A Feline Irritation (Just Shoot Me, Dennis Finch, M)

[gingerbreads]

A/N: I really like cats, and my roommate’s cat I simply love and is the sweetest cat I know- Finch’s views do not reflect my own LOL. I’m only on season 2 of this show so if Finch is ever with cats, I have no idea yet and do not care! >:) This will be multiple parts like the last one, just can't edit titles so I figured I wouldn't add it in the title! Thanks for reading!!

******

“Wait, what kind of photo shoot is happening today?” Finch shifted his weight from foot to foot in his boss’ doorway, hoping he’d heard wrong. Please let him have heard wrong.

“All the models will have a cat that matches their look,” Jack said matter of factly, scribbling something down in a folder.

“Great, great. This issue is gonna fly off the stands. Sounds amazing. Well, I’m taking the day off- see ya later, boss.” Finch turned on his heel emphatically.

“No, you’re not, Dennis,” Jack called after him.

“No, I’m not,” Finch muttered under his breath, scowling. He fell into his chair at his desk and picked up some paperwork.

“Did you hear what kind of photo shoot-” Maya started to ask brightly as she walked over, her planner in her hands, but Finch cut her off irritably.

“Yes, I heard.” 

Maya raised her eyebrows. “What, you don’t like cats?”

“He’s allergic to them,” Elliot supplied while strolling by, fiddling with the settings on his camera.

Finch sighed. He couldn’t even remember how Elliot happened to know that. He’d always had a particular… dislike for cats, no doubt bolstered by his allergy to them. There was also the fact he had a strong memory of holding one as a kid when it scratched his face. 

“Look, I have to get out of here,” Finch said desperately, getting up from his chair. “Before-”

“Aww, they’re here!” Maya exclaimed, smiling and eyes fixed toward the elevator.

Great.

In walked several handlers holding cat carriers with both female and male models following close behind. There were at least ten handlers- ten of them. So many fucking cats.

Finch could feel his nose start to prickle and could swear his throat was closing up already.

“Do you feel itchy? I feel itchy.” Fitch scratched at his arms compulsively, pushing up his cotton sleeves.

“Oh, relax, they’ll be in the studios all day, right?” Maya tapped her pen against her planner thoughtfully. “You’ll be fine.”

Well. Turns out they weren’t in the studios all day. Oh, no. The handlers just had to show off their prized cat-show-winning felines to everyone in the fucking office. Of course, people kept asking to see them, and the models kept toting them around everywhere. Everyone just ooh-ing and aww-ing over the soulless, agony-inducing little creatures. Finch had managed to keep himself sequestered at his desk for about an hour before he needed another caffeine hit.

He wondered if he should even make the trek to the kitchen or if he should just bribe someone to do it for him.

Nah, this was fine. Finch could do this. He wasn’t even sure how bad his allergies were anymore. It had been years since he actually was in the same room with a cat. He had stifled a few sneezes this morning, but for the most part, he’d felt… surprisingly okay. Maybe his allergies were better?

Scratch that. Five feet away from his desk and Finch wanted to abort mission and abort the entire building. His desk must have been a relatively dander-free zone because the instant he walked a few steps he felt his nose burn and his eyes water.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he muttered, rubbing at his eyes as he made a beeline for the break area. Unfortunately, unable to see clearly through his allergic tears, he ran headfirst into Nina and almost fell over.

“Hey!” Nina stumbled backwards, glaring at him. “Can’t you watch where you’re going?”

“I’m having a bit of crisis here, Nina,” Finch snapped. He rubbed at his eyes again and took in a wavering breath, trying not to sneeze.

“Well, join the club. Little Miss Persian Cat Model and the designer over there said we ordered the wrong size of jacket at the wrong length, so they’ll have to come back next week to re-do that part of the shoot and eeeveryone blames the head of the fashion department.”

Finch felt his heart drop into his stomach. “They’re... going to come back?” 

“Well, just a few of them. The rest will keep coming back for the next couple days this week. We’re not even halfway through the shoots today. Everyone is being so slow.” Nina peered at him. “You look weird. Well, weirder than normal. You’re all twitchy. And your eyes are red- oh my god, are you high?”

Finch rolled his eyes, sniffled, the itch in his nose growing unbearable. “Can you please just move out of my way?”

“Wait, I could use some of your… you know,” Nina grinned. “Come on, I’m really having a day today.”

“That makes two of us,” Finch growled, moving past her toward the break area. 

Nina tsk’d behind him. “Killjoy.”

Once he got to the kitchen, he stopped suddenly and let his mouth hang slack. He gripped the counter, ducked his face into his elbow, and tried to muffle the sounds.

“Hah… Hah-ishiew! Ishiew! Ichoo!” Finch gasped for air after the flurry of sneezes, grabbing blindly for a paper towel since his nose was now streaming. Fuck.

“Aw, bless you!”

Finch felt his face heat up a bit and he turned; a beautiful dark skinned model with black hair cropped short was filling her water bottle in the sink. 

Hmm. Maybe he could use this to his advantage, somehow, and get laid…? Play the sympathy card.

“Thanks, I’m, uh… deathly allergic to cats, but my boss is making me stay and work, even when my life hangs in the balance.”

The model capped her water bottle. “You can be deathly allergic to cats?”

Well, he didn’t know. Probably. Maybe. “Yeah, I-” Finch paused and twisted his body away from her, stifling a sneeze into his crumpled paper towel. “You want me to take you out later, I c-can…” Finch shuddered and turned away again, stifling another sneeze, and tried to keep his hand over his running nose. “Tell you about it.”

The model looked somewhere between grossed out and pitying. “Um, no thanks. But you should probably take an allergy pill or something.” 

Finch sniffled as he watched her go, swiped at his nose. He wished. If he had been warned then maybe he would have brought some. 

Grabbing a mug out of the cabinet, he hastily filled it with coffee, and walked as quickly as he could back to his desk without letting it spill over.

[Pyrus_Fangmon]

The torture continues!!! Off to a very lovely start here

[gingerbreads]

38 minutes ago, Pyrus_Fangmon said:

The torture continues!!! Off to a very lovely start here

Hahaha the torture 😂 why is it so fun to torture him?! Thank you!!

[aggedy_ann]

this is fabulous.   Poor poor Finchy.  Cats all week, huh....

Edited June 19, 2020 by aggedy_ann

[gingerbreads]

4 minutes ago, aggedy_ann said:

this is fabulous.   Poor poor Finchy.  Cats all week, huh....

😈😈 all week!!

[gingerbreads]

A/N: Out of curiosity I looked up to see if cats are mentioned in the show, turns out Finch does have one mentioned eventually. Changing canon to suit my purposes LOL. Idk if Maya ever had a cat or any pet, so… yeah. I also doubt anyone cares that much about canon accuracy here.

******

At about two o’clock in the afternoon, Finch finished amending Jack’s schedule for the following weeks. His throat was feeling sore and his head was starting to hurt from stifling sneezes all day. 

He was about to head out to the corner store in search of allergy medication. Of course, before he did, one of the handlers walked by to sign out and placed her cat carrier right on his desk. Finch wanted to cry. He really did. He could see the cat staring at him, its evil eyes wide and yellow and bright in the darkness of the carrier. 

“Your little angel goes on the floor.” Finch said through gritted teeth. His nose was prickling again, and he scratched at his neck.

The woman looked at him over her glasses disapprovingly and huffed, but took the cat carrier and put it on the floor. 

Once she signed out and left, Finch hurriedly grabbed a couple Kleenex from the box on his desk and stifled a fit of sneezes into them, "Heh… hkt. Hkt-ah… Hxt. Hxt. HEHkxt…!"

He blew his nose furtively and coughed, wheezing a bit. 

Shrugging on his leather jacket, Finch glanced at his watch. He supposed he could make the round trip in under a half hour. He'd love to meander and take his time, but Jack would probably notice.

It was spring and the air was warm when he stepped outside. The pollen count was likely high in New York City today- thank god Finch didn't have hayfever on top of his cat allergy. The only other allergy he knew he had was dust, which was why he pointedly avoided getting things from the storage rooms.

At the corner store, Finch scanned the shelves in the cold and allergy section. And… shit. All they had left for allergies were the night time medications. Seriously?

"Hey, buddy, this is all you have left?" Finch called irritably over to the shop-keep, gesturing at the empty hooks.

The shop-keep shrugged, looking disinterested. "Allergy season."

He grabbed one of them anyway, figuring he'd take it tonight if the effects of all the cats were still wearing on him. 

When he got back to the office and out of the elevator, he felt his stomach lurch.

Maya and a freckled, redheaded model were standing near his desk holding one of the beasts. 

"This one is so precious," Maya cooed at the ginger tabby who was blinking lazily up at her, its body relaxed. "He just lays in your arms like a lump. And I love how he matches your hair!"

"I know!" The model smiled, petting the cat on its head while it closed its eyes.

Meanwhile, Finch was currently edging his way to his desk with his back against the wall.

"Finch, look at this cat," Maya shifted the cat a bit in her arms. "I know you don't like them, but isn't he sweet?"

The redheaded model gasped and stared at him. "You don't like cats?"

"He's allergic," Maya lamented sadly, as if this was perhaps the greatest tragedy she had heard in a while. Then, realizing how close she was to his desk, backed away. "Oh, shit. Sorry, Finch!"

"It's fine," Finch said, his voice tight, back still pressed against the wall. "I've always wanted the chance to have as many allergic fits at work as possible. I like to live life on the edge."

Maya took the hint and shuffled away with the cat, the model close behind.

Finch shrugged off his jacket and sighed, the sigh turning into an unexpected sneeze that he barely had time to catch on his forearm, "Ahh-HEH-choo!" He sniffled and wiped his sleeve against his shirt, not really caring how unsanitary it was.

"Bless you," remarked Jenna (Janice? He couldn’t remember) from the accounting department as she walked by.

Finch grunted in response and pawed at his nose. Hah. Pawed. All of the sneezing he’d done today felt totally unproductive as his nose was still tingling incessantly. Frustrated, he made his way into the men’s bathroom, surreptitiously checked under the stalls to make sure no one was already in there, and grabbed a few paper towels. 

He took in a shuddering breath and snapped forward. “Hehk-chiew! HIH-shooo! Hah-ishoo! Ishoo! Uh…” Finch paused, gasping, his eyes streaming with allergic tears. “J-Jesus- hih- HEH-shiew! Ha-ISHoo!” Finally, some relief- at least his sinuses felt a little better now. He held the paper towels against his nose for a few seconds, wiping it, and glanced in the mirror.

Holy shit. He looked horrible. His eyes were bloodshot, face a bit puffy, nose red and scrubbed raw (the use of paper towels today was probably not helping). He ran a hand through his blonde hair to try to make that a little more presentable, at least, and rolled up the cuffs of his sleeves. He winced when he saw the scratch marks on his arms and tugged the sleeves back down.

Elliot took that moment to barge into the bathroom, and stopped in his tracks when he saw Finch.

“Woah, you look-”

“Like someone with hayfever who stuck their face in a vat of pollen while simultaneously smoking a bowl? Yes, I’m aware.” He coughed.

“Damn, I knew you were allergic, but…” Elliot looked somewhat fascinated at seeing Finch in such a disheveled state.

“Oh yeah, how did you even know that anyway?”

“You mentioned it a while ago,” Elliot shrugged. “I think we were talking about the fact I wasn’t allergic to anything.” He looked smug at this. “Yep, would hate to be you right now…”

Finch just glowered at him, sniffling.

“Sorry,” Elliot said, still grinning. He didn’t sound sorry at all, the bastard.

Finch pointedly stayed as far away from him as possible as he edged his way out of the bathroom, and yelped when Elliot pretended to lunge toward him, his black sweater no doubt covered in all the little evil cat particles.

He could still hear Elliot laughing as he walked back to his desk. Asshole.

******

Somehow, Finch managed to make it through the rest of the day successfully avoiding anyone with a cat. He was hoping the novelty of having cats in the office would wear off and everyone would quit hauling them around everywhere. He was still dealing with the effects of being in an enclosed space with so many allergens even when he got home, but he felt better after taking a shower.

At their staff meeting the next morning, Finch surreptitiously popped a couple of allergy pills he had grabbed on his way home last night, not really sure how well they would work. 

“Now what are you taking?” Nina asked, arms crossed.

“Trust me,” Finch said, swigging some water. “This isn’t a fun kind of high.” 

“Okay, people, we’ve got a lot of work this week,” Jack began. “Nina, did you order that new jacket?”

“Yeah, it should be here by Friday.”

“Great, I’ve got some different cats coming in today-”

“Different ones?” Finch drummed his fingers on the table nervously.

“Yeah, one of the, uh… ‘cat models’ wasn’t working out yesterday, so they’re bringing in a new one. Or maybe more than one. Then the rest of the shoots should take us up today and tomorrow before we’ve got that Tommy Hillfilger spread. Persian cat is still next week.”

Finch groaned.

“Lighten up,” Jack said. “Cats aren’t so bad. Maya, you had that cat that you loved growing up, what was its name, Poppy…? Petunia?”

“That was a rat, Dad.”

“Well, whatever. Close enough.”

With more details on this month’s issue of Blush hashed out, their meeting adjourned. The handlers and models filed in not long after, and Finch could only hope the off brand non-drowsy allergy medication he had picked up would give him some kind of relief.  

He was working on sorting through and taking down all the voicemails when a model walked by, her hair dyed silver (or perhaps she had gone gray young and kept it for fashion purposes?) holding a long-haired gray tabby in her arms. Finch’s nose twitched at the sight and he was posed in a sort of fight or flight mode. To flee… to not flee… Fleeing sounded good. He got up from his chair to head toward the break area, when the tall woman changed her direction and Finch accidentally blocked her path.

“Oh, can you hold him for a second?” The woman shoved the cat in his face and Finch gave a sort of strangled squawk; without even thinking he took the animal in his arms automatically. “I don’t know where his handler went. She was just here a second ago. Finding me new shoes with the fashion assistant. They’re killing me.” 

She took off her shoes while Finch held the fluffy cat in his arms, twisting his face as far away from it as possible. He knew if he dropped it, it might run off somewhere, and he didn’t want to be on the hook for that. If he had been having a shitty time yesterday, he could only imagine how long the effect of actually holding one of these monsters was going to last. His sinuses were prickling, eyes watering.

“Can you- hih- c-can you take it?” Finch asked frantically, his voice wavering.

“All right, all right.” The model was standing in her tights with her heels in one hand and scooped the cat in her other arm, the animal purring contentedly.

Almost immediately, Finch gasped and ducked into the crook of his arm with a fit of sneezes, not even attempting to stifle, his body’s need to expel the allergen too strong. “HAH-ishiew! Ishoo! Ishoo! Huh-ISHoo! Ah-IHCHUH! Ah… Hih-shiewww!”

“Oh wow, bless y-”

“Hih…i-Ih-shiew! IH’choo!” Finch whimpered, took in a few shaky breaths, unsure if the fit was over or not. Quickly he grabbed a couple of kleenex from his desk and dabbed at his nose and eyes. 

His face was flaming at this humiliating display, and he glanced over at the model who was staring at him, stunned. The cat was looking at him with wide eyes, alert, its ears perked up. Other people in the office were now also looking over at him, and he definitely wanted to just lie down and die from embarrassment. 

“You’re allergic to cats, huh?” To her credit, the model backed a few feet away from his desk.

This woman deserved an award for her astute observation skills. Really remarkable. Finch’s only response was a glare and a stifled sneeze into his wrist. “H-hkxt-ah…”

The model gave him a grimace as if to say sorry I just made you hold a cat and she scurried back toward the studio rooms.

******
A/N: I feel like there could be an excuse to drag him into one of the studios where they’re doing the shoots. I’m not sure what that excuse is yet LOL.
 

[aggedy_ann]

My bb.   Poor guy

[gingerbreads]

46 minutes ago, aggedy_ann said:

My bb.   Poor guy

he's too adorable 🥺 oh. speaking of dave... I think I'm going to draw him based on a very good fetish-related post I saw but I dunno if I will post it here because not having the option to delete it later makes me nervous LOL.

Edited June 20, 2020 by SneezyHolmes
Removed Tumblr username

[SneezyHolmes]

Polite staff reminder that sharing contact details on the open boards is not allowed. Thank you!

[gingerbreads]

A/N: Took some ideas from Devil Wears Prada lol

******

Finch popped another antihistamine pill into his mouth, downing it with water. After the whole cat holding fiasco he’d washed his face in the bathroom to see if that would help any. His sinuses were still tingling but it didn’t feel nearly as intense as it just had. 

He sniffled and glanced at his watch. A couple more hours and he’d be scot-free. He rubbed at his throat, wincing- it was starting to get sore.

“Dennis, what were the main voicemails?” Jack walked briskly by Finch’s desk and Finch took this as cue to follow him.

“Uh- Kors wanted to know about that Model of the Year party. Then we need confirmation on catering type for the spring magazine function next month. DiMarco needs to know what golf course for the sponsor golfing next week, and-” Finch stopped. They were in front of Studio A, in which he was absolutely certain a cat shoot was going on.

Jack turned, “And?” He opened the door to the studio and took a folder an assistant handed him while walking by, flipping through the photo samples in it from the day’s previous shoot. 

“Um- I really can’t go in-” Finch stuttered.

“Dennis, I don’t have all day here.” Jack moved into the studio and Finch followed him reluctantly and continued to tell him the rest of the pertinent voicemails, as well as next week’s agenda.

“We have some good ones with the calico?” Jack asked the photo editing assistant. They talked for a bit. Meanwhile, Finch nervously hung as close to the door as he could, watching Elliot kneel down with his Nikon F, taking photos of a man and woman dressed in deep browns, tans, and whites, each of them holding a fluffy brown tabby cat.

Finch felt his eyes begin to water and scratched at his arms absentmindedly. He rubbed at his nose, then shuddered, bent toward the wall, and stifled a silent sneeze into his shoulder. The assistant next to him noticed the dip of his head and whispered, “Bless you.”

Finch grimaced at her in response, wiping a couple of allergic tears away from his eyes. He really, really needed to fucking sneeze but couldn’t just… let go in a room full of people with a photo shoot going on.

The assistant crossed her arms and nodded at him. “Are you allergic to cats?”

He looked at her, eyebrows raised. “Uh… Yeah.”

She grinned, peering at him over old-fashioned 70’s style glasses. “Well, my husband is too, but it’s also kind of easy to tell… You’re looking a little worse for wear. We still have a cat though.”

Finch scoffed. “How does he live?”

“He takes medication- he just really loves our cat. He might not be as bad off as you are, though.”

“Yeah, this is pretty m-much- hih-” Finch’s voice wavered and he stifled another sneeze into his shoulder. “Hkxt-uh… Torture.” He sniffed and rubbed at his nose.

“Bless you.”

“Thanks,” Finch muttered, rubbing at his neck. 

Jack finally turned around and Finch gratefully followed him, answering questions about the schedule for next issue. Down the hallway, Finch stopped, feeling the prickle in his nose start intensify. Hanging around in that studio had probably not helped this whole extremely allergic to cats situation. He scrubbed at his nose with his knuckles and continued walking before Jack noticed. “The writer working on the piece on silk and satin needs to know if-” Finch stopped again; his eyes were tearing up and it was hard to see where he was going.

Jack turned around. “Yes? Dennis?” He peered at him. “What’s going on with you?”

“N-nothing- hih-” Finch started, inhaled sharply, and ducked into his elbow, stifling a sneeze.

“Gesundheit,” Jack said, and jabbed a pen at him. “Don’t get sick right now, we’ve got a shit ton to do.”

Finch resisted rolling his eyes- any time he ever did come in sick at work, Jack had never noticed anyway. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” He really needed to get to the bathroom or somewhere reclusive before he advanced into a sneezing fit again. Wasn’t looking forward to a repeat of that afternoon in front of the whole staff. 

Finch almost made it out to the bathroom, his vision blurred with tears, before running headfirst into Nina again.

“Seriously? How many times this week are you going to nearly knock me over?” Nina griped.

“Nina, I r-really can’t d- hih- deal with you-” He stopped and grabbed the edge of his desk, eyelids fluttering, mouth slack. He literally couldn’t hold back sneezing anymore. 

“What the hell are you-”

“Huh-ISHiew! AH-chah! Ichoo! Ix-choo!” Finch gasped, grabbing blindly for a couple of kleenex from his desk, burying his face in them. “Ishiew! ISHH-iew! Ich’oo! AH-eh-shiew!”

“Holy shit-”

“AH-chiew! ISH’oo...!” Finch moaned pathetically, rubbing at his nose, his face on fire, heart pounding. Christ. Two public allergy attacks in a day. Everything was really going his way, wasn’t it? Just perfect.

“Uh… bless you,” Nina said, sounding a bit astonished. 

“Cat allergy, Nina,” Finch said crossly, his voice thick with congestion. Nina gave a long Ohhhh at this revelation. 

“Are you okay?” It was Maya, who had likely come out of her office upon hearing this scene. He wondered if she missed the previous show. “Jesus, can I get you anything, some water? Should you wash your face?”

“I did that earlier, but-” Finch threw his used kleenex in the trash and blew his nose softly into a new one. “Ugh. I just was in the studio, so…”

“Finch, this is ridiculous, you look terrible. Let me just tell my dad and you can have the day off.”

“They’re coming back next week anyway.”

“So we’ll sequester you in another room and you can work from there. We’ll… we’ll hose everyone down before they enter the room.” She laughed and Finch smiled in spite of himself. “Seriously, you should get out of here.”

“Yeah, we can’t watch this anymore!” some random guy from accounting yelled.

“Thanks,” Finch said, sniffling, pointedly ignoring the guy from accounting. “I-” he started, then sneezed softly into his elbow, “Hah-ihchoo...!” It was as if his body was so tired of expelling the allergens that it didn’t really have much energy to put much chutzpah into his sneezes, like he was on autopilot at this point.

“Bless you. I’ll talk to my dad.”

Finch gave her a grateful look as he shrugged on his jacket. “You’re a lifesaver.”

Maya looked pleased. “Well, just doing my job! Taking care of employees.”

The next week, Finch was allowed to shelter himself in an empty office, picking up the phone line from that room instead, and managed to avoid another allergy fit, though the cat dander or… whatever that protein was in still got to him (it was pretty much unavoidable), and his nose felt fairly itchy for the better part of that week. He hoped he didn’t see another cat for a long, long time.

[Sneezyflowergal]

So many sneezes, poor guy