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Hey Peoples,

So, I was making some cookies, and I ran into a bit of a problem. Who knew that 4 dozen really meant 46? I kinda accidentally made a few dozen dozen cookies, and I need some help eating them. You all will help a sister out, right?

Love ya!

Roxy

PS. Ignore the burning smell. It will go away.

(If one were to shift the cookies around, a person would notice a pile of black, charred hunks suitable only for use as hockey pucks under the first layer of edible cookies.)

((These are magical cookies with random, non-fatal results. Effects and duration are up to the muns involved.))

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Light pierced the gloom around her, only to be replaced by a looming shadow. Her hindbrain sent panic signals through her body: danger above something swooping down

Instinctively she hissed and slashed out at the thing above her with her bared ... claws?

Her surprise at the claws was quickly replaced by satisfaction at dragging them through the attacker.

"Ouch!" Grant cried. He pulled his hand back and sucked on his finger. The cut wasn't deep, but whatever was in there was very, very sharp.

This time the response came from her forebrain: Alan? The sound of his voice sent a flood of emotions through her: guilt, embarrassment, and relief.

She took advantage of the shifting of fabric his movements had caused and wriggled free of her blouse, mewling plaintively.

Had she had a mirror handy, she would've seen herself looking like this -

It wasn't funny. It really, really wasn't. But seeing a confused cat face pop out of the blouse, followed by the rest of the animal, was too much. Grant tried to hide his smile behind his hand, but the snickers were hard to miss.

"What did I tell you about eating random food?" he asked, holding out his other hand for the cat to sniff. "I'd say you got what you deserve, kitty."

A flash of anger shot through Laura at being laughed at, until Grant called her 'kitty.' Realization dawning, she twisted around at an impossible angle to survey her furry torso and fluffy tail, and she meowed in horror.

Then she turned her attention back to Grant, instinctively nosing at his open hand to memorize his scent - stomach quailing slightly at the faint lupine undertones - and butted her head into the curve of his palm, rubbing slightly to mark him with her own scent.

She noticed the small scratches on his finger. Contrite, she lapped at the wounds with a tiny, sandpapery tongue.

"Don't do that," he said, drawing his hand away. "Who knows what you could get from me." Instead, he scratched her behind the ears, them ran his hand down to the base of her tail. "It looks like you've got yourself a bit of a problem."

Laura purred at the ear scratch and shivered, tail twitching, when he passed his hand down her body. {God, is *that* what that feels like?}

She stared up at him, then cautiously picked her way out of the pile of clothing and turned in a circle to survey the mess. She flicked her eyes helplessly from Grant to Honor and Nimitz and back to Grant again.

"Oh, dear," said Honor (as she was wont to do in these situations). She noticed the number of large feet in the room that could conceivably inconvenience such a small cat. "If there are no objections, I think that perhaps we should get Laura out of here before someone steps on her."

She picked up the little cat. Nimitz leaned down to sniff her and stroked her head with one hand. I think she's very cute.

"Can you understand me?" Honor asked Laura-cat. "Would you like to go back to Gryffindor?"

Laura arched up to meet Nimitz' nose. Hi Nimitz. Can you hear me now that I'm like this?

To Honor, she nodded yes to understanding, but just mewed sadly at the idea of Gryffindor. She looked over to Grant with big sad blue eyes and hoped he'd catch on.

Grant scratched Laura behind the ears when she mewed at him. "Maybe somewhere more private would be better? I have my own quarters, and I can send my house elf out if we need anything."

Laura purred at the scratching. Oh...We really have to do that more often, she thought. Her whiskers twitched and she meowed eagerly at Grant.

"What, is that a yes for my place, or do you just want me to keep petting you?" He moved his attention down to the base of her tail. "We really need to work out a better system of non-verbal communication."

Her hindquarters arched at his scratching. Ohh God, she thought. I'm going to have to remember this experience when I'm petting, say, Skimbleshanks.

She blinked once and meowed again, not sure how to communicate with Grant in this state.

"Nimitz says she's enjoying the scratching very much," said Honor. "She'd like to leave, but hasn't expressed an opinion on where to go. Can you find out, Stinker?"

Nimitz's whiskers twitched in amusement. Gryffindor or Grant's place? You're really very cute, he thought at Laura-cat.

Nimitz, remember you're spoken for, Laura teased. Grant's place. This might be just what we need to get that spat made up.

She mewed and batted a paw at Nimitz's nose, then arched forward toward Grant.

Grant's place, Nimitz told Honor, playfully wrestling with Laura.

"Your place, Dr. Grant," said Honor aloud. "Would you two stop wriggling, please?"

Laura giggled at Honor's scolding tone and her play-fight with the treecat. She's a bossy one, isn't she? Then again, I guess she didn't get where she is in the military being shy and retiring...

You have no idea, said Nimitz dryly. But actually, she was fairly shy in social situations for a long time. Would have preferred a battle to a party. I taught her better. This Grant person has a nice mind glow.

Happens that way sometimes, people get so good and so wrapped up in their work they don't know how to be outside of it. I'm glad she has you to keep her level, Laura replied. I can't sense this mind-glow like you can, but I've always felt safe and, I don't know, just *good* somehow when I'm with him. Is that what trusting someone's like, you think?

"Very well, then." He held out his hand to Honor. "I don't believe we've met, although I met your cat once. My name's Alan Grant." He looked down at the two animals. "How is it that you can understand what she's saying?"

Honor shifted Laura-cat into the crook of one arm and shook Dr. Grant's hand. "Hello, I'm Honor Harrington. While I can't understand her directly, Nimitz can, and I can communicate with him. You teach Care of Magical Creatures, do you not?"

"I do." He watched Honor carry Laura. "Would you like a hand?"

"As a matter of fact, I would," said Honor as Nimitz and Laura flat-out refused to stop playing, and it was starting to get her off-balance. "Quit that, Stinker. Once we get someplace less dangerous, the two of you can romp to your hearts' content." She carefully handed Laura-cat off to Grant.

Laura purred happily when Grant's hands closed around her, and meowed a goodbye to Nimitz. Then she looked up at Grant and twitched her tail.

"I think that's settled, then," he said, taking the white cat. "I assume you're coming with us, Ms. Harrington, but I don't want to be rude." He started to pet Laura again, and felt vaguely like a Bond villain.