Title: Every (Dog) Has It's Day
By: weirdbagel
Rating: G to PG
Pairing: David/Greg
Warnings: Tons of cuteness
Disclaimer: I don't even own my own underwear...
Summary: This one is for tinkyboo who asked for: "Kitties!!!!! Please write something with David and Nick or David and Greg and a kitten or two or three." ( I went with David and Greg cos you said I had a choice and David/Greg is so my forte :P)

David was home before Greg... again. It seemed like that had been happening a lot lately. It wasn't really Greg's fault or anything, this kind of stuff happened in his line of work. It wasn't like you could plan for a double homicide an hour before shift ended. Though, David suspected, Greg would have probably tried to go on the case anyway, even if his shift was over. Greg was like that, and David respected that, though sometimes it felt like he still had his own apartment, instead of sharing one with a lover.

He hit the power button on the stereo sitting atop the small entertainment center housing the TV. He opened up the disk changer and pulled out a couple of Greg's CD's. Tool and Rammstein. He rolled his eyes. Honestly, he felt like he was dating a teenager sometimes. He placed the disk's inside the CD case that sat on one of the speakers and pulled out a mix CD. Some band sampler that had been sitting in the back of the case until David discovered it a few days earlier.

He put it in and closed the changer. The ethereal Brit-rock (Placebo was it?) filled the apartment as he shrugged off his zip-up sweater and tossed it on the couch. He made his way into the kitchen, humming softly with the song as he retrieved a glass from the cabinet and poured himself a soda. He might as well at least try to have something ready to eat by the time Greg got home. (Provided he came home at all.)

Frozen ravioli in a bag. Not exactly homemade, but he rather didn't want to expend too much energy on a meal that may or may not get eaten. He stared at his soda a moment, then promptly dumped it into the sink and reached for the Chianti. Hey, if he were going to end up eating alone, he might as well enjoy it.

The pasta was almost done (much like his first glass of wine) when Greg finally burst into the apartment. David glanced around at him, using the remote control on the counter to turn down the stereo before sliding back over to tend to his meal. "Hey Greg!" He called, stirring the ravioli. An inevitable smile crossed his mouth, joy from being knowing he wasn't going to be alone this time.

"Hey babe." Greg replied as he entered the kitchen, planting a gentle hello-kiss on David's cheek. David glanced at his boyfriend a moment, then suddenly noticed the large box in his arms.

"What's-" David's inquiry was cut off by a tiny mewl. His eyes widened. "You didn't."

Greg only grinned and set the box down on the empty counter space.

David quickly shut off the stove and turned his full attention to the box. "Greg... Please tell me you didn't."

"Hey. You said I could, before work." Greg defended, prying open the lid of the holed box. A small, fuzzy black head poked out, bright blue eyes immediately darting around for the source of the wonderful scents tickling it's small, pink nose. "Remember?"

"No... I remember saying we'd discuss getting a- oh my god there's more?!" David was shocked, as sure enough, two more tiny, furry heads peered over the edge of the box.

"Well, I couldn't exactly separate Minerva from them!" Greg said casually as he picked the black one out and cuddled her to his chest. "They are her siblings after all."

"You've named them already?!" David gave one final, exasperated sigh. He knew that Greg had reached the moment of no return. The same thing had happened when he'd grabbed that one patch-work bear out of the discount bin at the grocery store and carried it with him the whole time. Half-way through shopping he'd decided to name it Fleck and, in the end, he couldn't bring himself to put the little guy back. "Fine... But you get to do the litterbox..." David surrendered, watching as he greyish brown one managed to tumble the box over, promptly flinging his poor brown-black-and-white-stripped sister out onto her front. David snorted a little at the bewildered look the little blue-eyed fluff-ball gave him. Okay, so maybe they were a little bit too adorable. He reluctantly reached out and plucked the irritated little tabby off the counter, rescuing her from her rambunctious brother who was currently trying to eat her tail. "Who is this?"

Greg smiled. "She doesn't have a name." He reached out and grabbed the boy kitten, carrying them both into the living room. "I was saving her for you..."

David blinked and looked down at the fuzzy kitten, who peered up at him, head tilted to the side. "I'm David." He answered her, though he wasn't even sure that was the question she wished to ask. It must have been, because she wriggled around in his arms a bit until she was apparently comfortable and snuggled in for a nap. He smiled a little and followed Greg, who was now sitting on the floor, laughing as Minerva attacked his shoelaces and her brother wrestled with his hand.

David chose to carefully plop down on the sofa. He lowered the blue-eyed tabby onto his lap, though not without a slightly agitated glare from his sleepy kitty. He smiled and rubbed her head apologetically. She turned her head and began lapping roughly at his palm, though he wasn't sure if that was out of forgiveness, or the pasta. "So, where exactly did you get Minerva and..."

"Apollo." Greg grinned at the roll of David's eyes. "This crimescene cleaner, Antony, Zero's friend, his cat had kittens and he had three more to give away."

"So you've had this planned for a while..." David glared.

"Maybe, just a little bit." Greg admitted, watching as Apollo snuck around his leg and jumped on Minerva from behind.

They watched the kittens flop about on the floor for a moment or two, then Greg looked back to David, who was running a hand gently over his kittens soft coat. "What are you gonna name her?"

David shrugged, looking down at the slumbering cat. He thought a minute, then smiled. "Diana."

"I thought that's what you'd pick." Greg teased.

"Oh, you so did not." David rejected, moving Diana off his lap and onto the cushion next to him.

"Did too!" Greg defended.

"Whatever." David stood and made his way back to the kitchen to serve the pasta before it got too cold. Greg followed soon after, arguing the whole time as he helped.

Diana lifted her head off the sofa and glanced around with a wide yawn. She watched the two humans clink around in the kitchen for a while, then turned her attention to her brother and sister and their spirited battle over a piece of lint one of them had found. Uninteresting. She repositioned herself, rolling around on the couch until she found a suitable dip in which to curl up in. The blond one may have been a little too noisey, but the dark-haired one with the yummy-tasting hands was quite tolerable. She was going to like it here.