It had taken Newt a good ten minutes to climb the curtains, and another five to sidle across the curtain rail.  He teetered there, surveying the room, occasionally spreading his wings, and then losing the courage.  Finally, he stretched his wings wide, the skin becoming almost translucent, before launching himself into the air.
 
In myth, dragons rode the air currents, perhaps aided by the thermals from burning castles.  With thunderous downbeats of their mighty wings, they soared to the very heavens.
 
Newt wasn’t mythical.  He wasn’t even that aerodynamic.  For every foot he progressed horizontally, he lost six vertically.  By chance, he landed on the closest horizontal surface.  By bad luck, that happened to be the bald head of Lucy’s father.
 
He screamed and swiped a hand at his head.  Newt tumbled forward onto his chest.  Lucy dived forward and scooped her pet up in both hands as her father leapt to his feet.
 
“Every time!  Every single time!  Why does the little – “  he glanced at his daughter.  “The little, um, tinker aim for me?”
 
“He doesn’t.”  Lucy held Newt close to her neck, where it nuzzled the hollow of her collar bone.  “It’s just you always sit by the curtains, that’s all.  You could sit somewhere else.”
 
“It’s my chair!  My chair!  I’m not going to move just because your abomination can’t keep its balance.  Why does it climb up there anyway?”
 
“It likes to fly.”  She stroked Newt.  “Don’t you?  You like to fly.”
 
“Fly?  A brick can fly better than that stupid lizard.  I’ve told you before, keep it in your room or by God I’ll wring its neck.”
 
“Henry!”  Lucy’s mother looked over her spectacles.
 
“Just - just keep the useless thing under control, that’s all.”  Henry sat back down in his chair.  “Useless freak.”
 
“He’s not useless!”  She lifted Newt onto her shoulder, where he buried himself in her hair.  “He eats insects and bugs.  You don’t complain in the summer when we’re mosquito-free.  Besides, he’s a school project.  You can’t get rid of him.”
 
“Two years ago it was a school project.”  He snapped his newspaper open.  “Two years ago!  And you got a B.”
 
“It was my first genetic engineering project.  I got an A+ last term!”
 
“Lucy, dear.”  Her mother shook her head.  “Your father just wants five minutes with his paper.”
 
“But he doesn’t have to be so nasty about it.”
 
Her father looked over her paper.  “You want me to be nasty?”
 
“The pair of you!  Stop it!”
 
“Fine.”  Lucy took a deep breath.  “I’m going out for a ride.”
 
“Drop by Harrisons, then.  We need some milk.  Oh, and see if he has any fresh tomatoes.”
 
Lucy heaved a sigh that nearly turned her inside-out.  “Fine.”
 
Harrisons was three miles away, five if she went via the hill.  That was at least a mile downhill from the peak.  She spun on her heel and flounced out of the room before either of her parents could see her grin.  Newt started chirruping as soon as she picked up her helmet, running from shoulder to shoulder across the back of her neck.
 
“All right, all right,” she laughed.  She held her finger out and Newt leapt onto it.  She transferred him onto the handlebars of her bike, where he ran back and forth, wings spread for balance.  She donned her cycling kit and hauled the pack onto her back.  She pulled open the door to the garage and wheeled her bike onto the driveway.
 
“Just you hold on, okay?  No messing around till we get onto the highway.”
 
She mounted the bike and started pedalling.  Newt chirruped like a cricket with a bad conscience all the way, his head yo-yoing between the open road and Lucy.
 
They hit the highway.  Newt extended his wings, but Lucy couldn’t get the speed high enough yet.  Then she turned off and started the slog up the hill.  Newt folded his wings and complained every inch of the way.  Finally Lucy reached the peak and the pedalling suddenly became easier.  She picked up speed.  Newt mewled ecstatically and leant into the wind, his neck extended.  Then he opened his wings, his claws clamped to the handlebars.
 
And for the next few minutes, together they flew.