Well. What a ride this has been. Thoughtful's (first?) story now draws to a close. It's been great fun to play with her and watch her grow over the course of five years, and it's also been so encouraging to see all you readers put up with my terrible time management for that long! I want to thank each and every one of you!

OctoFiremanSamFan2016- Nope, this story was planned out faaaar before Lost Village ever came into production stages.

FreakingCrazy- And thank you so much for your dedication. Your encouragement and positivity towards my work these last five years has been so SO much appreciated!

Blossom 17- Well, here you get your answer! And thank you for your enthusiasm! Enjoy the next chapter!

ALERT- This story had been plotted out June 2012. Every similarity is coincidental, and I guarantee I copied off of no one. Everything with the exception of Gutsy is based off the cartoons.

And tonight, the completed status will rise to rule.

It's been an adventure, one I was glad to share with you. Now, Smurf y'all later!


Thoughtful wasted no time, leaping out of her bed. She snatched a quill and a sliver of parchment from her closet, frantically scribbling down the instructions her subconscious provided before they faded away. Pine forest. An oddly-shaped rock. The canyon. Did Papa Smurf have any idea about where these landmarks were? Had he known that her village was so close? That answers about her past were so close? Unwilling to take the time to ask, Thoughtful shoved the parchment under her hat and bolted from her mushroom as fast as her injured leg would let her. She barely registered the throbbing under her skin as she dashed through the village. Mist still hung in the air, the smell of Greedy's breakfast baking eerily absent from the ambiance, the surrounding forests quiet of birdsong and fauna activity. No one would be up at this hour to see her flee frantically into the underbrush, following a rapidly fading image from her mind.

A few minutes into her walk, Thoughtful realized how utterly ridiculous this entire ordeal was. Plunging through the forest in the wee hours of the morning, trailing a dream she barely remembered anymore, all in hopes of finding a place that might not even exist. Stupid? Yes. Not well thought out? Absolutely. But as she moved north, and the warm smell of earth became overpowered by the tang of pine, Thoughtful felt her muscles tighten with anticipation. There was something about this place...

Feet moving without consent of her mind, Thoughtful hung an abrupt right. Immediately, she wanted to laugh, and cry, and scream all at the same time. Something was happening in this place, something far more powerful than she knew. Everything was clicking, concepts matching up in the back of her brain, shrouded in a fog that she was unable to see through. Her mind, her body, knew something was right, or was supposed to happen, she just didn't know what!

A path too concealed to see. Unless you knew where it was.

The instructions became clearer. There was the rock, shaped like a Smurf hat. The tree stump as big as a human's cottage. And then, before her, stretched the wide expanse of the canyon.

While other landmarks were wholly unchanged, the canyon looked nothing like what Thoughtful remembered. The sides towered taller than ever, but over the years, the rushing river had been reduced to a glorified trickle, barely enough to wet the rocks. Thoughtful's eyes followed the water's path, deep melancholy clenching her heart. This river had been important. Right?

Her gaze flicked up to the cold stone walls, searching desperately for something she almost hoped wasn't there. How would her life change if it was? What possible kind of outcome could this excursion have on her comfortable life within the Smurf Village she now called home? Would it have any impact at all? Did her fantasy-village even exist?

Her eyes lighted on a ledge. A path. Leading up the rock to a hole.

It was there.

It was there.

Thoughtful sat down hard on the cliff. She slumped down, pulling her knees to her chest, and never once did her stare waver from that one hole. It was all real. Everything she ever wished to know in the months she lived at the Smurf Village was through that tiny opening. The unknown memories that plagued her every waking moment, her entire past, possibly her future as well? She'd wished time and again for this, to know herself, but faced with the opportunity...

Mind flooded with possibility, too focused on the issue standing before her than matters of the present, Thoughtful didn't hear the footsteps until another body plunked down beside her. She shrieked a little, snapping back to her own body. She only relaxed when Tracker's peals of laughter registered in her mind. "Tracker Smurf, scare me like that again and I will hide your walking stick, I promise you!"

Thoughtful glanced behind her to see Tracker's traveling companions, Brainy, Clumsy, and Handy, snickering a few paces back. They approached to join her on the cliff's edge. Thoughtful skipped over asking how they knew where she went, Tracker's presence answered that, so she spent the next few moments with them staring out at the ravine, lost in thought.

Finally, Handy broke the silence. "What are you doing out here, Thoughtful?"

She told them about her dream. She showed them the piece of parchment and the landmarks scrawled in messy black ink. She pointed out the very hole which housed her village. Presumably. The weight of her words settled onto the four Smurfs' shoulders like the heavy mist settled to the grass around them. Another beat of silence, to take it all in.

"Gosh, Thoughtful," breathed Clumsy, "you've waited a long time for this. Why aren't you going up there?"

An excellent question. "I'm not entirely sure, Clumsy. Everything I've ever wanted is just across this canyon, and yet... I don't know if I want to know. There's no telling what I'll find in that cave. What if it's not everything I expected it to be? What if I came so close to knowing but I go in there and find nothing? Or everything? What if my questions aren't answered? What if they are? What then?"

Brainy scoffed, and Thoughtful felt the tangible shift in the air as the other three males turned to give him looks of varying annoyance and disbelief. He didn't seem to notice. "Look, there's only one way you're ever going to find out. Quit over-thinking things, Thoughtful. At risk of sounding like a dolt, such as Hefty, just go and do it!"

The prepared retorts on the tongues of Tracker and Handy (especially about Hefty, if Thoughtful knew the inventor at all) died as the bespectacled Smurfette laughed and shook her head fondly. "Oh, Brainy. You always know what to say."

The intellect paused a moment, possibly to verify as to whether she was joking or not, and puffed up with pride once he concluded she wasn't. Taking his own advice, he stood, brushed off his pants, and offered her a hand. "Shall we, then?"

Smiling, she took it.

The five of them picked their way down the cliff face, relying mostly on Thoughtful's spotty memory of a path down and Tracker's sharp eyes. Crossing the trickle of a river was easier than expected, bar Clumsy's numerous close encounters with slippery rocks. As Thoughtful stared into the stream, her vision slid to sepia, and she was in the middle of the rushing water she'd seen in her dream. Something shiny flickered by the rocks covering the bottom, immediately followed by a long, flowing substance. Then, the vision was gone. She shook her head, following the Smurfs to the stone wall. As the only one who could pick the path out from the rest of the stone, Thoughtful led the climb upwards. Soon, the five of them stood at the entrance of the hole, staring into the dark abyss.

Thoughtful searched as far as her limited vision allowed her, hoping desperately that something would happen and that something wouldn't happen at the same time. She could feel the curious eyes of her friends, studying her hesitation. They gave her time, though they itched to move forward.

Thoughtful obliged.

The entrance to the hole began narrow, barely wide enough for two Smurfs to walk abreast, but widened after a few metres. The five of them stopped, gaping.

The tunnel yawned into a gigantic dome, a cave carved directly from the rock. Lining the walls were luminescent crystals, bathing the entire cavern in enough light to rival that of the sun. The cavern smelled old, musty, like nothing living had set foot here in ages. The most surprising part, however, was the scores of domed houses cut from the rock, scattered across the entirety of the cave. Smurf sized. A little smaller than the average mushroom. Some crumbling and cobwebby, but houses nonetheless.

The scene became lively in Thoughtful's mind's eye, blurred shapes travelling the gaps between the stone houses. Shapes the size of Smurfs. They milled about, venturing this way or that, or just leaning up against a structure to talk to their companion. Thoughtful's feet carried her closer, and her vision grew clearer. The crystals lit the faces of hundreds of Smurfettes; talking, laughing, going about life in this odd cave-village just like everyone did back home.

Home.

"This was my home," she breathed, reaching forward as if to touch one of the phantom Smurfettes. Her hand passed through her 'sister's' russet hair and the vision melted back to reality. Only then did Thoughtful feel warm tears staining her cheeks. "This was my home."

Silence from the Smurfs behind her as they took in the scene as well. Brainy smacked a fist into the palm of his other hand with a noise of realization. "Oh! That must mean Don Smurfo is a historical character instead of a fictional one! Imagine that!"

A smack, and a pained groan. Thoughtful didn't need to turn around to know who hit who. She could hear Handy's disbelieving hiss, "that's what you're worried about right now?!"

Clumsy wandered over to peek inside one of the huts, Thoughtful joining him. It was simple, small, with room enough for a bed and a table and such. But all furnishings had been worn away with time, leaving only a small layer of rubble on the ground. "Who lived here, Thoughtful?"

She was about to reply, how was she supposed to know that? But staring into the humble area, her mind suddenly became clear. To everything. It was a flood of emotion and memory and pent up thought, like her mind had been patiently waiting for her to break through some barrier and now finally, finally, it could allow her to see the remnants of her past. Festivals. Harsh winters. Celebrations. Mishaps. Misunderstandings. Debates. Smurfettes. Her family. Simply living.

She choked back a sob as the memory of a brunette with purple overalls slid comfortably into a gap in her mind, filling it neatly. "This... we were all numbers, right, we didn't have actual names. Number sixteen lived here. She was... she could be called the Farmer of our village. She was so good at coaxing plants out of bad soil..." A white smirk came to mind, accented by a golden sheaf of wheat constantly hanging out of a full-lipped mouth. Thumbs hooked in overall straps. Sweat on a hot day.

Clumsy grinned at her description, and moved to the next hut. "Who lived here?"

She laughed through her tears as the next resident appeared, clear as day. Blonde. Sweet. She wore pastels. "Eighty-five. She was your exact opposite, Clumsy, she moved like a ballerina." Bare feet. The twirl of a pleated skirt. A laugh like sunshine. "Maybe not entirely your opposite."

So the game continued, moving through the huts, Clumsy leading and Thoughtful leaning on the support of the other three Smurfs, torn between laughing and crying. Laughing because this was here! All here! And her memories... never had Thoughtful felt so whole, never had she believed she could feel whole again.

Yet here she was, celebrating her memories' return! And the subjects of her memories weren't around to share them with her.

Hence, the crying.

Clumsy pulled her to another hut. "Whose was this one?"

She balked for a moment, overwhelmed, before setting one palm against the smooth stone of the hut. She leaned her forehead against it. "This one was mine."

Clumsy breathed an exclamation, peering into the house before quickly moving on. He stopped at the adjacent hut, slightly bigger than the rest, with a section branching off like a fungus on a tree. "And this one?"

Thoughtful glanced to it. "That was number one's. Mama Smurf, I guess. She was... everything." White hair, like Papa. The graceful curve of a hand, sparking orange magic. A furrow between her eyebrows. The fond expression and headshake that would come with every one of her daughters' shenanigans. An aching desire, so so strong, to be held in her arms as she read stories, settling her village down for the night.

This sobered even Clumsy, who straightened and looked to the hut as if it was sacred. As if it were the Smurfette who had lived there, and not just a building. Thoughtful nearly staggered under the crushing sense of gratitude she felt for her four friends, for the whole Smurf Village. She'd be nowhere without them.

Tracker broke the silence, voice echoing oddly throughout the cavern. "So... what happened to everyone?"

Flash. Pain. Screaming. Thoughtful bent over in a rush of emotion so powerful she began to dry heave. Immediately, the others were at her sides, holding back her hair and rubbing her shoulders. She could barely hear their worried prompts through her mind's fog. Fear, acceptance, pain, so much pain!

She snapped upright with a gasp like she'd been held underwater. Ignoring her friends' queries, she glanced around frantically. There.

She moved past Number One's hut, pressing her hand against the very back wall of the dome. Cold stone now. But it hadn't always been that way. Flash, scream, more pain, and then suddenly everything stopped.

Thoughtful could hear the others holding their breath behind her, as if waiting for another episode. She wanted to comfort them, tell them she was alright. But she wasn't, and all she could do was slump against the back wall and sob. Vaguely, she registered her friends sitting next to her, wrapping her in their warmth, being as supportive as possible even though they didn't have any clue what was going on.

They sat like that for who knew how long. Then Thoughtful raised her flushed, tear-soaked face. "It was awful."


The epidemic had gotten worse. Number One had tried to keep the news under wraps so as to not spread panic and chaos, but it was too late. Too many of them were infected, blue skin deteriorating to a sickly shade of yellow, drying out like paper. The next symptom was the delirium, made worse by the blindness that struck a few days later. To hear her sisters calling out in a panic... it was all Forty-Two could do not to cover her ears. She wished desperately to help her helpless family, but they had all been quarantined. In fact, quarantine room was running out for all those infected. Mainly because those infected didn't get better.

She'd been lucky so far, kept away from the yellow Smurfettes and thusly healthy. She would have traded her spot for any one of them. They deserved it much more than she. Twelve, for example, would have been ideal for the coming struggle, strong in muscle and strategy more than Forty-Two's own strength of mind. When did strength of mind help against a foe such as theirs? Yet Twelve, one of the first to get infected, had been bedridden for over eight months.

Forty-Two leaped away from the door as One stormed out, growling to herself. In a rage, she threw her precious herb bag against the wall, barely missing the timid Ninety-Four, who yelped and scurried out of range. Forty-Two delicately set a hand on One's shoulder. "Is there nothing we can do?"

Her heart fell to her toes as One shook her head, face buried in her hands. "I've tried everything. They're just getting worse."

"You just need more time, you'll get it." Forty-Two comforted, though at this point even she was beginning to have doubts.

Huffing breaths, and a skid of gravel found Nine panting in front of them. Forty-Two realized with a start how pale she looked, how... yellow her skin had turned. Why was she still rushing about? Her eyes flicked to One, and she could tell by the grimness that One had noticed too.

All she said, though, was, "what news do you bring?"

Nine gasped one more time to get her breath back before straightening. Her eyes were dull. "Enemy is moving up the cliff at rapid speed, ma'am. No telling how much longer we can hold him off."

Fear gripped Forty-Two's heart. This was not good news. They couldn't withstand another attack, not in their weakened state. Surely One was preparing a spell of some kind to defend the village from this monster? She looked to One again, and all she saw was resignation.

Forty-Two's blood ran cold. She had to try. "One, surely there must be some way to fix everything?" The question sounded feeble even in her own ears.

One flashed her a glance, then addressed Nine. "Assemble Sixteen, Sixty-One, Four, Fifty-One, and Eighty-Six. Tell them to meet me behind my house now. Then gather up all the other able-bodied Smurfettes that you can and try to fend off that thing. Protect our ill as long as possible."

Nine saluted, then rushed off. Forty-Two watched her go. Would this be the last time they saw each other? One grabbed her by the arm, and Forty-Two found herself being dragged through the maze of buildings to the very same back wall One mentioned to Nine. "One, what are you~"

"Hush." The elder shifted nervously, one hand constantly reaching up to touch her hat.

Forty-Two watched for a moment. "One, I don't understand."

This finally drew a tired smile from the older Smurfette, some relieving semblance of the One she used to know. "Always seeking to understand. Sometimes things happen for reasons beyond our comprehension."

"But how does one truly know that something is beyond their comprehension if one does not seek to understand?"

One laughed heartily, and Forty-Two smiled at seeing her mother laugh again. She hadn't in too long. One shook her head fondly. "I'm going to miss you, Forty-Two."

Before she'd had a chance to ask a confused follow up, her five aforementioned sisters approached. "One! One, Nine said you called for us!"

"That I did." One turned to the wall without explanation, pulling a piece of parchment and a bit of chalk out from under her hat. Muttering a few words, she sketched four symbols onto the dome wall. From behind them all came screams of fear and pain. The six younger Smurfettes glanced at each other, over their shoulders, then back to One. She hadn't seemed to hear anything. Or was ignoring it, focused on the incantation. Upon finishing, she stood back and snapped the chalk in half. Immediately, the symbols began to glow, then twist, and reform into a whirling tornado extending back into the rock. Only then did she turn to look at her daughters. "Get in."

"One, what's happening?" Shouted Four. More screams from behind them, and Eighty-Six huddled into Four's side with a tiny whimper. Four put a protective arm around her.

One looked about to insist, then sighed. Tension dropped from her shoulders, eyes welling up in the most vulnerable display any of them had ever seen. In a trembling voice, One said, "I'm sending you six somewhere safe so our race won't die out."

This was met with choruses of "WHAT" and "Die out?". Forty-Two wrestled inwardly with her own questions, but waited for One to explain herself. Quickly. The screams grew closer.

One seemed to notice it too. "For whatever reason, you six seem to be the only ones who are immune to this yellow disease infecting the village. You've all had plenty of time to get infected, yet here you are, healthy as ever."

Forty-Two glanced around. Sure enough, her five sisters were bluer than she'd seen anyone recently. She held up her own hand to examine it, but her eyes focused on One. The colour difference.

Compared to the rest of them, One was sickly yellow. Less so than others infected, but yellow nonetheless.

Forty-Two choked on a sob, hand covering her mouth. One shot her a tight-lipped smile.

"I won't sugarcoat this, my daughters. The village is dying. We can't protect ourselves against our enemies, inside or out. So I must make sure that those who can survive do. So I'm sending the six of you somewhere safe."

Forty-Two and Eighty-Six sobbed openly now. Four nodded with the same grim determination that plagued One's face for so many weeks. Sixteen, Sixty-One, and Fifty-One looked as though they couldn't believe their ears.

"If we refuse to leave?" Fifty-One inquired in her cool alto.

"Not an option." One stated firmly. "You leave by your own will, or I make you leave."

"Seems like you're doing that already."

"Don't give me attitude, Fifty-One! Not on the last day I'll ever see you, or any of my little Smurfettes again!" One shouted. The rest recoiled. When One allowed her emotions to reign, the situation must be pretty bad. Even Fifty-One lowered her eyes, ashamed. One took a moment to calm herself. "Now I want you all to hurry into the portal. It will take you somewhere safe, I made sure of that." The screams behind them were now accompanied by the crunching sound of stone being crushed. Forty-Two risked a glance backwards. A scaly spine arched over the village in the epicentre of the panic.

One ushered Eighty-Six towards the portal. "Come now, my little Smurfettes, in you go."

Eighty-Six hugged One tightly, tears streaming down her face, before Four led her to the portal mouth. Four nodded curtly to One before stepping through the vortex.

Forty-Two uttered a sound between a laugh and a sob. That Four. Always driven by duty instead of emotion. Hundreds of arguments between them and their outlooks on life flashed before her eyes, so important back then but so insignificant in the face of her sister retreating into the portal. Probably never to be seen again. Forty-Two returned Eighty-Six's weak wave, remembering every time she would get out of bed in the night to see to the younger Smurfette's night terrors. The early mornings spent debating dreams and fear. And then her two sisters were gone, swallowed by the twister.

Sixteen straightened her spine, adjusted the wheat stalk in her mouth, and marched straight in. Just like how she lived life, without a second thought, without prolonging the inevitable. Sixty-One paused long enough to kiss One on the cheek before she was gone, wringing her hands all the way through. Fifty-One whispered a few words of her own to One before she too vanished.

Leaving only Forty-Two. She clasped One's hands in her own, tightly, knowing this was likely the last time she'd be able to. "Please, One, there has to be another way! Let me help!"

One laughed again, sadly. "Always so ready to help. Today, you can help me by following your sisters."

"But there must be more I can do here!"

"Forty-Two," she quieted at her mother's stern reprimand, gazing through wet eyes into her face. "There's nothing you can do. The Smurfette Colony is doomed today, but you aren't. The best thing you can do for me - for all of us - is to be safe."

The crashing was almost on top of them now, the cries of terror gone nearly silent. They had seconds. Forty-Two used them to pull her mother into a crushing hug. "I'm going to miss you."

A tight chuckle. "No you aren't." And then Forty-Two was at the mouth of the portal, watching One wave goodbye for the last time.

From behind the row of huts, the great scaly back rose and twisted, then a gigantic lizard crushed the structures under its wickedly clawed feet, the last line of defence gone in a swirl of rock dust. It opened its great maw, revealing rows upon rows of shiny, sharp teeth, and plunged down as Forty-Two fell backwards in attempt to get away from their old enemy.

The last thing she saw before the portal sucked her away was One, resolute and brave, disappearing down the lizard's gullet.


The Smurfs sat in stunned silence after her tale, trying to grasp what they had just heard.

"So the portal~" Started Handy.

"~The twister thing you first mentioned when you met me~" added Tracker.

"~Sent you into the future?"

"I guess so."

Another quiet moment.

"Thoughtful?"

"Yes, Clumsy?"

"Are you okay?"

The simple question opened the floodgates of Thoughtful's tear ducts once again. She buried her face in her hands. "No, Clumsy. No I'm not."

Brainy reached over, putting an arm around her shoulders in an uncharacteristic display of sympathy. "And likely you won't be. Not for a very long time. But maybe it's best to head home so you can process this. Take it slow, we can come back another day now that Tracker knows the way."

The bespectacled Smurfette sagged into his shoulder. "You're right. As usual."

"Don't tell him that, it'll get to his head."

Handy's attempt at humour hit its mark, and the five of them laughed. They wove their way back to the entrance. The closer they got the open air, the less burdened Thoughtful felt. It was as if the weight of the cave's past shed like a snakeskin, never to leave the place in which it originated. The memories of her past village still hung heavily in her mind, but with her friends by her side and the sky above her head, her other life faded to a dull ache in the back of her heart. No matter how bad things had been, things looked good now.


Of course Papa noticed their disappearance by the time the five of them returned to the present Smurf Village. The stern reprimand died on his tongue at Thoughtful's recount of their mini-adventure, merging quickly to a sympathetic word. Once she well and truly convinced him that yes, Papa Smurf, I'm fine, I just need to process this, he let her off her daily chores with a gentle reminder to come see him once she cleared her head so they could talk things through.

Twelve days passed before she took him up on his offer.

Another eight until she returned to the cave with Papa Smurf so he could see firsthand.

She hovered warily by the entrance as Papa examined every inch of the old village. Occasionally, he asked a question, but most of the time was spent muttering to himself. When he finally returned to her side, something crossed between befuddlement and frustration carved itself to his face. "The magic used to send you through time is extremely potent. I can still sense traces of it lingering at the back wall."

Thoughtful nodded. "One was a very powerful wizard."

They exited the cave and headed back towards their part of the forest, conversing quietly about what the cave had been like when natural Smurfettes lived there in peace. The memories flowed easily now, any mental locks broken by her presence in the back of the cave. A welcome relief, having her past again, but also a heavy weight.

"~And what of the others?"

Thoughtful allowed a sigh to slip out. "I don't know, Papa. Maybe they came out thousands of years ago. Maybe they haven't even yet."

While she hadn't meant for her weariness to come across as dismissal, Thoughtful 's shoulders dropped with eased tension when Papa took a beat, patted her on the shoulder, and said, "maybe you should spend some time alone, thinking."

A past time she'd been slipping into more and more recently. She grinned tiredly and nodded.

"I'll tell the other Smurfs not to disturb you."

"Not necessary, but thank you, Papa."

He flashed her a grin, encouragingly, and trotted ahead alone. Thoughtful turned left, starting down a different path. She ended up in front of her favourite thinking tree; a tall, smooth oak marking the border between old coniferous forest, and new deciduous. She scaled the trunk to her branch. If she looked to her left, she could just see the top of the ravine. To the right, storks circled far away, over the place where Smurf Village stood. The center of two worlds.

This old tree was appropriate for her.

As she settled back into the bark, pulling her flute from her hat and blowing a few trills, Thoughtful for the first time since she could remember found her mind inexplicably blank. Like thinking for days on end had simply... emptied her brain.

The emotion: the loss, the fragility, was there. The thought... just wasn't.

More scary than any giant Smurf-eating lizard could ever be.

Time passed quickly in the blank haze that was her inner-self. For once, though, Thoughtful found herself completely in the moment. Her lack of thought inspired a higher self-awareness where she could watch one half of her life out of one eye and another half out of the other, coaxing meaningless tunes from her pipes. Eerily soothing.

Without her thoughts to pull her away from the present, Thoughtful saw Brainy approach immediately. They locked eyes. Without words, Brainy began to haul himself up the oak.

A thought returned. Brainy was surprisingly graceful climbing a tree for not being an outdoorsmurf.

He pulled himself up next to her, both of them sitting in silence.

Another thought. They came in gentle waves now. Brainy being silent? Since when?

Occupied as she was with her own problems, Thoughtful's core nature prevailed. She leaned forward, trying to catch Brainy's eye. "Brainy? Are you smurfy?" Thoughts raced into her mind like incoming tide. Was he alright? Was it something she'd done? What had she done? Something she hadn't done? Was anything wrong at all?

He didn't look her in the eye, instead focusing intently on her right shoulder. "Thoughtful, are we friends?"

What? "Um, yes. Yes, we're friends."

His gaze flickered up for the tiniest instant. When his eyes met hers, he blushed deeply and quickly averted them again. "Would you say we're best friends?"

She tilted her head, trying to read him. Where was he going with this? For conversation's sake, would she consider Brainy her best friend? The term... didn't seem to suit him. It was close, but not quite. It was like there had to be something else, something more personal? Was there a term for that? Did she just not know it? "I... don't think 'best friend' is the right word."

He turned his face away from hers, but she didn't miss the slight crease in his eyebrows. "Oh. No reason."

Oh, no. He was not getting off easy, not with an obviously leading question like that. "Why do you ask?"

A beat passed. Face out of sight, Thoughtful reverted to watching Brainy's hands open and close reflexively as he wrestled with some sort of inner conundrum. Finally, he huffed out a sigh and spun to face her so abruptly that she nearly recoiled. He was so tense, his shoulders sat level with his ears, but he met her eyes now. They searched deeply, hopefully, trying to find something there. But what? Brainy took a breath to deep for his chest and began.

"Look, Thoughtful, you're a really smurfy girl and I'll admit when you first came I was suspicious of you, but of course who wouldn't be, I mean, we've had problems with girl Smurfs before and why shouldn't you be any different, right, no offense about that, by the way, but anyway I've been thinking about this for a long time and it's been hard for me because usually I can find the answer I need in a book or something and there are no books covering this and I just thought that~"

Only semi-unconsciously did Thoughtful tune him out, attempting to find meaning behind the prattle. Problem. Books unable to help. Talking about her a lot...

Flashes of her tree-top conversation with Tracker resurfaced, and Thoughtful's heart jerked like she'd been kicked in the chest.

Oh.

Well, this was to be expected. Shame on her for not being prepared for the inevitable. Blame it on the recent revelation sitting in a wall of a ravine. Even she was allowed an off day. And while she'd gotten to the root of the problem, Brainy still rattled on. He hadn't seemed to notice her momentary daze, thank goodness, no telling what kind of reaction that might have gotten.

She could think things out. She could be selfless and explain her point of view rationally and gently. She could make sure there were no misunderstandings or assumptions between them by carefully outlining her thoughts.

Or she could follow impulse and dart forward to kiss him on the cheek.

Brainy's mouth snapped shut at the contact of her lips on his face, winding to a disbelieved standstill. He stared at her like she was some kind of answer to all of life's questions; for likely one of the first times in his life, speechless.

Thoughtful laughed at that. Brainy, speechless. Her, forgoing thought and relying on action. What an odd pair they made. Grinning, she gently slipped her hand into Brainy's, interlocking their fingers. His gaze shifted between their hands and her eyes, existing in some sort of semi-lucid dream state. She shifted a little closer, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"Smurf it, Brainy."

END