A/N: Hello 'gain, ev'ry'un! I'mma back ter give y'all 'nuther story 'bout dem chillun, Virgil 'n' Richeh. Dis time 'round it's a continuation of 'Swing Togetha'; the suggestun was made by asm613. T'anks for that, darlin'! Now, as soon 's I stop talkin' like dis, y'all can read 'bout dem two cutie pies watchin' dem fireworks togetha! 'N' after dat, y'all can read 'em seein' each udda at school. How cute'd dat be?

Now git ter readin'! I do believe dat I'm dun talkin'.

It took forever for two days to pass, moving the second of July to the fourth. Finally, finally, it is the day of the fireworks display in the park, and a very eager little Virgil is able to see his new friend Richie again!

"Mommy, can I bring my lightsabers to the park? I told Richie last time that we could play with them, and it would look so cool to have them light up in the dark!" he requests sweetly, putting on his best puppy-dog face.

Jean leans down, grinning softly at her son. "Sure, baby. But don't lose them!" She taps his nose with her finger.

"Oh, come on, Mom, d'ya really think I'd wanna lose my lightsabers?" the young Virgil says while crossing his small arms over his chest. "I'm goin' into first grade! I can be res… rest… restponsitibble."

"Responsible?"

"Yeah, that."

His mother stifles a laugh behind her hand. "Yes, I'm sure you can be responsible, sweetie. But still be careful. We don't want Francis taking your toys again."

"Humph, who cares about Francis. He's just a big fat meanie-face," Virgil grumbles. He shrugs a moment later, and heads off to his room to fetch his Star Wars toy merchandise. He comes down with two armfuls of extendable, light-up wonder. "Okay, mommy, let's go! I wanna be early so's no one takes our spot."

"What spot, dear?" his mother asks as she rounds up Sharon and hands her a few glow sticks and a bag of cotton candy.

"Duh, mine 'n' Richie's spot next to the swing! Someone might take it 'cause it's the best spot! You even said that you can see the fireworks real good from up there!" Virgil exclaims, and doesn't pay attention as his mother drops two glow stick necklaces over his head and stuffs a bag of cotton candy in the crook of his arm.

She laughs. "Oh, that spot. Well then, we better hurry; you're right, it is the best for viewing the lightshow. Why don't you hop in the car, and I'll go find your daddy? I bet he's dawdling again, talking to the neighbors." She feigned disappointment in her husband by rolling her eyes and shaking her head lightly.

"Okay, Mommy," Virgil agrees, and races off towards the car. As Sharon begins to walk toward the door to join him, her mother tells her to make sure to buckle her brother in, because heaven knows that he won't bother to. Giggling at the truth in the words, Sharon nods her consent and heads out the door.

One fussy car ride later, the four arrive, and as Robert parks the car in line with the others on the side of the street, Virgil is already unbuckling himself and gathering up his things, preparing to be the first one out of the car. Once his daddy stops completely and unbuckles himself, Virgil shoots out the side door and gallops off towards the entrance into the park.

"Virgil, sweetie, wait for us!" his mother hollers to his retreating back. She sighs. "Robert, take Sharon while I catch up with him."

"Sure thing, honey," the social worker complies with a smile. He takes his daughter's hand and watches his wife jog ahead in her sneakers up to her son. He chuckles heartily at the sight, and glances down at Sharon. "Your brother is even more excited than usual this year."

"Yeah," Sharon sighs without much interest, "That's 'cause he's got a new friend, some blond-haired boy. I dunno his name. All's I know is, Daddy, he's going to meet the kid up on that hill with the oak tree on top. Y'know, the one with his favorite swing?"

"Yes, I know the one," Robert chuckles. "It's nice that he's got a playmate. He doesn't have friends like you do, pumpkin."

"Heh, yeah. But that's 'cause he's weird, and I'm not. I'm pretty. Aren't I pretty, Daddy?" Sharon says with a bat of her eyelashes.

Robert winks at her. "The prettiest girl on Earth."

She giggles, and they stop as Jean approaches them. "I set up the blanket at the base of the hill so that we can keep an eye on Virgil. He's up there with his own blanket, waiting for his friend. Isn't it cute? I'm glad that he's found a friend."

"I was just telling Sharon the same thing," Robert relays with a small smile as he opens up two portable chairs on top of their picnic blanket. Sharon sprawls out on the floral print on her stomach, a glow stick being twirled around her thin finger.

"Mommy, when do we get our sparklers?" the young girl asks, but she only gets a quick answer of 'soon' while her mother gazes up at the glow of the nearly-gone sun to find a fair-topped mop of hair bobbing up from the other side of the hill, and a broad grin splitting across her son's face.

On the hill, Virgil leaps up and waves energetically. "Richie! Hey, Richie!"

The blond boy runs the rest of the way up the hill and, without hesitating, hugs the mocha child. "Hiya V!"

They release one another, giggling a little, and plop down on Virgil's blanket. Virgil reaches over to the trunk of the tree, where his swords are propped up against the bark. He hands the red one to Richie. "'Member when I said we could play with these? Well, I brought 'em! Here, you can have Vader's, and I'll have Luke's. But let's not turn 'em on and fight 'til it's dark out, okay? That way, they'll be really bright and look real!"

"Okay!" Richie complies. He grips the sword like a true Jedi master. "This is so cool. I wish I had one of these; makes me feel like I'm from the movie!" He makes a buzzing noise, and swishes the sword in the air. He bashes it against his leg, making a crashing noise. "Oh no, I've been hit! Now my leg'll fall off!"

Virgil laughs, and pulls on his sword to match Richie's. He pokes the blond with the end of it. "Uh-oh, looks like your heart just got burn'ded."

Richie's face scrunches up. "Ew, heartburn! My dad has to take medicine for that."

"…What does that do?"

Richie shrugs. "I dunno. Maybe it makes your heart grow back after it's been burned."

"Whoa, that's awesome! D'ya think it'd make you grow another heart if you took some when you didn't have heartburn?" Virgil says excitedly.

"Maybe! That'd be so awesome, to have two hearts. That way, if one gets hurt, you'd still have the other one, and that way, you wouldn't die!" Richie joins in, his smile bright enough to make Virgil's smile grow further.

"We should try it!"

"Yeah! But we can't get caught, else my dad would get mad at me for taking his medicine."

"Oh, right," Virgil whispers. He narrows his eyes and leans in, his fingers wriggling in midair. "We'll have to be sneaky, then."

"Yeah, sneaky-sneaky," Richie whispers in return, his eyes also squinted. Then they both laugh.

"Hey, want some cotton candy? My mom gave me a whole big bag of it," Virgil offers as soon as their laughter settles down. By now, the sun is completely set, and the stars are twinkling through the city smog. The fireworks should be starting any minute now…

"Yes please!" Richie says hurriedly, being mindful of his manners but too eager to sound very polite. He opens his hands, and Virgil places a whole bundle of blue fluff in them. Richie devours it immediately. "Mm, I love cotton candy."

"Me too," the mocha boy says around a melting mouthful of the sugary fluff. Suddenly, a streak of green lights the sky, exploding into a willow-tree shape. "Wow! Look, Richie! It's starting!!"

"Ooh, pretty…" the blond murmurs, his eyes sparkling. Another goes off, and then another next to it, red and white. Then a gold one that crackles and sparkles. And then three blue ones that look like planets.

"Richie, how d'ya figure they make them in all those colors?" Virgil asks in a soft, mystified tone.

"I always thought it was magic."

"Magic? Like, elves and wizards and stuff?"

Richie nods as he leans back on his palms. "Something like that. How else can they be in all those shapes and stuff? It has to be magic. My mom says that fireworks came from China, and everybody knows that China has dragons, so maybe fireworks are made by dragon-magic."

Virgil thinks this over as he hands another piece of cotton candy to Richie, and then pops a piece in his own mouth. "Hmm, makes sense. Fireworks look kinda like fire from a dragon, and like their scales. I heard that dragon scales are really tough, so I bet when they hit the sky, that's what makes that loud boom."

"Yeah, because everyone knows that the sky is just the top of the ball the Earth is inside of. Like a snow globe."

Virgil whips his head around to stare at Richie. "Exactly! Finally, someone who gets it," he grins. Richie returns his gaze, as well as his smile.

The blond cocks his head to the side as another firework, a great big yellow one in the shape of a smiley face, lights the cityscape. "Virgil?"

"Yeah?"

The blond fidgets and glances down at his hands as he leans up and folds into Indian-style sitting. He grips his ankles. "I know you said that you'd sit next to me in school and be my friend, but do you mean it? 'Cause I had this old friend from preschool, and I thought we were gonna be friends forever, but when we went into kindergarten he started picking on me like all the other kids in my class. You won't do that, right?"

The mocha boy looked flabbergasted and outraged. "What? No way! That's so mean. Why'd they do that?"

Richie shrugs. "Dunno. Maybe I'm not as fun and cool as they are. They all like Pokemon and stuff, and I like old things like Star Wars. But kindergarteners aren't big kids yet like first graders are, so maybe things will be different?"

It sounds like a question, so Virgil answers it. "Of 'course things will be different. And if they aren't, then who cares? I promise not to be mean to you, Richie. 'Cause to me, you're fun-er and cooler than all of those other kids."

"Really?" he mumbles hopefully as the fireworks hum above them.

"Really," Virgil says seriously. He takes Richie's hand, which feels as sticky as his own does from the cotton candy, but also feels nice and warm. "I'm not like your other friend; I will be your friend forever, I mean it."

Richie blushes shyly. "Thanks."

"Now let's get back to watching the fireworks! We're missing all the best ones."

And so they watch the rest together, jumping up and cheering during the finale as a bazillion go off all at once, coating the sky in bright colors, smoke, and explosions. Then, when it's all said and done, the two pick up their lightsabers and begin battling it out as they move down the hill and ignore all of the people exiting the park.

"Richie, Richie Foley! Richard Osgood Foley, answer your mother!" an Irish woman hollers over the crowd about five minutes into the galactic battle.

"Uh-oh," Richie groans, "I hear my mom callin' me." He sighs and turns off the light on the red saber. "I hafta go, V."

"Aww, but we just started!" Virgil complains. He, too, sighs and turns off the light on his blue saber.

Richie squashes down the sword and hands it to his friend. "Bye."

Virgil pouts up a storm and stomps his foot. "It's not fair! I wanna keep playing with you."

"I know, but I gotta go home and go to bed, it's past my bedtime." The blond opens his arms, and Virgil hugs him. "I'll see you in school. That's not too long, right?"

"Yes it is," Virgil grumbles irritably as he lets go. "And I dunno how I can see you before that."

Maggie appears behind the two. "There you are," she says gently as she crouches down in front of her son. "Come on, Richie, your dad's waiting in the car for us." She smiles thinly over at Virgil, and again he sees the tiredness in her eyes and smile. "Hello, Virgil."

"Hi Mrs. Foley," he says, remembering her name this time. "Does Richie really have to go?"

"Unfortunately, yes he does," she tells him. She picks up her son, who's small for his age. He clings to her, but hangs off of her hip enough to glumly glance down at his friend. Maggie notices this, and quickly thinks up a plan. "Virgil, where's your mommy? Maybe I can come up with a play-date for you two."

Virgil brightens. "You can?"

The woman nods. "Yes. But I need to talk to your mom about it. Can you go get her?"

"Sure! Wait a sec," he says as he bolts around the hill and finds his parents and sister packing up. "Mom, mom!" he yells. "Mom, I need you to come talk to Mrs. Foley!"

His mother says something to his father, and then walks over to him. "To who, sweetie?"

"Richie's mom, Mrs. Foley. She says she wants to make a play-date!"

"Oh, I see," his mother grins down at him. She takes his hand. "Let's go make that happen, then."

They return to where the two Foleys stand, and as the mothers converse, Richie is placed back on his own two feet beside Virgil. The two try to listen in and comprehend what's happening, but they're lost by Maggie's nervous expression while she explains why Virgil can't come to Richie's house because his dad is currently laid off, thus at home all day long, which is bad because he has "issues". Jean understands, but the two boys couldn't be more confused or less caring.

Giving up on eavesdropping, the two turn to one another and beam. "When you come over, we can watch Power Rangers and my mom can make us PB&J sammiches."

"I like mine with strawberry jam. What's your favorite?"

"I dunno; my mom always gives me this dark purple jam that's not grape. I think she said it was blackberry or something. I'm not sure what it is, I just like how it tastes with the peanut butter."

Pretty soon, the mothers are done and have to interrupt the boys' conversation about the different Rangers, and how the green one is better than the red one, and oh no, the red one is way better than the green, and so on, back and forth.

"Time to go, Virgil," Jean informs her son as she takes his hand again and gives it a teeny squeeze.

Maggie picks up her own son once more. "Thanks for understanding."

"No problem," the medic replies with a gentle smile.

"Bye, Richie!" Virgil calls over his shoulder as the two mothers pace towards their awaiting husbands.

The blond boy waves from his perch in his mother's arms. "Bye, Virgil! See you later!"

'Later' this time being on Sunday after church. And then two or three times a week after that up until school began.

And the two children couldn't be more satisfied with that arrangement.