(SS) An Awkward Gift-Exchange: Mickey + Dalton

[Mickey]

((I'm sorry if this isn't good, but I really didn't know what to do ;'D))

<sub>Flurries filled the night sky, lights flashing at every corner. A lone girl clad head to toe in a hooded-red trench coat with white fur lining, underneath wearing a black sweater with a wide semi-circle cut that hung off her shoulders. The sweater was lazily tucked in to a pair of dark, denim skinny jeans held up by a large brown belt and silver buckle. And, fit for the weather, Mickey had her worn-to-date old leathery snow boots. Now this girl wasn’t into all the holiday happiness, she just enjoyed the outfits. But when it came down to it, you’ll see Mickey sipping on some eggnog after hours, or maybe treating herself to a traditional Santa-head cookie. But when it came to gift giving, that wasn’t Mickey’s daily cup of tea. She hated gifts, because well… She hated surprises; they always tend to be bad for her…

However, in order to keep the holiday going for Little Miss Scrooge, there was a rectangular box with alcoholic beverages organized inside stuffed underneath Mickey’s right arm. She also was holding a plastic bag in her left hand filled with a Christmas cake. As much as Mickey enjoyed ruining someone’s face, and life, she didn’t want to take her chances whenever she was vulnerably placed in the enemies’ hands.

That’s right; her little Secret Santa deal was with a Ranger. How absurd… Since when did Pravus do Secret Santa with Rangers? Maybe this was a newbie joke, and maybe this was just a set up for Mickey! With the thought crawling through her mind, the girl’s visage froze in a grimace. She hated the idea, and so marched off the street dodging cars and ladies with strollers before she appeared at the town square where she had arranged to meet with this… Dalton guy. If this was a joke, Mickey would simply pull out the cake and beer and just chow down, she wouldn’t care who would be watching, and if it was a joke still she’d march back to Pravus HQ and beat whoever gave her this assignment. But if this wasn’t a joke and this guy did show up… Well, then she’d just have to play along. She was sure someone from the Rangers side wouldn’t want to be with a Pravus member, and so the thought soothed Mickey’s fuse.

The girl hunched over the picnic table blanketed in snow, she could feel the water seeping through her coat’s sleeves but she didn’t budge. Michelle, over all, looked pretty depressed sitting there alone with a pack of beer and a bag with cake in it. But really, she was contemplating over her “gifts”. She shouldn’t allow this to bother her so much, but it did. No matter how many times Mickey wanted to just call it off, she couldn’t. It wasn’t as if she was forced, but still… Mickey parted her lips, sighing before she picked herself from the table, and entered a store filled with tiny Christmas figurines. She had decided that it wasn’t enough—the items she got for the guy.

And so the lady walked up and down the miniature aisles as she browsed through one souvenir and the next. Everything wasn’t as she wanted it to be, but as she continued searching she came across a tiny little Glass Angel Christmas Ornament. She held the figurine delicately in her tiny palms, and puckered her lips in thought. Mickey sighed, her eyes closing as she shook her head, but even with her body against buying the object, it was as if her wits made her march right over to the register and buy the product. The lady placed the angel in a brown paper bag, and gave it gracefully back to Mickey who took it rather roughly and left the store eyeing her beer and cake on the picnic table before rejoining her possessions.

The girl swung her legs over the bench and resumed her earlier position. She had thought that since her first two presents were really more of a party material, she’d at least be nice enough to get this guy something worth visiting her for. It was tiny, but if this man was into this sort of things, then this angel should be a nice add on.

Mickey silently waited in her position for this man to come; all the while breaking a can of beer away from the cardboard and popping it open before taking a swig. Michelle sighed before placing the beer on the table and pulling the coat sleeves over her freezing fingers, again she waited her eyes focused on the snow covered bench opposite of her.

“This better be worth my time…”</sub>

[Dalton[ SMILE!]]

Mickey was correct in assuming that Dalton didn't wish to exchange gifts with a Pravus member. Very correct. But, Dalton being Dalton, he just took his orders , and went about his day. In front of him, a rather pissed Elekid walked, a slim package clutched tightly in his hands.
"I better get some damn hot chocolate after this you fuckin' idiot, you know that gig was rigged!"
A few of the younger rangers thought it would be cute, to try and repair the relationship of Pravus to ranger. Or at least , offer a few gifts to stop fighting during the Holiday season.

They picked a ranger they could stand to lose. At least that's how Dalton saw it.

--

The man had traded his very conspicuous red pants, for a pair of well worn black trousers. Above that, a dark green turtleneck sat--and if one looked it was obviously quite tight, and very old. A thin coating of dust was found under it's arms, and around it's bottom hemming. As with Mickey, his foot-wear remained the same--a scuffed pair, of well worn, Mareep wool padded boots. The laces were tucked into his shoes. Those well loved shoes weren't the only constant however, the gold gilded locket still hung about his neck--the glass topped picture was covered in a fine coating of frost. A testament to the freezing weather.

The man shuffled forward in a hunched over fashion, his present held awkwardly under one arm.

Hopefully, they'd reimburse him the value of the gift. After all, he had to poke his heads in a few dirty bars, and talk to a few people he didn't like to find out about this Mickey girl.

--

The Elekid reached the table, his eyes instantly zoning in on the cake.
"So ya're the braus..Mickey fucking..Merry ..something like that?"
Without a introduction of his own, the little terror hefted himself onto the tabletop, and laid the little baggie on the table. With greed filled eyes he reached toward the cake.

Dalton rounded a ramshackle building, and emerged into the Square, a puff of breath-vapors marking his arrival. Hunched over, to avoid the biting wind, Dalton shuffled toward the bench.

As he reached it, he offered up a quick wave to Mickey, and sat his much larger , plain box down on the table.
"Sorry to keep you waiting..."
Dalton half groaned, he recognized that smirk on Wanna's face. No doubt he had just said something cruel.
"I'm Dalton . . ."
Th he man took a closer look at Mickey; she didn't look like your normal crazy grunt--in fact she looked halfway normal.

Gesturing toward the bench, Dalton sat down.
"Wanna get off the table.."
He groaned, his request going completely ignored by the little terror. With a resigned sigh he turned his dead eyes toward Mickey. No doubt, he looked like a alcoholic, who had borrowed some teenage boys clothes.

Though, except for the alcoholic part, that wasn't far from the truth.

--

With a quick movement of his hand he pushed the package toward Mickey. Hopefully his ""friends" had told him the right information.

Then again. .. .he was their new punching bag.

[Mickey]

<sub>Couples… Couples… Couples… They never seemed to die in numbers. Kelp orbs observed the square as newlywed, parents with children, teenagers, all paired up lovingly. It was sickening, and that was one of the things Michelle hated: Relationships. She loved the actions in one, but she never thought of being a part of one. They never last and all they bring is pain, so why would you even want to be in one? Michelle’s view caught the glimpse of a couple attempting to sneak behind a Christmas display, sharing a kiss here and there. The girl rolled her eyes and a devastating smirk peeled across her lips. Michelle leant back in her position, and crossed her arms. Three empty beer cans surrounded Michelle, some kids and adults gave her suspicious glances. People wandered if she was under age, but they never had the courage to approach her and interrogate her. And that made Mickey’s smirk grow larger.

She was untouchable. She was off-limits. Anything or anyone who could insult her would gain a one-way ticket to hell, and she’d be driving the buss. Just as Michelle’s eyes were lazily shutting, a close crunching of snow—resembling foot steps—made her emerald orbs reopen to the table. Instead of there only being her cake, and the cardboard filled with beer, now there was a medium sized, yellow and black striped Elekid. Mickey arched a brow in slight annoyance, but she never budged once. The expression plastered on the Elekid rubbed off Mickey in the wrong way.

When the Elekid insulted the girl, Mickey flashed forward pounding her fist not too far from the pokémon, her eyes dancing wildly. Her lips froze in a long, drawn out frown but she soothed herself. Not wanting to start a scene—at least not now, not when there were innocent little children around; however, that did sound more fun than this stupid gift exchange, the girl had to wait this out, and starting a fight wouldn’t help her patience. Michelle inhaled deeply before exhaling, “Who the hell do you think you are, you little punk? How about you go off and play like your age?”

Michelle’s eyes watched like a hawk as the Kid darted his arm out at the cake, greedily taking his own piece. Mickey fixed her jaw, about to ready a punch at the pokémon, but just as she was unfolding her arms from their snug position, a male’s voice rang through her ears. He sounded older than a teenager, yet his looks didn’t resemble much. Mickey’s kelp orbs found the man—Dalton’s—visage, her green eyes meeting with his fiery hues. The girl trailed her eyes and observed his physique, not too in shape, but that didn’t really hit the girl in any direction. All-in-all the guy look decent, he just… was so apathetic.

Mickey frowned, remembering the fact that he is a Ranger, and so eyed the package he placed on the table. He actually got her something? Michelle now eyed the package, it was a larger-than-normal size, and so she bit her lip in trying to think of what he—or anyone for that matter—would actually get her.

“…It’s… okay you didn’t keep me waiting,” Mickey lied. She really wanted to go a few minutes in just arriving, but again she was doing this for her pride. The girl watched the man, her green eyes hovering over his own hues. She blinked twice before nodding his way, her lips stretched firmly into a content expression.

“Yes, I know you’re Dalton. And I’m Mickey,” Michelle puckered her lips, now pulling her hands back into her torso, pressing them against her chest so they would keep warm from the crisp air.

The girl watched the Elekid feasting from what was suppose to be their’s—Mickey’s and Dalton’s—cake, but as Dalton ordered his pokémon to get off the table and it not listening, Mickey rolled her eyes. “Don’t waste your breath, let him eat all he wants. I guess since he’s yours the cake would be… partly his as well. I didn’t know what you wanted so I just got a simple yellow cake, with chocolate frosting and… Well, I guess since you’re a guy you’d like beer, so here—“ Mickey delicately pushed the cardboard to the man, her eyes not leaving his fiery orbs. “I already had three…”

Mickey slipped her hand into her pocket, her fingers brushing against the sleek exterior of the glass angel. Once again puckering her lips, she had no wrapping for it. She could just present it bare? Mickey rolled her eyes and pulled the ornament out. “I don’t know if you’re into this kind of stuff, but this was just a last minute to do.” Mickey gracefully placed the angel in a heap of ribbon—since it was connected to it by the halo. Michelle’s awkwardly calm hues gently lifted to meet Dalton’s.

“I guess Merry Christmas, right?” Mickey scoffed, “It’s weird isn’t it? Being so close to an enemy?” The girl shook her head, “Well I’ve got no tricks up my sleeves, if that’s worrying you.”

Mickey bit her lip, “Just… enjoy it, okay?”</sub>

[Dalton[ SMILE!]]

The Elekid didn't address the girl's comment, until he had a piece of chocolate cake jammed in his mouth.
"PUNK?! HEH! SAYS THE UNDERAGE DRINKER , with the bling!"
Wannabe half screamed, then he leaned forward, fixing Mickey with a glare. As he spoke a variety of cake crumbs rained down on the table, tinting the once white snow with shades of yellow, and brown. After realizing that the rest of the comment had to do with his age, he rolled his eyes.
"How childish do ya fuckin' think I am?"
Of course, that wasn't what was asked. The Elekid was only 3 months old--but he'd watched enough gangster movies to pose as a delinquent, or someone much older then himself.

--

"Okay.."
Dalton murmured, as the Elekid plopped down, first on his lap, then to the hard packed bench seat beside him. In all truth he had obviously kept the girl waiting---after all, she had been sitting there. When the girl, well . . .half smiled . .. Dalton shakily smiled back. Frankly, Mickey wasn't the only one who wished to hand the gifts over and leave--but he needed some kind of proof he had actually done as told.

Dalton shifted in his seat as the girl introduced herself.
"Jus' making sure, didn't wanna frighten you . . ."
Wait? Who was he talking to? This was a Pravus grunt, one of those brats who children imagined hid under their bed. Frankly, he should have been afraid of her.

But, he wasn't a wimp. In fact, he had retained some muscle mass--but had lost all of his endurance. So if it came down to a fight--years of fighting criminals would give him a edge..

WAIT! This wasn't a fight, it was two strangers handing gifts to one another.

--

At the girl's words, Dalton paused. Frankly when he scolded Wannabe, he usually could care less what the terror did. So most of it was done to look good--or to keep the higher officials off his back.
"Cake's good, as long as it's not. . ."
Oh wait a minute, why was he making a joke? Did he truly feel so awkward, that it had overrode his most depression? What if the girl liked Ice cream cake in the middle of winter.
"Thanks . . ."
Without a word he reached across the table, and grabbed the cake grabber--thingamabob, and laid it on a napkin. Unlike his Elekid he had enough manners to wait until he was done eating before he spoke.

The entire time, as he pecked his way through the slice of cake, his eyes remained fixed on Mickey---relaying more then a little suspicion and tension.

The only reason he ate the cake at all was this: Wannabe wasn't writhing in pain from some toxin.

--

Reaching into the box, he took a single can from inside, and popped the lid, before sighing.
"You are under aged . . I can tell that much . . "
Besides, anyone like her, shouldn't have chugged 3 in so short a time, unless she'd been waiting a few hours. But, he didn't judge it his palce to well . . .assume . . .so he let it drop.

Lifting the can to his mouth he went to tilt it back, just as a yellow hand grabbed the can around the base, and yanked.
"Men first BEEN!"
Dalton watched as the beer half exploded, drenching his mussed hair, and Wannabe's skin in a fine coating of foam. The Elekid began licking the excess off his hands, and winched.
"This is fuckin' nasty!"
. . . .

There went a good gift wasted.

--

Plucking the angel delicately, from Mickey's hands he stared at it in the bright winter light, and nodded.
"Merry . . .Christmas indeed..."
Last year at this time, him and Wanna would be up to their noses in non-alcoholic eggnog. Watching old Christmas movies, and laughing as they did a variety of silly things.

Such as, decorating the other's hair/fur with bows, or attacking each other with rolls of tape. The best part of course was opening gifts, which never really changed.

A new odd or end for Baha, and a article of clothing, or entertainment for Dalton.

--

As the moon splintered from the glass angel, Dalton smiled, and tucked it into his pocket. Not before Wanna saw it of course.
"What do you do with that?!"
Oh yah, Dalton hadn't thought that Wannabe had no idea about Christmas, or trees. That was a explanation, for after they left this place.

Ignoring the Elekid, Dalton chuckled.
"yah . . ."
It was odd.
"Neither do II..though I doubt you were concerned . . ."
At the obvious display of Mickey's nervousness, Dalton relaxed, and gestured toward the two boxes, one large, and the other small.
"So. . .yah . . sorry . . it's been a while since I went gift shopping."
Especially for a woman, or girl in this case.

"I'll try.."
Dalton mumbled, as he turned his eyes skyward, before reaching for another can of beer. This time he managed to drink unhindered. Swallowing slowly, he reached for another piece of cake.
"You can eat some too..I can't eat a entire cake."
Frankly he hopped the gifts worked.

The larger package was more for her "Togepi" then her, a carrying harness for long distances, and a pair of light blue gloves.

The little bag was for Mickey--a pair of black mittens, and a gift card to one of the hipper clothing stores in town. Not exactly where Dalton would shop, seeing as the word "thrift" didn't once appear in it's name.