FF->PP: Post 11: FIC: Stars, Marvelverse, genderflip AU, gen
MORE BABY GEEK.
*****
New Jersey, Montvale, the summer of 1953
August. It's hot as an oven.
The little girl's lying on her parent's lawn, tired. She'd been running around after school, she does that, even if she was wearing a pretty dress. She's sweating, blonde curls sticking to her cheeks. She's going to turn pink and get yelled at, but she likes the sun. The grass against her back. Lies sprawled with her arms wide.
Squeaks as something tickles her hand.
She looks over, and there's an ant on her finger.
She almost shakes it off, but then stops, because its waving the little things on its head. It looks confused. She just watches it on the tip of her finger, perched up on its little feet. It turns in place, heads down her finger, across her hand. Back the other way.
"You're dancing," she says, and keeps watching. It comes back across, and then another one follows it. Little feet trooping over her hand. She giggles. And then another one.
She isn't thinking of dancing now. She's thinking of children marching across the schoolyard. Hand in hand. Follow me.
"Henrietta!"
They're walking with their heads down, the little things on their heads waving just a little. Like a doggie smelling its way along. Another and another and another.
"Henrietta, it's dinnertime, would you please come inside?"
Sweat drops into her eyes, and she blinks, and cries a little, but the ants are still coming. Steady across her hand. One of them wanders up her thumb, mills, and she's worried it's going to get lost. But it gets back to the line.
"Oh, good lord, Henrietta, what are you doing?"
She jumps. They scatter, and she feels a little sorry for them, and then one of them bites and she yells.
"Henrietta, get up, come in for dinner." Her mother's hands tugging her curls back into place. "You're covered with grass, Henrietta, you should know better. You're seven, you're a big girl, that was such a nice dress..."
She just holds out her hand. There's an angry red dot. "It bit me."
"Henrietta Pym! What do you expect to happen if you go running about in the dirt? Come in and wash your hands. Now!"
*****
This post is part of the Fanfiction Frenzy for Planned Parenthood, which is wired_lizard's outing for Day of Blogs, and has raised $235 so far. Like what you see? Please consider donating!
*****
New Jersey, Montvale, the summer of 1953
August. It's hot as an oven.
The little girl's lying on her parent's lawn, tired. She'd been running around after school, she does that, even if she was wearing a pretty dress. She's sweating, blonde curls sticking to her cheeks. She's going to turn pink and get yelled at, but she likes the sun. The grass against her back. Lies sprawled with her arms wide.
Squeaks as something tickles her hand.
She looks over, and there's an ant on her finger.
She almost shakes it off, but then stops, because its waving the little things on its head. It looks confused. She just watches it on the tip of her finger, perched up on its little feet. It turns in place, heads down her finger, across her hand. Back the other way.
"You're dancing," she says, and keeps watching. It comes back across, and then another one follows it. Little feet trooping over her hand. She giggles. And then another one.
She isn't thinking of dancing now. She's thinking of children marching across the schoolyard. Hand in hand. Follow me.
"Henrietta!"
They're walking with their heads down, the little things on their heads waving just a little. Like a doggie smelling its way along. Another and another and another.
"Henrietta, it's dinnertime, would you please come inside?"
Sweat drops into her eyes, and she blinks, and cries a little, but the ants are still coming. Steady across her hand. One of them wanders up her thumb, mills, and she's worried it's going to get lost. But it gets back to the line.
"Oh, good lord, Henrietta, what are you doing?"
She jumps. They scatter, and she feels a little sorry for them, and then one of them bites and she yells.
"Henrietta, get up, come in for dinner." Her mother's hands tugging her curls back into place. "You're covered with grass, Henrietta, you should know better. You're seven, you're a big girl, that was such a nice dress..."
She just holds out her hand. There's an angry red dot. "It bit me."
"Henrietta Pym! What do you expect to happen if you go running about in the dirt? Come in and wash your hands. Now!"
*****
This post is part of the Fanfiction Frenzy for Planned Parenthood, which is wired_lizard's outing for Day of Blogs, and has raised $235 so far. Like what you see? Please consider donating!