<div class="floatleft">(https://abagond.files.wordpress.com/2010/08/takeshi05.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><div style="text-align: right;"><strong>Name:</strong></div></td><td> Bennett "Ben" Smith</td><td></td></tr><tr><td><div style="text-align: right;"><strong>Location:</strong></div></td><td>Los Angeles</td><td></td></tr><tr><td><div style="text-align: right;"><strong>Time:</strong></div></td><td>Day 001, Morning</td><td></td></tr><tr><td><div style="text-align: right;"><strong>Tagging:</strong></div></td><td>N/A</td><td></td></tr></tbody></table><hr/><br/>Some people started their days bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Bennett was not one of those people. It probably hadn't helped that, lately, Bennett's cat had been sleeping curled up in the very center of the bed. This would have been a minor nuisance if said cat had been a housecat. Mouse was not a housecat.<br/><br/>Mouse was a foo lion.<br/><br/>To be fair, when they had met, less than two weeks ago, Mouse had been a bit of a runt compared to the rest of his litter (hence the name Mouse), but every day, he just seemed to grow bigger. Now? He was roughly the size of a Tibetan mastiff. That didn't stop Mouse from<em>acting</em>like a housecat most of the time, though.<br/><br/>For instance, licking Bennett's hair to tell him it was time for Bennett to feed him. Mouse actually could have just<em>said</em>something; Bennett did actually understand what Mouse said. Dragging himself out of bed, Bennett was, not for the first time since acquiring Mouse, relieved that he'd found himself waking refreshed despite surprisingly little sleep ever since his first brush with the supernatural two weeks ago.<br/><br/>As he shuffled into his apartment's kitchen, Mouse rubbed himself up against Bennett's legs, reminding Bennett that his reason for getting up was to feed his cat. So, even before he put the tea on, he set about getting some meat for Mouse to masticate – he'd been trying different meats, different butchers, trying to find what worked best for Mouse, who had been mostly unhelpful when it came to helping Bennett deduce the proper diet for a foo lion.<br/><br/>Hot cup of tea to wake him up, then a shower. While he was under the cascade of hot water, he laid out a plan that would last him, at least until lunch. Stop by the local Chinese bakery. Grab a meatbun for breakfast; it would hold him over until lunchtime. Morning tai chi in the park, then classes. Classes hadn't stopped, but Bennett was having an easier time with them than ever, which was saying something, considering he'd always thrived in academic environments. Jump back for a quick shower, then meeting with Alona for lunch. It was rare that Alona could make time in her own schedule; working in medical research was a demanding time commitment, so Bennett made a point of clearing his schedule. What were the odds, he mused as he got dressed and ready for the day, that this was just to catch up, or that Alona had something specific she wanted to talk about? Fifty-fifty, maybe? Not enough data, really.<br/><br/>As he ducked out the door, Bennett called to Mouse that he'd be back to feed him before noon.<br/><br/>But... well. There was a saying about the best laid plans of mice and men, wasn't there?