Sam was putting his foot down this time. He really, really was. "No. Nuh-uh. Absolutely not. We already have two kittens. Three is too many."

Bucky held up the small black kitten, who mewed plaintively and rubbed its head against his chin. It was not cute. It wasn't. "C'mon, Sam. Like you said, we've already got two. What's one more?"

Two pleading pairs of eyes blinked at him, one pair yellow-green, the other baby blue, and Sam folded like a cheap suit. "Fine. But you're getting another litter box if we do!"