Chapter 3.
Talk
About
A
Crash Landing
(This
Might
Lead To
Trouble . . .)

Me: Hey, everybody! Here I am again with another update! Albeit it's a short one which I AM sorry for but I felt like if I kept on going I NEVER would have gotten it done.

I DO have an actual conversation planning to happen between Brill and Wildwing that doesn't end up in another blow-out, but after I started really thinking about it, I didn't really feel like it was a good way to end the chapter. So I will be saving it for the next chapter which I promise will come sooner rather than later! To all those of you who actually take the time to read this, thanks a million, really!

Anyway, please enjoy and review plz!

March 27, 12:42 PM

"No."

"Really? Nothing? Nothing at all?"

"Yep."

"Agh, okay, uhm . . . . . OH! Okay, I got another one, Ahem . . . "There's only one god, ma'm, and I'm sure he doesn't dress like THAT."

"Uh, no."

"Dude, really?! C'mon!"

"What?"

"Wing, The Avengers! Most Recent, Robert Downey Jr., Chris Evans, Chris Hemsworth, Comic Movie Re-Boot, With Stan Lee as an expected and very brief cameo! None of this is ringing a bell?"

"Can't say it is, Dive. Not all ducklings are movie buffs such as you seem to be during downtime."

Nosedive rolled his eyes at his brother. "Man, you are some piece of work, you know that? You don't know E.T. from VHR, but you can all too easily tell the difference between Bernie the Bear and Care Bears?"

Wildwing rolled his eyes right back. "One pack of bears are colored coordinated like Skittles, shoot emotion-amplified rays from their stomachs of all places, and sing songs that somehow brainwash adults into humming along with them while the other such bear is simply a cartoon character is practically an everyday man in a hairy suit. I think that's easy enough to differentiate."

". . . . We're absolutely sure we're related, right?"

BONK!

"Ow!" Nosedive's hands slapped over the spot where a pair of pure-white knuckles "tapped" against the top of his head.

"That answer your question?"

"Geez, just knock me into another concussion, why don't ya?"

"Nah, that'd just give Mallory grief and an excuse to come after me for her weekly spars. I don't know about you, Baby Brother, but I like my head the way it is."

Nosedive's finger pushed up the end of his beak, halting Wildwing in mid-step and allowing him a cross-eyed view. "Heh, yeah, a big head to go with your big beak."

Wildwing moved his hand away with a frown. "Normal beaks always get this size!"

"Oh, for sure, if you got someone like Grandma Honks-A-Lot in your family."

"That'd make her your grandma too, you know, and leave Great Granny Hannah out of this!"

"Our old man had that same problem too, y'know. Ma loved using it as a coat hanger."

"Rub it in, why don't you?" Nosedive simply laughed at the putout expression on Wildwing's face, a much similar one their father would make. His older brother truly did inherit a lot from their dad. Including his incapability of appreciating a good joke. One of the reasons he fell so hard for Mom, Nosedive supposed.

The day was bright and sunny. The breeze was refreshingly cooled from the sudden lax of the heat wave they had experienced of late in Anaheim. Near all clouds in the sky, save the occasional wisp of white here and there, and leaving plenty of room for the people below on earth to fly with kites, planes or even the occasional paraglide.

The streets of the Anaheim Mall were pounded and paved by shoes and sandals, the wheels of either food cart vendors or baby carriages breaking the tides of feet, voices high and low rushing out and floating by along with the wind. It was the perfect day to unwind and relax, perhaps with a walk. Just as what Nosedive Flashblade and his brother, Wildwing, were doing now.

Normally around this time of day, the two of them, along with the rest of their team would be in the midst of their practice for the Stanley Cup. Unfortunately, it was the same day that Tanya had decided to reveal one of her latest inventions for the "Simple ease and comfort of Hockey Rink maintenance" as she put it. Claiming it'd be no better day to give a test run, she had revealed a remote controller and switched it on.

Mayhem had ensued quickly. Things were broken. Voices were raised. Comments of Drake Ducaine's mother were thrown about. Tanya had spluttered as bad as defective typewriter. And Mallory's gun was unloaded. To their dying day, Both Wildwing and Nosedive were sure, they would never forget the sight of the turbo-charged, tire-burning, high-flying zamboni crashing engine-first into the ice.

Once the frost settled, Phil, who had been peacefully coming up with a line-up of public appearances for the following week up until the ground-shaking sound of the crash, had immediately assumed the worst, - "IS SOMEONE TRYING TO KILL MY TEAM!? AGAIN?!" – And had rushed out and instantly came close to cardiac arrest at the bombed and shambled sight of the rink.

He didn't have heart failure, thankfully, but Grin still had to carry him when he fell hard on his back, pale as a sheet.

Tanya had a rough estimate that the damage would take a few months, one or two at minimum with the somewhat out-dated materials and tools that Earth had to offer. With that frustrated thought in mind, Wildwing postponed Hockey Practice until further notice. Which knowing Tanya and her rather eccentric ideas on repair and improvement was nothing short of questionable.

So with unexpected amounts of free time placed in their wings, the Mighty Ducks could either regulate crime-stopping/Saurian-Hunting, or take a load off for once and just enjoy themselves. Wildwing's plan had immediately fell upon the first, but with illegal activities being at low enough rates so that neither duck had to go out decked in Commando armor just in case, he had found himself being dragged by his brother to journey with him to the park. His oddly excited claims about seeing some of their simple, aimlessly quacking relatives dropping in for a visit from the south for a bath in the lake was of apparent excitement and not something to miss out on.

It was interesting seeing some more of their kind here, even if all they did was waddle on land groups and paddle like maniacs for the nearest crumbs of bread thrown their way. Nosedive had taken immediately with some of the little ducklings that were brave enough to get themselves acquainted with their bipedal, two-legged cousins, happily peeping around him and nestling themselves in his offered hands or in his hair.

Wildwing feared the situation would turn sour when, as predicted, some human with a clear object shoved up a place never mentioned in public decided to throw a loaded hot dog at them if not just to get a sick laugh out of it. He wasn't entirely wrong.

If there was ever one fundamental rule that anyone should follow regarding ducklings it was one. Never, never ever attempt to show hostility towards baby ducks. Especially with the protective mama birds in such close range.

The spectacle of a big, strong human being charged and attacked by a flock of paternal, mortally insulted and clearly peeved ducks with snapping beaks and angry honks was too tempting to stop. At least according to anyone who could still stand upright from laughing so hard. Even Wildwing could admit that it was almost worth losing practice over.

Almost.

Nosedive's beak stretched open in a yawn. "Man, I don't know about you but I could definitely go for a pretzel right now. Or maybe cotton candy. Maybe both."

Wildwing sighed to himself. Leave to his brother to get hungry just right after they ate lunch. "Get what you want, just keep in mind I will not be the taste tester this time."

Nosedive groaned. "Dude, that was one time, let it go!"

"Which left my tongue, or more accurately what now remains of it, burning like I swallowed one of Wraith's fireballs whole." Wildwing retorted.

"Triple-Spicy Tacos were a new thing for me then! No way was I gonna risk my taste buds going dormant."

"But you're totally fine with mine having fourth-degree burns for a two weeks?"

"Wasn't I the one that got you that jumbo-gulp of water when you needed it?"

"Sure, after five hours of waiting."

"For the last time, it was Captain Comic's "Buy One, Get Two Free!" annual summer sale, the line was around two blocks, the convenience store was packed, I came and went as fast as I could!"

"With thirteen new comic books and half a drink gone."

"Well, I had to do something while I waited!"

"Just don't try and cram the whole thing in my beak so you don't have to finish it. The last thing I need to explain to Phil is why I threw up diluted sugar and soggy salty mush in the middle of the street while its still daylight." Nosedive, spotting a food vendor by then, had already stepped away with a hand raised dismissively over his shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, gotcha bro – Hey man! You got any specials on caramel corn today? No? How about soft pretzels? . . ."

Wildwing sighed aloud this time. Knowing Nosedive and his never-ending obstinate sweet tooth, this could take a while.

"Oh sweet! You got candied fruit?!" A long while.

He spotted an empty bench, took a seat on one end and propped his leg up over his knee, getting comfortable, seeing as he clearly had no choice but to wait. Doing his best to tune out the sound of his brother's erratic munchies list grow longer and longer by the minute, Wildwing viewed the scenery. The nature overlaying this half of the park was lush and green, clearly well attended to by whatever gardener was in charge of this section, something that he was sure no Duck had ever seen back on Puckworld. The best of the grass beneath the customary heavy, cold snow that could be seen was just barely given time to breathe in the springtime before just as quickly being swallowed up by the gusts of the summer snow season.

Wildwing did miss Puckworld, his home, his old life, there was no denying that. But he had to admit, the sights of fresh, sweet-smelling flowers, far extending fields of golden wheat in the further outskirts of Anaheim, the endless blue/green waves of the wide open sea were beautiful to see and enjoy. When no multi-millionaire dollar human was trying to take it all away for a parking lot or sewage plant that is.

A pair of rather pretty women decked in the standard California attire of skimpy Bikini-tops and high-cut shorts skated lazily by him with roller blades and safety pads so small they were near decoration. He found his gaze drifting towards the tall blonde one, wondering if maybe the skates were off she could probably just reach up to his shoulders and probably need a dye job or two –

. . . Oh, puck, not again.

Wildwing facepalmed with an emphasized groan. Why did he keep torturing himself like this? Brill, or whatever she was called, was beginning to haunt his mind even worse than that stupid video game his brother talked him into playing. Whoever came up with the idea of childish pizza parlor animatronics comic to life and stalking you from the midnight hour had definitely needed to get a date or two in high school. He was still leery of that giant teddy bear stand in front of that build-a-bear place.

He hadn't seen her ever since their closely fatal collision in the comic shop. In spite of the randomness of it all, something just made Wildwing have to keep an eye out for under-five-foot short blondes with mosaics for a hairdo. When that failed he settled just for scanning for stacks of books walking on two legs, also to no avail. Why he was so hung up on this woman, for the life of him, Wildwing just could not figure out why.

At first, the odd allure of her made her think that perhaps she could've been a Drone or the Chameleon in disguise using some kind of charm like what Wraith had once used on Phil. That was quickly disregarded when he remembered that he had been wearing the Mask that day, the scanner hyper sensitive to the anatomical make-up of a Saurian. Plus, he sincerely doubted that Draguanus would be as desperate enough to enlist the aid of another human after his catastrophic dealings with Dr. Swindle just to throw him off like that. Her nonchalant distaste for him was a little infuriating but wasn't exactly "Evil Villain" worthy.

That meeting should be the first and last of it. Come on, the girl compared him to a mascot for insurance, for Drake's sake. She was gone. That was that, right? The chances of him ever seeing her in a state where blonde women grow on trees were a million to one. Or eight point five, six, six, four million according to Tanya's ridiculously accurate calculations. Not that he had really asked for them in the first place . . .

Wildwing rubbed at the feathers making up his mullet. He just didn't know what to make of it all. Was he just making up this obsession all because of the lack thereof anything else? Or was there a secret to that woman that needed this so-called mental investigation? Hell if he knew.

Canard was always a lot better with dealing with women then he was. If he were here, he'd be probably would have done something about it by now. He definitely had much more willpower than he did, one of many things that he really missed sometimes . . . .

He shook his head. No point wasting any more time on this debate. He made to get up. He had to make sure that Nosedive was trying to overload himself on anymore of those pixie-sticks aga–

Thud, thud, THUD!

"WOOF WOOF! ARF!"

Wildwing turned a second too late towards the thunder of sound –

WHUMPFH!

"ACK!"

BAM!

The blow came like a sack of cement blocks, sacking him square in the chest and onto the hard sidewalk so hard he felt the force jar his teeth. Trained reflex had him shoot a hand for his puck-blaster, comprehension chilling him when he felt nothing but the fabric of his belt. Hot, smelly breath blew into the feathers of his face in puffs, easily telling Wildwing of his fate as a future chunk of digesting bird meat in this monster's stomach. If he could just concentrate for a moment so he could activate his battle gear, he could get this thing off before it could –

SLURP!

. . . It could lick him?

Wildwing didn't even realize he had shut his eyes before he blinked and found himself locked in the big, droopy eye gaze of a dog. Wildwing blinked. Actually, Horse-dog would've been a more accurate term.

This dog was twice, maybe three times the size of most Earth-based dogs he had seen so far. His large body was laden with long, thick fur and built-perfect muscle, his pedigree made for scaling mountains and high hills with the amount of weight that had him pinned down flat on his back. His pelt was as monochromatic as possible with spots of brown acting as his eyebrows, framing his front and back legs and peeking ever so slightly on his chest. A thick collar adorned his throat, claiming him as someone's own beast to master, with a leash obviously loosened and trailing behind him like a wedding train. His happy, wide brown eyes were focused solely on him with a mouth hanging open, an equally large tongue bobbing up and down with each pant.

Wildwing simply stared back at the sight of this . . . This cart with legs standing over him. He wasn't sure if this guy had been trying to hunt him or not, but his throat was still pleasantly free of yellow-tinted canines so that had to be a good sign.

"Whoa!" Nosedive's surprised face appeared over his, his ocean blue eyes wide and beak just beginning to show signs of a five o'clock sugar shadow. "Wing, dude, you okay?!"

Wildwing craned his back as much as he could to look his brother in the eye. "You ask me that just after I get plowed to the ground and slobbered like a –" His eyes drifted lower. ". . . Jeez, Dive, did you try and buy the whole cart?"

Nosedive's arms were stocked heavily with paper bags filled with mall-related junk food, the occasional healthy bag of nuts or regular pretzels coming close to popping out from the lack of room, threatening to spill to the ground were it not for the hold of his arms. "Ha ha ha, funny, no. I would've gotten some twizzlers but they were all out."

"Since when do you like licorice?"

"I don't, but Mal does. I figured if I was going to get a chance at an early parole, I needed a little incentive."

"You honestly believe candy can entice a trained weapons and martial arts expert from Puckworld?"

"You've clearly never seen her around jolly ranchers."

"Rocco! Rocky, come here, boy!"

The dog "Rocco" chose not to move, seeing fit to only woof in response. Wildwing, however, started at the voice. It was still as high as he remembered from a few days ago, but was as firm with the dog as it had been sarcastic when its owner called him out on the most ridiculous of allegations.

A pair of small feet tromping comfortably in a pair of sleeveless, converse brand mid-thigh high sneakers quickly grew in his sight as they grew closer. "Rocky! Bad dog! We've been over this, it's not nice to tackle people in broad daylight –" Her voice halted in mid-lecture when he looked up as far as he could and met with wide, shocked, big, blue-green eyes.

There she stood. The odd, short, thick-skinned woman who had snapped at him, insulted him, his sport, everything the Ducks stood for, brushed him off like a gnat before disappearing from everywhere else but his thoughts. She looked even more bizarrely dressed as before, but it was her, looking every bit as stunned as he was.

"Brill" looked so caught off guard, she didn't even take time to notice the unusual sight of her Goliath-sized pet resting on top of him like the most natural thing in the world with a content ruff. He was sure if she was not so, she'd either be telling him to get off, or be laughing her head off.

Silence came oddly quick over them. For a beat of one, two, three, four, five, six minutes, neither one made to move. Not even for the few people who stopped at stared at the sight of one of Anaheim's most famous hockey stars being mistaken for a doggy bed.

Nosedive, who had been forgotten but munched silently on a length of taffy, looked at the girl, back at the dog, down at his brother and back at the girl again. Swallowing the last inch of the sweet treat with a gulp, his staring quickly grabbed her attention with a rewarded look of annoyance. "What?"

Nosedive didn't answer. He simply took one good, solid look at her and hummed in agreement with himself. ". . . Yep. You weren't kidding, bro, she is short."

The girl whirled her head back down to Wildwing, who abruptly snapped out of his daze at his brother's comment and looked at him with the most perturbed expression he had ever seen.

He sighed for one last time. Great second impression, Wildwing. Fantastic.

~X~

March 27, 12:42 PM

Somewhere else at the same time . . .

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BE-Click!

"Hello?"

. . .

"Yes, I'm here. What do you have for me?"

. . .

"Are you sure? Did you check it again?"

. . .

"Don't give me any lip. For what I'm paying you, if I expect you to roll over and play dead, you'll do it! Check it again! Check it all night if you have to!"

. . .

"I don't care what you have to do! I'm running on a time clock here! Do you know how important this is to me?!"

. . .

"You'll report to me the instant you find something! Is that clear? I have neither the time nor the patience for any more of your bullshit!"

. . .

"Good. I'm happy we understand each other. I expect good news for our next conversation the next time you call. Oh, and Max?"

. . .

"The next time you call me on the public line I will personally have you strung up and left as a plaything for the dogs, understand?"

. . . . . . . .

"Good. Goodbye."

Clack.

ME: Oooh, what is this?! Sounds like there be something more to this girl, Wing! Or could it be just a guy with a bad temper and nothing to do with the story? Coincidence or no? Hmm . . .

I know I've been slacking and I apologize, but I literally had to wait to get this chapter and, a lot of other chapters for other stories finished, because when I force myself to write, most of it comes out as crap. I mean, yes, I know I'm no James Patterson or Patricia Cornwell or anything to that extreme, but I do the best that I can when I can really get my heart into it and that's not something I can do if I'm making myself write page after page just to make a quota of updates. I know that sounds slacky but that's the truth and I'd rather slowly get this done then torture any readers with any rushed crap.

I do promise sooner updates just not months or days later but if you don't want to read it that's fine, if you DO that's even better, it's all up to you!