The Silent Kind

Episode siiiiiiixxxxxx

Pink light was just beginning to color the horizon, barely visible through the wall of trees. Birds had just started chirping. Deer were still grazing in the meadow. The cats had not yet begun to sing the song of their people, begging to be let out. It was twilight. That magic hour just before dawn when the night still lingers like a dream fog over the coming day. It was Keith's favorite time. Fresh from sleep and safe from bother given how so few other people were usually conscious at this hour. When he'd lived in the city it was the only quiet he got. Out here it was quiet most of the time but he still liked the dawn.

Keith laid in bed listening to the morning birdsong as he drifted between waking and sleep. He would need to get up eventually. He had a shift today. But that wasn't for a few hours and it was warm in the blankets. Pidge hadn't managed to steal them all, or crowd him to the edge of the bed, or even dig a knee into his back. He was about to silently thank her for that when he heard something clatter from the kitchen. Maybe a pan. The cats didn't usually get into the cabinet. Then he heard dishes rattling. Ah. Pidge hadn't gone to bed. That girl was hopeless without him.

Just as Keith started to slide out of the bed and bring her in, a muffled murmur came from the blankets beside him. He froze. A brief moment of panic ripped through him but when he looked down it was Pidge. Her glasses were half hanging off the nightstand and there was a shirt on the lamp but she'd crawled to bed sometime in the night. Keith couldn't help a soft smile at the impressive cowlick that stood up on the back of her head or the way she had somehow tangled herself in two of their three blankets. If he had all day he could spend it just watching her so he spared a few moments at least to appreciate the sight. The cats probably wouldn't set the kitchen on fire.

It was the sound of the refrigerator opening that got Keith to worry. He was pretty sure the cats couldn't do that. At least he hoped not. What could it be though? Keith ruled out racoon for the lack of alien sounds coming from the cats. They'd pitched quite the hissy fit when Pidge left the door open overnight and a racoon got inside a few years back. Bear maybe? Please not a bear. Keith threw on a t-shirt and pair of jeans as he listened at the bedroom door trying to convince himself it wasn't a bear. Would explain why the dog wasn't making noise. She knew better than to mess with bears.

If Keith was anyone else he would be able to call the local game warden to take care of the problem. But who does the game warden call? He'd feel a lot better about this if he were in uniform. At least he didn't have to go out unarmed. Keith grabbed the shotgun from a rack in the corner just in case, snatching up a few shells and loading it as he crept out of the bedroom and across the foyer, trying not to think of the damage he'd seen bears do.

When he got to the curtain that separated the foyer from living room kitchen he paused a moment to listen. There was an almost rhythmic swishing and occasional clink of plates. None of the usual grunting and knocking things over. This was a very dainty bear. And then it did something no bear should. It sang. In Spanish.

"Suerte que en el sur hayas nacido y que burlemos las distancias, suerte que es haberte conocido y por ti amar tierras extrañas."

Not a bear. Keith's mind adjusted and his grip tightened on the stock of the shotgun. Just the absolute dumbest burglar to ever burgle. Who the fuck robs a house with the obviously marked 'I am a fucking law enforcement officer' truck parked in the driveway? Keith wished his handcuffs weren't in the guestroom. He would have to make do with duct tape. So bit back a frustrated curse as he pushed open the curtain with the barrel of the shotgun and followed it through to sneak up on the tall, dark skinned man rummaging through his fridge. A pothead, that's who. Criminals make no goddamn sense.

"Freeze!" Keith used his cop voice to bark at the man who jumped with a choked gasp and started to reel back. "I said freeze," Keith growled and punctuated it with the very audible and unmistakable sound of cocking the shotgun.