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Stupid rain.
<p>
He had always kind of liked the rain -- but that had been before he had gotten fur. Now he wasn't as fond of it as he would like. He actually wished it could be outlawed. Rain on skin was one thing -- one could wipe it off with a towel. But on fur? It just wasn't as simple.
<p>
Of course, it didn't really help that Pax was still new to this whole fur thing. Ever since he had magically turned into a cat, he had been wandering around on four feet, stuck. He had tried going home, but he couldn't exactly get in because he couldn't reach the keypad to get into his apartment. That had been embarrassing, and Pax would have hung his head in shame, but because he was a cat, he had been chased by the nosy lady next door. Apparently she wasn't a cat lover, which Pax now found to be her worst quality.
<p>
How had he even become a cat in the first place? And not just any cat, a fluffy orange cat with a mashed face. He wasn't even cute! He was some forlorn looking cat, and he had nowhere to go. No one even knew he was a cat... but someone had to know he was missing, right? It was so frustrating now. Why had this happened to him? Pax didn't deserve to be a cat. He needed to be a nice, normal human again. How could he stop crime as a cat? He couldn't even make his fur dry!
<p>
Pax let out a little howl as he settled back on his haunches. He had managed to make it all the way to the Crown Parlor, mostly because it had been the closest place he recognized when the rain had started up. He was hoping that someone would eventually take pity on him and feed him. Or dry him. Someone had to have a heart, right? So then they could dry him off, give him something to eat -- maybe salmon or tuna, or milk. He had never really liked that stuff before, but now... now he found he was craving that stuff. He hoped that didn't mean he was going to be a cat for the rest of his life. Pax didn't think he'd be able to make it as a cat. His mother owned a dog, for crying out loud! Dogs hated cats!
<p>
There had to be a way to be a human again. Pax didn't know how, but he didn't want to believe he was going to be cursed to be a cat for the rest of his young life. He had so much going for him. He was getting married! He might not have been thrilled about that in the past, but the last few days he had come to think that maybe marriage wouldn't be so bad. If he was able to go back to being a human again, Pax was going to make it a point to actually ask Charlotte out on a date to get to know her. They were supposed to be getting married anyway, so he might as well be nice to her... especially if there was some sort of weird curse with him being a cat. She would need to know how to take care of one.
<p>
Yeah, that was definitely going to be his first question on their date... if he ever got to that point. Right now he looked pretty pitiful: wet fur, not a human. Pax's whole life was going down the drain.
<p>
He glanced up at the sound of someone gasping. At last! Maybe someone recognized him!?

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Things just kept getting weirder and weirder and Anthony wasn't quite sure how he felt about that. Reports kept coming in about these attacks occurring all over the city, different times, different places, different things causing them, but one universal thing was clear. People were beginning to worry. Crank calls to the station had gone up, as well as random calls from people who wanted to know if their pool cleaner was about to eat them. Tony hated desk duty on a good day. Now anytime he walked past a phone he had to pray it wasn't going to start ringing. He'd never once, in all his years working as a cop, been hesitant to walk the beat, but now... now he wasn't so sure. <br><br>

Oh there were those who thought it was just a bunch of crazies who were causing all this, but Tony knew differently. Twice he'd been there when one of those creatures attacked. Twice he'd managed to keep people safe, but that didn't make the stone weight in his gut any better. Normal people, normal cops like them weren't cut out for this kind of stuff. That was one thing the police academy definitely hadn't trained them for, though Tony would have loved to see the seminar names. 'Monster Bashing 101' and 'How to kill a yarn creature'. Yeah, he'd have laughed himself right out of there. <br><br>

But with every dark moment there seemed to be a light one too, though Tony was hesitant to call them that good. A couple of people, weirdly dressed people he'd add had stepped up to take on that sparky thing and he'd commended their efforts even if the thing had ultimately gotten away. The cake had to be given to that damn cat though. That thing had been tiny by comparison and it had jumped into the fray like nothing else. <br><br>

Of course, it was probably just that it had seen yarn and gone ‘bingo!’ rather than any intent to help or save anyone. Nonetheless, it had bought time and that was what had counted. Still, how did one explain to co-workers that a cat had helped bust up an attack from a yarn monster? He’d think he was crazy if he hadn’t been standing there. Looking up as the havens decided to open up on him as he walked; Tony shoved his hands into his pockets and kept moving. <br><br>

Maybe he should finally invest in an umbrella like Bianca kept telling him to. <br><br>

Eventually his trek led him to the Crown Parlor and Anthony seriously considered just walking past. It definitely wasn’t his normal hang-out, but the rain was getting heavier and he would like to dry off a tad, even if it was just so he could wipe his face with a napkin. So, decision made, he wandered towards the doors and glanced down to wipe his feet.... <br><br>

...And spotted the cat from before. The orange one, manky though it was. He didn’t gasp like a girl. He did not and Tony would deny it to the day he died, but he might have inhaled just a little bit louder than normal. He looked at the cat for a few minutes, in all its drenched glory –and wasn’t that ironic? A cat looking like a drowned rat- as it looked up at him. Didn’t it have an owner? He’d assumed it belonged to one of the old folks at the retirement home but evidently not. A few moments passed before Tony looked up and around for a moment. No-one else seemed to have noticed it and he was fairly certain that animals weren’t allowed in the Parlor, but he couldn’t just kick it out into the rain. <br><br>

Glancing down one more time, Tony jerked his head to one of the tables and wandered over to it. Either the cat would follow or it wouldn’t, but at least he’d offered. Sort of. He’d offered a seat to a cat.

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Well, this was ironic. Of all the people to come across Pax having a pity party for himself in cat form, it was Tony -- the very person that had been around when Pax had first become a cat. Tony had no idea that it was Pax in cat form, but at least it was a familiar face for Pax. He was feeling quite down about life, and himself, as it was -- a familiar face did brighten things up... well, a little bit, anyway. Pax was still a cat, and he'd very much like to not be a cat. But, at least he knew who Tony was. Even if Tony didn't know it was Pax, it was better to be found by him rather than some small child that tried to pull his tail -- that would be bad. It hadn't happened yet, but Pax had seen it happen to other animals before, and he was hoping to avoid that as well.
<p>
Still, there was the problem of communicating. Pax could probably speak -- he vaguely recalled crying out when he had attacked that yarn monster -- but even he didn't think it would be wise to talk while in cat form. Not unless Tony was drunk and would be willing to pass this off as a really weird dream. But that seemed a little out there. Pax wasn't even sure that Tony drank, let alone whether or not he was the type of person to get drunk... he didn't look like he was out of sorts. Talking would certainly be easier than not saying anything at all, but what would Pax even say? "Hey, Tony, it's me, Pax?" Yeah, he really doubted that would go over well. Believing in monsters was one thing, but a talking cat? Or even a cat that had once been a human? That just seemed a little too much. Considering Pax was having a hard enough time believing the whole thing -- and it was him that was the cat -- he doubted Tony would be receptive of it either.
<p>
No, if Pax was going to tell anyone about this whole thing, it would be Terry... But Pax hadn't quite gotten that far yet. And the only reason he would even consider telling Terry about this was the fact that Terry was a very logical, serious guy. He might not be as freaked out and as surprised as anyone else... like Pax.
<p>
Then again, this could just be a really bad dream, still. Maybe it was one of those long ones -- or an ongoing dream. Maybe Pax was in a coma somewhere, and that was why he was believing himself to be in cat form. Just because it felt real, and seemed real, couldn't possibly mean that it was real... right? Monsters were one thing, but humans turning into cats? That was complete madness. Pax couldn't really be a cat. No one else had turned into a cat. Why would he be the only one? Was there something in the water he was drinking that made him more susceptible to being a cat? Or had the yarn monster put a weird curse on him?
<p>
And even more importantly, would he be a cat forever?
<p>
The mere thought of being furry, orange, and having a mashed nose for the rest of his life didn't do much for Pax's mood. He almost howled in grief at the very idea, but Tony seemed to be regarding him oddly... Pax perked up. Maybe Tony recognized him from the whole yarn monster incident? How many funny looking cats could there be in Tokyo? He was pretty sure he took the cake -- and that wasn't his ego talking. Pax really didn't think he was all that good looking as a cat, and as far as he could recall, he didn't think there were many out there that looked similar to him. Or like him at all. There was a small sense of pride in being the only one, but only barely. Pax really was missing his handsome human face right now.
<p>
With bated breath, Pax watched Tony watch him. Then Tony pushed open the door to Crown Parlor and jerked his head as if to tell Pax he could follow him. Pax's heart gave a little jump with joy. Finally! Someone was taking pity on his poor bedraggled self -- someone was going to feed him! Pax didn't think twice as he trotted along behind Tony, thoughts of food filling his head. What did it matter that it probably looked strange for someone to be motioning for a cat to go inside an eatery? Pax was starving. Food would be the first step, and then he would be able to figure out how to get back to being a human. Possibly.
<p>
As Tony took a seat, Pax regarded one of his own, debating whether or not he could jump that high. Just because he was a cat, and just because cats could jump to lots of places, didn't mean that Pax knew how. He was still getting used to the tail swishing behind him, the whiskers on his face, and walking on four paws.
<p>
Wiggling his behind, Pax took a might leap, and barely managed to avoid skidding off the chair he had just jumped onto. Peeking over the table at Tony, Pax gave a sort of "harrumph" sound as he realized the table was a little higher than he was. Well, great. Now how was he supposed to eat?

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Was it normal to be so acutely aware of what amounted to a fur ball? Tony wasn’t sure, but that was how things stood. He could all but sense the little thing trotting along behind him and, once again, he had to resist the urge to shake his head. And ring his doctor to get himself an appointment so his head could be checked. It wasn’t the monsters. That part he could handle and, though with a bit of fuss, admit was reality -it had happened to him twice now after all- but there were just some things that didn’t quite fit with that whole reality idea. One of them being that a cat had defeated one of those monsters. Yes, yarn, cat, he’d already gone through that discussion with himself a few times now, but seriously? It was a cat! A bloody cat for heavens sakes. Tony was as sane as the next person, he liked to believe and barring one exception, but the whole cat thing was going to take a while to sort through. Nobody had ever said he was evil though, hence why he had let the cat in with him. Wasn’t fair to just leave it out there, especially after it’s daring escapade the other day. It had genuinely helped him, whether it had intended to or not. Surely that was worth some courtesy on his part. <p>

He hadn’t realized the cat might not being able to get up on the seat, after all, it had done a fairly good demonstration of it’s jumping abilities the other day, but just as Tony moved to lean down and grab it up, it made its way onto the seat of it’s own volition. Tony straightened and, once again, he found himself just looking at the animal. He didn’t even stare this much at Ratchet. Blinking a few times, Tony considered what to do about this. The cat couldn’t seem to see over the table without a little propping up, and he didn't exactly have any phone books it could sit on. Really the only thing he could offer was his shoes. Toeing off one of his boots, which was fairly sturdy in its own right, he maneuvered it up onto the seat next to the cat. He couldn't make the cat do anything, he didn't want to get the hell scratched out of him after all, but he'd offered. Again. Tony could only imagine what his brother would have to say if he were here. Probably something about how animals seemed to love him. Ratchet was a totally different story but then he'd raised the iguana himself. There was a special connection there, even if others had a hard time seeing it. <p>

He felt like he needed a coffee and considering how much he loathed the bitter liquid, that was saying something. Maybe not a coffee then. He wasn't that desperate just yet. <p>

“Wait here,” he said to the cat, though he doubted if it could even understand him. Either way, the four legged animal had a better chance of not getting kicked out if it did stay at the table. Tony walked over to the counter and ordered an iced tea and sandwich for himself and a glass of milk with a saucer for the cat. Cats generally liked milk didn't they? As he waited for the drinks, he glanced back at the cat and once again had to wonder where it had come from. None of the old people had laid claim to it but perhaps they'd been too shaken up over the monster attack to care. Now it was just wandering around town. Part of Tony hoped someone came looking for it, simply so it wouldn't follow him home. He'd never been a huge cat person, plus Ratchet didn't like cats. Ratchet didn't like anything that wasn't another iguana though so that wasn't odd. Then again, if it did, he wouldn't be able to just kick it out. <p>

'Damn me and my bleeding heart,' he cursed himself silently, just as the guy behind the counter returned with his things. After paying, and with a thanks, Tony headed back to the table. He poured some of the milk onto the saucer and put it down on the seat beside the cat. "There you go." He then began picking at his sandwich and drink. He didn't have much of an appetite but he had to eat something. Otherwise he'd start getting those spotty parts in his vision and that would make walking very difficult. <p>

Shaking his head one more time, Tony took a mouthful of his drink and sighed. He was having lunch with a cat. Definitely a new experience for him.

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Tony had to be a mind reader. There was no other explanation for it. Pax had been sitting there, eyeing the table and debating whether or not to jump on it, when Tony placed his shoe onto the chair. Pax hadn't even seen Tony take the shoe off, but he must have if it was now seated beside Pax. He had been in need of a seat, and Tony had provided it... well, sort of. It wasn't quite a stool or child seat, but it would probably work. Pax could sit on his haunches, reach the table, and then eat. Hopefully. He was going to have to do some serious tail wagging or something to get Tony to read his mind about that -- although he couldn't really think of anything else Tony would expect a cat to do inside a dining place. Pax could only hope that he'd get something good to eat. Chicken, tuna, salmon -- hell, any kind of fish would do. Pax seemed to be thinking like a cat in the sense that he had been craving fish lately. <p>

Maneuvering himself onto the shoe, Pax tried to make himself comfortable, and then glanced back at his dining companion expectantly. He wasn't sure how to send his thoughts across to Tony. He just... willed it. Whether or not it worked, Pax didn't know. But soon after he began staring at the cop intently, Tony got up and wandered away. Pax tried craning his neck to see where Tony was going, but he could only see so much. But with Tony now gone, Pax felt like an idiot. Here he was, a cat, sitting alone at a table, on top of a shoe. This couldn't possibly be normal. Being a cat certainly wasn't normal, but Pax felt that by being a cat inside a restaurant, sitting at a table by himself was really abnormal. All those parents that told their kids to be different and stand out needed to learn a thing or two from being a cat -- being different was kind of scary. People were definitely going to talk about Pax, and even though they weren't going to know who he was, Pax still didn't like it when people talked about him. <p>

Before long Tony returned. Pax was only glad to see the officer because it meant he wouldn't look like an idiot alone. It did, however, make him wonder about Tony. What grown man had a meal with a cat? Tony's probably one of those weird cat lovers. I hope he's not one of those cat talkers, too. He grimaced a little at the thought, but Tony didn't really say anything yet. He merely put a bowl of milk in front of Pax. <p>

Pax blinked. Milk? Did cats really drink this stuff? Sure he had thought of it earlier, but he had assumed he would get a little meat to actually chew. How the hell was he supposed to eat milk? Lap it up? How did cats do that, though? Pax had never lapped anything up like that before -- and he had no thumbs or fingers, so he couldn't just pick up the bowl... oh, this was aggravating. He leaned toward the milk, sniffing it suspiciously. It smelled fine. Giving a quick glance up at Tony before looking back at the bowl, Pax hesitantly moved his face toward it, sticking his tongue out to try and lap up the stuff. It turned out to be surprisingly easy. He wasn't sure how it had worked, or how he knew what to do, but that didn't really matter -- he could now drink milk! Pax quickly began lapping up the white liquid, enjoying the feel of a full stomach again when he was done. Finally -- now he didn't feel completely forsaken by the world. <p>

When he had finished, Pax found himself with the uncontrollable urge to clean himself. He lifted a paw to begin, licking at the hair with a mixture of pleasure and disgust. He definitely wasn't cut out to be a cat. If he got a hairball later... Pax shuddered. He just couldn't think about it. Instead, he finished cleaning his one paw and glanced over at Tony again, craning his head to see what he was eating. A sandwich. Of course. If he were still hungry, Pax might try and find a way to ask for a piece of the sandwich, but he was actually quite content after that bowl of milk. So, instead, he opted for the first thing that came to mind. <p>

"Thank-you." He had been expecting a meow to come out, because that was normally what cats did... but this wasn't a meow that came out of his mouth. It was an actual word. At least, that's what it sounded like. But that couldn't really be possible, could it? Pax glanced over at Tony with wide eyes, unsure what had just occurred.

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Tony didn’t miss the slight hesitation the cat seemed to have towards the milk. Really? Had he just somehow managed to stumble across the one cat in the world who was probably lactose intolerant? Probably, knowing his luck. And it made him feel a bit bad. He hadn’t wanted the thing to be hungry, so he’d gotten the milk. Now that might not have been the best idea. He was on a roll today. Eventually though, the little critter began to lap the stuff up and Tony relaxed a fraction. Once again, and definitely not for the last time that day, he was sure, Tony wondered why he’d felt the need to help this cat. It wasn’t so bad though. It hadn’t tried clawing him to bits like some throughout his life had. Hence why he wasn’t much of a cat person. Evil cats who’d scratched him as a kid had kind of sealed the deal on that one. <p>

Grinning a little, because obviously the cat wasn’t lactose intolerant after all, Tony dug into his own food. He hadn’t been starving, but it was incredible what having the food in front of one could do. He didn’t miss it half eying off his food either, but now he really wasn’t sure how a cat would take to a seafood salad sandwich. Then it seemed content to move on and Tony watched as it went about starting to clean itself. All in all, it wasn’t too bad. It hadn’t tried scratching him yet, and it didn’t seem like a pest. Unlike some cats he’d known over his lifetime, always pawing for attention and trying to be in the middle of everything. Tony had helped one of his friends move, and they had cats, and he’d nearly crushed ones tail because he hadn’t seen it. Of course it had been his fault according to it’s owner, but Tony was still adamant that the damn thing had been trying to kill him. He’d been moving a large wardrobe after all. If he’d fallen, he’d probably have killed himself. So, he’d nicknamed it Devil Spawn. <p>

And he wasn’t going back on that. Ever. <p>

This cat though… well, if there were more like it, perhaps Tony would come to like them. Turning his attention from the feline for a moment, Tony returned to his food and had just taken a bite when it spoke. It honest-to-whatever-god-was-out-there-and-happened-to-be-listening spoke. Out loud. To him. The cat had just spoken to him in plain English. Naturally, Tony had inhaled a little bit at that, but since he’d been eating at the time, it didn’t end well. He started coughing a little violently and he could feel his eyes watering, but his mind was too hung up on the fact a cat had just said ‘thank you’, plain as day. When the little fit passed, and after a quick mouthful of his drink to be sure, he stared at the thing and even he could see it looked surprised. <p>

“Wh-What?” he croaked, his throat still a tad raw. Coughing would do that to someone, as would having a piece of sandwich go down the wrong way. ‘Ok,’ he thought. ‘Lets be rational here. Maybe it’s a trained special cat. Like a circus one or something. Someone probably taught it to say that as a trick.’ It sounded weak even to his own ears, but Tony really, really wanted to believe that. After all, he’d just finished convincing himself he wasn’t crazy for helping the fur ball. “Okay. Okay this isn’t a big deal. The cat just spoke but it’s alright because I’ve seen crazier,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head. That was both true and not really. Monsters were one thing, they just made him feel a bit less safe than he normally would, but they didn’t make him question his sanity. <p>

Tony was about to shake his head again when a thought suddenly occurred to him. What if someone else had heard that? Glancing around quickly, he was grateful to see that it appeared nobody had heard the cat talk. Just him. “You are one weird kitty cat,” he said to the fur ball who was still sitting across from him. “How about you and I just kind of forget that you just spoke and we can just go on about our day without possibly thinking one of us is crazy?” he offered, wondering why he was now talking to the thing. Maybe he wanted to see if it would talk back. Part of him hoped it would. <p>

Part of him really hoped it wouldn’t.

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For half a minute Pax thought that Tony might not have heard him... but then Tony lapsed into a bit of a coughing fit, and even Pax couldn't pretend otherwise. Now he had to figure out what to do, and say. Or if he ought to say anything at all. What did cats say in such circumstances? Oh, right, cats didn't say anything at all. They weren't supposed to, and if they did, they probably kept it on the down-low. Pax really ought to do the same thing. Scaring Tony to death wouldn't help him. It would probably just send Tony down to the hospital to get his head checked out or something... But wouldn't it be nice, and easy, to just be able to explain the situation? To say that he was Pax, and that he was now a cat? <p>

As nice as it sounded, though, Pax had to admit there was a very big flaw in that plan. Who in their right mind would believe him? And how in their right mind would believe anyone that did believe him? Pax wouldn't believe someone if they said a cat had talked to them... And honestly, what would Pax even say? He wasn't sure how he had become a cat in the first place, so he didn't know how he could even explain that little tidbit. There was probably a scientific explanation behind it... or whatever explanation people were using for the monsters currently wandering about the city, but Pax wasn't sure how that worked, or what that explanation was. <p>

In the end it would probably be easier not to say another word. Not until he was sure he would be taken seriously, and that the other person wouldn't think they were going completely mad because he was talking. The chances of that ever happening were really, really slim. Pax would have thought that because Tony had fought that yarn monster thing not that long ago, that he would be more inclined to go with the flow with a talking cat... but now that he was really considering it, Pax had to admit that was a bit of a stretch. Nothing would ever really make a talking cat normal. <p>

So Pax didn't really say anything more. He couldn't -- not until he was sure the other person wouldn't run the other way. It would probably be a good idea to corner a person so they couldn't run and then tell his story. Of course, Pax really hoped he wouldn't still be a cat by then. After all, if he had turned into one perhaps he could just stop being one... magically or something. It made some sort of sense in his mind at least. <p>

Besides, Tony didn't seem to want to believe Pax had spoken. Pax didn't really want to make Tony faint, or run out of the diner... so he simply put on an innocent look on his face. He had no idea how cats did that, but he figured if he didn't speak, and he kept his eyes from blinking, he might pass as being semi-innocent looking. He didn't think Tony was really buying that, which only made Pax twitch. Things were weird now, made even more so by the fact that Pax was refusing to make any sounds whatsoever. What would a real cat do in this situation? Pax tried to wrack his brain, but the most he could think of was... well, leaving. <p>

The mere idea pained him a little, because he didn't really know where he would go, or what would become of him... but if he couldn't get himself to speak again, to try and say who he was, Pax didn't think he was going to get lucky and hear Tony suggest taking him home to be a pet. That would probably be even weirder. Which made him return to walking away. At least for now; he could always lurk about the police station later, and maybe someone would take pity on him. Was Terry a cat person? <p>

Casting a sideways glance at Tony, Pax stood up on all four of his paws, waggled his tail a little as he eyed the distance to the floor, and then gave a flying leap. He wobbled a bit on the landing, which made him glance back a little sheepishly at Tony before moving a way. He could walk away with some sort of grace... or something. Pax wasn't sure where he was going to go, but now that he had some food in him, he figured he could figure out a way back into his apartment to sleep off being a cat.

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