Trouble rolls out of Robin's lap and hops up into Bella's.

Pet pet.

<I'm soft and fluffy,> he says smugly, purring up a storm. <And cute as hell.>

"You are," she agrees. "So before you came in, we were talking about how to get you and Charlie generic human morphs while you're supposed to be dead, and the going plan - given that there are many unknowns and severe risks associated with graverobbing and mosquito vomit - is that you fly to Las Vegas and acquire unsupervised drunk people."

<Sounds good to me,> he says contentedly.

Pet, pet, pet.

Purrrrrsnugglesnugglepurrrrrrrrr.

"You would make an excellent coat."

<I totally would,> he agrees. <Wanna skin me?>

"And get blood on your pretty fur? I don't know how to make coats either."

Purr-giggle.

Pet, pet. Sigh of indeterminate emotional content.

Snuggle snuggle purr. Trouble's emotional content is easy to determine: he's a cat, and he's getting petted. Happily.

Yep. He's pretty readable that way. The purring is helpful.

Andi and Ax are in the garage, and she is explaining the cultural context of the Beatles.

<I'm a kitty! Who wants to pet me?>

"Ooh, me!"

Kitty Trouble rubs his face against her leg and purrs encouragingly.

Andi scoops him up and pets him. "Sofffft," she coos.

<Yep,> he says, purring louder. <Soft and fluffy and cute. That's me.>

"Uh-huh! What are you exactly?"

<Part serval, part snow leopard. It took a while, but it's not like I had anything better to do. And now I look like a housecat but I'm way better at killing things! And so pettable.>

Pet pet. "Well, you're an adorable little killing machine, that's what you are."