A/N: Let’s switch genres, shall we?

A Sighting

"I should've broken these in," he said with a soft sight, chastising himself. He grudgingly admitted his feet were not adjusting well to the shoes Gretchen had bought him. He thought that his shoe size had a smidgeon to do with it. He wore a twelve. His feet were shoved into a size ten. But Danyl had not the heart to shoot down the miniscule shoes that she had been so excited about buying for him. They made his feet throb. He knew he had only been walking through the shady green of the forest for fifteen minutes. "Suck it up," he murmured semi-encouragingly to himself.

Danyl liked wandering. It was probably his favorite pastime. As an added plus it got him out of the house, because, though he loved Gretchen as much as he could love a foster mother, she was too enthusiastic and chipper for his taste. He liked tasting the humidity hanging in the air, creating a haze of everything, until the scenery looks like smudged canvas. The highway was close enough that he could taste exhaust in the back of his mouth. He frowned. People wouldn’t be happy until the whole world was paved over. The grass grew in clumps where it could bask in sunlight. There were still puddles from the previous night‘s rain, glittering darkly in the starlight. Things felt content, comfortable.

Danyl recognized the area perfectly and walked it at least once a week. He always gravitated towards it, no matter his first intentions. For one reason or another, a quirk of humanity, this area of woods, his area of woods, remained untouched. Danyl thought that maybe the serene looking lake, like a sparkling mirror in the middle of a perfectly circular clearing. He sighed upon seeing it, knowing that Gretchen would throw a fit if he stayed out in the darkness for too long, but his feet did need a rest. He recalled her words of warning with a smile. What if someone stole you, Danyl. You’re an attractive boy. There are some freaks out there.

He heard the stories of local perverts on the get-up-at-the-crack-of-dawn news occasionally. Never had he heard of one who stole eighteen-year-old boys that were abnormally tall, all six feet and ten point seven five inches of them, from woods near the highway. In fact, he never saw anyone come near the hypnotizing lake. “Maybe I imagined this whole place,” he whispered to himself.

Danyl had a bad habit of speaking his thoughts aloud to himself. He was no crazier than the rest of the people he attended school with, but when he was alone he felt the need to fill the silence. Or maybe the years of being his own companion had finally gotten him to the point where he felt the need to fuel a conversation with himself. With a sort of awkward grace, he fell into a crouch before stretching his legs straight in front of him near to the serene, silver pool. A sigh of contentment ripped through him as he flopped his upper body back against the grassy tufts that caught him easily. This was his home.

The stars above twinkled down upon him, like a vast canopy, as if he reached out and leaned forward just a bit his hand would brush up against a handful of stars. His feet throbbed in protest of the shoes. “Sorry, guys,” he mumbled to his feet, glancing at them momentarily before shifting his gaze back to the blanket of shimmering dust above him. Senior year would be rearing its ugly head in less than two weeks. He could stay there, in the comfort of the grass and the quiet, unmoving pool beside him.

It only occurred then, when he focused on the scenery, that there was no noise. The crickets that had sang happily the night before, were not serenading him. Reluctantly he sat up and looked around. His eyes widened painfully. A massive thing was landing directly across the lake from him. He pictured the classic, Day-the-Earth-Stood-Still unidentified flying object in his mind. No. It certainly did not look like that. It looked like it was impossibly made out of stone. Like a meteorite that defied gravity. His heart pounded painfully. It was absurd. What could possibly happen?

“Stay calm,” he whispered fiercely to himself. If there were things in or on the thing that landed he didn’t want to draw their attention by making a hasty, and probably clumsy, getaway or by staring. He laid slowly back on the grass, just as he had been doing, and tried to concentrate on the heavens. It wasn’t working. His pulse was pounding hatefully, making any thought impossible.

“To whom are you talking?” asked a female voice, hesitant but friendly. It sounded like music to Danyl, clear, echoing, like a stream. It made him smile. When a hulking man with a scowl appeared directly above him, towering, the expression disappeared. The man had a very sharp looking sword in his hand. Or at least it looked to him like a sword. That is, until he saw the characters moving furiously. It was a beam of symbols. Danyl felt like he had been swallowed by Star Wars. The huge man above him seemed to be pleased with Danyl’s reaction.

“Rise,” the huge man ordered, nudging Danyl with a boot made of a strange material that also seemed to glow with symbols. “My Pilot addresses you. Answer her, quickly and politely.”

Danyl was a bit perplexed. He was nearly kicked over by the massive man, who was getting impatient as the boy slowly rose to his feet. The woman was the most indescribable thing he had ever witnessed. She was in the pool of silvery water, creating not one ripple, submerged. Her hair shimmered golden, sitting on the surface. Her eyes were a more brilliant silver than the lake itself.

“It is impolite to keep my Pilot waiting for an answer, Earth-walker,” the now-glaring bodyguard type hissed while driving an elbow into Danyl’s stomach. The wind rushed out of him and felt like he couldn’t breathe. He gasped for breath and looked in horror at the man. The woman was curious, but frowning. He hoped he hadn’t offended her.

“Zale,” she reasoned like a songbird, “I am sure that he means me no harm.” The newly christened Zale glared hard at Danyl but stepped away from him, out of hitting range. Her luxurious eyes turned shyly to Danyl, gazing at him from behind pale golden lashes, the color of the fairest wheat. “I apologize if I startled you. I want you to stay calm as well.”

He could feel the confusion showing on his face until it dawned on him that she thought he had been telling her to stay calm. He smiled, a bit frightened still, and assured her. “I’m as calm as someone who has seen an alien can possibly be.”

“A what?” Zale asked, narrowing his eyes. “Do not insult my Pilot, homo sapien.”

“He meant no insult. We are foreign to his planet,” she sang soothingly. Danyl wanted to ask her thousands of questions, simply to hear her reply. “What are you named, man?” she asked. “Wait,” she insisted before she began swimming to his side of the lake. She was very naked,which he saw before he shot his eyes to the ground below. It was suddenly very interesting. Her skin matched the moonlight, white and pale. Zale hissed through his teeth beside Danyl, making him wince.

“Is she repulsive, boy?” he asked, bringing his strange, glowing sword to attention. “Answer.” Zale stepped a yard closer in a footfall, making Danyl wince uncomfortably.

“She’s... exquisite.”

“Zale, the women of Earth are not like the Pilots,” she warned, her musical voice harboring an edge. “I am submerged, man,” she said soothingly and Danyl’s eyes rose to meet hers, despite the burning of his face. He thought that he could see pink in hers, but he was probably imagining that with boyish hope. “You are named?”

“Danyl,” he breathed, wondering if he could try to carry on a conversation.

“Dahn-ul?” she asked, pronouncing it as two words. He smiled.

“Close.” He hesitated. “What’s your name?” He was curious and she was far less frightening than the man who seemed offended by the sense of propriety that had been taught to Danyl since boyhood.

“I am called Pilot.” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She had used ‘pilots,’ plural, before in the sentence. “My name is Orianna. I am glad to see you, Dahn-ul.”

“Pilot Orianna? It’s nice to meet you too.” It was painfully obvious to Danyl that the Earthling-English refresher course was leaving large gaps between the level on which either of them was talking. She smiled brightly, showing beautiful teeth. Zane’s eyes narrowed. “Is it simply Pilot? Do I not call you by your first name?” he asked, not wanting to be reprimanded once more by the gargantuan man.

“You can name me either way, Dahn-ul,” she said with another smile.

“Pilot, you are not to be called by that name unless with family or mate,” Zale hissed. Orianna frowned. It made Danyl want to ask more questions, to pique her curiosity, to turn the corners of her lips upward.

“Why is Zale allowed to be called Zale, then?” he asked her. The silver in her eyes glimmered when she laughed. It was like listening to the most beautiful composition, hearing her laugh. Nomusician could have competed with that laugh.

“Only women are Pilots. And only Pilots are called Pilot until they are bound,” she said, her voice still carrying traces of the wonderfully addictive laugh. “Zale is a man and is my guard. He made sure that I landed my vessel safely.”

Danyl glanced at the so-called vessel. “What is it?” Orianna began to laugh once more and Danyl was sure that he was in love.