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"Come on in, we don't bite!", Brigitte said, chuckling kindly.
Spending the Christmas days with the Lindholm family had been an interesting idea at the time, plus free food, but now Hammond was not so sure anymore. Without Wrecking Ball, he felt naked and exposed, and his nose picked up the scent of multiple cats through the open door.
He said as much, and Wrecking Ball's voice chip strapped to his harness translated. "The hamster detects feline presence."
"You're as big as them!", the young woman exclaimed, humour still dancing in her eyes.
Then, his nose was tickled by another, much better smell: Intertwining wafts of delicious foods. He couldn't help the little wiggle of his snout.
Brigitte added: "I am sure you can handle yourself just well. Don't tell me you fought off a bunch of bad guys, and are afraid of some kitties now!"
The praise and the goading worked, plus the smells really were delicious.
And Hammond had faced far worse than a couple of flimsy cats, that was true.
So, with a grumbling squeak, he entered the house.
"Please, one more story, uncle Reinhardt!", one of the many children begged, but Ingrid shook her head with a smile when the giant looked at her.
"I am sorry, my dear, but it is past your bedtime already!", he laughed, loud voice booming in the cozy living room.
Hammond was nestled in front of the fire place between three large napping Maine Coon cats, who had immediately been fond of him, playing chase and trying to lick him to scent mark him as their own. It had been disturbing, and he had first tried to get away, but somehow it had also been endearing, and finally he had let them scrub him clean from his journey. A free shower was nothing to frown about, after all, and their raspy tongues had massaged him very nicely.
Between the chase and the shower, there had been amazing food, all kinds of cooked vegetables, but the corn and the potatoes had been the best. Hammond didn't know when he had been so full last time. The children had gotten their presents afterwards, a noisy matter which had Hammond and his new feline friends retreat to where they were now.
As he listened to the family bicker among themselves now, he almost dozed off.
They had listened to Hammond's adventures, especially the kids, with big eyes, and had tried to pet him many times. He didn't like the petting, and had only reluctantly let them do so a couple of times, never planning to admit that a few scratches behind the ears could be kind of nice.
He, Reinhardt and Brigitte had to tell the story several times of how they had met, in a dark alley, the knight and his squire fending off too many thugs at once, and Hammond liking the way they fought so bravely, rolling through the alley with Wrecking Ball, squishing the enemies like bugs, thus saving the two.
Torbjörn had shown great interest in Wrecking Ball, and Hammond had been rather proud, showing him a couple of tricks in the workshop, where his companion was parked right now.
The workshop - Hammond sighed inwardly. So many tools, so many parts, so many trinkets. Torbjörn and him could have spent ages in there, talking about all kinds of problems and their solutions.
But right now, he was sated, and warm, and happy in the ball of fur.
Up until the fur moved, stretching, yawning.
"Where are you going?", Hammond asked, without having Wrecking Ball translate.
Ginger, the youngest of the bunch, and indeed a ginger cat, purred at him. "Hunt."
They weren't as smart as him, but they could talk alright.
"Join us?", Ophelia asked. She was a dark grey, and the leader of the pack.
Hammond considered, but that night, he was too tired and full. "Another time", he squeaked, and reluctantly let them all nuzzle him on their way out. "Good hunt."
He watched them leave, and then how the kids were being ushered to bed.
He felt a little lost alone in front of the fire place, so he waddled over to Reinhardt, who was still sitting in the large chair he had told his stories in.
"Ah, little friend!", he exclaimed, and Hammond narrowed his eyes at him.
"The hamster is displeased", Wrecking Ball commented.
Reinhardt just laughed. "Well, for a hamster, you're quite large, that is true." He winked at him, and it was hard to be mad at the giant.
That was when Brigitte walked around the corner, smiling when her gaze fell on Hammond. He liked her; she was smart and kind, and didn't comment too much on how cute he apparently was.
"Do you want to sleep in front of the fire place?", she asked him, "I can fetch one of the many cat beds, if you would like!"
Hammond shook his head. "He sleeps in the ball", the chip said.
"Oh", Brigitte replied, crouching down. "But isn't it too cold in the workshop? It's outside!"
"The ball is thermostatically customizable."
Brigitte chuckled. "Of course he is. He was built by a stellar engineer, after all!"
Did Hammond mention he liked Brigitte?
"Compliment accepted", Wrecking Ball translated, a little awkwardly.
The woman grinned. "Great! Let's get you settled then."
They both walked out to the garage that was the Lindholm workshop. Entering it, Hammond's eyes went round yet again at all the marvels this space held. He would sleep soundly, rolling up in his ball, knowing that he was surrounded by an engineer's dream.
"You know", Brigitte suddenly said, foot scraping on the floor, "I talked to Papa, and we agreed that you can use all our tools to upgrade or repair Wrecking Ball as you please. Also, should you need any parts, just ask away, I'm sure we have something or can find a work-around together!"
Hammond just stared at her, eyes even bigger, heart suddenly feeling very full. It was the kindest thing anyone had ever said to him.
There was a small silence, and then Wrecking Ball translated: "The hamster is overjoyed."