Auto Observations at Ground Level
          ATF Alternate Reality
          By: mog maria.mogavero@optiva.com

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          DISCLAIMER: Characters belong to Mirisch/Watson/Trilogy Prod/CBS-just
          borrowing, not making money
          RATING: G
          AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is a little blurb from the ATF alternate universe.
          Credit for the cars goes entirely to Ruby1481 (a real DEAR) (well, except
          for Ezra's...sorry, but I just had to. Forgive me?).

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          The small orange and white tabby knew the parking lot inside and out.  What
          time which cars would have the warmest hoods, who set alarms, what time the
          friendly people came to the cars throughout the day - and the unfriendly
          ones.

          He was a well-fed little housecat who cruised the city blocks by day and
          slept, curled next to the warm body of a college student named John at
          night.  The cat's tag read, Cuervo.  And anyone who parked in the garage
          housed in the ATF building knew him.

          He cruised to the cool confines of the cement structure spying the dark blue
          Jeep first.  The vehicle hadn't seen doors in years, and its well-worn paint
          job only slightly helped one not notice the scratched soft material that
          acted as marginal protection against the elements.

          Jumping into the back, he ignored the junk mail offering Vin Tanner a
          Platinum Card at 5% interest and scarfed down the tuna fish that was there
          in the small plastic dish.  The owner of the Jeep was the most reliable for
          leaving food.  And the cat certainly didn't wish to offend him by not taking
          advantage of the gift.

          Finishing off the canned fish, Cuervo made his way to a large black club-cab
          Dodge Ram.  The windows were tinted a smoky gray and the cat slid easily
          through the open moon roof.  He sniffed around the long black, leather
          duster that lay folded on the back seat.

          The coat was a recent addition, showing up after the truck had returned from
          a two-week absence.  Cuervo was fascinated by the smell of the new leather
          and spent a fair amount of time rubbing against the soft fabric, just so
          that everyone would know who it really belonged to.

          The small cat groomed himself slightly before easing out of the truck and
          past a Kawasaki Ninja EX500.  Cuervo knew he had already missed the young
          man who piloted the bike and figured he'd have to make sure to be back later
          on in the day to get some of those head scratchies that the human doled out
          so well.

          Next to the lean motorcycle was the most interesting of the cars in that
          row.  The beat-up Chevy pick-up could always be depended on for a plethora
          of fascinating things to smell, play with and more often than not, snack on.
          Cuervo knew that when the 'man of the head scratchies' came he would
          inevitably be accompanied by the man with the mustache.

          And although he was usually loud, he always took time to give some affection
          to the small cat.

          Cuervo was especially proud of the catnip mouse he had found in the truck
          one morning and this day, like so many others before, he gripped the stuffed
          rodent in his mouth and carried it to a brown and beige Ford Explorer a few
          spaces down.

          The human that drove this vehicle was one of the most affectionate of the
          hundreds of those that came through the garage.  He had scored major points
          with the cat the time he cleaned and bandaged a nasty cut the animal had
          garnered in a fight.

          It was to the Explorer that Cuervo carried the mouse.  He jumped easily onto
          the hood and balanced carefully along the window edge of the front
          passenger's door.  The feline pulled himself through the quarter opened
          window and deposited the stuffed gift squarely on the driver's seat before
          hopping back out.

          The grayish-black Suburban was next.  It always smelled of incense and
          Cuervo usually sneezed once or twice when he visited, but like the Jeep,
          there was usually good food to be found in the small wooden bowl that rested
          on the floor in the very back of the large vehicle.  Well, good except for
          the time with the Tofu.

          Cuervo's owner, John, ate the stuff and the small cat learned early on to
          stay away from the odd, firm mass.

          But this morning it was pizza crust.  Thick and doughy.  The best kind.  The
          large human with the deep voice would get an extra rub on the shin for this.

          With his stomach full, the young cat realized there was grooming to be done
          and sleep to be pursued.  He stole across the dusty cement floor and leapt
          onto the hood of a jet black '94 Jaguar XJS coupe.  The tabby left little
          gray pawprints as he found the exact warmest spot on the front of the
          sportscar.

          This one always arrived last; consequently, the heat from the high
          performance engine still permeated through the metal of the hood and made
          for a delicious spot to sleep.  Plus, Cuervo did find a secret delight in
          seeing how many tiny pawmarks he could get across the car.

          It had become a challenge between him and the owner.  Every morning it would
          show up gleaming and the small cat felt it necessary to dust the lustrous
          canvas with his own unique signature.

          He'd never been able to get into the car.  But through the deeply tinted
          windows he'd seen the rich leather interior and now, after smelling the long
          black leather coat that resided as of late in one of the trucks, the young
          cat realized he'd have to find a way to stretch out on that back seat.

          But till then he contented himself with curling up on the polished hood and
          dream of what that interior would feel like under his claws.

          fin
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