liesmith-loki:

Loki had settled on catnip.  It had been the first cat treat he’d seen at the pet store, and after staring at the rather staggering selection, he’d decided that it would be as good as any of the others.  Macrowafter had seemed to approve—he’d oozed down from Loki’s shoulder and onto his arm to sniff at the bag, and the busily was trying to disembowel it as Loki paid the clerk.

“No, Cat—not yet,” Loki said, putting the bag on a high shelf in the kitchen as Macrowafter hooked his claws into Loki’s ankle.  ”Eat your dinner first!”  Loki stepped out into the parlor, busying himself with closing curtains in that room and his bedroom before changing into a more comfortable pair of loose trousers and a dark green t-shirt.  

The sight that greeted him was unexpected—but only if one did not know what to anticipate when dealing with an acrobatic, resourceful, intelligent cat.   Macrowafter was stretched out on his back on the counter, paws waving at nothing, eyes wide—and he was covered in catnip.  The rest of it lay strewn everywhere on counter and floor, a green, pungent mess.  Macrowafter sort of rolled and then went still, staring at Loki out of eyes whose pupils had dilated almost beyond recognition.

Alarm consuming him, Loki scooped Cat up and was out of the flat like a shot, clattering down the stairs to bang on the door of a certain other flat.

A strangled yelp answered him, followed by what sounded like something hitting the floor hard and an outraged feline noise. “****, IT’S OPEN! Ow,” Summer yelled.