Chapter 110: Domestic Catgirls
Musashi was uncharacteristically quiet as she soullessly ate her lukewarm soup. Each spoonful came slowly and mechanically to the big battleship, driven more by muscle memory than any conscious desire to eat. Even the grumpy rumble coming from her bare midsection barely roused the battleship out of her melancholy—although it did earn a few confused/envious glances from a passing destroyer puddle.
Musashi thought she was just having fun, so what if she hadn't actually bedded the mighty black dragon. A little white lie never hurt anyone, right? After all, her entire existance—along with her beloved big sister—was a lie. The super-battleships were built under the cover of literal covers, canvas sheets tied up to hide their half-finished hulls.
And then Goto dragged her into his office with the American Amazon in tow. Musashi wouldn't have minded a stern dressing-down from her Admiral—or even a stern "dressing down"—as long as she was alone. She wasn't shy to admit she loved the towering American like a sister. And watching her get her magnificent American ass chewed out for something that was, essentially, Musashi's fault made the big Japanese battlewagon furious.
She resolved to never again hurt one of her friends like that. She only hoped Jersey meant it when she said there were no hard feelings.
But before the battleship could ponder her future any longer, the mess hall doors exploded open off their hinges and smashed back against pathetically overworked stops. Before the dust had even settled, a very familiar dusky contralto belted out, "HO! HO! HO! MERRY CHRISTMAS, MOTHERFUCKERS!"
Musashi blinked. "It's the twenty-sixth," said the battleship with uncharacteristic calm.
"I'm sorry," thundered Jersey, "I can't hear you over the sound of all these PRESENTS!"
Musashi wheeled around in her chair, mouth open to snap back a cutting retort at the American's infuriating tendency to answer anything and everything with some variation of that phrase. But her voice died in her throat, and several signalmen fell at their posts from excessive nose-bleeds when the big battleship realized what Jersey was wearing.
A fur-trimmed red microskirt that could've passed for one of Nagato's hung off the Amazonian American's broad hips, kept decent only by frantic work by Jersey's usual skintight undershorts. A knotted red shirt strained over breasts suddenly uncompressed by her usual sports bra, and the battleship's chiseled belly was on full display. Her hair was even braided though with sprigs of mistletoe and holly, and a titanic bag that was far to heavy for any mere human to lift was slung over one muscled shoulder.
She even had a pair of little bells and an even litter wreath hanging off the knot struggling to keep her overstuffed top together.
"Sorry," one of the two American submarines that kept popping up everywhere ducked around one of Jersey's hypnotic hips. "It was the best we could do on short notice."
"Yeah," another sub popped up from being Jersey's other, equally entrancing hip. "She's kinda large."
"Fuck both of you," Jersey shook her hips first one way then the other, giving each little submarine a gentle bump right in the face. Musashi had never been so jealous of a submarine before. "I look fucking hawt!"
Musashi didn't dare respond. Even if she could coax a sound of out her voice box, she was certain it'd just be drool-filled gibbering.
"Now," Jersey scowled and tugged at her straining top, somehow managing to avoid flashing anyone in the room—although Musashi had seen less daring outfits when she looked in the mirror. "Who wants presents?"
Every destroyer's hand shot up, and the heavier ships were behind only because their bigger turbines took longer to spin up.
Jersey beamed, and trotted over to the nearest gaggle of happy young destroyers. "And put on some fucking Christmas music for secnav's sake!"
Right on cue, one of the submarines suddenly appeared near the PA system, and plugged an ipod into the jack. Instantly the room was awash with Naka's latest Christmas album.
"Ha!" Jersey cackled as she handed out plushies and warm hugs to a gaggle of Special-types. "The traffic cone can sing, can't she?"
Naka stared blankly at the battleship, clearly bracing herself for some snarky put-down that never came.
"You sing weird-ass Jap shit," Jersey smiled and ruffled the cruiser's buns. "But motherfucker do you sing it well." The battleship slipped something into the cruiser's hands. Musashi was too far away to see exactly what it was. It looked like just a scrap of paper, but the way Naka laughed and hugged the giant battleship made Musashi think it was something more.
"And you," Jersey rounded on Shinano, who was trying her very best to hide her titanic bulk behind White's minute frame. "Flat-a-yam. You ever fucking seen Ess-Bee-Why?"
The carrier shivered a catatonic negative.
"It's fucking awesome." Jersey fished a blu-ray box-set from her enormous sack and handed it to the littlest Yamato.
She didn't even need to offer a hug, because Shinano leaped into the battleship's arms and squeezed her tight. "Thank you, mama!"
Jersey blushed, and hugged the carrier back with equal measures awkwardness and enthusiasm.
And then it was Musashi's turn to reap the benefits of being friends with an American come Christmas time. The middle Yamato settled back in her chair, a giddy smile plastered on her chocolate face as the towering American sashayed over. "What's gotten into you, Jersey?"
Jersey shrugged. "It's Christmas and I'm an officer."
"What's your rank have to do with anything," said Musashi. She tried not to leer at the American's rippling belly. But… it was hard. She'd never seen a warship with quite so much power.
"I'm supposed to look out for my girls," said Jersey. "Be a gentleman and shit."
"You?" Musashi laughed. "A gentleman."
"You shut your whore mouth," Jersey grabbed an empty glass and chucked it at the laughing battleship. "Besides, I got shit for you too."
"You do?" Musashi leaned forward in anticipation.
Jersey grunted and pulled an enormous, still-steaming apple pie from her sack. "Baked it myself."
Musashi was drooling just looking at it. The smell was overpowering already, and the air was suddenly so sweet she could taste it. "T-thank you."
Jersey smiled and ruffled the battleship's snowy hair-tufts. "Merry Christmas, Mushi."
—|—|—
Under normal circumstances, the sight of Kongou sitting behind a desk cheerily brewing tea would be no cause for concern.
Okay, that was a lie. The cheerful British-built battleship's presence was always cause for concern. She had a knack for showing up when trouble was about to boil over and defusing it all with warm scones and delicious tea. But when the battleship wasn't running around like a crazy woman—which she arguably was—putting out fires and stopping problems, she was busy creating new and interesting problems.
She tried her best, she really did. Goto didn't know how he'd have kept the fleet together without here, especially in the early days. Having Ooyodo around to help only marginally improved the situation. The cranky command cruiser was a genius at logistics, but she was a tightly-wound ball of stress and nerves who knew nothing but spreadsheets and rage. She couldn't match Kongou's heart if she tried.
But… for all her well-meaning effort, the old battlewagon had caused her share of problems. Goto couldn't help but be wary when he saw her sitting quietly behind his desk.
Only that wasn't the reason he was so concerned. His heart rate was spiking into the quadruple-digits because of her outfit.
The battleship wore her usual radar headband, but she'd accessorized with a floppy Christmas hat and some thick red-green ribbons. That was an exhaustive list of the old warship's attire. How she wasn't chafing like mad was beyond Goto.
"Oh!" Kongou smiled and batted her eyelashes at Goto. "Tei-to-Kuuuu~" She trailed off with a blown kiss launched in Goto's general direction.
"Uh…" Goto sighed and cradled his head in his hands. If she really thought this display of skin would get to him… he worked with Nagato for crying out loud.
"It's time to open," Kongou tried to cross her sinewy battlecruiser's legs in a sultry manner, but the wince in her delicate English features told Goto that ribbon chafed more than she let on. "Your Pah-RESENTS!"
Goto shook his head. "Kongou, Christmas was yesterday."
"Then," Kongou giggled without missing a beat. "your gift's three hundred and sixty-four days early!"
Goto glanced around the room, purposely keeping his eyes from drifting anywhere near Kongou's Christmasy bandages. "I don't see any presents," he deadpanned.
Kongou pouted. "Are you suuuuure~"
Goto sighed in resignation. "You're the present."
"Dess!" Kongou golf-clapped with a smile that could scorch paint from twenty paces. "Aren't you going to unwrap me?"
Goto grabbed the office chair—his office chair—that Kongou had planted herself in and pushed her out of the way. Which was easier said than done, Kongou might look like a lithe, athletic young girl, but she was enormously heavy. And she'd dug both her heels in like anchors, which might've been a more significant factor. "Kongou, I have work to do."
"B-but…" Kongou's face had lost a shade of its cheery radiance. "Teitoku, presents!"
Goto grabbed one of the folding chairs he kept in his office for just such an occurrence and set it up before the overflowing altar to the gods of paperwork and requisitions that was his desk. He didn't even glance at the pouting battleship as he settled his glasses on his nose and read though the uppermost form. "Another time, Kongou."
"But…" Kongou wheeled her chair over with a screech of battered wheels. "Teitoku…" her voice was barely more than a whisper as she draped herself over her beloved Admiral.
Goto couldn't find it in himself to ask her to stop. The battleship was warm and soft and smelled faintly of fresh buttered scones. And for all the trouble she caused him, she more than paid it back in trouble she averted for him. And he'd be lying if he said she wasn't cute.
"Teitoku," Kongou nuzzled her admiral with her slender nose. "I know I don't look it, but I'm getting old."
"I thought kanmusu don't age," said Goto as he filled out one of Ooyodo's requisition forms. Exactly why she needed a "Viennese triple-extraction apparatus" was beyond him, but he'd learned long ago never to question his constantly-exasperated logistics officer.
"Well…" Kongou trailed off, her ribbons creasing as she shifted position. "We don't… but still! I'm really old!" She pounded her foot into the floor with a pout.
"I can tell," chuckled Goto.
"I'm really old," said Kongou, "And I want babies, Dess!""
Goto stopped, and slowly put his pen down. "Kongou," He glanced over at the battleship, his gaze briefly dipping to her tightly-muscled belly. He'd be lying if he said he'd never pictured her with a little bun or two on the slipways. Or in a wedding gown for that matter. But, "We've got a war to win."
Kongou pursed her lips, her features suddenly looking far older and wiser than her usual schoolgirl glee. "Right," she nodded. "And after that… I've a heart to win!"
Goto chuckled. "One thing at a time, Kongou."
Kongou bolted to her feet, too enraptured with her own prepared monologue to deviate from her chosen course. "We will fight them on the seas, dess!" she boasted in a remarkably good Churchill impression that still sounded distinctly of kooky Japanese girl. "We will defeat them with burning gunfire, Dess!"
"Here we go," Goto smiled at her.
"Then," Kongou pivoted on her heel to square off against her Admiral. "I will fight you in the sheets, Dess! And I will show you my BURNING LOVE, Dess!"
Goto smiled a bit wider. "Until that day, Kongou. But…" he motioned to the piles of paper swamping his desk.
"Right!" Kongou wheeled towards the door. "Battleship Kongou, heading out!"
The fast-battleship stormed though the door, only to run into Ashiagara doubled-over a requisition form. The heavy cruiser glanced over the battleship's ribbons and shook her head. "Even I think that's desperate."
Kongou just smirked in the Hungry Wolf's general direction.
"Hey, Kongou?" Ashigara grabbed for the passing battleship's arm. "How do you spell 'Aphrodisiac'?"
Kongou blinked. "I do not want to know, Dess."
—|—|—
"Somethin' Somethin' Somethin' Somethin' Mushroom! Mushroom!" Akron giggled to herself as she sung. She forgot the name of the song… and some of the words… but she knew that Chief Halley had shown her it before she shipped out. And she liked Chief Halley, ergo she liked the song.
She should really buy him something. He'd been so nice to her ever since she got back, and he'd shown her so many cool things the FUTURE (Well, the present to him. But to her it was the FUTURE, and she refused to be convinced otherwise) had to offer. She would have given him something for Christmas, but she was on patrol all week, and she'd burned all her leave time setting up decorations.
Most of which were still there, like those lights she'd strung up along the rooftops. They were pretty, and she could even see them from the air.
"He he," Akron giggled as a breeze hit her broadside on. Apparently she as going south now. She didn't really mind, she didn't have anyplace to be. Besides, the base looked so pretty with everything covered in snow. It was like walking though a storybook.
The pudgy carrier felt something soft and furry nuzzle against her head. One of the K-types! Akron loved her K-types, they were so soft and furry and made her happy whenever she could snuggle them.
"Heyyyy!" Akron grabbed the lazily drifting cat by the scruff of its fat neck and gently tugged it down into her arms. "Who's a good kitty?" Akron turned the cat over and shoved her face into its's soft silvery belly fur. "Whuzaghdkhtteh" she cooed into its tummy.
The cat purred and tried to nuzzle the carrier with its cold nose.
Akron giggled and pulled away. "You are!" She said, fishing the name tag on its collar out from a mountain of fluffy fur, "K-twenty-seven! Yes you a—" The carrier stopped and her ears twitched upright. Not the soft pink people-ears on the sides of her head, but the silvery cat-ears perched on the top of her equally silver hair.
Akron wasn't quite sure why she had cat ears, but she rather liked they way they looked on her and Macon, so she wasn't going to complain. Besides, they gave her very good hearing, which made it easy to tell when someone was sneaking up on her.
"Elly?" Akron perked up. The little DE's diesel-electric drive made a very distinct noise that none of the other girls quite matched. And her stifled giggles were even more distinctive.
"Dangit!" Elly crossed her little arms with a pout.
"One of these days, Elly," Akron let K-27 float out of her arms and spun on her heel to face the destroyer-escort. She overestimated the angle though, and ended up spinning a good twenty degrees too far. Oh well, easy enough to fix. "One of these days you'll sneak up on me. But not today!"
Elly pouted. "Imma figure out how to sneak up on you! Just you wait!"
Akron giggled as the little escort's breath curled from her adorable little face. The carrier counted herself exceptionally fortunate to assigned to an escort fleet. There were so many cute ships! She just wanted to hug them all! "Maaaybe~" she teased.
Elly sighed. "Um… I got you something."
"Hmm?" Akron's ears pivoted over a hair before her body followed suit. "You have my full and undivided attention."
Elly giggled, and stood on her tiptoes to pet the bigger carrier's perky cat-ears. "You're so funny when you do that."
Akron put on a face of pure pathetic hurt, and slowly put one hand on Elly's arm with a quiet mew.
"Uh," Elly settled back on her feet. "It's from all of us DEs. We, uh… yeah." She trailed off into a sage nod.
"Oh, I can't wait!" Akron clapped her hands together eagerly.
"I hope you like it," Elly blushed and handed the airborne carrier a gift-wrapped box roughly the size of her head.
"A box!" Akron beamed as she took the present and cradled it against her ample bosom. "Thank you!"
Elly stifled a giggle with the end of her overlong sleeve. "Um… there's something inside it."
Akron blinked. "I knew that." She blushed and tore at the wrapping paper like the large cat that she was. Before long, the paper was torn to shred small enough to waft away in the breeze, and the airship was left holding a box with a smaller box taped onto it.
"Cat ear headphones!" Akron hurriedly tore the black-blue accessories from their box and settled them on her head.
"Mmhm," Elly nodded. "That way… you know… you can listen with both?"
"I love it!" Akron swooped down to give the little DE a soft hug. "Thank you!"
Elly blushed and pried herself out of Akron's chest. "An', uh… the iPod has a bunch of songs on it for you. Me an' the girls asked around for stuff you might like."
"Aww…" Akron blushed in return. "That's so thoughtful! You girls are the best!"
Elly scuffed her foot in the snow. "Aww… merry Christmas, Akron."
"Merry Christmas, Elly!" Akron smiled and wrung the empty box between her hands. Then she kept gently squishing it. Then her gaze drifted down into its cardboard depths.
"You can keep the box if you want," giggled Elly.
"Yay!" Akron beamed and promptly shoved the box over her head like a makeshift helmet.