Pushover

By Vertigo Selkate

Disclaimer: Jem® & the Holograms™, The Misfits™, and The Stingers™ are owned by Hasbro® © 1923-2008. All rights reserved. This unauthorized non profit non commercial work is not an authoritative view of the characters herein. The thoughts and opinions found in this work are not necessarily those of Hasbro®, FanFiction(dot)Net™ or that of their mother's. This work has no intention of diluting, devaluing, exploiting, or depriving the money making of Hasbro®'s trademarks, copyrights, and/or other properties. Any resemblance to anyone alive or dead is purely coincidental, unless of course the author states otherwise. This work was created by Vertigo Selkateπ © 2008. Mmm pie. All rights reserved. The author kindly requests potential archivists ask permission before rehosting or reposting this work. All attempts at humor within this disclaimer are nonexistent and are actually caused by the small computer chip in your brain malfunctioning. You should get that checked.

Phyllis shifted uncomfortably in front of door of the art exhibit. She peaked into the doorway to see a tall woman in a long flowing scarf chivying around the more casually dressed employees. Phyllis heard the lace on her pink dress make a rustling sound as she walked up to her and tugged her dress.

"Mommy, I'm bored."

She glared down at the little girl impatiently, "Phyllis, not now sweety. No! I told you to move that painting over there you dolt! Don't you listen to anything I say?"

"Mommy!" She began to stomp her feet.

"And what does my baby girl want?" She batted her eyelashes at the little girl.

"You promised you'd play with me."

The woman sighed and looked at the workmen handling the paintings, "Once mommy is done with helping the nice men put up her paintings the right way. When she's done, she'll be more than happy to play with you."

Phyllis frowned, "You promised!"

One of the workers flinched and looked at the clock, "Uh, Mrs. Gabor, your daughter has been waiting out there for over a half hour. Maybe we should take a little break."

She flicked her long scarf, stomped her foot, and groaned, "Fine, it wouldn't take so long if any of you knew how to do your job! Come on, Phyllis. Let's go outside and play. Not for very long though."

"Yay!" The little girl grabbed her mother's hand and pulled her out the door.

The sun shined so brightly that Phyllis had to shield her eyes with her hand. Even before her eyes fully adjusted, she began to skip around her mother giggling happily. The woman chuckled slightly and patted her on the head, as she came to a stop, "What do you want to play?"

"I don't know." She stopped to look at her mother only to hear her sigh and began thinking as quickly as possible, "Um…racing would be fun. Daddy races with me sometimes when he's home."

The woman's face lit up with a grin and looked around the large green lawn, "That does sound like fun. The finish line will be those trees over there. On your mark…get ready…go!"

Phyllis jumped slightly at the sound of "go" and began to run as fast as she could in her dress shoes. Her mother smirked and laughed slightly as she flipped her scarf, and took off her high heals. She began running; all the while her scarf flew behind her as she held her shoes, laughing all the way. When her daughter noticed her pass, the young girl tried to run faster, but it did no good. She passed the finish line huffing, as her mother giggled.

"I win! I win!" Her mother twirled around once and grinned.

Phyllis stomped her foot as she huffed, "It's…not fair! You took…took off your shoes. I can't run well in these shoes. And you're bigger; it takes me twice as many steps to get to the finish line. You're suppose to go easy on me!"

"Don't be a sore loser, Phyllis." She responded coldly.

"But, but, Daddy always lets me win!" Her voice cracked slightly and her eyes became glassy.

The woman smirked and chuckled slightly as she kneeled down to the child and patted her head, "Phyllis, sweety, I'm going to let you in on a little secret…daddy's a pushover."

The little girl stared at her mother confused so she continued, "He'll give you anything you want if you know how to ask. He's making you weak by letting you win. You don't want to be weak do you? Don't you want to be strong like mommy?"

"Of course!"

"That's right, baby. Losing makes you strong." Her voice became quieter with each word until becoming a whisper as she stared off into space.

Phyllis looked at her mother sadly and ran into her with a hug, "I love you mommy."

Her mother cringed slightly in response and tried to pry the girl off of her torso until she heard, "I want to be just like you when I grow up."

She felt her lips curl up in a grin, hugging the girl with one arm while her other hand began to run through her hair. Most of Phyllis's hair was light brown like her mothers except for brassy blonde tips, which showed her hair color of just two years ago. She stooped her head down to kiss her daughter's forehead and whispered, "Of course you do, baby. Of course you do."