He smirks and finishes whatever’s left of the two containers he’s emptied.
“So what’re your plans now that you’ve become an Avatar—is that how to say that? Do you have an official title or something?”
Darcy scrunches his nose up. “I was planning on fucking you, and then whatever happens after that is none of your business.”
“Sure. I’m not going to be around for your victorious return to whatever, but hey, we’re digesting now. Plus, I’ll have to go clean out the bum, ya know, before we get down and dirty, so I was just filling the time with something interesting.” I stop to think about it—maybe this hook up should be hand and mouth only so I don’t have to take off my pants again. “Maybe your life is boring, in which case, we can just swap blowies.”
Darcy huffs out a breath. “My life is never boring. I’m gonna find out what the fuck happened by tracking down Romily Butcher, because he knows what’s going on and why the universe forgot there was supposed to be an Avatar of Neutrality. Then I’m thinking I’ll throw every person responsible for imprisoning neutrality into a volcano. It probably won’t be one on Earth, because I like the idea of trapping them on a different planet. There’s plenty of unstable, volcanic rocks out there.”
“Maybe you can get the flinks to help you teleport,” I suggest.
The atmosphere feels like it thins out and pressurizes at the same time. My ears pop with the clap of thunder, and then the familiar weight of a baby flink settles on my shoulders and their little baby arms and legs wrap around my head.
“Oh, hello, baby,” I greet them.
9
“Oh fuck no,” Darcy growls, and fire ignites in his eyes again.
I think it might be a consequence of some emotional upheaval, in which case, “You should probably do some meditation or yoga to calm down and keep your chill.”
Darcy shoots me a dirty look. “I’m calm.”
“My dude, your eyes are literally on fire, so maybe check that before claiming emotional cool,” I suggest, reaching up and patting the little flink on my shoulders. “Hey baby, you really need to go home. I like you visiting, but you need parental permission first, and I don’t think you have it when you pop in here without them. I could have been doing anything, you know? You might’ve needed brain bleach.”
“Chirrup-chirp-chirrup-chi-chi-chi…” Those last syllables sound like laughter.
Darcy glares at the baby. “Go home. Remember what I said before?”
Pop-Boom!
And I’m on the space station again. The baby went home, but they took me with them. Being a favorite perch is a challenge, isn’t it?
Mom and pop flink spot me as they’re wringing their hands and searching through the space station. As soon as they see me, they spot their baby and rush over, chirping at me.
“Sorry, I don't speak your language,” I apologize, crouching down so they are close to eye level with their baby.
They don’t make any move to take the baby off me, but they do chirp at them in a rather pleading way. I understand not wanting to do anything to harm your kid, especially when having them is so hard, but this might interfere with my own life. I don’t know, maybe I’ll be able to go to class with a baby on me, but what about showers and hygiene and things like that? “Maybe I can wash my hair around them.”
The parents suddenly stop chirping, and they stare at me, agape with horror.
One of the onlookers gasps. “You can’t wash a baby flink! They’d drown!”
I didn’t know that, but I guess that means no showers as long as the baby's on me. On the plus side, I don’t have to take off my pants again until this situation is resolved. “No problem. I won’t bathe while they’re perching. But baby, you’re going to have to let me go for showers at least. I can’t go to class dirty, and classes start in a couple weeks. Also, you’re not going to be able to just take me on cool adventures, ya know? I’ve gotta finish my education.”
The alien I met before with the orange and striped skin skips to a halt beside me. “The human’s back! And no Darcy. Come on. While baby takes a nap, why don’t we have a drink? There’s some sweet coffee over at one of the shops down the way.”
The parent flinks both deliberately nod at me, turn on their… hands, and start leading the way to the shop. My new friend helps me to my feet, the baby starts snoring, and I follow them to the shop.
It’s a Starbucks.
I’m not even lying. I swear on my own grandmother’s heart, it’s a Starbucks.
I get a toffee nut frappe, and the four of us sit together in some comfy arm chairs.
“What are you studying?” the orange guy asks.
“I’m a business major. Thinking I want to be an entrepreneur when I grow up. Start a boutique that caters to things that would be helpful for people with disabilities to have. I do a lot of creating to help myself out, and I bet I could sell some of the stuff I’ve come up with.” The coffee’s just as Starbucksy as it is on Earth. That’s kind of comforting—no matter where in the galaxy you are, Starbucks tastes like Starbucks.
