10Summary: A post-"Starry Hunters" drabble set in a summer evening. Scar's alive. (Yay!)
Disclaimer: I do not own the Alien franchise, the Predator franchise, the Alien(s) versus Predator franchise, any of the movies, or any of the characters, including the all-too-awesome Scar & Lex, and if I did own my own Yautja or Xenomorph, I wouldn't have to deal with nearly half the bull$#!^ that I do now!
The dark woman leaned back to recline in her outdoor chair with a lazy sigh, bare neck and shoulders glistening under the summer twilight with a light film of sweat, brought on from the scorching air wrapping around her like ethereal ribbons and making her thin cotton clothing cling to her skin.
Normally around this time of year she wouldn't be here. She would be off and away to some faraway land, scaling icefalls or trekking tundra, someplace frosty and blissfully cool... But she wasn't, and her reason why was standing between seven to eight feet tall some yards away, thoroughly liking the summer air blowing in that was now rattling his beringed dreadlocks.
He loved the heat, or so she gathered from how he behaved around heating vents and from moments such as these
All the dandelions had turned from the sunshine-yellow flowers of spring into puffy heads of white with the summer. Lex carefully grabbed one and turned to the predator, holding it up for him to see. "Make a wish," she said, and gently blew the white puff into a billow of dozens of tiny, smaller puffs, buffeting about on the gust of her breath in a cloud around the alien warrior, who stood with his head cocked to the side, trilling low, not understanding.
Lex gave a smile of amusement at his state of perplexedness and explained, "It's a human superstition that I learned when I was a child. When you pick a dandelion, you make a wish, blow the seeds away from the stem, and if you blow them all away," she held up the now-naked stem, devoid of any puffs, "your wish comes true." She tossed the stem over her left shoulder to fall soundlessly behind her. The alien hunter rumbled softly, marveling not for the first time at the quaintness of oomans and their strange, silly ways.
After a while the woman spoke again, softly, asking him, "What would you wish for?" Scar tilted his head again, considering, but ultimately just rapped his knuckles on her head, making her smile, before he gently brushed his thumb over the stylized T mark on her smooth cheek.