title: why don't you get things started
fandom: Guardian
words: ~600 words
contents: no spoilers, Dixing powers can do anything, total crack

summary: Zhao Yunlan resigns himself to the ridiculousness of the situation.


Zhao Yunlan rolls onto his side, groaning.

The Dixingren he was chasing had hit him with some kind of blast, knocking him completely off the jogging path and down this leaf-littered hill. At least they hadn't stuck around to finish him off; that would've been embarrassing.

"Boss!"

Lin Jing flails his way down the hill like a herd of buffalo, and Zhao Yunlan feels a sharp stab of pain behind his eyes at the noise. He must've hit his head. That would explain why he feels so woozy and uncoordinated...

"Boss?" Lin Jing's face is suddenly too close.

"Ai!" Zhao Yunlan scrabbles backwards in surprise -- or tries to. He doesn't get as far as he expects. His hands feel strange, like he's wearing thick gloves in the dirt, and his feet are... tiny.

Though they're entirely in proportion to his legs, which are also... tiny.

"Boss? Can you say something?" Lin Jing demands, voice quavering. He's crouched over Zhao Yunlan with a flashlight, attempting to shine it in his eyes.

"Put that stupid thing away." Zhao Yunlan pushes it away with his... yes, very tiny hand. It takes him a minute to scramble to his feet, and he almost falls right back over. But he catches himself on Lin Jing's shoulder -- because he's only a little taller than a toddler now, apparently. He'd barely reach the other man's thigh if Lin Jing were standing up.

Hell. He's never going to be able to drive home like this, is he? Even if he could see over the dash, all of his joints are... weirdly floppy. Zhao Yunlan pokes his own wrist, and his hand flaps like a bird's wing.

"How is this my life?" Lin Jing moans under his breath, clearly on the edge of a total meltdown.

Can't have that.

"What are you complaining about?" Zhao Yunlan takes a deep breath and begins dusting himself off from the leaf-litter clinging to his clothes. "You're not the one who's been turned into a muppet!"

When Lin Jing keeps blubbering, Zhao Yunlan tsks impatiently and pulls out his phone to call actual competent backup... but his phone is now a tiny stuffed rectangle with brightly-colored felt icons.

"Huh." Zhao Yunlan feels a hint of panic creeping around the edges of his thoughts and determinedly pushes it back. He's been wanting a new phone, hasn't he?

Instead, he grabs Lin Jing's from his pocket and calls Da Qing.

"Yah, grab Lao Chu and head north from the park -- our guy got away, and we need to track him down. Oh, and send Zhu Hong up here. I can't drive, and Lin Jing's being useless."

"What happened?" Da Qing asks, barely sounding worried at all.

"Is this the gratitude I get for facing danger without you?" he says, fully intending to wind the cat up and avoid the question as long as possible --

-- but Lin Jing chooses that moment to make actual words, the jerk. "He's a muppet."

"What?"

"Nothing. Don't mind him." Zhao Yunlan kicks Lin Jing, but it's considerably less effective than usual.

"Boss is a muppet!"

Zhao Yunlan hangs up on Da Qing's startled laughter, and sighs, long and loud.

Then he spins on his (tiny, cloth) heel to point a stern (tiny, cloth) finger at Lin Jing. "If I find a photo of me on any device, anywhere in the world, you will never see your bonus again."

At least his voice is still suitably menacing, from the way Lin Jing swallows audibly and nods. "Got it, Boss."

Zhao Yunlan thinks about the long trek back to the parking lot, and resigns himself to the ridiculousness of the situation. "Good. Let's go."