Countdown
an excerpt

"Fire one!" A small wad of dirt hit Simon on his forehead. "Direct hit! Good show, Suli, good show!" The voice was small and if Simon had to ascribe a quality, he would have said it was tinkly.

"Fire two!" Another wad of dirt hit Simon above his right eye. "A little high that time. Reset and go again, shall we?" The third wad was a direct hit on the bridge of his nose. He had been moving the entire time after the first bit of dirt hit him, searching for whatever had launched the projectiles. Whoever was aiming the machine was talented, he had to admit. Finally he located the offenders. Two fairies were on a branch of a low limbed tree not too far away.

"What is your problem?" he found himself asking as he got closer. "Why are you flinging dirt at me?!" They stood their ground, flanking their machine that looked like a pile of haphazardly arranged sticks.

"We were just trying to get your attention." It was the one wearing a pair of stiletto converse shoes.

"And we figured we'd take the opportunity to try out the targeting function of our new trebuchet." The second speaker was as curvy as a couple of apples, and was wearing chaps and a cowboy hat. "Two birds with one cherry pit, you know?"

"Okay, you have my attention. What do you want?"

"I think he forgot the memo, Suli."

"I think he is trying to forget the boxes."

"H'mmm, you may be right on that one. He does have a vaguely guilty look about him." The cowboy hatted one gave him the once over. It directed its comments to him directly, instead of its comrade. "You're not the only one who knows about the data. So ignoring it won't make it go away. Sorry." But the fairy didn't look sorry at all. In fact, it looked like it was enjoying Simon's discomfiture.

He wanted badly to ask how the fairies knew about the boxes. But that would be admitting guilt. So he settled for, "Are you following me around?"

"Weeeell, yes, if you must know." This time it was the one in the stilettos. "But we don't watch you all the time."

"And we don't watch while you take a shower," chimed in its partner.

Simon's eyes opened wide. He hadn't even considered that.

"Good job, idiot."

"Shut up."

"You shut up."

"Both of you stop it. Why are you following me?" Simon couldn't believe that he was out in the cold, shivering, and dealing with two winged beings who seemed remarkably immature. Was it their small size? Was it the wings?