The lucky Fly
by Rain Crow
Zipper buzzed up the spiraling slide that lead up to the hanger and Gadget's workshop. Chip and the fly were organizing files of old evidence to be taken out to the storage locker that they rented inside of the city's public library. The normally cheerful mammal had become a bit taciturn as they'd worked through some of Dale's more "creative" filing efforts, and so had asked Zipper to head upstairs to ask Gadget if she had any files or parts that had been important in any of their cases, thus avoiding inflicting his mood on the sensitive mouse.
Shivering a little as he flew, Zipper remembered why he disliked Fall. It was the end of summer; the gateway to winter, and a time when most of his kind were fortifying themselves against the long, cold months ahead. On the other hand, he was always out with the Rangers, rain, sleet, snow and hail.
Zipper would never say as much to the other Rangers, but he felt each new winter take a little more out of him.
He buzzed up into Gadget's workshop, and found it empty save for scattered parts and a half assembled contraption that he couldn't readily identify. So, he flew on up and into the hanger.
Bingo.
Gadget must have been taking a break. She was sitting on the tree branch outside, watching the setting sunlight weave glittering patterns through the turning leaves. Zipper smiled; he wasn't exactly educated, and wouldn't be able to tell a Picasso from a Rembrandt, but he could still appreciate beauty. His friend was grease stained, disheveled and a bit crusty looking from what must have been a difficult assembly session, but her relaxed poise and the shifting, twilit surroundings were fetching.
He flew out to join her, landing next to the mouse and smiling a greeting. Gadget, who'd heard him buzz outside, smiled back before returning her gaze to the evening. Zipper did the same, and soon they were both locked into the same peaceful trance. A light breeze melted through the leaves, causing dark lines of shadow to dance with deep orange and golden reflections as the last of the day's sunlight reflected off of multicolored surfaces. Gadget reached out with one paw to pat his head affectionately.
Zipper sighed, content. So what if the wind was a little cold? And if his work with the Rangers aged him a little faster than spending the winters holed up in some landfill, what of it? He'd been alone before he'd met Monty, and now he had an important job that had allowed him to see things he'd never before imagined, and meet people he'd never forget; but best of all was that he'd found a family of his very own.
He was one lucky fly.
fin