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Title: Break the Rules
Author: marcicat
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3300
Fandom: The Amazing Spiderman, Avengers
Series: Singing in the Light, Laughing in the Dark
Summary: Flash spends April break at Nikki and Calle’s house to escape his well-meaning friends, and meets a little boy and a dragon.
Will trade spare room for help with yard work. April break?
As texts went, it was surprisingly free of spelling errors, but Flash still winced when he read it. Someone — not JARVIS or Peter, which really only left Gwen — had let it slip that his plans for April break consisted solely of ‘stay out of the way and don’t get in trouble.’
(So he hadn’t exactly been planning to be at home. He was 18, it wasn’t like it was against the law or anything. But suddenly he was ‘at risk,’ and everyone wanted to offer up their version of help.)
He re-read the text. New Hampshire was probably far enough away that he’d avoid people dropping in to check on him, at least. And Nikki and Calle didn’t tend to pester. Sure, he texted back.
He called ahead for an all-clear before stepping through. Nikki was well-known at the Foundation for her ‘comprehensive’ approach to security. Calle met him at the top of the stairs.
“You’re not allergic to cats, are you?” she asked.
Flash shook his head. (He didn’t think so, anyway. Calle obviously thought he would know, and just as obviously wanted the answer to be no. Easy choice, really.) “You have a cat now?” he said. It felt pretty awkward to be standing around holding a duffel bag, talking about cats, but he could deal.
Calle shrugged. “More like she has us, most of the time.” Sure enough, there was a loud meow, and a cat raced up the stairs past them. “That’s Aurora,” Calle said. “Mostly we just call her Rex.”
Right. “Sounds good,” he said. He figured he might as well get all the awkward out of the way at once, so he added, “So, thanks for letting me crash here for the week. You really don’t have to —“
She cut him off, which was probably good, since he didn’t really have a good ending for that sentence. “We want to,” Calle said. “Plus, you can feed Rex for us this weekend; there’s a thing we’ve been invited to up in Northville.”
Calle led the way down the stairs, and he got his first look out the living room windows — at a yard still covered with snow. “I’m not really here to do yard work, am I?” He gestured at the window when Calle turned to look at him.
She shrugged again. “Not unless you want to? The back’s pretty clear. We do need a cat-sitter, though. This thing in Northville isn’t exactly secret — just private. Personal,” she added, after a second’s hesitation. “We were asked to keep it quiet. Which, if you’re here, we can respect their wishes and still have a backup plan, right? If we don’t show up by noon on Monday, you can sound the alarm.”
It was possibly more words than he’d ever heard Calle string together. She didn’t seem nervous, though, so maybe she was just naturally more chatty on her home turf. “Sure,” he said. “Absolutely. Noon on Monday, sound the alert. Feed the cat while you’re away.”
Calle studied him carefully — long enough for him to start counting to keep from fidgeting. Finally, she said, “Thank you,” and started back down the stairs. “Come on, I’ll show you where everything is.”
It was a short tour, starting with, “Guest room, you can leave your things here,” and ending up at, “Garage — spare keys for the car are next to the washing machine if you need them.” (He really, really hoped not to need them.)
“House security takes care of itself, mostly,” Calle said, leading the way back into the kitchen, and gesturing at the array of computers set up on the counter. “But it’s synched up with Marta and Aaron’s place, so if something triggers an alarm, they’ll show up to check on things. Fruit?”
Sure enough, there was a bowl of fruit on the counter along with all the tech. Calle moved it a few inches in his direction, pulled it back, took out a pear, and then pushed it more firmly towards him. “You should eat,” she said.
“Thanks,” he told her, eying the bowl warily. (Seriously, who actually put fruit in a fruit bowl for eating?) “I think I’m good for now.”
“Calle takes her caretaking very seriously,” said a voice from behind him. He jumped and spun around.
“Nikki’s back,” Calle told him, too late. He gave her an annoyed look, but she just smiled.
“Hey Flash,” Nikki said. She circled around and leaned over Calle’s shoulder to grab an apple. “Thanks for coming. This whole thing was kind of last minute, but we figured — we’d get trustworthy house-sitting and an extra pair of hands for the week, you’d get a place to stay. We promise no questions about your post-graduation plans.”
Well, that was an unexpected bonus. Even JARVIS had taken to sending him daily lists of internships and career counseling opportunities. So he said, “Thank you. Seriously, you’re doing me a favor here, I owe you.”
Both of them looked a little uncomfortable at his words, but the moment was interrupted by the cat slinking into the room and leaping onto the counter. Nikki sighed, but no one made any move to shoo the cat away.
Nikki said, “Sorry. We tried a no counters strategy for a while, but she has a terrible role model.” (Calle just shruged, and wiggled her fingers around for Rex to bat at.) “Now we mostly just let it go.”
“I don’t mind,” Flash said, because he didn’t. Besides, he figured any household that included a shapeshifter was bound to have a different perspective on animals on the furniture, pets or otherwise.
“We’re heading out this evening,” Nikki added. “But we’ll be available by phone all weekend if you have questions.”
Calle looked up from her staring contest with the cat. “Do you want to eat before we go? It’s sandwiches night.”
“I’ll eat later? I’ll just — go get settled in, for now.” He escaped to the guest room, where he got as far as unzipping his bag before dozing off on the bed.
He tarted awake when someone tapped on the door, and did his best to look alert and responsible when he joined Nikki and Calle in the living room. “Just wanted to let you know we’re leaving, and wish you a good weekend,” Nikki said.
Calle asked, “You’ve got this, right?”
Flash resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and ran a hand through his hair instead. “I’m house-sitting, not defending the Alamo. I have JARVIS and the Foundation on speed dial. I’ve got this.”
He wasn’t feeling nearly as confident when he woke up the next morning to the sound of something moving around upstairs. Way too big to be the cat. Not good.
If he’d been more awake, or possibly just more paranoid, he probably would have called for help before investigating. On the other hand — the house was supposed to defend itself, right?
He heard giggling and a loud “shhh,” and made it out of the guest room in time to see a little kid carefully navigating his way down the stairs. One hand on the wall, the other steady on the side of — Flash blinked, but no, it still looked like a dragon. Probably was a dragon.
The “shhh,” he was guessing, had been addressed to Rex, who was sitting at the base of the stairs with her ears back and tail twitching. He was pretty sure you weren’t supposed to let kids wander around on their own at that age, dragon or no dragon, but no responsible adults seemed to be forthcoming.
“Hi,” Flash said. The kid looked up. Flash waved. The kid sat down, patting the dragon. (The dragon did not sit down, and also didn’t look at him. Flash honestly wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or concerned.)
“I’m Flash,” he tried, not sure if the kid was old enough to be tempted into offering a name in return. Apparently not, since all he got was another wave. “Are you okay?”
The kid frowned, and stood up, starting down the stairs again. Flash reviewed the situation. School vacation, six in the morning, on a Saturday. House sitting. Dragon. Small child. On the plus side, the kid wasn’t crying, and the dragon wasn’t showing any indication that it planned to eat a) the kid; b) the cat, or c) Flash. On the minus side, the kid was mobile and non-verbal, at least for the moment, and Flash had no idea who he was or how he’d gotten into the house.
Also, his phone was in the other room.
The kid reached the bottom of the staircase and hesitated on the last step, looking around. Then he looked right at Flash, said, “Hungry,” and held out the hand that had been on the wall. Flash took it automatically, and the boy leapt off the stair to the ground, with the dragon right behind him. Possibly there was more giggling in there somewhere, it was hard to tell.
“Okay, food,” Flash said. “We can do that. Plenty of food to go around.”
It was easier, somehow, once they were moving together. Besides, unexpected guests were unexpected, sure, but it wasn’t like the situation was really even B-team level crazy. Feed the hungry kid, figure the rest out later. Pretty simple.
They made their way into the kitchen, where the kid climbed up one of the stools like it was nothing and looked at him expectantly. The dragon rested its head on the counter and did the same. “Allergies?” Flash asked.
The kid held out both hands, palms down. He had a red band on one wrist, but it wasn’t a medic alert bracelet, and it didn’t seem to have any writing on it. “Yeah, I don’t know what that means, buddy. Apples okay?” He looked back and forth from kid to dragon and got no answer, but they didn’t go anywhere either. Apples it was, then.
Flash resolutely didn’t wonder why Calle and Nikki had so many knives — instead, he lined up apple slices on a paper towel and slid them across the counter. (Honestly, he didn’t think you could sustain a dragon on apple slices, but it wasn’t like they’d come with an instruction manual. Watching the kid carefully sort the slices into two piles was pretty cute, though.)
He didn’t dare go for his phone with the kid still perched on the stool — what if he fell off and hit his head, or something? It turned out he’d worried for nothing. When the apple slices were gone, the kid twisted in his seat and threw his arms around the dragon’s head. It made Flash’s adrenaline spike, but the dragon just lowered the kid to the ground and stayed still while he got his feet under him.
“Wow,” Flash said, and he gave the dragon a thumbs-up when it looked over at him. “That was awesome.” He was a little worried the kid might head for the back door — any door, really — but he beelined for the living rom sofa and curled up at one end like he was settling in for a nap. The dragon tucked itself around him with a quiet huff.
Flash eyed them both. It was probably as good a chance as he was going to get. He edged towards the guest room and hoped he’d left his phone somewhere easy to spot.
(It was in his shoe, which he figured was easy enough. Best of all the battery was still kicking.) He took it back to the living room and skimmed through the alerts he’d missed overnight — global headlines, the school wishing everyone a safe vacation, the Foundation’s Earth Day committee report, and — yeah, definitely should have gone for the phone first thing. There was a missing child announcement from the Foundation’s emergency alert service, complete with photo. It didn’t mention the dragon, but other than that, it was looking a lot like he’d accidentally wound up with some ally’s kid.
Flash tapped the icon that would connect him with JARVIS. JARVIS, he was pretty sure, would know how to handle this. “JARVIS,” he said quietly. He angled the phone so JARVIS would be able to see the kid (and the dragon) through it’s camera. “Hey, so — good morning, and all that, and I totally did not kidnap this kid, but he’s here.”
JARVIS sounded utterly unsurprised. “Ah. I’ll notify the boy’s parents, then?”
“Yes, please. Can you tell them about the —“
“Dragon? Yes.”
He’d actually been going to say ‘the totally not a kidnapping part,’ but yeah, the dragon was probably more important.
“They are on their way. Apparently, the dragon is not unexpected.”
Huh. “Watchdog?” Flash asked.
“Brothers.” JARVIS’ normally dry tone got even drier. “So they say.”
Flash gave the pair on the sofa a closer inspection. “Shapeshifter?” he suggested.
“Nothing on file,” JARVIS replied.
“Some people like their privacy,” Flash told him.
“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” JARVIS said, and Flash laughed..
He heard a knock at the front door. That, he honestly had not been expecting. “JARVIS? Are the parents coming via the outside door?”
There was a pause. “It appears so.”
“Great.” He was still in his pajamas, which was probably not the best first impression. (Though maybe it lent credibility to the ‘I have no idea how they got here’ argument?) Plus, based on the photos JARVIS was forwarding, it was entirely possible the parents were also in their pajamas.
He opened the door. Yes, definitely pajamas all around. “Hi,” he said.
“Hello,” one of the men said, while the other one tried to look like he hadn’t been scanning the house with some kind of handheld device. “We’re Harry’s parents. I’m Harold, this is Al. Sorry for the trouble. The Foundation let us know he landed himself here?”
It seemed like an odd way of phrasing things, but Flash nodded. “He’s sleeping. Um. I’m really not sure how he got here, but —“
“It’s fine, really,” Harold assured him. “There’s pretty much no way of stopping him. Can we come in?”
Flash realized he’d been blocking the door, and moved to the side, waving them towards the living room. They all did an awkward sort of shuffle around each other until the kid — Harry, apparently — was in view. Still sleeping. He heard someone give a sigh of relief.
“He’s fine,” Flash felt the need to say. “He showed up and said he was hungry, so I gave them some apple slices and then they settled in there.” He was pretty sure the expressions he was seeing weren’t of the ‘oh, thank you so much’ variety. “They’re not allergic to apples, are they?”
“You got Harry to eat fruit?” Al asked. “That’s practically a minor miracle right now. But no, no allergies.”
“Maybe he’s not three right now,” Harold said, which made no sense at all.
Al produced his scanner again, but whatever he saw on the screen just made him shrug. He walked over to the sofa and nudged the dragon. “Hey,” he said quietly. “I’m just checking to see what age he’s at, okay? You good?”
There must have been some kind of positive response that Flash couldn’t hear, because the dragon shifted and Al pushed back one of the kid’s sleeves and waved the scanner at it. “Still three,” Al said.
Harold looked relieved. He must have seen how confused Flash was feeling, though, because he explained, “Harry’s not always very linear. Three years old lines up exactly, but he’s been eating nothing but pancakes for a week. I thought maybe he’d shifted. We like to be around when he does.”
Flash nodded, even though he didn’t actually have any idea what Harold was talking about. “Sure,” he said.
Harry picked that moment to wake up. First the dragon yawned, and stretched, completely covering the kid. Flash glanced at Harold, but he didn’t look nervous, so they were probably still at a base level of weird. When the dragon slouched off the sofa, Harry sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Sleepy,” he said.
“You didn’t want to sleep at home, huh?” Al said, crouching down next to the sofa.
Harry held out both hands, and Al picked him up. “Noisy,” Harry said, putting his head on Al’s shoulder.
“It’s been a little nuts at the house the last few days,” Harold said quietly. He was still standing next to Flash. “We keep trying to get the pirates and the ninjas to do battle somewhere else, but apparently there’s a four year contract. They’re gone now, though,” he added, apparently for Harry’s benefit.
Harry gave a thumbs up from his perch on Al’s hip. It was the hand that had the red wristband on it, and Al poked it with one finger. “At least you’ve got yours on,” he said. “You know it’s supposed to be a set, buddy.” Harry reached around and pulled a second band out of his pocket — half red, half white.
Harold laughed. “Sorry,” he said. “It’s just — they are together, I guess.”
“In your pocket isn’t exactly the same as on the wrist of a responsible supervising adult,” Al said, looking at Harry. Harry handed him the band with a solemn expression. Harold made a noise like he was trying not to laugh again.
There didn’t seem to be much else to say. Flash went to stick his hands in his pockets, realized he was still wearing pajamas, and ended up patting the dragon instead as it leaned on his legs. “So I guess you’re all set to go?” Flash asked.
They made it almost to the door before Harry squirmed in Al’s arms and Al set him down. He threw his arms around Flash’s legs and squeezed. “Oh, hey, thanks,” Flash managed to get out. He knelt down once Harry let go and held his hand out for a high five. “Good to meet you.”
“You too,” he added, looking at Harold and Al.
Harold shook his hand and Al waved. “You can’t get rid of us that easy,” Harold said. “Can we send you the welcome packet? We need to check in at the house, but I’m sure Harry’s going to end up back here as soon as it’s nap time again.”
Okay, that was — awesome, sure, but — “I don’t actually live here. I’m house sitting.”
“You intern at the Foundation, right?” Al asked. “We’ll work something out.” He looked at Harold, and added, “If you want, I mean. Is that okay?”
“Yes,” Harry said, hugging his knees again before transferring his grip back to the dragon.
Flash nodded. “Yeah. Of course.” (He was pretty sure Calle, at least, would love the dragon.) “So I’ll — see you later?”
It was Harold who scooped up Harry that time, and he said, “We’ll try to call first next time,” and then they were all waving, and Al did something to his watch and the four of them disappeared right off the front porch.
“Huh,” Flash said.
He closed the door. “JARVIS, did that really just happen?” he asked.
“Likelihood of recent events occurring in expected reality exceeds 99.999 percent.”
“So, yes,” Flash said. He really should call Nikki and Calle. (And do the background reading. And change out of his pajamas.)
“It does seem to be the case,” JARVIS replied.
He took a few seconds to let that sink in — the kid, the dragon, the parents. The instantaneous transporter tech. Looked like April break just got a lot more interesting.
Author: marcicat
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3300
Fandom: The Amazing Spiderman, Avengers
Series: Singing in the Light, Laughing in the Dark
Summary: Flash spends April break at Nikki and Calle’s house to escape his well-meaning friends, and meets a little boy and a dragon.
Will trade spare room for help with yard work. April break?
As texts went, it was surprisingly free of spelling errors, but Flash still winced when he read it. Someone — not JARVIS or Peter, which really only left Gwen — had let it slip that his plans for April break consisted solely of ‘stay out of the way and don’t get in trouble.’
(So he hadn’t exactly been planning to be at home. He was 18, it wasn’t like it was against the law or anything. But suddenly he was ‘at risk,’ and everyone wanted to offer up their version of help.)
He re-read the text. New Hampshire was probably far enough away that he’d avoid people dropping in to check on him, at least. And Nikki and Calle didn’t tend to pester. Sure, he texted back.
He called ahead for an all-clear before stepping through. Nikki was well-known at the Foundation for her ‘comprehensive’ approach to security. Calle met him at the top of the stairs.
“You’re not allergic to cats, are you?” she asked.
Flash shook his head. (He didn’t think so, anyway. Calle obviously thought he would know, and just as obviously wanted the answer to be no. Easy choice, really.) “You have a cat now?” he said. It felt pretty awkward to be standing around holding a duffel bag, talking about cats, but he could deal.
Calle shrugged. “More like she has us, most of the time.” Sure enough, there was a loud meow, and a cat raced up the stairs past them. “That’s Aurora,” Calle said. “Mostly we just call her Rex.”
Right. “Sounds good,” he said. He figured he might as well get all the awkward out of the way at once, so he added, “So, thanks for letting me crash here for the week. You really don’t have to —“
She cut him off, which was probably good, since he didn’t really have a good ending for that sentence. “We want to,” Calle said. “Plus, you can feed Rex for us this weekend; there’s a thing we’ve been invited to up in Northville.”
Calle led the way down the stairs, and he got his first look out the living room windows — at a yard still covered with snow. “I’m not really here to do yard work, am I?” He gestured at the window when Calle turned to look at him.
She shrugged again. “Not unless you want to? The back’s pretty clear. We do need a cat-sitter, though. This thing in Northville isn’t exactly secret — just private. Personal,” she added, after a second’s hesitation. “We were asked to keep it quiet. Which, if you’re here, we can respect their wishes and still have a backup plan, right? If we don’t show up by noon on Monday, you can sound the alarm.”
It was possibly more words than he’d ever heard Calle string together. She didn’t seem nervous, though, so maybe she was just naturally more chatty on her home turf. “Sure,” he said. “Absolutely. Noon on Monday, sound the alert. Feed the cat while you’re away.”
Calle studied him carefully — long enough for him to start counting to keep from fidgeting. Finally, she said, “Thank you,” and started back down the stairs. “Come on, I’ll show you where everything is.”
It was a short tour, starting with, “Guest room, you can leave your things here,” and ending up at, “Garage — spare keys for the car are next to the washing machine if you need them.” (He really, really hoped not to need them.)
“House security takes care of itself, mostly,” Calle said, leading the way back into the kitchen, and gesturing at the array of computers set up on the counter. “But it’s synched up with Marta and Aaron’s place, so if something triggers an alarm, they’ll show up to check on things. Fruit?”
Sure enough, there was a bowl of fruit on the counter along with all the tech. Calle moved it a few inches in his direction, pulled it back, took out a pear, and then pushed it more firmly towards him. “You should eat,” she said.
“Thanks,” he told her, eying the bowl warily. (Seriously, who actually put fruit in a fruit bowl for eating?) “I think I’m good for now.”
“Calle takes her caretaking very seriously,” said a voice from behind him. He jumped and spun around.
“Nikki’s back,” Calle told him, too late. He gave her an annoyed look, but she just smiled.
“Hey Flash,” Nikki said. She circled around and leaned over Calle’s shoulder to grab an apple. “Thanks for coming. This whole thing was kind of last minute, but we figured — we’d get trustworthy house-sitting and an extra pair of hands for the week, you’d get a place to stay. We promise no questions about your post-graduation plans.”
Well, that was an unexpected bonus. Even JARVIS had taken to sending him daily lists of internships and career counseling opportunities. So he said, “Thank you. Seriously, you’re doing me a favor here, I owe you.”
Both of them looked a little uncomfortable at his words, but the moment was interrupted by the cat slinking into the room and leaping onto the counter. Nikki sighed, but no one made any move to shoo the cat away.
Nikki said, “Sorry. We tried a no counters strategy for a while, but she has a terrible role model.” (Calle just shruged, and wiggled her fingers around for Rex to bat at.) “Now we mostly just let it go.”
“I don’t mind,” Flash said, because he didn’t. Besides, he figured any household that included a shapeshifter was bound to have a different perspective on animals on the furniture, pets or otherwise.
“We’re heading out this evening,” Nikki added. “But we’ll be available by phone all weekend if you have questions.”
Calle looked up from her staring contest with the cat. “Do you want to eat before we go? It’s sandwiches night.”
“I’ll eat later? I’ll just — go get settled in, for now.” He escaped to the guest room, where he got as far as unzipping his bag before dozing off on the bed.
He tarted awake when someone tapped on the door, and did his best to look alert and responsible when he joined Nikki and Calle in the living room. “Just wanted to let you know we’re leaving, and wish you a good weekend,” Nikki said.
Calle asked, “You’ve got this, right?”
Flash resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and ran a hand through his hair instead. “I’m house-sitting, not defending the Alamo. I have JARVIS and the Foundation on speed dial. I’ve got this.”
He wasn’t feeling nearly as confident when he woke up the next morning to the sound of something moving around upstairs. Way too big to be the cat. Not good.
If he’d been more awake, or possibly just more paranoid, he probably would have called for help before investigating. On the other hand — the house was supposed to defend itself, right?
He heard giggling and a loud “shhh,” and made it out of the guest room in time to see a little kid carefully navigating his way down the stairs. One hand on the wall, the other steady on the side of — Flash blinked, but no, it still looked like a dragon. Probably was a dragon.
The “shhh,” he was guessing, had been addressed to Rex, who was sitting at the base of the stairs with her ears back and tail twitching. He was pretty sure you weren’t supposed to let kids wander around on their own at that age, dragon or no dragon, but no responsible adults seemed to be forthcoming.
“Hi,” Flash said. The kid looked up. Flash waved. The kid sat down, patting the dragon. (The dragon did not sit down, and also didn’t look at him. Flash honestly wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or concerned.)
“I’m Flash,” he tried, not sure if the kid was old enough to be tempted into offering a name in return. Apparently not, since all he got was another wave. “Are you okay?”
The kid frowned, and stood up, starting down the stairs again. Flash reviewed the situation. School vacation, six in the morning, on a Saturday. House sitting. Dragon. Small child. On the plus side, the kid wasn’t crying, and the dragon wasn’t showing any indication that it planned to eat a) the kid; b) the cat, or c) Flash. On the minus side, the kid was mobile and non-verbal, at least for the moment, and Flash had no idea who he was or how he’d gotten into the house.
Also, his phone was in the other room.
The kid reached the bottom of the staircase and hesitated on the last step, looking around. Then he looked right at Flash, said, “Hungry,” and held out the hand that had been on the wall. Flash took it automatically, and the boy leapt off the stair to the ground, with the dragon right behind him. Possibly there was more giggling in there somewhere, it was hard to tell.
“Okay, food,” Flash said. “We can do that. Plenty of food to go around.”
It was easier, somehow, once they were moving together. Besides, unexpected guests were unexpected, sure, but it wasn’t like the situation was really even B-team level crazy. Feed the hungry kid, figure the rest out later. Pretty simple.
They made their way into the kitchen, where the kid climbed up one of the stools like it was nothing and looked at him expectantly. The dragon rested its head on the counter and did the same. “Allergies?” Flash asked.
The kid held out both hands, palms down. He had a red band on one wrist, but it wasn’t a medic alert bracelet, and it didn’t seem to have any writing on it. “Yeah, I don’t know what that means, buddy. Apples okay?” He looked back and forth from kid to dragon and got no answer, but they didn’t go anywhere either. Apples it was, then.
Flash resolutely didn’t wonder why Calle and Nikki had so many knives — instead, he lined up apple slices on a paper towel and slid them across the counter. (Honestly, he didn’t think you could sustain a dragon on apple slices, but it wasn’t like they’d come with an instruction manual. Watching the kid carefully sort the slices into two piles was pretty cute, though.)
He didn’t dare go for his phone with the kid still perched on the stool — what if he fell off and hit his head, or something? It turned out he’d worried for nothing. When the apple slices were gone, the kid twisted in his seat and threw his arms around the dragon’s head. It made Flash’s adrenaline spike, but the dragon just lowered the kid to the ground and stayed still while he got his feet under him.
“Wow,” Flash said, and he gave the dragon a thumbs-up when it looked over at him. “That was awesome.” He was a little worried the kid might head for the back door — any door, really — but he beelined for the living rom sofa and curled up at one end like he was settling in for a nap. The dragon tucked itself around him with a quiet huff.
Flash eyed them both. It was probably as good a chance as he was going to get. He edged towards the guest room and hoped he’d left his phone somewhere easy to spot.
(It was in his shoe, which he figured was easy enough. Best of all the battery was still kicking.) He took it back to the living room and skimmed through the alerts he’d missed overnight — global headlines, the school wishing everyone a safe vacation, the Foundation’s Earth Day committee report, and — yeah, definitely should have gone for the phone first thing. There was a missing child announcement from the Foundation’s emergency alert service, complete with photo. It didn’t mention the dragon, but other than that, it was looking a lot like he’d accidentally wound up with some ally’s kid.
Flash tapped the icon that would connect him with JARVIS. JARVIS, he was pretty sure, would know how to handle this. “JARVIS,” he said quietly. He angled the phone so JARVIS would be able to see the kid (and the dragon) through it’s camera. “Hey, so — good morning, and all that, and I totally did not kidnap this kid, but he’s here.”
JARVIS sounded utterly unsurprised. “Ah. I’ll notify the boy’s parents, then?”
“Yes, please. Can you tell them about the —“
“Dragon? Yes.”
He’d actually been going to say ‘the totally not a kidnapping part,’ but yeah, the dragon was probably more important.
“They are on their way. Apparently, the dragon is not unexpected.”
Huh. “Watchdog?” Flash asked.
“Brothers.” JARVIS’ normally dry tone got even drier. “So they say.”
Flash gave the pair on the sofa a closer inspection. “Shapeshifter?” he suggested.
“Nothing on file,” JARVIS replied.
“Some people like their privacy,” Flash told him.
“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” JARVIS said, and Flash laughed..
He heard a knock at the front door. That, he honestly had not been expecting. “JARVIS? Are the parents coming via the outside door?”
There was a pause. “It appears so.”
“Great.” He was still in his pajamas, which was probably not the best first impression. (Though maybe it lent credibility to the ‘I have no idea how they got here’ argument?) Plus, based on the photos JARVIS was forwarding, it was entirely possible the parents were also in their pajamas.
He opened the door. Yes, definitely pajamas all around. “Hi,” he said.
“Hello,” one of the men said, while the other one tried to look like he hadn’t been scanning the house with some kind of handheld device. “We’re Harry’s parents. I’m Harold, this is Al. Sorry for the trouble. The Foundation let us know he landed himself here?”
It seemed like an odd way of phrasing things, but Flash nodded. “He’s sleeping. Um. I’m really not sure how he got here, but —“
“It’s fine, really,” Harold assured him. “There’s pretty much no way of stopping him. Can we come in?”
Flash realized he’d been blocking the door, and moved to the side, waving them towards the living room. They all did an awkward sort of shuffle around each other until the kid — Harry, apparently — was in view. Still sleeping. He heard someone give a sigh of relief.
“He’s fine,” Flash felt the need to say. “He showed up and said he was hungry, so I gave them some apple slices and then they settled in there.” He was pretty sure the expressions he was seeing weren’t of the ‘oh, thank you so much’ variety. “They’re not allergic to apples, are they?”
“You got Harry to eat fruit?” Al asked. “That’s practically a minor miracle right now. But no, no allergies.”
“Maybe he’s not three right now,” Harold said, which made no sense at all.
Al produced his scanner again, but whatever he saw on the screen just made him shrug. He walked over to the sofa and nudged the dragon. “Hey,” he said quietly. “I’m just checking to see what age he’s at, okay? You good?”
There must have been some kind of positive response that Flash couldn’t hear, because the dragon shifted and Al pushed back one of the kid’s sleeves and waved the scanner at it. “Still three,” Al said.
Harold looked relieved. He must have seen how confused Flash was feeling, though, because he explained, “Harry’s not always very linear. Three years old lines up exactly, but he’s been eating nothing but pancakes for a week. I thought maybe he’d shifted. We like to be around when he does.”
Flash nodded, even though he didn’t actually have any idea what Harold was talking about. “Sure,” he said.
Harry picked that moment to wake up. First the dragon yawned, and stretched, completely covering the kid. Flash glanced at Harold, but he didn’t look nervous, so they were probably still at a base level of weird. When the dragon slouched off the sofa, Harry sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Sleepy,” he said.
“You didn’t want to sleep at home, huh?” Al said, crouching down next to the sofa.
Harry held out both hands, and Al picked him up. “Noisy,” Harry said, putting his head on Al’s shoulder.
“It’s been a little nuts at the house the last few days,” Harold said quietly. He was still standing next to Flash. “We keep trying to get the pirates and the ninjas to do battle somewhere else, but apparently there’s a four year contract. They’re gone now, though,” he added, apparently for Harry’s benefit.
Harry gave a thumbs up from his perch on Al’s hip. It was the hand that had the red wristband on it, and Al poked it with one finger. “At least you’ve got yours on,” he said. “You know it’s supposed to be a set, buddy.” Harry reached around and pulled a second band out of his pocket — half red, half white.
Harold laughed. “Sorry,” he said. “It’s just — they are together, I guess.”
“In your pocket isn’t exactly the same as on the wrist of a responsible supervising adult,” Al said, looking at Harry. Harry handed him the band with a solemn expression. Harold made a noise like he was trying not to laugh again.
There didn’t seem to be much else to say. Flash went to stick his hands in his pockets, realized he was still wearing pajamas, and ended up patting the dragon instead as it leaned on his legs. “So I guess you’re all set to go?” Flash asked.
They made it almost to the door before Harry squirmed in Al’s arms and Al set him down. He threw his arms around Flash’s legs and squeezed. “Oh, hey, thanks,” Flash managed to get out. He knelt down once Harry let go and held his hand out for a high five. “Good to meet you.”
“You too,” he added, looking at Harold and Al.
Harold shook his hand and Al waved. “You can’t get rid of us that easy,” Harold said. “Can we send you the welcome packet? We need to check in at the house, but I’m sure Harry’s going to end up back here as soon as it’s nap time again.”
Okay, that was — awesome, sure, but — “I don’t actually live here. I’m house sitting.”
“You intern at the Foundation, right?” Al asked. “We’ll work something out.” He looked at Harold, and added, “If you want, I mean. Is that okay?”
“Yes,” Harry said, hugging his knees again before transferring his grip back to the dragon.
Flash nodded. “Yeah. Of course.” (He was pretty sure Calle, at least, would love the dragon.) “So I’ll — see you later?”
It was Harold who scooped up Harry that time, and he said, “We’ll try to call first next time,” and then they were all waving, and Al did something to his watch and the four of them disappeared right off the front porch.
“Huh,” Flash said.
He closed the door. “JARVIS, did that really just happen?” he asked.
“Likelihood of recent events occurring in expected reality exceeds 99.999 percent.”
“So, yes,” Flash said. He really should call Nikki and Calle. (And do the background reading. And change out of his pajamas.)
“It does seem to be the case,” JARVIS replied.
He took a few seconds to let that sink in — the kid, the dragon, the parents. The instantaneous transporter tech. Looked like April break just got a lot more interesting.