He did not see her face clearly to appreciate her reaction. Gawain smiled and hugged her, lifting her up a little bit just because he could. That one thing alone, the squeal and the smile, was totally worth breaking into a library.

>>“Oh, Gawain… How far can we go? I want to check something.”

"Most of the reading rooms should be safe" he smirked, following her "With your camo, most of the halls too. Just avoid the entrances."

He followed her, allowing her to enjoy the moment. Damned if he knew why she loved the library so much, but she seemed happy, and that was fine by him.

"Cutest dork ever" he muttered with a grin "What are we checking?..."

Perfect Twyla smiled to herself as she navigated the familiar halls, Gawain in tow. “It would seem sir, that you are encouraging the dorkiness…just sayin’. We need to check the biography section—something’s been bothering me.” There was no elaboration , just cautions steps when the hallway they were walking down turned into a foyer. The girl relaxed and let her powers bridge across her hand to cover the two of them. “We need to go slow and all that.” Gawain probably knew the drill by now, but the female mutant always found herself repeating things like that when she used her powers on another person.

Unscathed, they made it to the biography section and Twyla had to drop his hand so she could search. “Here we go…” She flipped open a biography of Ingrid Bergman after holding it up so Gawain could see the cover. “I liked how she said it, but I can never remember the exact quote. There was just enough light streaming in the window across the room that she could read and see Gawain’s face and form clearly. To the blond, it felt like they were on their own planet—no light, no other people, and the never-ending city sounds were muffled. It was perfect.

Now if she could only find that stupid…

Standing, Twyla placed the biography carefully on a nearby table so that the cover was facedown—it didn’t need to watch them. Deliberately: “’A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous.’” Without another word, the blond pressed herself against Gawain, bumping them into the table. She kissed him for a long moment and then pulled back for air. “There, that’s what I wanted to say…I always get it wrong.” A blush spread across her cheeks, darkening them with shadows . Dorky romance, he probably wouldn’t complain.

>>“It would seem sir, that you are encouraging the dorkiness…just sayin’. We need to check the biography section—something’s been bothering me... We need to go slow and all that.”

Gawain smirked. Biography section, sure. She did not even go for the romance novels, or... whatever. But she had that smile on her face, the I-have-something-planned-for-you smirk that he knew so well, and he knew better than to complain. She covered them both with camouflage; he liked the adventure of it. He moved more slowly, to help her control her powers.

>>“Here we go… I liked how she said it, but I can never remember the exact quote..."

Gawain arched an eyebrow; the minute she let go of his hand, the camo disappeared. Good thing they were safe here among the shelves of the reading room. He made sure of that.
His eyes followed her movements as she put the book down.

>>“’A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous.’”

God bless Ingrid Bergman.
Gawain responded to the kiss eagerly; by now he was not even surprised by her boldness as he used to be. They bumped into the table; he held her close to make sure she didn't lose her balance. And for other reasons too.

>>“There, that’s what I wanted to say…I always get it wrong.”

He smiled against her lips, backing her up against the nearst bookshelf. "Good thing the library's always here, then."

One year is a long time. Maybe not in the course of an entire life, but when you were still technically a teenager, it was a decent number. Twyla thought it over once a few days before her one year mark with the Morris kid. She ended up staying up thinking about it all night. An interesting formula occurred to her:
When had she gotten interested in people ‘romantically’? About age 13
How old was she? 19
The 3-am math:
19-13=6
6/1=1
Meaning Twyla had spent 1/6 of her ‘romantically active’ life with Mirror. Maybe it was only weird at 3 in the morning, but the blond had dwelled on it. A year was a long time.

A year was also something to celebrate. But how? There were so many ways to do it, both conventional and untraditional. So many options and sooooo many cards. So many dumb, cheesy, cards. And then, if she got a card did she need to find a gift as well? Did they need to expect gifts? There was way too much cheese associated with anniversaries for Twyla to actually take shopping for hers seriously.


Twyla told Mirror she’d handle most of the evening’s plans. If you can’t beat ‘em…

The blond got herself all dolled up the afternoon of their one year anniversary. This meant a green dress that was too short for February, actually planned out makeup, matching jewelry, a purse and…flats—heels on ice did not nice make. The girl quite liked the effect of her reflection when she added some mascara to her look and called it ‘almost good enough’. Giddiness had made the make-up bit harder than it needed to be, and she’d reapplied everything three times previously.

Twyla arrived at the appropriate door with a bouquet of (paper) flowers hidden behind her back at six o’clock exactly. Knocking curtly, she stood back and fidgeted with the bottom of her dress. A nervous smile was spread across her features.

One year. If someone told Maya one and a half years ago that she was going to have a steady relationship that lasts for a whole year (and hopefully even longer) she would have laughed. And yet, here she was, not simply preparing for a one-year anniversary date, but trying to look good for it too. That included a pretty top and even a light hint of make-up (with an industrial amount of make up remover stashed in the backpack, in case she happened to shift into Gawain somewhere else.)

She was a little bit nervous. Not because of Twyla; she was perfect, and they worked so well together. But somehow such an important date as an anniversary (even if it was, weirdly, enough, actually the anniversary of the haunted house nightmare) meant some pressure. What was she supposed to do? Or not do? Or say? She had a gift for Twy, but even that she was not sure about.

Someone knocked on the door. Six o'lock. Oh. Maya took one last glance at herself in the mirror, before she walked to the door to open it. The moment she saw Twyla, she was not even nervous anymore.

"Hey there, Bubblegum" she smiled, looking her over "You're beautiful."

It was as simple as that.

For some reason, Twyla was combating an old friend as she waited for the door to open. Butterflies. They had been growing in her stomach all day but she had finally recognized them for what they were. They made her giddy and fidgety and she swore she could feel little bolts of electricity running through her veins. Why was she so nervous? Or was this anticipation?

Maya opened the door and for a moment Twyla forgot what she was doing as the butterflies all made a rush for the walls of her stomach. Luckily, her girlfriend spoke first. A blush. “So are you." Pause, more blush. "Here…” The blond found her footing again, a smirk playing across her face as she presented the bright paper flower bouquet . “No worries about changing the water.” Was the explanation.

“Shall we, m’dear?” Twyla’s tone was half serious and half silly as she held out her hand for Maya to take. “I think our ride will be here any minute.”

The plan was…a bus. It wasn’t a long trip and taxis were more money than either of them had to spend. Besides, wouldn’t it be kind of fun to be all dressed up on a bus? Maybe Twyla’s definition of fun was a bit off. Either way…they’d head downstairs, down the street, get on the bus, and then arrive at the restaurant (supposedly food was usually a big part of dates like these). Maya had no idea where they were headed and Twyla was excited to keep it that way.

The butterflies were definitely from anticipation.

>> “So are you. Here… No worries about changing the water.”

Maya blinked, then shook her head with a smile "Wasn't I supposed to bring you flowers?..."
She took the bouquet, and put it into a vase (no water) before she picked up her brand new backpack and turned back to Twyla.

>>“Shall we, m’dear? I think our ride will be here any minute.”

"We shall" she smiled, taking her hand, and allowing her to lead. She had no idea what Twyla had planned, but that was fine by her. Sure, she was supposed to plan dates, since she was the guy in this relationsip (usually), but she didn't mind letting Twyla go silly and organize something for a change. The mystery of it was fun.
Also, 'our ride' was a bus.

It didn't take long to arrive to their destination. A restarurant. More fancy than any of the place they've visited before (well, that list mosty consisted of Chinese, pizza and Club Evolution). Maya smiled and kissed her girlfriend on the cheek.

"Nice start."

The restaurant was one of those modern looking storefronts that were sometimes seen at the base of larger older buildings. Glass covered the front and from the street one could see the diners inside. It was kinda swank and even though it was modern and supposedly ‘hip’ (according to a few websites) it felt to the blond like she was playing at being an adult.

A kiss on the cheek ”Nice start. Twyla blushed (her cheeks were acting up with the butterflies). “I hope so.”

They made their way inside and to the host. “Name?” The man behind the little podium thing looked like he should have been an Abercrombie model and he regarded everything around him with a cool stare of vague distaste. He made the blond nervous. “Uh, Ashby. I have a reservation for two?” Question?

“Right. This way.” He led them to a table near one of the large windows. “Today our special is…” Twyla had no idea what he was saying and she tried her best to smile and blink a natural number of times. He left them with menus that were printed on recycled paper. Looking down at it with a shrug, the blond looked up to try and gauge Maya’s reaction. “It’s supposed to be an up-and-coming place…” Her gaze drifted to the tables around them, all full, all surrounded by late twenty-or-thirty-somethings. Not quite their demographic, but it was the closest thing she could find. What did other people their age do for anniversaries?

A hand toyed with the straps of her purse. Twyla was feeling uncomfortable, the idea that she was playing at being an adult still present in her mind. She felt silly and uncomfortable in the crowded room. Beneath the table, her flats and calves began to take on the colorings of the refurbished wood floor. And then, as if things needed to get more off, she saw a waiter walk past with a tray of…food? She watched him place the plates around a table and she distinctly heard him saying something about enjoying their meal. That constituted as a meal? Random tiny blobs of color and leaves on a plate? It was artfully presented, sure. But…a look at the menu…for that price she could eat every meal at a decent Chinese place for a week. Another waiter came out and paused in front of their table so that he could serve the one next to them. Both Maya and Twyla got an eyeful of their neighbor’s meal. So many little blobby things…

Twyla couldn’t help it, she started to laugh. It started with a splutter and then she lost control and let herself go. This should probably be embarrassing.

>>“It’s supposed to be an up-and-coming place…”

It certainly was. If it would have been a Gawain evening, that should have been fine; but Maya, al girly and dolled up, felt just as uncomfortable as Twy did. Obviously. The girl had traces of camo in her blush.

"Yeah, very fancy" she muttered with a smirk, looking around. Holy hell, did people really call that food?... It looked like something you eat before you get hungry for real food.

Twyla probably thought the same, because she suddenly started giggling; Maya smiled, then laughed, the whole situation was surreal, what were they doing in a fancy restaurant like two grown up women on their tenth wedding anniversary?...

"C'mon Bubblegum" she stood, taking her hand "We're so ditchin' this place."

The look on the waiter's face (he probably heard some of that) was priceless as Maya walked past him, her girlfriend in tow. Outside the restaurant, still laughing so hard she had to gasp for air, Maya turned to kiss Twyla on the lips. Some of the people in the restaurant glared. She did it again.

"I'm sorry, didn' wanna ruin your plans" she looked at her sheepishly "I'm starving."

Twyla never managed to let herself become embarrassed because Maya also found the food funny and together they got some looks for their sudden loud laugher. Without pausing to think, the blond took Maya’s hand when it was offered and allowed herself to be led past the waiter and past the rude host to get outside. The cool air felt good on her warm cheeks. She was kissed mid laugh, killing the laughter quite effectively. If there was any glaring, Twyla didn’t notice, she was only focused on one other person. Especially not when she was kissed again; Twyla leaned into it more the second time, a hand reaching out to gently grasp the other girl's top, and when it ended she blushed and looked at Maya.

This was a bad plan… The dark haired girl across from her looked shy about leaving the restaurant. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I picked the wrong restaurant.” Twyla rolled her eyes at herself . I hope I didn’t ruin tonight… The night was still young, and they were far too young to be deterred by a too-old restaurant.

Grabbing the hand she had dropped during the kiss and wedging herself closer to the other girl, Twyla spoke: “I’m hungry too—what sounds good? All I know is that I don’t want anything that comes in blobs and is ‘drizzled’ with anything or has a garnish.” Twyla grimaced, her nose wrinkling…

What is that smell? Heaven. It was greasy, salty, spicy, and wafting in the air like a taunt at the pair. Her stomach gurgled in response and the blond checked the nearest street sign, trying to figure out how close they were to the source of the smell.

>> “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I picked the wrong restaurant. I’m hungry too—what sounds good? All I know is that I don’t want anything that comes in blobs and is ‘drizzled’ with anything or has a garnish.”

"It's okay" Maya grinned, holding her hand as she looked around "This is New York City, I'm pretty sure we can find somethin' that's totally unhealthy and scandalously cheap."

The smell was already there; all they needed to do was follow it down the street. Maya sniffed the air; for a moment she laughed again. One does pick up useful things from Angua, after all.

They did not need to go far from the fancy restaurant; that was the beauty of a city like no other. The smell was coming from a tiny place, with Chinese characters written all over the front, and charming Eastern music seeping out into the evening air. Maya grinned. It was as if the place had been waiting for them. Just for the anniversary.

"So, Bubblegum, how 'bout Chinese?"

It almost felt to Twyla like they were Hansel and Gretel, walking through the forest to find the house made of candy. Only Hansel was currently another Gretel and the forest was made of skyscrapers. Oh, and they didn’t find an edible home made of sweets.

Chinese. That was the only explanation for the smell. The restaurant looked very New York on the outside, like it was a random pocket of China town cut off from the rest. It was much more inviting and less austere looking than the modern restaurant. And the smell…

Twyla’s stomach gurgled in anticipation of large, cheap protions. Her free hand went to her stomach. “Sounds great to me.”

The pair made their way inside and were greeted by a smiling hostess . Lucky for them, there was no wait for a table and they were quickly seated. This place was a bit more formal than the place they’d gone to when they first met but it was still a lot more comfortable than their actual reservation for that night had been. Businessmen and women in their work suits sat at tables next to NYU kids who were arguing politics and music and a family in the corner spoke rapidly to each other while laughing together. There was no posturing here, no pressure. Twyla liked it much better already and she let herself relax. A smile. Another stomach gurgle.

“Take two. Let’s try this again.” She laughed and then brought her attention to Maya across from her. A shy smile spread across her flushed-from-the-cold face. “Happy anniversary.”

>>“Take two. Let’s try this again. Happy anniversary.”

Maya smiled. The restaurant was better than the one they wandered into more than a year before - their first day together. It was a much nicer memory than the events of the actual anniversary, haunted house and all.
Reaching out, she took Twyla's hand and kissed her fingers. Nobody cared. The Chinese place was nice like that.

"Happy anniversary, Bubblegum" she chuckled, smiling at her girlfriend "You know, crazy mutant adventures and all, this has been the best year of my life. Because of you."

All right, so that sounded cheesy. Maya shook her head and chuckled at herself. Did I really just say that?