Anon-Pico

>You've recently moved into an apartment downtown
>Neighborhood is ok but it's recently gotten worse
>Sold your guns to a friend when you moved for extra cash
>Eventually save up enough money to buy a new gun
>Buy a Beretta Pico, you've always wanted a beretta
>One day you're sitting on your couch, on your phone, not paying attention and suddenely a small hand is pulling on your sleeve
>You turn your head to see a small girl with brown hair looking up at you.
"Signore? I am Pico." The girl says in a thick Italian accent.
>"What the hell are you doing in my apartment? Who are you?"
"I am your gun, signore, don't be scared."
>"What do you mean my gun?" You asked, a bit confused.
"You bought me and brought me home, thank you. Shelves can be quite dusty."
>"What the hell is going on?" you whisper to yourself.
"Watch." As she says that the girl is gone and your Beretta is sitting on the floor.
>You pick it up, rack the slide, eject the magazine and make sure it's not tampered with.
>A minute later you put the gun down. After you blink the same girl is sitting on the table
>You get a closer look at her. She's wearing a blue dress, but no shoes or anything else, it seems.
"See, signore? I'm your gun. Everything is fine." She says in a sweet voice. She extends her hand again.
>You reach out and take it. It's small compared to yours, but she's small in general, so...
"Good, glad we've come to an agreement then." Her smooth voice is only complemented by her accent.
>She hops off of the table and walks away. When you ask her where she's going, she tells you that she's looking around her new home.
>This experience is a total shock, you must be in a dream. You close your eyes and fall asleep
>You wake up later. You open your eyes and the girl is staring right into them.
>She's sitting on your chest, you don't know how you never felt it.
"You're awake! Good. I have a few questions."
>You close your eyes and groan. You should've bought a different gun.
>"Ok Pico, ask away."
"Signore, what is your name? I'd like to know what to call you."
>"Oh, just call me Anon."
"What a strange name. I like it." Pico climbs off your chest. She's so light...
"Anon, do you have any other guns?"
>"No I don't, Pico."
"Anon, will we go to the range soon?"
>"I don't know Pico, I spent a lot of money on you."
"Oh, ok." She seems a little saddened by the news.
>"It's ok Pico, I'll make sure to take you as soon as I can."
Pico nods and smiles. "I walked around your apartment Signore, it is very nice."
>You thank Pico for the compliment. You yawn and stand up, stretching your arms. You slept pretty good.
>You remember that Pico is only wearing a dress, so you leave the living room and enter your bedroom.
>You pull open a dresser and take out a long sleeved shirt and shorts. You give them to Pico, who thanks you.
>You notice she doesn't have anything on her feet, so you rummage around a bit before finding old socks you wore for socker.
>You give those to Pico, and after urging you to turn around, puts the new clothes on, and then says you can turn around.
>It's a disaster. The sleeves are way too long for her, a quarter of it hanging past her hands.
>The shorts fit surprisingly well on her it seems, at least that's one good thing.
>The socks, a good fit for you extend way up to her knees, reaching the hem of her shorts.
>"Pico if you want better clothes just tell me, please."
"No no Signore, I like these very much." She waves her arms around and the sleeves flap as she moves. It looks kinda cute.
>"Well alright then. Listen, Pico, I got stuff to do. You know how to use a TV right?" You ask, unsure about what she knows and doesn't know.
"Of course Signore, I won't bother you anymore." She says, turning around to enter the living room.
>You watch her leave and sit down at your computer, starting your research on whatever she is.
>You turn on your computer, about to get to the bottom of this mystery.
>Some quick searches around the internet, on gun forums and such reveals she's a 'waffengeist'
>You spend upwards of an hour looking on the internet at these things.
>You read a story about a person who had sex with his waffengeist. Lewd.
>A while in you watch a Hickok45 video on how to keep a waffengeist happy.
>You come away from your computer with more knowledge than ever, and feel fully prepared to take care of Pico now.
>You turn off your computer and realize that Pico hasn't made a sound since she left your room.
>Slowly walking into the living room you see Pico sleeping on the couch, curled up almost into a fetal position.
>'Why would a gun need to sleep?' You ask yourself as you walk towards the couch quietly.
>You don't want to disturb Pico so you decide to sit on the coffee table.
>You watch her chest as it rises and falls gently as she breathes.
>You look at the way the curls in her hair fall over her face.
>Watching her makes you feel relaxed, and calm.
>You could stay like this for hours, watching a gun sleep on your couch. It's a weird feeling.
>A few moments later her eyes slowly open, a little dull at first from sleep, but then they brighten when they meet yours.
"Hello Signore Anon, good morning." She says, yawning softly.
>You smile warmly and reach over, running your hand through her soft hair.
"Are we going shooting today?" She asks, closing her eyes again.
>"You were only asleep for an hour or two. Be patient."
"Ok Signore, whatever you say." She rubs her eyes, yawns, and then snuggles up against the couch while you rub her head.
>It's evident that Pico has fallen asleep again, and you remove your hand again and look at it, solemnly.
>Your father always told you that when you hold your first child, it's the most wonderful thing in the world.
>You probably should have listened to him more, cause he was totally right.

>After much pestering and begging you give in, promising her that today you'd bring her to the range.
>Pico can hardly contain herself, she's fidgeting on the couch, which has now basically become her bed.
>You walk into the room, testing the new hip holster you bought when you went to the range on a scouting mission.
"When did you get a holster, Anon?"
>"Yesterday, I went to the range to check around for ammo prices and they managed to sell me a holster.
"It looks very nice on you, do you mind if I..?"
>You nod, and then she's a gun laying on your couch. You pick her up gently and slide her smoothly into the holster.
>You close up your jacket and move around, swinging your arms and stretching to test the fit. Very nice indeed.
>You unzip your jacket and pull out Pico, who appears a little bit after you set her down.
>"How was it? Too tight, too loose? How did it feel?"
"It was fine, Signore, I liked it."
>"Alright good, because we're going to the range in a little bit."
>Pico smiles from ear to ear and giggles, gets up from the table and hugs you tightly.
>You forget how short she is, since she only comes up to your waist on her toes. You pat her gently on the head and break out of her hug.
>A short while later you are in the car, Pico sitting in the seat next to you. You make her put her seat belt on, then you're off.
>During the drive you turn on the radio to the classic rock channel. "Hey, what kinda music do you like?"
"I like classic music, Signore, but whatever you like I like."
>You nod and switch through the channels to find the classical music station. You find it and sit back in the drivers seat.
>You are almost through with Vivaldi's "Spring" when you pull in front of the range and find a parking spot.
>You pick Pico up, who is now in gun form and fit her into your holster before stepping out of the car.

    >You open the car door and step out, motioning for Pico to change. You slide her into the holster.
    >Opening the door to the range you are greeted by a cold blast of air which makes your skin crawl.
    >A moment later muffled gunshots sound from behind a glass pane in the wall, peering into the firing lanes.
    >You approach the counter to order .380 ammunition from a chubby guy with a baseball cap on.
    >You order three magazines worth of ammunition, enter the range and set Pico down on the table.
    >You look at the other shooters on the range, and it doesn't look like any of them have geists, probably.
    >You load one magazine and are afraid. You don't want to hurt Pico.
    >As you think about it, a gunshot rings out, and you see brass spit out the side of the gun.
    >You empty the magazine slowly, pull it out and insert a fresh one.
    >You repeat this twice more and then set down Pico.
    >Quietly she transforms, but she's a little different. Her face is tinged with red and a little bit of persipration.
    >At first your scared that you did something wrong, but your doubts are shattered as she throws your arms around you.
    "Signore Anon that was the most fun I've had in forever!"
    >You look around and make sure that no one notices the random child that materialized infront of you. You gently push her off.
    >You turn around to Pico and give her a pat on the shoulder. Pico looks up at you with pleading eyes.
    "Can we do it again signore? Please ?" She says.
    >"Alright, one more magazine, then that's it."
    >Pico lets out a little cry of joy and transforms into the gun.
    >You empty another magazine then you leave the range with Pico in your holster and set her down in your car.
    >She's back to being a girl and is fidgeting around in her seat.
    "Are you suuure we had to leave signore? I was having fun."
    >"I know Pico but come on, it's getting a little late, don't you think?"
    "Alright..." She says, slumping in her seat
    >"Hey, are you hungry?"
    "A little bit." She responds
    >"Do you want ice cream?"

Pico looks up at you, mouth agape. "Ice cream?"
>"Yes Pico, ice cream. There's a store nearby that sells some."
>Pico is ecstatic, fidgeting excitedly in her seat. She barrages you with questions about flavors and brands.
>You tell her to shush as you pull out onto the main road.
>She obliges but it's clearly very hard, as she is looking around with wide eyes.
>A short drive passes and you pull infront of the supermarket and park. You wonder if you should carry Pico or let her be her human form.
>You say fuck it and let he be her human form. Almost no one here knows you anyway, so...
>You help Pico out of the car and enter the supermarket. Pico is tightly gripping your hand and pulling you towards the frozen foods section
>You follow her as she pulls you to the ice cream section and she presses her face up against the glass.
>At this point you can help but stand back and be amused as she looks over every possible flavor and flavor combination.
"Ooh signore I want this one!" She motions for you to come over so you do. You move her aside and open the chilled door.
>You pull out a large tub of Neopolitan icecream. You don't know what you expected.
>You carry the tub of ice cream to the cashier while Pico wraps her hand around yours, hiding shyly behind your legs.
>The cashier looks down at her and smiles. "Your daughter is adorable, mister."
>Pico whispers something quietly and stands closer to you, embarassed.
>You say thank you and pay for the ice cream and walk Pico back to the car where she climbs inside and you place the ice cream on her lap.
>The drive home is unusually quiet but when you pull into your reserved parking spot you look over at Pico.
>She's opened the ice cream and has begun eating it with her hands, covering her clothes in ice cream.
>"Pico come on, really?" You complain exiting the car, running over to her side and pulling her out
>Pico giggles as you lock your car and pull her inside your apartment.
>You groan as you get your hands covered in sticky strawberry ice cream.
>You carefully maneuver her past all the furniture and to the bathroom.
>Shower-tub combos are truly a blessing this day and age.
>You grab a wet towel and begin to towel off her hands, wiping it around her face.
>She giggles some more, telling you that it tickles.
>You sigh as you clean her off completely, except for her clothes.
>"Pico stay here, I'll try to find you more clothes." You run out of the bathroom and pull open drawers.
>You scavenge a concert t-shirt and more socks and return to the bathroom. Pico is fumbling to take off her shirt.
>Turning on the hot water you help her remove her clothes, test the water and gently carry her in.
>"Alright Pico, I trust you enough to leave you here alone. No splashing, just stay here calmly, alright. Don't turn that knob either."
"Yes signore, you can trust me." She gives you a beaming smile.
>Nodding slowly and leave the bathroom and sit on the couch.
>Your mind goes back to the store clerk. 'Your daughter is adorable'... could you even consider Pico a person, much less a daughter?
>You go back in forth over your mind, sitting on the couch and staring at the wall. You don't even realize that Pico must have been in the bath for at least an hour.
>You quietly check on her, seeing her sitting serenely in the tub with her eyes closed, head above the water. You quietly whisper her name.
>HEr eyes flutter open and she looks at you lazily. "Come on Pico, time to get dressed." You say softly.
>You drain the tub and help her out and grabbing a dry towel begin to towel her off.
>Her crazy hair becomes fuzzy and poofed up from the static, and you share a laugh. Finally you put her new clothes on and pat her on the head.

>Both of you walk out of the bathroom to the kitchen, to responsibly and cleanly enjoy some ice cream.
>You've made a fatal error though. Leaving the ice cream out for that long has rendered it a gooey soup of colors.
>Pico struggles to look over the counter so you hoist her up by her shoulders and sit her on a bar stool.
"Well, Anon, we have straws, yes?" She asks
>You nod, catching on to her plan. You open a draw and pull out a straw. You hand it to her and warn her.
>"Don't over indulge yourself Pico, alright?"
>Pico nods excitedly, and you know your message didn't go through. You shrug, leaving her to her devices.
>You take a seat on the couch and prop your feet up. Looking through the window you see the sun has just dipped below the horizon.
>You grab the remote and turn on the TV, watching Law & Order: SVU, the best TV series known to man.
>You're halfway through the episode before something is tugging on your arm. You turn your head, and Pico is standing holding her stomach.
>"Feeling sick, huh?" You say with a little more smug attitude that you intended.
>Pico doesn't speak but nods her head and mumbles an 'mhm'. You frown and gently pick her up and put her next to you on the couch.
>You wrap your arm around her and hold her close to you as you unpause the TV. You check on Pico every once in a while to make sure she's OK.
>One of the times she's closed her eyes and is softly snoring, using your body for support. You look at the time. It's almost 10 o'clock, you have work tomorrow.
>Well, work doesn't start until 9, so you can probably get some more sleep in then, yeah. You smile warmly as you close your eyes, falling asleep.
>The jarring sound of a phone alarm is the first thing that wakes you up.
>Next it's the movement of Pico next to you, accidentally hitting you in the face with a wild hand.
>You groan uncomfortably as you struggle to get up. You pull your arm free from Pico and rub your face.
>You turn on the phone and realize it's only 7 AM, you have got plenty of time.
>Turning around, facing the couch you see Pico has curled up on the couch. You smile, and pull a blanket down to cover her.
>You stretch your arms as you stride into the tiny bathroom, closing the door behind you and removing all your clothes.
>Turning on the vent, you shiver in the nude as you wait for the water to warm up.
>You climb into the steamy waters and wash yourself down quickly. Don't want to spend too much money.
>You step out of the shower, squeaky clean. Wrapping yourself in a towel you make the frigid trek to your bedroom.
>You put on some of your clothes, a jacket, jeans, etc. and clean up, proceeding to the kitchen.
>Grabbing milk and cereal you make yourself a quick breakfast, almost rushing yourself to finish.
>You look at the clock, it's only 8:15. You can probably get to work right now if you hustle.
>You clean up quickly, and stop at the door. You turn around, go to the couch and kiss Pico on the forehead.
>Hopefully she'll be okay on her first day alone.