Spirk (with a small dose of Pinto)

“What?” Even as Spock asked the question, the cats claws dug into his skin painfully, but Spock dared not let him go.

“My cat. That cat belongs to my wife and me,” the man explained. “I saw the notices about looking for the cat’s owners.” He grinned. “Well, you found me!”

Automatically, Spock took a backwards step. He couldn’t even explain why.

“So.” The man held out his hands. “Give him over.”

“What is the cat’s name?” Spock heard himself ask.

“Hmm?” The man frowned. “The name?”

“Yes. You should know his name.”

“Well, of course I know his name! It’s…Kirk.”

Spock’s blood ran cold. It made no sense. It was likely a mere coincidence that this man would name this cat Kirk. And yet…Spock rarely observed coincidences.

“If it’s a reward you want—”

“No, I do not want a reward. I do not believe this is your cat.”

The man’s face reddened. “How dare you! Give me that cat.”

Bombay hissed and this time as he scratched at Spock’s neck, he had no choice but to release the cat. But rather than fly past the fedora man, Bombay ran toward Spock’s bedroom, presumably to hide.

“I demand that you leave my house,” Spock said coldly.

“I want that cat, it belongs to me!”

“I think not.”

The man stepped closer to Spock, who’d had enough. He reached up and pinched the man’s shoulders and watched as he slid to the floor, unconscious.

A while later, he went to his bedroom to seek out Bombay’s hiding place. He crouched down by the bed.

“It is all right. He is gone, taken off by the authorities for trespassing.”

He could see the cat’s glowing eyes under the bed.

Taking a chance, though strange it was, Spock said, “Come, Jim. It is all right. I will help you.”

And then the cat slunk out from under the bed and onto Spock’s lap on the floor.