Reminiscing
Summary: DG and Ahamo reminiscent about their times on the Otherside.

DG sat in her picture window staring out at the grounds of Finaqua. On the lake a flock of birds sat, some on the shore while others floated on the pristine surface. The hedge maze sat looming in the distance like a built-in security system. The blooming flowers and exotic greenery of the palace garden gave a dream-like quality to the landscape.

'That seems to be the norm in this place,' DG thought sadly. Everything in the O.Z. was so foreign. Believe it or not, she longed for the predictability of her life in Kansas. She'd never been one to follow a strict routine, but at this moment she wished she had one.

A knock on the door drew her attention. "Come in," she called not caring who was there. She would be happy for any company at the moment, any distraction was welcome.

Ahamo came through the door, closing it behind him. "How's it going, Spitfire?"

DG plastered on her best fake smile, the one she normally reserved for grab-ass truck drivers at the Hilltop Café. "I'm fine."

A sad smile graced the Consort's face. "I know we haven't been together in nearly sixteen annuals, but I know when you're lying, DG." He took a few steps and sat opposite his youngest daughter on the window seat. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

DG stared at him for a moment as if trying to discern his motives. 'What possible motives could he have? He's your father for crying out loud!' "It's stupid," she said.

"You miss home?" Ahamo guessed.

DG sighed. "This is my home."

"But you've spent most of your life on the Otherside. It's okay to miss it." Ahamo followed her eyes to the palace gardens where Ambrose and Azkadellia sat chatting. The eldest princess was perched on the ledge of the terrace while the advisor was seated on a chair below her, their legs in constant contact with one another. 'I'll have to talk to her about that little development later.'

"I miss the stupidest things though," DG admitted with a small chuckle. "I miss my hamster Roxy and my motorcycle and my iPod. I even miss waitressing. How sick is that?"

Ahamo looked at her quizzically. "We're going to talk about you riding a motorcycle, but first, what's an iPod?"

DG laughed, "It's this great little device that you can store songs on and listen to anywhere. Momster and Popsicle got it for me for Christmas last year. It holds like 3,000 songs."

"I guess things have changed since the seventies," he mused.

DG's eyes widened. She'd never really considered that he hadn't kept up with the happenings on the Otherside. "You could say that. Although I guess some things are still the same."

"Like what?"

"Well people are still protesting wars, only now they're in a different part of the world," she explained. "I suppose we're not as active in protesting as your generation though."

At this Ahamo laughed. "Well I can't say from experience but Leila told me those protests usually got out of hand."

"Who's Leila?"

"My younger sister," he answered. "She was the original Spitfire. That's where you got the name. You reminded me so much of her when you were younger. Leila used to drive our parents crazy with her protesting and hippie friends."

DG busted out laughing. "My aunt was a hippie? Oh that's priceless." She tried to picture her for a moment, but the visual was really just her father without the mutton chops and with longer hair. This caused another fit of giggles. "I'm sure you were right there with her, weren't you?"

Ahamo's face dropped instantly, his gaze turning out the window. "It's hard to protest a war when you're the one fighting it."

Immediately DG's smile disappeared. She'd never considered that her father had been a draftee. Sure the time frame was right, but it just never occurred to her. "You were in Vietnam?" she asked cautiously.

Ahamo nodded solemnly. "I was drafted six days after my eighteenth birthday. My mother was furious, and my dad…well I think he knew it was inevitable. Leila took it hardest of everyone. I distinctly remember her telling me that she could get me to the Canadian border by morning." His gaze focused on some point beyond the window pane as the memories played out in his mind like an old movie. "I wasn't worried about going to Vietnam though. Most of my friends had been drafted already. I was naïve. I thought we'd all be reunited half way across the world and have a grand old time fighting the commies." His laugh was bitter then, if not a little sad.

"So what happened?" DG ventured. She didn't want to push the issue, but she figured Ahamo had no one on this side that understood him as well as she would. It was a bond they shared and one that DG wouldn't soon forget.

"I went through basic training. That was hell, let me just tell you. I've never had someone screaming in my face before. Even my dad's yelling was nothing compared to drill Sergeant Morris," Ahamo divulged. "That guy was just…mean. There's really no other word for it." He laughed softly.

"You never made it to Vietnam did you?" She wasn't sure what made her say it or where the realization came from. It was almost as though a light bulb was ignited above her head. She knew a few Vietnam vets from working at the Hilltop; they weren't the happiest of people, especially when the topic was brought up. Most of them avoided it out right; others would only talk about little things.

Ahamo's eyes dropped. "We got a long weekend off between basic and deployment. I wanted to take the balloon out one last time. Wind picked up and the rest, as they say—"

"Is history," DG finished. The silence settled between them like a heavy blanket. DG studied her father and for the first time she noticed how run down he looked. 'Fifteen years hiding underground will do that to a person,' she thought. 'Being separated from his family and everything he knew. Having no idea if any of us were still alive. It must have been absolutely terrible.' With emotions washing over her, DG leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her father's neck. A few seconds passed before she felt Ahamo's arms encircling her body, pulling her close.

"I'm sorry," she whispered into his shoulder.

Ahamo leaned back, locking blue eyes with blue eyes. "For what?"

"For all the stuff that happened. The witch and Az. And for you and mother being separated."

"Spitfire, you have got to stop blaming yourself. Everyone is alive and finally safe. I have your mother and you girls safely back in my arms, and nothing is going to change that." Swiping his thumb across her cheek, he wiped away the lone tear that slid from the corner of her eye. Standing to his feet, Ahamo pulled DG to hers and wrapped his arm around her shoulders in a protecting embrace. "No what do you say we head down to the kitchen and see what we can dig up."

DG broke into a smile. "Think they have the stuff here to make a pizza?"

Ahamo laughed. "I'm sure we can make something work. And while we're doing that, you can tell me everything you know about what is going on between Ambrose and your sister."

Should I be doing homework? Yes. Am I? No. Instead I sit here writing random pieces of fanfic for all you lovely people. So if you enjoy it, let me know!!