Author's Note: Yay, something amusing and not angsty! This makes us feel much better after writing Perish. Yay!
Disclaimer: We own Rebecca. And that makes us happy! :D But, not too much else.
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Quite the Collection
Larry and Jerry sat back, contemplating the starry sky above them. Glaw and Torkel had told them a most interesting story about how they'd come to find the man who was called Sushi, for now. Joe had lost interest part way through the story, and was busy poking at a particularly interesting bug nearby.
Larry tugged in another breath of his pipe and blew out the smoke, sighing. "Well, we've added another to the collection. What is with you boys and getting us all together?"
Torkel shrugged and Glaw ignored them all, as he usually did. There was a shuffling sound and a creak as the front door opened onto the porch. An incredibly old man shuffled out, leaning heavily on a cane, looking around a bit blearily.
Larry waved to the man. "Evening, George."
George nodded and made his way ponderously to his own rocker, slowly settling his old bones down. After a moment of shifting, he set his cane across his lap, smiling. "You know, I remember when little Becky was just thiiis tall! Seems like yesterday…"
Jerry shook his head at the hand height that George set. " George. She IS that tall. And it WAS just yesterday. She came here as a baby, remember?"
George blinked and quirked his head, before nodding. "Oh yes. Now I remember. Such a sweet little thing, she is. Brightens this old house. Too many grumpy old people here, you know."
Larry and Jerry shook their heads, not wanting to bother pointing out that George was even older than they were, and by quite a bit. He WAS in his 90s, after all. Joe, however, felt like being argumentative.
"Well, George, YOU are one of those 'grumpy old people'. You're, like, SUPER old!"
George started up, clearly offended. Waving his cane about, he snarled at Joe, irate. "How DARE you! Why, I am in the PRIME of my life! I could take on a whole Nazi bunker single handedly! Just watch me! Where's my gun?"
Larry glared at Joe, then turned back to George. "Now, George, there are no Nazi bunkers in South Dakota. You know that. And World War Two has been over and done with for years. There's no need for your gun."
George, mollified, settled down, still mumbling to himself. Larry, having diverted yet another argument, was tempted to give himself a pat on the back. Instead, he puffed on his pipe again, thinking back on little Rebecca. She really was a spot of sunshine to all of them. Made dealing with each other slightly more bearable.
Larry thought back on the story Glaw and Torkel had told them about her rescue.
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Glaw and Torkel crouched in the rafters, staring down at the group of heavily armed men. Glaw shifted, feeling incredibly bored. "Torkel, are you SURE these guys are worth hunting? They look kinda weak to me."
Torkel nodded, never taking his eyes off of the group below them. "They were on Ooman channels. They are highly wanted criminals of some sort. I think they'll be fun to hunt!"
Glaw sighed. "I would have preferred another battlefield."
Scowling, Torkel checked on his laser cannon. "You ALWAYS get to choose where we go! The last, like, eight planets! And a bunch here on this planet! It's MY turn!"
Glaw waved him off. "Fine, fine, let's just get this over with."
In the blink of an eye, both predators were in and among the warriors below, killing rather gleefully. Even with all their guns, the Oomans were soon taken care of, their bodies hanging from the rafters, some missing their skulls.
Glaw stopped cleaning the skull he was working on, freezing. Torkel also froze, watching his partner, wondering what Glaw had heard. Standing, Glaw crept towards a side door, releasing his wrist blades, ready to attack.
He kicked open the door with ease and stepped in, ready to take on more warriors, hoping to add to his trophy collection. He had not expected to end up in a room filled with children.
The tiny Oomans stared up at where they thought he was, considering he was still cloaked. A few of them began to cry, slightly older children trying to hush them. Glaw wasn't certain as to what was going on here, but he was pretty certain that he didn't like or approve of it.
He went back out to Torkel and showed the lankier warrior the room. Torkel quirked his head, horribly confused. "Well, I guess some of what the frequency said makes sense now."
Glaw chattered his mandibles irritably. "Well? What did it say?"
"It said something about young ones going missing. A slavery ring? Only of children. Ooman T'rafikin. That is what the frequency said."
Glaw looked at the tiny faces in front of him. "Well, now what do we do?"
Torkel contemplated the group before him, then smiled behind his helmet. "I have an idea!"
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A few weeks after finding all the Ooman children, Glaw and Torkel sat outside a rather dingy and sad looking building, both of them scowling fiercly.
"Why can't they get her to her mother?" Torkel growled, flexing his hands in frustration. They both watched as the tiny girl child toddled about, the other children and the adults watching ignoring her completely.
She walked slowly about, but some other kids running by knocked her over. The tiny thing sat up, lips trembling, sniffling, and tiny tears rolled down her face. But, she struggled to her feet again, muddy hands trying to wipe off the dirt and tears from her face.
Glaw had had enough. With a snarl, he leapt down, and carefully followed the little girl around the grassy area. If he thought a child or adult was getting to close, and might knock her over with their thoughtlessness, he pushed them over, to let the girl pass.
Soon, she had made her way to the edge of the fenced area and she slipped behind some bushes. Glaw followed and uncloaked, kneeling down to tap the little thing on her shoulder. She turned and looked up at him, lips trembling again.
Now uncertain as to what to do, Glaw reached out a hand and set it on her head. His hand easily engulfed her head, and he was at a bit of a loss as to how this made anyone feel better. He lifted his hand up and quirked his head, wondering if she was still making that face.
She seemed confused, so he put his hand back on her head again. A few more minutes passed, and he checked on her progress. Now, she seemed to have a tiny smile on her face. Glaw nodded, as this was an improvement.
She reached up and grabbed his hand, setting it on her head, giggling. He lifted it up, but she clasped her tiny, chubby arms around it, keeping it to her head, giggling more. Staring blankly at the child, he quirked his head again, wondering how he could get her to let go.
Torkel slipped up behind him, also uncloaking. The little girl looked up at him, smiled, then grabbed one of Torkel's hands. She held it, looked it over, then plopped it onto her head, laughing out loud. Torkel turned to Glaw, completely unused to this sort of reaction to his presence.
"Glaw?"
"What."
"Why is she putting my hand on her head?"
"I dunno. She feels like it."
"Well. What should we do with her?"
The two pondered on this, while the tiny Ooman child clambered onto them, locking her arms and legs around one of Glaw's legs. As he attempted to pry the ridiculously tiny thing from him, Torkel hit upon a brilliant idea.
"Glaw!"
"What."
"We should take her to the others! You know, those people we rescued!"
"I didn't do any rescuing! It was you! You and your need to help strays."
Torkel paused to give Glaw an incredulous look , the effect of which didn't come off well, due to his helmet. It was usually Glaw who insisted on helping people. Torkel just went along with it. Shrugging, Torkel carried on.
"Well, whatever. We can leave her with them! They've been saying they're lonely with only each other for company."
Glaw thought on this, holding the girl in his hands, as far away from him as he could. She laughed, patting at his hands and arms, trying to reach out to his face. Finally, Glaw nodded and cloaked, making sure the girl was hidden under his device. The Oomans might question a random child floating in the air.
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Larry sighed, watching the sun come up. He was always up early, and he enjoyed these minutes of peace before the others woke and rained chaos around him. Leaning back in his rocker, he wrapped his robe around him a bit tighter, shivering in the cool air. Winter would be here soon.
Squinting into the rising sun, he thought he saw something shimmering nearby. Then, Glaw and Torkel appeared before him. He was used to their entrances by now and simply waved at them. He was about to ask if they wanted any coffee, when he spotted a small bundle in one of Glaw's arms.
Larry quirked his head, curious. They often brought back strange things for him and the boys to marvel at. Glaw stepped forward, and handed the cloth wrapped lump to him. For a moment, Larry wondered what the aliens had brought him that was so heavy and warm.
Eyes widening, Larry pulled back the cloth. There, in his arms, was a tiny girl, couldn't be more than 3 years old, with red blond hair. She was sleeping soundly, tiny chest rising and falling slowly. Larry looked up, ready to ask all manner of questions, only to find both the warriors gone.
Sighing deeply, he carried her into the house, settling down on the hideously patterned couch to hold her until she woke. Hopefully she wouldn't be too upset. As the sun rose and the house awoke, he began thinking of a good cover story for the new addition to the family, and how he would have to clear out the extra room upstairs for her.
As George shuffled in, beginning to ask about the girl, all Larry could think of was "Will I have to paint her room pink?"
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Larry sighed, thinking back on that first day. Rebecca had been a bit distraught to find Glaw and Torkel gone, but she had settled in quickly, in the way that small children could. He ended up NOT painting her room pink, as none of the men would have anything close to the color pink in their house. They went with a pretty shade of light blue instead.
As they all stared into the darkness, Joe began to snicker. Larry raised an eyebrow at the most cracked of their group. Joe smiled, teeth shining in the night. "I still can't believe George told little Becky to call Torkel Grandma!"
The others smiled or laughed and George sniffed righteously. "Well, every child needs a Grandma AND a Grampa! And we're all men folk here! No Grandma in sight. And I thought Torkel fit the bill the best."
At that moment, Torkel wandered out of the house holding a plate of cookies and wearing an apron. He handed the plate of cookies to Jerry, then sat down next to Glaw, the two chatting away. George nodded sagely, pointing. "There, see? Everyone needs a grandma to make them cookies."
Larry sighed, munching on a slightly burnt chocolate chip cookie. "George. You do know that Rebecca and Joe made these this afternoon, right?"
George blinked, confused. "Well, Torkel was the one who brought them out!"
Jerry chimed in, pointing at Torkel's odd attire. "Doesn't that apron saw 'kiss the cook' on it?"
Joe shrugged. "That, or 'KILL the cook'. It's too dirty, which makes it hard to tell. We really need to do laundry more. That's the third day in a row that Becky has worn the same dress."
George, still nodding, replied calmly. "That's why we need grandmas around."
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End Author's Note: YAY! We love fluffy things. And we really needed it after that second chapter of Perish, and before the third one. This meets our needs!
So, someone has given us an idea for a character to have Glaw and Torkel face off against, as well as more flashback things like this to explain where all these people came from! So, look forward to it and enjoy!