There was a kitten on the countertop.

Wait, what?

He looked again. No, that was right. In the center of the island in the communal kitchen, sitting primly on its dainty paws, was a kitten. It was black and gray and its fur looked soft and clean, although a little wet around the edges. Its green eyes were bright and sharp, not flitting around to take in its surroundings but focused and intense.

It was staring at him, sending a slight tremor down his spine.

See, he wasn't exactly afraid of cats, per se, but they had sharp claws and their teeth were like needles and they always seemed to have extremely bad tempers. And they were gross too. Hacking up hairballs, peeing on everything, leaving dead animals laying around, bits of feathers and blood stuck to their fur. Disgusting. So yeah. Cats. Not on his list of favorite animals.

And here was one, in the flesh, on his countertop. Where food goes. It didn't really matter that the thing looked freshly bathed, especially if the wet fur and damp towel by the sink was anything to go by. It was an animal and it should not be in his kitchen. Shouldn't even be inside at all, really. The thing had no right to be here and he would get rid of it, he had to.

He wasn't going to touch it, however, no way. Not a chance. He wasn't getting anywhere near those claws. So he couldn't just carry it down the elevator. He wasn't cruel enough to just pitch it off the balcony either. He may hate the things, but he wasn't mean. Regardless, he wasn't going to touch. Maybe he could scoop it into something? Push it off the countertop and into an empty box? If it was hungry he could coax it down and out of the apartment. But what the hell did kittens even eat? Milk? Dead birds? The blood of innocent children? Hell if he knew. Or he could call animal control, they could take care of it. It would take them awhile to get here though, even for him. The thing could wander off before then. Or decide it really wanted to gnaw a chunk out of his face instead of just stare at him.

He felt his brow furrow in frustration, wracking his not inconsiderable intellect for any ideas as to how to rid his home of the animal gracing his kitchen. Coming up empty and with little else to do, he found himself glaring viscously at the foul creature, willing it to leave with nothing more then the force of his ire. "You're not supposed to be here. Go away."

The cat just continued staring at him.

"Hey, you! Get out! Get out of my kitchen you vile demon!"

The shouting seemed even less effective, leading to the kitten merely lifting one tiny paw to lick the pads of its toes, seemingly unconcerned.

He wondered if it was trying to distract him, attempting to appear harmless but he could see the manipulation for what it was. A cunning ruse to cover up its bestial, violent ways in a display of cuteness. He would be damned if he fell for its tactics.

"I tell you what. You seem like a rather smart... thing. You leave now, no fuss no muss, and I'll cut you a deal. Your very own cardboard box down in the lobby and all the food you could ever want. I won't even get mad if you attack everyone's ankles on their way in. Especially Fury's, you can tear up the hems of every pair of pants he owns for all I care. So, what d'you think, we golden?

The cat had finished its cleaning and looked up at him, letting out a soft mewl.

"You are a clever one, you've made that clear. But nothing you do will ever convince me that you are not a savage monster." He felt his resolve wavering as he looked down at the small creature, it's eyelids drifting closed. "I don't care how cute you act, or innocent you seem..."

The kitten's mouth gaped on a quiet yawn and its eyes blinked slowly.

"...no matter how soft your fur looks... No! You're a tiny little fiend just waiting for me to drop my guard so you can scratch out my eyes and sleep in my bed. I won't fall for it! Not gonna happen!"

The small creature had curled up on itself, lying in a circle, it's tail wrapped around its head and its face tucked into its haunches. It was not adorable. Not at all.

"You- You're not cute. You think you are, but you're not. Not at all..." He took a cautious step forward, intending to prod the thing to be sure it was a sleep, not to stroke a finger across it's back, of course not. And the sound that came out of his mouth when the cat arched its back slightly and purred was not a coo, he would vehemently oppose anyone who said otherwise. And if he picked the thing up and cradled it in the crook of his elbow, it was only because he wanted to get it out of his home while it was unconscious. It was vulnerable in its exhausted state so now was the time to dispose of it. It had nothing to do with wanting to find out if it was as soft and warm as it looked, nothing at all.

He stood in the kitchen, gazing at the thing with affectionate distrustful eyes, waiting for it to wake and lash out with bloodthirsty intent, but it just slumbered on, soft vibrations in its chest as it purred. Or maybe snored. He didn't notice the large blonde man enter the room until a voice startled him.

"Oh, hey Tony!"

"Wha- Steve?"

The big man stopped in front of him, glancing down at the lump of fur curled in his arm. "Oh, you found the kitten, you weren't supposed to know about that." Steve rubbed a hand over the side of his neck, looking sheepish. "Sorry, I found her out in an alley. I was gonna take her over to an animal shelter, but I wanted to get her cleaned up first, maybe feed her too. I meant to get her out out of here before you left your lab, but she didn't really like the water though so I had to go change my shirt after she soaked it. Here, I can take her."

The hulking man reached out and took the tiny creature, tucking it into his arm much like Tony had just done, dwarfing the kitten even more and somehow making it look even more adorable weak. The sight distracted him long enough that he didn't protest as the creature was taken away.

"Well, I'm gonna get going," Steve was saying over his shoulder. "I'm sorry again about this."

Still in shock, he just stood there staring as his friend headed toward the elevator for a few more moments before his brain finally kicked in and he started forward with a shout. "Ah, wait Steve!"

But it was too late. The doors closed right before he spoke, although Steve seemed too distracted by the cat to have heard him anyway.

His stomach felt all twisty with a sensation that he knew was disappointment as much as he wished he could deny it.

Had he actually gotten... attached?... to that thing?

No, that couldn't be it. The urge to run after Steve and steal that cat away from him was just because he wanted to ensure himself that it was disposed of properly. There also had to be a logical reason as to why he wished he had taken the thing away immediately, run out to the store and bought food and water bowls, cat food, litter, a little collar with a bell on it, or, hell, he could've gone down to the lab and made a custom collar, in bright red with a mini locator so the thing would never get lost, and maybe even bring it down into the lab so it could play with You and Dummy and he could-

He derailed that train of thought instantly, realizing suddenly how gone he was. He wanted the thing. Maybe it was because he had never had a pet. Maybe because this one didn't seem so violent and malicious like every other feline he had ever come across. Maybe because it was an evil mastermind that had tricked him with its poisonous breath. Maybe it really just was that cute. Whatever the reason, he was won over. Persuaded. Convinced. And he couldn't talk himself out of it anymore.

"Damn."