Chapter Text
Cristóbal eyed the cat suspiciously. Agnes had stolen it from Coppelius when she’d heard that Elnor had never seen a cat and because she said it had been very lonely in there. In reality, Cristóbal suspected that Agnes had wanted something to hug and he couldn’t blame her for that – he’d heard her having nightmares and crying out heartbreakingly. Maybe she’d just needed some comfort, because she had been unable to ask for any.
“I’m not a cat person”, he said, trying to look annoyed. The cat looked up at him and meowed, as if it was trying to win his affections by being nice to him. Fat chance. Cristóbal would not warm to the little vermin, not now, not ever.
“Aw, don’t worry”, Agnes said, scratching the cat’s cheek, “Spot II won’t bother you. Right, sweetie? You won’t bother Captain Rios?”
Cristóbal raised an eyebrow. Agnes was cooing to the cat. Agnes. Cooing to a cat. The world had probably gone mad and forgotten to give Cristóbal a note to prepare for it because as far as he knew, Agnes Jurati did not coo to any cat ever.
“Well, since it’s synthetic, there’s a chance it won’t shed, I hope?” Cristóbal really hoped the creature didn’t shed. He was not up to finding cat hair on his clothes or on his seat or in his coffee. Yeah, definitely not in his coffee. His mother had had a dog and the bloody thing had been shedding everywhere, especially in Cristóbal’s cereal.
“Mm…I think he does”, Agnes said, looking almost apologetical.
Cristóbal shook his head, smiling fondly. He hadn’t smiled like that in years. That smile was reserved for Agnes Jurati, the woman who shouldn’t have been able to steal Cristóbal’s heart and yet he had given it up willingly. He cupped Agnes’ cheek and kissed her forehead, smiling.
“Fine, I’ll tolerate it”, he said, “but only because you like it.”
Agnes smiled and kissed Cristóbal’s cheek. She then turned around and walked away, cooing to the little beast.
---
Large eyes were looking up at Cristóbal who was sitting on the captain’s chair. He was pointedly ignoring them, keeping his paper book between himself and the pair of eyes. He was good at ignoring things with large eyes; nothing could make him budge (minus his old shipmate Ira who had been like a little sister to him) and so the cat should be no trouble at all. Not even when it sunk its claws into Cristóbal’s trouser leg, scratching him. He could take it.
“I really am not a cat person, you know”, he said absentmindedly. “You might want to try Elnor or Raffi, not me.”
The cat meowed and jumped up on Cristóbal’s lap. It curled up, purring like a tiny engine, while Cristóbal made a face at it. He disliked having the little devil nearby. Even so, he stroked its fur.
“You know”, he said, “when I tell you I’m not a cat person, I mean it. I don’t want you sleeping on me or heaven forbid on my book. I want alone time, you see. So, could you kindly hop off my legs and sleep somewhere else?”
The cat moved and bared its stomach to Cristóbal. What a dumb animal; it was giving the enemy a point of attack. It clearly did not understand that Cristóbal was not a friend. Even though he was scratching the cat’s jaw.
“Get off, little beast”, Cristóbal muttered.
The cat didn’t get off. Instead it rolled on Cristóbal’s lap, purring happily.
---
Cristóbal woke up, hearing something shift on his bed. He opened his eyes and saw the little devil in the middle of a massive yawn. Well, to Cristóbal it looked more like the cat’s face splitting open. Right. That was totally normal behaviour for a cat, right?
“I do remember telling you I dislike cats”, he mumbled as he sat up. “How did you get in? Is this a prank Agnes is pulling on me? In that case, congratulations, Agnes. Prank successfully pulled off. Can you please stop hiding and take this beast away?”
Agnes, however, did not bounce out from any hiding place. Instead the cat let out a soft ‘mrp’ and headbutted Cristóbal’s bare side. Cristóbal made a face – he didn’t enjoy being tickled like that – and pushed the cat away.
“I don’t like being tickled”, Cristóbal muttered and stood up. He found himself a shirt and picked up his paper book before sitting down on one of his armchairs. The cat jumped on the free chair and meowed loudly.
“Oh, shut up”, Cristóbal sighed. “Emmett!”
“¿Qué pasó?” asked the tired hologram who materialised next to Cristóbal. Cristóbal pointed at the cat and Emmett’s eyes flew open.
“Well, hello there, little one”, Emmett said, smiling, and lifted up the cat. “Emil told me Agnes brought home a cat.”
“No me hueí”, Cristóbal muttered and rubbed his eyes. Emmett grinned and placed the cat on Cristóbal’s lap. The cat instantly began purring and rubbing its forehead against Cristóbal’s chest.
“I won’t give you any food”, Cristóbal said, petting the little menace.
---
Cristóbal had fallen asleep at the helm, again. Spot II had taken its usual place on the captain’s lap, as if it was piloting the ship. It purred like a small engine and it looked awfully pleased with itself.
“This doesn’t add up, Agnes” Raffi said, “are you sure Chris hates cats? Doesn’t look much like a cat-hater to me.”
“Oh, yes.” Agnes smiled widely. “Terribly. He cannot stand Spot II at all.”
“…you’re messing with me, aren’t you?”
“A little. Did you know that cats can tell when someone isn’t feeling good? They usually sit near the person who isn’t okay and purr to make them heal better. I think Spot II is trying to help Chris in his own way.”
“Aw, isn’t that sweet. So, how long do you reckon Chris is going to keep up that cat-hater façade?”
“I’d say forever. He likes to think he’s very tough and hates everyone, after all.”
“Amen to that.”