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Not today, Fiddleford.
It was around noon in the Gleeful Manor. Of course, Sixie couldn’t actually read time, but she could feel that it was nearly time for food, since she was getting hungry. Will wasn’t in his room; he was probably working in another part of the house. He kitten was curled up on the windowsill. The window was open, but she didn’t feel like jumping out at the moment. Blueberry was sitting in a tree in the garden, whistling a tune. After lunch, she would go play with him, but first she’d wait for Will to come eat with her. He didn’t bring extra that morning, so he should come in any minute. Sixie flicked her tail, slightly impatient. No matter how smart, she was still only a cat, and she had grown used to a schedule. Will was never late, and this waiting wasn’t putting the kitten in the best mood. She buried her nose in her tail, closing her eyes for a quick nap until he would show up. She couldn’t leave the room through the door. It was closed.
Finally, after another twenty minutes or so, the door opened, and the blueish white cat raised her head. But when she saw who entered, she immediately jumped up into a defensive stand. Stanford’s eyes went over to the window almost immediately when she moved. He looked at the kitten for a while, then took a look around the room. A frown appeared on his face and Sixie tilted her head. She had never seen this man without her big friend present. The kitten got agitated, and when Stanford turned to leave the room again, Sixie slipped after him, setting foot in the hallway for the first time. It smelled heavily of Stanford, and she really didn’t like it. She was on her guard as she trailed the hallways, her tail sweeping, and every hair on her body standing up, so she looked like very large fluffball, compared her usual, small, and sleek appearance. Her nose followed the vague but clearly present scent of her big friend. He walked here often while working. Still it wasn’t easy for the kitten to figure out where Will was at the moment.
Perhaps Stanford knew though. Sixie spotted him again and hid under a low table when he passed by. He kept a quick pace, clearly in a bad mood. The kitten peeked out, looking in the direction he had disappeared to, and then followed him. Maybe he knew where her friend was? Sixie silently following the rustling cloak through the manor, downstairs, to the basement. There she hid again, because Stanford had his hand set on the wall right next to a door that gave of a scent of heavy chemicals. The kitten felt fear overtake her, and she curled up really small, but peeked out to see what was going on. Then a voice reached her fine ears. “Fiddleford, testing day is tomorrow, what do you think you are doing.” While human language was lost to Sixie, the tone made a few things very clear. Stanford was mad at something, or someone. She moved her ears a little, finetuning to the muffled answer. It was a voice she had never heard before. “I know that, sir. He wandered in himself, and I finished that thing, so I thought I might as well test it right away. It would have been done by now if he would only stay still.” The kitten let out the softest hiss when she heard the menace in that voice. Stanford didn’t notice it; he was way too focussed on what was going on in the lab.
Then he and Sixie both heard another voice. “Stanford, help!” Will’s voice cracked halfway through, filled with a panic that made the kitten forget her fear. She sprinted out of her hiding place and almost threw herself against the heavy door. A scream came from inside the room, a scream that stopped halfway through. “Be quiet.” The other voice commanded, and Will let out a soft squeak. Stanford looked down at the cat and frowned for a second. Clearly that fluffball of his slave was attached to the demon. Interesting. Perhaps just what Fiddleford deserved in this case too. It was one thing to put Will through pain when it was scheduled, but this was inexcusable. “Fiddleford, I thought I made clear that him delivering packages does not warrant unscheduled experimenting on him. He has work to do and you know it.” The master was in a terrible mood by now. William should have been taking care of lunch an hour ago, and this really put his own schedule at risk. And another thing; Stanford was not known for his patience and understanding in the first place.
With an intense glare on his face, the master made a gesture. The door to the lab flew open and Sixie moved. She was even faster than Stanford, and just flung herself at the man beside the table where her demon friend was tied down on. Fiddleford let out a scream as the white fury suddenly smashed into his chest and started scratching his face. He tried to pull her off of him, but she hooked her nails into his vest and just kept at it. Stanford moved over and removed the fabric from Will’s mouth. “My darling, do you think you can stand?” He asked softly, but Will’s eye was on his cat. “Sixie, stop.” He breathed out, and immediately the kitten let go of the man, and instead resorted to hissing at both humans in the lab. She didn’t like either of them, not even when Stanford removed the restraints the scientist had on the demon. Sixie could smell chemicals on Will and she meowed sadly. “William, how much did he do to you?” The master gently set his hand under the demon’s chin and studied his slave’s face. “I don’t see any cuts yet.” He commented. “He only took my blood again. Thank you.” Will appeared to more scared than hurt right now. “Did you manage to resist him for that long? Impressive.” Stanford leaned in to study the puncture wound in Will’s neck. “No broken needle?” The demon gave a careful smile. “Not this time. You were right on time.”
Sixie meowed louder now, and they both looked down. Fiddleford was cleaning the scratches on his face by the sink on the other side of the lab. “That cat of yours is very attached to you, you know that?” He spoke thoughtfully, and Will nodded slowly. “She always waits for me to eat with her before she goes out to play.” He said softly, but when the master reached out, Sixie just hissed. “Oh, please don’t do that. Master Stanford won’t harm you.” The demon carefully slid off the table and crouched down to pick her up. “I will make lunch. I’m really sorry for making you wait this long.” Will got up with his kitten in his arms, and Stanford nodded. “That sounds like a good idea. I will take care of this incident further, don’t think about it anymore.” He glanced at the scientist, who clearly was very irritated by what had happened to him. “And don’t worry about tomorrow either. I will make sure you will sleep through it. You have earned it.” He then dismissed his slave, who went straight to the kitchen, taking Sixie with him.
The kitten was very pleased with herself, but Will was worried she would face consequences later. Nevertheless, he brought her to the kitchen and made a big bowl of food for her, to make up for the fact she had been waiting so long. “Oh Sixie, you really shouldn’t attack Fiddleford like that. What if he takes revenge on you?” The demon muttered to himself as he prepared lunch for himself and the master. Fiddleford took care of himself; he refused to eat anything Will made for him, so the slave had given up on trying to make him food a long time ago. “And please don’t hiss at Master Stanford. He is strict, but he won’t harm us. Not if we don’t give him a reason to.” The demon added, watching Sixie finish her bowl. Right on time because he was done in the kitchen. He took the food to Stanford’s chambers, but let his kitten back in his room first. It was just safer for her to stay there and just go to the gardens if she wanted a change of environment. Wandering around the manor was just not a smart idea.
When the kitten settled on Will’s bed, Blueberry flew into the room with a trinket in his beak. He did that often, and the demon already had a box filled with small items that the two animals had brought him over time. It was hidden under his bed, and he sometimes took things out to let the two play with them. Today Blueberry had something bigger than usual. A silver pocket watch. Sixie tapped it with her paw, fascinated by the soft ticking noises. Blueberry whistled a tune, playfully pecking at the kitten’s tail. She half-heartedly swatted at him with her thumbed paw. They ended up chasing eachother through the room for a while, until Sixie was getting tired and flopped down on the bed. Blueberry sat next to her, and the kitten curled up, falling asleep after a while. It had been a long day for the young cat. Blueberry flew a few circles around the room, eventually settling on the backrest of the chair in front of the dressing table.
They were still those places when Will entered his room in the evening, with dinner for him and Sixie. He saw Blueberry and smiled, then noticed his kitten deep asleep, right next to something glittering. He frowned, put her food bowl down and picked the pocket watch up. It was quite a nice thing, but he had the feeling he recognized it from somewhere. The demon slave turned it in his hands a couple of times, until his single eye fell on something on the case body. He took a closer look, and realized they were initials. ‘F. H. M.’ Will’s eye went wide. “Fiddleford’s watch.” He mumbled recalling an instance where this same pocket watch was dangling in front of his face while he was tied to a chair. Did the scientist try hypnotism on him? The idea was unsettling, but he didn’t have proof, so William decided it was best not to ponder over it for too long. He wouldn’t bring it to the owner today, he could do that tomorrow when he had to go to the lab anyway. For now, he just carefully sat down on the edge of his bet and reached out to scratch Sixie between her ears. She woke up with a meow, but when she saw Will, she started purring.
Blueberry made a noise, and the demon and his cat looked up. The bird had hopped from the back of the chair to the dressing table and was tweeting at something. Will tilted his head, slightly confused what Blueberry got so agitated about. Then he realized what was going on and laughed a little. Apparently, the mountain bluebird wasn’t used to mirrors, because Blueberry was incredibly angry at his own reflection. Sixie jumped off the bed to eat her food, and Will reminded himself he had to eat too. But while he did so, he kept his eye on the little bird who kept hopping around front of the mirror, tweeting and ruffling his feathers at his own reflection. “You two are my little defenders, aren’t you?” The demon muttered to himself. He was glad Stanford was going to let him sleep through the procedures tomorrow, but it was a shame Will wouldn’t be allowed to distract himself from the pain by staring at the claw marks that littered Fiddleford’s face.