Alternative Title, "One Woman's Trashy Novel is Another Woman's Treasure".

Jack's favorite bookstore inhabited the first two floors of a five-story brownstone. It seemed uncomfortably wedged between a high-rise apartment complex and the Ortiz Funeral Home. Inside, it was not much better, shelves and walkways choked with used books, pushing the used bookstore well out of ADA Compliance. A rickety staircase led one up to the second floor. Somehow, the owners had managed to divide certain shelves and alcoves into genres, and the shelves were (for the most part) sorted alphabetically by the author's last name (or by subject, where appropriate).

It was a sort of organized chaos that Jack thoroughly enjoyed... but it also meant that Jack had to visit during off-hours, and step very lightly. She was massive, and had more than once accidentally brushed an entire shelf free of its books. She always cleaned up after herself, though-- and since she was a regular, the booksellers were very understanding.

Jack walked with the certainty of a regular, weaving her way past shelves and displays towards the back of the store. In a low-lit corner, was a small doorway, blocked by a drape of fabric and a beaded curtain. The only implication of what lay beyond it was a handwritten sign upon a sheet of binder paper, which read "18+ Only".

Though Jack would be quick to insist that she bought an array of books from this business, its inclusion of adult-themed novels was a huge plus. The alcove was cramped beyond the low doorway, with enough room for two average-sized customers, the three full bookshelves of books, and that was about it. Jack trailed a massive index finger along the spines of the books, eyes combing for something good. She was getting ready to molt (if the dullness of her shell was anything to go by), and she needed some literature to tide her over until she was finished shedding. The prawn's index finger continued at a fairly clipped pace, finding nothing of note, and then-- whoa, Lauren K. Hannigan? Her hand unfurled and carefully dislodged the novel.

The prawn carefully pried the paperback free of its spot on the shelf. This author, in particular, was renowned for their supernatural "romances", and a favorite of the prawn. Their most renowned series featured a polyamorous young woman, whose adventures (and misadventures) were fraught with her romantic (and Jack used that term loosely) encounters. It was very rare to find her stuff in the used bookstore because of its popularity, not only among the LGBT community, but among the mutant community as well. Jack was no exception, in either case.

Lavender eyes devoured the back cover of the book. It looked good. The spine wasn't broken and overall it seemed to be in great condition... the sampling on the back snagged her interest. The prawn opened to the first page, searching for the price written at the top right corner... not a bad price. Carefully, Jack flipped to the beginning of the first chapter. She always read the first few pages of a new book she was considering, to see if the writing grabbed her. Not that it was necessary, given Ms. Hannigan's notoriety, but it was still a force of habit that the prawn was disinclined to break.

Thus, the enormous mutant stood wedged out-of-sight in the corner of the tiny alcove, the incriminating book pinched open between thumb and forefinger. The lurid cover answered any potential questions that unsuspecting onlookers might ask. It was off-hours, though, so Jack thoroughly doubted that anyone would happen upon her.

It seemed that ever since Skye had arrived in New York a couple of days ago, her hair spent a great deal of time in a purple hue, often accompanied by a faint flicker from her hands. Of course, this was her first time away from home on her own, though technically this was her home now, she supposed. Either way, nerves were a given, though not many people had an emotion-by-color thing going on. Today though, was exceptionally purple. She was out and about for the first time since her plane landed(at 3 in the bloody morning, of all times).

Her black hoodie was pulled over her purple hair, zipped tight and her hands were stuffed in the pockets. She wore a pair of torn, faded blue jeans, which the cold was making her regret. So, she ducked into a bookstore, taking the hood down as she looked around, wandering the rather cramped, awkward shelves. But a bookstore was a bookstore. And to her...that was sanctuary. Walking upstairs, she found a curtained alcove with a simple sign on notebook paper. Her hands flickered purple light, just a little as she pulled the hoodie over her head. Maybe a peek inside wouldn't hurt...after all she was a perfectly capable adult. Who never actually did this in public. She normally got her more "romantic" novels online. From the safety of her computer. But Uncle Blaine didn't have a computer. Honestly, her bedroom was a couch in the middle of an apartment at the moment.

Nonetheless, she slipped inside the alcove very carefully, her hands flickering with a purple light as she saw someone in there already reading. She quietly browsed the books before settling on one and pressing herself into the corner and...previewing...the first few pages. After a few seconds, her hair turned a shade of pink, the alcove occasionally lit up by a flash of pink light, then once she realized what was going on, it went back to purple. This is why I do this at home...

The tinkling of the beaded curtain announced that someone was joining her, long before the head with the bobbed haircut ducked in. Of all the rotten luck-- Jack froze, her lavender gaze lifting from the second page of the book. The owner of the bobbed haircut was a petite young woman, whose face was ambiguously young. Their eyes fixed-on her, light flickered around her palms.

If it were possible, the prawn would've shrunk into her corner, but she couldn't. She was cornered. By a mutant with glowing hands. All the while, in her own hands, an incriminating book. They didn't seem to mind that the prawn was there-- in fact, they found a book of their own, and began to read. Right in front of the freaking door out. Jack's pupils, wide in the low light, constricted with each flash of light. She was twenty-seven, for god's sakes. Twenty-seven and seven-and-a-half feet tall. She shouldn't be frightened of a five-and-some-change-foot girl with a bobbed haircut. She also shouldn't be embarrassed about being caught red-handed reading "adult" books. And yet, here she was, embarrassed and immobilized.

"I could..." the prawn began to murmur, "Get outta duh way."

Her low alto voice cut through the tense silence that stretched between the two of them, "-iss you wanna get to duh uzzer hass uzz duh shel'ss, dat is."

Not at all because she was embarrassed! Just to let the other woman get to the rest of the collection! Yeah! And the prawn said nothing about the light flickering from the girl's hands, or her color-changing hair. She closed the first paperback-- it had a solid start, she'd definitely get it-- and freed another Hannigan paperback from the shelf. Someone had to have cleared-out their old Hannigan collection, what a gold-mine.

The first paperback was tucked under one of Jack's primary arms, and she began to survey the second. "Began" being the operative word. She surveyed the young woman over the top of the paperback. The bioluminescent pores along the prawn's arms and ocular ridges glimmered faintly in the low-lit alcove. So faint were the flickers of light, however, that one would really need to be paying attention to see them.

"Dey's got sun Lauren K. Hannigan stu'ss, here. Dat ne'er hat-tens..."

She finally dropped her gaze, reading the back cover. How many times had she read that first line, now? Three?

Skye looked up over the top of her book as the other....person.?....spoke. It was only then she realized the sheer size of her...reading companion. The purple light didn't go away, it's constant flicker reminding her of how nerve-racking and awkward this was.

"You don't have to," she murmured softly as she tucked the book under her arm. "Really? I mean....I wouldn't know. I just got here about two days ago...saw this bookstore and sorta...wandered in," she said with a slight shrug.

It was then she realized she was blocking the only exit. Blushing slightly, she saw that there was just enough space for her to squeeze through. And so, turning so she was facing the stranger, she slid sideways into the opening. Only to realize....she wasn't little enough...

"Oh! I...sorry...I thought I could..." She blushed deeply, her hands now pulsing with a purple light.

"Oh," Jack said simply, at the girl's confession. She didn't so much... mean that it was uncommon to the bookstore, itself. Just that Hannigan was a popular author, and wouldn't be common in any used bookstore. Especially not at this price. Maybe the girl was just nervous to be in such close-quarters or perhaps she wasn't as well-read in this genre as Jack was. Either way, the prawn did not correct her.

The girl tried to make room for the prawn to pass, but it wasn't enough. Jack smiled at the gesture and then, of all things, laughed. She appreciated it but, if anything, the two of them would have to altogether leave in order for there to be enough room for Jack to exit. The doorway was that small.

>> "Oh! I...sorry...I thought I could..."

"Don't worry 'out it," the prawn reassured her, the burble of a laugh still riding on her tone, "I take u' a lot uzz s'ace."

She looked up from the book, "Just le' 'e know when you want to get o'er here, I'll get out duh way."

The girl's bumbling helped, minimally, to put the prawn at ease. Jack once again returned to that first line on the back cover.

It was quite obvious that Skye was rather out of place right now. She nodded slightly at the stranger's words, though she was unsure of what to say, so she turned slightly to peer at the books she could see, but to no avail; nothing caught her eye. However, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm down, she did manage to get the lightshow to stop flickering. With a smile, she nodded again, this time looking up at the fellow mutant, and pulling the hood down to reveal her face.

"Thanks, but you were here first," she said softly, thinking about it for a moment. "Though it's kinda cramped for two people of any size, I think..." she giggled a little. "I mean...if I can't fit, there may be a problem." She bit her lip a little as she thought, stepping out of the room for a moment, the book still under her arm. "We can always look in shifts," she said with a small shrug. Granted, she realized she probably needed to keep her purchasing to a minimum; after all, there was only so much one could hide in a couch. And she didn't exactly want her uncle or her 'aunt' to find anything she bought today.

The prawn shrugged one shoulder noncommittally. It was true-- the room had close quarters even for a pair of standardly-sized people. Jack's eyes pinched in an apologetic smile. Finally, she finished reading the back cover, after what seemed like an eternity of stumbling over the first line. She'd survey the first few pages outside of the alcove. The girl stepped out, Jack followed her, ducking her head through the doorway.

"Dat nay 'e duh way we has to do it," she agreed, "You can go ahead. Gonna see iss I like dis one."

It'd be easier to read just outside of the room anyways, where she wasn't distracted by the young woman who was accompanying her.

"Nayn's Jacquelyn, 'y duh way," Jack introduced herself, "Iss ya 'e-cun a regular here, you'll see nee around."

There were a few other people, mostly retired folks with too much time on their hands, who were also regular fixtures at the store. After momentarily checking the price on the front cover, Jack flipped to the first page and began to read. She casually leaned against the wall, breathing a sigh. It was a lot less cramped out here, than it'd been in there.

Why she'd elected to use her whole name was beyond her. Heat rushed into the prawn's face. Even if she deigned to admit it, the prawn knew why she'd chosen to identify herself right off the bat. She was wearing her usual casual ensemble-- a pair of tan cargo shorts, a tank top, a hoodie gathered at the elbows, and a black, fabric surgical mask. She looked like a guy. And this girl, was... well... that was probably Jack's pre-shed impulses talking, but the girl was cute.

Jack clenched her eyes shut and shook her head. Stoooop, Jack, stop, she told herself. You're just two people, getting books. Seriously. What the f***.

"Yeah, it seems so. Kinda hard to browse when you're...up close and personal," she said with a small laugh as she stepped inside; hopefully she was able to hide the blush as she entered. She didn't mean to make it sound so....suggestive. But there it was; maybe it was the fact that they were looking at rather adult books. She wasn't sure, but it was kind of embarrassing, enough to where one could see a flicker of purple light through the beaded curtain.

"Skylar," she said, poking her head out after a moment. "You can call me Skye," she added before going back to the walls of books. She started with one section, picking out a couple of books that looked interesting; she figured it would go faster if she grabbed a handful of intriguing ones in bulk, and then read through so Jacquelyn could pick out a fair share. Also, it'd beat going back and forth. Three books in hand, she walked out, and leaned against the opposite wall, gently setting the book she'd been sold on in the corner.

Then, she read the back cover of the first book. Meh. Then, the second, which seemed better. At the third, her hair turned a bright pink, as her face flushed a similar color. Okay...maybe she could get that one...just to check it out. Yeah, that's it.

"I may end up a regular," she finally said. "I've always been a sucker for literature, and from what I can tell, you have good taste." Or at least, similar taste to the petite girl with the multi-colored hair, anyway.

"Sky-lar," the prawn clicked in reply, echoing to herself. It was, thankfully, an easy name to say. She'd offer a "nice to meet you", but the girl had ducked back into her alcove. Jack, similarly, plunged into the first few pages of her book. The girl re-emerged with three books, and mirrored Jack's body language, leaning against the wall. The prawn appraised her once again. She spotted the familiar spine of a Hannigan book, one that Jack already had. The girl began reading it, and apparently found one of the many explicit pages within. Jack smiled to herself.

>> "I may end up a regular. I've always been a sucker for literature, and from what I can tell, you have good taste."

"Dey don't al'ays has Hannigan here," Jack clarified, "Dis is a s'ecial case. I can s'eak sore dat one, doh. Dat's a good one. 'ery raunchy." She was grateful to be somewhere well-lit because, with the flush that ran through her, the bioluminescent pores flickered to life again. In the bright, main area on the second floor, it might look like she had glitter on her cheeks, rather than glowing. She closed the book, and tucked it under her arm. Two, new-to-her books would be plenty to tide her over during the shed. She could bide her time with old favorites and the internet in other areas.

"Could reco'end sun uzzers to you," the prawn offered, recalling that she'd seen some other familiar favorites on the shelf, "Are you into duh su'ernatural stu-ss?"

She couldn't help but smile upon hearing her name repeated. She never thought she'd have enlightening conversation in this particular section of the bookstore. But nonetheless, it was nice. Maybe she'd made her first friend. Or more. Where the dickens did that come from?

"Yeah, I don't see why anyone would get rid of those, to be honest..." she murmured, her hands lighting up and pulsing quite vividly for a moment, but she wasn't worried; as far as emotions went, romance was a safe one. "I....can see that," she said with a slight smirk as she slipped in to return the two she decided against, then popped right back out.

"Supernatural stuff? Yeah," she said, trying not to sound too excited at the prospect. Good supernatural material was generally harder to come by; weeding through it to find the good stuff was like finding a needle in a haystack sometimes. "I'd love some recommendations, but I kinda need to limit my purchases to maybe one or two more. I kinda live with my uncle right now, and I really wouldn't want him to stumble across....yeah," she said with a slightly nervous laugh, but her nervousness or embarrassment didn't do anything compared to the current color of her hair.

Jack's own heart stuttered in her chest. Not to typecast, but... anyone who was keen on supernatural stuff, typically was also fairly mutant-friendly. The prawn nodded a silent acknowledgement, ducking through the doorway. Skyler's voice followed her through the curtain, requesting only one or two more, tops, due to her living situation. Jack clicked to herself, and gave a brief, "'kay."

That meant she had to make these one or two really, truly count. She retrieved a particularly well-written vampire romance, by a Ms. Robin McIntyre, and another favorite of Jack's which tended towards more of an urban fantasy, by a Ms. Hazel White. After a few moments of deliberating, and peering down at the covers of the books, Jack re-emerged.

"Dis un-" she said, handing the vampire romance to the young woman, "Is all a'out a lady and 'an'ire-" she curled her primary index fingers and held them up to her surgical mask, pantomiming fangs, "Not as hea'y on duh risque scenes, 'ut 'ery well-written. Dis-" she handed over the urban fantasy, "-is de exact o'osite. Ur'an santasy, a lady and a  troll... who, contrary to 'eing a troll, is still 'ery hot. Still well-written, 'ut gratuitous... you know. And it's well written les'ians, too, which can 'e hard to ss-ind."

That was said as an afterthought. But it was true-- though well-written LGBT+ was getting easier to find, you still had to comb through the crap, especially in used bookstores. Ms. White had, however, done a fairly good job for herself. The prawn paused. Maybe Skyler would want another book with a male-and-female love interest? Having your uncle find adult books was bad enough, but having them find LGBT+ adult books would be something else entirely.

"Can see is dey has sun udder good straight ones," the prawn said quickly, brushing the curtain aside as an offer to continue looking.

As she listened to her new book-buddy explain her recommendations, she felt the nervousness and the all around embarrassment fade away entirely. It was likely just that they had some interests in common. She tucked the vampire book under her arm, then the urban fantasy, becoming quite relaxed now, and her hair turned to its natural brown.

Maybe she could swing one more. Keep them in her suitcase where Blaine or Lee wouldn't find them.

"I could probably manage one more," she said softly, musing a little. "I mean I am kinda into both..." she gave a sort of sheepish smile as she picked up her other book in the corner.

This was turning out not to be such a bad day after all. She met a new friend, got some new books, and her first time out, she was relaxed enough to show her natural hair color. How long that lasted would remain to be seen, but it was a start...

The prawn smiled, ducking back into the alcove to peruse for more good choices. Her head was reeling. It was definitely the pre-shed hormones, that much was certain, but Jack was enjoying the emotional high they were giving her. Better than the anxious mess she'd been in the months prior.

Jack emerged once again, offering another Hannigan to Skyler.

"Can't go wrong wiss Hannigan," the prawn said, "Dis duh sirst 'ook in her Elena Blaine series... and Elena slee's wiss all kind uzz characters."

The prawn, still all smiles, straightened herself. Maybe she'd slip away, that way if Sky was anxious about holding onto any recommendations, she'd have the chance to reshelve them.

"I sink... I'll call it good, wiss deez two,"  Jack announced... it'd make a comfortable "out" if Skye didn't really want to keep talking.

Skye smiled some more as the prawn disappeared into the alcove again; she was getting used to the company, honestly. She'd actually managed to find someone that shared a common bond, even if that bond was a little....dirty....in nature. Yeah, it was extremely awkward at first, but once they found they shared a common interest, it was peaceful now. Enjoyable, even.

She took the book she was offered, sort of looking at the back before leafing through it. "These should do nicely," she said with a sheepish grin, now holding five books under her arm. "It's a little more than I intended to grab, but...hey that means I get more time to read, right?" she gave a semi-playful wink before getting serious again. "Thanks, Jacquelyn. For the help and all. I probably would have been in there all day and not come out with half of this." she laughed a little.

"So, aside from the obvious," she said after a moment, "Do you like to read or do anything else?" she asked, figuring since they'd already jumped a hurdle, she may as well find out if they had any other common ground.

Jack held up her hands at the "Jacquelyn", and pushed them together.

"Jack," she said gently, "Jacquelyn nakes nee seel like I'n in trou'le. And don' nention it."

>> "So aside from the obvious, do you like to read or do anything else?"

The prawn glanced away bashfully, a sort of wordless "not really" rippling through her demeanor. She tucked her thumb into the pocket of her pants, and bumped up against a half-finished whittled carving. The prawn brightened, and fish the half-complete project out. It seemed to be a sleeping fox, curled into a ball as if to sleep. Though the tail, its hindquarter, and its head were defined, the details of the face hadn't been added.

Jack held it out to her newfound friend, letting the small carving topple into her palm. It was about the size of a silver dollar, ears included. It was hard to imagine someone of Jack's stature, with hands that could envelop a grown man's head, carving something that small.

Jack waited as the young woman appraised her handiwork, then touched a hand to her own chest.

"I nade dat," she explained.

"You?"