Work Text:
I Can Has Book?
Tea, check. Classical music playing softly in the background, check. Latest Stephen King novel, check.
Loki sighed happily as he sat down in his recliner, put his feet up, and pulled a blanket over his lap.
He was looking forward to a quiet and relaxing afternoon. He had just gotten back from a particularly rough mission. Darcy was out shopping with Jane, which meant he had the entire place to himself. He cracked his neck, stretched his arms, and then opened the book and began to read.
A few minutes later, just as he was getting to the really good part of the first chapter, he felt a slight tug on the blanket. He ignored it, instead shifting his feet to get a more comfortable angle…then he felt it again.
He lifted up the blanket and looked, but there was nothing there. He narrowed his eyes and looked around, trying to figure out what was going on. It wasn’t their cat, Loki (the one who wasn’t named after him) – he was curled up on the couch, pretending he was asleep (the effect was rather ruined by the slits of green eyes he could see watching him).
He waited a few seconds more, but when nothing happened, he shrugged and returned to his book.
A few chapters later, he felt it again – tug, tug.
Irritated, he slammed the book shut, threw the blanket aside, and went into the kitchen to make himself a fresh cup of tea – he had been so engrossed in the book that he had forgotten about it, and it was cold now.
When he came back, he felt better, and settled back in to read.
The next few chapters went by without incident, and he slowly relaxed as he started to get back into the story. Once Loki started reading, he became totally engrossed in the story – a herd of elephants could storm through the living room and he wouldn’t have noticed (much like Darcy slept).
He reached out for the tea, turning the page at the same time, but halfway through the gesture, realized that it wasn’t moving…and then he heard the sound of paper tearing.
He withdrew his arm and looked down at the book to see what was happening. A pair of blue eyes started back at him – a small, hairless, kitten with wrinkled skin (a Sphynx, he thought it was called) had its teeth latched onto the top of the book, one paw next to its mouth, little kitten claws digging into the right page.
He tugged on the book, and the kitten dug its teeth and claws in deeper.
“Let go! Unless you want to be turned into a bug, you little monster,” he hissed, “Where did you come from, anyway?”
“Darcy!” he shouted, before remembering that she wasn’t there and resuming glaring at the kitten.
When it just continued to stare back at him, he sighed and tried a different tactic – it was painfully obvious he wasn’t going to get any reading done today.
“Fine. I’ll stop reading. Can you please let go?” he asked the kitten. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought that the kitten paused for a second, as if gauging his trustworthiness, before finally letting go.
“How do I know I’ve lost it?” he whispered to himself, “I’m negotiating with a kitten.”
He put the book aside and the kitten promptly curled up on his lap and began purring. Loki (the cat), who was no longer pretending to sleep, sat up and blinked at the kitten that was stealing his person.
“Let’s see what your name is,” he said, scratching the kitten’s chin so that it would lift its head and he could see its name tag.
“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” he said.
He continued petting the kitten, distracting it (it was as needy as its namesake), while he reached for his cell phone.
“Loki!” Darcy said cautiously, trying to sound innocent, when she answered, “What’s going on?”
“Stark, Darcy? Really?” he asked.
There was silence on the end of the phone, and then Darcy started laughing.
“What? It doesn’t have any hair, so it’s stark…I swear I didn’t name it after him!” Darcy protested between fits of laughter.
“By the way,” she asked, “How do you feel about Golden Retrievers?”
Loki, who was well aware of the propensity of Thor being likened to a Golden Retriever on the internet, growled, “Don’t.you.dare.”
“Can we keep him? Please?”
Loki looked down at the kitten, who was fast asleep, its little warm body surprisingly heavy in his lap. He had to admit it was adorable.
He sighed, giving in, which she knew he would.
“I suppose…I’ll see you when you get home…WITHOUT any more animals!” he answered.
“Would I do that? Love you!” she said.
He answered in kind, then hung up the phone.
The kitten was still asleep, and Loki (the cat) had gone back to sleep, so the house was quiet again…maybe he could finally continue reading his book. He put down his phone, picked up the book, and turned to the page he had been reading. He stopped half-way through the page and groaned (softly, so he didn’t wake the kitten up).
He had to pee.