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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[catting]

The Cat's mind is full of thoughts of trades and bargains, of deals and promises, of hope and of disappointment. But also, amidst all those tumbling and tangled thoughts, the memory of a warm body against his, a soothing hand at his back, a soft touch to his elbow — not enough, never enough for his greedy soul, always wanting so much more than he deserves — along with the security of more, should he ever need it. It feels impossible to summon the words, even for someone who speaks truth so brazenly when it suits him, but it's certainly there, sitting warmly somewhere in his heart, keeping his senses alive in the memory of that touch.

So, when Edwin speaks up, the words take him out of his own thoughts, ennui thankfully paused until later when he's alone with no distractions, rather than dwelling on them now and wasting precious moments with Edwin.

"People, no. Cats, yeah. You've gotta know which are the best for scraps, which have too much foot traffic, which have good access to the rooftops... You'd be surprised how important alleyways can be to those who get around town using the shadows..." Is that the tinkling of a bell on a cat's collar? The pad of little feet scampering up a fire escape? The mysterious mewl of an eagle-eyed observer watching from somewhere dark and unseen? Who knows. "Maybe I'll give you a tour someday."

And then, because he can, because this is easy and practically expected conduct between the two of them now, the Cat slides his hand into the crook of Edwin's elbow as he guides him along, back into the thrum of Port Townsend, and eventually, back to his office and his friends in London. Until next time, that is.