Finally the second part! @Day_Tripping_Citrus, here's the big finale! I hope you like it!

Casinos

Cliff flinched at the stray hand reaching and grabbing lower on his person than a hand should. "Calm down, Williams, jus' takin' this stupid thing off, you look ridiculous," Phil said as the fanny pack was removed from his waist and tossed on the street. The group walked down the road toward a busier part of town where someone surely wanted a feline friend; and not just a woman in a costume.

Heat poured down on the men from the summer atmosphere. Every step felt like two, and the buildings in front of them seemed simple illusions; they never got any closer. The immense size of the structures gave hope that they would find one person fond of cats, but yet no guarantee was offered. Maximus was pressed against Cliff's chest for fear he might run off to another high area Angus would have to scale. The schoolboy had recovered from his previous nightmare and was not willing to risk his life again. Bon begrudgingly supported his right side, stumbling after him.

With a look around the area, Malcolm saw various rendezvous hosting potential kitten owners lining both sides of the street. Some drinkers started an afternoon trash can fire in an alley, each with a sizable smoke. Graffiti trained across the brick walls ending at a group of teenage artists making their print in the city. Malcolm nodded in approval. Across the street was a bar full of rowdy and classy folk alike. Cliff turned to the shorter man whose hand had slapped his shoulder. "Cliffy, this won't take a minute too long findin' your friend a home, there's plenty a takers here."

""Yeah, sure looks it," Phil mumbled rolling his eyes.

"They're a better chance than you, Rudd, so stuff it." The kitten began licking Cliff's knuckles which had him shifting positions as a result. His hind legs were supported with one hand while his front paws were trapped in the other. Fur pressed up against the man's fingers as the kitten struggled, but the hold would not loosen. Ignoring Malcolm's comment Phil took a glance at the squirming vermin out of the corner of his eye. If it got loose, he might have to make a run for it. The day he found out about his cat allergy was not a pretty one. After his cousin's molly had her first litter, his mother blessed him with his very own pet. A million wheezes later ended him up in urgent care with a brand new inhaler. Needless to say the kitten didn't stay and was soon replaced by a goldfish; which died two days later. Phil kept his eye on Cliff's pet. Malcolm pointed up ahead of the group inciting them to skid to a halt. "We're goin' up the road to those guys, see if anyone there'll snatch him up, yeah?"

"Think they could snatch Ang up too? Gettin' sick of carryin' him," Bon grumbled. Angus pulled his arm away like a little kid.

"Alright, alright, I'll walk." Malcolm nodded.

"Good, c'mon."

(Song break!---Sin City)

*******

Five pairs of feet jogged down the scorched sidewalk where the group of tourists stood. The boys were met with a colorful cast of characters. Coffee suede shoes under blue high waters sat snug on a tall, sun-screened man. Black suspenders rested on a white t-shirt which clothed a much shorter portly man. Next to them was a woman draped in short brown curls and kissed by cherry lipstick. Her floral dress was pinned up to her knees and the shoulders were puffed. A little boy peered from behind her wearing the ever popular striped t-shirt and jeans. A lollypop dangled out of his mouth and one of his pockets was inside out. Their attention was given to the five men and mammal which was taken into Malcolm's arms. "Excuse me," he stated with a smile. "Would any of you care for a new addition to the family?"

"You sellin' him?" asked the tall man.

"We ain't buyin' nothin'!" shouted the shorter man with a New York accent.

"Oh no, we're not sellin' him, but you see we can't keep him anymore and was hopin' somebody'd take him, ya' know?" Malcolm explained. The woman put her hand on the boy's hair and stroked it, all while giving the cat a snobby look. She glanced up to see Bon giving her a toothy grin, Angus looking back and forth at them amused. With a sneer the woman turned her attention back to the exchange in front of them. The taller man looked the kitten over, inspecting each paw while Cliff bit his lip. These didn't seem like the type of people he was willing to hand his friend over to. Phil on the other hand looked about ready to pay them to take it.

"Looks like a nice fella," the man observed. Malcolm didn't tarry agreeing with him.

"Sure he is, he'll lick ya' silly."

"I don't want my face licked," the woman declared with a stern face. Bon dropped his head and Angus gave him a pat on the back. Malcolm's smile vanished.

"I mean, no he won't. He'll uh-he'll leave you alone, it's like he ain't even there." His other hand came up to keep the kitten from scurrying out of his grasp.

"I tol' ya', we ain't buyin' nothin'!" the shorter man said again.

"Now Dad..." the taller man said turning to face him. His father responded with a sip of his beer. Malcolm shook his head.

"No sir, we ain't tryin' to sell him, jus' givin' him away."

"Nobody jus' gives nothin' away in Vegas, that's a different kind a business."

"He's just a harmless cat, Dad."

"Harmless? Cats have claws, he'll poke holes in all my beer! First you adopt the boy now you're gonna adopt a cat?" Both the man and woman closed their eyes and sighed at the older man's words. The kitten was drawn closer to Malcolm's chest, Cliff staying close beside him.

"What?" the little boy asked turning to the woman. All five men exchanged looks.

Back and forth the boys ran down the streets under the burning sun in hope of finding someone to take the kitten. One door after another shut on their faces, denying a new pet. Each one had their own way of going about it as well. Malcolm knocked on the door as the rest stayed behind watching, the door revealing a little girl. The short man thought he had the perfect opportunity handed on a silver platter. Kneeling down to her level he presented the cat.

"Hello, Miss," he smiled. "Would you like a sweet kitty to snuggle? He's real soft and sweet." His smile flattened when the little girl, after staring blankly at him, reached behind her door and pulled out a box of girl scout cookies, ready for a deal. Seeing how the girl was in a business of her own, he figured she was too busy for a kitten. He also wasn't willing to pay for them.

But Angus was.

The next door Angus took the liberty of knocking on. One hand held the kitten while the other balanced the box of cookies. His appearance was lovely with cookie crumbs speckling his face, mouth full. Behind the door was a beautiful young woman, and Angus was thinking he got lucky. "Hello, Ma'am," he mumbled politely, spitting out crumbs.

"Oh, hello," she answered. The young man troubled himself with taking out and enjoying another cookie, almost dropping the box. "What can I do for you?"

"We were wonderin', ya' know, if you wouldn't mind takin' this cat." The kitten was held up with one hand, clearly not comfortable with the position. Cliff watched from afar, also not comfortable. Maximus mewed in protest, but Angus continued talking. "We can't really keep him ya' know, and-" He paused to wipe his mouth. "-and we were goin' door to door-" The young woman wiped her face clean from Angus' spit and snack. "-askin' around. If you take him, you can have me as well." The young man spread his arms, showing her the deal. The door was shut on him, turning his less than charming smile downwards. Angus sighed, reaching into the box for another cookie only to find it empty.

"Give him to me, ya' sod," Bon exclaimed, taking the kitten from his companion. "Let the real pro show you how it's done."

Bon stood in front of the door, looking off into the distance, his shirt purposefully unbuttoned a good amount. One hand was on his hip while the other held Maximus in his palm. Angus stood behind with the rest of the guys, arms crossed and scoffing. "The fuckin' showoff."

The door opened and Bon began his method, turning to face the response. "Sorry to bother ya' Miss, but we was hopin'-ew!" The response was not what he expected-a gruff looking man in a bathrobe not having shaved anything. Bon suddenly felt unclean with his actions. With a scratch of his face, the man spoke.

"I've never seen a Jehovah's Witness like you around, this some...new custom?" His voice was slow and tired. Bon's face was trying to hide his disgust but failing too much. Angus couldn't help but laugh at the scene in front of them, earning a few giggles from the other guys as well. Whipping his head around, Bon frowned at his friends while they quickly tried to recover from their sporadic episode. With a small smile, Bon faced the music.

"Sorry to trouble you, sir, but my friends and I were wonderin' if ya' wouldn't mind takin' a good friend off our hands."

"I-I already know Jesus, my grandmother made sure of that long long ago." Bon stopped the man from closing the door on him.

"No, I mean, we're tryin' to give away this kitten my pal found. We can't keep him, see."

"Where'd he find him?"

"In his crapper, ya' know." The door was closed in a second. The group was still laughing when Bon stomped up to them. Handing the kitten off to Cliff he buttoned up his shirt again. "It ain't funny, ya' little asses! I feel almost violated."

"You weren't too lucky either," Malcolm said running a hand through his hair. Bon made a face at him.

"I can see that, Mal," he pouted. "Ang blows it with a girl an' I get the payment for it." The man had a slight issue buttoning the last one, and he considered leaving it off due to how much sweat he had put on. All of them were shining. But it was off to the next house for them.

The door swung open with Phil standing outside, his shirt pulled up over his nose and latex gloves over his hands. Maximus was held at a good distance away. Phil's voice was muffled as he spoke. "Will you for the love of God, please take this off our hands and especially out of mine?"

Unfortunately for Phil, an elderly woman answered the door, a paranoid one at that. It certainly didn't help his case as his appearance was slightly menacing. One scream and a shot of pepper spray was all it took to fend him away. The door slammed shut, scaring the kitten out of Phil's gloved hands. His hands were brought to his eyes as he groaned in pain, only to remember they held a furry allergenic cat not two seconds ago and he groaned again in panic. Cliff took off down the street chasing down Maximus while the rest of the band stayed behind to calm the drummer down.

After repeated failures including Angus pretending to be an orphan in need of someone to take his cat before he died, and Malcolm seeing a woman who already owned an unhealthy amount of feline companions, the band decided it was best to go as a group. This only resulted in a group of girls having a house party to recognize them, inciting the boys to try a completely different street after running away from their screams of certain excitement. The final house they tried belonged to a lovely family of three, perfectly capable of taking care of any living being. Cliff held Maximus closely, the boys encouraging him to give him into their loving hands. After a few more thoughts, Cliff shook his head and booked it down the street, not quite ready to give up his little buddy. With shouts of protest, the band ran after him.

(Song finished---)

*******

The sun was higher in the sky than it ever was before, burning craters in the boys' skin. They sat on the sidewalk, their backs to a concrete building, a layer of shade blessing them. Bon's eyes were closed, legs stretched in front of him. Angus had begun fanning himself with his hat, his curls blowing in his face. Malcolm and Phil sat watching Cliff in a patch of dirt in front of them, helping Maximus go to the bathroom; each donning a different expression. The two hours till show time were counting down, and Malcolm regretted that he had counted his chickens.

Cliff returned to the group, sweating bullets himself. Maximus was successful in the patch of dirt, and buried his work for someone to find later. "Hey guys, we better find someone fast, I think this heat is gettin' to Max," the man said cuddling his pet. Malcolm stood up to see him.

"What's up with him?"

"He's shakin' a bit, hasn't licked himself in a while, things like that."

"I hope he isn't sick..." Phil rolled his eyes. How could they stand there and coddle that animal when he was almost hospitalized in that neighborhood? How could he let himself be talked into taking the cat to the door? Maybe he thought if he helped, God or someone would have pity on him and speed the process up. Instead he was humiliated, and now he was hot. Phil's blue eyes searched across the street watching people go in and out of a casino. From his experience they were always nice and cool inside, and he might be able to get away and have a little fun. If they weren't gonna rehearse for the show he might as well do something with his time.

"Hey fellas," he started standing up. "See that casino there? Might be someone in there who'd take a free cat."

"They're gamblin' all their money away, Rudd, they can't afford to take a cat," Malcolm said in spite of him. "Besides. If Cliff here hadn't chickened out at that last house, we'd be in the clear."

"'M sorry, alright?" Cliff sighed. "Jus' didn't think they were right."

"They were the best damn people on the block!" Phil yelled. "Would you have chosen the bum instead? Or how about that lady that fuckin' sprayed my eyes!"

"Alright, Phil, we get it," Malcolm defended. Phil closed his eyes and rubbed his head in frustration. Angus broke in the scuffle with his own suggestion.

"Hey, we goin' inside or not? Me nuts are roastin' out here." A few looks of uncertainty were exchanged.

"Alright, let's go. Bon, gettup. We're goin' cross the street."

"Someone takin' the cat?" Bon asked, eyes still closed.

"Nah, Phil saw this casino and Angus is gettin' hot, so we're headin' inside." Bon yawned as he stood up from the sidewalk, brushing off specks of dust from his jeans.

"Wait, wait," Cliff began, a hand out in front of him. "We can't sneak Max in, no animals."

"Call him your service pet," Angus suggested with a cheeky grin. Cliff rolled his eyes.

"With your stumblin' around every time you need to cross the street," Malcolm said, pausing to look both ways then trip as if he were drunk inciting the band sans one to laugh. "you could use a service pet." Angus frowned and shoved his brother.

"Ain't my fault I get dizzy!"

"Alright!" Bon shouted, stepping in before there was one less Young in the family. "Now listen you lot, I got an idea. Anyone have a spare shirt? Or mind removin' theirs?" The other four exchanged looks while Bon waited patiently for an answer. Phil was the first to speak.

"Ya' know, it's a little uncomfortable bein' asked by a bloke, an' even more so to follow through with it." A cocky smile graced his lips and Bon shook his head. One by one the buttons were undone.

"Alright then, leave it to me," Bon answered. His shirt was shrugged off his shoulders and tossed aside right on the face of a disgusted Angus, being the perfect height he was for a coatrack.

"Where the hell is your idea?" Cliff asked a bit disgusted himself. The kitten was gently removed from his hands and cuddled between two large and sweaty palms.

"Ang, wrap the shirt around him." Angus did as he was told. Maximus was soon swaddled in the fabric of Bon's shirt. Bon held him up proudly. "Ah, see? The perfect disguise."

"You dress him up like a pile of dirty laundry?" Angus asked in disbelief. Resisting the urge to pop him a good one, Bon mimicked a baby, putting his thumb in his mouth. Four pairs of eyes lit up but one quickly dimmed.

"That's all great an' all, but what's a baby doin' in some man's sweat stained shirt?" Cliff asked.

"'Cause it's all we got, an' if anybody takes the time to ask, we'll take the time to say it ain't their business, ya' satisfied?" Bon replied. "'M fine without it anyway, fuckin' blazin' out here." Cliff looked at the kitten incognito.

"Still strikes me odd, is all."

"Here, Mal's got a kid, he'll look after him for you." Bon placed the bundle in Malcolm's arms who cradled him with experience.

"Mew!"

"See, Cliff? We got it, nothin' to fret over. But Bon, if he uses your shirt as a litter box-or, diaper-I'm handin' him back, alright?"

Bon sneered at Malcolm's remark and the band was off in the casino's shadow. The sun was beginning to hover at a low angle creating a nasty glare right in their line of vision. Whether the crowd or blinding light hurried them to the building, hurry they did. Their pace slowed as they reached the man standing outside, deciding who and who not to card. The black shirt and beanie were intimidating, not to mention sweat inducing. With a casual gait, the men stepped forward but were stopped short when closely observed. "You."

"Who?" Bon asked.

"That one, you." A large finger pointed directly at Angus who stood next to Phil. His own hand gestured to himself for confirmation and was granted it. Stepping forward he presented himself to the bouncer. "I.D."

"What?" Malcolm asked.

"I'm twenty three," Angus responded.

"If that's what your I.D. says, then by all means go inside." A hand was stretched out, open in front of the guitarist. After a second of disbelief, Angus reached into his jeans pocket, finding nothing and reached in the other one. Then he checked his back pockets. With his utmost misfortune, his passport had been left lying on top of his jacket on the kitchen table of his hotel room; with his identification inside. The bouncer wagged his fingers. "Come on then."

"Oh shit," Angus whispered. Malcolm rolled his eyes knowing exactly what was going on in his little brother's puny mind.

"What's wrong, Ang?" Bon asked not quite in the loop of things. Angus placed his hands on his hips running one over his head.

"Fuckin' passport's at the hotel," he muttered, cursing himself. The singer couldn't help the small grin.

"Tol' you not to wear that hat and sneakers," he said. "Makes you look like a lad."

"Should I wear a fuckin' tie then?" The bouncer wasn't swayed by the events.

"Got a driver's license on you?" All heads turned to the boy, who accidentally let out a chuckle, despite his stress levels ascending.

"Uh...no," he finally answered. When his entire family warned him he was going to regret it, he didn't think they were serious. The group was quiet for a moment as if they were deciding what to do with him, or without him if the bouncer had his way. "Shit."

"Well, I apologize for the inconvenience, but this casino's real strict with their rules, no one under twenty one is even allowed inside," the man in black said. Phil, leaning against the column, took out a cigarette, waiting for the matter to be settled. Personally he didn't care if Angus had to be left behind but he couldn't help but feel a little sympathy. He no less found humor for the situation. "Unless there's anything on you to prove your age..." The man shrugged in pity for Angus who stuck his hands in his pockets and stood away from them.

"Go on in, I'm holdin' you up," he said. "I'll wait out here for you."

"You sure, Ang?" Malcolm asked adjusting his hold on the 'baby'. "We can find a different one, ya' know." Angus shook his head slower than one who's had a good day.

"Nah, it's my fault I left my stuff, I'll take the heat for it." He could just feel the sunburns smoking on his skin. The kitten squirmed around in Bon's shirt though luckily Malcolm had acted fast enough. He remained a secret. "This just shits on everything, doesn't it?"

"Not for us," Malcolm laughed. "We look our age. Hey, if you wanna run up to the hotel an' grab your stuff there's no one stoppin' you."

"Even the baby gets in," Phil mumbled behind him.

"Baby needs to be watched," Bon remarked.

"I gotta warn you fellas, it gets pretty loud in there. There's smoke...if you don't want to have your baby in there with ya'..." Angus shook his head.

"No, he should really stay with his 'father'," he said glancing at Cliff. Malcolm, however, responded.

"Yeah, I know what I'm doin'. We won't be long, Ang, don't be too alarmed if there's less of us when we come out." The bouncer laughed, giving a whistle to the comment.

"My advice, head over by roulette. Plenty of single digits that way. Might think it sweet if you got a kid on ya'." The band laughed, surprised that Bon's plan was actually successful. Angus didn't laugh as much, disappointed he wouldn't be one of those not returning. Next time he'd be wearing his passport like a nametag. The bouncer moved aside to let the men through, Angus watching them. "Have a good time, guys." Taking the biggest spot of shade he could find, the guitarist sat down, knees to his chest, hat waving back in forth in front of his face. His disappointment grew when he realized his cigarettes were lying next to his passport.

Coins clanked uncontrolled down the slots of occupied machines, usually less than what was deposited. Flashing lights were blinking out of sync along with sirens going off once in a while. People passing by gave the bundle a glance or two, silently questioning the presence of an infant in such a circus. Places to sit at the poker tables were the most coveted this hour, and were objects of affection, being ornamented by panoplies of winnings. One pile was handed off to an unexpected recipient and a loud cry of shock and pity escaped the crowd. The former winner was not amused.

"Mew...mew!"

"Shhh, you'll get us caught, little man," Cliff said coming up to Malcolm and petting the bundle in his arms. "They were already starin' for bringin' you in."

"When's the last he was fed?" Malcolm asked. The bassist exhaled in remembrance.

"At least back at the hotel two hours ago. Prolly gettin' hungry again."

"We can't exactly feed him in here, even if we did have food for him." Phil's eyes sparkled.

"One of you get in the bathroom an' nurse him. He is a baby after all," he laughed.

"Can it, will ya'? You're gross," Malcolm said trying his best to ignore the drummer.

"Hey, it's nature." A scoff was his only response. "Maybe there's a food place 'round here, we can sneak him some people food."

"Sounds good, 's what I did," Cliff agreed.

"Might look weird," Bon commented.

"We'll have to use Phil's advice and find a bathroom," Malcolm said. "Give him water from the sink. I'm sure this heat's jus' doin' him in."

"Good, I gotta take a piss," Phil said crushing his cigarette and throwing it away. The group followed after his hasty steps and entered the nearest restroom. A man stood at a urinal, concentration broken when they came into view.

Phil took the farthest urinal away from their company while Maximus was sat by a sink. His tiny paws scrambled through the shirt attempting an escape. It proved futile when Bon acted quick enough to trap him in his palms. "Turn the tap on," he said holding him down. Malcolm reached for the tap letting the water pool by the drain. Carefully Bon slid his shirt to the water and let Maximus poke his head out just enough to bathe his tongue in the liquid. The room was silent save for the lapping of the water, and the awkward waterfalls from the other side of the room. The quiet allowed reason for watching the cleaner yet stranger activity. Bon noticed the man's wandering eye and smiled. "First time fathers," he said, earning a slow nod. The kitten finished his drink as Phil and his company finished their deeds. Quickly washing his hands and leaving in a rush departed the man, Phil instead taking his time. "Alright, shut it off."

"Jus' did," Phil said grabbing the paper towels with a smirk. Bon tilted his head with exasperation.

"Piss off, Rudd."

"Did that too." Once again the kitten was wrapped in Bon's shirt which he didn't miss; the restroom lacked air conditioning. The singer took possession of the bundle and bounced him on his shoulder. "Did anyone tell you make a lovely mother, Bon?"

"Did anyone tell you'd make a lousy lover?" he retaliated. The drummer beamed with pride.

"Not once."

"Oh right, stuffed animals can't talk." The pride was rinsed off his face with the snickers from the group. "C'mon, who's got money for food?"

"I've got a handful for poker," Cliff said searching his pocket. "Not sure I'll be able to place it."

"Or win it back, ya' know you stink shit at playin' cards?" Phil asked. "Just last week you lost to my cousin playin' strip."

"How'd you know?" Cliff raised an eyebrow while the man before him played a cheeky grin.

"Hey Cliff, yer camera's full." Bon stepped in between the two as Cliff made a lunge at the shorter man's throat. "Not the best roll of film in it either," Phil laughed.

"I ought to spin ya' on the roulette wheel!" Malcolm took over controlling the children for Bon who was with kitten. "Or better yet, play Russian style!"

"Knock it off, the both of ya'!" Malcolm yelled, shoving Cliff away. Phil received a sharp punch on his shoulder making him wince. "Yer out the door if there's so much as one more fight, ya' got that?"

"So what, we just suffer watching you and your brother argue and complain twenty four seven?" Cliff responded. "Not twenty minutes ago, Bon's breakin' up a dispute." A hand reached into a pocket pulling out a small sum of change and passed it to the singer.

"Here's sixty two cents I had layin' around, we can use it to get food for the cat," Malcolm snapped, eyeing the two musicians. "I know it ain't much but I'm willin' to part with it."

Bon studied the copper and nickel in his palm. "Bit stingy, aren't we Mal?"

"I know it's not much!" he repeated. "but it's all we got, an' it's enough for a bag of crackers. We'll crush 'em up for him." Bon led the way out of the bathroom holding the door open for his mates and another man entering. After denying any trouble about it, he headed for the bar where he figured there were snack machines. A whole row of them stood off to the side of the bar and eatery. One of them was free.

"Alright, let's see," Bon said sitting on the stool before the machine. "Heh, you'd think this was a game." One by one the coins slid down the hole landing in a pit inside.

"You'd think with all this money around we wouldn't have this much trouble findin' any," Malcolm noted. "A whole casino's worth a million bucks!"

"They don't use tokens to pay for the snacks," Phil laughed making Malcolm grin. "Ya' think the bar will accept my chips as real gold?"

"Poor Angus still has to spend his days in the arcade. It'd be news to him you have to spend real money," Cliff laughed. The snack machine wasn't satisfied with the amount paid and wouldn't hand over the crackers. Bon hated to break up the Angus joke fest ensuing but the bundle in his arms was panting which made the man nervous. He wasn't so sure food was the answer but it wasn't a terrible option.

"At least Angus gets tickets no matter how well he does. Gets maybe...two for shootin' those little ducks," Malcolm laughed.

"Hey fellas, Mal's paycheck isn't enough, I need more." Malcolm's laughter subsided as he stuffed his hands in his pockets and shifted his weight on each foot. Cliff reached into his pocket for his higher priced amount.

"How much you need?"

"Just a dollar or two. Thanks." A bag of crackers was deposited into Bon's hand and the snack machine was free again. In a corner the men stood, Cliff crushing the crackers through the bag and pouring out a sample for Maximus to eat. A few crumbs were accepted, but the rest was left alone. "Maybe he's not hungry?"

"Maybe you're just doin' it wrong," Phil suggested making Cliff sigh. "The cat knows where those hands have been."

"He really doesn't look real good," Malcolm observed changing the subject. Along with shortness of breath, Maximus had salivated all over Bon's shirt leaving it sticky to touch. Refusing to touch his food was the piss on the urinal cake. "You think he needs more water?"

"He needs a home already," Phil said. "I'm gettin' tired waitin' for a taker, we gotta go find one."

"We shouldn't keep Angus waitin' too long either," Malcolm added taking his brother into consideration. Phil couldn't care less what Angus was doing at the minute.

The sun had baked the man like a potato as the casino sunroof provided no shelter from the horizon heat. A nice burn sizzled on his arm and would eventually shed like a snake. Surely hours had passed since his mates entered the casino. Surely this was the end. Angus sputtered and coughed from the water dumped on his head, picking him up from laying on the ground. The bouncer's shadow cast over him offering little relief. The guitarist had to squint to look up at him. "You alive?" Another set of coughs prevented him from answering. "Thought I should check on you or somethin'."

Angus remained sitting on the ground bringing his knees to his chest. With one last sniff he said, "Didn't think to check for a pulse?" The bouncer chuckled to himself.

"You might have woken up before I found it." Looking at his watch Angus yawned. Forty minutes had passed without report from the guys. For a minute he feared they simply separated to play the slots after giving the kitten away. For another minute he worried he had come down with heatstroke and fainted; but upon feeling his forehead, he wasn't burning up. His arm was a different story being as red and patchy as it was.

"Fuck, that hurts," Angus muttered as he rubbed it.

"Sunburn? Not used to this heat, are ya'?"

"I should think my accent said otherwise," he replied with a slight smile. "My name...not so much."

"I'm real sorry I couldn't let you in," the bouncer started apologetically. "but twenty three or not you don't look the part, an' if you get caught we'll both be in trouble." The man on the ground shrugged.

"Hey, I'm happy to help a man keep his job. Though if I stay out here much longer I may lose my life."

"Okay, now you're just being dramatic," the bouncer chuckled. Angus laughed along with him and shook his head.

"Maybe just a little."

"Hey, if you think you're burning up, be glad you don't have to wear all this black." Completely clad in dark clothing stood the man, visible sweat through his shirt. Angus grimaced. "I wouldn't have, but my job requires intimidation. A scare factor, a tough guy. Ya' know what I mean?"

"You think I could pass as a roughneck bruiser but I still ain't twenty three?" The man at the door had to laugh.

"Take it as a compliment, man, looking young is what most people strive for."

"But lookin' like a child is a bit too far. Kind of helps with my job though, I can pass off the image. Really gives my last name a good kick in the pants." Another yawn worked its way to his throat and past his lips. He must have simply fallen asleep rather than given in to heatstroke, which he was grateful for.

"Any of your siblings blessed the same way?"

"If they were here I might say differently," Angus snorted to himself. "They're all older than me, it would be odd if they were."

"All my siblings look like their mom," the bouncer explained. "I'm the only one born of a different mom, so I took after her. None of us were really blessed, mostly 'cause my dad looks the youngest of the three!" After a few minutes of letting out jokes and cracks at their families, both men settled down and let the silence fill the gaps. A few more people here and there were allotted into the casino and Angus watched with envy. Air conditioning sounded really good right about now. "What am I doing?" the man finally said smiling at his acquaintance on the ground. "Name's Patrick. Don't suppose I need to catch your name." Angus smiled.

"I'll throw it anyway. Angus." The bouncer reached his hand out for a proper greeting, but retracted back in thought.

"I'd shake your hand but I don't know if I can reach it with you sitting." The guitarist slowly got up from the ground and offered his hand.

"I couldn't reach you standin' up."

The roulette wheel was crowded with players, four band members, a kitten, and fans of AC/DC to spare. Bon had handed Maximus off to Cliff who had become increasingly worried about his feline pal. He knew cats didn't pant, and they certainly didn't wheeze like this. Taking the sweat and spit stained shirt in his arms he lightly bounced him up and down hoping it'd calm his nerves. Rather, a stream of vomit was added to the foul mixture. Bon refused to take his shirt back.

"None of these people are willin' to take him," Malcolm said showing up behind the bassist. "None of them are interested in takin' a cat home, they'd rather walk away with money."

"Can't blame 'em, 't's what they came here for," Cliff replied. "We should get back to the hotel, Maxy isn't doin' well." Four eyes grazed the area for Bon who had been snagged away by a brunette, and Phil who joined his mates with a bottle of water.

"That's still here?" he asked taking a drink. His face scrunched up at the sight and smell of the disguise. "What he'd do to Bon's shirt?"

"Got a little sick is all, we need to take him home," Cliff replied walking away. Every footstep of his was echoed with two and soon enough Phil was walking right beside him.

"We came in here for nothin' then," he remarked, pacing himself. "No one took it, an' we can't waste anymore time before the show. You blokes hardly even tried!"

"Better than you!" Cliff answered as he weaved his way in and out crowds of plenty. "He needs a good home, a safe home. You'd just hand him off the first person that says they want-" The man stopped short as he realized where his sentence was going. "Nevermind," he quickly added.

Phil snickered to himself in spite of Cliff's embarrassment. The swarm of people filtered out as they got closer to the exit when a voice shouted out. "Oi, lads! Hold yer fuckin' horses, Bon's not out yet!" Malcolm stood on the tips of his toes as he got the message across the room. Both men looked around not seeing the singer anywhere within calling distance. A smoker's pipe clouded the vicinity with a thick fog. Cliff carefully wrapped his pet tighter, concealing him from the smoke. The bundle was bounced a little, hoping for some comfort to find the kitten inside. A passing woman caught a glimpse of the fatherly bassist and simply had to show her interest.

"How lovely! This your baby?" she asked with a strawberry smile. Cliff made sure the kitten's face was invisible then returned the smile.

"Uh, yeah he's-he's mine, I couldn't find a sitter and I had to meet a friend here," he explained as he looked anywhere but the woman. A glance at Phil's amused face also drove his attention away.

"The shirt's big enough to cover his little head!"

"Yeah, I-wanted to keep the light out, ya' know? Really I wouldn't have taken him in but-some people are just so demanding." Phil knew right away that comment was directed at him. The drummer stepped in with his own words.

"Yeah, they are. Real shame that 'friend' couldn't even make it." Now the blame was put on Angus. Had the miniscule rabbit been there, he would have worded it different. A kind look graced the woman's face.

"You two must be so proud." Confusion turned to concern as the men exchanged looks. Phil raised his hands as a, "you settle this" gesture. "Is he adopted?"

Cliff acted fast. "Y-y-yeah, he's adopted, but I'm not-I mean we're not-"

"Oh, you don't have to hide anything from me, I'm a full supporter. Makes my heart happy to see such young love out in public where they're free. Just wish it was like that everywhere. But if you want it on the down low, I'm no snitch." A wink and a laugh later, the woman patted the bundle and left the men alone. Phil and Cliff stared at each other with growing more disgusted by the second faces.

"Ugh!" they both shouted as they turned away.

"Let's get the fuck outta here," Phil muttered.

"Waitin' for Bon, remember?"

"Mal can wait for him, I don't want this place thinkin' we're queers." Cliff sighed and shook his head.

"An' I don't want to wait to take Maximus back, an' I'm sure Mal jus' hates to keep his little brother waitin' in the hot sun. The man's practically made of chocolate, he's no doubt melted by now. You can go on an' leave, but I don't need Mal yellin' at my ass." Cliff scanned the room for Bon again. His voice cut to a murmur. "Though if Bon doesn't show up soon, I'll set his ass on fire." Phil lifted a hand to his mouth, choking out a laugh. Another woman came up to the men with a purse hung on her arm.

"I know he's probably asleep, but may I have a peek at your baby? I just love babies!" A delicate hand reached over to pull the shirt away when Cliff pulled the 'baby' away. The bundle was pushed in Phil's direction who in a reflex attempt at dodging his allergen, stumbled back into a man who was carrying a huge silver tray heaping with winning tokens out the exit. Phil's shoulder blade burned with a sharp pain and he couldn't care less where the stupid, fuckin', piece of shit tray was gonna land. The man no longer carrying those winnings, however, did care.

"You wanna try that again, you four foot sonuvabitch?"

His free hand reached out to grab Cliff's shoulder while his other hand cupped his own. "C'mon, let's go!" The woman was apologetically shoved to the side in order to avoid a quick death by an unhappy passerby. It was worth it.

The two men found themselves lost in the crowd again this time breaths heavy. Cliff checked on the kitten again and saw him mouth open, tongue out, eyes closed. "Oh shit," he breathed, holding back his panicked tears. He hoped to God he hadn't been smothered. It was way past time he took him back to the hotel. Cliff looked at his watch. Another hour till the concert at the MGM. The man knew at that moment that no performance could ever amount to the life he held in his hands. Fans were more than important to him, but they were just gonna have to wait. "Phil, I'm leaving. Max isn't doin' well."

"He wasn't doin' well ten minutes ago," the drummer responded dryly, keeping his eye out for a certain pugnacious fellow. Cliff rolled his eyes and gave his mate a pleading look.

"He's worse now! He might be dying..." An obvious crack in his voice got Phil's attention.

"So, just go...put him outside in the shade or somethin'. If he dies, we can...find a good place to put him so the dogs won't get him." Cliff's ears turned red at the words they heard.

"You son of a bitch!"

"What did I-"

"A livin', breathin', God's precious gift to man, animal is dyin' an' that's all ya' have to say? You'd just stick him in a hole somewhere left to rot?" Phil put his hands up in defense of Cliff's advancing figure.

"I said a good place, so he won't get eaten by a wild animal! Fuck!" His hands reached out to grab anything that might delay his fall to the ground, the sting in his shoulder returning thanks to Cliff's fist.

"No, you want to leave him out in a ditch jus' so you won't have to care for him anymore!"

"It's not my cat! I shouldn't be the one takin' care of it in the first place! Forgive me for carin' about my life too, that thing will kill me if you get too close, Williams!" Phil had never seen such fire in his bandmate's eyes. Not since his favorite team lost the season, anyway.

"You're right. This kitten came to me for help, to me to save his life, an' I've done all but let him down because you're in my way. Do me a favor, Rudd, stay out of my way." Cliff veered off to the side walking quickly to the exit door. Phil could hear Malcolm yell behind him but he ignored it.

"Listen to reason, ya' moron! You can't keep lookin' forever, no one wants it! It's gonna die in this heat an' bein' smothered in Bon's fuckin' shirt ain't helpin'!" Cliff kept walking from Phil's anger. "Why can't you just let it go?!"

The bassist turned back one last time. "Because I'm not a monster, Rudd. I'm not like you." With that, the man was gone from his sight.

Malcolm and Bon came up behind Phil who was left standing there speechless. Looking around Malcolm said, "Great, now where's Cliff?" Phil slowly frowned.

"I don't give a damn." He stormed off toward the exit making sure to keep any distance between him and his new opponent. Malcolm and Bon took a moment to register this sudden yet not quite new behavior from the drummer and quickly followed after him.

"So I finally saw the therapist my mom suggested and I got the help I denied I needed," Patrick explained, putting the finishing touch on his life story. He and Angus were standing with their backs to the wall of the casino each with a cigarette in his mouth, curtesy of the bouncer. Angus' was almost gone and he was craving another, but he thought it impolite to ask. He grinned at the irony. "Been ten years and I haven't cried once."

"How often do you watch Sesame Street?" Angus asked. Patrick shrugged.

"Dunno. But I'm not afraid of that yellow bird anymore, and that's all that matters."

"I'll smoke to that," Angus grinned, holding out his hand for another smoke. Patrick only laughed and crumpled his up, throwing it away. Angus' smile fell as he slowly retracted his hand. A rich silence fell upon the two, blending in with the whirr and buzz of city ambiance. The guitarist hadn't even bothered to check his watch lately. Another group of people was allowed entrance to the casino, exchanging good evenings with Patrick. The man let the door close, looking at Angus to the left of him. He really didn't look twenty three, but maybe...

"Hey." Angus turned his head. "How 'bout I let you off the hook?"

"You mean let me in?"

"Sure, why not? You seem like a cool guy, no one's ever given me the time of day to listen about my life." Angus' face brightened at the news he was hearing but had trouble believing. "Go ahead, it's no trouble."

"You're serious? But, I could be seventeen for all you know!"

"Go ahead, an' if anyone gives you trouble, I'll take the heat for you," Patrick smiled. Angus returned the smile but stayed where he was. "Go on, your friends are waiting." He stood away from the wall and headed for the door.

"Thanks, mate, I really appreciate it-" A sharp whack to the forehead sent him straight to the concrete sidewalk below him, turning black soon after. Cliff stormed out of the casino, both arms around Bon's filthy shirt, not once turning back to check on the man he just took out. All four limbs lay sprawled out beside him, left to cook in the sun. Seconds later the door opened again to a pissed off drummer, and finally two confused bandmates hustling behind them. Malcolm nearly tripped over the corpse at his feet, which also freaked him out for a second.

"Aw, Angus!" he mumbled, stepping over him. "Can't take two seconds outside, can ya'?" Angus made no response.

"They're gettin' away, Mal," Bon noted, watching the two leave in a rush. Malcolm saw them too, but couldn't leave his brother out to roast.

"Ang, gettup!"

"I got him, I got him." Bon grabbed ahold of Angus' torso and hauled him over his shoulder. Two limp arms hung down Bon's back while his waist was secured from the fireman's carry. With a nod, the three of them hurried down the street back to their hotel.

Fifty times the elevator button must have been pushed. When it opened allowing a plethora of people to filter out, Cliff lost his patience and ran to the nearest stairway. Taking two at a time, he reached his floor.

The door slammed open, leaving the keys in the lock. The lifeless bundle was placed on the table, the sticky shirt thrown off of him. The water in the bowl Cliff brought over was shaking as it was placed next to him; none of it taken. A finger brushed over the wispy fur in hopes of stirring up a response but it didn't happen. Short, shallow breaths hit his finger as he tapped the kitten's nose, being the only sign he wasn't dead. No hole would be dug for this creature tonight, Cliff would make sure of it. With forty minutes left until the concert, he tried everything he could think of to revive his friend.

Malcolm, Bon, and the lower half of Angus peered in the open room. There they saw a man gently pouring drops of water on a kitten's lips, and rubbing some through his fur. Gently, but futilely. Wondering whether or not to enter, Malcolm cleared his throat and advanced a step. "Uh, Cliff? We saw you an' Phil havin' a match an' we-"

"Get out!" The response was so quick Malcolm wasn't sure he heard him correctly.

"Cliff, do you need help with anythi-"

"I said get out!" A pillow was grabbed from the couch and thrown at the men, only grazing Malcolm's leg. "There was no match, only a slight disagreement is all."

"You call the water boiling in the indoor pool from your guys' anger a slight disagreement?" Bon remarked, stepping further inside. "Now what the hell happened between you two?"

"Phil's a jackass, now leave."

"We know that, but what's driven you over the edge?" Bon asked again.

"It's nothing, so just get out and quit distractin' me, you'll kill him!" Cliff stood from his slightly crouched position and headed for his door.

"Kill him? What are you talking *slam!* about?" Malcolm began pounding on the door but the man wouldn't answer.

"Cliff! Open this goddamn door!" Bon shook his head.

"Come on, we'd be more useful getting Angus to wake up," he said. The shorter man paused, sighed, then nodded and they headed to his hotel room.

Cliff paced the room, one eye always watching the kitten on the table. He rubbed his hands together till they were blistered and raw, then he rubbed away the pain. Nothing was working. Each heartbeat was getting smaller...and slower. Cliff thought about calling for help at the front desk, but they were prepared for a human emergency, not a kitten. Still, it couldn't hurt to try. With a kiss on the head, he left Maximus on the table; a pillow underneath him and a small fan he found in the closet blowing on him. The door closed behind him softly, not wanting any attention drawn in his direction.

Phil leaned against the ice machine, watching the man run down the hall and fly down the stairs. His arms were crossed, his brow furrowed, and a cigarette between his teeth. Taking care of that animal was useless, couldn't he see? It would die and he'd only have himself to blame. Of course that wouldn't stop him from unleashing his Viking temper at him. Making sure he was completely out of sight, Phil took careful steps up to the hotel door. His hand grabbed the keys still lightly swinging in the lock, and turned them.

The room was a mess. Plentiful, almost comical methods of care giving were strewn about, each confirming to the man that they didn't work. He wasn't surprised in the least. The scene on the table was even worse. It was just a furry lump on its side with barely a breath left. Phil took out the extra set of plastic gloves he snagged from his room and stretched them over his hands. He borrowed a nurse mask out of a first aid kit and placed it over his mouth. This mission would not land him in a hospital. Before picking the critter up, he grabbed a hotel pen and notepad, leaving Cliff a little notice of where he'd gone. The paper was placed not where he'd find it easily, but one that would take a little searching. Taped to the do not disturb sign hanging on the inside of the doorknob. Phil hesitantly approached Maximus a second time. He was doing him a favor.

Throwing everything around the room twice, three, four times he couldn't find him. Maximus had somehow left the room when he was sure he closed the door. To see the table empty he was scared at first that he might have fallen off. Uplifted that maybe the kitten had revived enough to jump down, and scared again that someone might have taken him. It wasn't until he was slumped on the floor in a worried trance that he saw his doorknob hosting the clue to his disappearance.

Malcolm opened the door to his room after hearing repetitive thunderous knocks. Angus had just woken up and strained every muscle in his body yelling at Malcolm to go open it. Bon refused to be the one to carry him around anymore so he was plopped on the couch; though he was still willing to slap his sense into him again. What Malcolm saw was not what he was expecting. Cliff looked up at the current residence after peeling his eyes from the floor and shook his head.

"I've been a real nimrod."

"Well, he's not a ten yet, but we're working on it," Doctor Maggie said, cleaning off her stethoscope with a clean rag. "In a few weeks, maybe days he should be back to his old self."

"Thank God," Cliff said running a hand through his hair. Phil stood across him, an arrogant smirk pressed on his lips. Malcolm had taken a seat in the corner while Bon stood next to him, leaving Angus with the small couch to lie on. An ice pack was held on his forehead and another episode of tinnitus was coming on. As soon as they got the news they ran to the vet Phil had said he'd taken him to on the note. Cliff had felt so ashamed he didn't take him there first, but Malcolm dismissed it saying they had all forgotten. The operating room behind them was buzzing with activity, once in a while sending someone through the door for some much needed water. Bon was the first to ask the question they were all dying to know.

"So uh, what exactly was wrong with him? It obviously was more than heatstroke." Maggie took out a clipboard from her desk drawer and a pencil.

"He seems to have a hiatal hernia, right in his esophagus. It's a good thing you brought him here, any longer he might not have made it." A whisker dropped on the floor would have sounded like a marching band. Angus dropped the false idea that his day was going worse than anybody else's. Cliff hung his head, raising it a little only to see Phil looking sort of sorry himself. The kitten no bigger than a baseball shouldn't have to go through larger than life surgeries, but they'd give it to him if it meant he'd live to see another day. Cliff picked himself up from the wall and sauntered over to the man across from him.

"You hear them?" Cliff asked. "Maxy's gonna be fine." Phil smiled weakly.

"Yeah, I heard. Great news, ain't it Pops?" Cliff couldn't smile at the joke. Not with the nagging feeling of guilt plucking his heartstrings like that.

"Why-why didn't I think to take him to the fuckin' vet?" he asked almost at a whisper. Phil looked him in the eye.

"'Cause you're not like me." Cliff winced at the words. His own statements echoed in his mind with a force. There was something he needed to say. "Course, that was just a heat of the moment type crack, ain't it?" Phil smiled.

"Look, I shouldn't have said all that to you, I jus' got so protective of Max an' I wanted to get him better before he..." Cliff sighed. "An' you runnin' yer fuckin' mouth every two seconds was pissin' me off." Both men shared a small laugh. "I guess I wasn't thinkin' about your health as much as I was about his."

"Hey, I'm still cruisin'. I shouldn't have been so heartless toward it-him, he-he's really a cute little thing. If you squint. Tell anyone I said that an' you're dead."

"Tell anyone about that roll of film an' you're dead." The men shook hands.

"Deal." When their hands separated, Cliff lifted his arms up.

"C'mon, let's have a hug." Phil grimaced at the man, hoping he might be kidding. "Gotta have a hug, mate."

"You're serious."

"Dead serious." The man took a glance around the room. "What are you doin'?"

"Makin' sure that woman from earlier ain't watchin'." Cliff initiated the hug with a laugh, engulfing Phil in his arms. The drummer lightly patted his back, initiating the separation.

"Hey, if you ever need help with a stray animal, I'll be right over to help."

"Thanks," Phil smiled. "Are we back in business?"

"Back in business." The men shook hands again while Malcolm held his watch up to the clock on the wall, hoping they were wrong.

"We'll be out of business if we don't get this show on the road."

"Mal, it's gonna take weeks for him to get better, we don't have that kind of time to wait," Bon stated. "If you had a hernia you wouldn't want to travel anytime soon now would ya'?"

"I can't jus' leave him here," Cliff said looking toward the operating room. Malcolm came up behind him placing a hand on his shoulder. "Mal, I can't."

"That's the last thing we want to ask you to do, mate," he answered. "But what else can we do? Miss the show or not, we can't stay here more than one more day. It's come to that." Cliff turned his head to Doctor Maggie for advice but she had gone in the operating room minutes before. Above his head was a framed picture of her, holding a cat. It was fat and yellow, captioned from the fifties. If she had a cat herself years ago, then she would certainly empathize with him, and know exactly what to do. A few minutes later the light in the room brightened so Maggie, who had returned to the men, could see what she had written. Angus hissed and covered his head in his arms.

"Doing fine in there, we're almost done," she informed with an air of glee. "Sure is a brave one."

Cliff stepped up to Maggie with his question on his lips but Bon beat him to it. "How did the little scamp get this hernia anyway?"

"And what exactly is one anyway?" Phil added.

"A hiatal hernia is when the stomach pushes through the hole of the diaphragm. A kitten as young as that usually gets it from his genes, but in this case it appears to have been trauma."

"Ouch, sucks to be him right now," Phil whistled. Cliff gave him a snarky look causing Phil to cough over his words.

"What sort of trauma?" Bon asked. Cliff wasn't upset by the interruption this time. He too was curious about this apparent trauma that plagued his feline. This caught everyone's attention, and it was assumed Angus was listening by the way he lifted his elbow to hear.

Maggie bit her lip. "Well, anything violent, ranging from abusive ownership or any mischief the kitten's gotten into. Would you happen to know of any such incident?"

All eyes turned to Cliff who shrugged. "Don't look at me, I've been watchin' him close since I found him." The only time he could recall Maximus ever getting hurt around him was when he slipped in the water dish hours ago. That, and when-

"Oh shit," Malcolm whispered. Angus moved his arm completely out of the way this time. A hand ran through his long brown hair. Bon glanced at Cliff, then back at Malcolm.

"What?" he asked.

"Cliff, I'm so sorry, this is all my fault," Malcolm apologized. No one else in the room seemed to remember the accident when Maximus and his first location were revealed.

"What happened?" Bon asked again.

"I dropped him, remember?"

"Hardly."

"Oh, you were over with Angus behind us. I dropped him on the stage when I first held him." Bon rolled his eyes.

"Good going, Mal."

"Hey, it ain't his fault!" Cliff defended from the side. "It's not your fault, Mal, it was just an accident, he'll be okay now." Malcolm leaned back in his seat. It was his turn to cover his face in his hands.

"I feel shit-awful. All this 'cause of me. Fuck," he muttered. The rest of the men gave him the silence to vent out his regret. "Fuckin' shit..." Maggie lifted her head from her clipboard at the sailor vocabulary. "Pardon me over here. Fuckin' hell."

"How high did you drop him from?" Maggie asked.

"Judging by the height of his legs, I'd say about one foot," Phil piped up making him and Angus laugh. Malcolm smacked Angus' shoulder receiving a brotherly glare. He didn't bother to get up to smack Phil. He could do it later.

"I don't know, I was jus' standin' when I dropped him."

"Foot an' a half then," Phil said.

"Shuttup!"

"Doesn't sound like a very large drop, I don't think that's the kind of trauma that did it. It had to have been blunt force, usually something done on purpose. You said 'found', correct?" she asked Cliff. He nodded. "Where exactly?"

"Uh," he coughed. "I found him in my hotel room a few hours ago. He was meowin' from the toilet." Maggie nodded her head in conclusion.

"That's a terrible place to leave a kitten. Sounds to me like you've saved an orphan." Cliff sat up a bit straighter. "Must have been left behind by the old owners, and if you found it in a hotel toilet, who's to say no other questionable activities were committed?"

"Glad it wasn't my fault," Malcolm sighed in relief.

"I hate people sometimes," Bon muttered. "Don't you fuckin' treat an animal that way, look where he's in now."

"Lucky I found him," Cliff said. "The hotel we're stayin' at's next to nothin', it could have been weeks before he was found."

"You must have caught the chance right on time. Any later, it might not have made it through your little scavenger hunt through town," Maggie smiled. "The old owners might still be in town themselves."

"Wish we could find 'em and fuck 'em up," Bon said.

"If we had time we would," Malcolm interjected. "But we gotta be at MGM in less than twenty minutes if we don't want to fuck anyone over." Looking at his bandmates waiting for anymore comments or questions from them and given a clean page, Cliff spoke up.

"This your cat in this picture?"

"Oh yes," Maggie beamed. "My prized Siamese. He wasn't as mean as they're made out to be, but he got in plenty of trouble just the same. Came home one shift and found all my cupboards open with him sleeping inside one of my cooking bowls. He glared at me when I woke him up, but he left just the same."

"You have any pets before him?" Malcolm asked.

"Several. All cats. I've had cats in my family since before I was born, and I've had them since. My last one, Carlisle, died of a respiratory infection last month. It happened so suddenly I hadn't set time off to get a new one. Sure there's more time for work but that's all it is anymore, work." Cliff didn't take his eyes off the picture of Maggie and her cat. "There's no loving pet to come home to anymore."

The wooden frame hung on the wall, slightly crooked. Maggie was crouched on the floor holding her Siamese in her lap, one paw set upon a present under a shining Christmas tree. With such a love for and knowledge of animals, it was no wonder she had had so many pets in her life. The tragedy with Carlisle seemed to have put a halt to her companionship.

This had to be some higher force for this chance encounter to occur. Of all vets in the town, Miss Maggie and her love for cats was the one taking care of his Maximus. It broke his heart to leave the kitten in such a crucial state, but with the lack of time creeping up on them, and such a fortunate opportunity for a good home, Cliff knew what action he had to take.

"If it's all the same with you," he started. "I wouldn't mind leaving him here with you. You seem to know what you're doin' better than I, an'...I trust that you take good care of your cats." Maggie raised her head at the suggestion, each of the band doing the same.

"That's not a bad idea," Bon agreed. "Bein' a vet an' all, she can easily get him the help he needs. Should anything else go wrong."

"You sure?" Maggie asked. "I'd be happy to take over for you, it really would be a while before recovery is complete. But, I don't want you to make a decision you'll regret."

"I wouldn't regret leavin' him in good hands, an' your hands are the best in Vegas." A crimson sheet filled up his face as he realized what left his mouth. A loud barking laugh came from the side of the room, revealing Angus about to fall off the couch. Phil came up behind Cliff, a smirk on his face, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Smooth, Williams."

"You all know what I meant!" he squeaked. "Sorry, I just-meant that I know you'll take good care of him." Maggie grinned again and waved off his sorry way with words.

"I'd be happy to. One more thing, gentlemen, before you leave, maybe I should tell you a little detail you seem to have missed. I noticed when I went in there."

"What's wrong?" Cliff asked.

"That kitten in there is a calico, you can tell by looking at the markings." The band exchanged glances and shrugged.

"Yeah?" Phil asked. "What's that mean?"

"Due to the color combinations of black and an orange brown, the X chromosome is more likely to appear."

"In English please, Socrates," Bon teased. Maggie paused for dramatic effect.

"He's a girl."

The laughing commenced again and Angus was sure he'd need a visit to a doctor soon. The fact that no one else was laughing with him didn't faze him. Bon gave him a funny look, while Cliff put a hand to his face. "A girl?" he asked stunned. All this time he had been looking after a female kitten, and he hadn't noticed. Then again, no one else did either. "Are-are you sure?"

"Of course, I could see her from the operating table. If you look right under the tail, you can see the-"

"Okay, okay, we believe you," Phil finished. "Guess that's why she liked you so much, huh Cliffy?" he chuckled.

Malcolm tapped his foot looking at his watch again. "'Bout fourteen minutes, guys, we ought to get goin'."

"Don't we get to wish Maximus a happy farewell?" Bon asked.

"I think you mean, Maxine," Angus chided in. Cliff shook his head. Maximus would always be the name associated with the critter he saved from the toilet whether it was male or female. Of course he couldn't ask the doctor to continue calling her the same name, but that wasn't up to him anymore anyway. The only thing he could ask for was one last goodbye.

"You can go through that door and look through the window. Surgery isn't done yet, and she can't have any foreign substances in the room with her, so unless you want to change into scrubs real quick you have to stay behind the window." Malcolm was about to deny access to the attire but looked at Cliff. He was closest to the kitten, so it wouldn't make sense for them all to dress up. But maybe...just one...

The clothes fit loosely over the man's frame. The only men's size they had was for a six foot tall strongman, and Cliff wasn't one to take up too much space. Angus and Malcolm would no doubt have to wear a woman's size, furthering their decision to stay behind the glass. The rest of the band stayed behind the window to watch the farewell. Standing by the table, he saw a gruesome sight; a tiny kitten with a hole in her throat, metal tools poking inside. Being asleep she didn't feel any pain, for the pain had been passed onto those who loved her, and wanted the best for her. The man standing beside her felt every last ounce, and took it gladly.

His gloved hand touched her tiny pink nose, and grazed over the fur on her head. It was scary to watch the nurses beside him work, but he knew she would be all right. She was a fighter, and that's when he knew there really was no other name fit for her. She would always be his Maximus.

Six months later...

The pause in the rain proved faithful as the band took their planned day trip to the zoo. When they got there, the lines for entrance were short and there were no crowds barring the way for the men to see. The meerkats were Cliff's favorite. They were small and playful like infantile kittens. The name they adorned also added to his liking. Malcolm thought the kangaroos were the best and he and Phil each picked out a kangaroo from the bunch they thought was the toughest. After Malcolm's kangaroo took a swing at Phil's kangaroo due to one foot stepping outside its own territory, the boys had to be escorted away from the enclosure so they would stop encouraging the fight through their yells of motivation. Bon wanted to hold the boas and pythons in the snake sanctuary. Angus didn't like that idea as much, and headed off in the direction of his favorite, the koalas. Holding one of them didn't seem as dangerous.

"Look, she likes me," he bragged showing off the animal in his arms. The men had yet to catch up with him as they watched Bon handle the snakes a little too close for their liking. Malcolm was the first to reach him, the camera swinging around his neck.

"That yer date for this evenin'?" he smiled. Angus stuck his tongue out. "My my, gettin' Frenchy before dinner are ya'?"

"Shove off, you're just jealous." The other boys caught up soon enough with Bon laughing at his mates' disgust.

"You're such a wanker, Bon."

"It wasn't lookin' to hurt ya'," he responded.

"No, but you were," Phil said setting his water bottle down on the railing. "There's got to be rules that say you can't toss a snake onto a man's shoulders in the exhibit or somethin'. A big sign or somethin'." Angus' koala held on his shoulder with one hand, her claws lightly poking his shoulder while her other hand reached up to his head. "An' you get kicked out forever if you do."

"Hey, what are you doin'? Stop that," Angus said. The koala's baby bottle was of no interest to her, and she instead made a grab at Angus' hair. "Hey, knock it off!"

"Lucky I didn't get caught," Bon smiled cheekily.

"Lucky it didn't wrap around your neck. You had like three of them on you at once," Malcolm pointed out.

"You didn't have to stay to watch, you're a grown man."

"It was funny seein' Phil get scared," he laughed. Phil gave him a light shove.

"I was not scared."

"Ow, hey, what are you doin'?" Angus asked the koala, who now had a handful of Angus' hair in her grasp. "Let go, let go!"

"Screamed like a little girl."

"Did not!" While fighting about whether or not Phil had actually let out a feminine yell, they ignored the real panic induced screams of the man beside them. Angus had to set the baby bottle down on the railing so he could attempt at using both hands to free himself.

"Ow, okay guys? She's really got me over here, I could use some help!"

"I saw the bloke runnin' the place laugh at you, Phil, he heard you loud an' clear," Cliff testified. Phil grabbed a bottle off the railing and slid his other hand in his pocket.

"Fuck him, then. He doesn't know what he heard."

"Ouch! Mal, I could use a hand here!" Malcolm turned to see his brother bent over, one arm around the koala, the other gently pulling on her steel iron grip. A good chunk of hair was deeply clenched.

"Oh, how sweet, she really does like you." The camera was held at a reasonable distance. "Smile!" Angus was able to remove his hand for a split second for the picture, even if only to give his brother a loving finger.

"We'll see you all in a few weeks," Malcolm said holding his side of the car door open. Angus sulked in the passenger seat, holding his hat close over his head. Now that koala had something most fans would kill for, and he would never live this down.

"Bye, Mal. Bye, Ang," Cliff waved. Angus grumbled to himself and buckled his seatbelt. Bon took a seat on his motorcycle and waited until Malcolm and most of Angus had driven out of the way before he left. Cliff and Phil had each taken separate cars so they gave a small farewell to the other before departing.

Opening the backdoor of his car, Phil tossed the bottle inside, then made his way to the front to check for something in his glove box. While he was swimming upside down in registration forms, letters, and speeding tickets, a small grey mammal came loping through the parking lot, her target in line of sight. Distracted by the insults of his vocal range Phil hadn't paid attention to which bottle he grabbed. A few minutes of fruitless searching later, Phil muttered, "Screw it," and closed up the glove box. The backdoor was closed as well and he was on his way out. It wasn't until he got home that he noticed something off through his rearview mirror.

Cliff returned to his house safely. Hanging his jacket up he made a trip to the cabinets and pulled out a glass, pouring his best wine. The rain had picked up some but not enough to drown out the sound of his Beatles record spinning under the needle. It had been a good tour while it lasted though it was good to settle down for a much needed vacation. He took a seat in his armchair by the window and watched the rain pour down the pane. His fireplace, although empty, was accompanied by a log ready to be burned. Warm socks covered his feet which slipped and slid in his hardwood kitchen. It was good to be home.

His comfort was traded for clumsiness as he hurried to pick up his ringing phone. One hand balanced the glass of wine, nearly dropping it when he tripped over the coffee table. Three rings later and he answered. "Hello?"

"...Cliff?"

"Phil?"

"Y-yeah."

"Hey mate, what's goin' on over there?" Phil hadn't answered in the usual quick wit style. His voice croaked, like a prepubescent frog. Cliff waited a few minutes for an answer. "Rudd? You still there?"

"Yeah. Yeah I'm still here." Another pause. "I think it's still here too." Cliff narrowed his eyes and took a drink.

"What's still there?"

"It's takin' up my car an' I'm afraid to get it out by myself. Its claws could kill."

"Phil, you're not makin' any sense, what's up your ass?" Cliff sat down by the coffee table on the couch waiting for a response. "Phil?"

"Remember when you said if I needed help with any stray?"

"Yeah..."

"...does that offer still stand?"