Flerken, Flerkins, Flerkinis...
Raising a pride of Flerkens was hard work, yo.
To be fair, not in the first couple of days, when their main activity was to eat their own shell, which was sorta neat.
But after that, the kittens matured very fast: In three days, they got to four week kitty development.
Very much helped by the literal flerkins buffet station Goose had required (and got, because what would be the point of being Queen of the world otherwise?). Some babies already showed some marked preferences in food taste.
"That was fast."
"Flerkens are not cats, Anthony, but like cats, they are both predator and prey in this Universe, so they develop in stages, with a first big growth spurt, and then it's going to plateau for a little while. They'll grow very fast and then be the equivalent of six week kittens for almost a Terran year."
Tony looked at the small sea of furs in the room. A lot of them seemed to be happy to sleep in a pile, quite close to mom, but a few were already exploring their surroundings on wobbly legs.
One little black number, in particular, seemed very determined to follow Loki around on unsteady feet, no matter how many times the Trickster put him back in the pile.
"You have a fan, Reindeer games."
"Do not be ridiculous, Anthony."
Goose huffed, stretched, extracted herself from the pile, obviously looking for something, then went to fish out not one, but TWO more black little flerkins that were literal carbon copies of each other (including the original entrepreneur), and deposited all of them at the God's feet.
"Mreow."
The Flerkins looked up, mreped in excitement and promptly proceeded to escalate Mount Loki, setting on his shoulders and head after a short scuffle for dominance and purring up a storm.
It was not very often one got to see the God of Mischief speechless, but Goose managed it flawlessly, of course.
The black trio were the first, but not the only, ones who imprinted.
Every time Rhodey showed up at the tower, one serious faced grey kitty trailed him everywhere. Rhodet, Tony knew, was not a pet person, but Tony could tell his playtipus was warming up to the idea... As was Happy with his chunky British shorthair.
Pepper, on the other hand, had immediately welcomed the three marmalades who attached themselves to her.
"It is an honour to be choses, Tony"
That left 99 babies who were just happy to wander around... and get in trouble, sometimes in surprising ways.
Like the day the bespoke cat tree came in.
A few of the kittens did climb on the new places of UP, but most of the herd went, of course, for the boxes... even better, the big one with the all the packing peanuts which literary became the equivalent of a ball pit... Well, at least till a small tentacle grabbed a peanut, and munched on it.
And Tony soon learned that:
1-If one of the flerkins did something, all the others followed suit.
2-Corn packing peanuts made baby flerkens fart.
It was sort of fun, as said farts were a bit explosive and were the equivalent of bum hiccups... much to the kittens protests, but Goose was alright with it so Tony only low-key panicked.
Sort of.(okay, he was a total nervous wreck)
Up to the point, Goose sat on her pet, snagged her interpreter (since the stubborn Jotun refused to give her Allspeak. Saying Midgard wasn't ready for talking cats, if you'd believe that... Piffles.), and proceeded to explain that baby Flerkins were very sturdy and learned by experimenting. They may be inconvenienced from time to time, but it was how one learned.
Besides, the only place where there were a few things susceptible to impacts the kids was the lab, and Goose had marked it as their special place... And didn't Tony love her any more?
With a sad little meow for good measure.
Anthony was toast, of course.
Loki had to leave the room to laugh in private.
Someone who didn't find things funny was Barton.
Of course, Fury couldn't leave well enough alone, so he sent the archer to spy via the vents, which JARVIS detected in a millisecond.
"Sir, Agent Barton is crawling in the vents..."
Tony, who'd just been joined by Pepper on their way to a dinner date, sighed and began to take his jacket off, as the suit was hell on formal clothing. Not that Tony wouldn't be welcome in any restaurant in town even with a wrinkled to Hell and back jacket, but if he could avoid it, he'd rather. One had appearances and standards to maintain, after all.
"Oh, never mind. Have a nice evening, Sir."
"Neverming? What do you mean, Jarv?"
Instead of answering, JARVIS showed:
Someone else had heard Barton crawling around. Goose climbed up the highest cat tree, pushed the ceiling slab out of the way, listened for a few seconds... And let out a cat roar that was undoubtedly a call to arms.
The flerkins almost jerked to attention, and when Goose let out another roar, followed her in the vents.
"Incoming, Sir."
A few seconds later, there was a quite noisy stampede up the living room ceiling... And another a few minutes later, with some pained noises that could only have come from Barton.
Tony was slightly confused, and even more when he saw Pepper smile.
"Pep? What is going on? I could understand Goose trashing Barton, but why calling the babies?"
Pepper adjusted her date tie and jacket with a grin. "Oh, Tony, you silly Billy. Goose is being a good mom and is teaching the kids how to hunt."
"Miss Potts is right, Sir. It is exactly like that, and apart Mr Barton, everyone is having a very good time of it."
The obvious glee in his baby boy voice surprised Tony a bit. "You included?"
"I must admit there have been a few quite entertaining moments already. Have a nice evening, Sir. I will make a compilation of the best parts for when you come back home."
Tony knew when he wasn't needed somewhere, so he shrugged and offered his arm to a smiling Pepper.
"Dinner and a show, you know how to treat a girl, Mr Stark."
Clint was not having a pleasant evening.
He had no qualms about putting down Stark a peg or two, especially since the billionaire turned his nose at SHIELD and sided with Loki, of all people.
But he was beginning to wonder if Fury was making the right call in this instance.
The Director and Natasha seemed to be operating on faulty premises, though.
Both seemed to think the billionaire would be easy to manipulate and gaslight... Which had not worked all that well so far.
Clint didn't know about Fury, but he knew Natasha disliked the billionaire.
First because he was a mark, and emphasizing with your target was not the way to stay sane in their business... Second because he didn't fall for her, and Nat resented failure on a personal level.(success wouldn't have changed much, Nat fiercely despised the marks that fell for her tactics)
Now, Clint wasn't the sharpest crayon in the box. That was not his brain that had earned him his position at SHIELD.
Underestimating your opponent so badly was not the way to come out on top, usually.
And honestly, the little monsters had sharp claws and teeth. He managed to dislodge a few of the kittens... ESPECIALLY a couple that had got a bit too close to his balls for comfort and what was on those tentacles anyway, it itched something fierce?!
"Meow."
Clint raised his head and found himself face to face with an adult sized marmalade cat who didn't seem to be in the best of disposition.
"Oh shit..."
And then there were tentacles.