It was rare for Scott to have a day like this.

No missions. No emergencies. And, for once, his mind wasn’t a battlefield.

So you made a decision. Scott Summers was officially unavailable for the entire day, and you made sure everyone knew it. No interruptions. No “just one thing.” Today was his.

You left early. Breakfast first, something warm and simple. Then a slow walk through the city, no rush, no agenda. And finally, your favorite stop.

The cat café.

You were a regular there. The kind of regular the staff recognized on sight. The cats were well cared for, the space was cozy, and the merch was dangerously tempting. Tiny cat-shaped earrings, bracelets, crystal necklaces you absolutely did not need but always admired anyway. The moment you walked in, one of the employees smiled and started making your usual drink without even asking.

They looked surprised when you brought Scott with you this time, but welcomed him easily, took his order, and got you both signed up for the cat room.

When your time came, drinks in hand, you stepped into the quiet side room filled with soft light and wandering paws.

It didn’t take long.

Scott was seated on the floor when an orange cat promptly climbed into his lap and decided that was its home now. No negotiations. No escape. Meanwhile, a sweet little calico had curled up against you, snuggling so close it felt like a dramatic plea for constant affection.

You scratched behind its ears as it purred like a tiny engine.

Scott looked down at the cat in his lap with a wide, unguarded grin, the kind you rarely got to see. The orange cat stared back just as intensely, then gently reached up and batted at the edge of his ruby visor like it was deeply offended by it.

“It’s staring at me like I owe it money,” Scott said, amusement thick in his voice, “and treats.”

The cat flicked its tail in agreement.