The Magpie turned to look down at his young friend, showing no concern for the question. He wasn’t even sure of the answer, so his mind emptied instead. Squirrel’s currently pink and blue ombre hair highlighted smooth, porcelain skin and light blue eyes, and hung just above the tiny shoulders of a tiny frame. Aside from the smallest bump of an Adam’s apple and what was well-hidden beneath their clothing, a close inspection wouldn’t reveal this person’s sex. Even their voice held no clues - light and feminine, but still not quite female.

Today, Squirrel was dressed in a white, long-sleeved blouse, loosely tucked into a pink, mid-length pleated skirt that sat high on the waist. With eyeliner, mascara, and lip gloss, black flats, large hoop earrings, and black painted nails, anyone would think they were an attractive young woman. Yet only a month prior, his friend had sported fitted t-shirts and jeans, heavy black boots, a clean face and blond hair piled messy on top of the head. Squirrel liked the term gender fluid, freely moving between gender expectations. Though they were usually more feminine, sometimes they weren’t. Sometimes they weren’t for weeks, sometimes for months, but regardless of their current place on the gender spectrum, they rarely explained, happy to leave the world guessing. At the end of the day, Squirrel was just Squirrel – sweet, but take-no-shit, blunt, and always playful.

“What are you staring at? Did you hear me?”

“Huh?” The Magpie had drifted into a daze, replaying the morning’s events back in his mind. All of those distractions and questions had piled up and finally found a free moment to break through. “What did you say?”

Squirrel let out an irritated sigh, pointing to the girl in his arms. “This thing you’re holding. Where did you get it?”

“Ah. This is the bigger issue.”

From the soft breathing and still body, the child seemed to have fallen asleep. He carried her over to a long couch by the windows, but when he tried to lay her down, little arms circled further around his neck. With a groan, he collapsed onto the couch, the small creature stuck to his chest and now squeezing tight enough to press against his throat. Squirrel joined him, one leg crossed over the other and arms folded, impatiently waiting for an explanation.

“I’m guessing this is Charlotte’s daughter,” he coughed out, shifting a tiny elbow away just enough to breathe.

He watched as his friend’s shining eyes widened again. “Charlotte? The mark? She had a daughter?”

With a nod, he used his free hand to scratch at his scruff. “A daughter, and something else the Suns are desperate to find. The place was torn apart.”

“If they sent Lost Horizon, it can’t be anything minor.” Squirrel had already moved past the shock, thinking seriously about the situation. “And if they don’t find it, they’ll be coming after the girl.”

Shaking his head, he glanced down at the child. “They were surprised when they found her. Rising Suns doesn’t know she exists and the two in the apartment are dead. They won’t be telling anyone.”

His friend hummed, a hand placed on their chin and finger delicately tapping their cheek. “Give me a moment.” Squirrel danced over to a bank of monitors on the far side of the room, taking a seat and typing away.

As he waited, the Magpie closed his eyes and dropped his head back into the couch cushion, listening to the rapid clicking of keys and feeling the rhythm of the girl’s breathing against him. He had worn an oversized sweatshirt to conceal his identity, but after almost an hour with a warm body pressed to him, he was beginning to sweat. It was tempting to tear the child away, but he couldn’t force himself to move her, so he just groaned again and laid a hand lightly on her back.

“Time to wake up, sweetheart.”

The gleeful teasing drifted into his ear and his eyes squinted open, seeing Squirrel’s blurry face only inches from his own, grinning widely.

He flinched, then let out a heavy breath, more annoyed now than before he had dozed off. “Shit, Squirrel...” Scratching at his scruff, he groaned yet again, his neck and back stiff and aching. Everything had tensed, hoping the girl would drift off, and now every movement was like pins and needles stabbing at him. “How long was I asleep?”

“Three hours.” They giggled and backed away, sitting on the low coffee table in front of him. “I finished in two and a half, but you were just too precious. Don’t worry. I have pictures.”

Squirrel’s energetic and playful nature led to a constant teasing of the large, stoic Magpie. Mostly because it had never made an impact. He was like stone, and never once showed that he was particularly bothered by his friend’s joking.

“You should’ve woken me,” he said, not feeling too bothered by this either. He only wanted to figure this out as soon as possible. The sooner that happened, the sooner he could return to his normal life. 

The arms around his neck were lighter now, hanging slack over his shoulders, with the girl fast asleep on his chest. As carefully as possible, he shifted her over, laying her onto the couch. She didn’t budge, sleeping peacefully, and he saw her face for the first time – the same fair skin, with pink cheeks and lips, and ears and eyes slightly too large for her face. He huffed out an almost silent laugh, thinking she looked just like a mouse. For a brief moment, he wondered what color those big eyes were.

Another little giggle pulled him from his daze, Squirrel still grinning from their seat on the table. “Look at you, you big softie. You like her.”

“I’m not attached to her in any way.”

They nodded but flashed a few white teeth as their smile spread. They didn’t believe him. “I know you.” Leaning forward, Squirrel stared. “Your eyes are smiling.”

“Just tell me what you found.” His palm easily covered their face as he pushed the tiny head away. Then he felt the playful flick of a tongue, immediately pulling back.

After a third giggle, Squirrel held out an elegant hand, latching onto his. “Congratulations, my warm-hearted friend. You’re now the proud father of a beautiful, three-year-old girl.”