Shiro & Sam, Sunday morning

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When Shiro decides that the best way to start flying again is to jump off a building, Sam is there to catch him. Sorry about the yard, Cain.


Enough is enough. Today, after almost two months of being literally grounded, Shiro resolved to reclaim his freedom and his inherent right to soar. Standing on the edge of the flyer's platform, he shut his eyes and concentrated. It had been a sunny day, and he'd also spent some time in the medlab under the special lights designed for solar energy absorbers so that he could soak up as much fuel as possible. There would be no mistakes and no loss of control here.

He could feel the energy of the sun itself burn within him, and he reached in to pull it out. Even behind closed eyes, he could sense his trademark bright golden aura. The coolness of the October evening disappeared, replaced by what was to some a stifling heat, but to Shiro was a welcome reminder of past abilities. He opened his eyes, took a deep breath, and leapt off the platform.

It was a rather panicky voice in his head that told him the ground was coming up too fast and that no, he's not flying and yes, he's about to plummet to his death.

Sam didn't always believe in luck, the evidence of Wanda and Jennie's powers notwithstanding. Some of what others dismissed as good or bad luck, Sam saw as part of a grander plan, God putting a person in the right position at the right time.

This was a perfect example, as he was returning from a relaxing morning flight just at the right time to see Shiro plummet from the flyers' platform.

The lanky Kentuckian gritted his teeth, pulling hard through a corkscrewing turn to come parallel to the mansion's walls and try to match speed by eye with the falling Shiro. Then, he cut his blast field for a split second, just long enough to snatch Shiro under the shoulders, and then cut it back in time to protect them both as they plowed a deep furrow in the ground just inches from the mansion.

~Cain's gonna kill me,~ was Sam's first thought after thanking God that his desperate gambit had worked.

The first thing Shiro expected to see when he opened his eyes was not a panting, red-faced Cannonball on top of him. And he thought he'd feel tenderized after having hit the ground so fast and hard. It took a moment for him to realize that this wasn't Hell (or Heaven) and that he'd just been saved from the consequences of an incredibly stupid action. Again.

"Uh, hello, Mister Guthrie," said Shiro sheepishly. "What brings you out here?"

Sam levered himself up to a standing position and brushed himself off. "You mean aside from savin' your damnfool rear end?" he asked a touch sarcastically. "What in the Sam Hill were ya thinkin'?" he continued.

"It is such a nice day out that I wanted to bungee jump," Shiro replied, his tone darkening. "I forgot the cord." He pulled himself to his feet and cocked his head to one side, cracking his neck. "I was trying to fly again but something was not right."

"Ah'm guessin' it's that whole part where ya went down instead of up," Sam said, a touch less sarcastically and with more sympathy. He could easily imagine how lost he would feel if he suddenly couldn't fly.

"That might be it." Shiro sighed and looked up at the sky. "I have been doing well lately. No accidental fires in almost a week, I can levitate at least three inches off the ground, and the cold is not bothering me anymore. I thought that I had recovered," he added sadly.

"There's better ways of testin' than jumpin' off the side of the mansion an' hopin'," Sam rebuked gently. He knew how touchy the young Japanese man could be, especially on a subject like this.

"But there is no reason I should not have been successful," Shiro maintained, lowering his eyes to the ground. He almost looked embarrassed. "I did everything that I had done when I first learned how to fly; all the visualization and meditative exercises. Why am I not airborne again?" As if Sam would have the answer.

"Ah don't rightly know," Sam admitted honestly. "But the first time ya flew, did ya just launch yourself off a buildin', or did ya do it under more controlled circumstances?"

"I was thirteen," Shiro said wryly. "My cousins would have killed me if I had jumped off a building. I was meditating and when I opened my eyes, I was two feet off the scorched ground."

"Then don't ya think that maybe as you're gettin' more comfortable with your powers again, that maybe startin' on the ground for safety's sake might be smarter?" Sam asked gently, but with a touch of exasperation. "Ah understand your impatience, but Ah'd much rather ya be safe than in the Medlab." Or worse, he thought to himself.

There was no response that wouldn't be taken as rude, Shiro thought, so he just nodded and accepted the rebuke. "I was just so sure of myself," he said again.

"Ah understand," Sam said gently to soften the rebuke. "What say we schedule some time in the Danger Room ta work on it?" he offered. "Ah'm sure we'll get ya back up ta speed in a jiffy."

The proposal brought a shy smile to Shiro's face. "I would like that. A lot. Thank you." It had been over a year since his last formal flying lesson with Haroun, and he'd learned much from him. Having same take him under his figurative wing would be just as good.

The smile brought an answering one to Sam's face. He had worried about Shiro's prickly pride, seeing as he had already been an accomplished flyer. But the solution looked to be a good one for both of them.