Notes: Something different this time. Short chapters and yes, eventually Lizzington too.

Thank you to heaterpeters for the beta.

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I was born, raised, and lived as a feral cat in 'Little Falls Park' in Washington, D.C.

As a kitten, I used to live with my parents and siblings in a colony in areas that provide shelter, food and water, mostly around garbage dumpsters. However, I grew restless when I got older. I wanted to see and explore the world, so one day I simply left them to live on my own.

I typically hid during daylight hours, slept under a bush or in the trunk of a tree where I wasn't disturbed. At night, I roamed around the park, hunted for mice and birds and guarded my territory.

While the park met the basic survival needs in summer, it was difficult each winter.

One evening, I crept along the creek and scratching my claws on a tree, when I noticed two strange humans walking off the beaten track. One of them was elegantly dressed in a three-piece suit and hat, the other was all black from skin to clothes. The black man carried a briefcase and a gun and looked rather grim.

I knew a gun was a deadly weapon, because I had witnessed a ranger shooting a wild fox when I was still a kitten, so I always made sure to avoid the ranger at all costs.

But if I had one weakness, it was the fact that I was a curious being. So, inquisitive as to what they were up to, I silently followed them, until the rustling of dry leaves on the ground gave me away.

The man in the suit quickly turned at the noise and stared at me. I stared back for long seconds. I noticed from the corner of my eye that the black man had raised his gun. Startled and desperate to escape, I slipped on the outer edge of the creek. It had rained all night and the ground had softened. In my haste, I lost my balance, tripped and fell into the creek, where the rushing water quickly swept me away.

I let out gut-wrenching meows, helplessly paddled with my paws, but it was no use, the safe shore had vanished from my sight.

I thought this was the end. I would soon drown in the freezing cold water, but then I was suddenly scooped up with a hat. When I looked up I saw the man in the suit, standing in waist-deep water.

He had rescued me.

My fur was soaked and my entire body shivered from the chill. I was frightened! What would the man do with me now that he'd caught me? Was this my death after all?

I had no experience with humans. My survival instinct had always told me to avoid any interaction. My parents had taught me to be cautious of them, apparently there were good ones and bad ones. I continued to remain in a state of shock; too exhausted to try to escape, so I just crouched inside his hat, very scared and anxiously awaiting my fate.

The man waded back through the water to safe grounds and was just as drenched as I was. The black man helped him from the water, then scolded him. They quickly walked back the way they'd come.

He continued to carry me inside the warm wool of his hat, occasionally smiling at me, all the while passionately discussing the necessity of my rescue with his friend. They both suddenly stopped dead in their tracks when we heard gun fire echoing through the park.

They ducked their heads and hurried to a big black vehicle. The suit man put me on the backseat beside him, while the black man climbed into the front seat and drove us from the area.

I didn't know where they would take me, why they hadn't simply released me, or why I didn't jump out of the hat when I had the chance.

The next thing I knew, I was lifted from the wet hat and wrapped in his expensive woolen cashmere suit jacket, which had remained partially dry. He carefully patted the soft fabric against my soppy fur, while he started to refer why cats in ancient Egypt were worshipped. How they saved the civilization from disease and death by catching rats and venomous scorpions and snakes.

There was something in his deep voice that instantly kept me calm. I watched him speak, while his friendly face and green eyes held a warm smile when he looked at me. Somehow, I knew I could trust him.

I still had no intention of fleeing when they parked the car after a short ride. He then carried me to a small flat which I found cozy and warm. Lots of pictures graced the shelves and walls and there was an impressive collection of old books and records. I had no idea humans lived like that.

The suit man placed me into an armchair, disappeared briefly into the bathroom, then came back with a large fluffy towel and carefully dried me some more. His touch was soft, reserved and unobtrusive. When he was done I felt comfortable enough to lick my coat clean with strokes of my tongue, smothering the fur on my front paws and on my belly.

In the meantime, the man went into another room and made funny noises while standing under running water. I didn't understand why he would get wet by choice all over again.

When he came back he had changed into different, casual style clothes.

"I think it's time to properly introduce myself," he said, trying to connect with me by talking.

"My name is Raymond Reddington and this is my home."

In that moment, the black man entered the room, carrying several heavy bags.

"Oh, and this is my friend, Dembe. He's purchased food for you."

Their hospitality kept improving. Dembe walked to the adjoining kitchen, opened a can and put the contents into a small bowl and presented it to me.

It was the finest gourmet cat food and it smelled delicious, but I didn't want to appear too eager, so I sniffed it first, then looked at them: "You've got to be kidding me."

Raymond just laughed at my expression, clearly reading me like an open book.

"You're going to love this, my dear," he said and sat down and poured himself a glass of some brown sharp smelling liquid. In time, I would learn he enjoyed plenty of it.

I wolfed down the entire bowl and Dembe generously gave me a refill. When I had enough I returned to the chair. Raymond had exchanged the wet towel with a soft blanket and I curled up, washed my fur once more, then purred in utter contentment.

I watched both men eat and drink, then relaxed in chairs. I sensed Raymond's scrutiny, he tilted his head every now and then, checking if I was alright.

Later that evening, discovering I had overcome the entire incident without damage, he opened a window so I could easily leave the room and exit the flat over the roof if I wanted to leave for good, as the park was nearby, but I decided to stay.

Obviously touched by my decision, he smiled at me. Then suddenly serious, he said: "By saving your life today, you saved mine, because otherwise the people I was supposed to meet in the park, would have shot me.

"You may stay as long as you wish. My home is your home."

I squeezed my eyes shut in understanding and purred a little louder just for him.

Feral cats are considered wild and unsuitable for adoption.

Well, I would prove otherwise. Tomorrow, I decided, I would allow him to pet me.

TBC