worthallthis | The Last Voyages: IC Inbox

The movement draws her attention even before the indignant squeaks of the displaced kittens do, and her self control is good enough to keep her expression neutral as she steps into full view, throttling down the twinge of worry at the depth of the shadows beneath his eyes and the fact that she's found him stretched out on the floor.

She lifts the mug, then sets it down with a pointed click on a nearby table, not entirely out of reach of enterprising catlets - is anything? - but high enough that they'd have to work to get over to investigate, and that he'd have time to catch them.

"Coffee. I promise it is not poisoned."

At the sight of her, he starts to smile, a tentative sort of thing that says he'll be friendly and answer whatever question she might have come here with, and not push. But then she speaks, and he can't help it, the smile slides into something more real and warm. "Thanks," he says. Caffeine won't do much for him, but he still loves the taste.

Also, he adds as he pushes himself up to sit instead of sprawl half back, "I never woulda thought it was." Kittens attempt to start climbing him, whether trying to get up his back to his dangling hair, or just into his lap.

"It was a joke," she assures. The corners of her mouth twitch faintly as she watches the kittens try to scale him, a brief ghost of humour.

"At least the babies seem to be blissfully oblivious to all the bullshit."

"Thank god. Floods almost never affect the animals on board," B agrees, catching one of the kittens as she slides down his arm, unable to keep traction on the vibranium. He cradles her against his chest, instead, stroking a thumb between her tiny little ears. "Worst they have to deal with is their people acting funny. How's your girl in all this?"

That's...actually pretty adorable, and it takes genuine effort to keep her expression from softening any further than that tiny flicker of amusement.

"I think she's ready for things to go back to normal," she says. "I...haven't wanted to risk dragging her into a nightmare, or not recognizing her if I fell into one, so our walks have been much more sedate than she'd like. I'm definitely going to have to make it up to her when this is over."

"Aw man. Poor gal. Let me know if you wanna let her loose in the Enclosure sometime, once this is over?" he offers, smiling wearily up at her, but still with warmth. "We should only have another two days or so left of this. Can put together that dog park Laura made, again. Maybe let her run around with Libby, D, and the pups."

There's a moment's pause, long enough to be obvious, as she considers the offer, weighs the risks of cracking the metaphorical door open that much. But there's Mila to think about - and she deserves both the socialization and the chance to really run that the deck doesn't quite afford.

"I think she would like that." Her head cants slightly, and she adds, "Would Steve be joining us?"

Though the final agreement does give him a moment of relief, if not quite hope, B sighs heavily at the question. "Depends. He's in what we call a Barge coma. Basically stasis. Happens about once a year with him, though this is-- earlier than I expect it, this year."

He pets the kitten, while a couple more do in fact make it up the back of his shirt(s) to get to his shoulders, mewling. "I don't ever know how long it's gonna last, but I wouldn't be surprised if he's still down when the flood's over."

"Are you sure it's...stasis, and not another form of the waking dreams?" she asks, and though she manages to keep her voice mostly neutral, there's a faint crimping at the corners of her eyes and mouth.

After a moment, she steps forward, with the caution of someone who isn't entirely sure the floor beneath her isn't rotted through badly enough to send her plunging to the depths below if she sets one foot wrong, and picks up one of the mewing kitten from his shoulder, nestling it in the crook of her arm and stroking two fingers along its back.

He hesitates for a beat as that possibility sinks into his brain, giving her plenty of time to collect a kitten, then says, "Well, now I'm not." And it's kind of horrific to think that maybe Steve is actually awake somehow and he just can't see him, or that Steve is the one stuck in a dream and can't get out.

Logic attempts to reassert itself. "But. He did conk out the day before all this started, so... probably not?"

"I wasn't trying to make you worry," she says, eyes on the kitten instead of on him, the corners of her mouth ticking up slightly as it arches its entire tiny body into the petting. "It's just...there is so much that people just seem to accept about how things work here."

She rolls her shoulders, and switches track abruptly. "Do you have people picked out for all the babies yet?"

"Mostly because it's happened pretty much the same way for so long, it's hard to think of it changing up too much," B admits.

He accepts the subject change, though, hitching his shoulder a little as the kitten sitting on it tries to sink her baby needle teeth into his earlobe. "Not yet. I was gonna give it another week or two, post-flood, maybe make a post about it. Ow, kitten, come on--" He finally goes to detangle her. "--all else fails," he adds, "should be a port next month. Maybe it'll be somewhere with an animal rescue."

He can hope.

"I think you have an admirer," Yelena says, sounding ever so slightly amused as she watches him try to extricate himself from the tiny huntress. "Or she's just jealous her sister was getting all the attention."

She pauses, a slightly uneasy feel to it, like she's weighing something.

"I've already got two dogs, two cats, and a ferret." He has since slipped off the ship long enough to get rid of the cannibal fairy. She was too creepy. And dangerous. "I really, really do not need another cat. There we go, honey." He finally deposits the kitten on the ground, and distracts her with a toy with a bell in it, rolling it across the floor. She bounds after it.

The kitten in the crook of his arm rolls his head over to look, too, then scrambles free to chase them both, leaving B with just one kitten sprawled across his knee and purring.

He lets Yelena decide whatever it is she wants to say without pushing. Unless she takes like five minutes to come out with it, in which case he'll move on.

Yelena sets the kitten she'd retrieved down to zoom over and bowl over its smaller sibling as it joins the game, less out of intent than out of being young enough to not have quite figured out the whole stopping thing yet.

"They're cute," Yelena says. "I don't think you'll have a problem finding takers."

"You never know. A lot of people, if they don't already have pets, might not actually want 'em. Or they got 'em specifically from their wardens," B says, watching the kittens play with a little smile. "But I can hope. I might try to convince Natasha to take one. Think it might do her good."

"I think she is probably on the not ever wanting one side," Yelena says carefully, eyes on the kittens and their game of chase-slash-wrestling match. "Or anything else to tie her down."

She glances at him sidelong. "Have you met Allan? The doll one. Red hair, wears flip-flops."

B isn't so sure of that, but he'll let it pass. Yelena probably knows Natasha better than he does, anyway. "Yeah. I showed him how to milk a goat a couple weeks ago. Weird kid, but not bad."

"Very weird," Yelena agrees. "But he likes dogs. Probably he shouldn't have one until he understands living things a little better, but he might be good for helping socialize the puppies. And it might be good for him."

"Huh." B considers this a moment. "You know, after my first breach, somebody got me a cat. She'd been trying to get me one for a few weeks before, too. I was more terrified I'd kill her on accident than I think Allan would be, but she definitely helped me. I'll see if he's interested."

He flashes Yelena a warm, if still very tired smile. "Thanks. For thinking about him."

She shrugs, a quick, dismissive hitch of one shoulder, intent clear - don't read anything into it. She hasn't bought into the mission of the Barge, is further, perhaps, than she had been when she arrived.

She just has some sympathy for someone who's so unused to having agency that they have to poll a prison boat full of strangers to figure out having preferences.

"I should go before any stupid shit has a chance to happen," she says, and heads for the door, edging carefully around the playing kittens. "Don't forget to drink your coffee before the babies decide to try getting into it."

Because kittens.

"I won't," B promises. "Good night, Yelena."

And now that he is mostly kitten free, for the moment, he does in fact reach for that coffee, letting her take her leave.

The Last Voyages: IC Inbox

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