Gin-A cat's life [Detective Conan fanfic, Vermouth x Gin]

Chapter 4 And his shame deepens ...

Disclaimer: Detective Conan belongs to Gosho Aoyama and associated parties. I do not make money nor own anything with the exception of my own original characters.

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Chapter 4 And his shame deepens ...

Vermouth loved bringing him to the film set. Lounging and napping on a spare actor chair became an everyday routine for him, and this morning was no different. He didn't mind doing nothing as much as he thought. As a cat, he earned the right to sleep sixteen hours a day.

That was until he found himself in a predicament. Back then, whenever he felt like relieving himself, he could sneak out to a corner somewhere, and no one would be the wiser. Now, he had the unfortunate condition of being a ... celebrity cat.

He yawned. There! He could hear ten phones snapping countless pictures of him. What was wrong with people? At first, there was even a crowd asking for his signatures, aka his pawprints. Fortunately, Vermouth, aka Sharon, had an unparalleled grip over Hollywood and the entertainment industry. She was practically royalty here. After a few excuses, people generally left him alone. That woman was quite protective of him.

Despite taking obscene pictures of him on the toilet and showing the crew, Vermouth kept them for her sole entertainment, which he didn't mind as much. Not that she hadn't seen worse. But social media was a different beast. Oversharing was a badge of honor. Anyone could post anything. Once it was out there, there was no putting the genie back in the bottle.

As soon as Vermouth finished her scene, he stood in his chair and howled at her. "Take me to the toilet, woman! Now! You'd better understand me, or I'd take a dump somewhere in your massive closets. And you wouldn't find out for years!"

He squeezed his eyes shut, realizing what had just come out of his mouth. He felt his humanity slipping away by the seconds. By the time he opened his eyes, Vermouth had already picked him up and sauntered away. All seemed well except for a little detail never crossing his mind.

With horror, he looked up at the ladies' sign. Of course, why would Vermouth bring him to the men's room anyway?

Of all the evil things he had done in his life, he had never once violated a woman's privacy, and he didn't plan to start now. There was an unspoken hierarchy in the criminal world. Certain crimes translated to power and dominance, while others only befitted the like of cockroaches scurrying in the sewer, not human beings.

He sighed as Vermouth pushed the door open.

The horde of women congregated around the two of them. "Sharon! What's Oscar doing here?"

"He needs to go tinkle."

It was one thing for a proud man like him to use the ladies' room, it was another to be treated like a little boy. He briefly squeezed his eyes shut, wallowing in his boundless shame. Eyes followed him to the stall, cameras crowding his view. Standing on the porcelain bowl, he roared, "KNOCK IT OFF!"

Vermouth flashed a smile at the curious crowd and closed the door behind her, allowing him some privacy. "Sorry. He's a bit shy."

He sighed in relief when Vermouth successfully distracted the have-nothing-better-to-do people with some juicy gossip. He flicked his tail up and mumbled to himself. "Not bad, woman. I'll forgive your transgression."

Then, that woman proceeded to shatter his trust by picking him up and wiping his paws like a helpless baby in front of awestruck strangers. He would bite her fingers off if she wasn't his sole meal ticket.