i.
The first time he meets her, it's a Monday and it's raining.
Days at the practice are never ideal when it's raining. Something about the weather always riles up the animals, some sort of sense or psychology Lucas should probably remember from veterinary school. Lucas always ends up with more defensive scratches on his arms on the days when it rains.
So that Monday morning in April, acting on the lessons of rainy Mondays past, he can only assume it's going to be a rough day at the office.
For his prudence, he proves himself mostly right. Halfway through the afternoon he's got three hairline nicks on his upper arms from his morning patients, and a particularly nasty swipe from his regular St. Bernard, Cookie, might be drastic enough to warrant a light scar when all is said and done.
Zay apologizes profusely for the scratch, but Lucas assures him it's not a big deal. He's had worse, and he certainly can't blame Cookie – she's a big lady, and naturally her claws are going to do a little more damage than the smaller mammals he attends to every day.
Still, it doesn't make it sting any less. He's finishing up disinfecting the minor combat wound as Sarah pokes her head into the back room to give him an update. She stops with her mouth half-open when she sees the bandage he's slapping over it.
"Yikes. What happened to you?"
"Babineaux's dog was a little restless this morning. Fair on her part, considering the shots she was due for."
"Well," Sarah says with a smirk, leaning against the doorframe. "Guess that's the way the Cookie crumbles."
Lucas rolls his eyes. "As good as that is, one more crack like that and I'm firing you."
"Smackle would never let you. Someone has to keep things real around here. She appreciates my unbridled, brutal honesty."
"You know, honesty doesn't have to be brutal."
Sarah's turn to roll her eyes. "Your four o'clock is here."
"I'll be out in just a second."
Lucas rolls down his sleeve back over his arm and grabs his files off the counter, sorting through them until he finds his next patient. It's a blank slate, indicating he's in for a new patient with no sort of preparation to aid him in the endeavor.
First impressions are always the worst. They always have been, despite how many people tell him he's being silly for stressing. Smackle rails on him any time he brings it up, lamenting the fact that he's so charming and well-mannered it doesn't even matter what he says or does. People are going to keep coming back for more, so he can keep his pretty little mouth shut.
In her defense, she's statistically not incorrect. He maintains more consistent patients than anyone else at the practice, so maybe he shouldn't complain.
He makes his through the examination room to the door out to the lobby, poking his head out and glancing down at the file in his hand.
He double takes when he reads the name listed in the paperwork. He's not sure he's reading it right. Normally, calling in patients by their name rather than their owner is one of the more enjoyable parts of the job. But now he's not so sure.
He clears his throat, aiming to come off confident. "Uh, Purple Cat?"
"Oh, that's us," someone chirps, leaping up from the bench at the end of the room.
The woman that approaches him has one of the brightest, easiest smiles he thinks he's ever seen. There's something about her that's so captivating and uplifting, it feels as though he could put her outside in the rain and she could make the sun shine with her bubbly demeanor.
Or maybe she is the sun, and the reason it's pouring down rain outside is because she's stuck in here on a Monday afternoon.
He's so distracted by her that he forgets for a moment what she's even doing there. He doesn't notice the cat carrier she's lugging in her arms until she's standing in front of him, still offering that smile and raising her eyebrows uncertainly.
"Do we just stand here, or?"
"Oh, no," he says, but it comes out more like a cough. He remembers Smackle's disdain at his nerves and attempts to reinstall his usual confidence, returning her beam and leading her back into the examination room. "Right this way. You can place the carrier on the countertop there."
She does as she's told, gently resting the carrier on the table in the center of the room. Back in his usual territory, he gains a little more control over his bearings. This is his turf – he knows what he's doing. Just another patient.
"So," he says authoritatively, flipping through the papers she filled out before lifting his eyes to glance at her. "New patient?"
She nods. "I used to go to this practice closer to downtown, because a family friend owned it. I mean, don't get me wrong, Rachel was the best with animals. Not like her practice wasn't good or anything like that. But when I got my new job, I didn't know where I was going to be, and my roommate – she's an artist – her job took her further upstate so that's where we ended up. And it just seemed like a pain to go such a long distance when I'm sure there are just as suitable vets around here, you know?"
He's not sure if he should jump in and respond, or if she's going to keep zooming off on another tangent. It's an impressive talent for rambling she's got on display, but if he's being honest with himself he doesn't mind it so much. In fact, considering how disinterested and quiet a lot of his customers are, it makes for a refreshing change of pace.
"Well, we're happy you're here with us today," he says genially. The smile returns to her face and she tilts her head, as if the statement genuinely touched her in some way he doesn't understand. "Miss…"
"Matthews," she fills in, holding out her hand. "Riley Matthews."
He accepts the handshake. "And your friend…"
"Purple Cat," she says, filling in the blank with absolutely no hesitancy.
"Purple Cat." He nods an agreement. "Well, shall we–?"
Riley moves forward at the same time as him, eager to help in whatever way she can. Both of them touch the carrier cage lock at the same time, Lucas pulling his hand away first on instinct. As popular as Smackle thinks he is, he's not one to make a habit of unintentionally touching the owners of his patients, particularly ones he's just met.
Especially pretty ones who have him flustered enough already.
Riley thinks nothing of it, continuing to undo the latch and pull back the carrier door. She leans forward on her elbows, cocking her head at her fuzzy companion. "Come on, Purr. Show Dr. Friar what you're working with."
Lucas isn't sure what is going to emerge from within that lavender-colored carrier. He's not sure he wants to know. Sure, online photos of little animals dyed all sorts of different colors are cute in theory (that Pikachu kitten is a whole other level), but in practice it reeks of animal rights violations. He's not sure he can handle seeing a bright purple cat in person. He's not sure he can harbor such necessary judgment against Riley considering how darn adorable she is if that turns out to be the case.
His worries are assuaged seconds later, when a perfectly healthy and perfectly normal Birman emerges shyly from the cage. She glances hesitantly at both of them, Riley giving her an encouraging nod before she strides towards the center of the table.
"There you go!" Riley says proudly, reaching forward to scratch the cat behind the ears. "Look at you go."
Purple Cat meows pleasantly, nudging her head against Riley's hand. Obviously, not a victim of animal abuse in any way, shape, or form.
"Well, she's not purple," Lucas says dumbly, mentally kicking himself the instant the words leave his mouth.
"No, she's not," Riley agrees with a laugh, hearty and full of amusement. "I get what you mean. People hear the name, they tend to get a little… well, there are expectations."
"No kidding."
"Guess I set her up for a lifetime of disappointment," she sighs, rubbing under Purple Cat's chin. "Sorry, sweetie."
Lucas decides that's as good a time as any to start with the actual appointment, taking over for Riley and petting the cat. He subtly checks for any odd bumps or lumps along her abdomen, grateful that despite her timidity Purple Cat seems incredibly tame. He may get out of this one without a scratch.
"So, first appointment, regular check-up, correct?" Lucas gently checks her teeth, although she's evidently not thrilled about it as she tries to wriggle out of his hands. "Nothing out of the ordinary you want me to pay extra special attention to?"
It takes Riley a moment to respond, so much so that he lifts his eyes to check that she's still present. She's gazing at him, obviously lost in thought, but the shock of locking eyes with him brings her back down to Earth.
"Yes," she says, clearing her throat. For some reason, she seems a bit embarrassed. "Yep, just a normal check-up."
"Okay." He reaches behind him to grab the otoscope, smirking at her in an effort to diffuse the sudden tension in the room. "So, you going to tell me the story of why your non-violet cat is named accordingly?"
It works like a charm. Riley relaxes, smile back on her face as she twirls a piece of hair around her fingers.
"Eh, that's a second appointment kind of deal." Her smile brightens, eyes twinkling with a challenge. "Impress me with your veterinary abilities, and then we'll see."
ii.
The next time he sees her, it's a Tuesday and it's sooner than expected.
Purple Cat passed her annual exam with flying colors (pun not intended), and unless a serious emergency arose Lucas didn't expect to see the well-groomed Birman or her cute owner for another six months. Although it's disappointing for his own selfish reasons, mostly he's relieved she seems to take her pet care so seriously. There's no trait Lucas finds more attractive than a dedication to taking care of others – especially those you elect to take into your charge by choice, like the small house pets who are not equipped to take care of themselves – so it's a little easier to harbor a secret, unprofessional crush knowing Riley values the life and well-being of her oddly named feline.
Distance helps to stem such an infatuation before it really starts as well, so it's a big surprise when Riley is back in their waiting room only a couple weeks later.
"Riley?" He frowns lightly out of confusion when he steps out of the exam room to run some files back to the front desk. Sarah takes them, watching between the two of them curiously. With Sarah, curiosity is never a good thing. "What are you doing here?"
Her eyes light up the moment she sees him. She jumps to her feet, almost stumbling over Purple Cat's carrier. "Oh, well, Purple Cat started showing some weird symptoms."
"Purple Cat?" Sarah says pointedly, less skilled at hiding her judgment than anyone else in the office.
"And I figured better safe than sorry. So I made another appointment." Her delivery is off somehow, as if she doesn't quite believe what she's saying herself. "I hope that's okay."
"I mean, it's not up to me," Lucas says blankly, trying to catch up with the situation. There are so many aspects of this scenario he's not prepared for, like the fact that she looks even cuter than the last time he saw her, and he was in such a rush this morning he forgot to comb his hair, and the button down he's wearing underneath his coat is one of his oldest and so worn with wear that the pleasant cerulean it used to be is now a faded, jaded blue-grey at best.
"I explained to her that you were on break and were booked until next week, but here she is." Sarah says pointedly, obviously hoping for drama. "So I passed her off to Smackle instead."
He doesn't know what it is, but something about the situation makes him throw convention out the window. Maybe it's because Smackle is so much tougher than he is, and although he doesn't know her all that well he gets the feeling that Riley is the kind of patient who deals better with a softer approach. Maybe it's because his shirt is so pathetically drab and she decided to show up out of the blue and his veterinary prowess is the only thing he feels like can salvage his pride.
Or maybe, it's just because she is so darn cute. Unprofessional, perhaps, but who is he to say no to the sun?
"Squeeze her in now, just cut the break in half," Lucas directs, nodding to Riley and heading towards the examination room with his name on the door.
Sarah shakes her head, stunned. "Seriously?"
"Seriously," he repeats, allowing Riley to slip past him. He and his sassy assistant have a tacit exchange with increasingly disdainful facial expressions until Lucas gives up and shuts her out, closing the door behind him.
Riley offers him a nervous smile, the carrier already on the table. "Hi."
"Hi."
"I hope I'm not causing too much trouble," she murmurs as he makes his way around the room the other side of the examination table. "I wouldn't want that."
"No, it's fine. Sarah's just work adverse, and anything that requires her to put more effort in than usual is an automatic no from her."
Riley giggles, reaffirming his belief that he's made the right decision. Well, that and the fact that something could be wrong with Purple Cat and he's only doing his duty as a sworn protector of the common house pet. That's the most important part, of course.
"So, what's up with Purr?"
"Oh. Well," Riley starts, hesitating as she glances away from him down to the lavender carrier. "She um, started… sneezing."
Lucas blinks. "Sneezing?"
"Yes. Lots of it. And of course it could just be allergies, or whatever. But then I was thinking, what if it's something more serious? What if she has feline pneumonia? What if she has a little feline tumor somewhere in her nasal passage and one day she's going to sneeze one last time and that's going to be it? I couldn't live with that."
Lucas's eyes are wide as she rambles on, escalating her speed and volume of delivery the more she riles herself up.
"So I decided it was smarter to bring her in for another check. You know, for the sake of her well-being and all."
Although her theatrics are quite convincing, Lucas doesn't buy that Purple Cat is having any sneezing issues. She hasn't even huffed since they entered the room, and Riley's story is just a bit too rehearsed to feel genuine. As far as he can tell, nothing is wrong with Purple Cat at all.
Yet, she's here, back in front of him again. And he isn't going to complain about that.
"I'll take a look," he assures her. "Just let me grab her file. You can go ahead and take her out."
Riley nods, following instructions as Lucas disappears through the other door to the back.
He passes by the scales and veterinary equipment to the file cabinet. Smackle is already there, seated at the computer and entering new patient data into the online system.
She doesn't even glance up at him. "So, Color Wheel is back, huh?"
"Her name is Riley," he says flatly, rolling his eyes. He opens his drawer and picks through the files. "And yes. So what?"
"Well, she was supposed to be my two-fifteen. But Sarah told me you picked her up. Over your break."
Lucas shrugs, not validating her statement with a response. Her tone is a little too tickled to be conversational.
"I don't see what's worth commenting on about that. She's my client, I should take her concerns. Purple Cat and I have a deep connection."
"Oh, silly me." Smackle glances at him over her shoulder, a smirk ghosting over her features. "You should ask her out."
"What?" Lucas waves her off. "No!"
"She literally made up an ailment for her cat to have just so she could come in and see you again. She's not being subtle, and neither should you."
"She's my patient. It's unprofessional."
"Her feline is your patient. She, on the other hand, is fair game. And the only reason you're passing up this opportunity is because you're a yellow belly and overthink everything and are terrified of putting yourself out there."
Lucas doesn't even know where to begin with that statement. Regardless of how much of it is true. "Yellow belly?"
"Word of the day calendar." Smackle gets to her feet, swiping a file from the desk and pushing him aside to open her own drawer. "Means coward."
"I know what it means. And I am not. I'm not afraid of anything."
"Prove it." She files her things away and closes her drawer, raising her eyebrows at him.
He likes Smackle, and he's grateful they're business partners, but there are a few things he greatly resents about her. One of which being the way she can stand a whole foot shorter than him and still exude enough blind confidence to feel as though she's towering over him.
"You don't ask her out, I will." She heads back towards her examination room. "She's quite attractive."
"You're engaged, future Mrs. Farkle Minkus."
"You could be, too," she retorts effortlessly, stopping at her door. She leans her head back, humming thoughtfully. "Color Wheel and Yellow Belly. Sounds like a match made in heaven."
He makes a face at her as she goes, returning to the file drawer and finding "Purple Cat" in the middle. It suddenly feels heavy in his hands, like some kind of reminder of everything he could have if he put himself the slightest bit out there.
But at the end of the day, it's just a patient file. He and Riley, they're just friends. Barely that. Acquaintances at best.
There's a reason the sun is millions of lightyears away. Because if you're not careful, if you get too close or expose yourself too much, you're inevitably going to get burned.
iii.
Riley comes by the next Wednesday, only this time she's not alone.
Lucas is surprised to find another new patient file on his side of the back room desk that morning, and even more surprised to see his favorite – or least favorite, depending on how he looks at it – owner seated in the waiting room that afternoon. She's talking animatedly with a petite blonde when he pokes his head out of the exam room, glancing down at the file.
"Ginger?"
Riley leaps up the moment the word leaves his lips, excitedly dragging her friend over to meet him. The blonde looks less than enthused, although he surmises from her jagged, short hair and critical expression that she's likely perpetually that way.
"Riley," he says with an exhale, offering a smile and clasping the file between his hands. "Have to say, it's nice to see you without Purple Cat's life hanging in the balance."
She laughs, her friend raising her eyebrows at the two of them. "You're so right. But no, I'm just here with my friend. This is Maya."
He focuses his attention solely on the sharp blue eyes, holding out his hand. "You must be the artist roommate."
"And you're the veterinarian she won't shut up about, yeah," she says, only cracking a smile when Riley visibly cringes beside her. Taking enjoyment out of the slight embarrassment of her friend, she relaxes somewhat. "So, I'm expecting to be impressed. Vet away."
Maya marches into the examination room without waiting for an invitation, carrying a small, white carrier in her arms. It looks too small to be carrying a cat, but Lucas doesn't have long to think on it when Riley is still standing there in the waiting room looking at him.
"It's immediate ownership only, typically," he explains.
Riley's face falls slightly, and once again he finds himself throwing convention out the window. If he's not careful, he's pretty sure this pretty brunette is going to ruin his life.
"But I guess I can make an exception."
She immediately brightens, wordlessly stepping around him and into the room after her friend. Sarah raises her eyebrows at him from the desk, shaking her head and mouthing at him.
Tease.
He once again shuts her out.
"Riley is as good as family," Maya says sharply as she joins her by her side. As if Lucas needs a valid excuse to have let her in and he wasn't going to do it anyway because he's a terrible, unprofessional vet with no morals. "So she goes wherever I go."
"Noted." Lucas lifts the patient file and skims it, trying to get a sense of what he's preparing himself for. "So, annual check-up? Looks like it's been a while since you've had one."
"That's exactly why I brought her," Riley says in exasperation. "She's always saying that Ginger isn't a normal pet, so he doesn't need to go to the vet like other normal pets."
Lucas isn't sure he wants to know what Maya qualifies as normal. The small carrier at the end of the table suddenly feels more dangerous than before.
"I stand by my words."
"Well, let's get him out here and decide for ourselves, shall we?" Lucas nods to Maya to open the cage, not particularly interested in handling the mystery pet until he's seen it for himself.
She leans forward, huffing as she undoes the latch. "She made such a big stink about it, you have no idea. You should be flattered, she was going on and on about what a great veterinarian you are. Best god damn one in Brooklyn, or something."
"Wow, thanks."
Riley beams.
"Yeah, yeah, but that doesn't explain why she felt the need to come along." Maya steps back from the cage, pulling the door open. "She took the day off at the library just to come along as if Ginger's getting life-changing news."
Lucas raises his eyebrows curiously. "You work at the library?"
"Wednesdays and Fridays," Riley admits, wringing her fingers together. She seems shier than usual, as if the presence of her fiery friend alone pushes her deeper into her shell. "Part-time."
He starts to ask her what her full-time job is, but is distracted by the long, twitchy creature slipping out of the carrier on the table in front of him.
His jaw drops open slightly. "Is that a ferret?"
"Jury's out. We still think it might be a rat."
"Ginger, baby!" Maya says affectionately, crossing her arms proudly. "There he is. Strutting his stuff."
Not his usual patient, that's for sure. But Maya's evidently fond of him, and if he's a pet to her then Lucas figures it's his responsibility to give the critter the best care he can. It's his sworn duty, after all.
That, and the expectantly fond gaze Riley is giving him is a strong motivator to do his absolute best. Despite how harsh a critic her artistic roommate may or may not be.
iv.
It's the first Thursday in May when Riley shows up again, and this time she's not on the schedule.
Lucas hears her first, her usual cheerful voice frantic from the octave it's pitched at. He can't make out what she's saying but he would recognize her anywhere, and he's out in the waiting room in seconds.
"Hey, hey, what's going on?"
Riley whips around from the front desk, face flushed and tears brimming in her eyes. She's cradling a towel in her arms, and it takes him a few seconds to realize that Purple Cat is bundled up within the fabric. Even Sarah, always the sarcastic one, has concern written all over her.
Something is obviously very wrong.
"Lucas!" Riley exhales, rushing towards him. He doesn't even have a second to register the fact that she called him by his actual name before she's launching into a breathless explanation.
"I thought she was in my room. I thought she was there so I thought, well, I can leave this open for five seconds while I grab the rest of the groceries. I left the door open for five seconds and she runs out and by the time I catch up to her, she's on the stoop. And I'm trying to stop her, but she's a cat so it's not as though she's going to respond to her name. She's not a dog. And she traipses out into the street and this biker comes down the bike lane and–!"
She's totally out of breath, a couple of tears spilling over her cheeks. He wants to comfort her, but he has no idea what the appropriate way to go about that would be and besides, Purple Cat requires his immediate attention. Above all else, the feline is his patient, and he takes his promise to provide her care as seriously as her owner does. Even if a couple of innocent mistakes were made along the way.
"Riley, it's okay." He reaches out and gently touches her shoulders. Purple Cat warbles in pain between them. "Riley, look at me."
She does, lifting her gaze to meet his. He exudes as much calm confidence as he can, squeezing her shoulders. "She is going to be okay. I will take care of it. Breathe."
Riley nods, relenting and allowing Lucas to scoop up Purple Cat from her arms. He gives her one more reassuring nod before he disappears into the examination room and straight to the back, determined to keep his promise to both of them.
It's a couple of hours before he emerges again, stepping out into the waiting room and scanning for Riley. As he approaches she lifts her head, wiping her tear-stained cheeks and attempting to regain her composure.
But considering he's not carrying Purple Cat in his arms, her mind immediately jumps to the worst conclusion. She bubbles up with tears again, shaking her head wordlessly.
"Hey, Riley, hey," he says urgently, speeding up as she bursts into tears. He drops down onto the bench next to her. "You don't have to cry. It's okay. She's fine."
Her crying halts, shock taking over her features. "She's okay? She's fine?"
"Purple Cat is fine," he assures her, offering her a soft smile. Riley exhales a fraught laugh, hiding her head in her hands. "The biker got her tail, so that's going to take some time to heal. But we were able to locate all the injuries and none of them are life-threatening."
Riley absorbs the good news, still trying to regulate her breathing. Lucas ventures a bit of unprofessionalism and pats her shoulder, rubbing her back soothingly.
"All she's going to need is a couple of check-ins and some very good, very attentive home care." She locks eyes with him, hanging on his every word. "Which, as we know, you're very good at."
"Am I?" She huffs, rubbing her face. "I'm the one who let her get out and get herself into trouble."
"People make mistakes, it happens. No one is perfect. Believe me, I've tried." She laughs lightly, wiping her eyes again and sighing. "But yes, take it from your feline medical professional. You're an excellent cat owner. Purple Cat is lucky she has an owner like you."
Riley examines him for a long moment before breaking all his conventions for him, leaning into him and wrapping him in an embrace. Lucas is completely unsure what to do, but it isn't long before he gives in and hugs her back. Not that he was putting up much of a fight.
He glances over her shoulder and finds Sarah looking at them, her typical smirk back on her face. Only this time, it's not as mean-spirited. Smackle is standing with her, both of them watching with a strange mixture of endearment and disdain.
In unison, they mouth another phrase at him.
Ask. Her. Out.
v.
It's a Friday when he takes their advice, only this time he goes to her.
Lucas can't remember the last time he stepped into a library willingly, if the long hours he spent wanting to die in the university libraries are any indication. If he's being honest, he can't remember the last time he read for fun. But suddenly standing amongst the stacks with the entire world of literature in front of him, he feels like maybe he should.
Regardless, he's not there for the books. Not this time.
He finds her behind the desk, helping a little girl check out some comically large picture books. It's evident the interaction is natural for her, at least as easy as it is for him to soothe a house pet before he gives them a shot. Then, maybe the two aren't so familiar.
Either way, he decides her actual career must have something to do with kids. Whatever she does when she's not here on Wednesdays and Fridays or staking out the lobby of his practice. He also decides it's the first thing he's going to ask her, if the question of today pans out positively.
She nods as the parent thanks her and leads the child out of the building with a stack of books. He feels odd as he approaches the check-out desk considering there are no items in his hands, but this whole entire thing has been odd since the moment a feline named Purple Cat showed up in his patient roster.
Not to mention, he's never much minded odd.
"Excuse me, Ms. Matthews?" He waits until she looks up from the computer to lock eyes with him, surprise coloring her features. It's more than a little entertaining – maybe that's the real reason she kept showing up without warning. Just to get that expression out of him. "Hi."
She blinks, a smile ghosting over her lips. "Hi."
"It's been a while since I've been in one of these," he admits sheepishly, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Got any recommendations?"
"Well, I don't even know where to begin. There's so much to choose from."
"Just my dilemma. That's why I figured you'd be the person to ask."
Riley blushes, clasping her hands together. She clears her throat, standing up straighter and putting on quite the authoritative tone. "Well, sir, it helps to know what you might be interested before I offer any specific suggestions."
"It's funny you should say that," he says, hoping he's coming off cool and not as flustered as he feels whenever she's around. The way he's felt since she appeared in his life with a perfectly healthy Birman and a penchant for rambling. "Because I was just thinking getting to know each other might be kind of nice."
The look on her face is one he's seen before, a vague memory from the first time they met. The same way she looked at him when he was working with Purple Cat, only a little more obviously fond this time around.
"Considering the amount of times I've bothered you about the well-being of Purr, I guess we should, yeah."
"That sounds enthusiastic," he teases, and both of them share a laugh. It's loud enough that Riley's coworker shushes them from the book stacks.
Flushed with embarrassment from being berated in her own workplace for a rule she very well knows but with the twinkle of laughter still in her eyes, Lucas thinks she's just about the most adorable person he's ever seen. The sun, shining it's absolute brightest.
Lucas decides he's ready to burn alive.
"You can finally tell me all about how Purple Cat got her name." He raises an eyebrow, putting himself out there with the deep sense that this time it will be worth it. "You know, with a little more enthusiasm."
Riley nods, tilting her head at him with a warm smile on her face.
"I would like to. Very much."
