Babysitting And Chicken Soup

by Ana Lyssie Cotton and Persephone

Nathan paused outside Stryfe's door. He had decided to knock this time. For some reason the minor courtesy seemed to irritate Stryfe more than simply barging in, perhaps because denying access wasn't really an option.

He had half-raised his hand when he stopped moving and frowned. Had he just heard a sneeze?

Maybe it was one of the cats.

He knocked anyway.

"Come in."

Nate opened the door and stepped in, a cheery smile on his face, "And how are you this fine morning, Stryfe?"

The afore-mentioned prisoner looked up from his cross-legged position on the cot, a glare in his eyes. "Did somebody give you happy drugs, Dayspring?"

"I see you're in an even worse mood than usual." Nate looked around the room and determined that the cats were distributed comfortably throughout it, although for some reason none of them were on Stryfe at the moment.

Stryfe sniffed, "Breakfast wasn't very good."

"It wasn't?"

"No." He'd barely been able to taste it.

"What was wrong with it?"

"No flavor." He sniffed again, harder.

"Oh, well, I'll have to have the kitchen staff flogged, then."

Stryfe stared at him suspiciously. "You made a joke. Right?"

"Yes, I made a joke. That's more your style--or rather, Apocalypse's."

Stryfe sniffed again. "It wasn't funny."

"Not especially," Nate agreed cheerfully. "I suppose I could suggest they spice up your lunch a little, but I'm almost afraid to guess what the result of that would be...."

"Probably something I really *would* want to flog them for." He sniffed a fourth time, drawing a rather odd look from Nate.

"That's starting to sound less and less haughty and more like you actually need to. Are you sure the *food* was the reason you couldn't taste it?"

"Yes." Stryfe grimaced as a sneeze began making his nose itch. "Now. Don't you have better things to do with your time?"

Nathan leaned against the wall, and watched as two kittens began climbing his boots. "Probably." He looked at Stryfe, "But this is much more fun."

"You have a warped sense of recreation."

"Probably," Nate agreed again, telekinetically scritching the top of one kitten's head. It looked around frantically for the hand and then just clung to his boot and purred loudly. "How come you aren't getting climbed on today?"

"They like you better?" Stryfe suggested sourly.

Nate grinned, "Why are you scrunching your nose up like that, Stryfe?"

"It... itches."

"You're making the most extraordinary faces about it, too," Nate observed. "You might just try scratching it."

"Won't help." It was getting much worse; and Nathan was almost laughing at him.

"Why not?"

"Fine." Stryfe hrmphed and scratched his nose. The tickly feeling intensified, and he gritted his teeth as the sneeze built.

"Now you look even sillier."

"I--*choo*." Stryfe glared at him, "Do not."

"Well, *now* you don't. Not as much, anyway." Apparently it hadn't been a cat after all.

Stryfe grimaced again. Unfortunately, it hadn't helped for more than a few seconds this time. "I don't look silly."

"I thought I'd heard a sneeze when I was about to knock," Nathan said cheerfully. "Except at the time I thought it might have been a cat."

"Get that smug look off your face, Dayspring. I am *not* sick. There's just a lot of dust in here."

"Did I say a word about your being sick? There shouldn't be any more dust than there has been for weeks, though."

Stryfe's nose, despite the dismissal of possible reasons for it, continued to tickle ferociously.

"Well, there must be." Stryfe sniffled, attempting to not sneeze again.

"Maybe you're allergic to the kittens," Nate suggested helpfully.

"No." Although it would mean they'd never be around him again, the thought gave him a feeling of loneliness. So he wasn't. At all. His nose twitched, and he sneezed again.

"Well, it does seem a little sudden for you to be developing an allergy. I suppose they could have rolled in something peculiar. Maybe you should wash them."

That was hard enough when he *wasn't* sneezing.

"Or you could have actually come down with something."

Stryfe reflected plaintively that it would have been nice if the times a single sneeze had shooed off the tickle in his nose for several minutes had coincided with Nathan's visit, instead of... well... this.

"I -- *sneeze* --have not."

Nate grinned cheerily. "I'll have Hope come have a look at you." He carefully removed the kittens, "But I have affairs of state to attend to now." He sighed.

He blinked as he opened the door and discovered Kyrin walking down the hall. "Hello. I thought you were off duty today."

"I am." She smiled mischievously. "I promised the Chaos-Bringer a visit."

"I'm not sure he's feeling up to company right now...." Nate glanced over his shoulder.

She peered over his shoulder at Stryfe, who was wiping his dripping nose on the napkin left over from his tasteless breakfast. "Awww. He's got a cold." She grinned, "Even better."

Nate blinked, "You like torturing him?"

"I. Am. Not. Sick," Stryfe growled. The growl would probably have been more impressive if he hadn't promptly squeezed his eyes shut to sneeze again.

"Mhmm." She waited for Nate to step out of her way, then entered Stryfe's room. "And that would be why you're sneezing."

"I'll send Hope along when she has a free minute," Nathan said. He wanted to stay and listen to what was bound to be an amusing conversation, but duty called.

Kyrin went over and sat down on the cot, uninvited, once Nathan had closed the door. Stryfe wiped his nose again and didn't turn to face her. "If you think I have a cold, why aren't you staying out of range?"

"I somehow doubt it's anything deadly. Besides, I take care of babies and small children, sometimes in groups. I've developed a very enthusiastic immune system."

He looked at her, "Why are you here, anyway?" Bad enough he had a cold. Even worse, to have the Askani who thought he was cute see him like this.

"I'm off duty and, as I mentioned to Nathan, I promised you a visit. Looks like you could possibly use a little fussing over, too."

Stryfe dabbed cautiously at his nose again as the itch renewed itself. That couldn't be what they were supposed to do with sick prisoners....

"What are you going to -- *sniff* -- do with me?" he asked guardedly.

"I suppose I could read you stories and make chicken soup...."

Stryfe eyed her. "...I can't taste anything."

Kyrin looked mischievous. "I make it with enough peppers and it'll clear out your nose until you can."

Stryfe winced and pressed the napkin harder under his nose, turning away. Even *thinking* about that made his nose tingle viciously.

"Let me guess, The Chaos-Bringer needs no pampering."

"Ex--*sneeze*--actly."

Kyrin reached over and patted his shoulder. He jumped under her hand. "Think he can handle it anyway?" A pause. "You're going to use up that napkin in a little while at this rate."

"Faster if you make me eat peppers." He supposed there wasn't much point in denying it any more....

"Well, I'd bring you something else to sneeze on."

The kittens clambered onto the bed, and expectantly attempted to all fit in Kyrin's lap. She blinked at them as they fought over who got to sit where. "So, you're sick. I'm sure some tissues will be found for you to use." She grinned at him, "There's even soft fluffy ones that we use on the babies, so their noses aren't hurt."

"I'll live," he growled. He hoped. If he didn't manage to convince them keeping him alive was more trouble than he was worth. Maybe if taking care of him entertained an Askani he should count it as a minor stroke of good fortune for once.

"Well, I should think so."

Stryfe sniffled hard and considered that that was probably an encouraging sentiment.

A kitten, having lost its place on Kyrin's lap, decided to brave the great Sneezing Creature, and sauntered over to Stryfe. "Mrrow?"

He sighed and patted its head. It purred.

"Honestly. Are you always like this when you're sick?"

"I don't know, I've never been sick before--that I remember." He hastily added at her raised eyebrow.

"So, going by what my mother says, you are always a cranky child when you're sick."

"As far as I recall, I was very rarely in a good mood as a child, and I haven't seen your mother since then."

She chuckled, "Your moods seem to vary. Anyway, how can you be grouchy when you have kittens?"

"They're vicious little beasts." A pause. "Even if they are cuddly."

A knock on his door distracted both, and Stryfe called out, "Come in."

"Time for me to go, probably." Kyrin rose, carefully removing the accumulated kittens. They protested, but seemed happy enough to start chasing each other around the room.

Hope stepped in and raised an eyebrow at Kyrin. "You could stay and watch him be a worse patient than Nathan."

Kyrin grinned. "Don't you usually claim that's impossible?"

"I've seen him fuss over a pregnant cat. I'd say I'll give it a shot. He was all right as far as the scratches went, I admit." Hope moved over to Stryfe. "So. Nathan tells me you're allergic to your cats."

Stryfe shook his head, "I'm not allergic to them."

"Then you have a cold."

"No--*sneeze*"

"Stryfe..."

"I am NOT allergic to them."

"No.... But you're sick."

"...am not."

Hope crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. And that wasn't a surreptitious swipe at your nose to keep it from dripping."

Kyrin snickered from her position by the door.

"..."

"I'm right."

"You are not."

"You know, Stryfe, I realize this may be a new concept for you to digest, but first aid and that incidental to chronophysics do *not* constitute my entire medical training."

Stryfe tried to glare, which might have been more effective if his eyes hadn't been stinging at the corners. Apparently the urge to sneeze was no longer remaining confined rationally to his nose. He sniffled, which only made the tickling worse.

"Well, you *don't* tend to have this problem under normal circumstances," Kyrin pointed out. She had stopped even pretending she was about to leave, leaning on the doorframe instead. "I'd say it's fairly obvious *something* is the matter with no training at all."

"True." He looked grumpy as he admitted something might, possibly, just *maybe*, be wrong. "I... am sneezing."

Hope nodded, "It's probably something very simple. Like a cold, or the flu."

Stryfe sniffed, "But I don't get sick."

"You know, I seem to recall him mocking Askani for stating the excessively obvious," Kyrin remarked conversationally to Hope. "On the other hand, the propensity of certain people to maintain what based on all the evidence is *not* might perhaps explain this somewhat."

"Mm. Maybe." Hope eyed him. "Stryfe, give me ten minutes with a sample and I can tell you for sure."

"A sample of *what*?"

"Well, I think at this point getting you to sneeze in the vial would probably be easiest. Or spit, if you don't feel like sneezing at the time."

Stryfe sneezed in answer to her comment, then held out his hand for the vial. He glared at it, as if had done him wrong, or maybe he just knew it would do him wrong by confirming that he had... a cold. He sneezed again, catching the resulting spray in the vial. "Here."

"Thank you." She held the container up, shook it, then pulled a bottle out of her medical kit and added a few drops from it. Another shake, and the colour of the mixture in the vial turned a blueish green.

"How cute." Kyrin leaned over to scratch the kitten playing with her boot.

Stryfe glowered at her.

"I meant the kitten," she said sweetly.

"I should hope so," he replied rather grouchily.

Kyrin gave him an amused look and flicked hair off his forehead.

"According to this," Hope said drily, "you have a cold. I'd have to check in the lab, but I bet I could name the virus."

"Why?"

"We noticed Tyler sniffling. I imagine it's the same one."

"Dayspring's child gave me a cold?" Stryfe sounded terribly outraged.

Kyrin laughed. "I told you kids carry all kinds of disease."

Hope snorted, "It will probably make its way through the entire palace." She sighed, "I shall have to stock up on vitamins."

"You seem decidedly calm about it."

"Well, it's hardly life-threatening. It doesn't even appear to be particularly debilitating. I can think of much worse."

"So can I." Stryfe muttered. Diamonde wandered over to him and set a paw on his leg. "Mrrr?"

"At any rate... I'll go check. You might as well stay put; I'm sure everyone -- except Kyrin, who to all appearances really doesn't get sick -- will catch it eventually, but there's no point letting you speed things up."

Hope disappeared. Stryfe eyed Kyrin unhappily.

She shrugged. "I do sometimes. Not more often than you claim, I think."

Diamonde dug a claw into his leg, and he absently started petting her. "Well, I didn't--*sneeze* --used to get sick."

"Mhmm." She scritched the kitten climbing across her lap. "At least you're not allergic to the cats."

"I wish I was."

"Why? This way all you really have to do is wait several days.  Nathan's even letting you off some of the chores."

Then he wouldn't have them around him, and wouldn't feel any sort of soft feelings for them. And he wouldn't feel this yearning need to have friends. He scowled, "No reason." And he might be able to shield his thoughts better, without the softness breaking down his mental barriers.

She studied him, then nodded, "Ah. So, tell me, do they have names?"

He blinked, "Names?"

"The kittens," she replied patiently.

"I only named Diamonde because Nathan --*sneeze* -- made me." He sniffed and tried to push the next sneeze back with the napkin.

"Oh." She tilted her head to the side, "So why not name the others?"

"Because Nathan hasn't made me," He said with a mulish look in his eyes.

"Should I suggest it? I'd think you'd rather *not* be coerced. Besides, you've already rather blown the idea that you aren't fond of them."

He sniffed into the napkin again. "Fine. Bloody, Kitten, Killer, Stupid, and Mangey."

She snorted, "I don't think so." She glanced at the two kittens stalking each other across the floor. "Try something more kittenish."

Stryfe opened his mouth again and then grimaced. "'Kitten' isn't -- *choo* -- kittenish?"

"Too generic."

"Well, then. One, Two, Three, Four and Five."

Kyrin snorted. "Which is which?"

"If I could remember what order they were born in..." He muttered.

"Hmm. Probably best to have waited until you were sure they had distinctive markings. It's not as if you can depend on them answering you."

"Then what's the --*choo* -- point?"

"The names are for you, not them."

"What if I don't care?"

She grinned. "Then they're for me."

"You name them then!"

"They're not my kittens." Kyrin patted his arm and looked thoughtful. "Perhaps a theme of some sort. You named the mother after a jewel...."

He sneezed again, then glared at the kittens. "Cinders, Graphite, Goldie, Sapphire and Emerald."

"Which is which?"

Stryfe considered groaning. "Sapphire is the darkest black one with shiny fur. Graphite is really a dark charcoal gray with black paws, and Cinders is the same but with lighter flecks." He stopped and wished passionately for another napkin as his nose began to feel stuffed with feathers.

Kyrin was on her hands and knees on the floor, studying kittens. He couldn't exactly ask her for help even if he had been inclined to -- which at this point he might have, if he'd thought she could conjure napkins out of the air.

He stuffed the current napkin under his nose and sneezed into it. As if finally giving up the ghost, the napkin squelched at him. He glared at it, then tilted his head back, fighting the flow of more liquid.

"Need another?"

She *had* conjured one from the air. He stared at her, then grabbed it just in time to sneeze again.

Kyrin sat back down beside him and patted his shoulder while he blew his nose and then tried to catch his breath.

"How'd you do that?"

She blinked. "What?"

"Pull a napkin out of the air."

"Ah. That." She grinned as a kitten hopped into her lap, purring. "Babies."

Stryfe looked confused, then sneezed again. "Babies?"

"Yes. They're always getting dirty, or drooling, or sneezing. It's good to have extra napkins around in times of need."

"Oh." He sniffled. "I feel completely ridiculous...."

"Don't." Hope was standing in the doorway, looking at them in amusement. "I just got done talking to Aliya. She thinks Nate has the cold, too."

Stryfe sneezed again, violently. "Serves him right."

--

Two days later, Stryfe was still sneezing and Kyrin had stopped by for another visit. He wasn't sure *why*. Hope had, however, cleared her as immune, and if she wanted to bring him tissues he had decided not to argue. It was embarrassing, but she was decent company for an Askani. And didn't laugh at him. Much.

"So which of the other two are which?"

"What?"

"Goldie and Emerald. I remember which are the other three, but you never got to those two."

"Oh." He pointed to the two kittens, "Goldie has little gold flecks in her brown eyes. And Emerald has green eyes."

She grinned. "How poetic."

Stryfe sniffed and eyed her suspiciously. "You're laughing at me."

"Not really. I like it."

"You like laughing at me? No surprise, Askani."

Kyrin swatted him. "I like the names and their rationale, then." She paused for a beat. "Although laughing at you is also entertaining."

"I knew it." Stryfe sniffed and dabbed at his nose with the new napkin, rather gingerly. It itched again.

"Sneeze."

"No."

"I can tell you want to. You keep wrinkling your nose to stop it."

He hrmphed, and dabbed at his nose again.

"It's not as if you *haven't* been, you know." She waved another napkin at him, "And sneezing is supposed to be good for you."

"Not when it keeps you up at night."

"You're not trying to sleep anyway right now." She eyed him. "At least, not very obviously."

He sneezed. "True."

"That's better."

"That's *sniff* arguable."

Kyrin rolled her eyes and patted his shoulder. "Don't be silly."

"I'm," Stryfe paused and wrinkled his nose, "not. It might be argued that YOU are."

"Oh, really." Kyrin sat back and folded her hands in her lap, looking amused. "How so?"

"You're... here."

"Yes, I noticed."

"And it doesn't seem silly to you that you're here, talking--well, laughing at--the Chaos Bringer?" He snorted, "Shouldn't you be loathing the very sight of me and plotting ways to kill me?

"Of course not. Nathan and Aliya want you alive, and I answer to them, first of all. In addition, you haven't really given me any personal reason to want to kill you. It's unwise to take happenings in war more personally than is unavoidable; otherwise eventually making peace is more difficult."

"I highly doubt your fellow Askani are as understanding." He muttered.

"Well, yes, actually some of my Sisters are of the opinion that the Askani'Son really shouldn't be keeping you around, and that doing so is really troublingly stupid."

Stryfe sniffled and reflected on the utter lack of dignity in this. "Actually, *I* think that, but I don't usually try to talk him into killing me."

Kyrin blinked at him. "...Usually?"

"That's right." Sniff.

"So, you try to convince him to kill you because...?"

"Because it's what I would do to him." Stryfe shrugged, then sniffled again and blew his nose. "Messily and bloodily."

"Would you give him a cold?"

"As revenge?"

"Well, I suppose that would be one explanation...."

"I was thinking of something more painful."

"Well, at least it's messy...."

"Don't remind me."

"I wouldn't think you'd NEED reminding." Kyrin offered him another tissue.

Stryfe glared at it, but the current one *was* getting... overloaded. He accepted the new one and promptly sneezed into it.

Kyrin patted his shoulder lightly. "Even if it *is* what you'd do to him, why would you want to persuade Nathan into killing *you*?"

"Boredom?" He suggested with a shrug.

"I've heard boredom described as deadly, but...."

"Frustration, then." He sighed. "I miss being powerful and doing things. Digging in dirt and washing dishes is not a productive day for me."

"I imagine sitting in a room and sneezing is even less so."

He sneezed. She *had* to rub it in, did she?

"Unfortunately, under the circumstances there isn't really much else they *can* do with you."

"I know." A kitten wandered into Stryfe's lap and plopped down with a sigh. He absently scritched her with his free hand.

"They can't exactly let you loose."

"I suppose not." He wiped his nose again and sniffed, hoping the latest sneeze-tickle would just subside. He wasn't very hopeful.

"You understand, then."

"I understand there's no sensible reason they're keeping me like this, but at least I haven't been imprisoned by people foolish enough to put me in charge of anything interesting." He sniffed again. "And you wonder why I occasionally try to talk them into killing me."

"...Yes."

"I'm doomed to life as a dishwasher and a... a cat-gym!" As if in response to his comment, two kittens chose that moment to climb Mount Stryfe. He sneezed, then glared at her.

Kyrin giggled helplessly. "There ARE worse fates. Would you rather be tortured?"

"...Not really."

Kyrin plucked a kitten who had dug her claws firmly into his arm at the sneeze, and cuddled it. The kitten, not the arm. "Good to know. I was getting concerned."

"Why?"

"Because. Isn't it obvious?"

He looked confused, "No."

"Because you seemed to have a rather disturbing idea of what constituted relative levels of unpleasantness?"

"Why should that bother you?"

Kyrin rolled her eyes. "It would spoil my fun if you did convince them to kill you? Of course, it won't work...."

"Your *fun*?"

"You're entertaining. Try to stay that way."

"Oh, yes, memsahib, anything you say." He snapped sarcastically.

"Calm yourself. I was mostly teasing."

Teasing. He'd *made* threats like that. He hadn't been teasing.

"Anyway." Kyrin glanced at the timepiece on her wrist. "I've got to go. Aliya wanted me to come by this afternoon."

She stood and removed the kittens from her person, "I'll come by in a few days. There's a group being sent as delegates to a border town, I may end up going with them."

"Oh." Like he cared. It wouldn't matter if she never came back. He wouldn't miss her. "Have fun."

The Askani put a hand on his shoulder for a moment before turning towards the door. "I hope you feel better."

Stryfe sneezed, and looked up as the door sealed itself shut. Oath. Any sensible prisoner would have tried to seduce the enemy woman and get her to let him out. Except that what was sensible in other contexts tended to be stupid when dealing with Askani.

***

Kyrin lightly tapped on the door, listening to the movement within. It sounded like the march of enemy troops for a moment, then a slight sniffle, and Stryfe calling out, "Come in."

She peered around the edge of the door and grinned. Three of the kittens were chasing each other around the room. And they were completely heedless where they ran. As she watched they galloped over the still-prone Stryfe, then skittered under his bed, then out again to tumble across the floor and land on her boots. "Morning."

"Is it?"

"I watched the sun rise on my way back." Kyrin's assignment had gone well and uneventfully, and she was now returning to intermittent babysitting/bodyguard duty, which suited her very well. So did the fact that her shift didn't actually start until afternoon, which meant she could do... this.

She closed the door carefully behind her and counted kittens. All present and accounted for.

"I wouldn't know." He fought down a sniffle, and hrmphed.

"Didn't sleep well?" she guessed.

"I slept very well, except every ten minutes when a kitten would pounce on some portion of my anatomy." He scowled. "I think I'm black and blue all over."

"Awww. Poor Stryfe." She walked over and laid a hand on his forehead. "Well, at least you're not feverish."

"...I'm getting well." It was awkward to lie on his stomach and have her feel his forehead, so he rolled onto his side, then scrunched up his nose in a desperate and unsuccessful attempt not to sneeze. "I shouldn't be -- be -- *choo!* -- feverish." Sniff.

"I should hope so, by now...."

He sniffled again.

"If it helps any, Tyler is completely well now. You should be soon, too."

"I am." He sat up, a martyred expression on his face. "I'm even well enough to be put back on a work detail."

"Uh-huh." She looked unconvinced, "And the sniffling?"

"I'm tired, aren't I. Kittens' fault." He glared at them. They had begun climbing Kyrin's legs industriously, though they kept falling off about waist-level.

She nodded understandingly. "And the sneeze was just because a bit of fur tickled your nose?"

He sniffled. "Of course." And it was doing it again. Of course. He sniffed some more.

"Mm-hmm." She didn't believe a word. "May I sit down?"

He shrugged, "If you want."

She sat next to him, careful to remove the kitten from the spot first. She stroked the creature for a moment before it squirmed away to pounce on a sibling. Stryfe sniffled again, and she handed him a tissue.

For a moment he didn't take it. Then another dribble began making its way to join the tickling fur, and he grabbed it.

*sneeze*

"So *have* you been assigned to a work detail again?"

He sniffled and debated whether he could answer without another sneeze escaping. "No." Well, that had worked... mostly.... He ventured to elaborate, and regretted it. "Not -- *choo* -- not yet."

Kyrin raised an eyebrow. "So eager to get back to it, then?"

"I'm bored." He was lucky not to sneeze this time, but he could feel it, hovering. Awaiting the right moment to erupt.

She laughed and asked sweetly, "Should I be insulted?"

Yes. Then she would go away and leave him in peace. But... he was bored. Company, even Dayspring's, was a welcome diversion. "I didn't mean you."

"Ah. In general, then."

"Yes."

"The kittens don't keep you entertained?" She watched him blink unhappily and added mischievously, "Or is the fur too much?"

He sniffled again as the tickle built, and wondered whether blowing his nose on the tissue would get rid of it. He'd stopped waking himself up quite as often as the kittens did, the past night or two, but mornings seemed determined to make up for the lack....

Kyrin patted his shoulder. "I'm sure you'll be given something else to do... reasonably soon."

"I can hope." The pressure in his nose was escalating, the need to sneeze rising as he fought against it. He was better. This was merely a cold, it could NOT best the Chaos-Bringer!

"Weeding, perhaps," she suggested brightly.

"Hate plants."

She studied him for a moment, then grinned mischievously. "I know! You could take shifts in the nursery."

Stryfe looked horrified, then cautious. "You're joking."

"Whyever do you say that?"

"No one," sniff, "in their right mind would leave their children with me unsupervised."

"Who said anything about unsupervised?"

"I'm sure finding someone would be difficult." He pointed out, "After all, I am the enemy still."

"I could supervise you."

"Aren't the children enough trouble on their own?"

"You're not trouble. Unless you like to eat paste, not share, and throw stewed peaches at people."

Stryfe pondered for a moment, "Well, the image of Dayspring covered in peaches is slightly frightening, but highly enjoyable."

"You may not throw stewed peaches at Dayspring."

He started to sigh, and the sneeze broke through. The sound echoed in the small room loudly. All the kittens paused in their travails to stare up at him in wonder. He glared at them and wiped his nose on the back of his hand.

"Yes, I think you'll fit right in with my other charges." Kyrin noted in amusement as she handed him another tissue.

Stryfe took it, glowering at her with the uncomfortable feeling that it was difficult to glower impressively with a runny nose.

Eyes tended to work better, for one thing.

"I am not a child." He wiped off his hand, so as not to give the Askani more cause than necessary for sarcastic comments, then blew his nose -- which *still* left him sniffling, and it started to tickle again.

"That isn't what I said."

"You implied it."

She shrugged, "You have to admit you act childishly on occasion."

"I do not." At least, he didn't have to admit it....

"Mhmm." She left that subject for the moment, absently stroking the kitten who'd collapsed in her lap. "But you still haven't answered me about the nursery assignment."

"What, are you suggesting I'd be given a *choice*, Askani?"

"Why wouldn't you be?"

"I'm a prisoner. They order me, I do it." He sniffed. "I had to wash dishes, remember?"

"Poor baby." She tickled the kitten under his chin, and elicited a soft purr.

Stryfe pondered, then decided to try a tactic he'd thought of earlier. "I purr."

Kyrin raised an eyebrow at him. "Really."

"Yes. If you stroke me the right way..."

"...Are you flirting with me?"

Stryfe raised a matching eyebrow. "You have to *ask*?"

"Ah... fair enough. *Why*?"

"Because I'm hoping to gain some level of favor or advantage by seducing you."

Kyrin blinked several times. Aside from the intrinsically disturbing aspects of that statement.... "Isn't it somewhat counterproductive to *tell* me that?"

"Not particularly. You are a telepath and, unfortunately, currently I might as well *not* be. Therefore I have to assume that you can tell if I lie to you."

"You know, Stryfe... currently, for an enemy, I am inclined to like you." She leaned closer. "I think you might want to consider dropping this particular strategem and its rationale if you would like to maintain that state of affairs."

Stryfe opened his mouth, then closed it again, somewhat disgruntled. He couldn't be *that* distasteful or she wouldn't keep turning up. He swallowed the inclination to complain. "Very well." Not wise to pursue after that sort of response.

"Good."

"You have to admit, it was worth a try."

"Not really."

The look she was casting him made him shut his mouth, swallowing his reply. Silence fell for a moment, as she studied him. Two of the kittens cavorted across the bed, claiming the space between them as their battlefield.

A third climbed up and tumbled into Kyrin's lap, sprawling happily in anticipation of a belly rub. It got one. "Why," the Askani asked after a long moment, obviously addressing Stryfe despite the fact that she was now looking at the kitten, "did you think it might be?"

"Well... you think I'm cute? It's a normal reaction for a prisoner?"

"Against a telepath?"

"...I'm an idiot?"

Kyrin pressed the back of her wrist against her mouth, not doing much in the way of concealment but at least a token effort against laughter. "I don't know, at least you were open about it."

"So I'm horrible at being devious." He sighed, "Or subtle."

"From what I've heard, your life was all about massive displays of Power, anyway."

"Yeah." Stryfe huffed, "Apocalypse wasn't much for subtlety. He liked his underlings to see his results."

"If they lived."

A flash of memory touched him, and he winced away from it. The image of a young woman buried to her neck in scorpions as a punishment for... something. All those scaly things crawling over her, chittering their tiny claws as they fought for the choicest morsels of her flesh. Tiny kitten teeth sank into his finger, and he winced, glaring down at Sapphire.

"While they lived, at any rate," he muttered.

Kyrin reached over and gently pried Sapphire's mouth open. "You already had lunch, little one."

Stryfe extracted his hand, a bit puzzled at the rescue (such as it was), and jumped when it brushed across Kyrin's.

She raised an eyebrow. "Somehow I don't think it'd be a very effective seduction if you flinched every time we touched anyway."

The kitten gave Stryfe a Look, then flopped backwards in his lap, purring and batting at nothing. Stryfe found himself dangling his fingers for her amusement. "Shouldn't you be going?" He asked, hoping to change the subject.

"Soon."

"When?" he asked irritably.

Kyrin looked amused. "Eager to get rid of me now?"

"If my company's that distasteful...." Stryfe realized somewhat belatedly that this would only have made real sense in an earlier context. He was not entirely sure it was fortunate that Kyrin appeared to understand anyway.

"So did anyone ever try that tactic on you?"

"Most were either to frightened of me, or hated me to the point of rather wanting death before their dishonour."

"Or didn't think it would work -- or does that qualify as frightened?"

"Probably."

A sound echoed in the room, and Stryfe blinked down at his midsection.

"Hungry?" Kyrin asked, amused.

"Apparently." He scowled at the kitten in his lap.

"Hm." Her eyes went unfocused for a moment -- either that or she had developed the ability to see through the far wall -- before she shrugged. "Close enough."

"...To what?"

"Mealtime."

Stryfe sneezed. "I wonder if they'll remember to feed me."

"Don't they always?"

"Yes."

"Then why ask?"

"Because I'm hungry."

Kyrin laughed at him. "Somebody's on his way. I asked a minute ago."

Stryfe looked rather startled. "Why?"

"Now that's a silly question...."

"Oh." He considered, "Would you like to have breakfast with me?"

"Certainly. As long as you're not going to turn it into another silly seduction attempt."

Stryfe stared at her for a moment, his cheeks actually reddening. He couldn't believe it. He, the Chaos-Bringer, blushing. "That wasn't on the menu." He replied stiffly.

"Good to know."

"That is NOT flattering," Stryfe grumbled.

It wasn't flattering that the Askani promptly doubled over in laughter, either, and he *still* knew better than to try attacking her.

Kyrin finally sat up, eyes still sparkling with mirth. "You *are* cute," she admitted. "I won't deny that. But I'm not going to get involved with a prisoner."

"That's a very intelligent decision."

"Thank you." Her eyes twinkled, "Now. Breakfast is here."

His stomach rumbled again as a knock came on the door.

Oddly, there didn't appear to be anyone there. Stryfe concluded that whoever was delivering breakfast must be invisible about the time Kyrin pleasantly thanked the air at something slightly above the level of her own head. It didn't answer, but the tray stayed and the door closed a moment later.

Sapphire noticed the tray, and seemed to be trying to decide whether to pounce at it or not. Especially since it was still up very high. She appeared to decide on climbing Stryfe, first, since that would give her height. Stryfe pulled her off his shoulder and set her on the floor. She protested with a squeak, then scampered off.

Stryfe eyed the contents of the tray and prepared himself for further kitten-assaults. This seemed to be one of the days apparently randomly selected for comfort food -- although alternatively that might have more to do with Kyrin.

It was probably fortunate that she took the tray and was the one setting it down when he sneezed again. Violently.

"Bless you."

"Thanks." He applied the tissue to his nose vigorously.

"You should be over that soon," she remarked. A kitten leaped at the tray and was gently deflected in midair and returned to the floor.

Stryfe opened his eyes and looked at her warily.

Kyrin sighed. "That was an observation, Stryfe, and one meant to be reassuring. It was not an order."

"Ah." He shrugged, "We should eat before it gets cold."

"Good idea."

Stryfe told himself firmly that he was going to enjoy this. Embarrassment was irrelevant. He had good food which was not being periodically adorned with kittens, and the reason for the latter characteristic was the Askani sitting across from him, who was, despite being Askani, an interesting conversationalist and certainly better than no company at all.

He did, however, wonder when he'd decided he wanted company that much.

--

In another palace, in another place, surrounded by yet another wasteland, sat a man not inconsiderably difficult to recognise. The white skin and dark hair would give him away, even if you couldn't hear the deep voice full of velvety undertones and a British slant.

He wasn't actually talking, currently. More, thinking, his chin in one hand as the elbow of his arm rested on the armrest underneath it. Dark and dire contemplations went on inside his head, ideas and plots, spiderwebs and intrigues. And all for a reason he used to be so certain about.

Now?

Now he isn't. The old Master is dead, and the children seem to play together well. But it could yet be that hope will die.

And for that, he will be ready.

--

Breakfast had come and gone, and morning had passed to afternoon. Nathan wasn't sure he was too happy about that, but at least he seemed to be sneezing less. Hope laughed at him every time she saw him, and Aliya was avoiding him, claiming she didn't want the plague. It was enough to drive a man to murder.

Or worse.

Perhaps he should go irritate Stryfe. Of course, Stryfe would be amused that Nate wasn't over the cold yet, but on the other hand, Nate was not power-inhibited or locked in a cell.

It sounded like a better plan than sulking in his room (as Aliya called it), or dealing with stupid paperwork.

Besides. Stryfe was probably bored.

"Good afternoon."

Stryfe looked up at Nathan's overly cheerful voice, then scowled and went back to watching Diamonde teach Cinders to pounce.

Her current target was a stray muffin crumb, left over from breakfast. It had hidden in a corner of the room until now, when Diamonde, being the loving mother that she was, batted it out into the open as bait. She'd had to hiss at the others as they variously attempted to pounce it and eat it.

"Hm. Hunting practice. Has she got you doing it yet?'

"I could teach her a few things." Stryfe muttered.

"You wiggle your butt before you pounce?

"Aren't you supposed to be in the infirmary or something?"

"Not sick enough." Nathan sounded gleeful about this fact.

"So, instead, you're wandering around infecting the rest of your troops. How charming."

"Nope. Only you."

Stryfe looked at him, eyebrow raised, "I've already gotten it."

"While I'd love to believe you were making yourself miserable expressly to deny me the satisfaction of doing it for you, I somehow don't think that's the case. So let's just leave it at the idea that I'm not infecting anyone useful."

"How magnanimous."

Nathan grinned cheerfully. "Aren't I?"

"If you say so."

"You said it first."

Stryfe blew out a breath and scowled more, "You've succeeded in making my day. Happy?"

"Delighted." Nathan sneezed.

"I'd offer you a tissue, but Kyrin didn't leave any." Stryfe almost sounded delighted by this fact.

"I have my own," Nathan replied with a sniff, although he didn't produce one. He looked thoughtfully at Stryfe. "Spending a lot of time around here, isn't she?"

"I hadn't noticed."

Nathan smirked. "You're either very unobservant or very used to her. Or so fond of her nothing seems like enough of her company?"

Stryfe deigned not to answer, instead burying his nose in the tissue as another sneeze erupted.

Nathan's mouth twitched. "Well, which is it?"

"She's vaguely distracting." Stryfe replied, diginity oozing from his pores.

"Mhhmm." Nate replied, "And the fact that she's rather lovely and seems to be nice to you doesn't add anything to that?"

"Nothing at all."

"So you'd still find her amusing if she threw things at you?"

"...probably."

"Hmm. Maybe I should suggest it."

Stryfe scowled at the kitten stalking the ball of fluff on the floor. "She'd do it, too."

"Yes, I rather think she would."

Stryfe eyed him. "Should *you* be noticing that she's lovely?"

Nathan smirked. "So that would mean you agree?"

"You said it, not me." He pointed out.

"So you don't think she's lovely. I'll remember to let her know."

"I didn't say that, either."

"Well, you either think she is lovely or isn't, Stryfe."

"...Why are we discussing this?"

Nathan sneezed, then shrugged. "Why not?"

"Because you should be running your kingdom."

"I'm sick, Aliya won't let me in my office until I stop sneezing."

"Smart woman."

"But you'd rather have me out there dying, huh."

"Yes."

Nate grinned happily, "Sorry to disappoint you."

"No. You aren't."

"Well, obviously. Sorry has no meaning, remember?"

Stryfe scowled at him. "What is, is. Askani teachings." He sniffed, "Weak teachings."

"We defeated you."

"By chance."

"Maybe."

Stryfe glowered. "The opportunity was, you have to admit, improbable."

"But you gave it. And we took advantage. There's always *some* element of chance."

They'd probably had this conversation a thousand times now. Well, hundreds. But Stryfe found that he was oddly exhilerated to have this common argument with the Askani'Son. As if, in some way, it was... home. Which was highly ridiculous. Of course, the Chaos Bringer having a cat with five kittens was even more ridiculous.

Nathan sneezed. "You'd be happy if I were allergic, wouldn't you."

"To me, yes."

"To the cats." He corrected with a grin.

"Yes, again."

"You're jealous that they like me." As one was currently sitting on his foot and purring, and Stryfe was glaring at it, this was a little hard to argue with.

Stryfe didn't reply, instead scritching the kitten perched on his leg with great attention.

Nathan smirked.

Stryfe looked at him, "What?"

"Oh... nothing."

Letting it drop, since he didn't feel like getting teased further, Stryfe sighed and leaned back against the wall behind the cot.

"Relaxed?"

"Probably."

Snorting, Nathan imitated him, mirroring the sigh and pose of relaxation perfectly.

Stryfe eyed him. "Copycat."

"Looked comfortable."

Stryfe grunted.

"I find it so," Nate continued. "You look a little unhappy still, though."

"You're here."

"Ah yes. I'd noticed that."

Stryfe closed his eyes, wondering if Dayspring would go away if he just ignored him in favour of sleep.

"Anything interesting in there?"

"In where?" He couldn't resist asking.

"Your eyelids."

He popped one open. "No."

Nate grinned infuriatingly, "So I'm more interesting?"

"No."

"Ah. Better go back to sleep then, you'll heal faster."

"Thank you." Stryfe closed his eye again.

Nathan didn't move.

"Go *away*, Dayspring."

"In case you've forgotten, this place is mine now."

"Yes, but you're usually slightly more considerate than this."

A shrug shook the cot slightly, "I don't feel like being considerate."

Stryfe eyed him. "Petulance doesn't suit you."

"I'm not being petulant."

"Oh." Stryfe opened his other eye. "Well, why won't you go away, then?"

"Do you give the orders here?" Nathan snorted, "I don't think so." He caught one of the kittens, "Besides, I like the cats."

"Of course." Stryfe sighed.

"You could just go to sleep with me here, Stryfe."

"No."

"Why not?"

Stryfe gave him a Look.

"Oh. Right. Captor, captive." Nathan gestured between the two of them.

"Yes." As if the reminder had bothered him, Stryfe stood stiffly and walked towards the door. "Leave."

Nathan sighed. "I don't," he pointed out gently, "take orders from you. But I assure you, if I wanted to kill you in your sleep, I would have gotten around to it by now."

"Good." Stryfe crossed his arms, "Please."

"The magic word," Nate smiled crookedly, "If it means enough that you're saying please, I guess I could."

Stryfe looked mildly hopeful.

"But, on the other hand..."

A knock came from the door, and both combatants blinked at each other before the door opened on its own accord. Aliya stood there, Tyler on her hip and her bodyguard behind. "Ah, there you are, Nathan."

Nathan slid off the cot and to his feet. "Indeed. You were looking for me, beloved?"

::Stryfe has been... projecting irritation. I figured I'd find you provoking him.::

He gave her an innocent look. ::Me?::

::Yes.:: She smiled at Stryfe, "Yes. I need you to take Tyler for a while."

"But I'm sick." Nathan pointed out.

"So was he."

"True." Nathan accepted the child, who made delighted noises.

A kitten pounced on Aliya's boot, batting at the tassle. She leaned over and scooped it up. "Hello."

"Mew." The kitten replied, then squirmed free and climbed onto her shoulder.

Aliya grinned and turned to look at it, a bit cross-eyed. The kitten batted at her nose, claws in.

"May I ask the occasion?" Stryfe inquired drily. "Obviously it's not *too* urgent...."

"Just another of the endless round of State Meetings. We'll probably spend three-fourths of it arguing over what type of table to have at the next one." She sighed and removed the kitten to the floor. "But, I must go. Table discussions, chair cushions, and cloth wall-coverings await our every command."

Stryfe stared at her. "You're joking. Of course, I almost hope you're *not*...."

"Maybe." She grinned at Nathan, "He's expected back in the nursery in about ten minutes. Hope may stalk you if he doesn't appear."

"What about Kyrin?" he asked, giving Stryfe an arch look.

The Chaos Bringer rather glowered at him.

"She's doing something in one of the wings right now." Aliya headed for the door, carefully dodging the playing kittens.

Nathan waited until the door closed to direct an amused look at Stryfe. "Too bad, then."

"I'm sure." Stryfe curled up on the cot, a kitten flopping immediately on him. "I suggest you go to the nursery. Please."

Studying the curled man for a moment, Nathan thought of pointing out that, really, he didn't have to do what Stryfe said. But there was a quiet exhaustion in the figure he made on the cot, so he didn't. Tyler gurgled as he stood, the child tucked under one arm. "I'll leave you to the kittens."

"Thank you."

"And I'll make sure to let Kyrin know you don't think she's lovely," Nate added as he stepped out the door, a telekinetic shield keeping the kittens from dashing out into the corridor.

Stryfe sighed as his captor disappeared. This provoked the kitten -- almost grown now, actually, but the generational distinction was convenient, or perhaps he just hadn't bothered to break the habit -- to walk over him and peer into his face.

Pathetic.

Nathan had left out of *pity.*

And he had encouraged the impression.

--

It was later in the evening, Tyler was asleep, and Aliya was stretched out on top of the covers happily watching Nathan get ready for bed.

He looked at her in amusement, "How'd that meeting go?"

"Fine. We decided on green tablecloths." She rolled onto her stomach and propped her chin on her hands, elbows placed on the bed below. "Why do you annoy Stryfe?"

"It's entertaining." Nathan paused for a moment, then added, "And he's a surprisingly good conversational challenge under the circumstances."

"Yes." She paused, trying to find a way to word what she was thinking correctly. "And, he's a prisoner. With a lot of enmity against him."

Nathan raised an eyebrow.

"And, I just worry. What if... What if someone decides to take matters into their own hands, and remove him. Permanently?"

"It hasn't been all *that* long since we'd have been delighted at the idea of *anyone* killing him," Nathan pointed out.

"Then why did you decide to keep him? We've spared as many as we could, but that's partly because most people have to take a side whether they want to or not...."

Nathan sighed. "I still have the feeling... that it's somehow my fault he was ever Apocalypse's, that I should have been able to do something -- I might have, maybe even without too much real mind-twisting, not that I really knew how back then -- when I was thirteen, but I dropped him...."

Aliya said quietly, "It was none of your doing."

"No, it wasn't. But I think I still should have *tried*." He sat down on the edge of the bed, looking into the past. "And I didn't."

She wrapped her arms around his waist and snuggled into his side. "Yes. But if you could change that, you would. Just like you would change other things, even the loss of your parents."

"At any rate... fair or not to anyone else, which it isn't, I didn't want to kill him out of hand." Nathan smirked faintly. "His distaste for Haight didn't hurt there, I admit. And we've kept him safely enough...." He stroked Aliya's hair. "I sometimes think it may be changing him -- not just the way being imprisoned normally would have to, that is. Maybe it's the cats."

"Maybe it's the good genes you inherited from him finally coming to the fore." She teased gently.

Nathan snorted. "And there we thought I'd taken them all."

"Do you think he'll ever trust us?"

"I think the real question is, do we ever trust him?" He sat further back on the bed, pulling her along with him. "I actually don't know."

"It's easy enough to scan him, as he is. The day I can't sneak past the shields on a damped psi without getting his attention...."

Whether that was ethical or not, the man they were discussing was a prisoner. Before the quirk of time that had allowed his capture, he'd waged war against them, and taken over the scattered remnants of Apocalypse's regime. Nathan half-smiled at her. "So, we wait."

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