Catherine the Great

by Scarheart

First published 9th of April, 2016

A six-year-old girl becomes the queen of a changeling hive! Too bad her parents are against this... (May contain musical numbers!)

Follow Speaker and his changeling brothers and sisters who, after the events of Canterlot, took it upon themselves to find a new queen. They found a portal in a deep cave and went through it, questionable circumstances aside. Now they find themselves in a world full of humans, and with a new queen!

Meet Catherine and her family as they cope with a gaggle of shape-shifting creatures who really do just want to fit in and be loved.

The problem is, Catherine's parents are not very keen on their daughter chosen to be the new Queen of the Changelings.

And the cat has gone missing.

Warning:

Some chapters will have musical numbers in them!

The story that inspired the two short stories that lead up to this one!

FimFic Authors are In Your Bed by Admiral Biscuit

Which two stories, you ask?

Link to Estee's short story is here.

Link to my short story is here.

1. They Came from Beneath the Bed

Father looked at Mother. Mother looked at Catherine. Catherine was holding something dark and questionable on her lap. The room was abuzz with an alien nervousness. Father had awakened on the couch, his head propped on the armrest and a throw pillow. A blanket had been draped over his prone form. Mother had scooted the ottoman over next to her husband. Her hand held his and she hovered as nervous eyes flit from her daughter to the thing on the child’s lap. Of course, there were the other things in the living room she really hoped did not exist. Father fainted again. It was overwhelming for the poor fellow.

Yet, they did exist. Not fifteen minutes ago, they had showed up in her daughter’s bedroom. All of them were roughly the size of collies. All of them were black, with bug like shells and fluorescent compound eyes that swirled and could somehow focus. Gossamer wings like those of a dragonfly buzzed and flit, stirring the air in the room and keeping the flow constant. Mother noted how each one sported a little horn from the center of their head. Notched ears swiveled this way or that. The woman also noted each creature had holes in their legs. They varied in size and went all the way through their legs. She could not help but stare at those holes, fascinated, yet put off by how adorable the creatures were. Even their fangs just made them cute, like oversized naked mole rats. Gross, yet oddly adorable.

Catherine sat in her father’s overstuffed chair, clinging to one of the bug creatures. She was still in her pink pajamas. She had the sleepy look of a child who had been up all night with a great deal of excitement to spur her on. Thankfully, it was Saturday. This meant no school.

One of the things was currently being cuddled by Catherine. It identified itself as Speaker, and had made a rather unusual proclamation. It was one Mother had yet to come to grips with as she found herself wanting a cigarette. She had quit years ago when she discovered she was pregnant with Catherine and had not looked back since. Well, until now.

As much as she wanted to scream and panic, perhaps even faint, she could not. Her husband had done that the moment he hit the light switch and saw his daughter’s room filled with the black bug creatures. Their fanged smiles were terrifying. Some of the others tried hard to be adorable, but had instead, in her mind, managed to appear to be in dire need of a laxative. It was a disturbing image for her.

Windows had been cracked open and there were two pairs of eyes staring out every one in the house. The first rays of dawn were beginning to reveal the neat rows of houses on Maple Street. Several cars could be heard starting outside as some of the neighbors were off to work early. It was early spring and the leaves were just beginning to bud on some of the trees.

The creatures at the windows watched in silent fascination, chirping at each other in low tones. It was a new world to them.

Fear gnawed at Mother as she stroked her husband’s hand. She gave him one more worried glance before focusing her attention on Speaker. “So,” she began, struggling to find the words.

“So,” agreed the bug creature. He wore an expression she supposed was bliss. One blink, two, a third; each slow and deliberate as his own thoughts needed to be collected. “I am sure you have noticed things about my brothers and sisters.”

A light chittering of agreement sounded, mindful of the inert form on the couch.

Sher found a cup of tea offered from her right, held within a strange soft and barely noticeable light. “Tea? It’s chamomile,” offered another creature. It seemed to have a feminine voice, but it was difficult to be sure. Mother noted there seemed to be a buzz in their voices, as if a second was layered upon the first. “It’ll calm your nerves.”

She accepted her own tea cup, scrounged from her own kitchen. They had been exploring the house ever since they had emerged from beneath the bed. Some had found refuge from the crowded floor by simply clinging to the ceiling. Mother stared at those who had found the corner of the ceiling a nice place to cozy within. They stared back with expressionless gazes. It was mildly disturbing.

“Thank you,” she managed, her hands trembling. Surely they were destroying everything in the house. Her kitchen, recently remodeled, possibly reduced to shambles.

“We respect your house,” the creature told her, flicking a notched ear. They all had notched ears. The notches, Mother noted, were not all in the same place, like the holes in their legs. “You are afraid, correct? Please, do not be afraid. We would never harm the family of our Queen.”

Speaker cleared his throat. “Mother abandoned us. She abandoned us so she could chase a selfish dream of conquest. We found this portal. We did not want to do harm to others. Mother was angry with us for not supporting her. We came through the portal. We feared Mother more than we feared the unknown. We love Mother, but she can be violent when she is upset. We could not bear seeing Mother upset, but we could also no longer accept her neglect. We left the hive. We broke our bonds with Mother. We need a new Queen or we will not survive. We need love or our minds will slowly devolve to plain oatmeal mush. Noling likes oatmeal mush.”

Mother blinked. She inhaled deeply, then sipped nervously from her cup. “What do you call yourselves?” Mentally, she wondered when they would stop with the charade and begin devouring everyone.

Catherine was petting his neck, the little girl smiling tiredly. She fought to stay awake. Her eyelids were heavy. “Is Daddy going to be okay, Speaker?” she asked.

“It’s a promise. Wesley is watching over him,” assured Speaker. To Mother, he replied, “We are called changelings. Our kind have lived in the shadows, imitating other species and feeding off of their emotions.” His face scrunched up in mild annoyance. “Wesley, please don’t stare at him like that.”

Mother looked up. One of the changelings was attached to the ceiling, his head dangling as he stared intensely at her husband. “He hasn’t moved yet,” observed the observer.

Speaker assumed a wan smile of apology. “He takes his role rather seriously, I’m afraid.”

“He’s silly!” yawned Catherine. She giggled and hugged Speaker again.

“He’s creepy,” Mother said with a shudder. “Does he have to stare like that?” Her hands still shook as she tried to have more tea.

“Wesley, less creepiness,” commanded Speaker, trying to look authoritative. A six-year-old human girl was hugging the stuffing out of him. It felt nice to be loved unconditionally and without reservation. The new Queen was growing on him, as well as the others.

Mother noted the envious grins on the faces of the other changelings. A happy group sigh filled the air. Was it all a charade? Were they serious? They did help bring Frank from Catherine’s room to the couch. It took three of them, but they were gentle. She noted how they seemed to hang one every action and expression on her daughter’s face.

“We are the Changelings Who Say Ni!” piped up a squeaky male voice behind her.

“Shh!” shushed the others.

“You are still confused,” Speaker noted. “This is understa—urk!” He was glomped by Catherine, who was giggling again. “Understandable!” He had to pry her off while still managing to look somewhat respectable.

Mother sighed. She was afraid. Oh, so afraid! Still, these...changelings seemed nice and fawned over her daughter. They were respectful. None of the furniture was broken, contrary to her previous fears. There had been not one sound of something breaking over the buzzing of wings, clicking mandibles, and curious hissing. What was with the hissing? It would be adorable, if adorable was creepy and unsettling.

“My house. You will ruin my house.”

“We will not ruin your house. We respect the home of our Queen, as it is now our own.”

Mother did a spit take. “What? You are not staying here!”

Speaker’s ears flattened against his skull. He rubbed one leg against the other as Catherine glared at her mother from his side. “Mommy! They’re staying!” she proclaimed.

“We’ll take out the trash!” Cried out one changeling.

“We’ll do the dishes!”

“We’ll dust the furniture!”

“We’ll clean out the garage!”

“We’ll burp your Tupperware!”

“We’ll clean the toilet!”

All eyes darted to the last changeling to make a suggestion. All hooves pointed to Frank. “That’s what he’s here for!” The changeling was cowed into submission by the others and nodded sagely at their collective wisdom.

“You won’t even know we’re here,” assured Speaker as he cast a holed hoof over the throng of changelings filling every nook and cranny of the house. “We can literally live on love, so you don’t have to shop for food for us.”

Mother was shaking her head. “No.”

“We can change form, if our appearance is also a concern. We are less dangerous than pit bulls.”

“Or savage squirrels,” added another changeling helpfully. Mother sensed the changeling was female as a hoof was offered. She introduced herself. “Hi. I’m Angela. I’m a Virgo.”

Hesitating, the woman took the hoof gingerly with her hand. Did she just grasp it? Would it feel slimy? It didn’t look slimy. Thankfully, upon contact, her fears proved to be unfounded. “Beatrice.”

“You are concerned about many things.”

“That goes without saying,” laughed Beatrice nervously. “I have monsters in my house!”

“But we’re adorable monsters!” insisted Speaker. “We’re even making up names for ourselves as we go along because Mother assigned us numbers and letters for organizational purposes. There were too many changelings; not enough time to name us all.”

“She has a library of baby name books!” Called out an unnamed changeling.

Speaker added, “She used them all at some point, giving up on Swahili names. After around egg number one million, she more or less threw in the towel when it came to giving us names.”

“There are one million of you?”

“Not at the moment, no. Mother has laid over a million eggs, but that has been over a span of a couple of thousand years. Each of us drones only live sixty to eighty years and Mother lays eggs to maintain a certain population number. It’s over a million. She just stopped naming us after she started running out of names to give. It was becoming frustrating for her. That and diaper bills.” Speaker laughed weakly. “Mother was both brilliant and stupid. We love her and will always love her, but she’s a lovaholic.”

“Too much Cadence.”

Angela turned to the unnamed changeling who spoke. “Kevin, you dummy! She was drunk on Shining Armor’s love for the Princess of Love.”

Kevin shrugged. “Same difference. We’re here. Mother is a bed. Mother turned herself into a bed to escape responsibility! She does not speak to us. We did what we had to to get the love we need to stay civilized. I don’t want to drool in my own stupidity.”

“I get the feeling there’s a story behind this,” Beatrice said.

“It’s a terrible story, filled with plot holes, bad innuendoes, and other things that don’t make sense.” Speaker sniffed. “But, we wrote a song about it! Want to hear it?”

“Not really—”

“Here it goes!” Angela took in a deep breath and sang out:

“A song really isn’t necessary…” Beatrice wondered where the music was coming from as the changeling scrambled to take positions. They were warming up, jostling each other, shushing each other and clearing their changeling throats. Speaker sat up straight and proud, and sang:

‘Where have I heard this melody before?’ Beatrice blinked. Catherine was moving her head from side to side as she absorbed herself into the song. Angela went next:

Speaker filled in smoothly even as Catherine hugged him again. She refused to let him go.

His voice faded and Angela filled in smoothly.

A sense of sadness fell over the room. The music faded and Frank stirred. The man groggily sat up. Whispers surrounded him as the changelings backed away from him. Except Wesley. Wesley assumed a wide grin and wagged his tail happily.

“Daddy!” Cried Catherine happily. She slid down from her seat and went to her father. She crawled into his lap as he sat up, a hand to his head as he groaned.

“What happened?” He asked, looking to his wife. “I had the strangest dream. We went into Cathy’s room and saw...saw...saw?” Drifting from wife to surroundings, his eyes grew wider and wider. “I heard music,” he went on, not comprehending there were unusual guests in his house. His arms went around his daughter protectively. Frank craned his neck over one shoulder, then the other as he blinked, uncomprehending.

“Do not adjust the center of your screen,” said Speaker in a monotone. “We control the horizontal. We control the vertical. There is nothing wrong with what you are seeing. We are real. We serve your daughter. Your daughter is our queen.”

“Ni!” cried a couple of changelings.

“Shh!” shushed a couple of more.

Frank fainted again.

Beatrice would have loved to join her husband on the couch. This whole thing was absurd! And where had that music come from? It was as if a horrible children’s show had spilled out and into her home!

“So,” Catherine chirped happily, bouncing on her unconscious father’s lap. “Can I keep them? Is it alright if I become their queen! I promise, I’ll be a good queen!”

Beatrice patted her daughter on the head. “No, honey. You can’t.”

The changelings gasped.

“But, we can change!” Speaker exclaimed over his own sputtering.

Angela groaned. Wesley simply grinned creepily at Frank. Several changelings facehooved. “We have simply started negotiations,” the female changeling reasoned. “First of all, we will listen to the terms of the mother of our Queen.”

“Get out,” Beatrice said sternly, pointing at the door.

The female changeling stared at her. She then nodded slowly. “Starting at the bottom. Good. We can work our way up from that.”

“Mommy, you can’t throw them out! They’ll be lonely!” declared Catherine with a pout. “They’ll die!” Tears formed, brimmed, threatening to come out.

“We can negotiate terms amicable to all, I’m sure,” assuaged Speaker. He wore his best and most diplomatic smile. “I promise we will make it worth your while! There is little we can’t do! We are magical creatures! We can be anything we want to be. Literally.”

Beatrice was overwhelmed.

“Please, Mommy?” Catherine looked at her father.

“I don’t think it’s a very good idea,” said the woman. “They’re illegal aliens…”

“We technically don’t exist, so we really can’t be considered illegal aliens. Undocumented, sure, but illegal?” Angela blinked and shrugged. Her wings buzzed in irritation.

Author's Notes:

Inspired by this horrid little short story!

I tried to edit this myself. Please feel free to point out any tpyos.

Enjoy!

Revised 04/11/2016

Tip Jar!

2. Frankly being Frank

Frank awoke to the sounds of buzzing. His memory was fuzzy, filled with nightmarish images of dark figures with glowing eyes and sharp fangs. Recalling the disturbance in his daughter’s room was the easy part. Opening the door and flipping the light switch and seeing monsters had ended in darkness. A hiccup of consciousness was another bad dream. Glowing eyes and smiling fangs. He shuddered and wondered if he should cut back on drinking. Or was his stomach telling him to lay off on the starches?

The man groaned, rolling on his side as he became aware of his surroundings. He was laying on the couch. Frank could not remember how he came to find himself on the sofa. It was a comfortable thing. The cushions were broken in just right and the armrests were padded to allow for a lazy afternoon of watching sports with a bowl of popcorn on his stomach. Yet, he kept his eyes shut as he allowed his mind to adjust to where he was. His mental logic processes went back, trying to piece together the series of events which had placed him in the living room.

There was a buzzing sound. The four year military veteran and independent contractor for carpentry regarded the sound, wondering if someone was using some sort of newer model electric saw. His eyes flew open as an image of his daughter playing in his power tools came to mind. He found Beatrice sitting in her chair next to him, her hand in his. Instinct told him to sit up, but his wife pressed a hand firmly down on his chest. Her blue eyes met his greens and she heaved a sigh of relief.

She gave his hand a squeeze. “You’re awake!”

Bleary eyed, he asked, “What happened?”

“You fainted, honey.” Her eyes flicked up and around nervously before settling back on him. The buzzing stopped abruptly and the room seemed to grow still.

“Fainted?”

“Are you okay, Daddy?” Frank could hear his daughter. “Mommy, is Daddy going to be okay?” She sounded worried. What a sweet little girl!

What happened to make him faint? No matter what he tried to recall, there was nothing but shadows with fangs and...buzzing?

“Frank, please get up and don’t faint again,” his wife pleaded. There was also urgency in her voice. “I’m barely holding it together. There are… monsters in the house.”

Monsters? Frank blinked, unable to comprehend as he wrapped his mind around what was currently going on with his wife’s distress. His recollection slowly undimmed, became brighter. The shadows became more defined in his memory. Slowly, he became aware of something else in the living room. A lot of something elses.

“The sleeper has awakened,” intoned a buzzing voice. Frank thought someone was talking through a microphone with a slight sound distortion in it.

“Wesley, give the poor guy some air.”

There was a sigh. An inhuman sigh and it was above Frank’s head. He turned his head towards the ceiling and saw something dangling from it. It was large, the size of an average dog. It had translucent wings and they flitted restlessly as the owner had glowing solid blue eyes staring down at him, unblinking.

“Don’t you dare faint again, Franklin Benjamin Thomas!”

The man swore even as panic welled up within him. Beatrice had both of her hands on his chest and shoulders, trying to calm him down with a reassuring voice. His legs kicked as he stared in horror at the thing grinning down at him.

“What is that?!” he screamed, pointing a finger at the black winged monster. The monster laid its ears back and jerked its head away from the offending digit.

“I’m a changeling!” it snapped as if scolding a child bereft of common sense. “My name is Wesley!”

“It’s okay, Daddy,” chirped Catherine happily, the corners of her mouth upturned in a wild grin. “I’m his queen!”

“Cathy!” admonished her mother sharply. “You are not the queen of anything, young lady! Your father and I are going to discuss this as soon as he stops panicking.” To her husband, she pleaded, “Please pull yourself together! They’re everywhere and they want our daughter to be their queen!”

“Please, Queen Father, we mean you and your family no harm,” said a new voice filled with concern. “We only wish to be loved and accepted. We are new to your world. We have nowhere else to go. Please, will you not listen to us?”

As the new voice pleaded, Frank’s head whipped towards it. He found his daughter petting a bug... thing. It was a big bug thing. It looked armored and dangerous; a wicked horn growing out of its head. “Cathy, what are you doing with that thing?” If he sounded frightened, it was because he was.

“Petting him, Daddy. Don’t you like Speaker? He’s a nice changeling! They’re all nice changelings!” To show her father just how safe and nice Speaker was, she gave the changeling a hug. The changeling named Speaker squeaked like a rubber ducky.

“Huh?” Frank blinked, shaking his head. “What is going on here? What is all this?” He turned to address the unwanted collective. “Why are you here?”

“Get the hooman some water!”

“Water for the hooman!”

“Agua!”

“Right!”

“Glass? Where are the glasses?”

“Top right cabinet, bottom shelf!”

“Found it!”

There was a yowl, several yelps, a feline hiss of fear and anger, the sound of slamming doors in the kitchen, as well as the clatter of what sounded like silverware upon the floor. A gray and white streak darted briefly in the corner of Frank’s eye. The changelings hopped out of its way or took to the air, hissing at the spitting ball of fur heading for the basement.

“Cat!”

“Kitty!”

“Rat slayer!”

“Meow!”

“I taut I taw a puddy-tat!”

A changeling sneezed somewhere in the group. In the chaos of the family pet streaking through the throng of dog-sized cockroaches, Frank finally began to get the idea his house was full of the things! He sat up, propping himself up on his elbows. Beatrice leaned away from him, allowing him to see every inch of the living room was covered with changelings. They were everywhere, like ladybugs in winter. Every eye seemed to be on him and the man imagined they were holding their collective breath, waiting for him to say or do something. An avalanche of disappointment seemed to hang over them. All he had to do was sneeze.

“Hello Mr. Hooman,” said one of the changelings. It sounded like a female. “My name is Angela. I’m a Virgo. I am sorry our appearance made you faint.” She stood very still and wore a smile that did not reveal her fangs. “We will get you some water. I’m sorry if it’s a little crowded, but there are forty-seven of us in your house. We can’t go outside because we don’t know how your world will react to us.”

“Okay,” the man said dully, his voice a monotone. “Okay...” He could feel his brain still trying to understand and make sense of everything. This day was starting out weird.

“Reggie, do you have that water for Mr. Hooman?”

A glass floated in the air and hovered in front of his face. Frank cried out and shied away from it.

Angela tilted her head towards Beatrice. “Mrs. Hooman, you married a wussy.”

Unafraid, Catherine let go of the changeling she had been holding and slid off the overstuffed chair. Boldly, she seized the floating glass, completely unafraid. “It’s just magic, Daddy. It can’t hurt you! I’m the queen and they can’t hurt you because I’m the queen!”

“We will do no harm to the parents of our chosen queen,” chanted the entirety of the buggy body.

Gingerly, Frank took the glass of water. He warily glared over the throng. “What is it? Are you guys sharing the same brain or something?”

“What do you mean?” Speaker blinked his eyes quickly. Frank mentally noted how large those eyes were. They were cute-ish. “We are brothers and sisters. We are telepathically linked. It is a part of the magic we share. It is through our familial bonds we are linked. I don’t know what it’s like for you humans. The air of this world is very alien to us. Your magic is different.”

“Magic? What magic?”

“We are creatures of magic,” Speaker said. “The magic…” The other changelings nodded in agreement. One of them had to have his head restrained as he bobbed uncontrollably like a bobblehead. A chirp went out. It sounded like some form of thanks. “Charles, contain yourself!”

Frank gulped down his water, some of it dribbling down his chin and onto his chest and lap. His eyes were round saucers. None of this was real, it couldn’t be! He had to be hallucinating. It was college all over again! “Magic isn’t real.”

“Whatever,” dismissed Speaker, as if he had just been insulted. “We came here to find our queen. We traveled from our world to yours because we want to be loved. Mother made it so love would be very difficult in the future for us to get. Us changelings need love. Mother was once our queen. Our queen became greedy. Angela has already explained to your mate. We sang our abbreviated tale. We faced the Pink Bubble of Doom!”

“It tasted like victory!” chirped one of the changelings.

“I dunno, tasted kinda like cinnamon tarts.”

“It was victory for those fleabag ponies!”

“Rupert! Calm yourself! Did you take your medicine?”

“All I need is love!”

“All together now!”

The changelings all chorused, “All we need is love, love! Love is all we need!”

“Oh, God, the Beatles are real!” moaned Frank sullenly. “Which one of you is John?” His wife loved the Beatles.

One holy hoof shot in the air. “Me!” cried out a female changeling. “My name is Jon!”

“I’m going to learn all of your names,” announced Catherine as she stood up on the couch. “Because I am your queen!”

The changelings gave out a cheer. It was an odd, buzzy cheer, complete with stomping hooves from those on the floor.

Frank glared at his wife. “This is your fault.”

Beatrice flinched, her mouth hanging open. “What do you mean this is my fau–Catherine, get your feet off of the couch! You know better, young lady!” She was grabbing for her daughter as she re-addressed her husband. “Again, how is this my fault?”

“The whole princess thing. You encouraged her she could be a princess!” He snorted, throwing his arms in the air. “Look where that got us!” Frank gesticulated wildly at the changelings, who had gone oddly quiet.

“We don’t like princesses,” said Speaker, who was ignored by the parents as they glared at each other. “My queen!” he turned to Catherine, pleading. “Please, say it ain’t so! You can’t become a princess! We need a queen! You must be our queen! We just want to be loved, don’t you see? Please, love us! We need you to love us! We are pitiful without love!”

“Just like Liza Minnelli,” proclaimed Reggie. He plucked the empty glass from Frank’s hand unnoticed. He was on his way to refill it.

The growing argument between husband and wife abruptly died a rather sudden death. “How do you know who Liza Minnelli is?” asked Beatrice in confusion.

“The Enquirer,” said the changelings in one confident voice.

“Inquiring minds want to know!” declared a changeling.

Another replied loudly and proudly, “I want to know!”

“Mother was a lifetime subscriber,” said Speaker, waving off the unrelenting looks of confusion. “But enough about this. We need to discuss crowning Catherine to be our queen. We need the Queen Mother and the Queen Father to be in agreement with this. We will do whatever you need us to do!”

“Except toilets!” cried a voice in the crowd. There was a buzzing of muttered agreement.

“Yes. No toilets. And unlike Discord, we do clean windows!” Angela lifted her head proudly.

“I’m so lost,” muttered Frank. He slumped into the couch. “My life is over. If this is real, then there is no way we can escape scrutiny. We’ll have to go into hiding. We’ll have to move to Canada. Canadians are nice. They’ll take us in.” Helplessly he regarded the changelings, who all had fallen silent again and were staring at him.

“This is why we want to sit down and talk,” soothed Speaker, daring to draw himself closer to the large human. He imagined he was large as the man was easily twice as tall as the changeling. Probably twice as heavy, too. “We have chosen Catherine to be our queen. For us, it is a matter of survival. This is how we must stay alive.”

Again, the changelings broke into a chorus. “Stayin’ alive!” one started.

“Ah-ah-ah-ah, stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive!” the others finished.

Angela raised her voice, “Silence you nincompoops!”

Reggie returned with the refilled glass. It had a tiny umbrella in it, as well as a wedge of lime. “Gin and tonic, anyhooman?” he asked politely.

“Anyone,” corrected Speaker absently.

“Anypony.”

“Anyone.”

“Anyling.”

“Anyone!”

“Anybirdy!” Reggie snarled. Both changelings by now were forehead to forehead, their horns crossed and their snoots pressed firmly into each other.

“And then they kissed,” mused Angela before giggling. Catherine began to giggle as well. Reggie and Speaker broke away from each other, hurling icy daggers at their sister.

“Can I keep them? Pleeeeease?” begged Catherine, assuming the needy pout. The changelings noted their chosen queen’s choice of facial expressions and emulated it.

It was the creepiest, cutest thing either man or woman had ever seen.

Author's Notes:

Thank you guys so much for the love you have given this story!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EKiqthx0GKw

Special thanks to Kudzuhaiku for making me laugh at some of his ridiculous suggestions, some of which will find a home in this story as it progresses!

Revised 4/11/2016

Remember kids, if all someone needs is love, why not just give it?