She was out on the waves before eight a.m., board and all. By ten she's showered off, though she hasn't bothered changing, pulling on a swim cover-up and a pair of Birkenstocks, pulling her hair back into a damp and straggly pony-tail. By ten-thirty she's dined on room service eggs Benedict with crab instead of Canadian bacon with orange juice and cafe au lait, and by ten-forty-five she's applied lipgloss and sunglasses and grabbed her purse to head to door 104.
     The cover-up's a blue summer dress of sorts, easy to pull on and off without any real trouble. Her hair dries in waves and ringlets, and her toenails are painted seashell pinkish-white. A rubber bracelet's worn around one wrist, twanging a bit as Maddie balls a fist to knock three times on the door. "Baz! You up yet...?"

     "Just a moment!"
     Bare feet move across the wooden floor, not particularly in a hurry. When the door to 104 opens, there is Baz -- the abbreviation has stuck quite firmly -- with a towel to his hair and little else. There are the short black Speedo trunks, very good for looking good and very good for swimming, but not for surfing, and the towel, but that is it.
     ...The Oxford Comma suits, and even yesterday's khakis, hinted at what might be beneath all of that, but there it is... very clearly. Tall, athletic, and already tan. He must play futbol with a build like that.
     "Sorry," he smirks as he opens the door wider for you to enter, "I'm running a bit behind this morning. Come in, come in. There's still some juice and coffee left if you want any. Make yourself comfortable, Maddie, I'll be ready in just a moment."
     The suite is enormous and luxurious. There is a dining room, a living room, French doors that open out onto a patio and then the beach itself. There is a corridor, down which one may access the master bedroom and its equally luxurious bathroom. The living room also boasts a bar. Best of all, surely, is the view.
     Balthazar heads down the hallway to the bedroom, mostly closing the door behind him. "Did you have a good swim? You know, I didn't realize there would be actual dolphins in the lagoon..."

     She smiles, blooming a bit pink, and allows her gaze to slip past him. Less because she wants to, more because she's mindful of her own admonition to herself, even if she's trying to ignore her big brothers (the one by birth and the one by adoption). "It's okay, we still have time. Only question - do you have your driver's license with you? They won't rent me a car yet."
     She squeezes in past you, a brush of cotton and the scent of golden amber mingled with hibiscus drifting in her wake. "Wow." Maddie turns in slow circles. "This is amazing. All for yourself? Wow." She says it again because it's actually worth saying. "Oh, I didn't swim, I went surfing. I didn't do too badly, but you know, well... me and surfing." She looks self-conscious for a moment. "Yeah, the dolphins are great. I've got to limit my swimming with them, though, after what happened last year."
     She wanders towards the patio, measuring its location by eye, and the access to lagoon and beach alike. "You're a good swimmer, then? That's good," Maddie calls, creeping gradually towards the hallway. "I'm going to teach you some basics of surfing before we hit the beach, you know."

     "A very good swimmer, in fact. I'm from an island. It sort of goes with the territory. Ah... driver's license. Yes, I have it. And my passport, of course. That won't be a problem. Of course, I'll have to get used to driving on the other side of the street. You will have to watch me." He is quiet for a moment, walking to his closet to retrieve the shirt for the day.
     "It's a bit big for one, isn't it. But I was feeling a little extravagant. So what's that about dolphins? I didn't realize they were dangerous. Apart from when they're a bit randy."
     The door opens and he is wearing a cream-colored, pull-over t-shirt, short-sleeved for a change, and a pair of dark cream colored cargo pants. His feet are cushioned by a pair of expensive sandals, flip-flops really, but certainly not cheap. "Will I blend in?" he wonders with a half-cocked smile. "So...where do we start?" He wanders by the table, taking one of the small oranges as a snack for the road.

     I will watch you, Mister Davies. VERY closely. You have NO idea...
     "Nothing wrong with a little extravagance," Maddie calls lightly. She flops into a chair, legs dangling over the arm of it as she leans back cozily in its unintended cradle. "And that was the problem, yeah. One of the dolphins, um. Liked me. Like ...REALLY liked me. So I'm a little wary in case he remembers me."
     You emerge, and she looks you up and down from behind the sunglasses, grateful for the distance they offer, however slight it is. She does not want you to see her devouring you with her eyes. "I think you'll do nicely," Maddie manages in an almost careless tone of voice. She wiggles her way up to her feet, combing out her ponytail with her fingers. "We start by picking up a car from the front. I know where the store is. I go there every time I'm in Oahu. Shall we?"

     He makes a quick check of his pockets: passport, card key, wallet. And he smiles to you. Whatever it is, I probably shouldn't encourage it. But... it's nice all the same. "I am ready whenever you are," he says. The gesture of his hand is gentle: No, you go ahead. And he comes up slightly behind you, with the scent of orange to meet your hibiscus. The orange in his hands, no doubt, but all from the soap of the earlier shower.
     "I'm surprised I'm not tired. I thought I would end up spending most of the day today in bed unless forced out," Balthazar mentions with a smile in the hall as he pulls the door shut (and locked).
     "Are there any other sights on Oahu? I have heard of the volcanoes, but I'm not certain what island has the best ones to view. And I've heard of the waterfalls and the diving as well. How often have you been to the islands?"

     "Oahu's refreshing. Whenever I come here, I almost don't want to leave," Maddie confesses, heading in front ahead of you. "We've been coming here for years and years. This is my granddad's favorite place in the world. When I told him I wanted to come here for spring break, he jumped at it. I almost expected him to decide to come, too!"
     She is a daintily lithe package, feminine but not quite fragile. She moves with grace and power; if she were a sportscar, there'd be a purr under the hood. "There's volcanoes on most of the islands, and lots of dive sites. Oahu's a little less over-touristed than Maui and Honolulu - some people say the surfing's better at Maui, but I think they're full of it. Oahu's my favorite of any of them, to be honest. If you want, we can go to the rain forest one afternoon, but Pres wouldn't be able to go."
     Maddie dances lightly ahead of you, then turns to walk backwards, hands held behind her back as she watches you from over the rims of her sunglasses. "...Baz, will you tell me something, now, before we go any further? Do you really want to learn how to surf?"

     "I can see why. It is very beautiful. London will be very difficult to go home to," he notes with a smile.
     As you move ahead, lightly dancing, and as you turn, he looks at you as you look at him, as levelly and as seriously. "I never say Yes simply to be polite." His hands are in his pockets and he is walking easily, quietly and still slightly behind you. "I genuinely wish to learn. Why do you ask?" It is said very simply, simply in honest curiosity.
     "I wouldn't want to leave Pres out," he interjects quietly regarding your brother. "Not intentionally. I know from your sister that this has been quite the ordeal for him. I wish there was something I could do apart from writing Hampshireton Hideaway."

     Maddie takes a deep breath, turning away to walk properly. "I'll explain when we're in the car." It is not something she will blurt out where anyone might hear. Especially when anyone might include Loki, and her brother. She remains obdurately silent as you and she pass through tiled corridors to the desk, through all vehicular negotiations and then entry into the rental. By that time, she's pulled up driving directions from the resort to the surf shop.
     She settles into the passenger seat, pulling on her seatbelt and fiddling with the air conditioning while you get yourself situated and familiar with the steering wheel being on the lefthand side. "Mumsie ... mumsie and Gillian are very controlling," Maddie says finally. "They don't mean to be, and Gilly's not as bad as mumsie. Yet, anyway. But mumsie doesn't want Pres to have this operation, and Gilly's - well, she doesn't want to take the losing side in the fight, so she's pretty much staying out of it. Pres is taking it as Gilly siding with mumsie. Which isn't entirely true, but..." She glances at you quickly, smiling embarrassedly and looking away. "Family drama, sorry. Anyway, the only thing that'd really help Pres would be his leg getting fixed. The operation's experimental, which is why mumsie's not willing to let him try. She'd rather he be crippled than dead, and she got so shaken up by him getting hurt in the first place, that that's how she sees it - another chance of him dying."
     Maddie exhales lightly, tucking her feet under her seat and leaning forward to angle the vents better. "Pres doesn't want to be left out. But mostly, he doesn't want to be crippled anymore. I don't know what to do for him except try and treat him like he's not, and hope it doesn't make him too bitter." She stops for a moment. "The surfing... it's just..."

     "This is so strange," he mutters to himself. But after getting acclimated to the Wrong Side of the car and getting the mirrors adjusted, he is buckling himself in and looking at you as he does. There is genuine sympathy in his eyes and on his expression. If only I could heal him myself.
     "I am sorry to hear that. Well, every family has its drama, Maddie. It's to be expected when something traumatic happens. It puts a stress on things. Did the doctors give a percentage chance for success? And if you don't want to talk about it... don't feel obligated. Please."
     His right arm stretches out behind you, his hand resting on your headrest as he twists to back out of the spot and head out of the garage. Balthazar looks to you as you start to speak about the surfing, and then you stop. "The surfing is what...?"

     "Seventy to eighty per cent. But it's still experimental, and mumsie doesn't want Pres volunteering. If he had the money, it wouldn't matter what she wants. He's eighteen, he can do what he wants," Maddie explains, bringing her hands up to her head to tug out the cloth band holding her hair back. She runs her fingers through her hair, trying to prevent any snags or snarls as it dries. "But it could cost up to twenty thousand dollars, and, well..."
     She looks embarrassed. It's vulgar to talk about money, so she changes the topic, even if it isn't one she's much more comfortable with. Thank god for Raybans. I can hide a little bit of my heart behind them. "Pres gave me the big brother speech last night is all," Maddie answers lightly. Despite the lightness, the hurt runs deep. "I just didn't want you to think that you had to be kind."

     Putting the car in drive, Balthazar looks at you. His features soften. "I'm not going to be mean to you. Do you think I'm humoring you? I'm not. Well, you might be humored, but that's really only a side effect. You were kind to me first, remember? You brought me food. I never disregard people who bring me food," he leans in with a smile.
     But he knows what this is getting at. "I didn't really come on this trip with any ... expectations, you know what I mean?" Balthazar glances to you as he drives from the hotel garage to the main road. "Be sure to tell me where to turn. I have no idea where I'm going."
     He is quiet a moment, but he glances to you as much as driving allows. "He is your older brother. He's going to want to protect you, you know. There's nothing you can really do about that. I'm the same way with my younger sisters, even though I know they can more than take care of themselves. But don't worry. No one's asked me to come here and have a good time except you, and I'm glad I'm here. And...yes... I want to learn how to surf. Oh, I meant to thank you for the song as well. I liked that. I hadn't heard it. Does that lessen the cool factor? Oh well, one cannot be hip on every topic..."

     "You want to make a left up at the light." Maddie leans forward a bit to point. "Go down about a mile, until you see the big orange billboard, and make a right." She doesn't even need the auto-directions. She knows the way by heart. "I brought you food because that's what you do. I ... I know how Gillian does things. It's never any fun when she does. And it doesn't help that she really doesn't mean it and she's blind to it. I want her to open her eyes, but..."
     It is again the elephant in the room, or in the car, as it happens. She lets it die away, then glances over at you, smiling faintly." I know he wants to protect me. But that doesn't mean I'm going to let him."
     It is a warning shot, fired over your bow. The next shot is perhaps unintentional, but just as much set to kill instead of to stun, as she scrambles up onto one knee to lean over to whisper in your ear, "I told you. I like you."
     Just as quickly, she's settled in her seat. "Make a right into the shopping plaza with the purple orchid design," Maddie directs. "It's all the way on the end."

     Balthazar is surprised, again, by the whisper at his ear. You are there with your hibiscus and all and then you're plopping back in your seat. You are a gust of sweet smelling wind, capricious and playful and sweet...
     "Shit," he stops at a red light nearly run, and he looks at you. Girl, you're going to bring me down.
     "I like you, too, Maddie," he says. He doesn't ask what or whom your brother is trying to protect you from. He has a pretty good idea.
     Balthazar smiles a little as he pulls out at the green light, turning left as instructed and heading for the orange sign. "There it is. You have been here once or twice, haven't you?" At the orange billboard, he makes a right, slowing for traffic.
     "I do want you to know that I like you for you, not your sister. I'm pretty well done with that chapter of my life," he draws out as he glances to the right, looking for the shopping plaza. Seeing it, he puts on the turn signal. "I took it a bit badly. But looking back on it she never promised me anything that she didn't, in the end, deliver. I worked hard to impress her. I didn't. She's moved on. And so have I." He shrugs a bit, looking at you as he makes a turn into the shopping plaza. "We don't know one another well. But I know that I like hanging out with you."

     "Once or twice," Maddie agrees, stretching back in her seat with an elegant arching of her back. Her cheeks grow pinker, but she looks straight ahead and not at all at you. "I'm glad you've moved on."
     She adjusts her purse in her lap. That came out a bit flat, after all. What am I supposed to say? I don't want to wear my heart on my sleeve, but I have to say something. I should, anyway. I can't leave it there.
     "I love my sister," Maddie says finally, two fingers moving to the edge of her sunglasses to shift their angle. "And I know I'm as flawed a human being as anyone else, Baz... but you're not the first guy she's done this to. It isn't that she means to, but ... empathy is something she's still working on." She bites at her lower lip. "She did tell me about you. And - I could say more, but there isn't any point, is there? You're over her, and I'm her little sister."
     And I don't want you to know I've been pining. I don't want you to look at me with sympathy or pity, I don't want to hear how I'm not Gillian...
     "Anyway," Maddie says lightly, unclipping her seatbelt, "let's go buy you surf gear. I want you on the waves before four."

     The car's off and he softly laughs. "You know, I'd just as soon not talk about her the entire trip. Can we make today a No Gillian day? I'm here, she's not, and I want to have a good time." He chuckles at that. "I don't really care how many bodies there are on the Gillian Expressway. I'm standing and I've brushed myself off. I think we can move on, oes?"
     It's Yes but a foreign sounding Yes. Keys in his hand and door opening, Balthazar unfolds himself easily from the Toyota Celica. It's a convertible at least.
     He's smiling at you, rounding the car to hold the door open. He's a European gentleman, after all. "So what's the first lesson of surfing... apart from learn how to swim and keep your mouth closed?" He closes the door behind you and presses the autolock until it chirps back.

     "I'm fine not talking about her if you are," Maddie retorts. She smiles at you, sliding out of the car and up to her feet with a slight bounce. "The first lesson? Oh, Baz, just you wait!"
     She leads you into the shop, looking around and inhaling the unique scent that's always in surf shops; a mixture of crushed sand, sawdust, surf wax and sea salt. It's a little bit dim inside, especially after the bright Oahu sun, but there's racks and racks of swimsuits, beach sandals, surf shirts and board shorts, and towards the front, sunglasses and tanning lotions.
     Towards the back it changes to a more utilitarian look, with skateboards (not many) in front and surfboards on the walls. A door leading to a workshop is closed with a 'NO ADMITTANCE WITHOUT AN EMPLOYEE OR MANAGER' sign on it. A pricelist for surfboard repairs and customizations is posted next to it.
     "Home away from home," Maddie announces happily. "Come on. Let's get you set up!"

     Good... now it will officially become a vacation. If I am going to have to talk about her all week, she may as well just be here.
     Balthazar smiles back before he follows you inside. "I'm good with that." He holds the door open for you -- it is as much for practicality as it is for chivalry. You're the one who knows where you're going and what you're looking for. He smiles to himself as he watches you...
     You're just so...sunny...
     You are Oahu, in a way. It's hard to imagine you anywhere else...
     "I have the black card," the ultra unlimited American Express card. "So... where do we start? Board or gear?" Balthazar's gaze is captured by the new and unusual sights of surf gear. Colors and patterns -- they are so foreign to him. Nothing in London -- nor in his home -- is anything like this.
     He officially looks like a tourist...

     She turns and she looks at you, and she smiles, crossing over to you and leaning up to finger your shirt. "Well, first," Maddie tells you, "we need to get you out of these clothes..." Oh, yes... She pinkens, but finishes, "And into more suitable attire, monsieur! Come on, let's have a look and figure out your size while we're at it."
     She turns to head for a rack of shorts, flipping through them and selecting, seemingly at random, half a dozen pairs. "Here, see if any of these suit you. You want them to be pretty snug around the waist, and to have a drawstring you can tie. It helps if you have hips a little - the less you have hips, the more you want a backup pair underneath."

     What is it about the West women? He feels the air crackle a little when your finger touches his chest. He smiles, a slight and wandering smile, peering down from on high past long red-brown lashes. "Okay," he tries an American phrase for you, his accent playing on it oddly.
     Taking the shorts, he looks down at himself. "I think I have hips." You saw him in next to nothing. He's fairly cut. And, yes, he has hips. Amused expression on his face, and maybe slightly embarrassed, he looks up at you. "I've never had a woman dress me," he says quietly near your ear. "I like the purple ones, red, blue... these orange will make me look orange." He gives that back to you but he takes the rest, glancing around for a fitting room. There is a short stand of curtained closets. "You going to come with?" He grins. "Not in, I mean. That would be awkward..." he chuckles.
     Maybe.
     "I will be in the middle one," he whispers, and he heads that way, drawing the curtain closed with a wink...
     Sandals off. Then the cotton pools to the floor. You can see one leg lift, then the other. When he pulls back the curtains, he's in trunks and trunks alone -- his shirt is hanging on the mirror. The purple board shorts are longer, to his knees, and he has enough hips -- and they're cut enough -- to hold them in place. "What do you think?"
     Purple ... suits him...

     She grabs a couple of shirts, blushing like a rose and refusing to look until she hears the curtains whisper closed. Then Maddie turns round like a shot. She watches, hugging the shirts to her chest as the sandals come off, then the cotton, and she clears her throat. When the curtain begins to open, she abruptly shakes the shirts out, trying to act natural.
     Oh. My god. Am I even going to be able to?
     Abruptly, she holds out the shirts. One is blue and gold, the other is black and white. "They look good," Maddie assures you, making a point of meeting your eyes with her own. "Here, try these, see what you think. They've got zips - even in Hawaii's waters, it's easy to lose a lot of body heat when surfing, especially if you're doing it for any length of time. So you want the insulation. These should be about the right size, I think. Once we've got that, we'll see about picking out a board and the right accessories. Do you want sunglasses?"

     "You don't look sure," Balthazar's mouth pulls slightly to the side and he takes the shirts that are thrust out to him. He's not sure about the colors. Maybe not with the purple. But he has other shorts. He'll try on the others. His face is warm with amusement as he tugs the curtain closed. "Yes, please... my sunglasses aren't really made for the water. I suppose I'll need something with a special UV rating or something good for the water..."
     He is quiet for a bit as he exchanges the shorts. Purple is switched out for red, and the black and white shirt is pulled on and then zipped up. You look strange, he thinks to himself as he sees his reflection in the mirror. He exhales a slight laugh, and when he opens the curtains, he's in the black and white form fitting top and the red board shorts.
     A moment for the physique. The shirt makes the most of it -- broad shoulders and chest are accentuated, and the trim waist. "I look like a really big jockey," Balthazar laughs. "Don't you think? Maybe that one over there? The red and blue?"

     "I'll get you some sunglasses," Maddie calls. She hurries to a row of them, scanning them with a brief frown until she finds some pairs which look doable. She grabs a padded length of cord as well, with a locking bead, then hurries back to where you are changing.
     You pop out, and she admires your physique wordlessly for a moment. She bites at her lower lip, then nods, ponytail bobbling. "A bit too jockey-ish," Maddie agrees shakily. "Red and blue, sure. Or you could go for the purple and find a purple and white one to match?"
     "That would be good. I like purple." It does wonders for his skin tone. It calls for rich colors. He reaches for the zipper, unzipping the shirt and pulling it off, curtain open. "See if there's a purple and white or even a purple and red one," Balthazar suggests, tugging the curtain closed again.
     The other shorts are abandoned, the purple ones pulled on again. Yes, much better, he decides. He tugs the curtain open again, and gathering the other items in his hands. He won't be needing those. "Is there any special footgear?" Balthazar wonders as he steps out of the dressing room. "Or are you just as nature intended? Bare footed."
     He hangs the rejects on the reject rack and waits for the next round.

     "Bare feet when you're on your board," Maddie answers absently, hunting through the racks with flushed cheeks. She comes up with two - one is purple with white, the other is purple and ice blue. "No purple and red," she calls. "Usually you get red and navy or red and black, maybe red and yellow. Here, though, two purples. Otherwise I can give you red and white."
     She turns towards you again and gulps, then heads forward with the purples held out to you in one hand, sunglasses sprouting like so many weeds in her other. "When you get your shirt on," Maddie tells your chest, "we'll see which of these sunglasses has a snug, comfortable fit. You'll use the saver cord anyway, though, if you're planning on wearing them in the water. I don't recommend wearing 'em on the water - we'll get you some zinc to cut down on the glare instead."

     The blush is impossible to miss. He enjoys it for a moment. What's not to enjoy? A girl blushing while she dresses you is one of the top five delights in the universe. Suddenly, what started out as a task becomes an elaborate dance of flirtation. The paso doble has begun...
     Balthazar takes the shirts and retreats to the curtained closet. With a tug of the fabric, the dance would seem to be paused -- but one does not have to be visible to flirt. There is silence as he pulls on the purple and ice blue shirt, zipping it until it is snug, fitted as it should be. "I think this is it..."
     The curtain is pulled open again and he stands there in the purple and blue -- royal colors, in which he looks like the prince he is. "What do you think, Maddie?" Balthazar steps out of the dressing room and over to you, reaching for the sunglasses. "What is the zinc?" he wonders, slipping the first pair of sunglasses on. The lens have an iridescence about them, yellow for broad spectrum sun protection. "Do I look too much like a German techno dj in these?" He smiles and sunlight peeks out at the corners of his mouth, warmth and humor suffuse upon his face.

     She chews on her lower lip while you can't see her. WANT. The air is electric; she's almost holding her breath, and when the curtain opens, she lifts her chin as she drinks you in. "I think it's absolutely perfect and you shouldn't change a thing," Maddie answers you, after she's gotten a bit of breath back. She surrenders the sunglasses to you and takes a step back. "You don't look German at all. Here, put this on the earpieces." She tosses the cord to you, then whirls to run away.
     Back to the counter! She slides sunglasses back in their respective homes, and grabs a tube of zinc oxide in bright yellow - to match the sunglasses, no doubt. "This is zinc," she tells you. It'll reflect sun away from your skin entirely, it's pretty much waterproof, and if you smear it under your eyes and on your nose, it keeps those spots from burning and helps reflect glare away from your irises. The sun in the sky isn't the only problem - water reflects light, so you want to keep from corona burns."
     She is knowledgeable on her topic, and when she talks, the flirting recedes but does not entirely go away. Maddie advances on you again, tube in hand. "Bend down."

     Balthazar smiles as you whirl away, removing the sunglasses to fix the cords on the ends. With the stretch cords attached, he puts the glasses back on but rests them on the top of his head. Just like any good Californian would do. As you advance with the tube of zinc, he wears a look of curiosity as he unzips the shirt. He pulls it off, sunglasses undisturbed, and then bends down a bit, his curiosity receding somewhat.
     There is that crackle again as he stands over you, bending though he does. "Corona burns sound painful," he notes with the quirk of a smile. "I'd like to avoid them if I can." There is a quiet humor to his voice as he looks at you, and his smile lingers.
     "So how long have you been surfing?"

     "They are," Maddie agrees, the pink rising again. She opens the tube and breaks the seal with a twist of the top, then leans in to draw on your face, solid blocks under either eye and a stripe on your nose. "There, now you can be Maori."
     She looks at you, her head tilted at an angle. "Oh, since I could walk, just about. I don't really remember - pretty much all my life," Maddie confesses. Her voice is quieter now. "This ... will probably sound silly, but ... well, it's why I'm not entirely sure what to do with my life after I get done with school, kinda. I thought about doing pro surfing - it'd be like going into the convent if I were Catholic. Surfing is just ... this isn't going to make any sense to you yet." She shakes her head. "But surfing is the closest I get to religion. When I'm anywhere else, I can talk to god. But when I'm on my board, catching a wave - god talks back."
     Her embarrassment is obvious, and she covers it with sudden mischief. "Anyway, you need more zinc!" She leans in in a furtive dart to scribble on your chest.

     But I do understand. I feel the same when I'm on stage... and when I'm flying...
     Balthazar smiles, seeming a magical thing with the zinc warpaint on his skin. "It makes sense," he replies. "I feel the same way on stage. I didn't realize there was a pro surfing scene. I can imagine you living here, being a professional surfer. Even if you didn't surf professionally, I can see you here. You're like the sun in Oahu."
     He doesn't bother dodging the furtive dart. He lets it land upon his chest. He is no coward. "If you cover me in this, it's going to be difficult trying on tuxedos later," he chuckles a warning. "I will change out of this then...and I think we can get the board." He touches the zinc stripe on his chest and draws a star on your own cheek. "Now we match," Balthazar murmurs. He smiles, making a star with it. "I'll be right back."
     The curtain rattles on its rings as he tugs it closed, a grin tossed to you as he disappears.
     The sun...

     She blushes as you dart back, with your hexagram and your finger on her cheek, her face turned up to yours for a moment with furtive emotion. You pull back, and she pulls away, capping the zinc tube slowly as she chews again at her poor lip. "Singing does it for me a little, but - in a different way," Maddie tells you through the curtain, back turned to it. "I don't think I could surf professionally because - I love god, you know? But I love life more. It's ... doing it professionally, I can't make it my job, even though it's tempting. But surfing's something I want to keep for just me."
     She clears her throat, exhaling slowly. "I'll go check out the board. Come find me when you're ready, okay?"
     Find me...

     "I didn't realize you sang," Balthazar quirks interested from behind the curtain. "I understand about keeping what you really love to do pure. Even if the band doesn't make it, I'll still play and write. It's... just what I do. Alright," he says, pulling on his street clothes. "I'll find you..."
     It is a few moments later before he's put back together. In his hands, the purple shorts, the purple and blue shirt, and the sunglasses. He places the items on the counter near the cash machine. "We're still looking," Balthazar says quietly, his accent an odd lilt on English, and he heads to the back, following the boards on the wall as they change in size, function and price.

     She's taken position under three boards mounted on the wall. "You want one of these, based on your height and weight," Maddie tells you. "It should be a good balance. These are around ten feet - they're called longboards for the obvious reason. These're also epoxy, which is a lot more indestructible than the fiberglass boards. Any board's going to get dinged up a bit, so..."
     The yellow star is still on her cheek. She hasn't wiped it off yet. Right now, she's all business. "I'd say go with this one," she points to the middle of the three, "because it's got a place for you to put a leash. Which will be the next thing we buy." She looks to you, then grins. She sings quietly, voice pitched just so that you can hear her and you alone.
     "Took back time, take an instant pleasure
     Credit is due for the life of leisure
     Get to work and work gets done
     Best at being was not best at all
     Face the facts, being best got bitter
     Simple tastes won't suit me better
     Used to matter but that got done
     Best at being was not best at all
     Nothing stays the same
     Always change to remain
     Less than fine peace of mind
     Keep in check there is no time
     Tasks take time and time took effort
     Packed in pieces and pieced together
     Tend to work and work gets done
     Best at being was not best at all..."
     She finishes, then turns away as if nothing unusual at all just happened. "So I'd say get this board, or if you want to save a few bucks, either find something similar in their used stack, or buy fiberglass, but if you find you like it, you're just going to have to spend the money again to replace or upgrade." Maddie moves down the line a bit. "Let's get you a leash."

     "Leash?" Balthazar wonders. His eyes scan the boards, shapes, colors and sizes. How strange it suddenly seems. It is a completely different world from the two he knows. For a moment, he forgets that he's a magical thing; everything around him is just so much stranger than he. Balthazar looks from the boards to you. "And what does the leash do?" In his smile there is a question, a mark as clear as the yellow zinc on his nose and beneath his cinnamon colored eyes. The yellow suddenly makes the amber more noticeable.
     The curious look slowly glides into pleasant surprise as suddenly you're singing. And he recognizes the voice. And he smiles with that recognition, peering at you for a moment with that half-cocked you cheeky devil smile. "I really liked your track on the CD," he says, just between you. "You have a great voice. Very sweet, the tone of it. Very charming," and his smile softens. "I think we are going to have to have a sing-a-long night. Very Beach Blanket Bingo, with a beach bonfire and a guitar."
     And he is charmed. The sound lingers with him a moment in a kind of reverie. As you point to a board, he finally looks away from you and in its direction. "Then I will get that one. I think it is worth the investment. So... a leash?"

     She goes pink, self-conscious under your scrutiny even as she tosses you an insouciant smile. "I'm glad you like it." Maddie murmurs as she moves over to the shelf opposite the wall. "These are leashes. You take it and you wrap this end around your ankle. The other attaches to the board. It's actually very important - with a little getting used to it, you'll know where the board is and can react when you wipe out, so you're less likely to get injured by your own board. It also keeps it from injuring anybody else, and from you potentially losing your board - which would really suck."
     She selects a black and yellow and green leash, the bright colors in contrasting stripes, and offers it to you. "You've probably noticed there's nothing reflective in any of this, nothing metallic. You want to keep it that way," she informs you. "But we still need to get you... let's see... board wax, and do you already have sunscreen? If you do, then that's it. I'm keeping it stripped down to essentials." You receive a mischievous grin, the blush beginning to fade. "Unless you can think of anything, I think we can get these and check out and get some lunch?"

     "I do have sun protection, yes," though it's the non-traditional variety. Taking the leash and lying it across a shoulder, he turns toward the cashier and the pile of stuff. "Now... I have a question. Do you think we can prop the board in the back? Maybe we should come back for it on the way to the hotel and beach...after lunch. If I put down the top, I'm sure we can get it positioned there, but I don't think this leash will stop it from walking off."
     Balthazar adds the sunglasses and the leash to the pile. "All of this, board wax, and the center board there, the middle of three..."
     "Anything else?"
     "I don't think so? I think we're good for now." How strange his accent sounds, a lilting, crazy dance -- part British and part something else far more exotic. It seems all the stranger as he doesn't particularly look British. He's not translucent white for starters. His cheekbones are high, his nose is smallish, the mouth is full (not the British thin-lip) and his skin tone is completely wrong. He could be Spanish, but not British...
     Balthazar removes a black card from his wallet. American Express Centurion. Rather. His passport is offered for identification.
     "I am hungry. But then, when am I not," he says to himself with a smile. "So... where shall we go for lunch? We need to find a place for formal wear if I'm to keep pace with the Wild Wests," he notes. "I think we have time for that after, and then to the beach?"

     "I was thinking we could just get it delivered to your rooms. We could bring it with us if you want, but it's not like it's that far, I don't imagine the delivery fee'd be that much. If it is, we can pick it up on the way back and seatbelt it into the back if we take the top down."
     Maddie grins at you, tossing her ponytail as she heads to the counter with you. "Lunch! I was thinking we could go to the Pineapple Shack. Enormous burgers, tuna steak sandwiches, pork and coconut milk and rice, and of course pineapple slices. They've got the best milkshakes, too." She idly bumps your side with her hip. "I'm not that wild. Lunch, formal wear, then surfing. Good. It gives us time to digest."

     Grinning and bumping her back, Balthazar looks to the dude behind the counter. "That would be worth it, whatever the fee. I'd like the board delivered to the Kahala, Room 104."
     "You got it. That makes the grand total thirteen-seventy-five, mate."
     Balthazar smiles quickly at the mate. He nods and slides the card his way, holding open the passport. It's a very fancy passport. The cover is a deep scarlet red, with a golden coat of arms upon the cover. Inside, is his full name: Balthazar ap Iowerth of Powys, Sir. Under alias, it lists Davies. It's a stage name. And while the passport is British, his name paged and personal information happened to be printed upon a highly decorated page emblazoned with the Welsh dragon.
     "Pineapple slices and coconut milk? Definitely," he goes wide-eyed in sudden starvation mode, taking his card, his passport and finally his bag. "Can we get that by three, do you think?" he asks the guy behind the counter.
     "No problem, man. It'll be there."
     "Alright," Balthazar says to Maddie, holding an arm out to usher her ahead. "Take me to the Pineapple Shack..."

     Maddie notices the dragon, though doesn't look closer than that. "Oh, that's pretty," she remarks idly. "You should get that airbrushed on your board." She recognizes it as Welsh, and allows it to otherwise pass. She grins with that mischief at the fellow behind the counter, telling him, "I want a discount on my next board, Mike. Bringing you good customers the way I do!"
     She takes your arm as she turns away from the counter, marching you out with a laugh. "Pineapple Shack ahoy. You can't miss it." There's a quiver to her smile which is paired with bright eyes, as she points out and to the left. Sure enough, there's a building...
     Shaped like a pineapple, no less...
     If pineapples were electric blue and neon green...
     "The food's much better than the decor," Maddie tells you solemnly.

     Pocketing the passport, with another flash of the dragon to you, Balthazar raises eyebrows of astonishment. Not that such airbrushing could be doe, but that he hadn't thought of it. "Could they do that before I leave, do you think? I might be hard pressed to find a surfboard artist in London..."
     Arm in arm with you and stepping out onto the street, he realizes he has yellow stuff still on his face. Smirking, he rubs it off onto his arm, your arm and the bag all tangled together with his other. "I don't know, I rather like the decor. But you know the Brits and their fascination with tacky bric-a-brac."
     "My treat, alright?" he says close and quiet. "In thanks for inviting me, for starters, and for setting me on the right fashion and surfing track. So, what do you want?" he says as he arrives, at the window of the electric blue and neon green pineapple. "A milkshake... I'm having a coconut milkshake to be sure. And I think the pork and coconut milk and rice and pineapple slices," he's giving his order to the waiter as he goes. "And the Kahuna burger, that sounds good. And the yam frites." He looks at Maddie, "You're not one of those girls who doesn't eat are you? I'll just warn you now, I don't put up with that sort of nonsense," he chuckles.

     "Oh, definitely. But not here, the artist here isn't that hot," she's lowered her voice so as not to offend Mike. "There's a guy down the beach from the resort, after we've done our surfing we'll drop your board off with him." Maddie grins at you as she wraps her arms around your arm. Be still, my beating heart.
     She looks up at the menu. "You're welcome," Maddie answers you, just as quietly. "I ... wanted you to see it. And that maybe we're not so bad, you know?" She looks over at you, her grin splitting her face wide as she laughs up at you. "Me, not eat? Do I look like I need to diet?" She frees your arm to step back, spreading her arms up from her sides. "I stay active, and I eat what I want! I'll have the Oahu burger, the yam frites, and a side of coconut rice with pineapple. And a chocolate shake." She shakes her head saucily. "Me, not eat," she mutters. "The indignity!"

     "I know better, honestly," Balthazar chuckles, "...but no... you don't. I didn't mean it like that. You know the girls: only ever eat salads in front of guys and only maybe half of the salad while they secretly struggle not to faint from hunger? So, good, you have my undying respect." The shakes arrive now, the rest is on the way. The girl behind the counter gives Balthazar a number (19) in place of his money. It's hardly fair.
     "I'm glad I took the offer. I felt a little weird at first, elbowing my way into your family vacation." He hands you your chocolate shake as he, with you, the number, the bag, and his own shake heads for one of the brightly painted picnic tables outside. "And I didn't think you were all bad," he rolls his eyes a touch. "I don't even think Gillian's bad. Ah, I broke my own rule. I talked about her. Sorry. I was happy to meet your brother. He's had a bit of a rough go of it. I ... don't know whether it's appropriate or not, but... I'd like to help him, if I can. I just hate to see someone not get the help they want and need. It's not pity, or anything. I just can't see the reason for it. Seems a bit needless. And I don't like needless suffering."
     Such an exotic thing -- a sun god sipping a coconut milkshake near a brightly colored pineapple hut in Oahu. "This is good," he all but sighs it like a man in love. What's not to love about that creamy goodness? "Wow," Balthazar grins, "you weren't exaggerating. I haven't had many shakes, but this is, by far, the best I've had."

     She sinks down on one of the benches, taking a slurp from her straw in vacation contentment. One foot waves idly from side to side, and she turns on the bench to regard you. "She was all wrong for you," Maddie tells you plainly, "and I could tell it from when she first wrote to me about you. I was rooting for you, but... anyway. Pres."
     "Pres isn't happy," she pushes a strand of hair away from her nose to tuck it behind one ear. "I don't know how you could help, short of paying for the operation, and I don't know if Pres would let you, even if you were willing to give twenty grand to someone you've barely known a full day. Mumsie's ..." she sighs. "Mumsie means well, and I keep telling myself that, but ... I'm on Pres' side in this, all the way."
     She leans back, stretching so that her head and shoulders rest on the table, legs held out at an angle off the ground. "You should try their pineapple-chocolate shakes. I love those all on their own."

     "I will try that one tomorrow. Or perhaps chocolate and coconut. That sounds pretty extravagant." There's a bell ring and a call: "Nineteen!" Food's up! Balthazar stands, leaving his shake on the table and heading for the stand. The tray is crowded with food, and he's suddenly starving.
     "Twenty thousand is a lot, but at the same time it is not," he mentions as he hands you the Oahu burger, the yam frites, and your coconut rice with pineapple. The rest is all his. He looks at you, a lifted look between long lashes, as he unwraps the Kahuna. "As far as surgeries go, that's fairly reasonable." He is as confused as anyone as to why 'Mumsie' -- or any mother -- would let such a small amount stand in the way of her son's happiness and health. "Well, maybe the band could hold a fundraiser," he sips at the shake in between decimating the burger, but very politely -- never with his mouth full. "I bet we could hold a few parties and make a dent in that. It's worth a try. Doing nothing doesn't seem to make sense."
     Balthazar doesn't respond to the Gillian information. Part of him is curious about what she said, but the better part of him is telling him that it doesn't matter. Nothing would be improved by knowing. "I didn't see it as clearly," he smirks at himself. "I had a friend who did," uncle really, "...but you never want to hear that. So... she was all wrong for me. Who would be right?"

     "You'd have to talk to Pres about it. I ... I want him to be able to have the operation, but it has to be his choice, you know?" Maddie gives you a frank look, then picks up her burger with undeniable lust. The Oahu burger is kobe beef with pineapple and tomato and avocado. She begins to devour it with wholehearted interest that is no less thorough for being one-sided.
     You ask your question; that makes her pause. She eats more slowly, then puts the burger down on its wrapper and picks up a napkin before she swivels to look at you. Me. Me, me, mememememe. Damn you! Me.
     Aloud, Maddie answers, "Well, somebody who voluntarily listens to music written later than the war of 1812, for starters? Somebody who can - who can react to spontaneity and passion." She lowers her eyelashes, leaning over to pick up a yam frite. "Somebody who isn't afraid of changing the rules, not just breaking them."

     "Perfectly understandable. It's just something to think about," he nods regarding Pres. And he won't push it. The idea is floating out there. It will either be lifted out of the water...
     Or it won't be...
     His burger, large as it is (and rich, with the half-pound of Kobe beef), is already half devoured. Balthazar pauses on that to enjoy the yam frites and shake. Shaking his head with a chuckle, Balthazar rolls his eyes at himself. "Oes, her ...complete lack of interest in music was sort of a flag." He sighs, that smirk twisting. "I felt really stupid for a full week after that," he admits quietly. "It was all right in front of me. You know, you write a song for a girl, I suppose you have a certain... expectation of appreciation. Now, that actually made me a bit mad. But then," he winks as he draws down the milkshake to half done. "I realized it didn't matter. The song's good. It's getting played." He shrugs at that, then looks at you for a few quiet moments. "You seem to have a fairly good beat on me, Maddie West. Am I so transparent?" His quiet look transforms in to a warm grin. It kindles sparks of humor in his eyes.
     A yam frite in hand, Balthazar points it at your nose. He inclines his head, giving you more than a little consideration, and he eats the yam frite. And the a few more. "I'm hoping to do a bit of writing at some point this week. Maybe something will come up around the fire... whenever it is we get around to that. I hope the week doesn't go by too quickly."

     She focuses on her burger for a little while, finishing it off before she answers you. "Maybe it's just wishful thinking," Maddie answers lightly. "I don't think you're transparent, though. Is sunlight transparent, really? You can't look at it too long or even be in it too long without getting burned."
     She hops to her feet, crumpling up the wrapper. "Be right back. The seagulls get very daring on anything that can blow away too easily." Maddie heads for the trash cans with their purple pineapples on the side, swinging her hips as she puts a little distance between you and her. The color rises into her cheeks as she does.
     Stupid, stupid, stupid! It isn't as if he likes you like that. It isn't as if Gilly told him as much about you as she told you about him. If anything, she probably told him how young you are, how impetuous, how immature. Way to make Pres' point, Gilly. Well... shit. What am I going to do?

     What was that? Was that a compliment or an invitation? Wishful thinking? Balthazar peers at you as you flutter away -- butterflies and seagulls have nothing on you. I know what you want, but do you know what it means yet? Balthazar finishes the last two yam frites and rises with the rest of the tray and food-stained wraps to the waste bin.
     "You're used to the sun," he notes easily, without a trace of teasing. "You know how to protect yourself from sun-burn." He looks at the yellow star on your reddened cheek, then he smiles a little as he sets the now empty tray on top of the bin.
     "It's alright," Balthazar whispers near your ear. "I like you, too. Let's finish so we can get on the water. I'm anxious to get started..."

     The color rises in her face again at your whisper, and her heart beats a little bit faster. She grabs her shake to save it from the bin. "Let's go," Maddie agrees, trying not to let it show on her face. "The world's different when you're on the water, after all."
     I like you, too...

Posted by rowan at March 29, 2009 08:20 PM