Chapter Text
It all started on a Saturday at 12:32pm.
Newt had been humming to himself, making a sandwich to eat when he got the phone call.
He'd let Bark out around two hours ago, you see, as he usually does, expecting the black and white kitty to come back around 3pm.
Bark loved being outside. She loved sleeping in Newt's garden in that one little spot where the vegetable patch met the flower planters, just in the corner. The indicator that she practically lived there was the flattened grass and claw marks on the fence.
However, she didn't just love sleeping outdoors. No, no - she loved prancing around her little estate, acting as if she owned the place, with her tail in the air and head high, watching out for any pathetic little mice or cats coming into her territory.
Bark might've been skinny and tiny, but she was fierce.
Anyway, Newt's phone had rung and he'd let out a groan of annoyance, stopping midway through cutting a piece of ham to pick up his nuisance of a phone from the top of the microwave in his cosy kitchen.
His face stuck in a 'fuck-off-please' expression, he had looked at the caller ID and furrowed his brows. Why was the vet ringing? Was Bark okay?
He'd answered the phone, and brought it up to his ear, to be welcomed with the oh-so-annoying statement of;
"Hello, Mr Isaacs. We have your cat, Bark, as somebody thought she was a stray and brought her to us."
So, yeah, that's why he was in the car, hands gripping the steering wheel impossibly hard, eyes slitted and steam practically coming out of his ears.
——
Newt let out an annoyed huff and opened the door to the vets. It wasn't quiet nor busy, just probably... normal. There were a few dogs and cats with their owners and he couldn't help but smile softly as a little girl opened the top of a cat carrier to trill, "Hi, Buttons!".
But then he looked at the vet at the reception and realised why he was there.
Honestly, Newt shouldn't have been as annoyed as he was. The person who had taken Bark to the vets thinking she was a stray probably had all good intentions. They probably just wanted to make sure the precious cat was okay and well-fed.
But at the same time, everybody - literally everybody - in his neighbourhood knew that Bark belonged to him because of the nights calling her in with cat food in hand. Plus, she wasn't exactly friendly with other people. No, it was quite the opposite. She disliked people (other than her person) and stayed well away from them.
Which meant that this idiot of a person had to have practically forced her into their arms and stuffed her in their car, and that was the annoying thing.
"Hey." Newt greeted the receptionist with a quick smile, to which she offered one back. "I'm here to pick up Bark. Uh... someone thought she was a stray but she's actually mine." He didn't have to be the sharpest tool in the shed to realise how damn suspicious that sounded. He could feel people's glares baring into his back, wondering how people can mistake a cat as a stray unless it was underfed by its owner.
Either the receptionist saved him by accident or on purpose, but either way, Newt sort of wanted to cry of glee. "Bark has the skin illness, right?" She typed something in on her computer, and, when given a nod, smiled. "Okay, if you'd like to sit down, someone will call you through in a moment."
"Thanks." For the second time, Newt nodded. He made his way over to the seating area and made sure to sit where the cats were and not the dogs. It wasn't that he didn't like dogs, but... Actually, no, he just didn't like dogs.
That didn't mean he was going to go around and slaughter all the dogs in the world - of course not - it just meant that he was going to stick around the kitties and their much more serene demeanour. Peace and quiet was much more preferable over loudness, in his opinion.
Newt let his eyes wander around the vets. There was the normal decor that was found in every veterinary clinic, for example the posters that explain not to leave dogs in hot cars (how could anyone be so stupid?), or the ones with the vets' rating on.
Another reason why Newt disliked dogs was because they felt so favourited over cats. He noticed that the rack with pet toys and treats on were mostly for dogs, and then there were a few, more boring stuff for cats.
He huffed. Cats were clearly superior. Did he have to remind people cats used to be worshipped?
"Newt Isaacs?"
Newt jumped when his name got called, eyes moving from the pet food to the vet who was smiling at him.
"Yeah." He got up and followed the vet into their clinic room. He knew from past experience that this was one of the smaller rooms, with its pale green door and baseboard in the same colour to match.
Newt flashed a small smile at the vet who stood back in the room but instantly rushed over to Bark's side to make a fuss of her. "Hey, sweetheart." The cat rubbed her face against his hands, either for attention or to try and hide. He assumed it was the latter, considering she had been taken to the vet, and by a complete stranger.
He hadn't even noticed there was someone else in the vet room until they spoke up. "Hi.. Uh, sorry for thinking your cat was a stray. She just looked so skinny! I've seen her around a few times, didn't know she was yours. She's really cute, you know?"
Newt straightened his back and turned around to look at the stranger. Except, no, this wasn't a stranger.
This was Thomas, someone new who had moved into his neighbourhood around a month ago. The same Thomas that played music extremely loud in his garden whilst watering his dying plants (seriously, though, he needed a gardener), and the same Thomas whose stupid dog scared Bark away.
So, he already had a grudge on the nuisance of a man.
"Yes." He muttered. "I do know."
If Thomas noticed any of the irritation that was laced in Newt's words, he didn't mention anything about it or wasn't bothered by it. "I'm surprised I don't know you! My name's Thomas. What's yours?"
Newt huffed and folded his arms, glancing down at Bark who was sat next to him on the vet table. "I know who you are. My neighbours have complained about you to me more than once."
"Oh-"
The vet looked between them, raising an eyebrow. "Newt, I'm going to get some more medicine for Bark. You should be nearly finished with them."
He looked at the vet and nodded. "Yeah, I think she's only got a few left. Thanks."
When the vet left, Thomas blinked blankly at Newt. "Is your name actually Newt?"
Newt shot him an overly sarcastic smile. "No. It's Isaac Samuel-James Newton."
Once again, Thomas just looked at him. "Really?" He raised both eyebrows and he looked like such a moron. Newt really hated his face. "That's quite weird."
"Yeah." He glared. "Thanks. I appreciate the compliment."
With a grin, the brunet took a step towards the exit. "I should probably go. You don't seem to like me. But I love your cat!"
Newt just blinked at the half-insult. "Bye."
He watched Thomas as he left, and, once he opened the door, turned around to Bark and muttered under his breath. "Bloody hell, I'm sorry that idiot forced you into his car."
But of course, Thomas heard, so he huffed and turned around before in the door frame. "Maybe you should get a collar for her so someone else doesn't make the same mistake."
Newt bit his tongue to stop himself from making a retaliation of, 'Don't tell me how to look after my cat, you bloody twat!'.
(He bought a collar the next day. He weighed out the pros and cons and realised there were more pros; for example, people would know Bark wasn't a stray, and also because Bark would look quite adorable in a little collar with a bow tie.)
——
Newt was going to commit arson.
He was going to 'accidentally' set fire to his stupid neighbour's house because said stupid neighbour was the most irritating thing in the entire world.
Newt had just strolled into the kitchen to get a bowl of cereal at 9:43am when he looked out the window and saw what must've been the worst thing to have ever exist.
Thomas was trying to get Bark to come over to him for a pet.
Who did he think he was? Bark was not going to go over to him and allow him to make a fuss of her. Hell, sometimes she ignored Newt when she was outside having the time of her life, killing all types of critters. There was no way - absolutely no way - that she was going to trill at Thomas and begin purring. That type of stuff only happened in Disney films.
Newt couldn't help but grin through a mouthful of cereal when Bark hissed at Thomas.