"No," Caitlin said.
"What?"
"I said no, I'm not a veterinarian!"
"I'm not saying you have to examine her, jeez!" Cisco snuggled the mangy cat against his chest like a baby. "Just look at her. Isn't she cute?"
Caitlin glared at the ragged, evil-eyed specimen of felinity in her best friend's arms. It was scrawny, snaggle-toothed, and the color of a rotten orange. She couldn't tell how much of that was dirt and how much highly unfortunate coloration.
"No," she said flatly.
It glared back and let out a little hiss. Cisco scritched its head. "Don't worry about her," he cooed. "She's harmless."
"You don't know that."
"I was talking to the cat," he sniffed.
"Why do you have the cat in the first place?"
"She was wandering around outside, all on her own. In the cold, and the rain, and - "
"It's been in the eighties and sunny for a week. You've been feeding it, haven't you?"
" … maybe?"
"Cisco! Next you'll be naming it."
"Oh! Already did. Buttercup."
She scowled. "Is that Buttercup from The Princess Bride or Buttercup from The Hunger Games?"
"You know what, mock if you must, but that cat was a freaking survivor, okay." He scritched the cat's head again. "Look, Caitlin - "
"It's a stray," she said. "You need to set it down, shoo it outside, and call Animal Control."
"Animal Control? You know what they'll do to her?"
"Take it to the shelter where it can be examined, cleaned up, fed, and adopted."
He cupped his hands over the cat's ears, as if protecting it from what he said next, in an appalled whisper. "Or she'll be put on kitty death row!"
Looking at the cat, Caitlin had to admit that the latter was probably the more likely scenario. Nobody would want this cat if there was literally any other choice.
"Also, point of order, she's not a stray, she's feral. She's got a collar but no tags, and she's been declawed."
"Stray, feral, I don't care. It doesn't belong here."
He snorted. "Really? Because we don't have a history of taking in every stray we find at all."
"If you don't want her to go in the shelter, then just let her go. She's be fine outside. She's done okay so far."
"Whoa, whoa. Did you miss where I said she's been declawed? I can't do that to her. Somebody already dumped her once, I'm not going to be the second one."
She opened her mouth.
"My building doesn't allow pets," he said.
"Like you couldn't get around that."
"I'm already on thin ice with management over all my improvements to the appliances." He gave a little snort at their incredible ungratefulness. "C'mon, she'll love it here. She'll catch all our mice."
"We don't have mice." Her eyes widened. "We'd better not have mice!"
"We won't when she's done!"
Caitlin felt herself losing the argument. Cisco sensed it too. He cuddled the cat up to his cheek. Caitlin cringed, picturing fleas making the jump from cat to man with merry abandon.
"C'mon," he cooed, apparently untroubled by any such fears. "Look. Look at that face. How can you say no to that little face?"
Caitlin narrowed her eyes. The cat sneered back.
Then she looked at Cisco's bright, hopeful eyes, the way he cradled the cat in his arms. The way the cat hadn't once bitten or swiped at him.
He'd had a cat as a kid, another rescue. He'd cried for weeks when it died, just after his twelfth birthday. As far as she knew, he'd never had any kind of pet since.
Apparently that had now changed.
She let out a long, low, hopeless groan.
Cisco grinned widely. "Thank you," he said.
"Keep it out of my lab," she said. "I don't want cat DNA contaminating all my samples."
"I'll give you a spray bottle," he called over his shoulder, heading toward the kitchen.
Iris passed him in the hall and came into the cortex, where Caitlin was doing a search on her tablet. "You actually agreed?"
"He wore me down," Caitlin said grumpily.
"Couldn't say no to that face?"
"What, the cat? I could totally have said no." She tossed a glare over her shoulder in the direction Cisco had gone. "It was him."
"Yeah, that was the face I meant," Iris laughed.
Caitlin rolled her eyes. "At least it's declawed."
"Really? She was?" Iris sounded horrified.
Caitlin frowned at her. "Is it really so bad to declaw a cat? It stops things from being destroyed at least."
"It's like getting all your fingertips amputated. Plus, it's half her defense system. If she was on her own outside, it's a miracle she survived this long. All she can do is bite and hiss now."
"Oh," Caitlin said softly. She considered what the cat would have had to deal with, trying to survive, especially after being abandoned and discarded. "Well. I guess I don't blame her for her bad mood, then." She checked the screen, then dialed the number.
"Central City Animal Hospital," said the other end.
"Hi, do you take walk-ins? No, nothing wrong that I know of, just a rescue cat that we want checked over and any problems addressed. Uh-huh." She shot another look over her shoulder, toward the kitchens, where she could faintly hear Cisco's voice cooing to Buttercup. "Yes. As soon as possible."
FINIS
