"Daddy! Daddy!" A dark-haired little boy made a beeline for the door of his daycare the moment he saw his father enter. The little boy who, along with his wholly uncooperative black hair. had also inherited his dark eyes, cocky spirit, and love of beautiful cars, especially Mustangs, from his father.
"Hey Buddy, where you good for your teachers today?" Matt picked up his six year-old son, and swung him off the ground and into the air, sitting the little boy on his hip.
"Yes, Daddy. We got to do finger painting today in art!" Brandon went to Kindergarten for the first half of the day, and got off the bus at the daycare he'd been going to since he was four months old.
"Really, what did you draw?" He asked as he gathered the boy's lunch box, and tiny backpack.
"You, and me, and Mommy of course!"
"Hey Matt, he was very good as always, working that charm on us all." Alicia, one of the teachers at the daycare, greeted him, and ruffled Brandon, always unruly hair.
"Where's Mommy?" Brandon's dimples came from the woman in question, as well as a habit of biting his lower lip, and intelligence beyond his age.
"Yeah, did Emily get stuck at work?" Alicia looked around, wondering where she was. Matt and Emily were one of the only couples that came together to get their child, and they were also two of the more pleasant parents to deal with.
"Yeah," he answered the teacher first, before turning back to Brandon, "Mommy is talking to the bad guys tonight." Emily had gotten call in two hours ago, and was still negotiating.
The little boy was deep in thought for a minute, looking older than he was, before he spoke fearfully, "are they gonna hurt her?"
Alicia looked alarmed, while Matt just sighed, and set his son back on the ground, squatting to his level. "Brandon, we talked about this, who do Mommy and Daddy have to protect them when they talk to the bad guys?"
"Uncle Frank and Uncle Duff," he recited, though he didn't seem to believe it.
Two months ago a negotiator from their office had been killed when the HT he was talking to, faked giving up for a chance to shoot him. Matt and Emily had brought Brandon in for a visit the next day, not having heard that news yet. Much to their dismay, the little boy sensed that the adults around him were all upset about something, and had weaseled the truth out of an HRT agent. The kid was already a better negotiator than some of Emily's students. But, ever since he'd been fearful for his parents, never having imaged before that the bad guys could actually win.
"That's right. Nobody is going to hurt Mommy, okay?" Matt had repeated the same words over a dozen times by now, and so had Emily.
He nodded, and threw his arms around Matt's neck in a hug.
"He's still worried?" All the teachers were familiar with the couple's rather unique job, having met Lia, Cheryl, Duff and Frank when the two were occupied with HT's, field assignments, or whatever else, and couldn't pick up Brandon.
"He asks that whenever one of us is negotiating now, but at least now he seems to accept that Frank and Duff are our barrier from the HTs."
"The boy does love his uncles," she said with a smile.
"That's because they spoil him, and are practically walking GI Joes." Matt rolled his eyes.
She laughed, "Bye Brandon, we'll see you tomorrow."
"Bye Miss Alicia!" He yelled gleefully, as Matt scooped him up again, and headed out to the car.
Brandon spoke animatedly for ten minutes, before popping the really big question on his mind. "Jenny just got a puppy, Daddy. He's fuzzy and yellow, she showed us a picture today for show and tell."
"Did she? What's his name?"
"Petie…Daddy, can we get a puppy?" There it was the question Matt had been dreading since the stick turned blue.
"I don't think so Brandon."
"Oh, but Daddy, I really want a puppy, and everybody else has a puppy!" He whined painfully.
"Now, I'm sure not everyone else has a puppy." Matt promised his son, shaking his head in exasperation.
"Please, please Daddy! Please! Please!" The little boy begged agonizingly from his seat.
"No Brandon, we can't get a puppy." He had to be firm on this. Emily had told him that it would be his job to deny his child a dog, mocking his mindfulness.
"Why not? Mommy likes puppies."
"What makes you think that Mommy likes puppies?" Matt was flabbergasted as to where his child could have gotten the idea.
"She likes Blake," he insisted, referring to Cheryl's black Scottie, which she'd adopted a year ago, when her boyfriend decided to relocate, and didn't want to bring the little fuzz ball. She would never admit it, but she loved that dog, and was convinced she got the better of the pair.
"Everybody likes, Blake, but that doesn't mean we should get one." He was moderately comfortable around Blake, but only because he got tired of watching Emily and Cheryl nearly piss themselves laughing when he looked at the tiny dog with terror.
"Oh, but please Daddy!" He began to pout.
"How about we go for some ice cream?" Matt tried to bribe the child away from the idea of a dog.
"I don't want ice cream, I want a puppy. I'm going to ask Santa for a puppy the next time he comes." He held a look of defiant stubbornness, a trait he'd acquired from both parents.
Oh god, Matt thought, don't do that, Emily might actually want to get him one. Matt sought for a solution desperately, one finally striking his mind after a few moments.
"How about a kitten?" He offer the lesser of two evils.
"Really, I can get a kitty?" The boy's eyes widened in wonderment.
"Yeah, we'll talk to Mommy, and see if we can find you a kitten." There he could delay while he tried to find a better solution.
Brandon seemed to consider this for a moment, chocking his head to the side. "Mmm, okay, but I still want to ask Santa for a puppy."
"If we get a kitten, you can't have a puppy."
"But, what if Mommy doesn't like kitties? Santa can still bring me a puppy then."
"I promise, you'll get a kitty." Matt's voice held the distinct tone of pleading.
"Can we get the kitty today?" Brandon asked, his eyes lighting up hopefully.
"Today?" Matt nearly swerved off the road.
"Yeah, if we're getting a kitty, can't we get it today? Then I won't have to write Santa a letter."
Matt suddenly got the distinct feeling his little boy knew exactly what he was doing. "Okay, but then no asking Santa for a puppy, deal?"
"Deal!" He quickly agreed, huge grin on his face. Matt had been duped by a six year-old.
Sure enough, twenty minutes later, Matt was pulling into the third animal shelter he'd called, wondering how he'd gotten talked into getting a cat. He grabbed Brandon's hand as they entered the shop, and the little boy immediately dislodged his hands from his father's, and tore off through the cages. He past right by the dogs, paying them little attention, before arriving at the cats.
"Hi," Matt greeted the girl at the counter. "Can we just browse?"
"Yep, just call me when you've picked one."
"Thanks." He ran to catch up with his son, convinced now that the boy had never wanted a dog, but had in fact, known exactly how to get his daddy to let him have a cat.
"I like this one Daddy! This one!" He pointed excitedly, jumping up and down, toward a cage just above his head.
Inside the cage rested a tiny black kitten, with a deep cinnamon color blended in. Her nose was black, her ears looked way too big for her head, and her wide eyes were a bright yellowish green, with a mostly cinnamon area surrounding one. And when she turned, Matt could see that the tip of her tail was also cinnamon colored, and her fur was slightly longer than the typical short-haired cat.
"Okay, Miss? We'd like that one."
"Number 34? She's just over eight weeks old, and has had her first round of shots. You'll need to get her a distemper booster in a three or four weeks, and spayed when she's about six months old. Otherwise, she's yours to take with our thanks." She leaned down to Brandon, "Have you picked a name yet?"
He put a finger to his mouth shyly, and shook his head. She smiled at him and reached into the cage, pulling out the kitten, and sticking her in a temporary cardboard carrying case. Matt thanked her as they walked out, dropping a small adoption fee, before buckling Brandon in the back, and the case with the cat beside him. Then he pulled out his phone for one short phone call.
"Mathers."
"Hey, Lia, how's the negotiation coming?"
"Not so great, the guy doesn't seem to want to budge, and Emily's throwing everything she has at him."
"Okay, well when it's over, can you tell her to call me before she comes home?"
"Oh god Matt, what did you do?" Lia sounded worried and amused at the same time.
"Uh, nothing, nothing, just make sure she calls me, before she comes home?"
"Sure thing, Matt." He could almost see her shaking her head as they hung up.
Emily yawned and stretched as she walked into the CNU, hoping to gather her things and get out the door quickly. At nearly three in the morning, she was beyond exhausted, and craving to see her husband and son. Reaching her desk, she jammed a few more folders into her laptop bag, pulled a few out, and tried straightened her desk a bit, before throwing the strap over her shoulder, and turning to walk out.
"Hey Emily!" Lia called, trying to catch her before she left.
"Hey Lia, what's up?" She asked tiredly. Though, the analyst looked pretty beat to, stuck in front of her computer during the duration of the negotiation.
"Matt called earlier."
Emily was suddenly much more awake, alarm giving a jolt. "What's wrong? Is Brandon okay?"
"He's fine sweetie. Matt just wants you to call before you go home," Lia assured her.
"Oh god, what did he do?" Emily looked both pained and amused at the thought.
"I asked him that, he said nothing. Good luck though." Lia smiled, remembering the last two times Matt made such a request Brandon had finger painted the walls, and he and Matt together turned the kitchen into a disaster area with their attempt at cooking.
"Yeah, I bet I'll need it," she just shook her head, and waved at Lia as she left the office for the night. She loved the two men in her life more than anything, but leaving them alone together was usually not a good idea.
Emily yawned so deeply as she thrust her key into the knob of their apartment door that she had to take a minute to collect herself. It was now a quarter after three in the morning, and she was about to fall over dead, she was so tired. She pushed open the door, and was amused to see Matt passed out on the couch. She walked in looking around, waiting for whatever disaster he and Brandon had created to appear. There was none, until she got closer to Matt, then she noticed something odd.
Not quite believing her eyes, Emily squinted to try and see better. Sure enough, there was a tiny, furry head sticking out from inside the collar of Matt's shirt. He had two of the buttons open, and kitten's head was resting over the third, passed out and peaceful as could be. Emily didn't quite know what to think, but the girly part of her wanted to squeal. Instead she pulled out her phone, charged up the camera, and snapped a picture of the pair. Lia would definitely squeal when she saw that, and Cheryl might too. Emily stood admiring the cute scene for a few moments longer, before going to check on her son.
Brandon was as dead to the world as his father and new pet, his stuffed elephant under one arm, and the other arm resting by his head. He was wearing his car pajamas, his favorite ones, because the little sports car riding around all over them reminded him of the Mustangs he and his daddy loved so much. Emily stole in quietly, and placed a kiss on the little boy's forehead, stroking his messy black hair. He stirred, moving ever so slightly, before settling back to sleep. Emily hurried back out, closing his door just enough so that they could still hear him if he called.
Back in the living room, she was debating what to do with the other two sleepers. She thought about letting him sleep there, cuddled with the mysterious kitten, but decided she wanted her bedmate with her, and it would be better for his back to sleep in a bed. She leaned close to him, pressing a kiss to his lips, and feeling his body respond before his mind was even consciously aware of what was going on. His eyes fluttered open, smiling at once at the sight of her. He pulled her back for a deep kiss, one that his mind and body could both fully enjoy.
"Who's your friend?" Emily asked, pointing out the kitten, after they broken the second kiss.
"I think Brandon settled on Cleo." He said, with a sheepish, half grin.
"Oh, and how is it that Cleo came to join our family?" She tried to pretend to be made, but that kitten tucked in his shirt was just too damn cute.
"Brandon asked for a dog."
"And how is it that we got a cat?" That didn't clear up anything for her.
"That child is already a pro at manipulation and negotiation. He played me."
Emily couldn't help, but laugh, "our six year-old played you?"
"Yes, he knew I wouldn't let him get a dog, so he got me to offer him a cat instead."
"And you just went and got it today?"
"I told you he played me like a fiddle." Truth be told, Matt was kind of proud of how smart his son already was.
"I guess so…" Emily took a good look at the kitten for the first time. "She's cute."
"Brandon picked her." He stroked the cat's head, and it almost looked as if Cleo was smiling in her sleep.
"And it looks like she picked you." She grinned.
"Well, I think Brandon's hyperactive child behavior scared her a bit. She crawled in there around seven, and doesn't seem to have any plans of leaving." Even when he went to tuck Brandon in, the kitten stayed in her safe little spot, and Matt didn't have the heart to remove her.
"I'm surprised she hasn't fallen out."
Matt shrugged, and then looked surprised for a moment, "wasn't Lia supposed to tell you to call home first?"
"She did, but it was ten to three when I left, and I figured at least I could enjoy the quiet drive home, before I found out about whatever mess I assumed you and Brandon made. The cat actually came as a nice surprise," she confessed, both surprised that she was already so amicable to the idea of having a cat.
"Glad your not mad at me," Matt agreed, relieved that he didn't have to explain further how easily it really was to get played by their son.
"There's one thing though? She pees, poops, or throws up anywhere, but the litter box you better have remembered to get, and you get to clean it up." No way was she coming home to clean up feline excrement.
"I did remember to get a litter box, thanks. And all the cats at that adoption center are familiar with the pee in the box concept, they live in little cages, remember?"
"Glad to hear it." She yawned.
"But, you do like her?" Matt asked, hopefully.
"With that face? Who could say no?" She yawned again, "I don't know about you and the furball, but I'm exhausted."
"I'm all for bed. Hey, how did the negotiation go?" He asked, holding up a hand for her to help him off the couch.
"Long, very long. But, we talked him down, he's in a cell now, thank god. We all wanted to shoot him by the end." She answered, as she pulled him up, the two talking as they walked down the short hall to the bedroom, the kitten still tucked in Matt's shirt.
"Sounds like a fun one." He told her, yawning as she walked off to the bathroom.
Matt finally pulled the sleeping kitten out of his shirt, and set her on the bed. She rolled over, yawning and struggling to open her eyes, and then sat and looked up at him, with her big green eyes.
"What?" He asked as he unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, and threw it into the laundry basket, followed by his pants, and socks.
"Already talking to the cat, Matt?" Emily asked with a smirk, as she walked back into the bedroom.
"Well look, she's looking at me." He pointed to the kitten, sitting looking at up the pair sleepily.
"She thinks she's sleeping in our bed." Emily pointed out.
"I already have the female of my choice in my bed." Matt told her, with a cocky grin.
"Hear that Cleo? Come here." Emily picked up the kitten, and stroked her fur, before resting her on the carpeted floor.
Matt shut off they light as the couple climbed into bed, spooning tightly against each other, as they had been doing for over eight years. Matt laid his arm around Emily's waist, pulling her even closer, and she wrapped her arm around his. Their eyes were just beginning to droop closed, when the tiniest meow brought them back fully open. Emily leaned over the bed to looking for the kitten. She had her paws resting loosely on the side of the bed, and was standing on her hind legs, staring up at her with the most pathetic expression.
"Okay, okay," Emily mumbled, lifting the kitten up and placing her one the bed. "Just remember how this sleeping arrangement works," she warned the cat, curling back against her husband, who was laughing behind her.
Cleo seemed perfectly happy where she was, and turning in a few circles, she finally settled down in a little nook, created by Emily's curved body, leaning against the negotiator's stomach. As the couple drifted asleep, they could hear the faintest sounds of the little creature's purring.
So incredibly sachrine, but after my last few stories, I need something completely fluffy to take off the edge, and this one's been floating around in my head for a few weeks. Thanks for reading and, who ever does, thank you for reviewing.