For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Both Casey and Ellie are late for their appointed laundry time and Downy is not happy with them. After an impromptu ice cream social, Downy forgives her owners and Ellie shows Casey that she has a unique talent.

Killer

He had just closed the lid on the washing machine when he heard her scream.

"John? John!"

He had his hand on his gun as he moved towards the door. He cast one sidelong glance at Downy. "Stay put," he told the cat as he eased into the Sunday afternoon sunshine. "Ellie?" he called back.

"John, you've got to help me..."

He edged around the building, glancing in the courtyard. "What's wrong?"

"There's a dead body at my door!"

Screwing stealth, he ran into the courtyard, fully expecting to see the decomposing human figure on her doorstep. He'd seen more than his fair share of them in his long, storied career. There were the ones he'd shot, poisoned and blown up. There were those he'd discovered bloated, dismembered or disfigured.

He was certain he'd seen it all.

But he wasn't ready for what scene was set for him in the courtyard.

Ellie stood at her open door, one hand over her eyes, the other holding onto her hamper. She danced from one foot to the other, clearly upset and troubled.

But there was no bleeding, oozing cadaver in the courtyard.

At least, not of a human.

He couldn't help but chuckle slightly when he realized what body it was she was talking about. A seagull was, well, rather decapitated, on her front stoop.

"John?" she asked, unwilling to confirm-visually-that he was there.

"I'm here," he told her.

"Will you get rid of it?"

"Downy left you a present. I don't think she'd be happy with me if I just dispatched of it..."

"But, I would be infinitely happier if you got rid of it and I didn't have to see it. And if you could clean up its little birdie blood, because... I just..."

"You're getting woozy at the sight of blood, there, Dr. Woodcomb?"

"John! There is a dead creature on my doorstep. It's a little different when I'm in scrubs and there are sterile gloves and instruments and not dead things left at my door!"

"All right, all right, relax..."

She could sense his movement, hearing his boots shuffle closer to her door on the courtyard stone. She gasped. "You aren't touching it barehanded, are you?" she asked, daring to peek through her fingers.

He glanced up at her. "Do you want me to remove this thing or not?"

She snapped her fingers closed again. "Yes, but, there... there are all kinds of diseases that can be spread from deceased birds. There's... there's West Nile and there's the bird flu..."

"Are you suggesting we get rid of Downy, too?" Casey asked.

She hesitated. "I'm just saying I'd feel better if you were protected!"

"It's just a dead bird."

"Potentially, its name, before whomever left it here, was Typhoid Toucan!"

"Seagull," he corrected.

"Please..."

He did his best to stifle his laughter. "All right, Ellie, I'll get something to get it up with, so I'm not touching it directly..." As he took a few steps towards his apartment, he heard her call out, very softly.

"Thank you."

He grabbed a garbage bag from his kitchen and returned, scooping it up within, without touching the critter at all. "It's safe now," he told her. "You can open your eyes," he said as he finished tying off the bag.

She slowly spread her fingers again, only daring to look at him through the spaces between. "Are you sure?"

He smirked. "Quite."

"Will you please have a talk with Downy about not killing things...?"

He wasn't sure if she was being serious or joking. "Domesticated house cats are the number one killer on the planet, Ellie. There's absolutely nothing we could say or do to quench that thirst. It's just what they do."

"But," she said, looking down at the slight red stain that was still just outside her door. "But, Downy isn't a house cat, she's a laundry room cat..."

"I don't think she realizes there's a difference."

"But, she should."

"I..."

The look on Ellie's face was just priceless, one Casey tried desperately to commit to memory. Her eyes were guarded, worried, and somewhat little-girl like. She bit the very corner of her bottom lip, like she wanted to believe him but couldn't quite. In spite of the fear, there was so much hope and just plain adorableness.

He couldn't help it as he said: "I'll have a chat with her."

She nodded, relieved, before hesitantly stepping over the entrance, making sure that her foot came nowhere near contacting the spot where the bird body had been. She took such a wide step, she almost fell into him.

He caught her easily as she bobbled, one hand at her elbow, the other at her hip. "All right?"

"I'm doomed. It's the threshold of doom now," she said, looking back at her door.

"Nah. Little bleach washes away a multitude of sins," he assured her.

As they walked towards the laundry room together, he couldn't help but think that maybe Downy was one-half Casey, too.

Stay tuned...