A ray of sunshine fell squarely across Teddycat’s closed eyes, as he made a futile attempt to pull the covers over his head. With a sigh, the Blaster finally unscrewed his eyes, and took a look at the bedside alarm clock.

“Eleven-thirty, already? Jeez.” Tossing aside the covers, it occurred to him that a certain someone was no longer sighing contentedly beside him. It hadn’t taken very much to talk the raccoon into moving into his new place; though, if you were to ask her, she would readily tell you that she’d protested with all of her might before finally caving in.

Teddycat raised an eyebrow, slightly intrigued, as he began to speculate where the Defender had wandered off to. Surely, it was too early for her to have fallen in the well. And at this hour, there would hardly be any vendors out to distract her with an abundance of shiny objects. More than likely, she was somewhere in the house, playing hide-and-seek, and forgetting that she hadn’t told him to come look for her.

Placing his bare feet on the floor, he slid off the bed, intending to go tell her that the jig was up. It would come as no surprise—she never won this game, not even when he was stumbling around half-dazed and barely awake. The Blaster walked over to the window, tossing aside the curtains, and took a leisurely glance out at Founder’s Falls.

Founder’s Falls was one of those old, nearly-forgotten parts of Paragon City, and for the most part, nothing ever seemed to happen there. The waterways and canals were a welcome reprieve from the endless expanses of asphalt and concrete he’d grown accustomed to, back home.

Back home. For years, he’d considered his small apartment in the heart of Skyway City to be his home, sparse though it was. It had served its purpose well enough, in that it—usually—kept the rain off his head, and was warm enough for him to barely survive winter. But now…

Now, he had a new home. In deciding where he ought to move, he’d only gone in with two requirements; one, that it had to have a lawn (he'd never had one, in his entire life thus far), and two, that it was surrounded by enough trees for Coonie to not feel homesick.

Speaking of Coonie, Teddycat’s attention returned to the task at hand. He would start with the obvious locations, first, and then move on to the most bizarre he could think of. There seemed to be no middle ground, with her.

The bathroom was the first stop along the way, mostly because it was the closest room to the bedroom. Poking his head in, he determined that no, she wasn’t hiding behind the shower curtain, nor had she somehow trapped herself under the sink. Glancing at the mirror, however, he checked a wince. His hair was a mess…likely thanks in no small part to Coonie. He managed to salvage what he could by running his hand through it a few times, before sighing and moving on to the next room.

Like the bathroom, the utility closet, media room, and converted second bedroom also lacked the presence of a certain raccoon. Now, his interest was piqued.  Usually by now, he’d already found her, and told her, once again, that this was to be the last time she ever played hide-and-seek in the house.

Heading down the stairs two at a time, he came to the conclusion that she was also neither in the living room nor out in the garden, though the latter did show evidence of her attentions. Passing by the kitchen towards the laundry room, Teddycat briefly caught wind of a familiar smell, although it was completely out of place here.

“Is that…cookies?” Taking two steps back, he stood in the doorway of the kitchen in utter disbelief. It was indeed cookies (chocolate chip ones, to boot), and there, surprisingly, was Coonie, covered head to toe in flour. He watched for another few moments in shocked silence, as she swiped cookie batter from the mixing bowl with her index finger.

Never in all of the time they’d known each other had the Blaster thought her capable of doing something as benign as baking cookies. Usually, if there was a lack of explosions or smoke, something was seriously wrong.

He must have finally made some noise or other, because Coonie turned, her finger still in the corner of her lips. It seemed that day was full of firsts, as for the first time while in her company, Teddycat felt the strange and compelling urge to call her adorable. The Blaster blinked, repressing that momentary—if horrifying—impulse, as Coonie smiled at him, and finally tasted the batter she had so gleefully procured.

“It’s about time you woke up, mister,” she teased, sticking her finger back into the bowl. “I thought you were planning to sleep the entire day away.” Teddycat smirked, closing the distance between the two of them, and she offered him the latest digit-ful of cookie dough.

“Yeah, well, I kinda had a bit of a rough night. But I suppose you wouldn’t know anything about that, huh?” The Defender blushed an interesting shade of red—rather like a cross between a fire engine and a radish—as he licked the dough from her outstretched finger. “Hmm, not bad. Is that my shirt that you’re wearing?”

Coonie glanced down at the pale blue work shirt that was, currently, almost entirely covered with flour. It was almost big enough to fit her like a dress, one of the reasons she had chosen it to wear. Pushing the sleeves up above her elbows, she nodded. “Mhmm. I would’ve worn my own, but it seems to be attached to the ceiling fan, at the moment. And it’s not like a tall, handsome Teddycat like you was awake to help me bat it down.”

Teddycat’s smirk widened to a grin, as he folded his arms over his considerably bare chest. Following the memorable first meeting between her and his chest, the Defender appeared to have developed an almost remarkable tolerance to it. That her shirt was held up by its luminescent captor came as no surprise to him—that the bed frame hadn’t collapsed was an entirely different matter.

“I suppose, this time, I’ll let you get away with that. Besides, it looks better on you than it ever did on me.” Coonie giggled before sticking her tongue out at him, and he placed his hand on her head, sending flour scattering into the air as he messed up her already messy hair. “However, now that I’m up…what would you say if we went and rescued it?”

Before she had the chance to respond, Teddycat had swept her into his arms. As the raccoon squeaked in surprise, he took that moment to place a kiss on her lips, silencing all thoughts of protesting. When her feet had finally stopped kicking wildly at him, he started on the arduous trek back upstairs.

It’s not to say that the Blaster was particularly adept at walking through the hallway and living room—more like extraordinarily lucky, to be honest—and if you’ve never tried to carry a randy raccoon up a flight of stairs, while she does a fantastic job of trying to distract you, then you would have no idea of the award Teddycat deserved for making it to the bedroom door.

Upon reaching the door, however, said Teddycat encountered a problem. Carefully removing one of his hands, he reached back to grab the door knob. Only to find it locked, of course, as thus was the nature of his life up to that point. Coonie graciously removed her lips from where they’d been worrying at his throat, to look up at him with an irritated frown.

“What’s with the hold up? Open the damn door, already.” As if that hadn’t occurred to him. Re-adjusting her weight, Teddycat redoubled his efforts to make the door knob pay dearly for its insouciance.  And then, Coonie found his earlobe. Inhaling sharply, he opted for the more direct route, and the two of them stumbled back into the bedroom, the door a scorched jumble of splinters behind them.

Now, there’s no real need to detail the proceedings—that’s what your imagination’s for, afterall—suffice to say that they had quite the wonderful experience, and might well have even been open for a spot of tea, had either of them been able to get up.

Mornings like these were nothing new. Nearly six months after Coonie’s kidnapping, and three months of living in the new place, the two had retired from the hero business in favor of something quite a bit more frivolous. Other than the City Representative giving them a curious look, and Statesman winking in that annoying way of his, no one had said a word about their sudden decision. And thus far, neither of them had any complaints whatsoever.

Trailing a finger up his chest, Coonie drew lazy circles on his skin, while Teddycat’s hand ran through her hair. Both of them were now covered in flour, as though the glutinous starch was somehow contagious, though it was hard to say that either of them gave half a damn. Snuggling closer to him, the Defender turned her attention upwards. The shirt was indeed quite stuck up there, hanging menacingly over one of the light fixtures.

Following her gaze, Teddycat laughed, the sound rumbling against Coonie’s ear. “Ya know, I think I rather like it up there. Gives the room a bit of character, and all of that.”

“As if it needed any more,” she mumbled, nodding towards the pile of arcane texts and paraphernalia stacked in the corner of the room beside his desk.

“Hey now, you said I was allowed to bring them.”

“I said a few of them, not the entire contents of the Netherworld Public Library.”

“They actually have one of those, ya know.”

“Really?”

“No.” He laughed again as she punched him half-heartedly, sighing as he relaxed into the pillows. Nine months ago, he’d prayed to God to never cross paths with the debt-bringing raccoon. And now…

“Hey, hey Teddycat?” she asked, and he rolled onto his side to face her. Coonie absently chewed on her bottom lip, thinking the question over in her head (a rarity, to be sure). Finally, the words found, she smiled. “Where do you think we’ll go from here?”

The Blaster shrugged languidly. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll start writing a book together, or find some hideous knitting class for couples…actually, I could use a few scarves.” Teddycat grinned mischievously. “Or maybe we’ll have some pups.”

He gave Coonie a moment to recover from the sentiment she was suddenly choking on, patting her back lightly.  The horror-struck look she directed up at him was enough to make him laugh again, and actual tears welled in the corners of his eyes.

“Kidding, of course.” This time, it was the alarm clock that struck him, as the Defender slid off the bed, heading in the direction of the bathroom. When she paused in what remained of the doorway, he raised an eyebrow. “What, no witty retort?”

Half-turning towards him, he noted the smirk on her lips. Oh God. Nothing good ever followed that look. “Not this time, I’m afraid. I was just thinking that, should we renew our hero licenses, we’d have all sorts of time on our hands to run missions all day.”

Teddycat’s eye twitched violently; in fact, it was the first time it had even so much as twinged in the last three months.

Snickering, Coonie stuck her tongue out at him. She’d barely turned back, however, before she heard the ominous thud of his feet hitting the floor. Laughing nervously, the Defender inched further into the hallway. For a brief moment, there was complete silence. And then she was tearing down the stairs, Teddycat hot on her heels.

Some things, it would seem, never change.