Welcome to the second part of my "Growing Pains" series!

My utmost gratitude goes out to my amazing beta reader Alex for his time, patience, and dedication to iron out all my flawed sentences. Writing has become less stressful knowing he has my back!

Thanks to everyone who commented on Growing Pains! I hadn't expected so much feedback, and I re-read every single comment at least two dozen times. Without all this support I would've given up this two-shot multiple times. But it's here now, and after all the trouble it gave me, I'm very pleased with the final version :-)

The Date. Part 1.

"Oscar, I need your help."

"O-Okay." The boy lowered his croissant before he looked anxiously at his classmate. Molly's ideas had a tendency to get him into unexpected trouble. She sat on the brick wall beside him, swinging her legs.

"You're not even going to ask about it?" She cocked her head in surprise.

Oscar paused, contemplating the right response. "Do you want me to?"

Molly tilted her head to the other side, then shrugged, and hopped down from the wall. "Do you know when Kit's birthday is?"

Taken aback, he pondered the question for a moment. He had celebrated his own and their friends' birthdays with Kit, but not Kit's. Oscar had thought little of it, since he hadn't known him for an entire year yet. Another thought occurred to him, and he frowned, mystified. "You meanyou don't know? But... how? You're together all the time."

Molly sighed, wishing that'd be true. But between school, work, and his other commitments, time with Kit had become scarce.

"Can't you just ask him?"

She rolled her eyes, dismissing the idea. "It has to be this week because that's when Mommy bought the air service last year, and I want to surprise him! He'll be thirteen, after all."

Suddenly understanding the significance of such a milestone, Oscar nodded solemnly. "Maybe Ernie knows?" he suggested, grasping at straws.

Molly shook her head, her expression cautious. "Too risky. If he doesn't, we could end up causing more harm than good. You know how Kit is about his past."

Oscar sighed in resignation, bracing himself. "How can I help?"

Molly grinned and batted her eyelashes at him. "I'm soooo glad you asked! You will help me acquire it. I'm sure it's in his file."

Oscar pouted; he had walked right into that one.

"His file... as in 'his super confidential student file locked up in the school office' file?!" He groaned, already dreading the potential consequences.

But if it was for Kit…

"Alright… Let me hear the plan."

Excitedly, Molly grabbed a stick and began drawing in the sand at their feet. "First, we'll have to be late to Mrs. Fetherwing's class," she said, pointing to the clock symbol next to a head with a beak and steam coming out of the top.

Oscar's heart sank. Everyone knew how much their literature teacher despised tardiness.

"We'll get detention, so we can sneak out of it, and use the key Clarisse swears is hidden under the potted plant in the hall to get into the office. While you stand watch, I'll peek into Kit's file. Easy!" Molly could see everything clearly in her mind: how she'd fearlessly go through each step, executing the heist with a precision that would make Danger Woman proud.

Oscar bit his lip.

"Whaat?" Molly asked in a low, suspicious tone.

"Um… I don't think it will work like that, sorry."

"Why not?"

"We need three strikes each to receive detention, and while I don't know your record, I haven't been tardy once, and it's impossible to get three strikes within one lesson."

Molly's ears drooped. He was right: her slate was perfectly clean.

"In addition," Oscar continued, pointing to the little plant-like scribble. "Ernie knocked that one over last week, breaking the stem, and they didn't replace it."

Molly stared at him, then at her drawing. Pouting, she snapped the twig in two, grumbling under her breath.

"Fine… Then 'Plan B' will have to do."

An hour later, Oscar found himself beneath the school registration window, his body aching as he struggled to help Molly up.

The plan seemed simple enough: enter, find the file, check the date, and leave. "Piece of cake," she had said. However, she hadn't mentioned that he would have to do the physical labor.

"Come on, higher!" she hissed impatiently, putting her foot on his head for leverage. He grunted and gave her a miffed look, but she had already disappeared into the room. He cleaned his glasses and placed them back on his nose.

"Did you find it?" he whispered anxiously, his heart pounding as he looked around, and as faint voices echoed from around the corner.

"Not yet. C is in the top cabinet," Molly replied quietly, scanning the area for something to give her a boost. She chose the secretary's chair and rolled it next to the file stand, its wheels squeaking softly.

Ca... Ce... Ch... Cl.

"There it is!" she exclaimed, relieved and excited, as she pulled the "Cloudkicker" file out. Her eyebrows rose as she weighed the thick folder in her hands.

She skimmed hall passes, report cards, detention slips, reports of fights, and complaint letters. To her relief, the date on the latest one was several months old. The pages rustled under her fingertips until she found the page she needed.

Suddenly, footsteps echoed in the hallway, growing louder with each passing second.

Panicked, Molly quickly jotted down the date and shoved the file back into its section. She took a leap of faith, propelling the chair towards the window. Her stomach dropped as it hit the wall and she became weightless, successfully escaping through the open window just seconds before the school secretary walked in, and rolled off the fall.

Breathless, Molly pressed her body against the cool wall beneath the window, its rough texture scraping against her back as she anxiously waited for the coast to clear.

Mrs. Duckson's head emerged from the opening, looking left and right.

Eventually, the window was slammed shut. They followed the wall around the next corner, and slid down to sit on the ground.

"Did you get it?" Oscar asked, his voice shaky and his breath ragged.

"I did," she confirmed, but frowned at the note she had written. She showed it to him.

Oscar's eyebrows shot up. "He didn't say anything?!"

"Nope," she replied, popping the "p".

"What are we doing now?"

With a smirk, she pushed off the ground and pulled him to his feet.

"Now, Oscar, we're going shopping!"

Not long after school was out, the two cubs stood at the entrance of the nearest supermarket.

Molly studied Oscar as if he were an intriguing exhibit at a curiosity fair, scrutinizing his fancy attire from his slicked hair down to his pedicured toes.

"What do you mean by 'I don't have an allowance'?"

Fidgeting with his hands behind his back, Oscar kept his eyes fixed on the ground. "Usually, I don't need any money. My parents take care of everything."

Yeah, that actually made sense.

With a sigh, she patted his back and said, "Well, that's alright. I have two dollars. Surely we'll be able to get everything we need."

"Do you think we can buy a nice cake with that?"

Molly bit her lip. Cake was quite expensive.

Then an idea popped into her mind, and she pulled him by the arm towards the baking aisle.

"Pff, who even wants store-bought cake? Kit is our friend! Of course we'll bake one ourselves!" He seemed hesitant.

"Um... have you done that before?"

She didn't quite meet his eyes.

"Well, sort of, but it's easy! Give me a boost," she urged, pointing to a package on the top shelf. With a resigned sigh, Oscar folded his hands, offering them as a platform to step on.

Molly wobbled a bit, and just when he feared she'd step on his head again, she let out a triumphant shout, and hopped down, presenting the box to him. The front read, 'Duffy's Red Velvet cake mix - just add water!'

"It's perfect!" she exclaimed with excitement. "Piece of cake!"

Oscar hid his face in his paws, feeling a growing dislike for that phrase.

When Rebecca stepped into the apartment a few hours later, a biting stench hit her like a brick wall. Following her nose, she approached the kitchen, hearing voices within. She gasped.

"What happened here?!"

The once spotless kitchen looked like a battlefield: utensils lay strewn about, small brown and red handprints covered the white counter doors, smoke billowed out of the oven, and there was a dark lump on the floor; parts of it had scattered across the tiles. Molly sat amongst the mess, with Oscar rubbing her back in comfort.

Shocked, Rebecca hurried over.

"Are you hurt?" she asked, scanning the cubs for signs of injuries, her concern growing. Her daughter turned big, tear-filled eyes at her, and shook her head.

"No, but the cake..." Her bottom lip quivered.

Rebecca glanced back at the spongy remains, finally realizing what it was. "Why were you two baking alone in my kitchen?!"

"For Kit - for his birthday."

The bearess blinked, trying to remember the date. She must've written it down somewhere… Surely it had been required on one of the employment forms.

But she still came up blank. "When is his birthday?"

"Today!"

"Today?!"

And she remembered.

Wanting to start her business on the right foot, she'd filled out all the required forms on her very first day. Still under the assumption that Baloo was Kit's father, his declaration that Kit was over the age of ten, and his signature had been enough. And, during an impossibly busy week, she'd blindly signed the admittance forms for school, confident Kit had filled them out correctly.

She rubbed her temples, feeling the approach of a headache. This shouldn't have happened.

"We didn't know either. We had to break into - " Oscar began, but Molly quickly jabbed her elbow into his side.

"Ask the secretary!" she blurted. Rebecca raised an eyebrow but filed the exchange away for later. "But now the cake is ruined," Molly cried, fresh tears welling up in her eyes. Overcome with sympathy, she folded her cub into her arms.

"Don't worry, Honey. I think I know just what to do. You two put whatever hasn't touched the floor into a bowl. Meanwhile, I'll make a call."

"To whom?"

"The only person I know who just might get everything ready for a party tonight," she called over her shoulder, already halfway through the living room. "Oh, and Oscar? Would you like to stay over tonight?"

The cub beamed. "Yes, ma'am. I'd very much like to. Oh, may I make a call, too, please?"

Running her sleeve across her eyes, Molly grabbed a spoon and scooped what was salvageable of the cake into a bowl. Oscar soon joined her, and when Rebecca reentered the kitchen, they cleaned up the worst of the mess and eyed what was left to work with.

"Please get the cream cheese, Dear, and then look if we have some leftover chocolate from Christmas. Here, Oscar, you can stir the crumbs."

The children nodded eagerly.

Once everything was prepared, she handed each of them a spoon.

"Take one spoonful and roll it between your hands like this." She held up a perfectly round dough ball between her fingers and placed it on a large plate.

Giggling, the two copied her, and Rebecca smiled. While she didn't approve of what they'd done to her kitchen, they'd done it for their friend, and that was something she'd always encourage.

She chopped the chocolate and melted it over hot water, while the cubs stuck popsicle sticks into the cake balls. Carefully, Molly dunked the first one into the chocolate, beaming when it came out just right. Oscar finished it with a sprinkle of colorful sugar pearls.

"Look, Mommy, it's a tiny balloon!" The other two cocked their heads, glanced at each other, and shrugged. "Can we leave the sticks in, pleeeease?"

This time, Oscar bobbed his head in agreement.

Rebecca blinked. That wasn't what she'd aimed for, but… they both looked so pleased with their creation.

"Sure, Honey, it looks cute."

Once everything was done and the Vandersnoot chauffeur had dropped off a bag and a parcel for Oscar, Rebecca wrapped the cake bites in tin foil and bundled the cubs into their coats.

"Wait, Mommy! We need a card!"

"Got it!" Rebecca replied. "Sign here. Oscar, you too." They signed their names under Rebecca's elegant script. When she showed them the front, they cheered, then hurried out the door.

Since the Sea Duck was out on delivery, they met an air taxi at the pier, dragging a sleepy Wildcat out of his hut, and settled into the seats for the flight.

"There it is!" Molly pointed out the window.

Oscar watched the small, turtle-shaped island in the middle of nowhere in awe.

There was a beach running all around the edges, then a thicket of tropical trees, and right in the middle, a monstrous mountain with a waterfall. At its foot grew a giant banyan tree with a shipwreck at its base, and thatch-roofed huts hanging in the canopy like oversized blossoms. Above all, right on the mountain top, was a sign screaming the place's name into the evening sky in bold red letters: Louie's.

They had just stepped onto the pier when a trio of apes greeted them. The orangutan in the middle waved exuberantly, and stopped before them, while the other two took what little luggage they'd brought.

"Becky-baby, Darling, good to see you! But couldn't you have given me a little more of a heads up?"

She rolled her eyes when he smooched her hand, but didn't object like she once had. A dunk in the ocean had taught him her boundaries, and they'd been as thick as thieves ever since.

"I knew if one could make it on time, it was you."

Oscar's jaw dropped as they entered the club. He'd never, ever seen anything like it.

The room was an organized chaos of tiki decor, mismatched furniture, and a rowdy group of people hollering and dancing to music played by a band of simians on the off-center stage. The undeniable star of the establishment was the bar with its carved wooden poles and a large pinboard full of pictures, labeled "Wall of Fame". And on the very top was a photograph of Baloo giving a thumbs up.

He wanted to ask about it, but realized the adults were talking.

"Now, what's the next step?" Louie asked.

"We need Baloo to get here without letting Kit know we've planned something." Rebecca placed a neatly wrapped plate on the bar.

"I have just the solution!" he exclaimed, hopping over the counter, and set the radio to call the Sea Duck.

Almost immediately, Baloo's cheerful voice boomed through the speaker, "Heya, Louie! How's everything going? Do you have a good crowd tonight?"

"Yeah, it's not bad, but I'm missing a dance act. Can you help me out, cuz?"

Baloo laughed, but his reply was postponed as Kit's voice, faintly audible in the background, argued a hasty retort.

"Ah, don't worry too much, kid, she won't even know! She never does."

Rebecca glared at the radio; Oscar bit his bottom lip, and Molly chuckled.

Louie quickly added, "Baloo's right, Short Stuff!" Nervously, he glanced towards the unamused bearess beside him, grinning apologetically. He lifted himself up with one arm and formed a heart with his toes.

Another disgruntled exchange came from the cockpit before Baloo replied, "We're heading your way!"

Louie's grin broadened. "I knew I could count on you!"

"Aw, come on, Lil' Britches!"

Kit huffed, jumping out of the plane's door with crossed arms.

"No service today, boys - we're incognito." Baloo winked at the gas station monkeys, who shared confused glances, then shrugged.

"Hey, wait up!" He hurried along the pier to catch up with the disgruntled cub. "See, I got it all figured out! No gas bill, no nothing."

Another huff.

"We could've been on time for once!"

A light bulb lit up above Baloo's head, and he shook it with a grin.

"Aw, yer not worried she'll think it's your fault, are you?"

The sidelong look he received was answer enough. Bullseye.

"Heeeeey, relax! That frown makes you look too old!"

"But it's my job to plan the routes and keep my pilot on track, so we aren't late."

"Well, that's a lot of pilot to keep track of," Baloo laughed, patting his ample belly. He took the kid by his shoulders and moved them to a hot, imaginary beat, but when Kit remained stiff, he turned him around and his voice softened. "That important to yer, hmm?"

"Yeah…"

"Okay, tell you what: we go in, I do my thing for two songs - no encore - and we'll be right out. Whaddaya say, partner?"

Kit thought about it, quickly doing the math in his head, and nodded. "If we get back in twenty minutes and increase the flight speed by 16.3%, we can still make it! Thanks, Papa Bear!"

They'd reached the club's entrance, just now noticing the unusual quiet beyond. Exchanging worried glances, they opened the double doors, ready for anything.

Anything except the deafening canon of "Surprise!" and "Happy Birthday!".

Kit jumped backwards, bumping into Baloo. Balling his fists, he stared at them all, immediately searching for the quickest way out.

It wasn't that he disliked crowds per say. In fact, he enjoyed using them to become invisible; hiding amongst the moving masses for protection or to pick a few pockets. It would also be an outrageous lie to pretend he didn't like being the center of attention. Thinking about all the cheering spectators in his Air Circus days still sent a delightful shiver down his spine. He loved the spotlight but only when he chose to be in it.

But this now, with all eyes on him…

A large hand touched his shoulder, startling him further, but once he realized who it belonged to, its warm weight grounded him enough to stay put.

"Just smile. I'll get us through," Baloo murmured, his thumb rubbing circles into the boy's tense muscles while he scanned the crowd. Most of them were Louie's regulars, with some casual party folks that had gotten pulled into whatever this was. Over the bar ahead, decorated with balloons and paper streamers, hung a banner with "Happy 13th" painted in bold, dark green letters. Underneath, a familiar group waved.

With his paw still on Kit's shoulder, he marched them forward, high-fiving any hands away that came too close.

The crowd cheered and followed, forming a semicircle behind them as they arrived at the bar.

Molly barrelled into her friend, hugging him tight, then pulled him by the arm towards the counter. Baloo let him go. He had to admit, as far as surprise parties went, he couldn't have thought of a better one.

The lights went out, and a small armada of servers ushered a path. Old Montgomery played a few chords on the piano, and the crowd joined in.

With a great show of swinging, jumping, twists and other acrobatics, Louie himself delivered a precariously stacked, multi-tiered, sparkler-heavy cake to the bar top. It was a miracle it didn't topple over.

The orangutan held up a single candle to the dumbfounded child, and exclaimed, "Make a wish, golden boy!"

Kit did so hastily, much to the group's joy.

With a last rendition of "For he's a jolly good fellow", the party guests returned to their prior activities.

"Gifts, gifts, gifts!" Molly chanted.

"What? No… That really isn't - " Kit tried to protest, but his voice was drowned out by Wildcat's sing-song declaration of "Mine's already here!" He grinned, handing the cub a fist-sized, rectangular object loosely wrapped in a dark spotted rag.

A tight knot formed in Kit's stomach. But he managed a smile, once again taken aback by the lion's childlike enthusiasm and kindness.

Acutely aware of how explosive some of the mechanic's side-projects could get, he unfolded the fabric with a great deal of caution.

"Woah, so pretty!" Molly gasped, peeking at it from the side. Kit agreed, turning the piece of metal to catch the ambient light.

Embossed in incredible detail was his airfoil, caught in full motion, surrounded by swirls of clouds, and,in the upper left corner, the handle of a tow rope. It didn't take much to imagine himself in that scene.

"It's for your seat belt, to make it… yours. Ya know, like how everyone knows 'That's Baloo's seat because it got a Baloo-shaped dent'! But you don't leave dents… So, um, yeah…" Belatedly, Wildcat shot a quizzical look at the pilot, as if just realizing he might have taken offense, but Baloo just grinned and gave him a thumbs up.

Kit was awed by the thoughtfulness. He clutched the buckle and fist-bumped Wildcat. "Thanks, it's amazing!"

The cheery lion grinned in delight.

With Kit still occupied with his gift, Baloo noticed Oscar fidgeting with a small object, and bent down to ask quietly, "Hey, Lil' Slick, yer wanna go next?"

The young boy looked embarrassed, but nodded before timidly stepping forward. "Um… Kit?"

The seat belt buckle vanished under the older's sweater and he turned to Oscar with a curious expression. "What's up?"

"I didn't make it, but… I thought you might like this." He opened his small paw, revealing a velvet bag. One tug on the strings and a round, gilded object slid into Kit's palm. The intrigued cub ran his thumb over its finely carved swirls on the lid. It looked like a pocket watch at first, but inside was a delicate, state-of-the-art compass.

"I know you already have one, but I read they can get demagnetized, so I thought you might like a spare."

When Kit just stared at him, he grew nervous. Maybe he should've bought something else, but he'd really thought…

"Oscar, I've never even seen one of these in the wild!" He held it up to Baloo, who whistled appreciatively, and Molly held out her hand to inspect it up close.

Oscar's ears perked up. "You like it?"

Kit nodded, but before he could say more, Molly spoke up. "What does that inscription say?"

Blinking, Kit peered down over her head. Inside the case, outshone by the pearl of ingenuity beneath, were two lines of filigree.

He swallowed hard.

Oscar smiled, and said, "They're the coordinates for - "

"Cape Suzette," Kit finished breathlessly. Blood rushed in his ears; suddenly light-headed and dizzy, he took a step back, shaking his head.

Too much.

His stomach twisted and he felt sick.

Lies, lies! Too many lies… all lies!

He needed air - needed space - had to leave. Now.

Baloo was the only one who saw it coming: the kid's trembling, balled up fists, his shallow breaths, the skittish movements of his ears and eyes. Kit was ready to bolt.

On cue, the boy barely got a word out to excuse himself, and dashed to the restroom.

The small group stared after him - most in confusion, some in compassion, but all in worry.

Seeing the hurt and sadness in the cub's faces, Baloo kneeled down to be at eye level with them, and placed a gentle paw on their shoulders.

Oscar looked up at him, his lip wobbling. "Did he not like it?"

"No, kiddo, he loved it!" Baloo reassured with a grin. But his expression fell when he - more to himself than the kids - mumbled, "This is 'bout something else..." When they cocked their heads in question, he patted their backs, and with a sigh, took the compass from Molly to hand it over to Oscar. "Here, you can give it back to him later. Don'tcha worry. He'll come around soon."

With that, he stood up and did what he did best: making a spectacle of himself.

"Hey, Louie! Heat up the beat! I still owe yer a dance number!"