"If that's what you want for your birthday or something, I dunno, I'd see what I could do," snorts Zeus, "I'm not sure it's a thing that can happen, though."

"...No, I mean my lack of boobs," snorts Harley. "Like, I know this may come as a shock to you, but magic exists! I could totally have boobs. I should have boobs sometime," he declares. "I bet they're fun, they look fun."

"They're definitely fun to be in proximity to. I don't care to own my own set. I mean, I don't know what to feed them or how often they need to be walked." He taps his chin. "That'd be interesting, anyway."

Zeus is instantly engrossed in his omelet. It is the best omelet. Harley is the best omeletter.

[Who wouldn't be, this is fucking delicious,] says Zeus.

[You are the best. This omelet is the best. I conclude that you are this omelet.] He pauses between bites long enough to grab Harley by the arm and bite his wrist, not hard. [I may have miscalculated.]

He cackles.

Zeus returns to the much more rewarding task of biting his omelet instead. [This is so tasty that I don't even care that you definitely poisoned it and I shall suffer sickness unto death. What a way to go.]

"Yeeeep," laughs Harley. "I would be the best assassin, people would just line right up to be poisoned."

[You could be an executioner. People would tell you what they wanted for their last meal and then eat up their sentence.] Zeus has never lived in a world where the death penalty was standard - at least not for anyone for whom a choice of last meal would be meaningful - but there is always fiction about the past.

He giggles so hard he has to sit down. On the floor.

Zeus makes short work of the omelet despite its wolf-appropriate portion size. "Thank you," he says warmly, "you are great and that was great and I am no longer in danger of withering away to a wisp of nothing."

"I am great," beams Harley. "I'm so great. I'm amazing."

"I'm amazed," says Zeus in mock astonishment, flinching as though Harley is very surprising, "I cannot figure out how you happened, it must be magic that is even more magic than regular magic. Double magic. That is the only explanation for you and how amazing you are."

Harley scoots over and hugs his leg.

Pat pat pat. "Remind me which of us periodically turns into a tail-wagging fluffy canine creature?" he asks dryly.

"Me," he says firmly.

"Oh, okay, then this makes perfect sense," says Zeus, "nothing incongruous about this picture, I must have been daydreaming."

"Very good, you get a -" Zeus scans the kitchen for something to stand in for a dog treat, and settles for a bit of mushroom that didn't make it into the omelet. "Facsimile of a biscuit."

"I love you too."