"Station Cat-a-log

Stephen/Marcus; Rated R
Written for the Spring Secret Author Exchange on livejournal. I had to write "A day in the life of Beatrix, the station cat."

"When I play with my cat, how do I know that she is not passing time with me rather than I with her?" -- Montaigne

Ahhhh... morning on the station. Most people prefer the nightlife, but give me the morning any ol' day.

Now I just have to meow a couple of times to let Garabaldi know I'm ready to leave. He's not too bad, for a human. I spend the night with him sometimes: he gets the pleasure of my company and I end up with a nice comfy bed to sleep in.

He finally got the message and after I thank him with a rub against his ankles, it's hasta la vista baby, and I'm off!

I love having the run of the station. I know every inch of its eight kilometers by heart and the inhabitants almost as well. If I wanted to, I could be the best snitch Garabaldi's ever had.

Take Ivanova for example: there's more to her than meets the eye, and I'm not just talking about her "limited" psi abilities. She's got the hots, big time, for the Ice Queen. Now there's one I stay as far away from as possible. Something about her gives me the creeps. More than once my feline instinct has saved me from certain ruin, and it flashes "danger" when I see her coming.

"Hey, Beatrix, ready for your milk and eggs?"

A voice smoother than a can opener is attached to legs that go on forever. Marisol is the pastry chef at the Fresh Air Restaurant. It's not open for breakfast, but that's never stopped Marisol from whipping up something just for me. And milk and eggs sound heavenly right about now.

I purr and look up at her with food-deprived eyes and am rewarded when her soft hands pick me up and rub me against her cheek. She smells of cinnamon and honey and yeast, and I kick up the motor in my throat a notch.

"That tickles, you little minx! Come on while I get your food ready. Just make sure you stay in the office; if Andre ever found cat hair in the stores, we'd both be in hot water."

Ha! She knows Andre is just a big crème puff! The only thing he's ever put in hot water is a lobster.

Now, after breakfast I like to take what I call my "morning constitutional." It's my time to check up on what happened overnight and touch base with "my humans." Some non-humans, too.

I guess my favorite person on the station would be Ambassador D. She's pretty cool and since Minbari's have no pets that even remotely resemble cats, I'm somewhat of a novelty to her. When I deign to visit her quarters, I can always count on loads of attention and exotic Minbari delicacies. As long as Lenier has cooked, that is. Ambassador D might be a first-rate diplomat, but her cooking leaves much to be desired.

I'd be hard-pressed to pick out my favorite place on the station. I love them all. Even "Downbelow". Sure there are a few unsavory denizens, but for the most part, the Lurkers are nice to me. If they've a crumb to share, they readily offer it, and in return sometimes I bring a few of them a treat or two I've "acquired" from one of the station restaurants.

I've learned over the years at which places I'm accepted and which places would just as soon cook me as feed me.

And speaking of feeding me... I think I'll check in at the Medlab. I think I heard Doc mention something the other day about getting in a package of goodies from home. Even if there's nothing in it for me, it'll be good to "visit" for a while. On occasion I've helped Doc out by providing what he calls "pet therapy:" supposedly having me nearby helps perk up some of the patients. What can I say? When you're the cat's meow... well, you know the rest.

Ah... what's this? Doc's not alone. Seems Marcus, or as I like to call him, Byron, came to visit him. And I use the word visit in the loosest of ways. Though I can definitely see what the attraction is on Doc's part - those long dark locks, the brooding eyes, the voice... if I wasn't a feline, I'd take a shot at him myself.

"We can't keep meeting like this."

"Why not? We're alone, unless you count Beatrix. And I don't think she's going to be telling anyone about us."

"That's just it; I don't want to have to hide our relationship."

"I told you I don't think people would be as open minded as you seem to --"

"You're underestimating them. Look, Stephen, I want to shout to the world how much you mean to me. I admit the sneaking around was exciting and erotic at first, but now... I want you by my side all the time. The Zocalo, the Zen Garden, The Green Tiger...I don't want to pretend we're nothing more than friends anymore."

You tell him, Byron!

"See, Beatrix is meowing her approval, too."

"Okay, okay, I get the message. How about you join me for dinner tonight. At the Zocalo Café. And wear that sexy black outfit."

"Mmmm... You mean the one I wore when we snuck into the empty zero-g cargo bay and..."

Okay, there's only so much a girl can listen to without feeling like she's intruding. I think it's time for me to hightail it out of here and find my adventure somewhere else. I get the feeling that Doc's going to be busy for a little while. The way they're looking at each other... I've seen hungry alley cats that didn't look so ravenous. I just hope they remember to lock the door behind me!

Hey, maybe I can go see what Vir is up to. He's always got an amusing story -- and it's usually about something he did or something that happened to him -- and maybe I can charm him outta some tapote. Ah, Centauri cuisine is to die for! Thank goodness I've still got all nine of my lives left! Green 2 here I come!


Copyright May 2005 by Cait N.

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