New
Arrivals
Author-Suzie
Titles
Figaro vs the Tree
by Suzie
Summary: The title says it all. #5 in the I Want a Pet series.
Disclaimer: Some of the characters in this story belong to the UPN Network and Pet Fly Productions as part of the television show The Sentinel. I do not claim these characters as my own. No money has changed hands.
Notes: Thank you oh wise and wonderful Beta Beast! I humbly bow in your presence. In this universe, Jim’s Sentinel abilities enable him to understand and talk to animals.
For every year the Christmas tree,
Brings to us all both joy and glee.
O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree,
Much pleasure doth thou bring me!
######
“Get the big ones that stay on, not those little sissy things that blink incessantly,” Jim growled.
Jim and Blair were at Fred Meyer’s buying a few decorations before going to the lot across the street to buy a Christmas tree.
“They don’t *blink*, Jim, they *twinkle*,” Blair corrected.
“Whatever, Chief, just get the strings with the big bulbs… okay?”
“No problem, big guy,” Blair grinned. “Garland or tinsel?”
“Garland… not as messy.”
“Ornaments?”
“There’s a ton of those stored downstairs. Carolyn didn’t take any of the Christmas stuff when she left.”
Blair picked up an ornament. It was a black and white kitten wearing a santa hat and playing with a roll of red ribbon. It had the year printed on it. “Jim, Figaro’s first Christmas.”
Jim smiled and nodded, holding out the small shopping basket he was carrying. “Okay, let’s go pick out a tree.”
**********
“Okay, Jim, you should be able to just push it through the door now,” Blair said from inside the loft.
What the heck are they doing now? Figaro wondered from his place on the pillows of Blair’s bed. The black and white cat yawned, stretching as he stood.
“I still say this tree is too tall, Sandburg,” Jim grumbled from the hallway. “Pull on it… it’s not moving.”
“Okay,” Blair grinned. He grabbed hold of the trunk and tugged on it.
Figaro jumped off the bed and padded out into the dinning room. Whoa, what’s going on here?! The cat ducked under a chair at the table and watched with wide eyes.
“Wait a sec… I think it’s hung up on something,” Blair called. He crawled underneath the tree a bit and found the offending branch. “Jim, lift your right foot, man. You’re standing on a branch,” he giggled.
“Ah… well, that explains that,” Jim said with a smile in his voice as he lifted his foot.
What the heck is that… and what is it doing to my Master?! Figaro thought, letting a tentative meow out.
There was a rustling of pine needles as Jim began to push on the tree again.
“Jim!” Blair yelled from under the tree. “Jim, wait! I’m still down here!”
That thing is eating my Master! Figaro cried in dismay. He charged over to the back of the sofa, readying himself to spring to his Master’s aid.
“Sorry, Chief, are you all right?” Jim called.
“Yeah, just give me a second.” Blair scooted out from under the tree and stood up. “Okay, let’s do this.”
Whew! He got away from it! Figaro thought as he relaxed slightly. Now get that thing out of here!
There was a scrapping sound as the tree was pushed and pulled into the loft at last.
Oh my God! Figaro jumped off the sofa and crawled underneath it. What are they doing bringing it in here?!
**********
“Figaro, come on out of there,” Blair coaxed gently, peering under the sofa. “What’s the matter with you?”
“He doesn’t like the tree, Chief,” Jim explained. “He thinks it was trying to eat you when we were trying to bring it in.”
“Oh, you’re kidding,” Blair laughed, sitting up on his knees.
“No, he’s pretty upset about it,” Jim said, examining the lights and ornaments as he took them out of the storage box.
“Figaro, the tree was *not* trying to eat me. We were just bringing it inside. It’s a Christmas tree… it can’t hurt anyone.”
A small black head popped out from under the sofa and looked from Blair to Jim. Are you sure?
“Yeah, Fig, we’re sure. Trees don’t attack people,” Jim said with a grin.
Figaro pulled himself out of his hiding place and sniffed the heavy pine scent in the air. He edged closer to the tree where it stood in its stand in front of the balcony. Figaro carefully sniffed his way around the stand, the water in the stand, and the tree trunk. He still didn’t trust it. He sniffed the branches and sneezed when one of the needles poked him in the nose. Figaro looked quickly from Blair to Jim and back again. Did you see that?! It tried to grab me! He growled and hissed, batting at the offending branch.
Blair laughed and picked the black and white cat up, snuggling him to his chest. “Oh, Figaro, it’s just a tree. An inanimate object. It’s harmless.” Blair sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the sofa with Figaro in his arms.
The cat huffed and puffed indignantly, but remained securely within his Master’s arms. A tree he says! It can’t hurt me he says! It tried to take my nose off for crying out loud! Figaro glowered at tree for a minute. What the heck is a tree anyway?
“Hey, I thought this was going to be a group project, Chief,” Jim said as he began to string the lights on the tree.
Blair smiled and set Figaro up on the sofa. “I’m coming.”
And so they spent the rest of the afternoon trimming the tree and decorating the loft.
Figaro stayed on the sofa, watching the tree for any signs of attack.
“See, I told you it wasn’t too tall,” Blair said proudly, placing the star on the top as Jim steadied him on the stepladder. “Now, all we have to do is set the timer so they come on at dusk.”
“Do we really need the timer, Chief?” Jim sighed, looking at the device he held.
“Yeah, that way the lights will come on even if we aren’t here.”
All night, the black and white guardian watched the tree. Pacing around it, whacking at the ornaments that hung from the lower branches, just daring the tree to make its move. It was just a matter of time.
**********
Blair staggered groggily out of his bedroom and into the bathroom. When he came out, all showered and shaved, Jim had a cup of coffee poured for him.
“Fig sleep with you last night?” Jim asked.
Blair shrugged, taking a sip of the hot, black liquid. “He wasn’t there when I fell asleep.”
Jim stared at Figaro, who was lying wide awake on the back of the sofa. “That’s where he was when I went to bed. He hasn’t moved since I came down.”
Blair set his mug on the table and walked over to the black and white cat. “I hope he’s not sick.” Blair ran a hand over the silky fur on Figaro’s head and back.
The cat purred loudly and leaned into the hand, but didn’t look up at his Master.
Blair looked up at the tree. “Jim, did you see this?”
“What’s that?” Jim asked from the kitchen where he was slicing a banana onto a piece of toast that he’d spread peanut butter on.
“He’s knocked nearly all of the ornaments off from around the bottom of the tree!”
“I told you he doesn’t like the tree.” Jim placed another piece of toast with peanut butter on top of the bananas. “I’ll take care of the ornaments before I leave. Come on, you’re going to be late for that faculty meeting you said you had this morning.”
Blair gasped and looked at his watch. “Damn!” He rushed to his room and grabbed his backpack.
As he passed the kitchen, Jim thrust the peanut butter and banana on toast sandwich into Blair’s hands. “Thanks, Jim,” he smiled, snatching his coat off its hook and picking his keys up out of the basket.
“No problem, Chief. See you later at the station?” Jim said, opening the door for the harried grad student.
“Yeah, I’ll meet you for lunch at 12:30.”
“Okay, drive safe,” Jim called after his Guide before closing the door. He turned towards the living room with a sigh. “Now, as for you,” Jim said to Figaro. “I hope this isn’t going to become a nightly habit?”
Figaro huffed at the big man as he went around the tree re-hanging the fallen ornaments.
**********
It was quiet in the loft, as it always was after the humans left for the day. Figaro felt it was safe to sleep, now that he didn’t have to protect his people until later. He padded his way up the stairs to Jim’s room for a snooze. From there, Figaro would hear the tree if it decided to move around the apartment while he slept, and there’d be plenty of time to react.
The day passed quietly and the tree stayed in its stand in the living room. But there were several occasions when Figaro heard a rustling sound, as if it were trying to move without being noticed. Each time, he would peer down trough the iron railing, but the tree was careful and wouldn’t dare move while being watched. Figaro noted that the rustling sound coincided with the warm air maker coming on. Maybe trees get cold and it’s trying to move closer to the heat like I do sometimes.
The day was just turning to dusk when the tree made its move.
Figaro stood on the big bed and stretched lazily and adjusted his vision to the dimming light in the loft. It was time to eat and he was hungry, but his humans weren’t home yet. Figaro sighed and thought, I guess I’ll just have to snack on the crunchy stuff until Master gets here.
Jumping off the bed, Figaro had started down the stairs when he heard something click softly. A moment later the loft was flooded with colorful lights. Figaro growled, crouching to slink down the remaining stairs to take up a position behind the sofa.
Figaro peered around the end of the sofa at the *menacing* tree with its bright lights and shiny ornaments. It had obviously waited all day, knowing the black and white cat’s people would be home soon. Well, you’re not going to get a second chance at eating my Master!
**********
Jim followed Blair into the parking lot and took the spot next to the Volvo to park his truck. They walked together into the building, bantering as to whose turn it was to fix dinner. When they got inside, Blair pushed the button for the elevator.
“It is not my turn to make dinner, Sandburg!” Jim argued. “I did dinner last night, remember?”
“Jim, heating leftovers and making a salad is *not* making dinner!” Blair chuckled. “Especially when the leftovers are from the dinner *I made* the night before, besides…” He looked up at his friend and immediately fell silent at the familiar look on the Sentinel’s face. “Jim, what is it?”
“It’s Fig… there’s something wrong. He’s calling for help.”
The elevator opened and the two men stepped on. Jim hit the button for the third floor.
“Ah, man! I knew he was sick,” Blair said, worried. “I should’ve taken him to the vet this morning!”
“Hang in there, Chief,” Jim said softly, his own worry sounding in his voice. “Let’s just see what’s going on. Remember last time? He managed to trap himself in the bathroom and was making all kinds of noise because he couldn’t get out.”
Jim and Blair stepped off the elevator and were well on their way to the loft’s door when a yowl reached both their ears.
“Oh my God!” Blair said and ran the rest of the distance to the door.
Jim was right on Blair’s heels as the younger man fumbled in his pockets for his keys. “I got it, Chief!” Jim said, keys in his hand.
What the two men saw when the burst into the loft stopped them both in their tracks.
“Oh, Figaro!” Blair cried in dismay.
Jim stood with his hand over his mouth, trying to stifle the laugh that was suddenly growing inside his chest.
There, about half way up the tree, with lights wrapped around his entire body was Figaro. Ornaments were strewn around the room, garland hung haphazardly from frazzled branches. A tail swished, sending lights swaying.
Jim reached for the switch and flipped on the lights. He couldn’t hold it in any longer and burst into a fit of laughter.
It was quite a sight, and Blair was having trouble holding in his own giggles as he moved across the loft to his cat’s rescue. “Jim, it’s not funny!” he squeaked.
Figaro merfed and huffed as Blair reached for him. Be careful! I think it’s done for, but you can’t be too careful!
“Oh, man… Jim, give me a hand here.”
Jim managed to tone down his laughter and crossed the room to help Blair unwrap one pissed cat from one slightly mauled tree. He stole a glance at his friend… and they both started laughing.
**********
Later that evening, after redecorating the Christmas tree and compromising to make dinner a joint venture, the three companions settled themselves in the living room to watch TV.
Figaro curled himself into a ball on Blair’s lap and purred loudly as his Master stroked his fur and scratched his ears.
“Well, Figaro, I don’t know what we would’ve done without you,” Blair said. “Thank you for saving us from the tree monster.”
Figaro looked up at his Master and let out a small meow. You’re welcome.
Jim looked at Blair from his spot on the sofa, a grin making his blue eyes twinkle. “Hey, Chief, how’s it feel to have two Blessed Protectors?”
Blair only chuckled and shook his head. “I’ve never felt so safe in my life.”
<>~~<>~~<>
end