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Xana's face fell and he scuffed the toe of his right shoe in the rubber shavings. "No. Meme's not a princess an' Sonya an' Maddie an' Alouette an' Lyssy an' Sam an' Sable are too far away."

Courage lay down on the shavings and covered her face with her paws as if to hide a feline smile. You know an awful lot of princesses, don't you?

Ignoring her, Xana looked up suddenly. "We could ask my mommy to be a princess," he offered.

"Well, yeah." Xana scratched the back of his head, setting his brown hair in a messy tumble as he thought. "Oblivion looks like a dragon," he offered, "except I wouldn't wanna fight her. She's yours, y'know? We could pretend there's a dragon an' the bad guy is off..." He trailed off as he tried to remember what bad guys did in stories.

To get the minster, Courage supplied helpfully. The villians always seem to want to marry the princess and become king.

"To get the minister?" Xana repeated dubiously. "But Mommy's... Nah, okay. Or magic potion stuff?"

"Oh." Quixana wrinkled his nose as he considered his friend's suggestion. Then he looked in the direction of his mother. She was reading some sort of paperback romance. Feeling his eyes on her, Cressida looked up and smiled sweetly. Then she blew both boys kisses. Quixana blushed and laughed. "You think a dragon'd want something more than my Mommy?" he asked, clearly unsure.

Courage rumbled in approval and then bumped Quixana with her head. Shall I be your mighty steed? she asked. I don't know if I could carry you and Walter both, though.

"We don't need a steed, I don't think, but thank you." Quixana rubbed his daemon's head roughly and glanced at Walter as if for confirmation. "I think we want to sneak up on the dragon and trick it with, um, metal."

"Oh, dear." In a manner designed to flatter Walter's flair for the dramatic, Cressida immediately dropped her book and clasped her hands together, holding them against her chest. Then she fluttered thick, dark eyelashes over startling violet eyes. "Whatever should I do?" she asked rhetorically. "I'm helpless under the canny wiles of Lord Walter!"

Xana watched for a moment and then nodded, pleased that his mother was so quick on the uptake. Beaming, he turned to Courage. "Okay. Now we've got to figure out how to rescue her. Um... Do you have metal?"

Courage looked at him in a manner that could only be translated as Are you kidding me?

"I can imagine she would." Cressida peered down at the daemon as she moved her hands away from her chest. "Even if she doesn't rust, she's not exactly built for swimming." Then she leaned back against the bench and draped a bare arm over the upright back, head tilting at Walter. "And I would take you swimming, sure, but we can't leave my hero and his steed, can we? On the other hand..." Her free hand snaked into her purse and drew out a bag of over-sized chocolate chip cookies; the edges were decidedly charred but they still looked quite edible. "Cookies, my captor?"

Over on the playground, Quixana was busily turning his pockets inside out as he searched for something. As his hand set his chainmail to jingling, he paused and looked at Courage. She shook her head. You will not feed your clothing to Oblivion, Quixana. I forbid it. It would upset Mother.

"I know, I know." He sighed. Then he brightened and pointed at a large metal drum. "There. Let's look there. Walter says you can always find stuff in the garbage."

"I haven't been a princess in a very long time," Cressida giggled as she chose her own cookie and nibbled delicately. "So why did you capture me, Sir Walter? Is it ransom? I'm sure Leon could come up with a treasure that's worth your time."

Bracing his hands against the metal drum, Quixana pushed hard. It rocked slightly and he stepped back with a frown. "It's heavy," he muttered. Courage tilted her head and padded forward before reaching out with her own paw as if to guage the truth of his words. She nodded. "We'll have to push together."