If he tried hard enough, perhaps he could will himself into non-existence?
Miles sighed, listening to the twin whispers beyond the curtain of the changing room before him.
"I don't think this one fits, Miss Amy."
"It's fine, I can always take it in for you."
"But-"
"Come on, just stay next to me."
Miles sighed, laying his overwhelmingly dull magazine onto the overwhelmingly dull chair as he looked up to the overwhelmingly dull curtain and put on an interested smile as two overwhelming girls emerged. The ornate gowns that they were clad in didn't seem significantly different in any capacity to the other fancy attire he'd seen over the last two hours and thirty seven minutes, except that this time Amy stood close to Cream with one hand behind her back, presumably holding it in place.
"Ta da!" Amy grinned, though neither gave a twirl this time as Cream held her arms firmly to her sides, a nervous smile of her own plastered across her lips.
"... Looks good!" Miles gave a thumbs up. Safe response.
And Amy, once more, looked disappointed.
"You say that every time!"
"Well it's true." Miles shrugged. If he could bland his way into being ineligible for having opinions entirely, including on any future shopping trips that might occur for the rest of time, that would be a win in his book. Girls were best handled from a nice safe distance, he'd concluded. "All thirty seven outfits so far have looked very nice." He nodded.
"And what if we came out wearing grocery bags, hm?" Amy scowled.
"Haven't you heard that it's not the wrapping paper that matters-" Miles put on a smile. "But the gift inside?"
He'd have been surprised if she had, she'd only picked up the magazine he'd stolen it from today, after all.
Amy opened her mouth and shut it a moment later with a frown, while Cream raised a thoughtful finger to her lips.
"But Mister Tails, didn't you really like Miss Amy's glasses when-"
"Dress is slipping, Cream." Miles shot down her sentence before it could do more damage.
"Eeep!" Cream retreated backwards into the dressing room with haste.
Amy scowled, red faced. Her vision problems were a matter of sworn secrecy between the three of them, after all.
"This isn't over, fox!"
Miles had to admit the gown had a nice dramatic touch to it as the hedgehog swirled around to stomp back behind the curtain. Hushed whispering erupted from within. He collected the magazine with a sigh.
It wasn't as though he was entirely unaware of clothing. Amy had even coerced him into modelling a few outfits over the years and thoroughly drilled the basics into his head through sheer repetition. She had a keen eye for trends and picking out designs and palettes that suited her well, skills she'd liberally employed on Cream's behalf today. And Miles held a certain appreciation for the type of practical, sporty clothing they more typically wore, especially clothes with lots of pockets. But generally the magazine was right, what mattered was the person wearing the clothing and, given mobian anatomy, it didn't really much matter if they weren't wearing clothing either.
Sure he- Miles glanced up to see Cream, wearing the dress she came in with, scurry from the dressing room and race off between the aisles.
Hm.
Sure he had noticed girls tended to dress "warmer" than boys, especially in the chilly winter months that bothered him more or less exclusively on his delicate, furless, nose. But was this a case of habituation? Knuckles didn't much like the cold, after all, he generally kept Angel Island flying squarely around the equator to keep it balmy all year round. But Sonic dealt with cold just fine with fur just as thin and with far less coverage than the echidna, probably a necessary adaptation given that he raced fast enough for wind chill to make a mild autumn day feel like the depths of winter.
Cream crept back into the changing room, a large black bundle in her arms. Miles raised an eyebrow as whispering broke out anew.
Like they didn't have enough clothes already? He was exhausted just sitting here, and he was expending far fewer calories as far as he could tell. But they'd come out, show him outfits, Amy would look disappointed and she'd wander back inside with Cream, occasionally running out to acquire more sacrifices to her endless lust for apparel that had already consumed most of the limited selection available for mobians. What next? Underwear? He shook his head, swinging feet that didn't touch the ground on the oversized chair as he started to skim through another of Amy's magazines, this one mostly pictures of people punching one another.
… Maybe he should make her a proper computer for her gift? With a printer so she could print off her own pictures of violence, or clothes, or whatever it was she got out of these things. Far more efficient. Probably print out all those photos of Sonic she had, too…
Nah, probably a bad idea then. Her bedroom was full of enough Sonic stuff that it was already stepping dangerously close to featuring a shrine with his used toothbrush and a blood vial. Certainly could do without featuring seven terabytes of candid camera of his best friend.
Hm… Perhaps a polaroid style camera though? She liked photography, he could maybe set her up with one that produced animated pictures? She liked sending those to him as well. It was good to have a gift that suited someone's hobbies... Might mean she came around more often too.
No, that might drive off Sonic more than usual. He needed to be careful, he didn't want to mess up the delicate balance that had only just settled between them. He quite enjoyed his lab not getting trashed by an angry hedgehog with a hammer on a regular basis. He might not be willing to go so far as to interfere with his friends' stagnant relationship with one another, but he could certainly do his best to avoid destabilising things himself. Passive observation, safe responses, it wasn't a shadow's place to try and change things, that was asking for trouble.
"Oh, Mister Prower?" A lilting duet sent a shiver up the back of his neck. A grim portent of things to come.
The curtain opened, and the pair stepped out, not in bright festive party colours, and thankfully not in underwear, which he was even less qualified to hold an opinion on, but in dark, modest attire more suited to a library, or… little small in Cream's case, perhaps a school? He didn't really have much experience in the subj- oh sweet Yamaguchi they were both wearing glasses.
"Mister Prower, I was wondering if you could... help me with Miss Rose's lesson?" Cream approached first, hands folded demurely in front of her as she peered up at him over the rim of her glasses, long eyelashes fluttering.
He attempted to form a coherent sentence and failed against a combination of surprise, fear and girls.
"Very good, Miss Cream, if you will take a seat next to Mister Prower?" Amy snapped a ruler on her gloved palm, grinning wickedly.
Cream clambered up onto the oversized chair, her fluffy tail swishing with poorly concealed malice as she dropped down to sit on both his tails at once.
"Excellent. Now, Mister Prower, if we shall begin the lesson?" Amy leaned in, pushing her glasses, price tag still on the lenses, up her nose with a middle finger.
"Buh?" Mission failed, safe distance lost. He could run for the entrance if he could throw Cream off, he might splatter a few humans but acceptable losses-
"Yes. This will be on the test. Now!" Amy slapped her ruler again. "When a young lady grants you the privilege of accompanying her on the sacred ritual of clothes shopping, your duty is to what?"
Cream's hand shot up.
"Yes, Miss Cream?"
"Is it to tell them how pretty they are?"
"Yes! Ten points to house Rabbit! To tell them how cute they are, and what about the outfit-" She pushed her glasses up again. "Makes them look cute. Do you understand, Mister Prower?"
Miles let out a wordless meep as some of his internal screaming sneaked out his lips.
"What's that?" She hooked the ruler under his chin with the practised grace of someone with a lifetime of experience in wielding blunt instruments.
"Yes." The flustered fox nodded numbly, brain well into the final stages of overheating at this point. He'd have hidden behind his tails already if Cream hadn't sat on them.
"Good boy." Amy's smile turned bright again. "Now why don't you give it a try?"
"Uh. Um. You. You... both look… great." Each word came out quieter than the last.
"Mmmhm. And can you tell the class what about our outfits makes us look great?" Amy's eyes sparkled with mischief.
"Yes… No. Everything. I... I don't know. Please have mercy." He covered his face in his hands, slowly tilting to the side away from Cream to quietly melt in peace.
"... I think we broke Mister Tails, Miss Amy."
Amy let out a giggle. "Sure did! Maybe we went a little far?" She snapped her ruler again. "Well… I guess let's get changed and then we'll treat him some lunch to make it up to him."
"Yay!" Cream leapt from his tails, releasing him at last.
Miles muttered a retort softly enough not to earn a repeat "lesson", fanning himself with a magazine as they left.
They were bad enough individually. How was he supposed to handle a "Team Jubilee" double whammy?
Maybe he could quietly bury his head in a snow drift?
No, they'd probably save him. Jerks.
Wait, he was a super genius, he could handle this, all he needed to do was engineer all events from now until he died of old age to ensure that the two of them were never within ten miles of him at the same time while still remaining friends. Simple.
Except the party.
Miles wrapped his arms around his tails with a whimper, squeezing the thick fur for emotional support until Cream and Amy emerged once more, chatting happily with all trace of mischief seemingly forgotten, the bright and festive clothes they'd picked out for the party clutched in their grasps.
His mood worsened when he saw two dark bundles go into their baskets as well.
