fandomtownies | The graveyard, Tuesday afternoon

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The graveyard, Tuesday afternoon

When Mildred came in to do her Tuesday cleaning, she cheerfully informed Castiel that something was "growling in the trees".

As she didn't seem terribly traumatized, Castiel could only assume that it wasn't anything too dangerous, so he took his time before going out into the graveyard to investigate, wings stretched and poised invisibly in response to the supposed threat.

There was indeed something growling in the trees. Emphasis on the was. As soon as Castiel was in jumping range, the thing -- which turned out to be a little, somewhat scraggly looking orange and black cat -- flung itself from the branches with a triumphant howl and landed on Castiel's head. It dug its claws in to Castiel's hair, twisting its body frantically about as it tried to find a good spot to start gnawing.

Castiel sighed and waited patiently for the creature to finish, then reached up to dislodge it.

The cat let out a horrified shriek the moment Castiel's hands came near, took another flying leap, leaving faint welts on Castiel's forehead, and took cover behind a tombstone.

And Castiel thought humans were weird.

[ooc: as open as you want it to be.]

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Chuck had found himself bored beyond reckoning after class and, oddly enough, Castiel was pretty high up on his list when it came to entertainment. And, what do you know, Cass didn't disappoint.

"What are you doing?"

"There is a cat hiding behind that tombstone."

That didn't really answer Chuck's question, did it?

"Do you...not like cats or something?"

"I love all of God's creatures," Castiel said. A set of tiny, parallel scratches on his forehead oozed slightly. "It jumped on my head."

That was...actually kind of funny. But he wasn't going to laugh, seeing as there was blood involved and all. "Did you do something to piss it off?"

Castiel had no idea. "I don't think so. What pisses off a cat?"

"From what I've seen most things piss off cats," he said. "But the only pet I've had is a monkey. I'm not a cat expert or anything."

". . . You have a pet monkey?"

"Yeah, back in New York," Chuck said with a nod. "His name is Sweetie."

"You didn't bring him to the island with you," Castiel observed. The concept of pets was still somewhat new to him, and he found it endlessly fascinating. "Do you miss it?"

"Sometimes," Chuck admitted. "It's kind of nice having something around that likes you no matter what kind of person you are."

"And animals show such . . . like?"

"Sure they do. Sweetie hates to be separated from me while I'm around. Never leaves my shoulder. Annoys the hell out of my dad," Chuck said. God, he loved that monkey. "You just have to let the animal get used to you."

Castiel nodded slowly. "I see. And this is true of all animals?"

Chuck suddenly got an image of Castiel trying to befriend a bear or something. "No. No, definitely not. Just, like, cats and dogs normally. Sweetie is a fluke. Most people don't keep monkeys."

Castiel could totally befriend a bear. And if he couldn't, he'd put it to sleep.

Maybe.

Castiel looked to the tombstone, where the cat was peering out at him. It growled softly.

"I see."

Chuck looked over at the cat. "Just go over there and be nice to it."

Even if it didn't work, it'd still be funny to watch.

The look Castiel gave Chuck indicated that he was rather dubious of this plan, but he went over, anyway.

The cat slunk back behind the tombstone, making little squeaks of . . . well, Castiel couldn't interpret the tone of those squeaks. His wings twitched as he tried to work it out.

"Hello, cat," he tried, in his nicest tone -- which on Castiel meant a total deadpan. The cat narrowed its eyes at him, its butt twitching.

Castiel rather thought it might be working.

Chuck pressed his lips together in order to keep from laughing. This was absolutely ridiculous. "Just...just hold your hand out and let the cat smell it. Slowly. They're very cautious."

Castiel glanced back at Chuck, and the cat took its opportunity. It leaped from behind the tombstone with a triumphant yowl, claws extended, and proceeded to try to mutilate the end of his coat.

Castiel looked down at it, then back at Chuck, making no attempt to halt its progress. "Should I still offer it my hand?"

Chuck raised his eyebrows. "Uh, no, I think you might end up getting scratched. It might not just not like you for some reason."

Castiel looked down at the cat again. "I sometimes get that reaction."

"You just take some getting used to," Chuck said. "I'm sure it'll come around to you."

Or not.

The cat was dangling upside down by its grip on Castiel's coat, mouth clamped on the hem, tail swishing back and forth wildly. Castiel frowned. "I think it's vibrating."

"Vibrating?" What kind of pervert cat was this?

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