A/N: Third installment and we're moving right along! I'm preparing these first few chapters before my work week starts, though, so I don't know how long I'll realistically be able to keep it up. I fell behind a couple of times last year and I could see it happening again. But, for now, we're in pretty good shape. :)

Day 3 | Rick/Mariah | Rated: M for Rick's potty mouth

Pets

"No. Absolutely the fuck not."

"Don't be so heartless, Rick!" Mariah exclaimed. She had the nerve to sound affronted. Like it was downright blasphemy for Rick to refuse some critter she found in the gutter entry to his apartment. Her face screwed up into a glare that, somehow, came across as half pout, too. "It's pouring down rain!"

Rick scowled. He could tell by the way Mariah and her new friend were dripping onto the hallway carpet.

The friend in question was the ugliest fucking cat Rick had ever seen. It was scrawny, with a rat-like tail swishing back and forth and one ear that looked like a bite had been taken out of it. Its giant, yellow eyes were glaring daggers at him from the comfort of Mariah's arms.

"It's been raining," he pointed out, his grip on the door tightening in case she tried to force her way in. Her eyes – and the cat's – narrowed. "Take that thing back outside. Put it in the parking garage or whatever, but it's not coming in here."

"But, Rick—"

"But, nothing! I'm not paying to keep it here just to have to flea bomb the apartment and treat myself for fucking rabies when it claws my eyes out in the middle of the night!"

Rick wasn't a cat person. Maybe if he was, he'd have known not to make a grab for it when it looked like the only way it was gonna make it back downstairs was if he took it himself. His hands barely touched it before it yowled and sprung out of Mariah's grasp, scrambled up and over Rick's shoulder, and off into his apartment.

"Son of a bitch!"

"Hey!" Mariah rushed past him and fell to her hands and knees behind the couch. Rick could ear angry hissing and spitting coming from underneath as he slammed the door shut behind him.

"It clawed me!" Rick growled, pulling his sleeve aside to check the damage.

"You scared him!" Mariah scolded. There were scratches on her arm, too, but she was more concerned about the stupid cat under the couch. "He was only trying to get away."

"Well now I'm gonna need a fucking tetanus shot."

"Don't be a baby!"

Rick glowered and stomped into the living area, fully intent on getting the cat out of the couch and out of his apartment by any means necessary. As he got closer, it started to growl and, when he knelt down and made to stick his arm under the couch, it took a swipe at him.

"Motherfucker," he spat and flinched.

"Don't!" Mariah warned, tugging at him until he acquiesced and sat back onto his heels. "He's mad now!"

"That makes two of us!"

"Listen, Rick," Mariah said in that annoying tone she got when she thought he was being difficult for no reason, but he was really being sensible with a slight temper. "We need to let him acclimate. Let's have dinner and give him space – he'll probably come out then."

"I don't want it to acclimate." The sliver of space between the couch and the floor was taunting him. "I want that thing out of here!"

"Be patient!" she shot back and went to prepare dinner.

Rick wanted to tell her that he was actually being extremely fucking patient for someone who'd had a stray cat let loose in his apartment and was then told not to be a baby about it.

Instead, he helped Mariah put dinner together, keeping one eye on the couch at all times. He spent their entire meal ready to pounce if he saw even one paw pop out into the open, but the time never came. He thought the cat might have fallen asleep, until he made the mistake of sitting down to watch the news and the growling started again.

"Fuck this, I'm going to bed," he grumbled. He stepped over Mariah – already on the floor shushing the cat – on his way to the bedroom and shut the door behind him.

Mariah never came to bed and he found himself waking up every two hours to strain his ears for trouble. He never heard a peep from her or the cat. Whether that meant it was still hiding or settled in and roaming, Rick didn't approve.

The last thing he remembered was thinking about getting up and cracking the balcony door in hopes the cat would slip out into the night. The next morning came faster than he would have liked after a night spent tossing and turning.

Any delusions he held about things looking better in the daylight were scrapped the second he stumbled out of the bathroom. He'd spent ten minutes in the shower scrubbing any cat crud out of his scratches, only to find the offending animal on his kitchen counter, eating out of a tuna can.

Mariah stood nearby, absentmindedly stroking its fur with a tired smile on her face. Now that it was dry, the cat was extremely fluffy and, somehow, twice as mean-looking.

"I thought I told you to get that fucking thing out of here," Rick said grumpily. Never mind that the shelters probably weren't open at seven in the morning. He grabbed a water from the fridge, careful to give the cat a wide berth. "What's it doing on the counter?"

"He only came out a little bit ago," Mariah explained while stifling a yawn. She looked like she'd spent the night on the floor; there were dark circles under her eyes and blankets beside the coffee table. "I just finished brushing him. Doesn't he look handsome?"

Rick looked at her like she had a second head. Then at the cat – it was glaring at him with tuna stuck in its crooked whiskers. And finally at the counter. Even though it was designed to hide crumbs, he could tell it was covered in a fine layer of cat hair and there was even more in the brush.

"Is that my fucking hairbrush?!" He slammed his water down on the counter and the stupid cat hissed and puffed up to the general size and shape of a rabid raccoon.

Mariah scooped it up into her arms and comforted it like a baby.

"What if it has fleas?!"

"You don't even use that hairbrush!"

"My place is gonna be fucking infested!"

"Rick," Mariah said firmly. If she didn't have a cat in her arms, she'd probably have her hands on her hips. "You're being dramatic. He's a cat, not a sewer rat. All he needs is patience and a loving home. It wouldn't kill you to have some companionship while I'm away."

Rick's jaw dropped. "I'm not keeping it!"

"Well, I can't take him back with me."

"Why do either of us need to have anything to do with it?!" Rick threw his hands in the air and the cat's ears flattened back on its head. "Look!" he added, as it began trying to wriggle over Mariah's shoulder, "it doesn't even want to be here!"

"Stop shouting!" Mariah snapped, eyes blazing in a way that reminded Rick of the damn cat, of all things.

She heaved the cat off of her, not even flinching when its nails left holes in the t-shirt she was wearing (which Rick belatedly realized was his), and shoved it against his chest. She held it there, locked in a stare down with Rick, until he was forced to take hold of it in fear that it would scratch his nipples off if he didn't angle its claws the other way.

"What the hell are you giving me this for?"

"Keep an eye on him while I get ready," she ordered. "We're going to the pet store."

"Shelter," Rick corrected firmly. Mariah might be able to invite herself into his apartment every time she was in town, but he wasn't about to let her bring every animal in New York City in off the streets. Especially when she was just gonna piss off back to China and leave him with the fallout.

"It's Sunday," Mariah reminded him smugly. "He's at least staying until tomorrow and he can't stay without proper food and a litter box."

Rick scowled and watched her turn on her heel. He considered double-checking if there was a shelter nearby open on Sundays, but he knew the universe wasn't that kind to him. His train of thought was broken when he felt a sudden, sharp pain on the back of his hand.

He swore and dropped the cat to examine the bite marks it left behind.

"Oh, Rick?" Mariah poked her head out of the bathroom.

"What?" he grumbled, already on his way to the sink to wash his hand.

"Keep an eye on him – he hasn't gone to the bathroom since I brought him in."

With that revelation, Rick hurried to find his unwanted companion. Thankfully, when he did, it was slinking around behind the curtains instead of pissing on his carpet. It started and hissed when he picked it up by surprise, but he wasn't about to leave it to wander around making a mess.

After careful deliberation, he sat gingerly on the couch with the cat in his lap. It growled in warning, but otherwise made less of a fuss than he was expecting. Good. He didn't want scratched up thighs or a shredded leather sofa.

The cat gave one displeased meow and looked back at Rick with a grumpy expression he was beginning to suspect was permanent. It meowed again.

"I don't know what the fuck you're saying," Rick said, immediately feeling like an idiot for answering a cat.

It was probably his imagination when the next meow sounded a little forlorn.

In the bathroom, the shower kicked on. Rick slouched back into the sofa, tipping his head over the back with a huff. The cat sighed and laid down in his lap. Rick was too paranoid to let go of it, but it must have decided it didn't give a shit, because it began to purr.

"Don't get comfortable," Rick scoffed, even as the sound of the shower, paired with the purring and his own lack of sleep, made him begin to nod off.

The next thing he knew, he was woken up by the sound of Mariah's laughter.

"I thought you two didn't get along?" She was leaning over the back of the couch, peering down at him.

Rick glared halfheartedly at her through the mass of fur obscuring his vision. Sometime after he dozed off, the cat had crawled up his chest and went to sleep on his collarbone. It's tail was what was all over his face. Damn thing was still purring.

"We don't."

Mariah laughed and brushed some fur aside to kiss Rick's forehead.

"Whatever you say, Rick."

A/N: While I was writing this chapter, one of my cats demanded attention by chewing on my toes. Then I had to pause writing again later to pull a whole piece of her fur out of my eye. 10/10 cat experience.

Anyway, this was an idea I've had for a while and I honestly don't even know if I wrote it down in my notes anywhere? But I can 100% see Mariah deciding Rick's apartment needs a cat. It would probably end up following him around more than her and he'd get pissy about it.

Anyway, thank you for reading!