Fandom: Life on Mars
Characters: Annie and a ginger cat
Rating: Green Cortina (I think) PG
Spoilers: Ashes to Ashes ep.1 thing... hmm...
Disclaimer: As much as I would like to, I don't own these shows. The BBC, Kudos does.
Author's Comment: Yay! Another dreary piece from me! What else do you expect? I swear... I am not like this in real life. Seriously, I'm not.
Warning: Suggested character death + it's unbeta-ed. *le gasp*
The biting wind flies across my tear-stained cheeks and into the derelict pathway, before winding its way up into a heart-shaped gap of isolated blue sky above, where electricity tingles and dark clouds tremble, advancing hand in hand with the wind; threatening to close that last blue shred and shatter its remains into a thousand water-droplets. Dry, cracked lips are moistened with a tongue as my eyes lunge out into the glittering expanse of cold, foul-smelling water. A soft, warm body sits itself down beside my feet, tail wrapped delicately around my heels. A sympathetic mew is emitted from parted jaws as I look at the ginger cat through peripheral vision. Silence calmly stretches out for god knows how long; only the wind, the steady sloshing of water and the occasional paper fluttering past ignores its gentle slumber.
“You know more than you let on, old friend,” I say at last, my eyes still trained on the gently retching water, “You and I both know how long a cat can only live; yet here you are, same as ever.”
The cat lets out a curious ‘mrrrow’, causing me to smile faintly.
“You think I don’t remember you? Well I do, oddly enough,” I look down to the cat, questioningly, “Somehow.”
The cat stares out into the canal with amber eyes, and smiles politely to the unknown misted ghosts that dance atop the water’s surface before meeting my gaze.
“Why is it that, while the rest of the world spins so fast, we stand here; and nothing moves?”
I feel my eyes watering again; the wind ceases to halt, so I look back to the canal. The cat follows my gaze and mews again; a gust of wind rushes past. A sharp intake of bitter-sweet familiar scents; soap and leather, washes over me, a gentle ghost of a hand slides into my own; and I gasp. The sensation dissipates within a heartbeat, until all I’m left with is a faint lingering of his scent. My eyes close. And I stand; here, shivering, unhinged with memories; with an old ginger cat that smells of soap and leather. The warm body of the cat departs from its post at my feet, leaving them suddenly cold. A single salty raindrop slides down my cheek; the clouds have finally shattered. And I still stand, here, as rain sets in from the clouds above, no shred of blue sky left. Numb from the cold, my eyes are still firmly shut by the time the rain stops; and they stay closed- forever.
Alone, under a cardboard box, where he’d sheltered from the previous downpour, the ginger cat watches the rainbow that becomes painted in the sky. He hears a splash and briefly wonders where Annie has gone. The definitive step. The ginger cat blinks sadly and looks back to the washed-out sky.
Maybe she’s gone over the rainbow.