Chapter Text
"Dennis?" You call, stepping into the early morning light, shaking the bag of dried anchovies. "C'mere!"
You scan the trailer park, spotting a flash of orange dart behind someone's latticed raised porch. "God fucking damn it, Dennis!" You yell, clearing your steps in one jump, skidding a bit on the gravel as you hurry over.
You peek around the trailer, spotting Dennis happily munching on some tall grass.
"Hey bud," you whisper, crouching down to gently shake the bag of dried fish, "c'mon," you plead, creeping forward, Dennis glances at you, before continuing to munch on the grass. "Please," you beg, "I need to go to work -" you're close enough to grab him, but your left foot slips and gravel bites into your knee as Dennis scampers off. "Shit!"
You push yourself to your feet, jogging after him, towards the royal blue trailer across the street from yours. "You little shit!" You shout, "I swear to Christ Dennis!"
"Who's Dennis?"
You startle at the question, nearly dropping the bag of treats, as you glance at your neighbour, with absolutely no idea how you missed him - the guy was huge.
Oh god, how long had he - shit, Peacemaker - been standing there? Did he see you fall?
"Is he your kid?" Chris wondered, and you're briefly distracted by how well he fills out his green Henley, and you shake your head.
"No, he's my cat," you huff, suddenly remembering that you're not wearing a bra under your sleep shirt and you tighten your cardigan around your body.
"Your cat?" Chris repeats.
"Yes," you peek around the corner of Chris' mobile home, silver star glinting in the morning sun. "Dennis," you call, fishing a treat from the bag, "C'mon buddy," you beg, and you hear a familiar chirp, and your face brightens as you spot him, standing at the back door of fucking Peacemaker's mobile home.
"Jesus Christ," you stumble back, right into Chris, "is that a fucking bald eagle?" You sputter.
"Yeah," Chris nods, settling a hand on your waist to steady you. He slips past you, clicking his tongue, and Dennis glanced at Chris. "Hey buddy," he greets, leaning over to scoop him into his arms. He stares down at your cat, "you don't look like a Dennis." Dennis let's out a little ech, as Chris made his way back to you.
So this is where Dennis was scampering off to every morning? The gaudiest damn mobile home in the park, with a superhero and his pet eagle?
You laugh out loud, taking Dennis from Chris. "I'm so sorry," you apologize.
"Don't be," Chris smiled, eyes crinkling and you swallow.
"Does your bird eat treats?" You wonder, shaking your bag of dried fish.
"He does, although usually they're fresh, but he's, uh," Chris' eyes drop to the low v neck of your sleep shirt, "not picky."
"What's his name?" You wonder, tucking Dennis into the crook of your arm, and he's already snoozing. You never would have imagined your cat being so chill a massive predatory bird - and you grab a handful of small fish.
"Eagly," Chris explains, and you quirk your head, trying not to laugh. "I thought about calling him Bill, but there's already two that live in the park and I thought it'd be confusing."
You laugh, glancing at Eagly, who's currently preening himself in the doorway.
"Hey baby," you coo, hoping a bald eagle wasn't that different from a house cat. "You wanna treat?" Eagly pauses when he hears the word treat, and you toss him a dried fish and it bounces to his feet, and for a moment the bird just stares at it before bending down to nibble at it, before gobbling the minnow down with a crunch.
"You like that?" You smile, missing the way Chris is staring at you, at the expanse of your thighs as you bend down, fishing out another handful of treats.
"There you go," she laughed, as the treats rained down around Eagly. "That's a good boy."
Chris made a strangled noise and you glance at him, brows furrowing as he avoids your gaze.
"Sorry," you blurt, "I need to get to work," you were already late and was going to be in so much shit. "Thanks for helping me find Dennis," you smile, reaching out to snag his sleeve. "I'll try to make sure he doesn't get out again."
"Oh, that's okay. Eagly likes him, and he doesn't usually play well with other's."
"I just don't trust Mrs. Jeffries' chihuahua -"
"Oh, fuck no, that little dog is mean."
"Right?" You bite your lip as the sun catches Chris' eyes and you point towards your place.
"I'm gonna go," you feel heat flush across your chest.
"Hey," he catches your arm, "uh, what's your name?"
You tell him, and he smiles, and it's so damn endearing that you huff a laugh.
"My name's Chris."
"I know," and his brows draw together, "you're on the news all of the time, and your mask only covers half of your face."
"It is more for the aesthetic -"
Your phone buzzes to life in your pocket, "shit," you pull it out, waving as you hurry out of Chris' backyard.
"Yes, sorry, I had a family emergency, I'll be there in ten minutes."