Page 51 of Prize for the Alien Grumpus

"Kevin!" A woman in designer boots waves us over. "So nice to finally meet Mel's boyfriend."

My image inducer better hold up to close inspection. I force my face into what I hope passes for a friendly human smile. "Pleasure's mine."

"This is Mrs. Miller, Kristi's mom," Mel says through clenched teeth.

Ah. The Snow Princess's mother. I resist the urge to bare my fangs.

"Such a lovely pageant," I manage. "All the children are equally important to its success."

Mel's hand finds mine and squeezes. A silent thank you for playing nice.

More parents cluster around us. I endure their small talk, their probing questions about my job and background. I stick to the cover story Mel and I practiced. Investment consultant. Recently moved from Europe. Yes, the accent is Norwegian.

"You two make such a cute couple," Mrs. Harrington gushes. "Will you be joining us for the PTA bake sale next week?"

I open my mouth to decline, but catch sight of Mel's hopeful expression.

"Wouldn't miss it," I say.

The auditorium lights dim. Parents shuffle and whisper, settling into their seats. My enhanced vision picks up every detail - the crude cardboard scenery, the plastic snowflakes dangling from fishing line, the nervous energy radiating from behind the curtain.

Mel sits beside me, clutching her phone ready to record. The stage lights come up, and tinny music pipes through ancient speakers. A parade of small humans dressed as various winter objects prances across the stage.

Then Sam appears. She glides across the stage in perfect formation with the other snowflakes, her costume catching the light just so. My warrior's instincts catalog every potential threat, every exit, every weakness in the building's security. But I can't help stealing glances at Mel.

Her face glows. Tears sparkle in her eyes, but her smile could outshine a supernova. She radiates pure joy, pure love, pure pride in her offspring's achievement. I've seen the birth of stars, witnessed the death of galaxies, but nothing compares to the beauty of this moment.

My chest aches. Three hundred years of existence, and I never knew it was possible to feel this way. To want to protect, to cherish, to... love. The word no longer feels foreign in my mind.

Mel's hand finds mine in the darkness. Her fingers intertwine with mine, so small and delicate against my massive paw. Yet in this simple gesture, I feel more strength than in any battle I've ever fought.

I would tear apart armies for this woman. I would challenge the gods themselves. I would give up everything I am, everything I was, just to keep her smiling like this.

Sam twirls with the other snowflakes, and Mel squeezes my hand tighter. In this moment, I know with absolute certainty - this is where I belong. This is my purpose. Not conquest, not destruction, but this. Protecting this precious thing we've found.

"Let's celebrate!" Sam bounces in the back seat. "Can we go to Chuck E. Cheese's?"

"That's the place with the mechanical vermin, right?" I adjust my image inducer. "Sounds... charming."

Mel shoots me a warning look. "Best behavior."

The restaurant assaults my enhanced senses - flashing lights, screaming children, the reek of processed cheese. But Sam's excitement makes it worth enduring.

Until I spot it. A towering mechanical monster, all teeth and dead eyes. Just like the Reapers that hunted me across the Centauri system.

"Die, abomination!" My disintegrator materializes in my hand.

"Krampus, no-"

Too late. The beam reduces Chuck E.'s backup singer to atoms. Sparks shower the stage as children scream - with delight.

"That was awesome!" Sam claps. "Do it again!"

"No more disintegrating the animatronics." Mel massages her temples. "Or anything else."

"But mom, he made it better! Look, now Chuck E. has to dance alone!"

The staff seem oddly unfazed. Apparently, this happens often enough that they have a standard incident report for "spontaneous animatronic combustion."

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