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"This might be the stupidest thing you've dragged me to yet," Ghost pulls into an empty space at the back of the parking lot. A strip mall lays out in front of them. A brewery and a nail salon bookend their destination.
"Aw, come on," Soap grins, "Gaz swears they've got great tea and-"
"I don't fancy my tea full of cat hair." Ghost shoots back before putting the truck in park.
Soap hops out like a kid going to a candy store, while Simon pockets the keys in his jacket and looks to the passenger seat. "Phone."
Soap looks back at the seat, seeing his cracked phone sitting on the seat where it had fallen out of his jeans. He rolls his eyes, annoyed by his own forgetfulness, tucking it into his back pocket. "I donnae what I'd do without ye, LT."
"You'd miss a lot more phone calls, that's for sure." Ghost mutters, trailing a few steps behind Soap and scanning the parking lot. Ghost can already see the furry beasts behind the glass, tails swishing and soft meows can be heard from outside.
A chiming bell signals their entry to The Smitten Kitten Cat Cafe, Ghost was expecting to be assaulted with the smells of stale cat piss and old fur- but it's the smell of coffee that catches his attention instead. Good coffee. As soon as they enter, a tuxedo cat stands from its perch on a window sill and stretches before curling back up in a new spot.
A lanky young man stands at the hostess podium, looking up from his work with a smile, he says,
"Hello, table for two?"
Soap nods, doing his best not to swivel his head around and start cooing at all the cats. "Aye, somewhere by the windows if ye got it."
The host smiles and nods, taking two menus from under the stand and directing them towards a corner table by the window. The corner promises sunlight later in the day, but is pleasantly warm and situated near a large boxed off area with several cats snoozing. The felines don't look up as the pair sit, used to humans being around. The cafe is relatively quiet today, not many visitors on a Tuesday afternoon. Most people would be at work, but Soap was determined to take Ghost out on the few days of reprieve they get after a mission.
"Can I get you some waters or-"
"Coffee. Black." Ghost cuts in, ignoring the pointed look from Soap. So called civilian skills were not Ghost's expertise, but he begrudgingly adds, "And waters. Thanks."
"Aye, and bring us two of those blueberry muffins I spied on the way in as well." Soap adds with a prize winning grin.
Ghost's eyes flicker towards a chirping orange cat on a tall cat tree. The large fiery cat swats downward off the edge of its perch to hit the black cat who is curled up in a hanging basket. The black cat, clearly annoyed after several pats, quietly hisses at the orange one before jumping off the cat tree and moving towards a covered pillow bed shaped like a shark.
"Is s'posed to be fun, Si." Ghost shoots Johnny a look promising much worse than cat scratches if the Scot uses his birth name in public again, but he allows the man to take his hand until the waiter brings back the coffees. Soap points out the kitten curled up under its mother in the corner of the box, another tuxedo cat zooming across the wooden track along the top of the wall, but Ghost's eyes keep finding the orange and black cats.
The black cat, having been harassed again by the orange cat, has retreated to the top ledge of a cat tree made to look like a series of cardboard boxes. The orange cat has accepted he cannot reach the black cat and instead bumps his head under the ledge, the black cat grumbling every time he's shifted slightly by a particularly hard thump.
When Ghost's eyes turn back to his coffee, Soap has his chin on his hand, brows raised in a smug victory. "Careful, LT. Almost saw a smile."
Ghost huffs, taking a swig of the surprisingly good brew, "Not a smile. Wondering if we're about to witness a cat fight."
Soap looks over, seeing the black cat has now stood up and leaned its head down to the orange cat, eyes closing every time the orange cat bops it on its forehead. Despite the swipes aimed at its face, the orange cat is unperturbed and continues to play fight with the black cat.
Before Soap can assure Ghost that's how cats play and it's fine, the black cat jumps down and bites a swiping paw, only letting go when the orange cat yowls and scurries off. The black cat then settles back on the top perch, eyes watching the room. Ghost could swear those yellow eyes connect with his for a beat longer than an animal should allow.
"Sorry about that, those two are always getting into it." The waiter laughs, refilling their coffee and taking Soap's empty plate.
"Shouldn't ye separate them? So they donnae get hurt?" Soap asks, eyes narrowing at the black cat.
The waiter shakes his head, "Trust me, we tried. They're a bonded pair."
Ghost looks up at the waiter, mulling this information over. "How? The black one clearly hates the orange one."
The waiter glances over to the black cat snoozing while the orange cat sits in a box, licking his bitten paw. "They were found together as strays, must've spent some time on the streets together. Oh, here, take a look-"
A calico female walks over to the orange one, sniffing at the slight tang of blood in the air as the orange cat pauses with its rough tongue halfway down its paw. In less than a heartbeat, the black cat jumps nearly ten feet down to land beside the orange cat with a growl at the calico. The orange cat continues treating its wound while the black cat stalks back and forth, warding off the calico with a hiss.
"Oh," Soap looks back to the waiter, "Frenemies then?"
The waiter nods, "Something like that."
Ghost can't tear his eyes away from the orange cat makes room for the black cat in the box who curls around him protectively. "They got names?"
"Black one is Specter, orange one is named Suds- he hates a bath. Mostly because it means being separated from Specter for the duration."
Ghost's eyes squeeze shut as he scratches at his forehead, already seeing where this was going. He can feel Soap's wide eyes boring through his mask, the Scot speaking through a toothy smile, "Aye? Why Specter then?"
"Because he only makes noise when he's around Suds. We thought he might have a vocal chord issue at first, but really he only trusts Suds to hear what he's got to say."
The two men leave a few hours later with two cats, several recommendations for boarding, and a large bag of supplies.
Suds' new collar is black with skulls. Specter's is a bright sky blue.