noteful | Birthday Party for Laura/X-23

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Birthday Party for Laura/X-23

It's a pretty low-key party, all things considered, and not significantly different than the one Parker or Meg would have thrown in a dorm room for a friend at home, not-exactly-traditional menu not withstanding.

There's music, low enough to talk over (and maybe with a little more folk in the mix than one expects to find a party). Balloons and streamers in purple and blue and red. A place to leave presents. People to meet or catch up with.

And, most importantly, a chance to wish X-23 (or Laura) a very happy birthday.

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He starts to answer honestly, then tweaks it a little.

"I-- I could eat, yeah. Smells good over there. You?"

"You do not have to," X says.

Maybe it was the fractional hesitation.

"I am having another root beer float."

Mutant metabolism is a godsend.

Kind of.

"They are good."

"Maybe I'll try one of those," he says, a little more promptly than before. He's never had one of those. Even in the '50s.

X studies him for a second.

"You will need help?"

Beat.

"Making one?"

"I, uh."

Actually, he's not quite sure. But 'needing help' seems like a bit much.

"I'll just do what you do, if you're making one now."

"Okay," X says. And then she heads over to the root beer and ice cream.

It really is very simple.

X approaches it with a great degree of precision, however.

It's--kind of scary.

Raguel is not nearly so precise. Today, anyway. He watches her measuring ice cream - no small feat, when she has only the scoop to go by - but his own scoops are much less even. He makes faces at it and curses under his breath.

"This is harder than it looks," he says eventually.

"It is okay," X says, after studying his technique.

"Practice is useful."

For X, precision is a way of life. It's probably not healthy.

"Yeah, I don't disagree."

Doesn't mean it's not a pain in the ass, though.

"So what comes next?" he asks, finally giving up on the scoop.

"Root beer," X says, filling her glass until the liquid level is precisely one inch below the rim.

Then she offers the bottle to Raguel.

"You can add a straw when you are done."

She demonstrates with her own. It is very easy.

"That's it?" he asks, taking the bottle and looking at his glass of ice cream. Well, now he feels stupid.

"Okay," he says, filling it with the root beer until it's more or less at the same level as hers. He puts the bottle down and adds a straw, trying not to smile. Little accomplishments!

"Sometimes there is whipped cream," X says. A little doubtfully.

"And a cherry."

She likes her root beer floats unsullied by complications!

"Yeah?" he asks, straw halfway to his mouth.

"Well, you're the expert. If you don't add them, I won't add them. Probably better without."

But at least it has the potential to be more complicated than 2 ingredients. This is good news for his bruised ego.

"I think so."

Beat.

"The cream is too sweet."

It's like pure sugar.

X is not a big fan.

Though maybe next time X will introduce him to curly straws.

"Hm," he says, eyeing his glass. Given the ingredients here, he has a hard time labeling anything added to this drink as too sweet.

X is a giant weirdo freak.

This explains a lot.

She really does seem to like the float, though.

"You do not like it?"

"Dunno yet," he says, grinning, and takes a drink.

"No, I think it's safe to say I like it," he says, as the grin turns lopsided. It won't replace beer or anything, but it's not bad.

"Good," she says.

And--

It's not quite a smile, but it's probably as close as she gets.

"They are very good. Floats."

"Yeah, I can see why you drink 'em so much. Excellent choice for the birthday menu."

He holds up the glass in a toast.

"Parker and Meg pay attention," X says.

She approves.

And not because this proves they pay attention to her.

It is a useful skill.

"Guess so," he agrees. "And with results."

"Yes," X says, nodding.

"It is good."

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Birthday Party for Laura/X-23

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