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"What do you mean you have to go?" Madeline demanded, the question coming out only slightly more aggressive than she intended - slightly. She'd agreed to go to lunch with Halia mostly as a favor to Mason, or out of obligation/thanks for the (admittedly adorable and very touching) Build-a-Bear Halia had gotten her while she and Mason were on their definitely-not-a-date-even-if-it-was-totally-a-date-you-idiot-fine-don't-believe-me-I-know-I'm-right-don't-come-crying-to-me-when-this-blows-up-in-your-face hang out.

And now Halia was bailing on her? The nerve.

"This is why I keep a calendar," Madeline continued, irritated. "So I never double-book us." Frequently, she slipped into the plural; as far as Madeline was concerned, there was no 'I' in 'twin', and she resented any insinuation to the contrary. "What is it you have to go and do, anyway?"

At least if it was something important, maybe Madeline could find it in her heart to understand. Maybe. (It had been a very cute, very thoughtful Build-a-Bear, after all, and that had to count for something.)

All of Madeline's irritation vanished in an instant - an instant shaped like the words 'newborn kittens'. Her eyes got very big, and for a moment she looked very much like her twin brother: excited and absolutely full of light.

"I will absolutely go to any farm," Madeline said immediately, "if there are kittens at the farm. Especially if they need help!" Madeline said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Well? What are we waiting for?" Madeline asked, shouldering her purse. "There are kittens that need us. Why were we even having lunch when there are kittens that need us?" Madeline shook her head. "Do we need to pick anything up from the pet store? Beds, kitten food, flea collars?" As per usual, when presented with a problem, Madeline had leapt into action, ready to fix whatever could be fixed, and pet any kittens that could be pet.

Madeline paused, eyebrows raising slightly. She was the first person to go to the farm? Well - Madeline didn't invite people over to their house, either, so she couldn't judge, but it did mean that she understood that it was - important. That sort of cooled her jets a little - refocused her. Got her mind off the whole kittens-who-needed-help thing.

"Thank you for letting me come," Madeline said. "I don't mind some teasing." She was used to teasing - from kids at school, from her brother - but not from a grandfather. She'd never met her own grandparents, on either side. She wasn't sure she even had them.

Madeline pushed the thought away.

"I've never seen chicks in real life before," Madeline said. "Are they as cute as they look on TV?"

Well, in truth, a farm was not Madeline's idea of fun - they were loud and they were extremely dirty - but she loved animals, especially the tiny baby very-cute versions of them, and that made up for a lot.

"I'm just glad I wore good shoes," Madeline said with a chuckle as they pulled into the driveway. She couldn't help the smile that spread across her face as Halia introduced her to the dog.

"Hi Bailey," Mads said, holding out her hand for the dog to sniff before she knelt down to scratch behind the dog's ears as it scrambled close to lick at her face. "Hi! Hi Bailey. Yes. Yes you're a good baby. You're a very good baby, yes--yes--okay, okay," Madeline said with a slightly overwhelmed laugh. "Okay, okay." Madeline managed to disentangle herself from the pup and stood back up, smile still lingering on her face.

"Now, take me to your kittens."

"Getting knocked over by an errant sheep is so not on my to-do list today," Madeline agreed, giving Bailey another scritch before she fell into step with Halia. It also wasn't on her to-do list to get run over by a horse or gored by a goat or trampled by a donkey - or in any way to fall victim to whatever animals Halia's grandfather kept here, really, so Madeline quickly decided she'd do pretty much whatever Halia told her to do.

And then.

"You want me to climb? Up there?" Madeline asked, pointing up into the hayloft. "I know you and Mase climb around on rooftops all the time, but, and I cannot stress this enough, I don't do that."

Trust me. Madeline narrowed her eyes slightly - she had a deep and abiding belief, furnished by a lifetime of watching movies and TV shows and not actually interacting with many other real people, that if someone said 'trust me', it usually meant that you should not, under any circumstances, trust them. It was like if someone said 'believe me', or 'to be honest'. That usually preceded a lie, at least in media, and art was based on life and life was based on art.

But.

Madeline took a breath.

This was not a movie or a TV show. This was real life. This was Mason's second-best friend (second only to Madeline herself, of course). She didn't want to trap her in a hayloft or whatever else.

She wanted to show her kittens. Kittens.

Pushing one last anxious thought away - luring someone to a second location with kittens is a classic murderer move - Madeline nodded, straightened her shoulders, and clambered onto the first haybale. It was - squishy, and uneven, and she did not love it, but after a moment, she found her balance. Mostly. She was a cheerleader, for heaven's sake, it would take more than a bonkers staircase made of hay to knock her down.

She tried one on her own, nearly immediately returned speedily to the very-dirty ground by way of gravity, and snatched up Halia's hand to keep her balance. She grinned sheepishly and loosened her grip slightly but did not let go, relying on the extra support to catch up with Halia.

"This is. Sure something that's happening," Madeline said, letting out a soft half-laugh. "But it's okay. We got this." Madeline maintained her grip on Halia's hand as they made their way to the hayloft itself, and she - fortunately - didn't fall and break her neck even at all.

Madeline brushed her hands down her shirt and thighs, trying in vain to clear off the sprigs of hay that had gotten all over her, somehow. "Okay," she said, looking back to Halia. "Where are the kittens?"

(Or the murder tools, Madeline thought, because really, it was always the ones you least suspect...)

"Ohhh," Madeline squeaked, greedily accepting the teensy, weensy, itty, bitty, so cute she could scream-y creature from Halia. "Ohhh. Oh, hi! Hi, yes, hi--oh, you do have claws, don't you?" Madeline giggled and rubbed between the kitten's ears, the downy fur like a cloud between her fingers. "Yeah, you're just trying to figure out what's going on, huh? I'd be scared if a giant picked me up and handed me to its giant buddy too, wouldn't I? Yes, yes I think I would," Madeline said, utterly enraptured in talking - if you could call it talking - to the tiny kitten, which seemed like it had briefly considered trying to squirm out of her grasp, but recognized the futility and decided to save its effort for something else, and instead flopped down in the crook of Madeline's arm.

"They are so cute," Madeline whispered, her voice several octaves higher than its normal pitch, her free hand trying desperately to give all the little squeaking, mewling bodies attention at once. "I am simply in love with them all. I live here now," she said, only mostly joking as she smiled down at the balls of fur. "And I will feed them anything I can. I think I'm their mom now."

Madeline grimaced in sympathy; she knew all too well about parents choosing not to be parents long after the decision point on the issue had passed. However, at least she and Mason had been equally ignored - if it had been just her, or even just Mason that was treated poorly, Madeline wasn't sure she would've been able to cope.

And at least they let the twins stay in the house - at least her own idiot parents had the good sense to excommunicate themselves, rather than the children. At least she'd never had to find refuge in a literal barn.

"I'm sorry that happened to you," Madeline said, voice soft and genuine. "But I'm glad you at least had this," she said, glancing around the hayloft before returning her attention to Halia (okay, mostly to the kittens, but she should be given credit for taking her attention away from them to beginwith).

Obediently, Madeline held out her hand to the mama cat, who sniffed it curiously and did not, like, attack her immediately, so Madeline carefully rubbed her cheek, then behind her ears, a smile on her face.

"Hi, Mama Cat," Madeline cooed. "You have some very pretty babies. Did you know that? Yes, you did so good making these babies. You did. You did!" Madeline, normally pedantic about grammar in all situations, was baby-voiced into incorrectness, and she didn't even care. "What a pretty mama cat you are too." Madeline paused then, her attention going back to Halia for a moment.

"She is cute, and the babies are adorable, but you should really get her fixed, especially as they're outdoor cats." Madeline had a whole lecture locked and loaded, but for once, she decided to be merciful - or at least patient, and wait to see how Halia responded before explaining, in detail, why Madeline herself was undoubtedly right and Halia should just do what she said already.