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It was whatever hour that demanded coffee, which could range from exactly twelve in the afternoon to three in the morning, and any and all hours preceding, inbetween, or after if you asked Five.
Little Miss Lady Voodoo Noir, better known as Klaus’ Black Cat -- the longhaired one in Five’s oh-so-secret mental catalogue, seemed to agree with him. At least, he assumed she agreed with him, as she hadn’t taken to… anyone except their dear, feline collecting, brother.
She had already shredded at least one of Luther’s overcoats, and had a particular fondness for hissing at Diego whenever he showed his face near her. She seemed to almost tolerate Vanya, until the woman tried to pet her or look at her for more than three seconds, and whenever Allison entered the room, Little Miss Lady Voodoo Noir felt it best to make certain her exit was known .
But Five? Five got the pleasant treatment of being shrieked at, whenever their paths would gross.
And so it was, that at whatever-fucking-hour-it-was, that he found himself at the Lady’s mercy once more, whilst he puttered about setting some coffee to percolate.
“Mraaaaaaaaaaow!!” She let her presence be known, as if he was ignoring her. He was simply giving a lady of her stature her space, but he nodded as if she’d said something wise anyway.
“It’s not too late for coffee, madame .” Like any sane person would, he found himself talking back to her. If she was going to be obstinately vocal, well… he was going to be impressively civil and not a soul would actually know that it was some sort of unspoken fight between human and feline.
“Mraow…” From across the kitchen, green eyes stared him down, lustrous tail twitching with the first sign of annoyance-- and he wasn’t even near her.
“You absolutely may not speak to my manager,” Five responded levelly, as if it were a perfectly normal thing to do, dragging a chair over to the cupboards and-- why hadn’t they rearranged these yet? Oh, right, that end of the world thing-- and grabbed a mug, bringing it back down to a perfectly normal and accessible level.
The cat narrowed her eyes at him in a distinctly human gesture that would have been unnerving had he not grown a tolerance for the strange and inexplicable, and she lowered herself to the kitchen floor in the best impersonation of a loaf of bread she could manage. A particularly elegant loaf of bread, if one was to be honest. “Mraow?”
“Why not?” Five tilted his head to the side as he considered the question, bringing the chair back to where it had been and hopefully erasing the evidence he’d needed help doing something so mundane . “Because she’s not here right now. Thank fuck for that.”
“Miau?”
“That’s a story for another time, I’m sure your father would like to embellish the retelling.” The coffee was done brewing, and he didn’t wait a moment for it to cool before pouring it into the mug he had grabbed, which no doubt had some weird novelty saying on it as the kitchen had become cluttered with kitschy coffee accoutrements ever since they’d managed to bring an espresso machine into the place, but the vessel wasn’t important. The scalding liquid was.
As if on cue, Little Miss Lady Voodoo Noir un-loafed herself, making a mad dash for Five’s ankles-- but he was ready for her, jumping away with scalding liquid in hand before her claws could catch his skin.
“You’re going to have to try better than that, Lady Noir, if you want to get me,” he spoke extremely calmly for someone who’s instinct had been to teleport to…. The kitchen table… to avoid a seven-pound ball of fluff and spite.
“Mraaaaow,” There was a hint of a growl in her voice, ears flattening against her skull. The tail twitch of annoyance was back, and Five simply took a sip of his coffee from where he stood, mildly hoping that none of his siblings would come in to see this, as is looked like he was afraid of a cat--- and that was preposterous , absurd, and definitely not what was going on.
“It’s not cheating if you’re using what you have. You have teeth and claws, I have travel.” Another sip from the still-freshly boiled coffee, and he couldn’t really feel his tongue anymore. A small price to play. “Shall we call this one a draw.”
“Mraow.” Five took that as an agreement, for the cat turned on her heel, tail held haughtily aloft, and vacacted the kitchen-- no doubt to return to her favourite person and impersonate an actual angel, or whatever terms of endearment Klaus wanted to give her today-- there were too many to count.