Rating:

Not Rated

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid

Relationships:

Kip Grady/Scott Hunter, Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Scott Hunter & Ilya Rozanov, Eric Bennett & Scott Hunter & Carter Vaughn

Characters:

Scott Hunter (Game Changers), Kip Grady, Eric Bennett, Kyle Swift, Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Troy Barrett, Harris Drover, Wyatt Hayes, Carter Vaughn, Luca Haas

Additional Tags:

New York Admirals (Game Changers), Ottawa Centaurs (Game Changers), accidental pet acquisition, Cat distribution system in action, The Kingfisher (Game Changers), Domestic Fluff, Short & Sweet

Language:

English

Series:

Part 12 of Troublemakers

Stats:

Published: 2026-03-19 Words: 5,995 Chapters: 1/1

The New Admiral

Summary

Scott and Kip's family of two becomes a family of three.

(Aka, the cat distribution system finds Skip)

Notes

Since I took a small break from this series and my last fic was a serial killer AU, I decided to go the complete opposite and do a cute fic.

Don't worry, the next fic will not be so diabetic inducing. I have already decided next fic in this series is going to be focused on Troy and let's just say, I want to tie up some loose threads of his story which I don't think Rachel will touch.

Scott had never considered himself a ‘Pet’ person.

That was not to say he didn't like animals. Scott adored animals. He liked greeting his neighbours and their dogs, whenever he was heading out for his run and happened across them.

Carter had two dogs who he would occasionally bring to practice, small terriers called Mulder and Scully (Scott wasn't sure where Carter kept them in his apartment and if he had to guess, based on the fact he only ever saw the dogs when Gloria was in town, they probably were Vaughny’s girlfriends pets rather than his) and Scott enjoyed hanging out and playing with them whenever they bounded into the locker room.

He had Lucky, Adam and Riley’s dog, glued to his side the last time Kip and he had travelled to Nova Scotia for the two’s wedding last year. (Riley had joked that Scott must have kept ham in his pocket the whole trip, given how focused Lucky had been)

He knew a few of his other teammates also had animals. One of their new rookies apparently had a side gig, breeding exotic fish and he was fairly sure their second goalie, Kidman, had a parrot. (Or maybe the bird calls he made sometimes when on the ice were just the famous goalie insanity)

Rozanov had been a menace since getting a dog. Scott knew the man would practically blow up Kip’s phone with pictures of the (ok yes, super adorable) puppy whenever she happened to do something he deemed the best.

So yes, Scott liked animals. But he had never considered a pet for himself. His life was too busy and it had never felt fair to bring an animal into that.

That’s not to say he hadn’t discussed it with Kip. It had been one of the many, many things they had talked about as they slowly weaved their lives together.

At the time, Kip had shared his mindset that his apartment just wasn’t built for an animal. Their lives were too erratic, too busy. And even though Kip had a more regular schedule than Scott who had to travel for work, he was still working and it wasn’t fair to put all the labour on him to care for an animal. So they had dropped the subject. At least, for that moment.

The day their family of two had become a family of three had been an interesting one, to say the least.

It had been just after a game. The Admirals vs. the Centaurs on home ice.

Although he would rather be torn apart by rabid fans than admit it, playing against the Centaurs was one of Scott’s favourite games of the season, even before Shane Hollander had been added to the other teams roster.

Even before their hot streak, the Centaurs were a decent team to play against. There wasn’t any unpleasantness on the ice, no dirty tactics or slurs muttered when the refs weren’t paying attention. Just pure talent and respect. In fact, apart from Rozanov’s annoying chirps which everyone secretly agreed were more funny than hurtful, the team was great. And even Rozanov had pulled his head in a little when a chirp went too far against a rookie and Scott threatened to ban him from the Kingfisher (Ilya Rozanov was many things but he was not stupid or prepared to risk losing access to his favourite New York bar over a crass comment)

The first game against Ottawa in the new season had been great. It had been fast and tough and even though the Admirals had lost in overtime, it hadn’t felt like a disappointment. Frankly, the Centaurs had done everything to earn the win and there was no shame in admitting it. Which was why Scott had no problems with inviting the visiting team to the Kingfisher after the game ended.

Most of the Admirals were already going, since it had become their hangout after games anyway, to go see Eric Bennett and have a laugh with their old goalie and unsurprisingly, the other team had accepted the invitation and the Kingfisher had become crowded with hockey players. Benny, with his old Goalie foresight, had closed the place down to the public and it had become a massive post game party.

That wasn’t to say it was all hockey players. The Centaurs players had brought a few friends. Their social media manager had been on the trip (Scott was fairly sure that was pre-planned so Harris Drover could come to the Kingfisher) as well as a few of the partners of the players.

Kip had invited a few of his friends too, not that he needed to, since two of his friend group, Kyle and Maria, were technically WAGs. But a few of his rugby buddies had also turned up. Scott hadn’t been sure why until he noticed Kip pointing Luca Haas towards an attractive young rugby player who, if he remembered correctly, was a photographer named Sam. (He remembered overhearing the kid talking to Benny about photography once)

Scott was fairly sure Kip was playing matchmaker and he wasn’t going to stop him. They all knew Luca was a talented player with a great future and would probably have to look for a new team in a few years time, since Ottawa would not be able to afford his next contract if they wanted to keep Hayes, Boodram, Hollander and Rozanov on the books. The kid had already been to New York a few times, both for games and for sponsorship visits and had definitely taken to the city (Twice now, he had stayed in Scott and Kip’s guest room and well, Scott was happy to play unofficial Billet Family for the kid. It pissed Rozanov off to no end anyway, even if Scott suspected he had asked Kip for them to take the kid in while he was in the city) Luca could do worse than look at New York as an option when he did have to move teams and there was no harm in giving him another reason to like the city.

It was also nice that the rest of the Admirals had been just as excited to hang out with the Centaurs as the Centaurs seemed to be to hang out with the Admirals.

Tommy Andersson had been thrilled to buy Wyatt Hayes a drink. They had all seen the Goalie Fight between Hayes and Drapeau during the infamous Ottawa vs. Montreal match. Scott had heard the guy was still off the ice on concussion watch from the nasty smackdown and since it was proved Drapeau had instigated the fight by sucker punching Luca Haas from behind, everyone agreed he deserved it.

And even if the fight hadn’t been justified, frankly, no one had any sympathy for him. Drapeau was not popular. Tommy had even lamented that he wouldn’t get a crack at the guy and Benny had declared Hayes would drink free in the Kingfisher whenever he was in New York for putting that bastard in hospital. The Goalie code was mysterious as it was scary.

Carter Vaughn was doing his usual thing, being the life of the party and chatting happily with everyone. He had talked Superheroes movies with Hayes, the two lambasting the most recent Crimson Dagger movie as being pretentious. He bought a drink for Wiebe, and spent an insanely long time learning the process of brewing cider from Harris. He had even let Boodram school him on the correct temperatures for barbequing various meats and vegetables and Scott was fairly sure there was a practical lesson happening during their next trip to Ottawa, based on the smiles he could see on both Carter and Bood’s faces.

Kyle had jumped behind the bar and Scott swore, he almost managed to give Rozanov a heart attack. Scott knew the Russian had been on Kip for years to get the bar to stock what he called ‘good’ vodka and learning that Kyle had been using it for cocktails had just about killed the man. But the fact he only used it for a cocktail he called ‘The Hollanov’ (It was a weird fan name Ottawa had given Shane and Roz) which was basically a glorified Moscow Mule using Ginger Ale and Vodka with a few citrus syrups Kyle had made, had sent the man into a tail spin of emotions, both good and bad. Kyle had put it on the menu as a mark of support after the video leak and it was one of their best sellers. Besides, a portion of the sales went to the Irina Foundation.

Even Shane had been relaxed in a way Scott hadn’t seen before. The move to Ottawa had been good for him and Scott finally felt like he was seeing the real man behind the mask of professional hockey player. The person Shane had kept locked down to try and be the perfect player. Friendly, a little snarky, a little cheeky. Maybe not the best at chirping but with a few zingers under his belt. Just an all round good guy.

Harris had also taken his chance to speak with Kyle and last Scott looked, the two were heads bent over a piece of paper, designing a new cocktail incorporating Harris’ family’s cider. (Scott thought he heard something about a wedding drink but he hadn’t asked. He was fairly sure Troy hadn’t proposed yet and if Harris was planning to do it, he didn’t want to ruin the surprise. Troy deserved nice things, especially with the first trial date for Dallas Kent finally being set and the knowledge that Troy would almost certainly be called to testify against his former friend)

As the night had progressed and everyone had relaxed, Scott had taken the opportunity to pull out the Hollander Jersey he had brought for Shane’s first Centaurs game. He hadn’t been able to stick around after the game to say hi, since his and Kip’s flight back to New York had been right after the final siren but he had already gotten it framed with plans to hang it on the wall with a few other jerseys, including Scott and Benny’s.

Harris had even captured the moment on his phone, the picture of all the players, Centaurs and Admirals, crowded around the bar with the jersey almost immediately making its way onto the Centaur’s social media and shared on the Kingfishers page.

In all, it was a fun night with good people.

Scott had been a little sad to see the night draw to a close, but he had also been relieved when, just after one in the morning, he was told Kip had ordered a car to pick them up and take them home. Rozanov had, of course, made a crack about him turning into a pumpkin and Scott had corrected him, much to Shane and Kip’s amusement (“It’s midnight Rozanov. If you are going to insult me, at least get the time right”)

Unfortunately, most of the Centaurs were also trying to get back to their hotel, since they had a midday flight home and the wait for the car was long. The bar had become stuffy and hot with so many bodies inside and Scott had definitely seen Rozanov pull Shane against him in a way that was not so innocent (If you can’t see the Russian’s hands, Scott knew, they were definitely in a place they shouldn’t be in public. The look on Shane’s face had practically confirmed it. Everyone knew they needed to get these drunk idiots back to their own room asap) so Scott had stepped out with Kip into the small alleyway in the back where the delivery drivers went. The cool air had been welcome and sobering even if the nearby bins had made the area an assault on Scott’s nose. Not that he was going to complain. He would much rather the smell at this point then be back in the hot bar with a group of sweaty hockey players waiting for their rides.

Besides, the cold meant Kip was cuddling up to him. Scott was never going to discourage Kip from physical contact and besides, he had just spent a few hours in close contact with Rozanov chirping him and dragging his husband away from his side with a knowing smirk. He deserved to feel a little territorial.

Wrapping an arm around Kip, Scott had been happy to fall into a comfortable silence, preparing to wait for the call to tell them the car was out the front.

Kip had been muttering something about the empty delivery crates being left too close to the door of the Kingfisher, a common annoyance of his, despite the fact he didn’t work there anymore when he fell silent.

Scott hadn’t noticed at first, how Kip had turned to glance down the alleyway. In fact, he didn’t even realise something was wrong until Kip pulled away from his side, moving down the alleyway.

“Kip?” Scott had called out after him. They were both slightly intoxicated but Scott knew from experience, that generally made Kip more clingy, not less.

“Shhh.” Kip had replied, not looking back at Scott as he made his way past the dumpster.

Scott frowned but followed, unsure what his husband was doing. The stink was terrible as he neared the bins, but he ignored it, his frown growing as he lost sight of Kip, the man ducking down and out of sight behind a pile of boxes.

Peeking over the pile, he saw Kip squatting down, his hand against the metal of the dumpster to maintain balance. He was staring at something.

Scott heard it first, rather than saw it. A small, high pitched whining noise. Then a movement caught his eye. A small creature was moving slowly, making sad noises as it did.

“Shit.” Scott heard Kip say. “It’s a kitten.”

Scott looked closer at the creature. It appeared his husband was right. A tiny kitten, probably no bigger than Scott’s hand, was laying in the gap between the dumpster and the wall. It was covered in muck and panting in distress. Scott watched as Kip reached his hand out slowly to the cat which let out a little hiss but didn’t move.

“I think it's hurt.” Kip added. He glanced up at Scott. “Stay here a minute. I’m going to go inside and get some things to help.”

Then, without waiting for an argument, Kip rose to his feet, heading back into the bar and leaving Scott alone with the tiny creature.

Scott didn’t know much about cats but even he could see the creature was in some distress. Trying to stay as quiet as possible and not startle it, Scott edged his way into the space Kip had just vacated.

The creature stared at him. It let out another little hiss followed by a small whining sound but Scott didn’t move. If it was injured, he didn’t want it to hurt itself more.

After a few moments, the cat moved, trying to rise from its position on the ground. It seemed to struggle to get its paws under it and Scott couldn’t help but notice the obvious limp, how it tried to keep its weight off its back paw. The creature took a few limping steps towards him, the hissing replaced by a pitiful mewing noise. Scott could practically feel the creature begging him for help.

Slowly, he raised his hand towards the little thing. It flinched away at the sudden movement and Scott froze. Then, it began its approach again. Scott remained frozen, letting the cat make its own mind about him. Finally, after what felt like ages, he felt the sticky fur brush his fingers, the creature trying to press itself against his hand. Trying to keep his movements soft, Scott carefully tilted his hand until he could hook his fingers under the kitten's belly. Then, he gently lifted the cat up a little to help it keep its weight off its injured limb.

He remained like that for a few more minutes, the kitten squirmed but didn’t try to escape. Maybe it knew he was trying to help.

Finally, Kip returned, an empty cardboard box under his arm. Inside, Scott could see a few clean bar towels.

“Is it still there?” Kip asked, slowing his approach.

“I’ve got it.” Scott said. Slowly, he raised his hand, lifting the kitten up. The creature let out a pitiful cry and Scott froze but he had lifted it up enough that Kip was able to slide the box under Scott’s hand, allowing him to lower the creature onto the soft towel.

“I told Kyle and he said he will send me the address for a 24 hour vet nearby.” Kip said. “Everyone else has been told to stay inside until we get the kitten safe.” He glanced at the kitten. “How old do you think it is?”

“Young.” Scott replied. The little creature was now laying on the towel, shaking in fear and Scott didn’t blame it. It must be terrified.

“Eric said he would get everyone who was sober enough to check the alleyway once we got this one out of here. See if there are anymore.”

Scott pushed down the thought of Benny ordering a dozen drunk hockey players to search a dirty alleyway for any cats. It would be amusing in any other circumstances, if it wasn’t for the clearly frightened and hurt animal staring at him.

Then Scott felt his phone buzz in his pocket, telling him his car had arrived. It felt weird leaving now but Scott knew, if there were more kittens out here, the others would find them. He and Kip had to get home but they could ask the driver to detour so they could drop the kitten off at the vet.

Rising to his feet, Scott was surprised when Kip picked up the box and pressed it into his arms.

“Here. Hold onto it. I’ll give the driver the address.” Kip said, already pulling out his own phone.

Scott followed Kip out of the alleyway and towards a car. The driver jumped out of the driver's seat as they approached, seeing Scott juggling the box and opened the door for him, allowing Scott to slide into the backseat with a quick thank you. Kip slipped into the car beside Scott.

Setting the box on his lap, Scott tried to ignore the kitten staring up at him. Beside him, Kip sent out a text to Kyle and Eric, telling them they were leaving. A few minutes later, he received a reply. Scott could see by the look on his face, it wasn’t good news.

“The guys checked the alleyway and the street. They found an older cat but it was already dead. Looks like it was hit by a car or something. It was probably the mom. They couldn’t find any other kittens.” He said, a hint of sadness in his voice.

Scott glanced again at the kitten in the box. The baby which had lost its mom.

“Poor thing.” He muttered and the kitten let out another little mew. Scott wondered if it knew.

A few minutes later, the car pulled up outside a building. Scott slipped out of his seat, following Kip into the building, heading into what looked like a waiting room. A young man at the desk blinked sleepily at them.

“You the guys with the kitten? Some guy called Kyle called and said someone was coming in.” He said.

Kip nodded and the guy nodded to a door.

“Claire is already in there, waiting for you.” He said.

Scott followed Kip through the door and into a small room. A woman was in the room, seated on a small chair and typing something on her computer. She glanced up as they entered.

“Good morning.” She said, rising from her seat and sounding remarkably happy for almost 2am in the morning. “I’m Claire. I heard you guys found a kitten?”

Scott nodded as Kip quickly introduced them and explained the situation. Claire nodded along before directing Scott to put the box on the table. He then stepped back and watched as the woman took the tiny cat out of the box, coo’ing at it as she checked it over.

Finally, she placed the creature back in the box.

"So your little girl here has definitely hurt her leg. Hopefully it's nothing worse than a small break. She’s also way too young to be away from her mom and looks like she’s underweight. I would like to keep her here for an x-ray and observations for a few hours and clean her up a bit. If you guys are happy to leave her here, we can call you when we have more information and you can decide what you want to do.” She said.

“What do you mean?” Scott asked, looking confused. Why would they need to tell her what to do, to treat the cat.

“Well, if the break is worse than it looks, it may require surgery. Some people don’t like to spend that kind of money so the next option may be amputation. But that’s the worst case scenario. Hopefully the break isn’t that bad and it won’t come to that.”

Kip looked at Scott before turning to the vet, an odd look on his face.

“We just found her.” he said. “She’s not ours.”

Claire looked confused for a moment before she realised.

“Oh, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to assume you guys would want her. I can call around to some shelters and see if anyone can take her in. And what they want to do.”

Scott felt his heart break a little. Even though he wasn’t an animal person, he knew the local shelters were full and underfunded. Some of the guys had attended a small fundraiser a few months back, trying to raise money and promote adoption.

“Would they be able to help her?” He asked. Scott didn’t want to assume someone out there would pay money for a random stray kitten. But he also didn’t want to assume Claire would treat the kitten for free.

“I am sure they will.” She said.

She tried to give Scott a reassuring smile but he was good at reading people. He could see the doubt in her face. If no one wanted to take in the kitten, what would happen?

Scott bit his lip, thinking for a moment.

“It’s fine.” He decided. “I’ll leave our details. Please call us when you know more so we can decide what to do.”

Kip glanced at him and Scott took a hold of his hand. Then Kip nodded in understanding. Claire smiled, looking grateful.

“Ok. Hopefully we can contact you in a few hours with an update.” She said.

With that, they were ushered out of the examination room. Scott gave his number to the guy behind the reception desk and then they returned to the apartment, falling into bed. And yet, Scott found he couldn’t sleep.

His mind kept going back to the tiny kitten, alone and scared. Hurt and probably starving. He knew all too well what at least part of that was like. He remembered when he was 14, breaking two ribs when he got hit in the chest by a puck during some horseplay. He had always played hockey, probably from the moment he could balance in skates but after his parents died, he had thrown everything he had into the sport. It was his escape. Until his ribs had fractured and he had been rushed to hospital. His coach and a few of his teammates' parents had visited him but for the most part, he had been left alone and scared and in pain. Wishing his parents would walk through that door of the examination room and comfort him.

Scott was sure it was very different for felines but still, the idea of any creature facing that fear and pain alone was terrible.

Finally, he received the call. The Admirals had a free day before they returned to training, ready to come back from their loss. Scott had planned for his once weekly sleep in, followed by watching a documentary or two with his husband, since Kip didn’t have work until the afternoon. There was a new series which focused on the Jack the Ripper case and Scott had been hooked since it started.

And yet, he had struggled to focus on the show, his mind still on the events of that morning. In fact, he had barely paid any attention, instead spending his time googling local shelters. Scott had been disturbed to learn most of the shelters in his area did not have a ‘no kill’ policy. That had left him spiraling until he got the call to return to the vets office. Kip had to head to work so Scott was left along with the promise that he wouldn’t do anything rash (Scott wasn’t certain what Kip meant by that when his better half made him promise but he was going to try his best not to do anything too dumb)

The new vet on shift, a man called Andy, had greeted him warmly, immediately identifying himself as a hockey fan who knew who Scott was and after Scott had promised to sign a trading card the man kept in his wallet, had explained that the kitten had a small break in her leg. Nothing serious but it would require a cast and since she was so young, only five to six weeks old by his estimation, she would also require feedings of a special formula every few hours.

The morning spent looking into shelters had left Scott feeling cold to the idea of taking her to one so he didn’t protest, simply nodding along as Andy explained how to make the formula, how to keep the kitten clean and fed and stop her from moving too much while her leg healed.

Then he had been handed a list, a few bags of different products, a sleepy kitten in a brand-new carrier cage and pushed out the door to fend for himself. Unsure what else to do, Scott had taken the animal home.

Once back in the apartment, Scott had set up the small guest bathroom for the tiny creature, laying down towels and water and began googling frantically, trying to figure out how he was going to manage this.

It seemed that if the kitten was allowed to heal and grow a little, her chances at being accepted by a shelter and adopted were far better than if they took her now, with such an obvious injury. All Scott had to do was keep her safe until that time.

So he stayed in the bathroom with her, watching as she explored her new surroundings. Scott hadn’t known what colour she was when he first found her, the muck on her coat discolouring her fur but now she was cleaned up, he could see she was a light grey colour, with the exception of two white front paws and a small white dot on her chest. Despite the heavy looking cast the vet had put on her back leg, she seemed curious and eager to explore. Very different from the terrified creature they had found.

After two hours, Scott finally felt comfortable enough to leave her alone for a few minutes to go make the formula the vet recommended. While out in the kitchen, he grabbed his tablet. If he was going to sit in the bathroom for a while, he would do what he could to make himself as comfortable as possible. Besides, Kip was at work and the only thing Scott really had to do that day was call Benny at some point to discuss a few changes they wanted to the Kingfisher. The advantage of being the silent partner in their business was that Scott didn’t need to attend the bar every single day and could trust Benny to do what he thought was right.

Once he was done with the call, Scott returned to the bathroom and after feeding the kitten, had settled himself down, leaning against the door of the shower, his tablet propped against the sink and returned to watching his documentary, only half keeping an eye on the kitten.

Scott liked true crime documentaries so it wasn’t long before he became engrossed in the show, despite being an amateur Ripperologist and already knowing the story well. In fact, he had almost forgotten the kitten was even there until he felt a sharp pain in his leg. While he had been distracted, the kitten had decided to claw her way up Scott’s side to snuggle in the crook of his arm.

Scott had frozen up, not wanting to move in case the kitten was startled and fell. But she seemed content with her new spot, pawing at his sleeve a few times before settling down. Then, despite her small size, she let out a loud rumbling purr.

Scott had tried to remain as still as possible, only relaxing a little once he was sure the kitten was safe. It was surprisingly relaxing, feeling the gentle rumbling against his arm as he continued to watch his documentary.

Hours passed, Scott barely noticing as he sat with the kitten in his arms but finally, he was brought back to the present when he heard the front door open and Kip call his name. In his arms, the kitten woke, blinking sleepily at him as if to ask what was going on. Scott, trying to keep his voice soft so as not to startle her, had called out to Kip, directing him to the bathroom.

Soon enough, Kip was opening the door and glancing inside, taking in the sight of Scott, relaxing on the bathroom floor with a tiny kitten dozing on him. Thankfully Kip had understood the situation and slowly and quietly closed the door to not startle the cat.

“So the appointment went well, huh?” He asked in a quiet voice as Scott shifted a little, trying not to jolt the animal.

“She’s too young for a shelter.” He stated. Scott didn’t know how to explain to Kip that he didn’t feel right about handing her over. Not yet. “Give it a few weeks and she will be ready to find a home.”

“Uh ha.” Kip said. He sounded like he was laughing at Scott, even as his face remained impassive.

“It's fine. We can take care of her until then.” Scott tried to keep the defensive tone out of his voice. Kip just smiled before slowly kneeling down beside his husband. He reached out and gently stroked the grey fur. Again, the kitten let out a loud purr.

“And what if we didn’t take her to a shelter?” Kip asked.

Scott glanced at him.

“You mean keep her?” He asked. “We can’t.”

“Why not?” Kip asked. “I’ve heard of the cat distribution system. It looks like it was our time.”

Scott gave him a long look, even as he felt needle like claws dig into his arm. The kitten had been doing this on and off for the last few hours and Scott had learnt, it was a sign of contentment.

“Would you be ok with that?” Scott finally asked as Kip finally sat down, shuffling into position next to him.

“Sure.” The other man said. “I’m happy to be a cat dad with you.”

Scott tried not to let the word ‘dad’ affect him. Because this may not be a human child but the kitten was still a baby. And they were talking about taking permanent responsibility for her.

“Are you ok with it?” Kip finally asked. Scott found himself nodding because yes, he was more than ok with taking this kitten in. Kip just smiled. He was always so good at reading Scott.

“So, what do you want to call her?” Kip finally asked after a long pause.

Scott glanced down at the kitten. He hadn’t even considered that she would need a name. What do people even name cats? Eventually he settled on a name that had been on his mind, probably due to the documentary he had just binged.

“Ummm…. How about Catherine?” He asked.

Kip looked at him then pointedly looked at his tablet, where the presenter was talking about the canonical five. Of course, one of the victims happened to be named Catherine.

“It's a pretty name.” Scott said, feeling defensive. “If I ever had a daughter, I might have named her Catherine. Cathy as a nickname.”

Kip just smirked before again reaching over to pat the cat.

“Catherine Hunter.” He said as the tiny kitten opened her eyes and glanced up at him. She let out a small mewing sound, like she agreed with the name. “Welcome to the family.”

—---

To be fair to Scott, what happened next, although predictable, was still not normal. Since he had practice and Kip had work the next day and Catherine couldn’t be left alone for that long, he had to get a little creative to figure out how to take care of her.

Eventually, he had messaged the Admirals Social Media Manager, Christina, asking if she would help. She was always hanging around when they were on the ice, ready to try and spring some new internet trend on the team so giving her something to do had seemed like a good idea at the time. Of course, the woman had immediately agreed.

He should have guessed, after arriving at the rink, Catherine safely in her carrier, that word had gotten around when Vaughny approached, looking like a kid on Christmas day. Immediately, the other man had zeroed in on the kitten.

Vaughny had peppered Scott with a million questions, wanting to know everything about the kitten and had almost squealed when Scott had told him her name, proclaiming that she was named after his favourite sci-fi hero, Katherine Janeway.

Scott knew vaguely who that was, since he had been made to watch the show's final with the man when it had aired. Carter was a huge sci-fi nerd and it was unsurprising he had found a connection there.

What he hadn’t expected was for Vaughny to happily proclaim that it meant the kitten was named after a ‘real’ Admiral? (Scott honestly remembered very little about the show but he guessed Carter was right) of course, Christina had arrived as Vaughny was proclaiming this and got sucked into the conversation about Star Trek and its many, many spin offs.

Eventually, Scott had simply walked away, dropping Cathy off in Christina’s office with everything she needed before making his way to the locker room to get ready. Murdock would not accept any excuses for being late from his team captain.

By the time practice had finished the damage had been done, Christina making a whole Instagram account for the Admirals newest recruit and (according to her) team cat.

Many fans had thought it was a joke until the account was quickly followed by the official New York Admirals account, the Ottawa Centaurs account (Christina must have messaged Harris, gushing about the kitten), the Centaurs team dogs account, ‘Centaur Chiron’, an account called ‘Anya Rozanov’ and since Christina had limited access to Scott’s official account, the Scott Hunter account.

And like that, Scott found his small family of two becoming a family of three, with the addition of a small kitten with a loud purr, a big heart and an even bigger Instagram following.

(He wasn’t ever going to say it aloud but since the account had exploded in popularity, he was now aiming to get more followers then Rozanov’s dogs account)

And honestly, as Scott returned home to curl up on the couch with his husband and his new fur baby, he was content.