Disclaimer—Characters belong to Chris Fedak and Josh Schwartz. No copyright infringement intended. Any similarity to events or persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

Author's Notes—This wouldn't be possible without the graciousness of Cindy Ryan, who allowed me to adopt her J/Ellie plot bunny. It was so cute and fluffy that, as soon as it made it to my brain, it just bounced all over the place and the following is what came about. Very big thanks to Cindy for the beta as well!

Also, normally I have a story finished in its entirety before I start posting anything. Not so much with this one... I'll just keep posting and see how many Sundays we can do. ;)

Spoilers—None. General information only.

Loads of Love for Downy—Sunday afternoons in the laundromat were never so fun before...

The apartment complex had a small laundry room, with all of three sets of washers and dryers that had to be ancient. They were battered, dented and scratched. The worst part, however, was that the belts squeaked as they struggled to agitate or spin. It was enough to drive John Casey mad, but that was why he brought along a laptop and NSA-issued headphones. While listening to the drivel from the Intersect's apartment wasn't the best protection, it was better than none at all.

It was a drizzly, dismal Sunday afternoon in Echo Park. A good day for getting caught up on the more domestic tasks he rarely had the time or inclination to accomplish after an operation of importance to national security or selling the occasional charcoal grill. The first load, his dark mission clothes, was already in the dryer. The second load, filled with his Buy More uniforms of polos and khakis, was just beginning its wash. He always felt bad about taking up more than one set of machines at a time. There was no point in monopolizing the amenities provided by the landlord, as scarce as they were.

As his charge and his charge's dweeb of a friend began to banter about the pros and cons of Bad Company 2 over Modern Warfare 2, he sighed, removing his headphones. Maybe he would be better off with the incessant belt noise. And maybe Chuck Bartowski could keep himself out of trouble for the remaining hour or two Casey would be sequestered in the laundromat.

He closed the laptop, securing it in the black backpack at his feet. Turning his attention to the room's small windows, he could see the rain pelting down. It could've been worse, he decided. He could be in the field somewhere, on a stakeout. There was nothing worse than rainy conditions while trying to keep track of a mark.

As he watched the tiny rivulets of water dance down the window pane, his keen senses alerted him that something was off, something was different. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end and his ears heard some small sound, something that hadn't been there before. Rationally, it was probably something coming loose within the old Whirlpool.

Except, it didn't match the cycle noises.

Caution being his middle name, he visually scanned the room, catching movement out of the corner of his eye. He reached for his service weapon tucked in the back waistband of his jeans. As he pulled his SIG Sauer, however, he realized what it was he was aiming at, his culprit.

He grunted, replacing his weapon and adjusting his tee shirt to cover the bulge. "Where did you come from?" he asked, reaching down and scooping up the puffball of fur. The kitten was small, a calico blend, and fit just perfectly in his large hand.

While he was distracted with his new feline companion, the door to the laundry room smacked open. He eased the cat onto the floor and was about to pull his weapon again when he spotted the slightly soggy form of one Ellie Woodcomb standing there in the open doorway.

"Oh, hey, John," she said, hefting her precariously stacked hampers onto the table. She looked at her soaked arms with a shake of her head before running her fingers through her wet hair. "Lovely weather we're having, huh?" she asked with a smile that could've easily brightened up the greater Los Angeles area.

He grunted, then tried to cover by clearing his throat. "Yeah."

"Devon always wants to insist on going to the laundromat downtown, with the gigantic, industrial machines, but, by the time you drive all the way out there, find a spot..." She sighed. "Not to mention, I can only imagine what I'd look like, hiking three blocks from the parking structure to the front door."

It seemed like something the preppy adventure-sports cardiologist would insist upon. Casey tried not to sneer. "I take it he's not aware you're here."

She shook her head as she loaded the other two washers. "He's got a niece that's graduating elementary school in Arizona. So, the Very Awesomes are all gathering for the celebration."

"You didn't go?"

She glanced at him, hesitating. He looked like the kind of guy who could keep her secret. "Well, I probably could've, but I really didn't want to... So many Awesomes in one place?" She shivered, and not because she was soaked to the bone.

He couldn't prevent the amused grunt.

"Plus, it's elementary school. She'll probably have another one at middle school, but the important one is high school..." She drifted off. "I'm horrible, aren't I?"

"I don't think so," he said, watching as the kitten rubbed up against his leg. He sighed a little. He'd made a friend, hadn't he?

She glanced up at his sigh, absently tossing more scrubs into the washing machine. She followed his gaze to the tiny bundle of fur at his shoes. "John... is that...?" She lowered her voice. "I thought the landlord installed this new no-pet policy."

"It's not mine," he told her. "I found it."

She quickly loaded the machines, added soap, and started them. "It's adorable," she said, crossing towards the little dear. "I think she likes you."

"You sure it's a she?" he asked.

Ellie scooped it up, holding it close. "Oh, John, how cute is she?"

Obviously, John decided, women just clearly had to know the gender of small furry creatures by some freakish sixth sense. "Pretty cute, I guess."

"And you just found it?"

He nodded. "Right before you came in."

"Probably avoiding the rain," she said, scratching the cat behind the ears. "I always wanted a cat when I was a kid. Never got one," she lamented.

"I had a dog once," he found himself telling her.

"Yeah?"

He realized that was a question that meant for him to tell her about it. He scratched at the back of his neck. "It was a black lab mix. A mutt, really."

"What was its name?"

He smiled at the memory. "Duke."

She grinned. "I can see you having a big, black lab mix named Duke," she said, easing onto one of the chairs in the room, still holding the kitten. "This little girl needs a name."

"Are you sure that's a wise idea?"

"Why would it be a bad one?" she countered.

"If the policy of the apartment is not to have pets..."

"What if we didn't keep it?"

"I'm not sure I follow," he said, hooking his thumb in his belt loop.

"If we can't have pets in the apartments themselves, why couldn't we have a communal pet? Here at the laundromat?"

"While I think the pet clause in the lease doesn't necessarily address the laundry room, I'm not sure the landlord would see the loophole."

Ellie, however, was already beyond smitten. "She needs a good laundry name."

Casey frowned. "Are you talking about, like, Detergent?" Or Lint, he added in his mind, but he wasn't sure that one was any better than Detergent, not to mention Ellie might take offense to it on behalf of the kitten.

"Kind of," she said. "Y'know, there's Bounce... Tide..."

"Tide with bleach..."

She wrinkled her nose at his suggestion. "Wait, I know! Snuggle!"

"You aren't talking about one of those awful backwards robe things they sell on TV, are you?" he asked, unable to prevent a wince.

"No, no, the fabric-softener teddy bear," she told him. "Y'know? Snuggle?"

Casey was somewhat familiar with the deranged puppet, sure. "Whatever you think is best." He watched as the kitten squirmed in Ellie's hands, checking out its surroundings, curiously looking her over. It didn't seem like a cat that wanted to snuggle, so perhaps that might be too much of a misnomer. "What about Downy?"

She glanced up at him.

"I mean, that is the brand that the bear is the mascot for, is it not?"

"Downy," she said, scooping up the kitten as it tried to crawl down her pant leg. She nodded, looking at the cat's sweet face. "I think Downy is perfect."

Stay tuned...