Work Text:
"The moon's not made of cheese, dummy!" Eight-year-old Mark laughed at his little sister's crestfallen face.
Sam's disappointment was palliated over the years. She discovered that the moon was responsible for the tides. She spent hours studying the history of the moon and its potential origins. Its continued significance throughout human religious history and folklore fascinated her.
Now, she was standing on a moon. Not Earth's, of course, but a moon just the same. She waited until the guys were all looking elsewhere and crouched down, running her fingers through the sandy soil, a soft smile dancing in her eyes.