for Rat

[silenttrainbaby]

It isn't as if Grey has found a sense of peace in the two days since he's seen Rat. He hasn't found the solution, an answer to his existential crisis. But he remembers where Rat lives. And, carrying the cat once again, he finds his way to the building and to the door and he taps his fingers against it. There were flowers on the side of the walk as he'd come here and he plucked them and they are already starting to wilt, even as the cat tries to eat them. Silly cat.

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[silenttrainbaby]

Does that mean Grey was bold? The idea urges a quirking of his mouth.

In the sling, the cat yawns.

He'll have his cast off in four more weeks. An eternity. The edges of the plaster are dirty, even if his fingers, twined with Rat's are moderately clean.

[plaguedrat]

Coughing, Rat turns back to the book with his free hand. "And then he says...My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss...That's the part I was reading when you knocked."

[silenttrainbaby]

Something gets fizzy in Grey's belly as his eyes move between Rat's, to his mouth, and back to his eyes. Without thinking of it, really, he catches his own lower lip between his teeth.

[plaguedrat]

"Then they realize that they're the heirs of two rival families," Rat explains, continuing through the pages. "Who hate each other, to the point of death."

Flipping backward, he goes to the prologue. "Here..." He says.

" Two households, both alike in dignity, in fair Verona, where we lay our scene, from ancient grudge break to new mutiny, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean...From forth the fatal loins of these two foes a pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life; whose misadventured piteous overthrows Do with their death bury their parents' strife."

[silenttrainbaby]

So, they die, the boy and the girl in love. They die and their families no longer fight?

That seems terribly sad. Grey frowns.

[plaguedrat]

"It's not a love story, not really," he admits. "It's a tragedy, born of impulse and quick love...but the poetry. God it's beautiful."

[silenttrainbaby]

Life is a tragedy, isn't it? Even Grey knows that, has lived that. But he does know enough that small moments of bliss can be found, can be savored.

Like this one.

He leans forward, impulsive, and kisses Rat's cheek.

[plaguedrat]

Rat doesn't react exactly. He stands there, blinking and surprised. What prompted that?

[silenttrainbaby]

A sorry, perhaps. Or a thank you. Or an expression of how glad Grey is that Rat is his friend.

The cat, of course, objects to all the movment, meowing before settling again.

Grey watches Rat's face. Was that all right, what he did?

[plaguedrat]

It's the meowing that finally pulls him from is trance and Rat turns to the collected books. "What about a comedy instead. With a happy ending."

[silenttrainbaby]

Or more about the Hobbits and Dwarves. He nods and shrugs at the same time.

The kiss, Grey knows, doesn't have to mean anything. On the train, it rarely did.

[plaguedrat]

Rat looks back at the shelf, pausing. It's strange to him, he realization that he wants to make someone happy.

"You pick."

[silenttrainbaby]

Cast under the cat, Grey comes over, finger sliding along the spines again and he draws out The Hobbit, handing over with a small smile.

[plaguedrat]

Rat nods, not quite realizing that he's smiling back. "Hm...We had just left the trolls, hadn't we?"

[silenttrainbaby]

A nod: the Trolls, yes, threatening to eat the Dwarves, all of them.

Grey looks around, pulling Rat toward a bigger chair so that they can sit together.

[plaguedrat]

Rat smiles and flips to that chapter, settling down on he couch with room for Grey and the cat as he begins to read again in a sure, clear voice.

[silenttrainbaby]

The Trolls are turned to stone and everyone escapes intact. Bilbo Baggins is proving to be a fine addition to the party.

Eventually, too, the cat creeps out of the sling, wriggling to sit on both Rat and Grey's lap, curled into a tight ball.

[plaguedrat]

Rat blinks, surprised by the cat's affection. Even more surprised when his mouse scuttles down his arm to get a better look at the dozing cat.

"You seem to enjoy this?"

[silenttrainbaby]

Who does, the cat or Grey? They both do, most likely.

Of course, the moment the mouse moves, the cat raises his head and hisses. Though he doesn't move. It's a battle of turf, it seems.

Grey doesn't want the cat to kill the mouse for a number of reasons; he reaches out, petting between the cat's ears. Easy.

[plaguedrat]

This time, the mouse stays there, staring boldly at the cat even as Rat makes the gesture to scoop him back up if things get out of hand. He spent a long time getting these mice together. He doesn't want that work to go to waste.

"Easy, cat," he warms.

[silenttrainbaby]

Even as the mouse stares, the cat continues to hiss, though oddly, the intensity of the hissing seems to start to fade. Almost as if the cat is getting bored with hissing at the house. Stay there, mouse, and maybe things will be all right.

Grey watches this, almost amused.

[plaguedrat]

"A mouse and a cat. They're fated never to trust one another...but these two had better make peace," Rat says, ever so slightly warning the cat with tap to the nose.

[silenttrainbaby]

Blinking in surprise at being booped on the nose so indignantly, the cat bats (claws in) at Rat's finger. A little respect, please!

Petting down his back, Grey smiles again. In that moment, the cat once again reminds him of Edgar.

Haughty look in place, the cat lays down his head again. As long as the mouse kept in his own space, they'd be fine, he seems to say.

[plaguedrat]

Rat smirks a little, the faintest suggestion of a smile, but accepting the cat's demand and smoothing things over with a vigorous scratch to the ears.

It's comfortable, he thinks, curling up on his sofa with Grey and the cat and mouse. It's strange to consider.

[silenttrainbaby]

It is comfortable. Comfortable enough that Grey eventually shifts, moving to face Rat, his cast hugged to his chest, knees pulled up (the cat shifting with a meow), eyelids pleasantly heavy. It doesn't occur to him that he should leave, that he might be overstaying his welcome.