Hey guy! Finally exam time's over - you can expect update regularly now. YAY! At least that's what I hope ;)

DISCLAIMAER: I do not own GRIMM!

Puss in Boots

Hard to explain

The sun's already risen when I wake up the next morning. For a moment I don't know where I am. Only when I find Roddy's arm still wrapped tightly around my waist, I remember. School, Roddy, the car, Roddy, Roddy and me doing… well, you know what, the rave, and again Roddy and me doing the same as before. What a great night!

I sigh and snuggle back against Roddy's chest. Everything's so nice and cozy, until… my gaze falls onto the alarm clock on the bedside table. Oh shit! I almost fall out of bed with shock. Hell, I should be in math right now! "Roddy!" I whisper, "Roddy, I need to go" No answer. Well, unless you count indistinct grumbling. I ease his arm off my waist and plant a kiss on his nose. It twitches and for a moment I think I see whiskers. Oh, rat boy

I park the car at exactly the same spot where I found it. Best trick for "borrowing" cars. If the owner reports it stolen, the police will find it in his usual parking spot… and you never get charged. Yep, that's how it's done. I even let the key in the car… Just making it authentic.

I turn to leave, but freeze on the spot. Oh oh, Not good. The police are there. How the heck did they find out about that car so fast? I just don't get it. Anyway, I'd rather get outta here. Now.

When I want to leave the parking lot, I hear someone call out to me, "Miss! Excuse me, Miss" Oh crap. What's it this time? What ticked them off? I turn around, putting on a fake smile. The guy talking to me is a huge black man. A cop. For a moment my claws shoot out. But I control myself.

"Miss, you left your keys in your car, Miss" Great. A cop; and he says 'miss' too often. Well, at least they don't know about the car. I don't show any of my emotions though. "Oh really? Thank you so much!" I exclaim. It sounds so fake it makes me want to puke. I turn back to the car and take the key with me. Now what? I'll have to come back and put it back once they're gone…

I'm back in my trashed room. It's probably the worst mess I've ever seen. Not that I mind the scratches up the furniture, it's just that I can't let anyone come inside. Unless of course I want to scare them off – forever. Oh well, that's the price you pay if you're a cat. I give up a hopeless attempt to clean up my room and slump onto the bed. Hell, housework is so exhausting.

Just then there's a harsh knock on the door. I frown. Who the hell would that be? I open the door a little and peer through the crack. There are two men. The larger one has his back turned on me blocking my view. "Excuse me, are you Catalina Ramos?" they ask. "Who wants to know?" I know my answer sounds cliché, but I didn't exactly survive the last sugar mill by wearing my heart on my sleeve. Anyway, the huge guy turns and I can smell the answer even before either one of them opens their mouths. Grimm. Shit! "Detectives Burckhardt and Griffin. Can we talk to you for a while?"

"Just a sec!" I call out, slamming the door shut. I run over to the window and open it up. Making sure there's a way of escape, just in case. Only then I let them come inside. Bad enough that I have to. Oh well, I'll just play the good girl

It takes me a moment to realize that I've actually seen them before. Detective Griffin is the guy from the parking lot, and the Grimm is, well, the Grimm from the police station. Oh great, so much for playing the good girl

"So you're a student at Von Hamlin?" Griffin asks. I scoff, if I'm not gonna play the good girl, I might as well do things properly. "No. Of course not. I'm a student at Vintage in Napa. That's why I live here!" The sarcasm is so evident in my voice I wonder it's not illegal. Surprisingly Griffin strikes back equally cynic, "Oh, you do think you're smart, don't you?" I glare at him "Well, I AM smart. But I guess that's not why you are here." At this, the Grimm speaks up, "No, we're here to talk about Dr. Lawson. He was found dead in his car this morning."

"WHAT?!" This was not what I expected. Not at all. Being raised in a semi-criminal neighborhood, all possible consequences flash through my head. I had problems with Lawson. I'm a suspect. Wait, no, Roddy had problems with Lawson. He is the prime suspect! Oh shit, we are so screwed. But first things first: "It wasn't me!" I blurt out. They both frown, "We weren't implying that. We were just going to ask you a few routine questions." I can feel my claws and canines lengthen to an inch, but I control myself. "Alright. Ask your questions." I growl.

"Okay, first of all, since when have you been at this school?" You had to ask me that, didn't you? Just to annoy me. "Since last Friday." I try not to sound too hostile, as not to make it any worse, but it's hard. Almost too hard.

"And you were thrown out of your last school?" At this I crack. "Come on, you already know all that! I was at your police station! If you're not gonna ask me anything useful, just leave and stop annoying the crap outta me!" Alright, that was probably a little too much. But, let's face it, you couldn't have stayed calm either if there were a cop and a Grimm/cop in your room.

"Whoa! Calm down!" Griffin sounds more annoyed than angry, "Are you always that vicious?" I perfectly snarl at him, but to my enormous surprise it's the Grimm who stops the situation from escalating. "Hank, please." The Grimm's voice is calm, but he makes it clear there's no discussing the matter either. Thank God! A scratched up cop would be harder to explain than a scratched up closet!

Then he turns to me and says, "Fine, here's something we don't know: Where were you yesterday between 9 o' clock and midnight?" For a moment I wish we had stuck with the questions they already know. Instantly, a dozen possible answers flash through my head. Some of them aren't even lies (or at least not entirely). But unfortunately all of them involve Roddy. Not good. They're not supposed to know about him. They're gonna think it was him. They're cops, that's what they do. Always.

"That is," I pause. What am I gonna say now? "Hard to explain" I conclude. Hard to explain? What kind of alibi is that? Oh god. That rat kid must be killing my brains! The Grimm frowns, but doesn't dwell on it either. Thank god! "Alright then. And did you like Dr. Lawson?" I grunt, "Not especially." I hated that guy. From the first time he gave me detention.

"Any problems with him?" he asks again. "Not especially." But I never speak ill of the dead. Especially if they were murdered and I'm a possible suspect. Again he frowns. "So you say, you didn't like him, but you had no problems with him. And you have no alibi, is that what you're saying?" I scowl. That's what I just told you! Weren't you listening? "Remember when I said that was hard to explain? That has not changed." I snarl. Oh hell, I really should learn how to rein in my temper when I'm talking to Grimms. Or cops. Or teachers.

"You do realize this doesn't sound too convincing, don't you?" Of course I do. I'm not stupid. Hank narrows his eyes at me, "You are doing this on purpose. You're mocking us." Yes, I am. But not for the reasons you think. He shakes his head, "See, either you tell us were you happened to be last night, or you go to jail." My nose twitches, but I stay sullen and silent. I don't want to go to jail. But Roddy saved me from getting thrown out and I owe him. I hate owing people. All it does is getting you stuck in situations like this!

The cop and the Grimm both look expectantly at me – As if I was going to spill the beans just because they said I might end up in jail. Seriously, I'm not that much of a pushover! At least I won't end up as cat chow in prison. Since I don't say anything though, Hank heaves a sigh and decides to go on with the next question instead, "So, do you at least know anything about a certain Roddy Geiger, or is that hard to explain too?"

"WHAT?!" How the hell do they know about Roddy? "How the hell do you know about Roddy?" The two cops stare at me. "Aha! So you do know him!" Oh God. Now that's hard to explain! I shift uncomfortably. "Well, I kinda do." A triumphant grin spreads on Hank Griffin's face. Damn, how I'd love to wipe that smile off with my claws!

I can't give the matter another thought though, because he knows he's got me cornered now, "You kinda know him? That's disappointing. The way Carter was going on about it, we thought he was your boyfriend." I flinch, making my claws shoot out again. "Well, it's…" I'm about to say 'it's kinda like that.' But Hank cuts me off, "Don't tell me it's hard to explain!" He exclaims. "It's not," I hiss, "I was at his place yesterday. All night." That's the only upside of them knowing about Roddy. I don't have to go to jail.