Alex was soft for the bloody kitten, Gene thought, and that alone was why he never should've let her keep it. Not at CID, at any rate; if she needed something to mother, she could keep it at her own sodding flat. (At least then it wouldn't be pissing on his chair at every opportunity.)

"All right," he grumbled, knowing that Alex would keep nagging him till he gave in. "But if y'wind up starin' at a plate of spaghetti kittenese t'morrow night, don' say I didn't warn ya."