Sal, Butter and Pepper || ONC2024

Chapter 2: An Unexpected Arrival

Crash.

Bang.

Butter's super sensitive senses killed his nap short, breaking the spell of slumber he was under. Thankfully, his mistress wasn't affected by the cacophony of people (and probably equipment) crashing into each other on one of resort's lower floors.

He had barely opened his eyes when someone yelled, "Damn it, Jared. Watch your step, will you!?"

"Not my problem. I was here first. Take your business elsewhere," a sharp voice snapped back.

Even before the first voice could retort, a third voice interjected, "Move your camera out of my face, dimwit!"

Butter hated chaos. He reckoned that was exactly what was happening a few floors below. In his modest opinion, everyone who was yelling at the top of their lungs in the middle of the afternoon was a dimwit.

He turned to face Pepper, and before the dimwits woke her up, he softly caressed her cheek and whispered, "Sleep, my lady."

Satan knows she needs it.

Sure that his mistress would continue to sleep, he took to the window sill again. Looking down from their fourth-floor room, he caught a hoard of cars crowding the entry of the hotel they had booked for a week to get a reprieve from the unpleasant noise pollution that plagued their city.

The first event of the three-day celebrations was to begin with a flower ceremony, followed by a Color blast- no idea what that was- and concluding with the wedding and reception. Butter had persuaded his mistress to extend the stay by four more days, stating that she deserved it.

According to the feline, who had obviously never been in love (because he was too young when he was turned into a fur ball), four days were enough to find the forever kind of love his mistress needed.

Well... anyway.

"This does not look good," the feline said; upon checking the time, he sighed. It was already three. The sun shone with all its might, brightening the clear blue sky.

Before now, he had planned on leaving the room at four in the evening. Two hours would have been enough to get to the fountain at the top of the hill visible from where he was perched in the cozy confines of Pepper and his quarters, but he wasn't sure now that a bunch of paparazzi were crowding the entry and possibly the exit of their sanctuary.

Who is responsible for this nightmare...no, daymare? Butter thought, squinting his eyes, trying to catch the signboards that more than a handful of paparazzi- or, as Butter liked to call them, gossip gatherers- and more-than-a-few excited humans were holding up.

'We ❤ SALVADOR ❤!'

"Oh nooooooo!" Butter winced. The man in question, Salvador Hart, aka that jerk, was a millionaire playboy who had made his fortune singing and dancing his way into female and (as per recent evidence) male hearts. Such was his aura that even those with magic found it hard to resist him, as was evident when a wizard had won the Get-to-know-your-Sal-better event.

Why, wasn't it just three days back that Pepper had dragged her feet into her apartment drenched from head to toe, shoulders slumped with a weak smile on her tired face, and said, "Salvador strikes again," in a resigned voice.

Butter had accompanied Pepper to her place of work many times over the years. They were considered somewhat of a team, with him following the problem-causing humans and wizards and getting intel, and Pepper- after verifying the rumors and allegations- taking care of it.

Nowadays, though, Pepper had been leaving him home. Salvador was the reason. The man had been causing problems for the ministry more and more over the past months. It had fallen on Pepper to punish the magic folk, who, despite being warned, opened their hearts to Hart and to patrol the areas the celebrity frequented to stop the witches and wizards from falling prey to his charms.

Sigh.

Butter had realized pretty quickly that even if he accompanied his mistress to her workplace, there was nothing to do but sit and read the newspaper; the ministry got both human and magic ones delivered to their headquarters. Being an avid reader, he had grown more worldwise over the past weeks. That was enough for the familiar to reconsider going to work, ultimately helping him decide to stay home where he could be more productive. Chill...nap...whatever.

"Why, oh why, did this jerk have to come to this of all places, Satan?" he asked, glaring at the peach-marble floors.

He pictured how the week would go if the jerk decided to stay in their hotel and sighed. "My lord,"—he groaned—"sometimes I think you are no better than God. You knew how important this week was for me, yet you sent that jerk here. Thanks for nothing!"

After rambling some more, Butter climbed on the bed. "Don't worry if you wake up and I am not around, my lady." He placed his paw on his mistress's forehead and whispered, "I'll be back soon."

It was not easy for Butter to reach the lush green lawns of The Whistling Greens, their resort, sometimes by dogging and at other times using his extreme cuteness to get past the reporters and frantic fans alike. Yet, the feline counted his blessings, for he knew the feat would have been impossible if he were still human. A magic-less creature.

What little magic Butter had learned over the centuries, he treasured it. Yes, except for Pepper, if he was attached to anything, it was magic.

Chapter word count: 938

Secondary prompt (No. 9) incorporated.