Title: The Days of Summer
Rating: G. I don't see anything in here that constitutes a higher rating. If you feel offended by something I say, then leave. There's no swearing (besides 2 mentions of the word "ass" in the authors note that no one reads anyways) or hot, wild sex, so whatever.
Pairing: Hints of Mal/Wing if you squint real hard.
Author's Note: This is just something I've had laying around that I haven't had the time or energy to post until now. I ask that anything you have to say about this fic, you leave in the reviews section of I can take it like a big girl if you have something mean to say, I promise. I'm not going to be a flaming little emo kid and delete reviews from people who think my story sucks, honest. Flames will be used against you as I lay the ownage on you via email. Anonymous flames will be laughed at because anyone who sends an anonymous flame is a pussy that hides behind the safety of their computer screen all the while claiming to be so tough and bad-ass. Pansies. If you're really that tough, then leave an email address so I can send your 35-year old lard-ass out of your parent's basement for the first time in 10 years and crying to mommy. Reviews are nice, but not necessary. That is all.
The Days of Summer – A ficlet
It was summer time in Anaheim, California. Mallory was sitting on the roof, catching the quickly disappearing rays of the sun in a vain attempt at tanning. She cursed her pale skin and feathers, feeling a slight burning sensation on the skin just under her eyes. She always forgot why she got a bad feeling about going outside without SPF 45 sunscreen in the blistering heat, and every summer she was reminded with singed feathers and lobster-red skin after one short outing in the great outdoors. She always seemed to forget that this wasn't Puckworld, and that the sunlight here was much harsher than that of her previous planet of residence.
Wildwing walked out onto the roof, and Mallory turned around to watch him take a seat in the lawn chair next to hers.
"You're looking a little burnt there, Crispy McFrizzyHair…"
"Gee, thanks Captain Obvious, I couldn't tell that my skin was on fire from the extremely painful burning sensation alone. And leave my hair out of this; it's the humidity. I swear, a storm's com-"
As if on cue, a few rumbles of thunder shook the sky from the storm clouds that had been growing darker as the day wore on; edging closer and closer towards them. Mallory and Wildwing looked around as a few droplets of rain began to fall from the heavens.
"Am I good, or am I good?" Mallory grinned as the weather she had predicted mere seconds ago came to life right in front of them.
"You're going to be nothing but soaked if you don't find something to stand under. I don't know about you, but I'm getting the flock out of dodge."
He grabbed her by the arm as they ducked under the awning that had been set up for the party they were going to be having in a few days' time to celebrate their second anniversary of arriving on Earth. They watched as the few drops of rain became a heavy downpour, and the few rumbles of thunder grew in intensity, joined by the occasional bolt of lightning.
"You know, if we ever make it back to Puckworld, I'm going to miss these summer thunderstorms. You just can't beat 'em."
"Hmmm, Puckworld. Home, sweet home." Wildwing's voice was full of longing for his planet of birth. Mallory almost felt sorry for him, knowing that he was so homesick for his planet of birth, "almost" being the operative word. While he was stranded on a foreign planet a whole universe apart, he had his brother, a blood relation to be with him. Plus, they'd landed on a planet similar to their own, oxygen-rich atmosphere and all. "Do you think we'll ever see it again, Mal?"
"I dunno. Maybe. If we do, we do, and if we don't, then we don't." The air was silent, save the rumbling thunder, and she saw Wing's face grew dismal at her words. Apparently, Mallory decided, she was much better at handling the reality of situations than Wildwing was. She sighed, "Don't tell me you're still so homesick after all this time?"
"What do you mean?"
"Wildwing, how many years has it been since we left?"
"We're just shy of two, but what does that have to do with anything?"
"Think about it, Wing. Do you even think that we'd have anything to go back to after all this time? I mean, any jobs we once held have surely been filled by now. Our families, if they still exist, are moving on without us. Hell, we don't even know if Puckworld made it after we drove Dragaunus out. For all we know, it could have been obliterated after we left. It's not going to be the same Puckworld we left behind, at any rate."
"And? It's home Mallory, it's where we belong. We have to get back there, with our own kind, with our families."
"Really now? Wildwing, here on Earth, we KNOW what's what. We know that we're needed, we know what our jobs are, we have a position in society, we've started new lives. We have a huge, safe underground fortress where we can do as we please. We have each other, and you know what? You guys are the most family and friends that I've ever had in my twenty-four years of existence. I don't know about you, but to me this is more like home than Puckworld ever was."
With that, Mallory got up and headed towards the door. Just as she was about to close it behind her, she was stopped short by Wildwing's voice. He claimed the door from her grasp and peeked through the crack to see an eye and a few errant locks of red hair.
"I guess it's true what they say, that home is where the heart is."
"Yeah, I guess it is…And I take it that yours still lies in that frozen chunk of ice we used to live on, huh?"
"Oh, you'd be surprised…" He muttered as she walked down the stairs and into the main entrance, "You'd be surprised…"
He took one last glance at her retreating form and let the door shut in front of him. He sat back out in the few rays of sun that peeked through the clouds and knew that somehow, Mallory was right. For the first time in his life on Earth, Wildwing wondered whether the fight to get back to Puckworld was really worth it at all.
End.