Natasha was unsure of what to do. It was mid-morning, and she had decided on muffins for breakfast, reasoning that they would be easier for him to eat than cereal. They were still warm, but if she should wake up someone so ill... Eventually she decided that he needed the food, and crept into the room. She could see a small bulge outlined on the grey sock, moving very, very slightly; he was snoring. She was careful to move as quiet as possible; although perhaps her steps were still tremulous to him. She set the muffin tray down, and that seemed to have finally woken him, as the bulge writhed and stirred. A tiny, brown-haired head poked out, looking towards the tray with the muffins atop. It took Pod one look over to the woman, smiling behind the muffins, to slink back into his cosy bed in fear. Natasha frowned, that wasn't what she wanted. "Aww, please? I prepared this breakfast for you." she said, her tone clearly disappointed.

Pod stayed in the dark, curled into a ball, awkward with his stiffened leg. His arm still ached, and so did his chest, but it was much more manageable now, a good meal and night's rest helping tremendously. But still, even in his relatively good health he wanted to remain tucked away. He couldn't get over it: a human, the one thing he hated and feared above all else, offering food. It must have been a trap, even her sickly words of plea were a trap. But the muffins did look delicious... Crumbs of a muffin were the kind of thing his family would have made an occasion of, and the real thing was being presented to him, literally on a platter. He peeked his head back out, quivering in fear, tossing it over in his mind.

Natasha saw his indecision, and decided he needed to be helped. She took a pinch of the muffin, dropping the fluffy baked good at the mouth of the sock. Instantly she saw two arms, one slightly bruised, extended and squirrel away the morsel into the ruffles of her sock. She smiled, it was a quite cute thing to see. "Excuse me, but... can you understand me?" she asked, she had no clue if she was doing anything but bewildering him further by speaking. 

Pod listened to her words, and he understood them quite easily. Tinies spoke the language of wherever they lived, except for a few pieces of 'tiny' dialect. But he was so scared, he just wanted to pretend she wasn't there; couldn't he eat in peace? His stomach turned, she might become aggravated if he didn't answer. Slowly, he crawled out, like a hobbling mouse sniffing around the hole. He stood right at the precipice, his stiff leg still resting partially on the thick sock. A tiny piece of muffin was held in his hand, a sheepishly he nibbled at it, trying to ease his nerves with food.

Natasha's face lit up, he had finally come out! "C-can you understand me?" she said enthusiastically.

Pod nodded slowly, weakly. He hung his head as if it were heavy, both afraid to look at her and allow her out of his sight.

Natasha was so glad, she hoped that he knew of her goals, that she was only looking to help. "Can you talk?" she followed up with.

Pod, again, nodded slowly. He was having a nervous feeling rise in his stomach, as if he had come out in a moment of bravery and now regretted his decision. 

Nasha smiled, leaning in so her ears were closer to his likely weaker voice box. "Do you mind telling me your name?" 

Pod swallowed his mouthful of muffin in fear, the action also serving to wet his dry throat. The way her face was so close was disconcerting, it was... unnatural, this shouldn't happen. He was about to speak to a human, something that was second only to being spotted by one. It took every ounce of courage in his tiny body to not skitter back into the grey tunnel and at least pretend he was safe. He cleared his throat, weak from yesterday's crying and weeks of disuse. "P-pod..." he said softly, raspy. He hoped his voice was loud enough, he didn't want to repeat himself. 

Natsha faintly picked up his word, his voice incredibly soft; hopefully just weak and nervous at the time. "Pod?" she asked, looking for confirmation, which she received in a nod. "What a nice name you have, I'm Natasha." she smiled, pausing for a few seconds after and thinking of what to do next. "Do you want something? Are you thirsty?" she asked.

Pod nodded, he was very thoroughly parched from yesterday. Natasha, again, acknowledged him with a smile, standing up to get him something to drink. Instantly Pod returned to his nest, taking several deep breaths to calm his nerves. Perhaps he could manage his way back to the hidey-hole he had inside her wall, behind her dustbin. Then he could pretend this whole thing never happened. 

Natasha returned, seeing that Pod had returned to his sock. She placed the thimble full of water at the mouth and returned to her seat. As expected, like a cautious animal he stuck his head out, noticing the vessel full of the refreshing liquid, and her gazing at him from the sofa. He crawled over, like a dog or some other animal he lapped at it, taking cupped handfuls and quickly sipping it down before it slipped through his fingers. His dry throat moistened, and he could now rest quenched. Natasha watched as he cautiously drank like a deer looking out for hunters, although the only hunter was her. It seemed that he was at least slightly more comfortable around her, even if the only other comparison was him sobbing at her mere presence. "Pod, would you like to... sit in my palm?" she said cautiously. "We should get to know each other a little more..."

Pod stared at her as if a deer caught in the headlights of a car. He seemed to refuse to move, not even to scurry back into his home. Of course, he had been in her palm only yesterday, but he was placed there, this would be of his own volition. She placed her palm down flat, inviting him to take a step onto the platform, ruffled with fleshy folds. He recoiled and scurried back from her hand, just out of instinct. Perhaps it was better not to disobey her, even if she worded it like a suggestion. He slowly crawled forward, his stiff leg moving like dead weight. It was odd to see a person like this, Natasha thought; although he wasn't exactly a person. He seemed more like an animal, and if she made any sudden movements it might spook him back into his sock. Would he stay like this forever or was he simply being cautious? Pod poked at her fingers, 'testing the water' of her palm. She had moisturised and soaped her hand for this exact reason, and hoped that it would comfort him a little. He looked at the hazel eyes of his giant carer, offering a nod of encouragement, 'step on'. With a breath in his lungs he crawled on, yet again doing something that felt unnatural. Perhaps this woman was succeeding in earning his trust, soon to betray and trap him. He worked his way further down her hand, ending up on the wrinkliest part of her palm. Natasha smiled and began lifting her hand up, much to his behest. At that moment it seemed his bravery left, and he twitched and hyperventilated on her palm, almost as if he would start biting her like an enraged kitten. "Sorry, sorry!" she said, pleading for forgiveness to the tiny boy. She placed her hand back down, Pod moving off as fast as his injuries would allow. 

He had scampered off, but he didn't return to the sock, instead only moving a few centimetres back from the palm and folding up like a scolded child. 

"M-maybe slower this time?" she said, returning her hand down. Even slower he approached, kicking himself for frightening so easily. He edged on once more, the woman again moving her hand at a snail's crawl. After a few tense seconds of the boy being in her palm, she smiled cautiously, a twinge of warmth painting her cheeks and disarming the boy on some subconscious level. "So, Pod, I suppose you were living in my house?" she asked, careful to not sound angry or cruel.

A question, a potentially dangerous one. His heart thumped in his ears, he knew how humans hated pests. But he nodded, praying that she wasn't about to squeeze him into pulp for his trespassing. "Are you here alone?"

Pod nodded again, his heart rate remaining at this high pace. 

"I understand if you don't want to admit it, I promise I won't hurt your friends. Are you alone?"

He nodded the same, returning to his position of looking away from her giant hazel eyes behind her pane glasses. "Okay, fair enough. How old are you? You seem very young to be alone."

Pod swallowed, again preparing his throat for speech. "S... s-seventeen." he said in a meek whisper. 

"Really? Wow. You're less than half my age! Seventeen... being alone at so young, and in such a dangerous place. How long have you been here?" Natasha was actually impressed, at his age she was definitely not dislocating arms by falling from giant kitchen counters.

"O-only for a few days..." he said, again, in a soft mew.

Natasha nodded, she had all the information needed for now, and she returned to smiling at him. She could tell that he was still nervous, if not plainly terrified. Pod's heart had calmed, as it seemed he was past the threat of being squeezed for his crimes, but he was still in the hand of a human, and that was simply alien and disturbing. "Am I scary?" she asked, her tone oddly stiff, as if asking any other question.

Pod's eyes met her own as he looked up, bewildered, heart thudding again. He didn't want to offend her, he didn't want to be crushed. His mouth went dry, looking away from her again. "Be honest, I won't be mad." she said again, adjusting her tone to be slightly sweeter and hopefully making him more honest. 

Shamefully he nodded, she was scary. Natasha frowned, but it wasn't unexpected. She must be so big to him, and no doubt he had been told to stay away from people: for good reason, likely. "Would you like to be alone for a bit?"

The boy, again, nodded shamefully. The woman placed him tenderly back on the table, where he quickly scrambled back into his nest. "Get some rest, okay?" she said, the small bulge not responding. She rose from the chair and left into the kitchen. She might as well clean and make herself useful with her day off.

---

Pod had spent the day in the warm sock, he felt more comfortable in this tiny nook than outside. In the soft embrace he cradled his still sore arm, winced with his breathing, and lamented over his stiff leg. Intermittently he managed to lapse into sleep, and occasionally lapping from his thimble when awake. At one point he discovered a small piece of meat left during his nap, and he gladly swallowed the salty morsel. Indeed, despite his pain, in many ways he felt better than usual: fed, quenched and rested. Still though, he thought of the human, 'Natasha'. She had done all this for him, and she said that she only wanted to help; that wasn't like the humans he had heard about. Perhaps she was only nursing him back to full health to torture him, or had some other plan, but she seemed so genuine. He couldn't forgot she was a human though, and he had to stay on his toes around her, until he could be sure. 

Natasha had left him to his own devices for the entire day, but now it was finally time for both of them to interact again. The older woman decided that he must be filthy, and a bath would do him good. She brought with her a bowl of warm water, a rag and some soap, setting them down at the edge of the table. "Hello, Pod, are you awake?" she cooed to the sock. The entrance was lifted slightly, and a familiar head popped out. Natasha smiled at his cute face popping out to look, his eyes shooting to her. "You must be dirty after so long, come here." she said, patting the table adjacent to the steamy bowl. 

Pod was, as always, unsure. He heard her words, and he WAS filthy. Usually he cleaned himself with a moist rag, but that was still in the hole, and over the twenty-four hours since he had been home a sheen of sweat and dirt had accumulated on him. Furthermore, he saw the steam coming off the bowl: it was warm. Warm baths was the thing he most envied the humans of he previous house for, how relaxed they looked in their giant porcelain tubs. Against his usual judgement, and perhaps spurred my a clouded head, he made his way to the bowl, by Natasha. He sat as far away as he could while being in easy reach, and his back was straight, with defensive posture; as if he could skitter away at any moment. "Now, this splint... I'm sorry, again." she said, Pod not liking the words. She poked at his bruised leg, the toothpick adhered to it by tape keeping it straight. He grimaced at the gentle prodding, but he didn't squeak. "I think we won't need this." she smiled, it was probably only sprained or bruised. She dabbed the damp cloth onto the thin strands of tape, weakening the adhesive so it could slide off easily, freeing his leg, which he promptly tried bending to return the feeling of motion. "About this..." she poked at his loincloth. Pod swallowed, he was already shy around her, he definitely didn't want to be naked. "I won't peek." she said, closing her eyes. He undressed, slow from both the sore leg and stage freight. When he was naked he grunted, letting her know that he was ready. Gently she picked him up, fingers supporting his back with a thumb on his stomach, and lowered him, feet first, into the steamy bowl.

Pod was in absolute heaven, the warm water, especially on his bruises, was nothing short of blissful. The steam rose and swirled all around him, he could swear it even had a sweet scent carried with it. Had he really missed this his entire life? Now that his privates were hidden beneath the steamy liquid she opened her eyes, and much to her delight, for the first time, he was wearing a tiny smile. He also seemed complacent, soothed by the intoxicating water and forgetting about the giant woman. She got to work, adding the soap that foamed in the water in preparation. With a probing finger, hidden behind a cloth, she scrubbed gently at his body. Pod was tickled tremendously by the fibres, and in the good mood he was in, he let out a tiny, innocent giggle. That slight bout of jubilation was music to Natasha's ears, to finally hear him happy; instantly she grinned. The sound was so enticing, she had to do it again, tickling his submerged body with the cloth. He giggled again, and again as she continued at it. Eventually he burst into a fit of giggling, fighting away her finger with his sturdier arm. Natasha joined in, giggling as she attacked him; for a moment she felt like a child, just laughing while tickling her friend. 

After a few moments of fun she stopped, and after the residual giggling, they returned to silence. Pod became acutely aware of what had just occurred. Did he really just do that? Giggle at her tickling? For a second, he had forgotten that she was a human... He didn't know how to feel, was he letting his guard down too soon? In shame he slunk deeper into the water, his rosy cheeks just floating above.

All good things must come to an end, and Pod was lifted from the heavenly bath by two fingers, dropped onto a tissue, hand over his crotch to remain decent. Natasha smiled to him, he was a bit of a cutie, that was for sure. "Dry yourself with those tissues, I'll leave you be for a little while, okay?" he nodded in response, back to his usually caution. As if it were a blanket, Pod nuzzled into the tissue, removing the moisture from his body. He felt refreshed, relaxed, serene. Still, in his mind came the swirling message: she is a human, she is not to be trusted. Skittishly he crawled back into his sock, bringing his loincloth with him.

---

Natasha had decided that after the bath, she wanted to watch some television, and she had come into the living room to do so. She turned it down very low to not bother the boy in the sock. Pod angled himself to see the television while remaining inside the sock, watching the whispering moving pictures in curiosity. He had never really watched a television, not anything more than a glance, not long enough to pick up plot points or story-lines. He was interested, perhaps this was his chance. But with... Natasha out there, he wanted to remain. 

A few drops were the first warning of coming rain for the evening, and soon there was a loud clatter of drops upon the roof and road, the thousands of individual sounds moulding into a cacophony. Forgetting the television, Pod scrambled deeper into the sock, nuzzling into the fabric and covering his ears with his arms. Tinies were scared of rain, it was not a good thing to be outside during a storm, and still that primal fear was carried with him. The astute woman noticed the movement, "Pod, are you okay?" she asked. She had an instinctual feeling that he was scared, and wanted to ensure he was comforted. Of course, he didn't respond. "If you're feeling scared Pod I'll do whatever I can to make you feel better."

Like a sniffing mouse he peeked his head out, perturbed deeply by the rain. If there was something she could do to stop it, he would gladly accept it; even from a human. "What's the matter, sweety?" she said with a breathy voice, seeking to sound maternal and caring. The boy did his best to signal his discomfort, pointing at the window. She began to put two and two together. "The rain?" she questioned, his head bobbing in shameful affirmation. She hummed to herself in thought, there wasn't much she could do to help him, unless... "Pod... would you like to... lay on my belly? For comfort?"

The young man poked out his head further, somehow ignoring the rain. The dark haired woman smiled at him, and he looked along the length of her reclining body, a small band of skin peeking out from beneath her sweater. Pod was startled, sitting on her? Why would he do that? She was beckoning him to kill him for sure... But he felt so alone during the rain. He remembered the nights of his childhood, his family all huddling together in their little hole during the rain, sharing their warmth. He didn't have that, he was alone, and frightened. A crack of thunder made him jump, agonising his injuries. He took in a haggard breath, looking once again over her mountain range of a soft body, her wide hips and curves like hills and peaks, and her belly, a thin band of skin poking from beneath her sweater. For the first time in two days he struggled to his feet. His knees were weak, but they supported his frame, and he began his slow march over, a limp accompanying him. Natasha smiled, both at his walking and his bravery in approaching her. It had only been a day from when he cried at the sight of her, and now it looked like he would be snuggling up with her. He hobbled over, to her waiting palm, his legs giving out after the small distance covered, collapsing onto her pudgy finger pads. She moved him over, balancing him and hiking up her sweater further, dropping him on.

Pod paused as soon as he was slid on, frozen in place. Natasha was a curvy woman, her belly was not immune from the softness of the rest of her, and it showed. Pod contemplated for a few second, he was in sheer shock; there was no way someone so soft could be evil. He sunk into her, leaving a very minute imprint on her stomach. Her silky smooth skin was so warm, so yielding, like butter, or pillows. She was like a giant pillow. A human, he was on a human, at this moment, and he was enjoying it. He didn't know how to feel, it was simply so enticing. He was miraculously cured of his fear of rain, he couldn't be afraid of this megalithic human, even his injuries felt slightly better. "Do you feel comfortable?" Natasha asked.

"...Y-yes..." he said, meekly yawning after his sentence. 

Natasha had the widest grin on her face, cheeks warmed to red from his words. Not only had he layed on her, but he was comfortable, and actually spoke. Perhaps, without being too hasty, he might come to like her. 

Pod's mind attempted to swirl with thought, it even tried to alert him to danger, but he was too tired for that. His eyelids were heavy, his mind was growing dim. What was he doing? Falling asleep on a human?...