Chapter Text
Grace just got done with his class, so he decided to walk along the beach with Rose rather than fly home carrying her like usual. As they're walking, they find you and Simon next to the water. You're contorting your feline body like a pretzel while Simon is struggling touching his toes. You're letting out little purrs of pleasure at the stretch you're getting while Simon is groaning like he's in pain. Grace can't help but chuckle at the display.
Rose runs up to you and starts stretching like you, showing no difficulty when copying you. She lets out a tiny giggle when she sees Simon struggling.
"Papa, why can't dada stretch like us?" Her little voice says. You snort.
"He's a fish. He's not made for stretching, sweetie," you respond, no strain in your voice.
"Fish," she echoes with another giggle. "Fishy dada." You chuckle at her words.
"Mhm, you have a fishy dada, fuzzy papa, and feathery daddy," you move your body to a simple lotus position to look at your daughter.
"I like my papas," she gives you a big grin, mirroring your actions. Grace walks over to Rose and pats her head.
"We like you too, sweetheart," he says before sitting next to you, letting his wings out.
"Woah, fluffy," Rose murmurs, reaching out to touch a long feather. Grace just laughs and lets her play with his wings.
You lean your head on Grace's shoulder, heart melting as you watch him bond with your little girl. You kiss his cheek before turning around and looking at Simon.
"How're ya doing, mulgogi?" You tease, calling him fish in his second language. He rolls his eyes.
"Better than you, cat," he mutters, clearly not doing better than you. You laugh, scooting forward and kissing his cheek.
"Sure you are," you say, very sarcastic.
Simon just grumbles something under his breath before giving up on stretching. Grace laughs a bit.
"I guess everyone on Earth was right; nobody can stretch like a cat," he taunts. You glare at him.
"We are not cats," you rumble. Grace quirks an eyebrow.
"You've never really told us what your kind is called," he explains. You sigh.
"I've told you already, my kind doesn't have a language. We just use sounds and gestures to show what we mean. We don't have a word for us," your ears go flat. "But we aren't cats. We're warriors, not fuzzy weirdos."
"Okay, warriors. You're cat-like warriors. That gives me something to work with, at least," Grace hums, thinking for a moment. "You're kind of like Tabaxi from Dungeons and Dragons," he offers.
"I'm assuming this is a human thing again?" You tilt your head. Grace nods. Simon shakes his head.
"It's an Earth thing. I hadn't heard of it until Ryland told me. It wasn't part of the cult," he grumbles.
"Yeah, I guess it's an Earth thing. It's a game where you role-play as different creatures with spells and stuff," Grace seems to light up more with every word. You blink slowly, trying to think of anything similar you had on CA1.
"So… Like angels with miracles?" You gesture to Grace. He looks at his wings like he forgot he's an angel.
"I mean, yeah, you could play as an angel, but there's so much more to the game than that," he ruffles his feathers a bit, accidentally knocking Rose over. He looks distressed, trying to help her back up, but she's just laughing.
"Yeah, I wouldn't worry too much about her falling over. Our species is built to withstand falls greater than that," you shrug.
"You guys really are like Tabaxi," Grace laughs, hugging Rose. She just lets out purrs mixed with giggles.
"Can the human thinking machine show me what you're talking about? Because I'm lost," you tilt your head, ears flopping over.
"Yeah, the computer can tell us about DnD," he shrugs.
Over the next half hour, Grace shows you everything about Tabaxi on the computer in the cabin. You learn their lore, stats, and all sorts of other things that tire your brain out. At some point you scoff.
"What?" He asks.
"We're way stronger than those things," you point at the low strength score on the screen. Grace nods.
"Yeah, I am well aware of your strength. That's why I said you're like Tabaxi, not that you are Tabaxi," he explains. You hum in thought.
"I suppose you could call us Tabaxi, they seem like semi-accurate warriors. Weak warriors, but warriors nonetheless," you shrug.
You saunter back outside only to chuckle at Rose showing up Simon in yoga. She's doing what's consider advanced stretches by human standards without even shaking, while Simon is just laying on the ground, having given up at this point. You can tell they've been at it for a while. You walk over to the two.
"Hey, Rosie. What's going on?" You stifle a laugh.
"I'm showing dada what he should do," she explains, rolling forward into a sitting position. You squat down to her level.
"Your dada isn't as flexible as we are, hun. If he tries what you're doing, he might get hurt," you pat her head. She lets out a happy noise.
You look over at Simon who's still laying on the ground, unmoving.
"How're you holding up, Si?" You snort.
"I might be dying," he grumbles. You stand over him.
"You'll be fine," you say as you lay down next to him. "Wanna go back in the water?" You ask, playing with his hair. He just sighs.
"No," he leans into your touch. "I'd rather be laughed at by the kit than go back into the water alone," he mumbles.
"I could join you," you offer.
"I thought cats hate water," he muses. You roll your eyes.
"I'm not a cat. I actually rather like water," you explain.
"Fine, you can join me, but we're doing things my way," he smirks. You just quirk an eyebrow.
"Hey, Rose. Go hang out with daddy, okay?" Rose nods and runs off to the cabin.
You pick Simon up, tossing him into the water before diving in yourself. You have to work pretty hard to stay afloat due to your dense musculature, but you manage. Simon chuckles, swimming circles around you.
"You may be flexible as hell, but you can't swim for shit," he mocks. You just grab him, holding him against you while kicking your legs to stay afloat. "Dammit," he mutters.
"I may be slow in the water, but I'm still stronger than you, Si," you remind him. He just sighs and lays his head on your shoulder.
"Fuck you," he says with no real bite.
"I mean, if you insist," you joke. He chokes on air.
"Horny ass cat," he grumbles after catching his breath.
"Still not a cat," you bite his ear.
"Fine, furball," he smirks. You dunk him underwater. It doesn't affect him, he can breathe on land and underwater, but it does remind him just how much power you hold over him. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't turned on by your strength.