Disclaimah: I don't own Jonathan Crane. And I think I'd end up with more than a couple of bruises if I tried.

This is part of the CAT series, taking place between "Vacation Time" and TheNoblePorpoise's untitled fic. (AKA "April Showers," which has been absorbed into the 3.0 collective.) I suggest that you read the entire series, and in order no less.

To facilitate that, the Official Timeline:

www. freewebs. com/ bitemetechie/ catverse. html

This is much less unweildy than the typed-by-hand version in early versions of the early CATfics. Sadly, making way for progress means no more amusing commentary. I still maintain that "Wishy Washy" is my favorite.

And that you've got some reading to do.

There Is No Such Thing As A Free Lunch

When he didn't know where to find them, he had learned to look in the kitchen.

Crane still didn't understand the girls' strange obsession with feeding him, but…well, there were worse things they could have done. He did have a tendency to skip meals, and the girls did cook fairly well. Techie and the Captain did, anyway. They wouldn't let Al within three feet of the oven, although she was sometimes allowed to stir, and she often suggested ingredients.

Four of Al's five favorite foods (excluding chocolate) were broccoli, potatoes, cheese, and green onions.

She wouldn't say what the fifth was.

He had to admit, he was a bit curious.

That curiosity was what drove him into the kitchen Friday afternoon when the lair got a little too quiet.

The last few times he had wandered into the kitchen to discover the girls cooking, they had swarmed over him and insisted that he taste "just one more thing" for hours until he had finally wormed his way out of their grasp and gotten back to work.

But this time was different.

Giggling, Al blocked the doorway with her body. She couldn't do much to block his view, being nearly a foot shorter than he, but she was quite determined not to let him into the room, and it didn't seem worth it yet to beat her senseless just to find out what was going on.

"What are you three up to?"

Techie and the Captain giggled at him, hiding whatever they were working on.

"Nothing."

He glared at them. They smiled back.

"Don't lie to me."

"Oh, Squishykins—"

"Don't call me Squishykins."

"Okay, Squishums," said Techie. He frowned at her. The one he wanted to murder was always the farthest out of reach. Did they arrange things that way on purpose?

"No delaying tactics. What are you doing?"

"Cooking," said Al. "You go away. We'll let you know when it's ready." When he didn't move, she tried pushing him out of the way. He caught her wrists and pulled her hands away from his chest.

"I told you not to touch me."

She looked shocked.

"Ow. Squishy!" She tried to pull her hands back. He only tightened his grip.

It was a little amusing, the way she actually seemed surprised that he wasn't afraid to hurt her.

"Jonathan? Don't…break her," the Captain said hesitantly. "We just wanted to surprise you."

As if that would appease him. He didn't like surprises.

"Is it going to explode?" he asked. (A reasonable question with these three, and especially on April Fools Day.) Al squirmed, still trying to pull away.

"Not unless you want it to," Techie said cheerfully. Al let out a little whimper of pain.

"Squishy? You're really hurting me." He didn't quite smirk.

"I know."

"Could you stop, please?"

"No."

The Captain and Techie exchanged a glance, and decided to come to their partner's rescue.

With the battle cry, "Hugs!" they tackled him. And then they snuggled him. All three of them.

And by the time they were done, he decided it would be more worthwhile just to go back down to the lab. He would teach them a lesson some other time.

Some time later, Al sat staring in fascination at the bruises forming on her wrists.

"You okay, Number One?"

"Yeah. But he doesn't love us yet."

The Captain turned her attention back to the oven.

"We'll win him over."

"Sure we will," said Techie. "But are you sure haggis is the way to do it?"

Al grinned.

"You'd be surprised."