Raymundo's clothes hung loosely on Lucky mimicking Becky's body. He was pacing the living room while they checked out every little bric-à-brac on the shelves and tables.
"I don't believe it." Raymundo muttered to himself.
Lucky picked up a little glass sphere. Clouded green glass bounced light off the nearby wall and ceiling as they spun it around between their fingers.
"I've changed between a human, cat, and my usual Qwortarian form several times now." Lucky turned and faced Raymundo. "If you really can't believe, something must be amiss in your human brain."
He sighed and rubbed his temples. "I was using it more to express my shock, because really... What are the chances!"
"A Qwortarian landed here ages ago and you didn't think another would come?"
"Ages ago being the key words there." He sighed. "Why didn't anyone come sooner?"
"Earth is resource rich, but since the Qwortarian never returned, but had reported sentient life. We have protocols not to interfere, and it was marked as potentially dangerous. Besides, we found closer options for supplies.” They spoke without a pause for breath. Lucky tossed the glass sphere up, catching it in the palm of their hand.
"I don't think that actually helped." Lucky tossed the bric-à-brac at him. Up came his arm and the thing bounced off his wrist. "Ow!" The ball hit the corner of the table and cracked. "Why'd you throw it!" He flung his arms at the ball sitting on the gray carpet.
"To make a point."
"What point?" He put the emphasis on the final 't' when Lucky didn't elaborate.
"Humans still aren't ready to actually meet aliens. No matter what your science fiction says." Lucky crouched and picked up the sphere. "Maybe especially because of what your science fiction says about alien encounters."
"And you had to demonstrate by breaking my..." He frowned. "Glass... Thing." Lucky chuckled.
"Glass is just super heated sand right?" He nodded. Lucky pinched some sand from his rock garden, sprinkling it into the cracks. Then they covered the sphere with their hands.
On an exhale Lucky's hands grew thick plate armor. He held his breath as the air shimmered around their hands. When Lucky opened their cupped hands, Raymundo leaned closer, feeling warmth on his face as he looked down. Where the cracks had formed, there was now white lines, tiny spindles spreading across part of the sphere.
“Touch it.” Lucky said. Ray reached out, running his finger down the glass ball, and while it was still hot, the glass was smooth to the touch. “Now your glass thing will remind you of me.” Lucky dropped the ball in Ray’s hand before shaking their hands back into Becky’s. “Which, as far as I can tell, is the point of random little things in a human’s home.”
He thought the ball would burn, but it wasn’t hot enough for that. “Thanks.”
Lucky strolled to Ray’s bathroom as he looked down at the small glass object, pondering Lucky’s arrival.
Word count: 498