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Description
Chapter 3

A hot August sun was slowly baking New York City into oblivion. Mouse trudged into the warehouse, sticky sweat clinging to her. Her fair skin was red, especially on the back of her neck and arms. The bag felt extra heavy today, and she dropped it on the floor on her way to the sink in the corner. Pulling an empty bottle from her bag, Mouse filled it with brown water that came from the rust-covered spigot. She gulped it down, despite the fact that it would probably make her sick again. But it was wet, and not too warm, and at the moment, that was all she needed.

It had been a long day. Moving over to her spot, Mouse practically collapsed on the floor, laying on her side. Her breathing was a little strained. It was Wednesday, and on Wednesdays she made the extra hike up past the parish to the old supermarket. They threw their milk out in the mornings, and Mouse knew that if she got there early enough, she could get a small container, still cold.

This morning, she had managed to snag a milk, but the day was already hot. So she had chugged it down too fast, and an hour later, had thrown it all back up in an alley. After that, it was just a slow, weary walk through her cycle of stops. She had managed to find some Oreos for Otto, though she suspected they were probably half melted by now.

Curling up in the shadow of the crates, she panted and closed her eyes, waiting for the funny feeling in her head to go away.

Otto hated hot weather. He especially hated it now, when the actuators whined about the heat affecting their processors. The warehouse had never heard of such a thing as climate control, and he had to wear his long trench coat in order to get into anyplace cool enough to tolerate. No wonder the upper crust of society had always migrated out of the cities when summer came. New York was a goddamn hothouse, with every window and square foot of concrete and asphalt catching and reflecting the heat.

He was thinking longingly of the old days, when he worked in an air-conditioned lab and Rosie would stop by with iced coffee in tow and the actuators were wondering if their circuits could handle a dunk in the river when they clambered back into the relative cool of the warehouse. He'd managed to rig a few fans so there was at least some air circulation, and the windows were covered to keep sunlight out, but it was still quite warm inside.

mouse is here Flo said, chirping and swiveling to point her-- she'd begun to insist on feminine pronouns, and her brothers on masculine ones- camera towards a stack of crates. what is she doing is she sleeping

"I don't know," Otto said, heading towards the child. He stared down at her in surprise. She was horribly burnt, but too pale under the burn, and when he reached down to touch her cheek, it was cool and clammy. "Mouse?" he said, "Mouse, it's Otto."

Mouse whimpered and pulled away from the added heat of the hand on her face. Her throat was dry again, despite the water she had drunk. Her head still felt like it was trying to float away from her, and her muscles felt tight and hurt. Her clothes stuck to her, and she thought she just might be sick again.

He directed Flo and Mo to scoop her up and take her to the sink, were they wet a cloth and gently pressed it to her face, neck, and wrists to try and cool her off. How long had she been in this state? She shouldn't be out wandering the streets in this weather...

The sudden movement made Mouse's stomach lurch, but then there was a glorious coolness. Leaning into it, she made a soft sound of happiness.

After a few minutes, she looked up at Otto, and gave him a grateful smile. No one ever took care of her, but he was, and it meant so much to her. Precariously balancing on the edge of the sink, she leaned over and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug of thanks. She was starting to feel better now--still tired, but not quite so sick.

Otto froze at the hug; it still felt so strange. The last person who had hugged him was Rosie, and she had been dead for months. Hell, Rosie was the only person who hugged him. But now Mouse did too. The hug felt strange to Mouse too--at least, not being shoved away or hugging someone who reeked of the drug house. Her mother rarely tolerated her hugs anymore.

He looked down at the child and tentatively stroked her hair as the actuators kept dabbing at her. Wet as she was, she was making his coat soggy. He didn't especially care though, as it cooled him off.

Flo picked her up and sat her back on her feet, nuzzling her neck and draping the cloth across the back of her neck. Mouse was a little unsteady on her feet for a moment, but she gripped the sink, and sighed. After a moment, she was able to let go, and went over to her spot on the floor. She pulled Otto's oreos out of her bag, and offered them to him with a sheepish smile. She wasn't sure how good they would be now. He accepted the cookies with a slight nod- he still had no idea why she felt so compelled to bring him things- and set them aside.

Taking the cloth from her neck, she wiped her face, glad to be rid of the icky feeling. She sat on the floor, resisting the urge to lay down. She was still damp, and laying down now would just mean picking up all of the dust onto her clothes.

Larry nudged a chair over for Mouse to sit on, then went to the fridge they'd managed to jerry-rig and pulled out some cold water. Adding some ice to the battered cup, he handed it to Mouse.

"Drink all of that," Otto said curtly.

Mouse ducked her head, smiling at the order behind her hair. This was why she liked Otto. He tried to be gruff with her, but she could tell that he wasn't really. He was a good man.

She sipped the water, trying to resist the urge to gulp it down. Better to make it last, on a day like today. Mouse watched Otto go back to his desk, fiddling with whatever it was he was doing. Her damp hair hid her face, but she liked to watch him.

When she was finished with the water, she toyed with the cup a minute. "Th-thanks, Ot-to," she said softly. The words came to her unexpectedly, but for once, she felt no reason to hold them back. He had helped her, after all.

Otto jerked with surprise at the sound of the soft voice, scattering wires and screws. The actuators chattered, darting about to tidy the mess and scolding him for making it. Though Larry seemed quite pleased to hear their little guest speak.

He turned and smiled at her. "So, you do talk," he said. It had been quiet, and stuttering, but it had been actual audible speech. And she'd spoken to him. He had very little familiarity with the psychology of children, particularly troubled ones, but it had to be a good sign that she'd spoken to him. "You're welcome, Mouse."

She gave him a shy smile. Setting the cup aside, she folded her arms and laid her head on the crate next to her chair. A nap sounded very good right now. Just a little one. Closing her eyes, she listened to the familiar sounds of actuators and puttering. Strange, how they had become familiar so fast. But she liked it. It made her feel safe.

Harry and Larry wadded up a blanket and tucked it under Mouse's head. The actuators nuzzled her cheek before pulling back to Otto.

Otto watched the proceedings with slightly narrowed eyes. Never had the actuators acted so... affectionate. They were protective of him, of course, and did their best to make sure he took care of himself, but that could easily be explained as simple self-interest. If Otto died, they died too. The way they were treating Mouse, with exquisite care and what could be seen as actual kindness, was far different. They seemed to be developing more than just higher intelligence. They were developing a sort of empathy.

So strange...

Mouse snuggled against the comfort of the blanket, falling into a deeper sleep. She stayed in that position for the next several hours, until after the sun had started to set and twilight had fallen.

The child woke with a jerk, a little sore from sleeping bent over. But she felt much better, especially now that the day's heat had passed. It was still warm, but she had cooled off.

Then she realized how dark it had gotten outside. Her eyes went wide. Now she'd have to brave the streets and get through the den of junkies, neither of which were easy feats at night.

With a small squeak of surprise, Mouse bonded up, snatching up her bag and nearly tripping over her oversized shoes in her haste to try and get to the door; Remembering Otto's trouble moving, Mouse hurried back over and pulled the chair over to Otto and his work station.

Otto had taken the opportunity to doze away the midday heat, but he woke at the sound of the chair scraping across the floor. He blinked owlishly behind his sunglasses, peering around for Mouse. She was returning the chair to its usual place by the table he'd been napping at.

"Going home?" he asked.

Mouse nodded, looking a bit worried. She cast a glance out of one of the few uncovered windows, and grimaced. Yep, she would have major trouble at home. Everyone would be inside. And if they were inside, then that meant...she shuddered. That meant it was going to be a very bad night.

She sighed, and pushed down the urge to curl up and cry. It wasn't the first time. She would just have to deal with Stevie like she always did--by trying to pretend that she was somewhere else.

Picking up her bag again, she sat her cup on Otto's table, and gave him a wave.
Flo fed him the image of her shudder, which he might otherwise have missed in the gathering darkness. She looked like she was trying not to cry at the thought of heading for home. Otto didn't blame her, having a fair idea of what it would be like for her there. It would be far worse for her than it had ever been for him.

That did it. He could not, in good conscience, let her go home tonight.

'I'll take you there," he said, getting to his feet. "Unless you'd rather stay here. Would they miss you if you didn't go home tonight?"

Mouse paused, biting her lip as she thought. Did she dare? They probably wouldn't miss her. In fact, she was almost certain they wouldn't. But Mouse had never thought to stay out after dark before.

But this was different. She wouldn't be alone, she would be with Otto. It was safe here. She shook her head--no, they wouldn't miss her. Hope lit up in her eyes. Could she really stay here?

He smiled, the corners of his brown eyes crinkling a little with relief. Even one night away from home might do her some good. It would set him more at ease, at least.

"You can stay, Mouse," he told her, reading the question mingled with the hope in her eyes. "I'll get us something to eat." The actuators were reminding him that even if he could ignore hunger pangs, Mouse certainly couldn't afford to skip meals. "Do you like Chinese?"

Mouse shrugged. She remembered having Chinese with her gran when she was little, but that was a long time ago. Chinese food places weren't good for scavenging--they threw out a lot of food, but none of it packaged. So she normally skipped them.

Still, the restaurants always smelled good. So she nodded as well. Sure, she would love to try Chinese food.

"Alright then, I won't be gone long," he told her. "Make yourself a place to sleep- a comfortable one, mind. Use whatever you need, but don't touch anything in the lab area." Otto gestured to the space he'd set up for his continuing research. The desk currently was strewn with bits of burned, twisted scrap metal, scavenged remains of the first reactor that he'd been trying to analyze.

Grimacing a little at the need to wear the thing, Otto put on his trench coat and tucked the actuators inside, then limped out of the warehouse.

Mouse nodded her understanding, and watched Otto go. Taking the blanket the actuators had rolled up earlier, she spread it over the area where she usually sat. She propped her bag against one of the crates for a pillow, and pulled a small ragged bear out of it. Mouse had started carrying Tonto around with her, to keep him safe. She didn't like the idea of him being home by himself. Better to stick together.

Setting the bear on a crate, she bent over and started whispering in his ear. He had not met Otto yet, so she thought it was better to warn him about the actuators before he saw them, so that he didn't get scared.

Otto returned a while later carrying several plastic bags of Chinese food, having ordered a variety of dishes as he didn't know what might appeal to Mouse. He hadn't even needed to steal it, either- he had a decent supply of cash that he was working on investing, and he was planning to get some patents under a false name. Then, of course, there was still some leftover from his bank heist...
He and the actuators started pulling out cartons- rice both steamed and fried with little shrimp, potstickers, sweet'n'sour chicken, beef with broccoli, and mushu pork, a dish rather like a Chinese burrito that he was particularly fond of- while Flo fetched plates for them both and a fork for Mouse. Otto preferred chopsticks himself.

"Help yourself," he told Mouse, spearing a potsticker on one chopstick.

Mouse's eyes went wide at the sheer amount of food Otto laid out. Not even when it had been her and her mommy and gran did they ever pull out so much at once. Of course, the junkies munched on a ton of food every day, but Mouse rarely braved the kitchen at home. She got enough for herself during the day, but that was it.

Biting her lip, she carefully forked a little bit of everything onto her plate. She didn't use a fork very often--most of what she got out of the bins could be eaten by hand. Wrapping her whole hand around the fork, she awkwardly scooped food up. When she was ready to start, she carefully speared a piece of chicken. Her eyes went wide as she tasted it. "Mmm." She couldn't remember the last time she'd had anything half this good.

Otto grinned at her, glad to see her enjoying herself like this. Maybe if he could get a couple of decent meals into her, it would help. She was entirely too small for her age.

"Good, isn't it?" he said, piling fried rice onto his own plate. "Chen's is pretty nice. Wish I'd known about it before I wound up in Hell's Kitchen."

Mouse nodded, grinning widely and swinging her legs in her chair. Yes, it was all very good. She took Tonto from her lap, and sat him on the table next to her plate. It was too bad he couldn't enjoy the food too. But maybe he could at least enjoy the smells.

She merrily ate on her food, enjoying the different flavors. It was nice to have hot food for once. Picking up an extra set of chopsticks, she tried to figure out how to hold them and pick up food with them like Otto was doing. It was confusing, and she couldn't get it to work right. Still, it was much easier to find sticks than forks sometimes. She could understand how someone might like using sticks instead.

Mo chittered, watching Mouse try to figure out the use of chopsticks. Otto grinned at the sight.

"Like this." Reaching over, he gently rearranged her fingers on the bamboo sticks, and showed her how to open and close them. "It takes some practice."

Now Mouse's face was screwed up in concentration. With a child's intense focus, she carefully picked up a piece of chicken and got it in her mouth with the chopsticks. Her face lit up at the accomplishment. That was perhaps the best piece of chicken of them all.

She grinned at Otto, bouncing a little in her seat with excitement. This was officially the best night of her life. Ever.

He liked having Mouse around, he decided. She was a good kid, despite her crappy background. She deserved better than what she had.

He grinned back at her, actuators chirping encouragement. "Nice job," he told her, picking over his rice with his own chopsticks. Rice was a bit trickier, with all its discrete little grains.

Otto's praise made her duck her head a little, her smile turning bashful. Spreading out a napkin next to her plate, she sat aside a few pieces of the sweet and sour chicken. It wouldn't be as good without the sauce, but it was the least messy, and wouldn't be bad cool.

Wrapping up the napkin, she put it in one of her pockets, and went back to what was on her plate. The chopsticks were fun, but after a little while she went back to her fork. Food was getting cold while she played with the chopsticks.

It didn't take long before she was full. Mouse looked at the rest of the food wistfully. This food was so good...she wished she could just keep eating it. But she was already more full than usual.

He was concerned for a moment at how little she'd actually eaten, but then belatedly remembered that she would, of course, eat less if she were used to small rations. It was normal- and forgetting that spoke to just how little he'd actually paid attention to his biology courses. He'd taken them, and royally messed up the bell curve in the process, but his focus had always been on chemistry and physics and engineering.

"You don't need to put it in your pocket," he said as Larry picked up a napkin and wiped sauce off her face. "It'll go in the refrigerator for breakfast."

It was weird to have someone--even a machine--taking the care of her. She sat still as Larry wiped her face. Pulling the napkin from her pocket, she sat it back on the table.

Picking up Tonto, she settled the bear back in her lap. There were fortune cookies with the food, and she snaked a hand out to get one. Smiling, she unwrapped it, and cracked it open. She couldn't read well enough to understand her fortune, so she handed it to Otto, and ate the cookie.

Obediently, Otto took the slip of paper and read it aloud. "A mysterious stranger becomes a positive force in your life." He chuckled and handed the paper back to her. "Well, I hope that's true for you, little one."

Mo eyed the bear curiously, not sure what to make of it.

it is a bear right doesn't look like one poorly anthropomorphized why does she keep it around

'For comfort,' Otto thought. That bear would be one creature that never hurt her.

did you have a bear

He blinked, startled by the question.

'No,' he thought back. 'It was a stuffed Rottweiler.'

Mouse smiled, and pushed one of the other cookies towards him. She took her fortune back from Otto, and folded it, tucking it into the pocket of Tonto's vest. Yes, it was true. A stranger had made a difference in her life. A most wonderful difference.

She sipped her drink--it wasn't very often that she got soda. It was good and cold and sweet. She was used to drinking things lukewarm, and this was the second time today she had something with ice in it. Mouse was half afraid nothing else would seem quite so good after tonight.

you know these are general not real ridiculously ambiguous to be warped to any situation

Of course he knew that. But it would make Mouse happy.

"Love is waiting around the corner," he read, and bit back a derisive snort. Highly unlikely, that.

Mouse nodded, thinking it over. Yes, someone would fall in love with Otto. She had a good feeling about that. He was a nice person. Why wouldn't someone fall in love with him?

She watched as the actuators started putting the food away. It was always interesting, how easily they moved. Slipping off her chair, she went over to her bag, and pulled out her notebook. Settling on the floor with Tonto next to her, she started to draw. Otto settled back at his desk, and after several long minutes, she tore out the picture and brought it to him. It was of a man with four actuators, and a little girl. Both were smiling.

"For me?" he asked curiously. It was a typical child's drawing, a little shaky, but the subject was clear enough. He touched the penciled lines with a fingertip, tracing them. "Thank you, Mouse. This is the sweetest thing anyone's done for me in a long time."

She smiled at him, and wrapped her arms around him in a hug. He was the sweetest thing to have happened to her in a long time too.

Larry came up to nuzzle her, and Mouse patted him on her way back to her blanket. Otto was working, so she wouldn't distract the actuators with her ball right now. She pulled out a picture book, and sat Tonto in her lap so he could see it too. It wasn't easy to read in the limited light of the warehouse, but she knew this story by heart anyway, so it didn't matter.

Yes, Otto thought, he liked having Mouse there. She reminded him that he was something more than Doctor Octopus, the man with the metal tentacles. She reminded him that he was still human.

If only she didn't have to go back to that horrible place...

Description
Chapter 3

A hot August sun was slowly baking New York City into oblivion. Mouse trudged into the warehouse, sticky sweat clinging to her. Her fair skin was red, especially on the back of her neck and arms. The bag felt extra heavy today, and she dropped it on the floor on her way to the sink in the corner. Pulling an empty bottle from her bag, Mouse filled it with brown water that came from the rust-covered spigot. She gulped it down, despite the fact that it would probably make her sick again. But it was wet, and not too warm, and at the moment, that was all she needed.

It had been a long day. Moving over to her spot, Mouse practically collapsed on the floor, laying on her side. Her breathing was a little strained. It was Wednesday, and on Wednesdays she made the extra hike up past the parish to the old supermarket. They threw their milk out in the mornings, and Mouse knew that if she got there early enough, she could get a small container, still cold.

This morning, she had managed to snag a milk, but the day was already hot. So she had chugged it down too fast, and an hour later, had thrown it all back up in an alley. After that, it was just a slow, weary walk through her cycle of stops. She had managed to find some Oreos for Otto, though she suspected they were probably half melted by now.

Curling up in the shadow of the crates, she panted and closed her eyes, waiting for the funny feeling in her head to go away.

Otto hated hot weather. He especially hated it now, when the actuators whined about the heat affecting their processors. The warehouse had never heard of such a thing as climate control, and he had to wear his long trench coat in order to get into anyplace cool enough to tolerate. No wonder the upper crust of society had always migrated out of the cities when summer came. New York was a goddamn hothouse, with every window and square foot of concrete and asphalt catching and reflecting the heat.

He was thinking longingly of the old days, when he worked in an air-conditioned lab and Rosie would stop by with iced coffee in tow and the actuators were wondering if their circuits could handle a dunk in the river when they clambered back into the relative cool of the warehouse. He'd managed to rig a few fans so there was at least some air circulation, and the windows were covered to keep sunlight out, but it was still quite warm inside.

mouse is here Flo said, chirping and swiveling to point her-- she'd begun to insist on feminine pronouns, and her brothers on masculine ones- camera towards a stack of crates. what is she doing is she sleeping

"I don't know," Otto said, heading towards the child. He stared down at her in surprise. She was horribly burnt, but too pale under the burn, and when he reached down to touch her cheek, it was cool and clammy. "Mouse?" he said, "Mouse, it's Otto."

Mouse whimpered and pulled away from the added heat of the hand on her face. Her throat was dry again, despite the water she had drunk. Her head still felt like it was trying to float away from her, and her muscles felt tight and hurt. Her clothes stuck to her, and she thought she just might be sick again.

He directed Flo and Mo to scoop her up and take her to the sink, were they wet a cloth and gently pressed it to her face, neck, and wrists to try and cool her off. How long had she been in this state? She shouldn't be out wandering the streets in this weather...

The sudden movement made Mouse's stomach lurch, but then there was a glorious coolness. Leaning into it, she made a soft sound of happiness.

After a few minutes, she looked up at Otto, and gave him a grateful smile. No one ever took care of her, but he was, and it meant so much to her. Precariously balancing on the edge of the sink, she leaned over and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug of thanks. She was starting to feel better now--still tired, but not quite so sick.

Otto froze at the hug; it still felt so strange. The last person who had hugged him was Rosie, and she had been dead for months. Hell, Rosie was the only person who hugged him. But now Mouse did too. The hug felt strange to Mouse too--at least, not being shoved away or hugging someone who reeked of the drug house. Her mother rarely tolerated her hugs anymore.

He looked down at the child and tentatively stroked her hair as the actuators kept dabbing at her. Wet as she was, she was making his coat soggy. He didn't especially care though, as it cooled him off.

Flo picked her up and sat her back on her feet, nuzzling her neck and draping the cloth across the back of her neck. Mouse was a little unsteady on her feet for a moment, but she gripped the sink, and sighed. After a moment, she was able to let go, and went over to her spot on the floor. She pulled Otto's oreos out of her bag, and offered them to him with a sheepish smile. She wasn't sure how good they would be now. He accepted the cookies with a slight nod- he still had no idea why she felt so compelled to bring him things- and set them aside.

Taking the cloth from her neck, she wiped her face, glad to be rid of the icky feeling. She sat on the floor, resisting the urge to lay down. She was still damp, and laying down now would just mean picking up all of the dust onto her clothes.

Larry nudged a chair over for Mouse to sit on, then went to the fridge they'd managed to jerry-rig and pulled out some cold water. Adding some ice to the battered cup, he handed it to Mouse.

"Drink all of that," Otto said curtly.

Mouse ducked her head, smiling at the order behind her hair. This was why she liked Otto. He tried to be gruff with her, but she could tell that he wasn't really. He was a good man.

She sipped the water, trying to resist the urge to gulp it down. Better to make it last, on a day like today. Mouse watched Otto go back to his desk, fiddling with whatever it was he was doing. Her damp hair hid her face, but she liked to watch him.

When she was finished with the water, she toyed with the cup a minute. "Th-thanks, Ot-to," she said softly. The words came to her unexpectedly, but for once, she felt no reason to hold them back. He had helped her, after all.

Otto jerked with surprise at the sound of the soft voice, scattering wires and screws. The actuators chattered, darting about to tidy the mess and scolding him for making it. Though Larry seemed quite pleased to hear their little guest speak.

He turned and smiled at her. "So, you do talk," he said. It had been quiet, and stuttering, but it had been actual audible speech. And she'd spoken to him. He had very little familiarity with the psychology of children, particularly troubled ones, but it had to be a good sign that she'd spoken to him. "You're welcome, Mouse."

She gave him a shy smile. Setting the cup aside, she folded her arms and laid her head on the crate next to her chair. A nap sounded very good right now. Just a little one. Closing her eyes, she listened to the familiar sounds of actuators and puttering. Strange, how they had become familiar so fast. But she liked it. It made her feel safe.

Harry and Larry wadded up a blanket and tucked it under Mouse's head. The actuators nuzzled her cheek before pulling back to Otto.

Otto watched the proceedings with slightly narrowed eyes. Never had the actuators acted so... affectionate. They were protective of him, of course, and did their best to make sure he took care of himself, but that could easily be explained as simple self-interest. If Otto died, they died too. The way they were treating Mouse, with exquisite care and what could be seen as actual kindness, was far different. They seemed to be developing more than just higher intelligence. They were developing a sort of empathy.

So strange...

Mouse snuggled against the comfort of the blanket, falling into a deeper sleep. She stayed in that position for the next several hours, until after the sun had started to set and twilight had fallen.

The child woke with a jerk, a little sore from sleeping bent over. But she felt much better, especially now that the day's heat had passed. It was still warm, but she had cooled off.

Then she realized how dark it had gotten outside. Her eyes went wide. Now she'd have to brave the streets and get through the den of junkies, neither of which were easy feats at night.

With a small squeak of surprise, Mouse bonded up, snatching up her bag and nearly tripping over her oversized shoes in her haste to try and get to the door; Remembering Otto's trouble moving, Mouse hurried back over and pulled the chair over to Otto and his work station.

Otto had taken the opportunity to doze away the midday heat, but he woke at the sound of the chair scraping across the floor. He blinked owlishly behind his sunglasses, peering around for Mouse. She was returning the chair to its usual place by the table he'd been napping at.

"Going home?" he asked.

Mouse nodded, looking a bit worried. She cast a glance out of one of the few uncovered windows, and grimaced. Yep, she would have major trouble at home. Everyone would be inside. And if they were inside, then that meant...she shuddered. That meant it was going to be a very bad night.

She sighed, and pushed down the urge to curl up and cry. It wasn't the first time. She would just have to deal with Stevie like she always did--by trying to pretend that she was somewhere else.

Picking up her bag again, she sat her cup on Otto's table, and gave him a wave.
Flo fed him the image of her shudder, which he might otherwise have missed in the gathering darkness. She looked like she was trying not to cry at the thought of heading for home. Otto didn't blame her, having a fair idea of what it would be like for her there. It would be far worse for her than it had ever been for him.

That did it. He could not, in good conscience, let her go home tonight.

'I'll take you there," he said, getting to his feet. "Unless you'd rather stay here. Would they miss you if you didn't go home tonight?"

Mouse paused, biting her lip as she thought. Did she dare? They probably wouldn't miss her. In fact, she was almost certain they wouldn't. But Mouse had never thought to stay out after dark before.

But this was different. She wouldn't be alone, she would be with Otto. It was safe here. She shook her head--no, they wouldn't miss her. Hope lit up in her eyes. Could she really stay here?

He smiled, the corners of his brown eyes crinkling a little with relief. Even one night away from home might do her some good. It would set him more at ease, at least.

"You can stay, Mouse," he told her, reading the question mingled with the hope in her eyes. "I'll get us something to eat." The actuators were reminding him that even if he could ignore hunger pangs, Mouse certainly couldn't afford to skip meals. "Do you like Chinese?"

Mouse shrugged. She remembered having Chinese with her gran when she was little, but that was a long time ago. Chinese food places weren't good for scavenging--they threw out a lot of food, but none of it packaged. So she normally skipped them.

Still, the restaurants always smelled good. So she nodded as well. Sure, she would love to try Chinese food.

"Alright then, I won't be gone long," he told her. "Make yourself a place to sleep- a comfortable one, mind. Use whatever you need, but don't touch anything in the lab area." Otto gestured to the space he'd set up for his continuing research. The desk currently was strewn with bits of burned, twisted scrap metal, scavenged remains of the first reactor that he'd been trying to analyze.

Grimacing a little at the need to wear the thing, Otto put on his trench coat and tucked the actuators inside, then limped out of the warehouse.

Mouse nodded her understanding, and watched Otto go. Taking the blanket the actuators had rolled up earlier, she spread it over the area where she usually sat. She propped her bag against one of the crates for a pillow, and pulled a small ragged bear out of it. Mouse had started carrying Tonto around with her, to keep him safe. She didn't like the idea of him being home by himself. Better to stick together.

Setting the bear on a crate, she bent over and started whispering in his ear. He had not met Otto yet, so she thought it was better to warn him about the actuators before he saw them, so that he didn't get scared.

Otto returned a while later carrying several plastic bags of Chinese food, having ordered a variety of dishes as he didn't know what might appeal to Mouse. He hadn't even needed to steal it, either- he had a decent supply of cash that he was working on investing, and he was planning to get some patents under a false name. Then, of course, there was still some leftover from his bank heist...
He and the actuators started pulling out cartons- rice both steamed and fried with little shrimp, potstickers, sweet'n'sour chicken, beef with broccoli, and mushu pork, a dish rather like a Chinese burrito that he was particularly fond of- while Flo fetched plates for them both and a fork for Mouse. Otto preferred chopsticks himself.

"Help yourself," he told Mouse, spearing a potsticker on one chopstick.

Mouse's eyes went wide at the sheer amount of food Otto laid out. Not even when it had been her and her mommy and gran did they ever pull out so much at once. Of course, the junkies munched on a ton of food every day, but Mouse rarely braved the kitchen at home. She got enough for herself during the day, but that was it.

Biting her lip, she carefully forked a little bit of everything onto her plate. She didn't use a fork very often--most of what she got out of the bins could be eaten by hand. Wrapping her whole hand around the fork, she awkwardly scooped food up. When she was ready to start, she carefully speared a piece of chicken. Her eyes went wide as she tasted it. "Mmm." She couldn't remember the last time she'd had anything half this good.

Otto grinned at her, glad to see her enjoying herself like this. Maybe if he could get a couple of decent meals into her, it would help. She was entirely too small for her age.

"Good, isn't it?" he said, piling fried rice onto his own plate. "Chen's is pretty nice. Wish I'd known about it before I wound up in Hell's Kitchen."

Mouse nodded, grinning widely and swinging her legs in her chair. Yes, it was all very good. She took Tonto from her lap, and sat him on the table next to her plate. It was too bad he couldn't enjoy the food too. But maybe he could at least enjoy the smells.

She merrily ate on her food, enjoying the different flavors. It was nice to have hot food for once. Picking up an extra set of chopsticks, she tried to figure out how to hold them and pick up food with them like Otto was doing. It was confusing, and she couldn't get it to work right. Still, it was much easier to find sticks than forks sometimes. She could understand how someone might like using sticks instead.

Mo chittered, watching Mouse try to figure out the use of chopsticks. Otto grinned at the sight.

"Like this." Reaching over, he gently rearranged her fingers on the bamboo sticks, and showed her how to open and close them. "It takes some practice."

Now Mouse's face was screwed up in concentration. With a child's intense focus, she carefully picked up a piece of chicken and got it in her mouth with the chopsticks. Her face lit up at the accomplishment. That was perhaps the best piece of chicken of them all.

She grinned at Otto, bouncing a little in her seat with excitement. This was officially the best night of her life. Ever.

He liked having Mouse around, he decided. She was a good kid, despite her crappy background. She deserved better than what she had.

He grinned back at her, actuators chirping encouragement. "Nice job," he told her, picking over his rice with his own chopsticks. Rice was a bit trickier, with all its discrete little grains.

Otto's praise made her duck her head a little, her smile turning bashful. Spreading out a napkin next to her plate, she sat aside a few pieces of the sweet and sour chicken. It wouldn't be as good without the sauce, but it was the least messy, and wouldn't be bad cool.

Wrapping up the napkin, she put it in one of her pockets, and went back to what was on her plate. The chopsticks were fun, but after a little while she went back to her fork. Food was getting cold while she played with the chopsticks.

It didn't take long before she was full. Mouse looked at the rest of the food wistfully. This food was so good...she wished she could just keep eating it. But she was already more full than usual.

He was concerned for a moment at how little she'd actually eaten, but then belatedly remembered that she would, of course, eat less if she were used to small rations. It was normal- and forgetting that spoke to just how little he'd actually paid attention to his biology courses. He'd taken them, and royally messed up the bell curve in the process, but his focus had always been on chemistry and physics and engineering.

"You don't need to put it in your pocket," he said as Larry picked up a napkin and wiped sauce off her face. "It'll go in the refrigerator for breakfast."

It was weird to have someone--even a machine--taking the care of her. She sat still as Larry wiped her face. Pulling the napkin from her pocket, she sat it back on the table.

Picking up Tonto, she settled the bear back in her lap. There were fortune cookies with the food, and she snaked a hand out to get one. Smiling, she unwrapped it, and cracked it open. She couldn't read well enough to understand her fortune, so she handed it to Otto, and ate the cookie.

Obediently, Otto took the slip of paper and read it aloud. "A mysterious stranger becomes a positive force in your life." He chuckled and handed the paper back to her. "Well, I hope that's true for you, little one."

Mo eyed the bear curiously, not sure what to make of it.

it is a bear right doesn't look like one poorly anthropomorphized why does she keep it around

'For comfort,' Otto thought. That bear would be one creature that never hurt her.

did you have a bear

He blinked, startled by the question.

'No,' he thought back. 'It was a stuffed Rottweiler.'

Mouse smiled, and pushed one of the other cookies towards him. She took her fortune back from Otto, and folded it, tucking it into the pocket of Tonto's vest. Yes, it was true. A stranger had made a difference in her life. A most wonderful difference.

She sipped her drink--it wasn't very often that she got soda. It was good and cold and sweet. She was used to drinking things lukewarm, and this was the second time today she had something with ice in it. Mouse was half afraid nothing else would seem quite so good after tonight.

you know these are general not real ridiculously ambiguous to be warped to any situation

Of course he knew that. But it would make Mouse happy.

"Love is waiting around the corner," he read, and bit back a derisive snort. Highly unlikely, that.

Mouse nodded, thinking it over. Yes, someone would fall in love with Otto. She had a good feeling about that. He was a nice person. Why wouldn't someone fall in love with him?

She watched as the actuators started putting the food away. It was always interesting, how easily they moved. Slipping off her chair, she went over to her bag, and pulled out her notebook. Settling on the floor with Tonto next to her, she started to draw. Otto settled back at his desk, and after several long minutes, she tore out the picture and brought it to him. It was of a man with four actuators, and a little girl. Both were smiling.

"For me?" he asked curiously. It was a typical child's drawing, a little shaky, but the subject was clear enough. He touched the penciled lines with a fingertip, tracing them. "Thank you, Mouse. This is the sweetest thing anyone's done for me in a long time."

She smiled at him, and wrapped her arms around him in a hug. He was the sweetest thing to have happened to her in a long time too.

Larry came up to nuzzle her, and Mouse patted him on her way back to her blanket. Otto was working, so she wouldn't distract the actuators with her ball right now. She pulled out a picture book, and sat Tonto in her lap so he could see it too. It wasn't easy to read in the limited light of the warehouse, but she knew this story by heart anyway, so it didn't matter.

Yes, Otto thought, he liked having Mouse there. She reminded him that he was something more than Doctor Octopus, the man with the metal tentacles. She reminded him that he was still human.

If only she didn't have to go back to that horrible place...