The DO isn’t a Cat Person (Chapter 3)
Ao3 Link
ghostwriter107 prompted: Regina decides that Graham is Animal Control and sends him around to collect the Blue-Eyed Menace. Of course, he still shares that sweet bond with her, and Gold feels a bit jealous when he sees how affectionate Cat is with the sheriff. When push comes to shove and the sheriff starts to leave with her, she shows her avid preference for Gold and he......
“Mr. Gold.”
“Sheriff Graham.”
“I assume you know why I’m here?”
And Gold did know. Oh, and he had quite the crap-pot of feelings about it.
The young sheriff stood at his porch with his hands on his hips, looking as out-of-place as Gold felt. Though the other had a cat-sized crate in one hand, and a noose on a stick in the other. And really, he wasn't surprised to see the sheriff responding as "Animal Control". Storybrooke had no serious animal issues, just one small shelter, but that was it. Clearly, Regina saw that it was time for Cat to go. And Graham was the only one some-what qualified for the job. Why, though, the young man came here, was beyond him.
“I find it amusing you come here to catch the little beastie,” he comments, opening the door wider as if to show his cat-free house. “It’s not even mine.”
“Yes,” Graham mused. “Yet I can’t really picture you without her, Mr. Gold.”
“Humph.”
“Meow!” Yowled the last voice he wanted to hear. Instantly, both men turned toward the source of the noise. Which was right by his feet.
Cat came waltzing out with her back stretched up, yawning from her earlier cat-nap on the back of the sofa by the window. Before it decided to become his own little poltergeist, he kept the curtains closed to keep his treasures from sun damage, but Cat seemed to dislike that, and somehow managed to pull them open when he wasn’t around.
Damn cat.
Meowing again, it brushed up against his leg slyly as it crept out of his home, eyes pinned on the sheriff with a pleased little expression.
“Well,” the sheriff said, dropping the animal noose to squat down on his heels. “She doesn’t look feral or rabid.”
“If one counts getting hair on my suits as feral, then you might want to change that statement.”
Graham shrugged and reached out to pluck the little beastie up, of which Gold found startling. Cat only let Henry pick her—it! It had no place in his heart!—up, but clearly the sheriff was an exception. Not so loyal now, are we? Gold wondered to himself with an internal sneer. Mostly to ignore the burn in his heart at the site of Cat rubbing herself all over the sheriff like some four legged floozy.
“I’ll get out of your hair, sir,” the young man said politely. He turned to the crate and opened the door. “The mayor wants to see that this little girl gets home.”
“Home being the afterlife?”
Graham looked aghast. “No—“
“You and I both know if it’s a pest that Ms. Mills wants gone, she gets rid of it.”
The young man gulped and readjusted his hold on Cat. “You know, Mr. Gold, if you want to keep her you can claim her as your property.”
Gold scoffed. “It’s not mine,” he repeated himself. “Just get it off my property.”
“Alright,” the other said, before pulling Cat from his chest to put her in the crate.
Right before she hissed.
It startled the sheriff as much as it did Gold, causing the young man to drop the feline. The four legged menace hissed against and dashed inside, darting past Gold without so much as a rub on his leg. Not like he was expecting it or anything.
And then came a game of cat-and-mouse, but the mouse was in place of the cat and was human. Gold winced and kept himself from yelling at the sheriff who was only doing his job, though much of his furniture was nearly knocked over in the process.
When the adrenaline-worn sheriff came up for air from the chase, he had Cat on the end of the noose, like a pet at the end of leash. She hissed and yowled, fighting frantically when Graham had to drag her out of the house.
Gold stood by. Watching. Waiting. Worried.
Graham managed to toss cat into the crate and slam the door, panting up a storm. Turning to Gold, he said, “I can see why Regina wanted her away from the children now.”
“Hmm.”
Cat yowled sadly from her cage and it just bit at his soul—
“Wait,” Gold cut out, like a knife through butter. “I’ve changed my mine.”
Curious, Graham turned to him with one brow raised. From the cage, looking out with wide, wide blue eyes, was the blasted cat. She cried out again, sticking out one tiny white paw and waving it around in the air, as if reaching for him. Having seen enough (and really, wasn’t this animal abuse? He wasn’t about to get blamed if Cat turned out to have a broken bone from the sheriff’s lack of carefulness), Gold bent down and snatched the lock on the crate open, letting the blasted thing free.
She bolted to him, meowing pitifully and trying to entwine itself between his legs.
Gold really needed to get over this flee bag.
He looked to the sheriff, serious-faced. “I’m claiming her.”