Mister Nibs and Mouse
copyright 2011 Faeriemage
Sometimes the most ordinary people are extraordinary. Sometimes they aren't even people at all.

You never know what you have 'til it's gone. That is never more true than when you truly ignore all the good things in your life, and suddenly it's not your life any more.

One of the things I was really missing right now was my casual strength. If I were still in my old body, it wouldn't have been an issue to lift the unconscious body of my mother up off the floor and move her to the couch, or even the bed in her room.

As it was, I'm amazed that I didn't break something with all the pushing and pulling that was necessary to get her just inside the house enough to close the door.

As I was closing said door, a cream, gray, and rust colored blur slipped in.

You really should have let my mother finish explaining things, Mouse.

"So, you're now blaming me for my mother being unconscious?"

Of course. The human mind isn't resilient enough to handle magic. Why do you think none of your kind never was able to do any?

"So, I take it witches never really existed? That's good to know."

Weeeell

"Well, what?"

It wasn't the witch who was doing magic, per se. . .

I started laughing, with that touch of a hysterical tone to it, again. I was insane. That was it, insane. I would wake up in a padded cell and I would be Brad again.

Snap out of it man!

"If you'll remember I'm no longer a man, Mr. Nibs."

Don't say that!

"Say what?"

My name. Don't say it aloud. It feels weird when someone speaks your True Name, and you could give other cats power over me.

"It didn't seem to bother you before. . ."

That's because it wasn't my true name before. Mom changed it on me.

"Wait, how can a true name change? Isn't it supposed to reflect your core being or something?"

What are you talking about? Of course a true name can change. I mean, how else are you supposed to get your exes off your back? You humans and your concepts of permanence. A true name is simply a way to invoke someone, you know, get their attention.

"So, naming Cthulu. . .oh crap."

Nah, I changed your brain chemistry which made it so the imprint of the true name no longer worked for you. You have to imprint a true name to invoke it. Mom gave you my true name, I think because she wanted me to try and fix this as much as I could.

"So, basically, no matter where you are, when I say Mr. Nibs. . ."

Mr. Nibs shook himself and glared at me. Yes, I know where you are, and that you're calling. This is so humiliating. To be at the beck and call of a human. Makes me feel so much like. . .a dog.

He wailed a bit, and I felt my mom stirring next to me.

"Bradly Emerson Card, why do you look like a woman, and why are you talking to that cat?"

Oh, crap. Mom's pissed

"Mom, um, well, you see, apparently I can hear cat's thoughts, and they're a lot more complicated than you'd think, and well, um, Nibs here kinda turned me into a girl."

She was out like a light again.

Like I said, the human mind can't handle magic.

"Then how come I'm not gibbering in a corner somewhere."

Remember the witches you mentioned earlier?

"Yeah. . ."

It was all this misunderstanding on the part of humans. You see it's the human who is the familiar, not the cat. You, my friend, are a familiar.

"Um, okay?"

You're basically catnip on two legs. Most of you never actually awaken enough to be able to actually talk, but you're all pleasant to be around.

"But, I don't even like cats."

That's never stopped us before. So, back to my almost story. In times past we used our magic to protect our familiars, and since all you people are way to humanocentric you all thought it was the familiar doing the magic. It unfortunately led to a lot of you getting killed.

"But why? I mean, if you did magic openly back then, how come humans can't even comprehend it now."

Look, it's probably that practical human mind you all are always going on about. Mostly cats just go with it, and live with the consequences. We don't need to know the why, only that it is a fact that we deal with.

"So the only people who are going to be able to hear my story without freaking out or totally discounting it as fiction. . ."

Other familiars? That's about the size of it.

"My Gran was a familiar, wasn't she?"

Now she gets it. Mom mentioned your inheritance after all.

"Then why isn't my mom. . ."

Look, I'm tired of answering questions, you want to do your job while we wait for your mom to wake up, again?

He plopped himself in my lap, and I began to skritch and scratch away at his neck and ears. I paid attention to what I was doing this time, and I could feel a sort of energy sparking along my fingertips. Nothing huge, and easily overlooked, but there none the less.

Mr. Nibs purred at me, oh, yeah. Right there. Purr-fect.

"That was a really bad pun."

My mom was beginning to get up again. "Brad?"

"Yeah, Mom."

"And you're now somehow a woman?"

"Yes, Mom."

"And if we go into it again I'm probably going to faint?"

I nodded with a little smile.

"Reminds me of some conversations I had with your Gran, actually. You look so much like her now."

"Apparently it's my inheritance." My half smile faded thinking of the other parts of my inheritance that were gone.

"Still thinking of the stuff Julia stole from you?"

"Yeah, the police still have no leads on her location, and she hasn't pawned it yet."

"I'm sorry sweetie. Well, I can look at you now without my mind going for a little trip, so why don't you help your mother up off the floor."

I unceremoniously dumped Mr. Nibs on the floor as I was getting up and he wailed at me.

"Well, excuse me, your highness, you'll just have to get over me having other things to do."

"Brad, were you really having a conversation with that cat earlier?"

I helped Mom to sit on the couch before answering.

"Yes," I said cautiously.

"Ok, I figured as much. Your Gran used to do that all the time. Some people even thought she might be a witch."

I chuckled at this, well I tried to chuckle, but it came out more high pitched and tittering. I giggled, okay.

"Well, you seem to be adjusting well. Better than I thought you would. And you look so young."

"I think it's the face. Gran always looked years younger than she was."

"You could easily pass as eighteen or nineteen."

"What are you getting at, Mom."

"You should go back to college, dear."

"Not this again, Mom. We've been over it. I'm too old. . ."

"Bradly Emmerson Card! Do not take that tone of voice with me young lady. You are never too old to get your education. And you don't look too old anymore."

"But, I have no records, no birth certificate. Nothing."

She gave me a little smirk. "Actually, we have everything we need to get started."

"Wha. . ?"

"A couple of years ago, on the insistence of one of my genealogy friends, I had a false birth certificate issued"

"How?"

"Well, certain counties were a little slow getting their records computerized. If you knew which states and counties were like that, you could. . .finesse the system a little. No details, but I had a record of live birth created for a female child that died within days of birth. The child would be seventeen now."

"Mom, if she's dead. . ."

"The child never existed. The clerk took my word for it as a registered genealogist."

"Mom! I'm shocked at your duplicity."

"I always felt a little guilty about it. I had done this before when I had ample evidence of a birth, and the birth certificate did not exist, but I'd never been dishonest about it."

"So, what you're saying, is that we have a birth certificate for a seventeen year old that doesn't exist."

"Yep."

"I don't know if I can be seventeen again, mom. All the angst and such. Especially now that I'm a girl."

"Oh stop. You know you'll enjoy having this part of your life back. And maybe you can even start playing basketball again."

And just like that, my happy mood was gone. The real reason I'd dropped out of school was that I couldn't take the looks of pity any more.

"Mom, you know I can't play anymore."

"You couldn't play anymore. Now? How do we know unless you try?"

"But I'm so out of practice."

"Tell you what. Let's see if some of your sisters old clothes fit you, since you look ridiculous in those slacks and that white button shirt, and then we'll go try and get a social security card issued for your birth certificate. When we're done with that, we'll shoot some hoops and see what you have in you."

A thought occurred to me, "Mom, if I'm seventeen, aren't I going to need a parent or legal guardian along with me?"

"About that. . .I told the clerk I needed it for one of my own children."

I blinked at her. "You mean. . .you're still my mom?"

"I know, weird, right."

You humans and your paper trails. If you'd been born a cat this would never have been a problem.

"O hush, you."

Mom looked at me quizzically, but didn't say anything. I shrugged. What else could I do?

We walked upstairs to my youngest sister's room. Well actually, if I was only seventeen, then she was a year and a half older than me.

That was a little weird to think about.

Mom began throwing clothing at me for me to try on. I have to admit I had no idea what I was doing, or what the pieces of cloth and lace were called.

First things first, though. I stripped out of my clothing and got a good look at my body for the first time since this change.

I wasn't half bad looking.

Mr. Nibs saw my appraising glances and broke into my thoughts, Hey, what did you expect? Cats are perfect after all.

He began grooming himself in the doorway. I snorted at his comment.

The panties fit rather nicely. Apparently all she'd left behind were bikini cut in cotton. Oh well, I could live with a purple behind, especially if no one ever saw it. I was too used to my underwear being white, and a lot looser. I was a boxers man. Silk I'll have you know.

I completely forgot my panties in my efforts to get my bra situated.

No, clasping it in the back wasn't a problem for me, and no I'm not saying why. It was the fit. My breasts felt like they were either smooshed, pinched, or both.

"Mom!" I exclaimed when she reached up to try adjusting it.

"Hush, you're my daughter now. I have a pair of my own and I've never been attracted to them."

She tugged and adjusted leaving me blushing all the way to my toes before she shook her head, "Oh well, it will have to do 'til we can get you out to the store to buy some more."

"There's no way I'm wearing this, Mom." I said holding the denim skirt up to my waist, "It's way too short."

"you're not a man anymore, honey. A lot of your clothing will be worn down here," she illustrated by moving the skirt down to my hips.

She realized I would be showing about an inch and a half of panty over the top and went rummaging through the drawers and pulled out a ribbed cotton tank top in a pale green.

It hugged me like a second skin and went all the way down below my hips, almost to the bottom of my behind actually.

I slipped up the skirt, and I have to say that the look wasn't half bad. I slipped on a denim half jacket, or at list that's how it felt. It probably came down to just above my waist.

Good look on you, Mouse. I can tell you that there will be a lot of guys out there wanting to play Predator and Prey.

I blushed again, and my body got in on the act again.

I slipped on some short crew socks and a pair of dark flats. My mom pulled my hair into a ponytail at the back of my head, and I have to admit; I really didn't look bad.

Not only that, but I looked a bit like a seventeen year old. Ok, one who was dressed by her Mom. I needed to figure out what seventeen year olds were wearing these days so I could begin to form my own sense of style.

I was still a bit uncomfortable with how short the skirt was. I'd say how far above my knees it came if it wasn't easier to say that it only came about five inches below my behind. Did I mention that I'm a bit taller than my sister still?

And I think my butt was bigger, or at least looked like it from my current angle.

My breasts were definitely a little bigger, which made me happy. My sister's were always too small for my taste.

My mom retrieved my keys from my pants pocket.

"Mom!"

"You're much too young for a beamer now, Annalyce."

"Annalyce?"

"Your new name, Annalyce Brianna Card."

"My initials are ABC!!!!"

"Well, you'll just have to marry someone with a last name beginning with something other than C then, honey." She realized what she'd just said and her mouth dropped open.

"I'm so sorry, dear. That just slipped out."

"Yeah, don't think it hasn't occurred to me. I get to play catcher from now on."

"You haven't played catcher before have you?" Mom asked me with a shrewd look.

"Mom!? I can't believe you asked me that!"

"Annalyce, think of it from my point of view. She was kind of butch and, well, you know."

"Forceful and oversexed?"

"Exactly. Your dad was convinced she was a transvestite or something. Said her jaw line was too strong."

"Same thing could be said about, Sarah, Mom."

"You shouldn't talk about your sister that way, even if it's true, Annalyce," she said with a giggle.

I try not to wince. "Mom, if I have to be called Annalyce or Brianna the rest of my life, I'll shoot myself."

She lost her smile instantly, "honey, you wouldn't"

"No, I wouldn't. I can't imagining my life actually getting bad enough that I seriously consider suicide. It's a figure of speech."

"How 'bout Anna, then? It's in both your names."

I made a face of disgust.

"Mom, just call me Abbie."

"Huh?"

"AB, Ah Be, Abbie."

She blinked at me and then smiled, "that is so you, I mean the old. . .you know what I mean."

"Yes, Mom. I know exactly what you mean."

Back in the day I'd been the nickname king, self appointed of course. I could come up with an appropriate, and unique, nickname for anyone. Well, looks like I just did it for myself.

The skirt let me feel how my hips swayed, and it was distracting to say the least. I tried to stop it a couple of times as I went down the hall, but it was so uncomfortable that I just let it go.

Me-yeow! If you were a cat. . .

"Don't even go there, Mr. Nibs."

Stop doing that!

"What? Mr. Nibs?"

Mr. Nibs caterwauled at the top of his lungs so I felt it was about time that I Left him to his own devices. Besides. It was about time I started making my new persona legal.

---

Finally. . .I thought he'd never. . .I mean she'd never leave. Look, I know that I'm the one you're really here to see, and since I got top billing it's amazing that we got a chapter and a half without my input. You humans can be so inefficient sometimes.

Besides, I'm sure that none of you really wanted to hear about how Mouse stood in line for three hours so she could be told to fill out a form and then wait in line for another three hours so she could be told it would come in the mail within two weeks.

Her social security card that is.

See, how hard was that. Two paragraphs and done.

If I'd let Mouse tell it, we'd be here tomorrow waiting for her to describe the exact shade of the jumper the lady behind the counter was wearing or some such.

Honestly, can you imagine a less efficient manner of. . .

"Feracles, honestly. You and I have some unfinished business to take care of." I looked around the house quickly, not seeing my Mom in the immediate vicinity, I began to 'groom' myself. I figure she'd get the message eventually and leave me in peace.

"Feracles!"

Have I mentioned yet how much I hate static electricity? Oh, that's right, this is the first time it's been my POV as it were.

Mom zapped me in me bum. Yes, I think in a bad English accent.

"Pay attention. You know I made a blood pack with Eloise Pritchard to look after all of her kith and kin. And the first opportunity you get you turn her grandson into her granddaughter. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Look, he caught me by surprise and I said Cthulu."

"You WHAT! Have you begun worshiping with that destroyer cult again! So help me I'll bring you back into the arms of Bast if I have to rend you limb from limb to do it!"

"Mother!"

"Whining isn't becoming of a cat. Have you been spending too much time with humans? Have you forgotten what it truly means to be a cat?"

"Oh, no. Not again mom. Please tell me you're not going to do what I think you're going to do."

"No, not this week. Your brother never recovered when I did it to him. He was never the same cat again."

Ok, that was a close one. Mom was a really powerful operator, and she was able to pull off spells that made the rest of us look like minute old kittens.

It really made me wonder why she'd lied to mouse about. . .

"Shhh, you daft boy. Spoilers are unbecoming of a Cat. Those are for hack writers and dead refrigerators."

"Um, Mom? Are the refrigerators spoilers themselves, not the generators of said spoilers?"

"It's not nice to contradict your mother."

When she gets like this there's no arguing with her, so I didn't even try.

"Ok, Mom. So, what is my punishment then?"

"You get to be Mouse's permanently. You are going to watch over her until such time as she's not a danger to herself or others."

"You mean until she's DEAD! You've got to be kidding!"

"Nope, and she better die of natural causes, or I will be following through on my earlier 'threat'."

I was about to hop over to where she currently was, but a final thought stopped me.

"She must never know the true nature of that spell, Feracles. Do you understand me?"

I gulped, and then responded to her. "I understand mom."

How do I get myself into these things. Seriously. All I was doing was getting a good scratch behind the ears and poof; my entire world is thrown topsy-turvy. Leave it to humans to complicate a good ear scratch.

Speaking of which, I felt the need for a good scratching coming upon me.

I hopped right into Mouse's lap.

"Now, Mouse, before you cry out, these people will think it's perfectly natural for me to be here."

/What? Why not make yourself invisible?/

"Simple, because it is easier to trick a human to ignore you, than it is to trick light to ignore you. Light has a much longer attention span. It's very cat-like in that regard."

Mouse snorted at me. They were in the middle of their second wait to go up to the counter. The room was furnished in 'Institutional: for public consumption' manner. Meaning hard plastic chairs, beige walls, and no AC to speak of. A small fan oscillated on a counter, just keeping the air moving enough so that you realized how hot it was.

Basically it felt like Lucifer designed the place and then decided it was too cruel even for him.

So, I'm overheating in my long winter coat, but getting the scratching of a lifetime. I don't know what it is, but a scratch by a really hot woman is so much better than one from a man. Well, at least I think so.

She finally gets called up, so I decide to ride up there on her shoulders. She talked human to the lady behind the counter, and realized it would be two weeks before she could get another card, and not until after that would she be able to get a new ID. She had time enough. She was only seventeen after all, or as soon as she got that ID she would be.

"Feracles!?"

Crap, I wasn't supposed to say that. I've gotta run before my mom really let's me have it. Ciao