"Darned cat!" For PicFic Tuesday 10/6

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

“Mi-owwwww”

“Here kitty kitty kitty.”

“Purrrrt.”

“Come on you stupid cat, why would you want to sit out on a flagpole?”

Napoleon Solo tried not to snarl. He kept his voice calm while he was trying to lure the long haired furball back to the roof; the lights of the city twinkling beneath it.

“Mi-owowowowow.” It made a noise that sounded like a bleating sheep. Very strange.

“Sorry I don’t speak cat.” That suddenly gave Napoleon an idea. “Maybe you don’t understand English.”

Given the beast was Illya’s, it made sense he might speak Russian to it.”

“Idi syuda kotenka. Khoroshiy kotenok_here kitty. Good kitty.”

Finally it sat up; that was at least something positive...well until two seconds later it curled up again, staring back at the American.

Napoleon sat back on his haunches, scratching his head.

“How the hell are you going to do this?” He asked himself. He could bring down enemy agents, destroy satraps and save the world but he couldn’t rescue one damned cat?”

He slowly rose, pushing back that stray forelock of hair that always seemed to go astray when he was annoyed.

If something were to happen to his cat, Illya might never forgive him. How could he have screwed up so badly? All he was supposed to do was to come downstairs and feed it as well as make sure it had enough water...which he did. He never saw the cat until today, but everyday the food bowl was empty so he knew it was eating.

He was sort of relieved not to have an encounter with the beast as it just didn’t seem to like him, nor he it.

Illya had been off on assignment in London, a last minute thing; he’s asked his partner who was on light duty and out of the field to take care of his cat.

Mrs. Manetti, with whom Kuryakin would usually leave the cat for those times he was away longer than a day or two, was out of town. So the job fell to Solo.

Why the hell couldn’t Illya have asked Wanda, or one of the other ladies, was beyond him. They always more than willing to help when Napoleon Solo needed a favor. He huffed his exasperation. What was the point?

He didn’t really want to take on the responsibility but given he lived in the same building as his partner and rarely did Illya ask anything of him; how could he refuse?

Kuryakin said it would do Solo good to bond with his cat Nina, as he knew his partner was edgy when it came to being around her...one of the rare occasions that Napoleon had such a problem when it came to the female of a species.

And now he was in trouble. Napoleon knew he’d made a big mistake, not realizing the door to Illya’s apartment hadn’t closed tightly. He guessed the cat knew this and somehow finessed it open.

That was the only thing that made sense. As soon as Napoleon saw the door open, he ran to it and spotted the hind end of a cat running towards the stairs leading to the next floor.

He cursed himself, and after securing the apartment door, he ran after it, following it as it headed up the next flight of stairs that led to the roof. Of course the door was open.

As he stepped to the roof Napoleon secured it behind him, making sure the cat couldn’t escape, but now it had disappeared.

His eyes were suddenly drawn to a sight that made him swallow hard. The creature was curled up out on a flagpole?

And now here he was in a Mexican standoff with a damn cat.

“Come on Nina, I don’t have all night?” He tried sweet talking her.

He had a date with a hot airline stewardess, and Italian one from Naples; she was a Sophia Loren look alike. Va-Va-Va-Voom! That was something he wasn’t going to miss because of a cat.

His communicator chirped, distracting him from his dilemma.

“Solo here.”

“Napoleon how is my cat?”

Oh boy, he thought to himself. “Ummm we’re just hanging out. Where are you?”

“Oh good. I was hoping you would eventually do that. I am on my way home as we speak. I finished up the assignment a bit early, got back to New York and did a quick debrief. Tell my Nina I will be home soon.

“Good for you tovarisch. So I’ll see you tomorrow then, I have a hot date...well you know.” He told his partner that hoping he’d have the cat inside before Illy arrived, but supposed that was wishful thinking.

“You never change my friend. Remember to wear a raincoat,” Kuryakin snickered.

“It’s not supposed to...oh, raincoat, yes I will remember. Solo out.”

Napoleon put away his communicator. Looking at Nina with desperation.

“Come on cat, your Illya is coming home.”

“Mi-owwwwww. Purrrrt.".

Saying his partner’s name seemed to get an enthusiastic reaction.

“Hey would you like some fish? Some nice tasty salmon? Come on inside and make me happy man. Illya too.”

This time the cat made some sort of squeaking sound, almost like it was singing.

“You are crazy for the Russian aren’t you?”

“Mi-owwwwwwwww.”

Napoleon was getting nowhere fast and Kuryakin would be here any minute.

All he could do now was leave the door to the roof locked and let the cat be. He’d explain to Illya what had happened. It was a simple accident and it was safe...as long as it didn’t fall. Yikes?

“Okay cat, you’re on your own, just don’t go anywhere please?” Napoleon looked at his watch.

He headed downstairs knowing he’d have to meet his partner and give him the bad news; at least the cat was unhurt? She just got loose, it was an accident, and he was sure she must have done it to Illya now and then, so no big deal. Right?

Napoleon returned to Kuryakin’s apartment and waited for what seemed like an eternity. He finally heard the door being unlocked and Illya come inside.

“Napoleon?”

“Here, tovarisch,” Solo stepped forward.

Illya dropped his suitcase on the floor with a sigh.

“It is good to be home...so how was my Nina? I am guessing you two finally make peace?”

“Yeah about that…”

Suddenly a shadowy bit of fur appeared, leaping into Illya’s arms, giving a loud meow.

“Nina my sweet did you miss me?”

He was met with possibly the loudest purring he’d ever heard from his beautiful black cat.

“Wait...Nina? Then who?” Napoleon gasped.

“Who what? Illya asked as he scratched his cat on the back of her neck.

“Nothing, nothing. Gee I have to run; I have that date.”

“Yes, I know. Thank you for taking care of Nina my friend, I appreciate it.’

“No problem. Ciao! “ Solo was out the door in a flash, heading up stairs to the roof to unlock the door.  He opened it and the big furball instantly ran past him, heading downstairs; its tail raised high.

For some reason Illya opened his door and spotted the cat.

“Ah I see you have made friends with Rocky. He is Mrs. Manetti’s cat and he likes to wander. Vieni dentro Rocky. Tempo per mangiare, sì_Come on in Rocky. Time to eat, yes?”

“Oh so he understands Italian?”

“Yes and English as well. He comes and goes as he pleases. He stops by when he is hungry then goes off to the roof or wanders the neighborhood. The locals all know him so he is never without a good meal. I should have warned you about him.”

Yes, I ummm, well I have to get going,” Napoleon gave a sheepish wave as he headed down to the street, reaffirming to himself that he still didn’t like cats.

Comments

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Yes I was aware of the scene in the Bridge of Lions. BUT in fan lore Napoleon doesn't seems to have good luck with felines, and in my stories as well...which are not purely canon.

It all started back when Illya first got his cat Nina, and Napoleon was spending the night on Illya's couch (because his apartment was being painted) Nina the kitten latched onto his arm when he was asleep...as kittens sometimes do. Anyone having dealt with a kitten and their razor-like claws understands the pain.

Since then he and Nina have given each other a wide birth. So I have a plausible reason within my story lines for Solo not liking cats. Maybe someday Napoleon will meet a cat that he likes, and likes him in return... until then, Napoleon will not get along with cats in my stories, in spite of what you felt necessary to point out.

Not a review of the story, but more like an uncalled for 'correction.'

[carabele.livejournal.com]

I have deleted the comment, since it seems to upset you. However, it was not intended as any sort of "correction" (that's why the "winky" face). Just an observation since I've come across this idea as Napoleon not getting on with cats in a lot of fanfic and it intrigues me how it got started.

We all have our own takes on things about the characters. Heck, in my universe Napoleon is very much a diplomatic brat from a privileged upbringing, something a lot of writers disagree with.

It's just intriguing to contemplate how certain tropes started.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Yes I did find it upsetting, as I felt like you were chastising me for going against canon. No review of the story itself, just a correction. That sort of hurt. I guess the winky face wasn't enough to make it feel light hearted.

I explained why I used it in my stories and where it started for me. Being a well groomed and well dressed man, I sort of envisioned Napoleon not being happy around cats because of their 'shedding.' Some cats rub you on the ankles, jump into a lap or shoulder unexpected etc...and leave behind their furry calling card. So him not being fond of cats made sense to me for that reason as well.

His dislike of cats in fan lore? I have no idea where the concept started either.

Thanks you, I appreciate the dialogue.