Archive of Our Own

“Stjarna, where have you gotten yourself to, now?”

Walking on silent paws, Stjarna moved from one place of cover to the next, humor and affection making her whiskers twitch. She knew she would be caught eventually, but that was fine. That was all a part of the game she played with her Person, and she knew that he enjoyed it as much as she did. Certainly he was never as annoyed as his voice made it sound. Whenever he found her, he lifted her up with gentle hands and would nuzzle his face to hers. He never purred his contentment, but the sounds he did make were always pleased, and he would stoke her fur and rub her ears until she was loud enough for both of them.

Her Person made a clucking sound, the one which usually meant it was time for food. She knew it for the ruse it was, and remained hidden beneath the corner chair, safe from discovery for now.

Memories of early life were foggy and indistinct, and for the most part she didn’t like to think too much on them. One of the things which she did remember somewhat clearly were times when she had hidden as she was now, but with no sense of fun and affection. She had hid to stay safe from the claws and teeth of Others, from the wet rain, from the loud machines that crushed the unwary, and from the ever-present cold.

How long that time had been she wasn’t certain. Looking back it felt as though it could have been an eternity before the first Person had found her, too tired and cold to run away, and lifted her up into warmth. Not long after that the world became clearer, more distinct, and her thoughts sharp as fangs in comparison to the fog of before.

Footfalls nearly as quiet as her own approached her hiding place, and she snugged her body closer to the wall and the corner, making herself as small as possible. She tried to remain still as well, but the tip of her tail twitched irrepressibly with excitement. It was her favorite part of the game, the anticipation of being found, of the chase renewed. It made actually being caught, the play and affection she would be rewarded with for being such a clever girl, all that much the better.

She watched under the edge of the chair as the feet approached, turned, and made their rounds, searching for her.

“Come along, Stjarna, it’s almost time for dinner,” her Person coaxed between clucks. “I know you like salmon, and don’t you try and pretend you don’t.”

She did like salmon, and she licked her lips at the promise of food to come, but still didn’t move from her spot. The food would still be there a few minutes from now – it was one of the best aspects of her new life in warmth, the knowledge that food wouldn’t disappear if not eaten immediately. She could wait, continue the game, and still depend on food being in her future.

The feet of her Person came nearer, paused, and then knees appeared as he folded down from his high standing position, soon followed by the shadowed sight of his face peering in at her. His teeth flashed in a friendly way, long fur falling round his ears, eyes the same color as hers’ crinkling at their corners. “Found you now, little mischief.”

Stjarna wiggled backward and further into her corner though there was nowhere it go, tail lashing. It was more for show than anything else, and her Person could tell. More teeth flashed, and as he reached for her he patted along the floor playfully, scratching along the carpet with blunt nails. She swatted at the encroaching hand without claws, which made her Person chuckle.

She was caught, of course, giving a token wiggle as her Person lifted her out from underneath the chair and into bright openness.

“And what were you hoping to achieve by that, little miss?” Her Person wrapped her up snuggly in both of his hands, tickling lightly behind her ears and over her head. “Did you think you’d escape?”

Stjarna purred, the rumble strong enough to make her entire frame vibrate as she pushed her head up into his hand.

This was one of her first really clear memories. Not the first Person who took her from cold to warm, but the second Person, her Person, holding her and stroking her head gently, soft and strange voice soothing over her just as gently. Many of her early clear memories were of her Person. Him holding her, talking to her, feeding her, or just being in the same room as him, comfortable and feeling safe.

He stroked her nose, making her open her eyes to look at him again. “I promise your dinner isn’t as bad as that.”

She meowed back at him, sarcastic and sassy, and his smile flashed again. Other Persons didn’t seem to understand her very well, except for when she was being incredibly obvious, but her Person always did. Her Person was special like that, understanding her so well and making himself understood to her.

“I have my own dinner, thank you very much. Though if you want to skip a meal, we could. I don’t think you’ll waste away immediately.” He rubbed playfully at her belly, fingers lost in the long gray fluff.

She grabbed the probing digits, claws coming out just enough to prick at them. Her Person didn’t mind the warning, chuckling again and rubbing at her head.

They didn’t skip their dinner. Whatever her Person might say, they had never missed a meal, and she had never been left wanting for anything, be it warmth, company or play. The foggy memories of before all had the uncomfortable cast of cold, wet, hungry and afraid. The sharp new memories of now were all full of contentment, and she wouldn’t change a single thing of her life as it was now.

Well. Maybe one thing.

—•—

A distinctive whoosh-click sound caught Stjarna’s sleeping ear and brought her quickly out of her mid-morning doze. It was the sound of visitors, and there were few who visited her Person with any sort of regularity. Quickly she unfolded from her bed in the couch pillows and trotted to where she could look round a safe corner to see who it was.

A door opening and footfalls came next, just enough for her to register who it was before a voice confirmed it.

“Hey, Lokes! You forget we had a date for some sexy, sexy lab shenanigans? Cuz I didn’t. Oh, hey, Dust Bunny, how are you?”

Stjarna, having run out from her semi-hiding place once she knew who it was who had come to visit, meowed loudly up at him. Their visitor, Anthony, grinned and bent down to give her some quick pets. She arched up into his hand, purring happily.

Anthony was one of her favorite People. After her Person, he was her absolute favorite. He was the first Person who had found her and brought her in to the warm and to her Person. That was enough to like him, but he was also friendly and gave good head scratches. His hands weren’t quite as nice as her Person’s, they were still gentle and sometimes playful. He also didn’t seem to understand her quite as well as her Person, but he tried his best.

“Hello, Stark,” her Person said from behind her. Since Anthony was still stroking along her spine and tickling her chin, she stayed where she was. “Was today our day for spending in your dungeons? I must have lost track of time.”

“Uh huh,” Anthony replied, not stopping in his caresses, the good Person he was. “Got all wrapped up in your secret-y secrets again? One of these days I’ll convince you to show me how some of your magic works.”

Stjarna opened her eyes to slits to look at Anthony, who was looking over her to smile at her Person with a teasing sort of smile. He looked at her Person like that a lot, poking fun, testing boundaries. He was the only one she ever saw really do that. Certainly he was the only one who did it in a way that her Person actually responded to.

“As though it would do you any good to be shown,” her Person commented, scoffing lightly. “You may be one of the most intelligent of your kind, Stark, but even if you understood the theory of seiðr perfectly, there’s no reason at all to think that you would be able to harness it at all.”

“I notice that you don’t say that it’s impossible,” Anthony replied, smile stretching wide. “But that’s hardly the point, is it? The point isn’t how well I might learn to perform, but in the experience and knowledge gained.”

Stjarna trilled in response, which made Anthony grin even wider. “See? Dust Bunny agrees with me.”

Her Person gave a soft snort. “Little traitor that she is,” he grumbled.

She purred even louder, swiping her tail back and forth playfully. Her Person could understand her perfectly, and sometimes it seemed like Anthony understood her perfectly as well.

“She’s just showing good sense,” Anthony said, and slipped his hands underneath her to pick her up. She curled up in his grip, still small enough to fit snugly in his hands. “Possibly more than her grump of a Papa. If you want to join us, then you know where the fun is being had.”

Stjarna trilled, calling back her own comment to her Person, who responded with a sigh and what sounded to her like a series of aborted retorts.

Anthony carried her to the elevator, not responding at all to Her Person’s spluttering. The little box was warmer than it had been in the apartment. Her Person’s apartment was always a little cooler than it was anywhere else in the Tower, but she didn’t mind.

Just before the doors of the elevator slid to a close, Her Person slipped inside.

Anthony was wise enough not to say anything. Her Person chose not to say anything, either.

Stjarna purred happily between them.

—•—

“He really is an exasperating human. I thought that I would have dealt with the most annoying of people after putting up with Thor’s friends for so long. But no, of course he must go out of his way to prove that he’s ‘the very best’ at even that.”

Living with people was a strange thing. Stjarna hadn’t done much in the way of living with her own kind before being picked up by Anthony and brought inside, but she remembered enough to make the comparison.

“’Show him how magic works.’ As though he would have any hope whatsoever in being able to repeat anything I showed him.”

People were strange, and in ways she had no way of guessing at before she had come to live amongst them. They ways they worried and became preoccupied, the sorts of difficulties they created seemingly for no other reason than that they could. The sorts of lives they lived, indoors and in the warm, it seemed to Stjarna that there should be very little in the way of trouble. And yet they always seemed to find more for themselves. It was puzzling, and a little frustrating.

“Why in the name of all the Realms would he want to see my magic…?”

Stjarna looked over from the little fuzzy ball on a string she had been idly batting at as her Person had been speaking and gave her opinion on the matter, thumping her tail to the floor for emphasis.

Her Person, who was shuffling through his many, many books once again, looked up at her with surprise flashing in his eyes. His brows drew close over his nose, and if he’d had the fur for it, she thought it would probably be prickling up. “Well, he certainly… doesn’t seem to dislike my company, that’s true…”

Her Person trailed off, turning back to his books, but she doubted he was doing very much with them. He had his thoughtful look in place, which was either a blessing or a curse.

Stjarna had come to the conclusion that People were intelligent, but they weren’t terribly smart. It was a strange difference, and probably the one which made People as a whole so different. They could do all manner of things, were very clever in that way, but were also their own worst enemies, thinking themselves in circles.

“No, not dislike…” Her Person murmured to himself. “But unless he truly hates or distrusts, his attitude is always… warm. How is one to determine anything more beyond ‘friendly’ with such a temperament?”

Her Person wasn’t speaking to her. He would often speak to himself, for all the good it did him, even though she was in the room and had never held back her own opinion. She wondered if it was a case of just having so many thoughts chasing around in his skull that some spilled out. If that were the case, then it was no wonder that he never got anywhere with his musings.

She batted at her ball.

The trouble was, living with People, and moreover caring for some of them as much as she did, it meant that she felt obliged to think as well. It was rather inconvenient, in her opinion. Especially when she considered that if Her People would just learn to think better, or to think a little less, then they wouldn’t need her help at all. But such was the way with People, it would seem. They took care of her with warmth, shelter and food, so in return she would do their thinking for them.

—•—

“Hey there, Dust Bunny, what’re you up to?”

Stjarna lifted up her tail and gave a full throated meow in reply. Anthony never caught her full meaning, but he always seemed to enjoy it when she replied to him directly.

As expected, he laughed, eyes crinkling at their corners. “Is that right? Well, then, it must be important if you feel so strongly about it.” Anthony patted the seat cushions beside him invitingly. Stjarna obliged with the summons and hopped up onto the couch next to him.

She looked over what Anthony was working on, but it made little sense to her. Like her Person, Anthony liked to work with papers and objects, all of which were interesting on their own, some making good toys to chase around when she could get her paws on them, but which neither of them played with for their own sakes. Always they moved their objects around and around, looking and touching and shifting, but never simply enjoying them on their own. Though they did like to take small things and make bigger things out of them… Stjarna didn’t see much point in the exercise. Why make something big that you couldn’t play with when there were so many little things to bat around?

Anthony distracted her looking and inquisitive mini-bats at his toys with a scratch under her chin. She purred.

“One of these days you’re going to tell me how it is you get around the Tower so easily,” Anthony said, still scratching. “I know Lokes isn’t just leaving the door open for you.”

She opened up an eye to a slit to look at Anthony coyly. The first time she had managed to get from her Person’s area into Anthony’s without being brought by either one of them had been a day full of questions being asked fairly loudly, and of Anthony going over the whole Tower looking for holes she could slip through. It had been confusing at the time, but looking back, she understood the real alarm hadn’t been that she had managed the trip. The real concern came from that she had been able to do it at all, and so others might as well. These days Anthony was puzzled over her ability, but not outright alarmed. He’d come to terms with it with the statement, “Just a cat thing.”

Stjarna decided not to ever let on her secret of getting around. It was more fun when no one really knew.

Anthony was smiling at her, and chuckled when he spotted her look. “You’re a clever little thing, but I’ll figure you out eventually. I’ll find a treat you just can’t resist.”

She mewped at him, again, because she knew that it made him happy when she replied to him directly.

He stroked along her back. “Maybe if I find the perfect treat for you, you can act as my little spy as well. After all, who would suspect such a cute little mole?”

She batted at his fingers, and then flipped onto her back play with his hand. He obliged, prodding gently at her belly with his fingers so she could grab at them in mock battle.

“I’m glad he took you in. I knew he would, but still… I’m glad. You’ve been good for him, giving him something other than his books and spells to concentrate on. Though I’ll have you know there’s been an unseen side effect. Do you know how badly I’ve wanted to make witch jokes now he has a proper familiar? I’m pretty sure he’d kick my ass if I said any of them. He can get a little touchy about his magic, can’t he?”

Suddenly Stjarna was enveloped in both of Anthony’s hands, their smell both earthy and metallic, a strange combination which only Anthony could boast. She flailed in his grip, both hands almost overwhelming. If it had been her Person doing it, it probably would have been. His touch was different than anyone else’s, tingly and ticklish. It was nice when it was only one hand, but two could get to be too much quickly.

Anthony’s hands didn’t do that, which was a shame much of the time. It would have been nice if his hands also tingled. At least they didn’t snap and spark, like Thor’s did sometimes. She didn’t like his touch very much, it had a habit of making her fur crackle for ages even after he left, and she’d have to spend an hour licking it all back down into shape.

Anthony sighed and released her at once, making her flip onto her side, limbs still flailing to catch herself.

“It would be nice if you could be a scout for me. Give me some idea of what’s going on in that witch-y head of his. I mean, it’s not like I don’t put hints out there, is it? With how clever he is, you’d think he’d pick up on a couple of them, but nooooo…” He sighed, and tugged at her ear. “I suppose I could just give it up as a bad experiment… I mean dating an ex-villain from a far off planet is probably not the greatest idea. Let alone the HR nightmare of dating a co-worker. I can just imagine the many layers of chewing out Pep would give me over that one.”

Finally back on her feet, Stjarna tilted her head at Anthony, gave him a small, neutral mewp, and launched herself up to his shoulder. He’d gotten much better at not flinching when she did that, which was good. She liked riding on shoulders. It gave her a good view. She rubbed against Anthony’s head, purring. Sometimes she wished that Anthony understood her as well as her Person did. It might simplify things. Or possibly not… both men seemed determined to miss meanings even when they were obvious.

“I’m glad I found you, Dust Bunny,” he murmured, reaching to scratch her clumsily. “He’s been good to you, but I think you’ve been even better for him. And with you around at least there’ll always be an excuse to come over, right? Visitation rights.”

Stjarna just continued her purring, curling her tail round Anthony’s neck and settling down on his shoulder. Eventually Anthony ceased in his petting and turned his attention back to his project, whatever it actually was. Occasionally he was say something to her, or lift a hand to rub at her ears, but she didn’t mind the intermittent attention.

She had been thinking for some time that she was going to have to take some action. Her two favorite Persons were both, admittedly, idiots when it came to each other. They spoke of each other, but never when they were face to face. They were both happy whenever they were in company together, wanted to extend those times… but never managed to do more than occasional visits. It was aggravating, and she’d been trying to think of some way to fix it. After all, having them together all the time would be good for them, and be very good for her. Two Persons all to herself, who petted and talked to her, and each made strange little lights for her to chase? Nothing could be better.

And she was pretty sure she had an idea for how to make it happen.

—•—

“Stjarna, bring that back this instant!”

Stjarna ignored the call from her Person, sinking her teeth a little bit deeper into her prize as she sped from the workroom and towards the elevator. She wasn’t certain what the thing in her mouth was meant to do, only that her Person needed it and wouldn’t be able to continue with whatever task he was working on without it. That was enough to make it worth grabbing, a perfect candidate for the trick she intended to pull.

“I mean it, Stjarna, drop it!”

She didn’t drop it. She didn’t look back and she didn’t veer form her path to the elevator. With a particular twitch of her ears the doors opened smoothly before her, and then snapped shut behind her before her Person could catch up. She dropped her prize for a second in order to yowl at the ceiling, and the elevator began to move. She twitched her tail, pleased, and with a quick lick at her shoulder picked up the thing her Person wanted so much, and prepared.

As soon as the doors opened again, Stjarna shot out, her ears brushing against either door, they were still so close.

“Whoa! Dust Bunny?”

She didn’t stop for a second, knowing that as soon as her Person knew which floor she’d stopped on—

“Stark!”

“Lokes? What’s going on? Did—did Dust Bunny just run past with a bat wing in her mouth?”

“I do wish you would stop calling her that, it’s undignified.”

“Well, maybe I wouldn’t have to if you’d given her a name which was the least bit pronounceable.”

“St-YAR-nuh,” her Person drew it out slowly. “Really, Stark, you need to come up with better excuses.”

“Uh huh, sure. You didn’t answer my question, though, was that a—“

“Yes, Stark, it was a bat wing. Now would you mind very much in helping me retrieve it? The little minx stole that wing just as I was in need of it.”

“…you know what? I’m not going to ask what it was for. But I am taking this as more evidence that the ‘witch’ moniker applies to you more than you want to admit.”

At a distance, Stjarna heard her Person give a frustrated growl, but he didn’t delay them any further with arguing. Instead the sounds of two sets of footsteps came closer, but slowly, having apparently lost track of where exactly she was. Quietly, she pushed herself further back under the bit of furniture she’d picked, keeping a careful eye on the route she had planned.

A moment or two passed as the two men went around the rooms, peering under and behind things for her. Then, because Anthony couldn’t seem to let silence hang when there was anyone nearby to speak to, did. “Why exactly did you let a kitten in where you were doing magic if it was so sensitive? You know she’s playful and likes to get into trouble. Takes after her dad like that.”

Her Person snorted, the sound muffled slightly as he was wedged behind a bookcase to look for her. “I assure you, I didn’t let her into my workroom while performing sensitive rituals. I had the door carefully locked and her favorite food lain out to keep her distracted. I don’t know how she gets into every space she’s not meant to be in, but somehow…”

“Yeah, I’ve been wondering about that, actually. Same with the elevator, really. That’s not meant to just automatically go wherever it wants to when someone steps inside. JARVIS,” Anthony called in a slightly louder voice. “Have you been bringing the kitten around to places for your own amusement?”

“No, sir, I have not.”

Anthony made a strange sound with his mouth, close to the clicking sound he would make when he wanted to get her attention. Carefully, Stjarna crept closer to the door she wanted to get through.

“You know, I was just thinking of it as a weird little mystery that wasn’t all that important, but how the hell is she getting into locked rooms? It’s starting to drive me up the wall.”

“The mystery of cats, sir,” the voice from the ceiling said.

Anthony grumbled, and Stjarna began to worry. It was one of her little secrets which even her Person wasn’t aware of. Her Person could understand her, and Anthony sometimes could get the basics. Even more rarely others besides those two would get very basic ideas, but she hardly tried with them. But the voice in the ceiling seemed to also understand her perfectly, and more to the point, did what she asked of it. Even her Person didn’t seem to realize that, which made getting where she wasn’t meant to be so much easier.

It was awful to think that her current mission might mean sacrificing that secret. It was a worthy mission so long as she was successful, but to lose that little advantage would be a shame…

“Perhaps,” said the voice from the ceiling, “the kitten has gained some degree of magical ability from having spent so much time in Mr. Liesmith’s company?”

“Not possible, JARVIS,” her Person put in quickly. “I have not performed the appropriate rituals for that kind of transference of—“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what? You mean there are actual rituals for that sort of thing? Like you could actually give the hyperactive kitten demonic powers?”

“I take exception to calling any powers I might give her demonic…”

“Hey, I’m not saying I disapprove, I’m just trying to get an idea of possibilities.”

While the two of them appeared to be distracted, the door Stjarna had been edging towards opened just far enough to allow her to slip through. She flicked her tail in appreciation as it slid shut again behind her. The new room was darker than the one before, with only the lessening light of outside streaming in and chasing away shadows. It smelled heavily of Anthony and sleep, even though it had probably been hours since he had last been in this room. It was one of those rooms where Persons came to do the majority of their sleeping, and those kinds of rooms always held on to the smells of Persons.

Uncertain of when the two of them would come to seek her out – since the door had been closed, and as they said, she ought not to be able to get in – she crept under the bed, careful to keep her prize between her teeth.

She hoped this worked. She didn’t want to have to come up with another ridiculous plan.

It didn’t take very long, thankfully, before the door to the room slid open the whole way, and both her Person and Anthony walked in.

“—tell you, something is up with Dust Bunny, no way she got in here on her own. Are you sure you didn’t sleep-magic her into something?”

“Be very glad that magic takes considerably more focus than would be possible while asleep, Stark.”

“… you know, you put it like that and suddenly I am. Alright, J, we know where she is in here?”

The ceiling beeped. “I believe you will find her under the bed, close to the wall at the head.”

“Of course she is.”

There was a little bit of grunting as the two men dropped to their knees, and then weak light streamed in as they lifted the fabric all around the bottom of the bed to peek underneath. Anthony’s eyes landed on her first and he gave a grin. “There you are, little bun. Hanging out with your cousins, are you?”

Her Person spotted her soon after, following Anthony’s line of sight, and gave her an exasperated expression. “Come on, Stjarna, that’s enough mischief for one day.”

“Never thought I’d ever hear you tell someone that they’d done enough mischief. Fatherhood has changed you, Lokes.”

“Shut up, Stark.”

Watching the two of them carefully, Stjarna put down the wing – it didn’t taste very good, so she was glad enough to release it – and let out a plaintive call. There wasn’t much specific meaning behind it, but she put a lot of feeling into it, making it as pathetic sounding as she could.

It had the effect she’d been hoping for, both men stiffening and then lowering themselves further to the floor and pressing under the bed as well as their large bodies would allow. It forced them close together, and from what she could tell, they hadn’t noticed that little point at all. All of their focus was on her.

“Hey now,” Anthony called softly, using the same kind of voice he had used when he had first spotted her in the outside. “No need for that, fluff, it’s alright.”

Her Person reached out a hand, and even from the distance he was at, she could feel the ticklish tingles reaching out to her, calling her closer to him, but she resisted. “Come on, Stjarna, I’m not angry. Just come on out and we’ll have your favorite foods, yes?”

Stjarna ignored how tempting that sounded, how her own heart reached out at how distressed they both looked because of her, and let out another plaintive meow, even longer than the first.

Still with his eyes fixed on her, Anthony asked, “You don’t think she hurt herself while running away, do you? She doesn’t look hurt…”

“I rather get the impression that it’s less physical than that,” her Person replied, a hint of skepticism in his tone. If he did doubt her sincerity, though, it wasn’t enough to completely erase the lines of worry around his mouth.

Anthony turned his head just a little to look at her Person. “You mean she’s looking for attention?”

“Or something similar,” he agreed. He turned as well to look at Anthony. “Young creatures are much the same, no matter… the species…”

Her Person trailed off, and the mood beneath the bed shifted as they both seemed to realize all of a sudden that they were close together, pressing together in some places, and when looking at one another their faces were very close. If they’d had proper whiskers, they would have been tangling.

Stjarna gave another meow, quieter than before but still enough to recall their attention. If they backed away from one another now then her whole plan would be ruined.

It worked, and they turned back to her, both looking a touch flustered.

“Right,” Anthony said. “A baby is a baby, even if it’s got fur. Well, let’s get this little one out and we can spoil her rotten with string and mice.”

“Yes,” her Person agreed, all too willing to let the moment be brushed off.

Stjarna twitched her tail, pleased. She gave another meow, louder again and drawn out, and shifted around, as though she were hurt, but without attempting to make any part of her appear injured. The hope was that even if they knew she wasn’t hurt, they would behave as though she were, without thinking much about where they were in relation to each other.

It seemed to work, the both of them shoving their bodies beneath the bed, further and further, despite how narrow the space was for their large bodies. Their going was slow but inexorable, and they were moving in tandem, each shifting in a way which would make it hard for her to escape to a side and get away. They were working together and blocking as many exits with their bodies as possible.

Stjarna lashed her tail, waiting for her moment.

“She’s getting ready to run again, do you see that?”

Her Person sighed, “Yes, I do, thank you.”

“Think we should make a grab for her at the same time, swoop in from the sides?”

She watched as her Person rolled his eyes. He might not know how well she understood their talk, but he knew she understood some, and it was obvious he wanted to tell Anthony to not plan in front of her. She felt a little sorry for him, but was mostly amused. She wondered if he would ever tell Anthony that she knew what he was saying – and hoped he wouldn’t.

“On your count, then,” was all he said for now, going along with Anthony’s ignorance.

“Alright, then. One… two…”

Stjarna readied herself, doing her best to look as though her chosen route of escape would be to the right, over her Person’s outreached arm and out. She didn’t bother to pick up the wing again, just tensed, ready…

“Three!”

Anthony and her Person brought their arms around and together, aiming to trap and clasp her between them. Using every bit of speed she could muster from standing still, Stjarna shot forward, the reaching hands coming together with a smack, and kept going, going neither left nor right, but streaking between the two Persons.

As soon as she was clear of the bed and long limbs, Stjarna turned around. While they had been aiming to keep her from sneaking around them to either side, they’d left a long empty space between them – probably also to keep from being quite so close under the bed anymore. But in trying to follow her as she ran down the path between them…

Anthony and her Person stared at one another, faces practically touching, the hands which had tried to capture her only having caught one another.

They appeared frozen, their breathing gone strained and strange, eyes locked together. The tension she’d noticed from before was back stronger than ever, and it seemed as though something had to break before too long…

“Anthony…”

Anthony took a sharp, shaky breath at the name, eyes going a little wide. Whenever her Person spoke to Anthony, he always called him ‘Stark,’ no matter what he called him in private.

Anthony didn’t reply, but he moved, ever so slightly. It wasn’t that he moved closer, but he shifted so he appeared more… open. They seemed closer, somehow.

Her Person stared at him, his eyes tracing over Anthony’s face for what felt like eternity, and then—

They came together, faces touching in a gentle way. As Stjarna watched, their bodies slowly went slack as they touched longer and longer.

When they finally pulled a little apart from one another, they continued to stare at one another, as though they didn’t know one another, or couldn’t believe who it was they were looking at. Stjarna was beginning to worry something had gone wrong, when JARVIS’ voice came from the ceiling, very quietly.

“Well done, Stjarna.”

She perked up, trilling back at the voice and lashing her tail, proud of her self.

Now there wasn’t a single thing in her new life she would change.