A/N: Hello again! I hope you are all liking the story so far. We only have a couple more chapters of domestic bliss until Coming Home catches up to the beginning of the game, so enjoy the peace while it lasts! If you like the story, please let me know by leaving a comment or a PM! They really make my day/life/existence :)

Today's the day!

Carl will be home and healthy at four pm later that evening, and Iris was overjoyed. After over a week of living alone in the mansion with Markus, she was so happy that her dad would be there with them. Even though there were two of them, the mansion still felt too empty. She tried calling Leo to see if he would visit and welcome the, "old man," home, but she never got a response back.

She hoped what she was expecting wasn't true.

Either way, Iris was flitting around the house, cleaning up every speck of dust and fixing every frame to be just right for her father's return later that evening.

"That's my job, you know." Markus told her. He found her in the living room, dusting the television at three, haphazardly wiping the surface down. He took the duster from her easily as she grinned.

"Sorry. Just nervous. I want everything to be perfect for tonight. He deserves it, y'know?"

"I know." Markus nodded. "Why don't you go decide what you'll make him for dinner?"

"Oh! I hadn't thought about that! Groceries!" She squealed. The fridge was almost empty. "I need to get to the store! Oh, shit, what's his favorite meal? I forgot his favorite meal!"

"Iris." Markus brought his hands to her shoulders, forcing her to calm down and look at him. "Breathe. He'll eat anything you put in front of him. Though his favorite is chicken alfredo with broccoli."

"Chicken alfredo with broccoli." Iris repeated, and she took a deep breath. "Okay, I can do that." She nodded to him. "Thanks."

"Any time." Markus answered, releasing her. "We're out of spaghetti and alfredo sauce, so you may have to improvise."

She headed over to the fridge quickly and checked the components. Damn it. "You're right, of course. I could head to the grocery store real quick?"

"You won't have enough time to grab him from the hospital." Markus informed her. "If you'd like, you could head to the grocery store and I'll grab him from the hospital? Then when he comes home we can sit down and you two could have a welcome back meal."

Iris relayed the idea in her head as she swung the fridge door close, her hand still on the handle. And she cocked her head to the side, thinking. That could work. "That's a good idea, actually."

"Actually? My ideas are always good."

Iris could hear the snark in his voice, and she let out a soft laugh. "85 percent of the time."

"90 percent of the time."

"89 percent. Highest I can go, Markus."

"Fine, but you're wrong."

Iris couldn't hold back the belly laugh from escaping. "You are such a shit. When did you become such a shit?"

Markus followed her to the kitchen, smirking down to her as he sauntered up to the fridge. His hand rested against the counter next to himself, just an inch of space between the pair. "Since living with you two. I've adapted to the dry Manfred humor."

"Well," Iris took her hand from the fridge and pressed her finger to his chest. "I," she poked him again. "Kind of." Another poke. "Like it." She gave him a teasing smirk, this time allowing her hand to rest against his firm form. "Just goes to show we can convert anyone to being annoying pains in the asses."

"Evidently so." Markus looked down to her, smirking right back down to her, green eyes teasingly gleaming in a striking emerald. His hand crawled up, wrapping around hers against his chest in a sweet, domestic gesture.

Shit, Iris thought. She felt butterflies in her stomach, her heart rate speeding in her chest, and she thought, he'd notice. He can notice everything. Stop.

"Iris?" He asked her.

Knew it, she thought. She closed her eyes. "Yes?"

"Your heart rate is elevated." It sounded like a question.

"Yes." Glad your scanners still work.

She leaned her head down to his chest level, eyes still closed as she listened to him. God forbid he take note of her dilated pupils. She would melt in her spot in embarrassment. "Everything okay?"

She pulled her hand out of his, trying to control her thoughts. "Just fine. Nerves, and all." Iris flicked her head to the door and her steps were quick. "I'm gonna head out. See you when I get back."

Markus watched her as she flew out the door, frowning. "Of course."

What just happened? Iris wasn't normally that abrupt, but Markus' system chalked it up to the festivities of bringing Carl home. Of course, her father. Not him. Couldn't be.

Iris hummed softly to herself, reusable bags filled with groceries in hand. The taxi she took dropped her off by the pathway in front of her house at exactly four thirty; Carl and Markus would already be home by now. She was almost dreading her return.

Her father? A great joy.

Markus? Well, shit.

Iris knew she shouldn't be having thoughts like that. Thoughts of how nice his voice sounded, how mischievous he could be. How he would protect her at any costs and how he cared for the one thing Iris loved more than she loved herself. How he was almost perfect in every way. Even when they first met Iris was attracted to him; that was only physically. Now she knew how kind he could be—how caring and silly and teasing. Iris considered him a good friend.

He was an android. An it. What Iris wanted she could never have with him.

Iris tried to shake her head of the thoughts of Markus. He was their companion; nothing more. Even if she wanted to, if she wanted him, if wouldn't be real. He'd go with anything she asked because he's programmed to make their life easier and enjoyable.

She'd just have to stop. Stop caring so much about him. Android-human relationships could never work. So, that was Iris' only option. Stop. Caring. About. Markus.

Easier said than done, she thought.

She trekked her way up the path, groceries in both hands as she sung lightly under her breath. The door opened widely, she pulled through, and it swung shut behind her. There was no noise in the house besides the echo of the door. Iris raised an eyebrow. Unusual. Maybe her father was in bed, or in the studio? Markus would have accompanied him; could that be why it was so quiet?

Iris pulled into the kitchen and set the bags on the table, her mind running through different scenarios as to where her boys were. Bed, studio, maybe for a walk in the park? Her nimble fingers worked quickly on the food, leaving some on the countertop for dinner and setting the rest in their respective places for future use.

Then she heard it.

"Meow."

It was so soft that Iris almost didn't catch it. Her head shot up from the bag she was working on to check out the noise; a noise that did not belong in her house. Her feet lead her into the living room, where a decent-sized opened cardboard box was resting on the floor. Markus was by the studio door, sitting on the piano bench, fingers ghosting over the keys as he replayed a stanza in his head.

Iris pulled up quickly in front of the box and inside was an old blanket, a small bowl of water, and a freaking black kitten. It was so small that its eyes weren't even open; it couldn't have been more than two weeks old, if that. She took note of a small patch of white on one of its front paws; the only contrast of color on the whole kitten body. Iris muttered the first thing she thought aloud, so softly it was more like a whisper to herself.

"What the fuck."

She looked over to Markus, who looked back to her, who looked back to the box.

"Markus." It sounded like a question.

"Yes?" He answered, as if this was like a normal everyday occurrence.

"There's a cat in the living room."

"Yes." He nodded.

"There's a cat. In the living room."

"My answer remains the same." Markus stood from the bench, walking over to her form as her eyes widened at the feline, fast asleep in the little blanket.

"Why is there a fucking cat in the living room?!"

He chuckled at the confused, yet enthusiastic response from the young Manfred, and he knelt down to gently pet the kitten's head. "Well," Markus started, his eyes focused on the little body that could practically fit into a single hand, "Your father was feeling rather excited after leaving the hospital, so we took a bus that let us out about a half an hour's walk from the mansion. As we checked out the park area, we found this little guy hiding in the bushes."

Iris watched the little kitten stretch out into the palm of Markus' hand as her heart jumped in her chest. So. Stinking. Cute. "My dad doesn't like cats."

"Do you think Carl is the type of person to leave a helpless kitten in the park, right before winter?" Markus asked, looking up to her.

"I guess not."

"Evidently so." His hand reached around the small black kitten, so gently as to not hurt the little fella. "I've scanned him for parasites and there are none. No fleas, ticks, worms, not even an ant on him." The cutest little kitten Iris has ever seen stretched out a paw into Markus' hand as Markus swooped him up fully into his palm. "His dietary fulfillment seems to be lacking, but he's healthy enough that he's kept up his body heat."

Markus softly brought the kitten over to Iris, and she held her hands out for the obvious change. As he set the kitten onto her palms he continued, "I've already set an order for cat food. It'll be here at five thirty."

"Okay." Iris said softly. Her eyes were trained on the little kitten in her hands; the fur was so soft, so gentle. Oh my goodness a sweet baby kitten. "How long do we get to keep him?" Knowing her dad, he wouldn't want to keep the kitten for too long. Maybe until someone adopted him?

"Your father said that the second he is healthy enough we'll put in a transfer for another foster or adopter. I had the thought that the Humane Society would most likely take him if Carl was unsatisfied with the impromptu fostering." Markus answered, watching her eyes light up as she pressed the tip of her finger onto the pad of a paw, and the littlest claws pressed out.

"Oh, what a little monster!" She squeaked out. "The cutest, little, most vicious little monster I've ever seen!"

Markus laughed softly at her obvious enjoyment. "I knew you'd like him."

"What? Me?" Iris brought the cat up to Markus' eye level. "Like this little face?"

She brought the kitten back down and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. He chittered softly in response, curling up tighter in her hands. "Never."

"You do a good job of faking it, then." Markus teased.

As Iris held the little kitten close to her chest, she asked, "Speaking of, where is my dad?"

"In the studio, already working on a new painting."

"Good." She smiled. The creative juices were surely flowing, then. "I'll go say hi."

She knelt down to the ground, careful as she set the kitten back into the middle of the blanket. Iris ran a finger along his front paw with the splotch of white, murmuring softly, "Good night, little monster."

She stood up softly, her eyes focusing on the cat as her knees straightened out. As Iris turned back to Markus, in a split-second thought, she took a step closer, rested a hand on his neck, and pressed a chaste kiss onto his cheek.

And she decided—she could never stop caring about him. They could never have a future together, but his company and kindness would be enough for her.

Markus' mouth stood agape as her lips connected, his LED flashing in yellow as he took in the unexpected response. Her lips were warm against him, and while he was surprised, he welcomed the feeling. He could feel the stretch of space in between the digits of her fingers on his neck, and it was almost automatic as his hand went up to grasp at her waist, curling his own sweetly into the curve of her side. Iris pulled away, her fingers dropping from him and his going limp to his own side, and he felt almost cold without her against him.

Wait, he couldn't feel this warm. He couldn't feel, period. Right?

"Thanks, Markus." Iris' voice was a few octaves lower than he ever heard her. And he liked it. She trotted away from him, straight through the doors of the studio with a proud smile on her face.

Markus ran a check through his system as to why his face was tingling, right in the spot where Iris' lips were just a moment ago. All clear. No threats, no viruses. Mechanically speaking, he was perfectly okay.

Then why did his chest flutter when he thought about her?

"Monster! Off the counter!" Iris chided.

The almost full-fledged cat purred in response, his tail flicking wildly as he stretched his front paws outward toward her pancake batter.

"Monster, no! My pancakes!"

Monster's paw gently clawed at the edge of the bowl full of batter, and Iris huffed in response. She grabbed the bowl as she heard her father in the other room, screaming, "If I find a piece of fur in my pancakes, I'm sending it back to the chef!"

"Yeah, yeah." Iris rolled her eyes as she responded, setting it beside the pan, already sizzling with butter. Her hands wrapped around the six-month old cat's middle, hooking an arm underneath his back legs before flinging him gently towards the opening of the living room. Monster wasn't fazed in the slighted; once all fours were on the ground he strutted forward like a movie star, his nose pointed out to the air.

I love that cat.

"Y'know, he was only supposed to be here for like a month, right?" Carl eyed the feline on the ground from his spot at the table.

As Iris poured some pancake batter onto the pan in front of her, Markus recalled, "His bio is out online, Carl. If someone puts in an adoption application we will be the first to know."

Iris' heart sunk in her chest. She loved taking care of the little brat, even if he stepped in the paint in the studio once in a while. He was young; still learning the ways of the world. He just needed a teacher to show him the right way around the house. She knew she was being selfish, but Iris hoped that the application bank would stay empty.

"Still," Carl didn't sound convinced. "If he steps in my indigo red again, I am throwing him out a window without mercy."

"Dad!" Iris scolded. "If you say another mean thing about the bestest cat in the world I am spitting in your food."

"You don't have the guts."

She finished the rest of the pancakes in silence, thankful for the peaceful spring air flowing through the window of her breakfast nook. Iris grabbed two plates and filled them with pancakes, eggs, strips of crunchy bacon, and poured a strawberry compote over the carby goodness. It was a little sweet (not something her father's doctor would be happy with him eating,) but her dad had been doing particularly well with his diet. Just cheating a little bit. Just today.

Iris set the plate down in front of her father and her own place on the table before sitting, and her dad turned the television on. While they ate, they listened to the top news story of the day. Deviants in Detroit?

Iris read the words at the bottom of the screen: More deviant activity in Detroit, CyberLife still working on root cause.

Monster jumped onto the table beside her, and while her eyes were still glued to the screen she handed him a small bit of bacon. Iris heard the crunch as Monster ate the piece, and her hand went underneath his chin to give him a well-deserved scratch.

"Stop that, little flower." Carl complained. "You giving him a treat is going to show him that the table is a good spot for him. He needs to stay on the ground." He waved his hand in Monster's direction, swatting at the cat. Monster set his back legs down, staring at Carl with his little head cocked to the side and bright blue eyes gleaming. "Shoo, ya little shit."

"He is the bestest little shit in the world so he gets all the bacon." Iris handed him another small piece, internally cackling as Carl groaned at her. "He's had a hard-knock life, cut him some slack, dad."

"I want him gone the second someone else wants him."

Iris frowned but said nothing more. What her dad wants, her dad will surely get. So instead, she turned the volume up on the television, listening to the news of deviant androids. Did you know that deviants come from different android types? It's not just one bad batch of PC200's; there's no telling which one could be next.

Please, Iris thought with an eyeroll. They try to make androids seem scarier than they really are.

She took the last bite of her eggs as she shut the tv off. "Now, c'mon, I have that cup to get out of the kiln today."

"Just a minute." Carl said, shoving a forkful on pancake into his mouth. He closed his eyes, savoring the taste. "The compote is really good. I want to remember what it tastes like before I go back to 98 percent sugar-free again."

The two finished their morning meal quickly, and Iris brought the dirty dishes into the sink. Monster followed her as Carl went into the studio, and Markus walked slowly into the kitchen behind the cat.

"What's on the agenda today?" Iris asked as she grabbed at a sponge. While they had a dishwasher, it was easier and quicker to wash dishes by hand. Plus, Monster would sit on the counter beside her while she worked, and it was great fun to watch him swat at a stray bubble floating from her sponge.

"Nothing," Markus answered, his eyes searching through the Manfred's calendar internally. "Besides the artwork, you two have an open calendar."

"Any mail?"

"A couple hand letters were delivered this morning. I'll grab them from the box in a moment."

Iris looked up from the suds, hopeful. "Any news from Leo?"

Markus pressed his lips in a thin line. "None, I'm afraid."

Shit. It's been six months since she's last heard from him. They were almost at the six-and-a-half-month mark, which is the longest they have been without speaking. Iris looked back down to her dishes, eyes staring out as her mind wandered to her half-brother. Please be okay.

Monster chirped softly at Iris, and he took small steps up to the edge of the counter, close to her. His face stretched out to nudge against hers, and she pressed a soft kiss between his ears. And some people think cats aren't empathetic at all.

Markus' voice was soft as he asked, "Would you like me to send him a message?"

Iris pondered the thought. "I have before. He hasn't responded. He wouldn't respond this time around." He only calls when he needs something from them. If she waited long enough he would come crawling back to the mansion, hopefully in one piece. Probably high, but in one piece.

"I'm sorry."

Iris shook her head at Markus. "Don't be. I've told you before." She smiled sadly. "Leo is a handful at the best of times."

She brought her attention back to the plates at hand, and her hand vigorously scrubbed at a red spot on the plate from the fruit compote. Monster jumped from the countertop, running to the living room for seemingly no reason. What a brat, leaving Iris alone. Doesn't he know that she needs all of the attention? Trying to get the thought of Leo out of her head, she asked Markus, "Would you mind grabbing the mail?"

He nodded curtly. "Of course."

She finished the dishes by herself, quickly finishing up and setting the sponge aside against the spout. Through her ears rang the sound of a door opening and closing shut. She assumed was Markus with the front, heading down to the mailbox at the beginning of the paved pathway. With the suds and grime all gone from her fingers, she headed to the opening of the living room, but was immediately stopped by the android. That was fast.

"You have a letter, Iris." Markus handed it to her enthusiastically, and she blinked. "It's addressed only to you, not your father."

"What… what?" Iris' eyes widened. On the front of the letter was a name from a high-ranking art exhibit in Detroit, one she visited with her father many years ago when they opened a hall for his art. She snatched the letter from Markus' hand, ripped the top open, and quickly skimmed through the contents. "Oh, my god!"

"Dear Iris Manfred," she read aloud, voice high with excitement, "We have taken a high liking to the level of sophistication and grace within your unique form of sculpting. We would like to open a hall of your work in our exhibition with any pieces you would like to have on display. A banquet in your honor will be held if you so choose to open the hall, and will be held on November 1st, 2038, in six months' time. We hope to hear you soon!"

Iris' hands were shaking from the exhilaration running through her body. She felt like running, jumping, screaming from the top of her lungs. This was huge! Sure, her pieces were out there in the world, and she got quite a bit of money from it, but her father was normally the moneymaker. People pay big bucks for a Carl Manfred original. Iris Manfred originals were good, but not great.

Until now.

"Oh my god!" Iris jumped in her spot, swirling in a circle and throwing her hands out in the air. "I get a hall! I get a freaking hall! I can't be-lieve it!"

As she squealed with unadulterated joy, Markus grinned down to her. "Shall I send them a confirmation email?"

"Yes!" Iris nodded quickly. "Yes, of course! And I can send them a couple vases, some plates and pots, the cup I'm finishing up. And, oh, I'm keeping the ephelant, that one is dad's, but I'll to go through the rest because I get a freaking hall in a super serious art exhibit!" Her birthday was on the 5th of November, so this was like the best birthday gift ever.

"Oh, I gotta tell dad!" Iris exclaimed, and she ran with joy to the studio's automatic door as Markus trailed slowly behind her. When the door opened and she stepped through, she immediately headed over to her father, but stopped in her tracks, her jaw dropping. The sight she saw was too good to be true.

Monster was perched on her father's wheelchair, resting comfortably with all fours curled underneath him on an armrest. Even though Iris wasn't close, she could hear the loud purr of happiness coming from the little kitten. Carls' hand was outstretched, painting away at a small canvas in front of him with ease, like he didn't mind that Monster was there. He looked back to the noise of the door, finding Iris and Markus staring at him. And the edge of his lips quirked up in the smallest smile.

"Markus," His voice was calm, and he put his brush into a paint swatch on his palette. "Please take Monster's bio off the internet."

Iris' eyes widened. "Seriously?!" Her day was getting better and better.

"We can keep him."