imablackwidowbaby: (neutral in civvies)
Before Natasha could even get her key in the lock, there was a half-grown black kitten winding around her ankles. "I'm still not giving you a name," she told it. The cat ignored her, of course. She'd debriefed on the Helicarrier, showered and changed into civilian clothes, even let the doctors take a look at her before she returned from her mission, so she looked perfectly respectable, if exhausted.

When she finally got the door open, she threw her bag onto her bed, ignoring the way it clanked. She'd deal with it later. Then she headed straight for the kitchen. Food. She needed food, and possibly coffee.

...and, fine, to feed the cat. Since it was here and all.

((Due to RL factors and space cadetery on my part, Natasha has not been around for a while. I'm declaring that she's been off-island on SHIELD business, but she's back now! Mostly meant as establishy, but open to anyone at 25 Unicorn or who wants to drop by!))
imablackwidowbaby: (now I'm pissed)
"You're not even supposed to be here any more," Natasha informed the small black kitten that kept winding around her feet and trying to trip her up while she fixed her coffee. The kitten just responded by mewing and trying to climb her pants leg. Natasha sighed and bent over to detach the kitten, then held it in front of her face, looked into its eyes, and told it, "No."

"Mew?"

She sighed. Fine. She'd buy some cat food. But only because she didn't want it to starve. It definitely wasn't because she was keeping it.

((Open to anyone with reason to be at/drop by 25 Unicorn!))

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imablackwidowbaby

January 2013

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