Monty stumbled into his apartment. The operation had taken longer than expected, and the paperwork had taken even longer. He shrugged off his jacket and tried to throw it onto the couch. It hit the floor. He shrugged; he'd take care of it tomorrow. After he slept.
He made it to his room already half-asleep and flopped onto the bed, not bothering to change, or even pull back the covers. He merely pulled up the blanket he kept on the end of his bed so that it covered him. The second his head hit the pillow; he was out.
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Monty startled awake to clatter and a bang. Instinctively he reached for his weapon he kept under his pillow (a trick he'd learned courtesy of Uncle Jason). Tiredness forgotten by adrenaline, he crept slowly towards the kitchen where the noise had originated.
He threw himself into the kitchen, weapon raised, and promptly lowered it.
Sitting in his kitchen sink was a tiny brown and white tabby kitten, head tilted. Monty blinked, rubbing at his eyes. He glanced at the clock: 3:12am. "I must be really tired," he muttered. He pinched his arm but quickly winced and released the appendage. "Ow! Definitely not dreaming then."
Unsure of what to do, he pulled his phone out of his pocket (he thought he had put it on his nightstand, but apparently not) and took a couple pictures. He opened one of the social media apps he used and opened the contact to his sister.
He sent her a picture of the kitten, captioned: Thought someone was breaking into my apartment at 3am. It was a cat. I don't own a cat.
Almost immediately he got a response: Jenny: Guess it was a cat-burglar XD. Monty rolled his eyes, texting his reply. Hilarious.
He pocketed his phone, staring into the blue-green eyes of his visitor. "So, cat burglar huh?" The kitten merely tipped its head at him again. Monty debated his next move. The kitten didn't look like it had anything wrong with it. There were no collars or tags (did cats have tags?), but the kitten (he? She?) seemed pretty clean.
Monty knew he oughta take it to a shelter, where it would have food and water and... whatever else cats needed. He cast a longing look back at his room. He was so tired...
Finally he made his decision, pulling an old towel out from under his kitchen sink. The kitten jumped out of the sink and onto the counter, watching Monty curiously. Monty found the other item he was looking for - a shoe box - under his kitchen table. How it got there he didn't know. Oh well.
He arranged the towel in the shoebox and put it on the counter, near the kitten. "Alright little fella. It's late. I'm exhausted. You can stay here tonight, and we'll figure out what to do with you tomorrow, alright?" The kitten just blinked.
Monty nodded once, unsure of what else to do. Curious, he held his hand out, holding it near the kitten's face. The little tabby inspected his hand before rubbing his hand rather forcefully. Monty chuckled, scratching the kitten behind its ears. "Alright Little Guy, goodnight."
He stumbled his way back to his bedroom, taking the time to pull the sheets back this time as he crawled into bed. He flopped back onto his stomach, putting his arms under his pillow. He barely closed his eyes before he opened them again.
Monty turned his head slightly to see the kitten nestling into the quilt that covered his back. "...I made you a bed in the kitchen." His only response was a large yawn and a forceful headbutt to the nose. Monty sighed. "Fine," he said through a yawn of his own. "Make yourself comfortable."
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"Hey Grandpa!" "Monty! It's good to hear your voice. You missed our weekly phone call last night; I was worried."
Monty shook his head, despite the fact that his grandfather couldn't see it over the phone. "I'm fine. One of our ops went longer than we'd thought, and then paperwork..." "Ah." "So how are you and Uncle Jason?" "Oh, we're fine. It's been rather slow at Triple J's and Whit's End lately. Bad weather, you know how it is."
The young agent nodded, pulling his dinner out of the microwave (Leftovers, Mom. Not microwave dinners). "Yeah, I know." "So how are you?" Monty laughed. "Pretty good. A little tired, but that's fine." John Whittaker chuckled on the other end of the line. "Anything interesting happen lately?" Whit asked. Monty glanced at the floor where his new roommate was scarfing down some tuna and grinned. "As a matter of fact..."
A/N: Credits to my bestie for the title! She's awesome :) I'll have an update for the other stories soon! Love you guys!