again & again | Miss Leigh

[BEVAN KRIS GRAY]

BEVAN KRIS GRAY,

In the tiny waiting room sat quite a trio: a delicate, elderly lady conversing quietly with her family of parrots, a young girl and her father with their blind old German Shepherd, and a rather uncomfortable young man with an expensive breed of feline that - in the last half hour - had hissed and spat at every man, woman, and child that came within four feet of its cage.

"Please, Neap, settle down," the tomcat's owner slipped his thin fingers through the metal bars of the cage door, just able to stroke his companion's head. The man had adopted the Abyssinian a few years ago, on the simple premise that he himself had been the only person the old boy had ever taken a liking to. The previous owners were astounded when Neap - then simply referred to as Mr. Grumpy by the children - approached Bevan Gray so willingly, rubbing against his legs and letting out a purr, the first that any of them had ever heard. The cat continued this behaviour even now, and if Gray ever had any one over, the first thing they would receive was a rather loud warning hiss from where Neapolitan kept his perch on the sitting room window sill.

But for the past week or so, the Abyssinian's temper had worsened tenfold; the normally verbal cat had taken to hiding under the bed or in the back of the closet, and no amount of cat food or treats could coax the old boy out of the shadows. Bevan had hardly been at his apartment at all this week--he had been so busy at the studio, the photographer had an inflatable mattress stored in the back room.

Getting to this vet's office had been a rush; Bevan had nearly forgotten the appointment, and it was only twenty minutes after he was supposed to leave the studio did he actually make it out the door. He rushed home, dragged his Abyssinian out from under the bed, and cursed at traffic as he drove to Barnes. He didn't even have time to change; early this morning he had met with a very influential client, and so he had dressed up - suit and combed, parted hair. Now, in the waiting room, he still wore the suit's trousers, but had left the jacket and the tie back at his apartment. He rolled the white shirt's sleeves up to his elbows, and his hair could never stay slicked back for long - it was already curly like usual.

Not only was Neap's rude behaviour causing him embarrassment, the sound and smell of horses at Hillside Farm just a ways away made Mr. Gray dread every trip to the vet's. Neap had been a healthy cat so far, so Bevan had successfully avoided any trips to Barnes thus far. His mum had been calling him continuously the past few days; It has been almost three years, Kris. You can't keep distancing yourself like this--and believe me, I know that is what you are doing., over twenty messages left on his cell phone tell him.

Bevan sat Neap's cage on the bench beside him, leaning back in the seat more comfortably, checking his watch again. He had explained this before; he wasn't distancing himself, he just had so much work to do. He was generating more buisness, more weddings, more models, more magazines, and more publications. What do you even need money for? Violetta had persisted. No children, no wife - oh, don't give me that, Bevan. What do you need a house for - who are you going to share it with? You can buy a more expensive car, a larger roof over your head - but none of these things will give you what you really want.

He had waited long enough. Bevan left his cat to hiss across the room at the shepherd, while he approached the desk again; the woman was turned around, not the one he had spoken with before. Good, maybe she can give me what I really need.

"Excuse me, miss? My appointment was scheduled for over twenty minutes ago."

[blaire anne leigh]

"Al-right, Mrs. Levaine. That should be it. Your rabies shot has been administered to Hugh, so you're all up to date with his vaccinations! Apart from being somewhat overweight, he's doing just fine," said Blaire cheerfully. The female gave the dog a sheepish type of smile, and then turned back to the owner.

"I'm running late...but the one thing I would advise you is to leave him to just eat his dog food. Add some green beans in the mix to help with the weight, and please try to avoid giving him scraps. You'll both benefit for that one," laughed the younger of the two, winking at the older woman. Her dog, Hugh, had slowly been gaining weight, and each time she saw him next, he seemed to be getting bigger - and the old dog was done growing.

Showing the client and her tail-wagging patient out of her exam room, Blaire scanned the small, cosy-but-not-cramped waiting room and walked behind the reception desk. She was shuffling through the documents set there for her regarding the rest of the day's patients, and had just picked her next client's forms when someone approached her behind the desk. Blaire jumped and turned around just as the male in front of her began to speak. He had wanted to know when he was to be seen. It wasn't exactly her fault that no veterinarians or vet techs wanted a job in a small town. She was all the town had, and was therefore, quite busy. Obviously this man had not known this, and seemed to be impatient. Nevertheless, she needed to answer him somehow.

'How rude!' thought Blaire, tilting her head as she observed the man. Smiling kindly - she was never mean to her clients - the veterinarian leaned back against the wooden desk behind her and said, "Well, if you are the Mr. Gray whose papers I have in my hand, then I suppose you're going to be joining me in the exam room with your cat...Neopolitain." The female straightened herself up, and then added, "I was about to give my apologies to the clients waiting, but I suppose you couldn't wait."

Chuckling lightly, she thought, 'It's called a waiting room, and yet half my clients don't have the patience to just sit there and wait.' Smiling once more, the female looked the man over again, then scanned the waiting room. She had never met a Mr. Gray, and knew the other patients and their owners in the waiting room, so she supposed it had to be. "If you'll please follow me, Mr. Gray, we'll be in exam room two," voiced the vet, turning on her heel and heading into the cool exam room.

The female's converse (her shoe choice for the day) squeaked as they walked through the narrow passageway leading to the first exam room, then she turned a sharp corner and entered the second. She waited until the male had entered and seemed comfortable before continuing. "So what seems to be the problem here with Neopolitain today, Mr. Gray?" asked Blaire, curious to know why this newcomer had come to her office today. There had to be some reason the Abyssinian was there, and she hoped to solve the problem.

words | five four zero.
muse | deadliest catch, i s'pose.
notes | so excited for this thread. <3
outfit of choice | click

[BEVAN KRIS GRAY]

IF I COULD WALK ON WATER,
IF I COULD TELL YOU WHAT'S NEXT

Bevan frowned at her comment about the scraps; what was wrong with pleasuring yourself with greasy, sodium-stuffed food once in a while? Hugh the Dog seemed to have quite the life. No responsibilities, no green beans; why would he care if he was gaining a pound or two? Bevan patted the dog's head as he past out of the office, silently wishing him luck with his new, unfortunate diet. Now that the woman was finished, he spoke up.

The receptionist started, surprised by his sudden appearance. Taking notice of her coat and her tag, he was surprised to see that she was the veterinarian. She was young, and not at all like the cranky vet he had taken Neap to a few years back in central London. Though, this doctor still managed to sneak in a strict word or two. Sure, waiting rooms were for waiting - but that didn't meant he expected to be waiting twenty minutes. Didn't these places understand that he had work to do?

Still, he supposed his question had been a bit snappish. "Yes, that is me," He said as he followed her down the hallway, grabbing Neap's cage before proceeding. He grinned to himself as he looked at the converse squeaking in front of him; "Excellent shoe choice,", he commented with not one mite of sarcasm - he had at least five pairs of the brand himself. So maybe all doctors weren't as upright as he imagined.

"Well," Bevan set the cage on the table and opened the front door; Neap didn't move from his curled position in the back corner. "Neap isn't the friendliest of cats, but whenever I come home from work he usually comes to greet me at the door, and then follows me around the house." He felt like a complete prat explaining this to her, but he was truly worried about Neap. "But for the past week or so he's been hiding in the closet or under the bed, and he won't even come out for his favorite treats or any of his toy mice." Bevan leaned against the wall to his side, arms crossed over his chest. "I've never had problems like this with him before; the old boy just seems so depressed lately. I am starting to worry for him." he shrugged.

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[blaire anne leigh]

Nice shoe choice, voiced the male as he walked behind her into the exam room. His voice didn't seem to be hinted with any sort of sarcasm, so Blaire looked at him and smiled. "Thanks. They're not worn very often, but on busy days like these...they're a welcome relief." Blaire sat down at her chair and focused on the Abyssinian. He really was gorgeous. She hardly had much experience with pure bred cats due to the lack of them in this small town. Swallowing, she listened as the male retold his tale of what had been going on with his cat for the past week. She paid close attention to the words he spoke, and occasionally jotted down notes on her macbook, nodding every so often.

Once Mr. Gray had finished speaking, the female thought for a moment, then asked, "is he fine to let out of the cage? Allow him to get used to his surroundings?" She wanted to take a look at the tomcat, and not just through the bars of his cage. She brought her computer from her lap to her desk, and brought up the normal standard chart used on most animals here. She would have to check his temperature and his heart rate, but the female was also unsure of how the cat would react to her. She didn't near his cage yet, because she wanted Mr. Gray to let him out so he could explore for a while.

"How has Neopolitain's routine been this past week. Would you say it would be quite normal? Because cats can become easily stressed, which causes them to make changes in their own lifestyles to get their owner's attention. Quite smart, most cats are," regarded the veterinarian, scrolling through things on her computer.

"If you don't mind, I will need to take his temperature and such. How is he for that? It's my first time seeing him, so if he does react badly, I need to know so that I can take the routine precautionary measures. You know..." laughed Blaire. She was quite sure he didn't know, but that was okay with her. The female stared down at the cage, surprised at how calm the cat seemed to be. Many cats, in fact, despised the vet. She supposed they could sense it both in the smell and the atmosphere.

[BEVAN KRIS GRAY]

EVERY GESTURE,
EVERY MOVE THAT SHE MAKES

Bevan grimaced. "Well, considering the fact that he's been hissing and spitting at everyone in the office, it is pretty much safe to say that he'll probably be a bit difficult," the man warned her. He opened the cage and put his hands around Neap, - "Good boy, Neap, come on" - cooing to him softly as he pulled the Abyssinian out of his cage. The cat fought him in his arms, and Bevan set the tom on the table. Neap hissed at his owner, leaping down onto the floor and back onto Miss Leigh's desk. Bevan was dumbfounded when the old tomcat approached the woman so gently. The usually grumpy Abyssinian had never been so docile with anyone but him; this woman was going to take his money and his cat.

"Wow, I'm shocked," His surprise shown clearly through his voice. Neap meowed at Miss Leigh, his large green eyes just a small distance away from her face. The cat clearly wanted attention.

"Neap never does this. He dislikes everyone - well, that was, everyone except me. And you, apparently." He watched as the tom rubbed his head against her computer screen, clearing marking ownership. In his surprise he tried to remember the questions she had asked.

"Well, honestly, his routine hasn't been completely normal lately. Usually I get back from my studio by eleven, but these past few weeks I've had so much business I've taken to staying overnight. I come back during lunch to feed him, of course, but otherwise I haven't seen much of him lately." Gray admitted. Honestly, he felt kind of betrayed; he had been the only one little Neap had ever loved in his entire life. And now his old tomcat was charmed within two seconds? Well, he supposed he couldn't exactly blame the old boy; picturing the doctor without the glasses and in something more comfortable than a vet's coat, he could see how any male - human or not, regardless - could feel attracted to her. Miss Leigh was a very beautiful woman. Smart, too, to become a doctor, and run her own practice.

"So what were you saying about routine precautionary measures? I didn't quite understand."

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[blaire anne leigh]

The female smiled sheepishly and looked from the cat to his owner, and back to the cat. Like she mentioned earlier, she knew that Mr. Gray probably didn't know what the heck she was talking about, so she tried to go for the right words.

"Well, with a cat, we normally start out with the most basic measures, which are our finger to elbow-length gloves, just so they don't grab and take hold of our - or in this practises case - my arms. If the cat gets too out of hand...well, we do sedate, but it happens quite rarely. Believe it or not, my first patient today was a turtle, and I had to sedate him. It wasn't pretty, but his owner understood." She giggled nervously, unsure of how Mr. Gray would take that information.

Surely he didn't believe that she was some off-the-wall vet who put every animal through misery to treat them, right? She already had screwed it up with the one good looking client in the town. Shaking her head, the female looked back toward Mr. Gray. "But," she added cheerfully, looking as the Abyssinian wrapped his long tail around her monitor, "I don't believe we'll have to do that with him."

Blaire smiled and absent-mindedly stroked the tom's back. but pulled away suddenly, unsure of how the tomcat would respond to her touch. She sighed, and placed her hands in her lap, and thought about what Mr. Gray had said. "Well, it seems as if Neopolitain is suffering from anxiety, but I can't quite be sure. If he hasn't been eating when you're around...that does seem a little odd. Well, let's see how he reacts to this, shall we?" asked the female, getting a can of wet cat food, and placing it on the silver exam table.

The femme sat quite still, waiting hopefully, wondering what the cat was going to do. She wrung her hands together, and glanced nervously at the clock. At the rate this was going, the rest of her clients were probably wondering where she had gone. She swallowed nervously, and looked toward the Abyssinian, and back toward Mr. Gray. "Let's hope this works, eh?" Blaire mumbled.

"I'll be right back," said the vet, slipping out of the room quietly, hoping that the tom would begin to eat if she was not in the room watching him constantly. She slipped behind the desk and told the secretary that she would be another fifteen minutes or so, and then Blaire walked through to the rest of her clients and apologised to each of them individually, and told them she hoped they stayed. She also said that if there was a reason they needed to go, they could set up another appointment with the secretary and it would be half-priced. Even on days like most she wasn't this late.

She walked back down the corridor, her shoes squeaking along the way, and she slipped back into the exam room, hoping to see the cat bent over the food, eating. If so, there really wasn't much she could do, apart from telling Mr. Gray to spend some more time with him. Even so, she still had to take his temperature and his heart rate - and for that, she felt bad for the tomcat.

[BEVAN KRIS GRAY]

EVERY GESTURE,
EVERY MOVE THAT SHE MAKES

Bevan grimaced as she explained the procedures. "Well, seeing as how Neap's taken so well to you, I don't think any sedation will be necessary. Neap purred against Miss Leigh's touch, and looked eagerly down at where she had the cat food stored. Suffering from anxiety? Could the old tom really be missing him that much? Well, he was the only person that the cat got to see on a regular basis; if his owner didn't come home, then the cat would have spent an entire day alone in the apartment. Bevan hadn't thought about that.

Bevan watched curiously as the woman brought out a can of cat food. Sedating turtles? Goodness, he could never be any sort of doctor. All their work sounded vile to him; though he did have an appreciation for those that could stomach the work. Neapolitan stood, sniffing the cat food curiously. Bevan reached out and stroked his cat's tail, and the tom seemed to be forgiving him; his owner could just hear him giving out the slightest purr. The doctor suddenly remembered the other clients, and she excused herself from the room; he couldn't help himself as he watched her leave, and listened to her converse squeak down the hall before turning his attention back to Neapolitan.

The cat attacked the food, eating ravenously. Even though Bevan knew you weren't supposed to pet cats while they ate, he stroked the tom's tail, which seemed to make Neap even cheerier. Could the problem really just be lack of attention?

The vet returned, but the Abyssinian wasn't phased; he continued to shove the food down his throat until all was left was small remains - which he proceeded to lick. Only after the food was gone did Neap return his attention to the two humans, for which he purred and rubbed on both their hands.

His eyebrows raised, a slight grin rested on his lips. "Sedating turtles and stealing cats' love from their owners? What kind of practice are you running here, Miss Leigh?"

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[blaire anne leigh]

Walking in and finding the cat eating was as big of an achievement as winning a race. She felt a weight drop off her shoulders, and she instantly relaxed, glad to know that she had found the cat's problem, and therefore did not have to do further testing. She approached Neopolitain and gently patted the cat's head, and then turned to his owner, Mr. Gray. She showed her teeth as she smiled, and said brightly, "well, it looks as if I've found your problem. My solutions to the problem at large? Well, I suggest that you should go back to your apartment every night for a while. You see, cat's don't exactly enjoy their routine's becoming out of order, so that was his way of telling you that he missed you."

The female's eyes shone as she listened to the pretty tomcat purr and watched with amusement as he tried to gather every remaining piece of food in the can before the cat turned to watch them. "He seems to be a fairly attention-needing boy, so it's best that you don't mess with his schedule. I know, it sounds weird," said the veterinarian with a short laugh, "that we plan our schedules around our pet, but when they're the only one's we've got, it's necessary, in a way." Blaire furrowed her eyebrows and then looked quickly to Mr. Gray, a look of surprise on her face. "Oh! I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. My apologies." Who was she for assuming this man lived at home, alone? As far as she knew, he could be happily married. That was a bullocks thing for her to say and she instantly regretted it.

"Now, I'm sorry to have to do this..." she rolled up her sleeves, put on her rubber gloves, and grabbed the thermometer from the wall. She inserted the thermometer into the tom and when it chimed indicating it had recorded the information, she took it out and inspected the temperature. "It's a little low, but it's nothing too dreadful. I would assume it would go away; it's due to his lack of eating but if he has loose stool or if he starts vomiting, I would ask that you bring him back so we can do further tests."

She grabbed her stethoscope and proceeded to move it along the cat's body, listening to his heartbeat, counting his pulse. "Everything seems fine heart wise. It seems as if you've got quite the healthy cat, Mr. Gray," reported the veterinarian. She smiled and walked back to her desk, typing things into her macbook.

"Well," said Blaire, "I'm running a little late, and as bad as this sounds, I hope to not see you soon. Just keep an eye on him and make sure he's acting normal, and if anything else seems to seem weird, make an appointment anywhere and get him checked out, al-right? I suggest going home and giving him a nice meal and maybe a treat here or there. He doesn't seem to be needing any dietary supplements," remarked Blaire, looking at the somewhat skinny cat. But, she thought, that's what an Abyssinian is supposed to look like. Blaire walked toward the door, nodded at Mr. Gray and said thoughtfully, "Good luck with everything. You've got a wonderful pet there, lucky you are."

[BEVAN KRIS GRAY]

I DON'T KNOW WHY I INSTIGATE,
AND SAY WHAT I DON'T MEAN
breaking the habit, by linkin park

He would be lying to say that the comment did not sting; was he truly read so easily? He understood that the vet did not mean for the comment to be insulting, but nevertheless it stood out - mosty because he knew she was right, and he hated that fact. Looking at it from her perspective, he supposed he could see how she could assume that he was single, and living alone; he had a cat, for Christ's sakes, and wore no wedding ring.

"Don't apologize, you are not far from the truth," He said softly as she checked the Abyssinian's temperature and heart beat. Poor old boy, much too sensitive; just like your owner... He thought as the cat mewed to him once the woman inserted the thermometer. Bevan stroked his head, shrugging her comment away; why should he feel embarrassed about the fact that he lived alone? He had a business to run. He took notice that Miss Leigh also did not wear a ring, and she seemed near his age, maybe a little younger. Maybe she had made that comment thinking more about herself? He wanted to know more about her.

Bevan listened as she gave her diagnosis, his eyes watching her lips move but not really comprehending, his thoughts elsewhere. What he did hear, however, was the ending of their appointment. "That can't be all that is wrong with him." Bevan persisted; surely there was something seriously wrong with him. "There has to be something more; maybe he's suffering from clinical depression, or has fleas or intestinal issues. The person who gave him his last rabies shot was a bit sketchy; maybe the medicine was defective!" He continued; this couldn't be all that was wrong with his cat. Miss Leigh and him needed to sit down and talk it over some more - all for the sake of his Neap, of course.

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[blaire anne leigh]

Blaire laughed as she watched the owner struggle with her diagnosis. Obviously he thought something was much more wrong with his cat than she had spoken of, and she merely shook her head, her light blonde waves falling across her shoulders. "Really, Mr. Gray," explained the veterinarian, beginning to feel somewhat frustrated and helpless, "there's nothing seriously wrong with him, and that I can assure you." She felt bad for the stressed owner, in a way. I mean, he came all this way from London only to be told that his cat was suffering from anxiety.

She felt for him, really, she did; but there were patient clients out in the waiting room who were much more patient than the man who had approached her before his own appointment, asking when he was to be seen.

Sighing, she closed her eyes, and pointed toward the door, something starting to crack in the back of her mind. "Like I said, Mr. Gray, if something bad does happen within the next two or three days, just make an appointment to see myself or another veterinarian in the area, and they or I can run tests to see if there is something seriously wrong with him. But as of right now, I can honestly assure you that your cat is healthy enough. Now, if you really will excuse me, I have a waiting room full of other clients, and they have been patient enough with my tardiness for a while now. I really must see you out," said Blaire, frowning.

She gave the cat one last pat on the head and opened the solid wood door, holding it open so that her client would understand that he really did have to go. As much as she would love to stay and chat, she had work to do. She was sure that some of her clients had probably left, unhappy over her unusual lateness. She tried to offer up a smile for the man and his cat companion, but mustering one up wasn't exactly the easiest thing for her to do at the moment. She just didn't seem to understand why he was so worried about his cat's condition all of a sudden.

Poor things, thought the vet once more, at a loss for words for the two of them.