Tigra toweled off her hair as she left the bathroom. She'd just soaked in a hot bath for an hour or so, putting to rest the myth that cats hate water... at least, the ones that used to be human, anyway.
She yawned. It had been a rough day. The pads of her foot still throbbed a little from the injury, but it was healing nicely. What's more, she felt a queer sort of energy, like everything was easier to do. She also noticed that her suit felt a little snug. The straps dug into her shoulders and hips, squeezing her breasts.
"Darn it, Jarvis," she grunted, retying her top. "This is drip-dry, not machine-dry!"
Her stomach rumbled. The bath had made her a little hungry, so she padded on down to the pantry.
The cavernous kitchen had enough ovens, ranges, grills, gadgets and clean surfaces to run a four-star restaurant, but for now, it was fairly empty. She passed by Captain America, who was gulping down a cup of ginger tea.
"Hi Steve," she greeted. "Still feeling that sonic pulse?"
He smiled weakly. "It hit me harder than I thought. I haven't had an upset stomach since Roosevelt was in office."
"You'll bounce back," Tigra said cheerfully. "I did!" She opened the fridge and saw a juicy-looking steak. She licked her lips and slid it into the microwave. A few minutes later, she pulled it out and bit into it, relishing the warm meat.
"Greer...? Don't you usually eat it grilled?"
Tigra looked from Cap to her meal, dripping juice on the floor.
"Sometimes I like it this way," Tigra said quickly, taking another bite. She did feel a little confused. She never ate her meat done lighter than rare. This was so good, though! It was body-warm and juicy. Tony never bought anything but the finest cuts, so it was also fantastically tender, like it could have been cut from the cow an hour ago.
"Well, ah, enjoy," Cap said, turning a little green. "I'm gonna go sweat out this queasiness in the sauna."
He slid off his stool and left Tigra to her meal. She attacked the steak with gusto, tearing off chunks and gulping them down until nothing was left but a toothmarked bone. Her fingers were sticky from the raw meat juice. She sucked them clean and wiped her face with a towel, tossing the bone in the trash.
Tigra realized she'd just eaten eighteen ounces of fresh steak. It took a moment to realize she was feeling something else...