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Bucky heard the scuffle and the trash cans falling so he kicked his feet out of bed and walked over to his window to look down the fire escape.
He mostly expected it to be teenagers acting like teenagers, but instead there was a mangy raccoon staring down something out of a Bucky's view.
Bucky grabbed the metal tray he ate dinners on when he was sitting in bed, opened his window, and slid out. With one well-aimed toss, he let the tray fly and the raccoon scampered back down the alleyway.
Bucky looked the other direction just as something scurried past him. He looked around and then realized his mistake.
He'd left his window open.
Whatever the raccoon had been fighting was now inside Bucky’s apartment, specifically inside his room.
He peered back in the window a little nervously.
"Uh, Little Creature?" he tried saying without going in. "That's my room. Wouldn't you rather come on outside? I ran the raccoon off."
He glanced around again and then looked right down where he would be stepping to make sure that spot was clear before very carefully climbing back inside. He left the window open. With any luck, he could chase the creature back out the open window.
He eyed his bed, but nothing could get beneath there. His bed had storage compartments beneath it and they were nearly flush to the floor so he doubted anything could manage to squeeze itself under there, especially not in a hurry.
He looked beneath his desk, but the only thing under there were the bedroom shoes he'd toed off while sitting there last night.
Then he spotted his fatal error. His door may have been shut to the rest of the apartment, but the door to his closet was cracked open just enough to let any number of wild animals slip right in there.
Bucky reached for the door and heard another quick scuffle so he slammed it closed and then checked the lock as if the thing may suddenly open the door back and come after him.
He felt a little foolish, but in the name of not having to get a series of rabies shots, Bucky looked up the number for the Wildlife Removal Service.
—⍟-⍟-⍟—
"Oh boy," Officer Sam Wilson noted as he pushed aside Bucky’s favourite Louis Vuitton winter coat and spotted the intruder. "This little guy looks rough."
Bucky tried to see over Sam's shoulder without getting too close.
Then Sam's voice raised in pitch, but lowered in volume as he spoke very softly, "Hey there kitty, kitty. I'm not gonna hurt you. Why don't you come on out here?"
Bucky wasn't sure he heard the man right. He'd only had a cat in his closet?
"Are you telling me it's not another raccoon or a squirrel or anything?"
Sam laughed lightly. "It's just one frightened feline who has really expensive taste in jackets."
Bucky covered his face. "I used to work for them. I don't usually buy that kind of stuff. I just had to that one time."
"Well, the cat likes it. He's thinking about staying."
About that time, Bucky heard a low, angry, guttural sound come from his closet
"See?" Sam defended. "He doesn't wanna move."
Then Bucky heard Sam lower his voice some more and reach behind him and close the closet door. Bucky stood just outside of it and waited.
Then there was another quick scuffle, a very distinct hiss, and the sound of Sam closing the door to the pet carrier he had brought into the closet with him.
—⍟-⍟-⍟—
"Goodbye," Bucky told the cat as he peered into the carrier. "Thank you for vacating my closet. Stay away from raccoons."
Sam just laughed to himself. "We'll look him over and if he's feral, he'll be neutered and sent to a farm upstate. Good mousers and stuff for farmers. And if he's fit to house, he'll go to the humane society here to be adopted so you did the right thing calling about him. You're right to never try to touch them yourself, but I'll take care of him from here."
Bucky glanced back at the cat who made a low growling noise at him in return.
"Goodbye," the told the cat with a quick wave before he looked at Sam Wilson again. "Thanks."
—⍟-⍟-⍟—
Bucky couldn't sleep that night. All he could think about was the cat from his closet.
The next night he crashed, but only from exhaustion because he woke right back up thinking about the cat.
"I'd name him Alpine," he told his best friend Yelena over the phone the day after that. "I could have a cat. We'd be buddies."
And the day after that, Bucky finally broke down and called Wildlife Removal Services again.
"A few days ago, Officer Wilson came and got a stray, grey cat out of my closet. And he said it would be rehomed. I didn't know if I could get any information on that cat, but-"
The person on the other end of the line cut Bucky off asking for his address, but at least by the end of the phone call, he had an address of his own.
—⍟-⍟-⍟—
"Hey, hey," Bucky said running up to the woman at the front desk. "Hey, my name is Bucky and I called earlier about a cat and you told me I could come look for him."
The woman whose nametag said Natasha seemed to recall speaking with him and she nodded. "I can show you where our cats are," she agreed. She nodded for someone else to cover the front and then wordlessly, she came out from behind the desk, opened the door to the back, and motioned Bucky ahead of her.
"You haven't heard about a light grey cat coming in?" he asked. "Adult cat, longer hair. Kind of pitiful looking."
Natasha laughed. "You just described half the cats we get in here." She lead him down a hallway and to the door to the cat center and opened it slowly.
"Always make sure there's not any cats running around when you open the door. Sometimes they like to try to escape."
Bucky barely heard her words. He was already looking inside the different plastic door enclosures trying to see the cats inside. There were big cats and little cats, skinny cats and fat cats, old cats, and litters of kittens."
"Are all of these from the streets?" Bucky asked as he looked at the nearest kitten pawing at the plexiglass.
"Most of them," she told him. "But there's also ones surrendered from bad home lives and owners moving or owners who have died. They come to us from everywhere and we love them and send them back out to hopefully better homes."
She turned a corner and looked into one of the rooms before carefully opening the door.
"Hey, Steve-"
"That's him!" Bucky gasped.
For a half-second, Natasha thought Bucky had claimed Steve. Then she looked onto her coworkers lap and saw the white cat curled up and sleeping on his legs.
"Is that your grey cat?" she teased.
"He's cleaner, I guess, but that's him. I remember him well enough to know that little face and those crunched up whiskers."
"She's cleaner," Steve whispered softly as Bucky hit his knees beside where Steve was seated. "Your cat's a girl."
"For real?" Bucky laughed. "I think the wildlife guy called her a male."
"Sam calls every animal a male unless it's pregnant or nursing," Steve dismissed.
"How did you know who I meant?" Bucky asked, but then shook his head and looked back at the cat in Steve's lap. She was sleeping soundly with a cone around her neck and her clean paws rested on Steve's knee. "Nevermind, what happened to her?"
"We spay and neuter all the cats that come through here. Turns out this one was chipped. Contacted her owners only to find out they didn't want her back. The exact family member she belonged to had passed and the rest of them didn't want to keep her so when she recovers, she'll go up on the website for adoption."
"No-"
"Unless you want to take her home?"
Bucky reached out and very carefully pet Alpine's head and the cat startled.
"She's deaf," Steve told Bucky, stroking Alpine's back to keep her calm. "I don't think she and the mean streets of Brooklyn would have ever been good for one another. It's a great thing she found you when she did."
"Well, she ran into my window and then my closet and tried to live there."
"So you only thought you picked her," Steve said with a smile.
"Yeah, I guess," Bucky shrugged. "But I can't stop thinking about her. I've already named her Alpine. I'm gonna buy her a cat tower and let her sleep on my bed if she wants and buy her treats and toys."
Steve grinned up at Natasha and then looked at Bucky.
"The anesthesia is still wearing off right now, but if you come back tomorrow, I can let you take her home."
"I'll bring you an application," Natasha said before she excused herself.
Bucky reached and pet Alpine again and this time, she was prepared for it, barely peeking at him through sleepy eyes.
"Will other people want her too?"
"Unless there's a glaring reason she shouldn't, they'll let her go home with her rescuer," Steve assured. "You don't have anything to worry about."
Bucky felt a smile break out over his face.
"I'm so excited. I've never had a pet before."
"Never?" Steve asked, surprised. "If you want, I'll give you my number. If you have any questions, you can always call me."
"Thank you," Bucky replied. "I promise to do my best, but I'll take your number just in case."