I still wasn’t exactly surewhathad gone down in the ductwork, but I was currently covered in debris and engaged in a stare down with the most adorable little ball of Big Mad I’d ever seen.
They’re really just a baby.
“Put up your shields!”Ziggy barked in Stellarian, and even though he was being ridiculously cautious in the face of such cuteness, I obeyed.
Because he’s baby too…
Babygirl, really.
Luckily, my man seemed to be letting me take it from here, though I could tell Zig would attack the instant anyone breathed wrong.
Looks like I need to lead by example.
While I also hadn’t experienced nurturing parents, my older siblings—especially Zion—had always taken care of me. Plus, Ilikedkids and, with a family as large as mine, I was just used to having them around.
And the first rule of dealing with kids is to never show them fear.
“Hey, there…” I soothed in Earthling American English, more to relay a calm vibe than communicate with words.
Since my translation device isn’t picking up on the language here.
When the furball continued to watch me warily, I slid down the wall into a crouch, then extended my hand—palm up—and did the only thing I could think of to diffuse the situation.
I pspsps'd.
“What are you doing?”Ziggy hissed, his incorporeal form pulsing with agitated glow.
Determined not to get distracted by his awe-inspiring appearance, I made the sound again, louder this time, so it would project beyond my shields.
Here, kitty, kitty, kitty.
What my stellar collision didn’t understand was this was the universal language—trade language, if you will—for all things cute and cuddly. I felt no small amount of pride when the baby alien cocked their head before dropping to all fours, pointing their tail at me like a beacon and trotting closer.
There you go.
“See, Zig?” I huffed, disengaging my shields and dropping fully to the floor so they could clamber into my lap. “A little kindness goes a long way.”
Ziggy huffed—as much as a cluster of stars could huff. “I was being kind.”
By not killing it, he means.
I giggled as the creature hooked their baby sloth claws around my neck and snuggled closer. Moving slowly so I wouldn’t disturb or frighten them, I wrapped my sweatshirt—Ziggy’s, actually—around both of us and zipped my new furbaby into a kangaroo pouch.
Ziggy drifted closer, causing the little guy or girl—or nonbinary alien—to tense and growl low.
“You’re scaring them!” I scolded, frantically shooing him away. “Go… change into the least threatening skinsuit you have.”
I should have known which skinsuit he considered harmless, but when Ziggy disappeared, only to reappear a few seconds later, I sighed.
Earthling, of course.
“See, little one?” I pspsps’d again for good measure. “He’s a friend.”
Ziggy scoffed, continuing to eye his fellow alien with distrust. “I am not afriend.”
Sighing, I awkwardly struggled to my feet, stumbling a bit due to the unfamiliar redistribution of weight. When I glanced at Zig, his darkened gaze was drinking me in, especially the large lump hanging around my midsection, implying helikedhow I looked right now.
I see you.
