A/N: My cat was missing for almost a month, and today he walked in the door! Randomly! And much skinner than he was before, but the point is, my cat is back and so I am very happy. Thus, I had to write something about a cat, and dedicate it to my newly returned kitty, Jack. Who is now sitting on my lap demanding that I stop typing and go back to patting him :D

PS: I love everyone who reviewed. You dudes/dudettes rock!

Disclaimer: I suppose I sort of own the cat…nah, nobody owns cats. The imaginary cat merely allowed me to write of her movements.

Sean burst into Charles's study.

"Mom! Mom!" Charles tipped his head back and briefly wondered why everyone in the manor had decided that he was now their mother. It wasn't like he went around in an apron…

"Yes Sean?"

"Guess what we found outside! Guess!" Charles raised an eyebrow at the blonde. "Okay, so then just read my mind…anyway, can we keep it?" Charles focused on Sean's mind, sifting through to a few minutes past.

Sean and Alex, both crouched on the back stoop, staring at a mangy ball of fur.

Oh, dear. This might not go well. And it looked as though Alex had bolted off to tell Raven and Hank. Charles winced.

"Sean, we have our hands full as it is." Sean's eyes suddenly grew twice as big.

"But you have to at least come see it!" Charles sighed. Sean sounded like his heart would break if Charles didn't at least look at the animal. "Please?"

"Fine." Sean jumped and fist pumped. "I didn't say you could keep it!"

A few minutes later

The cat was small, scruffy, flea-instead, and hissing at anyone who came within two feet of it.

For reasons unfathomable to Charles, Raven and Sean and Alex were still trying to tempt it closer, by speaking in high pitched voices. Hank was hanging back looking vaguely nervous.

"So, this is the ah, kitty." Charles leaned over his wheelchair and frowned. The cat was crouched beneath one of the mutilated trash cans which had nothing to do with the fact that his and Erik's room was a few stories above this. "Hmm."

"It's so cute!" Raven burbled. Charles cocked his head.

Well, the cat did have big yellow eyes, and a nice tail. And rather fine whiskers, if dirty ones. There was, however, the small problem of the way it was spitting at anyone who came close to it.

"Come on, Mom!" Alex pleaded. "It's not like we don't have enough space."

"I'm inclined to say that this is a bad idea." Hank said slowly. "We have lots of sensitive equipment, and we don't need another source of destruction in the house."

"Hmm." Charles put a hand to his temples.

The same period of time, from an alternate point of view

Erik first heard the whispers of trouble when Raven rushed past the door to his study (Xavier manor had an excess of rooms with oak desks), banging on it as she passed and yelling "Sean and Alex found a pet, come see!"

He slowly closed the book he'd been reading. He always assumed trouble when Sean was mentioned and the moment Alex was added to the mix things tended to become…catastrophic. So it was with a sense of foreboding that he followed the sound of Raven's footsteps to the back porch.

"What in hell…" he muttered. Alex looked up, his expression one of trepidation. Sean grinned.

"Look, we found a cat! And Mom says we can keep it!" Erik was lost for words. The walking bundle of utility bills was glaring at them all from beneath a twisted trash can lid, yellow eyes glittering with malice.

"Charles." Oh, no. Charles was getting that look on his face. That "let's open a school for the poor mutants and make rainbows spontaneously explode over all the earth and find Raven a unicorn and buy Hank hair conditioner and the world will be groovy!" look.

This did not bode well.

"Well, she isn't a very large cat..." Sean and Alex high-fived each other. Raven smirked. Beast winced. "We can keep her."

"What? Charles!" Charles lowered his hand from his temple. The cat let out a loud meow and hopped into his lap, purring.

"She's been out on her own for her entire life, we can't leave her. In fact, I commend you kids for finding her. Alex, you go into the kitchen and find some fish for her, I'm sure there's a bit of salmon left over from last night." Alex hopped to his feet.

"I assume that you mean we're going to take it to an animal shelter in the morning?" Erik said.

"She doesn't have a home, and we have more than enough room for her." Charles scratched at the cat's ears. Erik glowered at the animal. He didn't want a cat. Why did they need a cat? It was hard enough to keep track of the kids!

"Hank, back me up." Erik ordered. But Hank was gazing at the cat's eyes, his face softening. "Hank!"

"Awww, she's really skinny." Hank stretched out a hand and began to pat the cat. It purred and arched. "And she isn't so bad tempered."

"I explained our intentions." Charles said, joining Hank in the stroking of the cat. She sounded like a car now. Erik wanted to face palm.

"You can communicate with cats now." This is ridiculous.

No, it's not. She's adorable. The mutants were all staring at him now. Raven from where she was crouched with Hank, cooing over the animal, Sean and Alex with their best puppy eyes, and Hank had gained a sudden (disturbing) resemblance to Bambi. They really want her, Erik.

The cat was staring at him too. The yellow eyes bored into his soul.

"Fine, as long as it doesn't get in my bed." Charles smiled slightly and stroked the cat's head. Sean and Alex exchanged smug looks. Erik felt like he'd somehow been beaten.

"She can sleep with one of the kids." Erik grunted. The cat was staring at him triumphantly.

Don't worry, I'll make it up to you later. Erik's mouth twitched up.

"I say it should be named snowflake."

"That doesn't even make sense Sean, she's a calico."

"No, she's a tabby!"

"Actually, tabby means they have stripes-"

"Oh, and I suppose that you know all about cats?"

"No but I know about appearances because I can change my shape, and if I turned my skin tabby it would not look like that!"

"It would not! That's not tabby, and besides you don't have fur!"

"Fine, I'll add fur!"

"You and Hank make such a well fitted couple."

"Shut up Alex!"

Erik turned to look at Charles. He was stroking the cat, apparently oblivious to the miniature war developing in the living room. I told you this was a bad idea.

Nonsense. Raven is exercising her abilities and finding them useful. That's progress, my love. Erik blushed. He really had to find some way to not feel that warm glowy feeling in his chest when Charles called him that. Well you are my love.

Likewise. Charles smiled at him. That cat meowed. Irritating animal.

She's annoyed that no one has guessed her name yet.

"Wait, you know the cat's name?" Every head whipped round to Charles. He raised his eyebrows and rubbed behind her ears.

"Of course."

"How?" Sean demanded.

"She told me." Erik fought the urge to hit something. Of course the cat knew what her name was already. Of course Charles was having mental conversations with a cat. Or perhaps Charles was screwing with them. It was often difficult to tell.

"So what's her name?"

"Sofia." How very anticlimactic. Charles paused. "Well, that's the closest translation I can get to without the use of titles, and we can hardly go about calling her 'the slayer of ten thousand mice and the bane of the rats, she whom the fleas fear.'"

Erik wasn't even going to touch that.

"Okay." Raven said. There were vague sounds of agreement, and peace settled once again in the living room. Sofia began to purr.

One of Erik's eyes cracked open. Something was very wrong. Which was odd, because normally sleeping in Charles's bed guaranteed a peaceful night. He began to examine the surroundings.

Warmth pressed up against his chest. That was Charles, whose upper body always managed to nuzzle into Erik's chest even if his lower was paralyzed. Softness just under his chin-Charles's hair. Whatever had woken him up hadn't disturbed his lover.

Sheets with a thread count somewhere around 1,000 brushing against his body. That had been odd the first few nights he slept in this bed, but he'd become accustomed.

No strange noises. Charles wasn't even talking his sleep.

He sniffed. That was odd. Was there another heat source above his head…

Fur brushed against his nose.

"Charles!" The telepath jerked and opened his eyes. Erik sat upright and lunged for the space just above his head. For a second his hands connected with fur. "Your cat is on my pillow!"

"Ah, is she?" Charles yawned. "Oh."

"Your cat is on my pillow. There is fur in my mouth!" Charles finally pushed himself onto his elbows and eyed the cat, who had barely moved. Her tail was still flicking around where Erik's nose was supposed to be.

"Do you want to switch sides?" But that would be complicated. That would involve Erik lifting Charles and getting his lower body into a suitable position, and no matter how often Charles lied through his teeth about how his injury felt, that was sure to be painful for him, plus it would end up with Erik's hands on Charles's ass and that would end up in more sex, which would be excellent if there wasn't a furry creature on the bed.

"No, I want the cat out of the room!" Charles sighed and reached out to pet the cat. "Stop petting it!"

"Petting her." Charles put a hand to his temples. Erik growled and rolled over, pulling blankets over his head. He wasn't emerging until one of their bloody adopted mutants had gotten that animal out.

Line break

The situation deteriorated even further the next day.

Erik walked into the kitchen, fully intending to make something nice and yummy for Charles because he felt bad about being grumpy. But the kitchen smelled…odd.

"What are you three doing?" Erik asked warily. Sean and Alex were both sitting cross-legged on either side of Charles's wheelchair. The cat was munching on something in front of them. She'd cleaned herself up quite a bit, enough to reveal that she was sleek and dark brown and had a little white tip on her tail.

"Feeding her." Alex replied. He didn't take his eyes off the beast. "Isn't she adorable when she eats?"

"No." Erik sniffed. "What in the world is that smell?"

"Just some, ah, food." Sean shifted nervously. "We brought it out when we didn't know what to feed her, because it smelled sort of like fish."

Erik sniffed again. He knew that smell.

"You're feeding the cat caviar?" Charles winced. Erik stared at him. "From these idiots I would expect it, but really Charles?"

"She really enjoys the taste, and none of particularly cares for it." Erik's mouth opened and closed. His kitchen was going to smell like caviar for the rest of the week. The cat was smirking at him and licking her chops.

"I'm going to go…do something not here." Erik fled, fighting the urge to storm back into the kitchen and kill the cat. It would probably traumatize Sean and Alex and piss off Charles beyond belief.

Don't worry, I'll have the boys clean it up when she's done. Erik ground his teeth. Eau de caviar lingered, regardless of cleaning products. They could bleach the room and the scent would still be there, just waiting to wriggle out and attack his nostrils. Meet me in the study later.

A few hours later, when Erik was happily yanking on Charles's hair and having his shirt stripped off, he didn't think it was so bad. So the cat ate some fish eggs. He was getting some truly spectacular study sex out of it.

Erik sneezed.

"Charles get your bloody cat out of this room!"

"Since when do you swear like a brit?"

A crawling sensation worked it's way up Erik's back. Something was watching him. He slowly turned around, prepped to hurl his pen into the heart of whoever dared intrude.

It was the cat. Staring at him. Erik shifted.

This was ridiculous. That animal was six times smaller than him. There was no reason to feel intimidated.

"What do you want?" And of course, now he was talking to the cat. She yawned. "How incredibly helpful that was. Why don't you bother Charles?"

Sofia yawned again and languidly hopped onto his desk. Erik crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair. He was actually busy, but observing the behavioral patterns of the cat was far more interesting.

She surveyed his papers. Erik had to stifle amusement-cats couldn't read, let alone read maps. With a sniff, the beast dismissed them as unimportant (or so her posture indicated).

"Hey!" Erik snapped. The cat, becoming suddenly boneless, had managed to splay her entire body over all the most essential bits of paper. Now she was the picture of absolute relaxation. He pushed at her. "Get your furry little backside off my things!"

One yellow flicked open, regarded him with disdain, and closed. Erik glared. There were metal candlesticks only a few feet away…

Erik, don't you dare. He scowled. Of course Charles would take the cat's side. She's a cat, that's what they do.

Lie on top of my work?

Oh, like you were actually working on that anyway. Erik eyed the cat. His instincts told him that if he tried to move her, bad things would happen. I'm sure you'd rather be playing chess?

The low, ominous, growling filled the kitchen. Alex fidgeted. Hank kept himself pressed against the counter. Sean and Raven were very firmly behind Charles's wheelchair. Erik rubbed his forehead.

"The thing has a mouse." He deadpanned.

"Yep." Sean confirmed.

"And it's alive."

"Uh huh." Alex nodded.

"And you are all standing here because?" No one answered.

"Well, she's growling." Hank said helpfully. Erik fought the urge to bend metal into sharp pointy things and drive them into the chests of all the surrounding mutants except Charles.

"You are mutants." Erik glared at them all. "Someone just take the stinking mouse from her!"

"But she's under the table." Raven mumbled. "Nobody can reach."

"I…you…morons…" Erik could find no articulate way to express his disbelief. "It's a ten pound"

"Twelve pound" Charles interjected.

"Twelve pound ball of fluff! You are some of the most impressive and capable people in the world, and you cannot even get that little brown scrap of fur from the jaws of a defenseless animal! Apply yourselves!"

"Well…" Alex shuffled his feet. "If I shoot anything at her, it'll demolish the kitchen and it might hurt them both…"

"And really, no matter what I look like, she's going to claw me." Raven said, in a tone that suggested this was rather obvious. "Plus Hank doesn't intimidate her at all, and she's faster than him, and screaming at a cat is obviously the stupidest thing to do ever, so Sean is useless."

Erik's mouth opened and closed. The cat growled.

"Charles." The professor shrugged.

"She simply refuses to give the poor animal up." Charles sighed. "When I suggested it, she made it clear that she would not be persuaded. Besides, I can hardly crawl under the table and take it from her."

Great. Now Erik felt guilty.

"You can control minds." Not guilty enough to overlook the obvious point that Charles was possibly the most powerful telepath ever and this thing's brain was the size of a walnut.

"Erik, that would be immoral." Charles sounded so earnest. And Erik wasn't sure whether to start laughing hysterically or storm away and go find the former brotherhood and reboot them with the purpose of killing all cats in the world.

"So I have to deal with the sadistic little" Erik, there are children present "animal." Erik gritted his teeth. The growling grew louder. "Fine."

Erik got down on his knees. The cat was backed into the corner, and shielded by multiple table legs. He grimly crawled closer, pushing chairs out of the way as he went.

The metal bender almost had Sofia in his grasp. Then she bolted. Erik swore and tried to move backward. Unfortunately, while a cat could dart through table legs and over chairs without missing a step, Erik was less capable.

Erik had spent years and years perfecting his espionage abilities, and here he was hitting his head on the underside of a table. In front of Charles.

Now it was personal.

Quick Erik, she's heading for the library! Charles's presence in his mind galvanized Erik to scramble to his feet and dash after the blur. A crowd of mutants pounded after him. With the exception of Charles, who was wheeling along behind, and absolutely not finding this entertaining.

Sofia darted around the doors to the library, and disappeared. By the time Erik had yanked open the door, murder on his mind because he would not be defeated by a cat, she was lost amidst the piles of books.

"Charles, where is she?" He asked darkly. Erik had assumed the pose of the hunter. Charles sighed.

"It's a lost cause, I'm afraid. She just crunched the mouse." Charles sounded genuinely mournful. Erik found it disturbing how much he now wanted to hug Charles-and kill that damn cat.

There were some aspects of living in the manor that Erik loved. There was the fact that he was living in what amounted to a castle. There was the fact that there was always food, albeit badly cooked. There was the fact that he had Charles.

But Charles, alas, came with some conditions. Most of them Erik could live with. Many he found endearing (see: tendency to tap fingers against wheelchair, ability to distract children, hilarious way of being so engrossed in a book he didn't notice Erik was in the room until Erik grabbed him and kissed him).

Then there were the less endearing tendencies. Like the "let's train despite it being pouring rain!" thing. And of course, while Erik didn't technically need to train, Charles couldn't go out into the rain because it was muddy and he was in a wheelchair, and someone had to supervise the kids.

Thus was Erik Lensherr standing in the rain, shivering, and glaring at Alex and Banshee. Of course these idiots had decided that it would be fun to "accidentally" kick mud at each other.

"Hey, hey, Dad!" Erik turned one evil eye on Sean. "There's mom!"

Erik turned to look up at the manor. Yes, there was Charles watching from the window. The light flickering in the background made Erik think Charles had gotten a fire going, and perhaps when he had gotten rid of this bunch of mentally challenged teenagers they could have fireside sex.

You look miserable. Erik sent Charles a small smile. You know, your smile is rather entrancing when there's rain dripping off you.

I'm cold.

I could think of a few ways to warm up.

"Sean, Alex!" Erik belted. "Hurry up with those laps!"

The two exchanged looks which suggested they knew far more than they were supposed to, and picked up the pace. Erik smirked and reveled in his ability to terrify the children. In mere minutes, Sean and Alex were scraping their shoes on the mat and opening the doors to the manor.

Erik, grab Sofia! He had been expecting something more along the lines of "Come to my enormous bearskin rug". Then the cat darted between his legs. She's going out into the rain!

"So?" Erik grumbled. He eyed the downpour. "It's not like the cat hasn't been out before."

It's pouring rain, and she'll be cold and uncomfortable! Can't you try to bring her back inside? Charles's voice was pleading. Erik could practically see his eyes going all big and blue and Charles preparing to wheel himself from the study and go out into the rain himself.

Fine. Erik stalked back outside, shooting the children a look of evil. It was their fault the goddamn cat lived in the mansion, and were they out looking for it? Of course not. The children were inside drying off and drinking cocoa and being warm.

The cat was nowhere to be found. It wasn't lurking around any of the doors, or trash cans, or conveniently placed eves. Erik tried to think of where he would go if he was a cat.

He'd be inside on Charles's lap. But that might have been only because he was cold and wet, and Charles had an exceedingly comfortable lap, and he found it a quite comfortable seat regardless of his species.

Erik, she's back! Charles's relieved message hit him when Erik was tramping across one of the courtyards checking under benches. He froze.

What?

She just came inside through a window, and the poor dear is just soaking wet. Erik stood still, feeling the water which had long since soaked into his coat trickle down his back. You can come back inside.

Erik grimly began the trek back to the front door. He had another thing to dislike about living in a mansion-getting to a door from a courtyard took about as long as it would to dry off.

Or longer, because it took him almost ten minutes of trooping around the exterior of the manor just to find a door. His search for the perfectly-capable-of-getting-back-on-her-own cat had led him far, it seemed.

"Ah, there you are Erik. What took you so long?" The cat was on Charles's lap. The cat was on Charles's lap, purring, wrapped in a fluffy towel, and dammit, that was Erik's place! Perhaps not with all the children clustered around cooing, but still!

"Erik, you may not kill Sofia." Charles said firmly. Alex prudently took several steps away. Erik stared at the cat, wondering whether if he perhaps bent the handles of Charles's wheelchair, he could strangle her. "Erik, if you try that, I will find a plastic wheelchair."

"No one sells wheelchairs made of plastic." Erik muttered. Charles raised an eyebrow, as if to point out that they lived in a castle, and the kind of money which Charles considered pocket change was enough to convince any number of engineers to happily do whatever Charles ordered.

"Fine." Erik growled. "I'm going to clean off."

"As you wish." By the time Erik got out of the shower, Charles had passed the cat off to Alex and was waiting by the bedside. Suddenly Erik was feeling much less disposed towards killing.

"Meow."

"I thought you said you locked the fucking door!"

"I did, and really Erik, your pillow must just be extremely comfortable. That wasn't an invitation to hit me with it!"

Erik Lensherr and Charles Xavier were well suited for many reasons. They both liked chess, and each other, and plotting, and old books. Both were super-duper powerful mutants. Neither got enough sleep. Though this was sometimes helpful-they were so used to insomnia, they could function at normal levels even if they'd spent the entire night having sex-but it made Erik worry.

He knew why he didn't get enough sleep. Erik had nightmares, though they came very infrequently now. He had a dark and dangerous past. And a cat who was determined to make his pillow into her personal bed.

Charles, on the other hand, didn't talk about the nightmares Erik knew the man had. Nor was he eager to share whatever pain his back was still causing him. It was frustrating, considering Charles knew everything about Erik.

Of course, Charles was worth these difficulties.

To name one example of why, Charles currently looked adorable. His head was cushioned on his arms, and his eyes were shut. Erik had to smile slightly at the look of peace on Charles's face. Usually, Charles looked worried while sleeping.

He locked eyes with Sofia. The cat was purring, filling the entire room with the humming sound. Her eyes were lidded, and she looked not at all bothered by Erik's gaze.

"And I suppose you did this." The purring increased. "That's absurd. You are a cat."

She blinked. Erik felt inconsequential.

"I am forced to admit that Charles doesn't get enough sleep, and each time you've been in my room, he was sleeping peacefully." Erik said slowly. The cat flicked her tail. "And now, he's napping over papers, which he never does."

This was opening a rather scary door.

"I'm not going to be able to get rid of you, am I?" Sofia managed to change her expression from barely interested to unbelievably smug.

A/N: Have you ever tried to get out of bed in the morning, and there was a cat in bed, so you ended up just going back to bed? Happens to me all the time with one of my cats (I have 5) and I have since concluded that cats have magical powers. And I created Sofia the cat out of all my cats combined, then named her after my best friend. Partially because I can't think of a female character from another fandom I like enough to reference. Partially because Sofuzzles is the best cutesy kitty cat name ever, and that's her nickname (sorta. At the namer's peril.)

Review?