Parr for the Course
By Shahrezad1
Summary: "When you got down to it, they were only human." Unrelated glimpses into each of the Parr's lives.
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue. McDonald's does not belong to me, nor does the videogame/boxing term of K.O. Or any characters from the movie "Lilo and Stitch."
Dedicated to Ella for her hilarious review. XD
Chapter 4: Dash
Dashiell Robert Parr, alias The Dash, watched the police officers at their task with glazed eyes. He took in neither the apartment building, whose flames he had smothered using his super-speed, nor the arrested arsonist, Billy Blaize. A kid no older than himself with a talent for making sparks--intentionally, the black-haired youth was scowling at him from across the expanse of the parking lot, hands cuffed and head being shoved into the back of a police car. But he saw none of it. Nor did he recognize the approving nods coming from men twice his age. All thankful; all respectful of the work he did to make the city--their city--safe at night.
He was just too tired.
That isn't to say he wasn't satisfied with a job well done. There was nothing quite like busting bad guys when it came to having adrenaline rushes and boosted confidence. And he knew he'd done well, especially in this case. Phenomenal even, particularly for it being the end of his first month out on his own, footloose and fancy free in his 'assigned city.'
In his father's own words, he'd "done good."
But matching speed for speed, the triumph had exhaustion nipping at its heels. The ache between his shoulders, brought about by endless solitary stake-outs, was growing to become an avalanche of pain. And his day job was definitely suffering from the lack of sleep he'd been suffering lately. After all, while the job of chauffeuring was definitely good, steady work, falling asleep at the wheel was something he just couldn't afford. It was just one thing on top of another these days, and it was finally starting to add up.
He needed a break. At least for a day or two.
Sighing, Dash thanked all that was Good for the existence of a day off from work. Then left a voicemail for his sister, calling in a favor she owed him.
~/~/~
Man, did it feel good to be alive.
Running his feet rapidly along the water, he watched as the waves undulated like wheat in the wind. A slight breeze was coming in, mixing the currents with air so that a near-surf-worthy atmosphere existed, but not so extreme as to be a danger to the young hero. Instead he took the opportunity to practice running into a leap, before catching himself once again upon the waves, never faltering between.
The deepened water glowed with life and vitality and everything he'd been missing the last month, reflecting mystery and the clear optimism of a blue sky within its reflective bottle-green depths. And even as he continued rushing towards his destination he was able to watch as a variety of creatures, from predators to prey, passed by in a flash. A pod of dolphins attempted to keep pace with him for mere seconds before he left their gleeful cries behind, the echo of their smiles bringing out a grin of his own. And as the newly-released Super ran for the horizon, and of course the blessed paradise he would find there, he let out a full-scale whoop of joy.
Soon enough the beach came into view, its location as deserted as his sister had said it would be. She'd stumbled across the site when on an undercover mission last fall and had mentioned it to him almost absently, but he'd never quite forgotten her description of Hawaiian foliage and clear rolling waterfalls. The only thing missing from his proverbial seventh heaven was a beautiful girl on either side, really. And the idea of an undiscovered lagoon all to his self for an entire day was well worth the blackmail he'd resorted to in order for Invisigirl to 'cover his shift,' so to speak.
But it had only taken the tiniest bit of wheedling, and he knew it. She'd recognized the exhaustion in his voice and had only put up a front of disagreement, so he could have at least one day off before everything started all over again. Back to work; back to his Superhero mantle…
But enough of that. That was tomorrow, and this was today. And he was very much determined to enjoy today.
Making one final leap from liquid surface to solid, the speedster rolled midair so that when he landed he was completely dry. It wouldn't really matter one way or the other, especially as he intended to return to it for a cool and refreshing frolic later, but at least it left part of his super-suit dry for when he decided it was time to go.
Dashiell peeled off the top layer of said suit, taking off both shoes but keeping his mask on in a whim, before turning back to the rushing tide. This time instead of skimming like a stone across the top he dove right in, like a four year old into a McDonald's Playplace ball-pit. Sensation immediately surrounded him from head to toe, and the layers of grit and sweat were wiped clean; replaced with cool water and the warm filtering of the Hawaiian sun.
Digging proverbially deeper, the youth pushed outward from the lagoon and back into the wide ocean, reveling in the serenity of the day. Then, on a whim, checked to see what kind of affect his super-speed would have on the water. It was disastrous at first, bringing up a mix of clay and floor-bed muck, but soon he had accustomed himself to the feel of slowing his movements while still keeping them fairly fluid and swift.
Unconsciously his long, lean limbs clasped together in a tail of sorts, the brilliant crimson of his leggings a contrast to the oceanic blue-greens, and while he couldn't quite reach the same velocity as when running he still picked up a decent speed. Lost in the experience, he returned back to the surface he'd temporarily left behind. Nearly leaping from the water as he dramatically filled his lungs with air, Dash felt the water come off of his back and chest in a rush, like a spontaneous waterfall.
So this is what it must feel like to be a dolphin, was his absentmindedly cheerful thought, and slicking back the blonde hair suddenly turned brown by the moisture he allowed himself one last view of the glorious setting sun.
Its radiant purples and marmalade oranges filled something in his chest that had previously been a tight, hot ball of anxiety. And in that moment it was suddenly replaced with the feeling of warmth and air, as though his lungs were becoming hot air balloons and would float away if he didn't keep a careful eye on them. Like a campfire on a cool summer night.
Finally exhaling, the Super allowed sense to return as he thought about practical things like what he would be eating for dinner that night, and what would happen when the sun set and it got colder. Lost in thought and contemplation, he turned, then immediately came to a halt, caught unawares.
A girl. There was a girl on his beach.
A girl on his beach, holding a surfboard under one arm, edge gripped by a supple hand, and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the other. He could tell because its contents were oozing out, unnoticed by the female. And she was watching him; had probably been watching him for a while, even.
And he couldn't help but watch her.
Long, black hair and bangs parted off to the side. Smooth, milk-chocolate skin, and curves rounded out and smoothed from years of surfing and hula dancing. Somehow he could tell by the way her hip was cocked that this was so, the stance saying in a heartbeat that she could waltz across his heart for all he cared and Dash would be helpless to stop her.
She was dressed incongruously in a spaghetti strap-and-shorts swimsuit combo that only emphasized her confidence, her elegant feet bare beautiful against the pearlescent sand. And her eyes…as he met her dark eyes the man felt his heart skip a beat. She was intelligent as well as beautiful, her head titling one way and the other without fear as she was upfront in her own perusal.
And watching her watch him he found himself asking, what was that he had said about beautiful girls?
Shivering, Dash wanted and wished to ask her name, but sensation again intruded. This time with the information that he was cold, by golly! And could he please get back into the water or at least put a shirt on or something?
A shirt. He didn't have his shirt. But he did have a mask, thank heavens.
Still, he blinked rapidly then blushed furiously as he realized how he must look, bare to the waist and standing up to his ribs in water. The young hero cursed and dove back into the ocean with a flip of footed-fin. But she was already in the salty brine with him, grasping his lightly muscled bicep in a hand accustomed to dealing with stronger things, having discarded her cargo on the shore. And Dash found himself once again facing the lovely being, but at a much closer proximity this time.
He could feel the blood in his face spread embarrassingly along his exposed shoulders, ears, and neck, like it always did, as she continued scrutinizing him. Then she opened her mouth to speak.
"Are you a Merman?"
Two seconds, then, "Huh?"
She was forthright in her question, but still it made no sense to him, "Are. You. A. Merman? Don't worry, I'll keep your secret safe if you are. I know aliens and FBI Agents and all sorts of people, so you can trust me. I promise on my surfboard, Lelani." And then she spat into her second hand as though to strike a bargain.
He didn't know if it was sweet or gross, but decided on a neutral but intelligent, "what are you talking about?"
"A merman," she answered slowly, as though talking to someone either surprisingly thick or extremely young. And then she did something surprising. She removing the unsoiled hand from his upper arm in order to grasp him by the calve, nearly K. his balance in the process. Only by grasping her own shoulders (with an indignant, 'hey!') did he manage to stay upright, and only then through extreme effort.
Seeing only feet she immediately let the offending limb go, however, form drooping slightly in disappointment. And he wished for a second, even though they had just met, that he could bring it back. But how? It's not like he could suddenly turn into a webbed water-dweller with a wish and whirl, he scoffed mentally. And what was he doing making wishes like that anyway? He liked himself the way he was, thank you very much, and no girl with huge eyes like chocolate éclairs was gonna--.
She looked up into his blue eyes, blinking thoughtfully.
Hoo boy. This was going to be difficult.
"Um, no. I'm not a merman."
"Yeah, I got that," she answered in a suddenly lackluster tone, and he winced, "it's just that I saw you doing flips and going all over the place and I thought you might be. And Pleakley said they don't exist, but I still don't completely believe him. Especially not after those fishermen were saved from getting shipwrecked last fall."
None of this was making sense to him, but the fact still remained that (1) he wasn't a merman, and (2) she was still standing too close. Her next words, however, stopped him where he stood.
"And I figured you were either a Merman, a bandit, or possibly an illegal pearl diver. So if you weren't a merman, I thought I'd at least stop you for questioning. Which has been quite successful, in my opinion," she continued with a suddenly very wry smile, and Dash realized her hand had returned to its clasp on his uncovered skin, doggedly holding on despite his attempts to be released, "Sooo…Mr. Masked Man, would you mind explaining just who you are and what you're doing on private property? Hmm?"
Crap. Crapcrapcrap.
He was officially screwed.
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AN:
Wrote this straight out on the computer, no dafts, no nothing. I feel rather proud of myself, although you have to give me some leeway in regards to spelling and grammar for this same reason. –nods-
Again, this is dedicated to Ella for one of the funniest reviews I've ever received for a fanfic. I sure hope Teenage Dash is hot enough for you, although he just seems kind of awkward and embarrassed now to me. XD But the idea of him without a shirt is totally made of 'win,' to copy the overused phrase. ^^ Thanks for the inspiration.
McDonald's Playplace ballpit--an enclosed play area at McDonald's restaurants which includes a pit filled with hollow, multicolored plastic balls for small children to jump into.
Lelani is the name of a girl I went to school with in Elementary/Middle School. Waaaay back, when the dinosaurs roamed the Earth.
K.O. is a videogame term, referring to being "Knocked Out" in one to two individual strikes. Some games considered multiple hits still as a K.O., but it typically refers to very few hits. I think the term is also used in boxing, but I'm not sure.