"I... thought... you were supposed to give cats milk?"

Marcus sighed, looking at me with such an utter sense of disappointment. "Get me that box, big boy, and I'll teach you the ways of cat feeding." He dropped the container that had previously held the milk in the sink.

It took me a moment to find a box that would work, and I hoped that the cat was still hanging around by the time we got out there. I hated the idea of disappointing Marcus even more. 

"I wish I had some blankets or something to put in the bottom so she'll be comfy," he said. 

"You go ahead and check on it," I said. "I'll be right back."

There was a stockpile of old event t-shirts in a back stock room that all of the employees had free reign on. I figured they'd be better put to use as a cat bed than laying around in a closet for a few more years. By the time I made it back outside, he had that creature crawled up on top of him, kneading into his tightly clad thighs, arching its back, its throat rumbling like a diesel engine. I bent down cautiously to arrange the shirts in the box in a fluffy pile. The cat glared balefully at me, as if it knew I was to blame for giving him milk. I looked over at the remaining containers. At least it'd liked the other stuff.

I crouched down across from Marcus. "So what's wrong with milk?"

"They can't process it," he said, scratching the critter behind its ears and earning an extra deep purr. "When it doesn't digest, it can ferment in their stomachs and end up making them sick."

Great. Now I felt like a super asshole. "I didn't—"

"A lot of people don't." Marcus looked up and his face softened at my apparent misery. "But your heart was in the right place."

"The path to hell is paved with good intentions," I muttered.

"Well, I'm sure your hell will be very cute and cuddly. Just piled full of stuffed animals, not real animals. Dogs and cats go to heaven, you know." 

I smiled, his cheer lifting my spirits back up. Besides, I was finally able to talk to him again. That made up for a lot. "I thought cats were of the devil."

Marcus mimed clapping his hands over the cat's ears. "Hush your mouth!" He leaned down to the cat and cooed. "He didn't mean it, princess kitty cat, he just doesn't know any better."

"How do you know she's a girl?" I asked, leaning down to see if there were visible signs of the animal's sex.

Marcus shrugged. "I don't. It's not like I'm going to flip her over on to her back on our first meeting! But it's not like I could call him or her an it."

I squinted my eyes in confusion. "You... can't?"

Marcus looked at me with such an over-exaggerated but serious look of betrayal, it was hard not to laugh. "Killian Daye, you're not telling me you're one of those people that refers to cats and dogs as 'it's?"

"Um..."

"Would you call Sally an 'it'?"

"Well, no, but I know she's a girl. If I didn't know, though? What's the problem?"

Marcus shook his head in dismay, open and closing his mouth in a state of feigned wordlessness. "I just don't know how we can be friends," he said in a wounded tone. 

"I got her t-shirts as blankets... that counts for something, right?"

Marcus made a show of pondering it. "I suppose I can take it into consideration... as long as you never refer to her as 'it' again."

He looked so freaking cute cuddling that raggedy cat, so offended on her behalf. I just wanted to pull them both into my lap and cuddle. But a twinge in my knee reminded me where we were: in the back parking lot of a club, in the dark, while I was technically still on duty.

I cleared my throat. "Hey, listen... I need to head back inside, but... are you planning on sticking around for a while?"

Marcus frowned down at the cat with a sigh. "I don't suppose the bus drivers would be too happy about me bringing her on the bus, would they."

I shrugged. It had been a long time since I had ridden the bus, but yeah, back then they would have thrown a shit fit. "If you want, we can close her up in the back storage room. It's full of those t-shirts and some shelves. Not much in there. We can give her food and water, and put a sign on the room so no one opens it. No one goes in there much; we generally just forget about it. And then maybe you can dance for a while, and I could give you a ride home?"

I’d have to tell Joe he needed to find another ride, but he wouldn’t have a problem with that.

Marcus's smile was bright and fleeting, and then his masks slid back into place. Not as quickly as before, which was something. "Yeah, that sounds cool." 

I helped Marcus up. The cat didn't want to let him go, so I grabbed the box and led the way. We got the cat all settled in and closed the door behind us. I got Marcus set up with some markers and he very carefully lettered: Giant Attack Squirrel: DANGER—which we then taped to the door. 

Before we pushed through the door into the dark of the club, I felt the need to reassure myself he'd be waiting when I got off work. "So later tonight?"

He bumped my elbow with his. "Yeah, later tonight, big boy."

My laughter was lost in the bass, but my smile stayed the rest of the night.