Lucy, Wyatt and Rufus stumbled blearily out of the back entrance to Mason Industries' warehouse, marching single-file like zombies towards the darkened parking lot. They'd just spent three days at Woodstock for what ended up being a wild goose chase, and the Time Team was exhausted. Lucy, muttering to herself and distracted by a frantic search for her car keys in the bottom of her purse, runs smack into Wyatt, who has come to an abrupt stop, senses on high alert.

mew, mew

"Do you guys hear something?" he whispers.

Rufus turns around, incredulousness mixing with exhaustion. "Dude, I think you're hearing things."

Wyatt shakes his head, gesturing for Rufus to be quiet, while simultaneously reaching behind him to still the insistent shaking of Lucy's purse.

The sound gets a tiny bit louder, amplified by the stillness of the pitch-black evening.

mew, mew

Rufus stills, realizing that the noise can only be a cat somewhere on the premises. "Okay, I definitely heard that, but where is it coming from?"

Wyatt closes his eyes, concentrating. "No trees for a cat to get stuck in, must be coming from somewhere in the warehouse." Reaching into his pocket, he flings his car keys to Rufus, who deftly catches them in his left hand. "There's a mini flashlight in the console in my truck, can you grab it for me?"

As Rufus jogs off toward the parking lot, Lucy and Wyatt start feeling along the wall of the building, trying to find any gaps that might conceal a small animal.

"I never would have pegged you for a cat person, Wyatt," she teases. She can barely see his trademark smirk in the dark as he chuckles ruefully while systematically patting the stones.

"Cats were the only pets I was allowed to have as a kid. My mom was okay with them, because she thought they were easier to care for than dogs." The meowing gets slightly more insistent, and Wyatt realizes that the noise is coming from closer to the ground. He drops on all fours, running his hands along the base of the building, when he comes across a hole.

"Wyatt, catch!" Rufus calls as he tosses the flashlight at Wyatt's now-prone form.

He beams the tiny light in the hole in the stones, and is greeted by a pair of round blue eyes. Peering closer, he determines that the kitten doesn't appear to be stuck, just scared. "Hey there, kitty," he croons softly, "were you hiding out in there when it was raining the other day? It's okay, you can c'mon out here, it's nice and dry now." All he gets is another faint "mew" for his troubles, and he can't see Lucy and Rufus exchanging amused grins behind his back at this unexpected side of their friend.

"Damn, she's backed herself all the way into the hole and it's too small for any of us to reach in and grab her. Lucy, can you check the breakroom and see if there's anything in the fridge we can use to coax her out? I think I remember someone leaving a stash of string cheese in there, they won't miss one."

"Sure thing, be right back."

Rufus drops to the ground, his back against the wall, watching with amusement as Wyatt becomes increasingly frustrated by his inability to coax the cat from her hiding place. "No offense, man, but I always pictured you as a dog kind of guy."

"We moved around a lot when I was a kid. Cats were more manageable. Haven't had a pet since I was a teenager and I moved in with my Gramps, though. As it turns out, I'm allergic to dogs, and Jess was allergic to cats. No pets for us."

Rufus crumples at the realization that he might have inadvertently struck a sad memory. "Seriously? That sucks."

Wyatt pulls himself off the ground, resigned to the fact that Operation Rescue Kitten will not resume until Lucy returns, hopefully with something tempting enough to bring the kitten out of her hiding place. He decides not to examine why, all of a sudden, rescuing this cat has become the most important item on his to-do list for the day, and sighs as he leans up against the wall next to Rufus, mental and physical exhaustion washing over him.

"I didn't find out about the allergy until after I enlisted, strangely enough. It came up in my physical and was a red flag when they tried to assign me to an IED disposal unit. Turns out I'm especially sensitive to German Shepherds."

They can hear the slamming of the warehouse door in the distance as Lucy jogs over to where they sit, a package of string cheese in her hands. Wyatt flicks the light back on as she lines up small chunks of cheese on the ground. "Come on out, sweetie," she coos, "aren't you hungry? There's more where this came from if you come out of there." She sets more small chunks of cheese further away from the hole as the cat's whiskers peek out from the gap, tentatively nibbling on the cheese.

As soon she's emerged halfway out of the hole, Wyatt wraps his hands around the cat's middle and slowly works her out from inside the building, lifting her close to his face to examine her. It's hard to tell with only the weak light emanating from the parking lot, but he thinks she's a ginger, and as she swats ineffectually at his face, he's charmed by her tiny face and oversized paws. Rufus reaches over to scratch her head and peers at her more closely.

"What happened to her ears?" he asks.

Wyatt traces his fingers gently over her head to find that yes, her ears are almost completely folded over. "She must be a Scottish Fold. It's a genetic thing."

Lucy, of course, is the one to dump cold water on the cuteness by addressing more practical matters. "I'm guessing she doesn't have a collar or tags?"

Wyatt sighs. "Nope, no collar. Based on her size, I'd bet she's no more than twelve weeks old or so? Old enough to be away from her mama and siblings, at least." The kitten gives up on her unsuccessful attempts at using his face as a scratching post, and starts purring loudly as he cuddles her tightly to his chest.

Rufus grins knowingly. "Looks like you've got a new friend there, buddy." Pulling out his phone, he makes a show of checking the time, but the three of them all know he's expecting a text from Jiya. "I need to get home before I drop dead of exhaustion, so I'm gonna leave you two lovebirds here. G'night."

"Night, Rufus," Lucy and Wyatt respond in unison to his retreating back.

"Are you gonna keep her?"

Wyatt's hands still, and the kitten, annoyed that he is no longer scratching her belly, swats at him again. "I guess I hadn't thought that far ahead, but yeah, I think I might. My building allows small pets, so it should be fine. There's a Target that's open 24 hours near my place, we can pick up some supplies right now."

"How about we drop her off at your apartment first? I think we're probably not going to be allowed to bring her in to Target."

"Probably right. Do you mind driving my truck? I'm afraid if I take her home by myself I'll get too distracted trying to keep an eye on her. I promise we'll come back for your car first thing in the morning."

She sticks her hand out expectantly for his keys. "It's fine. Let's get you and your new roommate home."

The ride back to Wyatt's place was swift and uneventful, though Lucy could swear that Wyatt fell asleep briefly and started snoring. Getting the kitten settled temporarily proved more problematic, as she was wary of her new surroundings, digging her tiny claws into Wyatt's shirt and yowling pitifully as Wyatt tried to settle her in his guest bathroom with a small saucer of milk. Twenty minutes later, Lucy successfully dragged Wyatt out the door, meows still ringing in their ears. She was just thankful that most of his neighbors were out for the evening, and therefore probably wouldn't notice the din.

"C'mon, Wyatt," she pleaded as she hustled him out the door, "the sooner we get to Target, the sooner we get back and she'll settle down."

The 24-hour Target near Wyatt's apartment was all but dead at 11:45 on a Friday night, allowing them to snag a cart easily and head straight to the pet supplies aisle. They picked out a collar, litter box and food and water dishes quickly, but when it came to food options, Wyatt stopped to evaluate every bag of dry food and most of the cans of wet food, before deciding to pull small bags of several different brands to try. As he dumps the bags in the cart, he catches Lucy observing him with a raised eyebrow, an expression he's almost certain she's picked up from him.

"What?" he asks, feigning innocence.

"You just gave more thought to those bags of cat food than you give to what you feed yourself most of the time," she replies with a smile.

"She's just a kitten," he huffs, slightly defensively. "Someone's got to look out for her."

She steers the cart further down the aisle towards the toys and beds. "Anything else you want to get while we're here?"

Wyatt rubs his eyes tiredly. "Nah. She'll need a bed and some toys, but there's a pet store not far from here. I can get more stuff tomorrow when she's settled."

They check out, load the goodies into the truck and head back for home, where the kitten is still meowing her lungs out before she's released from her temporary prison. Wyatt sets up her litter box in the laundry room and sets out her food and water dishes in the kitchen, which she attacks enthusiastically. He swoops down to pick her up before she's able to finish off the entire bowl, rolling her to her back and tickling her tummy.

"Whoa there, tiger, slow your roll a little bit. Don't want you to get sick and start puking your guts up on your first night home, do we?"

Lucy peeks her head in the kitchen doorway. "She is pretty darn cute, I have to admit. I don't think 'Tiger' quite suits her, though." She reaches over to tickle the kitten under her chin. "What should Wyatt name you, hmm?"

"I think she looks like a Sadie."

Lucy nods approvingly as Sadie's tiny, sandpapery tongue swipes over her fingertips. "She seems to like it. Nice to meet you, Sadie."

As Sadie swats Lucy's hands away and wriggles so she's cuddled closer to Wyatt. Lucy chuckles knowingly. "Okay, I see how it is. I'm gonna crash in the guest bedroom. I'll see you two in the morning."

Wyatt holds Sadie up, waving one of her paws. "Good night, Lucy," he squeaks in a comically high-pitched voice.

9:00 A.M, Saturday morning.

After waking up much later than her usual on a Saturday, Lucy dresses for a morning run, to be followed by a stop at her favorite bakery just a few blocks away from Wyatt's apartment. She;s stopped short in her attempt to tiptoe out his front door quietly by the sight in his living room.

There, flopped on his couch where he must have fallen asleep the night before, is Wyatt, still dressed in last night's clothes. Sadie is stretched out across his chest, also asleep and purring loudly, her head tucked up just under his chin.

Lucy stealthily opens the camera app on her phone and takes a couple of quick snaps. Flipping through the pictures, she selects her favorite and texts it to Rufus and Jiya with the following caption:

Meet Wyatt's new roommate, Sadie. I think this may be the start of a beautiful friendship.