One cold, murky day in April, when trails of tire-scored snow scarred the roads and winter clung to earth and sky with the strength of a lunatic, Fox sat in the waiting room of the Green Street car body shop, and listened to a television anchorman drone on about nothing.
The news reporter had been droning on for some time now, muffled voice melting in and out of the quiet like a tide. The television sat in a corner by the door into the garage, where just beyond a hazy pane of glass, a lone repairman could be seen trotting about an ink-black Hummer, pulling, every few seconds, at his mortifyingly low pants.
Frost blurred the other windows, where cars and people passed in splotches of movement.
Fox's eyes roved from one icy window to the other, and then to the tip of his nose, where he slowly exhaled and watched his breath drift into the air. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Nana doing the same: gently breathing, watching her breath drift like the morning mist shrouding Nintendo City. Ness, seated in the three-legged chair, was too preoccupied with keeping himself warm to engage in such trifling diversions.
"Ness," said Fox. His voice was crisp, a novelty in the hush. "I told you you should've dressed more warmly."
Ness glanced up, eyes slit, jaw square with defiance. His round face was flushed with the cold, and he turned away, flushing further with irritation. Fox saw a corner of Nana's mouth turn up. She caught him looking at her, smiled, and buried herself deeper into her parka.
"Can you please stop fidgeting?" Ness snapped.
Nana swiveled her fur-lined head. "I'm sorry," she said, in a voice void of all pity. "Was I keeping you warm?" She glanced significantly at her companion's shorts and light jacket.
Ness shifted his weight with a moody huff, and the chair, its equilibrium shattered, lurch forward onto the leg it did not have. There was a startled, "Dang—!" and Ness and chair fell in a heap on the ice-cold linoleum.
Ness shot upright, became tangled in the chair, and struggled. Fox was too tired and cold to chuckle, but Nana grinned. After several moments, Ness dislodged himself, twisted into the center of the room, and uttering a curtailed oath, kicked the chair back into place.
The old lady by the door gave him a strange look.
"It was warm last week," Ness snarled. "Freaking warm last wee—" His voice broke and went soprano; Nana bit her hand too late to prevent the escape of a spasmodic laugh.
"Sit here," said Fox, pulling his crossed arms closer to his chest, and nodding to a vacant seat. Ness twitched and obeyed, stiff with embarrassment. His new chair had wobbly legs, and shook beneath him as he sat. Nana gulped, grinned, and giggled.
"Stop it," hissed Ness.
"I don't know why you're so angry," she replied.
Ness snapped around to the black television, and fixed his gaze upon the small, indistinct images. Nana, perceiving herself ignored, fell into a singsong murmur, and began to play with her nails, picking at the cracked and ineptly applied fingernail polish that coated them. "Young Link didn't do a very good job," she whispered, and smiled dreamily. "Not good at all..."
Her whispers grew inaudible. Ness stared resolutely at the screen, and Fox, turning lazily, sluggishly, did likewise. There was nothing special about the TV, nor the news. And yet, somehow, the television fascinated him, enchanting despite its ugliness.
The repairman came into the room.
The old lady by the door started, and the repairman said, "Mr. Fox." He wiped his oil-stained hands on a cloth.
"Yes?" Fox tore his gaze from the TV, and stood.
The man was looking apologetic; Fox imagined ruptured batteries and imploding engines, courtesy of a simple job badly done. "Mr. Fox," said the repairman, wiping his hands again (Mewtwo would call it an obsessive compulsive gesture), "we got the new tire on."
"Glad to hear that."
"But the heater is broken."
"And just what were you doing messing with the heater?"
The man's shoulders twitched. "Well, you see..." He paused, and then said something professional and arcane about cars and car parts and that obscure connection between the tire and the heating system. Fox rolled his eyes heavenward, and gave a little sigh.
"I see." He paused. "How much do you charge to fix it?"
"Oh... just a couple hundred dollars... somewhere in that range," said the man evasively, wiping his hands.
"How long will it take you to fix it?"
"An hour or so."
Ness gave a compulsive twitch from somewhere behind Fox.
"All righty then." Fox sighed again, folding his arms more tightly against his chest. "Do you think you could give me a precise estimate of the cost?"
"Sure," said the man, and plodded into a room marked EMPLOYEES ONLY THNX.
"Another hour?" snarled Ness.
"Appears so," said Fox, glancing back, smiling ruefully.
"But my philosophy class starts in thirty minutes," said Ness, voice dilating.
"I can call Roy, if you'd like."
Ness was momentarily silenced. "But... he's out shopping with Marth," he said at last. "And Marth has a new John Tesh album."
"And the problem is...?"
"Marth's in an angsty moooood," Nana provided, doing a Plantana dance. Ness glared at her.
"The library's only twenty-five minutes from here," Fox replied, rocking on his heels.
"Yeah, but..." Ness was growing pale.
"You just like riding in Mr. Fox's Hummer," said Nana. Ness gritted his teeth.
"Quit!" he snarled.
"Quit what?" Nana retorted, rebellion in her tone.
"Mr. Fox?" said the repairman.
"Yeah?"
"It'll be 250."
"You're eating up my salary!" said Fox, laughing grimly.
The man smiled painfully, and wiped his hands.
"So... do you want us to...?"
"Sure. Fix it," said Fox. Ness spluttered.
The repairman nodded. "Okie-dokie. It'll be done somewhere around eleven fifteen. Mrs. Perkins?" He turned to the old lady by the door. "The Cadillac was looking fine, just needed an oil change, but then there was an issue with the rearview mirror; it snapped off when I was—um..."
The lady moaned.
"Fox!" Ness wailed. "FOX!"
"That's my name," said Fox, seating himself and pulling out his cell phone.
"Why?"
"I'm not about to spend this stretch of winter-spring bundled up like I'm on my way to the Arctic in my own Hummer," Fox replied, dialing a number, and shooting Ness a dry glance. "The only reason I'm always running the streets is to escape that icehouse Peach insists on calling a… I have no idea what she calls it." He shook his head, pressed the phone to his ear. "I wonder if she understands the logic behind heaters…"
"So the only reason you so generously agreed to taken Ness and me to the library was to get out of the icehouse?" asked Nana, with more than a little sarcasm in her tone.
Fox grinned. "Brilliant display of logic, little lady—Oh—ah—hey there - Marth? Yeah... hi... This is Fox. You and Roy still on the road?" The repairman slammed his way back into the garage; Fox paused. "You are? Oh, good... great. Hey, could you swing by AutoService right quick? Yeah, that one on Green. Ness here wants—needs—to go to the library for his philosophy class at ten forty-five. Yeah... yeah... I was going to take him, but these idiots at AutoService did something to the heater, so I gotta stay here for a little while... yeah..." Another pause. "Great. You'll be by at what time? Ten-thirty? Sounds good to me. Ok. Thanks. See ya. Bye."
Fox lowered the phone, switched it off as he spoke: "Marth said Roy'll be happy to take you to the library. They'll be here in fifteen minutes."
The corners of Ness's mouth drooped, and he shrugged.
"It won't be that bad," said Fox.
"Can I come?" Nana shoved back the hood of her parka to reveal flushed cheeks and an abundance of fuzzy curls. "The crafts workshop starts at eleven."
Fox shrugged. "Sure. I guess."
Ness clucked disapprovingly. "You're too little to be wandering around the library by yourself until then," he said, glowering.
"Dang it Ness, I'm eleven-years-old!" Nana snapped, turning on him, face flushing even brighter. "Really - Popo's less of a mother bear, and he's my brother."
"Kids." Fox grimanced at the pair.
"I'm not watching over her," Ness declared, turning narrowed eyes on Fox.
"Then don't," Nana hissed.
"Kids." The word was beginning to feel old on Fox's tongue, but there was little else he felt moved to say; he stood, stretching one ropy arm above his head, stuffing the phone back into his pocket. "Save the energy."
"For what?" Ness's eyes sparkled with challenge, and his mouth twitched, rebellious.
"Eh," said Fox, and seated himself again.
They were momentarily silent, the children glaring at one another, Fox staring limply in the direction of the television. The newsreporter still droned—Koopa uprisings in Mushroom Kingdom, a Goomba mayor assassinated, drought in the southern regions, drama in Old Hyrule. Fox's eyes began to glaze. From the corner of his eye, he watched Ness surrender to Nana's imperturbable glare, and turn away.
"You stay in one place when we're in the library then, okay?" He glanced at Nana, high, mighty, and only half-defeated.
"Ness. It's just a library." She smirked. "What… do you think I'll get kidnapped or something?"
"People get kidnapped in libraries," Ness replied, tone evasive.
She opened her mouth to retort, face warped with mockery, jeering. But for a moment, the news reporter cut through her silence, his voice a fresh, novel thing. "There has been no further updates on the hostage situation in Old Hyrule. A princess of the minor nobility—Princess Agitha—was reportedly abducted two weeks ago, and no trace has been found of her, though the Hylian Guard is out in full force, diligently searching. Her House received a note of ransom last Wednesay, demanding 200 orange rupees for her return…"
Nana paused, shut her mouth, smiled. It was a smile pale as the sky, many times warmer.
"You don't have to play mother bear," she said, at last.
"I'm not," Ness rejoined.
She shrugged. "I won't wander off, then. Happy? I'll sit in your philosophy class 'til the crafts workshop. 'Kay?"
The corner of Ness's mouth twitched. "All right then."
Nana's smile was dry, playful. She stuck out a hand. "Shake on it?"
"Why?"
"Because you need the warmth."
Ness frowned at her, suspicious, uncomprehending, but he reached out a hand at length and shook. Nana gripped his hand longer than necessary, but Ness did not fight her; he shrugged, as if the gesture was a justification, an excuse, an explanation.
"You are warm," he commented, wry.
"Told you." She grinned, grasped the seat of her chair with her free hand, and pulled it nearer to him. The screech of metal on linoluem was singularly horrible—Fox flinched, winced, and shook his ears to clear them of the sound, and the old lady by the door gasped.
"Here." Nana pressed a shoulder to Ness. "Be warm."
Ness muttered unintelligbly, glared toward the television. But a smile nudged at his lips, and he soon stopped shivering.
Fox smiled.
The news reporter droned.
A/N: Make of this what you will. I had nothing to do with the way this story ended. Nothing at all!