A/N: I wrote fluff for fluff's sake. We all need fluff sometimes. *off to kill someone fictional now*

...

FUR BALL

Something cold and wet was touching the tip of her nose.

Olivia woke up with a start, her opened eyes immediately finding the source of the disturbance. She instinctively and abruptly moved her head back, "What the…" she started loudly, her mind still fuzzy with sleep.

The cat, or kitten, really, didn't seem bothered at all by her strong reaction; it seemed more curious than anything else, walking closer to her head again, apparently well decided on getting another good sniff at her face.

Olivia moved her head away again, staring at the ball of fur in disbelief, eventually pushing herself up to a sitting position. She spotted Peter, standing in the doorway. He was leaning against the frame in a way that was too casual, considering how much trouble he was about to be in.

"Did you bring this here?" She asked, or rather demanded, as the kitten bravely attempted to climb her thigh, tiny claws digging through the sheet and the thin fabric of her pants. She unceremoniously grabbed it by the loose skin of its neck, (throwing) dropping it farther away onto the mattress.

"Don't call her 'this', you'll hurt her little cat's feelings," he said, clearly more amused than worried about his future punishment.

But said little cat did not seem upset in the least by Olivia's obvious rejection, already trotting back towards her, though her progress came to an abrupt end when she got herself entangled in the sheets.

Olivia looked back at Peter with indignation. "A cat. A cat, Peter?!" She simply couldn't wrap her head around what could have prompted him to do such a thing. "Whose cat is it?"

Her hopes that this tiny and obviously clumsy fur ball, still drowning in their sheet, was someone else's problem, vanished when he said: "As of today, she's ours."

He had joined her, squatting down near the bed to help the cat out. When he pulled his hand out from the rumpled sheet, the cat had wrapped itself around his fingers, her teeth sunk into one of them.

"She's so feisty," he chuckled. "That's why I picked that one, she's like a cat version of you."

She stared at him in disbelief, stared at his stupid, goofy smile, as he dangled and shook his hand playfully, in a fake attempt to drop the cat. Olivia closed her eyes, taking a few deep and calming breaths. When she reopened them, the cat was still holding on to Peter's hand with her teeth and two front legs, her hind ones batting the air furiously.

"Why did you get a cat."

He probably noticed the ominous quality of her tone, because he finally shifted his attention from the animal to her. His smile became less idiotic, but it didn't disappear either. "Because you're stuck in this bed all day, all alone, and you need company."

The cat had fallen off at last, and was already well on its way back to Olivia's leg. Sensing her disapproval, and maybe fearing for the creature's safety, Peter grabbed it before Olivia could.

"I don't need a cat, I need work," she seethed, her frustration only growing when he simply smiled at her, scratching the kitten's neck, who was already purring extremely loudly between his hands.

"You need rest," he countered her calmly. "Doctor's orders."

She peered at him. "My blood pressure isn't exactly staying low right now, Peter," she said warningly. "Can you guess why?"

He sighed, a bit dramatically, before hopping onto the bed, unceremoniously forcing her to move to the side to give him more room. "Honey, this was not meant to annoy you."

"Oh really," she said between clenched teeth, staring at the cat. She still looked like she was in heaven right now, humming away.

"Hey," he said, making her look back at him. He was still smiling, but it was softer, more tender. It was exactly the kind of look she could rarely resist. Damn it. "I didn't simply get her so you would have someone to cuddle with when I'm not around. I got her to prove ourselves we can actually take care of an actual breathing being, and keep it alive for at least two weeks."

She couldn't help it. She had to chuckle at that, closing her eyes again. She shook her head as she fell back upon the pillows. "We're way past the' trying' stage, as far as our relationship is concerned," she noted, unnecessarily. "Even if she doesn't survive us, we'll still have to go on with our current…predicament."

Peter offered her his most disapproving scowl, before bending over her middle section, bringing his lips close to her stomach. "What mommy meant to call you was 'our perfect little soul', you just heard her all wrong because of all the amniotic fluid in your ears."

What Olivia really meant to do was push his head away from the curve of her belly, but as if of their own accord, her fingers got lost in his hair instead, and she was unable to contain yet another tired, hormonal chuckle, her eyes once again closed.

She felt him move, and she reopened her eyes, meeting his gaze. A soft, blue gaze that had way too much power on her bones and overall wellbeing.

Damn it.

"If you really don't want the cat, I'll find another home for her," he said quietly. "But I really hope you'll give her a chance, first. She might grow on you, like I did."

She squeezed his hair, affectionately, shaking her head a little. "Look at where all that growth led us," she half-joked, though in all honesty, she still felt quite overwhelmed by the prospect of everything that was to come.

She didn't need to say it out loud. He knew it, of course. That's why he had gotten the cat.

After a few more seconds of silent staring, she sighed again, in obvious defeat. "Two weeks," she warned the kitten, who just blinked at her, while Peter let out a victorious cackle.

"Did you hear that, Mrs. Papaya? You're officially on trial."

"Mrs. Papaya?" Olivia repeated.

"She's the friendliest of cats," Peter stated simply, before gently putting her upon Olivia's extended stomach.

She expected the cat to swiftly start moving again, but was genuinely surprised when she didn't. She just stood there, intrigued, sniffing the bulge of her belly button.

That was until her daughter gave her a firm kick from inside her womb, and Mrs. Papaya went flying into the air, jumping away in shock with so much force that she fell off the bed altogether.

"See," Peter observed. "They already love each other."