“Last night was a long one, huh?” Melinda fiddled with the dial on the microwave and gave the top a couple thumps.

 

“Yeah, even if I did sleep good after you came in,” Miles yawned as he took a drink of his orange juice.

 

“No more nightmares?” Melinda asked absentmindedly as she stared at the uncooked bacon in the microwave and whacked it’s side once again.

 

“I started to have one, but I calmed down and fell back asleep when I woke and up saw you. That’s when I wound up with my arm around you,” Miles began to stare curiously at his mother.

 

“That’s good, I’m glad I could I help you calm down,” Melinda sighed, “Say, this was never my thing, how much have you taught yourself about kitchen appliances?”

 

“Uh, mom, how old is that thing?” Miles asked curiously.

 

“I think I bought in the 1970s, why?” Melinda asked

 

“Don’t ya think we might need a new one?” Miles took another drink.

 

“Uh maybe, I guess it’s possible it’s just worn out-”

 

As if on cue, the microwave interjected with his own input by spewing sparks and enveloping itself in a cloud of smoke that soon set off the smoke detector.

 

Without hesitation Melinda quickly yanked the plug out of the wall and glanced around before shouting to Miles, who had jumped down from his chair, “Fire extinguisher is in the cupboard under the sink!”

 

“Right, hold on,” Miles scrambled to the sink and threw open the doors, quickly pulling out the small extinguisher and tossing it to his mother.

 

Melinda quickly pulled the pin, aimed the sprayer, and squeezed the handle to soak the microwave and everything within roughly eight feet of it in white residue.

 

“So, who’s up for cereal?” Melinda grinned at Miles as she tossed the canister over her shoulder, knocking the detector off the wall and silencing it.

 

Miles merely put his head in his hands and groaned, “This going to one of those days, isn’t it?”

 

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“You know mom, I think you eat more sugar than I do,” Miles laughed as he watched his mother pour copious amounts of sugar over a bowl of fruit loops.

 

“I’m pretty sure sugar and coffee are the two greatest discoveries in culinary history, and
sugary snack cereal is a close third,” Melinda shoveled a spoonful in her mouth.

 

“I’d say that much might be bad for you, but you are literally immortal and even if you weren’t you have the body and metabolism of like a 19 year old girl,” MIles took a bite of his own cereal, “Which is weird because you’re like 1000 years older than Uncle Kai, but he looks a lot older than you.”

 

“It’s the white hair, it makes i look like he’s gone grey,” Melinda said “White hair on the men was kind of common in his pack.”

 

“Is that why people mistake him for your dad?” Miles asked

 

“Yeah, but I don’t complain because it makes a good cover story when we need it,” Melinda stuffed another spoonful in her mouth

 

“So I call him Uncle Kai because that’s the way I always knew him, but some people think he’s my grandpa, BUT in reality he’s really closer to my brother because you sort of raised him?” Miles blinked a couple times and took another bite of cereal.

 

“You know, what semblance we have a family tree would be the most hilarious thing on the planet now that I think about it,” Melinda picked up her bowl and quickly gulped down the now sugar laced milk.

 

“I’m surprised you haven’t ever used coffee on your cereal,” Miles laughed, “but that would be silly.”

 

“You’d need Sonic’s help to catch me once THAT kicked in,” Melinda chuckled.

 

"That’d be the weirdest mission briefing ever,” Miles laughed.

 

Melinda soon joined in and took a minute to catch her breath and wait for him to catch his before speaking up.

 

“You know, the public thinks I’m dead and so do some people that know us personally,” she said.

 

“Yeah, but I’m sure we’ll figure something out to keep things going smooth,” Miles said.

 

“I know, but that’s not what I was getting at,” Melinda looked up, “You know we’re going to have put on a little show to keep things under-wraps?

 

“You mean a funeral, don’t you?” Miles looked down, “I was hoping we’d avoid that.”

 

“It’s not like it’s real or anything, we’ll come home afterward and get on with our lives just like any other day.” Melinda smiled.

 

“It’s still not going to be easy, though. It was bad enough trying to play along the day it happened,”

 

“I know, honey, but you won’t be dealing with it alone this time.” Melinda reached out and put her hand on his.

 

“How? It’s not like you can show up at your own funeral,” Miles said.

 

“No, but your Auntie Melissa can,” she smiled and winked at him, “After all, it’s mah job to be there for mah poor nephew”

 

“Oh God, mom,” Miles laughed

 

“Ah miss mah poor sister so much, but ah’m sure she’s up thar smilin’ down on us,” Melinda feigned wiping a tear from her eye before grinning at Miles.

 

“I think you make that accent sound as ridiculous as you can on purpose,” Miles took a deep breath, “explains why you’ve been dressing like a country singer, though.”

 

“You know, you’re not the first person I’ve gotten that from?” Melinda laughed, “but seriously, everything is going to fine and we can make it liking planning a party.”

 

“I guess, I’m still nervous, though.” Miles quieted down once again.

 

“We can just spend lots of time together to alleviate the stress, Melinda stared at the coffee pot, deep in thought.

 

“Oh God, you’re really considering it, aren’t you?” Miles asked.

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,”

 

“The thing with the coffee and cereal,” Miles said

 

“It would be for science?” Melinda gave Miles a nervous smile.

 

“Mom, you know I love ya but you can weird sometimes,” Miles chuckled.

 

“It comes with living almost 1200 years in the body of a 19 year old,”

 

“That number still sounds weird when you say it out loud,” Miles chuckled, “like I said last night, I sometimes forget how old you really are.”

 

“Hell, I’M not sure exactly how old I am so don’t feel bad,” Melinda giggled, “all I know is that I was raised by a poor farmer in the early ninth century somewhere around where Glenfinnan is now, which is in the country now called Scotland”

 

“I’m guess telling time was hard back then?” Miles asked.

 

“For poor peasants out on farms, yes,” Melinda smirked, “Considering Kai is wolf-pack and born into a tribal setting, he’s lucky he can name off his exact birth and first death dates so easy.”

 

“Can you estimate when you born? You seem to know you were around 19 when it happened.” Miles finished drinking the milk from his bowl.

 

“I know that because I think the seasons had gone by around that many times, but I don’t know numbers because it’s foggy how many years passed before I learned to read around the dawn of the 10th century, I had to have been pushing 70 at that point, if not older.”

 

“Maybe we can find some old records or something someday,” Miles smiled, “It’s weird you never had a mentor that knew, though.”

 

“I wandered around like a moron for a few years before I found another immortal and she helped me,” Melinda sighed, “I had a bad first century or so.”

 

“Sounds like it,” Miles scratched his head, “weird how we never talked about this before, as many stories as you’ve told me.”

 

“I thought it would be boring and you never asked, and it has only been around three years you’ve known,” Melinda said, “Now that I think about it though, you might’ve enjoyed hearing about your newly immortal mom bumbling around Europe like a nincompoop with her only remaining friend for several years until she found her first mentor.”

 

“When you put it that way,” Miles stifled a laugh.

 

“Hey, we still do story time every once in awhile, right? maybe since you’re so stressed we can have one tonight and I can tell some of those stories,” Melinda leaned back in her chair.

 

“Yeah,” Miles looked down for a moment and took a deep breath, “hey, I have something for you.”

 

Melinda watched curiously as Miles jumped down and ran towards the back of the house. The sound of the back door opening eventually clued her in on where he was going, which she assumed was the garage where he had a small work area for smaller projects.

 

The door finally opened once again after several minutes and Miles ran back in inside carrying a small box roughly a two inches square and ten inches long.

 

“Here,” Miles handed it to her.

 

“Thanks,”

 

Melinda opened the box and pulled out an object comparable to the handle of a Katana minus the hilt, and turned it over in her hands, “Is this what I think it is?”

 

“Yeah, I couldn’t find a way to duplicate a basket-hilted broadsword and have it compact so I had to go with this,” Miles rubbed his head, “it makes sense now why lightsabers are always made kind of like Japanese swords”

 

“It feels nice, I like how you put this blue wrapping on it,” Melinda turned it away from both of them pressed a button, but nothing happened aside from a small pair of guards popping up.

 

“Other one, I had no idea if a guard like that would do any good but I added it anyway,” Miles said.

 

With a single press of the other button, a bright blue blade made of some form of plasma shot out with a hum and reached a length of just under two and half feet long, Melinda blinked and stared at the blade as she rested one cheek in her free hand.

 

“Something wrong?” Miles asked with a worried expression.

 

“I’m holding a literal lightsaber, aren’t I?” Melinda asked?

 

“I guess you could call it that.” Miles answered.

 

“Cool,” Melinda shut off the weapon before fiddling with a clip dangling off the back.

 

“For your belt or whatever,” Miles smiled, “So you can always have if a fight with Eggman’s robots breaks out, and that switch underneath the buttons is a safety”

 

Melinda flicked the switch and clipped it to her belt before getting out of her chair and crouching next to Miles, “Thanks, I can’t wait to see the look on his face when I trash some myself next time.

 

“No problem,” Miles wrapped his arms around her.

 

“Love ya, kiddo,” Melinda hugged him back and held him tight.
“You to, Mom.” MIles replied