This one is for Groundis, and Whitefur, and Sanitarium, and all those who love my work.

Reflections on Blue

It's early morning now. Early morning on the wonderful tropical getaway Krys and me are vacationing on. The gentle sound of waves cresting on the nearby beach makes for a wonderful alarm clock. We're in a hammock together, and she's still asleep, held in my arms and snuggling close to me.

It's moments like these that remind me of how lucky I am. And I love her so, so much. I'll never let her go.

Actually? Quiet times like these also make me think about how I got here. How we got here. How this Magical Blue Space Vixen found her way into my life, and two separate lives became one life lived together…

When my father died, I was left with nothing by grief and a sense of purpose. Kill Andross. Save Lylat. Avenge my father and mother. It was these goals that lead me to drop everything and dedicate myself completely to Star Fox. To revive it, resupply it, and begin our wok of stopping that mad ape. Everything else besides piloting and my friendships suffered. I was already a shy kid, but I became more awkward, quiet, and slightly distant out of the cockpit. Slippy and Falco never said anything, as they felt a similar drive. Peppy worried about me, but avenging my father was just as much a goal for him, as it was for me. Everyone else—Fay, Fara, Miyu, and Fay's friends—worried about me.

Once the war ended, I was left adrift. My main drive, my purpose, was fulfilled, and I was left with a team with no jobs, little money, and my own loss over what to do next. I wanted to continue Star Fox—I loved flying and I loved helping people. I felt like my father gave me his blessing. But I didn't know what else I wanted in life besides Star Fox.

This was why I was so irritable during the Saurian Crisis. Frustration over lack of direction translated into over all irritability. Looking back, I feel horrible about how I acted. Sauria was a home to all those dinosaurs. I wanted to save it, sure, but I could have been nicer…

And amidst all of this, Krystal happened.

If I close my eyes and think about it, I can still see Krystal just as I saw her for the first time, in Krazoa Palace. Trapped in that giant crystal. She was stunning. Still is. It took the spirits telling me she was dying to knock me out of my daze from staring at her, and suddenly the mission felt urgent. The knowledge that not just the dinosaurs were in trouble, but that an innocent vixen was slowly having the life draining out of her while I was whining all the time filled me with purpose. I would straighten up, and not fail her or that planet.

Before I saved her, I dreamed about her a little. Odd images of her looking at me, examining me. Krystal would later tell me that her mind was subconsciously reaching out to me.

Anyway, one long adventure later, she was freed, and about to fall to her death if it weren't for a jumping save and a staff for a handhold.

People have asked me—my female friends in particular, because they are nosy—when it was that I fell for Krystal so strongly. It so fairy-tale, and it's true for the both of us, but I fell in love with her the moment her turquoise blue eyes looked at mine. I won't forget the first time I saw those eyes. Blue like tropical waters that you can fall into. At that moment, I wanted to know everything about her.

Once I sent Andross to hell a second time, she docked her ship at the Great Fox, and visited me personally to thank me, and watch me nearly explode in a fireball of blush thanks to ROB. But, once everyone left the two of us alone, I told her it was nothing, that I was glad to help. And, mustering up all the courage I could, I asked her where she as from. I was planning to mark that planet for a later visit.

Her face fell immediately.

I knew that look. I knew it thanks to many a long night starting into my bathroom mirror after my father died. The hollow-looking eyes and haunted-looking stare that I knew all too well. It's the look of someone when they think they are alone in the world.

When I saw that look, I knew I needed to do something. I couldn't forgive myself if I just let her go off on her own, with no home and no place to go. Not when I had the means to help her. So I told her we could take her in, and bring her back to Corneria where she could get her bearings, find supplies, and figure out what she wanted to do from there. Unspoken was my desire to help her heal. With other matters taken care of, she could grieve peacefully.

To this day I remember her expression. Her muzzle was agape, and then she smiled with tears in her eyes, giving me a warm look that made my heart jump. She hugged me tightly and whispered "thank you," and I couldn't help but hug back.

You could say that's where it all began, really.

That first journey back to Corneria is a fond memory of mine. We grew close first through talking. At first, it started as small talk, to help her acclimate to the new environment. Before long, small talk evolved into talking to each other in our rooms, about anything. What Corneria was like, what running Star Fox was like, all these subjects. I was especially grateful for her patience with me venting about the financial state of Star Fox at the time. Krystal became a confidant of mine, just like that.. At the same time, I was there for her questions, her concerns, and any other subject she needed someone to talk about to. One evening I remember clearly—she wanted me to tell her about the stars and what their names were. I gave her as much knowledge as I knew, but I could tell she enjoyed my company, simply enough. But what was most striking was how safe she felt to be around. For me, she's like a warm blanket. She feels the same way about me, too, though I'm called a teddy bear instead of a blanket.

Krystal had nightmares and couldn't sleep too well during those days too. One night she woke up screaming, sweating, and she lunged and held on to me as soon as I opened her door. In shock, I held her, while the two of us calmed down.

Then the floodgate opened. She told me everything. Andross was responsible. His forces invaded her planet after her people were deemed to threatening to his plans, and so he chose genocide. The very idea of it still makes my skin crawl. She lost everything. She started sobbing, and I cried with her. I cried for the senselessness of it all, how she had nothing left.

I told her about me. My parents, my own experience with that mad ape. Krystal just stared at me, before cupping my face tenderly and telling me how sorry she was. We were very much alike. Two people who lost so much to that man. Though the magnitude was different, the loss itself was similar.

I promised myself that I would do anything to help her.

We arrived on Corneria two days later. She was awed by the planet and it's scope, having never seen sky-scrapers or so many space craft and vehicles in one spot. Her sense of displacement was the reason Peppy and I agreed that Krystal staying on her own wouldn't be right. Krystal agreed, and promptly told me she wanted to stay with me.

If you think I blushed harder than ever at that, well…you are right. I was dumbstruck and bright red. What amazed me was she trusted me enough to stay with me. Even back then, she felt at home with me around.

As roommates, our status as confidants deepened, and we shared more subjects together. Our hopes and dreams, what we wanted to do in our lives. For Krystal, this was a difficult subject, and she said she needed to do plenty of thinking.

I remember those days in my apartment fondly. Oh, goodness, there were some funny moments. For example, the day Krystal discovered the awesome power of the household microwave! She stared at it for three minutes straight while it heated up some soup for her. I tease her about it all the time, which usually leads to Krystal talking about discovering washing and drying machines. She waited until ALL of her clothes were dirty, and took them to me while completely naked. One narrowly averted heart attacked later, I gave her some clothing and sent her back upstairs. She was still naked when she walked back up those steps, swishing her hips in such a way that wasn't accidental. Krystal was Krystal back then, and she hasn't stopped in the least.

I don't want her too.

A month later, Krys joined Star Fox, seeing the opportunity to do some good out there in the universe and "making sure I bug you boys endlessly," as she put it. She melded into the team well. Her previous experience with flight made her a quick study. Before long she was pulling her own weight, and affectionately referring to us as "her boys." Even Falco, his heart a black hole of swirling sarcasm, smart ass, and bad choices, can't help but crack a smile at her when she says that. Slippy and Peppy get the warm and fuzzies, and I get that and more. Her smile became bigger and bigger. And I was falling more hopelessly in love.

Sometimes I'm asked why it took us so long to move forward. We obviously liked each other. For me, it wasn't just shyness. Sure, I'm more bashful and awkward than the average fuzzball, but it was also just maneuvering in unfamiliar territory. My last relationship was with Miyu back in high school before Krystal, and that ended when my father died. I didn't know how to function outside of piloting and making sure I reduced Andross to the pathetic atoms he was made of. Miyu didn't hold it against me, but it didn't stop her and my other friends from worrying. My social life waned, and the product of that is me being a somewhat stoic, quiet, and melancholic man.

Meeting Krystal…it made me for the first time remember romance and the idea of life after Star Fox. It made me realize that settling down with someone was something I in fact wanted, deep down. I had no idea how to proceed, but I wanted it. And Krystal was patient, letting me figure it out all the while. She matched my pace, buoyed by her own desire to figure her life out. I made her wait a while. But she tells me that I was worth it. I don't see how, but…no, Krystal tells me I shouldn't think that way. If there is one thing I do that stresses her out, it's feeling down on myself. I try my best to not do that.

She helps me try.

Krystal used that time to be at peace with her loss. It was our steady friendship that helped her, and she wanted something more. Now, here we are. I'm happy with the destination of that journey.

Her telepathy gets brought up a lot, too, when I talk to people about her. Doesn't it scare me? At first it made me nervous. Why wouldn't it? Telepathy only existed in the adventure novels I read, I thought. Krystal's personality, above all else, was the proof I needed to not fear her powers at all. She's such a kind, gentle soul. She'd only use her powers to help people. For example, if I needed to open up about something, she'd use them to coax me gently into talking to her.

I enjoy the feeling of having her in my head. It's like silk running across my brain. A loved one getting into your mind that gently is comforting. Krystal knows who I am, inside and out. And she still loves me, because who I am is what she loves.

Now she's snuggling into my chest floof while we lay in the hammock.

I told Krystal I loved her following the Aperoid Invasion. She embraced me, cried tears of joy and kissed me. From that point on, we began to know each other more…intimately.

Our first time was right when we arrived on Corneria, following the defeat of the Aperoid Queen. I learned so many things that night. Krystal has a spot right under her left leg that will make her purr and moan more than anything, if I touch it just right. I learned that she's quite aggressive in bed, in a way that makes my toes curl. Though she's learned that I can be just as dominant—then she's a moaning mess on the bed.

Well, both of us end up like that, more often than not.

And oh my goodness, do we like to cuddle. Sometimes the cuddling is as good as the sex itself, as odd as that sounds. We can look out the window and watch the stars together, lost in how comfortable we feel.

There's other things I like to do. She loves breakfast in bed, watching movies together on a Friday night, and cooking together. I want to make her happy. That's all there is to it. And I doubt that I can make her as happy as she makes me, and when she senses that, she bats my ears and tells me, "of course you do, Foxy."

There was a day, some time after the Aperoid Invasion, which began a sequence of events that deepened our care and love for each other. It happened in an unlikely way, too.

During a routine mission against some pirates, Krystal took a hit. Left wing got damaged, sparked a bit in her cockpit. She came out with some burns and continued appreciation of the Arwing's durability. To anyone else, this was a light injury, a reminder to always be careful in combat, even if you are one of the best.

It was terrifying for me.

This was the first injury Krystal had, after we'd moved our relationship forward.

The idea of one of my friends dying in combat is always on my mind. It's a reminder to be the best everyday, to protect them with everything I've got. I learned to control that fear with a steel sense of focus. Panicking helps no one. Not the least of which people you want to keep safe. The idea of Krystal getting hit was always a possibility before, and it scared me. But now…

All while I visited her in the medbay, and all the while after she was well enough to leave it, my mind produced what-if scenarios. They came to me all the time. Especially at night. I stared at the ceiling of my quarters in bed, imagining Krystal burning to death in her cockpit and begging me to help her over the comms while I was powerless to do anything, until the sound stopped and was replaced with uncaring silence. Or a instance where her Arwing simply exploded in space, no trace left, her voice cutting off mid scream. What if I didn't have chance to do anything to stop that? What if I didn't get to say goodbye? All the while I thought of my mother, dying in a pointless terrorist attack while leaving to go grocery shopping, and my father dying in a Venom cell, alone with only the knowledge that his son will live on, to comfort him.

I never got to say goodbye.

I woke up a night, screaming at nightmares of attending Krystal's funeral. Krystal would run to my room, and hold me and comfort me as I was shaking mess of nerves and fears. I only told her that I was dreaming of worse case scenarios. She understood, but urged me to stop thinking about them. I was running myself ragged.

After a particularly bad night, I composed myself—which was not much—and decided that I had to take her off the team. Looking back, it was a feverish, sudden decision that I had no plan to follow up on. The only thing I could think of was getting her far away from combat. I didn't want to visit another gravestone at Corneria Cemetery and think to myself, what could I have done differently?

The moment she came in that night, she knew something was wrong. When I told her to leave to the team, she was upset and demanded to know what I was thinking. Then she paused, and looked me over, and her expression morphed into shock and concern. I probably looked horrible, standing there with dark circles under my eyes and shaking. Even my tone of voice had no authority in it, just this whispery desperation.

She took my hands in hers and cupped them to her heart—I remember how warm it was—and asked me what was wrong. She wanted me to tell her everything.

It all poured out of me. The fear, the desperation. I about threw my apartment key at her, telling her she could live there and I would support her in anything she wanted to do, if she could only stay away from danger. I would do anything. I must have sounded insane, for how much I was stammering.

Krystal told me later she almost gave in to my order. I just looked so afraid.

But she couldn't do that, she said.

The next thing I told her, she did not like. It was my desire to be the one to sacrifice myself to keep my friends safe. Too many people important to me died. I needed to be the one to die this time, so the person I loved could live. I would not let her die because of my carelessness. She needed to live! Her life was more important.

Krystal grabbed my shoulders and demanded how I could think so little of my life. Didn't I understand that she would be destroyed if I died? If she didn't have me in her life? If she was alone? What would she do?

An image of Krystal kneeling at a gravestone with my name on it came to me, and I recoiled from it.

No. It would destroy her. I began to realize I was living for two people now. To keep myself alive so we could be together. But I was so afraid. I held her close and told her so.

She told me to think of an instance where, if I were away from the team, where she was in mortal danger and I couldn't do anything to help. It would drive me mad. She told me to think about her, in that situation, of being unable to help me.

I remembered the words she said when I asked her why she wanted to join Star Fox.

I want to protect my new home. I want to protect Slippy, Falco, Peppy, and…

I want to protect you, Fox.

I couldn't ask her to leave. The two of us held each other and slept for the rest of that night. The nightmares didn't come.

It was a roundabout way to learn the extant of how much we cared for one another. Looking back, I wished I could have showed it differently. Krystal didn't mind. In the end, it still bothers me, but it was rewarding. It really is something to learn that someone you love would do anything to protect you. Krystal is that person for me; she'd follow me anywhere, as long as she made sure I was in bed safe and sound with her at the end of it all.

And here I am now, on this planet, still holding her in my arms. It's all real. This blue vixen loves me that much, and I never want to leave this hammock as we cuddle while the sun rises and lights up the water with golden glow. I'm happy. So, so happy.

"I am too, you silly Foxy."

I look down at her. She's giving me that sly grin of hers, and I stick my tongue out at her to tease. She licks my noise.

"You've been doing so much thinking," she says.

"I have," I say. "About a lot."