Chapter Text
New Year’s Eve had come and gone.
It was now January 8th, and snow was falling thick and heavy, covering the entire city in a soft white blanket.
He found it wonderful.
She found it annoying.
Driving in all that snow was dangerous: they were basically trapped inside the house — a truly horrific prospect.
He’d started taking down the Christmas decorations from every corner of the living room.
At least she’d have that small victory.
She’d been nauseous lately — for nearly every scent — so she stayed sprawled on the couch while he did something as perilous as removing tinsel. He was more than capable of hurting himself in the process. She’d go back upstairs later.
He still followed her everywhere she went, for absolutely no reason. It irritated her, but she was too tired to care. And she couldn’t even drink any quad.
This pregnancy was a trap she’d fallen into all on her own.
She should’ve known that no good could ever come from sleeping with Tyler.
Now she was cursing herself.
She should’ve been in Paris with Uncle Fester, stealing jewelry, instead of falling asleep on the couch like an idiot.
How pathetic.
Tyler was whistling as he pulled tinsel off the wall.
So annoying that she threw a cushion at him.
He stopped whistling, turned around, and smiled.
“What’s up, Wens?” he asked sweetly.
“Don’t whistle,” she replied flatly.
“Absolutely, darling,” he said, bowing dramatically.
She sighed, went upstairs, closed the curtains for total darkness, and fell asleep almost immediately.
Ridiculous.
Downstairs, Tyler was wandering around like a lost puppy.
He crept upstairs, opened the bedroom door quietly, and found her fast asleep.
He knelt beside the bed, very focused, and checked that she was still breathing.
She was.
*Phew.*
Then she stopped breathing for about three seconds. He panicked instantly — until she started again.
He was very concerned. Very, *very* concerned.
He hurried downstairs to grab his phone and google “she almost died in her sleep what do I do.”
She would definitely have rolled her eyes at him right now.
But before he could type anything, he heard a weird squeaking sound coming from outside.
The kitchen window was open, so he went over to look.
The garden was buried under a thick layer of snow.
Wait—did the snow just move?
The snow had… a tail?
Oh. The snow was a kitten.
A tiny, white, squeaking kitten.
He rushed outside, scooped it up, and brought it inside.
It squeaked again — a pitiful little sound.
Aww.
He decided she was a girl. Instinct, obviously. He named her Jenny on the spot.
He gave Jenny an egg yolk, which she devoured, and then another, with a small bowl of water.
Jenny wasn’t exactly a genius and nearly fell into the bowl trying to drink.
He fished her out, laughing.
And then he remembered his literal wife upstairs.
Why was he rescuing animals instead of paying attention to her?
First a snail, now a kitten?
Sighing, he carried Jenny upstairs, knowing full well Wednesday wouldn’t want a cat in the house.
Opening the door woke her. She turned toward him sleepily.
“How was your near-death experience?” he asked, still visibly concerned.
“What?” she mumbled, confused.
Jenny squeaked.
“What was that?” she asked flatly.
“Nothing,” he said quickly, cursing under his breath.
“Tyler. What’s under your sweater?” she asked dryly.
He sighed and revealed Jenny.
Jenny squeaked again.
“What is this rat doing in our house?” she asked severely.
“It’s not a rat, it’s Jenny!” he said, scandalized.
“Who’s Jenny? And what is she doing here?” she said, sitting up, bewildered.
He sat next to her, holding Jenny — who was desperately trying to wiggle free.
“Well, you almost died, so I went downstairs to help you, and that’s when I found Jenny meowing alone in the snow,” he explained with earnest puppy eyes.
She didn’t understand half of that story, but one thing was certain: she should never leave this man alone.
A snail enthusiast and a kitten rescuer?
What had she done to deserve this?
Jenny finally wiggled free and fell off the bed with a soft *thump.*
“Aaaw, Jenny!” he exclaimed, scooping her back up.
Jenny squeaked again and climbed right onto Wednesday’s stomach.
“Why is this cat so loud?” she asked, deadpan.
“She’s an orphan, Wens. Show some respect,” he said with conviction.
She sighed as Jenny curled up on her stomach, purring loudly.
At least the little creature was acting as a decent heating pad.
Tyler looked like he might actually *die* from how cute it was — and immediately launched into a speech about the two loves of his life getting along.
Wait. Loves of his life? Jenny?
She turned to glare at him.
“Aww, Wens, don’t be jealous. I love Jenny, but I love you so much more,” he said, smiling and kissing her cheek.
She should hope so.
She’d gone upstairs for a peaceful nap and ended up with a “rat” on her stomach and a clingy man kissing her cheek every few seconds.
He lay down beside her, one arm around her waist — Jenny included — and kept kissing her cheek or neck from time to time.
Completely unnecessary.
Somehow, she still managed to fall asleep like that.
When she woke up later, it was nighttime. Nothing had changed, except that Jenny was now sitting on her chest, staring at her, while Tyler slept beside her.
This cat was weird.
And yet, she didn’t even say no to keeping it.
At least it would give Tyler something else to focus on besides following her around.
She sighed, closed her eyes, and drifted back to sleep.