Genetics - for natural_blue_26
Title: Genetics
Fandom: Animorphs
Characters: Jordan, Rachel, Marco
Rating: PG
Summary: In a valley full of Hork-Bajir, Jordan is tired of being treated as a child.
Happy Birthday fic for natural_blue_26! I meant to write a fluffy sisterly fic about Rachel's birthday and then I forgot and wrote this instead. So happy birthday!
"I want to help." Jordan stands just on the edge of the firelight, her chin lifted just slightly. I notice this because Rachel tends to lean her head forward a little when she's being bullheaded, like she's about to charge.
Rachel's tone is that of an irritated older sister with a little sibling who wants to hang out with the cool kids, not that of a borderline psychopath. "Go away, Jordan."
"I mean it." She steps forward, fully bathed in the firelight, and I can't help but notice that she's not a kid anymore either. "I can help. Just tell me what to do."
"No." Though her position is still relaxed, lounging on the ground in prime position for maximum heat from the fire, Rachel's shoulders tense. "It's dangerous. Go back to Mom."
"I'm not some little kid!" Jordan struggles to keep her voice under control. "I'm fifteen; I'm older than you were when you started this shit. I know it's dangerous, but I'm not going to sit here and do nothing. Let me help."
Rachel looks to Jake for support -- it's nearly second nature by now, even for Xena: Warrior Princess -- but he just shrugs, like: Your sister, your problem.
Rachel climbs to her feet, towering above the rest of us in our lowly sitting positions. Jordan lifts her chin higher; they're nearly the same height.
"The only way you're going to help," Rachel says, very slowly, "is by making sure Sara doesn't get herself sliced up by a Hork-Bajir."
There's a long moment of silence, broken only by the crackling of the fire and the crinkling of Ax trying to eat the marshmallow bag. They're eye-to-eye, Berenson versus Berenson. I'm worried that if it goes on any longer they might put out the fire, which would be a shame, because my marshmallow is only half-cooked, and I'm about to interrupt with a remark that I'm sure would have been both witty and tension-breaking when Jordan suddenly steps forward and seizes her sister by the wrist.
"What--" Rachel begins, then stops, an all-too-familiar dreamy expression passing across her face. Jordan lets go, her own face set in determination, takes a step back, and begins to change.
She sprouts a few inches, her hair lightening ever-so-slightly and schlurping back into her skull. Her features shift almost imperceptibly -- her nose thinning, her forehead widening, her earlobes detaching. And lo and behold, she crosses her arms and lowers her head and there stands an exact mirror image of Rachel.
Cassie lets out a stifled gasp. Jake scowls, no doubt already planning a total revamp of the security around the morphing cube, and Ax pauses in his attempts to tear the plastic bag with his teeth. On the other side of him, Tobias -- in human morph -- shifts uncomfortably. I can only imagine what scandalous thoughts must be running through his mind, though I admit that I have a few of my own.
"I did it last night." By habit, Jordan-Rachel lifts her chin again. Except for the clothes, it's the only way I can tell them apart. "The Hork-Bajir let me through." She demorphs, sliding smoothly back into her own skin again, and Rachel stands there speechless. Jordan should get a medal for that.
"So," she says, tossing her hair over her shoulder and just for a second -- just there -- she looks exactly like her sister. "Are you going to let me help?"
Fandom: Animorphs
Characters: Jordan, Rachel, Marco
Rating: PG
Summary: In a valley full of Hork-Bajir, Jordan is tired of being treated as a child.
Happy Birthday fic for natural_blue_26! I meant to write a fluffy sisterly fic about Rachel's birthday and then I forgot and wrote this instead. So happy birthday!
"I want to help." Jordan stands just on the edge of the firelight, her chin lifted just slightly. I notice this because Rachel tends to lean her head forward a little when she's being bullheaded, like she's about to charge.
Rachel's tone is that of an irritated older sister with a little sibling who wants to hang out with the cool kids, not that of a borderline psychopath. "Go away, Jordan."
"I mean it." She steps forward, fully bathed in the firelight, and I can't help but notice that she's not a kid anymore either. "I can help. Just tell me what to do."
"No." Though her position is still relaxed, lounging on the ground in prime position for maximum heat from the fire, Rachel's shoulders tense. "It's dangerous. Go back to Mom."
"I'm not some little kid!" Jordan struggles to keep her voice under control. "I'm fifteen; I'm older than you were when you started this shit. I know it's dangerous, but I'm not going to sit here and do nothing. Let me help."
Rachel looks to Jake for support -- it's nearly second nature by now, even for Xena: Warrior Princess -- but he just shrugs, like: Your sister, your problem.
Rachel climbs to her feet, towering above the rest of us in our lowly sitting positions. Jordan lifts her chin higher; they're nearly the same height.
"The only way you're going to help," Rachel says, very slowly, "is by making sure Sara doesn't get herself sliced up by a Hork-Bajir."
There's a long moment of silence, broken only by the crackling of the fire and the crinkling of Ax trying to eat the marshmallow bag. They're eye-to-eye, Berenson versus Berenson. I'm worried that if it goes on any longer they might put out the fire, which would be a shame, because my marshmallow is only half-cooked, and I'm about to interrupt with a remark that I'm sure would have been both witty and tension-breaking when Jordan suddenly steps forward and seizes her sister by the wrist.
"What--" Rachel begins, then stops, an all-too-familiar dreamy expression passing across her face. Jordan lets go, her own face set in determination, takes a step back, and begins to change.
She sprouts a few inches, her hair lightening ever-so-slightly and schlurping back into her skull. Her features shift almost imperceptibly -- her nose thinning, her forehead widening, her earlobes detaching. And lo and behold, she crosses her arms and lowers her head and there stands an exact mirror image of Rachel.
Cassie lets out a stifled gasp. Jake scowls, no doubt already planning a total revamp of the security around the morphing cube, and Ax pauses in his attempts to tear the plastic bag with his teeth. On the other side of him, Tobias -- in human morph -- shifts uncomfortably. I can only imagine what scandalous thoughts must be running through his mind, though I admit that I have a few of my own.
"I did it last night." By habit, Jordan-Rachel lifts her chin again. Except for the clothes, it's the only way I can tell them apart. "The Hork-Bajir let me through." She demorphs, sliding smoothly back into her own skin again, and Rachel stands there speechless. Jordan should get a medal for that.
"So," she says, tossing her hair over her shoulder and just for a second -- just there -- she looks exactly like her sister. "Are you going to let me help?"