A/N: Hey guys! This is the first Jily fic I've uploaded in a very long while, and I'm thrilled to be doing that again. I hope to have some more stuff to share soon!
This is a fic inspired by a random Facebook ad I had last week. Disclaimer: I've never owned a cat. Enjoy!
It is quickly becoming clear to Lily that she has made a terrible mistake and she should have adopted a dog. She, of course, cannot share this newly learned tidbit with anyone, on account of her having spent every day of her life prior to the adoption moaning about how much she wants a cat. The wording of her demands have not changed much-perhaps from asking nicely to begging to all the other stages of grief, but the crux of it has always been: I want a cat.
And a few short months ago, Mary, tired of her rants about how it just isn't fair, Taylor Swift has three, I would love it so hard, snapped at her and said, "For the love of all that is holy, you're a grown adult, just fucking go and get one!"
This had not occurred to Lily before it was thrown at her along with a pillow at her head. That she, as now grown-adult, who pays her own rent and buys her own clothes and decides herself what time she needs to be up tomorrow to get to her aunt's brunch on time...can just get a cat if she wants to.
Which is a testament to how hard her guardian angel works, really. That all this time, just going out to adopt a cat did not occur to her. And now, because of the work of the devil (who answers to Mary), she is stuck with one.
One angry, violent, perpetually hungry, very pregnant cat.
And it's quarantine, so she's got nowhere to escape to. If she had gotten a dog, she'd at least be allowed to go on walks.
"Don't even know how she managed to get knocked up so quickly," Lily grumbles to Mary, pouring a few bits of catnip into one of Jemimah's dozen bowls strewn about their flat. Lily came up with the idea for making her work for her food in an effort to get her to exercise more. "She's such a stupid whore."
"Stop slut-shaming her, Lily," Mary says, sharply. Lily would think her serious, but she recognises the glee in her eyes.
"I can't believe you're enjoying this. When she has her litter, you'll be stuck with all of them, too."
"Ooh, litter? All scientific and detached, are we, hmm?"
"I only wanted one cat."
"But Taylor Swift has three, doesn't she?"
"Shut up," Lily snaps. "This isn't funny anymore, all right? You're not the one who has to go out to vet appointments in-this." Lily waves her arm about to signify the general insanity that is what the world has become.
For Lily has to traverse the jungle that is Infected London once a week now, her pregnant cat in tow. Clad in gloves and a mask and misery. Vet trips are not what a walk with a dog would be like, because a walk with a dog would not include the various sanitation tests Lily has to undergo at Dr Hagrid's office.
"Where has she even gone off to?" She's not in her favoured spot-by the window, body in the sunlight, tail under the shade of Mary's houseplant. And she's not anywhere eating, because Lily would be able to hear her.
"Probably to meet her lover," Mary suggests, stretching out on their only sofa. She waves around the spoon she's holding. "Just because you're stuck inside doesn't mean she is. Cats don't get sick, you know."
"There was a tiger who got sick, wasn't there? And how come she never moves when I want her to?"
Mary shrugs. "She's moving away from you, I guess."
Just then Lily hears it. Angry yowling and heavy thuds. The exact sound made by a pregnant cat trying to get through a pet door, and finding out that she is rapidly growing too fat, and being very upset by this revelation.
"I'm coming, I'm coming," Lily says, sighing as she turns to made her way to save Jemimah from her own stupid stubbornness. She can see her tiny paws trying to claw her way inside. "All right, mind my door, please-oh!"
As Lily opens the door, she sees Jemimah is not alone in trying to push herself inside. Someone's trying to help her. The same messy dark hair, but most definitely not a cat.
"Oh," he says, picking his head up from the floor. "Hi."
"What exactly are you doing? Two metres back! Please!"
"Ah, right, sorry, sorry," the man says getting to his feet and taking a few steps back.
Jemimah slips past her legs, slinking inside, probably making her way to one of her food bowls.
"Now, may I ask who you are?" Lily says, struggling to control her voice. She's quite torn: on one hand, this stranger has been shoving her cat through her doorway, which is not the best look, and she feels like she should be upset about that. On the other hand, she's not seen anyone other than Mary, Dr Hagrid, and the neighbours across the street who wave at them through the window sometimes, and her excitement at meeting a new person is itching at her, climbing up her legs-no, that's Jemimah. She bends down to pick her up.
"I'm James. I'm your in-law. This is for you." He kicks over a package.
It's catnip. "Child support?" Lily reads. Then it hits her. "Oh, you did this to her?"
James grins. "Well, not me."
"Well, your cat."
"Yeah. She's been coming 'round ours for a while now, but I only just noticed she was pregnant. How far along is she?"
"About a month. So...halfway, about."
"Wow. Well. She...I mean, she looks great." He crosses his arms and leans against the wall opposite Lily's flat.
"She does not, but thank you for lying."
He laughs. "I think she's glowing."
"It's the sweat. What's my son-in-law's name?"
"Catrick Sawyze. But only because they look alike."
Now Lily laughs. "I'll need pictures."
"Sure. Or I can bring him around for you to see-from a distance. Or, you know, when this is...over."
"Yeah."
An uncomfortable silence-this is not fun to talk about.
"What's yours, by the way?"
"Hmm?"
"Your name."
"Oh. Lily. Swayze."
James' eyes go wide and his mouth parts open a little, in the most adorable look of startlement Lily has seen since March. "Really?"
"No. Sorry."
Was that weird of her? Has she completely forgotten how to interact with people? Perhaps not, because he laughs again. Or maybe he's also starved for human contact and he's faking it.
"We'll have to have a party. For Pat and Jemimah's babies."
"Sure," Lily says. "Over Zoom."
"Oh, I'm sure we'll be allowed to have small get-togethers by the birth," he says cheerfully.
Lily raises an eyebrow. "That's optimistic."
"It's a gift. Anyway, we'll talk custody later."
"Get a good lawyer," Lily says.
"Oh, d'you want them all?" He sounds surprised.
"No. One is more than enough, thank you."
"Who forced the cat on you?" he says, laughing once more.
God, it's nice to hear a person laugh in front of her. Because of her! And not at her, like Mary always does.
"The devil."
"Oh. Well. She'll be in a better mood shortly. And you can make sure to keep her locked up properly." He winks, and Lily's stomach flutters.
Pathetic, she can hear Mary saying already. But she doesn't see people anymore, and he's cute. She's only human.
"Maybe Jemimah will want partial custody, actually," she says. "We'll have to do house visits. You know eventually."
He grins, hazel eyes twinkling. "Count on it."
Lily drops a kiss on Jemimah's head as she closes the door, hiding her burning face in her fur. There's not much to count on nowadays, so she has to take fit neighbourhood cat owners as they come. Quarantine is no time for choosers.
A/N: Cat owners, how'd I do? Anyone else: I would also like to hear your thoughts:)