Hey hey, it's a surprise project! I saw the prompts for Sonally Week 2024 (boundforfreedom on Tumblr) and wanted to participate this year. The overall theme is "Changes," and I decided to fill each prompt with a two-scene piece, one from before the relationship, one from during. The setting for all of these is the same, 99.99% SatAM with game elements tossed in if I feel it fits.

Prompt #1 was "Age."

1 - Age

"Sonic!"

Two blue ears perked up at the indignant voice, then flattened back down. Maybe she hadn't spotted him.

"Sonic Hedgehog!"

There was still hope. He burrowed deeper.

"Sonic Hedgehog, come out here now!"

Blue quills bristled at the tone, and their owner—one Sonic the Hedgehog, Fastest Thing Alive, age ten-and-a-half—sighed and extricated himself from the leaf pile where he'd been wrestling with a ball of scraggly fur and twigs one might charitably call "Tails," but was more appropriately "get-in-the-bath-right-now-young-man" at present.

Not that Sonic was, himself, in much better state. A good half of the leaf pile came up with him, stuck on his quills and rustling like a bush with every movement, and he picked at a few while Sally frowned at him and tapped one judgmental foot on the ground. She'd taken to wearing boots of late, like many of the actual Freedom Fighters, but hadn't yet settled on what to do with her long hair beyond demanding Rosie stop styling it like a princess.

Demanding. Sally had done a lot of that since the coup.

Demanding, at first, that the Freedom Fighters retake Mobotropolis. Demanding someone find her father. Demanding people listen to her because she was a princess. Then later, demanding updates on what the adults were doing. Demanding combat training once she'd turned ten and Cat couldn't use the "too young" excuse anymore. Demanding the others stop treating her like a princess instead of an equal.

Actually, Sonic could get behind that one.

Which was why he slouched and messed with his spines instead of snapping to attention like Antoine would've, or trying to placate Sally like many of the adults did. Her frown could've melted metal, but it didn't faze Sonic the Hedgehog.

Much.

"You were supposed to be at the practice field twenty minutes ago," Sally said in a clipped tone. It might have cowed Antoine or Rotor, but Sonic barely flinched.

"C'mon, Sal. Tails and I were just havin' fun."

The leaf pile nodded behind him.

Sally's frown held firm. "This is no time for play, Sonic." She shifted, planted her fists on her hips. "We're old enough to fight now, so we need to train."

Sonic snorted. "Cat's not gonna put us on the front lines." Not that that had stopped him from clandestine runs, and both he and Sally knew it.

"That doesn't matter," Sally insisted. "I told you to be at the field—"

Sonic blew a raspberry at the reminder.

"Ugh. Act your age, Sonic!"

He let out a bark of incredulous laughter. "I'm ten, Sal!"

"Old enough—"

" You're ten!"

"And we can still—"

"We're both just kids!"

Sally's cheeks puffed up in irritation at the interruptions, but while Sonic could practically see the reprimand forming behind her eyes, she held it back. That was part of being treated as Sonic's equal, after all. She couldn't exactly pull rank on him, and he was not above exploiting that.

And he could see his words sinking in a bit, too.

See her shoulders drop a bit, her fluffed-up fur flattening down again. He felt his own spines relax in response.

Maybe...maybe he wasn't the only one with a point.

After all, he'd been on at least three illicit excursions to Robotropolis just in the past week. Dangerous ones. Sally knew. She knew and she hadn't told Cat, but instead pushed for training.

The leaf pile rustled.

"We're still kids," he said, softer. "There's nothin' wrong with takin' a break now and again."

She pouted a bit, but didn't argue. Her eyes looked past him briefly to the leaf pile, then back at Sonic. "Be at the field in an hour, then?"

"Sure."

She nodded once, curt, and turned on her heel. Sonic watched her walk away.

Yeah, definitely not the only one with a point.

The leaf pile shifted slightly. Sonic turned and pounced in a flash, to the delighted squeals of a dirty little fox kit.

—

"C'mon, Sal, you've been at this for hours."

Sally, stiff in her chair at her desk, blinked at the tired burn in her eyes, and tried to shove Sonic's chin off of where he'd rested it quite heavily on her shoulder. He simply rolled with the movement and half draped himself across her instead. His weight pressed into her, smelling of leaves and loam and an undercurrent of sweat. Like the forest. Like nature. Like a hedgehog that could definitely use a bath, but if she dared to suggest it he'd use it as an excuse to lure her away from her work.

" Two hours, Sonic," she replied, trying to reorganize the papers and plans he'd jostled. "Just two."

"That's still plural," he retorted, and she caught his cheeky grin out of the corner of her eye. His weight leaned into her more. She tried not to laugh and ended up grunting a little as she adjusted.

"I need to fine-tune this strike plan," she insisted, and elbowed him in the ribs. Just a light jab. He flinched.

"You need to take a break." His arms slid around her, blocking a second jab.

"But if it isn't perfect—"

"We'll adjust. We always do." His voice rumbled against her shoulder, warm and soothing. " You'll adapt, 'cause you're good at that. Always have been."

She hummed noncommittally, not quite believing his flattery. It came too easy to him.

"C'mon," he cajoled. "Just a short one. Your boyfriend demands it."

She resisted a little longer. He rubbed his nose into her neck and huffed in a way that was both annoying and endearing.

She sighed. "Fine. Just a short one."

But as he leaned back to let her stand, a pang of guilt twinged. Had she considered all the angles? Accounted for every contingency? She halted halfway out of her chair to look over her work again.

Hands snaked around her waist in a flash, lightning-quick as with almost everything Sonic did. She squealed in protest, tried to slide out of his grip, but it was too late. He hauled her away from the desk with a strength belied by his runner's build and pulled her toward their shared hut's couch. She tried to plant a foot, to throw him off. He responded by tickling her.

"Ack!" She couldn't help it. He knew just where to prod to elicit the loudest laughs, and she was quickly rendered helpless as he collapsed to the cushions with his arms still firmly around her. She squirmed. He simply shifted his grip and renewed the attack.

Finally, when she was reduced to gasping giggles and half-hearted oaths at his impudence, he relented and let her catch her breath. She weakly smacked his shoulder. "Jerk," she teased.

"S'why you love me," he returned with that same cheeky grin.

Truth, but she wasn't about to admit it. She just stuck her tongue out. "Oh, act your age."

The grin grew wider, with a flash of fang. "Nope. Don't wanna. You can't make me."

Sally raised one brow, and smirked as realization dawned in his eyes...right before she struck at his ribs with a fierce tickle of her own.

She wasn't nearly so practiced as he, but it was gratifying regardless to have him at her mercy, if only just for a moment, before he caught her wrists and twisted her around to pin her back-to-front against his chest. They both laughed, and she had to admit—privately, never out loud—that she felt lighter than she had in days. Enough, even, to indulge in a longer stay on the couch, Sonic's head resting on her lap, his breath softly stirring the fur on her stomach as she ran her fingers carefully through his quills. The plans lay all but forgotten on her desk.

If those plans weren't perfect...

Well, as Sonic said, they'd adapt. They always did.

And there was nothing wrong with taking a much-needed break now and again.