Blake reacted quickly, splashing nearly half of his beer on the cat and frightening it into fleeing completely.  As it bounded away, he turned around to inspect the damage.  The back of her palm as well as two of her fingers took the brunt of the cat's fury.  Blake grumbled something about running to his truck.  Being a mechanic, he always had some sort of first aide kit nearby, as he was often cack-handed when he was working under the wheels.  He returned with some bandages and a bottle of antibiotic, then took her hand and went to work with the routine.  He'd cut up his own hands enough times he could do the whole procedure with one of them tied behind his back.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF8000">"We'll train her to bark at cats,"</span>he declared, finishing up the binding,<span style="color: #FF8000">"And bathe her with orange-scented shampoo.  Cats hate that."</span><br/><br/>As soon as he was done, Blake retreated indoors to recover, finally unable to contain a sneeze on the way in.  It wasn't often he needed his Benadryl, but when he did, he could never find the damned thing.  It wasn't helping that everything was still in cardboard city.  Knowing Cass, though, she probably sorted it in with his razors or something.  Wherever that was.<br/><br/>Somehow he felt like it was getting worse, too, and that's when the doorbell rang.  It was a pleasant chime, one that probably wouldn't wake him in the middle of the night, (of course, he slept like a rock,) but it was reverberated evenly enough you could hear it even in the basement.  Honestly he was surprised they were already getting visitors.  Whomever it was had only pressed it once, and with a glance he could almost see a tiny frame standing outside through the door's stained glass window.  It was difficult to tell with his eyes now a little puffy and watery.  He could swear he heard another meow.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF8000">"Will you get the door, Cass?"</span>he sniveled,<span style="color: #FF8000">"I can't find my bloody pills."</span>