#what would probably be funniest would be if fitz THOUGHT he was getting a tiny dragon because the baby dragon he picked out was small

[synonymroll648]

y’know how some people have service dogs? fitz deserves a service dragon. if alvar gets to have a pet raptor then fitz should get to have a dragon to help with his echoes. (bonus points if he names them after mr. snuggles)

[owlish-peacock36]

The Cat and the Hat -Coffee Shop AU

           A wee chapter for my lovelies! Find all chapters right here!

 “What are yer plans fer the weekend?” I looked to my left at Jamie, steaming milk and wearing Mrs. Fitz’s pretty sunflower apron. I sighed.

           “Geez, you know, I’m all booked up. I’ve got to wash my hair, feed the cat…” I was given a look that I like to call the ‘Stop It, Claire’ look; lips pursed, eyebrows drawn just a little bit, ocean eyes peering at me through strawberry lashes. “All right, all right. But I do have a big midterm to study for this weekend…”

           “Let me help,” Jamie interjected, eyes on the drink he was making.

           “Is that what you would consider an adventurous Friday night?”

“As long as I’m wi’ ye, I dinna really care much what we do.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

           I loved my flat and had since I first saw it. Exposed brick walls, studio style; it was just right for Adso and me. But, it was always a mess. Textbooks were spread all over the coffee table and cat toys littered the floor. It was chaotic, but it was our chaos.

           So, naturally, when I tried to clean a bit before Jamie’s arrival, Adso threw a fit.

           “We have to pick up,” I told him patiently, like a mother talking to her young child. “We’re having company over.” I began placing his toys in the designated bucket that was never used.

           “MEOW!” These weren’t his soft ‘mews’, these were angry and loud as hell.

           “Don’t be a baby, Addy.” He hissed and dug his claws into the small mouse I was about to pick up. “You’re being ridiculous!” I picked up the mouse anyway, Adso still attached.

           “MOWWWW!”

           “I’m getting ready to throw you in the bucket…”

Ding Dong!

           “God. Here, just take it!” I set the mouse (and Adso) back down. He ran off as soon as his paws touched the floor. “Go somewhere, you silly feline… COMING!”

           Jamie stood in the doorway, a bright candle against a gloomy, gray backdrop. A glorious, flaming angel with pizza and beer.

           “Everything a’right in here?” He peered behind me.

           “Yeah. Just the cat.”

           “Oh, aye. To be sure. Cats.” He nodded along to this intellectual observation. I grabbed the pizza box from him.

           “Come on in.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

           This was a milestone in our relationship; his first visit inside my residence. It was odd and perfect at the same time. He lounged lazily on the cream-colored couch, chewing slowly his piece of pizza.

           “Do you need ketchup with that, or…?” I teased. He looked at the slice, contemplating. Well, I thought the question was a joke, anyway.

           “Nay. But ye know what wouldn’t come amiss? Salad dressing. Ranch.”

           “You’re killing me slowly. You know that?”

           “Aye. So, what are we studying this evening?” I glared at the open textbook next to me.

           “Anatomy.”

           “Sounds sexy.”

           “If you say so.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

           “The hip bone’s connected to the…”

           “Jamie, be serious.”

           “I honestly dinna know how to ask ye these questions. I dinna ken what any of it means!” He was looking very seriously at the textbook, and flipping back and forth between pages. He also had a set of index cards in hand, fanned out like, well, a fan.

           “You don’t have to understand it. I do!” I glared at him.

           “Well, I canna help ye!” His voice was muffled by a half empty beer bottle dangling from his lips. For the love of God, don’t drop it…

           “Do ye have any whiskey?”

           “What?” Whiskey? At a time like this?

           “Aye, it would hit the spot, I think. All this information is stressful.”

           “How do you think I feel” I sighed. “Yes, it’s above the sink. Just don’t get drunk.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

           He was drunk. So was I.

           “Y-you…You look like Charlie Chaplin, errr something…” He was wearing a top hat he found in my closet. Where did I get that hat? I could remember at the moment… Jamie placed his forefinger over his lip, mimicking a moustache.

           “What d’ye think? Should I grooowwwww it out?”

           “A Chaplin ‘stache? People with jushht think you’re Hitler.” I could just imagine ginger Jamie with a shoe polish black mustache. And it was the funniest thing in the world.

           “What are ye laughingggg at?” I couldn’t breathe.

           “You…you…with a. With. With a black… MUSTACHE! YOU’D LOOK SO SHHHTUPID!” I forgot how to control the volume of my voice. The magic of whiskey.

           Jamie followed suit, his cackled echoing off the walls.

           “IT WOULDN’T MATCH AT ALL!” He shrieked.

           “You’re drunk!”

           “Y’are too!” He was absolutely right. We were both positively pissed.

           “Jesus! I can’t shhtudy like dis!”

           “Me neither!”

           “You don’t have to!”

           “Aye. I… I’m just saying, ye know, if I did…”

           “We need to lie down.”

           “Ishh that an invitation?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

           I was lying on the couch, Jamie perpendicular to me on the floor.

           “How d’ye feel, Sassenach?”

           “I feel… like I’m going to have many regrets in the morning… I’ll probably sleep the day away. Like a cat.” He barked out a laugh.

           “Speaking of, I’ve yet to meet young Adso…”

           “He’s probably hiding somewhere. He’s not too fond of people. He’s a wuss.”

           “Would ye say he’s a…scaredy cat?” He turned his head and waggled his brows. “Huh? Huh?”

           “Very punny, dear,” I said in the most supportive voice I could muster. “Come on. Let’s find that silly cat.”

           We stumbled about the apartment, half-drunken, barely seeing, calling for Adso. It was getting fairly ridiculous. He was not in any of his usual spaces; under the bed, on the countertop, beside the TV, in the bathtub.

           “I think yer wee cheetie ran away…” Impossible. All doors and windows were shut. Besides, I didn’t want to imagine Adso gone…

           “No, no, no…” I collapsed on the couch. He was never this hard to find. Maybe it was the whiskey, but I felt tears pricking my eyes. Don’t do it, Beauchamp.

The couch dipped beside me, and a warm arm rested on my shoulders.

           “We’ll find him, Claire. He couldna have gone far.”

           “He’s pretty fast…”

           “So am I. I’ll go outside and look.” Jamie stood up, and strode over the coat rack where his jacket was hanging.

           “Let me go with you.” Jamie shrugged on his jacket, and a shocked expression came over his face; eyes wide, eyebrows raised.

           “I dinna think ye’ll have to…” He reached a hand in his pocket, and pulled out what looked like an absurd amount of lint.

           “ADSO!” The tiny animal blinked sleepily at me.

           “Meow?” I ran over to the two of them, and grabbed Adso from Jamie’s hands. Adso howled in surprise.

           “You silly cat! What in the…?” But Adso had jumped from my arms, and started twining his body between Jamie’s legs.

           “What is he doing?” Jamie asked, looking cautiously at Adso.

           “Well, he’s become rather fond of your smell.”

           “So?”

           “So… He likes you! You’ve officially received the ‘Adso Seal of Approval.’”

And, in case you needed a “JAMMF in a sunflower apron’ visual, take a peek at these photo editing skillzzz: