Work Text:
It was dark in the bowels of the USCSS Nostromo. A few emergency lights glowed, casting just enough shadows to turn the whole area into a dreamscape. To human eyes, this was the sort of place that made you break out in a cold sweat and wish for a flamethrower. To cat eyes, this was just another place to walk through.
Jones the cat trotted in between the numerous pipes and consoles that filled the room. He was unconcerned, although the humans all seemed to be in a panic. They were paying him no attention, not even his favorite female human, so he’d departed their company in search of something better. Some of the toys they had brought for him would still be around somewhere.
A hiss—not the commonplace hiss of a hydraulic or a leaky vent—interrupted Jones’ walk. He paused, ears flattening back against his head. That was not a good sound. He had heard it before, just before one of the stupid humans got killed. It had been like watching another cat kill a mouse. Efficient. But still, Jones did not like the sound at all.
Out from a nook between two large consoles uncoiled a long-limbed creature, as dark and shiny as the metal of the ship. It moved like a cat, much more graceful than the big stupid humans. It crouched in front of Jones, blocking the way forward. Its tail, very long and expressive, swished easily back and forth. Its head was enormous and long, towering above Jones as the creature regarded the cat with its eyeless face. It did not smell right, or even a little familiar. It had teeth like a cat, and claws like a cat. But it was not a cat.
The creature lowered its head, very close to Jones. The cat puffed out his tail and hissed at the creature. Ignoring all of Jones’ warnings to stay away, the creature nosed at Jones’ fur like some curious kitten. Jones sidled away, but the creature followed.
It was very persistent and friendly. It butted its head against Jones’ head and made a sound like a meow of greeting. It was enough to convince Jones that the creature meant Jones no harm. Slowly, Jones’ ears came up again and his fur flattened out. He batted playfully at the creature’s flat snout. It made a squawking chirp and lunged a little at Jones, one enormous clawed hand pushing the cat across the smooth metal floor. Jones tumbled and smacked at the hand, without extending his claws. He pounced at the creature’s tail and the creature nipped lightly at his ears. It really was like playing with a little kitten.
Eventually they tired of play-fighting. Jones rubbed against the creature, purring. It seemed pleased, though it did not purr in response. Jones could forgive it. The humans couldn’t purr, and he still knew when they were happy. The creature tried to mimic Jones’ affectionate gestures, but it was far too large. Still, the effort was good, and it was quite obvious that the creature was trying. Jones pawed at its head, making it come down close to the ground, and the creature complied easily. It lay down, forced onto its side in the narrow aisle. Its tail curled around Jones, a familiar gesture of contentment and friendliness.
Jones licked at its hard carapace, grooming as best he could. The creature rattled its tail, producing clicks and pops that sounded like a parody of a purr. To Jones’ surprise, he rather liked the creature. It was not as bungling and silly as a human, but it was not as experienced and worldly as Jones. If Jones remembered correctly, it was really very young indeed. Not even a day old. Of course it needed a good role model by which to learn correct behavior.
This room was comfortably warm. Jones tucked himself between the creature’s large clawed hands, beside its sleek face. It was not soft. It smelled of acid and blood and other, stranger things. It was not a human. It was not a cat. But it was playful. It was friendly. And Jones was perfectly content to sit beside it for a while and enjoy the company.