For orthodontia

[It was one of those summer days where Merriell knew he'd be coming home to the doors and windows open and the swamp cooler running; the air was so hot, thick and humid that it was very much tangible, like wading through soup, and he'd already sweat through most of his shirt just driving home from work.

Sure enough, the whole house was open wide when he pulled in, and he was just reaching for the hem of his shirt to pull it right off on his way to the front door when he spotted something standing in the doorway that made him pause.]

Where the hell'd you come from? [The stranger just looked back at him as if it owned the place, then bolted into the house; brow furrowing in confusion, Merriell followed after it.]

Gene? [He sounded as though he could get frustrated if the situation called for it, but didn't want to jump the gun.] We got a cat in the house.

----

[Gene had been unfortunately cooking to get dinner done by the time that Merriell got home -- and it almost was done but not quite. Sometimes the instructions on the box were just a bit not to be believed. He really hated cooking sometimes, or more so how hot the damned kitchen got.

But he wasn't about to complain.]

There's a what? [He called from the kitchen cooking in just his jeans -- at least he wasn't frying anything in oil.]