Flying Lessons

By

St. Bridget

Ch. 1

Try

Steve unfurled his wings and flapped them tentatively, trying to get a feel for them. Today was the day: he was going to learn to fly. Never mind that Danny had strictly forbidden him from trying unless he was there, and refused to teach him every time Steve asked. Danny had stayed late at work to finish paperwork, sending Steve home to watch Matt. Without Danny around to stop him, Steve was determined to teach himself how to fly. Matt was down for a nap and wouldn't wake up for a while, and Steve was sure he'd sense him through their bond, anyway. Danny wouldn't be home for at least another hour. If Steve had his way, Danny would be none the wiser.

Steve flapped his wings again, a little harder this time, and was rewarded by finding himself six inches off the ground. It wasn't much, but it was a start. A few more flaps, and he was six feet off the ground. A little more, and six became 10, then 15. Okay, time to try moving forward. Steve stretched his neck out as if that alone would propel him forward and willed himself to move. It worked—he found himself jerking forward in fits and starts. It wasn't elegant, but he was moving. Steve picked up speed. He was really moving now—straight into the house.

Steve managed to yank himself sideways before he collided with the house, crashing into the bushes instead and taking out a good portion of them. Uh-oh. Danny wasn't going to be happy.

Danny wasn't. He came storming into the house, shouting Steve's name. Steve had been hoping maybe Danny wouldn't notice, but he supposed it was kind of obvious.

"Steven!" Danny yelled, "What in heaven's name have you done?"

Steve tried to find a plausible excuse but came up blank. "Ummm. . ."

He felt Danny probing him through their soulmate bond and tried to hide his guilt. He failed. He saw comprehension dawn on Danny's face. "You were trying to fly, weren't you?"

Steve looked a lot like Grace when Danny called her out on something. "Um, yeah, kinda."

Danny threw up his hands. "What were you thinking?! I told you not to fly without me! You could have taken out the house!"

"But I didn't," Steve countered.

Danny's hands waved energetically. "No, you just took out half the landscaping! We just got it fixed from last time!"

"That was you," Steve pointed out.

Danny was undeterred. "I was sick! I couldn't help it!"

"Neither could I!" Steve protested.

Danny waggled a finger at him. "No, no, you definitely could have. Do you want to know how? BY NOT FLYING IN THE FIRST PLACE!"

Steve was suitably cowed. "Sorry, Danny."

"You'd better be sorry." Danny was in full rant mode. "You are not to do that again, do you here me? You, my friend, are grounded, literally."

Steve hadn't been this dismayed since he was grounded as a teenager. "Grounded! For how long?"

"Until Matt's ready to learn. I might as well teach the two of you together."

"But that's not for another six months!" Steve wailed.

Danny stood firm. "Tough. You are not to even attempt flying during that time, do you understand me?"

Steve hung his head. "Yes, Danny."

"Promise me, Steve. Promise me you will not try flying alone until I teach you."

"Okay," Steve said.

Danny eyed him suspiciously for a moment, then seemed satisfied. "That's settled then. I hope you've learned your lesson."

"Yes, Danny," Steve said meekly, inwardly letting out a sigh of relief. Danny hadn't noticed that he hadn't actually said "I promise," which meant, technically, he hadn't really promised at all. . .