It's been a few weeks since the whole pancake incident. The weather has gotten a lot colder, and I don't like it one bit. Even my extra fur coat doesn't help with the numbing chill that fills the outside air. Matthew's the only one that seems to be enjoying this at all. He walks around outside humming while he rakes up all the leaves that have fallen from the trees.

"It's going to snow soon," he says happily as he comes into the house. I sit watching him from a cushioned chair near the window.

"Great. Absolutely great." I can't even fake any enthusiasm in my voice.

"It's not that bad." He takes off his hat and gloves and stuff them into his coat pocket.

"Maybe for you."

Matthew places a gentle kiss on my forehead, which forces a small smile to my lips. I can't stay grouchy near him for long. "Oh, I forgot to tell you, but Alfred's coming over for a while."

"What? Why? For how long?"

"Just because. And no one knows," he tells me with a laugh. "He's my brother, but even I don't know what he's planning."

I rolled my eyes in agreement. Alfred was the one who got us together, but his methods were far from conventional. It's almost impossible to know what's going on in that airhead's mind. He can't even see his own brother half the time, and the other half he's too busy goofing around to know what's going on. Or at least that's how he makes it seem. Like I said, it's next to impossible to know what he's really thinking. I guess I shouldn't be so hard on the guy since he did do me a big favor this past summer.

"Okay, so when's he coming?" I ask.

"Today."

I'm not sure whether I should be upset or amused. Leave it to Alfred to show up without warning. "When today?"

"In a few hours." Matthew sits down in a plush chair next to the fireplace. A roaring fire keeps the living room warm and cozy, so I tend to spend a lot of time there. I quickly cross the room and sit on his lap. He embraces me with his arms. "I have to pick him up from the airport."

"Is Tony coming?" I question. The gray alien had been in Alfred's penthouse in New York when I had been there, but I hadn't seen much of him.

"No, I don't think so," he answers, although he frowns as if unsure.

There were plenty of other questions bouncing around my mind like a pinball machine, but I didn't feel like asking them. Matthew smelled so good that I was happy just snuggling up in his arms. His fingers strayed toward my hair, and he pressed a couple of locks to his lips.

"You smell wonderful," he whispers.

I laugh softly. "So do you."

He pressed his whole face into my hair and breathes deeply. "Mmm. Better than pancakes."

"Really?"

"Mmhmm."

I turn my head to face him. His lips land softly on mine, and their playful dance begins. My head spins around so fast that it was hard for me to keep my thoughts straight. Matthew holds me close as his tongue asks for permission to enter. I don't hesitate to let him in. We playfully wrestle until we break to gasp for air. He leans in and presses his lips against my temple. I press myself closer to him and sigh.

"I have to go," he murmurs against my forehead.

"He can get a cab," I argue.

"(Y/n), don't be silly."

"I'm being purrrfectly serious." I laugh at my own joke, and Matthew grins slightly too. For extra leverage, I let myself shrink into my cat form and bat my irresistible kitty eyes.

"I won't be long," he says as he stands with me in his arms. I probably could play rough and sink my needle sharp claws into his jacket and cause a big fuss, but instead I let him set me down on the chair with a huff. "Don't get into trouble."

"Me? Trouble?" I pretend to be hurt and dramatically lay a paw over my forehead.

"It's still weird to see you act like a human when you're a cat."

"I could start my own reality tv show. I'd call it 'Cat Girl', and all it would be is me doing weird things as a cat."

"Do I get to be in your show?"

I give my tail a thoughtful flick. "Maybe…if you're good."

He smiles softly and gives me a quick scratch behind the ear. "Do you want to come with me? I'm sure Alfred will be happy to see you."

"Sitting in a freezing cold car while waiting for the engine to warm up, or stay curled up on this chair next to a warm fire…hmmm. What a tough choice."

"Okay, okay. I'm leaving now," he says with a laugh. He quickly stuffs his hat back on his head before heading for the door. I wave a paw goodbye, and then the door clicks shut. "Well, it's just me, myself, and I."

I hop down from the chair and pad over to the fireplace. A braided rug sits within its warm glow, and I stretch out comfortably on it. He's only been gone for like thirty seconds, but I miss Matthew already. Blast this cold weather. By chance, I let my gaze wander toward the window and nearly jump out of my fur. Bits of white swirl down from the sky and stick to the windowpane. I scramble to my feet and climb up on the windowsill.

"No, no, no, no, no," I hiss when I see what's outside. A thin layer of snow had already started to cover everything outside in horrible, wet cold. "Nononononono."

I lightly drop to the floor and begin pacing. It's not like I had ever seen snow before, but I really didn't like the stuff. Somehow it hadn't occurred to me that it might actually snow up here. Gosh, I'm an idiot. It's Canada. Of course it snows here. And lots of it too. I try to get my breathing under control and flatten the fur on the back of my neck, but I'm too worked up over the stupid snow to calm down. Too many cold winter nights sleeping under park benches have given me an extreme dislike of the stuff. I never dream of a white Christmas, and Frosty can go jump in a volcano for all I care. I really don't like snow.

My pace eventually slows enough for me to attempt clearing my head. Snow's really not that bad if I'm not in it. I can feel my heart settling down at the thought. All I have to do is stay inside and I'll be perfectly fine. There's a warm fire right here, and not a single reason for me to go outside. I curl up into a tight ball on the rug and think only about breathing and the warm glow on my back. There's nothing to worry about if I stay right here. It's so relaxing that I don't even realize that I fell asleep until the cuckoo clock starts chirping away.

That thing drives me nuts because I really want to get that silly bird that keeps popping out of there, but Matthew gets nervous when I even look at the clock. He said it was a gift from a friend who made it himself and doesn't want me to break it. Without really thinking, I count how many times that bird chirps as the clock chimes. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Six? That means Matthew left almost two hours ago. It doesn't take someone two hours to pick someone up from the airport, or at least I don't think it does.

I can feel my tail starting to bristle already. No, I should stay calm. There's really nothing that could have gone wrong. Alfred probably told him the wrong time or something. That sounds like an Alfred thing to do. I reason with myself as my feet move automatically toward the window. I'm not sure why I'm going there, but I'm afraid of what I'll find. My heart stops once I see what's outside.

The whole world is one big sheet of white. It kind of reminds me of what my arms look like when I don't get a lot of sun, and a scratchy, strangled laugh gets caught in my throat. How is it possible for this much snow to have fallen in just two hours? My mind quickly races through every possible scenario that's causing Matthew's tardiness. None of them are good. Maybe he slid on some ice and hit his head on the ground, or his car slid on ice and he's stuck in a ditch somewhere. Maybe the accident caused him to have amnesia and wander around completely lost. Maybe he suddenly developed a second personality that's like the complete opposite of him and is terrorizing some people somewhere with a hockey stick!

"Crap, crap, crap!" I pound on my head with my furry paws. "Think! What do I do?"

I try shifting back into my human form, but that idea doesn't go far. Apparently, I'm too worked up to be able to transform. Perfect. That leaves me with only one option that I'm not thrilled about in any way, shape, or form. I have to go outside. No one else knows that he's out there, so it's up to me to rescue him. I look toward the little swinging door Matthew had installed on the bottom of the front door for me, and I would frown if cats had that ability. I would've freaking called the police if cats had that ability. But we don't.

"Dang it, Matthew. You have to live in Canada of all places." I shoot through the pet door before I have a chance to change my mind while mumbling something about the Bahamas. There's no going back now.