# The Birds And The Bees

Title: The Birds And The Bees
Status: Complete
Characters: Anon, Fang, Amber
Rating: SFW
Classification: One Shot
Author: F4L
Summary: Kids say the darndest things.
​
Birds chirping, the aroma of freshly cut grass, a gentle breeze through the open window. The traditional hallmarks of spring signal the end of winter for another year. Behind the sink, a bald human is fervently scrubbing a cast iron pot. The occasionally muttered expletive at the expense of the burned-on rice can be heard if one was standing close enough.
​
"Just leave it to soak," the human makes a mocking noise at the advice he's been given, "It's been soaking for two days, and it's still not coming off. This wouldn't have happened if it was pasta."
​
After several minutes of scraping, scrubbing, and swearing, the pot is finally clean. Or at least as clean as it could be given the circumstances. With the last dish finally taken care of, maybe the human can take a few minutes to relax. His hopes and dreams are dashed moments later when something, or rather someone, tugs at his trouser sleeve. A quick glance reveals it's none other than his precious daughter, looking up to him as she always does when she has some burning question to ask him. Debating who would win in a fight between Amber's latest choice of contestants was something that amused him to no end.
​
"Dad, where did I come from?"
​
Anon slowly puts away the washcloth while he processes what just happened. The day he has been dreading has finally arrived and much earlier than anticipated. How convenient Fang was out running errands on this fateful day. For a moment, Anon considered telling the truth. Honestly is the best policy, right? That is until Amber inevitably shares her newfound knowledge with her classmates. What could go wrong if an entire class of first graders is armed with accurate knowledge of reproduction? The other parents might even thank him for his service. A repeat of when Amber introduced all her classmates to the world of swearing. Anon still asserts his claim that it wasn't his fault. Although, he can't be one hundred percent certain she didn't overhear him after a rough match of Rock Ring 2. Bad enough, he got chewed up by the teachers and a few less than understanding parents. He also lost the bet he made with Fang. The prospect of her wearing her old high school outfit was just too hard to pass up, no matter how the odds were stacked against him. At least she was graceful in victory and didn't rub it in, and the date wasn't that bad, even if he had to dress up all fancy for it.
​
Amber is still standing where she was moments before, eagerly awaiting an answer to her burning question. No bright idea has popped into his head yet, no matter how hard he's stalling. The human leans back against the counter and takes a deep breath, hoping a flash of inspiration hits him on the eleventh hour. Nope, nothing.
​
"See, when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much, they, uh..."
​
Is it wrong to hope Amber suddenly develops ADD? Of course, it is. What the hell is he thinking?
​
"...they, well, um..."
​
The tiny ptero is unphased by her father's fumbling of words. He has her complete and undivided attention.
​
"When a mommy and a daddy love each other very much and want to have a baby, they call the..."
​
Where the hell is going with this? Is he really gonna use the same goddamn cliche his father used on him on his own daughter?
​
"They call who, dad?
​
Yes, yes, he is.
​
"The stork!"
​
Amber's puzzled expression reveals this was not the answer she was expecting.
​
"The...stork?"
​
Shit, shit, shit, this isn't the internet. He can't just pull the refuses to elaborate card. Why did it have to be him? This was supposed to be Fang's job.
​
"Yeah, you see, they call the stork," the human takes a big gulp. Such an innocent question causes his nerves to fray like an old rope, "And if the stork sees they truly love each other and would be good parents, it brings them a baby."
​
He's as cool as a cucumber. As long as one ignores the beads of sweat rapidly forming on his forehead, shaky voice, and dried-out throat.
​
"Is there just one stork, or are there many storks?"
​
Didn't he say he wasn't taking follow-up questions? Guess not.
​
"I think there are many storks?"
​
What expert doesn't question his own theory from time to time? While Amber is, without a doubt, thinking of even more follow-up questions, Anon fills up a glass of ice-cold water. Maybe the water will go down the wrong pipe, cause him to start choking and free him of this interrogation by the tiny ptero.
​
"Where do the storks get the babies?"
​
What did he do to deserve this? Luckily he's bald. He would be now in any case, or at least his hair would have turned snow-white from the stress.
​
"...stork trade secret."
​
"Is that why I have a beak? Because I'm part stork?"
​
Careful what you wish for. The water absolutely went down the wrong way, thanks to that question.
​
"What?!" after almost passing out from the coughing fit, he continues, "No. It's because your mom has one too."
​
While Amber is getting ready to deliver another hard-hitting question, Anon puts away the glass and places his hands on his knees. Today was supposed to be relaxing, yet he feels positively exhausted, and it's barely noon too.
​
"So you had to send the storks pictures of mom?"
​
'She'd kill me if I sent pictures of her to anyone.'
​
"What was that, dad?
​
"Nothing!" even after all these years, his body still betrays him, "No, I didn't send the storks any pictures of her."
​
"Then, how did they know to give me the same beak as mom has?"
​
"They're very smart storks."
​
It's over. Anon is well and truly at the end of his rope now. There's no more bullshit answer for him to pull after that one. He's been outplayed by his own daughter. He'd feel proud if it was about literally anything else. Someone call the medic because he's about to pass out.
​
"Dad?"
​
The nightmare continues. Anon's voice is tired and barely above a whisper.
​
"What is it, sweaty?"
​
"If the mom and dad are different, do they have to call a special stork?"
​
"What do you mean by 'different'?"
​
"You're a human, right?"
​
"Sure am."
​
To be honest, he wasn't sure of anything anymore, but hopefully, he got the answer right, all the same.
​
"And mom's a pero-, a ptor-, a pthero-"
​
"A pterodactyl."
​
"Yes! Thanks, dad."
​
Maybe he does actually know something. Or Amber's giving him some easy pitches to build up his confidence before she goes for the killing blow again.
​
"I'm just asking because none of the kids at school have a human dad and dinosaur mom, and..."
​
Whatever fatigue Anon was experiencing is suddenly gone. It was time to stop messing around and switch to serious business mode. He was dreading the day when something like this would inevitably happen. To think he thought he had at least until high school before the nature of his and Fang's marriage would cause Amber problems. The human gets down on one knee and puts his hands on his daughter's shoulders.
​
"Are the kids at school giving you a hard time because you have a human dad?"
​
Amber's gaze falls to the floor. Her voice becomes quieter and loses its characteristic cheery tone, "Sometimes..."
​
"How long has this been happening?"
​
"It started a few weeks ago..." Amber sniffs once before resuming her usual, brighter attitude, "It's OK now, though. It doesn't happen anymore."
​
Anon somehow doubts her classmates would drop the issue of their own volition, especially if Amber made it clear it upset her. Kid's can be incredibly cruel sometimes.
​
"Did you tell your teachers, or..."
​
His daughter's innocent laughter always made his day brighter, "Nope! I told mom."
​
Fang sure didn't feel like sharing anything regarding this incident with him. It's not like her to hide anything from him.
​
"And what did mom do?"
​
"When she came to pick me up the next day, she told me to show her which kid was mean to me..."
​
"Go on, honey."
​
"So I did, and she walked over to the kid's dad. I couldn't hear what he said, but mom started yelling at him."
​
"I see."
​
"..."
​
It's not like Amber to stop in the middle of a story. Anon can't remember the last time he had to tell her to continue.
​
"Amber, what's wrong?"
​
"Mom made me promise not to tell you."
​
"It's OK, sweaty. I'll explain why you told me to mom. Now, what happened next?"
​
Assured of being protected from her mother's wrath for breaking a promise she had made, Amber continues the story.
​
"Well, I couldn't hear most of it, but whatever the kid's dad said made mom really mad. She said a bunch of nono words."
​
"She did, did she?"
​
Amber's voice becomes more excited with every passing moment as the little tike recalls the events, "She also punched him!"
​
"She did what?!"
​
"Yeah! It was so cool! She made him cry."
​
No wonder Fang didn't tell him anything about this. Amber still wasn't done, though.
​
"She also called him a little bitch."
​
Immediately after realizing she said a bad word, Amber quickly places her tiny hands over her mouth, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
​
"It's OK. You get a free pass," Anon does what could be considered a squint if one was being generous, "This time."
​
"Thanks, dad."
​
"You said this happened a few weeks ago, right?"
​
"Uh-huh."
​
That was around the same time when Amber swore in class which caused him to lose the bet and get in hot water at the PTA. He knew it wasn't his fault. Taking in the entire account causes him to completely miss the front door opening. In walks Fang carrying several groceries bags, none the wiser of what was discussed just moments ago. He was so absorbed in Amber's tale he didn't even hear the car pull up the driveway.
​
"Hi, sweety! Hi, handsome," Fang's voice becomes ever so slightly husky, and she gives him a wink before returning to her default tone, "What are you two up to?"
​
"Oh, we were just talking abo-"
​
"Dad was telling me where I came from!"
​
Maybe he should have made Amber promise to not tell Fang anything about their talk. He could have bought himself a few weeks at least. Fang is still preoccupied with putting away the groceries, seemingly ignoring what Amber said. The ever-widening smile on her face makes it obvious the older ptero is already imagining how the talk went.
​
"And what did dad tell you?"
​
"He said you two called a stork to get me."
​
A single snort escapes her before the Fang abandons putting away the groceries and scoops up the younger one in her arms.
​
"Is that so?"
​
While Amber is distracted by her mother's tight embrace, the older ptero looks at Anon. She mouths 'A stork?' towards her husband, who can't respond in any other way besides shrugging in defeat. The taller of the pteros gives Anon a knowing look, informing him she'll get to the bottom of this sooner or later. For the moment, however, her attention returns to her offspring.
​
"Do you want to know what my dad told me when I asked him the same question?"
​
Amber nods enthusiastically, eager to hear what grandpa Ripley had to say on the matter.
​
"He said I came from an egg! Can you believe that?"
​
A fraction of a second later, the two most important ladies in Anon's life erupt in boisterous laughter. Even he has a hard time keeping it together. An egg. Preposterous.
​
"Mom?"
​
"What is it, honey?"
​
"If it's not the stork, and it definitely isn't an egg, then where did I come from?"
​
Fang lets out a long sigh. One is never ready to explain something like this.
​
"Tell you what, I promise to explain it to you when you're a few years older. Deal?"
​
"How much older?"
​
Fang hesitates, for a moment, trying to work out the optimal time to give her daughter 'the talk' in her head.
​
"Let's say when you're eleven. Does that sound fair?"
​
"I guess..."
​
Unlike Anon, Fang knows when it's time to try and distract Amber before she can come up with even more awkward questions.
​
"What do you say you spend some time practicing on the piano while dad and I finish putting away the groceries?"
​
"Can I play whatever I want?"
​
Fang tries to hide her pained smile. She knows the cacophony that awaits them. For the moment, Amber should have fun playing the piano instead of adhering to strict rules and restrictions. What good is getting her to learn how to play if you make her hate it?
​
"Of course."
​
"Yay!"
​
A few minutes later, the house is filled with the sound of the piano. Most of the time, it's pure torture, but every so often, a few of the notes are strung together in such a way that comes across as remarkably pleasant. While their daughter takes artistic liberties with twinkle twinkle little star, the parental duo busy themselves by putting away the rest of the groceries. Instead of the usual chatter between the two that accompanies any chore they do together, it's substituted with silence. Only the occasional stifled snicker escapes Fang's mouth. Anon desperately tries to distract himself by staring intently at the fridge's contents. Hoping to figure out a way to stack all the things Fang bought in such a way that doesn't result in an expensive Jenga tower. His musings are cut short when his ptero wife brushes against him, reaching inside the fridge for a bottle of soda. With her prize secured, she lingers close to her husband, reducing her voice to a whisper so only he can hear.
​
"Really, Anon? The stork?"
​
Of course, it sounds stupid when someone else says it. Doesn't stop Anon's cheeks and ears from turning bright red. Satisfied with Anon's response, the ptero pulls back and awaits her husband's next move with the biggest grin imaginable.
​
"Look, she caught me off guard."
​
"Yeah, kids tend to do that. The things some of them say in school. Pure insanity sometimes."
​
"Speaking of things kids say. Amber shared a story about something that happened a few weeks ago."
​
"Oh? What about?"
​
Fang looks at Anon intently, waiting for him to continue. The occasional sips of cola through a straw tell him he's been silent for a while.
​
"Something about a kid making fun of her for having a human parent."
​
The steady stream of cola froze in the straw. By the sound of it, it won't be a story about a weird dream or cool bug Amber saw. Taking her time to carefully put away the nearly empty bottle, Fang takes a deep breath before speaking.
​
"Right. That. Look, I took care of it. Frankly, I don't see what good it would do if I told you."
​
"..."
​
"Unless you want to know in excruciating detail the kind of words some random asshole used when referring to us. Because let me tell, some of it is pretty fucked up."
​
"..."
​
At this point, the ptero is talking more to herself. Fang has completely forgotten anyone is around her.
​
"Who the hell does the guy think he even is? Talking shit about someone he doesn't know anything about because it goes against his preconceived notions. What if I married and had a kid with a human? It's none of his business. The dumb asshole was lucky I didn't kick him in the balls so hard it sterilized him. At least it would ensure that little brat was the last one he ever fostered. The world would probably be better off, anyway."
​
"..."
​
"Usually, these fucks aren't brave enough to say what they're thinking to my face. But when they do, they think I'll just stand there and take it. As if I'm afraid of them. Well, too bad, dipshit, you're gonna get your teeth knocked out. Just be happy the law prevents me from ripping out your throat. It's funny how they're all bluster and bravado until they get a faceful of knuckles, go down in a single punch, then cry to their momma. A bunch of little bitches is all they are... "
​
"Fang..."
​
The monologing ptero finally snaps out of her trance, realizing she's brought herself to the verge of tears by recalling the event. As she takes stock of her surroundings, she realizes Anon is holding her shoulders with a very concerned look on his face. Choking back on a sob, Fang pulls her husband into a tight hug with her arms and wings.
​
"I...I just wanted to spare your feelings. Is that so wrong?"
​
Another sob, but this time there's no holding back the waterworks. The couple can only hope Amber's music will continue to drown out Fang's crying. All the human can do is slowly stroke her back while Fang lets it all out. After a few minutes, Fang's crying has subsided, and only the occasional sniffle can be heard to the tune of the Tetris theme, but half the notes are wrong.
​
"I'm...I'm sorry, Anon. I know I should have told you. It's just..."
​
"Shhh, it's OK. You have nothing to apologize for."
​
Fang's grip around Anon's waist becomes slightly stronger, bringing the human into an even tighter embrace. Sniffling is replaced with content sighing as the human continues to stroke her back and hair.
​
"You know, I do feel better now. So thanks for the therapy session," a low chuckle is shared between them, "You can't charge me, though."
​
"I wouldn't dream of it."
​
"Thanks, dweeb."
​
"Anytime. Although..."
​
Fang freezes, for a moment, before she pulls back far enough to look her husband in the eyes with a very concerned look on her face."
​
"Although what?"
​
"You actually lost the bet."
​
A few seconds pass before Fang can figure out what Anon is talking about. When she finally does, the tension evaporates, and she can't help but laugh.
​
"Yeah. I guess I did."
​
Resting her head on Anon's shoulder, Fang sighs, "Why do you care so much about that outfit anyway? You see me naked every day. Isn't that even better?"
​
A minor emergency involving pasta leaking later, Anon manages to compose himself enough to actually give an answer. Who knew something like that could happen even after several years of marriage.
​
"It's the first thing I saw you in, making it special. It's hard to put into words."
​
"Alright, fine..."
​
Wrapped in a winged cocoon courtesy of his ptero wife, Anon can't help but recall the time at Moe's when he was first introduced to the wonder that is wing hugs. The nuzzling makes the scene extra authentic.
​
"You have to admit, you do look great in it."
​
"I already said I'll do it. No need to butter me up more."
​
"And just imagine how hard you could kick someone's ass with those boots."
​
"Oh my god."
​
No matter what, such moments between the two are always over too soon. As hard as it is to let go of each other, duty calls. The couple slowly pulls apart, despite neither really wanting to. Anon can't help but feel naked outside of his wife's winged embrace.
​
"I'm gonna start getting dinner ready."
​
"And I'm gonna check on Amber before she uses a wall for a canvas. Again."
​
At least she uses crayons instead of permanent markers. Small miracles and all. Before they've fully separated, Fang pauses for a moment. She's still holding Anon's hands in hers.
​
"Oh, and Anon?"
​
"Yeah?"
​
"I love you."
​
"I love you too."