Note: For Remix Revival 2021. Based on “Strange Bedfellow” by Owlmoose.
Weaving with Spaghetti (the deaged cat remix)
by EstiRose
There was a cat on the bed, a kitten really. Cassandra looked at it, as it looked back at her, mouth opening widely for a yawn before settling back to sleep, as if Cassandra was nothing to be concerned about. It was, Cassandra thought, unusual, with its white, orange, and black coat. It still did not belong on their bed, and the fact that it was unexpected in their neatly-kept bedroom irritated her in a way that she could not explain. Perhaps it was because she had thought better of Margaret than to bring a creature into their home without asking her first.
Ever since she had been ripped away from her own place, she was still getting used to things. Margaret had been of much help in that matter, helping her figure out the similarities and differences between Thedas and Earth. They were both soldiers; they were both warriors, in their own ways. Even if Margaret’s line of work reminded her of Leliana and her spies, she had a warrior’s soul.
It still did not explain why a kitten was sleeping on the neatly-made bed that they shared. “Margaret,” she said tightly, crossing her arms and gaining the attention of her partner in the other room.
“Yes?” Margaret asked, looking up from her book. She had told Cassandra once that Cassandra was welcome to call her Peggy, the short form of her name (and how was “Peggy” the short form of “Margaret”, Cassandra wanted to know) , but there was a certain beautiful way that “Margaret” rolled off of Cassandra’s tongue in a way that “Peggy” did not.
“What do you know about this,” Cassandra hissed, pointing in the direction of their bed. She knew that Margaret, sitting down with Cassandra blocking the doorway, could not see. But Margaret was intelligent. She could figure it out.
“About what?” Margaret closed the book over her index finger. Cassandra inwardly sighed; bookmarks existed in this world as much as they were in her own, but Margaret tended to forget that they did. She joined Cassandra at the doorway and peered through. “The kitten?”
“Yes – the creature on our bed.” Cassandra could not say that she hated cats. She was neutral towards them unless they were where they were not supposed to be. Which this one was definitively where it wasn’t supposed to be, which was a problem.
Margaret may have blinked. Cassandra studied her face carefully, but it was sometimes hard to read her partner. “My word.” She shook her head. “I’ve no idea where that came from.”
Was Margaret being truthful? Cassandra would have liked to think so. Margaret could be deceptive, but she had found that Margaret was not deceptive around her. Margaret had shared stories about her life in the country called Great Britain, how she’d grown up, learned to fight, spy, and speak several languages. In return, Cassandra had shared stories of growing up in Nevarra, of her brother’s death and her entry into the Seekers of Truth. How she’d arrived on Earth in the middle of helping track down and defeat Fen’Harel.
She still dared not think of him by the name he’d gone by before. That still gave her pain.
She did not want to be betrayed by another. “Oh?” she asked archly.
“Would I lie about this?” There was a small, half-smile on her face. “In the field as often as we both are, neither of us has time to take care of a pet. And even if we did,” Margaret added, “I would not bring one home without talking to you first. We’re partners.”
“I don’t doubt that.” Casandra found herself relaxing. Of course Margaret would not adopt an animal without consulting her – it was ridiculous to think that she would do something like that to Cassandra. That meant that the animal had somehow gotten in without either of them noticing. “But how did it get in?”
“Cats are clever,” Margaret said. “If they want into a place, they’ll find a way.” She looked around the small apartment. “Though the doors and windows are closed, and I think I would have noticed our intruder coming through the living room.”
Or maybe she wouldn’t have. The kitten was small, and Margaret had been quite engrossed in her book. She would have said that she should also have seen the intruder, but perhaps she had been in the kitchen or the toilet at the time.
“That sounds familiar.” It wouldn’t be the first time Margaret had come into their apartment in an unexpected way. And the cat – kitten – was fairly small. She gave her partner a brief smile and then turned back to the kitten, who seemed content to claim their bed as its very own and lost in its own dreamland. “Regardless, what are we to do now?”
Margaret slipped past Cassandra and stepped into the room, kneeling by the bed. The kitten woke up abruptly and let out a meow, staring at Margaret. Margaret smiled, holding out her free hand to the kitten, who sniffed her fingers and rubbed a cheek against her palm. Cassandra had to smile.
“Call the neighbors, I suppose. See if anyone’s kitten’s gone missing.” There was a longing in Margaret’s expression that told Cassandra that Margaret would have adopted the kitten on the spot had it not been for their working lives.
“And if not?” Cassandra asked. It was a kitten, it might be a stray. If it had been a full-blown cat, then it was more likely that it was a neighbor’s. She did have to admit, it was cute, but she had to wonder if they had a place for it in their lives.
“Well,” Margaret sat down on the bed, scratching the kitten’s head, “Perhaps we’ll find a way.”
“Are you sure about this, Margaret?” Cassandra asked. She swore she could hear the kitten purring from all the way across the room.
“We’ll see if this is somebody else’s kitten… and then we’ll discuss it.” Margaret smiled up at her. “We’ll make the decision together.”
“Together,” Cassandra echoed, and she knew that everything would be all right.