This was written for the Secret Santa on the forum, and officially belongs to tabeadb. Just a little somthing that can be described as "as fluffy as a blow-dried, long haired cat" and that can be read as shippy, but is written as friendshippy.
Emil Västeström sat on the bed, doing paperwork in the fading light of the evening sun. Soon, he would have to turn on a lamp if he wanted to continue. He had to admit that though winter was good for killing things, the short days could get annoying even this far south. The fact that he had to spend the daylight doing paperwork did nothing to help with his annoyance. Sure, under Sigrun's captaincy there was not as much paperwork as there could have been, but still, papers, forms to be filled, writing, not all of it was even in Swedish, and nothing was on fire. Not that he would ever start a fire indoors. Of course not. Who ever said he would?
That one time was an accident. Promise.
He yawned and pulled a hand through his hair. The light was getting seriously low now. At least he was almost half-way done. Fixing his hair up properly again, he put aside the last bunch of papers and got up to fetch a lamp.
The door stood open for once, and an enticing smell pulled him outside. There, the rest of the expedition sat gathered in a comfortable silence around a big pot of stew. It smelled wonderful and Emil suddenly realized how hungry he was. Not a person said a word as Mikkel handed him a bowl of dinner. From the medic, this was to be expected, but this evening, even Tuurid and Sigrun were quiet. It was simply a nice, calm night, following a nice, calm day. They had mostly been driving on overgrown roads since morning, meeting neither beast nor troll, and they all felt safer than they had for a long time. Adding to that, the sunset was beautiful.
The sky looked like it was on fire. Emil thought he would have liked it either way, but he saw it as a plus. The red and the yellow of the sky nicely matched the pink and golden-banded clouds, and the entire scenery was tinted orange. He stood and watched with the others for a while before the chill of the winter wind forced him back inside.
He picked up the lamp and went back to the bedroom to finish his work. Settling down on the bed again, he relaxed and smiled, slightly. It might not be so bad. Being allowed to be annoyed by paperwork, and not constantly worrying over everyone who were out of his sight at any time. The stew was good too, and food does wonders for a man's patience.
Half through the second page, he was startled out of his concentration by a sound. It sounded a little like a choked whimper, a little like a pained meow. Looking up, or down, as it were, he could see the corner of Lalli's blanket had started to move. The scout had been out the previous night, and had slept through most of the calm day in his usual spot below one of the beds. Now, it looked like he was having some kind of nightmare, the way he was moving and making tiny sounds in his sleep.
Emil immediately wanted to calm the boy down somehow. He knew they were technically the same age, and that he was actually the younger one by a few months, but Lalli was just so small. Emil felt like he had to protect him. After all, he was the big cleanser with the flamethrower, and Lalli was… a kitten. He was a kitten. A small cat, perfectly capable of taking care of himself, but Emil wanted to protect him, especially when he got like this.
He had almost stood up to walk over when he saw that it was unnecessary. Lalli had woken himself up, and now his head peeked out from underneath the bed. Their eyes met for a few long moments before Emil gave a reassuring smile and went back to his paperwork. It had taken him a while to figure Lalli out, but he was pretty sure he understood him now. The guy was so much like a cat. You needed to let him approach you, not the other way around. Let him know you are willing to give him a scratch behind the ear if he wants it, and do not intrude on his personal space.
So Emil looked down at his papers, ate a bit of stew and made sure to have plenty of open space beside him on the bed. Not long after, the big cat had curled up beside him with his head in his lap, and Emil could casually drop a hand down to stroke at his hair. Lalli was not reacting badly to the hair-stroking, so that was good, but he was also shivering just a little, which meant this had been a really bad dream.
Emil put his papers aside for later, focusing on the feline with its face pressed into his leg. He started talking, telling Lalli about all the things he had missed while sleeping. He spoke low enough that making his words out would be difficult, but Lalli was unable to understand the Swedish boy anyway, so the words flowed together to form a calming sort of background hum. Within minutes, he had stopped shivering and was heading right back to sleep.
When the rest of the group finally decided to come back inside for the night, long after the last lick of red had left the horizon, they found Emil finishing up the last page of paperwork with a content smile on his face, still speaking at low volume about nothing and nonsense, and still with one hand absentmindedly combing Lalli's hair to perfection.
