Title: Metamorphosis
Pairing: Maybe Blues, and if that, one-sided
Rating: G/K
Disclaimer: Craig gets all the money. I'm just here for the LOVE.
Summary: Boomer doesn't know if he's ready for this.
Notes: Super late 2010 birthday fic for Juxtaposie. Let's hope I did your greatness justice. Beta'd by mathkid, because special people deserve special treatment.


The seasons have already shifted when he sees her. Where the summer days drenched Boomer in sweat and short-lived sunburns, autumn breezes in, cooling his skin and painting the leaves all shades of red, yellow, and every color in between.

Autumn's presence makes itself known so gradually that he barely takes notice of it until one morning when he wakes up and realizes it's too chilly for a t-shirt and shorts. He pulls on jeans and a sweater and kills time until his brothers and Him begin to make their presence around home known. Boomer takes that as his cue to go out.

Signs in storefronts advertise sales on pens, calculators, notebook paper. School is just around the corner, and its proximity leaves a sour taste in Boomer's mouth. Summer's threats of heatstroke are looking more and more appealing.

He is standing outside of a coffee shop debating whether or not to klepto someone's pumpkin spice drink when a familiar peal of laughter cuts through the autumn wind. A devious sneer lights his face; he looks around hurriedly and snatches an unlucky beetle off a nearby tree before zipping up into its branches.

He peeks out from his shelter of red and orange-gold to see where she's going. Heading right for the coffee shop! He holds his insect at the ready. This has turned into his lucky day...

The mischievous grin slowly dissolves from his face as she approaches. It sounded like her. It is her. He'd know that high-pitched squealer anywhere.

But she looks different. Her hair is down instead of in its usual pigtails, which catches him off guard. She's wearing a coat and boots, with just a hint of skirt between them. The boots have heels and clop against the cement. Something about it sounds distinctly adult to Boomer.

The closer she gets the more he is able to distinguish the slightly curved outline of her chest, her hips. Running his eyes over them makes him warm; he does it multiple times without even realizing. It doesn't help that she appears to be swishing instead of walking.

As she passes underneath him he notices a sparkle on her lips and bites his own. He also finally notices her companion, who jumps ahead to open the door to the coffee shop for her. He knows that kid from school.

Except he doesn't seem very kid-like. Neither of them do. Boomer shifts on his perch in the tree, glancing at his torn jeans and worn out sneakers. Much to the beetle's relief, he sets it down on a nearby branch.

He waits until they emerge outside again. The smells of cinnamon and pumpkin from her drink waft up into the branches, and Boomer remembers that he was on his way to getting his own before she showed up.

He leaps out, landing hard on the ground in front of her and is gratified to see her jump back, startled.

"Hand it over," he demands, and is then momentarily distracted by the realization that she is now taller than him.

It's too late to retreat, though. He holds his ground. She blinks blankly at him, then looks at her drink and exchanges a glance with the other guy. It irritates Boomer.

"Hey," he says, and suddenly her drink is shoved into his hands.

"Take it," she says simply. She turns and gingerly takes her companion's beverage, smiling sweetly at him. "I'll share with Mike."

Later Boomer is consumed with the memory of how she led a sputtering, blushing Mike away, not bothering to look at Boomer as she did, and how he stood there staring after them, her drink warming his hands in the chilly autumn breeze.

He looks down and spots the same sparkle from her lips glimmering on the lip of the lid. The drink itself is deliciously sweet and warms him from the inside out.

As he gulps it down the wind blows a red leaf into his hair. Boomer can't decide if he's ready for fall or if he'd rather it be summer again.