Gunpowder
Chapter Thirty

Poppy was a heavy sleeper, and she sure loved to sleep. The young woman didn’t wake up until her slightly taller counterpart had returned from work. Axis had even had to wake her up. But she didn’t come alone.

Poppy’s vision had managed to clear itself, for the most part, by the time something was dropped on her chest. Her eyes focused on Axis, standing above her, a bright smile on her face.

“I brought you something,” she said, the smile staying clearly visible.

Fur. That was what Poppy was feeling. She shook the sleep from her eyes and brushed her hands over the invisible force that was pressing down on her chest. It was fluffy all right.

She gasped.

On top of her was a medium-sized animal, its long black fur slicked down to its sides. It was the cat she had seen at the pet store! The technician sprung out of bed, still wearing her clothes from the night before. The cat had jumped off the bed just seconds before, gracefully landing on the floor.

“A cat?” That was all Poppy could make out in a shrill little whisper. She sounded like an excited child, and oh boy was she excited.

“Yeah, I just.. I don’t know, got it on impulse.”

“Well, I’m glad you did. Does it have a name?”

“I was hoping you could name it,”

“Really?”

“Sure, why not,”

“I-I don’t know what to name it, really.”

“Something French, maybe?”

“Yes! That would be great! Um, how about just France?”

“France.. I like it!”

France, the aforementioned black and white cat, weaved around the floor, sniffing everything in sight. Its fluffy tail bounced up and down gracefully as it danced around the carpet. It seemed wary, but eager.

“Is it a boy?”

“Yes, young, one year old,”

“Well, this will be an adventure,”

“Officially, he’s your cat. I have a job and I won’t be here all the time. I set up the water and food bowls, as well as the litterbox.”

“Thanks. Your work is done for the day?”

“No. I’m on lunch break. I have to go back for a patrol or something. When I’ll return is unknown, but I’ll be back. I must leave now, good luck with France,”

“Good luck at work,” Poppy responded, wishing her roommate goodbye.

And, just like that, Poppy was left alone in her room with her new cat pacing the floor. She, of course, wanted to pet the thing, and did just that.

The short woman sat down, patting her lap. France immediately looked up at her, his nose twitching. His tail flicked for a moment and nervously paced to its new owner. It eventually reached her, mewling softly.

“Come here kitty..” she purred. France rubbed his soft face against her leg. He placed one paw on her thigh, then the second paw, and the next second he was laying on her leg, rubbing against her legs.

“Love ya France....”

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