Utz Pretzels Healthy?

Se fossi gatto, MIAO


Title:
If I were a cat, MIAO

Author:




p_will


Beta:






harleen313


&

mrs_toro_or

\u0026lt;3 Characters / pairings: Andy / Joe, Pete, Patrick (guest starring Jon Walker over the phone)
Rating: PG13 Warnings: kitty! Fic , what if?, pseudo-angst, boys roll around on a bed, fluff like WOAH. Seriously, it's a shameful thing. parle Count: +9000 wtf spegnetemi; _; Disclaimer: The last time I checked Andy Hurley was not a cat. Kudos to who captures the title quote: ° D
Notes: Yeah, well '- are obsessed with Andy, are fixed with cats: it was inevitable. Who cares, Kitteh! Andy is a bit 'so * loves * shamelessly Dedication: For the last Easter Bandomville \u0026lt;33 and my cat that always slept while I wrote on the desktop (where it had gone up in nine years. It is the destyno!) \u0026lt;3 Summary: Andy One day he wakes up and has a tail. Not everyone will take it well. It was a morning in late November when they found the cat on a cushion of Andy. He only noticed after a while ', and just because they went to check his room amazed that he had not yet risen, with all that it was time lunch. When Patrick, then leaned into the room, it took a few seconds to realize that the ball of hair that came out was not covered by the head of Andy. First, it was too big. According had meow.
"Pete yelled up the stairs without taking his eyes off the ball of hair that stood up and was stretching. "From what you've got a cat?" "I have a cat," came the reply from downstairs happy, as if that Patrick was a question made perfect sense.
"I'm pretty sure the opposite," he muttered, entering the room and turning on the light. The hairball gurgled something.
"What happens? "Joe appeared behind her peering over the head of Patrick. "Pete has got a cat? Where is Andy? " "
I have not got a cat, "repeated Pete from the kitchen. Lapping then heard a muffled footsteps on the stairs and even Pete got to peek over the head of Joe ... or at least trying to jump stupidly. "But hey, apparently I did it and I forgot."
The cat while sitting on top of the cushion consists of Andy, watching them all carefully. It was a beautiful animal, with long hair, an indeterminate color between brown and tan with streaks of the complex across the white fur and a white patch on part of the nose and chest and had the watchful eye and one ear down. He seemed puzzled. lowers both becoming clearly perplexed when Pete's hopped up to him and pulled adrift in the air. "Kitty! Are you a kitten? "The air rose higher critical light before everything. "Of course you're a kitten, even if you have one so small that-"
"Kitten" fell on the mattress with a breath while Pete is holding his cheek bleeding. "I think you have it offended ..." said Patrick, trying to remain serious in contrast to Joe, who was rolling almost imperceptibly. "This cat is an asshole, "muttered Pete watching the evil creature in question. The creature returned with enthusiasm. "Only Andy could take such a thing. Or Spencer, "he added thoughtfully.
"In this way ... where's Andy?" The cat purred.
"It is not at home?" Joe asked, looking around. "But if the past is gone to bed before us, and we have seen fin'adesso ..."
'Well, should not be released, all his stuff is here. "

" But not at home "Patrick pointed out, with a vein of irritation. He hated when he did repeat all three thousand times. "There is nowhere." The cat came to the edge of the bed and purred. Joe went to give him some flip and ran a hand through his hair. "Sure? It's not that type is in the garage, or run a race ... uhm, no shoes and clothes. Nah, not out. "

Patrick rolled his eyes. "I'm going to call Mixon," he announced out of the room. The cat mewed



yet.

"He's hungry, the bastard?" Pete sat on the corner of the bed far enough away from the beast, aim to stop scratching with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. The scratch was bleeding even more, but in short, was the principle.

"Boh?" Joe sat down between him and the cat, still absently scratching her head as she tried to hear what Patrick, in the hall, Mixon was telling. The cat slipped under his arm and mounted on the legs, starting to give him some paw on her stomach.

Joe looked down, question. The cat looked at him seriously - seriously? It could be a serious animal? - With its bright eyes and purred loudly.

And the head of Joe formulated a thought without sense. "Pete ..." He took the cat in her arms, as away to study it better, then slammed it under the nose of Pete deaf the protests of both. "Pete, do not look familiar?"

Pete jumped at the opportunity to look at Joe as if he were crazy (not often happened for him to do so), but stood still to observe the animal. Scazzi expression aside, it was a simple cat, pointed ears, nose, mustache, the hair. Both

hair, really. It had some strange marks on the face, around the eyes, like ... "Of course, the glasses," she cried, clapping her hands. "Joe, but this is McGonagall!"

Joe decided it was time for Pete to be giving advice to stop reading Iero.

"Matt says that Andy should be here," muttered Patrick re-entering with the phone still in hand. "Since

is not here - and we wanted to make him understand, eh ..."

"Patrick" called him Joe, rising with the cat in her arms. When Patrick turned him stood in front of his face and repeated: "It reminds you of someone?"

"It's clearly McGonagall" Pete chuckled out of bed, full of renewed affection for the creature who had tried to give him a facelift.

Patrick and the cat looked into his eyes, and prayed that Joe was just an impression. He saw Patrick frown, take off your glasses and be deadly serious, while the cat moved slowly the tail. Patrick opened his mouth and remained so for a moment, uncertain. "Joe, non-"

At that point the cat purred again, and the look that passed between Patrick and Joe was the thing that really did worry about Pete. "Um, guys ...?"

"We have found Andy."

*

Gathered around the kitchen table, which had placed the cat was staring at them now as stiff as a statue, except for the tip of the tail which arises from time to time, the kids were facing a problem. "It can not be," Patrick whispered.

"No," agreed Joe.

stared at the cat a little more '. "... But is

" said Pete with a kind of perverse awe.

"No it is not," Patrick snapped. "Andy will be released, it is so difficult to assume?"

"Of course, he went out in secret, with no phone, no wallet, no glasses, and left us with that."

"Maybe he found abandoned out here and , I know, went to buy cat food ... " Patrick sat down and put his face in his hands, taking off his hat. The cat came up and gave him a pat on the arm with the head. Patrick looked stricken. "You're not Andy, you? "No longer surprised to be told with a meow.

"It might be a hallucination. I could have smoked 'Joe suggested hopefully.

"Nah, I can assure you that hurt me before," said Pete. He bent down to scratch the ears of Hemingway who had followed them all the time and was now curious wandering under the table. So far none of these four legs had had to confront, at least. "Yes, but it does not happen that people will turn into a cat!" Patrick looked like a man on the verge of hysterics. A man on the brink of hysteria that makes the scratch card to an attempt to sniff the kitty hat. Oh, were material to the nursing home, everyone.

"Trick, is useless," Pete started to make a scratch card

Patrick to do calm down. "Now there is to understand how to do it back to normal."

They looked at all in the eye with a sudden terror. The tension became restless the cat Andy.

Andy, damn it, it was a cat

and did not know how to cure it, or when he returned Andy.



Or if no one had the courage to say.

"Okay. Okay, "Patrick said, taking a deep breath. The more he seemed to herself as Joe felt the need to sit down. Or vomit. "Now we have to think, like, feed them. "

Pete gave proof of his perfect timing, bursting into laughter. "Oh, Andy is a carnivore

!" ... actually it was fun. Fun in the perverse sense of the word.

Patrick seemed to have a real need for something strong to drink, or to give a head on the table. "Calm down," he murmured, rubbing her temples. "We need someone who knows something of cats." He looked at Pete, who had already got to press buttons like a fury on his sidekick.



* The first thing he did when Jon informed him of being in possession of a cat ("No, we did not kidnapped. I swear! ... It's a long story, okay, then you change? Yes Yes,
have
tail attached. ") Was asking for photos. To - you know - find out what kind it is. The tone is clearly understood that what was really wanted us to print and we can do a little star in front of your eyes. Maybe even show them to Brendon.

He said it was a Norwegian, but the hair was not normal, usually the Norwegians were more patchy and less white streaks. No, really. And all those signs that things were on the legs and muzzle, then?

"I'm sorry to be in Nevada with the kids or I could keep it I" cried the speaker's sidekick Pete.

"Better to be with us, trust me," sighed Patrick.

"How have you called, anyway?" Jon asked cheerfully. Joe and Patrick looked panicked. "I call it Asshole" suppl fortunately Pete, grinning. The cat - Andy turned his back very dramatically.

'Well, you should watch it anyway. " " the doctor? " " ... the vet, "said Jon puzzled. "All right Patrick?"

"Sure, sure. But there is no need, we go-" " You do vaccinate "Jon interrupted him with the tone of one who admits replicas. "You have to have it checked and see if everything is okay. You may have fleas or worms. "

" Oh Lord tell me that I'm not having this conversation, "said Patrick and Pete laughed softly, seemingly exhilarated by the idea that their drummer could have fleas. Or worms, holy God.

"Do you know someone?" Joe Pete and Patrick left to their crisis and marked the address that Jon's dictated. He decided that if they wanted to end this story quickly someone had to take matters in hand, with nerves and she could not afford the luxury of a panic attack. He would have plenty of them when he returned Andy Andy, sure, but for the moment no. For the sanity of all. *

surgery where Jon had sent them in an alley was a bit 'hidden in his neighborhood, in an anonymous-looking building low, the waiting room was papered with drawings of animals on the walls, filled with poster on dogs and old ladies with trap in tow, or small families gathered around the animal ill turn. The kind of people who had not the faintest idea who they were, thank goodness (and JonWalker). The veterinary

was a lady of about forty with a long braid of hair blacks serious air. He made them sit down and immediately began to look bad, not so much for their be three guys dressed as a respectable human cases in the veterinary clinic (the fleece of Pete and Patrick's shoes if the fighting yet their fist-in-an-eye) but the way they were carrying around the poor little creature.

"It's that, you know, we had a ..." Joe mumbled something guiltily and place the ga-Andy, who was holding in her arms on the table.

"You will need a cage," said the woman sternly Andy and settle down before taking his glasses on his nose. "It's a boy, you say? Strange, is very small in size ... " " It's a boy, "said Patrick in a hurry so that Andy is more agitated, seen as already stirred the tail.

"And how old is he?"

"Uh ..."

"I understand, you have found on the street" said softened by checking the ears of the cat with a spotlight, then the teeth and mouth. "How did you call me?"

Joe Pete stamped his foot before he could open his mouth and let Patrick said: "Andy" and he gets the inevitable look puzzled. The veterinary

she shook him a bit 'far and wide until it was deemed satisfied. "He's in great shape and seems to have no parasites. The measured temperature, we make standard vaccines and we're done ' announced cheerfully as he pulled out of a belief in a thermometer and a jar.

Andy, who until then had remained calm and motionless, stared. 'Temperature? Where to? "Patrick asked puzzled.

'Rectal, of course. "

Pete turned to see not to have tears in my eyes from laughing while Patrick paled slowly. Joe feels he has to say something when Andy's claws stuck in the sleeve of his jacket in an attempt to climb to safety. "It's just ..." she looked uncork the jar and sprinkle a little 'inside stuff on the thermometer. "... Necessary?"

The veterinary laughed jovially. "Now with Vaseline will not hear anything! Look, the thermometer is even flexible, "That woman was



bad.

"Come on, you look at it" intervened even Andy and Patrick showing her puffy hair. "He has said he is in perfect shape?"

"Yes, but is a test ..." The lady stopped, uncertain. Andy looked at him, intent on climbing on the arm of Joe, then Joe's pleading eyes, the sad face of Patrick and ... no, not looked at Pete who was useless, but what he saw was enough to make her change. "Okay, okay. Just let me make the shot, "
By Andy
injection was much, much quieter, probably because in his life he had spent so much time under the needles, cat or cat, did not effect any more. The veterinarian tried a couple of times to convince them to let them measure the temperature - "It was so good with the shot, what will this" - but Joe, Patrick and when he had stopped pretending not to laugh, Pete was removed from office.

left the exam room with a brand new health book for "Trohman Andy" (Pete was definitely dead when the veterinary asked Joe's last name because, you know, to be recorded under the surname of their master, and is his, no?), a list of recommendations as long as the new queue by Andy and no idea what to do next.

"Where are we going?" Joe asked from the back seat of the car of Patrick, where Andy was doing playing with a string of plush after all the buffeting recreation believed were a bit '.

"go shopping" Patrick drove away from the stereo Pete's hand and replied, "You'll need cat food, litter and stuff."

"Ok." He took Andy to do a particularly acrobatic somersault then stopped with the noose in the air, turning toward the front seats, stunned. Andy took advantage of the inertia of his enemy to chew the wire. "No wait -" I "need?"

Pete and Patrick's launched two identical looks through the rearview mirror. They were scary, sometimes. "Man, I is Hemmy," said Pete, leaning his elbow on the back of the seat to turn around. "What is good and all, but I'm not going to cancel their upcoming tour with the excuse of" the dog ate my drummer. "

" I am never home, "continued Patrick. "And, honestly? Animals

dirty. No offense, Andy. "

" Then, "Pete grinned, and Joe felt that physically was coming. "It's Andy

Trohman, right? Which by the way sounds much better than Joe Hurley, so we know who will take the surname of when you get married. Although I had always thought the opposite. "

" Wentz, do not induce the creation "threatened Joe, Andy and raising splashed on the face of Pete. The creature did not have to repeat twice and drove in the elbow of the unghielli Pete, who swore by clicking the eye of Patrick, which disbanded in the middle of the curve.

"Stop! Joe, do not use Andy as a teddy bear! ... Or you rise up the case. "

" Stump, "muttered Joe down again on his legs and leaving Andy that resumption playing happily with his sweatshirt. "Next time I'll throw

.

* Pete collapsed on the doorstep of Joe with shortness of breath. "You could at least get something, asshole" gasped, leaning between the pack of crisps, the canned food and bags of sand to pack the cats that had forced him to carry alone.

"Sorry, my hands are busy." Joe had a big grin as he opened the door with his free hand and held Andy, leaning over his shoulder and sniffed the air. Patrick followed him with the stupid and the stupid cat litter and scoop bowls and stupid enough, and Pete had nothing to do but growl and drag in the other stuff.

Andy went smoothly from the shoulder of Joe, stretched, and trotted toward the bottom in the lounge with its tail in the air in question. Joe followed suit with a verse sgrachendo satisfied the arm, which had started to lose sensitivity, and Patrick chuckled.

Pete snorted behind them all the way from the door to the kitchen, totally ignored, dropped the bag of litter in the hallway with a final grunt and threw things on the table to eat. Andy jumped on the table without ceremony and went to smell the gaudy box of cat food.

"Tell that to be a problem?" Asked Pete clinging to the sink for drinking Manco had just finished a marathon. "The meat in jelly, I mean."

"Yes, try to give it some 'tofu." Patrick shook his head as he looked stressed out about looking for a place where the bowls. "It's a cat

- Andy or Andy, do you and take you out with a dead rat in his mouth after less than half an hour. When you return to normal can whip what he wants, but for now: beef, "He pulled out a box from one of the bags and emptied into the larger of the two bowls, then putting it in front of Andy. The cat came and suspiciously sniff the pimp looking ominous, then raised the muzzle with Patrick mustache all limp and crushed.

"Sorry, Palletta" said Pete. Andy stroked his head and purred, giving him a nudge with his nose to the wrist.

"Oooh, you're tame."

"Fuck Stump." Joe made a face at all that hair, and beef on his desk. "You know that I eat us up there, right?"

Patrick shrugged and Pete dedicated a smile all teeth. "Since you're a family now that we eat in two," trilled. "Pete brings that stuff in the bathroom."

Bassist let out a moan and came out with a bowed head from the kitchen, leaving Andy to his jelly Joe and Patrick and the arrangement of supplies.

"It's still surreal," murmured Joe running a hand through his hair.

I do not think that will never stop being surreal, "said Patrick absently, got from reading the back of a box of chicken. «Following shall be in the fridge?"

finished
When everything stops being surreal
thought Joe glancing her drummer - is a fucking her friend who was lapped in his gruel Cat move its desktop while
queue
. Christ. He rubbed his eyes, suddenly tired. "Boh? Leave them there, put them in place later. "

Patrick looked over his glasses with a worried look. "Hey, do not use at all the damned souls now. Rather than deal with him and look up information we can not do much, so it's quiet. "She put her hand on her shoulder squeezing plan. 'Go to sleep, I picked up Pete and go back tomorrow. "

Joe smiled weakly. "Thanks Trick."

Patrick smiled in turn. Joe looked at him out and after a bit 'Pete heard a scream greeting, he said, then stood in silence to listen to the sound of the door was closed and a car that was set in motion. And the lapping of Andy.

He turned to the cat (on his table , ah, dirt) and raised an eyebrow. 'Star Wars marathon? "

Andy licked his mustache and Ronfi his approval.

However, even in the middle of The Phantom Menace Joe could not keep the eyelids open. Blame for all tours to shopping, psychological stress, the consistency is soft and warm Andy caught between his side and back of the sofa - who knows, the fact is that at half past ten Joe had already turned off the TV and was staggered between a yawn and the other towards his room.

But suddenly froze. He turned, and found that Andy followed him with an innocent expression. Was getting used too quickly to be a cat.

"Oh no no no, not even in the slightest," said Joe "You've desecrated my jacket, my table and my favorite pillow, you will not even my bed sheets. Next, you have the whole couch to sleep. Shoo! "She put her hands on her hips, peremptory and determined to gain respect. Andy stared at him impassively.

"God, it's almost more stubborn when he's human," he sighed, leaving him there in the middle of the room and hoping (even though he knew to be a vain hope) not to wake up the next day with a face full of cat.

*

Joe was not drunk. He had not touched his drink, the night before, so absurd that weight to the head had not the slightest sense. He opened his eyes and is reflected in two huge eyes looking amber. Is a fucking hair.

"So-" he snapped, taking a seat to watch strange fur ball perched on the headboard of his bed. Where ...? Oh, right, Andy, who was a cat that lived with him. Most would have preferred the hangover. "Shit, you were walking on the head

?

Andy he just jump down from his position on the pillow of Joe and then to the ground, with a scornful burst of the tail and a line that seemed as much a" prrrmao. He came to the door before turning around and pointing his eyes Joe with yellow to make accusations. Joe pulled outside covered with a whimper, due both to the madness of his time because his alarm clock (the eight. On Sunday!). He staggered back to the middle passage and the cat slipped into the bathroom to regain a semblance of humanity. Andy did the reverse and sat down to look at evil from the corridor. Joe stared at him in turn, hands flat and expression of the elastic pants. "Listen," chanting 'No way that I face with you there. "There was a limit to the things that could assimilate hallucinating before breakfast, and receiving already exceeded its being awakened by the drummer who walked on the face with his new pet. Andy purred and walked away. If he had his eyebrows would have certainly launched a very bad look - but speculation that Joe had not felt able to do without caffeine in the body.

The situation did not improve. After breakfast - with Andy on the table next to him munching his dry food and, more generally, the kitchen's covered with hair, sigh - Pete and Patrick are revealed at his door carrying books and supplies (ciambelle. Joe loved them).

"We stopped in a bookstore," explained Patrick unceremoniously took possession of the table in the living room. Portable and Starbucks coffee and Andy greeted with a scratch in your ears while the computer lit. "Everything okay here?"

Joe nodded absently as he helped Pete to put in place the books on what was left free to table, taking advantage to comb through the titles. Well as a huge encyclopedia veterinary and a tome on all cat breeds humanly known there were books like "The philosophy of the cat" and a troubling amount of children's books. He picked up a book, laughing. "" Puss in Boots "?"

"It may all come in handy." Pete shrugged his shoulders and launched himself on the sofa next to Patrick, now putting his nose in "The cat who loved music." Definitely, he had no idea what it was spending intelligent. Joe picked up from the stack one of the few titles that seemed to be some tangible benefit ("The Magic of cat stories, legends, mysteries) and sat down on a chair with a snort. "I refuse to read something called" DiarioMiao "is clear."

* The research was sadly unsuccessful. The most exciting moments were when they lost half an hour on the site of LOLcats and when the unwary googlaggio of "cat people" by Patrick took them to a Japanese porn site.

Patrick refused to click over and Corinth to the kitchen to make tea.

(Pete saved the link as a favorite.)

*

Staff Five days later the only step forward was that Joe had surrendered to share his table with Andy and his paws dirty. Because I still had four, and still eat meat.
step forward towards the asylum
.

Andy was a surprisingly easy-going cat, according to what little experience as a cat that had Joe. I woke up every day at indecent hours trotting on a point each time more painful than the body, yes, and tried to claw tattoos rifargli the first and only time he had removed from the table, but had trouble combined details: not encircle the bed, the bedding was not as a playground and - Joe had not stopped giving thanks - did not seem willing to mark their territory. A civil society.

A sudden sharp left and a meow announced the collapse of a shelf somewhere in the house. Quasi-civil, in fact. "What was that?" Asked Pete the other end of the phone.

"Guess" Joe muttered, "What is the story of the pack, anyway?"

After half an hour they were all gathered in the living room of Joe - which was starting to look like a shed - to search the huge parcel arrived at Pete's house that morning from Nevada.

Jon Walker, of the wonders of man in general and patron saint of cats in particular, had sent a box full of stuff that "could serve
. The cat, not to you
"along with a letter of recommendation and a number of post-it crumpled by Brendon expressing, with many exclamation marks, the desire to spupazzare soon the adorable pallets.

Andy had inflated the hair when he was told.

emerged out of the box: an indefinite number of mice of rubber business feathered and colored balls, a vanity case which had been stolen from Ryan shampoo containing various kinds and as many combs (no, really, a glove-brush

? Pete suggested candidates who could actually be invited to comb Direct Joe), a bag-carrying dall'agghiacciante fantasy clearly chosen by Brendon, a carpet cat tree shaped red mouse, also chosen by Brendon, a parcel of what they believed all drugs until they saw Andy rotolarcisi above and understood to be catnip.

"I have no place for this stuff," lamented Joe waving sadly two mice. Andy watched him carefully from the back of the sofa.

"He thinks that soon you will no longer" Patrick gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Besides, you can comb it!"

"I'm not going to comb Andy."

"Oh, oh! I can do? " Pete asked with eyes sbrilluccicanti. Andy blew, saving the trouble to Patrick or Joe.

But Joe realized that night that the amount of hair that was spreading around Andy was not sustainable, if only because it no longer had a black shirt that looked, well, 'black. I just hope Andy does not take the bad.

"Come on, here." He sat cross-legged on the sofa with a cushion in the balance on his knees, making a sign to sit on Andy. Andy joined him - quietly, of course -, sniffed the pillow, we sat on it and did some laps on the spot before lying down. Then he looked at Joe and purred questioningly.

Joe was for a second attempt to give the handle of the comb on his head and fainted. Thus, it seemed a thing to do. "Okay, is' still and I do not know, relax?" He muttered, pulling on his glove-brush as if to begin an intervention with an open heart. Took a deep breath - in short, just had to comb Andy. ... blow to the head seemed increasingly attractive.

struggled seriously to start because Andy had felt a need to give its approval to the brush first, and followed Joe's hand to look good for preventing the movement of the guitarist. Joe gave up and let him sniff the accricco what he wanted, taking advantage to do some 'zapping television. When, finally, Andy had stopped harassing the brush, Joe went to work.

chuckled when the first pass across the back Andy automatically lifted its tail, and took it as a good sign not to have yet found with the claws in the face. He watched the cat slowly abandoning his surprised look, brushed after brushing, and closed his eyes. Then he heard a noise that startled him.

Andy. Andy was-he was purring.

Joe opened his mouth to comment because, fuck, purring. It was ... ommioddio. In six days there was no yarn, like a good cat, and now he was snoring in his legs. After a while, 'Andy opened just one eye, and Joe realized that he daze. He closed his mouth and went back to work, Pete would have been able to find the words, but he was not so good.

Andy resumed his zen expression and cast off again at full volume. Possible that an animal so small snore so loud? Maybe he was sick, he thought absently Joe. The smoothed the hair on the back, making it soft and shiny, and had to switch to a side when Andy, with some helping hand, the rolled belly-up. At that point Joe decided it was best to stop so many seem to be mentally and just go ahead.

He ended up getting lost in the movements, in the cadence of each rough caress with the background discrete cast of Andy, who knows what about the forgotten TV channel. ... It was relaxing. As if with the same hair Andy restoring shape to his thoughts. He had already late when he realized he had finished, with a skein of tufts of hair to witness his efforts, Andy fell asleep. He removed the pillow from the legs as gently as possible so as not to wake him, but still felt a grumble eloquent. Shaking his head with a smile left him on the couch, going first to throw away the huge tangle of his dark clothes and then jump on the bed. It was strange that a quiet evening was spent as that was also one of the most absurd of his life.

When before long, he felt the mattress dip imperceptibly sinking under a new weight and legs rhythmically under sweatshirts, it was pretty stoned from sleep does not do is slip a bit 'to the edge of the bed and let him curl up next to Andy.

* "You should do the tree," said Pete in the middle of a game of Halo, led by its all mental connections.

"It takes so little to distract, Wentz," said Joe, biting the inner cheek for the merger. On screen, his soldiers carried out a systematic slaughter of those of Pete, under the TV, Andy was dozing on the console, opening one eye from time just to look bad in the two (if it was not clear why they were disturbing his sleep or if she was envious of their opposable thumbs which allowed it to hold a joystick).

"No, seriously," Pete nodded, seemingly indifferent to annihilation of his troops. "This place is so sad, are a bit 'of, you know ... decorations decorative. And festoons. "

Joe looked a bit 'around while Pete was destroyed in the game and started to load another game. If there was something that her salon was not, in recent weeks, it was sad

: not with all the rats that emerge from every part psychedelic, chopsticks down with mo 'el'orrido ornament of red carpet that Andy loved so much cut up. So mad - sad, alas no longer.

"You know, it's true," Patrick stepped in by lowering the Norwegian book about cats that were out of layout. The fact that they had loosened the rules of the research did not mean that they had surrendered or had given up, only, well, 'a man can only read a certain number of specific books with the word "cat" in the title before you go crazy.

"A thing you would change?"

"Where do you spend the holidays with him in those conditions?" Said Patrick, looking in a way that clearly said
duh
before returning to his reading.

Joe stood up, throwing the controller on the couch and stretching his back. "While you are plotting to take possession of my house, I'm going to get a drink."

"Uh, for me a soda," he shouted after Pete.

Joe waved a hand vaguely disappearing into the kitchen, and a few seconds after Andy got up and followed him yawning. When he came back with a beer and no soda, Andy's still trotting behind, and jumped on the armrest of the couch after that Joe was back sitting. "I do not know, it's weird that I celebrate right now," she confessed, while they pulled back automatically to make room for Andy. The cat walked past him with a small leap and crouched half lying on his leg. Joe scratched him under his throat and continued doubtfully: "And no tree, you should have a sufficient channukkià."

'Health. "

Joe looked up at the sky, stretching his legs on the sofa and pulling a kick Pete in process, both for or to and from the controller in hand, before releasing the game, Andy moved so as not bringing this pinned on him. Andy grumbled in protest but he meekly maneuver, sit back then in the back of the sofa and the side of Joe, with his head over his belly and a foot long as a half hug. "But if you bring the tree, no problem."

Unlock the game and resumed play, but stopped immediately noticed that Pete was also prevented more than usual, in fact, it was just playing. She turned to him and Pete was staring wide-eyed. "What are you doing?" Asked and pointed to Andy.

was a cat, what should he do? Joe did not seem there was nothing wrong with a cat purring and pedaling ... against his belly, okay, that was weird.

"He is making the dough." Even Patrick had begun to stare. He straightened his glasses and put his book on the table between the sofa and armchair. "When I am especially happy to do so starting with the feet. You type a habit that remains when they are puppies. "

Patrick certainly had at least learned something from all those books. Joe smiled, stroking the cat between the ears, Andy made a heartfelt Ronfo other and pressed his foot harder against the mesh. Ouch. But strangely, however, something that made Joe proud.

Until you realized that Pete and Patrick were the

still watching. "What?" He asked uneasily.

Pete put the joystick next to the book by Patrick, looking furtively before returning it to the guitarist. 'Well ... "Patrick started slowly, as if weighing the words. "It's strange to see Andy so submissive."

"Patrick is a cat." "Yes, but Andy is

, and when Andy was never so ... expansive?

" ... do not think I understand where you're going to block. "

" Andy seems very fond of "Pete worked. Joe looked down at the cat-girl in question. Attached? He had not thought so. In short, it was obvious that there was a special relationship between them, but because Joe was still able to operate a can opener and do not starve. She was pandering, as when he was the innocent eyes after the sightseeing tour of his cabinet, pulled out the puppy's face when he wanted to play.

Except that it was only in those cases that went to look for: went against him every time he came in from shopping, from home or the other, and rubbed it on his legs making him stumble down the hall, always dozing next to he, who was on the couch while watching a movie or on top of a stack of sheet music on your desk when he worked at the computer, and every night he would sleep on his bed, but never tried to take possession of the whole mattress - only, wanted to sleep with him.

And Joe did not mind, really. But ...

fond of?

*

The problem was that he was used to it.

He used to have Andy slowly between his feet, to skip the third step of the stairs where Andy fell asleep in the afternoon because the sun was beating us, to sleep on the left side of the bed, leaving the covers raised when Andy wanted to sneak in the night. And he was serious ....

did not think we could get used to. In short, it was not something simply to take note, that was not something that could take place because it was something that happened

. You do not lose a friend and earn a pet home overnight, and not - and do not get used enough!

He realized while decorating the tree they had brought, just over a week since Christmas. Pete was sitting on the ground to accommodate the hooks on the decorations as they went to Joe, assigned to hang them, Andy and under the tree, wrapped in a golden banner he was playing until recently, staring greedily the movement of each ball .

Joe had laughed and thought that would make him quite a picture. Not to make fun of in the future, just to get a picture. Because he was a kitten soft. And in that moment he realized that things had ceased to be strange.

"You okay?"

No, clearly not. But he nodded and Pete had not asked for more, returning to chase a ball Andy, although occasionally she throws worried glances.

Andy was a cat and it was no longer strange. It was worse than before - it was already crazy, but that was settling into madness and was even more crazy. When it was happened? When he who had surrendered? Because this meant: surrender. And Joe could not just give up, no. Why

Andy - the drummer's friend, Andy

- lacked, Christ if he was missing, and one could not take it to get used to.



* One afternoon Andy disappeared. At first Joe did not pay it much thought because, hey, who was having to pull out from the washing machine Andy tre volte? Probabilmente aveva trovato un nuovo, entusiasmante anfratto da esplorare e ora stava cospargendo di pelo tutta la collezione di vinili di Joe o cos’altro. Passata l’ora di cena senza un miagolio, però, Joe si preoccupò un po’.

Setacciò mezza casa prima di accorgersi che la porta della stanza degli strumenti era aperta; doveva essere rimasta così dal giorno prima, visto che di solito la teneva sempre chiusa a chiave.

Entrò silenziosamente e accese la luce, immaginandosi già che scenario di caos apocalittico poteva trovarsi davanti; invece era tutto in ordine, non una cosa a terra o graffi visibili, anche se Andy era davvero lì dentro. Joe rischiò seriamente di fare to some really embarrassing because that was the most tender

that he had seen until then.

There was a battery in a corner, the old battery by Patrick, when he had bought a new one as he had the strength to throw the other, but it did not have space, so Joe had offered to hold it, was always easy, after all. Andy fell asleep on the eardrum, curled in a perfect circle, with the tail dangling off the edge of the drum. There, beside the snare was wrong, a sign that he must have tried to sleep on but he had cancer.

Tender to come from diabetes.

Joe came over and took him gently in arm, smiling at the "mrrr?" annoyed cat just woke up. "You miss, eh?" He muttered, going to sit in front of the battery on a sofa faded half submerged scribbled sheets. He let Andy come down and stretched while blatantly removed a guitar from his perch next to the sofa and casually granted. 'Miss him too. " Andy purred, bringing the nose to the guitar neck, ear and leaned lazily when Joe pinched some rope. Joe laughed and began to play pieces of old songs, to stretch his fingers, yellow eyes of Andy did not spring for a moment vibrating strings, mesmerized.

Joe continued to play a little 'accident a little' rearranging their songs, a little 'working of the steps that had just knocked off, stopping only occasionally to scribble a few notes on a score or drive away the legs of Andy from his guitar (had to have it exchanged for a new play). He stopped in the middle of a staircase, stopping the strings with one hand.

"At this point," said Andy with a sad smile, stretching his arm over the guitar to caress him, "Patrick would say that is too fast, and you do it to piss you turned to say" no, no, it's perfect! "And play over Slayer or something, like, Meshuggah. And usually there are also, but Patrick would shoot us, however, the guitar case he does not understand the jokes. "

Andy tried to bite the strings nell'insperato lull. Joe put away the guitar with a grimace. "Stop harassing my guitar."

picked Andy - who looked beautiful in a melancholy that game away - and went out, turning off the light and remember to close the door. "I was having a serious conversation" scolded "I say to you, beast."

Andy stopped to ignore it and looked into his eyes, noses, ears a bit 'down. Joe opened his mouth to continue, but closed it immediately. Really had a speech prepared to tell the truth. Or rather, did not need a treaty to say that Andy was missing as he could miss playing, or to use a computer.

"Come back soon, okay?" He said simply, and took Andy to sleep without waiting that the other had achieved his place in bed.

*

"Congratulations!" Pete yelled in a crushing embrace Joe damp and cold. "God, Pete" Patrick growled, running to close the door remained open from which came gusts of icy air and a great deal 'of snow. Pete tried to throw to Patrick, a jacket covered with snow and all, but was blocked by a menacing knife for bread. Patrick if sigh returned to the kitchen, leaving Pete in the lobby of Joe laughing and shaking the snow off like a dog. Joe certainly was not what I would clean.

"Where's Andy?" He asked while he hung to drip more clothes as possible.

"beyond" Joe pointed to the living room. "He's sitting in the window this morning."

'Ooh, scanning the horizon melancholy? "

" I think she just taking advantage of the heater, you know. " Pete ran to greet Andy, Patrick and Joe from the kitchen and heard him Andy heard screaming happily as something to blow his lungs. "Who do you say knock it down the tree first? "Patrick said with perhaps a bit 'too much enthusiasm, as he pulled out several dishes never used to be a belief.

"I say that if the perch with the leaves fell apart when we climbed the idiot with the tail, will not fall anymore." But the volume of whatever they were doing was starting to become alarming.

Shortly after Pete came in with a triumphant smile and an exaggerated Andy annoyed by the air waving his tail between his arms. Him down and Andy went off right away, going to rub on the legs of Patrick. "Yes, I know," he said settling the air along with the glasses tested.

Action joint of three mothers (and grandmother of Joe, who had been in stock when he learned that the jujube his grandson finally began a healthy tradition to his house. Even if all of those special guys to work with) had provided more food what was needed to celebrate Christmas Eve, or that it was possible to eat in a month, the table was covered with trays and trays, except for a corner to get us free Andy.

"I hope my mother will never know of this thing," Joe muttered disconsolately when Andy jumped nimbly to his place on the good tablecloth. Pete froze in mid saving a refreshing cool photos, lowering the sidekick guiltily.

*

"May I die," Patrick announced to the world collapsing on the couch, a couple of hours and many, many courses later, by which time the only thing left to wash dishes at the table was that they would not hurt to be ignored until 'New Year.

Pete jumped to his side. "Trickster, you can not leave before the New Year!" He made one of his smiles that showed too many teeth and put your feet on the legs of Patrick, moving cheerfully points in only socks. Patrick let out a moan and dropped his hat over his face.

"Say that we would be all four?" Joe put a couple of beers on hand and sat on the chair free automatically raising his arm to pass Andy and have it sit on his lap.

"Joe, we

in four."

"You understand, Pete."

"I hope so," said Patrick "Eating with a feather on the table is not an experience I want to repeat."

"We should do it more often, though. To stay at home. It's fun! "

" Absolutely perfect, can you wash the dishes you? "Joe suggested cheerfully. Received in response to a blown kiss and a middle finger loud and clear.

"I" Pete exclaimed, jumping up as if he had not brushed half of Christmas cakes Illinois. "I'm in charge of gifts! Wait here! "A sleepy grunt assured him that no, comfortable, go ahead, will not run away anywhere. He returned in a flash with a red envelope and green ribbons and cards from which popped. "Before one for Andy. Trick, open you "gave him a small package flat and thin.

"Oh, fuck you Pete."

They turned to Joe, who was staring at them in disbelief. Pete dropped the second set, frowning. "Sorry?"

"What ..." she gestured in the direction of the hands of Patrick, where in a blaze of colored paper did show them the first gift: a collar. A black collar with a silver plate shone weakly to the rhythm of the lights of the tree. She looked a gift from Patrick and then to Pete, as if there could not believe it. "What should it be?"

Pete left by the package and sat on the edge of the couch, tense. "It's a gift." He exchanged glances with Patrick. "For Andy."

"What were you thinking? Is this a joke? "

" I think you're taking thee for no reason. "

Joe laughed, loud and no fun. "Shit, you've got a collar to Andy."

"Hi, maybe is a little 'no see, but did you notice, eh accidentally, which is a cat?" she said acidly. Patrick meanwhile rose off pieces of wrapping paper, she laid her collar and straightened his glasses, looking at Joe in silence, lips pressed into a hard line.

"But in fact, what you want it," as he moved to get up, but Andy have dozed off on his legs restrained him. "To you has never cared about that

Andy had become a cat, it was just funny that it was a cat

."

"Stop rebuked him, Pete. "Stop you to behave as if you do not give a damn!"

"You," Patrick whispered, and both Pete and Joe were silent. Patrick was passing by Joe apart from his eyes, and had retained the tone when he was seriously angry. "Connect your brain to your mouth when you speak or is it optional?

Joe imperceptibly drew back in his chair, always uncomfortable to discuss with Patrick. "I am not the one who cares if Andy is so-"

"What
cares?
"he snapped. "Do you know who that is ill-treated by Mixon calls for two weeks? You know who's spent sleepless nights to reorganize the work because a member of the group is missing? To bear the screams of a manager every night? "

" Non-"

" While You play Dr Dolittle, was
Pete
he called the mother of Andy and could hear sobbing on the phone, without being able to give a single fucking

decent reason why his son would not have spent the holidays with her, "Joe was

still, ashen, his hands wrapped around the armrests of the chair. "You never said anything. You were doing-as if everything were normal, it would be right? "

Patrick ran his hands over his eyes, huffing. "What we should do, pray? Repent? There was nothing useful to do - nothing

- and certainly did not need a fucking feeling sorry for himself. "He stood up, without looking at Joe. "If I had pulled head out of the ass you would understand you too. "

And Joe really did not know how to respond, what to say and Patrick to stop him back to apologize or take a punch, because he had no idea just

-

"We're having fun," said Pete flatly, getting up too. "Usually six insightful, but today you really made the fool." The squeezed his shoulder and followed Patrick, greeted with a rueful smile. For a few moments in the house was heard only footsteps, words exchanged in a low voice, and then click the lock to close. Then silence. Joe jumped up, knocking Andy to the ground. Ignored while mewing offended, just wanted to-wanted to break something. And he did not want to admit that every word of Patrick, and Pete, was the truth. overturned the bottle resting on the floor with grim satisfaction, the beer that was spreading on the floor and under furniture staining the fabric of the couch, and ran to her room, tried to change, taking off his shirt, but only managed to squeeze a t -shirt and sent everything to hell. His hands trembled.

It was not anger. Indeed, it was anger, but ... could not explain it. He was ashamed of his behavior, he had believed to be the only one to feel bad ignoring his friends and what they were passing their star, but at the same time knew I was right. It was right that he was worse than the others, because he was the one who had a month to live with that damn cat, seeing every morning that Andy had become. Every lousy morning, every moment of the day, powerless.

He lay in bed, breathing heavily and staring at the ceiling in the dark. After he did not know how long he felt a familiar sinking the weight down comforter, step by step ever nearer. The white and brown nose emerged over the duvet, watching with eyes that were not clear, they were not expressive, they were not Andy, even though they might resemble. Swung around the other side, with his back to the cat. Neither Pete nor

Patrick put up with all this. The sound of the cat that slipped under the covers made him burn the throat, without reason, without reason, as the warmth of that little body touched his back prevented him from breathing.

did not have the same effect on Patrick and Pete. He was worse, he suffered more and had every reason to complain. They could not tell him anything.

Because - and it was a thought just sketched while Joe slipped into sleep, overcome by the warmth, or fatigue, or who walked the trails wet cheeks - they were not the ones in love with Andy, fuck.

* The first things that Joe felt, waking, were zero desire to pull a finger out the blankets and something of damp on the face.

The first thing it was no surprise: he had made a big mess, the night before. He had to find a way to apologize, even though at this time Patrick had certainly done let off some steam and was ready to forgive him with a kick in the shins or an offer of coffee. However, he was an idiot and had to apologize. The second, he was just want to complain because, damn it, he thought he had made it clear early on that, although he could stand it if you walk in the face, did not want to wake up to lapped. "You hairy thing 'mumbled, waving an arm to ward off the dark the cat. But what I encountered was the skin.

froze, my breath stuck in his throat and his arm stuck in midair. There was no fur, skin was

. And there was a body pressed against his side, a warm body with arms and legs and chest, attached to his own. opened his eyes.

"Joe," said Andy, his lips away from his forehead to just smile at him, with shining eyes and hair impossible. "And ..." The voice was choked, trembling. Andy was human again. Andy Andy was back and was kissing his chin and he had never seen anything more beautiful than the face idiot

nothing. He swallowed and tried again: "... Andy?"

Andy pressed his forehead against hers, pressing his shoulder with his hand on which she was not holding. "I'm back," she whispered, even his, voice, hoarse as rusted. And then he raised his eyes to those of Joe, no longer yellow, with no more subtle than the pupil, and looked as if he had read in or as if Joe

should read into him. And maybe they did seriously.

The next moment Joe was shaking as if it were a matter of life or death, after having reversed positions, kissing him with enough strength to be able to disappear into the mattress. It was not refined or sensual, or something so nice to limber up the spine - was frantic and needy and was

better.

"Andy," he stammered, pressing her face against his cheek nonsense, fingers sunk in his hair. "Andy Andy Andy Andy Andy

."

"There are, I'm here," he murmured, while he spent his hands on his back again and again, fighting a moment and forget what the jersey after his arms and then to touch the neck in a simple need to feel

. "God, quant'ho hated that you can not respond, tap-'

" I felt? Do you remember? "

" Yes. I do not know how, but I was in me, and I understood everything, but I was ... "she stopped, came off a little and made him lift his head. "
Joe.
"She took his face in his hands and kissed him seriously, when it melts really the backbone and making fireworks explode in my chest.

"Do not ever try" Joe gasped once separated, biting his neck. Everything was fine now. He realized that that was how things should be, so that would be due more to go, he realized that he had never been happier in his life. And Andy was, like, naked.

Mai. State. More. Felice. Andy the limelight with a boost, pushing it against pillows and blankets and sheets in disarray slipped a bit 'wherever it out - God, how he had missed those tattoos? That smooth skin, too pale or too colorful? That body, the hands that helped him take off his shirt, his hair always struggled to keep in place, her lips red and swollen with kisses? Okay, this last detail was quite new, but Joe loved him already.

smiled at pressing all moan that tore at him, shoulders chest basin, and began to stroke his back while Andy kissed his throat. He followed every muscle, overlapping imaginary drawings in ink drawings, each time that Andy just scratching the brushed his tongue and making it instead sighed with every movement of the legs between her thighs. The

was just walking with his hands the light dorsal vertebra cataloging each and every sound that Andy choked in his mouth when the door swung open.

"Trohman, you're a jerk, but if you're sick-I can not let ' Andy and Joe froze and broke away in a hurry. Patrick was also blocked with one finger raised and the frowning face, but did not seem ready to do anything, neither fast nor easy. In addition to having an aneurysm, of course.

Pete came up from behind Patrick. "Oh, look, Andy is back to normal," said with a grin. Patrick recovered and had time to close the door without a pillow in the face of Pete. "You could tell! Andy was cured! Or
were not presentable!
screamed, his voice is so acute that even the door helped a lot. "It's happened now," shouted Joe, piqued, and it was while Andy laughed merrily: "Hello Patrick! Pete! "

" Hello Andy, "said Pete equally cheerfully. "But are you doing in my house?," Joe we tried to maintain a semblance of sanity in the conversation, we really felt. But it was difficult with a hand of Andy sull'elastico pants.

"We came here to make you a Christmas card and clear after last night, ugly bitch, but then we heard noises and we thought you might Essert and hanged - you're not going, right?! "

" No, "

" Hurley, you were better off with his tail! " " Boys, dress and outputs that Patrick is coming to a stroke. "Patrick mumbled something but outraged Pete silenced him. "By the way, welcome back Andy!"

waited to be sure that they had risen from behind the door then looked. "I do not want to dress," said Andy with a smile.

"You never want to dress" Joe rolled his eyes and kissed him, and at first was a little 'uncomfortable because he was smiling like crazy but obviously the problem in a nutshell.

Joe broke away with a grimace. "Do you know of cat food."

"But no." Andy looked at him in a way that would have been more convincing if he had glasses. "I thought you liked."

Joe buried his nose in the hollow between neck and shoulder and Andy laughed. Really, never been happier.



* "... so."

Andy, dressed and combed, and spectacles, he looked at Pete sitting in front of him cross your hands on the table, as if waiting. "... So?"

"So an explanation, "He shook his head. "Boh? I do not know why I became a cat - you were not the ones taken from the research? - And not even know how I returned to normal, "he said. In fact there was some hypothesis, but it was very vague ....

"So was the magic wand of Joe, I understand."

all stared at him.

"It is not cured with sex?" He asked, uncertain.

"Except we did not do anything - Pete, you idiot, what has happened after ."

"..."

"You're bad," Patrick uttered with eyes wide open. Thwart the "But Trick-"and focused his full attention on anything else that was not Pete. "I do not care to know what happened, I just want to celebrate by drinking until I will erase all the memories from first grade on," he said calmly. Then he looked at Andy and Joe with a smile. "I'm glad you guys. For everything. "

Andy smiled in return, looking down embarrassed, while Joe was trying to apologize for anything and was hampered by Pete. "Patrick, a hypothesis was perfectly legal,"

"You and your sites you have nothing legitimate! I had not deleted the history? "

" But Trick is not the fault of Internet '

"It

this issue,"

Joe patted his knee with the leg of Andy. "Hey" he said softly, not to interrupt the picturesque fight. "Welcome back indeed."

Perhaps there was a reason for all this history. Maybe we needed something crazy to understand certain things to one another and to decide, maybe it was just an evil master plan, maybe they will not know why Andy had changed or what brought her back to his true appearance, if a planetary conjunction or Christmas or something more ... human. However, it was over pretty well. No?

While Pete and Patrick still debating whether disconnect or no connection to the home of Pete, Joe ran his hand behind his head and leaned in to kiss Andy.

was pretty sure that Andy was doing the cast.







Background notes:

- I do not know how it works in America, but my cat is actually registered under the surname of the family as a "health card", so please stop looking at me that way and giggle
- there are all the books mentioned. Pure
DiarioMiao u_u - the channukkià is the Jewish candelabrum eight arms (also 'hannukiah')