It's Her Birthday, The Ongoing Quest for Presents

[Captivelight]

Monique's mother had DJ's number and wasn't afraid to use it. She called regularly for updates and to get the news that Monique might not want to tell her dear mother. But, when she calls this time it's for a different reason. So, it is with an ulterior motive that he knocks on the young girl's door. As usual he's wearing his scuffed up boots, ratty jeans and a T-shirt, this one with the battle flag of Gonzalez emblazoned across the chest.

Coincidentally Monique happened to be on the other side of the door to let her friend out. It swung inward to reveal the two girls, the older also much taller, doing something of an elaborate secret handshake. It ended up with them bumping hips and wriggling "spirit fingers" at each other. The shorter girl was was dressed in socks pulled up past her knees in wide bands of red and white. Right along with a red tank top and shorts. Lisa waved goodbye and then gave DJ a greeting before heading down the hall.

DJ nodded to the girl as she left, feeling a bit old as he remembers that she's almost young enough to be his daughter. "Like ohmigod, what're you two gals up to?" he asks Monique as he turns to face her directly. He can't help but take in her body, though he berates himself for it. He should really say something to her about dressing so provocatively, but he's sure she doesn't think it's provocative in the least.

Well that earned him a punch in the arm that really wouldn't even hurt a baby. She didn't have too much upper body strength. Monique was a tiny girl after all. "Like oh my God we're talking about going to Club Onyx for my birthday. It's just the best place ever and I hope Rayze is singing that night." Monique was in a good mood. She didn't touch the ground when she walked and dropped herself onto a couch.

DJ followed along behind her, though he was suddenly in a less good mood. He did rub his shoulder where he got punched, grimacing in mock pain. "Huh...you know, a little birdy told me you're birthday was comin' up. I figured I could throw you a party or somethin'. I guess goin' to this club could be fun, too, though."

"Did you get me a present." Monqiue could move fast for being so short. She was suddenly up and patting down his pockets. "You know I like presents and 'sides that I deserve them. Plus no one said I only had to have one party thank you very much."

"Not yet! Not yet!" DJ answers, putting his hands up over his head so they didn't get patted down as well. "Dang, girl, I just found out today. Give me a minute to figure out what to get you, aight? So, two parties huh? One at this Onyx Club and the other where? Chuck E. Cheese's?"

"Huh? What? Is that the place for babies?" Her family never had money to indulge in such things when she was small. Now she knew she was entirely too old for that place. Monique pouted because she didn't find any presents at all. "I have you know that I'll be turning seventeen thank you very much. Almost old enough to vote or buy cigarettes."

And old enough for something very different in a lot of states, but DJ wasn't going to mention that, or think about it too much for that matter. "I can give you your spankin' early if you're just itchin' for a birthday present that bad," he says with a grin. "Otherwise, you're gonna have to wait for the actual day. If you don't wanna go to Chuck E. Cheese what do you wanna do? Go to dinner? A movie? Bowling?"

"Birthday spankin'. Pfft. You wish." Monique was flouncing off to show just how outraged she was, but then he mentioned bowling. If she had cat ears then they would of perked up at that moment. Again she moved with surprising quickness to clamp down on his arm. The teenager was even more mercurial than most girls her age tended to be. They were best friends again. "We could go at midnight. They have the lights and they go really good with my purple top."

"Not to mention your purple hair," he replies, reaching out to pat her hand. "Or what I assume will be your purple hair on the day we go bowling." He watches her with a grin on his face. "Speaking of which, when do you want to go?"

"I hooked up with this cool girl at the club. She can change my hair color and I don't have to use stinky dyes. I just trade her clothes. It's great." Monique found that she had to reel herself back in after that whole tangent. She gets up on tiptoes and that doesn't help her goal. So the girl floats up a bit to kiss DJ's cheek. "At midnight right when it becomes my birthday of course."

DJ puts an arm around her tiny little waist just above her not so tiny bottom and hugs he close, turning his face to the side to present his cheek. "Well hell 'n' damn, if you done found someone who'll trade you hair color for clothes, it sounds like you're both in heaven. I 'spect it'll never be the same color two days in a row." He releases her to let her float down or away or wherever. "Celebratin' from beginnin' to end, huh? That's just the way to do it."

"Well you should know. You have that look like you got in all kind of trouble when you were young. You know. During the ice age and all those crazy times with the saber tooth tiger tipping." Monique did a twirl that made her look like a ballerina under water, but she didn't move away. "Tomorrow I'm thinking blue and green stripes."

Well, if she wasn't going to move away...DJ pulls her close again. "Yeah, I remember this one time, we stole ol' Mr. Thag's favorite mastodon and shaved our initials into its side. And don't even get me started 'bout the time my buddy invented fire." He picks up a strand of her hair to examine it and nods. "I think blue and green stripes'll look mighty fine.

"Invented fire? Is that how you all got suspended from school?" Monique couldn't help but laugh. If DJ knew how to do anything at all; it was how to deliver a funny line. She looked up at him and then tried to look at her hair without actually grabbing any of it. "I was getting tired of this red anyway, but it does go with my outfit."

"Yeah, it scared the nuggets outta principal Targ and the though we were all witches so he kicked us out." He makes a show of looking at her hair and then down at her outfit. "Yup. It matches pretty close, but how many clothes do you got that just happen to be the right color?"

"Lucky for you can get by on your looks instead of an education." Monique preened. She was a sweet girl, but she was also vain. It wasn't a horrible cause of vanity, but she liked that people liked her clothes. "Well hardly any at all until I make them. Now I can make my hair always match my outfits." She seemed content to dangle off his side for the time being; even moving a bit closer. "I got flowers but I don't know how sent them. Did you? Cause it is almost my birthday."

"Oh yeah. I'm like a model that way. I just grin and bat my eyelids and shake my booty and I can get pretty much anything I want without havin' to do no work." DJ was fond even of Monique's vanity and when it came to her clothes, she certainly deserved it. Of course, he didn't mind the way she pressed up against him either, though he suspected it was because she thought of him like a brother or uncle. "Nope. It weren't me. I didn't even know until a little bit ago. Where are they? Maybe I can sniff the card and tell you who it is." He let her go then, putting his hands down to his sides so she could float away to the flowers.

"Well of course. It works for beautiful people like us." Monique looked over one shoulder and gave him a flirty wink before walking away. She disappeared into the tiny kitchen and came back lugging the massive vase of flowers. The teenager could only carry the thing by "cheating" with her powers. You couldn't see her behind the wash of red roses and lilies. "No name or nothin. Just the flower guy sayin it was for me. How funny is that?"

DJ waits until she's out of the room to give a little groan. He knew Monique didn't mean anything with her flirty ways, but that didn't change the effect they had on her. Every time he was around her, he had urges he should never have around a teen aged girl. When she gets back, he takes the flowers from her, much better equipped to handle them than the petite girl is. "Pretty weird," he agrees. He sets the over sized arrangement down and looks for the card. Smelling the flowers won't do him much good since he'll just catch their scent.

There was a little card buried down in there. Monqiue just hadn't seen it among the riot of colors. It certainly wasn't signed with a name. All that was on the card were the neatly written words "Until Again". She would really have no idea what that meant. "They're mighty fine though and they make the apartment smell nice."

DJ didn't like things he didn't know the origin of. He'd been ambushed and tricked and trapped way too many times in 01. After reading the card, he gives the flowers another sniff, looking for any smells that were out of place or dangerous. Then, he steps away to do the same to the card, seeking out any familiar scents. "They are pretty. Prolly the second prettiest thing in the place," he says as he concentrates on the card.

It was a good night for Monique to practice her preening. She looked quite pleased about the compliment. The card came from another ascendant; well groomed and tall, but not at all from the institute. Monique had met him in passing at the Onyx. "I almost forgot that I stitched you up another suit. It's a dark gray but you have the coloring for it. I thought all black at first, but I don't want you lookin like a mortician."

DJ doesn't recognize the smell, but recognizes it as male and feels a moment of jealousy. He quells it as he puts the card back in place. "Looks like you got yourself a secret admirer," he says. "Yeah, save the mortician wear for Sarge. He's got the personality for it. The hair, too," he says with a grin.

"I thought you were my only secret admirer. " Monique was teasing of course. She may have had a crush on DJ, but there was no way it was reciprocated. He was mooning after some skinny, stupid...blue haired......It was best she got off that train of thought before something broke. She got up on tiptoes again to look over his shoulder; the suit bag in one hand. "See. It's for if you need to get fancy sometimes. One suit for marryin' and one suit for buryin'."

DJ blushed, but hid it quickly. "Dang, Baby Girl, I guess I ain't secret enough, huh? And I guess I got some competition." If Monique knew how much DJ had seen Cazella lately, and what he'd gone through for her, she would pop a gasket. But, recent events have laid the ghost of his feelings for her mostly to rest. He doesn't like losing and won't go on a fools errand for a woman who is clearly in love with someone else. He takes the bag from her and unzipped it to look at the suit within. "Want me to try it on?"

"Well I had my suspicions but now you've proved it. I'm gonna tell everyone. No competition though. I'll just let you think that so you'll buy me presents." Monique settled down emotionally and was back to her pixie self again. She started to physically try to push him toward the bedroom. "Of course I want you to try it on. I might have to work with the cuffs some. Plus you have to tell me it's wonderful. You need to try it on to do that."

"Great. Now I'm gonna go broke tryin' to buy you all the presents you deserve," he says, joining in the playful dialog to hide his consternation. He even pretends that her tiny little shoves propel him into the bedroom. "I can already tell you it's wonderful, but you ain't gonna believe me until you see it." He closes the door behind him and starts to strip out of his clothes to change into the suit.

Monique gets down to business while he is in the other room changing. It distracts her from the fact she has a gigantic, unrequited crush. She never had one of those before and it's not as amusing as it looks on sitcoms. "Maybe I just like dressing you up." The girl all ready had a pun cushion attached to one wrist and she was fishing through a box of neatly arranged thread.

Any garment that DJ can't throw over his head or zip and button quickly takes him some time to get into. Unless its been assigned to him by the military. So, it takes him longer to get into the suit than she probably expects. "I'm just a big Ken Doll to you, ain't I?" he calls out. When he's finally ready, he steps out, barefoot and in a suit with the top two buttons of the shirt left open. He looks none too certain in the outfit and raises his eyebrows as he holds his hands out to his sides. "Well? How do I look?"

"Of course. Just one who can dress himself. It helps me cause I'm lazy." Monique answered his question by shamelessly making whistles and catcalls. She just couldn't help herself, but it didn't also stop a serious inspection. "Maybe I did too good a job. You'll have repressed businesswomen all over you. I think the cuffs of the pants are okay. Its hard to tell without you in some fancy shoes."

DJ struts for the whistles and catcalls, sashaying across the room with his hips swaying wildly back and forth and a ridiculously serious look on his face as he sucks in his cheeks. "Really? You think so? Maybe I'll swing by the business district tomorrow durin' lunch." He grins and waggles his eyebrows at her. "Does this help?" He raises up on his toes.

"I should be careful or next thing I know you'll be kept by some ancy lady. You'll spend your days lounging around in a penthouse." Monique was glad that she had been near a couch. She fell backwards onto it laughing at DJ's antics. "It loosk good, but bring it back if you don't like it. I'll fix them right up for you. You can put back on your boring clothes now and sit with me."

"Oh yeah. I'll be like one of them fancy cats that sits on a pillow all day. Or I'll just hang out by some pool in a speedo. 'Course, I'll have to wax myself and that ain't gonna be a small task." He gives her a wink before strutting out of the room and closing the door again. It takes him far less time to get out of the clothes and into his own than vice versa, though, no doubt, she'll have a fit when she sees the way he put them on the hangar. He doesn't bother putting his boots back on yet and comes out pulling down his t-shirt as he sits next to her.

"I don't think you have that kind of time. You'd be all old before it was done. Stick with being a fancy cat." Still he could pull off that kind of life. Monique enjoyed the view before DJ pulled the shirt all the way down. She wasn't going to let him in on that secret though. Instead the girl just stretched out across his lap; stretching out with a yawn before settling. "But you really like it though." She was serious as she looked up at him; head cradled on the arm of the couch.

"True enough. I'm already pretty old what with all the dinosaur huntin' and whatnot," he replies. Having her legs across his lap makes him uncomfortable because it makes him very comfortable and he rests his hands lightly on her calves. "Yes, I like it very much. Thank you."

"Well you do spend time around me. I can't have you looking just anyway." She took on her best snooty, sophisticated very northern voice. There was no trace of her southern roots until she started laughing. Monique started to kick her legs. "These are the best socks ever and I got a lot of different colors for sale. Only annoying thing is I think some of the girls are copying me."

"True enough. You can't have nobody lookin' like a ragamuffin in your inner circle." He grins and grabs an ankle to keep her leg pinned and strokes her calf with the other. "Well, they're mighty cute. Can't say I blame the other girls for copyin' you since you look so good in 'em." He indulges himself just slightly by letting his hand stray all the way to the top of that sock.

"It's a good thing you see things my way. It would be a shame if I could only see you secretly, but then again that might make it more fun." Monique at least gave a little struggle but it wasn't going to do much against superior strength. Lucky for the girl she was dark skinned or DJ might of seen her blush at bit at his roaming hand. "What's that word I talked about with the tutor? Clandestine? Sounds like a candle to me."

[Captivelight]

Monique wasn't joking when she claimed to be excited about getting to go bowling. It was actually one of her favorite things to do. The girl was too short for basketball or track or anything else black girls were supposed to be good at doing. The teenager found that all the really troublesome people back home wouldn't be caught dead in a bowling alley. They'd most likely be caught dead somewhere else.

She was dressed up of course, but now it was a bite more sedate than her usual wild outfits. A bowling shirt had been cut and hemmed, taken in and stitched to become a dress. There was time when hovering around five feet was economical and handy. There was no need to add any material. The new dress was a curious shade of purple that glowed in interesting ways under certain lights; the black stripping going along the buttons and the sides. Underneath were carefully bejeweled garters that clung valiantly to thigh high socks of the same purple and black. Right now Monique wore buckled up black boots but that would be switched for matching purple and black bowling shoes. There was no need to reveal how short she was until the last moment.

Even her bowling bag matched her outfit and had a pin up girl stitched on the side; just like the one on the back of her dress. There was her personalized ball in the bottom compartment and her shoes in their own compartment on top. It had been one of her indulgences when she came her and sold some of her clothes; along with saving up the stipend she was getting. Monique's bowling ball was clear with butterflies inside; actually meant for a child. So the girl got a good deal and something she would use a lot. The ascendant hadn't shared her predilection with any of her friends here at school; worried they would think her nerdy for having such a past time. DJ wouldn't tease her badly about it or at least not in a mean way. So she waited for him in her little apartment as the hour moved along toward midnight.

[KingMonkey]

The old habits instilled in him by his father never died. DJ still carried a pocket knife with him anywhere he could (and cursed the ancient legislation that kept him from carrying one on planes and into courthouses,) he still opened the door for ladies (whether he was attracted to them or not,) and he still showed up for everything early.

So, he knocked on Monique's door at 11:26 so they would have plenty of time to get to the bowling alley and get set up before the stroke of midnight. Leaned against the door, his casual smile disappears and then slowly returns as he sees the girl's getup.

Even though she was only 5' tall, her homemade dress wasn't really long and the fact that he could see her garters only accentuated that fact. If truth be told, DJ felt that Monique dressed too provocatively and if her mother saw half of the outfits she wore, she'd skin them both. But, it was hard to tell the girl what to do, especially since he wanted her to like him, and, if he was completely honest, he liked seeing her in such clothing.

Giving himself a shake and a reminder that it would still be half an hour before she was even 17, he reaches for her bag. That was another thing his dad taught him. Women shouldn't have to carry heavy things if there were men around.

"Well don' you just look like a pro...bowler," he hurries to add before either of them can think of other conotations for the statement. "I didn't know you were so into it that you'd have your own ball."

He offers her his arm as he turns towards the elevators, ready to take her out on the town. As usual, his own arms are bare, but he's wearing a polo shirt instead of his usual t-shirt. It's accomopanied by his best pair of jeans. He's even cleaned and polished his boots. His hair has been recently cut and he's clean shaven. Apparently, he's gone all out for her birthday.

[Captivelight]

"And here I didn' know that you owned a mirror and a pair of clippers. You don't clean up half bad and we're both learnin' somethin' new tonight."

Monique seemed to perfectly follow the path of short women being full of sass and her southern drawl only added to it. She was grinning when she looked up at DJ; partially because it was difficult not to laugh and partially because she was happy he was here. He was too much fun and they didn't see each other much considering his schedule and her social calendar. There was school too of course. Now she at least tried not to forget all of her studies.'

"I like to bowl. It's one thing where being short doesn't matter so much. You're not going to see me playin' in the WNBA anytime soon. Besides I got that ball for a good price because it was for kids. So having tiny hands came to my advantage for once."

The teenager is more than willing to take his arm. She wouldn't admit, but the act made Monique feel rather fancy. This was something that gentlemen did for proper ladies not just some ghetto girl. She also wouldn't tell DJ that he looked handsome or she'd certainly have no peace for his teasing. Once inside the elevator she tried to casually hold onto the rail and pull herself down. Really she was supposed to have more control by now, but put her in a bubbly mood and occasional she drifted a few inches off the ground.

[KingMonkey]

"Oh, I got bunches of mirrors, Baby Girl. I gotta. Every so often when I look into one it cracks so I gotta replace it," DJ replies with a grin.

He pretends not to notice the fact that the girl is hovering above the floor, though it's fairly obvious given the knows how tall she is in comparison to him, even in heels (which he noticed and appreciated and knows how high they are, too.) When someone normally comes to your shoulder and now she's up to your chin, you tend to notice it.

Not that he minds her showing her good emotions like this. This is no worse than if she were one of those bouncy girls who hopped up and down all the time or squealed when they were happy or excited. It's part of what makes her unique and special. As long as she has enough control to keep from blowing up the institute when she's mad or tossing him through a window when he irritates her, he's happy.

"I figure you just might do okay in the WNBA," he says as the elevator descends rapidly though the floors of the Institute and down into the parking garage. "After all, you can be 'bout as tall as you wanna be, can't you?"

At his truck, he opens the door for her and helps her step up into the vehicle, turning his head when her skirt rides up. Then, he goes around to his side and in moments, they're ripping out of the garage and tearing out of the University.

[Captivelight]

Once they left the elevator Monique had managed to get her feet back on the ground. There, that was much better. It was more like someone who was going to turn seventeen at midnight. Being to walk on the ground like a normal human being was more mature.

"I don't think that counts. There wouldn' be any leg underneath all of that height. Maybe if they start a league that's just for ascendants."

Once inside Monique is quick to buckle up. She would of slapped on two or three seat belts if that had been possible. DJ drove like he was crazy and even having a crush on him didn't make her less nervous about the prospect. It always looked like they were about to slam head on into a car when they happened to hit a red light.

"I have my own shoes too. Mostly because I don't want to wear shoes a hundred other people have been wearing. I don' know what they've been doin' with their feet. I only have the one pair though. One day I'll have enough to match all my outfits."

Monique wrinkled up her nose. The thought of strange feet overpowering the sense of fear that accompanied riding in this truck anywhere.

[KingMonkey]

"Yeah. They oughta start Ascendant leagues for lots of stuff," DJ replies, noticeably more quiet and thoughtful than he usually was. His eyes glaze over with memory and possibilities and for a few seconds they're hurtling down the road on pure reflex before he snaps out of it, brakes hard and changes lanes just before ramming into the back of an SUV.

Fortunately for Monique, and everyone else who rides in DJ's truck, including DJ, one of the additions he's made to the vehicle is adding bucket seats with 4 point harnesses. It actually is like wearing two seat belts.

"A pair of shoes to match every outfit? Baby Girl, you try that and you ain't never gonna be done, quick as you make clothes. Maybe you oughta just make outfits that match the shoes."

The truck bounces up into the parking lot, the light feeling in the stomach coming when DJ takes the ramp in too fast and the shocks extend to their fullest, leaving the two passengers momentarily in zero gravity. Then, he's rocketing into a parking space, the tires squealing just slightly as he stops abruptly.

Slowly, he lowers his hand from her chest where he extended it to brace her for the sudden halt. "Here we are," he says with a grin.

Rock and Bowl is covered in flashing neon proclaiming the name of the establishment, how much fun people will have inside and the numerous activities that will add to that fun. DJ presses the red button in the center of Monique's harness to release her from the seatbelts and then frees himself before coming around to her side of the truck to help her out.

This time, he has to help her up. One of the other additions to his truck is variable level suspension. An advance on the low rider technology from the previous century, it lets him adjust the height of his suspension, high for rough terrain and low for cases like this when he needs improved handling and aerodynamics. Where Monique had to step up to get into the truck when they started, it's only a few inches off the ground now.

[Captivelight]

If she wasn't just almost seventeen, just about completely terrified, and knew for a fact he was all wrapped in some dumb white chick; then she would of assumed DJ had been trying to get fresh as his hand lowered. Cute as he may be the girl didn't appreciate anyone trying to get fresh. As it was Monique was just happy they had finally stopped moving and her heart was still beating. It as just impossible to get used to almost dying while trying to get from here to there. Probably it wasn't that dramatic but that was how it felt as her heart started to settle.

Monique started to straighten up with wobbly legs; her stomach trying to recover from the flip flops it had been doing. She had to lean heavily on DJ just to get out; her heels making things difficult for once on top of everything else. Once out she stood there for a moment with her head resting against his chest. It looked rather sweet until the teenager opened her mouth.

"If you didn' have a presents for me and I could stand... Well I'd throw you into the middle of next week Daniel Jackson Anderson. I'm way to pretty and way to young to be dyin' on my birthday. Yet here you are trying to kill me and then you just grin 'bout the whole thing. You won' know where and you won' know when but I'll get ya for this."

Monique managed to look up with one of her sweetest, most innocent smiles and patted the man on his chest.

"Now though you don't have to worry. Dropping a bowling ball on your head would just be to easy."

[KingMonkey]

DJ really doesn't see what the big deal is. He's street surfed in the backs of buddies' trucks when they were driving just as fast and recklessly and only once did he ever end up in a ditch when the driver had to swerve to miss a stray cow. The way he figured it, you were safer riding with someone who knew what they were doing going really fast than you were with someone who was a bad driver no matter how slow they were going. In fact, acceleration was the only way to avoid a wreck sometimes.

But then, Monique wasn't born with ethanol pumping through her veins and given an ATV for her fifth birthday, so he could see why she would be nervous.

So, he just hugs her, enjoying the way she fits in the fold of his arms and pressed against his chest. He only feels a little guilty about the way she trembles and the wobbly way her legs support her.

"Aw, Baby Girl, you're way to cute and sweet to die on any day. I had everythin' under control. I just figured I'd give you a little roller coaster ride to liven up your special day. On the way back we'll take the curvy road and then we'll have some real fun," he teases.

Slipping his arm around her waist, he helps support her as he leads the way into the bowling alley. Even before they get to the door, the noise from inside hits them like a wave. Despite how noisy the clatter of balls on pins can be, the sounds from the lanes themselves can't be heard of the throbbing beats and screaming guitars of the rock 'n' roll that's being pumped out of every wall.

DJ has to lean down and speak directly in her ear to be heard. "Now, you know, ain't no bowlin' ball to the head gonna kill me. Hard as my head is, you'd just end up crackin' your ball. You gotta hit me someplace where I'm vulnerable like my pancreas."

There's the distinct possibility that DJ is the oldest person in the place other than the owner. Everyone else is young and hip and bowling because it's ironic or retro, but never because it's entertaining, no matter how excited some of them may seem about getting a spare or a strike. And, sadly enough, Monique's is not the skimpiest outfit or wildest hair.

Heading up to the desk, DJ gets his ugly, ugly rented bowling shoes and the lanes that he reserved. When they sit at the two adjacent lanes, the lights are still up and it's five minutes until Monique is officially 17.

[Captivelight]

"You wait until it's your birthday and then you'll have to pay."

Monique made no more comments on the matter as they stepped inside of the bowling alley. It was wildly loud with too many lights so it was just the place for the young ascendant. She didn't have to rent any icky shoes that someone else used. Monique's pair was all purple and black to match her dress. She had in fact found the shirt to match the shoes in this case.

"I know some place vulnerable that I can hit you with a bowling ball."

It was the only comment she had on the matter. It took time to undo the straps on the boots and put them side. The bowling shoes themselves slipped on much easier and faster. The sole on them was a little higher than normal, but still you could appreciate the teenager was when not wearing heels that would make Barbie wince.

"So are we going to buy bad bowling alley food? Or is this the kind of place that has actual waiters and a real kitchen?"

Monique pulled the back out of the bag. It was indeed completely clear; revealing the colorful plastic butterflies that were in perpetual flight inside. She appeared to test the weight a few times before setting it down into the ball return. Once midnight hit and the lights were lowered; everyone would find out the peculiar crystals in Monique's skin glowed in black light.

[KingMonkey]

"I can't wait. I'm sure you can come up with somethin' just awesome for my birthday," he says. "And don't you go throwin' balls at ba...nevermind."

While she went through the arduous process of discarding her boots and replacing them with her own custom bowling shoes, he goes to find a ball for himself. When he returns, the has the heaviest ball he can find in swirly, iridescent red. Before he gets back, though, Monique has other company.

A half dozen of her girlfriends accompanied by two of the guys that she knows loudly pile into the alley and traipse over to her lanes. Before they can take their seats the lights go out. Even though everyone knows it's coming, there's still a squeal of fear/delight as the florescent lights go out. Of course, there's so many black lights and and neon that it's still easy to see.

"Ohmigod, 'Nique! Look at your skin. That's so awesome," one of the girls says, looking at the way her skin glistens and shines in the light. "I'm so totally jealous, I wish I could get my skin to look like that!"

DJ gives her a minute or two to greet her friends before coming up and setting his ball on the return. A fresh song kicks in, the rapid fire beat blaring out of the speakers all around them at even higher volumes than before.

Again, DJ has to lean in close to be heard, his mouth right next to her ear. "There's waitresses, but there ain't great food here. You can get a burger and a hot dog, but don't expect no filet mignon."

About then, a girl who could legitimately be a student back at the institute in a short skirt and a bowling shirt with the name "Felicia" embroidered over the breast comes up with a tray under her arm.

"Hi, what can I get you guys to drink tonight?" she asks, managing to shout over the music without sounding like she's shouting.

[Captivelight]

Monique was pulling on her bedazzled bowling glove when she too noticed how her skinned sparkled. In all honesty she was your typical, vain teenage girl so she twirled about and posed as she preened.

"It does look pretty good. I should come here all the time."

She stilled once DJ got close enough to speak to her. Was it silly that it thrilled her each time he leaned close to speak into her ear. It probably was, but she wasn't going to let DJ know how he was feeling. He so didn't deserve it even if he was really handsome.

"Oh do you have root beer floats? I want a root beer float for my birthday along with all of my presents. You guys did get me presents right?"

Presents were very important to Monique. What girl didn't want brand new things to call her own? Some material would be nice but then shiny, sparkly, spangly jewelry would be good too. It wasn't right to be too fussy as long as they bought her something.

"I open presents and then we bowl."

Monique laughed and spun around again. It was good to be around her friends, and looking very pretty, on her birthday.

[KingMonkey]

"Sure," Felicia replies with a smile. "Anything for the birthday girl. How about the rest of you?" She goes around the group getting their orders, pausing only when one of the guys orders a beer. DJ stares him down and he gives up his stammering explanation about having left his ID behind and orders a soft drink instead. Even the only legal adult, DJ, doesn't order anything alcoholic. Given his Ascendant metabolism, he would be processing the toxins so quickly that Felicia would have to be going back and forth to the bar non-stop to supply him and he'd spend more time in the bathroom than at the lanes.

Fortunately, Monique's shirt dress is fitted enough that as she spins it doesn't rise or expose any more of her flesh than is already exposed anyway. That doesn't stop one of the college guys from eyeing her closely as she turns, though.

"Yay! Presents!" one of the girl's shouts in agreement and dumps a carefully wrapped box on the table in front of Monique and giving her a hug. Each of the other girls, and the two boys do the same, piling up a nice stash of loot. The boy who gave her the eye also hugs her, Troy's embrace lingering a bit longer than anyone else's. His gift is a teddy bear and a little vial of perfume.

DJ waits until all the kids are done before coming up to offer up his tithe to Monique's latest birthday. Reaching into his pocket, he withdraws a small jewelry box and hands it to her. Inside is a gold chain with the words "BabyGirl" incorporated into the necklace. "Happy birthday, 'Nique," he says as he gives her a hug.

In the end, she has a pile of clothes, shoes, jewelry, music and movies. Felicia has returned and everyone's drinks are laid out by the time she's done with her presents.

[Captivelight]

Monique receives all of her gifts with the poise and regal posture of a queen. Now when she opened them it was a different matter entirely. The tattered remains of paper fell onto the table as each new present was greeted with a delighted squeal. The teenager was not so bubble headed as she seemed; just entirely too excited about getting things.

She was sure to hug each person in turn and manage to be heard over the music as she thanked them. Monique gave Troy a bit of a long look, but that was all forgotten once she opened the jewelry box. The ascendant jumped up into DJ's arms to give him the longest hug of all. Despite the fact he wasn't the tallest of men; her bowling shoes were not touching the ground at all.

"Thank you. It's perfect. Thank you everybody. It's such a good birthday."

Hyperactive as she was; Monique was off and picking up her bowling ball to play. She went over to the lane and then suddenly whipped around. The ball was left in midair; floating lazily as she ran back up to DJ.

"Oh put the necklace on me. It will be good luck when I play."

[KingMonkey]

Monique didn't even have to support herself when she leapt into DJ's arms. The slip of a girl was easily held aloft by the tightness of his hug. "I'm glad you like it," he says quietly, only their proximity letting her hear it over the pounding music in the background.

He would have been a fool not to notice the way Troy looks at her and she looks at Troy and Troy looks at him. DJ's been around the block enough times to know jealousy when he sees it. Of course, Troy has nothing to be jealous of. DJ's not interested in Monique. She's just a girl, after all. She's far too young for him. He's not some dirty old man chasing jailbait. No matter how good she looks in her handmade dress, or how good she smells when she's close or how right it feels to have her in his arms.

Troy can, and should make a move. He's only a couple years older than Monique and a much better match.

Still, DJ feels a surge of pleased pride as she comes back to him to have the necklace put on. As she holds up her hair, he deftly fastens the clasp, securing the chain around her neck and his fingertips brush her shoulder. When she turns, his gaze is drawn to the gold glinting against her dark, warm skin.

"Looks great," he says, before forcing himself to look past her. He frowns as he sees the ball hovering there. When his abilities were discovered, he was ostracized for them. He might have a gold medal right now were it not for the way people felt about Ascendants. Of course, he wouldn't have that medal without his ascendancy, but he doesn't think about that. Plus, years of covert ops that depended on keeping his secrets has made him paranoid and displays like Monique's make him reflexively nervous.

There are a few glances and murmurs from other lanes at the hovering ball, but no one makes a scene.

DJ forces himself to relax. "Aight, let's bowl!" he declares, taking a seat at the table and starting to fill out the names.