Title: Just Super
Author: rijane
Rating: Um, K, that's a nice little rating
Spoilers: Undetermined time in the future
Author's Note: This is just a bit of crazy fluff.

"Mick! Are you coming?" Beth's voice echoed through the halls of the apartment in a reverse of their usual roles.

Mick hung his head, the weight of the night pushing against him. With a sigh, he stood and started down the stairs. A wolf whistle pierced his sensitive ears.

"Nice, very nice."

"Beth, this is-"

"Fun," she barked. "I've done enough of the vamp parties and stake outs and you watching me eat. This is going-" he reached Beth at the bottom of the steps and she poked him in the chest to emphasize each word. "To. Be. Fun. Where are the glasses?"

Without a word, Mick dug in his suit pocket and pulled out the black frames. She snagged them and lowered the stems over his ears. They itched.

"Perfect," she sighed. She gave her own little twirl. "What do you think?"
The brunette wig with its familiar waves was a little disturbing in their similarity to the other woman in his life, but the vintage dress suit, the seamed stockings, the pill box hat brought the very modern Beth back to his time. The press pass, the steno pad. All she needed was a little rescuing to complete the image.

"Up, up and away, is what I think," he grabbed her and swooped her into his arms. She leaned in for a kiss, smearing her perfectly applied red lipstick.

Her hand moved against the tweed of his suit pants, trailing her hand up and down.

"Quite the man of steel, aren't you?" Beth murmured, pulling his tie and opening the buttons at his collar. "I thought you couldn't fly."

"I think I can make you soar," Mick edged them to the couch. For a second, he thought Beth would surrender.

"You're playing dirty!" she awkwardly hopped out of his grip with a clatter of high heels. "We're going to this costume party. I used to enjoy Halloween, damn it, and I will again. And if you don't behave yourself, next year we're dressing as Dracula and Mina Harker."

Mick sighed, resigned to his fate. He grabbed the old fedora Beth had pulled from some dark corner of his apartment.

Beth leaned back in for tragically chaste kiss and played with his Oxford shirt, hiding the blue spandex that has revealed itself during his escape gambit. She rebuttoned it and straightened the tie, leaving just a peek of the fabric beneath, and marched to the door, expecting him to follow.

"And, Mick," she called. "I can't wait to see the tights."