𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒕

“don’t worry about me, sal,” truth was, the fabric was heavy --- he had no idea how sally had made it this far already, but he wasn’t complaining... yet. at her reminder, he nods slowly, “oh yeah... the wedding.” it’s not that he wasn’t aware of it, it’s that --- he’d put off thinking about it, okay? it was a sticky stituation, what with o’malley being friends with sulley, worrying for lady, and most importantly, caring for tramp. it wasn’t something he was keen on. he hopes it doesn’t reflect in his voice as he asks, “so how’s that goin’? whole wedding thing.”

the shrug o’malley gives is both careless and assured. “for as long as i’ve had the place.” the fact was that he hadn’t had his place for long, given that just this time last year he was homeless. “ain’t got much that’d be considered valuable. i’m not too worried.” a brief laugh as he remembers his most valuable possession, one he’d come across out of luck. “but --- if you ever hear about anyone burglin’ an upright piano, gimme a heads up.”

“patience and faith, kid.” o’malley’s turns his head to watch stitch prepare himself for the lesson. “y’ready for your assignment? should you choose to accept it.” he turns back to the sea, eyes closing as he basks in the light of a fading day. “hope you been practicing because there might be a pop quiz.”

with all the grace of a startled cat, o’malley stops a few steps from the music room. he wasn’t expecting to be heard over the beautiful music coming from berlioz’s deft hands and yet --- here they were. o’malley’s affections for duchess were no secret and his awkwardness with her children was less so. “thanks for the heads up.” after a pause where he considers leaving, he walks to the doorway, leaning against it as casual as he can with how awkward he feels. “that was a nice tune there, kid. did you write it yourself?”

this isn’t the first time he’s encountered the redhead while wandering and something tells him it won’t be the last. he glances over at her, feet dangling off the pier as he leans back seeming fully at ease in the moonlight. “heya kid,” he greets. “floatin’ around again, huh?”

at first glance, o’malley is just glad to see sally walking around downtown---then he remembers that she & physical labor DO NOT mix well. he finds himself rushing over, arms extended to catch the heavy-looking bolts of fabric she’s stumbling with. “whoa, whoa,” o’malley sets steadying hands on her grip, hefting the load himself. “sal, c’mon, i got it. what’re you---what’s happenin’ that needs all this fabric, kid?”

“workin’ hard or hardly workin’?” a grin takes over o’malley’s face before he can say anything else, smiling at his own joke. still, it doesn’t interrupt his hands as he slides a paper bag onto the table, nudging it boo’s way. “brought you somethin’ to help with the studying. a snack for a dedicated student.”

“y’ready for your lesson, kid?” o’malley dusts off a spot on the bench, giving a glance to the setting sun across the distant water. sure, bringing stitch the beach as a music lesson wasn’t orthodox, but---since when was anything o’malley did ‘orthodox’? he’s barely given a second thought to their meeting spot, taking a seat and relaxing almost immediately. “c’mon, don’t be a stranger. pull up a bench.”

nodding at her words, o’malley makes a face as if to say that it doesn’t matter. “i’ve found it’s never about being good at dancin’. it’s mostly about being good at enjoying yourself.” a reassuring smile is thrown in her direction before he shrugs, continues with, “if y’ever find yourself lookin’ for good music or places to go, i got a few suggestions. just lemme know.”

he gives an understanding nod as she explains, smiling as she promises to drop by. “that’s the kinda enthusiasm i’m lookin’ for!” o’malley gives a chuckle and shake of his head. “any lover of swing is a friend of mine. i’m glad you get it. and as long as you hear the music, door’s open for anyone.”

“yeah, no problem at all, man,” o’malley answers earnestly. he’s always glad to make anyone feel at ease, especially someone like panic. “yeah, pass on through whenever. maybe i’ll even take down the guitar and play somethin’, who knows?” he shrugs, a twinkle in his eye as if he knows full well that he will.

the answer she gives is short and sweet, but unsatisfactory for him. it seems evasive---and while he’s not one to pry into people’s business, he’d hoped tinka would give him something more to work with. he tries not to frown as he busies his hands with cleaning the counter, looking to seem casual as he asks, “maybe yes or maybe no? sounds like you aren’t sure ‘bout it. ‘s everythin’ okay over on your end?”

“anythin’ you can bring, i’ll take,” he nods earnestly, thinking about leftovers or extras. it’s a habit from his days on the streets, but now more than ever, he’s thinking about anything he can spare to the homeless shelter. “could always use some more of everythin’. includin’ company.” o’malley flashes a friendly smile as he watches her. “door’s always open if you hear the music soundin’. don’t be a stranger.”

“no muss, no fuss. i’ll put you down for a rain check.” o’malley gives her a a smile as he takes the rag from over his shoulder and wipes down the counter, giving no second thought to the conversation that came easy to him. “how’s your nephew? hopin’  the answer is fine and enjoying my cooking, ‘cause someone’s got to.” he’s always been grateful to her for her generosity when it comes to handing out pastries at the end of the day---and the least he can do is lend a listening ear in return. “and the cafe, all fine?”

amusement makes its way onto his face, chuckle bubbling to the surface as she speaks. he shakes his head, tapping the counter between them. “bring whatever your generous heart wants to. season of giving ‘nd all that---but i won’t say no to wine.” he wouldn’t ever look a gift horse in the mouth when it came to any free alcohol. “i’ll play all your favorites for a bottle of wine. maybe even pick up a guitar and sing you a song for it.”