January 20, 2010
"Who let the cat out?"
"Milliardo, th-"
"Treize."
Treize suffered the pale-eyed glare over the rim of his china cup.
"The cat got out. Go put it back in, would you, Zechs?"
Zechs shook out the magazine he was reading.
"Why is it always my job to go get the cat?"
"Because Mother asked you to. She doesn't want it worrying the peacocks."
"It's your cat."
"It's your turn."
"You're just jealous because she likes me better than she likes you."
"Zechs, the cat-"
"I'm going."
From his cushioned chair, Zechs uncrossed his legs and laid the magazine down before rising to shimmy out the sliding glass door that revealed part of the Khushrenada's atrium on the other side. Treize set his cup down on the table, the hot beverage inside threatening to spill over as he tried not to snicker at the sounds of Zechs' voice beckoning the cat, trying to make his voice sound endearing, the attempt endearing in itself. He sat back in his seat again, lifting the cup to his lips, then looked towards the door way when he heard foosteps.
Zechs opened the sliding door and stepped into the house, removing his boots just quickly to have the heel of the second boot land on the last portion of the mat while the top part tipped onto the pristine floor.
"She's not coming, I'm getting one of your coats."
Zechs was determinedly out of the room before Trieze could protest and after he gave a resigned sigh.
Treize heard footsteps again, this time at a much, much quicker pace then before and openly smiled at the blond blur that ran past the glass door and into the atrium, followed by a second, longer and, unfortunately, faster blond blur, the two colliding somewhere beyond sight and Treize then found himself struggling to differentiate the laughter from the cursing, the growls from one and the growls from the other.
Within a few minutes, a dishevelled looking Zechs slid through the glass door, dragging his borrowed coat which he left on the mat next to his boots which now bore teeth marks. The African lioness paced back and fourth in front of the glass and stretched herself upright, paws high, to peer in at the two men. She slid back down on her fours and traced her nose along the door where Zechs has just slipped in. The young man was settling back into his previous chair.
Treize looked down into his cup, which was now cold.
"Did you call the tailor?"
"Yes."
"Are you going to get the sleeve back?"
The young lioness outside had a bit of finely stitched fabric pinned with her two front paws a tugged at it with her teeth.
"No."
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This scenario has been in my head for years, I can't believe it never occurred to me to put it here. I've always pictured Treize as being the sort to have his own menagerie. Can't remember if there were peacocks hanging around Romefeller in the series or not but you know that Treize is they to have them on front lawn!
