Joshua Bam Bam Brown: Collection of Short Alaskan Bush People Fan Fics

Cat Lady

You stood at the end of the street, waving both arms wildly over your head and yelling at the top of your voice. "Hey, buttface! Over here!"

When your friend turned around, your mouth dropped open and your eyes nearly fell out of your head. It wasn't your friend at all. You could see the stranger frowning at you over the top of his dark sunglasses. He had the same long reddish-brown hair as your friend Brian, but the face, framed by the sunglasses and full beard definitely belonged to someone else.

"Oh, snap." You spun around in embarrassment and dove into the first doorway, shoving open the door as the overhead bell jangled loudly. Stomping quickly toward the back of the store, you looked around for something to hide behind. Spying a tall greeting card rack, you hunkered down behind it and pulled your knit cap low over your eyes.

Sure enough, there was the guy who wasn't Brian, stalking past the glass front of the small store, his frown still creasing deep lines in his forehead.

"Keep walking...keep walking..." You whispered desperately and plucked a card from the rack to hide your face. "Why can't I be normal?" You groaned.

Your friend Brian didn't care when you yelled like a crazy person or jumped on his back while you were walking together down the street. He was used to you and actually loved being with you. He was your best friend and the only person to never tell you that you were too weird for this world and that you would die a lonely spinster with 100 cats. You heard that a lot from other people. Too often, in your opinion. But never from Brian. He accepted you for who you were and you loved him for it.

Crouching lower, going into full on stealth mode, you held the greeting card tightly in your fist and moved slowly toward the front of the store.

"Miss? Are you planning to buy that card?" The store clerk spoke up nervously from behind the glass counter.

"Shhhhh!!!!!" You whisper-screamed at her and flapped your free hand in her direction. "Huuuuusssshhhh!"

The man who wasn't Brian was almost past the window when you noticed a rustic looking cross tattoo on one bulging bicep.

"Sweeeet." You lifted an eyebrow appreciatively.

You were a sucker for men with tattoos and an even bigger sucker for men with muscles. But right then, your main concern was that he kept on walking and you wouldn't have to deal with explaining why you called a total stranger 'buttface'. Because from the side, this man was definitely not a buttface. His beard couldn't hide his strong jaw and his high cheekbones were smooth and pink from – yikes! He suddenly turned and looked directly at you and even though his eyes were still hidden by his sunglasses, one thing was clear. He was really mad!

Stumbling back a step, your eyes wide, you looked toward the entrance, gauging if you could get to it and fling yourself out and begin running in the opposite direction before he made it back to the door. But your split-second hesitation gave him all the time he needed. Pointing a long finger at you through the window, the man who wasn't Brian froze you in place with his fierce look.

But you weren't about to give up. Scanning the store frantically, you looked for a back door or a back office. There had to be one somewhere. There always was. Your gaze fell on the poor clerk who was still staring at you and you knew she was wondering if it was time to call the police. Your mind whirled and you stared at her wildly with your eyes so huge and round that the startled clerk disappeared into the back room so fast you might have thought she fell through a trap door.

"Coward." You mumbled under your breath as you heard the jingling of the bell above the door.

The man who wasn't Brian stepped purposefully through the door and you turned slowly to face him.

"I don't appreciate being called buttface." He spoke through gritted teeth.

"What names do you like to be called?" You blurted and emitted a high pitched giggle that made the man cock his head to one side like a baffled puppy as he stared you down.

You pinched at your lips with your fingers to try and get control of yourself, fully understanding now why everyone said you would likely die single with a house full of cats.

The man who wasn't Brian reached up and slowly removed his sunglasses, revealing deep blue eyes that were surprisingly gentle. You watched as he switched out his sunglasses for a pair of rimless eyeglasses and just as slowly he began to smile. You sucked in a breath at the sweetness of that smile. His anger was gone and he observed you with a mixture of bemusement and desire. You recognized that look immediately because it matched your own.

You let him take the crumpled greeting card out of your hand and the tingle when he touched your fingers was bright and hot. You forced yourself to breathe deeply and evenly as you watched him place the card on the counter, followed by a few dollar bills.

"No way they can sell that now." He said with a half-smile and walked back over to stand in front of you.

You were almost ok. He wasn't mad anymore and even though your heart was pounding like a drum, you were sure you could keep your silly comments to yourself until you could apologize to him. Sighing heavily, you gave him the most apologetic look you could muster and opened your mouth to speak. But before you could say anything, the man who wasn't Brian held up a finger.

"Maybe you shouldn't talk." He grinned.

Jamming your hands on your hips, you huffed as if you were truly angry. But your smile gave you away. In that moment you began to hope that this guy might become something special to you. The faint meowing of a hundred abandoned cats almost brought a tear to your eye. Almost.

So when the guy who wasn't Brian turned and started walking away from you, the stab of disappointment jabbed at your chest. He had been kind but was obviously ready to be on his way. Two steps toward the door, however, he turned and gave you a nod, then jerked his head toward the door.

"Hungry?"

You nodded and let yourself smile and hope.

"Well come on, then. My mom always taught me to be nice to people who were..." He raised an eyebrow at you. "Different."

"Pffft." You made a rude sound with your lips and realized you weren't helping your case at all.

"Tell me your name." You demanded, but softly.

"Bam."

"Yeah, right." You thrust out your chin angrily. "If you're not going to tell me your real name maybe I should keep calling you butt-"

"Stop it." Bam rolled his eyes and pulled out his driver's license.

"Can I call you Joshua?" You said and after reading all his names on the license you handed the card back to him. You pushed your knit cap back from your forehead and began to follow him out the door.

"If my choices are Joshua or buttface?" His blue eyes pierced yours again. "Then yes. Calling me Joshua would thrill me to no end."

The two of you walked side by side down the busy sidewalk. Joshua was sweet and charming and you tried your best to act normal and you only cackled and punched him in the arm once on the way to the restaurant. When his only response was to grin and shake his head, you began to think your friends were wrong after all. Maybe a crazy girl and a normal guy might be a good match after all. Maybe you weren't destined to become the crazy cat lady. The evening was starting out perfectly. Well...almost.

Just as the two of you stepped into the warmth of the small café, you heard your friend Brian yell at you from the other side of the room,
"Hi, Buttface!"