1st April 2017

Mon-El strolled into the DEO for his shift, pausing to check his collar in the mirror of the lift. He took a deep breath, his reflection startled him. It had been a long while since he wore his Royal robes. The tailored jacket sculpted to his form, the soft blue enhancing his grey eyes. There was a slight sadness in his reflection, a life a long time again, easier times, less enlighten. The world at his fingers and he never knew. How life had changed from that carefree, thoughtless Prince he was to whatever he was on his way to becoming. He took a deep breath. Grateful for Winn in helping him understand human culture.

The start of April, a fresh start, where people reflected on their pasts by wearing traditional dress to work. It allowed you to reflect on the good for your past and look forward to the future. Winn had explained.

He took a deep breath and centred himself and walked into the DEO.

It was a Saturday so less people in, he stepped into the central area and saw J'onn in deep conversation with 2 Aliens, they had a soft lilac shimmer to their skin, and bright pink hair. He recognised them as Olorians, an interesting race who were traders, handy to know, difficult to trust.

Near J'onn was Winn, and a few other DEO staff in deep conversation. No one was dressed in any outfit that was out of the ordinary. This was concerning to Mon-El who was so wrapped in his thought that he missed J'onn walking towards him with his guests.

"Mon-El" boomed J'onn and the Daxamite jumped, he turned to smile at the Martian. Yet before he could say a word the Olorians were on their knees before him.

"Your Highness" the taller one hissed, "We feared you had died, the rumours suggested you perished when the badness happened" clearly hinting to Krypton's explosion, and subsequent impact on Daxam .

"I am very well, thank you, please stand," and he gestured for them to rise, feeling very ashamed of the attention.

They looked relieved and smiled at him, then bowed their heads to avoid eye contact.

"Please don't be so formal with me. Do you live on Earth or are here to trade?"

"Trade, Your Highness" the smaller replied without looking up

"Mon-El, that's my name, I'm not a Prince here"

"Thank you, Prince Mon-El"

And Mon-El swore he saw J'onn smile slightly

"Let me show you back to your ship" J'onn ushered the Olorians away, leaving Mon-El to make his way to Winn, with a slight air of menace.

Winn looked up and Mon-El and beamed, "Looking good your Highness"

"Oh yes" muttered Diane to the side of him, "You should only wear this"

Winn glanced at his female work colleagues who were lustfully watching the Daxamite. "Or not!"

"Your fault man" smiled Mon-El, bemused that Winn's Prank was seeming to not have the desired impact.

"I hate you" groaned Winn as Mon-El slung an arm around his shoulder, "you look like that and have super powers, I should hate you. I want to hate you"

"So you don't find me attractive? Because you know I'm up for anything"

Kara turned up a few hours later slightly confused as to why the female staff were looking at her both hatefully and enviously as she landed on the balcony at the DEO. A sheepish looking Winn was sat at his station, trying to avoid eye contact with her.

"Winn" she smiled her arm around his neck, very friendly "What have you done?"

"Nothing?" he flinched and squirmed away, lucky Mon-El and J'onn emerged from a meeting. Kara raised an eye brow at Mon-El's outfit who then shrugged, things made sense.

"Good Kara, did you see anything significant when out today?" J'onn asked, she raised glanced at Mon-El, he smiled at her and shrugged slightly.

"Nothing important, seems like you have had an interesting morning"

"Mon-El has agreed to work as official diplomatic for the DEO" stated J'onn and walked off as he so often did with no other explanation leaving the 3 standing there.

"Whatever the explanation is for your outfit, I'm getting you home and out of it" Kara grabbed her boyfriend kissing him and flew off with him. Leaving Winn frustratedly annoyed that his joke back fired, a whole year to plan the next.