Kaitlyn was only eleven, Sledgehammer had to constantly remind himself, only eleven. You do not strike an eleven year old girl, or tell her to piss off because she wants you to do some trivial task. An eleven year old should not be able control him, but she was. It was maddening, humiliating and had to come to an end.

The humiliation though, well... As David fingered a pendent of bacon with eyeballs (what was with these Yanks?), he realized that his humiliation was far from over. Bribery was the route he was going to take to save any scrap of pride. Dropping a little bit of cash on small gifts hardly compared to the shame of begging off work from someone that had to crane their head backwards to see his face. Just a few small trinkets to distract the young mind when she came with a request. Kaitlyn was only eleven, she could be distracted.

Problem was that he had no idea what passes through the mind of an eleven year old girl. David had been the baby in his family, Charlie his only sibling. Neither one had ever even spared a glance at the color pink growing up. At eleven David had first seen Anna, but he was shy then, not sure how to approach the new girl in school. What does an eleven year old girl want? Was it really breakfast food that stared at you?

The Brit sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Even if he knew what little girls wanted it probably was different on this side of the pond. When it came to fashion and shopping Sledge prided himself on his competence. Now he needed help, figuring out what was best for Kaitlyn. What he needed, was an American girl, close to his blackmailer's age. As he glanced around the store it seemed that those qualified were all with their parents. The only girl who didn't seem to have an adult with her was gray, winged, and probably a mite older than he was looking for. Ah well, better that then nothing. "Excuse me," he said, giving the winged teen a tap on the shoulder, "Iffin it's not a problem could you 'elp me with something?"

Coming to Claire's was a gamble-- there was an Icing in the mall, which bore accessories that were slightly more age-appropriate for the fifteen-year-old gargoyle. But... a lot of the accessories at the older girls' equivalent of Claire's lacked the bright colors and zaniness that drew Gina to these specialized stores in the first place. After all, Claire's had dinosaur earrings. How cool was that? Gina didn't have pierced ears, but... dinosaurs were pretty cool.

So, much in the fashion of a teenage girl, she perused the displays, occasionally picking up an item of interest and surveying it, giving the item her own personal commentary, before either returning it to the rack, or dropping it into her basket. Nothing too eccentric, but plenty of brightly-colored items... a clip or two, and other such things. Gina was debating between a couple of headbands when someone lightly tapped her on the shoulder.

Now why someone felt compelled to do such a thing was beyond her-- it wasn't something typical. People tended to leave her alone when she was at the mall, or if they had to interact with her (say, if this person were a cashier), they did so with apprehension. But if someone wanted to speak with her, so be it. She was greeted by a person who seemed out-of-place in amidst the typical clientele-- a young man with a young face, but still seemed older than Gina.

"Yes?" she inquired politely.

And then, the guy pulled out an accent. And a British one, to boot.

>> "Excuse me. Iffin it's not a problem could you 'elp me with something?"

Gina smiled mildly, "I could certainly try."

Depended on what he needed help with.

"I'll be perfectly honest here," Sledge said, giving Gina a sheepish smile, "I'm visiting me niece, and thought I should get her a present." Alright, so technically he wasn't being perfectly honest, or even semi honest. If he was going to be escorting Kaitlyn around, teaching her the proper way to con somebody, he needed to have some sort of relation to her. Father was an obvious answer. Nobody questions a father going around the city with his daughter, and nobody wonders why a little girl is out and about if she has an adult with them. Yes, father could possibly work, except for a few things. Sledge wasn't nearly old enough, he felt, to have a preteen daughter. And then there was the accent issues. He had not been in America long enough to learn how to speak with the accent, and whenever someone tried to imitate his it simply irritated him. Never mind the fact that the two looked nothing alike. Niece was the more believable lie, and the sooner he got into the habit the better.

"Problem is that I'm not so sure what she'd like. 'aven't seen her in forever, and well, different sense of style here," The amount of body glitter that was for sale did not seem to change no matter what country you were in. Still, it couldn't hurt to get a local's help. This gray teen probably had a better understanding of the mind of a prepubescent girl. "Could you help a bloke out?"

Sledge was willing to bet that the teen did not get too many people approaching her. She had been given a bit of a berth by the other customers, and he had a feeling that it wasn't just because of the wings or tail. He was also willing to bet that this meant that she was going to be all the more eager to help him out. That and the whole "I'm British and hopelessly lost" angle.

>> "I'll be perfectly honest here. I'm visiting me niece, and thought I should get her a present."

This man. Was adorable.

Was it wrong to think such a thing about a guy who was blatantly older than her? From the abashed grin to the accent-- he was just adorable. And he was buying a gift for his niece.

"That's so sweet," Gina complimented. She was on the cusp of making that comment into a swoon, but she caught herself. Just because he was a guy with an accent didn't mean she needed to swoon over it.

>> "Problem is that I'm not so sure what she'd like. 'aven't seen her in forever, and well, different sense of style here... Could you help a bloke out?"

"Totally," Gina agreed, tail curling faintly. Gina was always glad to help, for precisely the reasons that the British man thought. He was a man in distress, who was asking her for help, and he had an accent. It was his lucky day.

"How old is she?" Gina inquired, "And what sort of gifts were you thinking of... jewelry? Hair accessories? Or anything?"

The girl thought that it was sweet that he was shopping for his niece. If only she knew the truth. Buying bribes to keep your eleven year old blackmailer was not sweet, it was pathetic. Sledge had become the pathetic guy who had to spend money on a child. What made things worse was that Kaitlyn wasn’t even his child to have to get things like fluffy teddy bears for. Hell, he didn’t even buy presents for his actual niece. Charlie probably would have refused anything that he hadn’t witnessed Sledge pay for, after all, he had witnessed his younger brother being brought into the police many times. What was important though was that the teen girl thought he was being a good uncle.

She was hanging onto his every word, which made him smile even larger. Men usually required action to get them to do what you wanted. Women, he realized once nature decided that he should become an adult, were easier to sway with words. And yes, talking with an accent helped. The girl’s tail was curling, and she looked as eager to help him as a puppy was to play. “She’s eleven. Not sure what she fancies. ‘aven’t seen her in years.” About the only thing he had seen Kaitlyn approach with ferocity was a plate of spaghetti. Maybe a bacon necklace actually was something that a young girl would want. “That’s why I’ve got an itch to spoil ‘er rotten.”

>> “She’s eleven. Not sure what she fancies. ‘aven’t seen her in years. That’s why I’ve got an itch to spoil ‘er rotten.”

"Spoil her rotten, huh?" Gina echoed, smiling warmly. That was really cute, but that really threw a wrench in the whole, "shopping based off of a girls' interests" method-- he hardly knew his own niece. What kind of person didn't have an inkling of what their own niece liked? Gina hummed contemplatively and rolled her lips together, brow furrowing. Where couldn't you go wrong, when shopping for a kid you hardly knew.

"Something fun, with bright colors," Gina mused aloud, "Can't go wrong with those when it comes to eleven-year-old girls. Something with a little glamour though, too-- nothing babyish... maybe..." Gina hummed some more and glanced about, tail flicking absently as if she were a cat, about to embark on a hunt, "Feathers. Feathers are pretty big right now, and neon colors are, too. Can't go wrong with those."

This was all probably all totally new to the guy, so Gina went a step beyond just telling him "what" to look for. She'd help him pick out some examples, too. Was she repeating herself? She couldn't help it.

"Here, follow me," Gina instructed, "I'll show you a couple items, give you an idea what to look for... do you have a price range?"

Maybe... necklaces and bracelets, or accessories that weren't earrings. Getting earrings ran the risk of getting such a gift for a girl without pierced ears. Heaven forbid that Gina do that. Gina beelined towards the walls, which boasted most or all of the non-earrings accessories.

Fun and brightly colored was apparently the way to go for young girls, which if he thought about it made sense. All those plastic bits in toy stores were made up with colors so saturated that you wondered if someone vomited a rainbow. No wonder this store was filled with neon colors that hurt his eyes if he looked at them too long. An excellent choice of a store it would seem, though it had been the Justin Bieber playing overhead that had first drawn him in. All young American girls liked him right? To Sledge the teen's songs were like nails being driven into his skull. Every song that had come over the store's radio since had been equally painful to listen to. Still, something kept bothering him. "The bacon? Is that under the category of bright or is that in the babyish category?"

When Gina mentioned feathers Sledge had to nod his head. He had observed how popular it was to have feathers in your hair. It seemed rather tribal to him, wild even. Almost like small female Tarzans running rampant on the streets of New York. The look wasn't all that bad, and when compared to those strange and colorful elastics that were worn in numbers that could be considered a swarm. Feathers were an alright accessory. "Price isn't an issue. I have years to make up for."

Sledge fingered a few of the brightly colored feather accessories. They were soft, but given how brightly colored he knew they couldn't be real. Such a bird wouldn't survive in the wild. To the best of his knowledge his 'niece' did not have pierced ears, but a pair of dangling earrings caught his attention. A Flamingo had obviously used a pink highlighter to brighten up its feathers, but there was a very subtle flower design on the earrings. Coupled with a delicate flower in silver to disguise the base it was actually a nice pair. He looked at his shopping helper. "These would look good on you."

>> "The bacon? Is that under the category of bright or is that in the babyish category?"

"Not babyish," Gina corrected fluidly, looking at the British man with a smile in her eyes, "I mean, it's kind of random. She'll either like it or not... but since you don't know her very well, it could go either way."

>> "Price isn't an issue. I have years to make up for."

"Okay," Gina hummed. She gravitated towards the wall, and her hand found a pendant that bore both bright colors and feathers, holding it up to display to the man. He was surveying a pair of earrings. Gina paused. Those were cute. Thinking that he was holding them up for her approval, Gina said, "Those are great. Bright-colored and feathery."

>> "These would look good on you."

"They what?" Gina echoed, her eyes widening and her face falling in mild disbelief. What? He said it so fluidly, that she almost didn't catch the compliment. Her brain hummed and a blush crept into her cheeks. Obviously, she wasn't one to have comments made so casually to her. Gina just stared at him for a spell, before realizing that all she'd done was look at him in disbelief without saying anything.

"B-but I have weird ears," Gina said quickly, brushing her hair back to display the pointed, elfin ears hidden beneath the mess of curls, "They aren't even pierced."

The blush still lingered in her face, though, which felt uncomfortably hot, "But thank you."

The Brit studied the shy girl's ears the way that an artist would critic a sculpture. "Haven't you heard? Pointed ears are highly attractive. Women swoon over the elf in Lord of the Rings right? I'll admit that Liv Tyler looked rather, well, let's say that your ears are one of your best features," She probably didn't have people complementing her much, and it was almost laughable to see how insecure she was over something as simple as the shape of her ears. "You're what? Mid teens? I doubt that your ears are anything big to worry over."

He held the earrings against her ears. "Pity they aren't pierced. Splash of color there would really brighten up your face." An eleven year old he had no clue for, but someone in their teens he could handle. He'd hide those teen girl magazines behind comics when he was around Gina's age, trying to gain insight into the fairer gender's mind, in hopes that he would be able to smooth talk Anna. As a result he started learning more about fashion than his peers.

>> "Haven't you heard? Pointed ears are highly attractive. Women swoon over the elf in Lord of the Rings right? I'll admit that Liv Tyler looked rather, well, let's say that your ears are one of your best features. You're what? Mid teens? I doubt that your ears are anything big to worry over."

Gina smiled, readjusting her hair so that it hid her ears again, and she glanced aside. Were all British guys this wonderful to mutant women, or was this guy just making sport out of making Gina blush. Gina preened at the compliments uncertain of how to disarm them.

"M-maybe in fantasy films," Gina agreed. But as he went on to speak of Liv Tyler, Gina found herself at a loss of how to really counter what he was saying. Let's face it, she kind of liked being complimented. Didn't everyone? Her ears were her best features, he said, her ears weren't anything to worry about. Gian just beamed, and gave an absent, "Thanks."

The earrings were shifted closer to her face, to where her ears would be.

>> "Pity they aren't pierced. Splash of color there would really brighten up your face."

Fashion-forward little angel, isn't he?

"I don't try to draw attention to my ears," Gina reasserted, though weakly. She was swooning, and not nearly as resolute. Funny what a compliment or two could do to the unsuspecting gargoyle. It seemed so trivial as compared to the rest of her mutation's manifestation, but that's how Gina was.

Yes, elves were purely fantasy, but the teen was younger than him, she probably wasn't even old enough to think boys were cute when the Lord of the Ring movies first came out. She hadn't had to deal with the squealing fans of Legolas. Anna had been one briefly, until she saw Orlando Bloom's mohawk. “Fantasy or no, the point is considered hot by many. Had a girl once who loved ears like yours. Took me months to win her back.”

Sledge shrugged his shoulders and put the pink feather earrings back on the hook. The girl did not have pierced ears and she doubted him that her ears weren't strange. Given the wings, skin complexion, and unique hands and feet, her ears really should be the least of her concerns. It made as much sense as him worrying about his rings getting tarnished when he threw a punch at some poor sod's head. “If all they are doing is bringing attention to your ears, then you aren't wearing the right pair of earrings. It's like fringe, just something to draw the eyes to your face.”

Feather necklaces seemed like an unwise choice for Kaitlyn. He didn't know if she was ticklish or not. Having a bit of feather dangling around your neck would tickle he'd imagine. Picturing the sensation made him get the abdabs. Subconsciously he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to banish the creeping feeling. Some of the hair extensions looked nice, though he didn't want to be the one to try to help get it in. He took up a headband that had a strand of small brown feathers. Blue and green feathers would look bad in the little girl's red hair, and brown would be a nice touch. “Even if you don't fancy your ears, you 'ave a fine face. I always say, work with your features.”

>> “Fantasy or no, the point is considered hot by many. Had a girl once who loved ears like yours. Took me months to win her back.”

It wasn't just the ears, though. Gina's qualm about her ears was a small part of a larger insecurity. Sure, the ears-- the physical mutation-- was considered attractive in a fictional character, but in a flesh-and-blood mutant, it was not nearly so pleasant of a gift. But, at the British man's tale of his "girl" who'd been so enamored with pointed ears, that it'd taken him months to win her back, Gina gave him a grin and a brief laugh.

>> “If all they are doing is bringing attention to your ears, then you aren't wearing the right pair of earrings. It's like fringe, just something to draw the eyes to your face... Even if you don't fancy your ears, you 'ave a fine face. I always say, work with your features.”

"Oh, you!" Gina gasped. Why was this guy saying such things. He was a nothing more that a stranger to her, and she to him-- but this man was a charming stranger. Gina could feel her face heating up, and an embarrassed hand covered her cheek. Gina had a "fine face"? Or, so said this guy. Her smile grew, her face grew warmer.

"I do not," Gina countered. She was losing steam, her arguments weren't gaining any momentum. Why should this guy care if her ears were or were not pierced. As if to make a last ditch effort to not give-in to the peer pressure, Gina countered, "Besides, I'm afraid of needles."

Yeah, she was actually contemplating piercing her ears. Throw enough compliments at a girl, like that, and suddenly the spontaneity of piercing your ears just because a kind stranger said they'd look on you seemed much more appealing.

"Alright, you don't have a fine face," Sledge said, shuffling away from the feathers, "Iffin you want to make me a liar.". Too many downy things and Kaitlyn might get the idea to lie and say she was a bird that was turned into a little girl. He was trying to get her to learn the proper way to lie, but he wouldn't put it past Kaitlyn to try out a story as preposterous as that. A few hats hung on a spinning display and he headed over to it. She had looked interested when he did the small tricks with his fedora, simple things that his fingers and hands did automatically. It was also winter, and cold outside. A coat is always a welcomed gift, but a warm woolly hat could be just as nice.

But you just can't do the same sort of tricks with a woolen hat that you could with say a top hat, or a bowler. Fedoras worked well, and he wondered if the girl would like to learn how to put a hat on by flipping it smoothly in one hand. His fingers felt the fabric of the few fedoras that were on display, checking how thick the fabric was. "It's not a needle really, and it only pinches for 'alf a tick."

His ears weren't pierced, but he had to deal with Anna's friends talking about getting their ears pierced back when he was in school. Once during a pub crawl with his mates they ended up in a tattoo slash piercing parlor where there were many dares to do stupid things that were regretted the next day. Nobody had complained about the pain, though with how sloshed they were it would have been more surprising if someone had. To be honest he wasn't sure how he had gotten out of their with no additional holes in his body or an ink filled scar.

>> "Alright, you don't have a fine face. Iffin you want to make me a liar."

Gina grinned, and laced her arms. While she was set in believing that she wasn’t graced with fine features, the polite stranger was set in believing that she did. The guy redirected his attention to a hat display, and Gina trailed after him, though not without pausing momentarily by the earrings. Some of them were very brightly-colored, totally artsy—earrings that Gina might wear, had she any piercings in her ears.

>> "It's not a needle really, and it only pinches for 'alf a tick."

Gina wavered, shifting her gaze from the earrings to the Brit. He was still surveying the hats, not watching Gina. Gina hummed faintly. It was a testament to how easily one could be persuaded by a total stranger, because now Gina was giving serious thought to getting her ears pierced. Not that she’d admit to it, but she was surveying the earrings rather intently.

“They’ve got some cute hats,” Gina commented casually. You couldn’t go wrong with hats, as long as the person receiving the hat didn’t have a fat head.

Gargoyle girl thought that the hats here were cute. Sledge found himself agreeing with her, but he didn’t want to get a fedora here. He could tell that these hats wouldn’t stand up to the rigors of learning how to hat juggle. They would wrinkle horribly with each tight grasping catch, and each drop. The hat would no longer look cute, it would look sloppy. “Mm. They are cute, but I know an ace hat store where I can get a better one for her.”

He looked at the next display, filled with lip glosses, nail polish and other make up. What age was appropriate for little girls to start wearing make-up? Try as he might Sledge couldn’t remember when the birds back in Bradford did. Again there was the issue of two different cultures. Not everything that was appropriate in England was permissible in the United States. Any child between five and eighteen could drink wine, cider, or beer at home or at a friend’s house as long as they had the permission of a parent. When David was sixteen Charlie could order beer for his younger brother in a restaurant. Here you were able to buy cigarettes at age eighteen, in England you could do the same as long with buying yourself a six pack. Would make-up be wrong for an eleven year old here?

“Well, you’re me expert on the mind of little girls on this side of the pond,” Sledge said, turning to face Gina. With a hand he gestured at the make-up. “Should an eleven year old girl stay away from these sort of things? Or is that too adult for them?”