And just as she hoped, Clara had slept peacefully and through the entire night. In fact, she slept so well that she didn't wake until about two hours past her normal time. For a long while, she lay in her bed, staring out the window that was curtained. Rays of sunlight dared to sneak through, but not obtrusive enough to land in her eyes. It was quiet and still, hardly a noise could be heard in the house. For a moment, she could almost pretend that Francis was alive, that the fox and cat weren't there, and that all was right. But...it was short lived when her mind pointed out reality. If only her garden hadn't gone to hell during her grief, she might have been excited to see what yesterday's rain had brought for today. Instead, there would only be mud.
Clara sat up and, without thinking, reached out to touch the side that Katz had slept on. She knew he had gone to bed sometime last night because she had woken just slightly to feel a dip in the mattress next to her. It was cool and made up, as much as it could be with her still sleeping. Well, if it was silent in the house, that meant that Katz could have choked Cajun out or the other way around. Or maybe they had taken their fight outside, trying to be clever about her rules. Except...she didn't think either were possibile.
Clara got dressed as her mind wondered to possibilities that involved all three of them - plans, scams, and schemes. She put on a burnt orange skirt and a white top, mindful of the mud that would be outside until the sun baked it all back to dirt. As she did, she wondered what they should start off with. While she was used to working alone and working with another, these two weren't. This meant they had to start off on a low-risk, low-gain plan just to break them in.
Perhaps a simple pick-pock-distraction would work. Yes, they could go to a city where humans and animals mixed easily and they could pick-pocket the tourists. One could distract, possibly two could distract - a fighting couple always drew attention without drawing police - while the third stole from the on-lookers. Yes, that seemed like a good warm up, she decided.
As she started her way down the stairs, she was surprised to catch the scent of sugar and coffee. Perhaps Katz had made his tea earlier, she thought. When she got to the kitchen, noticing the living room was empty, the origins of these scents became obvious. Before her on the table was a pot of coffee and a pile of whiter-than-snow pastries. Her stomach growled, announcing her before she could.
"Good mornin' sleepin' beauty,'' Cajun called out as he put down the last pot from the kitchen sink. He didn't even turn around to look at her. "Thought all that excitement from last night might require a pick-me-up."
Clara took a moment to regain her thoughts. "Morning. What...are they?" She walked over and picked up a pastry, surprised to feel and see that the little brown square was covered in powdered sugar.
"Beignets," Cajun smiled as he turned to face her, his hands free of any dish or soap now, "just like mama used to make 'em." When she didn't immediately shove the fried treat in her mouth, he tsked and walked over. "Here, I'll show you they're perfectly fine - better than fine, actually. No poison added." He winked as he took a bite of one. "Mmm-hm! Wash it down with some black coffee - ain't no better way to start your day!"
Clara grinned a bit. There was a reasonable doubt she had of him, but he sensed it and accepted it. Their situation was different how he came into her life, more so than with Katz. Which reminded her… "Did Katz already eat?" She watched as Cajun poured her a cup of coffee and sat down.
"Hell if I know, the grouchypants took off when I started to wash dishes."
This news surprised her in a way she hadn't expected. Clara sat and took the cup, letting the warmth from it warm her fingers. "Took off? Where to?" He hadn't left since he had first come.
Cajun shrugged. "Maybe to his catnip dealer, Heaven only knows that man needs to calm down." He polished off that same beignet. When their eyes met - his were still behind his shades - he let his tongue run over the powdered sugar from his thumb and index finger. Bold as brass, he winked at her, an action just visible given their closeness.
With her own treat partly to her lips, Clara felt a flutter in her stomach. So he laying on the flirting already before her coffee, was he? She smirked and knew she had to dish it back, for practice of course. She took a small bite of the beignet and gave a moan of pleasure. "Mm, oh, Cajun," she dragged out the syllables, "ooh my, this is won-der-ful!"
The fox's brows shot up and his lips went to a surprised 'o' shape to a wide grin. "If that's your reaction to my sweets, imagine what sounds you'd make if you had a taste of me!"
It was tempting for Clara to laugh, to switch it off and finish her actually very delicious pastry, but something stoked in her, her sense of pride and desire to win. She leaned forward against the table, her breasts on the table and pushed up further by her white, long-sleeve shirt with a low cut neck. "Why imagine when we can make it a reality, pet?" Her voice was low, seductive, and to add to it, she let her tongue dart out over her lips briefly.
If steam could have shot out of his ears, it would have. Cajun sat up straight and looked surprised, even perhaps a hint of pink to his face, before he let out a loud laugh. He clapped twice in appreciation as Clara took a sip of her coffee, smiling into it as she knew she had made him crack first. "Cheeky little thing when you've had a full night's rest!" When he looked at her, his eyes roamed freely, and though Clara felt her skin tingle as if his gaze were tangible, she didn't move. He leaned forward and spoke in a low volume, "I'll be your pet if you be mine."
Clara couldn't help but let a breathy laugh leave her. "Funny," she mused after taking the last bite and picking up another fried treat, "I don't recall you being so charming back then." Back then meaning four or so years ago in Louisiana. She wasn't entirely sure if she could afford to bring that up so casually as she did, especially given how he seemed to tense, his grin almost fake.
One thing she had picked up on between yesterday and today was that the fox was a bit loopy and very moody. Perhaps, upon further reflection, it wasn't wise to test her limits with him knowing him so little and being alone with him like this. Though he looked unhappy at going down memory lane, he responded with a light tone, "Maybe if you hadn't come to steal my recipe, I would have stolen your heart, cherie."
Clara inhaled sharply, suddenly taken down memory lane with him in vivid detail. Four years ago, Clara and Francis had wanted to travel for a bit. They chose Louisiana because people were so trusting. It was a county fair they had decided to go to, ride rides, eat junk food, and watch contests. It was at one of these contests that she had overheard a certain orange-haired fox talking loudly about his four-generation-passed-down recipe that would win him the prize of a couple grand. Francis and Clara had easily found a buyer for the brass and loud fox and while Clara distracted him, Francis managed to catch a copy of the recipe written down. A couple thousand dollars later, and…
She looked down at her black coffee. Would she apologize for that? Would she apologize to Katz for the spider-swiping? No. No, she wouldn't, just as she expected either of them to refuse to do so as well. Take advantage before you got taken advantage of, she reminded herself of her motto. She looked up at him, at his sunglasses, and said softly, "C'est la vie. Such is life, Fox." She added, "If I hadn't, we wouldn't have crossed paths like this again."
His smirk was hard to read. Damn the sunglasses. Cajun stood and studied her for a second longer. No doubt he was recalling her flirting and distracting in a disguise four years back, how she had moved her body, batted her lashes. Hadn't she been wearing an animal disguise? She had...what was it again? Was it a bunny? How appropriate. "Ah, if I hadn't won you over the first time, mon cherie, I'll strive to do better this time." He then turned away to the sink again, "Eat up."
She did, but not with as much relish as before. In fact, she was distracted. Was he flirting with her to gain something as she did to him long ago? It was a reminder to go easy and slow with the first few heists. All of them would be a test of trust for them both. By the time she had finished breakfast, if it could be called that, something occurred to her. "Cajun," she started.
"Hm?" He asked as he put up dishes.
"Is…I mean, 'Cajun' can't actually be your first name, is it?"
The man turned to look at her, smiling wide. His tail swished. "Of course not, cherie, but what's life without a bit of secret?" It made sense that he would have a name his family once called him, but kept it secret so no others would know. Wasn't her street name 'Winnie', after all? And Francis had been 'Frankie'. For the fox to guard his so closely though...well, she understood. She nodded.
Before conversation could be had further, the sound of a door shutting outside penetrated the kitchen. Clara was about to stand when the front door opened. In walked Katz with a bag. She raised a brow. "Well hi there. What's in the bag?"
"Catnip?" Cajun called out.
Katz rolled his eyes and didn't bother to respond to the fox. Instead, he opened up the bag and dumped the materials onto the table. Maps, maps, lists, and more lists. There were even some makeup pieces. Clara stared, processing.
It was their starter kit for scam-prep.
"So we're decided." Clara announced after the clock struck five. The day had flown by with details, discussions, and meticulous plans. They had cleared out the kitchen table to spread maps, lists of names, and recent newspapers from various cities. They had gone through several cups of tea and coffee, sweet and unsweet. Cajun had made strong sweet tea, Katz unsweet strong tea, and Clara strong coffee with just a touch of honey. "The second mix city, tourist spot, pick-pocketing and snake oil sales. Katz and I will be the 'couple' in a fight, Cajun you pick pocket. Then Katz will be the salesman in another area and Cajun will be the first customer and I'll be the second. Total Sweeney Todd of sorts. Yes?" The two men agreed. "The code word for an emergency will be…" She thought.
"Merde." Cajun supplied.
Clara smiled and even Katz smirked. "Merde it is." She agreed. "I don't have a phone so if we get split up, just come back here - make sure you aren't followed."
Cajun gave a scoff and leaned back in his chair, his tail moving softly. "Make sure your little fanclub ain't at your heels, pussycat." They just couldn't resist snipping at each other.
Katz crossed his arms. "Try not to give us away with your horrific slang, fox."
"What time will we be leaving?" Clara interrupted the pair. Honestly, this wasn't the first time today that she felt like an audience member to their bantering.
"I say let us leave at eleven," Katz supplied, "as I expect the tourists will be out for lunch at noon."
"Right," she nodded, "I'll be up early to put on a disguise."
This seemed to perk up the orange haired man a bit. "Oooh, what are you goin' as?"
Something in Clara perked up as a sort of lighthearted tease. "I was thinking of a rabbit." Like how you first saw me four years ago, she meant.
The fox must have understood because he stilled, her reflection in his glasses sharp and steady, until he grinned wide. "Saucy little minx," he leaned forward and murmured, "You'd make for a good pet of mine out there."
Excited and pushed forward by it, she smirked and shot back, "You wouldn't be able to control me, Fox." It was play acting for tomorrow, she told herself. It was to get into character, to be able to switch her moods and behavior on the drop of a pin. It was all acting. Wasn't it?
Cajun barely missed a beat. "Give me a chance to try and we'll both have fun."
Before she could continue on, Katz cleared his throat. "If you both are done with this revolting display…"
"Someone's jealous." Cajun murmured as he stood, going to the fridge.
One may as well have stepped on Katz's tail for the way he reacted, his tail and his ears straight and his eyes wide. "How is it you managed to be even more wrong than normal, Fox?!" He snapped.
"Calm down," Clara chuckled, a noise she hadn't really given into since Francis had gone missing, "we're both just teasing each other. It's been a while since I acted…"
"Enough shop talk," the fox said as he turned around, having pulled out a pot from the fridge, "let's eat!"
After dinner, Clara found herself mentally drained. Katz didn't eat the gumbo again, which made her wonder if he had eaten anything of substance since yesterday, but she didn't pry. He was a big boy, he could handle himself. He wasn't like she had been not too long ago. In any case, she and Cajun polished off the remaining gumbo. Truth be told, it reminded her just a bit of her time in Louisiana with Francis, the memory having been buried since Francis passed. It brought up more memories of him, more than she cared to admit, leaving her quiet. The orange haired man did enough talking for all three of them though, most of which was funny, amusing, and just plain odd at times.
Clara was glad that there was no incident like last night when the trio decided to go to sleep. She brushed her teeth first and changed into her blue pajama set. By the time Katz got into the bathroom to brush his teeth, Clara was out on the bed, worn out from the day of excitement, stress, and planning of a scam.
She dreamt that night. With the floodgates open of memories with Francis, she dreamt of their travels. Train hopping and bus sneaking were their favorite ways to travel when they were young. It wasn't just Louisiana that they visited, but other southern states, even a few out to the west. Any further and they may have settled elsewhere. So many memories, so much laughter and successful schemes, so many close calls that made the risk worth it. Of course her memories-turned-dreams would morph into nightmares.
Francis' corpse, bullets ripped through his guts, looking at him at the morgue...and worse, he started to talk in her nightmare, bloody foam and guts leaking out of his mouth as part of his facial skin started to slide off. 'So that's it? That's all I'm worth? A mere month of mourning and you're off with not just one, but two guys? I guess I should take it as a compliment that it takes two to replace me, but wow Winnie, I thought we had something good. Guess it mattered more to me than you, doll. It always did.'
In the midst of the nightmare-Francis berating her, Clara must have started to move and talk in her sleep. It was one of the few times she remembered half-waking, breathing heavily as if she had been running, with her cheeks damp from tears she had been unwittingly shedding. But that wasn't what woke her, nor was it the nightmare itself. No, it was an external noise.
"Shh...shh, dear girl...shh…" It wasn't just the words, but there was a physical sensation she couldn't account for at first. She had turned towards the noise unconsciously and she felt a warm hand pressed against her upper back, rubbing small circles. The voice sounded tired and half-awake themselves, the touch a simple but consistent movement.
Eyes now open, it took a moment to adjust to what she was seeing. Of course, it didn't help that the tears had blurred her vision at first. When she was finally able to see, moonlight peeking in through the curtain to illuminate the room, she realized she was staring at...a chest. Katz's chest. And it was his hand rubbing her back. It was his voice murmuring, tired as it was, reassurances. It was his face she saw when she looked up, though he didn't see her looking at him as his own eyes were still closed loosely. "Shh, sweet girl, shh…"
Any remnants of sleep left her. All her treacherous mind whispered from her nightmare one last time: 'Guess it mattered more to me than you, doll. It always did'. A fresh sob bubbled through her lips, the air ripped from her lungs as she gave into it all: the grief, the self-loathing, the guilt, the pain. She pressed herself against Katz, her arm wrapped around him to press against his back as she trembled and shook, crying freely.
This woke Katz up fully. There was the sound of him shuffling, the feel of him sitting up ever so slightly to get a better look of what was going on. No, she wasn't physically injured, he could reassure himself of that, but it only offered a second of comfort. His other arm wrapped around her and while one hand kept rubbing circles on her upper back, the other simply rested on the small of her back. She could feel his body relax slightly against the bed, but she knew his eyes were still open and on her. He let her get it out, sobs and all. After a couple of minutes, she heard his voice, no longer tired but still just as cotton soft, "Shh...shh…it's alright. You're safe, Clara, you're alright...shh…"
Later, not now, Clara would marvel that that was the first time he had used her name. Now, however, she was still in the mess of emotions that the nightmare had caused. She gave a sniffle and a hiccup, feeling her limbs tremble as she tried to sit up a bit. The tears had stopped and the sorrow had lessened, but there was still the unease and fear from the words and image her mind produced of Francis. She knew Katz felt her entire body trembling because his tail, conscious or otherwise, reached up to wrap around her waist, a sign of reassurance.
Clara had to work on minimizing the shaking by taking deep, slow breaths. His steady, constant warm touch helped with that. When she looked up, she realized that Katz had shifted to partially sit up against the headboard. His yellow eyes glowed in the dimly lit room, bright and wide, taking her in. She would feel embarrassed tomorrow in the light of day, but tonight, she didn't have enough room in her for that. She rubbed the heel of her hand against her eyes, banishing the last bit of tears.
"I...I'm sorry," when she spoke, her voice shook, "I didn't mean to...to wake you." And he was indeed awake, wide awake if his gaze was any indication. It was only then that Clara registered that she was still in his arms, body pressed against his. Her face flushed.
If Katz was bothered by this, he didn't let it be only real difference was that his hand had stopped rubbing circles on her back, but he kept his hold on and around her. "It is fine. It isn't the first time...nor will it be the last."
Clara blinked. "Wait, what?" She sat up a bit straighter. "What do you...not the first time?"
Katz let his hands fall back to his lap, though his tail remained still. He gave a scoff, but there was no bite or edge to his tone. "Foolish girl, do you really think you've slept through the nights since I arrived?" He sighed. "You've had nightmares nearly every night. Usually you don't wake as you did tonight. I am typically able to...soothe you back to sleep before it escalates." He seemed a bit...embarrassed to admit this.
Clara didn't respond right away, but processed the information. Well, yes, she supposed it made sense that she did in fact have nightmares every night. She had had nightmares shortly after Francis' death but before Katz had moved himself in, be it night slumbers or daytime naps. She had had a nightmare during her nap the other day and at Courage's. It was indeed foolish of her to assume these had stopped abruptly. And yet...she was shocked to find out that Katz had been calming her in her sleep for the past several nights. And how did he do that? Tired, half-awake caresses and murmurings.
The human wasn't entirely sure how to handle that revelation. Had that factored some of his original emotional reaction to Cajun when bed layouts had been discussed the other night? Oh, the recollection of the fox made Clara tense; had the fox heard her cries? No, or else he would have barged in or something, wouldn't he? One problem at a time, she decided.
"You...you have?" She finally said a bit stupidly. At his uncomfortable slight nod of the head, she took a shaky breath. "Um...thank you then, Katz." She murmured softly. There was a mixture of emotion, particularly with the relief and gratitude. "You...you didn't have to…"
He gave an uncharacteristic snort and shifted his weight, sitting back a bit more comfortably though it didn't put much distance between them. "No, I did, otherwise I wouldn't have been able to sleep."
A soft blush appeared on her face though it was hard to spot in the dim light. "I mean, you could have just kicked me awake and let me handle it."
His ears twitched, catching the soft vulnerability in her tone. He cleared his throat and looked away. "I could have...but I am not that heartless." Was it the trick of the light or was he blushing as well? "If that is all, girl, we should both return to our slumber. Tomorrow will be a long day and we need to be sharp for it." He started to slide lower on the bed to lay down, but he didn't make a move to extract himself from Clara. He was, after all, on 'his side' of the bed. Gingerly, his tail unwrapped from her. It surprised her how she immediately missed that sensation.
Nodding, she gave a sigh and followed his lead, sliding down to lay completely flat once more. "Yes...tomorrow." She didn't roll away or scoot back though, instead opting to remain facing him and being within arms reach - just in case of another nightmare, she told herself. Katz didn't protest.