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A Drawer of Lingerie

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“Carmilla! We’ve talked about you leaving your lingerie lying around after one of your escapades.” Danny barged into Carmilla’s bedroom and waved around black silk fabric on the end of her hockey stick like a flag, “especially if it’s been torn to pieces. I don’t need any any more mental images then I’ve already got.”

Carmilla barely looked up from her novel, “It’s not my fault you don’t knock Xena.”

“Learn to lock the doors!” Danny shot back. She extended the hockey stick until the tip of the blade was hovering just in front of Carmilla’s nose, letting the fabric drape over the pages of the book. Carmilla swatted her away but Danny just shoved the garment closer, “Now take this. I think your cat was trying to eat it.”

Carmilla’s head shot up and she closed the book without bothering to mark her place, “Mircalla was trying to eat this? Are you sure? Is she sick? Did you see any vomit?” Carmilla paused, going cross-eyed as she finally took in the black fabric shoved in her face, “This isn’t even mine.”

Danny frowned, “Well I found it in our apartment with your cat sleeping with it like it was a pillow.”

“Well now,” Carmilla let her voice drawl and put on her best smirk, “if this isn’t my lingerie and it was found in our apartment then I have to ask. What - correction - who have you been doing that required the purchase of such a high quality sexy item instead of your usual athletic wear?”

Mircalla squeezed past Danny and into the room, hopping up onto Carmilla’s bed as Danny turned a vibrant shade of red, “This isn’t mine,” she said, “look at it. It’s tiny. I’d barely get a leg in there. That’s why it’s got to be yours.”

Carmilla stroked the black cat that had twined itself between her knees, its eyes intense on the slightly bouncing hockey stick. “Could be one of your paramours left it behind, Xena.” Carmilla said, “or are you collecting souvenirs now?”

“As you apparently haven’t noticed, I’m a little light on the paramours at the-” Danny started.

Carmilla interrupted, “well that explains the stick up your butt.”

Danny rolled her eyes, “If it’s not yours then it’s got to be one of your study buddies or whatever you’re calling them these days. So,” she thrust the hockey stick back towards Carmilla, “you get to deal with it.”

Before either girl could move, Mircalla unfolded herself from Carmilla’s legs and leapt at the hockey stick. The unexpected weight jerked the stick from Danny’s hand and onto the bed where the cat quickly untangled the fabric from the blade. Purring, Mircalla waltzed back to Carmilla’s lap with the torn lingerie in her mouth.

Danny snatched the empty stick back up, “If that’s not yours then I think your cat has a crush on one of your recent flings. You may want to give her a call and let her know that the reason you haven’t called her back is because you know that you just can’t compete with Mircalla.”

“No-one can compete with Mircalla,” Carmilla said absently as she tried to wrestle the garment from her cat’s mouth.

“Still,” Danny said as she turned to go, “worth considering. Maybe your cat has better taste than you do.”


Carmilla didn’t actually slam the door to the apartment, she just didn’t stop it from slamming behind her, “Mircalla,” she said as she kicked off her shoes and entered the kitchen, “definitely does not have better taste than I do.”

Danny fought to turn the smirk into sympathy, “I can’t believe that you actually decided to try and find lingerie girl because your cat likes her underwear.” She waved a spatula about as chicken sizzled in the frying pan, “You know I was kidding right?”

Snagging a chunk of Danny’s pasta, Carmilla shrugged and shoved the stolen food in her mouth.

“Soooo,” Danny said, “how many more of your lady loves are left on the list?”

Carmilla stooped down to refill Mircalla’s bowl, “I’ve had three doors slammed in my face, two booty calls, one hysterical sobbing girl about how I was the light of her life - after 1 night I might add-, and two boyfriends try and punch me in the face. You really think I’m going to keep going?”

“Definitely. You’re stubborn.” Danny said, “Plus, you got to two booty calls out of it. So how many more?”

There was nothing more than the light sizzle of frying chicken and the sound of Carmilla picking the triangle shaped pieces of cat food out of Mircalla’s bowl because she couldn’t find anywhere that would just sell her the square pieces.

“Come on Karnstein,” Danny said, “We’ll tag team the next one. Maybe you won’t get slapped.”

Carmilla stared down at the cat bowl, “That’s all of them.”

“That’s it?” Danny said.

Carmilla stood and rolled her eyes, “Contrary to popular belief Xena, I do have some boundaries. There’s not an endless hoard just waiting at my beck and call.”

“Of course, they’re waiting,” Danny turned back to the pot and mumbled, “you don’t call them back.”

A cascade of triangle cat food pieces hit her in the back of the head.

Danny kept her eyes on the stove, “Don’t make me pelt you with oregano.”

“Please, like you know how to cook with any spice besides garlic,” Carmilla said, sticking her head in the freezer.

“That’s why I know we have extra oregano,” Danny said. She took a step back to grab the spice from the opposite counter and nearly slipped in her effort to not trample Mircalla. Twisting, Danny caught sight of the cat and forcibly stifled a guffaw.

“Karnstein?” Danny said.

“Congratulations. You know my last name.” Carmilla’s head was still in the freezer as she rooted through stacks of frozen ready to eat meals.

Danny kept her eyes on the cat, “I think I know who your mystery lingerie girl is.”

Carmilla scoffed, “Unless freakishly giant heights comes packaged with psychic abilities, I find that fairly hard to believe.”

“How about whichever girl was here in the last week?” Danny said, “At a guess I’m saying that she wore a red bra, very lacy, if that triggers any memories?”

“Xena, I’ve been so busy with this report that I haven’t even seen a girl this week, never mind an oddly specific red lacy bra.” Carmilla retreated from the freezer with a frozen dinner, “I think your giant ginger powers are on the fritz.”

Danny leaned back against the stove, gave her best grin, and pointed to the cat bowl.

Mircalla was making her way through her freshly filled bowl, carefully avoiding the few remaining triangle pieces, and sprawled comfortably across a bright red, lacy bra.

The sound Carmilla made resembled a choked gurgle as she threw the dinner on the counter and scooped up Mircalla. The cat protested, wiggling widely in her grasp. Carmilla removed the loop of the bra from around the cat’s torso and let her go.

“Where are you getting these?” Carmilla muttered, staring at the black cat.

Danny was still grinning, “You’re sure you haven’t had any girls here?”

“Only you,” Carmilla fired back. “And I can’t say that you really count as me having a girl here. You’re sure you haven’t had any girls here?”

“I’m as busy as you are,” Danny reminded her, “the closest thing I’ve had to a date is this Zeta ‘bro’ who keeps challenging me to sports competitions because I kicked his butt at basketball.”

“Helpful. I’m sure this bro is the one smuggling lingerie into our apartment for my cat.” Carmilla ran her finger over the fabric, easily finding two small puncture holes that she would bet had come from Mircalla’s teeth.

Danny shrugged, “Must be left over from months ago.” She narrowed her eyes, “who knows what else is lurking in the corner of that mess you call a bedroom.”

Carmilla rolled her eyes, traipsed over to her bedroom, and stuffed the bra into one of the top drawers of her wardrobe.

“You’re keeping it?” Danny followed, eyes raised.

“Apparently its been in my bedroom for months,” Carmilla snarked, “what’s a few more days?”


Four days later Carmilla found Mircalla wrapped up in a thong.

Two days after that it was polka-dot underwear.

Carmilla finally cleaned her room, double checking every corner for stray lingerie. Nothing. Danny even gave the rest of the house an extra cleaning, still finishing with plenty of time to watch Carmilla curse herself out when she accidentally stuck her hand in a pile of moldy something.

The next week, Danny almost split a gut when they came home from school and saw Mircalla sleeping comfortably inside of a light pink silk babydoll. The cat’s nose was just peeking out of the neck.

Carmilla started to stalk her cat. She followed Mircalla around the house, picking up her laptop and moving throughout each room of the house as Mircalla pattered between the kitchen and Carmilla’s bedroom. She even went so far as to spend 4 hours sitting on Danny’s bed when Mircalla decided that she just had to sit on Danny’s dresser and stare at the wall for hours.

When she finally figured out what was happening it had nothing to do with her new stalking habits.

“Karnstein.” Carmilla forced her eyes open, blearily looking up at Danny.

Carmilla immediately grabbed a pillow and shoved it over her face, “your flaming mug is not the face I will wake up to.”

“Suit yourself,” Danny made to leave the room, “but I just cracked the case of your cat’s lingerie wide open and you’re going to miss the evidence.”

“What?” Carmilla was not a morning person but she forced herself to her feet, ignoring her lack of pants. She followed Danny into the living room to see her cat forcibly pulling the tiny kitchen window open.

“She’s been working on that window for a couple of minutes,” Danny said.

When the window was cracked open, Mircalla disappeared momentarily and then slunk through the window with a white bra between her teeth. Dropping the bra on top of the fridge, the cat turned, reclosed the window, and stalked back over to the bra. She curled up inside one of the cups and letting out a rumbling purr.

Carmilla moaned and grabbed a chair, “I cleaned my room for nothing.” Placing the chair in front of the fridge, the girl grabbed the cat and the bra, hopped down, and dropped the bundle on the table.

“Looks like Mircalla is getting more action than either of us,” Danny said and rubbed the cat’s head.

Carmilla dropped into the chair, “My cat is a lingerie thief.”

“Expensive lingerie,” Danny pointed out, “Mircalla’s picky like someone else I could mention. She doesn’t go for the simple cheap cotton clothed girls.”

“Girl.” Carmilla corrected.

Danny started fiddling with the nearby fruit bowl, “now who’s psychic?”

Carmilla sighed, shoving Mircalla’s tail out of the way to check the tag on the bra, “They’re all the same size genius.”

“So your cat’s got a crush.” Danny tossed her an apple, “You know that window is busted and won’t lock right?”


They’d acquired another bra. Danny took one look at it and had cackled that it was clearly a ‘special occasion bra’. Carmilla had only huffed and thrown it in a drawer with the others. A drawer which was now dedicated to nothing but a strangers undergarments.

She had no idea how she’d ever explain that to anyone.

She burned food too often to glue the window shut so Carmilla tried rigging the window so it wouldn’t open without human intervention. Three days later, Mircalla was giving her the stinkeye as Carmilla wrestled the top half of a bikini away from the cat.

Carmilla flopped onto the couch, bathing suit in hand, “At least Mir is diversifying.”

“You ever wonder what she looks like?” Danny asked suddenly, “our lingerie girl?”

Carmilla thought the ‘our’ was a bit much but shrugged, “obviously you do Xena or you wouldn’t have asked.” Really though. It was Carmilla’s cat and Carmilla’s drawer full of the girl’s belongings. Danny just happened to live with them.


Danny shrugged, “Sure. Why not? I’m too busy to meet anyone and who doesn’t like a mystery? I figure she’s got to be a rich girl. Thin based on band size. Average height. Gorgeous blonde maybe? Great at sports but not like sports sports. What do rich girls play? Maybe badminton or something. Just a little slutty.”

Carmilla frowned, “slutty?”

“You’ve seen her underwear Karnstein. Girl with those in her drawer has to be the kind to show just a little too much skin.” Danny was smiling at her own mental image, “probably flirty. Perfect summer fling material.”

Sitting up and propping a couch cushion behind her back, Carmilla considered the bathing suit in her hand. Definitely a bikini. Halter top. Fairly thick ties. A bit of structure to the cup. Aqua blue with a simple wave pattern. She ran a finger absently along the fabric, “Wrong again Lawrence”

Danny snorted, catching the tip of Mircalla’s tail between her fingers as the cat jumped onto the couch, “Yes. Sorry. Please tell me how my completely made up dream of a girl we’ve never met is obviously wrong?”

“Easy,” Carmilla smirked and twirled the bikini on her finger, “Would you classify me as ‘just a little slutty?’

Danny laughed, “You wrote the book on ‘just a little slutty’.

“Exactly,” Carmilla’s smirk intensified, “And I don’t wear this. I wear string bikinis”


Mircalla returned to form Carmilla found her cat curled up in her bed with another pair of underwear draped over her head.

“Explain something to me,” Carmilla said as she wrestled the underwear off Mircalla’s head, “what is it with this girl in particular?”

Mircalla just swiped at her with a paw, opening a cut on Carmilla’s hand.

Carmilla snatched the underwear and hopped back, “Seriously. I can buy you discount underwear of your very own. No need to starve this girl out of house and home to continually buy bras.”

Mircalla bristled and hopped off the bed. The cat stuck her nose in the air and pranced past Carmilla and out the door.

“Fine,” Carmilla called after her, “but it’s your fault if this girl is walking around naked!”


When Carmilla flung her eyes open in a panic the room was still dark around her. Pitch dark. She gasped for breath, finding her breathing restricted by something laying across her face. She blindly shoved it back, fighting off the remnants of the nightmare.

When her vision finally returned, she was immediately treated to a pair of green eyes slitted open to stare angrily at her. Mircalla lay heavy on her chest, the cat’s slow breathing calming her. Carmilla took a few matching breaths, before looking over at her hand to the thing that had covered her face.

She squinted in the darkness and a monstrosity of yellow glared back at her. Carmilla sat up slightly and glared down at the cat on her chest.

“This,” she said sternly, “is not mine. Please don’t tell me you stole it.”

Mircalla blinked lazily and nuzzled Carmilla’s chin with the top of her head.

Carmilla sighed and laid back down, dropping the yellow fabric on the ground as Mircalla let out a small mew, “It’s a good thing you’re cute, you stupid cat.”

As she was drifting back to sleep, she felt Mircalla’s weight slowly leave her chest.

What seemed moments later, she was re-awoken by a cat’s paw kneading into her cheek with a repetitive tap.

Carmilla scrunched her eyes tighter, “No!” She grumbled.

Mircalla kept right on going with an incessant tap tap on her face, occasionally going so far as to swat at Carmilla’s nose.

“Don’t think I won’t give you to Will, “ Carmilla threatened, opening her eyes. They widened immediately as she took in the room.

“What the hell, Mir!” Carmilla shouted, sitting up and flicking on the light. Her floor was covered in strips of fabric. Getting to her feet, Carmilla discovered that the bottom shelf of her wardrobe was open and every sheet, pillowcase, and blanket had been shredded.

She spun around, turning back to her cat, who was staring at her. A strip of white fabric hanging from her mouth. She stomped over to the bed and grabbed her cat by the scruff of its neck. Moving quickly as Mircalla yowled, Carmilla locked her in the bathroom.

Ignoring the cat’s loud protests, Carmilla walked back to her room and groaned, finally noticing that Mircalla had even managed to shred the pillowcase that she was sleeping on. Grabbing a garbage bag, Carmilla began scooping up the pieces of fabric. “Stupid cat,” she muttered, “stupid claws. Should just get the things taken out.” See wouldn’t. But it was nice to fantasize.

As she scooped up the next pile, a flash of yellow caught her eye. She leaned forward and picked up the yellow monstrosity that Mircalla had brought her. She moaned and rubbed her head when she realized what it was.

“A pillowcase,” she muttered, “of course.”

The only non-shredded pillowcase in the whole room.

Carmilla looked at the floor, still covered in fabric and looked at her bed. There was only one that she was really interested in. Tentatively she lifted the yellow fabric to her nose and sniffed. There was definitely a scent but it wasn’t unclean. It smelled vaguely of chocolate and cinnamon.

Ignoring her better judgement, Carmilla stripped off her shredded pillow case, popped on the strange yellow one, and tumbled back to sleep.

She slept so soundly that she failed to notice an exasperated Danny burst into her room and throw a still yowling Mircalla at her head. The cat curled up next to her head, purring.


Carmilla was walking down the street a few blocks from her apartment, arms full of new bedsheets, when the corner of her eye caught something bright blue moving up on one of the apartment buildings. She looked up absently, then froze, eyes narrowing to slits.

She could just make out a black cat crawling out of a third story window with something blue in its teeth.

Carmilla would have bet her oldest edition of Kant that it was Mircalla. Dumping the bedsheets discretely in a nearby bush and checking if anyone was watching, she moved towards the building and pulled down the fire escape. Clambering up the side of the building, she kept her eyes focused on her cat. An old lady on the second floor gave her an odd look as she passed the window but Carmilla ignored her and kept going.

She cornered Mircalla on the stairs between the second and third floors. Lunging forward, she grabbed at the cat missing entirely but managing to snag the blue fabric between her fingers. After an embarrassing long tug of war, she managed to retain ownership of the fabric.

“Alright Mir,” She said, “this ends now. Which apartment are you stealing these from?”

Her cat, ever helpful, jumped off the fire escape and took off across the window sills.

“Great,” Carmilla looked down at her prize. Her eyebrows shot into her hairline. Tight blue boyshorts with windows drawn on them and the words ‘police box’ in big letters along the elastic. She vaguely recognized it from one of Will’s nerdy tv shows that he swore he didn’t actually like.

Looking up, she tried to remember which window Mircalla had come through. Climbing slowly up the fire escape, she made her best guess.

Peering inside, she spotted someone moving the room. Carmilla put on her best lazy smirk of confidence and leaned closer, rapping on the window. The figure turned and Carmilla fought to keep her smirk from growing into a smile.

The girl was staring at her with wide eyes, a cupcake half stuffed in her mouth. Small stature, brown hair thrown into a lazy bun, and a conservative button down shirt that in no way matched the amount of sexy stranger underwear Carmilla had tucked into her drawer. Then the girl’s eye narrowed and she stomped up to the window, swallowing the snack.

Before the girl could open the glass, Carmilla held up the underwear and gave it a casual wave.

The girls’ mouth closed instantly, a light pink flooding to her cheeks as her eyes bounced between the underwear and Carmilla. Then, she reached for the window pane.

Carmilla’s brain raced, giving her a few sexy options to throw out. ‘Well cutie, it seems my cat was right to have a crush on you.’ or ‘So, now that I’ve seen the underwear, do I get to see it on the model?’ or even ‘ Fair’s fair, cutie. I’ve seen yours, want to see mine?” The usual lines.

Her mouth never got the message. As soon as window opened, Carmilla blurted,

“I’ve got a drawer full of your underwear.”