Thanks to Debbie for the beta!

Summary: Selina feeds the feral. Somebody isn't happy about it.

Cinnamon-Honey

Selina's been courting them for a while now. Every day, she carries a combination food-and-water dish into Robinson Park. She sets it down on the grass, a respectable distance from a secluded wooden bench, though marginally closer to it than it was the day before. Then she sets her knapsack down next to it.

She fills the water bowl first. They took away the drinking fountains years ago, so she's come prepared with a bottle. She unscrews the cap and fills the receptacle. A half-cup of kibble—85 percent animal protein, no grain, no soy, no fillers. With a smile, Selina withdraws to the bench, pulls out her e-reader, and flicks it on.

She doesn't have long to wait, although she's not particularly happy to see the first customer. His coat is too shiny, his manner too friendly, and the collar about his neck clinches it. This is no feral cat. This buff boy has a family who allows him outside. And while Selina does love cats, all cats, she can't help her annoyance that he's steadily approaching the food she's set out for the ferals.

She's debating whether to shoo him off when she sees him freeze. His ears go back. He lowers his belly flat to the ground, drops his head to his paws and thumps his tail.

A moment later, a long-haired tortoiseshell walks past Selina's bench toward the food. She'd approached from behind, giving the bench a berth of several yards. Instead of heading directly for the dish, though, she stops almost precisely halfway between Selina and the food. She turns around to face the bench, her eyes wary.

Selina smiles. "Good morning, Simone," she says in a low voice. The colors in the tortie's coat remind Selina of cinnamon stirred into honey. From 'cinnamon-honey' it was only a short hop to 'Simone'.

Simone regards her for a moment. Then she turns her head toward the cringing buff cat and, a moment later, back to Selina. Her expression can best be termed 'outraged'. Selina can almost hear what the cat is thinking.

Do you see him there? Do you? Are you just going to sit there like a lump and let him hang around?

She laughs softly. "Don't look at me like that, Simone," she teases. "We both know you can take him. I'm not going to interfere."

The look on Simone's face is absolutely withering.

That is just typical, Human. I should have known better than to expect anything from you!

Then she stalks over to the food dish and starts scarfing the kibble.

From opposite sides, Selina and the buff cat watch, one despairing, the other amused. Tomorrow, Selina thinks, she'll move the dish another inch or two closer. Simone is definitely warming up.