Of Dictionaries and Space Monkeys: WordGirl Oneshots

Forlorn

A/N: This is a little old too—I wrote it pretty much the second after I first saw Rhyme and Reason when it aired, and just recently edited it! I have no clue why I liked that episode so much; I just did. Still do, actually. XD

I was actually pretty happy with the way this one turned out! Hope you enjoy!

---------

Rain streamed down the window pane, the drizzle softly rattling it in its wooden frames. Priscilla purred contentedly, very nearly asleep. Violet sat in the window seat, gently stroking the cat on her lap in a nearly robotic motion.

So Becky is WordGirl... she thought quietly to herself. Again. She was sure that there must be a way she could phrase it that would make it seem like the normal, everyday truth.

Yet somehow, it didn't seem to work.

She had been Becky's best friend—(Well, she'd thought she had been...)—for years now. A week hadn't gone by in which they hadn't talked and laughed and watched the world pass by.

Yet Becky had always rushed off with something odd to do nearly every day she could remember. Always something peculiar, like to get a new pencil sharpener, or to practice the trombone, or to... plant corn.

It had been warm and sunny this morning, but now rain poured from the sky. That was what corn liked. It made sense that Becky wanted to plant it today, if you reasoned it.

Violet's hand faltered, and she glanced out the window, tears welling in her eyes. Priscilla looked up sleepily, hoping it wasn't the end of being petted. The blonde stroked her again, but more slowly this time.

"Best friends don't keep secrets from each other, right?" she asked herself softly, gaze distant. "That's why they're best friends... they can tell each other anything."

She was a little ashamed to admit she usually daydreamed in Logic. But if anything, she did recall that if A equals B, A is the same as B. When you don't have B, you never had A.

If they were best friends, they wouldn't keep secrets. They kept secrets, therefore, they weren't best friends.

The girl's eyes became watery of their own accord, and she blinked a few times, not trusting herself to think on the subject more without crying.

Blink blink.

The tears went back for now, and to perhaps just the air, Violet poised one last, sorrowful question.

"...I'm not wrong on all this, am I?"

Priscilla only looked content with the attention she was receiving—however shaky it may have been—and gave her no reply.

The blonde girl dipped her head mournfully, and her pet could barely catch her quiet words.

"...That's what I was afraid of."

------

He was packing. He was packing, and that was all that he was doing.

Reason began carefully setting his clothes into the little suitcase he'd toted around with him for years. A stack of his neatly folded clothes sat next to it on the creaky old bed. The place they were staying at was nice, and it was clean, but he guessed nobody'd been in the rooms for ages. Probably not many people stayed at an old hotel with a sign that read VILLAINS WELCOME out front.

It was a nice oddity, for once. They'd slept better in the empty silence than they had in weeks. Not to mention the continental breakfast was really, really good. Rhyme's hot cocoa was inevitably turned to icy chocolate milk, as always. Today, with the addition of frozen marshmallows.