Raising Isla | ENGLOT AU

Chapter 1: The Start of it All

It started with a cat.

It was not Calypso's cat, though she had no particular dislike for the creatures she'd found, they tended to have a dislike towards her. And yet, here one was, speckles of ruffled black and ginger sat outside her window sill on the frozen, steel grating of the fire escape. Staring at her.

Where did you come from?

She wouldn't have let it inside - after all, it probably belonged to someone, and she didn't imagine they'd be too happy for her to be commandeering their cat, and there was the added sin that she was certain pets weren't even allowed in the building. But it was cold outside. The blizzard had thrown the city into white, the very same reason she'd opted to work from home rather than in the office. It was technically the weekend, but Calypso had either forgotten or didn't care - Mae had always cautioned the younger lawyer's tendency to get lost in a case. It was just a shame that going after heartless pricks didn't pay any better.

The cat must have meowed, though Calypso could not hear it, the sound falling muffled against the misted glass - before the little thing shifted on its front legs. Paws padding against the ground. A gesture that, even to Calypso, was understood as friendly.

So she'd sighed, walked over, and slid open the window.

The noise of purring became apparent the moment she he'd hitched it open. The cat happily making its way into the warmth of the room, greeting Calypso's shin with its forehead before trotting over to the heater and unceremoniously curling itself up underneath it.

She closed the window again before any more flecks of snow could make themselves welcome in her apartment too.

Buried into the stacks of files and paperwork sprawled over her desk, she'd almost forgotten she even had a houseguest napping on the floor of her living room. Until she heard the knocking on the door.

"Hi," A woman greeted her, slightly breathless. Her eyes flickering over her for a moment before she seemed to compose herself. "I don't suppose you've seen a cat around at all?"

Her tone almost sounded defeated as if she'd already received for too many indignant "no's" to that question, yet at the same time feisty and ready to brush off any illegal pet-keeping allegations at a moment's notice. She almost smiled.

"A cat?" She repeated back, her mind somehow dancing around the answer that should have been obvious. Distracted, as her gaze wandered over the way her eyes seem to light up almost mocha when the glow of the hallway caught over them just right, and the miles of dark, wavy hair that appeared to have been tied up in a rush, but that did nothing at all to prevent her looking dazzlingly beautiful. She was, she noted, also considerably taller than she was. But most people were.

"Yes, a cat." She folded her arms, her forehead scrunched. And it became immediately obvious to Calypso that her staring wasn't nearly as subtle as sh'd been hoping.

"Actually, yeah." She cleared her throat, nodding. "Fluffy little calico? She invited herself in and has been curled up next to my heater for hours."

She gestured over her shoulder into the apartment, but the dark-haired woman made no move to step through despite being visible relieved by her answer. Which, she reminded herself, was perfectly understandable. Cats were, even at the best of times, not the most sensible creatures, and walking defenseless into a strange man's home seemed to be a habit her owner did not share.

"I'll go get her." She offered.

The woman gaped for a second as if about to protest. Before her jaw shut again and Calypso disappeared around the corner.

...

She had expected some sort of resistance - that her hands would be left in tatters of red claw marks at her attempt to pick up the ball of fur from where she'd been so happily dozing. Waking cats had never gone particularly well for her in the past. But perhaps there was a reason Nudee's half-feral little thing had been given the name Scorpion in the first place.