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Welcome back to the wonderful world of Kitten2010 and Gweall. I think we decided on Gwitten or Kweall…or Kitteall…or Gweallten. ANYWAYS

Read it. Please and thank you!

oh, and P.S. There is ONE reference in this story (From Gweall not Kitten) And, just to help you out, it’s a Doctor Who reference. Come on, you know how I love to sneak references in there to see who can get ’em.


Declan entered the museum. It was immediately clear what was missing. Display spotlights shone on a huge expanse of blank wall. Declan wasn’t sure how the thief had managed to get the painting out, but his nose had no doubts as to who it was. The area wreaked of cat. He wrinkled his nose in disgust as he tried to ignore the unexplainable anger that rose up.

The scent made it hard to focus on what the other law enforcement officials were saying. When Declan finally was able to get out of his head, he was lost. This was the fourth robbery of the type. The others didn’t have his keen sense of smell and they had yet to figure out that the thief had to be some sort of a cat mutant. Declan was hesitant to offer this piece of evidence.

He was the only of the Infected to return to a career in law enforcement and it was a huge controversy for some people. Though the Infected had been integrated and were supposed to be treated as equals, many still held on to the old prejudice. Declan knew that if he told them it was an Infected, their hatred would start to surface and he would lose credibility, but he faced the same if they discovered he’d known and hadn’t spoken up.

When he realized that his colleagues were preparing for action, Declan spoke up. “I can question the museum employees.”

One of the uniformed officers sneered at Declan, “They might be allergic to dogs.”

Declan gave the policeman a menacing look and fought back the urge to growl. It was physically painful for him to suppress the urge, but he would not be mocked. His entire motivation for returning to law enforcement even after some of the horrors he and other Infected had endured was to make sure that prejudice was wiped out. Instead, Declan took a long breath in, memorizing the scent. He felt his hunting instincts taking over as he started to track the scent out onto the street.


Micah walked across the stone rooftops. He counted the cash one more time before shoving it in the back pocket of his tight leather pants. He was still surprised he had no problem walking in the tight things. His shoes clicked on the edge of the rooftop, and made a delightful sound as he jumped across the gap with ease. He felt his claws inside his shoes, and hoped he didn’t ruin another pair. He cracked his knuckles, careful of the claws on his hands. His tail swished back and forth happily, the silver fur reflecting the moonlight. His ears twitched with the sounds of the nightlife, and his smooth white whiskers jumped at the feel of the cool night air. He hated the cold.

He had dropped the painting off at his buyer’s meeting spot just a few minutes ago. The job was easy enough. Get in, grab painting, get out. He almost chuckled at the ease of it. He had pulled much harder cons when he was still a child, not that he was proud of that. He dropped down onto the fire escape and slid down the rusted metal ladder. He stepped inside the fourth story window. The skin on his bare chest adjusted to the warmth of the run down apartment. There was a hole in the ceiling, which black smoke poured out of. His dad sat around a large metal barrel. The fire roared inside the Barrel and Micah made sure he got close enough for his fur to be warmed by the flames.

“Here,” He threw the wad of cash onto his fathers lap. “Your money.” He sat down on the empty box next to the flame and rubbed his arms, trying to warm them.

“Thank you.” His father said. He counted the money quickly before putting the cash into his jacket and pulling out a medium sized bag. “My friend is meeting you on the corner of Cohasset and Lassen. He owes me eight hundred for this. Get it to him for me, would you?”

“I’m sick of running your drugs for you. The cops are all over that part of town.” Micah said, looking at him with his silvery eyes.

“You’ll be fine. You’re sneaky enough.” His father laughed.

“It’s not funny.” Micah stood up. He grabbed the bag roughly, pulling it from his fathers hands and walking quickly towards the window. He had one leg out before his father spoke again.

“Watch those claws.” His dad looked up and smiled, his silver tooth shining in the light of the fire.

“Whatever.” Micah said. He climbed the ladder quickly and jumped from rooftop to rooftop again. His phone vibrated once and he pulled it out of the small pocket he had managed to squeeze it into.

“Where are you?” The stern voice said on the other end of the phone.

“Christian, what a surprised you called me again.” Micah mumbled the last part.

“What?” Christian snapped.

“Nothing.” Micah didn’t pause as he jumped across the gap between buildings again.

“I bahis firmaları asked you a question.” Christian said.

“I’m doing a job for my dad.” Micah said.

“I need you to do a run for me, get over here.” Christian said.

“When did I become some god damn henchman?” Micah stopped walking and snapped at the phone.

“When you decided to date me, now get over here.” The line went dead. Micah growled and hissed before changing direction and heading towards his own home. Unaware of the eyes that watched him below.


Declan’s eyes shot up when he realized the fresh scent was floating down on him. He only caught a glimpse of tight pants and a flash of a tail before the figure was gone. He ran down the street, uncaring of the people he knocked out of his way as he chased after the figure. He saw his prey look back at him for a brief second and their pace quickened. The cat hybrid was much faster than Declan was and for a moment the detective wondered if he was going to lose the thief.

Declan saw the figure drop onto the fire escape of the building up ahead. Declan started to run. After his mutations, he’d found that he was extremely fast and it was clear the fleeing thief had no idea just how fast Declan was. He was able to corner the escaping criminal in an alley.

“You’re faster than I thought.” The criminal smiled, showing his gleaming white teeth. His back was to the dead end and his tail swished nervously..

“I can see that,” Declan said as he pulled his credentials, following protocol. “I’m going to have to ask you to come with me for some questions.”

“I don’t think so, Mcgruff.” The criminal laughed and walked the width of the alley slowly, teasing him with his silvery blue eyes.

Declan sighed at the nickname. “Let’s try to be above petty name calling,” he said. “I just want to ask you a few questions. If you cooperate, I’ll leave out the part about the drugs you’re carrying.” Declan smiled and tapped his nose. Though it still looked human, he had a heightened sense of smell.

“You’re not the only one with some tricks up his sleeve, Mcgruff.” The cat smiled, showing a Cheshire grin. He ran at Declan quickly and before he had time to react, he had jumped over his head. He climbed up the fire escape faster than any normal human could have, and disappeared over the rooftop before Declan could blink. His shoulders hurt from where the cat had pushed off of them, and he moved down the neck line of his shirt to reveal a few minor scratches his claws had left.

Declan cursed silently to himself. He couldn’t believe he’d let the criminal escape. He felt like steam should have been coming from his ears as he watched the cat escape. He was just glad he wouldn’t have to explain himself to anyone else.


Micah slid in through the window. He wondered when the last time he had actually used a door was. He shook off the thought and set down the bag his father had given him. He looked around for Christian and didn’t see a sign of him.


“You’re late.” His boyfriend stood up from where he was sitting in the shadows. Micah watched him as he walked over. Christian always had a menacing air about him, but Micah had learned when he was really mad. And this was one of those times.

“Where were you?”

“I ran into some stupid cop.” Micah said.

“And you came back here? Do you know how much coke I have stashed in this place?” Christian brought his voice down to a whisper. He slid his hand around Micah’s throat. Just as easily as a normal person would put their hand over a friends mouth to keep him or her quiet. Micah tried not to fight and tried to keep calm, but it was hard with his airway closed off like that. His tail swished nervously and his whiskers vibrated with tension.

“I swear, he didn’t follow me. I would have known. He’s a dog, I could smell him from a mile away.” Micah said, choking for breath between words. Christian dropped him and Micah’s hand went up to feel his sore throat. He knew he would be feeling that for days.

“God you’re so stupid.” Christian rolled his eyes and walked into the living room.

“If I’m so stupid, then why am I the one pulling all your cons and deliveries.” Micah waved a hand at the bag of drugs sitting on the table.

“Because you’re good at it. You don’t have to be smart to be a thief.” Christian said. Micah glared at him.

“Those need to go to Rory.” Christian pointed to a bag similar to the one Micah’s father had given him.

“If Rory takes anymore of that crap he’s going to die.” Micah rolled his eyes.

“It’s expected by now, really.” Christian said. Micah shrugged.

“Christian, I’m done with this. I’ve told you repeatedly I don’t want to be a con anymore.” Micah said.

“And I told you repeatedly, you’re not quitting.” Christian said, without turning around.

“You cant stop me.” Micah said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. He was so calm when he was facing the cops, or stealing something, or pulling a con. But when it came kaçak iddaa to the rest of his life, it just wasn’t his area of expertise.

“No?” Christian turned his head to the side slightly.

“I’m done with this. I don’t want to be running from the cops twenty four seven. I’m ready to….” Micah hesitated. “I’m ready to settle down. I want a family. Kids, even.” He said. “I want kids who can say that they’re proud of their dad. Not that he’s some bullshit drug dealer.” Micah waved his hand at the bags on the table.

“You couldn’t be a fucking father. You’re a con artist, Micah. No one will ever want to settle down with you, and no one would ever want you to be anywhere near their kids.” Christian laughed and turned around. He leaned up against the table with a drink in his hands.

“You’re wrong.” Micah said quietly. He looked at the ground and his heart hurt with Christians words. His greatest fear was that he was right.

“You still pull jobs for your dad, why not me?” Christian asked.

“That’s different.” Micah looked up.

“Why? Because you want to make the old fucker proud of you?” Christian sneered. “Your dad’s a dirty con, and so are you. In fact, you’re just another con of his. He doesn’t really love you.” Christian said it like it was obvious.

“You’re wrong!” Micah shouted. Christian threw his drink at the wall and the glass shattered. He was across the room faster than Micah could realize and the last thing Micah saw was Christian’s fist being pulled back, preparing to come down on him harder than the words that he had spoken only a moment ago.


Micah crawled through the window and crashed to the floor, he whined and held his ribs in agony.

“Micah? What happened to you? Did the cops catch you?”

“No, it…” He knew it wasn’t what his father wanted to hear, but he wanted to tell him. He wanted everything to be okay. “It was Christian.” He admitted.

“Christian? Oh Jesus, Micah. I thought we had gone over this?” His father threw his arms up and turned his back to Micah.

“We have, and I told you.” Micah grunted as he sat up against the wall under the window. “I’m gay.”

“No, you’re not. This is what happens when you do something as stupid as date a man.” His father said, gesturing to his ribs and black eyes. His fur was matted with blood and he took in air in short sharp gasps.

“I don’t want to be with a woman, dad.” Micah said.

“You’re not gay, Micah. Where’s my money, also?” His dad asked. Micah paused, uh oh.

“I didn’t get a chance to deliver them. I’m sorry. Christian called me halfway there and needed me at home.” Micah said.

“Ugh, he’s not going to be happy about this.” Micah’s dad said, referring to his buyer. “Where’s the coke then?” Micah hesitated. “You left it there?!” His father shouted.

“I’m sorry! Just send someone to pick it up, Christian wont do anything with it.” Micah said, but didn’t even believe the words himself.

“Get out.” His father said coldly.

“Dad…I’m hurt, I need your help.” Micah said. This wasn’t the first time Christian had done something like this. He didn’t usually need any medical help, but he could hardly move this time.

“I said get out.” His father kicked a rotted piece of floorboard at him. Micah hid behind his arm before forcing himself up, and crawling out the window.



Declan’s pride still stung as he arrived home, though the scratches seemed like they would heal fast. His phone chirped from his pocket and he answered it as he was unlocking the door. “Declan Moss,” he said.

“Moss, this is Chief Vick,” a stern female voice said. “I know you’re on the museum robberies, but we could really use a fresh set of eyes. There’s been a string of murders. We think it’s a serial, but we can’t confirm.”

Declan nodded. Of course he’d heard about the murders and his pride stung at the fact he hadn’t been invited on the case sooner. His dad loved making snide remarks about it at their Friday night dinners. “I can look at it first thing in the morning,” Declan said. “I really need to catch up on some reports tonight.” It was a lie, but Declan had a selfish need to sound important.

“Thanks, Moss. I don’t know if you’ll catch anything we haven’t yet, but maybe you will,” the chief worked in a minor insult as she hung up.

Declan sighed and pushed the door open. He heard a loud crash soon after he did so and his ears perked up. He turned toward the source of the sound. He was standing upwind, so he couldn’t detect the smell. He closed the door and went to investigate.

The sound had come from a few trash cans toppling over. Declan could see a slender young man struggling to get up. His protective instincts took over and he rushed to aide the distressed individual before realizing that it was the thief.

“Ugh, you smell like dog.” The thief spoke, before looking up and realizing who his savior was.

“Well, you smell like cat and garbage,” Declan replied. “What the fuck happened to you?”

“It doesn’t matter, get kaçak bahis your hands off of me, Mcgruff.” The thief used the same nickname he had back in the alley.

“Be a good kitty and let me see if you’re hurt,” Declan said. “I’m still an officer of the law. Protect and serve, all that shit still applies here.”

“I said get your hands off of me.” The cat elbowed him away and stood up, gripping his side in pain. He began skittering away as fast as his obviously injured body would allow him.

Declan let out a frustrated sigh and lunged after the cat. He reached out blindly and gripped the criminal by the back of the neck, finding a loose bit of furry skin provided a handle for him. The criminal went limp against Declan and the detective used the opportunity to get a better hold on the thief. Declan was shocked that the criminal had started to make a soft purring sound. Declan laughed, for a moment forgetting that he was dealing with a criminal. “That’s a good kitty. I’m going to take you inside, alright?”

“Not alright, I told you to let me go.” The criminal said, though there was no longer any real resistance in his voice. The purring came from deep within his chest and was a soothing sound, even to Declan.

“Stop being so fucking difficult,” Declan said gruffly. “I’m off duty right now. If you cooperate I might even cut you a deal.”

“What kind of deal?” the thief asked, though his eyes were shut as Declan’s hand stayed wrapped around the furred skin of his neck. He tried to keep up with the conversation, but it was becoming to easy to just drift off to sleep right there.

Declan rolled his eyes. “Well, show me how helpful you can be and that will decide what kind of deal,” Declan said. “I’m going to take you inside and clean you up. Unless you’re afraid of water, then I can just let you lick yourself.”

“Look who’s talking, I had a dog when I was little. Are you sure you don’t want me to give you and your dick some alone time on the edge of the bed?” The thief asked as he slowly let Declan pull him inside the house, still half awake due to the firm grip Declan had on his neck.

“Believe me, if I’d gotten that particular talent, I wouldn’t leave the house. How about you stop being a smart ass for a minute? You’re still trying to get on my good side. Why don’t you tell me your name to start off?” The thief hesitated for a second. Declan couldn’t tell if he was asleep or thinking.

“Micah. Now how about yours? Or I could keep calling you Mcgruff. But honestly, even after you tell me I’ll probably keep the nickname.” Micah managed to open his silvery blue eyes and stare at Declan.

Declan opened the door and helped Micah to the bathroom of his house. “My name is Declan. Detective Moss, to you. And if you call me Mcgruff again, I’ll pull your tail.” Micah grunted as Declan sat him down on the side of the bathtub, his hand still around his ribs.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Micah smiled, now that Declan had let go of his neck he was beginning to get some form of coherent thought back. “I thought you were supposed to be man’s best friend? Best friends don’t pull tails.” Micah sneered at him with a mischievous grin in his eyes.

Declan turned the water on and plugged the drain. “Well, you’re a cat and I’ve already been a little too nice to you.” There were a few inches of water covering the bottom of the tub and Declan shoved Micah in. He stood and threw a clean washcloth at the thief, laughing at the cat’s angry reaction.

Micah’s ears were laid down flat against his head and he growled low in protest. Declan laughed and Micah swiped at him with a clawed hand. His small pointed teeth were bared and he didn’t look happy.

“You’re going to pay for that later, Mcgruff.” He hissed again. Sounding more like a pissed off snake than a human hybrid.

Declan shrugged. “It was worth it. Now wash yourself off.”

“Do you know how hard it is to get this fur dry?” Micah was still hissing as he gently scrubbed away the bits of blood that flecked his fur. “You’re going to be fluffing me with a towel for hours.” He hissed for the thousandth time.

“Quit with the hissing. You don’t really look so tough right now and I’m trying really hard to stop laughing at you.” Declan leaned against the wall. “So you wanna tell me what happened? Did you get in a fight over an empty tuna can or something?”

“Go fetch a stick, dog boy.” Micah glared at him as he gently washed blood off of his face, revealing a black eye hidden underneath the very light fur on his face. He didn’t look happy, and it wasn’t just because of the water. It was obvious he had something else running through his head.

Declan sighed. “Alright, you need to start playing nice. I’ll try to stop making jokes if you will. Truce?” Micah glared up at him with angry, yet sorrowful eyes. It was obvious he was caving.

“Why bother. There’s nothing you can do to help.” Micah said. He washed off the last of the blood and dirt and tried to stand up, but crying out and falling back into the water holding his tender torso. “These pants are hard enough to get off as it is, it’s not going to be fun when they’re wet. And this is real leather you just ruined by the way.” Micah tried to change the subject as Declan helped him out of the bathtub.

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