Title: Cat-Sitter
Category: Smallville/The Listener
Genre: Humor
Ship: Chloe Sullivan/Toby Logan
Rating: PG
Prompt: #04 - Purr
Word Count: 1,626
Summary: He hasn't seen her for awhile so he goes looking for her… only to find himself in a rather unusual position.

Cat-Sitter

He doesn't expect a cat.

Finding her place is harder than he thinks it'll be. She's more suspicious than he's ever seen before. She takes a different route home every day and she parks far enough away that nobody would think she lives in the small faded pink apartment building four blocks over. Checking over her shoulder every few minutes, there's little chance anybody is going to sneak up on her.

He hasn't seen her in awhile and she isn't answering his calls. He begins to worry; wonders if some of that trouble she gets into caught up with her. So he heads over to her apartment, the one he finally pinned down a week earlier. Getting inside is harder than he expects; she's got four different locks but he finally gets them all open. Her place is clean, organized; most of the clutter surrounds her desk while the rest of her place is spotless. She's got a few messages on her answering machine; he listens to them and excuses it as wanting to make sure she's all right rather than invading her privacy. Two are from someone named Lois; a woman that rants about somebody named Smallville, interspersed with pouting over how much she misses Chloe. One is from a guy named Clark who's just checking in and wondering if she'll give Lois a call and calm her down some. The other two are hang ups and he wonders if he's reading into it too much when he decides they're bad signs.

There's color everywhere; from the walls to the furniture. She's got books stacked all over and a couple blouses hanging up to dry over her bedroom door. Her place obviously hasn't been ransacked and there's no sign that there was a struggle. He nearly leaves when he suddenly trips over something and hears a strangled meow. Looking down he finds a tiny tabby kitten staring up at him, its fur raised and its teeth bared in an annoyed hiss.

"Sorry…" he says, wincing. Reaching out, he tries to soothe its rankled nerves. He didn't figure her for a cat person… Then again, he really didn't expect her to have any pets. He can't read animal minds, but he thinks the cat's giving him the cold shoulder as it turns around and flicks its tail in his direction before walking toward the food dish.

"Any idea where your owner is?" he wonders uselessly.

The cat's got nothing.

He takes a few more minutes to look around, finger through some of her files in hopes of a lead and gets nowhere. And then he hears something at the door; he's not sure if he should hide or start thinking of excuses. All of a sudden though, he realizes it isn't keys in the lock, it's a crowbar being slid between the wall and the door. Which means this isn't Chloe coming home, this is someone breaking in. He's got two options – confront them and hope they don't use the crowbar on his head or get out and call the cops…

He thinks their pretty bad criminals considering they didn't even check to see if the door was unlocked, which it was after he broke in. But he doesn't bother telling them so; instead, he grabs the small kitten and runs for the bedroom. While they're crashing into her front room, he's slipping through her window and out onto the fire escape. The cat's clawing his neck and meowing like crazy, but he's running down metal stairs and hoping they don't look out and catch him.

When he gets to the ground, he looks back to see if he's been spotted but there's nothing.

Sighing, he looks down at the cat. "Let's get you somewhere safe until I can find your owner, okay?"

The kitten wiggles against his chest.

Ten minutes later, he's not having any luck.

"No! No way!" Oz argues, stomping his foot on the ground like a cranky kid.

"What? You can't just watch him for a few hours?" Toby asks, holding the squirming kitten out.

"Seriously? No! I've got a date! I can't hang around here babysitting a cat!" He frowns, hands on his sides and eyes him wonderingly. "When'd you get a cat anyway?"

He shrugs. "I didn't… I saved it from a burglary gone wrong…"

Oz blinks at him. "You know what? I don't even wanna know. I gotta get ready and you… you and your cat gotta leave. Okay?" With that, he's pushing Toby out there and closing it on him.

Letting out a long breath, Toby stares down at the kitten once more. "I guess you're staying with me then…" He narrowed his eyes. "You're house trained, right?"

He doesn't get an answer.

Two hours later, Toby Logan was shopping for cat food and a litter box. He doesn't know how old the cat is but it was still small, so he figures kitten food is best. He goes with dry instead of soft and he picks name brand just in case. It's not until he gets to the counter that he realizes he has a litter box and no litter; so he has to go back and search the aisles for that too. By the time he gets home, his new roommate has peed on his carpet, used his favorite chair as a scratching post and is meowing at the top of its lungs forlornly.

Rolling his eyes, he closes the door behind him and gets to work. With the litter box ready, the floor newly washed in one specific spot and cat food poured in a bowl, he figures there is nothing more he could do.

Except it is still whining.

Running his hands through his hair roughly, he glares. "What? What do you want?" he asks. "You've got a bathroom, food, a whole apartment to play in…"

The cat stares at him and then suddenly lopes across the carpet and jumps, digging its nails through his jeans and climbing up his leg.

"Ow! Ow! Ow!" he cries, reaching down and plucking the orange ball of insanity from his leg. As it wriggles and meows, he finally drops it to his lap and waits to see what it does, only to watch it climb up his chest and knead his shirt with its paws.

"You want to be pet?" he asks, reaching out hesitantly to run his hand down its back.

It purrs appreciatively, rolling into his hands like putty.

With a relieved sigh, Toby thinks he's got it all figured out now.

It's 2 am when he wakes up to hear it crying out again. This time, the kitten's sitting in his window, meowing at the moon and pawing the glass. Stuffing a pillow over his head, he moans angrily. "SHHH! Pleeeease!"

It doesn't listen.

By morning, he's agitated and tired and he thinks he hates cats. But then it's rubbing against his leg and looking so cute, he forgives it. A half hour later, he has to get to work and he's still got Chloe to track down. He feels bad leaving it at home, but sticking around isn't an option. Geared up and wearing his paramedic's uniform, he's half way out the door when he realizes he smells bad… The cat has peed on his uniform.

How the hell did this happen to him?

With the shirt yanked off and thrown into his laundry basket, he's searching through drawers for a backup and muttering under his breath. There's a knock at the door and he's so pissed he almost tells them to just go away. But he can't; he's not that guy. He can't read any thoughts through the door and when he checks the peephole he doesn't see anyone. He starts to think it's a prank when there's another knock. Using his foot, he pushes the kitten away from him gently; last thing he needs is to be chasing it around his apartment building.

Opening the door, he peeks through, only to have his shoulders fall in dramatic relief.

"Chloe!"

Her eyes widen. "Toby," she replies back sarcastically.

He swings the door open widely. "You're alive! And here!" His brow furrows. "How'd you know where I live?"

She grins. "Same way you know where I live…"

"You followed me?"

With a laugh, she steps inside only to come to an abrupt stop. "Nellie!" she exclaims, suddenly dropping to her knees and gathering the kitten to her chest.

Toby rubs a hand through his hair uncomfortably. "Yeah… Uh, I kinda kidnapped it the other day… There was somebody trying to break into your place—"

"You mean after you already had?" she interrupts, amused.

"Yeah," he admits, half-shrugging. "Hadn't seen you in awhile, you weren't answering my calls… I was worried."

Standing up, she held the kitten close, petting it absently. "So, you broke into my apartment to make sure I was okay and you stole my cat when you thought the bad guys had come knocking?"

He nodded slowly.

"Huh…" When she looks around, she spots the litter box and cat food immediately. "You're not a bad friend to have around in a tough situation, Toby," she tells him, grinning.

"That mean you'll tell me where you disappeared to?" he wonders hopefully.

"No," she says, shaking her head. "But I will call you the next time it happens." As she's walking out the door, she tosses back over her shoulder, "To cat-sit for me, of course."

Laughing, he nods. "Of course," he mutters. "Anything else?"

She grins. "Thank you."

Sighing, he smiles back. "Any time."

It's not until she's gone that he wonders why she was there in the first place and when silence surrounds him, he kinda misses that crazy cat.