Take a Shot (Seddie One-shots)

The Meeting

She swung high, as high as she could. Her blonde hair flowing in the cool breeze as she closed her eyes and pretended she was flying.

She knew one day she would.

He was sitting, alone with his mother. Playing in the sand next to her bench as she cautiously watched over him, fixing his hair every so often, repeating over and over that he was her little man.

Her mother wasn't watching her. She was on the other side of the park, buying ice-cream with her father, and smiling as she did so. She opened her bright blue eyes and looked over, she knew those smiles were fake.

His father hadn't been there. Away he was, fighting in the war, fighting for their country. He smiled proudly as he played with the pin his father had given him, brown eyes looking up at his mother, he begged her to play on the swing set. With worried eyes at the girl who flied free, she nodded her head at the brunette little boy and he ran toward the swings, a grin on his face.

She didn't even notice the boy standing before her. Her eyes shut tight, her hands gripping the iron ropes that held the swing set together, she leaned back, to make it look like she was lying down, and she imagined taking flight, feeling the sun hit her skin, the birds flying beside her, the wind blowing back her long blonde curls. She smiled.

He stared at her, his brown eyes filled with admiration, and fear for her safety. His mother never let him swing like that. He stared at her as she swung by every-so-often. The sun kissing her face, making it light up, her eyes shut tight, not a single care in the world, her pink lips, curled up into the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. He continued to stare as she swung back and forth, and he thought about the dangers of her falling. He couldn't help it, and timidly, He called out to her to get her attention

She heard it straight away, and her eyes flew open. She looked down at the boy, watching her as she swung. She sat up, and set her feet down as she passed the sand again, stopping the swings with all her might. She looked at him, surprised someone would speak to her on this playground. The boys ignored her, as did the girls. She spoke rarely, only to bully her way into getting her favorite swing, an ice-cream cone or a chocolate bar. 'The Playground bully' she had been labeled. A look of question lay on her face as she stared at him, and asked him in a flat tone what he wanted from her.

Blue. They were beautiful. Magnificent, enticing, spectacular. He couldn't look away, and he couldn't imagine anyone else in the world ever wanting to. Her flat tone surprised him, but he wasn't turned off by her one bit. He shook his head, and began to explain to her that she had been going rather high, too high, that it wasn't safe. She shook her head at him and told him safety wasn't exactly her thing. He told her she would fall and break an arm, and she smirked, and told him that the ground wasn't brave enough to ever hurt her.

She was baffled someone worried about her falling. The thought of falling being a possibility had completely slipped her mind. She didn't have anyone checking up on her 24/7, telling her 'Don't climb that tree, you'll fall!' or 'Don't play over there, you'll get hurt.' She didn't have anyone who cared for any wounds she eventually got, her parents didn't know how. She'd learnt to take care of her own cuts, and she did so very well. It isn't that she thought her parents didn't care about her, she knew they did... It was just that they had a different style of parenting, they wanted her to be free. Maybe being too free wasn't good for her, but she didn't see it that way. She doubted she ever would.

He took the swing next to her, and asked why she was going so high anyway. She looked up at the sky, and told him one day she wanted to fly. He shook his head, and told her that flying had been impossible, she looked back over to him, and told him without missing a beat, that the only thing that was impossible was impossibility. He shook his head at her again, and told her that her motto wasn't correct. He told her she would never be able to fly, and that it was safer on the ground anyway. She looked closely at him, her bright blue eyes staring into his brown ones, and with a guff sounding voice, she asked what he wanted to do. He told her he wanted to produce movies, like Galaxy Wars, he wanted to film them, edit them and when people went to see them everyone would know his name. He told her he didn't think that would happen, that it would take a lot to be able to do that. She rolled her eyes at him. She told him that he'd always miss 100% of the shots he didn't take. And with that, he thought about what she had said, and wondered if maybe she had been right. He noticed she didn't look very happy as she stared at the two arguing people across the park, and he immediately dug around in his pocket for the granola bar his mother had given him. He offered her a piece and she scoffed, saying she could do better. She took a 'Snickers' bar from her pocket, and said he could have half, he shook his head, saying he wasn't allowed to eat chocolate. The girl rolled her eyes, broke off a piece and handed it to him, reminding him that he'd miss all the shots he didn't take. And with a worried look at his mother, and then one at her, he nodded, took the piece of chocolate, and bit off a small piece, immediately enjoying it and savoring that little bite.

She bit her half as well, and watched him eat possibly his first bite of chocolate. She smirked, satisfied that he enjoyed it and she was right yet again. She couldn't believe she had done that. She NEVER shared food, no matter the situation. And yet, she watched a brown haired, brown eyed stranger devour half of it (The smaller half of course, just because she shared, doesn't mean she had to be fair). She looked over at him, not a lick of chocolate on his face. She was sure the dark deliciousness covered every inch of her face, and in that moment, she didn't care. She pushed the wrapper into her pocket, and then pushed his shoulder. She asked him if he wanted to try with her, if he wanted to pretend to fly. He shook his hed, like she knew he would, and said that he couldn't, he knew he would fall. She rolled her eyes, and told him to take a chance, and to stop being such a nub. He glared at her, ending up looking more like a puppy, and stated that he wasn't a nub. She told him that if he wasn't a nub, he would start swinging, and fly. He gazed warily at her, and started to swing. She smirked with satisfaction, and started to swing as well. Higher and higher they went, and with each swing, she let out a laugh, happily in the air.

His stomach felt queasy. He had never swung this high before, and as the ground became further away, he became more and more terrified. And then, he looked at her. A laugh escaping her lips each time she went higher, a smile on her face the size of Texas, one that was rare and he was sure to never see again, blonde hair blowing through the breeze and her eyes closed, his look softened, and the terrified look he once wore changed into something of enjoyment, she must've felt someone watching her, and she turned and gave him a grin. He couldn't help but notice that a smile looked good on her. It made him smile back, knowing that this smile was for him, and only him. He captured that moment in his mind and a few feet away, he noticed a blonde lady with a camera and an ice-cream cone capture that moment as well. She took the photo and then walked way, stuffing the camera into a backpack. Believing it was the girl's mother, he completely ignored it, and continued to smile at the girl. She closed her eyes again and he closed his, and as he was about to lay back, he toppled off of the swing, and landed smack on the ground with a 'Poof'. The blonde girl quickly jumped off the swing, and landed on her feet. She helped him off the ground, and he looked down, disappointed that he had fallen. He began to say I told you so, he knew he would fall, he knew it was stupid. The girl shook her head, with a slight laugh escaping her peach lips, and punched his arm playfully. She told him that was just one shot that missed, that if he didn't keep on shooting, he'd just miss 'em all. She told him he did good, even for a nub. At that, he looked up at her and cracked a smile. His mother came over quickly. She started to fuss over him, dust off his clothes, pick specks of sand out of his hair. She asked if he could see how many fingers she was holding up. He almost completely ignored her and stared at the blonde girl, who had started to turn and walk away. But before she could, she leaned over and put something in his pocket, and she softly whispered in his ear her name.

"I'm Sam."

"Freddie."

And with that, she walked away.

Later on in the day, when Freddie was at home, up in his bedroom, he dug around in his pocket for what she- Sam- had given him. He pulled out a crumpled up 'Snickers' wrapper, and looked at it. He didn't understand at first, but then he got it, and he smiled as he placed the wrapper under his bed to hide it from his mother.

The first time he rebelled, the first time he took a shot, he would always remember. And as he lay down in his bed, for an afternoon nap, he dreamed about being the producer of many movies to come, and Sam being at his side through it all.