Curiosity killed the cat

Summary: Or at least Bill wishes it would sometimes…

Disclaimer: Not mine. Well, the cat is, but everything else belongs to FOX.

Rating: K

A/N: Bill/Karen one shot. Not a food story, but set in the same universe as my other one-shots and Pepper makes a reappearance, infact he has a starring role (hence the title). Fluffy humour. Thanks for reading!

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"You want me to what?" Bill stared at his wife, a look of undisguised horror on his distinguished face.

"I want you to take the cat to the vet so he can get his claws cut," Karen repeated patiently as she set down her coffee cup on the kitchen counter after breakfast one morning. "Appointments at eleven-thirty. The veterinarian is expecting you."

"But—but---"

"Bill, come on," Karen laughed a little at her husband's evidently pale face, "this whole I-hate-the-cat-because-he's-trying-to-kill-me thing is getting a little old. Pepper is harmless. More to the point he's old and slow. I've seen you take on terrorists; I think you can handle a little kitty."

"Little kitty my ass! He must weigh fifty pounds!"

Bill shot a malevolent look over to the corner of the kitchen where the obese ginger tom cat was curled up contentedly in his wicker basket, apparently oblivious to the discussion going on around him. Bill swallowed as Pepper suddenly looked up, directly at him, green eyes glinting maliciously and yawned, incisors sharp, his whiskers bristling.

"Karen… he's looking at me again." Bill inched behind his wife slightly, as if she would protect him from his legendary feline foe.

Karen turned around in amusement; Pepper had lain back down and was seemingly dozing. "Bill! He's fast asleep. Don't be silly."

"But—but—he looked right at me as if he knew what we were talking about," Bill protested gloomily, "in future I think we need to spell words out in front of him, such as the V.E.T, because I'm going to look like the bad guy!"

"I have to work," Karen explained patiently, "Tom Lennox and I are meeting up to discuss some new security measures to be put in place at Wayne Palmer's weekend home, but I should be back early enough to start on dinner. Any requests?"

"Something with alcohol," Bill near enough whined, "because I'm going to need something to take the pain away once that fleabag starts mauling me."

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"Here kitty, kitty, kitty…" Bill said coaxingly twenty minutes after Karen had left, as he knelt down on the cold kitchen tiles, cat carrier in hand, dangling temptingly in front of Pepper's basket. He'd fully suited up for the occasion, wearing a baseball helmet with a face shield and some old hockey gloves. For a moment he'd even considered wearing one of his old Kevlar vests that he had stashed up in the attic, but considered that to be going slightly too far. Like Karen said, Pepper was old, presumably stupid- he'd never be able to deduce which of Bill's body parts were the least protected, right?

Wrong.

The second Bill got within a metre of Pepper's basket, he pounced. He landed right on Bill's stomach, claws bracing. For a moggy so fat, he was certainly graceful.

"Aaaargh!" Bill was uncomfortably aware his voice was several octaves higher than usual, but he was more aware of the claws embedded like daggers in his rib cage as he stumbled backwards.

Pepper yowled triumphantly.

"Damn cat!" Bill yelled, unsuccessfully trying to fight him off.

Pepper swiped his paw towards Bill's (thankfully protected) face and Bill shuddered, eyeballing the cat from the safety of the face shield. "I. hate. you," he told Pepper grimly, "you know it's going to come down to the choice of you or me, right? And I'm going to win this round. You're outta here, buddy!"

Pepper hissed, his claws sinking even further into Bill's skin as Bill finally managed to sit up, kitty carrier dangling limply in hand. He saw his chance and with one gloved hand, grabbed Pepper by the scruff of the neck and tried to shove him inside. Rather ungainly, Pepper went limp, and to Bill's chagrin, he couldn't get him in there at all.

"Damnit!" Bill puffed, "move you stupid cat! Bend your legs!"

To no avail. Bill eventually gave up, and with a triumphant little purr as he released him, Pepper bounded back over to his basket and sank inside.

Bill's face flashed in unbidden fury. "That's it!" he told the cat, who glared at him evilly. "I didn't want to do this, but you've made me sink down to your level!"

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"Bauer."

"Jack, its Bill."

"Bill! Hey! How's it going?" Jack responded, pleased to hear from his former boss. "How's DC?"

"DC's great," Bill replied as he rubbed his swollen ribs and eyed the scratches on his arms in despair- wondering how Pepper had mauled through fabric so effectively, "um, Jack... this may seem a bit of a stupid question, especially given the distance, but I was wondering if you had any experience with animals?"

"Animals?" Jack queried, sounding bemused; "what kind of animals? Like cougars or something?"

"In a manner of speaking," Bill took another peep through the kitchen door then quickly reared away as Pepper arched his back and hissed plaintively at him from the centre of the floor. Bill kicked the door shut with his foot and staggered back into the hall, clutching the phone and breathing hard.

"Spell it out Bill," Jack said, puzzled.

"Karen has a cat and it's ruining my life," Bill said through clenched teeth. "I'm trying to get it in its basket to take it to the V.E.T and it's clawed me, even through my protective garments."

"Protective garments?" to Bill's annoyance, Jack burst out laughing.

"It's not funny," Bill hissed, sounding rather like Pepper. "He's a damn nightmare. You have no idea. He shreds the newspapers, he steals my chair…"

Jack was laughing too hard to respond. For a second it sounded like he had a hold of himself, but it was only for him to call out to whoever else was presumably near him and Bill could hear the familiar noises of the CTU bullpen; "hey guys… anyone have any idea how to subdue an angry cat? Bill's on the phone and he's going through a rather traumatic time…"

"A cougar?" that sounded like Mike Doyle.

"A domestic house cat," Jack responded. There was the sound of collective laughter in the background and Bill felt the colour rise in his cheeks and was glad he wasn't on a videophone.

"Jack, I swear to god you have no idea what this thing does to me! He's---"

"Bill its Nadia," the voice was assuring; "how are you doing?"

"Nadia," Bill said thankfully, "can you help me?"

She sounded amused, "my mom had a cat that was pretty aggressive and she used to try and lure it with treats whenever she had to take it to the vet. Is um, Karen's cat fond of kitty kibbles?"

"It eats everything in the damn house," Bill responded, "I think it's immune to treats, but it's worth a shot."

"Ok—" Nadia broke off at the sound of muffled voices in the background, "no Morris I will not suggest that Bill tazers it! Honestly…"

Bill smiled at the thought of a zapped, unconscious Pepper, "both excellent suggestions Nadia. Thank you. I'll speak to you again soon." He hung up and pondered his next move, but before he could do anything, he went to layer up his chest. He wouldn't make that mistake twice.

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"Bill?" Karen gaped at her husband three hours later as she dropped her briefcase on the living room floor in shock, "what on earth happened?"

Bill was rocking back and forth on the sofa, gibbering like a wreck. His hair was mussed, he was wearing a Kevlar vest and his arms were covered in scratches. His shirt was also ripped and there were kitty kibbles scattered all over the floor. "P…pepper.." he managed to get out; "w…we had a little altercation."

Karen's eyes widened. "You mean to say my cat did this to you?" she gasped.

Bill nodded and didn't cease in his rocking.

"Oh honey," Karen wrapped her arms around him soothingly. "I'm so sorry I didn't believe you, I just never thought it possible for a cat to have a vendetta against you."

"He hates me!" Bill near enough shrieked, "I even called Jack to see if he knew any ways to get him into the kitty carrier and people at CTU laughed at me! They laughed at me, Bill Buchanan!"

"You called Jack Bauer?" Karen asked him slowly, "in Los Angeles, for help with Pepper?"

"I was desperate!" Bill protested.

"I can see that," Karen replied, "honey, did he get anywhere near the vet's at all, today?"

Bill shook his head miserably and looked up at his wife with watery eyes, "I tried Karen, believe me I tried," he said sombrely, his voice woeful.

"Oh honey, it's alright," she said soothingly, "I never should have left you alone with him. I should have believed you, I'm so sorry…"

Bill's eyes were full of sadness, "he's not a bad cat, really," he ventured, still trembling, "I think he's just… misunderstood."

Karen's eyes were full of awe and trust; "you're such a wonderful husband, Bill," she told him as she kissed his cheek, "still trying to be nice to the cat after what he's put you through."

"He's your cat," Bill pointed out, trying to still his shaking hands, "I know how much he means to you."

"But you mean more," Karen responded, pulling him off the sofa, "come on. I'm going to rectify this."

"Karen, no!" he looked traumatised, "I can't go in there!"

"Two minutes," Karen promised him, "I'm going to give that cat a piece of my mind."

Bill's knees were shaking as he followed her into the kitchen. Pepper lifted his head and eyeballed him suspiciously, before mewling at Karen affectionately.

"Bad kitty!" Karen scolded, pointing at Pepper; "bad, bad kitty!"

Pepper's green eyes widened at her tone and he cowered a little in his basket, stopping mewling. He purred imploringly instead, almost as if he sensed he was in trouble and Bill clutched Karen's arm.

"He's making the devil eyes again," he whispered in a fearful voice, "he's like something out of a Stephen King film."

"No, don't look at me like that," Karen said fiercely as she regarded her pet, "no more treats for you, or getting to sleep in the kitchen where you can get at Bill. Nuh-uh! No more! You're going to stay in the rec-room until you think about what you did."

Like he understood, Pepper's eyes widened even further.

"And I'm putting you on a diet," Karen finished, folding her arms and tapping her foot, "Bill's right, you're far too spoiled for your own good."

Pepper's eyes darted to Bill, who was cowering behind his wife, but it was only Pepper who noticed the smug little glint in his eyes and he hissed in feline protestation.

"Stop hissing at him," Karen scolded, picking him up, "Bill's been good to you, Pepper. I don't understand why you have to be so mean to him all the time."

Pepper scrabbled at Karen's shoulders, trying to escape, as she carried him out of the kitchen, still scolding him, as a self-satisfied expression crossed Bill's lips and he stopped shaking immediately.

"Score one to me," he thought with a pleased smile, sauntering to the fridge and helping himself to a beer which he held up to himself in a silent congratulatory toast, "and payback's a bitch."

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A/N: Before anyone feels sorry for the cat, just be aware that he's had it coming for a long time now.