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Caring for the furry	By : Playmara Category: Anita Blake > Threesomes Plus Views: 3427 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Anita Blake series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Caring for the furry
- 1
For Marasmine, who wrote the most lovely chapter about Jean-Claude and chocolate ever.

My most heartfelt thanks for the incredible fast beta reading Noah/Vail did with unbelievable patience!!!
If you spot any more mistakes they are all mine, and mine alone. I am greedy!

Also thanks for the impromptu help in the chat from RedRoseVertigo and some ideas Micahskitty fed me nearly a year, ago.

Last but not least thanks to my cats Flores and Lili who showered me with ideas
^^

(and there is no really smut inside here, only a cat trying what male cats like to try)

The story is written only for the pure joy of writting. No money is made from it, and if you are not familiar with Laurell K. Hamiltons great work, go and raide you nearest book store!

~~~~~ *** ~~~~~

I was seated at my kitchen table and had buried my head in my hands.

It was a grey evening in mid November. Rain pattered on the window and a biting cold wind danced around my isolated house. Everyone unfortunate enough to be outside would be wet to the skin and chilled to the bone.

I knew, because I ventured outside a short while ago to escape the chaos around me, and in hope that fresh air would clear my head a little bit. Outside I could not even see the subdued light of the full moon that had already risen in the afternoon. The clouds haunting the sky obscured the celestial body, and not a single star was to be seen either.

The weather presented itself as desolate as I could not help to feel myself.

To all intents and purposes this was the time of year, which should grant me some time to relax. After Halloween it was normally a slow time for raising the dead. Bert had learned the lesson not to bother me with unnecessary paperwork work the hard way, but he had learned it well. It was in his best interest to keep me in good humour. Considering the fact that I was unusually gifted and hardly anyone else was able to do my work with equally satisfying results, if at all, he made concessions to keep me. Bert loved money way too much to risk his cash cow over a stupid little quarrel about some unattended papers, which suited me just fine.

Without any stress in my main job that provided me with my livelihood, all that remained were my even more unusual sideline jobs. Whenever the police encountered supernatural phenomena with either distinct long canines, more fur then they could safely handle or other monster qualities, my phone rang without fail, so that I could pull their chestnuts out of the fire for them. I was the local vampire hunter, and I was damned good at what I was doing.
Even the vampires agreed, at least those who had not become my customers and died prematurely. I truly earned myself the nickname Executioner over the last couple of years.

In addition I was always called into the scene whenever a weranimal started to misbehave. Murdered citizens tend to make the authorities nervous. No matter how strained the situation between me and the spook-squad members got, because they thought I was spending way to much time socialising with the monsters, in such situations I was still sought-after. I was not complaining, even with all the differences and alienation dividing us I counted many of them as my friends. Working in a frosty atmosphere and without being thanked for my troubles still beat the hell out of attending their burials, just because they lacked the necessary equipment or were forced to fight something they could not understand and thus not handle.

To prevent my life from becoming boring I had some personal enemies as well. Some of them would love to see me dead. In the course of time I stepped on some peoples toes. For example Edward’s psychopathic friend, who claimed that he and I were soul mates, would not take no for an answer and decided that I was either to hunt with him or to be his prey.

Right now I was fairly convinced that the whole world had conspired against poor little me.

And I do not refer to the vampires I was supposed to slay, my ever ongoing quarrels with Richard, Asher’s touchiness, Belle’s latest and most unwelcome visit in our beautiful city, were-animals running amok, psychopaths crossing my way at every turn, killer zombies, and just being over-worked or sleep
deprived. Those are parts of my life I got used to a long time ago.

My usual enemies got reinforcement and their newest addition proved invincible so far. It drove me already to the brink of insanity and despair. All in a single night that could not even be called old.

I bet my hand with my favourite coffee cup would have shaken noticeably, but my cup had been the latest victim of my new enemy. You ask what brought the unfaltering Anita Blake, Zombie Queen and vampire hunter extra-ordinary to her knees and turned her into a helpless bundle of nerves? You will not believe me.

The weather!

The ongoing autumn storm did not content itself with shaking the treetops, to reap them of their remaining red and golden splendour or to tear some shingles from the roofs. No, my usual luck prevented that, the storm just had to carry dark rain clouds, heavy with water in our direction. From one horizon to the other nothing but those angry clouds above, and for some days now a real deluge was raining down on us, giving the impression that God decided to let all life on earth drown again.

In the past I loved this kind of weather. One of my earliest memories is how I am sitting on the window sill beside my mother, snuggled in my security blanket and a cup of steaming hot chocolate with whipped cream next to me while we watched how thunderbolts penetrated the pitch darkness outside.
Inside the warm house, it was fun to watch the rain, to see how the big drops tumbled down in the puddles that had formed on the street and created big bubbles. Dozily I pressed closer in the safety of mommy’s arms, while she told me the most fantastic fairytales about witches in the mountains cooking whole fog banks in their cauldrons and careless clouds bumping into each other and causing lightning and thunder.

Thanks to my mother I never experienced fear of the elements of nature, quite the contrary I liked them very much; they reminded me of some of the happiest moments of my live.

Today my views concerning storms, especially those accompanied by water, changed drastically. Everything started so harmlessly, as every true catastrophe does. I had gotten comfortable on the sofa in our spacious living room, and had started to treat my browning high-power to the maintenance she was entitled to. Never get sloppy with your weapons, you life might depend on their functionality. And believe me you will want to kick your own butt if you are facing an angry vampire, ready to rip out your throat and in that precise moment your weapon decides to retaliate for your month of neglect and shows it’s displeasure by failing to work.

I do not know how long Micah had been standing in the doorframe with an unusually serious expression on his face before I noticed him.

I put my weapon and the cleaning equipment down, careful not to smear oil on the clean cushions. Nathaniel would not have had exactly my head if I did, but he had advanced far enough from the submissive mess he had been, when I met him the first time, to let Micah and I know when we did upset him. He was usually distraught when we left muddy foot prints on his clean floor, wrecked his kitchen or left stuff lying around. It might have to do with his terrible childhood and the dirty apartment he was forced to live in, but he really abhorred untidiness. To spare his feelings, and to show him that we recognized the efforts he made in playing housewife to me and in a lesser degree to Micah, we did our best not to undermine his efforts. In addition it had the added bonus for Micah and I to spare us sad looks out of sappy lilac eyes, every puppy would envy, and prolonged sighs.

With my now free hands I motioned for Micah to join me on the sofa and fixed my attention completely on him. When something was troubling him, it was better to know about the upcoming disaster in time. Micah was my boy-friend and my Nimir-Raj. On several occasions he had proved to be a good leader for our pard. He was incredible considerate, even-tempered and he always exercised the necessary caution when safety was concerned. I realized I could spare myself a lot of worries if I heeded his warnings and listened closely to his advice.

”Tough day?” I asked to start a conversation in the hope of making it easier for him to speak up. The lines of worry around his sensual mouth had me worrying in turn, so I tried to speed things up a little. Patience was not my strong suit and the uneasy feeling that constricted my stomach and had ice cubes running down my spine did not help matters.

"No, not yet." He mumbled, and avoided meeting my eyes.

I suppressed the urge to tap my fingers on the table, how difficult could it be to spit out what kind of monster this time wanted to rip out our guts? For some reason I could not help to get the impression that Micah felt guilty about something.

"Well, I guess I should have told you a long time ago," he began finally, clearly uncomfortable in his own skin. The thought *here it comes* appeared unbidden in my mind before I could push it aside.

Since I met Micah, I had waited for the other shoe to drop. He was too good to be true. Or have you ever met a guy who put your slightest whim before his own needs, who was encouraging but not demanding, willing to share you with other boys, never talked back, was a master at back rubs and did not only carry the waste outside but did more then his fair share at housework without the slightest catch?
I was not sure at what point in my life, but a long time ago I lost my belief in unconditional love.

”There are some star constellations that interfere with the power the moon has over us and thus affect our change.” Micah explained. “I should have remembered to tell you earlier, but I keep forgetting that your beast is not like ours. If you would shift your shape at every full moon like we do, you would have felt the speciality of the upcoming full moon yourself.”

My eyes were at severe danger to pop out of my head. “Are you telling me, that every shifter in town is going to be dangerous tonight?” I pressed out between gritted teeth, imagining the bloodbath, all the furballs in town could cause, when they lost control at the same time. The police might be able to handle one or two of them on their own. But not all the hundreds of shape shifters that lived in our midst, more or less hiding their illness to avoid discrimination. Many of them were my friends, and I did not want them hurt.

There were less then two hours left before the moon would rise, it would be next to impossible to take precautions in the required extent.

”No, no.” Micah shook his head violently, in the face of such accusations. “You do not truly believe, we would be still in town, if we would loose control like that, do you? Richard, Raphael and I would have collected our people days ago to hunt in some uninhabited place far away from any human settlement, if that were the case. Please, give us credit for taking some responsibility.”

Ok, he had me there. I was so used to be the one to handle everybody’s crap, and to be expected to rescue to world after everybody else fucked up, that it did not penetrate my mind once, that perhaps not all shape shifters might handle their illness with the needed seriousness but their leaders most certainly did. I am a bit paranoid, so what? It extends life expectancy considerably.

”For us it will be more like not having access to our human thoughts as we are used to” Micah continued as if I had never interrupted him. He was smart enough not to expect an apology from me, at least not a voiced one. Something else I was not too good at.

”I only experienced such a change once before, and it turned out that our emotions were still our own, but otherwise we acted like overgrown cats, perhaps a little smarter as them. But we were not overcome by a killer instinct like the newly turned suffer from.”

”So far I fail to see the problem.” I admitted. What had he worked himself up over so much? It was not like I wanted to discuss our budgeting with him and Nathaniel when they were turned.

Nathaniel had walked into the room. An enticing sight, not only because of my favourite penguin mug filled with fresh made coffee and real cream in his hand. He moved with the elegance of a dancer and his motions where fluid, he glided more then he walked, and when he did it deliberately he could even give Jean-Claude a run for his money. He handed me the coffee and placed a tray of home made cookies on the table.

”It is raining!” He stated the obvious. “Our fur will be soaked, when we go outside in the forest, and we will get dirty all over. All the water turned the forest soil into one big puddle of mud.” He added and his brows drew together until he was frowning and cherry red lips turned into a slight pout.
”It will be horrible” Nathaniel concluded in pitiful voice.

”Let me get that straight, “I laughed, “all this is about that the two of you want to stay inside tonight?”

They nodded in unison.

”The others stay in their own homes today.” Micah supplied. ”Nathaniel is right, it is really too uncomfortable to hunt outside, and if one takes our properly diminished faculties for logical thought into account it might even be the safest option. We thought about asking some of the others if we could sstay with them, but their apartments are all rather small.”

”Stop!” I interrupted Micah. “This is your home as much as mine, and if the two of you are not going to eat me, I am fine with you staying here. It is not like I suffer from a cat hair allergy or something.”

I have often been wrong in my life, but seldom as wrong as in that night. I was not going to be fine, with the two big felines at home. But my consent to let them stay showed two things quite clearly: I loved them both, and when I was small I had only had a dog but never a cat, and I did not know what I was going to get into.

At that time I was still blissfully oblivious to the fact that my private hell was waiting for me, with no chance of escape at all.

Flight, as tempting as it sounded later that night was not feasible, and not because I am too stubborn to consider a tactical retreat when it is necessary, but I feared that not much of our home would be left in one piece if I left the two furballs unattended. Not to mention in what condition Micah and Nathaniel might have been the following day if left to their own devices, exited cats of prey with a considerable urge to move are not made to be kept inside a house. My worry for their wellbeing chained me effectively to the house, no matter how enticing Jean-Claude's cosy and most importantly cat-free bedroom seemed at that moment.

So I was stuck babysitting, and found myself with two options available: I could blame my continuing misery on the two pony sized leopards who were hell bent on making my life as difficult as possible. Unfortunately that would force me to shoot them both, something I would prefer to avoid as under normal circumstances I like the company of my two men and would miss Micah's calming presence and Nathaniel silent support dearly.

Or I could blame the weather! The only drawback there, a bullet would solve nothing and I doubt I would impress the storm with my Browning. My only hope left was that the night sooner or later had to end.

Before the moon rose and they were forced to shift Nathaniel left Micah and I alone on the sofa to prepare the bathroom for them to change. He chose the room claiming that tiles were easier to clean than carpet and Micah left the decision to him.

Methodically Nathaniel covered the whole floor with plastic sheets and towels to absorb the sticky liquid that was an unavoidable by-product when weranimals transformed to their alter egos. Somehow all of them could avoid stepping into the wetness. I also have never seen one whose fur was covered with the yucky stuff, but they always left a puddle of the gooey substance behind.

Both Nathaniel and Micah undressed shortly before the moon showed itself on the grey sky. Late autumn and winter are great seasons for vampires, even the weaker ones wake up much earlier and have to retire later. Jean-Claude enjoyed the fact that he was not trapped in the catacombs of the circus for hours after he had woken up to avoid the displeasing experience of becoming deep fried.

For my Leopards it sucked. Already in the afternoon they were forced into animal form, and would be trapped there until the moon would finally set the next day. Micah did not say one word about it, but I knew he was depressed and worried. Prolonged periods of being a leopard increased the danger for him to lose more of his humanity. He feared that one day he might not be able to come the whole way back. He suffered enough from his kitty cat eyes, but I did not know how to help him. It took me quite some time to break his habit of wearing sun glasses even at home.

I am not going into what the added hours of forced existence as a monster did to Richard's moods.

Micah and Nathaniel disrobed in our bedroom and I stood in the doorframe and watched, I did not intend to, but when I passed the corridor and caught sight of them I could not resist the two eye-candies. I knew they did not mind my appreciative gaze. Shifters were as a rule not very self-conscious when it came to nakedness. It had always been my own prudishness that had stood in the way, never theirs.

Nathaniel's auburn hair reached below his knees, nearly down to his ankles and since he had unbraided it already it tumbled down the elegant curve of his neck. His alabaster skin looked delicate and fragile as the petal of a flower, and I could not keep my eyes from every new inch he bared, shimmying provocatively out of his pants. The last to go where his lilac silk briefs and I fought hard to keep breathing. No matter how often I watched Nathaniel undress it always made my skin tingle and tightened my nipples and other places.

A slight whiff of vanilla reached my nose when he walked up to me and I inhaled deeply. First I had thought it was caused by some soap or shampoo he used, but I was wrong it was Nathaniel's very own smell. In the course of the last months I have started to associate it with home.

Micah was smaller than Nathaniel, his brown hair lying in soft curls on his broad shoulders. Light was reflected in his emerald kitty cat eyes, which gave his appearance a mystic quality. I could drown in those alert and wise eyes that at times possessed a sensual expression only reserved for me.

He was down to forest-green coloured briefs and the materiel stretched over Micah's generous endowment.

Several things I could to with my two men came to mind, but there was not enough time left. I ended up sandwiched between Jean-Claude and Asher once, as we disregarded the closeness to dawn in our desire to play. Do not get me wrong I love them both, but being trapped between their lifeless and cooling bodies creeped me out. I doubted I would feel better with fully changed Leopards in bed with me. So no dabbling with my boys when we were that close to the forces of nature they were subjected to. I sighed and went back in the living room to wait for my leopards to reappear.

Raphael’s rats had not liked it, when outsiders witnessed their change. It seemed to be something very personal for them, and to watch was to intrude into something private. At least that’s the impression I got as we met the first time and they asked me very firmly to turn around when they had to shift. Maybe I got it wrong and they only thought it looked yucky and might increase my latent prejudices against were animals. Perhaps they were uncomfortable to be seen at their most vulnerable.

I am pretty sure that while the change lasts they are nearly as defenceless as the weaker shifters after their transformations, who tend to be so exhausted that they would not wake up if someone put fire on their beds. Not a nice feeling to be so helpless for a guy who can bench press a grand piano barehanded, even if it lasts only for some seconds. Experience shows that some seconds are more then enough time to die a most unpleasant death.

I was not sure if that applied in any way to my Leopards. But Micah barely ever told me when something rubbed him the wrong way, sometimes it was a blessing not to have to worry about the insecurities and spleens of one more of my boys. At other times it was plainly disturbing how much personality Micah lacked with his ‘long as I may stay and no one tries to kill me, I am fine’ mental stance.

To count on Nathaniel to call me off, when I did something unpleasant to them would be foolish.
My intuition told me to stay out of the way, and so I did. To exercise some consideration could not be wrong.

I had not too long to wait before the first predator entered the living room with slow deliberate movements. Perhaps he was intent not to spook me, remembering my happy trigger finger. Or it was just that the familiar rooms looked different from his angle, and his enchanted senses were hit by a variety of new impressions making him cautious. It was breathtaking to see the restrained power in his movement, how the muscles worked under the skin in slow motion for the foot placement, how his weight shifted.

Depending on how the light hit Micah’s coat the colours of his fur varied from cream to pale gold and he was patterned with black rosettes. His head, lower limbs and belly were spotted in solid black. His skull was massive, giving room for attachment of powerful jaw muscles. His green kitty cat eyes I was so used to see in a human face gazed back at me, looking strangely out of place. Somehow he felt like Micah and at the same time I wondered how much of him was really in there.

He approached me ever so slowly, stopped about two feet away from me, and sniffed. I kept as still as I could, the solid weight of my Browning comforting on my side. I am not sure what I expected to happen, but the Leopard started to purr. A deep vibrating sound, that could not only be heard but also felt. He settled down beside me, curled up and one of his massive paws and his head come to rest on my leg. Tentatively I reached out to touch the shinning coat. The topmost layer was coarse, not soft at all. But the deeper my hand buried itself in the fur the softer it got, until cotton was rough textured in comparison to the fluffy hairs in my hand. The purr intensified.

”Micah?” I asked, unsure of how much he could comprehend, would he recognise his own name? I wished I had read less books about wolf and more about leopards. It would have been nice to know what to expect and to read their body language better.

The huge Leopard nuzzled my leg and pushed against my hand, to get me to continue the patting. That was easy enough to interpret, he realized I had spoken to him and secondly it felt good what I was doing. I complied, and let my hand wander trough the warm mass of softness between his ears, down to the short hairs close to his nose. Usually were-anything’s did not care much to be treated like ordinary pets, it was humiliating to them, but right now Micah seemed to be content with what I was doing.

A second animal appeared in the door, less power trickled down from him than I could feel on the one half lying in my lap. What Nathaniel lacked in power he more than made up in beauty. He was not ordinary spotted; he was head to toe deep black.

Darker than raven wings, darker than coal, even darker than night itself. His coat seemed to absorb all light around him, but somehow he seemed to glow from the inside. I know that sounds contradictory. The fact remains that there were blue highlights that shimmered for seconds in his coat whenever he moved with the natural grace and ease of all cats.

The spectacle was absolutely stunning.

Meanwhile I had learned that being black was not so unusual for a natural leopard, they were not a subspecies or something. Their colour variation was simply caused by a regressive genetic trait. Spotted leopards could have black cubs. Perhaps the same rules governed the colours of newly bitten were leopards, something in the bite could carry the regressive trait and if the genetic material already in the human acted with it, the end product turned out to be a vision in black.
It would make sense, because as human Nathaniel was one of the fairest beings I knew. One would never guess that his alter ego was black.

Nathaniel’s lilac eyes had turned into large green cat eyes, which stood out of his face like liquid emeralds.

Obviously he had fewer reservations about spooking me and did not feel the need to take in his surroundings. At that point I had not figured it out but he was acting more like a carefree kitten or a half grown at best, something he had missed out in his human childhood.

He was not exactly bouncing, but close to it as he suddenly took three smaller jumps to my other side, and turned on his back, presenting me with his tummy to rub it, all in one fluid motion. His excessively long tail was tucked between his hind legs and his front paws crossed over his chest. He was completely relaxed, and only having him as a comparison showed me that some tension had never left Micah’s muscles. He had made himself comfortable as well, but had stayed alert and ready to act if the need arose.

On Nathaniel’s belly the fur was not covered by anything coarse, the need for protection from wind and rain was lesser there, and all my hand met caressing was silken softness. He also started to purr, but it was completely different from the sound Micah made. While the spotted leopard indicated his pleasure clearly his purr was contained, aristocratic, almost sublime. Nathaniel’s purr had a strong resemblance to a power saw, at its highest setting, completely uninhibited.

The urge to press my ear to his chest to hear the strange sound direct at its source and to let my cheek luxuriate in the downy hairs become stronger, fortunately I resisted it.

I was lucky that I did not move my head in the position listening on his chest would have required. Nathaniel stretched his body further, until every fiber in him must have been at its limit. It was amazing how long he could make himself in order to create more space I could pet and scratch and caress, even his neck was bent back presenting his throat.

The second I ran my hand from the underside of his muzzle down to his abdomen he started to move his paws in a rhythmic motion in the air. They reached out and constricted over and over again in the air above him, just where my head would have been. He had absolutely no intention to injure me, not in his wildest dreams, hurting someone on purpose was just something that was not in Nathaniel, but getting the massive paws thrust in my face was nothing I was too keen on, it would have hurt like hell.

Getting to be Nimir-Ra for real was also not on my to-do list for today. Warily I watched the awesome claws that peeked out of the soft toes. Getting infected with whatever caused one to be a were leopard was a lot harder than catching the stuff turning you in other kinds of the temporal furry, like wolf, but I felt not so lucky that I wanted to chance it. I was a wee bit less human since my birth than I wished to be, so no need to add to my list of oddities and properties every full blown monster was envying me for.

”Be a tad more careful there!” I admonished the black beast, and ensured that my arm would not get in the danger off getting in the way of Nathaniel’s front legs, that kept making the same motion over and over. One of his paws would have easily covered my entire palm, perhaps my entire hand.

One of my hands kept cuddling the black leopard, but a big part of my attention went back to the other animal. I took time to inspect Micah closer. I was so close to him that I could make out several extra long hairs in his eyebrows, serving to protect the eyes and assisting movement through vegetation in darkness. There were also particularly long white whiskers growing out of the skin around his muzzle. It was childish I know, my hand nearly moved on its own accord and I could not help myself, I just had to touch the tip of one whisker. It was like a small child would reach out for an interesting looking thing like flame, no matter how often the parents tried to warn it off.

Micah tensed the second my finger touched him ever so lightly, he nearly jumped. He glared at me, somehow he managed to convoy a very human expression through the rather stiff cat visage, he was irritated. I bet he would have raised an eyebrow at my behaviour, if he could. An accusatory meow left his muzzle, and he was about to get up.

”Sorry. It won’t happen again.” I mumbled sheepishly. My apology made him settle back, but he kept his eyes half lidded watching me closely out of the corners.

Interesting, when Micah the man would have let me touch him when ever and where ever I wanted to, no matter if he truly liked it or not, no objections would been forthcoming from him. Micah the leopard on the other hand permitted himself to disapprove of my actions. As a cat he had his own preferences, opinion, and his very own mind about how things should be.
Maybe only instincts kicked in, but the difference in him was painfully obvious to me.

Could his really disturbing experience with Chimera the reason for all his insecurities? He struck me as emotionally crippled, and I started to speculate that maybe events in his childhood might have started him on his path. It is hard to name what is wrong with Micah, he seemed to be insecure, he did not trust us to love him if he was anything but absolutely compliant. He clung to our small family somehow more than even Nathaniel, he was not being himself but turned into what we needed or wanted him to be for us. Like he was anxious not to be pushed away or to be left alone, you get my drift. I barely knew anything about Micah’s past and virtually nothing about his childhood. But I bet his problems rooted there.

Maybe group therapy for me and the leopard’s would be a good idea, and when we are at it we could invite Richard’s wolves and the vampires as well.
Every therapist would be having a field day if he could get hold of us, or he would take to his heels. His reaction would be depending strongly on how sane he himself was, I dare say.

During all this, Nathaniel had wriggled and shifted under my absentminded administrations, unable to resist the opportunity he finally raised his head and nosed my hand in the appropriate direction. For a fraction of a second his warm breath stroked over my arm.

Content with his achievement he settled back on the floor to enjoy.

My right hand encountered something strange, slippery and void of any fur. I yelped and stared at him.
I acted without thinking and smacked his side not too lightly. “Behave yourself, okay? You should be ashamed of yourself!”

Unintentionally I had moved my hand over places better left untouched. Where moments before Nathaniel’s chest and upper belly region had been, his manoeuvring had placed his half retracted penis, and his rather large testicles. With my words his dreamily expression changed. I could not place the look in his eyes exactly, but it was somewhere between impish and sheepish. Right this moment I would have paid good money, to know how much more than normal cats they understood.

Nathaniel did it clearly on purpose, but could I actually blame him?

Should I find out that I could hold him responsible, he was neck deep in trouble!

Micah had turned his head to watch our interaction, my squeamish reaction to finding my hand full with animal genitalia and found it to be extremely hilarious.
I looked in his direction and rolled my eyes. “Nice, that we could do something to amuse you.”

If it was physically possible for him, Micah would have burst out laughing at this point. Robbed of that all the contained mirth caused him to sneeze.

I admit I had Nathaniel’s member more than once in my hand, in my mouth and in other places and I have never complained before. He was a great lover and knew just what to do, to please his partner. I preferred not to think about how he had come to the knowledge and experience to do that, being an under aged street whore only to be later pimped out by Gabriel, must have been unbearable. It had broken him to the point where I doubted that he was salvageable.

Fact was, his member had never looked like an astonishingly thin, incredible pink, worm before when we had sex. Intercourse while he was half turned was a concession on my part, one I made only because I realized he needed not only to be told but to be shown that he was wanted! Not only his gorgeous body, people had paid handsomely before to touch and watch, but all of him.

He had been capable of thinking clearly back then though, and his member had been much the same as ever, just some downy black hairs more down there, tempting me to play with them. That was something I could live with if his happiness depended on it.

It was nothing he could count us to do on a regular basis, but at least I was not completely opposed to the idea. Mainly because it had still been Nathaniel, no matter the changes his body had run through so far.

Giving an animal a hand job was more than I was comfortable with, you have to draw the line somewhere.

Unhappy and unappeased I kept mumbling und grumbling. But otherwise got a hold of myself, I noticed the hurt and lost looked that had appeared in Nathaniel eyes.

He was so used to all kind of rejections and took them to heart anyway. The last thing I needed right now was the jaded look back in Nathaniel’s kitty cat eyes, that I had worked so hard for to ban out of his human ones.

Shit, would he remember the happenings of the night, when he shifted back? I should have asked Micah, before they disappeared in the bathroom.

The black leopard rolled over and clambered to his feet, I had no chance to stop him. His ears were laid back close to his head, the end of his tail twitched nervously. He had angered me and he had realized it. He crouched down and crept out of the room to hide somewhere out of sight.

Nice, my men had lost all common sense, but it was easily as ever to hurt their feelings. Just freaking great!

That was the moment it dawned on me, that the night might turn out a trifle more challenging than I had credited it for.

Remembering a piece of advice, which have proved useful before in difficult situations, I tried to face one crisis and problem after another. If it worked for pissed off monsters who wanted to kill me, then it might work to successfully handle upset, playful, agitated, offended, wailing, uncooperative and touchy wereleopards. At least that was the theory, I did not take into account that it took considerably less time to plainly shoot my adversaries than to take care of someone, give comfort and smooth ruffled feathers.

So this night the difficulties had to get in line to wait until I was able to grace them with my attention, even if I started to solve the first one right away.

Unsure how to handle an upset and properly sulking Nathaniel under the current conditions I figured that it might be best, to start with following him into the kitchen. To call after Nathaniel would have done me no good. I was no expert in the behaviour of big cats, I did not even know much about cats in general but I knew that obedience was nothing they excelled at, even at the best of times. I had to handle an upset specimen, lucky me.

Seeing what he was actually doing in there, if he was hiding and seeing his body language in general might give me a clue about what to do. Some positions cat’s took to show their emotional disposition are quiet easy to read, so I would give it a try.

Especially to witness how he reacted to my voice when I talked to him promised to be helpful: If nothing else worked I could try bodily contact. In human form my leopards need more than shallow words to take something seriously. Like something deep down in them could not understand what was said to them or did not trust words alone. Touches and gestures were very important to unite a group of were animals, to keep them together and to initiate trust between the individuals. Touches also served to convey important messages like being forgiven, being wanted and accepted and to offer protection to a weaker member and to comfort.

Yes, to cuddle and touch my leopards has worked wonders before and back then they had even been human. I strongly assumed that being a cat right now had taken over completely the structure of thoughts Nathaniel was able to have.
I had become good at playing touchstone under Marianne’s guidance; I might as well use it to my advantage. Speaking of Marianne why had she not warned me that something like that was going to happen?
Or were only the leopards affected and not the wolves? Her area of expertise was mainly werewolves, after all.

Micah surely could handle himself for some minutes alone, without getting into trouble, I hoped. Lazy as he looked all of a sudden, he might even curl into a tight ball and fall asleep right away.

I sighed and very carefully took Micah's paw in my hand to move it from my leg so I could get up. He pulled his paw close to his chest and hid it under his chest like the other one. He threw me a curious glance. “I will be right back.” I whispered into his ear. “I just need to check on Nathaniel.”

I walked though the dark corridor into our spacious kitchen with its wide windows that afforded a nice look onto the open countryside, with its green meadows and colourful flowers strewn in like sparkling jewels, when you looked out of them the right time of year. Nathaniel loved the windows, because of the view. I frowned upon their size and how they were situated in the room. It was mighty difficult to cover all of them with enough firepower to ensure safety, if a monster decided to attack us.

The kitchen was Nathaniel’s favourite room in the house and his playground where Micah and I left all decisions to him. He kept the room spotlessly clean, the cupboards all well stocked, and the dishes he served us would have made a five star cook proud. Funnily the same Nathaniel who had not been able to make the ends met on his salary from Guilty Pleasures, never once got in trouble with his budget and managed most of our money affairs effortlessly.

To my disappointment no leopard was to be seen, at first glance, and I thought he might have sneaked unnoticed to his own room upstairs, until I perceived the tip of a tail peaking out of a small storage area under the wooden working board. A curtain hid effectively most of the huge animal, and created a dark cave that might give the impression of seclusion and safety.

”Nathaniel? Please, come out here.” I crouched down in front of his hiding spot, and drew part of the curtain away, after I was certain he had noticed and recognized me. I was not too keen on spooking him into a sudden defence reaction.

”Please?” I found myself as close to begging as my nature let me get to. “I did not mean to hurt you, it was just, that.. that.. Well, you surprised me, and I am sorry, I could have told you ‘no’ in a nicer more amiable way.”

You see what cats can drive you to? There I was kneeling in front of an animal, reduced to pleading and apologizing and that despite the fact that I was still convinced that my reaction might have been a little abrupt but had been justified.

Lightly I touched the part of his back I could reach and petted him. No reaction.
Maybe he was not up to following my little speech?

My knees protested because I knelt and pressed them into the hard stone floor, I shifted into a more comfortable position and seated myself on the cold tiles, keeping my hand on Nathaniel's broad back. It seemed like it would take some time to complete my mission. I might as well be comfortable.
In retrospect it was my fault that it took so long to convey my message. Humans tend to keep their eyes on someone to show affection, we do it without realising it, but it is an integral part of our non-verbal, day-to-day communication.

For cats it works the other way around. To keep the eyes on someone is a sign of mistrust to them. So poor Nathaniel got mixed signals from me, my calm and low voice and being petted told him everything was fine again, and at the same time I watched him closely, to see his reaction and just because I liked him. He got the impression I did not trust him not to misbehave again, which meant I must still be upset with him. He could not make out what was the matter, as sensitive as he was, and the confusion made him feel more uneasy than ever. I know that now.

You see? I have caught up on my readings about cats.

Then and there, I only could think of how funny it was how Nathaniel could go from one extreme to the other. From being eager to get ordered around, to this stubborn, bull-headed cat who did not seem to give the slightest thought to what I wanted. Was there no healthy in-between?

My well-meant attempts to sooth him made it worse.
Nathaniel only squeezed himself tighter into the damned corner, and short of grabbing his tail and pulling him out, there was little I could do.
Finally I realized that my endeavours were doomed to fail, and I got up.

I tapped my index finger against the corner off my mouth and thought hard. How was I to entice Nathaniel to leave his hiding spot? The main problem was, that he was not up to thinking straight; the stupid star constellation had clearly taken its toll on him.
Perhaps I should try a different approach, the one I tried so far was too intellectual. Until now my aim had been to make Nathaniel understand. Maybe I should try smaller steps and change my angle of view? I was dealing with someone thinking like a cat, so I should handle him like one.

My main knowledge about pets I got from my dog Jenny. Food in general was something magic; it could make up for nearly everything. She would even do some tricks much below her dignity, if the bribe was right. Not to mention the fact that she, like millions of other pets lived in the firm believe that her name was ‘treat’, she reacted twice as fast when I called treat into the garden as she reacted to her name.

Food might do the trick for leopards as well, at least the idea was feasible and not completely unlikely to bring the wanted results.
I was sure, that would get the upper hand over the problems if I only could get Nathaniel out of his little cave.

I turned to the well stocked cupboards and rummaged trough them, trying to figure out what would make the best peace offer. Something he would like, preferably something with a strong, appetizing smell to attract Nathaniel’s attention.
Disappointed I pushed some cans with fruits, small boxes containing instant pudding powder and baking stuff, sugar, flour and coffee packages back to their places. Nothing I would classify to be suitable for the digestive system of cat’s was to be found there.
Maybe in the chest freezer in the cellar some raw meat was stored away. But it would take time to thaw it.

Not really hopeful to get lucky in the kitchen refrigerator I decided to try it first anyway. It seemed like one of my boys had thought far ahead and had either bought food for them in advance or was smart enough to raid the chest freezer in time. A copious supply of red, raw meat was lined up in three covered plastic bowls on the bottom shelf. I could not help but smile.

I took the first one, and opened it, I poked it with one finger to be sure, it was not still frozen in the inside. The next problem was, to find something to serve it in. It was not like I had food-dishes and water bowls with their name in neat golden letters on it hidden somewhere.
I nicked the largest mixing bowl I could find, and pushed the meat into it.

Nathaniel had somehow managed to turn around in the cramped space, presenting me with two gleaming green eyes that watched me curiously and a nose that was clearly twitching with anticipation.
”Come here, my beauty, all this tasty meat is for you.”

I showed him the food and waved the bowl in front of his nose for best effect. I put the bowl a little bit away from his head, so he would need to get out to reach it and took a seat at the table to give him some space.

For a moment it looked like he would slowly sneak out but he overcame the temptation. I was impressed, it was difficult to keep control like that over the powerful hunger.
But I did not gave up, I remembered the can of tuna and smiled, sure of victory. I fished the small can out of the cupboard and the second the smallest opening in the metal was made I had a bouncing and meowing leopard at my side.

Nathaniel managed to get continuously underfoot but I did not mind much. I enjoyed his happy and exited bearings, something else he barely did as a human, but it was more pleasant than his depressed state from some minutes ago. All his sorrows seemed to be blown away and it was funny as hell to watch him. The stupid fish had become the most important thing in the whole universe. He tracked it with his eyes, and started a series of the most pitiful meows I have heard in all of my life. His eyes grew big and pleading to get me to hurry and to ensure I would realise his need to get ALL of it, I could not take the smallest shred away without risking his death of starvation or mourning or both.

I was far too slow it seemed, Nathaniel had to take to pawing my leg, but he did it gently or what constituted for gentle from such a powerful animal, who could not estimate its own strength.
Finally I managed to scrape the last bites out with a fork and onto a china plate. Nathaniel had put his front paws both on the wooden working board and rose on his hind legs and watched the tuna eagerly. The height he reached that way was impressive.
I hid the can in a cupboard so he could not try to get it and cut himself on the sharp edges.

His nose followed at a fraction of an inch the plate as I moved it down on the ground for him to eat.
Blissfully he stuck his pink and surprisingly long tongue out to lick over one morsel after the other before his sharp teeth grabbed it to munch it away. The plate was clearing fast. A deep purr trickled out of his chest, and gave a steady background sound for the munching, slurping and smacking his muzzle produced, no table manners at all were left.

The rich soundscape of eating sounds alerted Micah to the fact that a visit to the kitchen might pay off.
The spotted leopard prowled trough the open kitchen door and sniffed scrutinizing the air. Nathaniel gave an uncharacteristic warning growl and threw Micah a slightly panicked look. To his great relief the alpha was not interested to show his dominance and eat the fish. Micah made a beeline for the meat bowl, crouched down in front of it, and lowered his head tentatively. Not to eat as I assumed only to sniff it again, it was decided the meat was edible and he happily started.

I could just do enough to suppress a groan. While Nathaniel ate noisily but well behaved from his plate Micah used the claws on his right paw to fish chunks of meat out of the bowl, let them smash down on the ground, only to push them around with his nose in the attempt to eat them, leaving ugly, bloody red stains on the floor. I wondered what he was getting out of it.
Why not eat out of the nice, clean bowl, what appeal could it have to make such a mess?

One unique characteristic of the leopard is that it is a big cat that eats its food in a posture similar to that of a small house cat instead of that of its larger cousins. And like some house cats, Micah thought it more fun to eat from the ground, than getting his muzzle smeared with the fluid from the flesh on the brim of the bowl. Besides it offered the opportunity to allege that he had hunted the food himself.

Resolutely I grabbed a pad out of a drawer and tried to push it under the bowl, I might have succeeded, but the sight of Micah’s paws that close stunned me. Little, tiny shreds of leather and fabric peeked out between the fur pierced by his sharp claws. They looked suspiciously like those our new couch and the carpet were made from.

My stomach tightened and I could not fight a foreboding feeling. I let the pad clatter to the ground to hurry back into the living room, prepared for the worst.

Have you ever noticed that it gave cats, no matter which subspecies they belonged to or if they were part-time humans, pleasure to disprove your assumptions about them? I brought this upon myself, even THINKING that it could do no harm to let Micah out of sight for a handful of minutes caused his sudden need to play, fool around a little and to sharpen his claws. My thoughts had been like a direct challenge.

And he rose to it! The whole room gave the impression of destruction and chaos. Not even the riled up werehyenas who paid us a social call some months ago had managed this degree of damage.

My mouth gaped open as I took in how the room changed from the neat, cozy, and homey living room I had left not half an hour ago into a major disaster area.

The carpet was ripped open, loose threads and strings were visible at the corners of the parallel claw marks Micah had caused with his attempt to sharpen the already deadly weapons further. When I looked close enough, I could make out the four separate lines of one set of claws even in the parquet that lay beneath the carpet.

Next to the table the ruins of our new, expensive and very comfy leather couch glared accusingly at me. It had met the same sad fate.
The soft but sturdy leather had been clawed from the upholstery. The wooden, formerly beautiful carved armrests had suffered too and were missing chunks. Small chips had rained down to the ground, making it a kind of adventure to walk closer without slippers.

The matching armchair had fallen and knocked the table over. Some few leftover cookies had fallen down and the tablet had slithered away. In my cup some few drops of coffee must have remained which had spilled out and onto the white tablecloth. In all the fabric I could see the gleam of glass shards. I saw a china handle and did not dare to hope that my penguin mug had survived the vicious attack.

I made my way trough the minefield of splinters, careful not to step into any and bend down to retrieve my treasure.
I was lucky, the mug was still whole. I cradled it in my arms and brought it to a place I assumed to be safer.

For a short moment I contemplated hauling Micah in here for a serve scolding. But what good would it to? First I doubted he could make the connection, if your pet did something wrong you have to take action at once, in the second it is failing you. And to be honest I did not want to raise aggressions between us, the harm to the furniture was done, and it would serve no purpose to trigger any violent attitudes in my boys.

And Micah would not go free, far from it. As soon as he had recovered from this strange full moon he would find himself burdened with the honour of handling the relevant papers for the insurance and every inquiry they would feel to be necessary later.

It might even be some fun to read his explanations of how it happened, yet again, that property of mine had an encounter with an enraged monster and needed replacement. My insurance tended to be difficult; very, very difficult and I judged it punishment enough to have to deal with them.

Before the two leopards had a chance to demolish the whole house I made my way back to resume my watch, the sound of angry meows made me hurry. If they were fighting we were in deep trouble, how to regain control over to pony sized, muscle packed, animals nature had build as effective and lethal hunters?

I grabbed my Browning tighter, and flipped the safety off, only to be on the safe side just in case, before I peered carefully around the corner. It was really a sight to behold in the kitchen. Both of them had finished their meals. Micah was laying flat on his belly, his head turned back to Nathaniel, voicing his protest, his long tail which never seemed to really come to rest, twitched faster than ever, which made his problem only worse, by making Nathaniel’s target more interesting.

The black leopard had crouched down again, his ears straight up and fixed his prey. This time the crouch gave not the impression of sadness but concentration. He shifted his weight slightly on his hind legs to get a better position for his jump and attacked Micah’s tail. With his paws he gripped his toy and to ensure his victory and break any last resistance he drove his sharp teeth into it as well.

A miserable and exasperated sound left Micah’s throat and he tried to tuck his tail away and into safety, but Nathaniel was having none of it. He rolled onto his back, retaining his hold on his prize and started to happily munch away on it.

I have to admit my pity for Micah was diminished by the state I found our living room in, and it made no sense for my why he endured Nathaniel’s antics, which might be fun to watch but surely were not so fun to be subjected to.

The nifty book about leopards revealed this secret for me, also.

Like most species of cats, leopards are solitary animals. In my house, two of them had to get along which presented a huge problem. All their puppy-pile, please hold me longings for each other were gone, and the need to keep each other from their patch might have kicked in. They solved it in a most unusual way.

In the wild sometimes a male and female leopard might be seen together during mating season, but that didn’t help my boys in their current situation. Nature provided no reason at all why two males would get along. Their instincts only held the option of fighting or taking flight.
The first was something both wanted to avoid and the second was just not an option.

The wild cousins of my wereleopards also might be spotted in a family consisting of a mother and her young cubs. The later would be unlikely to be attacked by a male cat, in addition the curious event of a male leopard who had taken care of the cubs of his mate after her death was described in the book.

It was exactly the loophole in the dictatorship of evolutional instincts that were for the night mercilessly forced upon them that they needed.

Micah played the adult leopard befitting his dominant role in the pard and Nathaniel as the younger and weaker of the two got to play kitten, and he used his opportunity with zeal. Like he knew he could get away with nearly everything.

Nathaniel's favourite pastime a game of tail catching was not only fooling around, it was an important part of the education cubs got from their mothers. The game aimed at the development of agility and motor skills, which were the necessary basics for all hunting techniques, which were required for survival. All too soon common leopard cubs had to manage on their own. So the adult cats were motivated by the ambition to give their offspring the best possible start at life and a leg up when it came to fighting by letting them practise with their own tails. It was a good reason to suffer and endure a little bit of pain.

Micah's inability to evaluate the obvious fact that Nathaniel would not need to train for his fighting or hunting skills, gained Nathaniel an uninterrupted playing session.
Nathaniel did not need improved fighting abilities because of his unalterable refusal to consider active participation in a fight other than getting into the way of our enemies if the situation required his intervention. His pacifistic stance still sat sore with me and made me constantly worry about him whenever we were under attack and he was around. It weighed on me like a millstone around my neck.

Other than that Nathaniel was a full grown leopard, his control was excellent and left nothing to be desired and I could not even imagine how he could get in a situation requiring him to slay his own diner. First off all he could provide for himself before he shifted and if worst came to worst there was always me to cater for him.

I lacked all knowledge about the background of their little entertainment, as I peered around the corner of the kitchen door, but as Micah was allowing such antics I was not going to interfere. Relieved that the service of my Browning would not be needed I clicked the safety back on and pushed my favourite weapon back into the holster I had fastened on a black leather belt, I wore exclusively to keep the holster at my side. My black jeans were fitting perfectly well without it.

Both leopards disregarded my reappearance in the kitchen completely, I was less than air to them, mainly because Nathaniel insisted on further fine-tuning of his hunting skills and Micah still tried to dodge the most vicious attacks to avert the rudest treatment of his poor tail. It had clearly suffered.

Especially the tip had disarranged and battered, hairs stuck out in all directions and about a quarter of the tail was bathed in salvia but to Micah’s dismay Nathaniel’s interest in it was unbroken.

Suddenly Nathaniel let go of his toy, never leaving his elder a chance to rescue and shelter his tail with his body. Nathaniel ears pricked up, his whiskers were thrust forward as he fixed his prey again. His pupils were dilated so far, that all the green seemed to have vanished and shimmering black obsidian marbles were all that was left. In a fraction of a second Nathaniel pounced in a new mock attack and got hold of Micah’s tail once more.

I could not contain a hearty laugh in view of Micah's ongoing plight. He shot me a reproachful look and the piteous sound he made moved my heart even after having seen the destruction his own pastime had left behind. Before Nathaniel's game could become too boisterous, or Micah ended up with parts
of his tail missing, keep in mind the game was designed for kittens far smaller than Nathaniel was in comparison to Micah, I rushed to Micah's rescue.

To keep Nathaniel from initiating a new round of his game, I fetched two more mixing bowls from a kitchen cabinet and raided the fridge once more.
Milk would provide a suitable and appreciated diversion, and perhaps my two troublemakers would agree to nap a little bid afterwards. Filled tummies and the fact that both of them had spent themselves should provide a good foundation for some restful hours for me. How unusually optimistic and how
wrong I was.

At least the first part worked as expected, as soon as I had the bottle of milk in my hand and started to pour some into the bowl I was graced with Nathaniel's full attention. Micah's tail was forgotten.
Nathaniel politely meowed his thanks as I handed him his bowl and he started to lap the creamy, white milk up as fast as he could manage.

First only his tongue was dipped in to the fluid, but that was not enough, it must have tasted really good because Nathaniel slipped up like a really small kitten, faced with something sweet and desirable in a dish for the first time. He got too greedy and dunked his whole muzzle into the milk to get bigger sips. Trouble was, that his nose was badly placed strategically for such a procedure and he got a huge amount of milk into his nasal passage as a result.

He sneezed loudly, shook his head in disgust and tried to get rid of the milk. It was something tasty but it had to hurt like hell to breathe it in, even watching him made me wrinkle my nose, and I had no idea how to help him.

Micah used the time to take care of his ruffled tail, paying special attention to the abused tip. He kept licking again and again over the fur until it was orderly and satisfactory silky and no traces of his ordeal were left. Only after he had accomplished his task he demanded his own share of the treat.

”Here you go.” I said, put the empty bowl down to fill it there with milk and broke ignorantly another of the cardinal rules, one that has to observe when dealing with cats. At least with cats that want something very badly, like Micah wanted the milk.

He wanted it so fast because I was doubtful that milk would do them to much good in large amounts, and thus had granted them only small portions. Micah wanted to get his fill, before Nathaniel recovered from his sneezing bout and seized his part of the treasure as well.

You do not need to know much about cats to know that animals in general tended to suffer from lactose intolerance because they lacked enzymes. After their mothers stopped to nurse the little ones and they had no other source for milk, they just stopped to produce lactase which is the enzyme one needs to digest substances in the milk.

I did not feel up to the task to care for two leopards with the runs, in case their alternate bodies could not remember how to deal with milk.
Later I would fill the bathtub with cold water, so my boys could quench their thirst with something harmless.

Every time I moved the bottleneck into a position to pour some milk into his bowl, Micah got into the way, and made it pretty difficult to fulfil his wish, which only increased his agitated state. It was a vicious circle. My already tried patience was wearing thin and in serve danger of failing me.
Micah was surly making up for his all over easy going demeanour tonight.

” Will you just stop it for a second? No body is going to steal it from you. And you would have had it already if you would let me only give it to you.” I tried to reason with him, failing miserable to make myself understood.

I would take it as a sign of your goodwill not to mention the fact, that I could have spared myself by simply retrieving the bowl from the ground, fill it on the table and hand it back. Believe me in such an arduous situation the simplest solutions will elude you!

Finally Micah pushed so hard against my hand that milk spilled on the ground, and I had one more reason to glare unfavourable at him. He did not mind in the slightest, being busy to launch himself on the milk, like he was dieing with thirst. I used the opportunity to fill the bowl with milk, and put the bottle back in the shelter of the fridge, before one more room was decorated with glass shreds.

Out of the corner of my eyes I could see how Nathaniel was about to dip his whole muzzle again into the milk. He had only recovered and obviously had learned nought. I ended up sitting beside him, one arm over the bowl blocking his way, so that he could lap his milk but not take another attempt at drowning in the beverage.

With my free hand I stroked through his fur again and sometimes I fondled one of his ears, he was so taken with his milk that he did not mind. Do not ask me why, but if you find yourself so close to a furball petting and cuddling it is like a reflex, and very hard to resist.

All the dirty bowls, dishes and cutlery went into the sink. The kitchen looked more orderly like this, it took only a modicum of effort and kept Nathaniel happy. Later he would either wash them by hand or load them in the dishwasher, if the items in question stood a chance of surviving it. He really had a knack for all of the housekeeping stuff.

I stocked myself up with food, whereas my men had feasted I had missed out, and because I had forgotten to eat something substantial earlier I felt suddenly starved. Nathaniel’s home-made cookies were great but not enough to ensure Damien’s safety, when I did not eat enough or ignored the ardeur I would involuntarily start to drain energy from my vampire servant.

Some delicious leftover chicken and one hurriedly made cheese sandwich got to accompany me upstairs. In addition I gripped one soft drink can and was ready to go.
One of the upstairs guestrooms we only used if one of my other leopards needed shelter would do nicely. No need to risk chaos in our shared bedroom, all of us would welcome a haven of peace later.

The living room was out of bounds for my two huge kitties until someone had disposed of the glass shards, which posed an undesirable hazard for soft paws. I would have cleaned up the mess already but try as I might I could not remember where Nathaniel kept the vacuum cleaner stored away. Even if I had known, it was wiser not to start such a noisy domestic appliance near the cats, who knows how my boys would react to it? It might startle them and put them to flight.

Balancing my food in one hand I made my way up the stairs, without any fuss both followed willingly, either they wanted to stay close to me, hoped for some chicken, or were driven by the typical urge of all cats to explore.

I deemed the guestroom safe, nothing there but a closet, huge bed, a nightstand, lots of pillows and blankets. In one corner my oversized travelling-bag still filled with some clothes waited to be emptied. Some forgotten boxes from the time Micah had moved in stood on the furthest wall.

After Micah had entered as the last I closed the door behind us and turned the key, before I threw myself onto the mattress, to eat my snack and watched to see if they would follow my example and get some rest, too. After all, cats were supposed to nap a lot. Micah complied, hopped on the bed with me, snuggled close, closed his eyes, and was gone.

Nathaniel proved to be a little weirdo, he liked to get under things very much, as our episode in the kitchen had already proved.

To his great dissatisfaction the bed was so short legged, that he had no chance to squeeze under it, his head was too big for it. Cats can force themselves through the smallest crevices, if they only can make their head fit. First he tried to press himself into the ground, it was just not enough. Holding his head to one side did not help either. I was sure I could hear his disappointed sigh as he gave up.

Undeterred, he stood in the middle of the room and tried to figure out what to try next. He went over to the boxes, peered in to them, jumped and scratching sounds could be heard, then it was silent. No noise at all. It scrapped on my nerves like sandpaper and I just had to check on him. I got up, I was not too worried, as far as I remembered this particular box was empty but for some books and magazines - nothing Nathaniel could really hurt himself with but I looked into the box just to be sure.

On top of the reading material was my black beauty, one moment eagerly making a tiny hole in the side of the box, in the next moment he was looking terribly saddened. Nathaniel got back to his feet and meowed accusingly indicating that I had slipped up again, by busting his hiding game and he took it very seriously.

One of the more important rules concerning cats, if your cat is hiding, no matter how visible it still is, your are strongly expected to avert your eyes, look in a different direction, never ever let on that you have noticed it. Or you will be considered crude and mannerless.

I retreated back to the bed, and Nathaniel continued doing whatever he was doing in his box. From time to time ears peeped over the corner, followed by his eyes, to make sure I stayed away.
Problem was, he could not get back into his game, my disturbance took away some of its appeal, nor made it a comfortable enough bed to stay there any longer.

The soothing purrs from my side, Micah’s warm body pressed so close made me drowsy as well. Why not close my eyes? It had been dark for some hours, I was weary from the days work, and I deemed the room safe. I must have dozed off for a moment, because the next thing I knew was a picture that showed me oh, how much Nathaniel loved suitcases.

They were much neater than stupid boxes, filled with warm and soft clothes making a wonderful nest, and they smelled far better.

A little bit of pawing and the loosely closed lid gave way enough to slip in, which was a tad harder and required some amount of moving around, adjusting body parts and a lot of wriggling.

All that was visible of him when I opened my eyes, was the tell tale tail, politely I refrained from sniggering, and with one last tug it also disappeared into the confines of my suitcase.
My moving around had woken up Micah who stretched himself, showing off the whole length of his slim but muscled body and yawned heartily, granting me a good look at rows of alarmingly sharp teeth.

Seconds later Micah was sniffing the air, turning around in unease, while he called with odd sounds for the missing ‘kitten’. It did not help and he got up to look for himself. First the now empty box was inspected, and some scent made a track to the suitcase, and Micah followed it looking for his lost companion.

He was obviously incredibly confused by Nathaniel’s whole ‘disappearing into the suitcase trick,’ as pawing open the lid was just a smidge above his capabilities. I had never wished more for a camera in my life.

A while later, I saw Nathaniel slip out of the suitcase, yet Micah was still staring confusedly at it, trying to figure out just what in the world was going on.

Did he think Nathaniel was still in there? Did he not realize the whole suitcase concept and think Nathaniel had returned from some mystic void? Why was he still so fascinated with the suitcase? He wasn’t trying to paw the lid open, really, just staring at it, as if wondering who else might emerge from it.

This night gave me plenty of ammunition to tease Micah mercilessly for years. He would have a hard time living this one down.

As a leopard he was cute, he was lovable but sure as hell he was not the brains in the operation.

Finally he was simply satisfied with the fact that his youngster was whole and healthy and he decided the curious suitcase secret was better left alone. The window held much more fascination for Micah, he was too huge to jump onto the windowsill, but he was tall enough to look out of the window without it.

He looked longingly out of the window, visualizing himself racing trough grass and the last unharvested cornfield in the neighbourhood. He had to press his nose to the glass, because inside the light was switched on and outside it was pitch dark. The glass acted like a mirror, if you were too far
from it, you could see nothing. I knew I would see almost nothing no matter how much I pressed against the window. My night vision was as perfect as it came for humans, but I still needed more light to see by.

Micah’s eyes on the other hand were made to hunt in near-lightless conditions, thanks to circular pupils, which were capable of vast dilation. This attribute, in conjunction with a superb sense of smell and a remarkable ability to detect movement, makes the leopard a deadly predator by night.
They were built to run fast and Micah suddenly riffled with energy, all his contained power and strength made him search for an outlet for pent-up energy, but there was none.

Even with the room door opened our house was too small to meet his sudden urge to move only halfway. But outside, outside there was space to run, to hunt, to romp, and to simply enjoy freedom. Outside was heaven. The only obvious drawback was the fact that it was raining sheets; rain and the wind was picking up in speed.

Micah looked helplessly around and his gaze came to rest upon me. It was me, providing them with meat, and tuna, I could conjure up the tasty white liquid and even the light obeyed my whims it became light when I pressed a little switch in the wall. Over and above that I was claiming the alpha position over them, so it was only fair that I worked my magic once more and made the nasty rains disappear, so they could go outside and play a little. To fulfil his modest wish would hurt nobody, would it?

First Micah decided to try the polite approach; he went to me, rubbed his head along my leg and meowed something. But my reaction was not satisfactory, the rain outside kept continuing, perhaps I had not understood what he wanted, what he needed so badly for his happiness?
He tried again and put a little bit more urgency into his voice.

How thick headed could one human be? He become truly pushy and went through the whole arsenal of sounds he could produce, he meowed, moaned, yowled, made an odd non-aggressive puffing sound (which is called prusten, as I learned later) and finally even growled and hissed but all to no avail.

I was not sure how I felt to be made responsible for the weather, and by the easiest going being I knew at that. It seemed like Micah still liked me very much, but my main purpose was clearly to attend to them and provide all possibly comfort and convenience.
You know the saying: You live with your dog but in your cat’s house? That hits the mark of reality pretty well.

”You can’t go outside, people would be frightened of you and someone might even shoot. Not to mention that you are not fit to handle yourself in traffic. Besides I honestly can’t do anything about the rain. Remember all the mud you complained about earlier?”

I tried to find something to take the mind of the spotted leopard from the window, I even tried to initiate a game of catching the ball of wool, but Micah was hell bent on being miserable and kept pressing himself yammering to the window. Nathaniel too preoccupied with his own longings to play with me, he wanted some chicken nearly as badly as Micah wanted me to stop the rain and let them get outside.

He also resorted to begging and pleading, but I was not giving him more spiced food. As it turned out there was no need for me to give it to him, as whenever I turned my attention to Micah he helped himself to chunks of the white meat.

Exasperated with them, I rescued what was left. “If you stuff more of it into you, chances are good that you will fall ill.” I chided the black leopard, which put once again the act of the poor, starving kitten on. How cruel off me not to share the treats with him.

I slumped back onto the bed, feeling helpless, out-monstered, and not well at all. I was not made to handle two leopards, given a choice I would have preferred to fight Belle Morte once more, at least I could shoot at her all I wanted. Listlessly I ate the chicken to remove at least one temptation, watching my two difficult boys wearily.

Simultaneous they took a break in their begging and started to groom their fur in the most improper places. They just had to clean their butts, when I was eating.
Like all cats wait to do it until someone in their proximity was eating to tackle that special task, preferable they waited until there were guests to be entertained as well. I turned to the wall, and finished the chicken out of obvious reason, even though my appetite was irrecoverable lost for tonight.

While I looked away, the two leopards spotted a moth. It was an ordinary, harmless looking moth who would become the catalyst of the newest disaster.
What my wool ball had failed to do, the moth managed, it was interesting, for want of real prey it could substitute for it. Both followed it with their eyes, patiently biding their time until the most promising moment.

Hell broke loose.
Both jumped in the same second, the air was full of claws and teeth. One tail hit me in the face, and they did not stop to hunt, they kept hunting the moth, reaching out for it with their paws, trying to swallow it whole, jumping and bumping into the bed and closet. The formerly orderly stacked boxes tumbled down on me and their contents spilled into the room making the chaos perfect.

I was smart enough not to call the exited cats to order, it would have done me no good and I doubted that they would have taken notice of my words. My little speech would have been drowned by the noise they made. I tried to get to the window instead, hoping to manage to open an escape route for the poor moth and thus reconstituting some measure of quiet and order. Two times I was nearly bumped over by the playful cats, next morning I would be covered in a lovely hue of blue, sporting bruises all over my body.

Nearly there, I reached out and opened the window. The moth was a smart animal and was out of the window before I had blinked twice; unfortunately the same was true for Nathaniel.

Before I could react or even knew what was happening he jumped. We were in the second story, and he jumped after a moth, unwilling to let his toy escape or because he saw his chance to play outside.
I feverishly hopped that he had survived his stupid stunt without suffering too much harm.

The shock should have stunned me, but I acted fast enough to throw the window closed, directly in Micah’s face and a second before he would have escaped, too.

Unladylike I started to swear. Jean-Claude often claimed that I had a special way with words, never had it been more correct than in that minute. Impromptu I invented a whole new range of swear words.

Outside it was dark, but Nathaniel could see perfectly well. He shook his head after his mighty jump and looked disdainfully at his muddy feet. His lithe body was built to withstand leaps from such heights without any trouble and his tail had served as a rudder, so he had landed safely on his paws. Intrigued he took in all the interesting smells around him and enjoyed the fresh air, the moth completely forgotten, here was far more to be gained.

He moved slowly and carefully at first, prepared for a sudden attack before he broke into a full run; Nathaniel was in his element, he was free and rejoiced in it. The living earth under his feet, the sounds of the whistling wind in the trees, tracks of small mammals on the ground. Here was the space he needed to stretch his muscles, to work his body properly, to play and so many stimuli for his senses he had missed inside. His body shook slightly with pleasure.

All I could make out below was how a dark shadow with movements like a symphony of grace disappeared in the night. My stomach tightened in fear.

Leopards are solitary hunters who operate mainly nocturnal with a wide variety of prey from medium-sized antelope down to frogs and mice; even dung beetles are not spurned. They are extremely adaptive and are able to live in a variety of terrain.

Thus Nathaniel had no problems dealing with his surroundings which were strangely familiar, soon his perception was fully adjusted and he made a bee-line for the corn field to indulge in some hunting. It felt right, this was his domain. True, without all the water from the skies that soaked his fur, it would have been more fun, but he would manage.

To a greater extent than the rain a small voice in the back of his head endangered his enjoyment of reaping the benefits of his unplanned but most welcome trip outside.

As soon as he had spotted a rabbit he was so taken with it, that the low voice of reason fell silent. The tiny voice had caused him some unease by warring with his instincts. It had presented the last crumbs of logical thoughts. The small voice had demanded that he should return to the den and the others without delay.
Nathaniel had the distinct impression that the female alpha would not be happy with his excursion but his instincts told him firmly that he was supposed to be a part of nature, to be outside and it could not be wrong to act upon deeply ingrained feelings, could it?
His confusion ended with the sighting of his prey, he would not go home without a kill; the voice vanished or was drowned out by the hammering of the blood in his ears.

All this Nathaniel told me months after his little adventure, and Damien chipped in and contributed what he had witnessed. If I had known that a very puzzled vampire-servant had been there to protect Nathaniel from his own actions, and unsuspecting humans from the large predator I would have felt
better.
True, Damien did not know what was going on in this night, but he had recognized Nathaniel and I was sure he would have intervened on his behalf without hesitation if his assistance would have been required.

As sad as it sounds the loose acquaintance with Nathaniel was the closest thing to friendship Damien had found in St. Louis. My mild mannered, soft-spoken, polite, vulnerable young leopard was the only one who had actually taken notice of the last of our fellow lodgers, and had offered him food on the days Damien was not working and some emotional support when it was needed. I had royally fucked up there; I am just not good at caring for people. I could protect them, alright, but I was not made to accommodate their other needs.

Luckily, there was no reason for Damien to take any actions and thus verify my theory about his relationship to Nathaniel. As a wereleopard Nathaniel proved to be an extremely shy animal who used his excellent senses to ensure that no human being was nearby. He was as elusive as his natural cousins.
With his killer instinct out of order for the night, he preferred to avoid those strange killers on two legs.

He sniffed the air regularly, the faint wave of vampire smell, a bit like those of vipers kept him on edge, but it was not coming closer. So there was no need at all to let his rabbit escape.

His black fur was the perfect camouflage, deep in the night, and only Damien own enchanted vampire vision enabled him to keep an eye on Nathaniel. The vampire admired the supple movements, and had stopped to watch the happenings. It was most uncommon for members of the pard to hunt in the vicinity of our home. Micah knew a nice, huge forest complete with game and streams they frequented on full moons.
There was no expression on Nathaniel’s still face only a gleam in his eyes that gave away the pleasure he felt. First he was only a lurking shadow, biding his time, apparent languorous in the stiff breezes of the night.
His ears pricked up, the only parts of his body that actually moved but suddenly his muscles were bow-string taut and the big cat was poised and bristling for the kill.

In quick succession two rabbits found a premature end at Nathaniel’s paws. He attacked by stalking his prey within a distance of one leap, but this one leap measured a huge distance. Even natural leopards manage 15 meters with ease. Later they are able to carry a dead weight twice their own up a tree, to feast in peace. Phenomenal animals they are.

The first rabbit was grabbed with two paws, cruel, sharp claws driven into it, a quick bite broke its spine. The accomplished hunter let go of it to turn his full attention to the other shadow he had spotted with his keen eyes.

It was harder to get, running for dear life all attempts to hide forgotten. The rabbit’s brown eyes were big and frightened, its heart hammered in its chest and the enticing smell of fright kept Nathaniel on its track. He got it; the rabbit was bitten in the throat and shaken to death before Nathaniel ripped the hide of his prey with his teeth to gulp down parts of the rabbit. He possessed no molars so he swallowed meat chunks and parts of the hide whole.

Only slightly panting Nathaniel stood over the leftover rabbit. For a moment he languished in the glory of his hunt but he was unsure how to proceed from there and it was so difficult to think, his mind was foggy, he tried harder.

Suddenly he raised his head, he had not been careful the snake like smell of death had come closer, approached him. The wind told him all the details he needed and he swayed between attack and flight. Perhaps it was only coincidence and the two legged something would pass him by? Nathaniel crouched down to become invisible in the tall grown corn spiked blades.

Damien had finally decided that it was safe to act. The hunt was over and it surely would not be considered an improper interruption on his part if he drew nearer to ensure everything was fine.

Vampires were solitary hunters as well; they tended to stick to the resulting behaviour codex obsessively. Maybe they would consider bending a rule until it was turned against itself, but they would never openly break it. Jean-Claude was a master pettifogger, it was one of the main reason he was still with us and not truly dead. His quick mind and beautiful body had always been his assets, which over the course of time I had learned to accept of being integral parts of him. I lost the urge to remodel Jean-Claude; I loved him as he was.

Damien was still cautious and moved slowly closer, making enough noise not to spook the cat with sudden appearance and silent enough not to pose as a threat. If everything would fail he still could take to the air. Levitating was a useful ability, and he had trained his flying skills grimly. It was the strongest power he developed and in emergencies it was his best asset that might help him survive.

He would never be his own master, dependent on others for all eternity, I could not start to fathom how he must feel about it and I did not ask him, but whenever he was not acting up he emanated a deep sadness. From Asher who only lacked one typical ability master-vampires tended to gain, I learned how galling it was for him not to have gained his own animal to call.

Before I could hold him responsible for any undesirable turns of events, Damien decided it would be best to gain as much information as possible and react accordingly to them. Without knowledge about what was happening this night, Damien suspected strongly, that Nathaniel was not supposed to be on a hunting trip alone. More than that Damien was worried, he sensed that something was amiss with his friend.

The beast in him was nearly almighty, Nathaniel had usually a better grip on it than that. And shedding blood, even that of an animal was so unlike the young man, that Damien could not help but to get suspicious. .

He crouched down, but refrained from looking directly into the cat’s eyes to feel Nathaniel out. At least one of us had kept up with his reading about his friends, and to be honest as empty as the cellar was I had made Damien live in, there was little else he could do besides reading. He was not
allowed to hunt, which he longed to do after years of repression by his cruel Mistress so he took to books, to let at least his intellect escape from the existence he loathed so much and clung to so desperately at the same time.

”Hello there, big fella.” Damien said in his most soothing voice. “Nice rabbits you got there.”
He got a suspicious look and raised his hands to show how harmless he was.

”Do not worry I do not want them.” Nathaniel appeared only curious not aggressive at all, after he was sure that no one tried to steal his treasure. He stayed wary and a bit chary, carefully he sniffed on Damien’s offered hand and the odour reminded him of his den, and took some of his fear.

Damien managed to work around Nathaniel’s inability to understand us and his ingrained insecurity with the patience of an angel. He complimented the hunt, showed himself suitable impressed of the leftover rabbit, stroked Nathaniel’s ego as well as his head and stayed amiable when Nathaniel
sniffed him further.

It took some time for Nathaniel to deem the two legged something trustworthy, but in the end he took the rabbit between his teeth, to follow the being to the direction of den.
Nathaniel had made up his mind what to do with his second trophy and was intent on presenting it to me.

My vampire servant walked slowly ahead, wondering what the hell had happened, all the while baiting Nathaniel with sweet words. Sometimes Nathaniel was overcome with the need to scent mark his domain as his. Leopards mainly communicate from the distance which each other and mark their territory in a variety of ways.

The black leopard scraped the ground with his hind legs, and a lonely rock on the field’s corner even got sprayed with some urine. Damien was amused as Nathaniel decided that the vampire was also his, he liked the strange not human two legged something obviously enough to manifest his claim over him with some actions. He tried to mark the vampire with his face while they walked. Not an easy task while carrying a rabbit in the muzzle! And like our poor carpet, most of the furniture, and my clothes from the suitcase, Damien’s shirt ended up covered over and over in cat hairs.

I had been insufferable. I worked myself up over what could happen, and could not decide if it was better to go after Nathaniel to keep him out of trouble or to stay with Micah who sensed my mood swing and had gotten terribly agitated, pawing the door, and moving up and down the corridor like a caged animal in the zoo.

He could not understand what was happening, but he was sensitive to my emotions and the absence of his charge was winding him up as well. He became more and more agitated, clearly Micah was in no state to be left alone, and Damien was due from work soon but he had not come home yet to help me out of my tight spot.

What good would it do me to follow Nathaniel, anyway? In his alternative form he was so incredibly fast that I was left not a snowball’s chance in hell to catch him and he could even be in earshot and it would not make much of a difference, if his brain was as befuddled as it seemed, no appeal to show himself would get him out of his hiding.

But my whole being rebelled at the thought of leaving my poor boy to his fate.

Micah needed me also, right here, but, but I just could not just stay at home and wait until something terrible happened. Granted there were no close neighbours, but a street was not to far from the cobble stone way, which was leading to our house. What if Nathaniel got hit by a car? What if he was attacked a human? What if the likes of Edward, saw and hunted him? What if he came across a spook-squad member?

I was crazy with fear. Nathaniel was gone for over an hour. Who knew how far away he had gotten, and how he was dealing with all the dangers my mind showed me in techno colours?

It took me some time to hear the gentle knock on the door. I had absolutely no humour left to appreciate Damien’s effort to make light of the situation as he felt the oppressive tension that had gripped me.
”Anybody home? Anita, I think I found something outside that you have lost.” He gently announced.

I raced to the door and tore it open, I was too happy to have my wet, dirty, dishevelled leopard back to scold Damien for his try at being droll, which in my eyes was completely out of place.
Damien and Nathaniel got ushered inside before they had a chance to react. I occupied myself with checking the black leopard for injuries, asking Damien how he had found him, pushing Micah to the side with my elbow and threatening Nathaniel with everything that come to my mind, if he ever gave me such a fright again.

I was pretty imaginative with what I could do to him, if he tried a stunt like that ever again. Decorating his tail with knots was the most harmless one.

Damien promised to keep an eye on the two leopards and made me to go outside for a little while to cool down and get a grip on myself before I would do something I would regret later. His voice had been mild, placating he clearly tried to calm me down.
My vampire servant had made it a suggestion but the voice of reason was strong enough in his words to make me obey or was it the realisation that I was in dire need of a short break?

Anyway, I embraced the chance to escape the chaos and the fresh air would do me some good. I took some lung fulls of the fresh air outside, it smelled like pine wood and fresh hay, one of the fey benefits of the ongoing rain was, that it had cleaned the air.
The sky was covered with storm clouds and in less than a minute I was soaked through to the skin, but I did not mind much.

My gaze wandered over the sky, but not a gleam on the horizon told about sun rise, no sparkling stars graced the firmament, all was dark and desolate.

When I felt sufficiently calmed I went back inside. Brown paw prints on the cream coloured carpet were silent witness of the path Nathaniel had taken and with their help I tracked them down in our living room. The overturned furniture was put straight again, and the glass shreds were gone making it safe for the two leopards to play in there. Funny I lived upstairs and Damien in the cellar with its concrete floor, but the vampire must know where the vacuum cleaner was hidden although he had no need for it.

I have to admit, that Damien mastered the unusual challenge better than I had. He had been pretty inventive and entertained the two cats with a laser pointer. The fast jerky movements the small point of light made attracted the leopard’s attention, and they were absolutely engrossed in their activity.

They were puzzled a bit that they could not get hold of their prey, and that it was cheeky enough to run over their paws, but it seemed only to add to the fun.

The second the game got out of hand, all Damien need to do was to let go of the button on the pointer, and all action stopped. He had found the perfect weapon to beat my unconquerable adversary. Such a simple, little toy was all it had needed, to get the better if the weather and rob it of its accomplices.

Peace, quiet. All because of such a simple toy, Damien made me feel like a complete fool, he was more intuitive than I had credited him for, under the bitter, hurt and distrustful exterior was a person who responded with a natural ease to the needs of those around him. Not to mention how imaginative he had been.

I was about to compliment him, but the guilty stricken expression he wore let me hesitate. What was wrong, now? He should be proud of his good idea; I at least was thankful and ready to give him the satisfaction of having been smarter than me.

So what could it be? I knew that the dirt Nathaniel was still leaving behind was not Damien’s fault, I also knew that Damien felt that I acted often unjustly towards him, but he could not believe me to be so cruel as to blame him for something complete out of his control?

Very slowly, keeping his eyes on me he moved the hand he had kept hidden behind his back into view. With round eyes I stared at three large fragments of white china. From the largest piece the accusatory eyes of a penguin starred back at me. Damien faces showed nothing as he admitted in a small voice: “It was my fault, not theirs. It just slipped out of my hand. ”

It is far from me to call Damien a liar, as the past shows he rather tends to be brutally honest, but I had my doubts about his story. I waited but he was not going to elaborate. With I sigh, I took the shreds of my favourite cup from his hands, and carried them into the kitchen without saying a word either. Maybe some super glue could rescue it?

If Damien felt the need to shelter others from me with lies, because he feared what might happen to them if I hold them responsible for their actions, something was really wrong and I needed to speak with him.

I strongly suspected that Nathaniel was the one who had knocked over the cup, probably with his tail. I was not sure how close Micah and Damien were, but I do not think Damien would risk his hide as readily for Micah as for Nathaniel.

But if Damien was brave enough to take the blame for something he had clearly not done, I would act like a grown up for once and not jump out of my skin only because my favourite coffee cup was maliciously murdered.

Believe me, it was not intended as punishment, no matter how much Nathaniel was lamenting about the treatment he had to endure, but he was really in need of a bath. There was no way he would get all the dirt of his fur only with licking it clean. He looked like he had rolled himself in the mud and did not only walk through it. And as long as he stayed like it he would distribute it all over the house.

So a bath it had to be:

My retrieved leopard was sitting on the cold tiles of the bathroom, hunched down looking from time to time guiltily in my direction.

He had brought the nice rabbit home for me, all of it for me, he had not taken the smallest bite out of it and still I was not happy with him. With so much care and love he had draped it over my pillow. The world was unjust.

Maybe he was right there, but I was not so much interested in philosophical views of the world as in his dirt encrusted fur. He might be able to clean it himself, but I was not going to bet on it, and it was unlikely he would manage in the near future. If I would let him get loose like that, in no time our nice home would completely turn into a loony bin, and an exceptional dirty one at that. In addition I wanted to make sure, that no wounds were hidden under all the dirt.

So a bath it would be. I bathed a cat and lived to tell about it, one more addition to the list of wonders your friendly neighbourhood executioner could work. I had no pity for Nathaniel, he alone had brought it upon himself.

I got a firm grip on him and made him get into the tub. He struggled weakly, apprehensive of my motives.

To be honest the ‘I lived to tell about it in one piece’ part is a bit of a dramatization on my part, since the cat in question was Nathaniel, who is the most mild-mannered young man I had ever had the pleasure to met and made the most compliant cat you will ever encounter. This one time it served me well, that he took pleasure in being submissive and I played on it.

Okay, he got a claw in my bicep, but that was it. Just a little poke, although, he wouldn’t take the damn claw *out* of my bicep right away, so it kind of hurt. No big scratches or blood stains on my bathmat or anything.
Just the common day to day madness I seem to attract like no one else.

Fortunately I got my combined anti were- anything shot, like a good girl. Leopards were one of the least contagious species and my connection to Jean-Clause and Richard offered some protection as well. So the little claw wound did not rile me up much.

Poor Nathaniel put not up much of a fight as I fetched him to move him into the bathroom. On my way I got a towel and obviously shut the door behind us. I let him sit behind me and ran some water into the tub; I thought it would be less straining for him than being showered down.

The extra strength I got from being Jean-Claude’s human servant come in handy, it enabled me to pick Nathaniel up and plunge him in. He remembered the rain from outside and made the connection that being dipped into a pool of water was most likely even more unpleasant than being outside in the rain. So getting him in the tub took a bit more doing, this was when I got impaled, and once he was in, he was trying desperately to jump out.

However, once I got his hind feet securely on the tub floor and had his front paws securely in my hands, he stopped fighting. I quickly soaked his back, lathered him up, rinsed him off, and watched a brown, muddy water disappear in the drain. Nathaniel’s favourite shampoo was all natural, it would not make him sick if he licked it, because no funky chemicals would attack his belly. Perfect!

On the downside, I had a leopard smelling like a lemony beer all night. Which proves that Nathaniel’s vanilla scent is all his own, and neither his soap nor shampoo has to do with it.
Then I let him get out of the tub and tried unsuccessfully to fold him into a kitty burrito to dry him off. It had always worked perfectly well for Jenny.

But Nathaniel had had enough and distrusted me after my uncalled for assault so much, that I could not get a hold on him. Our bathroom was not small enough to give me an edge on him. I bathed him no problem, but he wouldn’t sit still long enough to let me towel him off, so I turned him loose soaking wet.
The entire thing took about five minutes start to finish.
It is probably a good thing he did not go outside again because he did not look like a house cat, if he would and anyone else had found him they would have accused me of cruelty to animals, especially when they saw him chasing his soaking wet tail in an attempt to dry it off or something. I’ve never seen him move so fast, and I have seen him running for his very life! And in circles!
Again I felt a longing for a photo camera or even better a camcorder.

The rest of the night was pretty relaxed with only some smaller accidents and misunderstandings. We went back into our guestroom and got comfortable on the bed. All three of us, luckily It was a double bed, and we all fit on it even when it got a little cramped. It was kind of comfortable, to cuddle close was just what we needed and I enjoyed the vibrations I could feel as they purred so low that I could not make out the slightest sound.
Taking turns I brushed my two boys, mumbled niceties and they relaxed, with their heads nestled on my lap and legs. They were plainly happy. It was lovely.

I kept my calm, when Micah decided to return the favour and to help me with my personal hygiene. His front paws grabbed my left arm, held them gently, but with enough pressure to show me that he meant business.
There was no way to free my arm gently enough, not to disturb our sedate puppy- or would it be kitten-pile? So I endured his licks, the rough tongue on my arm tickled, and the wet trails felt cold as they dried, but it was endurable. It seemed to be important for Micah to give something back. So I let him have his way until he decided I was presentable enough.

Nathaniel was happy too, no one was angry or fighting. There was closeness, and love and understanding between us, and he had a large part of my attention all for himself and was pampered.
It was heaven on earth for him.

All it had taken to turn the situation from a catastrophe to a blessing was for me to be considerate of some of their special characteristics and to exercise some calm. The last two missteps of my boys I took without being driven up the walls.
You have only to straighten out your priorities; can property be more important than the well being of those we love and call family? I do not think so.

So what were some feathers from a slashed open pillow to me? Micah had meant no harm, he had damaged it as he had kneaded the pillow a little more than it could withstand with his paws in his bliss.

I only laughed and used one of the downy feathers to tickle Nathaniel paws; he was as a leopard just as sensitive on his feet as he was as a human being. Micah being covered in the white feathers that rained down like snow on us was a funny sight too, and he had to sneeze over and over as one of the smaller down settled on his nose. He tried to see what it was that caused him such discomfort, and looked cross eyed on the little feather on the tip of his nose.

Was it really something to worth to work myself up, as Nathaniel turned to his side to maltreat my back while he made dough like the kitten he felt to be?
After a while the rhythmic kicks felt like a massage to me, and I started to enjoy them. There was no reason to be afraid, his claws could be felt, but there was not enough strength used to break skin.

Do me a favour and do not tell my men how amiable I can be, they expect me to be difficult and bitchy, no need to steal my fun or disappoint their expectations of me. I have a reputation to keep.

The only tight spot we had was when Nathaniel kidnapped Sigmund. You remember my stuffed toy penguin?

Damien had retired at this time into his coffin because sunrise would soon be upon us, and he felt safer there. Finally the end of my ordeal was in sight also. Only some few hours later the full moon would disappear from the pale blue sky and its power over my two men would be broken also, leaving them free to return to their human selves.

I had refrained from locking the boys in again, the door stayed a crack open, and both made no attempt at all to leave me.
Damien had explained to me that cats, especially those you were not always kept inside, hated to be restricted to a small room. Micah and Nathaniel must have felt cramped, it had been strenuous for them and they had gotten moody. It was also a characteristic of cats to insist on their own choices.
When you take them on your lap, they will only stay if you do not try to force them. Pick your cat up, try to hold it and it will fight you, if you will let go of it, it might as well decide that your lap is just the place to be.

It worked perfectly well until Nathaniel suddenly felt quarrelsome, got up, slunk out of the room, only to reappear a second later, with something in his muzzle. I groaned. He was caring an already salvia soaked stuffed penguin, and I was sure as hell that neither the wetness, not the sharp tears would do the poor toy any good.

To make it worse he had chosen not any penguin but Sigmund my favourite one. If he had chewed on it, I would give the knots in the tail behaviour therapy an honest try.
Nathaniel got back on the bed, and I tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, hoping to get a chance to snatch my toy back. Having lost my cup to their antics was sacrifice enough on my part for one day.

Nathaniel placed the penguin securely between his fore paws, and tried to mother it. He washed him carefully, not leaving out the tiniest spot and then he cuddled the penguin. He had not taken my toy hostage but had adopted it. I was not sure if that was a blessing.

The rough tongue was felting the soft plush and the filling was saturated with salvia, but Nathaniel took care that I could not get to my bedraggled toy.
Micah intervened on my behalf, gently he nosed Nathaniel’s head away, took my penguin between his own teeth, and let him fall into my lap. Sigmund actually made a squishing sound. If Nathaniel had worked on a real kitten the poor thing would have had no fur left by his vigour and it would have been drenched to the skin.

I kissed Micah thank you, and went to stuff Sigmund into the washing machine. When I returned both were gone. The moon setting and somehow they had remembered that it would be better to change in the prepared bathroom.
Silently I closed the guestroom door and made my way to our living room. I was happy that the night was over and rather proud how everything has turned out, in the end we really managed fine.

Before I slipped under the cover, I pulled both Micah’s and Nathaniel’s back so that they only needed to lie down. I was aware how tired they would be, most likely worse as after a normal shift, and Nathaniel would not to be aroused for at least the next twelve hours.

I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Where were my men? Fallen asleep on their feet? Had something happened to them? Grumpily I climbed out of bed and pulled a robe on before I started to look for my boys. I had not to go far.

Around the corner I nearly bumped into Micah who was caring Nathaniel in his arms. He had slung the long strands of auburn silk around his hand, to prevent tripping over it.

Nathaniel had already succumbed to sleep and instinctively cuddled closer to Micah’s chest.
Micah was doing better, but only slightly he was swaying and had trouble to keep his eyes open. He was clearly fatigued; making mischief must have been as exhausting for them as it had been for me to play babysitter.

Micah had to lean back against the wall to steady himself or he would have fallen over. He looked out of round glassy eyes at me, but his face was passive. Both of them ought to be in bed, and there was no reason at all to stay around in the uncomfortable corridor. But Micah had clearly hesitated
to enter, worried about something.

I guessed what it was, he had seen the muddy paw prints, smelled the blood of the dead rabbit, out of the guestroom some feathers had sneaked downstairs on a slight draft and maybe he had a dim reminiscence on the night’s events. All in all it made him unsure what to expect of me.

”Have we been too much of a trouble, we had never intended to be so bad!” he assured me and shifted his weight uncomfortably from one leg to the other. The last thing I needed was him feeling guilty about this.

Instinctively knowing what Micah needed most, unconditional support and love from me for once. He gave it so often and now I would return a little bit.

I hugged him let my fingers trail over his soft skin and pressed a kiss on to his cheek.

”No! No, trouble at all.” I lied, “Honest, all was fine.”

Micah looked unconvinced but permitted himself to be pulled into our bedroom. I could feel how trembles worked their way trough his body, he was so overtired that he would have stumbled and fallen on the last meters if I had not been there to support him.

We got Nathaniel settled in, who curled into a tight ball to sleep as his body met the cold sheet, as he always did when he was alone in bed. I knew he would relax the second he felt someone beside him, and I was looking forward to holding and cuddling with him, and guarding his sleep for a while.

Micah could not suppress a yawn, and rubbed his eyes with a fist like an overtired little boy, it was really cute, before he got a chance to protest I gently pushed him down and slipped into bed myself.

My place was in the middle so that I could wrap an arm around either of my boys and both snuggled close. Nathaniel had spooned himself around my back. I turned my head to press a peck onto his forehead and mumbled, “I would not know what to do without you. I love you.”

But nobody heard the commitment I voiced so seldom, perhaps I should not shy away so often from telling them how much loved they were, and with this last thought I followed them to the lands of dreams.
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Caring for the furry