YOWSA. It has been YEARS since I have uploaded something to this website.
As I have stated before, this is a pilot with my (quite revamped) characters and the Hyperforce. Because it is, this story has no particulair plotline, but I do hope will be entertaining, nonetheless.
You need no prior knowledge of the characters to understand this. It's MEANT to be introductory. If you would like to see their references, a link to such is avalible on my profile.
Rated T - For adult humor, mild cursing, and liquor/smoking references.
Illustration to this story belongs to KrazieKazoo on DeviantART website, and the link for such can also be found near the top of my profile. I commissioned her to do it with both the Hyperforce and my characters and have her permission to use it.
Of Birthdays and Bashes
In their glory days, Hyperforce members could go into the grocery store and no one would bother them except for the occasional person to thank them for saving the city. It was of the likeliness of seeing a soldier in uniform, except they would be meter tall monkeys trying to work with a shopping cart that was made for humans twice their height. Nonetheless they would get the groceries done eventually, alas sometimes they had to jump or stand on the shelves to get delicate things, such as eggs, safely into the cart.
This run, it was Otto and Nova, and they needed groceries in the worst way. They had neglected grocery shopping for awhile, and their cart was filled to the brim and then stacked on top of it. They made their way down every aisle to snake across the entire store, and the last sections on the end were the frozen foods, which made the majority of their inventory. Nova was browsing through different kinds of coffee creamers. Otto was in the next section, tossing assorted frozen breakfasts from across the freezers and into the cart.
It was amidst this a pair of waffles came slamming into the back of the combatant's head. She groaned and slowly turned around, giving her teammate the mother of all glares as she bent down, retrieved the item, and pitched it into the cart.
Otto had on the widest smile on his face and was trying to keep himself from laughing. "I'm sorry." The female only shook her head. "No, really! I was aiming for the cart! I swear!"
"Yeah, yeah," the yellow simian rolled her eyes. "Because it's not like you can simply walk around and put the waffles in the cart, oh no. You have to throw them across the aisle."
"But throwing them is easier and faster! I'd have to walk around the aisle, like, a dozen times before I got all of the food in there."
"We barely have enough room in the cart. But do you want me to put the cart over there?"
"No." The engineer made a puckered grin. "I like throwing them. It's fun."
Nova chuckled to herself and turned back around to the creamers and observed what she had picked out. There was milk, hazelnut, vanilla, but then she had to get half and half. She was curious to see she couldn't find it. Upon looking up, she saw there were numerous cartons of it on the very top shelf. Where she couldn't reach. Sometimes she really hated being on a human planet. Could she opt to just not get it? No, because Gibson and Antauri would only drink their coffee with half and half, and if she came home without it, they would ask her why, and she wouldn't lie. So now, she would either have to wait for someone to come by or for Otto to join her. The most convenient way for now was to ask the tall, heavy-set man with a full grown beard and a ponytail that was standing within earshot. Thankfully, now that Gibson had made the translators, she wouldn't have to tap people and then write them a note anymore.
"Hey, Mister?" she asked, then continued as he turned around. "Can you reach up and get some half and half creamer for me? As you can see, I'm a bit… vertically challenged."
"Oh, sure," the stranger nodded, reaching for the shelf. "Care which one?"
"Nah. Just not the off brand. They'll kill me."
"Sounds like my girlfriend," he chuckled as he grabbed a carton and handed it to the other. "Anything else, or is that it?"
Nova tossed the creamer into the cart. "That's it, I think. Thanks."
"LADY NOVIE!"
The yellow female quickly spun around and saw Etta was running towards her with short, rapid steps, as she had on a thin black and white pencil dress that hindered her movement. The pink-eyed female made entertained chuckles as the other advanced, and then exchanged a warm hug with her.
"Oh, Novie!" the teal woman squealed and took her by the hands. "It's mighty good ta see ya! 'Seems loike it's been forevah, yeah?"
"Yeah, I mean, at least a few weeks." The combatant gestured to her. "Neat dress."
"Oye, ya like it? Gilson gave it ta me as a birthday presant! Thanks a lot!"
Otto exclaimed from the other aisle. "Novo is right! Annie's a ninja!" The slate female spoken of was giggling and had her arms wrapped around the engineer's shoulders, embracing him from behind. "She coulda snuck up and hurt me!"
"Goodness, whatever are you talking about?" the counselor said sweetly and kissed him on the side of the head. "I'd never hurt you, Otto!"
"Hey, Annie," Nova chuckled. "What brings you guys here? I didn't think the Powersquad shopped at major grocery stores. I thought you like those organic market places."
"Thot's to'ally not true! We ain't thot posh!" the female engineer laughed. "We'll get things like toma'oes an' stuffs at tha mahket, 'specially ice cream an' dry goods! We just dun' get meat or 'erbs or beau'y fings from 'ere 'cause they ain't as good."
"This case being, we're just here to pick up ice cream and tidbits." Anna held up the black shopping basket in the crook of her arm. She released Otto from her grasp and brushed off her red, collared day dress. "But it looks like we came in just as you were finishing things up. Sorry we won't be able to bother you, then."
"Oh, you're never a bother, Annie," the Hyperforce female leaned over the freezer and anchored her arms on it as if casually sitting at a table. "Speaking of which, I'm kinda glad you guys are here. Any place you could think of to pick up a cake? They're all out, here."
The counselor tilted her head. "That depends. What's the occasion?"
"Birthday."
Etta chimed in, "Ya wan' a fancy gourmet cake or ya want buttacream er whot…?"
The combatant chuckled. "Just a regular ol' birthday cake."
"Well, we usually make our own cakes," the counselor shrugged. "So I wouldn't know."
"But if they were gonna set'le with a cake from here, I say B'nG would be a good place."
"I've never heard of it!" Otto piped up. "Where's that?"
The teal simian cackled. "All tha way on Agness! But don't cha worry, love, ya won't 'ave to be takin' a trip anytwime soon! Why, I once picked me up some fairy cakes at– Oh where was I…" she thought for a moment, then snapped her fingers. "Darrell's!"
"Oo, what are fairy cakes? Do they have sprinkles and plastic wings on them?"
Anna giggled at the man's question. "Fairy cakes are cupcakes. So yes, they could."
"Who's 'avin' tha birthday, if I might ask?" Etta nudged her friend on the shoulder. "I'd sure 'ate it ta be someone I know an' I fohgot again!"
"Well it is someone you know, some people you know," Nova snickered. "But you couldn't have forgotten because you didn't know in the first place. It's kinda sorta the day the Hyperforce dubs as our collective birthday, because when we were in school we all had the same birth date put on our records. So I thought to pick up a cake that's probably going to be eaten well before the actual day unless I can figure out some way to hide it in the fridge."
"It's your birthday?" the Powersquad's commander was surprised, but happy. "When?"
"This weekend. But Monday is grocery shopping day, so… yeah."
The slate female nodded thoughtfully. "Then what do you usually do on your birthday?"
Otto laughed. "Give each other presents, take the day off, and then go out to eat!"
"And that's it?"
"Yep!"
Anna nodded, and then, a wide grin came onto her face. "Well, then, I insist you let the team and I take that day and arrange something special for all of you."
"Oh, no, Annie, you don't have to do that–"
"Okay!" The man interrupted his teammate with an excited beam.
"And we know we don't have to. But we want to, really. After all the things you've done for us and with as close of companions as our teams have become, it would be criminal not to!"
"Oo, I'm well excited already!" Etta clapped her hands. "You can 'ave a pahty for once! Aw, I love decorating tha Ba'le Droid! An' then we'll at least 'ave Novo ta ask whot ta get ya as presents because God knows how 'ard men ah to shop fo!"
"We'll be sure to call you later tonight with plans." The magenta-eyed simian finished the statement with a pleasant smile and nod. "We'll at least have a skeleton together so we won't have to make it on short notice. And besides, you're mostly men. They don't always need as much notice as we ladies do, and you were going to take the day off, anyway, yes?"
"Sure, we'll be fine," Nova said, quickly surrendering the argument. "It's really nice of you. And remember– we're not expecting anything at all, much less something extravagant."
"Of course," the commander nodded. "Well, then, seeing as you two have to finish your grocery shopping, we'll leave you alone. But it was wonderful seeing you."
Otto chirped, giving her another hug. "You, too!"
"We'll see ya this weekend, then!" the engineer also embraced the Hyperforce warrior in a goodbye gesture. "Oo, it'll be so much fun! I'm so glad we ran into you!"
"Oh, and one more thing," Anna smirked. "If Antauri thinks that he can argue with me about this one, you can tell him to kiss my furry ass."
The blonde simian laughed in delight. "Oh, it would be my pleasure."
"So what do we have?"
Anna's face was lit up with the blue and white hues of an electronic screen, as she was peering over Sparkey's shoulder to look at the computer.
The pink simian was leaned back and enjoying a shoulder rub from the other. "Well, there's only two places right now that are even showing things I think would be remotely interesting for all of them." She switched between two windows opened on the device. "The Color Purple and The Drowsy Chaperone. I've never seen either. Purple, by the description, looks okay, it's just more of a soul production with a lot of gospel music. Chaperone just seems to be hilarious, kinda like a sitcom, comedy with a happy ending. They might like it. Both of them, matinee."
"Which one do you think? Have you asked Novo?"
"Both Novo and I are partial to Chaperone."
"Drowsy Chaperone it is!" the slate female kissed the other on the top of the head. "Go ahead and get the tickets. Nine, please, since one of us is going to have to stay home and make the dinner, and put it on the group debit. In front of the first balcony if you can. I don't care if the floor ones are more expensive, I always like the view from the balconies better."
"Same here," the pilot nodded. "Hope A&G will like it, though."
"Oh, they'll surprise you sometimes. As long as it's not too raunchy, but this says PG-13, so I see no reason why it would be. One time I went to go and see Hairspray with them and they were laughing the entire way through. We even watched some old episodes of Monty Python and other things. I think they like comedy when it's done well, and live, usually."
"Ah." The other nodded, scrolling her way through the different ticket websites to purchase from. "Well, then, I learn something new every day."
"So I need to go and talk with the others," Anna said, pivoting on her heel and making her way out of the office. "But thank you so much, dearie! You are tremendous!"
Without even looking back, the onyx-eyed female raised her hand, opening and closing it shut in a nonchalant adieu. "You know I am. Buh-bye."
After she left, the commander pressed a pad that was mounted in the hallway. "Computer? Can you tell me where Gilson is?"
There was a pause before it responded in a monotone, female voice. "Gilson is in the kitchen. Would you like me to connect you by audio or video?"
"No, thank you." Anna released the button and then took the Droid's pods up from the work and office areas to the commons, where the living room, dining room, kitchen, and things of the like were located. She trotted into the kitchen with a smile on her face, singing joyfully. "Oh, Gigi? My Gigi?" The rich smell of butter and pastry wafted into her nose and made her mouth water, as suppertime hadn't come yet.
"Annie," Elaina turned around from wiping chocolate sauce from the corners of her mouth and sucking her finger. The croissant in her hands had Nutella erupting from the middle. "Ta journée s'est bien passée? {Your day went well?}"
"Oh, it went wonderfully, actually." The slate female rounded a peninsula to the cookie sheet that had the baked goods on them, taking a napkin from the dispenser and helping herself to the pastry. It was hot and flaky; the mixture of chocolate, butter, and salt was rich and decadent. "Ah, no one can make croissants quite like you can, Gigi." She paused for another bite, one that oozed the chocolate over her chin. She giggled as she dabbed at her mouth. "And that's actually why I came here. I wanted to ask if you could make supper this weekend."
Instead of the response that she had hoped for, the sky blue female bore a befuddled expression on her face and was quick to shake her head. "No, I canno'," she said, crisp and to the point. "'Ave zomeone else do eh, buh I am beesy an' es no my turn."
Anna's expression fell. "Buh… But Gilson! No one on this team can cook like you can, and I really wanted to do something special for the Hyperforce!"
"Zhey ah all men, mon cher. Anyzing buh zhere oh cooking eh spee-shall."
"What are you so busy with then that you can't cook, anyway?"
"Feefth veekend, my love." The scientist admonished. "I vill be gone to Rosario. An' unteel zhey inven' ah teleportation devi' foh foo', I canno' 'elp vous."
The commander sighed in dismay. "Well can't you reschedule it for next weekend and then your next trip will be at the same time, just four weeks from then? This is the Hyperforce's birthday we're talking about, and they've been such a big part of our lives I wanted to make it amazing!" Her tone dropped to a slight whine, hurt, if anything, and begging. "Please, Elaina, you weren't even here for the holidays or anything! Can't you spare at least one time?"
"Ees Hyperforce's birthday?!" the other echoed, her entire demeanor changing from defensive to joyful as she took her friend by the shoulders and shook her. "Why vous no say so?! Of cour' I may zem suppah!" She laughed and slapped the other on the shoulder, resuming to eating her own pastry. "Ghee, woman, I zought vous vere jus' try to geet me to stay foh juh becau' zomezing like zhat an' I wah zinking, 'Damn, Annie, why vous geet zo emoshunal on meh?!'" She took a moment to partake in her snack.
The commander chuckled nervously and was about to say something, but decided it would be best not to. Elaina was always conveniently absent for most major events such as holidays and birthdays. It was as if she didn't view the team as family like the rest of them did. The reason why always avoided Anna, and it chewed away at her.
"I geeve vous menu tomorrow, buh I mus' buy zings zwee days een advan', zen zome on day oove. Zo dun expeh moi to do anyzing else. Weech day? Saheerday? Soonday?"
"Saturday," the other murmured, attempting to forget about her quaking thoughts.
"All-rye." Elaina nodded and raised her eyebrow. "And vous know eet wheel no be sheep?"
At the thought of it, her commander laughed. "Why, for as many times as the boys have picked up the bill for us at the events or meals we go to, had we counted up the money we were prepared to spend had they let us go Dutch, I don't think this would even amount."
"Oh, ho, ho, ho," her friend emitted what was the stereotypical French chortle. "I no worry aboo zhat at all. Zhey probably may ah lease half moe zhen we do on accou' zhat zhey ah men an 'ave mooch, mooch moe ezzperiance, an' 'ave enoo' mo'nay to may lahge fahmee reech. Zo I say, 'Leh zhem pay! Leh zhem feel like beeg boy to 'ake care ah gohgeous lady fwheinds.' Becau' even if zhey only may as mooch as vous an' I, zhey ah steel seet an' pwetty an', 'ow vous say, 'shoogah dah-days.'"
"'Ello mah beau'iful bints!" Etta's charming greeting rang through the room. "Oye, I smell pastries, yes I do! I con already feel my cholesterol soarin' through tha roof!" She joyfully slapped the counter as she passed it. "Either that er Gilson's swea'in' again! HAH."
"Gigi know Gigi smell like buttah scone ween Gigi sweah." The scientist rolled her eyes as she took a napkin and readied one of the croissants for her teammate. "Steel 'ot."
"Oo, jolly jammy!" The engineer giggled as she bit into the croissant with delight, then shivered in pleasure. "Oh, yeah, thot's tha stuff."
"Lovely of you to join us, Etta."
"Oo, oo!" The teal simian chewed and swallowed another bite, not feeling keen on speaking with her mouth full. "Spahkey act'ally told me ta come see ya an' tell ya thot I'wve seen Tha Drowsy Chaperone, yeah? It's the bees knees! So hilarious. I fink they'll awl love it."
Her commander clapped her hands. "Oh, splendid, then!"
"But Gilson shouldn't come. No offense, love." After getting a noteworthy expression from the other, she shook her head. "They have this part that this girl is acting like she's French and it's really silly and stereotypical." She giggled. "A French girl named Mimi."
"Vous no zink I can take juhoke?" Elaina rolled her eyes. "Even ze French, we make fun of ourselves, an' I see foreen shows, zhey 'ave satire of ze French, I laugh vah-ree mooch." She sipped from a mug. "Buh I no go becau' I may suppah. An' for rechord, I see Drowsy Chaperone, er La Chaperon Assoupi, as eh wah trhanslated in French, no? Exce' it no French girl name Mimi, it Spanish girl name Mahria."
"Oh, you've seen it, Gigi?" Anna asked. "Because the whole reason it was mentioned was because I asked Sparkey what shows were playing that day that we could possibly take the Hyperforce to see, but I wasn't sure if Antauri and Gibson would like it. What do you think?"
"Eh…" the blue female closed her lips in thought, then bobbed her head from side to side in a comical, thinking fashion. The bobbing then morphed into a nod with a shrug. "Oui, I zink zey will. Is mooch like fahmee show, oui? Kooky characters, dash in weez leetle absur' 'umor, witty narrorator, es satire eh twenties musical, vous go een an' ow of 'reality.' Zere is 'ap dancing numbah, too! I love eh. I zink zey will, too. Een fact, I zink perfeect choice!"
"Oh, that's splendid to hear! All Sparkey could tell me was that it was a comedy."
"A musical within a comedy!" Etta added. "That's its tagline!"
"I simply must call them now! I'm so excited for all of this!" The commander put her hands on her hips. "Can I call them from here or can I not rely on you two shutting up?"
"Relying on us belting up would make you a pillock, mate!"
The other hummed in joy and turned around. "Ah, at least I can always count on this team to be honest with everyone, even when it's brutal honesty."
Anna decided that her room would be the best place, being that any common areas might be inhabited by other team members and she didn't want to disturb them or have others making smart comments. Another quick trip down the pod to the bedroom complex and she was there, and started lighting select candles placed in her room. She never particularly favored artificial light, especially since when she was in school the hallways and classrooms were lit with torches. She could stand it for her job but in her room, there was not a piece of technology other than air conditioner and the computer communicator. It was just how she liked it.
The slate female pressed the select button to turn the microphone on. "Computer? Call the Hyperforce, please. Their main line, if you will."
"Of course. Calling Hyperforce." The computer replied, then allowed the ringing tone to resonate through the speaker in her room. Unfortunately, though, the very person to answer was the very one she was hoping would not, telltale by his low, bass voice.
"Hello, this is Antauri."
"Hello, Antauri, it's Anna," the female said, contemplating whether or not to light another candle. She figured she would only be in the room for the duration of the call and opted not to. "Could you be a dear and connect me to Nova?"
"Nova's busy running diagnostic tests, I'm afraid."
"Otto, then?"
"He's replacing cervos and nowhere near a phone."
"…Gibson?"
"If this is about what you told Nova, then I'm not going to dispute you."
Anna shook her head in defeat. "And you better not or I'm hanging up."
The man raised his pitch to sound nonchalant. "Come, now, Anna, I let you coordinate the holidays. You don't think I'd let you have our birthday?"
"Actually, no, I didn't, not without me putting my little foot down and insisting upon it because every time I try and take care of you or myself you find some way to deny or reverse it."
Antauri chuckled in amusement. "Because heaven forbid I'm obligated to manners."
"Well, excuse me, the entire root of manners is to see to it that you please everyone around you, and it would be etiquette to do so unless otherwise requested. And it has been otherwise requested by me numerous times, and following manners can sometimes be just as worse as not following them when the circumstances are right. You, sir, have no right to force me to accept any charity you might have." Her nose wrinkled in distaste as the other chuckled on the other end. "You think this is humorous, Antauri?"
"Indeed I do, that you are complaining about me being generous to you."
The woman huffed, though snickered, and was glad the other couldn't see her. "Why, I'd never thought you'd speak like such a positively pompous man."
"Pompous?" the other echoed, though an entertained smile was on his face.
"Excuse me, why are you laughing?" Anna made her tone sound insulted, but behind the line she was smiling ear to ear. "Well, now, I see what it is. I'm just a sweet little girl and it doesn't matter how many nasty names I throw at you, you'll take it all as fun and games, because there's no way such an important, sophisticated man could take little ol' me seriously. You, sir, are an absolute chauvinistic bigot if I have ever met one."
Behind the line, Antauri paused to try and let his muffled laughs dissipate. "Oh, Anna," he finally mustered to say. "The reason I find it so hilarious is that you are so convincing in your absolute distain of me and my company, and yet I know better. Why else would you still want me around at wine tastings or ballets?"
"You sly dog." The other scoffed. "That's a part of an ancient art that women have had for thousands of years in knowing how to take advantage of our standing in society. I ask you, good sir, in the root of all mannerisms, who's the joke on?"
"I suppose it remains to be seen."
There was a pause to allow for a change of mood.
"So," the Powersquad commander picked at the metal crevices of her fingers. "Saturday, you can expect for myself and the team to come meet you at the Robot in our vehicle of choice, so be ready to leave by, oh, say, two o'clock. We are going to take you to an event and supper which requires creative black tie, or I suppose your teammates might simply call it 'formal.' The ladies and I will be in gowns, if that helps them visualize. You should probably expect to be occupied for the rest of the evening and maybe into the night. Feel free to bring another change of clothes if you feel that would make you more comfortable later on. If it matters, everything is indoors. You're not required to bring anything except for your beautiful selves!"
"Well, Anna," the onyx male smiled. "I'll be eagerly awaiting it."
"Indeed," the other replied. "Well, that's all I have to say. So as the French say, 'Au revoir.'"
"Goodbye, then."
"Wow, the girls really went all out."
Sparks's comment uttered more in little words than what could have been said in a paragraph. They watched a long, ebony limousine pull into the driveway of the Robot. He slightly gulped and tugged at his collar, then frantic to make sure his green bowtie was aligned as he put a smooth smile on his face. Just to emphasize, he put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the side of the Robot, flicked out a pair of sunglasses and slid them over his eyes.
"You get your hands out of your pockets this instant before I pry them out and tape them behind you," Gibson hissed through bared teeth, giving the other the meanest of glares. "You might think you're achieving a status quo, but instead you look like a complete idiot."
"You're just jealous 'cause I make my suit look good, not the other way around."
"Nah, I disagree," Nova haughtily strode past the crimson male and swayed her purple, strapless gown as if dancing to an unsaid beat. She felt proud and quite elegant in it, as she had gone out to buy it as her own present to herself. Even the toughest of girls always loved to feel pretty. It was sheath shaped and sewn to resemble large scales, with an onyx, crystal studded waist to accent her figure, and a matching, flat headpiece that laid on the side of her head. "In fact I think Gibson looks a lot better than you. But I'm a girl, what would I know?"
Antauri adjusted his tie and cleared his throat. "Gibson's right, Sparks. It's considered very uncouth to keep your hands in your pockets, especially like that."
"But the guys that model for GQ do it all the time!"
The blue male scoffed at the engineer's comment. "And they look like uncivilized buffoons is what! If you're going to trust magazines produced by the uneducated public as a role model for what is proper, then you're just going to end up with the sad, uncouth corruption of mannerisms and their complete disregard for formalities."
Otto's lips puckered. "Then what is a role model for manners and what's proper? How did you and Antauri learn all the formal stuff you guys know?"
"Books. And lots of them. Etiquette books, guides to dressing for the occasion, etcetera. Usually ones that are at least forty or more years old."
The limousine rounded about and parked in front of them in the midst of their conversation, the Powersquad combatant being the first to emerge, in an ebony suit with a blue tie and vest. He gestured hello to them with a two finger salute, and then kept the door open for the rest of the members to come out. First was Etta, in a sapphire dress with silver pins to make it fold elegantly, a high waist, and off the shoulder neckline. After was Sparkey, her mermaid gown emerald green with gold studded accents, ruched and tight to accentuate her figure. Lastly was Anna, her dress draped for a low plunge and elegant layering in the front, in rich metallic gold.
"Wow, we should tell you guys it's our birthday more often!" the crimson male laughed and strode towards them, extending his arms in a greeting. "Talk about Hollywood treatment! You gals look hot!" He snapped his fingers and pointed at the single male of the other team. "'Cept you, Novo. You're ugly as ever."
"Ya mean more dishey than you ah!" Etta cackled and shook the arm of her mate teammate. "But come now, love, that dun mean ya ain't any moe or less dappah!"
"It's wonderful to see you, Sparks." The slate female exchanged a brief hug and a kiss from the other, then took his hands and rocked them back and forth. "You're looking handsome."
The male gave one of his cocky smirks. "And you, Annie, put J-Lo to shame."
"Aw, you're so sweet. And just for that you get first pick!"
"…First pick?"
"Uh huh!" Anna nodded. "It's your birthday, isn't it? And we're going to a formal event, so it's understood that escorts are encouraged. So that means that you gentleman can choose any of us to have on your arm!"
"Oh, cool!" The pilot leaned back with a bit-lipped smile and sneakily snuffled to his right. "Like a date auction except without the auction part." His arm outstretched and wrapped around the pink female's waist. She made a sigh from her nose with a slight frown on her face, though a content expression, as she knew she was going to be his likely pick. "So, how's this work? Do I get 'er for twenty four hours or until the night's over?"
"Until the night's over," Sparkey muttered. "Midnight or whenever you go home."
"What, Sparkey girl?" The other raised his eyebrow and casually stroked her back with a fist. "No witty retorts? No rolling of the eyes or anything?"
The green-clad woman chuckled and shook her head. "Nope. I was completely prepared for this and luckily had a Long Island in the car, so I'll be fine."
Novo laughed. "Four shots and it ain't even three o'clock!"
"That's how I roll."
Sparks's eyes nearly popped open at his date's casual comment. "You mean the limo has a full wet bar…?" The other only snickered and nodded. "Heck, yeah!"
"Two drink maximum, mind you," the female commander pulled her lips into her mouth, to try and fight a smile. "Come now, gentlemen! Don't be shy."
Antauri raised his eyebrows in casual thought and exchanged a look from his fellow male teammates, each of them expecting someone else to go first. The leader chuckled and stepped forward. "Etta," he outstretched his hand towards the teal woman. "I don't think I've escorted you before, even with as long as we've been acquainted."
"Nee hee," the Agness native winked. "How unfortunate for you."
"Where's Gilson?" Nova asked, a bit perplexed at realizing there were five men and only four women this time. Normally when they would go to formal events these days, no one would be left without a partner. "She can't be picked off?"
Sparks rolled his eyes. "Are you kidding me? Gilson's never at these things."
The comment slightly hurt Anna because she knew that it was true, but she quickly brushed it off. A giggle emitted from her as she felt her raised hand being taken, a look over her shoulder revealed it was the scientist, clad with a satin grey ascot tie and vest combination, with a diagonal striped pattern and pinned with pearls. He had a content smile on his face, pleased that his friend had gone before and he didn't have to make a choice.
"Unfortunately, Nova, I don't have an abundance of men on my team." The slate female replied, turning towards the blonde. "You could have Novo, whom would be delighted to escort you, or pick one of your own, I suppose."
Nova shrugged. "I really don't care." She put her hands on her hips and turned behind her. "I guess I'll go with you, Otto. It's your birthday, too."
"No, no, it's okay!" the green male nodded in excitement. "You go with Novo! 'Sides, partners to these things are only the people you walk with and open doors for, so it's no big deal. Honestly it doesn't matter to me, either."
Nova got the sense that for some reason, he was happy to have the option not to deal with her, and her eyes narrowed in suspicion. It was unlike him, though he was trying to be cheery and cover for it. Mentally, she debated whether or not to ask him, then opted not to.
She faced the golden male with a nonchalant expression. "Well, I guess that settles that."
"Splendid!" Anna clapped her hands and turned towards the vehicle. "I suppose if there's nothing else to coordinate, we should get going, then!" The others helped themselves in first, being in the order of who was closer to the limousine. This put the two combatants and Otto to be the ones to lag behind and wait for them all to situate and squeeze into the long automobile. Most of it the time was taken by women, who had dresses to accommodate.
The Hyperforce warrior smirked, thinking about ways she could add interest into the situation. It was then she shoved her handbag into the golden male's chest. He took it rather tentatively, and she smiled in victory. "Hold my purse."
The male smirked, "This is a clutch, not a purse."
"Shut up."
In a sense of boredom, the jade green-eyed man blew out of his lips. "I'd pop out of a cake for you but a cake that big couldn't fit in the car."
His date rolled her eyes. "That problem can be solved by cutting out the middle factor and just putting frosting all over you. But you'd have to take the suit off, first."
Novo's lips pulled into his mouth, though his cheeks curled and his eyes squinted in an apparent smile. "This would not be the first time I have been asked to take off my clothes. I must simply have that effect on women, no matter how ripped they themselves are."
"Hey," Otto trotted towards the two of them and lowered his voice. "I didn't mean to be mean, Nova, and it's not you. I'm just really glad to be alone at one of these things for once! That's the best birthday present that someone could give me!"
"And why doth thou desireth to be woman-less?"
The engineer seemed to pale at the other man's comment, then he murmured out the explanation as if revealing a dark secret. "Gibson beats me."
The two warriors burst out in laughing so intensely and so swiftly that their throats immediately started to hurt. They held their stomachs and crouched over, feeling as if they had to sit on the ground but couldn't due to their attire. Nova tried to muster out protests that her makeup was going to be ruined due to the tears, and she hadn't even left the Robot yet. Of course all of the jokes and wild stories that they could fathom about the comment went through their minds at the same time, which didn't help with their attempting to settle down.
"It's not funny!" the onyx-eyed male protested. "'Cause I forget stuff all the time like which side to walk on and when to open doors or how to hold the arm or whatever, and– And then if I do something wrong Gibson comes at me from behind and then hits me and yells at me! But he does it when no one's looking and whispers and yells at the same time!"
Novo wiped a tear from his eye. "Normally I would say that getting beat up by a skinny smart allec like Gibson is sad, but he's a doctor and knows exactly where to hit you. I learned this the hard way, 'cept with Elaina, so I won't say nothin'."
"Hey, guys!" Sparkey called from the inside of the vehicle. "Are getting in or what?"
"Yes we are! We're just getting carried away," the Powersquad male replied, then turned to Nova and gestured towards the opened door. "After you, my lady."
The drive to the theater was half an hour, but surprisingly getting through the box office didn't involve much waiting at all, as they already acquired their tickets. So they, quite literally, walked by security. The building was old and had beautiful restored artwork, such as the detailing in the wallpaper or the chandeliers that hung above their heads. The theater itself looked like something from a historical movie, with angels carved into the banisters and a mural of infant cherubs that spanned the entire, massive dome that made the ceiling.
"We went to a tour of this location many years ago and they claimed that most of the hardware such as the lights were so tarnished and brittle when they found it that they needed to replace it. But they made exact replicas to have in the working theater and replaced the oil and steam workings with electricity, while the originals are on display in a neighboring museum."
"Oye, thot's blindin'!" Etta subconsciously looked towards one of the brass sconces that lit the balcony, pondering Antauri's words. "Especially since Shuggazoom is so notorious fo' defining tha phrase 'Out with tha old an' in with tha new.'"
The onyx male gave a light laugh of agreement. "I concur."
As they were walking into their seats, Otto's eye caught sight of the back of Sparkey's dress. Or the lack of, thereof, as it was completely open down to the small of her back and held by only two far-apart straps on her shoulders. For the occasion, she had taken off her jetpack, disclosing a black tattoo that whirled in a wing-shaped design. Normally he would think tattoos weren't very feminine, but this one was rather elegant, placed between her shoulders but low enough that it would easily be concealed by every day blouses.
After they had taken their seats, the engineer tapped her on the shoulder. "Hey, that tattoo is really cool! I remember you've worn it before. How did you get it on?"
Sparkey opened her mouth in an automatic response, yet she paused with consideration, an entertained smile coming across her painted red lips. "It's not henna, Otto. It's real."
The green male's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Really? Wow! I've never been friends with someone with a real tattoo! When'd you get it? Did it hurt a lot?"
The pink female scratched her cheek in thought. "I've had this for as long as I've known you. Actually, for as long as I've been on the Powersquad. I got it back when I was at the academy. Honestly I can't tell you why, I just thought it'd be cool. Tattoos don't hurt that much, as long as you don't expect it to hurt or don't have a really low pain tolerance. And– Well, I'm a girl, and have high pain tolerance. The best way I can describe it… is if someone were scratching at your skin with a needle. It's not pleasant, but it's not unbearable."
"How's your fur grow to be the same color? Do you dye it?"
"No, the ink pigment makes the fur dark, too. But truth be told if you look at it close enough, it's actually a very dark brown rather than pure black because of it."
Otto laughed. "Nova says I'm colorblind, so I wouldn't know!"
The female pilot shrugged. "I'm actually convinced that people see colors a bit differently than others, and it's been proven by studies, I think. Sometimes the girls and I argue whether a shirt is navy blue or indigo, brown or dark red, gold or brass, things like that," she chuckled to herself. "But you couldn't truly be colorblind because Gibson would have tested you for it and then you would have a restriction on your license to drive the Robot and everything else."
"Oh, yeah! Because then how would you be able to recognize traffic lights?"
"Exactly."
Sparks leaned over as he heard the conversation had come to its end. He subconsciously cleared his throat and straightened his posture. The usual smirk he sported had diminished. "So, uh…" he trailed off, using the phrase to signal that he wanted the pink female's attention. When she turned to face him, he smiled, but not smugly, more of pleasantly. "This is all really cool. Annie said you found this place?"
"I found the show online, yeah," she nodded. "Supposed to be a pretty diverse comedy. Etta said she's seen it and loved it and Novo and I thought it looked interesting."
"Cool. Looking at the program I thought so, too." He bit the inside of his lip and looked down at the floor, pondering on how he could say what he wanted. "You, uh…" he tracked off again, then hoped the words came from him as he wanted them to. "You really do look awesome. I know this'll sound funny, but I never thought I'd actually like a green dress. You usually only wear gold and black, but that color looks really nice on you."
Sparkey could tell by his expression and the careful tone of his voice that he meant this genuinely and was inwardly praying she wouldn't shoot it back in his face. He also seemed at a loss as to how to word such things, as it wouldn't be typical of men to take thought to them, much less say them. To the untrained ear, perhaps it sounded like an overused pickup line that had been modified for his own use. Yet she had so much experience with men's actual compliments versus scripted sentences, she knew the difference well.
In fact, dare she say she might have taken it to heart, as this was the first time she'd worn this gown, and she had been skeptical of the jewel color against her magenta fur. In response, she returned the modest grin. "Well, thank you. Did it occur to you that we're matching?"
"Heh." The pilot looked at himself, seeing his emerald cummerbund. "Not until now."
A silence passed, and Novo, whom was sat between his date and Sparks, nudged him on the arm. "I wanted to do a roast for your birthday, but the girls are too brutal."
Sparks chortled at the comment and patted the armrest. "You've got that right."
"And I'm sure this play is going to be a whole lot funnier since we've had a few."
"That was the intention," Anna's voice floated from a few seats down, having a singsong tone to it. "And you said a wet bar in a car was a bad idea."
Her male teammate's gaze narrowed. "I thought if we hit a bump or something we might spill liquor on us and then walk out smelling like booze and then people will think we were hitting it too hard. And the fact that two of some drinks can get you legally drunk. And you, young lady, your whiskey glass was pretty full, if I might say."
"Quite frankly, I didn't even know Anna drank bourbon."
"Of course I drink bourbon! What, you think it's still 1960, Antauri?" She brushed off the fellow commander's comment. "You looked like I had just taken off my dress or something."
Novo snorted and laughed. "Then Annie, you have never seen what a guy actually looks like when he sees a girl take her dress off, because that was not what Antauri looked like. He looked like a cow that sees the headlights of an oncoming train, but when a man sees a woman, he looks far more stupid. Besides, we can see a lot of you, anyway."
"NOVO." The slate female burst in laughter and leaned back in her seat.
"Let's just say this–" The golden man dropped his tone to low and concise. "If Gilson or Etta was wearing that, the last thing on our minds would be watching a play."
Etta wheezed as she tried not to burst with loud, obnoxious laughter. She bent over and held herself, rapidly tapping her feet on the floor in attempting to rid the energy. Her date leaned over to see if she was alright, even put a hand on her shoulder and asked such. At this, she popped back up and pinched his chin, but not enough to hurt, only to shake his head.
"Ya don't 'ave ta look fah ta see some bristols, do ya?" she cackled.
"…What?" Antauri stared at her, perplexed. "What are bristols?"
The teal woman put her face only inches from his, a flirtatious smile on her face. "I think you know," she carefully enunciated every word. As she leaned back, she shook her shoulders. "Or you con at least figure it out, love. Use ya bonce, birthday boy."
Sparks, on the other hand, wasn't listening and continued the conversation in the group surrounding him. "–It'd be kinda hard to have a bar fight when there's only a wet bar in a limousine. You could kick people, I guess, but only the person sitting next to you."
"Yeah, that's what we shoulda done. Gone to a bar and get blackout drunk." Novo chuckled in musing the notion. "'Cause there ain't anything greater than getting into a bar fight. You are just not a true man until you get into a good ol' fashioned bar fight."
"Oh, really?" Anna leaned forward to look. "So what does that make Antauri and Gibson?"
"Froofy excuses for men." The Powersquad combatant narrowed his gaze, then put on a classic English accent, pantomiming holding a glass. "I say, Antauri, I think the weather suits my fancy today." He switched his tone to be lower. "Ah, yes, I do believe you're quite right. Fine weather we're having." He nodded. "Indubitably." He continued to go back and forth with the voices. "Hm, I say, Gibson, I do believe this sandwich is rather moist." For a moment, he interjected with his own comment. "Don't talk about the food, dammit, eat it! Men eat their food, women talk about their food and anything else in worldly existence!"
To define the speakers, the golden male would alternate where his gaze went to simulate two different people. "Ah, yes, I do agree with you, my friend, I dare say they put too many condiments on this sandwich." Another turn of his head. "I do propose that we have ourselves some drinks of brandy this evening. Oh, yes, brandy sounds splendid! But dare I say the brandy you fetched last time was far too bitter and I rather despised it. You despised it? I certainly did. In fact I think that your taste in brandy is rather primordial, to say the least. Well then, my friend, I say that you may choose the brandy this time. Indeed, I will." The combatant rolled his eyes and slammed back in his seat as emphasis. "Put on some monocles and handlebar mustaches and you're two friggin' storybook Englishmen. I swear that you guys are reincarnated from some kind of My Fair Lady era, and I don't even believe in reincarnation! That's how bad you are!"
His commander raised her eyebrow. "And exactly when did you get into a bar fight, Novo? Because there is no outstanding proof to say that you've even gotten into one."
"You are too decisive, woman. You are supposed to believe everything I say and not question me because I am a man." The jade green-eyed man retorted with a smirk on his face. "But if you must know, Sparks has proof by a receipt for a broken chair he paid for."
The slate female asked, "Is this information true, Sparks?"
"Yep. One hundred percent." Sparks said, nodding and smiling. "I would know because I smashed it over his head. That was the greatest feeling in the world."
Nova scoffed. "You're telling me you and Novo got into a bar fight?"
"I can't imagine who won that one," Sparkey rolled her eyes and chuckled through her nose. "Lightweight pilot versus heavyweight martial artist. A bet even for non-betters."
The Agness native motor-boated her lips in a disbelieving noise. "Oh, yeah, lioke Novo's gonna be so ca'ordinated when ee's sloshed!"
"And you would be right in saying that nobody really won." Her male teammate finished the sentence. "We just kicked the crap out of each other until we couldn't move anymore."
"Es thot why ya blokes jus' stopped bick'rin' an' were sud'ly tha best o' chums?"
"Yep." Novo nodded at Etta's observation. "Because that is how real men work out their problems. You women, on the other hand, will get into one fight and be mortal enemies for the rest of your life, whereas men get into fights to resolve problems."
Antauri adjusted himself in his seat. "So despite the fact we've been into numerous combat situations, because it never took place in a bar setting, you don't consider us to be able men?"
"Nope." The other shook his head. "You two are wine-sipping pansies, not a man's man."
"Excuse me, why exactly would I want to be, quote unquote, 'A man's man?'" Gibson, whom had kept relatively quiet throughout the whole ordeal, put his fingers together and shook his hands in a pondering gesture. "See, this statement bothers me. This is a noun phrase. 'A' is the article and the word 'man's' is a possessive common noun acting as an adjective in this case. The main noun, or the subject, if it were in a sentence, would be 'man.' So, you are saying 'A man's.' A man's what? The man, in this case, owns something. You could replace the main noun, 'man' with any other thing. A man's apple. A man's pants. A man's chair. Meaning the man has possession of the apple, or his pants, or his chair. But in this case you are saying 'a man's man,' meaning a man that a man would own. Which leads me to believe that what this phrase implies is disgusting, undesirable, and completely uncalled for in formal company. In conclusion, good Sir, that I have no desire to be, as you say, 'A man's man.'"
The onyx male grinned, almost arrogantly. "I would agree."
"…What just happened?" Otto asked, his eyes wide in utter confusion.
Sparkey chuckled and whispered back to him, "Novo just got served."
"Oo, I just got a grammar lesson!" The Powersquad combatant feigned a grimace and flailed his hands as if an offended child. "So aggressive, Mr. Geebsoh! What a good show! Etta, is there some creative word you have that would be the equivalent of a 'nerd?' Because whatever that word is, Gibson has just proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that he is one, for all reason!"
The teal woman took a moment to think, gazing at Gibson and musing. "Well, norm'ly I'd say ee's ah boffin, but Gibson's tha smartest person I know, yes he is!"
"And that's what I was looking for 'cause he's being a wise guy!" Novo crossed his arms and then said in the proudest of ways possible. "You, Sir, are a boffin!"
"Nah he ain't! I jus' says so!" Etta protested. "A boffin es someone who's well intelligent but ain't got no dress sense! When you say 'smaht' you mean 'brainy' but when I says 'smaht' I mean 'fashionable.' Dun ask me foh words only ta not believe what I says an' then tolk like a clot! I finks I know my own language, ya thick bloke!"
"Novo, just face it," Nova muttered, "You can't win today."
"On another note," Gibson faced to his left and made a gracious nod of his head. "I do thank you for the compliment, Etta. It's very kind of you."
"Naw, ees nofing but tha troof."
The golden male mumbled something to himself and then spoke up once more. "Fine, touché, I'm a moron, everyone already knows. Now at least tell me this. Even if you have never gotten into a bar fight, have you ever been drunk in your life?"
The blue simian nodded. "I'm certain I've been legally over the limit."
"Indefinitely." Antauri shrugged. "Two whiskeys in an hour can do that."
"I don't mean at point o-eight," the other scoffed. "That's only enough to get you too tipsy to drive. I mean fall-off-your-chair-when-you-try-to-get-up drunk."
The onyx male shook his head. "No, I don't believe I ever have, nor do I have interest."
"Wha– " Novo rolled his eyes. "That's it. I give up. I try to ask you every question possible to give you a chance to redeem yourself so we might respect your masculinity, and I cannot."
"You gentlemen can get as intoxicated as you want, Novo," the scientist smiled in a mockingly content manner. "But I, for one, acknowledge the fact that I do not desire to lose brain cells that cannot be regenerated. How unfortunate it is that those whom do not have any more than necessary utterly destroy what little they have, while the individuals with ones to spare are the only ones competent enough not to partake in such a pastime."
The Hyperforce commander feigningly tsked. "How very unfortunate, indeed."
"Now, now, boys," Anna admonished as a mother would with children. She reached on either side and took Antauri and Gibson's hands, raising them up and lightly tapping them against the seats. "No reason to continue with this matter, we all know that Novo is just being facetious and we're all slightly intoxicated adults, still with the capacity to jest without bickering."
"I didn't know we had that capacity even when completely sober."
The slate woman's gaze narrowed, her nose crinkled and her lips tightened in a manner that one could swear she was about to murder someone. "You are not helping, Sparkey."
"In fact I am, actually. Sparks is probably much, much worse with them, but when Novo teases people he rarely means it. Let the guys have their fun verbal banter even when the conversation goes to completely nerdy. At least it does not become violent and name-calling."
"Yeah, Annie!" Etta chimed in. "I'm well entertained, really! They should keep at it!"
Her commander hummed and tapped her two fists together as if gently clapping, still grasping the men's hands, and consequently earning strange looks from them, switching from the woman in between them and towards each other.
Novo silently snorted in trying not to laugh and leaned over. "Don't worry, you two, she does that all the time. It's a weird Annie thing. You never know where your hand's gonna end up. Especially when she's been drinking bourbon and the lights turn off for the show." The sort of sound one makes when a laugh escapes suddenly and from their nose erupted from all of them except the two men involved in the gesture. "What? All I'm saying is that they can't see!" His expression was then playfully condescending. "You people are sick."
The teal woman giggled. "Con I trade places wid ya, Annie?"
"Anna, this is a bit awkward." The male counselor said, tentative.
"Yes, I don't want my hand that close to another man's hand."
Anna had been giggling at Novo's comment, but then, Antauri and Gibson's protests made the silently furious expression arise again. She stopped tapping their bundles of fists together and paused, stroking the backs of their palms with her thumb. Suddenly, she hurled her hands backwards and hit them both square between the eyes. The tear-inducing, stinging sensation of one's nose being directly hit throbbed through their faces as they snatched back their hands to cover their muzzles. The woman crossed her arms and harrumphed.
Antauri groaned through a pinched nose. "I think I'd prefer you switch seats with Etta, now."
Of course on the way back home, all the party could talk about was the comedy they'd just seen, and all subjects relatively related to the occasion. Not only had it been awhile since the two teams had dedicated a day together, but after an event such as that, anyone was bound to be talkative. The Hyperforce had been told that they were going to dinner, so it was no wonder how curious they were when they realized they had been dropped off at the Battle Droid. No one seemed to say anything against it, not that the Powersquad would ever let the conversation go where they didn't want it to.
Taking trips in the transport pods was usually for combat or casual purposes, but when one was dressed, it would be uncomfortable and dishevel one's clothes. Nova murmured to Otto as they went down the hall, "I like our pods better. I feel claustrophobic in theirs."
Yet this thought was quickly overtaken by the powerful smell of food that immediately made everyone's mouths water. The smell was a spice mixture so exotic that one couldn't even guess what it was, but it was completely divine. As they entered the dining room, they saw the place had been decorated just for the occasion. The table was indigo with a gold runner and the chairs were draped with cloth, silverware was already set, and the napkins were folded into lotuses. There was an arrangement of white flowers in and around water-filled vases of floating candles, and petals were strewn all across the table. It was because of the ornate display that for several moments everyone in the room was completely silent.
A voice interrupted the silence. "Salut!"
They all spun around. In fact, due to his dress shoes, Sparks tripped and toppled down in the direction he was trying to turn. His side met the floor with a painful thud. He looked up to see Elaina, though not in the form he was expecting. She was clad in a white chef's jacket with a long black apron and a toque, though the most disturbing was the long, thin mustache she was twisting with her fingers.
"Bonsoir!" She had her voice lowered obnoxiously to imitate a man.
Normally the teams would have given her a strange look and wondered why she was in such a costume, but due to the past evening, all of them simply burst out into laughter.
"Mon nom est Gillette et je serai votre cuisinier de cette soirée très belle. {My name is Gillette and I will be your cook for this very fine evening.}" The woman used the grasp she had on the mustache to instantly rip it off of her lip. Just as quickly as they had stumbled upon her, she tore off her chef apparel. She was clad in a form-fitting fuchsia gown that dramatically flared just above her ankles to sweep the floor, with subtly shimmery material and lined with pink fur. After the show, she posed with a popped hip, one hand on her waist and the other outstretched above her. "Jus' keeding!" She folded the outer garments in her hand. "Vous like? Bray away apron. Belove' by chefs an' strippers all aroun'!"
"Gilson!" Novo pointed at her as if an infuriated boss. "I told you to pop out of a cake, dammit! I did not say to role-play, much less cross-dress!"
"Cake eh too meesy." She whined melodramatically. "Eh roo-een my gow'!"
Her male teammate scoweled. "Said just like a woman!" He squealed. "EH my DRESS."
"Gilson!" Otto was the first to approach her, greet her with a hug, and returned her kiss on his cheek. "You're here this time!" he exclaimed. "And you're wearing pink!"
"Of cor' I am 'ere! Eh yo day of ze birth!" The sky blue female made a single clap of her hands. "Oh, loo' ah all of vous! Vous ah all so dress up an' 'ansome an' gohgeous." She headed for the Hyperforce female and greeted her with an embrace, and when they released, she gave the other an inquisitive gaze. "Purple, iz my favor-eet. An' ze shape of ze dress, is perfeect for vous an' yo tone body shape." She squeezed the other's bicep in an admiring manner. "Show off yo shapely ahms. Trés magnifique! Vous know, purple an' yellow ah usually horrifying togezher, buh vous make eet look goo'! Very goo'!"
A snort emitted from Nova's nose in holding back a laugh at the strange compliment, but by now she was used to it. "Thanks. That means a lot coming from you."
The fuchsia-clad woman moved on to the Hyperforce commander, where her eyebrows rose with contemplation. "Hm. Silver bowtie an' waistcoa'. Eet lighteens vous. Good shob." As custom she exchanged a hug and kiss on the cheek, then her nostrils flared. "Hm. Nye cologne."
Antauri made a content smile. "Why, thank you. Citrus free."
The two made strange sounding chuckles, as if the sounds weren't actually a result of entertainment. Only Gibson knew of the time that his commander once commented of how a new perfume Elaina was sporting had been too strong and gave him a headache. In retaliation, she went through and ruined his cologne with lemon juice to disrupt its delicate balance and make it smell foul beyond all reason.
Thinking of this made him silently laugh as he greeted the fellow scientist, the gesture so quick his lips barely touched her cheek as they should have. "Oh, Geebsoh! So goo' to see vous! As always, vous ah absolutely perfeect, perfeect een ev'ry way. Clothes, fragahran, ah, vous is jus' dah-sheen! Secon' to noon, out of sigh, first ray, an' all ozher Anglais idee-oom." Try as he might have to come up with a response, no words came to him.
Once she greeted Sparks, he put on his best smile, his voice lowered to be curious and casual at the same time. "So, what about what Novo was talking about, hm?"
The woman gave a deep chest giggle and walked her fingers up his chest. "Ah, but many great shows 'ave intermissions, no?" She finished the gesture with a tap on his nose, then spun around to face the company. "All-rye, now 'oo did not 'ave day foh tonight? I would 'ave gone weez buh I was cooking, vous see."
"That was me." Otto raised his hand. "But it's okay, I had just as much fun!"
"Oh, I'm sorry, my love." The sky blue female came to him and put her hands on his cheeks. "Leh me may it up to vous." Without warning she knobbed her lips and then smashed her face into his own. The gesture was made with an obnoxious sucking sound as if straight from a cartoon, and she even put her arm behind his back and bent him over as if a melodramatic movie scene. It seemed to last abnormally long, as if for comedic effect, before she finally ran out of suction and released him. In shock of what had happened the green male lost his balance and fell straight on his back, his head painfully colliding with a chair's legs.
"First Sparks, then Otto?" Etta laughed. "Gee, Gilson, what's wrong with you?"
The other chortled and clapped her hands in hilarity. "I do not know! I mus' 'ave zis effeh on men." Novo stepped in and helped the other up. "Ah vous all-rye, ma cher?"
Otto giggled and was red in the face, from embarrassment or otherwise. "I'm fine! I just got a really surprise smooch, but I'm fine!"
"Dee vous 'urt yo 'ead?" Elaina cooed and rubbed the spot he was holding, grasped his tie and bent him downward so she could press her lips against the spot.
The engineer put his hands on his hips, his lips puckered and his eyes narrowed in a playful suspicion. "You just like kissing people, don't you, Gilson?"
She giggled, raised her hand, and shrugged. "I'm Franch, wha' do vous expeh?"
Sparks's gaze narrowed, and he frowned in annoyance. "Not. Fair."
"What?" His date's eyebrows furrowed. "For once I actually let you take me by the arm and flirt and wink at me and that's not good enough for you?"
"And it's been awesome! But you didn't give me a smacker, did you?"
The pink female rolled her fingers for him to see. "Oh, I'll give you a smacker, alright."
"Sierra! Do no tay it so personally!" the female scientist implored. In a complete turnaround of mood, she spun extravagantly and then scurried towards the kitchen. "Come, come! Everyone seet! Seet, seet! Vous ah jus' in time!" She promptly disappeared into the kitchen.
"Oh… no…" Gibson muttered, his eyes widened as if he had just received terrible news. He absentmindedly took his date by the hand and led her around the table. She asked him what the matter was. "I had no idea that you'd be hosting us for dinner."
"Indeed." The green-eyed man agreed with him. "I thought we would be going to a restaurant of some sort. Is there any chance I could slip out for a few minutes?"
"Oh, boys," Anna giggled in a comforting manner. "It's your birthday! You're the one receiving gifts. And it was meant to be a surprise, so you wouldn't have any way of knowing. It's all fine, I assure you. None of us were expecting anything."
Sparks sported a befuddled snarl. "What are you guys talking about?"
"It's always polite that when someone invites you over, you should bring the host or hostess a small gift. And in Rosario, this is a strict custom no matter what the occasion."
"O-Oh!" The green male exclaimed at his leader's comment, his expression and tone one of a personal epiphany. "So that's why you guys always bring flowers when we come here!"
"Why else would we?" The scientist scoffed. "What? You thought we brought her bouquets to butter her up? Because we felt like it? Because we want to woo her?"
The male pilot muttered, "That's exactly what I thought, actually."
"Aw, yeah, Gilson and I were laughin' about that, once," Novo chuckled in memory. "You guys had come over for dinner and you gave us thirteen roses. I was helping her in the kitchen and she busts out laughing and I asked her why, and she said it was funny you acknowledged the fact it's customary to give flowers, but thirteen is unlucky. It's like saying– " He pantomimed handing someone a bouquet. "Here, I hope you fall into a ditch."
The blue male gasped and put a hand over his mouth. "You're joking!"
"Totally not joking." The golden male shrugged. "But Gilson's all cool about it, she knew you didn't mean anything by it. She's always been cool about that kinda stuff."
Gibson looked up to see that the Rosario native had come back with a silver platter hoisted at her shoulder. One by one she made her way around the table and set cocktail glasses, the drinks colorless with an orange piece floating at the bottom. "Elaina, is this true?" he asked, assuming she'd heard the conversation. "That thirteen roses are considered unlucky?"
At first the woman gave him a strange look, but then, she laughed at realizing what he was referring to. She casually waved it off. "Eet acshually ees, buh I no zink anyzing of eet."
"I blame you, Antauri!" the blue male pointed across from him. "You got them!"
Antauri put his face in his hand and chuckled. "I didn't even spare a thought to it. I was in a hurry and all they had were dozens, two dozens, and singles. I knew it was customary to get an odd number of roses, and getting two dozen was going to be too large to act as a centerpiece. So I simply got a dozen and a single. It didn't even occur to me that made thirteen and what it could mean in other cultures. I was just content that I was a problem solver for the time being."
"Ees all-rye. Ees kind vous zink aboo' geeting zhem. Mos' Shuggazoo' dun care."
Nova sipped her cocktail, and an amazed expression came over her face. "Wow! I can't remember the last time I've had something this smooth. What is it?"
"Voodka."
"Vodka? You're serious?" The blonde female looked at her glass in awe. "Gosh, I didn't know vodka could taste like this. I usually hate vodka. I think I've found my new favorite drink."
"Merci," the fuschia-clad simian finished passing out the cocktails and went back into the kitchen. When she emerged she had another platter and began to serve the dish. "Munchies!" she announced in a singsong fashion, and over each plate she set a small rack of three cones, not even the size of one's thumb. They were filled with a pink substance and topped with leaves.
Otto clapped his hands. "They look like itty bitty ice cream cones!"
"Fee' free to star' eating vhen vous all serve." The female looked up towards her commander. "I dun zink we 'ave a 'ead of table zis evening." The other nodded in agreement.
The Hyperforce scientist bore a befuddled expression. "You mean you won't be joining us?"
"Chef does no' eat weez guests, Geebsoh." She replied, just as she served his portion. "No worry aboo' me. I 'ave been sampling foo' all day. I am fine." After she finished with the table, she spun around back to the kitchen. "Yo entrée be ou' shor'ly."
"Dang," Sparks said as she left. "This has got to be the tiniest appetizer I've ever had."
"This ain't tha appetizah!" Etta corrected. "This is tha pre-suppah cocktail. She jus' said tha first course would be out shor'ly."
"…No. She said the entrée was gonna be out shortly. Appetizer is the first course."
"Nah it ain't!" the teal woman cackled. "You Shuggas sure made thot one inta dog's dinnah! An entrée is the first course, or what you call the appetizer. What you call the entrée being the main course, is just not roight. Not only because thot's whot it means in French, but thot's whot eh means in everywhere else but here. Tha main course is either called tha main course, or plat principal in French. Tha only thing you got right was where dessert is, to no surprise."
"My thingy tastes funny!" Otto said, smacking his lips. "It tastes like wax!"
Nova slowly raised her eyebrow. "You sure that's not Gilson's lipstick?"
The engineer's eyes widened, and ever so slightly he stuck out his tongue and ran it over his lips. He grimaced, picked up his knife, and looked at his distorted reflection. Sure enough, Elaina's plum-pink makeup had rubbed off on his lips. He rapidly retrieved the cloth napkin from his lap and desperately scrubbed at his mouth.
On the other end of the table one could swear that Gibson was about to shoot himself in embarrassment of such a blatant disregard to table manners. To his right, Anna seemed to sense this. She made a silent gesture of sliding her hand under his and squeezing his palm reassuringly. The two sat for a moment, but the woman didn't release her grasp from his. The man somehow felt self-conscious when it lasted for longer than he had anticipated.
He was never quite sure the relationship he had with her, or what she might have thought of him. When they were first getting to know each other they would have many long talks, and began to do things such as get coffee or meet for lunch. At first it was casual, but then their relationship grew into companionship. Things were nice, but the mutual sense of awkwardness had slowly crept up on them, and their meetings gradually dissipated to every once in awhile. They were replaced with group functions with Etta, Elaina, or Antauri joining them, and in those they found themselves much more comfortable, therefore more enjoyable.
Back to what was happening now, the platonic and friendly gesture of holding her hand was peculiar. He felt silly and immature for feeling like that, but it didn't change. With a gulp, he retreated his hand and finished off his pre-dinner snack.
Soon enough Elaina came in once more, humming to the piano music played in the background, and the first course began. She removed the racks and the cocktail glasses and replaced them with a small, square dish of two oysters, stuffed and drizzled with a small dot of sauce on the side. She also went through and poured small amounts of wine to go with the meal, and all was silent as everyone ate. Everyone was done rather quickly, and that was when the second course followed, a yellow soup with a brown slab of meat served with a completely different wine. Then the third came, one of salmon and cucumbers with a white wine.
It was apparent at this point that some of the guests were confused. Each meal that was served was tiny, not even enough to feed a child. Of course every one of them was no less than wonderful, but it was annoying that it wasn't long before one's plate was empty. Then time would be given to sip the accompanying wine and talk amongst one another, but this only made the food feel even less filling. Mainly Sparks and Otto seemed to be the ones to feel this way, either that, or everyone else was good at hiding it.
Directly across from them, Novo was sat, whom which the pilot decided to strike up a conversation. "I feel like we're in a gag comic," he said with a snicker. "Because she keeps giving us new plates and I'm still hungry."
The male combatant made a chuckle and finished his wine. "Well, I can't say I don't agree with you. All I know is she got up at, like, three AM this morning to make all this."
"Three AM?" The crimson male echoed. "Why the heck was she up at three AM?"
"Beats me. Ask Etta."
"Etta?" Sparks craned his head as far as table manners would let him go. He didn't continue until he saw the other acknowledge him. "Why was Gilson up at three AM?"
"Pass. Tha only way I knew was 'cause I 'eard her get up this mornin' an' she yelled out somefing in French 'cause she stubbed her toe. I went out an' she's sittin' there with 'er fancy cashmere robe, an' it been stained 'cause she tripped an' she 'ad a mug o' coffee an' it splashed on 'er an' she wos cursin' up a storm in French, or at least I fink so. I fought I swept in on accident 'cause she's na'torious fo sleepin' in real late like. She said it was three, an' at first I fought she meant three PM, but then I knows thot Elaina uses Agg time, not Shugga time, an' then I asked her why she wos up an' she said 'cause she had ta cook. Thot's awl I know."
"Oh, yeah," Sparkey chuckled. "And then it seemed like she was doing things to make it all week. Doing all this stuff in the kitchen, chopping stuff, smoking stuff, and we'd come in and ask what she was doing and she'd say 'Making dinner.' Then we'd ask her what was for dinner and she said 'You'll find out on Saturday.'"
"Oh, oh!" Anna joined with the story. "And she had all of these things in the refrigerator of meats or things that were soaking or whatever, in these glass dishes that took up all this space. And on each one she had a sticky note that said, 'Laissez-faire!'" Everyone at the table lightly chuckled at the comment, at least, but a few of them were harshly laughing, as if it was some reference that meant a lot more than it seemed.
It was in observing the company wasn't laughing as harshly that Antauri stepped in with a curt explanation. "'Laissez-faire,' in French, means 'Hands off' or 'Leave it be.' The reason it is amusing is because the term laissez-faire is most widely known for being used in the context of government. Such as, you could say Shuggazoom is a laissez-faire government, meaning a hands-off government when it comes to social issues. The phrase originated when Rosarian peasants became tired of having their king and government dictating their personal lives. That phrase was their slogan when they revolted, and has been coined since."
The slate female continued to giggle. "She is so witty. I love her."
Nova snickered, "So can I yell out that phrase when Sparks takes the TV remote?"
"Indeed you can!" her commander agreed. "As long as it doesn't become violent."
"But didn't you say the peasants revolted, which usually means violence…?"
The female engineer cackled. "Nova does have a point."
Elaina entered with another course just as they least expected it. This one was hot with scallops and shrimp dressed to look absolutely delicious. As she had done many times before, she swapped the old plates with the new ones, switched out the wine, and this time removed some of the used glasses.
When she came to Antauri, she muttered, "Woo' vous like meat er substitute zis time?"
"Oh, I suppose it's a special occasion, and from what I hear, it would be an insult to not sample what you worked very hard on. I can make an exception." The onyx male paused to let her replace his old plate, then observed as she poured a dark pink beverage into his glass. "Might I ask what the wine was? The one in the previous course?"
"Eh…" the other thought for a moment. "'76 Gura-Fran Moscato."
"Ah. I was very impressed with that one. Can I assume it's imported?"
"Oui. Lillithian. I usually vah-ree picky weez white wine becau' a lot of zem ah not very bol'. Zhere ah a lot of moscatos I lye, buh some of zem, zey ah too sweet. Zhere is also a sparkling version of eet zhat I absolutely adoh. I bring vous bottle, no?"
The meal went on as scheduled, but they soon found the four courses to begin with were just the beginning. Everything from meats such as lamb or beef, to things that couldn't even be recognized, were set out for them, and it seemed to be endless. Even Sparks and Otto were quickly beginning to feel full.
As he watched Elaina set down another plate, he groaned and put his hand over his face. "No, please, no more…" he grumbled, as if helpless. Had he been looking he would have seen the woman's fur had bristled with anger, her gaze becoming livid and her chest puffing out. "The food's great!" he said. "I don't have to season it or anything. But dang, go ahead and fatten us up to eat, why don't you?" In understanding, the fuming stance she had subconsciously made dissipated in an instant. A mere smile and a shake of her head followed. When he looked to his next course, a black and dark red dish with a white, frothy substance, he made a face as if it were food for aliens. "Gilson, why does my food have rabies?"
"Ees soy, ma cher."
The pilot nodded. "And what have you been feeding us, exactly?"
The sky blue female gave a chuckle as she rounded the table. "Een Rosario, we 'ave saying. 'If vous like ze foo', do no' ask wha eet is.'"
Anna grinned pleasantly. "Let us rest in saying the food is perfectly safe for consumption."
A disturbed expression crossed Sparks's face. "…Is that seriously a phrase in Rosario?" he gave a forced chuckle. "Or are you just messing with me?"
"A lee-tle beet of bozh." The makeshift waitress gave a tsk as she poured wine into the male engineer's glass. "What is wrong, Otto? Vous loo' seeck."
"I'm just getting really full," the green male muttered.
"Oh, do no despair. One moe itty bitty cour' after zis, an' off to dessert. And zhen, prwesants!"
For comedic effect, the golden male waited for his teammate to leave before asking the question, "So, Sparkey, how much dessert did we have last time Gilson did a dinner like this?"
In sensing the scheme, the female pilot gave a sly smile and looked directly in Otto and Sparks's direction. "Oh, well, there was chocolate, ice cream and mints, fruit and cheese… Four courses, I believe. And it is their birthday, so Annie made a cake." She specifically turned her head so she was as close to her date as she could be. "Oh, and you know that old tradition that children had to eat everything on their plate? Well, guess where that originated from?" She exclaimed with a foolishly happy expression, "And we totally don't have to season the food! Good thing, too! 'Cause if you season this food, Gilson will smack you."
"She's a snotty Rosie!" The tone in which Etta said this indicated that it wasn't an insult, so much as it was simply an address. She shook her head and paused to partake in her dish. Afterwards she laid her head on Antauri's shoulder, snuggling into him as if she were a kitten. "Ya blokes always make funna 'Tauri and Gibson fo being so knowledgeable an' prissy when it comes ta etiquette an' mannahs, buh who's laughin' now? They roight gentlemen, yes they ah."
"That's very flattering, Etta," Antauri gave her a warm, albeit slightly awkward smile. He had expected for her to release from her position, but instead she stayed there, closing her eyes and humming. Due to her being so close to him, he wasn't comfortable with eating, and allowed her several moments to stop before he said, "Um, I would like to eat before my food gets cold."
"Naw, but you smells real good."
"I would like everyone to imagine a gender-reversal in this situation." Novo boldly interrupted, a blank and perhaps even patronizing expression. "Just imagine, Antauri snuggling into Etta's shoulder and saying," he lowered his voice to mimic the Hyperforce commander. "'Hey, Etta, you smell good.'" He frowned as everyone immediately began to laugh at the thought of something so ridiculous. "All of us would think he'd be a no-good sleazebag, right? But when Etta or any little lady does it, it's flattering." He then put on a curt expression and went back to his plate. "I just wanted to offer that bit of insight."
Nova put her face in her hands. "You can impersonate Antauri way too well."
"I woul'n't mind 'Tauri tellin' me I smells good," the teal female giggled.
"Then allow me to respond with your native dialect." The combatant cleared his throat. "Ya keep ya knickahs to yerself ya wee li'le HAH-LET." He allowed the laughter to erupt and then die down before going on. "I swear, I have listened to Etta talk for so long now, that if someone put a gun to my head and told me to go to Agness and talk and walk like an Agg and not let on that I wasn't from there, I would live! 'Cause I can speak Agg, darn it!" He reached for his wine glass, but before he sipped, an idea came to his head. He put on a charming smile with coy eyes as he leaned back in his seat. "Hey, Sparkey," he said with his Antauri-like voice and a suggestive wag of his eyebrow. "You look good in that dress."
Sparkey completely lost her composure, even snorted a occasionally. Despite protocol, she slapped at the table and put her head down. "That's not funny!" she cried.
"Why is that so funny?" the crimson male beside her held a shocked expression.
Novo smirked. "Sparkey knows. Novo knows. We are the only people that need know."
The Hyperforce combatant, on the other hand, nearly spat out her sip of wine and put her face into her hands. "Oh, God," she whined. "I'm gonna have nightmares, now…"
Sparks cackled. "Get him drunk enough and those nightmares might be reality, sister!"
"Why would that be a nightmare?"
The table went silent, and all eyes were on Anna. Some were stunned, some were amused. Immediately she shrunk in her seat as if wishing to be an armadillo and roll away. She put her hands over her face and shook her head. "That came out completely wrong…"
The female pilot pointed at her. "Too late! You said it!"
"Well, it would be like if Antauri started acting like Sparks! Or if Sparks somehow got Antauri's voice! And I don't have nightmares of either of them!"
"So you have fantasies, then?"
The commander halfway gasped and squealed at the golden male's comment. "NO."
"That proves it!" Sparkey shook her head. "Look at 'er, all squeaky and blushing."
The jade-green eyed man snickered. "Yeah, Annie's a man eater. I know she looks all sweet and innocent and that none of you believe me, but Annie's a man. Eater."
"I am not!"
"You have coffee with Antauri, wine with Gibson, dinner with Sparks, lunch with me, and errands with Otto," Novo listed as if it were memorized, then concluded in singing, "Maneater!"
Otto giggled. "I thought you said she was a ninja! She even jumped me the other day!"
"She is a ninja man eater disguised as a nineteen fifties housewife."
The slate female got a venomous look in her eyes, and in spite turned to her pilot. "Excuse me then, why were you laughing when Novo was wooing you in Antauri's voice, hm?!"
"'Cause Antauri has a sexy voice. I won't lie." The pink female replied, shamelessly, too. "And I have told him that to his face. I would listen to that man read the alphabet. And if you, Annie, even try to say anything contrary to that, then you. Lie."
"Whelp, I guess it'll be easy for ya to get Sparkey a present next time," Novo addressed the man being talked about and mimicked holding a recorder in his hand. "A. B. C. D. E. F. G. H. I. J…" He pressed an imaginary button on his palm and then pantomimed giving it to the woman across from him. "Here you go, Sparkey." He rubbed his fist on his chest as if polishing his fingers, and gave a proud smile. "I made it myself."
"O-Oh!" Completely oblivious to the conversation, Otto picked up a shining, clean fork. "Gilson's giving us new forks each course, isn't she? 'Cause I keep trying to work my way in with the forks like Antauri said and then I keep ending up with a new one…"
"Indeed. Because if she set out all of the silverware for each course she wouldn't have nearly enough table space," the Powersquad commander replied in a curt manner. "How about the wine? Does everyone like the wine sampling menu? All of them you can get on Shuggazoom."
"I really liked the muscadine!" the Hyperforce engineer nodded rapidly, and didn't seem to notice the surprised glances that came his way. "It's always been my favorite. I don't know where it comes from or anything else, but I really liked it with the beef. Or whatever it was."
Gibson stared at the other, quite surprised. His naïve teammate had actually said something intelligent for once. He exchanged a glance with his leader, who was equally as impressed.
"Ain't that funny, ya like whatcha know. Muscadine is ac'tally native ta Shuggazoom!" Etta piped up. "'Cause it thrives in ya God awful heat, but on other planets it's too cool for 'em. Used ta make a lot o' ports an' dessert wines, but this one's ac'ually a table wine variety."
"How did you– " the scientist was still in a state of shock, and was second guessing if he was hallucinating. "How did you recognize it was muscadine, Otto?"
The green male shrugged. "Dunno! I can't recognize other wines for the life of me, but I always recognize muscadine. I think by the aftertaste; I'm not sure."
"Ah, oui, muscadine," Elaina's voice floated from the kitchen as she returned with another platter and bottle of wine, starting with him to flip the course. "A vah-ree 'omely wine, eef I do say so myself, buh small piece of gol'. You 'ave wines 'ere zhat can rival zhat of even Rosario, an' we ah wine capital, no? Buh I love eh becau' it wah bol', dry, but no' beeter lye many ozher ones I 'ave. I felt lye eet woul' be criminal to no' 'ave Shuggazoo' wine at a day of ze birth party with natives to Shuggazoo, no? Ze land, eet must be lace' weez ze meal."
Otto smacked his lips, not having a clue about the deep meanings of the things she said, only a vague idea. He gave a happy smile. "Well, I can't talk that fancy, and it's even worse you're better with words, because you're not from here. So I don't know how to reply to that. Um…" his eyed batted and he bore an almost childlike expression. "You're really smart, the wine's really nice, at least I think, but I don't drink wine that much, and your cooking is awesome! I thought you'd only be good at croissants!"
Just in the moment that his blue teammate had gained more respect for his intelligence, it was gone instantly. If he could, he would have slammed his head against the table or the wall. His fingers dug into his pants to the point it was painful. Yes, there was nothing he could have done to control or prevent it, and it wouldn't make himself look any more or less intellectual. But when Otto, or other members of the team made mistakes like that in the Powersquad's company, especially when he was present, he was embarrassed for all of them.
Yet instead of a roll of the eyes or a scoff, Elaina only gave a lovely smile and a dip of her head as she finished serving the table with Sparks as the last. "Well, I am vah-ree glad zhat I can may zis occasion special fo' vous, my love. Ees my grea' pleasure. An' I am vah-ree flatter."
The next courses came out just as they had been predicted. It seemed that in the very moment their stomachs would settle from being overwhelmingly full, yet another course would come. When it was announced they were having their last item, a collective sigh of relief, and perhaps a bit of disappointment, was silently given. When it was over, none of the guests had the slightest clue what would follow. All eyes subconsciously looked to Anna because she had been inadvertently leading things aside from the meal. Just before someone was about to ask, yet again the Powersquad scientist emerged from the kitchen with her platter, but this time, the platter was filled with drinks. They were Irish coffee glasses with a warm brown drink garnished with a cinnamon stick and orange peel.
"Oo, thot looks nummy!" Etta made an excited clap of her hands as the drink was gently placed in front of her. "Whot es it?"
"Ees Pomegranate Tuddy." The sky blue female smiled. "May weez fresh dah-jhelling tea, branzee, an' pomegranate liqueur."
"Geez, Gilson," Nova chuckled and shook her head as she was served. "You trying to get us drunk? We've already had a few cocktails and we've been sipping wine all evening!"
"An' zis eh pos' suppah co'tail." The chef curtly replied. "Las' one for now, I pwomise."
"If we've all been drinking…" the blonde female's eyebrows furrowed. "Then how're we gonna get home?"
"I 'ave no' been drinking!" Elaina announced enthusiastically. "I dry vous!"
"No you will not." The blue male protested, his eyes wide with rebuke but a half smile on his face. "I would rather take my chances driving illegally over the limit, getting arrested, and spending a night in prison, than be in a car with a perfectly sober you behind the wheel."
Curiously enough, Otto was the first one to start hysterically laughing at the statement, nearly spitting out the initial sip of his drink. Tears immediately ran down his eyes and the laughter was so hard that it came out in wheezes instead of actual sounds. People at the table didn't know whether to look at the scientist or the engineer of the Hyperforce.
"There– There was this one time…" the green male wiped his eyes and tried to calm his laughter. "There was this one time that– that Anna called Gibson and asked him to teach Elaina how to drive, because Elaina had to get a driver's license. And I guess Anna thought Gibson's the best driver out of all of us, and him being strict with the rules and stuff would help. Ah– And I was in the backseat…" Just at the thought of it he burst into his intense, silent laughter again and couldn't finish the story for himself.
Gibson groaned at the mere thought. "I saw my life, flashing before my eyes."
"'Ey, now," Elaina put a fist on her hip. "Zhat mi' all be true, buh laissez-moi vous dire {let me say this.} Een all my time on Rosario, I neever go' een accident."
The other's face dropped as if he were shocked, but in all actuality he was being sarcastic. He grasped on the edge of the table he leaned forward, his eyebrows raising. "…On your scooter," he nodded, an agape smile of mockery emerging. "You can ride scooters on the sidewalk, Elaina." He shook his head. "You don't even need a license, to ride a scooter."
The woman muttered. "Tais-toi. {Shut up.}"
"I was prepared to put that all aside to teach you, but instead you decide to argue with me on everything I said to you. Well, then, if you already knew so much about how to drive on Shuggazoom streets, then why did you require my instruction? Oh yes, because you, indeed, do not know, and nearly got everyone killed."
Otto had finally calmed himself down after recollecting on the incident. "Those two were yelling and screaming like a married couple fighting over directions! They would stop in the middle of the road just so they could argue. And Elaina nearly hit a speed limit sign and then Gibson had to yank the wheel from her! Another time they came to a stop sign and she wasn't stopping because no one was there and then Gibson threw his leg over the armrest and slammed the brake. And he had to take his seatbelt off, so he face-planted into the dashboard! Ah– And then down the road Elaina did something, I forget what, that made Gibson go completely crazy. He threw the gear out on her, snatched the parking brake on and kept screaming 'Get out of the car! Get out of the car!' He got out and opened the driver's door and the two screamed at each other at the tops of their lungs for like, five minutes straight. And I swear he would've pulled her out of there himself if she didn't finally get fed up with him and quit!"
Elaina put on a corny smile. "Ees okay now, Geebsoh an' I steel love each ozher. An' I 'ave 'ad my per-meet fo' fi' monz now, so…"
The blue male put on a fake, dry laugh, then ended it with a sharp, "No. Because in the UPC, not only does one drive on the left side of the road, but traffic signals are a mere suggestion."
Etta laughed nearly manically. "Good fing I learned mwy driving from Spahkey!"
"On a side note," the female mentioned slowly interrupted. "Love the toddies, girl."
The makeshift waitress put on a friendly smile, swinging the skirt of her dress and said in a cooing way, "I puh cinnamon in eh, jus' fo vous! Becau' I love vous!"
"You love me," the pink female echoed, as if agreeing. "Everyone does. And obviously everyone loves your drinks so much they forget that we hired a limousine service."
"I did forget that…" Nova snorted and put her face in her palm. "I'm a moron."
The teal female grinned, "But at least we gots a good sto'ey out of it! An' then not o'ly won't ya 'ave to worry about gettin' 'ome, but you can jus' get moe plastered in tha cah!"
Novo snapped his fingers, goofily grinning. "Because hangovers are the best birthday gifts!"
"Speaking of birthday gifts," Anna cleared her throat, then clasped and pointed her hands in front of her in a perfectly lady-like fashion. "After we're all finished with our lovely after supper cocktails, I'd like for us to adjourn to the living room, where we'll start with presents and then some cake. The living room is the one without the television. You remember?"
"Wait, what?" Sparks gawked at her in disbelief. "Presents? I thought the dinner and the movie– " he chuckled and shook his head. "I thought the dinner and the play were the presents!"
"Me, too!" his female teammate added, "And I think I'm way too full to eat cake."
"Ah, those were just the events to do for the day. Of course you have presents! And the night is still young, it's at least half past seven!"
Nova's voice lowered. "You're telling me we've been sitting at this table for three hours?"
"Well, yeah," the pink simian nodded. "I mean, think about it. We got here a little past four. About a dozen courses at fifteen minutes apart makes three hours right there."
"Man, I didn't even…" the Hyperforce combatant bent her elbow behind her and put her wrist on the armrest. "I would've never guessed. I am just not used to eating this way!"
"Ya nice and full now, Sparks?" Novo leaned back and drummed his fingers against the table, biting his lip in a facetious smile. The pilot shook his head and rolled his eyes, though a snicker of defeat was on his face. "Otto?" he raised his chin towards the other, who had barely mustered to sip the tea mix in front of him. Then he turned his gaze towards the two more sophisticated members of the team, and merely laughed as he saw their expressions. "Aw, just look at Antauri and Gibson, all smilin' and stuff, like the cheeky bastards they are. They're like," he leaned back and made a scoffing, spitting noise. "Pft, yeah, I totally knew it. I'm skinny, so I can fit moe food than you. I got my crap together. Whada you got? Huh? Whada you got?"
"Well," Antauri nodded and raised his glass. "The supper was absolutely magnificent. I'm sure that none of us could have asked for anything better. I wanted to see if before we leave we could properly thank Elaina for the meal."
"Gigi!" Anna called, met with no answer. She straightened her dress. "Oh, she's probably busy cleaning up and expecting us to leave. Allow me to excuse myself and fetch her."
Her date arose to pull out her seat as custom, but then another idea came to him as he observed her drink. "Oh, no, you've barely touched your cocktail. Allow me." The other opened her mouth to say something, but he had already rounded the end and was heading for the kitchen. She shrugged, as there was no use in arguing with him, anyway.
When Gibson entered the kitchen, a plethora of smells overtook his nose, so many, that he didn't know what to make of it. Everything from the aroma of raw meat to pungent chopped and cooked spices to freshly shaved chocolate and mint. Individually they might have been wonderful, but everything mixed together was rather unpleasantly pungent for one's nose.
On the other hand, the acting chef was wearing the full body apron she had sported before, hunched over amid loading the dishwasher. Without even looking, she said, "Annie, je suis encore tout nettoyer et je vous ai dit que je serai là pour vous rejoindre dès que je peux. Il est difficile de croire qu'ils sont tous fait avec leurs cocktails. Ne vous inquiétez pas pour moi, je vais sortir sous peu, allez simplement les divertir. {Annie, I am still cleaning everything up and I told you I'll be out to join you as soon as I can. I have a hard time believing they're all done with their cocktails. Don't worry about me, I'll be out shortly, just go entertain them.}"
The scientist tried to think of some sort of snappy way to reply, but nothing came to him. He thought what to say before replying. "Oh, non, nous n'avons pas fini avec nos boissons. Et nous n'avons pas besoin de se divertir, que nous sommes occupés déjà. {Oh, no, we're not done with our drinks. And we need not be entertained, as we are occupied already.}"
The woman's eyes widened in slight surprise and it took her a moment to realize his presence. When she faced him, she took a knife from her apron's belt and pointed it at him, twisting her wrist. "Vous n'êtes pas censé être ici. {You are not supposed to be here.}"
The man made a small laugh, then heard the sound of a delicate "Mew!" come from beside him. On the kitchen peninsula, none other than the Powersquad's dear Birman, Sapphire, was perched. She was as elegant as could be with her long, luxurious coat and the eyes that lived up to her name. She sported a collar made of white lace, crystal studs and pink cloth roses. Seeing this made him chuckle. Every time he saw the pet, she had on a different neckpiece, and he wondered how much the Powersquad invested just to dress up their precious cat. She sat and looked at him expectantly, her head even titling to the side. The simian smirked and gave her a brief scratch on her head before turning his attention towards the other.
"Peut-être. Mais– {Perhaps. But–}" The blue male suddenly felt a quick pain on his finger. He snapped his gaze towards the feline, whose opened mouth had recoiled. She began to purr and came to the very edge of the counter so she could rub herself against his chest.
"Mew!" she insisted, as if saying, "I'm here! Pet me!"
Gibson sighed and relinquished another brief scratch on her head, then put his hand on her side to gently slide her away from him. Of course, she came back, and this time she was so bold as to stand on her haunches and paw at his chest. He groaned in annoyance.
"Aw, vous pee-ting Saphir?"
Now he felt obligated, so he gave his best smile and stroked the cat on her back, even being friendly enough to scoop her into his arms. "But of course! How could one resist such a sheen, lush coat? Such a beautiful queen you have."
The woman hummed, continued about her work in the kitchen. "She loves to be loved." As she tossed knives into the sink, she switched the subject. "So vous came in 'ere for reasoh, no?"
The other blinked for a moment, then rapidly nodded his head. "Oh, yes! In honor of you making us such a splendid meal for the evening, Antauri would like to propose a toast."
The female gave him a blank look for a moment, then made a confused snarl. She hacked out her r's as the French did. "Hreally?" He nodded. "Well, zen." She clutched her chest and the sound of ripping Velcro led to her wadding up her apron and throwing it on the counter. "Allons-y. {Let's go.}" Gibson nodded and gently placed Sapphire down before he turned to exit the kitchen. Startling him, the woman gasped and cried, "Geebsoh! Geebsoh! Way! Way, way, way, way!" He was barely able to turn on his heel before she was at him with a lint roller in her grasp. She tsked as she swiftly ran it up and down his chest. "Vous jus' 'eld Saphir, an' 'ave 'er 'air all over vous. Hru-een a silk suit weez kitty 'air, vous crazy man."
She nodded in thought. "Zhose ah vah-ree rare, vah-ree 'ard to fin'. Vous 'ad to order it, no? Zhen go to tailor an' get it adjusted? An' zhen go back to tailor to get adjustments adjusted?" They exchanged light chuckles as she took his sleeve to de-fur it. "I knew man, ee ashually 'ad wool allerghee. An' 'ee was no' going to wear cotteensuit, bleh, or God forbid, polyester. So all ee's suits, zhey were silk, an' ee always 'ad to custom order zhem." She ripped the paper from the roller and went to his other arm. "Anyway, turn arou'." She spun her finger to demonstrate this, then upon inspecting his back and perfecting it, she grasped his shoulders and spun him around. "Ohkay. Goo'. Now vous may go ou'." She spun around and took a furry pink boa to wrap it around her neck and arms. When she glanced back, Gibson had a pleasant expression on his face, one she hadn't seen from him often. Her expression became curious. "Eh… Geebsoh?"
The scientist made a sigh and pondered if he should say anything. As a regular person he was nervous to say it, but logically he knew compliments were taken differently in her culture. Besides, she complimented him all the time. "To…" he swallowed the words, then spoke them quickly. "To say that you look dazzling this evening would be a gross understatement."
"Naw, merci. Vous ah too kin', Geebsoh."
And that was Part 1 of 2. Hope you liked it! Please Read & Review!
