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Heckler's Secret	By : LeonardMarsupial Category: +G through L > Lilo and Stitch Views: 4677 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own Lilo and Stitch. In addition, I own neither Lilo, nor Stitch, nor do I own anyone, or thing, appearing in this story. I make nothing off of this work of fiction.

Chapter List
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They walked a couple of yards before they arrived at the bench. A flickering streetlamp cast anemic light from across the pavement. Heckler didn't mind the lack of lighting — better to hide his ruddy cheeks. "Can we sit here?" Heckler pointed to the metal seats, glimmering in the weak light with their fresh coats of paint.
"Hmm, normally I wouldn't pick one so…well-loved. But — and I should've told you earlier — I'm pretty sure this is actually one of the benches that one of our cousins recently rebuilt. So I think it'll be fine." Slick sighed contentedly as he rested his bum on the painted metal.
Heckler stayed standing, right on the edge of the streetlamp's reach. "Okay, now that we found our spot, I don't suppose you can help me out with my problems?" he nearly whispered, afraid that even in the dead of night, someone might hear.
"No problem," Slick answered while locking eyes with Heckler. "But first, come sit with me, chap." He patted the empty spot on the bench next to him. Heckler took a seat in it, his feet only inches off the ground, and began twiddling his claws almost immediately. Slick pointed out the nervous tic, and Heckler sat on his hands.
They talked for a while about nothing in particular — Heckler needed time to rally his courage. Past the streetlamp's paltry light, and the pale moonbeams, Heckler could see how full of stars the sky was. He sensed the light breeze sweeping through the park, rustling each hair on his face. They both looked toward the playground, and watched an empty swing sway with the breeze. And heard it groan with each movement.
The swing's squeaky hinges drove Heckler nuts. His mind perceived the threat, and he was preparing a volley of insults when he found Slick gazing intently at the swing. Ebony eyes followed the chain as it swished through the air, catching and reflecting the occasional moonbeam. Heckler, through sheer force of will, kept his insults to himself. The wind eventually died down.
"So what did ya really want to talk about?" Slick finally inquired.
Heckler buried his blushing cheeks under his paws. "Well, I was kind of hoping that — y'know, you, uh, could give me some advice."
Heckler knew he had confused his friend. Slick tipped his bowler hat and scratched the fur underneath. "Advice? Whad'ya mean? Advice about what?" Slick's hands flung around in his typically dramatic gesticulation.
"About…someone….I've had…feelings…for?" Heckler selected his words carefully. "If that's okay with you, of course."
If Slick were still confused, Heckler couldn't tell. The salesman's smile lit up more brightly than the streetlamp and the moon. "Ah, some advice on aloha, I see."
Heckler furrowed his brow. "Aloha?" He had heard the girl use that word plenty of times, but never to talk about something like this. "Is your brain going soft? That means hello!"
Slick seemed to let the jab flow off him, and he sat and chuckled. "Ah, aloha means quite a few different things. One of those things is love."
"Ah." Heckler didn't want to show it, but he was terribly impressed with Slick's knowledge.
"Yep, you learn a few things when you walk the island, doing what I do. So anyway, who's this girl you have feelings for?" he teased with an elbow.
'Well…' Heckler's head hemmed. He knew it wasn't about a female experiment, but he certainly couldn't let that slip to Slick just yet. He needed an answer, and he needed it to be a girl. Off the cuff, he spat out, "Belle!"
"Belle?" Slick tapped his corner of his mouth with a thoughtful claw. "But, you can't be with her, she's with Yaarp."
"Uh—no, no! They broke up a month ago, remember?" Fortunately, Heckler's recollection of town gossip was spot-on.
"Oh yeah, I recall that moment. She broke up with him because Yaarp was always too busy to spend time with her. Oh, and when she told Yaarp, he wouldn't come out of his room for days. Just completely devastated."
"Yeah, just like me," Heckler involuntarily blurted out. Luckily, he had kept it to a low whisper.
"I'm sorry…what?" A few silent moments passed while Slick waited for a reply.
"Uh, nothing! Just…yeah." Heckler hoped the smile would look real enough in the dark.
Slick seemed to buy it. "Hmm, still, even if she's available, you ought to tread carefully, Heckler. Sounds like you should keep it hush-hush. Ku'u ipo huna — yeah, that's what you should go with."
For a few key seconds of the conversation, Heckler had been distracted by a strangely alluring glint in Slick's ebony eyes. The moonlight far above trickled through the tree branches, over the fronds, and mixed with the streetlamp's glow, all of which pooled in those ebony orbs. The glint traveled whenever Slick gesticulated to make his point, forcing Heckler to delightedly chase after it. It took a few absentminded blinks before Heckler could stammer something out. "…ku-ah-what now?"
Slick's laugh sent a pleasant little shiver racing down Heckler's spine. "No-no, ku'u ipo huna. It means 'my secret love.' It's a term of endearment. When you don't want anyone to know who it is, or what's going on, this is to keep it a secret. Learned this one from some odd old woman in town, can't think of her right offhand…."
'Ku'u ipo huna…' Heckler's mind repeated after Slick. The words flowed naturally. 'I'm used to keeping a secret.' Heckler reclined as Slick continued.
Their conversation rolled on, with Slick giving Heckler several tips on how win over their female counterparts. Heckler gave his best effort to pay attention, only getting distracted by the ebony eyes a few times. Slick mentioned a couple of his own concerns — what they were, Heckler couldn't say. But by the end, both guys were comforting each other and were patching each other up. Heckler was relieved to discover that Slick understood his problems, and would help him through thick and thin — even after an undeserved insult or two. The moon crawled a few degrees in the sky before they got up from the bench and roamed around the park. Some more pleasantries, and then they mutually agreed to call it a night.
"And don't worry, I'll always be here." Slick sounded so assuring. He put his arm around Heckler and pulled him close for a friendly hug.
"Thanks, Slick." Heckler smiled a genuine smile. They were quiet for some time. The wind picked up. The swing squeaked loudly. And they busted out laughing. They were two friends, forgetting their problems, even for just a short while.
After the giggles diminished, Slick readjusted his bowler hat. "Well it's late, Kumu and Yaarp are probably worried sick with wondering where I am." He chuckled. "I remember the last time I came home late, Kumu almost called the cops, and they had already rounded up half a search party."
"Hah! Oh wow, that is awesome. Then don't let me stop you from getting going. Don't want a full search party this time." Slick laughed again, and Heckler's spine tingled again. "Yes, I suppose…though before we do that, how 'bout giving your ol' pal Slick one last hug, yeah?" Slick opened his arms wide. Heckler affixed his own smile as he ran up and gave Slick a huge bear hug. Slick's large arms were tighter than he had imagined.
"Can't—breathe—" Heckler squealed. Slick laughed and let him go, and both smiled more brightly than the streetlamp and the moon. As they waved goodbye and headed toward opposite ends of the street, Heckler thought he heard the swing squeak, despite the wind having died down, and he definitely thought a shadow had shifted when he looked back.
But once he looked back, Heckler only saw Slick as he rounded the corner of some one-story building. His heart had stopped when Slick waved goodbye at him, and Heckler hoped to restart it with the right words. He imagined running down Slick and delivering those words. Unfortunately, they never manifested. Heckler stood frozen at the corner of his street for a long while, wondering when those words would finally appear, and what would happen when they did.
Heckler's legs did start working, and after a lengthy walk, he finally arrived home to his townhouse, absolutely exhausted from the day's physical, mental, and emotional toils.
"I messed up," he mumbled as a warrior coming home defeated. "Guess I'll probably tell him the truth when I'm ready."
His preparations for bed were filled with thoughts on their conversation at the park. He replayed every foible, every faux pas. Each insult he had let slip stung his tongue as they came back into his mind. He was not entirely sure how he would fix them — or if they could even be fixed at all. Heckler slapped his forehead and just barely stifled his groan.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid me!" was all he could utter before he delivered a swift kick to his bedroom door. "Yow!" he hollered in pain, jumping up and down while nursing his right foot.
He had no one but himself to blame — he recognized that truth. But his deep regret wouldn't hinder his affection for Slick. Had he acted sooner, he realized, this whole mess could have been avoided. 'You wouldn't need to be ku'u ipo huna anymore.'
Regret did pass during his bedtime preparations. His heart beat stronger, more resolved, as he crossed his room, hobbling a bit on a wounded right foot. "Well, you know what they say: If at first you don't succeed, try, try, try again," Heckler reassured himself before he clambered into his bed.
Under the covers, he grew increasingly confident that the chubby salesman was the one he was looking for. 'Sure, I have some other options,' Heckler thought as he ran through a list of the other male experiments. They each had something special to bring, but none of them were as special as Slick. As Heckler tossed and turned, he tried to narrow down what exactly drove him wild about Slick. 'That southern accent…something no one else could possibly emulate.' Heckler was sure it had to be more complicated than that, but under the covers, with sleep approaching, he figured the accent alone was enough for him to separate Slick from the rest of their trog brethren.
His head huddled on top of the pillow, sleep did catch up to him. "I'll find a way, eventually," he murmured. "I will, ku'u ipo huna."
TO BE CONTINUED
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- 3
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Heckler's Secret