by Zoe Chant
They’d had a talk, the three of them, about Shelley being a lion shifter like Trevor—another of those conversations that wasn’t covered in any mommy blogs or child care manuals. But knowing she was a lion was a lot different than coming across one in the woods
She heard him snuffling at last, and was, for once, grateful for his non-stop running nose.
He was sitting in the center of a tiny clearing, not quite crying, but looking very close to it.
“Aaron!” Shelley cried in relief, running the last few steps to drop to her knees beside him. “Are you okay? I’ve been looking for you!”
“I wanted to be a bear,” Aaron explained. “Or even a dear, like Mommy. Trevor gets to shift, and I want to. He showed me this is where he comes, and I thought maybe I could...”
“You shouldn’t ever come by yourself,” Shelley scolded as she checked him over. There were scratches on his face and his hands, and he looked cold and dirty, but he seemed unharmed. “You have to ask. Someone grown up should always come here with you.”
Aaron’s chin quivered and he stared at his filthy tennis shoes. “I didn’t want to ask you,” he said sheepishly. “Because...”
“Because you heard that I didn’t like kids,” Shelley guessed with a stab of guilt. Dean had told her about what Shaun had said and about the conversation he’d had with Aaron afterwards.
Aaron didn’t say anything, continuing to stare down.
“Aaron,” Shelley said, her voice breaking. “Aaron, I may not be great with other kids, but I... I like you. I want you to ask me for things. Like your Halloween costume, or whatever. I want... I want to be your mom. Not to replace your mom, of course, just... could you ever think of me as family? Because I’d really like that.”
She wasn’t prepared for him to look up at her, tears in his hazel eyes, and then throw his arms around her neck, and she almost fell backwards from the force of it before folding her arms around him.
He was so slight and fragile in her embrace. Shelley held him tight, burying her face in his curls and willed her heartbeat to slow. He was okay, he was safe, and everything was going to be fine.
“We can be a team,” Aaron said near her ear. “Team Aaron and Shelley.”
Then he gave a little squeak. “Dad!” he cried, squirming out of Shelley’s arms, just as the hair on the back of her neck rose in alarm.
Shelley turned to find a bear snuffling its way out of the brush, nose in the air.
“Aaron, wait!” Shelley cried, as Aaron started to run towards it. “That’s not your dad!”
Wild bears in the fall should be fat and sleepy, but this bear was skinny, with a ragged coat, and its eyes were anything but sleepy. This was a hungry bear, maybe sick, and it had a bead on Aaron, who had stopped in confusion halfway to it.
“Don’t run!” Shelley yelped too late.
Aaron, realizing the danger he was in, turned on his heel and bolted back for Shelley.
The bear, its hunting instinct triggered by the small, soft prey fleeing it, charged forward with unexpected speed...
...and was met by a snarling lioness as Shelley shifted, shreds of her clothing scattering in a flurry of silk and linen.
Shelley’s unsheathed claws slashed across the bear’s face, before the greater bulk of the bear bowled her over. It roared at her, striking with heavy clawed paws and Shelley snapped her teeth, trying to get a grip on its sensitive nose. She had to stay between it and Aaron, she had to protect him.
Shelley was so focused on keeping Aaron safe, on driving the bear away from him, that she was incautious in her attacks, and the canny bear struck back, sinking teeth into her shoulder.
She roared in shock, then turned to bite back, able only to reach an ear from the angle of the hold the bear had on her. She twisted to claw at the bear’s neck and belly and the bear bellowed in pain and released her.
Both of them scrambled to their feet and faced off, Shelley circling deliberately so that she was once again in front of Aaron. She was limping.
The bear snuffled and swung its head back and forth, clearly trying to decide if the temptation of the prey was worth fighting the lioness. He outweighed Shelley considerably, but wasn’t as healthy or as fast. They were both bleeding, Shelley in sluggish lines from the place he’d locked his teeth, the bear from a dozen deep scratches and one torn ear. His injuries were largely cosmetic, but Shelley was clearly more invested in the outcome of the battle. She raised her head and roared a challenge, her tail lashing.
It was too much for the injured bear and he turned and shuffled back into the brush that he’d come from.
Shelley sat stiffly, and let her lioness twist to lick her injured shoulder while she decided what to do next.
“Sh-shelley?”
Shelley swung her head to see Aaron, eyes filled with frightened tears, arms clutched around himself. “Sh-shelley?” he repeated.
Shelley padded slowly up to him, and gave him a gentle head-butt. She was much larger as a lion than he was, but he fearlessly held his ground, and when Shelley leaned her big head against him, he wrapped his arms around her.
She licked him, and he giggled. “Ow,” he protested. “Your tongue is scratchy!”
They stayed that way a moment, Aaron hugging into the thick fur of her neck, Shelley leaning into his embrace. It was starting to snow.
“Your clothes got all ruined,” Aaron observed sorrowfully. “They were so fancy.”
Shelly shrugged, then pulled away. They needed to get back to the parking lot and she needed to find something to wear before they both got hypothermia. When Aaron started to walk beside her, she stepped in front of him. He tried to go around her, but she cut him off again.
Figure it out, she willed at him.
His eyes got big. “Can I ride you?” he asked enthusiastically.
Shelley let her jaw go loose in a big cat grin and nodded her head.
Lions were not built as riding animals, but Aaron was barely a burden, and he quickly figured out how to sit and where to hold on so that Shelley could carry him swiftly back to the parking lot, following her path by scent back the way they’d come.
Chapter 30
Dean pulled into the wide spot at the end of the drive, swearing and fighting down panic. It was starting to snow, very lightly, and he almost slipped stepping out of the truck. Shelley’s car was already there.
“Aaron!” he hollered desperately. “Aaron!” Shelley’s hasty note only said she was coming to look for Aaron here, no details about why Aaron would be here or why she had to look for him.
There were no signs of either of them. Not signs he could follow as a human.
He was unbuttoning his shirt and still struggling out of his work boots when he heard a distant, “Dad?”
Staying in human form, he ran towards the voice, and after a moment, met Aaron on a narrow trail, riding a limping lioness. “Dad!”
Dean’s heart nearly stopped as he realized that they were both covered in blood.
Then the lioness was shaking Aaron gently off her back and shifting into Shelley, naked and shivering. “It’s my blood, don’t worry,” she said, standing stiffly. “It’s already healing.”
Since his shirt was already half unbuttoned, he took it off the rest of the way and helped her, wincing, into it.
“Dad! She fought a bear! It was amazing! It was all rarrrrgh and whoosh and scary and Shelley roars way better than Trevor and it was really scary and can I go home now?”
“What were you doing out here?” Dean demanded, gathering the boy into his arms. Aaron was shivering, but seemed unharmed.
“I wanted to come practice trying shifting,” Aaron whined. “I’m sorry. I should have asked... but you were busy and I was scared to ask Shelley.”
Dean exchanged a look with Shelley.
She looked back at him and smiled, her silver eyes filled with relief. “We’re good now.”
“We’re a team,” Aaron agreed.
“Well, team,” Dean sa
id, almost shaky with relief. “What do you say we head home and have a snack and take hot showers?”
“Can I have a bath?” Aaron suggested.
“You boys go ahead,” Shelley said. “I’m going to shift again and heal up the worst of these bite marks. I don’t want to get rabies from some wild bear if I can help it.”
“What’s rabies?” Aaron wanted to know. “Is it like babies? Eeewwwwwww!”
Dean gave her a swift kiss and tried to buckle Aaron into his booster seat. “I can do it Dad, geez. I’m seven.” Torn between wanting to scold him some more and wanting to crush him in a hug, Dean stopped fussing over Aaron and went around to the driver’s seat. “See you soon,” he said to Shelley.
He drew Aaron a bath as soon as they got home, reminded him about splashing on the floor, and piled toys into the water with him.
He got downstairs just as Shelley pulled up. She looked around furtively, then dashed to the door, still wearing nothing more than his shirt. She was holding her purse and a large bundle of red material in her arms. Dean could only imagine the stories that was going to spark.
He caught her in his arms just inside the door, and Bingo bounced around them, barking and wagging his tail because all of his people were back where they belonged.
“Do you need something?” he asked. “A pill? You said the attacks usually happened after the stress, when you were safe again. Would a back rub help?”
“I’m fine,” Shelley said, embracing him awkwardly with her arms full of fabric. “I’m... actually fine.” She stepped back and looked at him with glowing eyes. “I’ll show you.” She put the things she’d been holding down on the table and unbuttoned his flannel shirt. The bite marks on her shoulder looked like old scabs now, or fresh scars. There was still dried blood on her skin.
“When I shift, it heals things up, right? Like, if you’re defying physics and changing into a completely new body, it’s going to make it the right new body, all healed up.” She tapped her forehead. “This, this is a chemical imbalance. Tricky to treat, more complicated than just muscles and skin, but still, the body not quite working right. And when I shift, it fixes things. That’s why I felt so great and in control after our first date—I’d gone running with my Dad and Trevor just the night before.”
She laughed and shook her head. “My lioness kept telling me that she could help, but I was sure that her idea of help was to turn into a lion and eat someone. I didn’t even consider that she could actually help me.”
“You beautiful, clever, brave, wonderful woman,” Dean said.
Her arms were free again, so Dean swept her up into a less encumbered hug, and added a probing kiss to it.
“I don’t think this is a permanent fix,” Shelley warned as they broke apart. “I mean, I really want it to be, but there will probably be times I don’t recognize what is happening, or can’t shift for some reason.”
“I love you and all your quirks,” Dean promised. “And even if this isn’t a fix-all, I will still love you.”
She sagged into him embrace, full of relief and gratitude.
“My water is cold!”
Aaron was standing at the bottom of the stairs wrapped in a towel.
“Let’s get you dried off and dressed for bed!” Dean let go of Shelley and she buttoned his shirt back up over herself.
“Oh, wait! Before you get dressed, I want you to try on your costume!” She walked to the table and unfolded the fabric to reveal a hooded pajama set trimmed in gold bric-a-brac. “I’ve got the logo patches on expedited order for the front and for the lightning bolts above the ears. They should be here tomorrow for the finishing touches. I just want to get the cuff lengths right. We’ll tuck up the extra so you can let it out when you get taller.”
“That looks great,” Dean said, impressed. He didn’t know much about sewing or design, but the costume looked well made.
Aaron frowned, and reluctantly tried it on. It fit him perfectly, with just enough room in the armpits that he’d be able to run around easily, and Shelley pinned up the legs and arms. She tightened the elastic at the waist and safety pinned it, then sat back on her heels.
“Well?” she asked. “Do you like it?”
Aaron petted the soft material and traced some of the trim. “It’s... nice.”
Shelley looked confused and then her face shuttered to her boardroom mask. “Okay,” she said patiently. “What would make it better?”
Aaron chewed on his lip and finally said. “I don’t want to be The Flash. I want to be Iron Man!”
“You said you wanted to be The Flash,” Shelley said in disbelief.
“Yeah, but I changed my mind because Iron Man can fly and blow things up.”
“But... I made you a Flash costume,” Shelley protested.
That was the point at which Dean could no longer hold his laughter in. “Aaron, why don’t you get out of that now and go get into your sleeping PJs.”
“But I’m huuuuunnnnnngggggry,” Aaron protested, wriggling out of the costume with Shelley’s help.
“You can eat dinner in pajamas,” Dean promised him, still chuckling. “Wait, take your wet towel and hang it on the rack in the bathroom.”
He knew there was an even chance that the towel would be found on the bedroom floor.
Shelley had a mixed expression of betrayal and bemusement on her face once Aaron had skipped up the stairs.
“Welcome to parenting,” Dean said, unable to keep from grinning at her. “Please don’t kill him.”
“I spent $23 for the expedited shipping,” she said in frustration. “This is a bait and switch!”
Dean tucked a piece of stray hair behind her ear. “We’ll have a bit of a talk before bed about being grateful and he’ll probably draw you a few apology cards. But he’s also seven, so it’s... a work in progress.”
Shelley pulled up her phone with a sigh and began googling photos of Iron Man. “I can probably order a new patch that looks like that glowy chest thing, and we can put on some gold mechanical looking bits on the sleeves and legs. Some red gloves, maybe? It will be hard to match that red.”
“You’re a good sport,” Dean said sincerely.
Shelley looked up from her phone and gave him a crooked smile. “I have good reasons to put in the work,” she said warmly. “Two of them, at least.”
Bingo groaned to his feet from where he’d been laying and trotted to get in on whatever activity he might have slept through, tail wagging.
“Three reasons,” Shelley amended, ruffling his ears.
She put her phone down as Dean gathered her into his arms again and kissed her. She was still wearing only his flannel shirt and her hair was still damp from the snow.
“So worth the work,” she murmured in his ear as he kissed down her neck. “Can I eat dinner wearing my pajamas, too?”
“Pajamas for all!” Dean declared magnanimously.
Hand in hand, they went upstairs to change. Aaron met them at the top of the stairs, dressed in his favorite pajamas. “Are you going to kiss?” he demanded in disgust.
“Probably a lot,” Dean said cheerfully.
“Ugh, ew! Gross!” Aaron mimed throwing up, or possibly choking; the particulars were uncertain, but the disgust was clear.
Epilogue
The shrieks of two happy children playing echoed across the spring lawn as they went hunting for Easter eggs. Bingo barked, romping with them. Trees were just starting to bud overhead, and early flowers were coming up in the beds.
“I think that your costumes are a success,” Dean said to Shelley as she put their crockpot down on the table on Shaun’s porch. “That is the sound of utter delight.”
“I’m never going to get Trevor out of it again,” Andrea lamented, bringing out a plate of cookies and a stack of napkins.
Aaron was wearing a blue costume, Trevor a red one. They were, at a glance, wearing simple, bright colored pajamas, but each garment was completely reversible. One side of the fabric was plain, the other p
rinted with mechanical patterns. Cleverly placed Velcro, snaps, buttons, and zippers allowed the application of superhero logos, capes, and accessories so that each outfit could have dozens of costume variations.
Currently, Trevor was dressed as Superman on the top, with mechanical wrist braces, cyborg legs, and no cape. Aaron had the Iron Man gloves, but was otherwise dressed as the Flash, with a cape of his own waving behind him as he streaked across the lawn in search of the hidden Easter loot.
Shelley personally thought they’d have a lot more luck finding the eggs if they slowed down and actually looked for them, but they were having so much fun that it was hard to criticize their methods, even if their baskets were empty.
“Those turned out wonderfully,” Tawny said. She was carrying a platter of vegetables and devilled eggs, and she put them on the potluck table on the porch. “Such clever touches! They’ll be able to imagine up their own superhero combinations.”
“We’re getting the licensing finalized this week and the workshop in Minneapolis should have them in production by the end of next month,” Shelley said, feeling shyly pleased. “And did you see? The cuffs all unfold so you can get an extra three inches out of the arms and legs. It’s good fabric, and quality stitching, plus all machine wash and dry.”
“Nice work, Shelley-bean,” her father said approvingly. He was carrying a platter of ham and Bingo was drooling and cavorting at his heels.
“They’re talking about a line for girls, too,” Shelley said, grinning, as Damien set his tray on the table with the other food. “A princess, fairy, witch line, as well as a superheroine set. It will have a little skirt, a cape that is just as long as the boys’ capes, bracelets, a crown... I’m really excited to start on it.”
“They’re very practical,” Tawny teased, handing her a carrot stick. Shelley took it automatically, then didn’t know what to do with it.
“How’s school going, Dean?” Damien asked.