A/N: AU, inspired by a tumblr prompt. I'm borrowing Wylie's cat from WeBuiltThePyramids (she came up with the headcanon that he has this cat, but I helped name him). Happy Wega Wednesday! (It's still Wednesday where I live, for another couple hours, so I'm counting it.)


It was quiet. Too quiet.

Wylie strained his ears to listen, but didn't hear hear the soft clinking of an ID tag, or purrs or meows, or the bell in that toy mouse he had quickly regretted buying. He also didn't hear the ripping and tearing of fabric, which was good, but he'd long ago learned that silence with this cat meant trouble.

"Gary?" He called out, walking through his small apartment. "Come on out, buddy." The food bowl in the kitchen that Wylie had filled not five minutes ago was already empty, but his cat was nowhere to be seen. It didn't take long to check his favorite hiding places, but they were all empty. Wylie even tried pouring a bit more food into Gary's bowl, as the sound normally brought him running no matter what he had been previously doing. No Gary.

Wylie was on the verge of panicking when he finally noticed that his back sliding door wasn't closed all the way – he must have not closed it properly when he took out the trash earlier.

"Crap."

He stepped outside onto the patio, wondering where to start. Grid search? But he was only one person, and –

Meow

Wylie's head jerked to the side – it sounded like it had come from his right, but he didn't see any cats, Gary or otherwise. There was, however, an open window beside his neighbor's patio door. Just a small, waist-high fence separated his patio from the next, and when he heard another familiar meow he reluctantly climbed over.

He raised his hand to knock on the back door before freezing – was it weird to knock at the patio door? Should he go inside and around and knock at the front door? Was it even Gary he was hearing? He didn't remember seeing a cat when his new neighbor moved in last week, but that didn't rule out the possibility…

But time was not on his side. If that was Gary inside, he needed to get him back before he could cause any damage. Making up his mind, he knocked quickly three times on the door, and waited.

And waited.

After a minute he knocked again – still no answer. Was she not home? Wylie glanced behind him to make sure no one else was around, then leaned over to get a closer look through her open window. Sure enough, there was Gary, sitting in the middle of her living room. The lights were all off in the rooms that Wylie could see.

"Gary!" Wylie hissed. "Get out of there!"

Gary tilted his head, looking at him, then turned around and walked calmly around the corner and down the hallway.

Wylie stood back up and braced himself. Desperate times called for desperate measures. If he waited for his neighbor to get home, who knew what Gary would do in the meantime. After one last look around to make sure no one was watching him, Wylie ducked down and climbed through the window.

"Gary!" he called again, quickly rounding the corner where he'd seen his cat last. "I swear if you get me in trouble for this…" Wylie could see the headline already: FBI Agent Arrested for Breaking and Entering. This was a bad idea. This was a really bad idea.

But he was already in, so no point in turning around now without Gary.

The apartment layout was the same as his. He passed by the first door, even though it was ajar, knowing it was her bedroom, and he really didn't want to invade that much privacy if he could avoid it. Instead he headed for the bathroom that was just past it, and held his breath as he slowly pushed the door open.

There was a flash of fur by his feet, and Wylie scooped down just in time to grab him.

"Gotcha!" Wylie said triumphantly. Gary squirmed for a few seconds more before calming and admitting defeat. Wylie strode back to the living room, and was contemplating the best way to climb back out the window while holding Gary when he heard the front door unlock.

"Oh, crap crap crap," he whispered. But there was nothing he could do, and within moments the front door was swinging open.

"I can explain!" Wylie blurted out, as his neighbor's eyes widened and her right hand jerked to grab at something at her side – but her fingers closed around air.

"Please don't call the cops," Wylie continued, assuming she was reaching for her phone. "I live next door – my cat got out and climbed through your open window. And he has this terrible habit of just destroying furniture and peeing on everything – I could show you the stuff he's ripped up at my place – I came after him to stop him from making a mess here." Her eyes were narrowing as she listened, and Wylie found himself continuing, "I'm not a robber, I swear. Or a cat burglar, despite the cat. Though this – this probably isn't the best time for jokes."

And then, to Wylie's utter shock, she smiled.

Or maybe it was more of a smirk. It was gone too quickly for him to tell for sure, but either way, he thought it was a good sign.

At the very least, she finally stepped inside her apartment, though she stayed near the open door.

"And calling the landlord to let her know your cat was in my apartment would have been too easy?" she asks, her face back to neutral.

"Oh. I didn't think of that."

She rolled her eyes. "Obviously."

Wylie shifted his weight, wondering if he should tell her was FBI. Maybe it would help give him more credibility, help her to believe him. That or he'd just be giving her a head start on who to tell on him to. But he didn't have his badge on him, and even he wouldn't believe a rambling stranger in his apartment who claimed to be FBI…

While he was preoccupied with these thoughts, Gary seized the opportunity to jump from his arms and run towards his neighbor.

"Gary, no!" Wylie said sternly, taking a step forward after him. But Gary stopped and sat right at his neighbor's feet, looking up at her and purring loudly.

She looked down at the car in surprise, then slowly crouched down to scratch him behind the ears. Wylie stood still and watched from a few feet away.

"What happened to his other leg?" she, gesturing towards where the missing front limb would normally be.

Wylie shrugged.

"The workers at the shelter didn't know, just said he was brought in like that. I thought it gave him character –he seemed spunkier than the other cats there."

"You thought he was spunky, and you named him Gary?" Her eyebrows were raised, and the smirk he'd glimpsed earlier was back.

"I uh – I was looking online for names, and I found this article that said the name Gary was becoming extinct – fewer people are using it. And…" he shrugged. "Somehow it fit."

"Well, Gary," she said, carefully picking him up and standing, "How about you try to stay in your own apartment for now on, okay?"

"I really, really am sorry about this," Wylie said, stepping forward so she could hand over Gary. "I promise this will never happen again."

"You're lucky I've seen you enough in passing to recognize you. Because if I got home to find someone I didn't recognize at all standing in my apartment – let's just say he wouldn't be standing for much longer."

Wylie gulped. Though she was small, for some reason he saw no reason to doubt her words.

"Well we'll just head back home now," he said, stepping around her and through the front door. "Once again – very, very sorry."

"Maybe you can make it up to me sometime," she said with a shrug, and oh Wylie hoped that was true, because he'd been wanting to try to talk to her since she moved in, and had been positive he'd royally screwed up any chance he might have the moment she came home. "Bye Gary," she said, giving the cat one last scratch on the head. "And I guess I'll see you around…" she looked up and trailed off.

"Oh, Wylie. Sorry – Jason. Jason Wylie – I'm used to going by my last name at work."

"Well then I'll see you around, Jason. Just not in my apartment anymore, got it?" Her tone was light, but Wylie could still detect a warning underneath.

"Got it, believe me." He paused, collecting his nerves before continuing. "Since you know both of our names now, could I get yours?"

"It's Michelle," she said. "Nice to meet you, neighbor."

"Nice to meet you too."