Page 1 of Saving Little Lina: Part Two

Chapter 1: Lina

I CRAWLED INTO THE BUSTLING PLAYROOM for Littles at the club, my heart lifting at the sight of Elijah and Mike rummaging through a box of new toys. They were deep in a playful argument over a Superman toy, each presenting their case with the seriousness only Littles could muster.

"But I should get it because I can fly just like Superman!" Elijah was saying, flapping his arms like wings.

"And I deserve it because I'm the bravest!" Mike countered, puffing out his chest.

"Hey, why don't we take turns with Superman?" I suggested, crawling closer. "I can even make a toy timetable!"

Their argument ceased as they turned to me, their expressions shifting from frustration to intrigue. I quickly grabbed a colorful piece of paper and some crayons, doodling a schedule with little Superman figures marking each turn.

"Look, you both get equal playtime!" I announced, presenting my makeshift timetable.

Their faces lit up at the idea, and the toy dispute was forgotten in an instant. As they hugged me, Mike exclaimed, "Lina! I haven't seen you in forever!"

Mike then launched into one of his dramatic monologues. "The cruelty of time has kept us apart, like two stars in different galaxies," he lamented, his hand dramatically over his heart.

"And yet, here we are, reunited in our Little haven," he continued, gazing off into the distance.

I giggled, interrupting his theatrics. "Mike, we see each other at the office every weekday."

He shrugged, grinning. "Oh? Maybe not galaxies apart then. I take it back."

Elijah joined in, nudging me playfully. "So, you've finally made the big move, huh? Living with your Daddy now?"

Mike added with a wink, "It was the obvious next step. Tell us everything!"

I felt a pang at their words. "I wish it were under different circumstances, you know. I don’t know if Mike has told you this, Elijah. My deranged ex, Finn, was stalking me at my apartment. He tried to attack me wearing a creepy mask and holding a knife. He managed to escape. Moving in with Daddy felt safer."

“Yeah, Mike told me,” Elijah said. “You poor thing.”

Mike immediately puffed up, adopting a protective stance. "Well, if that Finn shows up, he'll have to answer to me! I'll guard the door, armed with my plushie sword and my shield of courage!" he declared, brandishing an imaginary sword.

"And my shield of tickles," he added, wiggling his fingers in the air. "No one messes with our Lina!"

His exaggeration made me laugh, dispelling the lingering tension. "Thanks, Mike. I feel safer already."

As Mike's eyes sparkled with mischief, he prepared to launch into a tale that was sure to be as exaggerated as it was entertaining. "You think Finn is trouble?" he started, dramatically lowering his voice as if about to reveal state secrets. Elijah and I leaned in closer, already smiling at the anticipation of one of Mike's famous stories.

Mike stood up, his hands animated, his face an open book of exaggerated expressions. "There I was, just your average Little, when I hear a cry for help." He widened his eyes for effect, looking from side to side as if checking for eavesdroppers. "Mrs. Henderson, my dear old neighbor, was being pestered by this self-appointed neighborhood watch guy."

"And what did you do, Mike?" I asked, my voice laced with laughter.

Mike began to crawl around us, moving in exaggeratedly stealthy motions. "I knew it was time for action. Time to unleash Secret Agent Mike!"

Elijah snorted with laughter. "Oh, this I have to hear."

Mike continued, his hands gesturing wildly. "I donned the most ludicrous disguise. Picture this: a mustache so fake it looked like a caterpillar, sunglasses at night – very incognito – and a hat so enormous, I was practically blind!" He mimicked holding a floppy hat over his eyes and a mustache drooping off his face, his movements sending us into fits of giggles.

"Every time I tried to follow the guy, my mustache would take a dive, and I'd be fumbling to stick it back on," he added, pretending to slap a mustache back onto his face repeatedly.

I imagined Mike in his little agent attire, complete with a comically oversized hat and a droopy mustache, trying to be inconspicuous. "Did you ever catch him?" I asked, giggling.

"Catch him? I could barely see him!" Mike exclaimed, feigning exasperation. "But, my dear Littles, I learned an important lesson. Sometimes, the best protection is just being there, mustache or no mustache."

As Mike's story came to a close, he flopped down next to us, all three of us giggling uncontrollably.

Mike let out a dramatic sigh. "Living with a Daddy isn't all fun and games, you know. It comes with its own set of challenges."

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