The bit about cats and milk is true, btw.

-OOO-

They walked to an adjacent store complex. Blake skipped, when Weiss wasn't looking, trying out her shoes. Wearing things on your feet was weird, but the sneakers fit well. She could walk on sharp and/or hot surfaces and not hurt her feet.

They passed a wooden booth ran by an outgoing child and a sullen adult. The booth had words on it; 'organic', 'home-made', 'proceeds help me get to the Olympics', etc.

Weiss turned to Blake, and Blake put her arms down and slumped her shoulders. Weiss put an arm around Blake's neck and pointed to the booth.

"Oooh look! Look at it, Blake! Milk!"

Weiss brought Blake to the wooden booth and slammed some lien down in front of the child. Weiss was handed a small bottle of milk. Weiss shook the milk.

"It's just like the milk jug on your pajam-jams, Blake!" Weiss said, gesturing to the milk.

That wasn't strictly true. Both bottles were the same shape, but this jug had a cartoon cow's face on it.

Weiss then gasped. Her face fell and she brought her hands to her mouth. "Oh no! I haven't been feeding you milk, Blake! You must be so sad, and you probably have all these vitamin D deficiencies. Here, I'll fix that right now."

Weiss walked up to Blake and put an arm behind Blake's waist.

Weiss stepped forward and somehow Blake's upper half fell back, held in Weiss's arm in half a dance move. Weiss bent her arm so that her hand was under Blake's head while she supported Blake's torso with her elbow.

Weiss popped the lid off the milk jug with her free thumb. "Open wide, Blake." Weiss said.

"Ah-" interjected the cook, "I thought the 'cats like milk' thing was a misconception, and cats are actually allergic to milk?"

"Oh no!" Weiss said, "Is that true, Blake?"

"only cow milk."

"Ohhh nooooooo!" Weiss tossed the jug of milk behind her. Blake heard the bottle shatter. "Then we need to get other types of milk! Like goat's milk or ostritch milk."

"Or you could just wait until you hit puberty," said the tall maid.

"Or maybe almond milk? I think they make that now too." Weiss pondered.

"There's also rice and soy milk," offered the cook.

"C'mon, Blake! Into the food market!" Weiss pulled Blake upright and pointed in the general direction of food. "We can also get you your favorite foods too, if you want? Does that sound fun, Blakey?"

Blake's stomach growled, but outwardly she just shrugged and tried to look nonchalant.

They arrived at the food market. There was a whole open area, an agora with booths full of small, independent farming businesses selling their produce. There were non-GMO, organic, free-range, grain-fed, cruelty-free chickens, calves, soaps, faunus slaves (maybe not that one), pigs and crickets, and hand-made recycled biodegradable bowls, spoons, knives, bracelets, home computers and dream-catchers.

Blake took a step and was immediately pulled back by Weiss.

"No Blake, not there!" Weiss pulled on Blake's shoulders. "We shop at the soulless conglomerate!"

Weiss pointed at a concrete monolith, inset with neon block letters and the dusty hum of refrigeration. "They sell everything in there."

Weiss led Blake into the supermarket. It was fancy. Soft classical music could be heard once they stepped past the sliding glass doors. The air-conditioning blew the scent of refrigeration outtake and fresh bread and globalization into their faces as they grabbed a cart. The tiles and walls were painted with food patterns appropriate to each aisle.

Weiss picked Blake up and deposited her in the front right corner of a shopping cart. It took a little while and Blake flopped her limbs to make it harder for Weiss. Weiss had to push up on her back and manipulate her arms and legs individually to set Blake into the cart.

The cook nervously chuckled at a nearby interracial couple who were staring at them.

Weiss then ran to the back of the cart and pushed it with both hands, grunting occasionally.

Blake righted herself in the cart. They moved past the vegetable isle; some water spraying machines turned on to mist over the vegetables. Blake narrowed her eyes at the machines, but they didn't notice.

At the far end of the market was the butcher shop. There was the scent of delicious fresh meat. Tantalizing, mouth-wateringly delicious meats. Blake leaned out over the edge of the cart and caught herself drooling. Blake wiped her mouth.

Then they passed the fish portion.

Blake's arm darted out to grab a plastic-wrapped cut of swordfish from a refrigerated shelf.

Then she grabbed a trout. And then a rainbow fish. And then a perch and a freshwater salmon and some dolphin, and a mackerel and a cod and some catfish.

And waaaaay too many different types of tuna. Not literally, though; Blake could handle them all, she just meant there were more varieties of tuna than she'd thought had existed. She pulled trays and trays of fishies into the cart as Weiss pushed it along the isle.

Blake closed her eyes and let her mouth curl into a smile as she scooped an armful of fishies and rubbed them across her torso. She sighed in contentment.

The cook gave another nervous chuckle. Blake cracked an eye and saw another interracial couple staring at them.

"Wow Blake, you want all those?" Weiss said. She smiled.

Blake scrunched her mouth and looked to the side.

Weiss also got a jug of goat milk, a jug of soy milk, a jug of rice milk, a jug of almond milk, and an explanation of why ostriches don't produce milk.

They went to the checkout and Blake, from her perch in the shopping cart, handed the grocer each fishy, one by one, gently brushing her hand along each cut of meat as she passed them along. Blake also, less enthusiastically, handed the milk jugs and spices.

"And one faunus girl will be 18.99 lien," said the cashier.

Blake nodded. "bargain."

"And we do sell all the garnish you'll need to cook her."

"We got those," said the gaunt maid. The maid hauled up a handbasket of cooking oils and flavor additives.

"Garlic butter roasts to bring out the hearty flavor. A side of fava beans, and some nice Chianti."

"Wait," said the cashier, gesturing to the wine and to Weiss, "Are you buying that for a minor?"

"uhhh," said the gaunt maid, "No~."

"Ok, cool. Underage drinking is a terrible practice," the cashier tapped an electronic display of the total price, "Everything looks to be in order, then. Enjoy your meal!"

"Nooo~" Weiss ran up to the shopping cart and tried to hug Blake's head over the side of the cart. "I'm not going to eat Blake!"

"Really?" said the tall maid, "I thought the desire to, aha, eat Blake was the entire reason you got her."

"Nooooo~" Weiss shook Blake's head.

"The cook tells me that Blake attempted to eat you when she was hungry," said the gaunt maid, "So the recourse with the highest chance of long-term survival is to eat her first. With a side of fava beans."

"Nooooooooooo~" Weiss shook Blake's head harder.

"But doesn't she just look," the tall maid grinned evilly and gestured towards Blake, "scrumptious?"

Weiss took a step back. Blake watched Weiss's mouth drop just a bit as the human girl ran her eyes along all of Blake, from her ears to her stomach to her thighs to her feet and back up again. Blake tried not to blush.

Weiss closed her mouth and eyes and balled her fists in front of her and shook her head. "Blake's not for eating." Weiss stated.

"actually, I'm all for eating." Blake smirked, slightly.

"Awww," Weiss rubbed Blake's head. She ran over to the cashier and pulled out a plastic money rectangle. "Blake's hungies, so lets wrap this up."

They returned home. It was the first time in a while Blake could describe herself as 'unable to wait'. Luckily, Weiss was trying to play some hand patting game with her to distract her.

As soon as the limo docked into the garage, Blake jumped out of the automobile and grabbed the cooler out of the trunk. Blake started hauling it in herself, before members of the staff took it from her.

Blake went to the dining room and gave the appearance of sitting patiently at the table. She could peak into the kitchen, but she could also smell and hear the fishies being prepared. Those senses were more refined.

While the fishies cooked, Weiss poured a glass of four different types of milk out for Blake to try. Blake stuck her tongue out at them and crossed her arms.

"No, Blake!" Weiss said. "Blake, milk is a part of a complete dinner! And milk's good for lots of reasons! Don't you want strong bones, Blake?"

Blake scrunched her mouth and then sighed. She sampled each type of milk. Blake decided she liked almond milk the best.

And then thirty minutes after they returned, the first fishy was ready. Blake's mouth had salivated enough that she had to swallow.

The cook lay a plate in front of Blake, the rainbow trout, cooked with what smelled like dill and thyme and lemon. Blake immediately grabbed the cut of fish in both her hands and stuffed it into her mouth. She closed her eyes and let the flavors sink into her tongue and around her mouth. Then she gnawed at it furiously.

Almost before she was finished with the first fishy, the cook put another plate of fishy- the cod, this time, with ginger and nutmeg. Blake washed her mouth out with water.

Blake set down the rainbow trout on a plate that she scotched over to Weiss. Weiss picked at the remains as Blake grabbed the second fishy with both her hands and stuffed it into her mouth.

Two fishies later, Blake found that she couldn't eat anymore. It was a scary thing to discover about herself.

"Are you full, Blake? You shouldn't eat if you're full," Weiss said.

Blake sighed.

But when Weiss pulled Blake's most recent plate towards herself and started eating the leftovers, Blake's hands reflexively followed the food.

"Oh? Did you find your appetite?" Weiss said. She cut another a small square of fishy and stabbed it with the fork. "Open wide, Blakey,"

Blake blinked. She shrugged, and opened her mouth. Weiss put the food into Blake's open mouth, onto Blake's tongue. Blake closed her mouth and chewed her food.

Eventually, Blake was absolutely, completely full. She slid out of her chair and sprawled on the floor and closed her eyes and purred in contentment.

"Yay!" Weiss said. She started scritching Blake's stomach. "I'm so glad you're enjoying yourself, Blakey."

Blake nodded. Perhaps she was.

OMAKE:

"Wait," said the cook, looking over the receipt, "Did we actually pay for Blake at the supermarket?"

"See, this," said the tall maid, "Is precisely why Weiss needs to put 'property of Weiss Schnee' on Blake's collar."