Darcy/Bucky/Natasha
It started out with little things. Darcy would come back to their apartment and Sir Pouncealot wouldn't be waiting at the door for her. But he'd turn up shortly after, tail high in the air as he trotted out of the master bedroom. And she'd reach down and scratch him under the chin, and he'd purr, and it would be good.
She'd had Sir Pouncealot since he was a kitten. She'd found him, tiny with his eyes still closed, and had hand-raised him, feeding him with an eye dropper and then with cat food- the good shit, too, sometimes it had been hard not to be bitter in college that Sir Pouncealot had eaten better than she did.
Now he was a sleek, slightly fat cat who loved sleeping on her feet and purred like a motorboat. Only lately he wasn't in bed when she got up in the morning. He'd come running in to see her when she stumbled into the bathroom, though, and maybe she was imagining it, but there seemed to be a slightly guilty look on his face.
She'd been lucky enough that he'd taken to her partners, she was a firm believer that a cat was the best judge of character. She'd been a little worried when she'd introduced him to James, and then Nat, but it was okay. Actually, the only person he hadn't liked was Ian, and of course with how that whole thing ended...
One day, though, she came home, and he didn't appear right away. And she waited by the door for a second, and he still didn't come running out to meet her. Her eyebrows drew down a little as she peered into the apartment. “Pouncy?” Nothing. He knew his name, would usually come when he was called. But not today.
She slipped off her flats, kicking them over by the wall, and moved across the carpet on her bare feet. “Pouncy?” Okay, now she was starting to get worried. Because Pouncy always came to meet her. What if he was stuck somewhere? What if he'd knocked something over and he was hurt? “Pouncy?”
She came to the living room, and James was there, watching something on TV. Cars, he was watching Cars again. Bucky was a sucker for Pixar movies. “Hey, have you seen Pouncy? He didn't come to the door.”
“Uh, yeah.” He gestured, and she walked over to the end of the couch so she could see what he was pointing at. Sir Pouncealot was curled up in his lap, pretending to be asleep.
Darcy could only stare. “You stole my cat?” she whispered, staring at the fluffy orange cat in her boyfriend's lap.
“No, he likes to sit with me sometimes.” Bucky shrugged, one eyebrow arching with clear curiosity.
“It's you! That's why he's not sleeping on me anymore, he gets up when you do!” Darcy folded her arms and glared down at the pair of them. She knew Sir Pouncealot wasn't sleeping.
“Yeah, he sits and watches me on the treadmill.” He looked up at her for another second. “What's wrong?”
Just then, Nat came out of the bathroom. Darcy looked over to see the concerned look on her face. “What's going on?” she asked, walking on near-silent feet down the hall towards them.
Darcy pointed to the traitorous animal. “Bucky stole my cat.”
Nat came to a stop beside her, gave a long look at Bucky and the cat, then back at Darcy. Darcy could see her lips twitching like she was trying not to smile. “I don't think that's what's happening.”
Darcy's arms unfolded, her hands resting on her hips in a fit of restless energy. “That's what I'm seeing. I mean, he doesn't sleep with me anymore, he didn't meet me at the door today. And I know he's awake, he's just ignoring me!”
Nat's hand came up to rest against her shoulder, moving soothingly against it. “He slept with you last night, I had to move him out of the way when I came to bed.”
Whoever went to bed first slept in the middle. Usually that was Darcy, just because Bucky didn't need nearly as much sleep as they did, and Nat was used to sleeping less. “But...” Darcy let out a sigh, her shoulders slumping. “He's my cat.”
“I know. But out of anyone in this room, who's the most like a cat?” Nat did have a point. Bucky had a lot of feline-ish tendancies. “I'm sure he still loves you, just maybe he wants some affection from another cat.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
Bucky lifted his arm from where he'd been stroking the large orange ball of fluff and draped it invitingly across the back of the couch. “Dinner will be about 15 minutes. Come sit down.”
Sighing again, Darcy shuffled around the front of the couch and dropped to the cushion beside him. His arm came around her, hand resting on her hip, and she couldn't help but reach over and scratch Sir Pouncealot's ears. His motorboat purr started almost immediately, and it made Darcy smile.
Nat came and sat on her other side, leaning over into Darcy's side until they were all cuddling together. Sir Pouncealot shifted until his chest and front paws were on Darcy's thighs, and she kept scratching behind his ears. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.
And when Darcy went into their bedroom and crawled into bed, it was only a few minutes before she felt the end of the bed shift under Sir Pouncealot's weight. He moved around before settling his furry bulk across her feet. Smiling, she closed her eyes.