Ghostcat shenanigans

[technicallyhellbound]

It had been a few weeks since they'd started this arrangement, and so far the Cat had, in fact, been a surprising amount of help. Enough so that Charles had stopped being mostly on-guard while in his presence and had even taken the 'puppy' nickname in stride, though he still hadn't really looked too deeply at why it didn't bother him as much as it probably should.

That particular day was neither a Monday nor a Friday, and was in fact a Wednesday, so while it wasn't one of their scheduled briefings, it was a visit that had been arranged in advance, a few hours while Crystal and Charles were at a concert, the kind of thing that while Edwin enjoyed being invited to, really wasn't the kind of thing he actually enjoyed going to, and the others both knew it, which was why they continued to invite him, even if he always declined.

It was late afternoon, not yet early evening when he stepped out of the mirror into the cannery, tugging at the collar of his slipover in much the same way he did the lapels of his usual jacket. He'd been branching out from his usual look, just a little, in bits and pieces, and now had something of a range of shades of those softer jumpers, this one was a deep bottle-green and was nearly a cowl-neck, but definitely less severe than his usual look.

It had been raining in London, or rather it had been misting heavily, and he wasn't quite sure if it was still raining here or if it had just finished, there wasn't the same kind of moisture in the air, which meant that if it was raining it hadn't been doing so for long, and all he knew was that the Cat had something planned for them to do, he was only now considering that he probably should have asked a few more questions beforehand.

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[technicallyhellbound]

Edwin reveled in having drawn that sound from the Cat, it was unexpectedly delightful, and he was already brimming with ideas of how to cause it again, even if it had been even partly put-on -and he wasn't going to rule that out- because he'd enjoyed having that sliver of power.

The slide of the Cat's fingers along his own neck was enough to have his lips parting on a quiet gasp, and that tease of the Cat's tongue had him freezing in place for a moment. Because while he knew that the Cat didn't actually intend to bite him -he was reasonably sure- and certainly had no intention of eating any part of him, and more than that had no way of knowing just how Edwin would react to teeth being brought into play, it was still enough to have his hand sliding down from the Cat's nape to press flat against his chest, not shoving him away but still a push all the same, sounding breathless as he managed a quiet: "That's quite enough of that."

[catting]

There's another sound bubbling up in the Cat's throat the longer his mouth stays on Edwin's, the longer his nails stay pressed against his flesh, the longer Edwin lets him touch and touches him back-- and when he feels Edwin's hand move he hasn't quite noticed the tension suddenly stilling the ghost's frame until he feels his hand pushing at his chest.

The noise turns from what probably would have been a groan of encouragement, a gasp at the very least, into an outright whine as his lips leave Edwin's and his breath comes heaving out of him. Had he honestly forgot to breathe back there? Had he really been too focused on everything else that he almost put basic survival instinct to one side in favour of not letting the moment wain? Shit, he really does have it bad, doesn't he?

He tips his chin up, not repairing the kiss because Edwin had broken it for a reason, but not drawing back either. Because Edwin hadn't actually said stop, and though he'd pushed him back, he hadn't pushed him away. Either way, he might as well shoot his shot.

"Enough of what?" He asks, breath ghosting the scant space between them, flicking open eyes he didn't realise he'd closed to assess Edwin's face, to watch his kiss-bruised lips as he elaborates: "The kissing, or the tongue?"

[technicallyhellbound]

"Both." It did take him a wildly-spinning moment of mental calculation to get even that much out, though once he'd actually started speaking he was less breathless than he had been at the outset, more sure of himself, enough so to actually elaborate in turn, since it wasn't entirely fair to only give the Cat partial information, "Though primarily the latter."

He knew he didn't owe the Cat anything more than that, but he also knew that if they were going to continue this kind of thing, and he had to believe that they were, if only because it was the Cat's chosen payment for assisting on cases -but also because he could see himself coming to crave the contact on some level as much as he would like to think otherwise- he considered only briefly before adding, a little more quietly though no less firm, "I will... react poorly to teeth being involved."

It was one of those things that he hadn't really considered would be combined, until just then, and the Cat hadn't even used teeth, only a tease of the tongue, and if that was all he'd intended to use, that would mean that Edwin had revealed a potential weakness, but it seemed to be the day for that, he hadn't needed to tell the Cat about the effects of ley-line magic on ghosts -though he likely would have guessed before long- but he had done anyway, a show of trust the same as this statement was.

[catting]

A part of him really is hoping that Edwin will only rule out a deeper kiss and won't allow the whole thing to end, perhaps too completely mesmerized by cataloguing this new feeling to want to put a stop to it so soon... But he doesn't get his wish, so he can't hold back the frustrated little huff he pushes out through his nose as he leans a bit farther backwards.

Primarily the latter, he'd said, so the Cat knows at least that the kiss hadn't been all that bad up until the point he'd tried to deepen it. Alright, he can work with that. Next time he'll draw the foreplay out a little more, make Edwin crave new stimulation or give him no choice but to think about what else their mouths can do when connected. He has no assumptions at all that Edwin could be averse to feeling a tongue on him for any other reason, so when Edwin speaks up again, the Cat blinks away his daydreaming about ghost boy make outs, and makes a small chirp of confusion.

"Teeth?" He repeats, then quirks an eyebrow. "Good to know, but I wasn't gonna bite you or anything at first base."

Not entirely true, because he has no idea what he might have done if Edwin had let his tongue into his mouth, but he's pretty sure he wouldn't have nipped him right away. Pretty sure.

[technicallyhellbound]

He narrowed his eyes just briefly at that statement, not that he didn't believe it, though that was certainly part of it, he didn't fully believe it, but it was the kind of thing that he didn't think the cat would have done deliberately, not at first, but he was a cat, and in Edwin's experience biting was a reflex for them.

More than that, however, the actual verbiage of the denial wasn't something he'd heard before, which was why his next question was, "Hang on, what do bases have to do with anything?"

Slang and various colloquialisms were one of those things that often escaped him, they had even back in his day, but modern sayings definitely confused him, and that was definitely not one he'd heard before, and while he'd heard of people 'having chemistry', he doubted it was a chemical base in question, because he'd never heard of anyone using the pH scale in regards to physical intimacy, but he also wasn't sure if that was just because he was out of the loop, as it were.

[catting]

The little narrowing of Edwin's eyes is as endearing as it is frustrating; annoying, because Edwin still hasn't got the hang of the fact that the Cat very rarely actually lies about anything, but endearing because it's so very Edwin that it douses some of the annoyance he'd felt both at being stopped and at being the subject of mistrust.

He's endeared only further by what Edwin says next, and his smile is affectionate as he laughs surprisingly warm for a Cat who'd been huffing mere moments ago.

"Ah- I guess it's too much of an Americanism for puppy to have walked you through something like this when telling you about his sexcapades." Because while the Cat doesn't know for certain that Charles has told Edwin the ins and outs (haha) of his experience when he was alive, he would easily put money on the possibility that he has. A guy with that kind of eagerness, that kind of physicality? Yeah. "They're stages in a relationship, or a potential one. First base is kissing, or making out, and because it spans such a wide variety, people can stay at first base for months, steadily getting closer and closer to second base, which involves a little more..." He raises his hands, tensing his fingers to imitate a crude chest grope.

"So we're at first base. And I know what you think about me and about my nature, but I've learned my lesson about giving you too much too fast. I have no intention of doing anything you won't like."

[technicallyhellbound]

He took the explanation in stride, head tilted just so and still leaning almost-comfortably back against the wall behind him, apparently in no hurry to slip the Cat's hold or to resume their walk just at the moment. He found himself oddly comfortable there which was one of those things he was going to study and pick apart and try to find the reasoning for later when he wasn't currently right in the middle of the situation in question.

It didn't take much for his line of understanding to flip over from 'science reference' to 'sports reference', and things definitely clicked into place far more easily with that understanding. He hummed a quiet acknowledgement of the reassurance, just nodding once, "That is heartening to hear." And it was, though he realized that was probably one of those things that sounded sarcastic coming from him, which was why he just continued, "Though now I have another question, and maybe you're the wrong person to ask," but clearly he was going to anyway, "but why do Americans make everything about baseball?"

[catting]

The Cat snorts, all previous frustrations seeming to bleed from him (though he'll definitely spend a little time curled up on his throne later berating himself for his misstep when he could have just as easily prolonged that wonderful kiss) as he laughs, warm and genuine, at Edwin's practical but frankly ridiculous question. There really is no-one in the world like him, who would use those lips that were, moments ago, practically making out with him to ask about baseball of all things. God, this Cat is so cooked.

"Definitely the wrong person to ask. It's just one of those things they relate to. Like how British people have the monopoly on tea, or crumpets, or whatever." He gives a little one-shouldered shrug, not really tied to any patriotism either way, being a magical Cat and all. "The concept is pretty universal, though; most dates amp up in physicality the more a pair see each other."

Well, maybe not in Edwin's time. Even thought he Cat was technically alive then, he didn't really pay all that much mind to actual conventions of relationships.

"Doesn't courting work like that? Or does someone have to promise a dowry before they can get a kiss on the cheek?"

[technicallyhellbound]

"Hardly the same thing." He replied to the first statement, because as far as he'd been able to determine, the idea of a monopoly on tea and crumpets -or whatever- was also an American assumption.

He shook his head at the actual question, "Those couplings were arranged and generally chaperoned by family rather than the would-be happy couple themselves. A kiss on the cheek would have been incredibly daring and certainly only after a proposal had been secured." His brow creased a little then, "I'm sure some families weren't quite so strict as the Paynes, but that's certainly what would have been expected of me. It's what was expected of my older brother, or would have been, once the war was over."

It occurred to him, as it always did, that he could just look up whether or not Bernard had survived, and if he'd carried on the family name, or if it had only been Daisy in the end, marrying into some other family, ending that branch of the Payne line. But as he always did whenever the thought occurred to him again, he decided that he didn't actually want to know, it wasn't as if he would gain any comfort from knowing one way or the other.

[catting]

He's endeared, as he always is, by Edwin's manner of explaining things, but it's hard not to find the subject matter amusing. Back then, normal society considered a cheek kiss daring, yes, as they were the kind of people who wouldn't let an unmarried woman roam the streets unsupervised... but the Cat knows all too well, from personal experience, that there was an undercurrent of supposed sin to that community as well as any other. The amount of men, for example, who'd take that arranged marriage and then spend off-evenings in molly house, was surprisingly high.

"Incredibly daring, huh? Well, by those standards, we're probably at like, second or third base at least. I dunno where making you moan against my mouth falls on that tier list."

He smirks, but he realises the fault in his teasing almost as soon as it leaves his mouth, because talking so bluntly about it only makes him want to do it again, and his eyes are suddenly transfixed on Edwin's mouth once more.

[technicallyhellbound]

He still wasn't sure how to quantify what actions to what bases, because that was -as far as he was concerned- an incredibly subjective, and also silly, way to categorize things.

So instead he just answered the almost-question, "I'm not saying it didn't happen, of course, but it's definitely the kind of thing that would have spelled trouble for everyone involved." He shook his head, "Of course, that was just for courting couples, a couple who was already engaged, or even married, a kiss on the cheek would be commonplace, hardly commented upon, depending on where they were and whether or not it was mixed company." It was all things he suspected the Cat knew, or at least had a reasonable idea of, but he didn't mind explaining it again, either.

Though it was easy to tell when the Cat's gaze dropped, and Edwin pressed two fingers lightly to his chin once more, not enough to push him away, but enough to keep him from advancing, "One. You've already had it."

[catting]

It's probably for the best that Edwin has put those fingers to his chin again, because watching Edwin's mouth move as he speaks - listening to what he's saying and taking it in because the Cat always cares what Edwin has to say, but with a definite glassiness to his eyes that betrays the twenty-or-so percent of his brain that is thinking of other things - has encouraged him to lean in ever so slightly, getting a good look at those lips and his teeth and that cute little mole on his chin and the paleness of his skin...

When he's stopped, he doesn't deflate exactly, but he does inhale and hold it, golden eyes flicking up to meet Edwin's green ones. A pause. It looks like the Cat is going to say something, and then visibly changes tracks.

"Well, it's a good thing that times have changed, then. Since we're neither married, nor courting. We'd be causing a real scandal." He doesn't back away, though, something simmering in him like a child told to wait their turn, something he wants to say or do or ask.

[technicallyhellbound]

"Indeed." He replied, though some small measure of amusement slipped into his tone and lit his expression, "Though as far as causing scandals go, a kiss like that would be the least of our worries."

It was definitely amusement, though it wouldn't have been some few months earlier. But that was Edwin, adjusting to a new flavor of normal much more quickly than most people would. Sure, he'd thought there were some things that were never to be spoken of, but they had been, and so far had turned out for the better for him, and that was really all he could ask for.

Because that was the other thing about Edwin, he would always be unflinchingly himself, especially now.

"Speaking of, the corporeality won't last much longer, if there's anywhere else you'd like to promenade me past while you can."

[catting]

The Cat considers Edwin's words, still feeling that strange bubbling desire to do something, though even he isn't quite sure what. It isn't until he thinks about using this brief moment of tangibility to get something out of Edwin he might never get again — like that kiss that will circle his thoughts for weeks and weeks after Edwin calls it a day and returns back to London like he always will — that inspiration strikes.

He still has Edwin boxed in against the wall, still has him pinned, even though Edwin is more like a rat with sharp teeth than he is a meek mouse. The Cat has used up his gifts, has nothing more to use as leverage, but perhaps he can shift the scales a little, if Edwin is feeling generous.

"I know I haven't earned it, but I wanna call in an IOU. I'll do whatever, whenever, and I won't bitch about it in the slightest, even if it's some dumbass menial task or like, sorting through a bunch of old shit to find one line of spellwork or whatever." He flicks his tongue over his scar, suddenly wondering if this is a good idea but figuring its much too late to back out now. "... Will you- Can you hold me?"

[technicallyhellbound]

The Cat effectively giving him carte blanche for a future task was a surprise, and certainly not one that he was going to turn away, especially when the request that followed before he could even ask, was as simple as it was.

Which was even more of a surprise, to be honest, but he did his best not to let that surprise show on his face even as he answered, a quiet, oddly gentle: "Of course."

Even penned in as he was, it was easy to just slip both arms around the Cat, drawing him just a little closer as he did, not even fully pushing himself up away from the wall, just straightening a little to bring the Cat to him. The embrace wasn't as rib-crushing as he would have used with Charles, but that was because he didn't think that the Cat needed that same sort of full-body pressure that Charles did, though if it seemed that he did, Edwin was fully capable of changing tactics as needed.

[catting]

He isn't sure if he regrets the request once it's out of his mouth, but he does feel a strange little pang, the sudden desire to run from such weak vulnerability, as if doing so will protect him from having to come face to face with it. That is, of course, until Edwin replies with such a soft tone that it's almost heartbreaking, and the Cat closes his eyes, succumbing to the feeling before it even happens.

Edwin is still so real against him, so present and so faintly warm, like the residual heat of electricity, or the spot on a pillow where a cat was once sleeping, now gone and left to slowly cool. He can feel him without the ley line's influence, of course, but this is different in that his energy isn't immediately recognisable as that of a ghost; the hum of feedback is missing, the slight fizz of static, the undefined boundaries that make the Cat want to push and test his hands against them. But God, this has its appeal, too.

His mind and heart are a jumble, but against Edwin's chest — because the Cat had every intention of hooking his chin over his shoulder, but found himself instead using their slight height difference to his advantage, tucking his face in against Edwin's collarbone instead — he feels a brief moment of pure blissful thoughtlessness. A purr starts to rumble through him, tentative and quiet, as a slow settling breath leaves his lungs. Ah, his senses seem to say. There's something you didn't know you were looking for.

[technicallyhellbound]

That purr probably shouldn't have been as much of a surprise as it was, given the givens, namely: that the Cat King was, in fact, a Cat. But even so it was still a surprise, if an unexpectedly pleasant one.

For obvious reasons, Edwin was generally cautious around cats, and didn't often -certainly not in recent memory- try to pet them, and even if he did, it was rarer still to get a purr, he'd always assumed that the fact of his being a ghost probably meant his touch felt a little like static, or perhaps that he was rubbing fur the wrong way even when he wasn't.

Which was part of the -but certainly not the whole- reason that he curled his arms just a little closer around the Cat, one hand sliding up to the middle of his back, keeping him close, as it seemed that he needed the touch more than he'd let on when asking for it, and while there was a chance that it was all a ploy, the request alone, not even counting the reactions otherwise, had felt genuine enough. More than that, Edwin was doing his best not to be suspicious of every request the Cat made, if only because that kind of constant suspicion said more about his character than it did about the Cat's.

[catting]

With eyes closed, it's easier to let his sense of touch take the forefront, and even easier still to let his mind - sprawling, fast-paced thing that it is - remain slow and languid, sinking almost entirely into a feeling he didn't realise he'd been starving without. Seduction comes easily to him, being enticing enough to overwhelm is natural, but seeking out quiet and tender comfort like this? It isn't something strays can find, and it's never easy to know if you are truly safe in the midst of it even when you do find it... and the Cat isn't fool enough to think this is safe, because he knows Edwin is only doing this because he asked him to-- but he hadn't asked Edwin to hold him closer, to put a hand to his back as if to silently reassure him.

The brilliantly smart but still somehow completely clueless ghost boy somehow figures out exactly what he needs without him so much as hinting at it. The jumbled feelings between his heart and head settle in his throat, and he lets out a weak little chirp, though he isn't sure why. Longing? A desperate need for this to never end? A desperate need to make it stop before he fully memorises the feeling of hands holding him so softly, so that it's all the more torturous to remember it when it's gone?

That's when he raises his hands to Edwin's chest, snaking them between their bodies to tense, just once, the briefest pulse of pressure, in the fabric of Edwin's coat, before he pushes him away just as gently. But it is, undeniably, a push. A break. Before this indulgence gets any worse.

When the Cat opens his eyes they are wide and glassy, and he looks at Edwin with an entirely unguarded expression he hasn't let anyone see in a long time.

"... Thanks." His eyes flit away, dancing down the alleyway to look at nothing in particular as colour starts to warm his golden cheeks, and the purr continues in his chest.

[technicallyhellbound]

Edwin did draw himself away again as the Cat instigated the breaking of closer contact, though he did rest his fingers just lightly against the back of that hand on his chest, "You're welcome." It was sincere in the same way the hand on the Cat's back had been. Sure, the cat had asked for the embrace, but it wasn't the kind of thing Edwin would have instigated on his own anyway, it wasn't really in his nature, though between Crystal's impulsive bear hugs and Charles' equally as impulsive, but somehow more exuberant -and sometimes lightning-quick- hugs in passing he was learning to be more of a hugger, but it was a long road.

He did, however, straighten a little, tugging his jacket straight if only to keep from grinding his knuckles in consideration and deep thought, not letting himself overthink before speaking again, "You know, our... arrangement, really only covers your predilection towards kissing. I'm hardly going to deny a hug, should you need one in future." His brow creased just a little, "Though I daresay Charles has had far more practice at it than I have, and I sincerely doubt that he would deny you either."

He'd be surprised by it, certainly, but that apparent, more than just occasional need for physical reassurance was something that Charles and the Cat had in common, and while Edwin wasn't about to say so aloud at the moment, he was reasonably sure that hugging it out might actually be good for the pair of them.

[catting]

He's relieved, at first, that Edwin doesn't seem to want to talk about it beyond pleasantries, and is in the process of racking his mind for a topic change when Edwin speaks again. Fuck. So maybe he does want to talk about it. Had it been that bad, had he really been so pathetic that it inspired Edwin of all people — Mister 'The Case Comes First' — to attempt to make it easier for him? It makes him feel miserable, only it also makes his heart feel light and tender, makes him feel seen in a way he hasn't for quite some time. Edwin has recognised a desire for closeness in him that's nothing to do with his obvious attraction to and frequently fumbled seduction of the ghost.

The mention of Charles, though, makes the Cat King scoff lightly. It had made him ridiculously vulnerable to share this with Edwin, someone he somewhat trusts to not yank on the strings of his heart (at least not purposefully), but Charles? Their relationship is easier now, certainly, but the Cat isn't sure either of them are ready for that kind of new direction. Although, he can't help but wonder if perhaps a little softness between their biting remarks might be the thing that makes it easier.

He grumbles a noise of consideration, purr starting to quieten, and then restructures his smile and directs his golden eyes back at Edwin.

"Does that mean you're not going to hold me to that IOU?"

[technicallyhellbound]

"Oh I absolutely am." Edwin replied, though there was definite amusement in the tone, not at the Cat specifically, but at the situation, "You made the offer before making the request, that's a binding agreement."

He did catch at the Cat's elbow lightly, expression and tone gone earnest once more, "But as to the rest," not that the Cat had said anything further, but Edwin had a better read on him now that they'd spent some time together, not just today, but cumulatively, "you are part of the Agency now, whether that was your original intention in offering help or not, and we look after our own."

Which was something that the Cat had undoubtedly seen already, that it wasn't just Edwin and Charles keeping each other safe, but Crystal's willingness to translate something modern into language they could understand, or using her abilities to put the fear of God -or just the fear of Crystal- into someone who was being an ass.

But also the fact that they would do -and had done- the same for her in a myriad of ways. Opportunities to do so for the Cat were much fewer and further between, in that none had come up so far, but Edwin expected they would sooner or later. That kind of thing always did.

[catting]

He laughs at his own expense, a little exhalation of air as he looks away, but his faux-curse on his inability to make effective deals is only for show. He doesn't mind being indebted to Edwin, if he's honest — of all the people to owe a favour to, Edwin is surely the least likely to actively take advantage, after all, though he's sure there's a lot more potential for it to be mind-numbing or tedious than anything too terribly exciting. But then, who knows, maybe it'll be something like that violin case, and he'll get a chance to have some fun and some quality time with the ghost out of it.

The Cat knows he should feel a flash of irritation at the implication that he needs looking after, that he needs soft physical contact more than this brief flash of weakness... but Edwin knows him better than that. Edwin caught on to the fact that he's lonely after a few brief meetings with him, saw through his flirting and saw the need in him for more than just a pretty face to look at. So, yes, while he knows he should feel affronted, he can't quite bring himself to go through with it.

"Alright," He says, eventually, trying not to think of Edwin going back to the office and announcing to the room at large that the Cat King craves cuddles so if any of them are feeling a little empathetic, to open their arms to him. Blegh. "Alright, I get it. I'll— let you know if I need one. In future." Probably.

[technicallyhellbound]

He nodded once, "See that you do." It really was a request despite the solidity of the statement, one that he softened just a little by adding, "Otherwise I'm going to have to guess, and that's going to become awkward for everyone involved." Not entirely true, because it wouldn't be guessing as much as it would be calculated deductive reasoning, but that wasn't as fun to lay claim to.

His head tilted, regarding the Cat once more, fingers still light against his elbow, "So, shall we continue our walk? Or did you intend to stay here a while longer?" The tone was nearly a tease, but the question itself was genuine enough, because he truthfully didn't mind either way, there was still time before he had to get back to the office -where he would not be making any announcements to the room at large- and there were no pressing activities to finish before he had to do so, at least so far as he knew.

[catting]

"Mm, what a dreadful thought, being victim to one of your guesses..." The Cat snorts, both at Edwin addressing his own shortfalls when it comes to gauging the emotions and emotional needs of those around him and — perhaps a bit sore about this one — the idea of Edwin acting upon physical contact first.

It hasn't really happened all that much, not where the Cat is concerned, though there have been more lingering touches, more readiness to be touched, more taking the offered lead and running with it once the first step has been made -- but very rarely does Edwin take that first step himself. Unless it's to tease, to be frustrating with the brush of lips across his cheek, his knuckles.

It helps to think Edwin is just like that, that it isn't personal and is merely a quirk, though it doesn't soothe the need entirely. But then, without something to chew over in his mind, who knows what kind of trouble this foolish Cat might get himself into.

"Well," He says amidst a sigh, looking around as if surveying the potential of their surroundings. "Even though this is one of my favourite alleyways, I've got no more paychecks to cash and my whole reason for having you here in the first place is spent, so... I guess we should keep on moving."

He pushes himself back, out of Edwin's personal space and away from the dwindling but definitely still present tangibility of his body, for the first time in what feels like hours, although logically it must only have been twenty minutes at most.

[technicallyhellbound]

It really was that Edwin was just like that, had been since before he'd reached the double digits, though he hadn't always been, he'd been an affectionate child. It was just that he'd learned -or rather had been taught- that kind of thing wasn't acceptable, and by the time he'd been sent to Saint Hilarion's the only person he still regularly hugged was his baby sister Daisy, because she was still a baby and didn't mind the way the rest of his siblings did. Mostly because she was still a baby, but he'd had to take what he could get.

Of course, with school and everything that had come of that, he'd definitely stopped being the one to initiate contact, and it was only in the past year or so that he'd started to re-calibrate when it would be acceptable to do so. It was slow going, fighting against decades of experience to the contrary, but he'd get there eventually.

For the time being, however, he just smiled, following the Cat back onto the main thoroughfare once more, pausing only once they had, brow creasing, "Hang on a tick, one of your favorite alleyways? You've more than one? Is that the kind of thing people keep track of?"