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It wasn't closed, not yet -- not when the rush of post-Christmas shoppers had only just cleared out, when yellow-tag sales were still firmly in effect, when every hand was called to deck -- but it was at least calmer, most of the floor associates slipping away to do aisle checks and start tidying up. Theoretically, Veer should have done the same, lateral movement into Geek Squad or not, but...

But he rarely did what he should have.

Instead he'd find an excuse to slip back to the help desk, to poke around behind the counter, to keep his head down at out of site. Avoid the attention of the managers, currently in a frenzy over some not-entirely-unexpected shrinkage. Draw in a deep breath.

And catch the sound of something thumping in the computer room, loud enough to make him blink and turn, go very still.

There it was again.

With a frown, he straightened. Squinted, briefly, through the glass to see if he could find the source, and when he couldn't, reached slowly through the cracked door to flick the lights on.

For a moment, Veer wasn't sure what he was looking at -- the room, small, packed tight by a perimeter of busted electronics, was too bright, left him blinking his own eyes into focus. When they settled on Ash, almost near the door, his surprise melted into something else: confusion, then annoyance, mouth twisting into a slow frown.

Cats, generally, didn't give two shits about computers, because they couldn't eat them, ******** them, or sleep on them. At least not when they were turned off. So seeing a cat hauling a laptop across the floor, trailing cables in its wake, was a strange sight indeed.

His coworkers probably would have just stared at her in glassy-eyed shock, ignorant of what they were looking at. Veer, in contrast, had met several cats, so his immediate reaction was to step into the room the rest of the way and close the door firmly.

She lacked thumbs. What would she do now?

"There's not a chance in hell I'm paying to replace that, so you better put it back right ******** now."

Veer wasn't exactly a cat person anyway -- even before his encounters with cats of the talking variety, the four-legged lunatic who lived with him and Quinn and devoured a goodly amount of their pizza supply. He snorted at the cute look and finally stepped in farther. On the way, he caught her with one toe, gently shoving her a few steps away, perhaps just to show man's mastery over beast, and closed the door behind him so she couldn't go anywhere. Not yet.

Slowly, he stooped to pick up the box. At some point, there had been a tag attached to it, saying who it belonged to, what needed to be done, and when pickup was expected. Now said tag was gone, shed somewhere along the way. He made a sharp, frustrated ********." He twisted to look at her, eyes narrowed, assessing. "Did you eat the tag."

"Ha." It was sharp, certain, his eyes narrowing as he pointed down to the beast and strode further into the room. Talking cats should have freaked him out, perhaps, but -- no, instead he just shook his head, reaching out one toe to nudge Ash back. Just to remind her than he was bigger than her. And had opposable thumbs.

"I knew it. With the star and everything." Except then he paused, very still himself, because he didn't know which side this cat was on, and didn't exactly want to out himself, either. He only needed a beat to figure out a cover, squinting down at her.

"You're one of those terrorists huh?"

"I met one a couple times." It was casual, easy -- Veer was a better-than-average liar, especially when he could cover up any nervous tells by turning his face away from her, from rummaging around under the counter in search of the missing service ticket. Trying to put everything back into place. After all, if he didn't have the computer where it was supposed to be, he'd be the one screamed at by some crazy b***h on the phone --

He found it, with a triumphant noise, and twisted to grab the computer -- shooting her a narrow sort of look. "Her star was black, though."

Surely not -- and right about now, he was bigger than her, in the position of power, and was unlikely to give up his place. Squinting at the cat, Veer moved pointedly to get the machine out of her grasp and settle it out of the way, as if he thought somehow he'd take human shape [a ridiculous idea] to grab it and run.

"You've obviously never worked tech support." A beat. "Obviously, being that you're a ******** cat and you don't even have thumbs."

He smacked the ticket against the box and squinted at her, sizing her up. "You're not cute enough for me to get yelled at over. So the question is if you'll leave nicely or I have to grab you by the scruff of the neck."

For just a moment, it seemed like Veer was considering it -- quiet, his eyebrows raised and hand gone still against the counter. On the surface, it was a very appealing offer. An hour, maybe, of dealing with s**t, and then he'd never really have to do work again, and wouldn't that be grand? But slowly, his eyebrows pulled down again and he frowned at the cat.

"Yeah, sure you would. No, I don't think so. I can do it myself, and better." And with that he stepped toward her, gesturing toward the closed door. "March in that direction, and right out of the store. I'll get the doors for you."

"If we run into each other here, though, I will drop kick you." It was offered cheerfully, as Veer got the door for her. He would hold it open and then, slowly, follow her out -- a forced march, still more than willing to grab her by the scuff of the neck if needed. Once she was gone, He locked all the doors behind them, to keep her from getting back in.

Not that he knew, of course, how she'd gotten in to start.