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1
“I’m just saying, characters who say ‘there is no universe I don’t love you’ obviously don’t understand the concept of the multiverse! That’s its whole thing! That there are infinite universes. There’s infinite universes where I don’t love you. There’s infinite universes where we don’t even meet! There’s at least one universe where we are mortal enemies.”
Penelope and Emily lie on their living room carpet, staring at the ceiling. Sergio sits on Penelope’s stomach, kneading into her bright purple sweater. Emily is slowly making her way through a bag of Sour Patch Kids.
“Mortal enemies?” Emily repeats with a raised brow. “Are we superheroes in this universe?”
“In one of them, yeah! I mean, in one of them, I’m the CEO of an oil mogul and you’re the descendant of Mother Earth and we have a full enemies to lovers slowburn where you teach me the magic of loving the planet and combating climate change.”
“Oh really? But we still end up together in the end of that one.”
“No we don’t,” Penelope says. “You return to your rightful throne in the Caelum — that’s where Mother Earth is — and I get hardened by your abandonment and my company ends up producing record amounts of carbon, deteriorating the ozone layer beyond repair.”
“What do I do about it? Up in the Caelum?” Emily asks, popping a Sour Patch Kid into her mouth.
“Well now you have a grudge against me and the humans, so you rain down natural disasters to Earth with your Earthly powers.”
“Harsh.”
Penelope nods. “Yeah. And then Earth has a natural apocalypse and they get a restart on humanity and enter the new era of humanity.”
“Nice.” She chews slowly on a handful of her sour snack. “What about one where I’m the bad guy?”
“This is the superhero one. You have a hoard of killer robots and drones. I’m still the tech wiz with technokinesis and we have a feud.”
“How serious is this feud?” Emily asks.
“Pretty serious.” Penelope shakes her head. “Anyways, the problem with people saying these big broad statements about the multiverse is that they’re completely contradictory. The concept of the multiverse is that it cannot be confined. If you said ‘there is no universe I’ve been to where I don’t love you,’ then that’s an accurate statement. That’s statistics based on sample size. You can’t realistically make deductions on a full population because it’s physically impossible to get the data! You can’t retrieve data from something that spans infinitely.”
“So right,” Emily says.
Sergio purrs loudly, doing a little wiggle. Penelope pets him lightly and coos softly.
“Sergio needs a friend,” Penelope says.
“You’re his friend,” Emily says flatly, popping another gummy into her mouth.
“No! A kitty friend! He deserves to have a buddy to hang out with while we’re at work.”
“We don’t need another cat.”
“Look at him!” Penelope wails. “He’s so lonely. Don’t you hear him?” Penelope deepens her voice. “Mother. I am suffering from no-kitty-friend-itis! I need a kitty friend to keep me company when my mommys aren’t here to spoil me!”
“We are not getting another cat.”
Penelope pouts. “Fine.” She squeezes Sergio’s butt. “Don’t worry, Sergie, I’m not trying to replace you. I just want to make you less of a hermit.”
“He is fine with being a hermit.”
“I’m sure he’d love the outside world!”
“You’ve tried to show him the outside world with his kitty harness, remember?”
Penelope frowns. “It was damp. That’s why he didn’t like it.”
“Sure, darling. That’s why.”
“It was!”
2
Penelope has been typing rapidly at her computer for what Emily can only describe as a grueling three hours.
Emily doesn’t mind the Penelope-less hours, satisfied with taking a spot on the opposite side of the couch and reading her book of the day.
However, she will not stand for Penelope working until she burns her brain out to goo.
After a quick trip to the kitchen, Emily plops down next to Penelope and pokes her in the cheek.
“Hn,” Penelope drones, still fully immersed in her project.
“I brought you the yummy strawberry stuff.”
Penelope’s brows furrow slightly.
Yes! She’s coming back to reality.
“I mixed the strawberry cream cheese and marshmallow fluff just how you like it and I cut the tops off of the strawberries.”
She makes a quick glance to the plate.
“And don’t worry. I ate the red off the tops. Nothing went to waste.”
Penelope looks between the plate and her computer, distressed, clearly contemplating her next move.
“Just have a quick snack and you can get back to it,” Emily says.
Penelope looks at the computer again.
Oh, no you don’t.
Emily picks up Sergio — who meows with vehement disdain — and places him on top of her keyboard.
Penelope stares at the cat who blocks her view of her computer.
“Just have a snack. You need a brain break.”
Penelope frowns and finally sighs in defeat. “A quick snack.”
“A quick snack and at least five minutes of kisses.”
Penelope perks up. “That can be arranged.”
Emily laughs. “The art of compromise strikes again.”
“More like the art of manipulation and using my need for kisses against me.”
Emily raises an eyebrow. “Do you not want them?”
“I didn’t say that! I rescind my previous statement and replace it with a statement of positive confirmation.”
Emily grins.
Sergio purrs loudly and kneads his paws on Penelope’s laptop, filling her document with a stream of keyboard smash.
Penelope squawks and pulls him off, quickly backspacing his additions. “See, if Sergio had a kitty friend, he wouldn’t be on hand to sabotage my work.”
“Or there would be two kitties to sabotage it.”
Penelope’s brows scrunch, pouting unhappily. “Fine. You win this one.”
Emily feeds her a strawberry and the wrinkle in her face disappear. She moans in delight. “God, that’s good.”
Emily takes a bite from the strawberry and then leans in for a gentle kiss.
Penelope smiles, the sweet taste of strawberry still on their lips.
3
“Penelope!”
Penelope freezes mid-ear-scritch. “Uh oh.”
“Penelope!”
“I’m in big trouble, Sergie,” she murmurs, pulling him from her lap and placing him softly on the couch. “Coming, honey!”
“Oh don’t you honey me!”
“Uh oh,” Penelope repeats.
When she enters the kitchen, Emily is glaring daggers at her with her arms crossed over her chest.
“Uh… hi,” Penelope says warily.
“Pen,” Emily says. “Remember the last time we had soup and I told you something very important?”
Penelope wracks her brain. “Uh…”
“That you have to rinse your bowl or else the dish-washer — who, hm, who could that be — has to scrub unreasonably hard to get it clean.”
Penelope’s face falls. “Oops.”
“And do you remember what I said you’d have to do if you did it again?”
“I’d have to wash it myself,” Penelope mumbles, eyes glued to the floor.
“Uh huh. Yup. That’s right.” Emily sighs and shakes her head. She places a hand on Penelope’s cheek. “You know I’m not mad at you, right, my love?”
Penelope leans into the touch. “Uh huh.”
“I love you,” Emily says softly. “I just don’t wanna to scrub all night. Especially when I wanna use these hands for something else.”
Penelope’s breath hitches.
“Now, c’mon. Scrubbin’ time.”
Penelope heads to the sink and cleans the soup bowl with record time. “You wash, I dry?”
Emily grins. “That’d be great. You know how much I hate drying.”
“Oh, I know.”
Emily snorts. “Smartass.” She presses her palm to Penelope’s forehead. “Get the good towel. The pretty towels—”
“Leave little fuzzies, I know.”
The two fall into a comfortable silence, the soft instrumental music playing from Emily’s phone on the counter.
Emily starts to hum quietly, swaying slightly as she finishes up her last pan.
She places the pan on the towel in front of Penelope and wraps her arms around her from behind, swaying with her in her hold.
Emily peppers kisses on Penelope’s shoulder, humming by her ear. Emily spins her around and loops her arms around Penelope’s shoulders, resting her head against her chest.
They sway to their intimate little dance, hands still a little damp from the sudsy water.
Suddenly, there’s four little claws scrambling up the back of Penelope’s dress and a fuzzy lump settling on her shoulders, chewing at her hair.
“Sergie!” Penelope exclaims.
Emily laughs, muffling the sound in Penelope’s sweater.
“He’s a little menace. Ruining a wonderful, romantic moment,” Penelope whines.
“He just wants to be part of the fun,” Emily replies.
“He needs his own dance partner. Perhaps, a little kitty friend—”
“No.”
“But then he’ll have someone to dance with!”
“Cats don’t dance.”
“Some cats do! I saw this one cat on America’s Got Talent that had this super amazing act where—”
4
“Emily! Look out! It’s right behind you!”
Penelope envelopes Emily in an embrace. “It’s the cuddle monster!”
Emily laughs, grabbing Penelope’s arms and pulling her closer. She turns around and nuzzles her face into the crook of Penelope’s neck.
Penelope smacks a kiss to Emily’s hair, swinging her back and forth as she squeezes her in a tight hug.
Emily melts into Penelope’s touch, her body going loose and limp in her hold.
Penelope squeaks. “Oop! Don’t do that. I don’t have nearly enough upper body strength to hold you up.”
Emily walks Penelope back into their bedroom and tosses her to the bed.
“Ooh la la.” Penelope says, waggling her eyebrows. “Are we gonna have some scandalous sexy times?”
Emily laughs. “Maybe.”
“That is not an enthusiastic yes. In this bed, I only accept fervent consent.”
“Maybe later, then.”
Penelope grins. “Whatever works for you, snuggle-bumpkin.” Penelope brushes the hair from Emily’s face. Her voice lowers to a whisper. “May I kiss you?”
Emily smiles. “Yes.”
Penelope presses a featherlight kiss to Emily’s lips, her hand finding its way to her cheek and caressing it gently. Emily’s fingers snake into Penelope’s hair, just mindlessly carding through the locks.
“Oh, if you keep doing that, I’m gonna fall asleep before we even get to anything interesting,” Penelope slurs.
Emily digs her fingers deeper into her scalp, massaging it just the way she likes it.
Penelope’s mouth goes slack. “Holy guacamole that feels good.”
Emily slots her leg between Penelope’s and continues to play with her hair, kissing up her neck and sucking softly at the skin.
“Oh, you are go-oo-od at that,” Penelope breathes.
Emily chuckles against her neck, going to kiss up her jawline.
Now, Penelope is complete Jell-O under her touch. Full on, name brand Jell-O. Not the store brand that has a weird aftertaste of plastic and metal. How does it get that aftertaste?
“You’re thinking loud again,” Emily murmurs.
“Jell-O,” Penelope blurts.
Emily snickers. “Jell-O?”
“Do you ever think about the fact that each generation has their own unique Jell-O related nostalgia?” Penelope asks. “Because like, there’s the Depression era people who have all those crazy Jell-O related desserts like those casseroles encased in Jell-O and then their kids grew up with it as kids in a different form and now the Gen Zs have their own Jell-O related childhood memories. Like, I was talking to this kid — I can’t remember why I was talking to a kid, but you’d be surprised how many kids I talk to — and she was like ‘I’ve never had the fruit Jell-O, I’ve only had the Jell-O pudding’ and, like, that blew my mind.”
“You want Jell-O now, don’t you?”
Penelope stops. “Yes. I do.”
Emily laughs. “I think we might have some buried in the pantry—”
“You know what? I don’t need Jell-O more than I need you.” She pauses. “Wow. That sounded really profound. I didn’t mean for that to be so romantic. I really just stumble onto those things, huh?”
Emily interrupts her with another kiss. She melts into the kiss, eyes fluttering shut as she kisses back.
And then there’s a tiny weight plopping in between them, shaking his fluffy butt in their faces.
Emily sighs. “Or maybe we can get that Jell-O.”
“Sergio needs a cuddle buddy so he doesn’t have to come to us for cuddles.”
Emily raises an eyebrow. “Are you saying you don’t want to give Sergio cuddles?”
Penelope gasps. “I said no such thing!”
“We don’t need another cat,” Emily says.
Penelope pouts.
“C’mon. Let’s get you some Jell-O.”
And then the disappointment disappears, overridden by Jell-O.
5
“In my defense, it said put the pasta in the pot. It said nothing about any water.”
Emily stares at Penelope who stares back with a charred apron in hand and brows slightly burnt, standing in a tomato coated kitchen.
“—and I couldn’t find the lid for the vodka sauce which I guess is really important because somehow the vodka caught on fire and then actually exploded like full on tomato explosion—”
“Pen,” Emily interrupts. “It’s alright.”
“It’s not alright! I was gonna make a super special dinner and now it’s all ruined—”
“After we clean this up, we can still go get a good dinner.”
“It’s not the same. And you know how extortionate Italian restaurants are.”
Emily smiles. “You’re too sweet.”
Penelope huffs. “I just wanted tonight to be special.”
“It still can be,” Emily says.
And it is. They go to a local Mom and Pop Italian restaurant that gives them extra breadsticks and has the best mac and cheese in Northern Virginia (well, according to Penelope anyways.)
Emily gets a fancy pasta dish and forces Penelope to share a side salad with her. They get a little candle in the center of their table and it’s a wonderful night.
As they walk to their car, their hands are intertwined, swinging between them as they bask in the soft breeze and starry sky.
“—so really, though you could argue Captain Hammer is just as much, or even more of, a justified hero than Dr. Horrible, the question is not who is the hero, but who is the villain of the story, and the answer to that is the stinky men who made Penny a one dimensional plot device. And I’m not just saying that because of Penny solidari—” Penelope gasps and freezes. “Emily,” she hisses. “Look!”
Shivering in the alley is a kitty with fur so matted and dirty, she can’t tell what breed it is.
“It’s a garbage cat!” Penelope says. She squats near the alley entrance and starts to make kissie noises. “C’mere little friend. I’m nice. I won’t hurt you.” She goes to her purse and grabs a bag of cat treats. “Look. Yummy yummy.”
The kitty cocks its head curiously.
“Uh huh. Look. Yummy treat.”
The kitty slowly makes its way to Penelope. It sniffs her hand and snatches the treat, running back to the shadows to eat it.
Penelope pouts. “Garbage Cat doesn’t like me.”
“No, look.”
Garbage Cat comes back out and trots over to Penelope, staring at her with big blue eyes.
“Want another treat?” Penelope asks. She pulls out another treat and Garbage Cat takes it, this time not skittering away. Penelope gives it a few more treats before it finally trusts her enough to pet its little head.
“Emily! Please please please.”
Emily sighs. “Pen, we have to take it to someone who can take care of it. Make sure it's healthy and clean and happy.”
Penelope stares helplessly at the kitty who is rubbing its head against her leg.
“I’m sorry, but Garbage Cat needs help we can’t give it.”
Penelope’s lower lip juts out as she pets Garbage Cat gently. “Okay. I want the best for Garbage Cat.”
“C’mon. We can take Garbage Cat to the shelter now.”
+1
It’s Penelope’s birthday and Emily has spoiled her rotten.
With a wonderful homemade dinner, a signed series one through seven limited edition Blu-ray giftset of Doctor Who that comes with art, comics, and a sonic screwdriver all somehow signed by the actors.
When she says that she might have actually squealed so hard that she could’ve broken all the glass in their house, she is not exaggerating.
They’re just finishing the first episode, Penelope mouthing along the words and waving her sonic screwdriver along with it, when Emily pauses the TV.
“I have one more gift,” Emily says.
“No. No no no, you’ve already given me so much. I don’t think I can handle anything more. Can’t you save it for Christmas?”
“I”m afraid I can’t do that, lovebug.” Emily goes to the other room and brings over a box. “Be careful. It’s fragile.” She places it on the coffee table.
Penelope goes to open the box and her breath hitches. “No.”
“Happy Birthday.”
“No! You… really?” She looks up, eyes teary. “Really? I can keep him?”
“Yes you can.”
In the box is Garbage Cat, now clean with fluffy white fur and wearing a sparkly pink collar. He meows quietly.
“Oh little baby boy I love you so much.” Penelope pulls him out of the box and cradles him with adoration. “I love him so much. Thank you thank you thank you.”
“And he’s already familiarized himself with Sergio. So, you don’t have to worry about that.”
Penelope’s eyes go wide. “Do they like each other?”
“See for yourself.”
Sergio is trotting over, head tilted as he stares at Garbage Cat. He hops onto Penelope’s lap and begins to lick at Garbage Cat’s ears.
“Awww!” Penelope cooes. “This is officially the most amazingest, perfectest, awesomest birthday I’ve ever had.” Penelope turns to Emily, eyes shimmering with happy tears. “I love you.”
Emily kisses her on the temple and pets both of their kitties. “I love you too.”