The bouncer smirked as she watched me casually keep my hand firmly on my gun despite her calling me out. Her less experienced junior was something else.

She gained a frazzled cat look, neck hair standing on end, eyes focusing on me as I stood there. I menacingly shook her with so little effort that I could have been replaced with a cardboard cutout.

It was kind of fun. Casual intimidation was hard, and having someone help was certainly one way to spook someone.

It wasn’t even an overly hostile thing to do, or at least it wasn’t for me.

The big kitten decided to straighten up while Pinky looked over at me confused and then smug, a crime for which I poked her face.

“Pay attention, Pinky,” I told her.

“I’m always paying attention,” Pinky said, “probably more than you realize. It’s fine, Bandit; you don’t need to protect me from her, you goofy murder hobo. She’s here to bring us to the Dam; we go way back. Even if shes kinda rude, she’s just doing her best. Look at her; she’s standing tall and pretending she wasn’t even intimidated at all. Aww, look at her blush!”

She was blushing, blushing and indignant.

“Shut up, you thoughtless airhead,” the scaredy cat said defensively, “I’m not intimidated by a soft woman with a handgun and a blowup doll.”

“That’s rather rude for someone in handgun distance,” I told her casually, letting my social instinct guide me to match her. She was tough; I could tell that. This Dam sounded like the leader of a criminal syndicate. A kind of benevolent crime lord. This was one of her girls, someone who would do work for her.

I didn’t know how Pinky managed to befriend a crime boss or just how criminal the crime was, but presumably, there was a little tomfoolery going on.

“Relax, hotshot, and that goes for you too, new girl,” the bouncer said, not distinguishing who was who, “If the Dam wants to see Bubbles over here, then stop fucking around. She asked to see her, not for you to try and haul her off like she owes us money.”

The Bartender nodded her head with a hummed, ‘Mmmhum,’ “Downt be a meany, just bwing her to the bwak.”

We continued to stare off at one another, two predators matching each other, looking for weakness. Me like a deadpan snake, her a big cat, and she blinked first.

“Creepy fucking reptile,” she said, turning while her hair stood sharper, “Come on then.”

The light sound of music came from the back instead of the frolic of drunk women looking for a good time, a reservation that was more common at the bar.

Pinky, ever herself, skipped over to the door, not a care in the world, and I walked behind her, stalking without limiting my ability to slip into violence. I was willing to bet the Dam wasn’t going to shoot Pinky out of the blue, but it was all show, not tell, when it came to first impressions, and I was willing to show.

We walked through to the back, and I quickly slipped in and packed my extra gear, slinging the belt around my waist as I caught up. I had to grab the whole bin to do it, but I got it clear, and I laid it down quietly.

Gear restored, and our guide none the wiser, I decided to fuck with her a little and slipped on the old over clothes, the battered grey going over the bag as I slung it behind me.

She led us into the back area, only for it to be populated with more cat women. A lot more cat women.

There were the small ones, little cat people moving about the room doing stuff or being toyed with like they were stuffed animals; the big ones, the primary cause for the toying; and the furry ones who seemed all too sneaky. And then there were the normal cats, little meowing and generally acting like space-bound animals, little shoes included.

They were placed about like a dais filled with casual felines, each seemingly waiting but not caring about the wait. I was a little glad I wasn’t here to fight. There were too many cats. They weren’t visually armed, but a knife was enough to kill if you knew what to do with it, and there were a lot of bloody cats; each was a predator.

One of them spotted Pinky and called out, “Oh? Hey, Bubbles made it. Sup Bubbles. Who that with you? A friend?”

“Uh, huh. She helped me out,” Pinky said.

“Cool. Hey ladies, guess who’s back?” The large one called out, voice loud enough to get the room to echo.

“Can you shut up? You’re going to give me a headache-” “We’re not blind-” “I could smell her from-” “Hewow Bubby-” “The window smasher-”

They all started calling out; even the most catlike ones shared short hissy words of either acknowledgement or telling the first speaker to pipe down as we walked around to the focal point of the arranged felines.

There were clumps, and I quickly looked over them. There was a group of tiny kitten-like kin, formed around a few off to the sides around their largest kin. Speckled around were the lonely furred variety, and there were also clumps of the biggest, a pride around a leader. At the head was one tigress with a fluffy cat raised on a padded table before her, numerous kittens crowding their mother's white belly. The big woman petted the relaxed cat. Her eyes closed as the kittens nursed.

Now… Which leader was the Dam?

Off to the side made them important enough to be here, but not the head. The obvious answer was the woman at the front, but she didn’t feel right. The lonesome catgirls were an option, but a bad one; they had no crowd.

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My peacekeeper senses tingled that each answer was wrong. Pointing at invisible details that ranged from their actions to the way they held themselves to their age, it told me that none of the first kin in the room were the leaders here.

Pinky, the all-knowing, bounced past our guide as we approached the front. The guide split off to join a click, only to double-take me in as I gave her my best snake impression.

I slowed as Pinky bounced up to the front, ignoring everyone else in the room, all eyes on her, and pet the cat.

“I heard you were looking for me. I sorted it out,” Pinky told the cat.

I could see the cats eyes flutter open focusing on Pinky before she spoke.

“Thank you,” the cat, the Dam, told Pinky, her voice a mid-range purr. It was wholly abnormal, unfitting the figure. A cat, even an intelligent cat, should not be able to produce it; yet, here it was. Uncaring that her impossible voice existed, she continued, “I knew there was something off about it… Fishy, Fishy… The problem is solved, I take it, and for that, I’m thankful. I would be more thankful if you hadn’t smashed a window, but I am still thankful.”

“Uh… Oops?” Pinky said with a chuckle, her hand drifting from the cat to the kittens. Was it weird that there was a sentient cat breastfeeding?

Maybe?

Ehh. Whatever.

It wasn’t like I cared much for social graces in the first place. Maybe if it was a MILF I would think otherwise, but a cat was not in my freakish portfolio of things I found attractive when I absolutely shouldn’t.

“Oops? It seems intentional to me. Perhaps to pick up your friend there?” She asked as Pinky pet the little kittens who mewed lightly at the touch, the little balls of fur doubt less to young to understand what was going on.

“Well, I mean, it was, but I needed to get her, and you needed it done quickly, and she was in a room, and it would have taken longer, and… And…” Pinky said, looking for words while she seemed to just want to pet the kittens.

“What will I ever do with you? Well, I suppose it's good you’re a friend and not an associate, " the cat said, looking past her to me, taking me in with her too-smart eyes. “So tense… It must have been quite an encounter…” she told me.

“I’m always tense, but I can’t say you're wrong,” I told her.

“Who would have thought hunting ghosts and ghouls could be exciting enough to break a window… Oh, don’t pout like that young kitten; I agreed to let you handle these matters instead of letting my associates. What's a broken window among friends?” She asked.

Pinky looked embarrassed. “Well, I am sorry about the window… I’m glad to see the kittens are well, " she said, quickly sidestepping away from the window talk.

It was adorable to see her change the topic like that, the little goober. It was far easier to see from the sideline, especially when it was someone else getting led away from a topic.

“They are, indeed… But we can save that for after you fixed a thorn in my paw… Let it never be said that the Dam of the redlight district doesn’t pay her dues,” she called, rolling her head back to the great big lion lady behind her, who retrieved a small box, stepped down, kneeled, and proffered it to her.

Pinky clicked the box open, retrieving a credit chit and a few slips of paper, text written across it, though at an angle I couldn’t read.

“Aw, thanks. I can’t wait to get my hands on a few of these,” Pinky told her excitedly, giving little hops of excitement.

“Take it, your reward, for doing me a service… As for your friend here, I’m sorry to say I was not informed and do not have much in the way of a reward for your service ready, nor do I know what would be fitting…” She told me. Her words brought a prickle to the back of my neck as the room watched me from behind.

“That’s fine. I’m a mercenary by trade but I can accept favours or bide time. I don’t mind waiting, its not like I have anywhere else to be.” I told her.

She let out a thoughtful purr, the belting lull of rumbles rolling for a few moments as she considered.

“Perhaps… Perhaps… I could give it some thought… Visit the Bouncer out front when you think on what I could offer. It’s my understanding that you’ve met her. Give your requests to her at your leisure. I’m sure you can think of something, given time…” She said.

The truth was, I could think of quite a few things right now, but as a whole, they were no doubt too big of an ask. I would have to nickel and dime this, but I bet I could make it amenable.

I gave her a nod and let Pinky take the spotlight again, the prickle on the back of my neck leaving. Pinky had packed the gift away, and returned to petting the Dam as the room took some kind of unsaid que. The room loosened up, people begin to talk, and it transformed from meeting, to meet up.

Pinky pet the cat and Kittens, and the other talked among themselves while I listened and waited for Pinky to be done petting a crime lord like she was just a good little kitty cat and managed to get a free beer when some food came it.

It smelled nice, but it also smelled like it was so full of so many spices it would kill my currently not-so-pale ass, so I left the boiling soup and thin slices of meat for the cats and poked Pinky, interrupting her cat time and giving her a look.

“Ha… Oops?” she asked.

“I thought you intended to make me watch shows with you all night,” I told her.

“Well… I mean, yeah, but… I mean, look! She’s so fluffy, I mean, look her, and look at all the little fluffy meat buns,” she told me, gesturing to the kittens as they would somehow inspire some kind of prototypical ‘aww’ at their adorable forms.

I did not because I was more of a cruel bitch than life herself.

“You're stopping her from having dinner; she can obviously use it, considering she’s nursing six kittens. Don’t get between a cat and her kibble.” I told her.

“A- But- Ahh. I guess your right. We were supposed to get a drink and head home,” she said looking at the tiny, now sleeping forms before perking up and saying, “Ooh! Wait, we could totally get to the season finale. Shoot we do need to go.”

She quickly scampered. To go do something, and I gave the strange cat woman a short nod.

“She flies from one thing to the next… And to think, I owe her much. What a strange woman,” she told me.

“Strange she is. We had one hell of a fight tonight. I figure I should tell you there was a lot of damage, and not just to the one warehouse. Fucking Norman.” I told her.

She let out a light hiss that took me a second to realize was a sigh and said, “Good to know… Despite the common understanding that they are just ghost stories, I understand enough to know they can be all too real… I won’t chase after you for damages,” she told me, cooly.

“Yeah. I should also tell you the fight got caught by the guard and some of those black-coated Kuro guys. They might come knocking if they trace the warehouse back to you; it had a weapon shipment with the same weapons that were used in the gunfight a few days ago at the Voiddrome. The missing people probably got out undetected, but there was a long trail of carnage leading right back to them. Figure I should let you know since Pinky thinks you’re not a scumsucker.” I told her.

“Hmm… I can deal with any fallout. If the Blackbirds were looking into it, it must have drawn quite a lot of attention. I can already see the face of the insurer and doubt less the gymnastics they will try to get out from under my paw. He-k he-k he-k, and they say I’m a criminal,” the cat said with a distinctly abnormally cat-like chirp of a laugh.

“I haven’t seen you do anything particularly heinous. Oh, here she comes; I’ll be in touch, Dam.” I told her, turning to face Pinky as she bounced on over with a few bottles of beer under her shoulder in a little basket.

How she had gotten someone to give her either was a mystery, but such was her way.

“I was thinking more along the lines of a glass so we could talk at the bar, Pinky,” I told her.

“Yeah, so we could do that… Or we could go back and drink while we watch stuff. Ehh? What do you think? I think that’s a winning plan.” She told me, eyebrows wiggling.

“You know what?” I told her, “I think that’s a fine plan.”