What are the paw-sibilities?
(part 1 of mini series)
Tony is ex-mafia, or well, somewhat. He still has the connections but after his fiancee's death he couldn't stand to look at a gun anymore. He grew up with butterfly knives under his pillow, his father’s cigar and blood on the porch. Pepper was different–she was breeze compared to Tony’s typhoon and her hands had soothed the scars on the chest when nobody had dared to look twice at him. She was brave, beautiful and so so much bigger than the life Tony could give her.
On the first anniversary of Pepper's death he spent the day drinking in front of her grave–he had bought flowers for sure, but the details were missing (didn’t she say she hated dandelions?)–till some punk kids in clown clothes started heavily making out two tombstones away. He grumbled and fumbled but made his way out on the cold October street, noting somberly that the sun had set hours back.
He stumbled towards his apartment, head not cleared from all those drinks. Nearing the alley adjacent to his apartment, Tony stopped momentarily and blinked. He heard a distressed call, a keen sound that wasn't entirely human. Sobering up quickly Tony looked around the dark alley. The sound Increased in volume and then–
"A kitty," Tony said to himself as he picked up the malnourished feline from a wet cardboard box. The kitten mewled helplessly, its earthy eyes shone under the fluorescent overhead light, blinking in tandem with Tony. It was a white tabby. "Who left you here all by yourself?"
The kitten mewled again, tiny claws clinging onto Tony's coat. Tony ran a deeply calloused finger through its nape, checking the temperature and noting the coldness. "Shit, I have to take you home-- Rodney, I need to call my platypus. He would know what to do,"
The bout of drunkenness had left the man's body as he quickly stomped towards the elevator, cradling a sleepy kit very close to his chest. Once inside (with difficulty, the kitten refused to be let down) his apartment he ran straight to his bedroom, Tony quickly picked a towel and wrapped it around the shivering animal, putting it down on his unmade bed. Now he had a call to make.
He turned around to find his phone only to realise he probably discarded it around the living room couch, with a sigh he eyed the kitty. "Stay here, baby. I'll be back."
Getting a hold of his phone, he walked back into the bedroom, scratching his neck in consideration. "Rodhey is my best bet right now--"
The kitten was gone.
No, no. Wait.
What?
"What the fuck did I drink today?"
There was no cat on his bed. The animal he left behind swaddled into a warm towel had disappeared, or more like, morphed into a human being. A very human child.
"What the fuck?"
