Disclaimer: I don't own anything that doesn't belong to me.

Everything happened so quickly, it took a minute for Barbara Lake to get her bearings. One minute, they had been in the museum, surrounded by hostile Gumm-Gumms (which she'd been assured was a much more threatening name in the trollish tongue), and then Walt had held her close, and then they'd rushed towards the ceiling, and now they… They were…

"Walt!" Barbara cried in amazement, looking down to see her hometown of Arcadia Oaks spread out beneath the cloud cover underneath her. "We're flying!"

"Indeed we are," the Changeling known as Strickler said, the two wings on his back flapping mightily to keep both of them airborne.

"You can fly!"

"All my life, yes."

"Why didn't you tell me you could fly?!" Barbara demanded.

"It never came up," Strickler said with a shrug.

"I mean, is there anything else you're hiding from me?!" Barbara demanded, a little giddy.

"Indubitably, yes," Strickler admitted. "I am a Changeling, after all. We can deal with that later, though. We must away before they catch up with us. Don't worry, Barbara. You're safe with me."

And despite everything, Barbara believed him. Yes, he'd cast some freaky magics to bind their fates together, started a relationship with her under false pretenses, lied to her for months, and tried to kill her son on multiple occasions… And yet, in spite of all that, she trusted Strickler. Despite everything, she knew without a doubt that he would never let her fall.

As she gazed up at him, his face silhouetted against the moon, Barbara realized, for the first time, that he really wasn't all that monstrous and inhuman. For all his trollish features, his horns and fangs and stony skin, there was a strange nobility to his visage, like a statue of one of the Greek gods he had been able to exposit on so well during their time together come to life.

He glanced down at her, their eyes meeting. Slowly, without conscious thought, they started leaning towards each other…

And suddenly, when their lips were millimeters away from touching, Barbara's eyes shot open. "Walt," she whispered, voice thick with terror. "Are… Are we the protagonists of a cheesy supernatural romance?"

Strickler recoiled, a horrified and disgusted look on his face. "What?! No! Pale Lady in the Underworld, no! If anything, we are secondary characters in your son's Young Adult Coming of Age Heroic Fantasy Adventure!"

Barbara sighed in relief, pressing herself closer to the Changeling's chest, not even thinking for a moment about how comfortable she felt in his arms. "Oh, thank goodness.…" She stiffened, another horrible thought occurring to her. "Wait… Wait, does that mean I'm going to die?! Parents are always getting killed off or completely forgotten about in those!"

"I swear to you, I shall do my best to keep that from coming to pass," Strickler promised her. "If anything, it's Blinkous or myself who are in greater danger. We are the boy's mentors, after all."

Barbara gave him a concerned look. "Oh yeah, those kinds of characters usually don't make it to the end, do they?"

"It is an outcome I've long since come to accept as possible," Strickler said wearily.

"Oh, Walt," Barbara said empathetically, cupping his cheek in her hand. "We're not going to let that happen."

He smiled faintly at her, clearly not believing it.

And then another thought occurred to her. Strickler was tall, dark, and handsome, had lived for centuries, was only able to use his true power under the cover of darkness, could fly and often wore a cloak…

"Walt," she blurted out before she could stop herself. "Are you a vampire?"

Strickler gave her confused look. "What? No, Barbara, I'm a Changeling."

"Well, yes, but I mean, are like, vampires inspired by your kind, or…" Barbara questioned.

Strickler shook his head. "No, no, it's not like that. There's no such thing as vampires."

"Oh," Barbara said, not sure how she felt about that.

"We got rid of them ages ago. Didn't need the competition."

"Right… Wait, what-"

And that was when they were attacked by Stalklings, and they never got the chance to properly finish the conversation.