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It happens, like an alarming number of the unexpected adventures she’s had in her life, because of Veronica.
She and Wallace and Veronica go out for celebratory round of “yay you didn’t die” drinks and add a round of “your dad’s going to make a full recovery” drinks and then a round of “Mac quit her job” drinks, and then have a round of somber “more people in our class have been killed” drinks. Logan joins them, because, she suspects, he’s not going to leave Veronica’s side again until he’s forced to.
Some time after the drinks stop being attached to anything other than just drinking-with-friends drinks, Veronica swishes her glass and announces in the middle of Wallace’s tale of high school basketball mediocrity, “I wonder what’s going to happen to the cat.”
Logan turns pensive, and nods, and she and Wallace are just… In the dark. So she asks, “What cat?”
“Gia had a cat,” Veronica explains, and Mac winces. “I just - I wonder what’s going to happen to it.” She shrugs half heartedly, and redirects the conversation with a, “Sorry. What’s this about your point guard, Wallace?”
And that’s it. For the rest of drinks, there’s musings and laughter amid the short moments of silence that erupt from time to time, but no other mention of that damn cat.
Which is why Mac finds herself standing in front of the Neptune city pound, on a Saturday, at 8 o’clock in the morning, when she should be in bed sleeping off the slight pounding behind her eyes.
Because of Veronica, and this cat.
She doesn’t even know what the cat looks like, she grumbles to herself. The odds of her leaving the facility with the right abandoned cat are slim to none. She’s going to end up with some other cat - which is fine, except that isn’t why she couldn’t sleep last night and why she’s here this morning.
She’s here, this morning, to rescue Gia Goodman’s fucking cat, because Gia Goodman’s fucking cat has probably had a hard enough time with everything else to then end up in a shelter.
It’s just pure luck that the woman manning the desk recognizes her as Veronica’s friend, that this woman is a Veronica fan instead of the opposite. She knows how many people are the opposite, but Mandy introduces herself and rambles for a bit about Veronica and someone named Chester and how she wanted to go to the reunion to see Veronica but stayed away because -
“Neptune High sucked ass?” Mac ventures, and Mandy’s smile grows even wider.
“And I really didn’t think Veronica would be there,” Mandy tells her. “As much as I would have liked to rub how I’m not that ugly duckling anymore in Lenny Sofer’s face, I just didn’t want to end up feeling 17 again.”
“Valid,” Mac offers. “It pretty much sucked. Veronica set off the sprinklers though.”
Mandy sighs. “See? That’s so Veronica. I wish I could do things like that.”
Mac grins, and Mandy turns professional. Sits up straighter, and it suddenly occurs to her how tall this woman is, and how she probably was an ugly duckling in high school. How Veronica always seemed to step in and rescue those people. Make those people, specifically, feel seen. The people like her, and apparently Mandy.
“So, what brings you to our fine establishment?”
She bites her lip, shifts. “Gia Goodman,” she floats, and Mandy’s face shifts toward something resembling sympathy.
“Oh. You were friends?”
“No.” Mac shifts again. “Not exactly. But Veronica mentioned that she had a cat, and I just felt like -” She stops, and just makes a face.
It was - she’d quit her job, and explained to her parents, the parents she loved and who loved her, that the money wasn’t worth it and that she was going to work for a struggling private investigation outfit. She’d had to explain to the parents who had at times struggled and lived paycheck to paycheck that it was a good idea, to walk away from a sure thing.
It was - there was just this bundle of fur who had no idea why it wasn’t with its person anymore, who was probably scared and alone and wondering why its litter box wasn’t in the same place.
It was - Veronica, talking about this cat like she worried about it, because Veronica worried about strays, all kinds, even if she then decided to walk away.
“I don’t know how to explain it.”
But Mandy just nods. “Do you want to meet him?”
“Could I?”
“Sure,” Mandy tells her. “It’s right down this way.”
They walk a few steps in silence. Mac just concentrates mostly on the walking, but also on the pulsing happening in her skull and how she should have drank a bottle of water before bed - or hell, even after she’d gotten up. And then Mandy coughs and then says, “We haven’t had a lot of interest in him yet. And I still don’t know his name. None of the news reports seem interested in his story. Poor little guy.”
“How did you get into this line of work?” Mac forces herself to ask, and Mandy blushes.
“Oh, this is just my weekend job. I run a dog sitting business normally. You know, the 09ers like to have a place to leave their dogs that caters to their interests when they’re on vacation or at work. But these guys need love too.”
“Yeah,” Mac says. “I can see the appeal.”
Mandy stops and bends down at a crate. “Here’s the little man. Come on Mr. Fluffers,” she coos, “there’s someone who wants to meet you.”
“Mr. Fluffers?” Mac asks, and Mandy shrugs, arm full of cat.
“Like I said, he came in with no name, and I couldn’t stand to just call him Cat. So, Mr. Fluffers.” She holds out Mr. Fluffers. “Would you like to hold him?”
It would be ridiculous, Mac thinks, to come all this way this early in the morning and then not hold the cat. Even though the cat looks as unsure about this situation as Mac is. So she throws out her arms, and Mandy gently deposits Mr. Fluffers into them. Who settles down immediately and starts purring.
“How is that fair?” she murmurs to him. “How can you be doing this to me?”
“He likes you,” Mandy tell her, grinning at the two of them, and Mac smiles back at her.
Mr. Fluffers purrs louder when she starts scratching him behind his ear, and the pulsing-pounding sensation she’s been battling all morning fade slightly. He snuggles his head beneath her chin, and she sighs.
“Are you looking to adopt?” Mandy ventures, and Mac groans.
“I don’t know. My life’s kind of up in the air at the moment, and I just - I don’t even know what I was thinking, coming here.”
“Maybe,” Mandy offers, in a sage wisdom kind of way Mac is positive she uses all the time, “you knew you needed to love something that needs your love.”
“Yeah,” Mac says, shifting the cat, “that’s the kind of zen philosophy that doesn’t work for me.”
Mandy raises an eyebrow. “Alright. I’m not pressuring you into anything here. It’s worse for me if you take a cat you don’t want. There’s a room you can hang out with Mr. Fluffers in for a little bit, and see if you guys mesh. And you can think it over, but if someone else comes looking to adopt him, I won’t hold him based on your maybe.”
Mac squeezes the cat in response to that, who gives the tiniest yowl in response. “Yeah,” she says, “I’ll sit with him for a while.”
Which is how she ends up in a white, cinderblock room, with an orange cat playing with her shoe laces.
“This week is not turning out at all like I expected,” she tells the cat conversationally, and he flops over onto her feet and stares up at her. “You’re coming home with me, aren’t you?”
The cat doesn’t offer anything else. He just keeps staring at her with his golden eyes.
“Okay, if you’re going to come home with me, there are a few ground rules,” Mac tells him. “First things first - you’re getting a new name. I’m not having a cat named Mr. Fluffers. And you can’t be shredding everything or peeing everywhere. I don’t know how Gia did it, but we’re going to do things my way. Also, I’d prefer if you didn’t flop onto my laptop.”
The cat blinks at her.
“Don’t be acting coy with me. I’ve seen Youtube videos. I’ve seen the gifs. I know what you guy like to do. I need my coding to remain pristine. I need my hacking to remain uncompromised. Got it?”
Not-Mr. Fluffers rubs himself further onto her legs, and chirps.
“Damn it.” She stands up, snags the cat, and opens the door.
“Mandy,” she calls, “I think I’m ready to take him home.”
~~~
Mandy’s excitement levels are a little too high for Mac on a normal day, let alone a hangover day, but she grimaces through her explanations about the paperwork as Mac works on filling out her basic information, the need for an adoption fee, and how glad she is that Mac and Mr. Fluffers found each other.
She hesitates when she gets to the line for his name. Fills in “Ivo”. Glances apologetically at Mandy, who is chattering to Ivo in his new cat carrier about how happy he’s going to be in his new home.
“You guys take credit cards, right?” she asks eventually, and Mandy holds out her hand.
“Yeah,” she replies as she pulls out the machine. “We’ll take anything, as long as it’s money.” She laughs at her own joke, and Mac stares.
“It’s going to be a 56 dollar adoption fee. But Mr. -” Mandy glances at the paperwork, “Ivo here is up to date on all of his shots.”
Mac signs the paperwork, and the receipt, and Mandy hands her the carrier and the somewhat distressed cat within it. Mandy sees her off with a, “Maybe soon, you’ll come back and find Mr. Ivo a friend!”
Mac nods at her, says, “Maybe” when she means she’d rather rot in hell, and carts Ivo out to her car.
Ivo starts yowling up a storm when she deposits him in the backseat, and she starts worrying immediately about this decision.
“Listen,” she tells the cat sharply, “I have nothing for you at the apartment. I did not anticipate walking out of there with a cat today, so you have no food, no litter box, no toys. We need to make at least one stop to rectify that, and you’re just going to have to deal with it. Okay?”
Ivo does not deal with it.
She stops at Petsmart because it’s conveniently located between her apartment and the pound, even though she’d been heading to Animal Fair before Ivo’s protests became too much for her to handle.
“You’d better appreciate this,” she mumbles to the cat, vaguely aware of the people around her. “I’m about to spend money at a chain store for you.”
She flags down some poor soul in blue and demands to be helped.
“I know nothing about cat care,” she tells the guy, as Ivo makes it clear how true that is from his carrier. “I need food that he’ll eat, and litter and a box and some toys that cats like.”
The guy - Michael - runs her through what seems like a lot more than just the basics. She ends up buying expensive dry cat food - “without any animal byproducts or corn”, Michael informs her; expensive wet cat food - “they should have a steady diet of both to stay healthy”; expensive as fuck litter - “no clay is better for cats than clay”; a litter box with a door - no explanation as to why; a cat tree; a scratching post; and about 10 pounds of cat toys. She gets up to the register, and the girl there - Linda - convinces her that she also needs cat treats. Her hangover headache returns and brings some friends along as she watches the total increase, all while Ivo wails from his confines.
“If you don’t eat this food,” she warns Ivo, “I am going to rethink my whole position on cruelty to animals.”
They finally make it home, she and Ivo and all of Ivo’s supplies, and she releases the door to the carrier after she sets up his litter box and fills a bowl full of food for him and another one full of water and gets a glass of water for herself.
He gingerly steps out, and pokes his head around the side. Mac grins as he walks slowly and carefully, taking in his new surroundings.
“It’s not your old home,” she tells him, “but we’ll make it work.”
The wave of affection she feels as Ivo peruses his cat tree is unexpected. She bats at the string attached, and watches as he attacks it with vigor. Pulls out her phone, and snaps his picture, and then pulls up Veronica’s name.
“‘Lo?” Veronica answers.
Mac smiles. “Hey, Veronica.”
“It’s early,” she hears fuzzily on the other end.
“It’s not that early,” she says.
Veronica snorts. “I haven’t gotten drunk in like two semesters. It’s early. Tell me you have a reason for calling me.”
Mac grins as she hears “whoisit?” on the other end, and asks, “Veronica Mars, do you have a guy in your room?”
“Technically, it’s his room,” she answers. Mac hears her tell Logan who it is. “I’m still not hearing a reason for this, which makes me think I’m going to have to rescind my offer of employment and also set you up for a crime that will send you away for a long time.”
“Oh, don’t do that,” Mac teases, “or else you’re going to end up a kitten foster parent.”
“What?” Veronica’s confusion is palpable, and she resists the urge to keep this whole conversation as vague as possible.
“I adopted a cat today,” Mac tells her. “And it’s all your fault.”
“What?” Veronica screeches, and Mac’s grin grows wider as she throws a ball with a bell for Ivo to chase.
“Gia Goodman’s cat. I adopted him. You don’t have to worry about his fate any more, because he’s landed at casa de Mackenzie.”
Ivo bats the ball around the living room as silence grows on the other end of the phone line. She watches as he loses the ball under her Ikea couch.
“Mac - I - do you like cats?”
“I didn’t know,” she answers. “The Mackenzies are historically allergic to cats and dogs and, strangely, guinea pigs. But, as I am Mackenzie in name and familial ties only, I figured I’d give it a shot. I met your friend Mandy, too.”
“Wow,” Veronica says. “You’ve had a busy morning. What’s his name?”
“Ivo,” she answers, and grins. “Wanna have a girls night in some night this week? Watch a bunch of foreign films with some wine and cheese and my new cat?”
“Sounds like a plan, Mac Attack,” Veronica laughs, and Mac warms at the sound of her old nickname. “I”m going to roll back over now. I’ll come and meet Ivo later, and discuss with him his mother’s penchant for Italian cinema.”
“Hey, Veronica,” Mac says as Ivo jumps up next to her, pawing at her arm and mewing, “I’m glad you’re home.”
“Thanks, Mac,” Veronica answers. “I am too.”
“Come on, Ivo,” she tells her cat after she puts down her phone, “let’s rescue your ball.”