2.

"I'll teach you how to hunt!" Spencer said, which was all well and good but, as it turned out, Spencer wasn't actually very good at hunting. Not the actual take-down part anyway—he was fine at finding stuff to eat, just not actually… eating it. Finally, he admitted, "Well, I usually do this with the others. I flush it out and they, ah, kill it." He looked so woeful about this that she blinked at him a few times, slowly, so that he knew she was okay with it.

"I'm not very good at hunting either," she admitted. "You're lucky to have a colony to help. Ia—I mean, my human, he, ah, she never helped me out…"

"Oh, I didn't always have a colony," he told her. They were walking through the field behind the park Spencer lived in, grass rearing about their head. It was Very Outside, Emily thought. Dusty and grassy and the kind of place you might be able to get away with having dirty ears. Unnerved by that thought—she couldn't possibly go home when she was done Being Naughty if she had dirty ears—she stopped and washed. "I was alone for a while, after I lost Maeve. I don't remember much about it, just that I was hungry a lot. I'm not hungry now. Oh, hello."

Emily paused her bath. There was a couple of lady cats, some with kittens in tow, lounging on a rock above their heads.

"Hi, Spencer," some of them tittered. Some fluffed up dangerously at the sight of a tom near their brood. The kittens, however, all mewled happily and surged forward in a gaggle of multi-coloured paws and tails to crowd around Spencer and demand stories! Emily sniffed. An astonishing amount of the younger crowd smelled of Spencer. For his first year—she assumed, because he was barely her age and still as skinny as a spit—he'd sired an impressive amount of young.

Young who seemed to like him.

What an Interesting Cat, Emily thought.

"Who is this!?" the kittens were demanding, all their stubby tails turning to face Emily until she was surrounded by a sea of tiny pink noses. "Who are you!"

"Her name is Emily!" The new voice was Nora, bouncing up all paws and whiskers and dirty fur. The other mama cats gave the filthy newcomer a look and meowed their own, cleaner, offspring back. "It's on her collar. We read it, didn't we, Daddy?"

"We did," Spencer reassured her.

"You need to wash," Emily scolded Nora, not liking seeing such a dirty little snippet of a thing. Spencer might get away with not washing, but only because he was a tom. Ladies must wash. Emily swished her tail, for good measure. "You'll never have a lovely tail like this if you don't wash," she added.

Nora blinked, peering back at her tail and almost falling over. "I don't know how to wash," she said sadly. "Mama never taught me and then she went away."

"Oh," said Emily. Where on earth would her mama go? Outside, she was feeling, was a bit more Danger than she'd expected.

Spencer said nothing.

The other cats had moved away, leaving them alone in the afternoon sun. Emily wanted a nap. And some food. And to be Naughty, but she was beginning to think that maybe Outside had Responsibilities… and maybe this was one of them. "Come here," she said firmly, and caught Nora with one of her black paws. "I'll teach you. You must start—but only when it's safe—with the belly. The belly is Most Important."

Spencer purred happily.

Evening brought with it fireflies. They chased them and ate them and Emily was a little unhappy that she was still hungry after but suspected that might just be because Inside was easier than Outside, and she did thrive on a challenge. But then came the yowl.

It was a girly, teasing yowl, and Spencer turned right around and trotted off without a word. "Hey!" she shouted after him. "Don't you dare leave me here!" But he was gone.

"Daddy has a lady," Nora said wisely, chewing on a walking stick bug. "I think that was Lila yowling. He'll be back."

Emily felt annoyed. What did that cat have that she didn't? She was the prettiest and the Most Naughty and the blackest as well! She bet that other cat had… had… dirty ears. Hmph, she thought, and stuck her nose in the air as far as it would go and strode away. See how he liked it! She'd… she'd go Home! To Ian, who didn't go off after yowling hussies, and who thought she was lovely! Bah!

"Grumpy cat," said a deep voice, and she froze because that voice was right behind her and above her head and being snuck up on meant either Running Real Fast or Staying Very Still and she wasn't sure enough of her paws to know which was the best right now. "Where's your bite gone, cat?"

She turned. She refused to be eaten without watching it happen. Hotch stood behind her, his paws shockingly silent for such a thumping great thing and his eyes a deep woeful brown. She swallowed. "You can't eat me," she warned him. "I'm far too much cat for you. I'll… I'll fight you all the way down and chew my way out from your guts, you watch."

Hotch blinked. "Wow," he said mildly, his expression unchanging. "Well then. I certainly wouldn't want to mess with… that. Where's your mate?"

"He's not my mate," Emily sniffed. "He's off with a lady. I'm going Home."

The dog cocked its head to the side. Nora reappeared, having vanished with a puff of panic and a small mewl when the dog had startled them. Nervously, she sniffed at the paws that were almost as big as she was. "Hmm," said the dog. "You don't fit in here."

Outrageous! Emily fit in wherever she damn well pleased! She spat, just to show him that she did belong.

"I am a Dog with a Job," Hotch said solemnly. "My Job is to Guard. I Guard everything here… and that includes cats. But you don't belong here. Do I Guard you?"

"I don't need to be guarded," Emily told him. "I guard myself, with my Claws and my Cleverness. Like all cats do."

"Hmm," said Hotch again. "Perhaps. Let me know if you do belong here. I should like to know if I need to Guard you too. Regulations demand it, you understand. You, what are you doing?" He was talking to Nora, who was attacking his tail. "I don't know what to do with kittens."

"Teach them to wash," Emily advised wisely.

"Oh." He looked at her again. "Very well then. I shall do that, sometime." And he padded away, only pausing to whuf hot air all over Nora, who giggled.

"I like him," she declared. "Oh, hi Daddy!"

Spencer was back and looking smug, wet all over and with a big scratch on his little nose. "I lost," he said cheerfully, still looking proud. "And I fell into a pool and Morgan smacked me. Look!" He crinkled his nose. "A real battle-scar!"

"You were nicer without it," Emily snapped. She didn't think she liked the Outside anymore. Real cats didn't really fight. Not like that. Morgan was supposed to be family. And she was hungry. And it was cold. And would he leave again if another cat yelled for some? "I'm going Home."

And just like that, Spencer deflated. "Oh," he said. His whiskers drooped. "Oh…"

She did feel a bit bad. And it was late. And, as they were standing there, she heard the bowls being filled with kibble.

What was one more night?

"Tomorrow," she added, and he nodded.

"I'll walk you there," he said softly. "It's dangerous to be alone."

He would know, she supposed. He was a real Outside cat, and she was… well, really only Naughty on the Inside.