-1Special Girl

For the millionth time that hour, Jean Havoc checked his watch.

23.37

With a slight frown, he put it away again, staring down the deserted street one more time. But no slender shape came running towards the warmth of the bar behind him, seeking shelter from the rain. Havoc shook his head, rolled his shoulders and breathed on his frozen fingers. Why had he agreed on meeting in front of the building instead of inside? Grumbling, he pulled up his shoulders and hid in the high collar of his coat, leaving the dubious shelter of the canvas canopy and stalked down the street.

"Damn rain," He muttered, blaming the rain and the cold November weather for the fact he got stood up. And he had finally gotten his hopes up, finding a pretty young woman that somehow had escaped the clutches of a certain black-haired colonel. He had praised himself to be so lucky when he accidentally bumped into her in the market on his way to work. Oh, how she had ogled at the sight of his uniform, reacting al too enthusiastically when he, in a miraculously smooth mood, had offered to buy her a drink that evening as an apology. At half past TEN. Havoc tried real hard not to imagine the annoying smirk on Mustang's face, the broad grin and slap on the shoulder Breda would give him, the well-meant encouragements Fuery'd say and the small compassionate smile Falman would show. At least Hawkeye would just act normal towards him after she'd hear his account of what happened this night. That reminded him...yesterday she had adopted that dog Fuery had 'saved', and she had brought him to the office today, because she couldn't leave him home alone just yet. If she planned on doing that tomorrow, maybe the rest of the gang would be too absorbed by the 'adorable little puppy' to remember to ask him how his date went. Even Hawkeye couldn't train a dog good enough to stay home alone in two days. Right?

Thinking about that pup made Havoc even more depressed. Did his co-workers actually think he was going to eat the poor thing? He liked dogs, in a wholly non-food related way, and would have been glad to have taken it home. His pay check didn't offer that much slack, but surely he would've been able to feed the pup? But no, one little joke had caused the dog to fall in the hands of Hawkeye herself. Which hadn't seemed that bad at first. Hell, she even looked human, cupping the little puppy against her chest. And then she had shot at it. She had SHOT at a poor, drenched heap of misery. Thinking about the whole event made him feel miserable too. That and the rain. And that his date hadn't shown.

Great, right back at that failure.

Once, long before he got transferred to East City and worked for the biggest womanizer in the Eastern Province, Havoc had thought of himself as fairly attractive. Okay, maybe not like, super-handsome, but with a muscular build (thank you, military training), unruly blonde hair and twinkling blue eyes, he wasn't that bad. One of his exes had once told him that he had that rough, but cute, rascal-ish look. Right before she said she was looking for a serious relationship and he had been deemed unable to offer that. Maybe it really were the cigarettes. Lots of girls weren't fond of the habit, in the best case. Most however, wrinkled their nose at the thing, gave him the cancer-speech, and found an excuse to ditch him. Maybe he should kick the habit...Havoc violently shook his head. What was he thinking! I'll be damned if I gave up smoking for some girl! I'm not that desperate yet!

A small squeaking sound interrupted his cheerful thoughts. He stopped, looking around to see what had caused it. But the streets were deserted, all of East City finding their refuge in their warm houses. His was still a fifteen minutes walk away...

Again, the high-pitched sound was audible over the splashing of the rain. This time he had been anticipating it, and looked in the direction it came from. A small alleyway to his left, stacked with paper boxes and an overflowing trash container was all he could make out in the dark, but he decided that since he was already soaked, staying in the rain for two more minutes wouldn't make a difference. So he took a few steps into the alley, curiously looking around. Something crumpled under his foot, and as he stepped away to look at it, he found it was a small piece of cardboard. Obviously something had been written on it, because black ink was rapidly dripping off of it. Havoc didn't need to guess at the meaning of the drooping letters, however, as he gazed down upon a tiny wet fluff huddled in the corner of the nearest paper box. The kitten had noticed his appearance, and looked up pleadingly with big yellow eyes, mewing again.

Havoc stared back at it for a second, then sighed and picked it up by the scruff of it's neck. "All the others got picked, but you're left alone, eh? I feel your pain." He mumbled to it, as he put it in the inner pocket of his jacket. "Have to warn you though, I'm not a cat person." The kitten didn't seem to mind, as it curled up against his shirt. It was trembling.

Havoc switched on the light in his one-room apartment and quickly turned up the heater. Man, it was cold! After that, he got out the tiny kitten and set it on a towel, rubbing it dry. It peeped and squeaked in objection, but when Havoc fixed it a saucer of milk that quickly turned into a purr. Havoc found himself smiling in spite of everything, but that smile dropped when he looked over his room. He could not leave a cat alone in there for more then ten seconds before it found something to choke on. With the kitten momentarily absorbed in it's dinner, Havoc quickly put away some of the mess. Half-eaten pizza. Not good for hungry kittens. Especially since it was moulded over. Lose pushpins. Considering the size of the kitten, they were large enough to skewer it. Old sport socks...those could kill a grown man, let alone a cat. Almost like having a girl over and trying to save your first impression, Havoc though.

Come to think of it, he didn't know whether or not the kitten was a he or a she. Not that it mattered, he reasoned. That kind off stuff only matters if you want to name an animal. And he certainly wasn't planning on naming it. That was only one step away from keeping it. No, that little bugger would go to the animal shelter first thing in the morning. But...he was just curious. Nothing more. So he grabbed the animal by it's scruff again and flipped it over not to gently. Which it did not like, and with a yowl it dug it's nails in Havoc's hand, who let go with a stream of curses leaving his mouth. "Damn you! Can't you be nicer to the guy who saved your sorry ass? Geez..." He said, nursing his scratched hand. The cat choose for a dignified silence as a response, slowly licking dry the spots Havoc had missed.

"Tch. That's why I don't like cats. Always act like friggin' royalty." Havoc huffed. The kitten glared at him. "Well, at least I found out!" He said triumphantly, ignoring the reproachful yellow eyes boring into him. "Welcome, Miss Regina." he continued, using the name of a girl he'd once known without noticing. Her name had meant queen, and it had suited her bossy personality.

The kitten still ignored him, and Havoc used that opportunity to leisurely smoke a cigarette.

Or at least he wanted to leisurely smoke it, but got up with a start when the kitten started wheezing and coughing. He had never heard a cat cough and did not like the sound of it. Concerned, he bent over the cat. Maybe it had gotten a pneumonia from being outside for God knows how long? The kitten kept on wheezing, and Havoc nervously flicked away the cigarette and picked the shivering thing up, rubbing it's back. How the hell were you supposed to relief a cat's clogged up lungs? Finally, the wheezing stopped, and the kitten curled up in Havoc's palm, wobbling a bit.

"Woah, startled me there, girl. Hope they'll know how to help you at the shelter." He said, while putting her down in a bundle of towels he used as a make-shift basket against the heater. That should keep her warm for the night.

Havoc woke with a start, his right hand snatching the gun of his nightstand in a reflex. Someone was in his room. His eyes slid across the dark interior of the room. Night was never truly black in East City, and with the orange light of a lantern post he could make out the main features of the space, and nothing seemed out of place. Maybe the person was still in the living room and he had awoken from the sound of the front door? He wanted to slip out of bed, but his hand bumped into something soft. Something soft that purred luxuriously.

Havoc closed his eyes, lowering the gun. Count to ten...he thought. He looked next to him, and blue eyes met yellow ones, as the kitten stared up to him expectantly. He had woken to the tugging of the blankets, which the cat had used as means to get onto the bed.

"And I suppose you won't be leaving anytime soon, huh?" He said. The cat just purred even louder at the sound of his voice. Havoc was torn between annoyance and endearment.

Endearment won.

I really don't like cats, Havoc thought, as he allowed the kitten to snuggle in the crook of his arm.

"Asthma." Havoc repeated incredulously.

"Yes. Asthma." The vet replied annoyed. "Humans aren't the only ones who can suffer from lung conditions, Mr. Havoc. And this one has a pretty severe form. If you want to keep Reggie healthy, you'll have to vacuum once a day. Wooden or stone floors are also advisable, as are clean curtains. And," She continued, "You might want to consider to stop smoking. The cigarette smoke is really bad for her respiratory system. She added, wrinkling her nose at the pack of cigarettes poking out of his chest pocket.

"Her name is not Reggie. And I ain't quitting!" Havoc huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, hiding the cigs from view.

"I'm sorry, I thought that was the name you addressed her with."

"Well, yeah, but it's not my cat! You also run an animal shelter connected to this place, right? I came to drop her of!" Havoc explained impatiently.

The vet gave him a cold glare, mirroring his crossed-arm pose. "We're full" She stated, a hint of defiance in her voice.

"Full." Havoc repeated slowly.

"Yes, Mr. Havoc, full. Do I have to repeat everything for you, or do you understand the situation now?"

Havoc chose to ignore that question.

"So, just to be sure, this has nothing to do with my unfortunate attempt to ask you out the other day?" He asked.

Her lips thinned and her eyes flashed dangerously. "Don't underestimate me, sir. I know how to keep private and work life separated." She replied, though the angry blush colouring her cheeks didn't go unnoticed by Havoc.

"Fine. Thank you for your time, Miss Abbey." He said, turning around and stalking through the door without waiting for a response.

He sighed heavily. "I guess I'll have to check for more shelters in the neighbourhood, huh? And a nicer vet." He said to the lump of fluff curdled up against his chest, just like the night before. His whole chest vibrated with the heavy purr of the kitten. How on earth could such a small creature produce such a noise?

Havoc didn't even notice his lips curling into a smile.

"Maybe I should also get some cat food. Just in case they're all full too."

"I don't want to bring those files to Second Lieutenant Havoc!" Fuery whispered agitatedly. Hawkeye gave him her infamous stink eye. "Is there a problem, Master Sergeant Fuery?" She asked in a dangerously low voice.

"N-No, Ma'am!" He snapped to a salute, nearly dropping the reports he was holding. "Then go bring Havoc the reports." Fuery nodded miserably.

"More paperwork? Does it look like I haven't got enough work yet? Why do I get all the paperwork!" Havoc growled, as Fuery failed to put the reports on his desk without him noticing.

"S-So sorry, Sir!" He squeaked, speed walking back to his desk at the other side of the office before Havoc could say more.

Breda turned around to face his friend.

"Havoc, could you please do us all a huge favour and go back to smoking?"

"Shut up! There's nothing wrong with me wanting to improve my health, so get of my back, Breda!" Havoc snapped. Breda snorted. "Your health? Don't make me laugh. And there is something wrong with it, seeing as your foul mood has been bothering us for a week now." He stated calmly. Havoc didn't reply.

"Anyway, is that chick really worth it? She must have one hell of a rack if you'd stop smoking for her."

"It's not for a girl." Havoc retorted sharply.

Breda raised his eyebrows.

Despite his chagrin and the tiring and nagging craving for a cigarette, Havoc smiled inwardly. In a way, it was for a girl. "Well, so maybe it is for a girl. But she's got asthma, real bad, so I can't smoke around and she's even at risk if my clothes still smell of smoke, okay?" He said, pretending to be annoyed.

Breda whistled through his teeth. "Wow. She must be really special if you're willing to give that up. Last time you dated a girl who had asthma that bad, you immediately lost interest when you found out."

Havoc chuckled. "Yeah, I guess she really is my special girl..."