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Another day, another city. He's not sure how long he'll be in this one - weeks, maybe a month or two, if he's lucky. He hasn't been lucky for a half-year or so now, but there's nothing to do about that except stay ready, and move when he needs to.

He'd picked the apartment because it was high up in the building. He prefers it that way; it lets him watch from various angles and lines of sight when he needs to, and gives him quick access to the roof and escape.

Not that he can see much from inside at the moment, of course, having just finished taping newspaper -- multiple thicknesses -- over the windows. It helps; the lines of text and distortion of blurry newsprint photos disguise any shadows that he might cast from within.

James takes a moment to look around. It's got everything he needs; sleeping bag unrolled on the cheap mattress in the corner, the windows (now covered), washroom no bigger than a closet, kitchenette barely bigger than that, even complete with the unimaginable luxury of a full-size fridge...

... ah. Food. Right.

He's not hungry, but food's the fuel that's necessary to keep going. It's too late to go to the market now, though. Instead, he goes to the apartment door, and opens it into Milliways.

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"That's what matters."

He finishes with the cat food and eyes Jonathan for a moment. Mentally, he shrugs, and then takes the meat in his left hand and holds it down toward the wolverine.

(If something goes wrong, it's the hand less likely to be injured - obviously.)

Jonathan grumbles again, looks at X, looks at the cats, then pads his way forward -- claws clicking against the kitchen floor -- and delicately sinks his teeth into the edge of the steak farthest from James' hand.

Then he drags it into the farthest kitchen corner and goes to town.

X may, at that, make a muffled sound that almost counts as a laugh. Ish.

He slants a look at her.

"Something funny?"

But there's a hint of what might be humor lurking underneath his words. Only a hint, as though unused to existing ... but it's there.

X looks back at him, something a little crooked hiding at one corner of her mouth.

(Maybe it's a smile?)

"Many people are certain that I have no sense of humor."

So. Yes.

He grunts.

"Many people don't know what they're looking at when it's right in front of them."

X considers this for a moment.

"I mind. When it is my friends."

And that, of course, is when there is a loud clatter from the bedroom, where Steve McQueen has finally worked the window screen free and begun his first successful escape attempt in months.

He whirls at the sound, half into a fighting crouch as he checks the room for threats--

-- but nothing's immediately visible, and it's not his world or his apartment. He shoots a quick glance at Joe, ready to back her move, whatever it is.

X freezes for a moment, scenting the air and listening intently for the sound of heartbeats and deep breaths.

And after a moment --

She exhales. Heavily.

"I bought new screens. For the windows. Steve McQueen has been displeased."

Beat.

"I will have to find him. Now."

Oh Steve.

Your Great Escape was probably long overdue.

Clearly.

"I'll help." A second to think, then,

"You go down, I'll go up? In case he headed for the roof."

"Sensible," X agrees promptly.

"There are keys. On the hook. By the door."

Beat.

"Blue rubber is for the roof exit."

And, because she is X and is mission-prepared at all times --

She'll hand him a tiny yellow and black earpiece, as well.

He gives her a look, but fits the earpiece to his right ear without hesitation.

If they're splitting up, they're going to need communication, after all.

"Better secure these two first," he adds, nodding at Farrah and Jonathan. "Or we'll be looking for three runaways."

"I will secure the screens," X agrees.

"Jonathan will keep Farrah contained."

(Farrah is a homebody who dislikes the size of the sky. This helps.)

"You will tell me what you see? From the roof."

"Yes."

He heads for the door, snagging the keys on the way.

It's a big world out there, and for all Steve McQueen's an escape artist, he's still a little cat.

Little, but fierce. Or at least wily.

There is no sign of him on the roof, though on a fire escape two buildings away . . . .

X, meanwhile, re-affixes the screens in place, sets Jonathan to guard Farrah, and makes her way down the stairs and out the front door.

If she were a cat . . . where would she go?

He opens the rooftop door with care, securing it shut behind him, and scans the roof with fierce intent.

There's no sign of the little gray cat, not up this far, anyway. James goes to the edge of the roof just over the window and looks down, more than slightly concerned that Steve McQueen might have gotten stuck midway, or fallen, or ....

No cat clinging desperately to the building, and no cat in sight on the ground, either.

He walks the perimeter on all sides just to be sure, then touches the earpiece.

"Building's clear. Need to spread out."

"Acknowledged."

X moves out the front door, walking around her building until she reaches the side with the window Steve McQueen exited from.

Her nostrils flare as she scents the air, but --

"He has not touched the ground. I cannot smell him here."

Not down, then, and not up, which leaves --

James returns to the original point above the window and starts scanning around for anything that would be near enough for an agile feline to jump to.

"-- to the right. Two buildings over. Fire escape."

X makes an irritated noise in her throat.

"Understood. You can reach?"

She's already moving in that direction, looking for the closest dumpster that will let her reach the pulled-up fire escape ladder.

"I will come up, too. From below. I do not know if he will be fooled by a pincer."

"I can. He might be startled if he notices --"

He's already moving, strides lengthening into a run across the rooftop, then up and over to the next building. He tucks and rolls through the landing, then picks up the pace a second time.

"It helps if you talk. To him. High-pitched."

X takes her own running jump, leaping up onto the half-closed lid of the dumpster and grabbing the first fire escape platform and pulling herself up.

Climbing the building wall may actually be quieter than using the stairs. Hmm.

"He likes that."

"... you've got to be kidding me." A beat. "I'll leave that part to you."

He approaches the top of the fire escape with care, making no sudden movements that might alert the feline below.

"It is useful with babies. And small children," X offers, clinging to rough brickwork and making her way up the wall.

(Spider-man would be proud.)

"Too. Practice helps."

Steve McQueen, meanwhile, lolls out on the fire escape, absorbing every particle of heat in the metal and in the sun shining directly on this spot.

Heaven.

"Looks like the little guy's taking a nap."

Descend from above or stay where he is and adapt if the cat flees? Hard to say. He settles for easing over the parapet wall and onto the top of the fire escape, stopping on the first platform.

"Keep watching."

Beat.

"Please."

There's no grunt of effort in her voice. Shockingly.

"I will be there soon."

Edited 2017-03-16 22:39 (UTC)

"Confirmed."

Steve McQueen doesn't seem alarmed, and from this vantage point he has an excellent line of sight in case of unexpected events.

Edited 2017-03-23 04:18 (UTC)

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