The snow had melted finally. Sprouts of grass pushed out of the frosty earth to bounce about with life and vibrancy, flowers bloomed and-
Quinto sneezed violently, reaching blindly for another box of tissues to rub his nose raw with. His eyes and nose were red and dripping with fluids, the season not one that agreed with him as pollen tapped at his window, taunting him with its freedom.
"Wow," Silvestro grunted, handing him a ginger tea blend. "Amelia wasn't kidding when she said you had bad hay-fever."
"Why are you here?" he wheezed, sinking into his pillows more.
"Amelia asked me to watch you for today, apparently you do 'very dumb things' when you're sick," she responded, making quotation marks around the words 'very dumb things' to show they weren't hers.
"Shut up."
"Not my fault you ran after the milkman in your knickers cause you thought he was an intruder."
"Shut up!"
Silvestro put her hands up in surrender at the boy's ire, his face smothered behind a handful of tissues as he desperately tried to clear his sinuses. She scrunched her face at the wet sound of the boy blowing his nose and took a step back to hand him another box as he scrounged around the emptied pack.
"Well, lunch should be ready in just a bit," she uttered, shaking her head. "It's still cooking on the stove, but I'll be bringing up soon. Sound good?"
"Yeah, whatever," the boy grunted, before shrivelling up under his sheets to hide from the pollen in the air.
Silvestro huffed at him before she closed his bedroom door and headed down the stairs, her footsteps heavy and resounding. She took a breath of the herbs that grew in terracotta pots in the kitchen, idly naming thyme, parsley and oregano from sight and scented mint from the one she pinched in her fingertips.
"I should probably water you lot," the woman murmured to herself, filling up a cup from the shelf with water and gave each pot a generous dousing. She hummed and idly watched the soil soak it up - before whipping around and held the cup high and ready to throw.
"Wait, wait, wait-!" Verde yelped, holding his notes up in protection. "I just needed some data from you-"
"Data?"
"I just need some of your observations of the subject," the scientist explained, lowering his notebook as she did the cup, though her expression remained stormy. "Just an hour of your time, half of that even, and I will be out of your hair."
"Verde, entering my home without permission is one thing but my friends-"
"I try not to make it a habit."
"Verde."
"Fine, twenty minutes."
Silvestro grit her teeth at the man before she wavered and extinguished the fire under the bubbling pot. A long sigh slipped out of the woman and she grabbed the ladle hanging from a hook to pour a steaming portion for the ailed boy upstairs.
"I will be back in a minute if you have so much as moved-" Silvestro turned and Verde was already seated at the family's dining table, his equipment spread out and patiently waiting. "...Bloody hell," she scoffed before she grabbed a spoon and tossed it onto the tray to take the whole thing upstairs.
It was precarious and took a bit of balancing, but Silvestro made it to Quinto's doorway, where she spotted him squinting out from between the door jam, laying in wait. She snorted before she let him pinch the whole platter from her and disappear into his room, a soft grumble of thanks just audible from the mass of blankets that was the boy.
"I'll be back for it in an hour," she called, and all she received was the exaggerated shuffle of sheets.
Verde was waiting for her at the table, tinkering with some sort of audio recording device. He looked up as she came down the stairs and grabbed his pen, a long-suffering sigh falling from the woman as she eyed him.
"Out with it," she demanded, dragging out a chair and dumping herself down onto it. "What do you want to hear?"
"This is Professor Verde with Ms Silvestro Russ on the Subject 007. Today's date is-"
"Oh, I swear to God, Verde, you drag this out any longer and I'll set Rugg on you," Silvestro threatened, slumping into her chair.
"There is a process. The data will be invalid if not recorded properly!"
"Oh please, you can take dot points and then elaborate later to make it all pretty."
Verde took a breath, obviously prepared to go off on a rant about reliability and integrity, but a raised, impatient eyebrow made him cease. He deflated with a grumble and pressed a couple of buttons on the recorder.
"This is an abridged session with Ms Silvestro Russ on Subject 007," the scientist muttered, and Silvestro gave a victorious scoff before she poured them both some water and got started. "Subject 007's repeated lengths of time under your bed, when did this habit first form?"
"I think..." Silvestro furrowed her brows for a moment, idly tapping the table. "Maybe a week into his time living in my apartment. He'd come in and squirrel himself into the tightest spots he could live in comfortably."
"Okay," Verde scribbled something down in horrendous writing that shone even Silvestro's sloppy switch in a positive light. "Could you name a reason for this behaviour, considering that your home in its totality is meant to be a safe space."
"He probably didn't trust me totally in the beginning," she shrugged, "My apartment was warm and I provided food. But that doesn't mean I was completely in his good graces."
"And yet," Verde hummed, looking up from his paper. "The Subject chose to settle beneath where you sleep. And the Subject calls for your help when it is stuck."
Silvestro paused the sip she was about to take of her drink.
"...I won't pretend to understand what's going on in that cat's head."
There was a lot of that in her days now, she thought. More and more people entering her spheres that were unpredictable, unprecedented and so very strange.
"That's the entire point of this interview, Ms Russ," Verde sighed, "To theorise on the reasons for why subject 007-"
"Just say Ruggine."
"Subject 007 has these habits," he powered on and Silvestro rolled her eyes.
"Animals are known to help each other," she breathed, turning her cup idly on the table. "Elephants will help a tired lioness carry her cub, wombats will make their burrows sanctuaries during fires, humans will drag animals out of floodwaters. Ruggine probably acknowledges this trait and calls for help when he knows he can't do it himself."
Verde hummed at her response, and Silvestro took a long drink of her water. He looked to the notes he had scribbled, before leaning forward in his chair, linking his fingers together as he rested his elbows on top of the table.
"I would like to test that theory one day."
"Have at it," she shrugged, "But for now? Get out of Amelia's house, Verde."
"Fine, fine."
000
Silvestro was sat up in bed with the lamp on her side table casting her book on a warm light. She was tucked in snugly with thick, pillowy blankets that she absolutely sank into, a contented half-lid to her eyes as she idly read.
Ruggine made a soft 'mirr' as he peeked his head into the room, and brown eyes peered over her book before returning to their point in the page. Ruggine took it as acceptance and slinked the rest of the way in, bumping the door further open as he did.
"Hello," Silvestro murmured as the rusty ol' cat jumped up onto her bed, paws sinking into the mattress and making where he tread.
Ruggine made another noise before stepping up onto Silvestro's resting form, paw digging directly into her kidney and making her wheeze in alarm.
"Oh, you bony bastard boy," Silvestro grumbled as he made himself comfortable.
The Russ woman glared over the top of her book as the cat kneaded the bottom of her ribcage with his paws, the blankets protecting her from the random prickling of claws that she knew would have needled her skin. She huffed and got a wide-eyed look from the resident biscuit-maker, before she settled back and submitted herself to being nothing more than a living heater to Ruggine.
Silvestro read quietly as an early Spring shower tapped against the window, the purring motor that was Ruggine making the air rumble in a comforting way. She had heard that cats occurred at a frequency that improved bone density, Verde had casually tossed out that note to her while stalking the feline.
Ruggine startled Silvestro from her thoughts by stepping on her book and flattening it down against her chest, allowing him to stare at her face as she drew back into the pillows in caution - her eyebrow had thoroughly scarred after his bath last year.
"Why do you do the things you do, Rugg?" she sighed, pouty at being disturbed from her reading.
She huffed as Ruggine purred loudly and knocked his head into her face, rumbling like a rusty, old motor as he cuddled against her. Silvestro scrunched up her face to avoid getting fur in her eyes and mouth, before eventually relinquishing her hold on her hardback and began to pet the needy cat, who all but fell into her shoulder as she scratched his jaw.
Ruggine purred and urged the woman on, tilting his head back as he laid with his belly exposed, demanding to receive more scrithes to the chin. His paw twitched and the nub that was all left of his tail thrashed against the sheets as Silvestro crooked her fingers along the underside of his jaw, big, yellow eyes squinting at her in satisfaction.
"I think it's time for bed for us, hey Rugg?" she murmured, before she stilled as a tiny lick was placed on the tip of her nose. "...Oh my God, I love you."
Silvestro curled up on her side after switching off the lights and putting away her book with a marker. She yawned and settled down, feeling the warmth where Ruggine laid under the blankets, tucked up against her stomach.
'Why do you think Subject 007 does that?' she could just hear Verde ask as she absently curled her fingers into long, rusty fur.
"...Do you feel safe with me, Ruggine?"
Silvestro looked down and from within the darkness, saw a single, yellow eye peering up at her. There was a soft purr before Ruggine shifted and pressed tighter to her stomach, his breaths just barely audible.
Silvestro smiled, before closing her eyes and falling asleep to the rumbling purrs and the rain softly drumming against the windowpane.