Sal, Butter and Pepper || ONC2024

Chapter 4: A chance Encounter

Butter's spine arched up. With his face pressed against a rock-hard chest, he couldn't think straight...or at all. He was suffocating.

"Oh, I recognize you now." The man smothering Butter and responsible for giving him a heavy dose of anxiety was none other than Brandon Bolt. "You are Pepper's cat. What was your name again?"

"Butter, you imbecile, my name is Butter. You stink, by the way. Unhand me right now, Sir," said the kitten as politely as he could before realizing the blunder he had committed; he snapped his mouth shut.

Oh, nooooooo! What have I done!?

Apprehension filled the kitten's every paw. Yes, it was true that Felicity had told Brandon she was a witch, but the man had just taken the news in jest. When the former had tried to explain that she was being serious, the latter had presumed that she was a human practicing Wicca. Brandon didn't have a problem with that, so Felicity had gotten away without telling him the whole truth. Technically, she should have come clear, but it was clear enough for the higher-ups, who, in Butter's opinion, just wanted The Bolt's in their fold. Now that Butter thought about it, the pervert was pretty open-minded.

But that was not the point now, was it? Butter had unwisely opened his wise mouth, and instead of the standard meow that he (by default) offered the humans, words had poured out of him. What if Brandon freaked out, called off the wedding, and kicked everyone, including Pepper, out? In which case, there would be nothing to make his mistress stay in Polpom. And Butter needed her to stay put, at least till her birthday, the day after tomorrow.

"Meeeeeow," Butter did the best kitten impression he could, hoping Brandon was too excited or too drunk to notice he had heard an animal speak.

The man, almost a foot taller than Pepper, with a thick stock of vibrant red hair and blue eyes, swayed on the spot before laughing like a maniac. "The cat spoke. Makes sense... if FiFi's a witch, why can't the cat talk?"

Brandon swayed again and narrowed his eyes till they resembled the crescent moon. "Oh, yes, I remember now. It was Butter!" he drawled, eyes glinting like he had cracked The Da Vinci Code.

Butter cocked his now slightly-less-restrained head. Glad that the man was too drunk to believe what he had witnessed, he purred and meowed again.

"What are you doing out here? Did you like the room your gorgeous mistress was assigned?" Brandon scratched the top of Butter's head.

As Brandon rambled on and on about how his room was just down the line- a suit, third one to the left on the fourth floor- and how Butter should persuade his mistress to visit him, preferably late at night since she was all by herself in this big bad world, the kitten grew more and more apprehensive and restive. With the sick pervert holding him in his iron-like grip, Butter was sure he would not make it to the summit of Mount Balsh by 5.00 pm.

But just when Butter was about to lose all hope, someone interrupted Brandon's drunken rambling.

"Excuse me, but I think you are holding something of mine, mister..." a calm, mellow voice said, tapping the groom's shoulder.

Brandon turned around; his grip on Butter slackened a little as he raised one of his hands to shield his eyes, "I am Brandon Bolt. This is my resort."

"Oh, a pleasure, Mr. Bolt." As the new arrival extended his hand towards the latter, Butter tried to catch a glimpse of his supposed master's face, but sunlight hit his eyes, blinding him for a moment. "I am Salvador Hart. Perhaps you have heard of me."

What!?

Brandon nodded his head fervently. "Mr. Hart, what a pleasant surprise. Felicity is a fan, and so is my mother."