Quentin exhaled slowly, clearing his mind of all thought as best he could. It was easy to do out here on the docks- the weather was nice and mild, the sky cloudless and blue overhead, and the water below was calm and still. He was sitting in the middle of the platform, 'criss-cross-apple-sauce', as his kindergarten teacher would have said. Around him, his fellow campers balanced themselves on brightly-colored levitation balls. Some were better at it than others. Phoebe, Clem, and Crystal were able to keep themselves upright with little difficulty, but poor Elton looked like he could topple over into the lake at any minute.

The only one not on a ball was himself. Not that he couldn't call one, of course. Rolling and floating on a ball came as naturally to him as scratching and beat-boxing. He'd actually been thinking that it was getting too easy, and that it was about time for him to take off the training wheels and try to levitate without one. Like Agent Vodello, floating at the end of the dock and looking as comfortable in the air as she would have been in a big, comfy chair. She hadn't said anything about his grounded state, but he liked to think that she knew what he was up to and was sending him good vibes.

He exhaled and focused on his good mood, on those nice, chill feelings that allowed him to call his levitation ball. He closed his eyes and took another breath. The image of bubbles came to his mind unbidden, as though etched onto the back of his eyelid. Was it because he was surrounded by all these rad people bouncing on their own bubble-like levitation balls? Maybe.

The bubbles reminded him of when his Grandma had taken him out to dinner at a fancy French restaurant, shortly before he had left for camp. Grandma had sweet-talked the waiter into pouring him a glass of Champagne, his first taste of alcohol. The bubbles, tiny and pale, had risen up from the bottom of the glass, gathering at the top before fizzing out.

He focused all of his mental energy on picturing those bubbles flowing upwards gracefully, a constant stream of them going higher and higher. He felt a mellow, pleasant sensation spreading throughout his brain, and then his body rose, slowly but steadily, off of the slightly damp dock. He kept his eyes shut and pretended that he was one of those bubbles as he levitated, only opening them when his mind could raise his body no further.

He was up about three feet above the dock, still in that cross-legged position. It was weird, sitting in the air like this- it felt like there was something under him, holding him up, but there wasn't, was there? Better not to think about the exact mechanics of his powers, he'd probably fall if he thought too hard about anything right now.

Next to him, Phoebe grinned as she balanced herself on one foot. "You did it, Quentin!"

You're doing real good, darling. Agent Vodello's kind, soft voice flowed into his head gently. She wasn't looking at him; her attention was on Elton, still struggling to keep himself on his ball. But she turned her head towards him for a second, giving him a quick smile. Keep it up and the only limit will be the sky.

Quentin blushed at the praise, feeling himself rise a little higher.