Title: SB
Author: Ash ([1]AshletX512@aol.com)
Disclaimer: The characters of Alias belong to JJ Abrams and ABC, but SB is mine. As in I really own her. Except it's a he and his name is Cheddar. And this won't make sense until you read so I won't waste anymore of your time.
Summary: Just a drabble. Vaughn relaxes, watches his cat, and thinks about Sydney.
Finished 2/17/02
~~
It's Friday night and I take this quiet time to relax. It's a beautiful evening and I sit outside by the kidney shaped pool in my backyard. Something catches my eye and I notice that SB is on another chase. I watch her as she shoots across the green grass and over the chain link fence within seconds. She fast, I wish I could run like that.
Though I never thought it would happen originally, I have come to love my little brown cat. Alice, being a major animal lover, could not refuse her when she showed up on my porch one rainy Saturday night, hungry and wet. I was opposed to the idea of taking in another animal, since we already had two cats. But Alice looked at me with those puppy dog eyes and I melted. She gave the kitten a bath and named her Sugar Bun, or Sweetie Boo, or something equally inane and childish.
I just called the cat SB, so maybe that's why she took a strong, immediate liking to me, and wouldn't even eat the food Alice set out for her. I thought it was hilarious, since she was the one who wanted to adopt the stray in the first place, but Alice would just always mumble something about how she was happy that I had a cat of my own and didn't mind that she wasn't liked. Yet almost 5 times a week she would attempt to make a connection with the little beast and scowled when it didn't work.
I wasn't surprised when Alice left SB with me when we broke up. Though we lived together for two years, everything we had was basically his-and-hers so she took all her stuff and moved out. Simple as that. I think the stupid cat is all that's left of her.
As I think that last thought, SB turns and looks at me from across the yard. I take that back. She's not stupid. She's very perceptive. It's as if she can tell what mood I'm in and how to approach me. Right now she finds me unacceptable and trots off down the alley.
Though the other pets we owned were indoor only cats, SB could never stand for that. It might be the freedom she craved, of not being trapped by the walls of the house the other cats couldn't leave. Or it could be innate. Because she was a stray, she was probably born outside and that's the only thing she knows.
Something must have changed that day she showed up on our doorstep, though. It must have been so hard for her outside...I wouldn't imagine her as a beggar, but she needed help.
She's comfortable here now. Even though she has the most fun outside, she makes her presence heard in the house at least once a day and often greets me when I come home from work. She's perfectly friendly and curls up on my lap as I watch the nightly news. But she has her other life outside, beyond the walls of the house.
She runs off with other cats, I presume, but I wonder what they all do. I imagine them all walking down the street, a pack of stray cats and this makes me happy. I'm different from her and I'm glad she gets what she needs from others.
Sometimes she comes home to me hurt and won't let me clean her wounds. I've tried, but she would rather lick them herself than to get hurt even more. I wish I could help her in that way. After she's finished helping herself, she's more than happy to spend some quality time with me. Her presence is the only thing that's partially normal in my life.
In these ways she reminds me of Sydney. There's this part of her that I will probably never be a part of, but I would love to. I'm just here to fill this void in their lives, and they trust me. Though that statement sounds depressing, that I only matter to one person and a cat, I'm satisfied with it.
It's getting dark but I'm still enjoying my back yard. I never really get time to relax and not worry about anything, but this weekend is different. SB is coming back now. Just when I think she's born to be outside, a true hunter, she surprises me by acting completely vulnerable and seems to need me.
She jumps up onto my lap and curls up into my chest. She does the amazing cat thing and falls asleep within seconds. Completely peaceful. I only wish this same quality for Sydney, that she is not plagued with the same nightmares of worry that I am.
Since I'm too nice to get up and disturb her sleep, I decide this lawn chair in my yard is as good as place as any to sleep tonight. Sometimes I wish my life could be different, that I could have a certain brunette human in this position, but I'm content for now. It's just me and SB.
~~
Fini
A/N: Not what I usually write, but the idea came to me while I was, like Vaughn in the story, watching my cat frolic in the back yard. Please review and tell me "Write seriously like you normally do" if you want me to stop. :)
References
1. mailto:AshletX512@aol.com
Author: Ash ([1]AshletX512@aol.com)
Disclaimer: The characters of Alias belong to JJ Abrams and ABC, but SB is mine. As in I really own her. Except it's a he and his name is Cheddar. And this won't make sense until you read so I won't waste anymore of your time.
Summary: Just a drabble. Vaughn relaxes, watches his cat, and thinks about Sydney.
Finished 2/17/02
~~
It's Friday night and I take this quiet time to relax. It's a beautiful evening and I sit outside by the kidney shaped pool in my backyard. Something catches my eye and I notice that SB is on another chase. I watch her as she shoots across the green grass and over the chain link fence within seconds. She fast, I wish I could run like that.
Though I never thought it would happen originally, I have come to love my little brown cat. Alice, being a major animal lover, could not refuse her when she showed up on my porch one rainy Saturday night, hungry and wet. I was opposed to the idea of taking in another animal, since we already had two cats. But Alice looked at me with those puppy dog eyes and I melted. She gave the kitten a bath and named her Sugar Bun, or Sweetie Boo, or something equally inane and childish.
I just called the cat SB, so maybe that's why she took a strong, immediate liking to me, and wouldn't even eat the food Alice set out for her. I thought it was hilarious, since she was the one who wanted to adopt the stray in the first place, but Alice would just always mumble something about how she was happy that I had a cat of my own and didn't mind that she wasn't liked. Yet almost 5 times a week she would attempt to make a connection with the little beast and scowled when it didn't work.
I wasn't surprised when Alice left SB with me when we broke up. Though we lived together for two years, everything we had was basically his-and-hers so she took all her stuff and moved out. Simple as that. I think the stupid cat is all that's left of her.
As I think that last thought, SB turns and looks at me from across the yard. I take that back. She's not stupid. She's very perceptive. It's as if she can tell what mood I'm in and how to approach me. Right now she finds me unacceptable and trots off down the alley.
Though the other pets we owned were indoor only cats, SB could never stand for that. It might be the freedom she craved, of not being trapped by the walls of the house the other cats couldn't leave. Or it could be innate. Because she was a stray, she was probably born outside and that's the only thing she knows.
Something must have changed that day she showed up on our doorstep, though. It must have been so hard for her outside...I wouldn't imagine her as a beggar, but she needed help.
She's comfortable here now. Even though she has the most fun outside, she makes her presence heard in the house at least once a day and often greets me when I come home from work. She's perfectly friendly and curls up on my lap as I watch the nightly news. But she has her other life outside, beyond the walls of the house.
She runs off with other cats, I presume, but I wonder what they all do. I imagine them all walking down the street, a pack of stray cats and this makes me happy. I'm different from her and I'm glad she gets what she needs from others.
Sometimes she comes home to me hurt and won't let me clean her wounds. I've tried, but she would rather lick them herself than to get hurt even more. I wish I could help her in that way. After she's finished helping herself, she's more than happy to spend some quality time with me. Her presence is the only thing that's partially normal in my life.
In these ways she reminds me of Sydney. There's this part of her that I will probably never be a part of, but I would love to. I'm just here to fill this void in their lives, and they trust me. Though that statement sounds depressing, that I only matter to one person and a cat, I'm satisfied with it.
It's getting dark but I'm still enjoying my back yard. I never really get time to relax and not worry about anything, but this weekend is different. SB is coming back now. Just when I think she's born to be outside, a true hunter, she surprises me by acting completely vulnerable and seems to need me.
She jumps up onto my lap and curls up into my chest. She does the amazing cat thing and falls asleep within seconds. Completely peaceful. I only wish this same quality for Sydney, that she is not plagued with the same nightmares of worry that I am.
Since I'm too nice to get up and disturb her sleep, I decide this lawn chair in my yard is as good as place as any to sleep tonight. Sometimes I wish my life could be different, that I could have a certain brunette human in this position, but I'm content for now. It's just me and SB.
~~
Fini
A/N: Not what I usually write, but the idea came to me while I was, like Vaughn in the story, watching my cat frolic in the back yard. Please review and tell me "Write seriously like you normally do" if you want me to stop. :)
References
1. mailto:AshletX512@aol.com