“There is something about the presence of a cat that seems to take the bite out of being alone.” Louis Camuti

The sky was falling. Not literally speaking, of course, but it seemed to be the most accurate term to describe the freezing rain pounding down from the heavens with no regard or mercy for the citizens of Acmetropolis. One resident in particular found the storm to be very unappealing as he trudged home through the nearly deserted streets downtown. Normally he would have simply made use of his jetpack, making the travel time considerably less lengthy, however, today he figured he would walk.

Alright, so that wasn’t entirely true. The honest truth was merely that the recluse was under strict orders from his team to step outside his lab and take a break. Apparently, according to Duck, it simply wasn’t socially acceptable for an individual to withdraw himself, without food nor water nor sleep, into a confined space for seventeen hours at a time in-between missions. Mind you, those were far from his exact words, but anyways… that’s what the coyote had understood.

Well, anyways, not to pass the opportunity up, the others had requested that he go grocery shopping. It was something they did nearly every day—what with Slam eating them out of house and home constantly. He glanced down at the primitive brown paper bags clutched in his arms and vaguely began to ponder why shopping bags had not evolved along with society. It was an odd thing, really… still hearing the three words that had been passed down from generation to generation: “Paper or plastic?”

By now every inch of him was soaking wet, down to his very bone marrow even. There was no need to draw attention to himself by staying in uniform, and thus he wore a heavy trench coat with simple t-shirt and jeans attire underneath. The clothes only did so much for him in the way of waterproofing, and certainly they did nothing to protect his solemn face. The expanse of soft brown fur covering his facial features was both matted and windswept by the storm, water droplets occasionally sliding off the tip of his wet black nose.

Though he walked with his eyes half closed to shield against the gusting winds, he wasn’t blind to the path ahead. There, alone and miserable, sat what appeared to be a shivering mass of black-and-white fur. Upon closer inspection the coyote made it out to be an assumedly stray kitten.

Sure the creature’s owner was about, he kept up his pace, nearly passing the drenched feline. He would have kept on his way too were it not for the pathetic meow that it emitted, causing him to cringe as sympathy bubbled up inside of him. Grudgingly he glanced over his shoulder, only to see the kitten’s own eyes boring into him with sorrow. He sighed—even he couldn’t pass up that look. It was almost as bad as seeing Rev depressed.

Swiftly turning on his heel, he stepped within an arm’s reach of the kitten before crouching down and shaking his head at the little being. “You know I can’t take you with me,” the coyote stated matter-of-factly, forgetting the pounding rain as he stared at the young cat.

“Slam would try to eat you,” he said, trying his best to sound convincing. But the kitten merely mewed, tilting its head curiously as she listened to his words. Who was he trying to convince anyways? Himself or the cat? He wasn’t even going to bother answering that question as he was sure that the answer would not satisfy him.

Finally the coyote allowed a gruff sigh to escape his throat before he slowly reached forward, picking up the kitten in one hand. Standing, he adjusted the grocery bags in one arm and clutched the furball in the other. He took one quick glance around the vicinity to see if anyone was watching before picking up his previous pace, homeward bound without a word.

TRIANGLE.

“Welcome to headquarters, Tech E. Coyote,” greeted the computerized voice as his facial scan was confirmed. The automatic doors slid open, granting him entrance into the main room where the rest of the team was gathered, with the exception of Rev. Great, he thought to himself.

He must have been a miserable sight to behold because no sooner had he stepped foot into the room did everyone stop whatever it was they were doing to look at him. As his luck would have it, it was then that the paper grocery bags decided to give way. All that rain had really taken a toll on them and food items came tumbling out onto the floor as the bags began to sag and rip. Come to think of it, why had he even asked for paper bags on a rainy day? True genius at work. Pardon the sarcasm.

Duck was in near hysterics by the time Ace finally commented, “Look what the cat dragged in.”

As if on cue, it was then that the kitten chose to reveal itself, leaping out of Tech’s grasp before he could even react. The black-and-white furball landed with a soft thud in-between the coyote and the rest of the team. A stunned silence followed.

“Eh, I didn’t mean that literally, doc,” Ace pointed out, raising an eyebrow as the kitten began to purr, rubbing against the bunny’s left leg affectionately. “Care to explain our little friend here?”

Tech opened his mouth to speak only to be cut off as Duck stepped forward and snatched up the kitten by the scruff off its neck. Dangling the feline at eye level, he frowned in disgust. “Gross, this thing could have fleas or somethin’!”
Lexi quickly grabbed the kitten away from Duck and hugged it to her chest. “Aww! It’s so cute,” she squealed happily, smothering the poor creature. “Hey!” she exclaimed as it was suddenly yanked from her grasp by huge furry hands.

“Earaghbleh kitty?” Slam asked, holding the kitten in one hand and scratching his head with the other. He studied the small being before suddenly licking his lips in a sort of naïve preparation to devour the helpless live animal.

“Slam, no!” Lexi cried.

Before the Tasmanian could sink his bone crushing jaws into the young cat, Tech lunged forward and snatched the kitten from Slam’s hands. Protectively cradling the creature in his arms, the coyote exchanged a private look with Ace before stalking off in the direction of his lab.

Upon reaching the door, the coyote paused and looked down at the kitten. “This is why I shouldn’t have brought you,” he explained with a sigh. Entering the lab, he set the kitten down before removing his coat and hanging it out to dry over an empty chair. Stretching for a moment he then looked over at the young cat again. “You must be hungry,” he thought aloud.

Quite obviously having no cat food in the tower, the coyote settled on a bowl of warm milk. Returning from the kitchen with it, he found the kitten having made itself at home on top of Tech’s Molecular Reconstructor. However, seeing him, the small creature quickly leaped to the floor and began hungrily lapping up its meal as the bowl was set down.

Moving over to the dusty stereo that he rarely used, the coyote found himself somehow compelled to turn it on, and so he did.

“I love you, baby,
And if it’s quite alright
I need you, baby,
To warm a lonely night
I love you, baby,
Trust me when I say—”

Tech frowned, switching to the next radio station. A moment later he realized that his shirt was still drenched. Finding the wet cloth very uncomfortable against his fur, the coyote pulled the fabric over his head, tossing it off to the side without much care.

The genius pulled his glasses out of his trench coat pocket before sitting down cross-legged on the cool floor of the lab as sort of a spur of the moment thing. He turned the glasses over in his hands, frowning at them. He barely noticed as the black-and-white kitten curled up with his tail. The atmosphere was so serene—somehow he just wasn’t feeling the stress and loneliness that usually came along with having an IQ above average. It was about that time that he began to tune into the song on the radio station he had put on, just as the last verses were sung.

“…When she plays, Molly smiles
On a summer day, Molly smiles
A new day, Molly smiles
When the days have gone grey,
Nothing's wrong when Molly smiles…”

“Molly,” he whispered to himself, glancing over his shoulder at the kitten. “That’s your name.”

“Hey-Tech!” Rev suddenly burst in through the doors, startling Tech and causing him to glance over his shoulder in confusion at the hyperactive bird. Molly, as the kitten was now dubbed, seemed unfazed by the otherwise rude awakening. She remained snuggled contently in the warmth of the coyote’s tail, purring softly.

The roadrunner had yet to notice the young cat and therefore quickly began to gush, “Duck-broke-the-toaster-again-and-we-really-need-your-help-to-fix—” He cut himself off, finally noticing the kitten. “Tech, um…” he trailed off, staring at the coyote and the feline. Rev wasn’t particularly fond of cats, perhaps partially due to the fact that he was still a bird, however big.

“Molly,” Tech muttered simply before turning his attention back to his glasses.

“Oh, pretty baby,
Don’t bring me down, I pray,
Oh, pretty baby,
Now that I found you, stay…”