Re: The Cat: Matt & Cat
Cat slipped away to the Capital when she got that itch beneath her skin, the one that called for smog and traffic and up all night. She was considering buying a place out there, an apartment, one high up in a skyscraper and bound to feed her occasional need for a fix. But, surprisingly, she liked Repose. Not the woods and its obscurity, but the bar, the people. She liked the familiar faces, and she liked the way they shuffled in after work and laid their troubles on the counter. Surprisingly, she liked that she knew their names, their stories, their kids, their troubles. It wasn't something she'd ever expected herself to take to, and it was more the kind of thing she associated with Eddie's social nature. But Cat? Cat liked it.
"I know you're a lot older than me. You could have the decency to look it," she said, that grin of hers lush and as warming as the booze she was pouring into a cup.
He was surprisingly easy to talk to, you know, when he wasn't trying to drag her across the bar to kill her. Oh, she knew he was dangerous. He was the equivalent of a very lethal, and very-barely trained dog. But he wasn't a threat to anyone in the bar, she thought. As long as no one came in that triggered him somehow. And, ah, those triggers. That was part of the problem, wasn't it? She missed Grant when she thought about things like that, but Grant had been sent away, and they were still here.
Cat eyed that kid for a few seconds. Normally? She kicked out anyone she even suspected of brandishing a fake ID. After all, this bar? Was the favorite hangout of the town's cops, firefighters and politicians, and she couldn't risk losing her license. But she let it go this once, and if push came to shove? She'd blame Matt. Anyway, the kid was pale around the gills, and she figured if there was ever a night to make an exception? It was tonight. Next time? She'd send him off to the other two bars.
"How many drinks are we talking?" she asked, not missing a beat.