with a bunch of folders in hand.
“She’s …” Jensen trails off with dread filling his bones.
“Danneel, my assistant.”
“And my neighbor,” he fills in.
“Seems like,” Jared replies happily.
“Yeah. Great.”
“So, now we all know each other.” He grins and it should calm Jensen, but instead it just throws him into another loop of worry for what all they’ve said to one another about him. Like Danneel and Jared sit around at morning coffee while she dramatically reenacts their awful interactions. “I’m Dr. Padalecki. Happy to officially meet you and your sweet kiddo here.”
“I’m Jensen,” he replies, feeling his cheeks heat up with how stupid it is to re-introduce himself when Jared is already acknowledging they’ve met before.
It’s even worse when Jared grins while carefully running his hands down Buddy’s back and says, “I remember.”
When Jensen says no more, Jared gets more professionally to the matter at hand, scruffing around Buddy’s ears. “Okay, so what about this kitty? What else can you tell me about him?”
“Well, he’s a new cat.”
“He can’t be that new. He looks pretty big to me,” he jokes.
Jensen doesn’t laugh; he tightens his lips before drumming up his words. “He’s new to me. I just took him in a few months ago. But I wonder if he belongs to someone else?”
“Is he chipped?” the doctor asks, even as he now runs his fingers down along the back of the cat’s head and between the shoulders, just where Jensen had read they would put the microchip.
“I honestly don’t know.” Jensen glances away as he feels ashamed to not have that answer. As if he’s done something wrong for bringing Buddy into his home, potentially taking the cat away from some other family that can and does love him much better than Jensen ever could. “That’s part of why I brought him in. Aside from getting sick and all that.”
Running his hands along the cat’s body, Jared seems to be checking for other indications of … what, Jensen doesn’t know, but it all appears rather intense to be pressing fingers against the cat in all sorts of places.
“Is he okay?” Jensen asks then zips up when the doctor flashes him a crooked smile. “I mean, because you’re like …”
“Just doing a general check-up.”
“Oh, I didn’t schedule that.” He certainly isn’t prepared to pay for that. “I was just hoping to find out if – ”
“No worries. I’m just checking for anything obvious.” As Jared pokes and prods, he starts asking general questions like where Jensen found the cat, how long he’s had him, and what his name is.
The last part stalls Jensen because he’s sure that it’s a terrible name, even if he’s grown used to it. He thinks Buddy has, too.
Jared grins at Jensen as his fingers continue their path down over Buddy’s stomach. “It’s not like I asked the square root of pi.”
“Well, I don’t know that either,” Jensen replies, growing more and more confused by the examination.
“It’s 1.77245 – ”
“I call him Bud sometimes,” Jensen answers when he catches back up to the conversation. To make up for totally missing the point of the questions. “Or Buddy. I don’t know. It’s not official or anything.”
“You’ve been taking care of this cat for four months and you don’t have a real name?”
“I have a real name,” Jensen shoots back. It’s meant as a joke, but he can hear how harsh his voice is, so he mentally backs up and tries again. “I just settled on Buddy when nothing else came up.”
Jared makes a noise, even flashes Jensen a look like he’s sizing him up, perhaps trying to figure out what Jensen’s deal is. Jensen would prefer he figure out the cat’s deal instead of grilling him like he’s testifying in court or something. Then Jensen could run out of here and get back the comfortable safety of his apartment, where he doesn’t have to talk to people and second-guess every word said to a particularly handsome face.
At the very least, he’d prefer to go back to the generic small talk that felt a lot lighter than all this. Like maybe Jared has more interest in talking than just examining the cat and doing his job.
Frazzled by the awkward silence, Jensen opens up about how he doesn’t know cats, has never had one, and just assumes Buddy has been growing at a breakneck speed because he’s far older than Jensen had first assumed.
“He just keeps growing and growing,” Jensen sighs.
“Yeah, animals do that,” Jared jokes.
“But like, this is an insane amount of growing since I first met him? He used to be this small,” Jensen insists with his hands curled together to the general size of the kitten he first met nearly half a year ago. “There must be something wrong with him?”
Jared shakes his head immediately. “Not at all. At least not for his breed.”
Jensen has to prompt him with a drawn out, “And that is?”
“Maine Coon,” he announces happily. “Fun fact, it is the largest breed of domestic cat.”
Jensen doesn’t think that’s particularly fun. Just how big will this cat get?
“Also, why Maine is called Maine.”
Jensen blinks, unsure if Jared is joking. Yet the man’s face is set in concentration as he continues to assess Buddy, so maybe not. “They named the state after a cat?”
“Or the other way around.” Jared glances up for a quick wink then goes back to his assessment. His fingers push into Buddy’s belly again, checking and rechecking a few different spots, and Jensen waits for Buddy to bite the hell out of the vet’s hand because Jensen never gets to touch Buddy like that. No matter how soft the fur there is, so luxurious and so long, Buddy can only stand to be touched on his belly for a few quick seconds before going on the attack.
Jensen keeps all those thoughts to himself, along with anything else to change the subject. He’s suddenly spiraling into all sorts of wormholes of what Jared’s reaction would be to anything Jensen could offer. Jensen is well aware he’s failing at anything close to basic conversation.
In Jensen’s silence, Jared goes on to explain. “Maine Coons are actually native to the state of Maine, so I like to think it’s a chicken or the egg kind of thing.”
He still doesn’t want to say anything, but he does make a quick thoughtful noise.
The corner of Jared’s mouth tips up, like he’s pleased at the sound. Like it’s all the permission he needs to continue. “It’s actually the official state cat. In case you ever need to know for trivia night.” Jared seems done with his inspection, so he stands up straight and settles his hands on Buddy’s back, fingers rubbing gently along his spine. “And they can get pretty big, which is why this one is growing so fast. Right now, he’s about seven pounds. On average, they can get up to 18 pounds.” He laughs then suddenly stops and leans in, as if he’s sharing a great secret. “One was recorded at almost 40.”
Jensen is absolutely not as amused about this as Jared is. Buddy growing more, up to four times his currently already large frame … Jensen’s going to need a bigger apartment.
Jared makes an odd noise then goes for the most obvious view and has Buddy stand up on his hind legs while he pulls the tail straight up to inspect the back end. Jensen’s eyes widen and he wonders if there’s something else going on with that end of Buddy that he has to be concerned about.
When Jared’s done with that assessment, he pets along the cat’s back, patting softly at the bottom of its spine, and helping it to settle back down on the metal table. “Well, you ready for some juicy news?”
Jensen thinks no. Knows he’s not, but he supposes Jared’s voice is more upbeat than cancer or some other serious illness.
“First of all,” Jared says with a formal air about him, “This ain’t Buddy anymore.”
“Excuse me?” Jensen snaps with confusion. He takes a breath and adjusts his stress level and tone. “I mean, what? What does that even mean.”
“It’s a girl!” he announces with a grin. “So, you may want a new name. Budina ain’t so bad, I guess.”
“You guess?”
Jared shrugs. “You should see the names we hear.”
“You said first of all,” Jensen reminds him, already dreading what other news is about to hit. “What’s second?”
“The second thing is this here is likely a purebred Maine coon. Which is why she’s growing so big.”
“But he’ll stop soon.” Jensen mentally kicks himself, hearing the pronoun as soon as he’s said it. That’ll take some getting used to. “I mean, she. Right?”
Jared laughs brightly, and Jensen doesn’t even want to know what kind of moron he is now for asking that question.
“I’m guessing that means no?” Jensen asks.
“You’re absolutely correct. Cats can continue growing up to five years. That’s about when they reach their ultimate size. And Maine Coons … well, you’re in one for hell of a ride.”
“Great,” he grumbles with an eye roll.
“Yeah, it is pretty great.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Well, she’s a pretty one. Her coat is nice and clean. Really soft. Her eyes look good, and I didn’t feel anything on my first pass over her. But we can schedule a full check-up appointment and get her shots up to date. Also, you should have her spayed. Especially if you said she’s been living on the street before you got her.”
“Shots?” And get her spayed. Jesus, what kind of excess responsibility is this about to create for him? Not to mention, Jensen suddenly worries what that would do to him … her … the cat.
“Yeah, just regular vaccines. Kind of like with kids. To protect them against the big stuff, boost their immunity.”
His mind immediately shifts gears and wants to finish today’s checklist before adding more troubles to his life. “I think just the chip scan for now?”
“You sure?”
Jensen runs a hand over his head, brings it down to grab at the back of his neck as he thinks through all of this. He’s never been financially fruitful. He gets by with enough and can handle the costs of adding a cat to his daily routine but doing more with extra appointments and vaccinations, he’s certain it’ll put him back far further than he needs to be when he’s already working to eliminate major debt.
Jared puts a hand on Jensen’s elbow and squeezes, offering him a kind look. “It’s not that big of a deal right now.”
He surprises himself that he doesn’t flinch out of Jared’s grip. Instead, he settles in and finds himself enjoying the soft touch of the man’s hand now rubbing along his upper arm and aiming a well-intentioned gentle smile at him. It’s definitely easing him in the moment and he winds up mumbling, “I just don’t know …”
“I’d say a few of the shots are pretty imperative, especially if you keep letting her outside. But you can pace some out so it’s easier. On her and you.”
“Well, yeah, but if I’m at work and she likes to be outside, then what?”
“Then shots are the way to go to keep her safe.”
Jensen drops his head to stare at his feet, thinking through all of this, running numbers and schedules for when all this has to be done versus his bank accounts.
Jared, patient as all hell, carefully asks, “What are you thinking?”
“Of course, I want him to be safe … her. For her to be safe and healthy.”
Jensen looks up, eyes hopeful and waiting.
Jared doesn’t let him down, as he assures Jensen with a nod. “And she will be. This is the first step to you ensuring she’s good.”
Jensen feels an ounce or two of comfort with Jared’s thoughtful insistence, but then when Jared pulls out the scanner and checks around the cat’s neck, there’s a whole new flare of worry rising to the surface.
The procedure is simple; Jensen had read all about it and he can see right now just how simple it is. Yet it seems to draw out in slow motion as Jensen waits for any sort of reaction from the scanner or, ultimately, Jared’s face. He’s watching the vet closely, checking every minor twitch of an eyebrow or quirk of his lips. His heart races with even a tiny hint of a reaction and it goes double time when Jared looks right at him as the scanner continues its hunt.
Jensen equally hates and is thankful that the scanner isn’t picking up anything, because it means waiting even longer as Jared continues to hunt around. However, it also means Jensen can continue on with the hope that Buddy … the cat … she is rightfully his.
It also doesn’t hurt that he keeps staring at Jared and continues to appreciate the lines of his cheeks and jaw, the pink of his thin lips curling up with amusement that Jensen is so worried, and those eyes that are clear and open as they stare right back at Jensen.
Jared finishes his search and puts the scanner down on the table beside the cat. He stands up straight and bites his lower lip, glancing away from Jensen in an oddly nervous motion, and Jensen suddenly worries he did indeed find something and doesn't have the heart to tell Jensen.
“Well, good news, bad news,” Jared starts as he brushes his hand over the cat’s head, swiping down along its spine before doing it again.
Jensen gulps, stutters on his feet a bit before stepping forward to set his hands on the metal table. The tip of his index finger strokes just along the cat’s ear. “Okay, alright,” he gets out through the nerves, unable to say much more until he gets the blow.
“Good news is I don’t think there’s a chip.”
There’s a great breath of relief at that, until Jensen mutters, “But bad news?”
Jared smirks at him and scruffs the back of the cat’s head. “You and your boyfriend are stuck with this beautiful lady.”
Jensen finds himself grinning immediately, at Jared then at the cat, and quickly petting over her cheek and under her chin. There’s a small part of him that feels ridiculous to have such a quick overwhelming sense of relief, warm and soft all over, that she is officially his to keep.
A moment later he snaps back to attention and blinks at Jared. “Why did you say boyfriend?”
“I just …” Jared laughs to himself and then gets busy marking up some form on a clipboard at the counter. “Assumed, I guess.”
Jensen wonders if there was something specific in any of their interactions to make him think that, if Jensen perhaps gives off that vibe. In any other situation, he knows he wouldn’t give it a second thought and move on. For some reason, he’s stuck on it now, with Jared, and is suddenly worried about what the vet thinks of him. Especially about this.
Jared clears his throat and motions with the clipboard. “So, we can get you checked out up front with Danneel. In the meantime, there’s a schedule here for her shots and if you have any questions, you can call us here. Or use my number on the card. It’s my direct line so I can answer any concerns without having to schedule an appointment ”
When they’re at the front counter and silence falls over them, Jensen’s mind races over a hundred things to say. Like he enjoyed seeing Jared again or he’s thankful the vet took such great care with Buddy or even talk about scheduling the shots.
Jared must sense the awkwardness coming off Jensen in waves because he simply knocks on the counter top after sliding the file to Danneel to close out the appointment.
“No boyfriend,” Jensen spits out before he can think about it. He still isn’t sure why he cares, but he has a sudden impulse to set the record straight.
Especially with Jared, who stops in place and slowly turns back to face him.
Danneel is also slow to move towards him and watch whatever Jensen is going to say next.
It isn’t elegant, not by a mile. “It’s just me and the cat.”
With a small nod, Jared says, “I’m sorry to hear that,” yet his tiny smile says otherwise.
Suddenly, Jensen wants to clear all sorts of things up, so when his mouth opens, it all comes out. “You said you knew I was from Danneel’s building. Which probably means she told you we’ve had some not so great conversation. But it’s not her. It’s all me.” Jensen shifts to look at Danneel and frowns. “I’m sorry. I’m just not the best at talking to people. Which I’m sure is obvious from me right now. I guess that’s why there’s no boyfriend, either, because I just don’t really bother talking to many people if I don’t have to? I think I’ve talked more to you than most people in months.”
Jensen realizes that most of his admission was aimed right at Danneel. He scowls at himself then glances at Jared.
Somehow, despite the ridiculous runaround of Jensen’s thoughts, Jared continues to smile at him. In fact, the man looks to be growing more interest the more Jensen talks because his cheeks have gone a little pink and his eyes are warm as he watches Jensen go on.
Jensen laughs at himself, a little bit with worry and a lot because of nerves. “And I don’t know why I’m telling you all this, but I did. So I guess now we can all move on.”
As if sensing the stress, Buddy nudges Jensen’s leg then gets up on her hind legs to reach up to his thigh with a tiny meow. Jensen smiles at her, thankful for the distraction, and the comfort, and busies himself with thumbing at her cheeks.
Jared clears his throat, gathering the attention of both Jensen and Danneel. “Well, we, I … hope to see you again real soon.”
Jensen decides to move past all he’s said and nods with a firm, “Right, for the shots.”
“We’ll get you some paperwork,” Danneel offers, with a quick glance back at Jared. “Then you can figure it out.”
Jensen is filled with the want to defend himself and quickly explains, “It’s just the money part. Not like I’m super poor or anything.” He stops himself for a second to collect his thoughts and maybe dig himself out of this sad turn of conversation. “It’s just, not what I was expecting right now.”
“I know,” Jared says, even if Jensen thinks he’s just being nice. Especially when the vet steps up to the counter, comes beside Jensen and rubs his hand across Jensen’s back. “It’ll all work out somehow. We can help you out with that.” He clears throat and seems to ignore Danneel looking at them, even skirts away from Jensen’s confused gaze. “If anything else comes up, feel free to call. As I said, my cell number is also on the card. I’m always available.”
Jensen is again confused as to where the line is between professionalism and something more. Even when he’s likely blurred himself with the sudden blurting out about not having a boyfriend. While he surely would look forward to more, even if that were even a possibility – his mind quickly tells him it’s not, so he shoves that down. Even ignores how Jared pats his shoulder again and squeezes a little. Jared goes on to wish him well, even pauses like he’s going to say something else, then just nods and reminds him to get the shots.
Danneel isn’t quite friendly but she’s thawed out quite a bit from previous interactions. “You’re the guy from the pet store,” she half asks, half says. Her eyes seem to be intent on him, like she’s critiquing him. And maybe she is, given how she knows he met Jared before. Must’ve heard that from Jared, and Jensen isn’t sure what that really means. Now she can add this whole strange conversation to the mix and really wonder what the hell is wrong with Jensen.
He looks back to the exam area, but Jared’s already gone and Jensen thinks he shouldn’t feel so disappointed.
She reminds him about the being spayed part and reinforces why it’s so important, to help minimize the number of cats out on the street. “Hell, you found her on the streets,” she points out, “Probably for this very reason. Her mama wasn’t spaid and the cycle continues.”
“Is it hard? On the cat, I mean. Like what happens?”
Danneel smirks, seeming to dare him. “You want a blow by blow account of the whole procedure?”
“How about just the Cliff’s Notes?”
“It’s one of the most common procedures on cats,” Danneel assures him, surprisingly easy in her tone and her look. Like she’s trying to comfort him about the whole thing. It is jarring compared to all their other interactions, but he appreciates it anyway. “She’ll be put under and we monitor all the vitals, like breathing and heart rate. But I promise that it’s really routine and easy on her.”
“And after? What happens after the … procedure? Are there any problems then?”
“She’ll just have to come back to get the stitches taken out. Otherwise, she can return to business as usual.”
Danneel hands over a pamphlet about neutering pets and he runs his thumb over the pictures on the front, a big brown happy looking dog and slim orange cat. He thinks about how neither of these animals are like his cat, but they seem healthy and happy, all things considered.
Jensen presses his fingers around the pamphlet, crinkling the edges as he thinks about how this cat has become a bigger ordeal than he ever planned. And when he looks up at Danneel, still watching him, he thinks about the few times she’s talked to him at their building about Buddy … who he still needs a new name. Which will be hell after having no idea what to call her when he thought it was a male.
With a defeated nod, Jensen says, “So, you were just offering professional advice.”
“What do you mean?” she asks, a little tight and a lot confused.
“All those times when we ran into each other … you weren’t just harassing me about the cat, but actually trying to help.”
“Who would’ve thought?” Danneel smirks and tips her head to stare at him, like all the times before, but with a little less fire. “I wasn’t trying to be a bitch. I was just trying to help.”
“Yeah, I see that now,” Jensen concedes. “I’m sorry. For all of that before.” He folds the pamphlet and shoves it in his pocket just so he can be busy with anything aside from looking at her as he admits all of this. “I’m not used to dealing with people much. It’s very possible I’m not actually very good at it.”
“I can tell,” she chuckles. “But it’s kind of charming now that I know that. You’re just a bit more awkward than the average fella.”
A smile comes to his face before he can stop it. He nods in agreement and figures he’s said enough to ease this situation. There are thoughts about asking if he could talk to her more about the cat, or call here when other things come up … but he knows he’ll do neither. He’ll just stick to Google and seek out all his answers on the internet, without human interaction.
“Do you want to schedule your follow up?” she offers while tapping at the keyboard.
He hums and looks at the cat standing at his side. He definitely should, but he doesn’t want to deal with that right now. He thinks he’s already done enough with these awkward conversations, especially with Jared. Words he’d love to erase from memory, though he’s sure they’ll replay in his head ad nauseum.
Besides, he has more research to do before he feels comfortable with giving the cat up for the procedure or be needled for shots.
“I’ll get back to you on that.,” Jensen finally answers.
Danneel now has a bit of a frown going on and he hates that she feels sorry for him. Even if it seems like it’s an improvement to all previous attitudes they’ve exchanged. “Don’t wait too long. Especially if she remains an outdoor cat.”
“Yeah, okay,” he replies, intending to agree that he sees the problem. He thinks it may have come out with more attitude because she glares at him.
“I know where you live,” comes out like a threat, but it’s tempered with a smile when she comes around the counter and scrubs fingers against the side of the cat’s face. “And I know where to come find you, baby girl.”
Hearing girl is still alarming. He’ll have to get used to that.
Part 3
Part 1
Life as a delivery messenger puts him in front of all sorts of people, but he never has to talk to any of them. Not really. Ninety-nine percent of the time, customers just want their packages and all he has to do is read off the intended recipient and ask for a signature, then he’s on his way to the next stop. There is never any reason for conversation beyond that, and he rather enjoys it that way.
Office buildings are always bustling, offices noisy, security and administrative staff chatty at times, but he doesn’t have to invest any energy beyond the drop-off and getting the John Hancock. He gets to witness life in motion, but never has to participate.
It’s perfect.
And the cat may have disrupted his life, wedging himself into the general routine that keeps Jensen living stress free and relaxed, but there’s a new comfort in having someone waiting for him when he gets home from work. Or even if Jensen is gone for a few hours running his own errands, maybe even to the movies, the cat is there with his incessant meows, begging to know where in the hell Jensen has been. As if he’s gone off to war, left without a goodbye, and it’s been terrified to receive word from the government of Jensen’s demise.
“Hey, bud,” Jensen says when it approaches him as he rolls to a stop in front of his building.
The kitten, growing by the day and now about the size of a small adult cat, winds itself all around Jensen’s ankles with a drawn-out, insistent meowwww.
“Yeah, I know, bud,” he acknowledges with a few head rubs.
Jensen finds himself smiling at the kitten pushing itself into his hand and he thinks that he’s getting used to all this and maybe it should finally have a name. All he ever says is bud in lieu of any better ideas coming to mind.
“You like that?” Jensen continues petting along its cheek, warming up the more and more it head butts him for more attention.
Even out on the street with the noises of chirping birds and cars coming up and down the road, the purring is loud enough to be heard, constant and hard enough to be felt against his fingers, and Jensen’s cheeks suddenly hurt from smiling so hard.
“Yeah, you really like that, bud?”
Meowwww. It stops moving against him, standing up straight on its hind legs to look up at Jensen. Waiting.
He chuckles. “I bet you’re hungry, huh? Waiting for me to open up one of those cans you like so much?”
Meow.
“Yeah, the chicken with cheese is your fave. I know it, bud.”
Meowwwwwwwwwww.
On the snail-pace elevator ride upstairs, Jensen looks at the cat and shrugs. “You like bud? Is that a weird name?”
It ruts up against his shin with a chirpy meow, and Jensen supposes that’s as close to agreement as he’ll get.
“Alright, then we’ll go with Buddy. Don’t need you to be named after beer.” After a moment, he augments that with a roll of his eyes. “A cheap domestic one, at that.”
Just as every other week day, Jensen bikes down his block and sees Buddy standing in front of the building, waiting patiently as ever. The cat bounces on its paws when Jensen gets closer, then stretching up when Jensen leans down to pat its head. It butts up against Jensen’s palm, pushing harder for more pressure and meows when Jensen stands up straight to get off his bike and carry it up the stairs.
They walk in together, Buddy sliding in right along with Jensen before the door closes, and Jensen chuckles a little. “You have a good day?” Buddy rubs all along Jensen’s calf, nearly falling over with the power of his impact. “Get into any trouble, you dumbo?”
When Jensen looks up, he’s face to face with the red head. The one he keeps running into on his worst of days, who never gives him a break when he just doesn’t want to talk whatsoever and finds himself saying the wrong words.
She’s holding envelopes and closing her mailbox while eyeing Jensen, critically considering him and then giving a passing glance to Buddy.
“Not you,” Jensen insists. “I wasn’t talking to you.”
“I sure hope not,” she replies tightly.
“I was talking to the cat.”
She looks at the cat again then slowly brings her sights up to Jensen. “You’ve been letting all the strays into the building?”
“No!” he insists, the word loudly echoing in the small foyer. He clears his throat and lowers his voice. “I’m not letting all strays in. Just this one.” Her eyes narrow and he continues to explain. “He lives with me now. He’s kind of been my shadow for a while now so I decided to let him stay.”
She makes a noise, a kind of mad yet thoughtful sound, then tucks her mail under her arm and moves past him to leave. “Have you taken him to a vet yet?”
Jensen stumbles over that thought, suddenly worried that there is something wrong with Buddy that he can’t see. Something she can notice in just seconds. His mind also flashes back to the vet he met at the pet store … the incredibly gorgeous one he thought was flirting but really just handed over a business card. Fuck, now his mood drops with all these thoughts swirling together so he grumbles, “No, I didn’t really think – ”
“I can get you the number of a – ”
“I think we’re fine, thank you,” he says quickly, and maybe a little too forcefully. He wants to end this line of thinking immediately. “He’s been perfectly fine.”
“Yeah, perfectly fine living on the streets for some time and now you’re – ”
“And now I’m taking care of him.” He doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t wait for her to reply, just walks right to the elevator. He’s more than a little annoyed when Buddy takes his time to look at the woman before finally running to catch up.
On the ride up to his floor, the whole conversation runs through his head. A few times, certain lines repeating over and over, and he’s feeling sharp and defensive. As if he can’t manage to watch over a cat that obviously rather enjoys being with him. A cat that follows him in and out of the building without question and happily eats the food and treats Jensen spent a considerable amount of time researching once he got his wits about him as to all the requirements of cat life.
He doesn’t need some stranger, one with a particular chip on her shoulder, to tell him what he’s doing.
And now I’m taking care of him, he hears himself having said and that stalls him once he’s at his apartment door with keys in hand.
He didn’t expect any of this to happen to him. Didn’t anticipate bringing in a stray cat and racking up the hours of searching the internet for the best food, toys, litter, and cat beds to keep Buddy as happy as possible. He never in all his years ever thought he’d be in this position to care so much about what someone thinks about his role as caretaker.
He never imagined having to take care of someone other than himself.
It’s all so very confusing if he really thinks too much on it, to compare it to how he’s lived his life the last few years. Compared to the amount of time and energy he has always put into keeping himself together, keeping to himself to avoid confrontations like these with this woman.
He supposes that shifting his focus from tempering all of his emotions and anxieties into watching over Buddy has been a nice transfer of energy, really, and if that helps him get through the day with a little less stress weighing him down, then who is that lady to judge how he takes care of Buddy? He thinks he’s doing a rather fine job as is, and Buddy doesn’t seem to be complaining as he keeps rubbing against Jensen’s shin, winding in between Jensen’s feet, and finally stretching up to paw at Jensen’s thigh.
Jensen pats Buddy’s head with a small smile, appreciating how even the sudden wind up of emotions on the elevator is already dissipating when he looks at Buddy’s big green eyes and feels the silkiness of the fluffy hair under his fingers, white starting to mix in with new shades of grey.
So maybe Jensen isn’t the most emotional man in the world. And maybe it’s taken a long time to get to this point, to be patient and thoughtful for the cat. And maybe he could be doing more – oh how that scares him, though, if he thinks on it too long – but they both seem fairly happy, sharing each other’s burdens and lightening the load.
Yeah, he’s taking care of Buddy, and Buddy kind of takes care of Jensen in his own way. He thinks they’re both doing pretty okay with the arrangement.
Especially when Jensen is settling down in front of the TV with a beer in one hand and Buddy’s head resting against the other, softly purring with every touch even when Jensen’s starting to focus in on his shows. The rest of the night goes on like this, the only real differences come in Jensen getting another beer or Buddy shifting around to find more comfortable positions, but never straying away from Jensen’s reach.
Buddy is a large pile of furry cat at Jensen’s side, and Jensen finds himself smiling for the first time since he left for work early that morning.
Cleaning up one Saturday, Jensen unearths a business card. That business card, and he’s immediately transported to the nightmare pet store visit with the stubborn clerk. But that’s not what really stick hard in his mind; it’s Jared, the gorgeous guy he talked to after. The one Jensen thought there was some kind of connection forming with until the card made its appearance and Jensen realized it was all a rouse for some sly advertising of the animal clinic.
Jensen reads the card again and again, turns it over and fights a smirk at the cartoonish drawing of a cat and dog nudging noses.
It’s been weeks since Buddy became part of Jensen’s life, burrowing into his home and maybe his heart, and Jensen still hasn’t drummed up the courage to get him checked for a microchip. At this point, there’s worry built up that Jensen will indeed find out who Buddy really belongs to and will have to part with him.
He supposes it’s better now than later, because if they continue to grow together and then Jensen suddenly finds out Buddy isn’t rightfully his … well, things would crash and burn with far more gusto than it will now.
Still, that means facing Jared. The handsome vet. Who Jensen mistook for flirting. Who will probably not even remember Jensen, anyway. Hopefully.
So, maybe there’s no reason to worry.
Jensen’s mind rattles on anyway with that conversation replaying itself, inflections and motions amplified in ways Jensen frets over. Maybe Jared’s little tap at the bike was just to get his attention, because Jensen knows he was trailing off in thought far too much for average conversation. Or maybe Jensen’s voice was strained and uptight, like he felt for the whole shopping trip, and Jared will not even think of Jensen’s showing up at the clinic as anything other than good business. Another business card doing its job.
Buddy comes trailing into the kitchen, looking up at Jensen and meowing. His insistent tail flitting back and forth and the repeated meows forces Jensen to check the time and realize he owes Buddy his wet food.
The business card is put back on the counter, but Jensen makes sure it’s in a space that’s wide open, so he’ll see it whenever he passes through the room. Just in case he actually finds the nerve to make an appointment.
It takes just three days for Jensen to call. Buddy has left him three lovely hairballs in the living room. Thankfully, just one was on the rug and the other two were easier to clean on the hardwood floor. But Jensen is immediately concerned and sucks up all his nerves to dial the number.
Two days later, Jensen wakes with his heart immediately kicking up a notch at the thought of facing the vet this morning.
He stays in bed longer than normal, pushing it to the limit of how much time he has to get ready. It’s Buddy who gets him to move, jumping onto the bed, walking up Jensen’s legs to his stomach, and plopping down on Jensen’s chest in a heavy ball with accusing eyes staring at him. It’s a guilt-inducing stare, Jensen can feel it, so he pets Buddy a few times and grumbles. “Alright, fine, I’m getting up.”
Once they’re outside, Jensen tries to concentrate on getting to the clinic rather than what’s awaiting him there. Buddy walks alongside Jensen, happily prancing while Jensen pedals slow and steady, sometimes even just coasting with his feet padding along the ground as the cat keeps up a steady gait.
When they reach the clinic, Jensen locks up his bike to a light pole outside then stares at the signage above the door. His nerves make him unsteady on his feet but he has to take a few labored breaths before he walks in with Buddy trailing alongside him.
A metal clanking bell jangles at the doorway and Jensen tries to ignore how annoyingly loud it is. There’s no one in sight at the long wooden counter, painted pink and blue and orange in all sorts of intersecting lines. The office space spreads further back in an open format and there’s just one other area with a medium blue counter top and matching cabinetry, a few chairs, and a big metal table. A half wall separates the space from this front check-in area and a tall run of Plexiglas. In all, the place is at least half the size he’d imagined. Then again, Jensen has never had a pet and never had to take one to the vet, so he supposes anything is possible.
“Hi there!” rings out in a bubbly, happy voice, then nothing else comes when Jensen is face to face with the redhead from his building.
It’s been nearly two months since that first incident and a few weeks since their latest run-in, but he hasn’t forgotten how tense each interaction has been.
She obviously hasn’t either. “What’re you doing here?” she asks with a quick glance around the front area, as if she wishes there was someone else there to talk to.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, and he’s not sure if he means for this terrible moment or the ones they’ve shared before.
The look on her face makes it obvious she doesn’t know either.
Jensen clears his throat, checks on Buddy at his feet, then forces himself to face her again. “I have an appointment for 2 o’clock.”
“For yourself?” she asks with heavily laid snark.
Jensen manages to keep the scowl down and tries to recognize that while they’ve had a terrible first impression (and plenty of glaring passing moments coming or going from the building), this isn’t the time to deal with it. He has more pressing concerns, so he reaches down to pick Buddy up and set him on the counter. “For him.”
She instantly thaws and turns into a warm smiley mess of cooing at Buddy, fingers trailing all through his hair, stroking knuckles at his cheeks. “Oh, aren’t you a pretty doll? Look at your luscious locks, so pure and white and soft. You’re such a sweetheart. Look at you.”
This goes on for an uncomfortable amount of time. Jensen even thinks he may be growing a sliver of jealousy that this woman has transformed so quickly between staring down Jensen, Enemy Number 1, and now facing the cat.
His cat, he corrects. And maybe that is also helping him harbor ill feelings because he can now hear the rumbling, happy purrs coming from Buddy. Purrs Jensen always thought were specifically reserved for Jensen’s pets.
Even when Jensen fought against it for so long, he acknowledges that he’s let Buddy into his life. And maybe a little into his heart. But now Buddy’s giving it up like a cheap hook-up to Jensen’s apparent nemesis.
“Yeah, so the appointment’s for him,” Jensen says, trying to get her back on task. He also tries putting on his nicest voice, which is still a bit tight and awkward. It’s basically his default position after all. “He’s had some hairballs recently so I wanted to be sure nothing’s wrong.”
She checks the computer, tapping around on the keyboard a bit, then looks at him with narrowed eyes. “Jensen Ackles,” she says in a way that speaks of judgment. He imagines she’s going to do her best to remember that name for the rest of her life.
He nods and forces a small smile onto his face. “Yeah. That’s me.”
With a slow nod, she taps one key and walks away without another word. When she reaches the back open space, she turns around and rolls her eyes. “You coming or what?”
“Or what,” he says to himself. She may not be happy to see him, but he surely isn’t pleased he picked the one veterinarian where she works.
As if he wasn’t already strung up enough in the anxiety of having to face Jared again. As if he wasn’t already making a mountain out of this meager mole hill.
He forces himself to move, stepping around the corner and heading back to the sliding plexiglass door she shows off with a cheeky grin.
“Dr. Padalecki will be right with you.”
Jensen smiles a little in thanks. Once she’s gone to a hallway leading off further into the building, he sits in the chair in the corner and watches Buddy wander around the space, sniffing every square inch before glancing back at Jensen every few seconds. He wonders what the cat is thinking. If Buddy is terrified to be in a new space, a cold, open place without soft blankets or plush couch cushions to curl up on or cat trees to scratch.
He wonders if he should’ve brought the blanket with him, and when he sees the cages and carriers stacked up near the reception desk, he feels sorry for himself, and Buddy, that he didn’t bother getting one of those to carry the cat here. Jensen thought it would be okay when Buddy is so self-sufficient to get around and the clinic is just a few blocks from Jensen’s place.
Buddy had happily trotted beside him all the way here. And hell, Jensen thought after spending so many nights cooped up in his apartment, the cat would enjoy getting out for a long walk.
But maybe he has it all wrong. And maybe he has no idea whatsoever of how to take care of this cat. Maybe he’s failing in every single category and now the vet – Jared, he sighs – is going to call Jensen out on all the mistakes he’s making. Maybe the guy will take the cat away even if Jensen still thinks this isn’t quite the right thing in his life; it’s become so normal for him now that he can’t bear to think about parting ways.
He’s in the middle of all this worry when Jared walks in, and he’s immediately taken aback by so many things. Some he’d remembered: the height, bulk of his shoulders, lean length of his legs, not to mention the boyish smile with dimples creasing his cheeks, and glossy eyes that seem to cut right into Jensen’s chest with how they assess him as Jared steps up to the table now between them.
Others he didn’t expect, like the geeky image on display with a button-up, thin tie knotted at the neck, and the long white lab coat with Dr. J. Padalecki elegantly sewn across the left breast. The hair is still soft, but it’s combed back a bit, both sides pulled behind his ears, and it puts those high pink cheekbones on display in a way Jensen wasn’t prepared for.
Then Jared’s eyes widen, along with his mouth in a big, toothy smile, as he greets Jensen. “Hey, good to see you again.”
There’s a long moment of silence as they look at one another and Jensen is doing his best to not overthink every single movement of the vet’s face, but there’s something there that’s warm and welcoming, open and kind.
Jensen thinks he knows that look. The one that is pleasantly surprised to be facing something appealing, someone attractive. Jensen’s been on this end of that look plenty of times before. Thought he was when they first met, but then his mind twisted it all around when Jared handed over his business card. Or maybe it’s just good ole business sense to be friendly with patients and Jared could be happy Jensen decided to use that business card after all.
“So, how’ve you been?” Jared asks with a joyful smile. “How’s the cat?”
Clearing his throat, Jensen sits up in the chair and thinks through something important and profound to say. All that makes its way out of his mouth is, “You were right about the litter.”
Jared laughs, so loud and clear it’s not just put upon. He’s actually amused.
At or with Jensen, it’s not clear yet.
“Yeah, it’s a great idea, the lightweight stuff,” Jared says with a grin. “But really terrible execution.”
“It was terrible,” Jensen says with a huff. “The stuff never clumps and then the cat just makes a mess of it all and didn’t even want to use the box for a while and cleaning that up …” He takes a deep breath as he realizes he’s getting all worked up. “It’s just not what I signed up for.”
“I don’t think anyone signs up for that kind of mess.” There’s an easy nod and Jared starts watching Buddy slink around the space, sniffing every square inch of floor and cabinetry he walks by. “It could be worse, though.”
Jensen waits a bit for the worse to come and when Jared just smiles while taking in every move Buddy makes, Jensen finally clears his throat. “And how’s that?”
“If you had a dog, you’d have to get used to actually picking the stuff up.” Jared aims that easy, open, amused look right at Jensen to add on, “And I bet that’s far more than you were willing to sign up for.”
“I wasn’t really willing to sign up for this in the first place,” he admits, then pulls himself back because he thinks it makes him sound like an ungrateful pet owner. No matter how this whole thing came to be with Buddy, Jensen has conceded to the point that he let the cat stay the night … many nights, and has now committed himself to doing the best he can for Buddy. “I mean,” he starts, looking away from Jared to gather his thoughts. “I like him. It isn’t what I thought it would be, but it’s … it’s nice, actually. If I really let myself think about it.”
Jared grants him a soft look with his head tipped a little. “And that’s the best part of having a pet. Seeing how they make themselves a part of your life.”
“More like wedged himself into it,” Jensen mutters, but he lets out a small smile when Jared laughs.
“Yeah, they have a way of doing that. But you got yourself a gorgeous kitter here.” Jared carefully grabs hold of Buddy and brings him up onto the examination table, petting him as soon as his feet hit the metal top. Those big hands covering most of Buddy’s back with just one quick move of stroking through the fur.
Jensen thinks about how soft Buddy’s coat is when he does that, lets his fingers coast between the strands, and it’s an addictive, calming kind of effect on a particularly terrible day. “He’s gotten sick a few times this week, but otherwise he’s okay. I don’t know. Sometimes I worry if maybe he’s missing his real home.”
Jared glances up at that with wide eyes. “Did you steal him?” Then he chuckles a little. “You don’t really seem the type, though.”
“No, of course not. Just that … I met him out on the street so I want to make sure he doesn’t belong to someone else.”
“Before you get too attached, huh?”
Jensen doesn’t respond.
He doesn’t have to because Jared gets it with his sweet little head tilt. “You already are, huh?”
Jensen rubs at the back of his neck and turns a little towards the corner. “Yeah, I guess.”
“That’s really sweet.”
Jared’s voice is gentle, almost hidden, when he says it, and Jensen looks at him to gauge just how the vet is handling Buddy. The cat is liquid in Jared’s hands, spreading out on the table and rolling into every touch of those professional hands. Jensen may be, too, when Jared continues to look Jensen right in the eyes with a thoughtful, steady gaze.
And maybe Jensen was wrong all this time. Maybe Jared … Dr. Padalecki … has more interest here than just taking care of animals. Jensen isn’t foolish enough to ignore that there are plenty of men and women, alike, who find him attractive. But he is always highly uncomfortable under the awkward attention, especially when he is often such a failure at socializing, dating, or, hell, even just communicating when all of his anxieties get in the way.
Still, Jensen’s own suspicious mind twists it all in the other direction to insist Jared is just an attentive and highly thoughtful veterinarian, so of course he’s going to be asking Jensen all sorts of things to catalog Buddy’s situation.
With that weighing far more heavily on him, Jensen pulls into himself because it should be obvious that Jared is not interested, and this is certainly not the time or place to be showing it, not in the man’s place of business. That can’t be what’s happening here. No matter how often Jared shoots him generous smiles.
“Tell me about the getting sick part?” Jared asks, eyes still on Buddy as he pets along his side and even under to his belly with long strokes.
“It’s usually after eating.” Jensen closes his eyes against the memories of the sounds and movements of Buddy throwing up everything in his stomach. “He just moves to another room, cleans himself up, then suddenly … it all comes up.”
Jared weighs Buddy while asking questions about his weight, along with the food Buddy eats and Jensen immediately shrinks into himself for apparently making poor decisions. For bringing this onto Buddy, himself, because of his own mistakes.
There is no blame, just Jared suggesting smaller servings, focusing more on hard food if it continues, and offering some samples for sensitive stomachs. Even as Jensen refuses, Jared calls for Danneel to grab the cans.
When she comes in, she’s eyeing both Jensen and Jared, far too obviously for Jensen’s liking, yet Jared isn’t even watching her. The vet is focused on Buddy and Jensen in equal measure, which may be even worse with Danneel’s critical watch of the moment before she disappears to the back of the office again.
“It’s quite a small world, huh?” Jared asks while holding Buddy’s face in his hands. His fingers are gentle as he pulls at the edges of Buddy’s mouth, checking the teeth.
Jensen sucks in a breath because he’s not sure what Jared will find in Buddy’s mouth. If that’s causing issues when eating or something else Jensen has yet to know. Also, because he doesn’t know what Jared is talking about. “For what?”
“That we ran into each, and now I find out you’re the guy with the cat from Danneel’s,” the vet says with a grin.
Jensen can’t tell if it’s accusatory or not, but something in him feels defensive anyway. “The one with the cat?” he repeats.
“Yeah, at Danneel’s place.”
“I don’t know what that is.”
Jared gives him a coddling smile, complete with the purposefully slow movement of pointing over Jensen’s shoulder towards the desk at the front of the office. “Not a what, but a who.”
At that moment, the redhead from earlier comes into view and happily smiles and waves for the vet. Once her eyes meet Jensen’s, she narrows her eyes, flips her hair over the other shoulder, then goes back out of sight with a bunch of folders in hand.
“She’s …” Jensen trails off with dread filling his bones.
“Danneel, my assistant.”
“And my neighbor,” he fills in.
“Seems like,” Jared replies happily.
“Yeah. Great.”
“So, now we all know each other.” He grins and it should calm Jensen, but instead it just throws him into another loop of worry for what all they’ve said to one another about him. Like Danneel and Jared sit around at morning coffee while she dramatically reenacts their awful interactions. “I’m Dr. Padalecki. Happy to officially meet you and your sweet kiddo here.”
“I’m Jensen,” he replies, feeling his cheeks heat up with how stupid it is to re-introduce himself when Jared is already acknowledging they’ve met before.
It’s even worse when Jared grins while carefully running his hands down Buddy’s back and says, “I remember.”
When Jensen says no more, Jared gets more professionally to the matter at hand, scruffing around Buddy’s ears. “Okay, so what about this kitty? What else can you tell me about him?”
“Well, he’s a new cat.”
“He can’t be that new. He looks pretty big to me,” he jokes.
Jensen doesn’t laugh; he tightens his lips before drumming up his words. “He’s new to me. I just took him in a few months ago. But I wonder if he belongs to someone else?”
“Is he chipped?” the doctor asks, even as he now runs his fingers down along the back of the cat’s head and between the shoulders, just where Jensen had read they would put the microchip.
“I honestly don’t know.” Jensen glances away as he feels ashamed to not have that answer. As if he’s done something wrong for bringing Buddy into his home, potentially taking the cat away from some other family that can and does love him much better than Jensen ever could. “That’s part of why I brought him in. Aside from getting sick and all that.”
Running his hands along the cat’s body, Jared seems to be checking for other indications of … what, Jensen doesn’t know, but it all appears rather intense to be pressing fingers against the cat in all sorts of places.
“Is he okay?” Jensen asks then zips up when the doctor flashes him a crooked smile. “I mean, because you’re like …”
“Just doing a general check-up.”
“Oh, I didn’t schedule that.” He certainly isn’t prepared to pay for that. “I was just hoping to find out if – ”
“No worries. I’m just checking for anything obvious.” As Jared pokes and prods, he starts asking general questions like where Jensen found the cat, how long he’s had him, and what his name is.
The last part stalls Jensen because he’s sure that it’s a terrible name, even if he’s grown used to it. He thinks Buddy has, too.
Jared grins at Jensen as his fingers continue their path down over Buddy’s stomach. “It’s not like I asked the square root of pi.”
“Well, I don’t know that either,” Jensen replies, growing more and more confused by the examination.
“It’s 1.77245 – ”
“I call him Bud sometimes,” Jensen answers when he catches back up to the conversation. To make up for totally missing the point of the questions. “Or Buddy. I don’t know. It’s not official or anything.”
“You’ve been taking care of this cat for four months and you don’t have a real name?”
“I have a real name,” Jensen shoots back. It’s meant as a joke, but he can hear how harsh his voice is, so he mentally backs up and tries again. “I just settled on Buddy when nothing else came up.”
Jared makes a noise, even flashes Jensen a look like he’s sizing him up, perhaps trying to figure out what Jensen’s deal is. Jensen would prefer he figure out the cat’s deal instead of grilling him like he’s testifying in court or something. Then Jensen could run out of here and get back the comfortable safety of his apartment, where he doesn’t have to talk to people and second-guess every word said to a particularly handsome face.
At the very least, he’d prefer to go back to the generic small talk that felt a lot lighter than all this. Like maybe Jared has more interest in talking than just examining the cat and doing his job.
Frazzled by the awkward silence, Jensen opens up about how he doesn’t know cats, has never had one, and just assumes Buddy has been growing at a breakneck speed because he’s far older than Jensen had first assumed.
“He just keeps growing and growing,” Jensen sighs.
“Yeah, animals do that,” Jared jokes.
“But like, this is an insane amount of growing since I first met him? He used to be this small,” Jensen insists with his hands curled together to the general size of the kitten he first met nearly half a year ago. “There must be something wrong with him?”
Jared shakes his head immediately. “Not at all. At least not for his breed.”
Jensen has to prompt him with a drawn out, “And that is?”
“Maine Coon,” he announces happily. “Fun fact, it is the largest breed of domestic cat.”
Jensen doesn’t think that’s particularly fun. Just how big will this cat get?
“Also, why Maine is called Maine.”
Jensen blinks, unsure if Jared is joking. Yet the man’s face is set in concentration as he continues to assess Buddy, so maybe not. “They named the state after a cat?”
“Or the other way around.” Jared glances up for a quick wink then goes back to his assessment. His fingers push into Buddy’s belly again, checking and rechecking a few different spots, and Jensen waits for Buddy to bite the hell out of the vet’s hand because Jensen never gets to touch Buddy like that. No matter how soft the fur there is, so luxurious and so long, Buddy can only stand to be touched on his belly for a few quick seconds before going on the attack.
Jensen keeps all those thoughts to himself, along with anything else to change the subject. He’s suddenly spiraling into all sorts of wormholes of what Jared’s reaction would be to anything Jensen could offer. Jensen is well aware he’s failing at anything close to basic conversation.
In Jensen’s silence, Jared goes on to explain. “Maine Coons are actually native to the state of Maine, so I like to think it’s a chicken or the egg kind of thing.”
He still doesn’t want to say anything, but he does make a quick thoughtful noise.
The corner of Jared’s mouth tips up, like he’s pleased at the sound. Like it’s all the permission he needs to continue. “It’s actually the official state cat. In case you ever need to know for trivia night.” Jared seems done with his inspection, so he stands up straight and settles his hands on Buddy’s back, fingers rubbing gently along his spine. “And they can get pretty big, which is why this one is growing so fast. Right now, he’s about seven pounds. On average, they can get up to 18 pounds.” He laughs then suddenly stops and leans in, as if he’s sharing a great secret. “One was recorded at almost 40.”
Jensen is absolutely not as amused about this as Jared is. Buddy growing more, up to four times his currently already large frame … Jensen’s going to need a bigger apartment.
Jared makes an odd noise then goes for the most obvious view and has Buddy stand up on his hind legs while he pulls the tail straight up to inspect the back end. Jensen’s eyes widen and he wonders if there’s something else going on with that end of Buddy that he has to be concerned about.
When Jared’s done with that assessment, he pets along the cat’s back, patting softly at the bottom of its spine, and helping it to settle back down on the metal table. “Well, you ready for some juicy news?”
Jensen thinks no. Knows he’s not, but he supposes Jared’s voice is more upbeat than cancer or some other serious illness.
“First of all,” Jared says with a formal air about him, “This ain’t Buddy anymore.”
“Excuse me?” Jensen snaps with confusion. He takes a breath and adjusts his stress level and tone. “I mean, what? What does that even mean.”
“It’s a girl!” he announces with a grin. “So, you may want a new name. Budina ain’t so bad, I guess.”
“You guess?”
Jared shrugs. “You should see the names we hear.”
“You said first of all,” Jensen reminds him, already dreading what other news is about to hit. “What’s second?”
“The second thing is this here is likely a purebred Maine coon. Which is why she’s growing so big.”
“But he’ll stop soon.” Jensen mentally kicks himself, hearing the pronoun as soon as he’s said it. That’ll take some getting used to. “I mean, she. Right?”
Jared laughs brightly, and Jensen doesn’t even want to know what kind of moron he is now for asking that question.
“I’m guessing that means no?” Jensen asks.
“You’re absolutely correct. Cats can continue growing up to five years. That’s about when they reach their ultimate size. And Maine Coons … well, you’re in one for hell of a ride.”
“Great,” he grumbles with an eye roll.
“Yeah, it is pretty great.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Well, she’s a pretty one. Her coat is nice and clean. Really soft. Her eyes look good, and I didn’t feel anything on my first pass over her. But we can schedule a full check-up appointment and get her shots up to date. Also, you should have her spayed. Especially if you said she’s been living on the street before you got her.”
“Shots?” And get her spayed. Jesus, what kind of excess responsibility is this about to create for him? Not to mention, Jensen suddenly worries what that would do to him … her … the cat.
“Yeah, just regular vaccines. Kind of like with kids. To protect them against the big stuff, boost their immunity.”
His mind immediately shifts gears and wants to finish today’s checklist before adding more troubles to his life. “I think just the chip scan for now?”
“You sure?”
Jensen runs a hand over his head, brings it down to grab at the back of his neck as he thinks through all of this. He’s never been financially fruitful. He gets by with enough and can handle the costs of adding a cat to his daily routine but doing more with extra appointments and vaccinations, he’s certain it’ll put him back far further than he needs to be when he’s already working to eliminate major debt.
Jared puts a hand on Jensen’s elbow and squeezes, offering him a kind look. “It’s not that big of a deal right now.”
He surprises himself that he doesn’t flinch out of Jared’s grip. Instead, he settles in and finds himself enjoying the soft touch of the man’s hand now rubbing along his upper arm and aiming a well-intentioned gentle smile at him. It’s definitely easing him in the moment and he winds up mumbling, “I just don’t know …”
“I’d say a few of the shots are pretty imperative, especially if you keep letting her outside. But you can pace some out so it’s easier. On her and you.”
“Well, yeah, but if I’m at work and she likes to be outside, then what?”
“Then shots are the way to go to keep her safe.”
Jensen drops his head to stare at his feet, thinking through all of this, running numbers and schedules for when all this has to be done versus his bank accounts.
Jared, patient as all hell, carefully asks, “What are you thinking?”
“Of course, I want him to be safe … her. For her to be safe and healthy.”
Jensen looks up, eyes hopeful and waiting.
Jared doesn’t let him down, as he assures Jensen with a nod. “And she will be. This is the first step to you ensuring she’s good.”
Jensen feels an ounce or two of comfort with Jared’s thoughtful insistence, but then when Jared pulls out the scanner and checks around the cat’s neck, there’s a whole new flare of worry rising to the surface.
The procedure is simple; Jensen had read all about it and he can see right now just how simple it is. Yet it seems to draw out in slow motion as Jensen waits for any sort of reaction from the scanner or, ultimately, Jared’s face. He’s watching the vet closely, checking every minor twitch of an eyebrow or quirk of his lips. His heart races with even a tiny hint of a reaction and it goes double time when Jared looks right at him as the scanner continues its hunt.
Jensen equally hates and is thankful that the scanner isn’t picking up anything, because it means waiting even longer as Jared continues to hunt around. However, it also means Jensen can continue on with the hope that Buddy … the cat … she is rightfully his.
It also doesn’t hurt that he keeps staring at Jared and continues to appreciate the lines of his cheeks and jaw, the pink of his thin lips curling up with amusement that Jensen is so worried, and those eyes that are clear and open as they stare right back at Jensen.
Jared finishes his search and puts the scanner down on the table beside the cat. He stands up straight and bites his lower lip, glancing away from Jensen in an oddly nervous motion, and Jensen suddenly worries he did indeed find something and doesn't have the heart to tell Jensen.
“Well, good news, bad news,” Jared starts as he brushes his hand over the cat’s head, swiping down along its spine before doing it again.
Jensen gulps, stutters on his feet a bit before stepping forward to set his hands on the metal table. The tip of his index finger strokes just along the cat’s ear. “Okay, alright,” he gets out through the nerves, unable to say much more until he gets the blow.
“Good news is I don’t think there’s a chip.”
There’s a great breath of relief at that, until Jensen mutters, “But bad news?”
Jared smirks at him and scruffs the back of the cat’s head. “You and your boyfriend are stuck with this beautiful lady.”
Jensen finds himself grinning immediately, at Jared then at the cat, and quickly petting over her cheek and under her chin. There’s a small part of him that feels ridiculous to have such a quick overwhelming sense of relief, warm and soft all over, that she is officially his to keep.
A moment later he snaps back to attention and blinks at Jared. “Why did you say boyfriend?”
“I just …” Jared laughs to himself and then gets busy marking up some form on a clipboard at the counter. “Assumed, I guess.”
Jensen wonders if there was something specific in any of their interactions to make him think that, if Jensen perhaps gives off that vibe. In any other situation, he knows he wouldn’t give it a second thought and move on. For some reason, he’s stuck on it now, with Jared, and is suddenly worried about what the vet thinks of him. Especially about this.
Jared clears his throat and motions with the clipboard. “So, we can get you checked out up front with Danneel. In the meantime, there’s a schedule here for her shots and if you have any questions, you can call us here. Or use my number on the card. It’s my direct line so I can answer any concerns without having to schedule an appointment ”
When they’re at the front counter and silence falls over them, Jensen’s mind races over a hundred things to say. Like he enjoyed seeing Jared again or he’s thankful the vet took such great care with Buddy or even talk about scheduling the shots.
Jared must sense the awkwardness coming off Jensen in waves because he simply knocks on the counter top after sliding the file to Danneel to close out the appointment.
“No boyfriend,” Jensen spits out before he can think about it. He still isn’t sure why he cares, but he has a sudden impulse to set the record straight.
Especially with Jared, who stops in place and slowly turns back to face him.
Danneel is also slow to move towards him and watch whatever Jensen is going to say next.
It isn’t elegant, not by a mile. “It’s just me and the cat.”
With a small nod, Jared says, “I’m sorry to hear that,” yet his tiny smile says otherwise.
Suddenly, Jensen wants to clear all sorts of things up, so when his mouth opens, it all comes out. “You said you knew I was from Danneel’s building. Which probably means she told you we’ve had some not so great conversation. But it’s not her. It’s all me.” Jensen shifts to look at Danneel and frowns. “I’m sorry. I’m just not the best at talking to people. Which I’m sure is obvious from me right now. I guess that’s why there’s no boyfriend, either, because I just don’t really bother talking to many people if I don’t have to? I think I’ve talked more to you than most people in months.”
Jensen realizes that most of his admission was aimed right at Danneel. He scowls at himself then glances at Jared.
Somehow, despite the ridiculous runaround of Jensen’s thoughts, Jared continues to smile at him. In fact, the man looks to be growing more interest the more Jensen talks because his cheeks have gone a little pink and his eyes are warm as he watches Jensen go on.
Jensen laughs at himself, a little bit with worry and a lot because of nerves. “And I don’t know why I’m telling you all this, but I did. So I guess now we can all move on.”
As if sensing the stress, Buddy nudges Jensen’s leg then gets up on her hind legs to reach up to his thigh with a tiny meow. Jensen smiles at her, thankful for the distraction, and the comfort, and busies himself with thumbing at her cheeks.
Jared clears his throat, gathering the attention of both Jensen and Danneel. “Well, we, I … hope to see you again real soon.”
Jensen decides to move past all he’s said and nods with a firm, “Right, for the shots.”
“We’ll get you some paperwork,” Danneel offers, with a quick glance back at Jared. “Then you can figure it out.”
Jensen is filled with the want to defend himself and quickly explains, “It’s just the money part. Not like I’m super poor or anything.” He stops himself for a second to collect his thoughts and maybe dig himself out of this sad turn of conversation. “It’s just, not what I was expecting right now.”
“I know,” Jared says, even if Jensen thinks he’s just being nice. Especially when the vet steps up to the counter, comes beside Jensen and rubs his hand across Jensen’s back. “It’ll all work out somehow. We can help you out with that.” He clears throat and seems to ignore Danneel looking at them, even skirts away from Jensen’s confused gaze. “If anything else comes up, feel free to call. As I said, my cell number is also on the card. I’m always available.”
Jensen is again confused as to where the line is between professionalism and something more. Even when he’s likely blurred himself with the sudden blurting out about not having a boyfriend. While he surely would look forward to more, even if that were even a possibility – his mind quickly tells him it’s not, so he shoves that down. Even ignores how Jared pats his shoulder again and squeezes a little. Jared goes on to wish him well, even pauses like he’s going to say something else, then just nods and reminds him to get the shots.
Danneel isn’t quite friendly but she’s thawed out quite a bit from previous interactions. “You’re the guy from the pet store,” she half asks, half says. Her eyes seem to be intent on him, like she’s critiquing him. And maybe she is, given how she knows he met Jared before. Must’ve heard that from Jared, and Jensen isn’t sure what that really means. Now she can add this whole strange conversation to the mix and really wonder what the hell is wrong with Jensen.
He looks back to the exam area, but Jared’s already gone and Jensen thinks he shouldn’t feel so disappointed.
She reminds him about the being spayed part and reinforces why it’s so important, to help minimize the number of cats out on the street. “Hell, you found her on the streets,” she points out, “Probably for this very reason. Her mama wasn’t spaid and the cycle continues.”
“Is it hard? On the cat, I mean. Like what happens?”
Danneel smirks, seeming to dare him. “You want a blow by blow account of the whole procedure?”
“How about just the Cliff’s Notes?”
“It’s one of the most common procedures on cats,” Danneel assures him, surprisingly easy in her tone and her look. Like she’s trying to comfort him about the whole thing. It is jarring compared to all their other interactions, but he appreciates it anyway. “She’ll be put under and we monitor all the vitals, like breathing and heart rate. But I promise that it’s really routine and easy on her.”
“And after? What happens after the … procedure? Are there any problems then?”
“She’ll just have to come back to get the stitches taken out. Otherwise, she can return to business as usual.”
Danneel hands over a pamphlet about neutering pets and he runs his thumb over the pictures on the front, a big brown happy looking dog and slim orange cat. He thinks about how neither of these animals are like his cat, but they seem healthy and happy, all things considered.
Jensen presses his fingers around the pamphlet, crinkling the edges as he thinks about how this cat has become a bigger ordeal than he ever planned. And when he looks up at Danneel, still watching him, he thinks about the few times she’s talked to him at their building about Buddy … who he still needs a new name. Which will be hell after having no idea what to call her when he thought it was a male.
With a defeated nod, Jensen says, “So, you were just offering professional advice.”
“What do you mean?” she asks, a little tight and a lot confused.
“All those times when we ran into each other … you weren’t just harassing me about the cat, but actually trying to help.”
“Who would’ve thought?” Danneel smirks and tips her head to stare at him, like all the times before, but with a little less fire. “I wasn’t trying to be a bitch. I was just trying to help.”
“Yeah, I see that now,” Jensen concedes. “I’m sorry. For all of that before.” He folds the pamphlet and shoves it in his pocket just so he can be busy with anything aside from looking at her as he admits all of this. “I’m not used to dealing with people much. It’s very possible I’m not actually very good at it.”
“I can tell,” she chuckles. “But it’s kind of charming now that I know that. You’re just a bit more awkward than the average fella.”
A smile comes to his face before he can stop it. He nods in agreement and figures he’s said enough to ease this situation. There are thoughts about asking if he could talk to her more about the cat, or call here when other things come up … but he knows he’ll do neither. He’ll just stick to Google and seek out all his answers on the internet, without human interaction.
“Do you want to schedule your follow up?” she offers while tapping at the keyboard.
He hums and looks at the cat standing at his side. He definitely should, but he doesn’t want to deal with that right now. He thinks he’s already done enough with these awkward conversations, especially with Jared. Words he’d love to erase from memory, though he’s sure they’ll replay in his head ad nauseum.
Besides, he has more research to do before he feels comfortable with giving the cat up for the procedure or be needled for shots.
“I’ll get back to you on that.,” Jensen finally answers.
Danneel now has a bit of a frown going on and he hates that she feels sorry for him. Even if it seems like it’s an improvement to all previous attitudes they’ve exchanged. “Don’t wait too long. Especially if she remains an outdoor cat.”
“Yeah, okay,” he replies, intending to agree that he sees the problem. He thinks it may have come out with more attitude because she glares at him.
“I know where you live,” comes out like a threat, but it’s tempered with a smile when she comes around the counter and scrubs fingers against the side of the cat’s face. “And I know where to come find you, baby girl.”
Hearing girl is still alarming. He’ll have to get used to that.
Part 3