The first of Malone's obnoxious alarms started going off at 5am. She was decidedly not a morning person and had struggled with early rising to get to work her entire adult life. Her mom always made fun of her about this. As an OR nurse she was able to fall asleep and wake up on command. Her daughter sadly did not inherit that trait of hers. She loved lounging in bet and if not pressed by circumstances would usually emerge from the bedroom well past 11 o'clock in the morning.
More asleep than awake she reached for her phone and dismissed the howling of sirens coming from the device.
Isis stared at her human indignantly. Her feline face betraying an annoyance only a cat could muster. I mean, after all, if you were going to set alarms to wake up, why ignore them right off the bat? Was probably what she thought. She would wait a bit, before joining her efforts with that obnoxious little device that awoke her every morning in ungodly hours and did little to have the same effect on Malone.
A second alarm broke the silence in Malone's bedroom only but ten minutes after the first. Isis fixed the device with feline hatred and her tail began twitching lightly on the bed. A hand quickly quenched the sound of the Ride of the Valkyries emanating from the mobile phone. Fifteen minutes later a third alarm was extinguished in a similar manner. Isis was wide awake on the bed now, alert and clearly irritated as indicated by her snapping tail. She rose gracefully from her lying position and stalked Malone's hand where it lay near the phone. When the fourth alarm engaged, filling the room with the sounds of the Toccata and Fugue, Isis acted swiftly and without mercy. When her human's hand came to dismiss the alarm for the fourth time it was promptly swatted by a cat paw with just the right amount of claw thrown in there.
"Shait, Isis!" Malone grumbled and retracted her hand, the shrill of the Toccata persisting. "You don't have to be mean about it. I'm awake you know." The woman complained blaring half-closed eyes at the cat. The look Isis gave her was the epitome of doubt. Malone made a move for her phone but froze when Isis raised her paw extending her claws fully. "Sheesh... Dictator!" She muttered and sat in bed, rubbing her face with her hands to scrub the last vestiges of slumber from it. She looked at the feline. The alarm was still filling the room with the sound of the Toccata. "May I dismiss the alarm now, oh great one?" She stuck her tongue out at Isis. The cat simply turned her back at Malone and arranged herself on the bed. I'll allow it.
The move stated and Malone retrieved her phone to switch off the alarm.
She got up from the bed and trudged to the bathroom. It was around twenty to six and she had time enough to take a quick shower, grab an even quicker breakfast and leave for the meeting at the Sunday Group. 8am, Jesus! How much crueler can you get? It's an ungodly hour to wake up at! Even more so to be already at work.
At 7am Malone shrugged in her leather jacket, grabbed her helmet, her keys and the overnight bag next to the front door. "Isis..." She called for the cat and the black feline with her striking heterochromian eyes sauntered over and sat neatly in front of Malone. "I'm going to work. You watch over the house. I've asked Miss Flaherty to check up on you if I won't be able to come back tonight." Isis looked at her indignantly. I don't need anyone to check up on me!
Was what that look conveyed. "Yes, yes, I know." Malone sighed as if Isis had spoken so out loud. "But you do need someone to give you food." The ex-FBI agent pointed out. Fine, I'll allow it.
Isis squared Malone with her bi-colored eyes. Malone crouched. "Watch out for unwanted quests." She warned, warmness infusing her Irish blue eyes. "Don't be a hero, Isis, you hear me." She almost pleaded, which had an unexpected effect on the standoffish cat. Her demeanor completely changed and she bumped her head against Malone's outstretched hand. I'll be careful, worrywart. Go do your job. Rid the world of what goes bump in the night!
She instructed with a full body rub against Malone's open palm, flicking her tail cheekily as she walked away.
Malone stood up and shouldered her bag. "Right." She said nodding. "Buy." Exiting the apartment she locked the door and jogged down the stairs to the small inner garage where her Yamaha was stowed away. She put her helmet on, arranged her overnight bag on the back seat, securing it with a net, kicked off the stand and turned the engine on.
At about seven thirty she entered the building housing the offices of the Sunday Group, headphones in her years. The haunting lyrics of the theme song from Harry's Game
escaping her mouth as she sang along. She entered the office not bothering to take out the headphones or stop singing, heading straight for her desk. If anyone was in the room already she wouldn't have noticed them. She was often not in this world when she listened to certain types of music.