Disclaimer: I'm a poor college student; I don't own anything.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Anything's fair game, but definitely Gaza and Memorial Day.
AN: Yes, this is another Gaza/Memorial Day reaction fic, but I swear it's not your typical post-ep fic. I have no idea where this came from, but here it is. I warn you it hasn't been betaed, so all mistakes are mine (and please let me know if you see them!)

"It's only a firefly to the light of the sun." –Duncan Shiek, "Reasons for Living"

I saw a firefly tonight walking up the steps of the hospital. There was only one, flying over some shrubbery near the entrance. For a few brief moments, I was captivated by the sight of the lone insect in the period where all sunlight disappears and dusk becomes night. But my wonder faded quickly into confusion. Wasn't it somewhat early in the season for fireflies to be making an appearance? Wouldn't the climate still be too cool for this firefly to survive? I shrugged the questions off, realizing I knew absolutely nothing about fireflies or the climate of Germany.

Donna would know though. Donna loves fireflies. The first firefly sighting of the summer is a momentous occasion. The calendar may proclaim the first day of summer to be June 21, but ask Donna and she'll say the first day of summer is when the fireflies come out, not a day sooner or later. She'll also tell you that, as a child, she used the fireflies to mark another special day, her birthday. She'll tell you that fireflies in Wisconsin usually appear mid-June, signaling her that her birthday near the end of the month was rapidly approaching.

She'll tell you the story of her seventh birthday, a summer picnic on the shores of Lake Ripley. It was a family affair, with various members of the Moss clan in attendance, including her favorite cousin, Leah. An afternoon of sun and sand castles and the surf, of brats and burgers and birthday cake, had turned into an evening of relaxed conversation and sleepy children. Apparently, Donna and Leah had forgotten that evening was supposed to mean they were to have less energy. They had pilfered the empty relish container and were determined to catch enough fireflies to substitute as a nightlight in Donna's room (Leah was quite happy with her own nightlight).

Donna's mother, however, had other ideas. The girls were told that they couldn't take the fireflies home; they needed to let them go. Of course, Donna was crushed. She couldn't understand why the tiny lightening bugs couldn't accompany her home. Her mother explained to her that she already had a nightlight, but the animals near the lake didn't. They had to use the fireflies as their nightlight. If they took the bugs home, then some of the animals wouldn't have their nightlight and they might get scared. Terrified at the idea of causing helpless animals to be frightened, she and Leah quickly set to releasing the insects.

I smile every time Donna tells this story. I smile because I can easily imagine a young Donna, wide-eyed and curious, running around, returning the fireflies to their proper place in nature. I smile because Donna smiles. I smile because her story helps me to forget the crappy memories I have of the creatures.

My mom had this rule when I was a kid that when the fireflies came out at night, it was time to come inside. I remember trying to pretend one evening when I was around six that I didn't see them. My friend, Scott, from down the street, and I continued playing like we did on so many summer nights. It didn't work. Joanie ratted me out, and as a result, I was prevented from playing outside the next evening. I got as mad as a six year-old could possibly get at his older sister, but she seemed to enjoy that even more.

I saw the fireflies the next night anyway, but this time it was from the back of an ambulance. The next night was the night of the fire. I saw the fireflies and I knew I wasn't supposed to be outside, yet I knew that I couldn't very well be inside. Regardless, I kept looking around for Joanie, expecting her to come around to tell me in a teasing, sing-song voice that I was in trouble. She never did though. That's when I knew that something was really wrong. Joanie loved to get me in trouble. She never missed an opportunity, yet I was outside after the fireflies were out and she was nowhere to be found.

I remember thinking, as I was worrying about Joanie in the back of that ambulance, waiting for my parents to return from their night out, what were the fireflies doing out. Being only six, I thought the only reason for fireflies to light up was to provide light. I knew nothing of protection from predators or mating rituals. I thought fireflies came out to light up the night. So, with the logic of a child, I couldn't figure out why the fireflies were out when the light from my burning house could be seen for miles. When I remember that night, I can see the glow of the fireflies more clearly than the blazing illumination of the fire.

So, you see, I'm not a huge fan of fireflies. But Donna...Donna sees them as the eighth wonder of the world. There was a night in late August the summer after Rosslyn. She had come over for dinner as she had done so many nights before. After the dishes were cleared and the leftovers safely put away, she left me to read the latest issue of Popular Science (this was the beginning of my physics craze) and escaped for a respite outside on the steps of my building. Satisfied that I had devoured every piece of information in the magazine, I looked to the clock, astonished that nearly an hour had passed. Concerned, I made my way outside, fully aware that I would be chastised for venturing out of the confines of my apartment.

I was right. As soon as she heard the door open and saw me hobbling towards her, the riot act began. For a full five minutes, she yelled and I tried to listen. I couldn't concentrate, however, as I was focused on the tears threatening to fall from her eyes and the streaks on her cheeks from the tears that had previously fallen. After her justifiable tirade, I cupped her cheek, wiping away the tears, and asked her what was wrong. She sighed, looking away into the night, and simple replied, "There are no fireflies in the city."

I'll have to tell Donna that I saw a firefly tonight. If only because it will make her smile. And that will make me smile.