Barry noticed that his kitchen light was on before he finished opening his front door. He ducked his head around and spotted Arthur passed out on his couch with Carter purring loudly on his chest. Barry could not work out how Arthur had ever had the gall to say that cats didn't like him. He crept towards his bedroom.

"You are not quiet," Arthur said gruffly.

"And you and my cat have bonded."

"She's not very smart."

"She's brilliant."

"A smart cat avoids an Atlantean."

"A smart cat knows that the Atlantean that crashes here regularly isn't nearly as scary as he makes himself out to be."

Arthur cocked an eyebrow at him.

"My cat is purring on your chest; that trick no longer works on me."

Arthur's smile was tiny. "I made paella; it's still on the stove."

Barry beamed at him. "You are the best guest ever."

"You can thank me by putting on the TV and finding something decent to watch."

Barry nodded. "I bet there is one of those shows about renovating a house on."

Arthur shrugged.

"I know your secrets, Mr Curry, and one of those if your love of renovation shows. Luckily for you I can keep a secret."

"Luckily for you," Arthur corrected.

"Want a drink?"

"There is a bottle of whisky in the cupboard."

Barry shook his head; of course there was now a bottle of whisky in his cupboard. Just like there was a set of clothing jammed into the very back of his bathroom cabinet. Barry wasn't sure if mentioning it would break whatever unspoken spell of friendship they were under.

That night, Barry ate paella that made him want to speed back in time so he could eat it again while Arthur lay on his couch drinking whisky, petting his cat, and they watched a succession of renovation shows.

-)(-)(-