Work Text:
‘In other news,’ The reporter continued, ‘The extensive snowfall from the past few days is expected to continue in full force-‘
Miles switched off the TV, fighting to keep his breathing steady. His gaze kept falling to the envelope which lay on the coffee table. Outside the blizzard raged on. In spite of the weather he felt unbearably hot, as though his very skin was a size too small.
‘It’s okay.’ Bonni’s voice came from behind him. ‘You can change if you need to. No one will see you.’
‘No, it’s okay.’ He insisted. ‘I’m fine.’
‘Don’t lie to me.’ Her voice remained level but firm.
Miles gave no reply; he clenched his fists, then his toes, along with what felt like his entire body. Blocking out every thought to focus on the singular desire to remain here, to remain whole.
Then he exhaled, and let himself relax. A tingle went up his spine as the façade of his human façade began to flicker in-and-out. An extra pair of arms unfolded from his torso; a barbed tail unfurled itself from his back. The last of the veil melted away, exposing the third burning red eye in the centre of his forehead.
Such a form was sleek, refined, bred for combat. Miles let out a long sigh as he got down on all fours – after learning to walk on two legs to “help maintain the illusion”, as Bonni put it, this was like putting on an old pair of shoes that still fit after all those years.
For the next few minutes Miles simply strutted about, enjoying his temporary freedom. But soon enough he was up on his hind legs again, back in his human disguise – no need to raise suspicion any more than they already had.
‘Feeling better?’ Bonni asked him.
‘Much.’ Miles replied, ‘I don’t know how you can stay in that form for so long.’
Bonni arched her back. ‘Practice makes perfect.’ She took a step closer to him. ‘Now will you please tell me what’s going on?’
Miles gestured to the window, and the snow billowing outside.
Bonni’s face darkened. ‘You don’t know if that’s connected. For all we know it could just be a coincidence.’
‘A coincidence? Five years ago this country would’ve been lucky to get an occasional shower. Since then there’s been a full-on snowstorm every year without fail. You call that a coincidence?’
Bonni gave a feeble shrug.
‘There’s more.’
Miles picked up the envelope and emptied a collection of photographs onto the table. They were rather grainy and out-of-focus, but still unmistakable.
Bonni’s eyes widened with the realisation. ‘Where the hell did you get these?’
‘That’s not important.’ Miles replied. ‘What is important is that they’re still trying to come here.’