So. I wrote this in November 2013, it was just a short fluff piece that I didn't feel compelled to cross-post beyond Tumblr, but the follow-up to two more fics I'd previously written in the same AU. (The first of those, "Time and Again," is a Rachel/Tobias fic written for the Tobias theme month.)

Anyway, due to some complicated AU-ish reasons, I'm uploading the others, and I thought this should come as well. It's obviously the sequel to "Time and Again."

"We were having an argument," says Cassie.

"You two," says Rachel. "An argument. Great. Dare I ask over what?"

This is Cassie the Animorph and Marco, also the Animorph, she's talking with. Some friends have arguments about how to get their friends together. Some have arguments about who gets the last cinnamon roll. When Cassie and Marco argue, well, how many species' fates hang in the balance?

That's not to say they don't argue about other things, too, and Rachel regrets stepping into the conversation as soon as Marco answers "Speed. A need for speed."

"All right. Well. I'll leave you to it."

"Because, look, if you want to make a long-distance trek, you're going to need a Z-Space trip, right?" Marco continues. "But there comes a time when the time dilation is too screwy, so you might as well use real space. Then when you're in atmosphere, there's a distance after which it's too dangerous to use a real spaceship, you're better off taking a plane. And so on, and so forth, the fastest ship in the fleet isn't always best for getting the job done."

"Yeah, I'm sure you'd know all about needing to slow down."

"Oh, come on," says Cassie, "leave her out of this, Marco, I'm just saying—"

"Leave me out of this what? No, have you talked to Jake about this? He'd probably be interested in comparing intergalactic fleets…"

"He's such a showoff, him and his peregrine falcon."

"And this is why we don't put him in charge of the entire Earthling fleet. It's not all about air speed, sometimes you need firepower. Am I right?"

Cassie rolls her eyes. "Boys and their toys."

"Hey, watch it," says Rachel, "I'm with Marco, the right weapon for any fight is going to depend on all kind of scenarios. Air or space."

"Uh-huh. And outnumbered in space, you're still out of luck, so you might as well be fast."

"Get the right ship and you can stop the fight before it starts."

"Are you challenging me?"

"I don't know. How many spaceships can you acquire on short notice?"

Marco glances at his wrist. "Shoot, I think I've maxed out my weekly quota."

"That's what I'm saying about taking it slow," Cassie glares. "Maybe something a bit more down to earth?"

"Not literally," says Rachel, "I should hope."

"Let's go flying," Marco says. "I'll race you, both."

"Oh, let's not," Cassie cuts in. "The media will have a field day, three birds in almost-formation?"

"Hey, we can handle them!" says Rachel. "There're enough false spottings anyway, one more won't make much difference."

"I guess…"

"Sure you do," Marco pats her on the back. "C'mon."

And so that evening they're flying, coasting out over the sea, Marco and Cassie trash-talking each other as they hover over a low wave, then breaking closer and closer to the oncoming waves, egging each other on.

It's Rachel who dives first, screeching as she plunges towards the surface of the water and then slowly rising again. The sea is dark, no prey to latch onto beneath, but a bounce of the light or a strand of floating seaweed might as well be an unfortunate animal, as she tosses them amid the eagle's talons and then, exhausted, tries to let the eagle take over, gradually gaining altitude to catch up with her friends. But they still have their race to contest, and it's an effort to keep up with them before the time comes to demorph, out of sight.

"I still say you cheat," Marco mutters.

"Yeah, yeah," says Cassie. If you're so great then next time you won't have any trouble beating me two out of three, will you? Rachel can judge."

"Forget judging," says Rachel, "I can beat him myself."

"Two girls fighting over me?" Marco sighs. "It's a hard life, this heroism business."

"I'd deck you for that, but you wouldn't even have to duck."

"All right, that's enough of that."

"Hey, thanks for inviting me," Rachel says to Cassie, "that was fun."

"Oh, sure!" Cassie smiles. "Definitely come back, for the so-called rematch or whatever."

"I'll have to practice. I'm a little out of shape."

"Well. Morphing solves that!"

"I mean, I'm rusty. It's…been a while."

Cassie nods. "Tobias?"

"Yeah. I—I don't know, it doesn't seem fair, for me to be able to fly and everything when that was his life, and now we can't share it—"

"He knows how to deal with being a nothlit. You don't. You've got all these DNA in you, might as well let it out."

Rachel nods. It's a thrill, having talons and a snaring beak, having wings to taunt the world below, and if she's not shredding Taxxons beneath her claws—well, she doesn't miss it, per se. But maybe really being a predator for two hours at a time is a nice change of pace, a way to make sure her instincts don't find some other way to change her from the inside out. "Thanks."

"Sure. See you around."

And, even later, "Told you it'll work."

Marco sighs at Cassie's scheming grin. "Okay, okay. I was wrong. And for once, I don't see a need to make it two out of three."