Pod clamped his eyes shut and forced his hands over his ears, blocking out or otherwise dulling his senses. He shivered, doubled over inside his bellowing grey shirt in the form of a ball, propped up against the towering leg of a table. He was filled with fear, a revolting kind of fear, the kind that both disturbed and panicked him. However, Pod was a tiny, and a particularly craven one at that, he was accustomed to experiences like these. He knew that if he simply retreated into his own private world of dark silence, he could contain himself until it was gone. 

There were a few quaking thuds in his direction, muffled by the carpet, "I got it! The spider's gone," came the words he had been praying for, and in the angelic notes of Natasha's voice; who was peeking down at the tiny shivering thing with a wide smile. 

Pod instantly came unwrapped from his ball, running the small distance to Natasha's nylon clad feet and jumping on, hugging in thanks. He nuzzled into the dark strands and held it tight like an affection animal. He only loosened his grasp on the bridge of her foot when he felt wide fingers pinch below his arms and on his waist, there to receive and deliver him to her pillowy hands. She moved her hand up to her cheek and held it close, allowing him to, again, latch on in appreciation. The tiny boy spread his arms wide and kissed into her expansive cheek repeatedly, "Thank you thank you thank you thank you!" he called in-between kisses; he was doing everything to show his gratitude. All tinies hated spiders, both as competitors and even predators, but Pod hated spiders more than most; they were vile, hairy beasts that made his stomach turn. It was unfortunate that he was both arachnophobic and a tiny. 

Natasha giggled at his reaction, "Awww, stop, you'll make me WANT spiders to show up," she joked, rubbing a finger along his back. "Come on, sit on my shoulder and calm down, no more spiders," Natasha soothed and gently slid him onto her shoulder, covered by a thin piece of fabric. He lay on his back, tucking his head by her smooth neck and looking up at the hair dangling around her ear. 

Pod was the luckiest tiny on Earth it seemed, had nature run its course he knew likely wouldn't have made it very long away from his family; he was frail, on top of being the size of a mouse. Natasha was simply a wonderful person, and made sure he wanted for nothing. Clothing, food, water, companionship, all things she happily shared, while asking very little in return. His life had been dominated by fear before he met her; fear of no food, fear of his larger siblings, fear of humans... fear of dying alone. And Natasha had stopped all of that, she was the cure for all his phobias, a gentle giant that kept him safe from a world that wanted to starve him, crush him or eat him; and she still loved him.

Now relaxing, Pod withdrew his legs into his bellowing shirt; clothing his size was hard to come by, and he made do with a shirt from a doll too large for him, with fabric coming down to his knees and the yawning, dangling arm-holes, it was almost like a robe. He hummed contently as Natasha sat and picked up a book, beginning to scan the words on the page. She was glad that she had alleviated his fear. 

A knock resounded from the front door, a brief rap to signal that someone was present. The great woman turned her head with a woosh of her loose hair strands and looked at Pod, who scrambled from the blocking cliff of her chin and onto the shoulder, into view. She furrowed her brow in bemusement, unsure who would be visiting her at this moment. She pulled up the pads of her fingers and allowed Pod to climb aboard, walking down the long, meaty pillars to be safely in her palm. She directed him down to the table, next to his sock, which served the function of his sofa and, at this time, shelter. He crawled in and made himself thin, so as to not be apparent to any humans with particularly keen eyes. The stealthy teen listened with his precise ears to Natasha, who was just now plodding away and unlocking the wide door.

"Oh, hello Veronica," Natasha chirped, unseen, to the mysterious person named 'Veronica'. If he recalled this was usually reserved for women, so he would assume that in his mental image.

"Ah, Natasha! So good to see you," the mysterious person responded, confirming her femininity with her high-pitched voice; slightly less breathy than Natasha's comforting timbre.

An awkward silence seemed to descend upon the duo, Pod unable to gauge how the exchange was going from his vantage point.

"Don't tell me you forgot..." said Veronica, her voice clearly disappointed, "My house is being fumigated, you said I could stay here?"

There was another pause before Natasha continued, "Oh yes... yes, I remember. That's no trouble at all! Come in and make yourself at home."

"Are you sure? I could ask someone else."

"No no, come right in, I'll just get some tea," Natasha responded, the sound of her steps moving into the kitchen.

"Oh... thank you so much!" Veronica called to the kitchen.

Pod held fast to the wide fuzzy ground as an unfamiliar set of steps slightly disturbed the table. Veronica had decided to rest in the living room, oblivious to her unseen guest, and dropped her luggage lazily before collapsing on the sofa and examining the room vacuously. Pod was slightly nervous, he was in a somewhat awkward situation now; should he introduce himself? That was potentially awkward, he hadn't really done it before. But if they were to spend a few days together, he might as well get it over and done with. Shuffling out, he popped his head from the mouth of the sock and soaked in the view of the opposing giant. Veronica was a rather tidy looking woman, her blonde hair nicely straightened and lips painted a vibrant red, wearing an unextravagant blouse. She seemed to be of a similar age to Natasha, but slightly thinner and with a few more wrinkles on her forehead. Despite that, she may have given her darker friend some competition in the looks department with her rather fetching face and body; although Pod was strictly a single woman man. He cleared his throat, which apparently wasn't enough to draw her attention, and opened his mouth wide for a greeting, "Hello!" he said in a tone that he hoped evoked a ring master, but rather was still bounded by his frail voice.  

The blonde's blue eyes instantly shot to the table, to a tiny, smiling boy with a small tuft of hair above a ruffled grey robe that hung from his thin spread-out arms like lazy vines from a tree. Her eyelids went taut in a moment of shock, a sub-second pause before shrieking a high, murderous shriek, recoiling slightly, and shooting a manicured hand to a discarded magazine, roughly rolling it into a cylinder. 

Pod was struck before he was even attacked by the impromptu weapon; he realised something, and he went totally numb. He was a tiny, not a human, he had almost forgotten that simple fact. What this woman was confronted by was a pest, a vermin, not an equal. She would have no reservations about exterminating him, and would very gladly crush him from existence. He kept his arms spread as he was confronted by the neon-yellow magazine bludgeon, hovering above his head and ready to strike.

"What's wrong?!" Natasha barked, bursting into the room at her friend's shriek. She shot her eyes back and forth between them; Pod, magazine, Veronica, and quickly figured out what was happening. She almost bounded across the room, using the small window provided by her friend's distraction at her entering, and shot an outstretched palm to prevent the stick from making contact. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" she almost screamed at her friend.

"I, uh, I..." she faltered, unable to come up with a response. 

Natasha turned her head, to Pod. He was a sickly ghost white, almost translucent, and he fell onto his backside with his arms still outstretched; later moving them over he knees. Natasha's eyebrows peaked in sympathy; this was more important than some rubbish with her misbehaving friend. She quickly picked him up under the arms and sat him on her palm, although that didn't prevent his status as pale, shivering ball of catatonia. "P-pod, are you okay?"

Pod didn't know what to think. Tiny, he was a tiny, he remembered everything now, as if those cautionary tales had been repressed. He used to be afraid of humans, didn't he? Natasha even. All the concentrated fear of hundreds of childhood nightmares about humans' evil ways, all rushing back. What just happened registered, and he simply couldn't contain the welling pressure from behind his eyes. A fat stream of tears instantly appeared on his face, rushing onto his dry shirt and moistening it in growing patches. He covered his face and allowed his palms to take them, doubling over and pushing himself into her skin. 

Natasha's stomach dropped to her feet; this was the thing she had wished she'd never have to see again. She was frustrated, there wasn't anything she could do right now to simply turn off the stream; but that frustration was eclipsed by a blinding rage for her friend. But not now, soon. "There, there, Pod, I'm here for you, Natasha's here," she soothed in her most vibrant, breathy and comforting tone, holding a finger on his back to let him know he had physical affection. "I won't let the bad woman get you, you're completely safe."

Veronica was almost as shocked as Pod, what she had done beginning to sink in. Was this really her friend? She was slightly disgusted really, that she'd keep one of those THINGS as a pet. "Y-you named him?" she asked, the only question she could muster at this moment.

Natasha heard the question and burst, her rage bubbling over, "No! His parents named him!" she barked, a strand of hair dislodging and falling over her eye, "What WAS that? Were you seriously going to kill him?!" she continued her rant.

Pod withdrew his tear stained face into his collar in fear. He had never seen her so angry, she was frankly terrifying; to have so much violence packed inside her gentle body.

"Natasha! It was one of those THINGS!" Veronica responded defensively. Natasha had clearly lost her mind and started taking in little bugs as friends.

The dark haired woman inhaled sharply, furrowing her brow. There were so many things she wanted to chew her out for: how disrespectful she was, how clueless she was about tinies, how she'd still argue despite her living in her house. But she'd need to condense all of that quickly before she frightened the poor thing even more, "Veronica, Pod here is one of my most precious friends, and frankly I care about him MUCH more than you at the moment," she snarled, Veronica clearly offended. "And I'll make it quick and say that if you do something like that again I will kick you out."

Veronica was in total disbelief. This madwoman would chose a bug over her? 

Natasha wasn't a violent person, she had run out of steam with only her brief diatribe, and was looking to end this and get back to Pod, "Just... just apologise to him, okay?" she sighed, extending her palm. She kept her fingers close, keeping Pod very much in their grasp.

Veronica stared in utter bemusement at the bug, it seemed he was even wearing a shirt. Frankly, he looked pathetic; pale, shivering and curled up like a millipede. Apologising to an insect? Ridiculous. Although, slight humiliation was preferable to souring a friendship and temporary homelessness, "I'm... sorry?" she said, in something far removed from confidence. 

Pod was simply so startled and afraid he muttered out, "Okay," before completely cowering again.

Natasha inhaled, a slight sense of relief, at least. It was strange she realised, she never really considered their relationship as anything other than 'natural'. But she did recall what she thought of them before he was found: she didn't, she'd never met one, or heard any horror stories about the elusive Lilliputians; Veronica probably only saw them as pests and vermin, which was no doubt from unfounded myths and ignorance of their society. She'd go into more detail later, although she might miss several of the more 'intimate' things they'd shared. "Veronica, I know you probably think this is weird, but really, they're just like us," she sighed, "I'll get the tea."

The friendlier older woman marched into the kitchen and sighed when she presumed she was out of direct earshot, bringing her tenderly sealed palm up and checking in on the weak boy. "P-Pod, I'm so sorry," she said, the residual anger turning to sadness and choking her. She felt so infinitely guilty, the possibilities and regrets running through her mind; 'what if I'd been a second too late?' 'what if I hadn't forgotten she was coming?' 'what if I've traumatised him by yelling?'. 

Pod looked at her, as if a soldier looking up to a superior captain after injury; a touch of pain, a draw of sympathy, and a sense of betrayal. But Pod wasn't interested in making her feel any guiltier, he wanted one thing: a hug. He threw his arms up and begged to receive affection, and in response he was dropped on Natasha's shoulder by her neck. He lunged at the flesh-toned pillar and grabbed at it for all he was worth, nuzzling against it and seeking the warmth only his dearest friend and carer could provide. "D-do I really need to live with her?" he asked, his imagined puppy-dog eyes unseen to her.

"Y-yes, I'm sorry."

Pod whimpered.

Meanwhile, Veronica sat down with crossed legs. That whole thing was weird, she was simply reacting on instinct to crush a bug, she'd done it many times before. She'd never really thought about those tiny things, she'd just heard they were bugs and was unnerved by their weird appearance. Her other friend had an infestation, and they'd almost eaten her out of house and home, not to mention the dirt they'd leave and scampering around the wall; just like any pest. But Natasha had said 'they're just like us', and that sounded ridiculous!... But did that thing actually say 'okay'?

---

Pod stared as if down a scope at Veronica, the monumental villain opposite to him on the table. He tightened his green eyes in suspicion, worried that at any moment Veronica would jump across the table and crush him from existence. Although, he knew deep down that would never happen, he was so close to Natasha, in the shadow of the slight lip of the plate, that she'd be able to protect him. 

When Pod's desire to eat became greater than the threat of Veronica, he'd poke at the slab of meat ahead of him, on his bottle cap 'table', and take a few tender strands to nibble on.

Veronica also ate her much more impressive, although not relatively, steak, attempting to ignore the rude little boy whose eyes could be felt on her. She was slightly disturbed that Natasha let it eat at the table, but if it kept away from her food, she wouldn't complain so much. She couldn't help occasionally looking its way, a blank expression on her face, not affording it the effort of an expression. 

Natasha could feel the tension on the air, the awkward silence was oppressive. She nudged at her meal with a fork, turning potential solutions over in her head; this situation seemed like a stalemate. Natasha rolled her eyes mentally, if this was a single dinnertime how would the rest of the time be? Natasha realised she couldn't stand days like this, "So... ummm... Pod," she threw out, attracting attention and deciding on who to address, "Why don't you tell Veronica about how we met?" she said jovially, with a cheek-expanding smile.

Pod stared at her, little dot eyes wide and deer-like. He shook his head back and forth almost like a shiver, he didn't want to talk to her. 

Natasha swallowed a mouthful, eyes begging him to comply. He continued to shiver, shooting looks over his bottle-cap to the blonde enemy. Inhaling through her nose, she turned to her friend, who wore a slightly bewildered and almost disbelieving expression. "Well, anyway..." she turned back to her meal, "It's quite an adorable story. I found Pod badly injured in the kitchen, right there," she said with a point, "And I just had to help him. It took a few days, he was so scared of me at first, but he eventually recovered well enough. Now he's as fit as a fiddle!" she beamed proudly.

Veronica nodded along with her friend's story, taking in the glimpses of information, "So... why did you decide to help him?" she asked, in a genuine question. She still didn't really 'get' why she was so attached... even if it seemed to be more intelligent that she had originally supposed.

"Well, he was just so... vulnerable. I was a nurse remember? I guess I had some instinct," she shrugged.

"So he looked pathetic basically?" she added coldly.

Natasha glared at her, switching to Pod to check how he took it. He didn't seem too affected, but it was hard to tell with how small and delicate his cute little expressions were. "Y'know, I really think tinies have a raw deal in society."

"Really?" Veronica smirked.

Brushing off her slight rudeness, Natasha continued, "They really are just like us. Pod here's just like any other teenager, really. Well, maybe more humble. Did you know they could speak?" she asked with a waving fork.

"...no," Veronica admitted; she really didn't know how to feel about it either. 

"Yeah, I had no idea. Pod here is talkative once you get to know him," she smiled down at him, who continued to eat his steak; slowing down.

"I'm sure he is..." Veronica said in a somewhat patronising tone. 

Natasha was sensing her friend's pessimism, and realised that perhaps this was going to be harder than anticipated. It seemed like dinner was winding up, and Pod awkwardly sat before the cold slab of meat. Natasha rose from her seat and took both her friends' empty plates; leaving them alone for a tense moment. They eyeballed each other, not taking any particularly dangerous moves, but it was still enough to chill Pod to the core. 

Natasha returned in time to deposit him at her shoulder before his death at the hands of the vicious lioness. He cosied up closer to her than he usually would, and resisted her quaking steps. As Veronica rose from her seat she felt a hand on her shoulder, and turned to see her friend, with her little pet latched to her neck. "Give him a chance, please?" was all she said before leaving.

---

"Are you clean? Have you brushed your teeth?" a pyjama clad Natasha asked to her tiny friend, standing at his pseudo-apartment on her bedside table; sock for bedding, bowl for a bath, tiny boxes for places to store his things, all gathered below the shade of a sensible lamp. 

"Y-yes," he nodded stiltedly, kisses of moisture still steadfast in his hair. It was plain to see he was distressed.

Natasha took a seat on the bed and sighed, her face falling limp in disappointment, "What's wrong Pod?..." she sighed, knowing full well the answer.

"I-I'm sorry Natasha... but... I'm scared..." he squeaked out.

Natasha grimaced, she prayed that all the progress they had made over the months wasn't gone from a stupid hysterical friend. "I'm so sorry Pod, this shouldn't have happened," she groaned, collapsing her face into her palms.  

The sight of the living mountain curled up did little to alleviate his poor mood, it was an awkward situation when they both felt guilty. Pod just dropped to the floor, drooping his head.

Natasha sat up and looked at him, the cutest thing in the world, in a tiny deflated ball. She knew he was the kind of person to struggle to sleep at times like these, so he needed some help. She lifted him up under the arms and gently draped him onto her palm, where he stared up at her face, and felt the very slight aura of heat it emitted at this proximity. "It'll be alright Pod, I promise nothing like this will happen again, and Veronica won't lay a finger on you," her tone was earnest, determined, "You're safe with me, you're always safe with me."

Pod let reassurance well up inside him, and he stroked at her palm, "Thank you Natasha," he smiled.

Natasha thumbed him gentle, and leaned over to tug at the lamp's cord, setting them in darkness. She wriggled under the covers of her bed, and set her open palm on the unoccupied, or rather under-occupied, opposite pillow. They couldn't see each other in the dark, but they could feel each other; Pod was a tiny tickle of fine hair and dainty limbs; Natasha was an organic mountain range of satin skin and subdued warmth. They took comfort from one another in their own way, and after a gentle exchanging of 'good night', they shut their eyes and hoped that tomorrow was better.