I'm going to do a short one, this time.  As usual, characters aren't
mine, just borrowing them. Permission to post on fkfic-l and Mel's
site.  Comments are welcome: tigrlady2u@juno.com
This one takes place *before* Nick and Nat ever met.

Sydney
by KC Smith

  Natalie Lambert climbed out of her car and looked wearily towards the
eastern horizon.  The sun was just beginning to crest, and she was
exhausted.  Being the newest member in the Coroner's Office, she often
put in a lot of extra hours. She wanted to make sure everyone knew that
she could handle whatever came up.
 As she started for the stairs leading to her apartment building, she
heard a faint scratching sound. Looking about, she couldn't figure out
where it had come from. Then she heard a faint cry, like a baby's,
but... different.
 Frowning, she walked around to the side of the stairs. There was a hole
where some of the boards had come off, leading under the stairs. She
removed two more of the boards with ease, then got down on her hands and
knees and crawled through the space.
 She brushed away a spider web, keeping an eye out for rodents, then
crawled closer to the crying sound, now becoming a bit louder. She
sneezed once, when she bumped one of the overhead boards and knocked
loose some dust. At last she found the source of the sound, and her
heart lurched.
 Lying in a cardboard box in the far corner, were four kittens. Three of
them were obviously dead, but the fourth, a little grey, striped one,
was searching frantically, if weakly, for warmth and food.
 Natalie looked about for signs of the mother, but didn't see one.
Carefully, she picked up the tiny kitten and placed it in the breast
pocket of her blouse. Then she crawled out from under the stairs and
stood up.
 She carefully removed the tiny kitten from her pocket, examining it.
She knew it couldn't be more than a few days old, but she wasn't a vet.
She collected her things and headed up the stairs to her apartment.
   Once inside, Natalie found an old towel and her heating pad. She took
one of her clothes baskets and placed the heating pad in the bottom,
then laid the towel over the top of it. She carefully laid the kitten on
the towel, covering it with another,  then headed for the phone.
 After finding an animal hospital that was open at dawn, she called and
spoke to the vet on call. They told her to bring the kitten in, right
away.
 Nat unplugged the heating pad, picked up the basket and her purse, then
headed for the animal hospital.

  Two hours later, Nat returned to her apartment, basket and kitten in
hand. She set the basket on the floor by her bed, then went to the
kitchen.
 The vet had told Nat that a kitten that young could become dehydrated
very easily.  It was important that he be fed every two to three hours,
only half an ounce or so.  As the kitten grew, it would eat more, and
the space between feeding times would increase as well. They had offered
to take the kitten and care for it, but Nat had declined, stating that
she wanted to try it on her own first. She had purchased all of the
items she would need, paid the vet, then headed home.
 Natalie mixed a small amount of the powdered kitten formula into a cup,
then used the tiny funnel she'd purchased to pour the liquid into the
kitten sized bottle. Then she warmed it up under the tap, and took it to
her room.
 The tiny animal was scooting blindly around the basket, yeowling its
protests at being left and hungry. Natalie picked up the kitten with a
small towel and placed the bottle into its mouth. The kitten took a few
moments to figure it out, but suddenly latched onto the bottle and began
drinking it down extremely quickly. Nat's eyes brightened a bit, and she
smiled.

 For the next six weeks, Natalie was up every couple of hours, bottle
feeding the kitten. She'd enlisted the aid of her sister-in-law, Sarah,
in caring for the kitten while she was at work.
 At his six week 'birthday', Natalie took the kitten back to the vet.
She was pleased to hear that the kitten was extremely healthy and ready
to start weaning from the bottle. The vet also suggested that Nat start
training him to use a litter box.
 Nat took the kitten home, and carried him up to her apartment. The
clothes basket still resided next to her bed, complete with heating pad
and fresh linen, daily. She'd bought an old stuffed animal at a
second-hand store, washed it and dried it, then placed it in the basket
with the kitten. She'd also placed a wind-up clock in the basket, so
that the kitten would be comforted by the ticking sound.
 One evening, as Nat came out of the bathroom, ready for work, she
noticed that the kitten was no longer in the basket.  In a slight moment
of panic, she began searching for the kitten. She finally found him,
batting at the strings of the afghan hanging from her sofa. Smiling, Nat
picked him up.
 "You scared mommy half to death. Why'd you run off like that?" Nat held
the kitten at eye-level, then kissed his soft little head several times.
"Come on, let's get you something to eat." She carried him into the
kitchen and filled his bowl with dry kitten food. Then she poured milk
over the top of it and warmed it in the microwave. After letting it set
for about five minutes, Nat placed the kitten in front of the bowl. He
immediately put a paw on either side of the bowl, and began scarfing
down his food.
 After that, Natalie found that it was becoming a challenge to keep
track of him. He could easily climb in and out of his basket, so she was
never exactly sure where she would find him.
 Training him to use the litter box was an even bigger challenge. But
after walking into the bathroom at two in the afternoon (her equivalent
to two in the morning), and stepping in one of his 'gifts', she became
more determined than ever. After two weeks, the little guy was finally
starting to get the idea.

 Natalie's brother, Richard, and his family had come to visit one
afternoon, when Nat was off. Sarah and Amy, Nat's niece, spent a long
time cooing at, and playing with, the kitten.
 Richard shook his head. "So, what are you going to call him?" He asked
his sister, as she set down a tray of cookies, milk and coffee.
 "I've decided to call him 'Sydney'." Nat told him, picking up her
coffee.
 "Sydney? What kind of name is that for a cat?" Richard asked.
 Nat shrugged. "I don't know. I just like it. Anyway, he's *my* cat. I
can name him anything I want to."
 Richard raised an eyebrow at her. "Okay, fine. Whatever you say."
 Natalie picked Sydney up and cradled him like a baby, gently stroking
behind his ears. She smiled when he began to purr. "Sydney's my baby."
She said, kissing the him on the head several times. "Aren't you
sweetie?" Nat asked, as if she were speaking to a baby.
 Richard shook his head again, laughing. "I don't know Nat. Working
nights in a morgue, being mother to a cat... what's next?  If you're not
careful, you're going to wind up in an institution for the chronically
boring."
 Nat stuck her tongue out at him, then she sat down on the sofa and
continued to cuddle Sydney. Let her brother think what he liked. Nat
knew that someday, her life was going to be different. She just didn't
know when, or how.

End
tigrlady2u@juno.com

Author's note:
   I actually took this tale from personal experience. One of our cats
had kittens (four), but only one survived, because she kept pushing them
away.  I have been hand feeding, day and night, this tiny little wonder,
for the last six weeks and he is doing great.
 My kittens name?  Milagro. It means 'miracle' in Spanish.  :-)  KC
Smith