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Zoe always had a favorite cousin growing up. He was the one that introduced her to skating and had always been so kind and patient with her rambling. Really, it was his own fault he got demoted. If he wanted to stay at the top he shouldn't have had such a cute daughter.
Zoe has a favorite cousin, therefore Mira and Rumi have a favorite cousin.
So when Zoe's 2nd favorite cousin called to tell her that little Pumpkin (Daaaad! Don't call me that!) was insisting he invite Auntie Zo to her birthday, Zoe snapped to attention. The party miraculously fell during a break in the band's schedule and within seconds of ending the call she had Bobby on the line to hold the dates.
"At least since we're here," Mira gestured vaguely at America around them, "and with the kids still little, we don't have to work so hard to stay in stealth." Before Zoe could launch into her many (many) branching thoughts about the refreshing simplicity of their disguises, Rumi chimed in. "Plus, Bobby made sure the party has exclusive use of the venue." Zoe gasped in affront and Rumi frowned, adding, "she's his favorite cousin too." "Of course she is, not that," Zoe dismissed with a wave, "I can't believe you just called it 'the venue'. That is an insult to the history of venues. Every event planner who has ever lived is rolling in their graves!" She flung her arms out for emphasis. "It's not a venue, its a fucking Chuck E. Cheese."
Disguises in place (simple comfortable clothes and plain hats), the girls piled into, then (eventually), out of, their ride. Facing what Mira was quietly certain would be 'The Venue' in their heads until the end of time, she was forced to admit Zoe had a point. It was a grungy beige box with a giant rat on the front. Next to it sat a small grungy beige strip mall where none of the stores that were even occupied seemed to be doing better than 'barely surviving'. Zoe struck out for the door, her girls automatically falling into formation around her. "Alright Charles Entertainment Cheese, your time has come," she purred, voice dripping gleeful malice. "If I was on the other end of that I'd be terrified," Mira drawled, "and maybe more than a little turned on." "Cripplingly turned on," Rumi corrected. Mira tilted her head in acknowledgment.
Zoe spun around without breaking stride, and walked backwards towards the doors. "Lets put this fucking rat in the red!" Rumi slowed, asking, "what's going on? Did this place kill your dog or something?" "Its rigged carnival games for kids! Of course I have a vendetta from childhood disappointments," Zoe shot back, "our mission today is the fall of the House of Cheese." Mira frowned and pulled out her phone to double check the reference. "I don't think the analogy fits babe." "Meh," Zoe looks only mildly abashed at being caught out, "its the right level of drama!"
After making their hellos and armed with the requisite bucket of tokens, it was time to hit the floor. Almost immediately, Rumi was transfixed by a rhythm game with a pulse of light traveling in a ring that asked each player to hit their button exactly as the light passed their station. Zoe and Mira wore matching besotted grins as they watched her patterns sync up with the game. Once they learned the game's (slightly off) timing they played for an extended period without a single error. Singing songs to keep time, they never missed a beat. When they did eventually leave, the machine spat out every ticket it had into Zoe's waiting bag. "One down." She winked and waded into the sea of light and noise.
Several games later, Zoe was playing Whack-a-Mole and trash taking, fast and relentless. Just like she was rapping at the edge of the stage, and with a similar crowd of entranced children. That was, until Rumi snuck up and blindfolded her. In that instant she was fighting for her life to keep her response PG (she definitely still moaned a little). And maybe her knees when a little weak. Who could blame her when Rumi was finally being so bold?
Look, she should get a prize for her composure if we're being honest (Don't think about what she wants for a prize, don't think—). She didn't drop to her knees or start drooling (even if she did have to swallow aggressively). And her next moan was small enough that she could mask it with a surprised squeak. She did have to fold both her lips into her mouth and bite down when Rumi whispered "later darling," mouth pressed against the shell of her ear. Rumi placed Zoe's off-hand in the middle of the board and said more loudly, "show me what you can really do."
Zoe's entire nervous system was aflame. She had been less locked in during a great many demon fights to be honest. 2 minutes later, she had an almost perfect score by sound and touch alone. The crowd went wild and distracted her enough to prevent her getting them all kicked out of the venue.
Whenever they tried a racing game Rumi griped continuously about the lack of realism. The third time, as Zoe was telling her how adorable her grumbling was, Mira deadpanned, "Look, babe, we didn't all get stunt driving lessons as a kid."
"I'm just saying they could try a little harder. You can't even get off the track for shortcuts!" Rumi shot back.
"Its for little kids, we can go do an actual car race later if you want," Zoe soothed, "but beware of consequences."
"Consequences?" Rumi looked genuinely (and adorably) confused.
"Consequences," insisted Zoe and Mira together, and with great intensity.
"Ah."
To the great surprise of all involved, they discovered they were uniformly terrible at Skee Ball. "I don't understand how these balls can be so hard to control," Mira ground out through clenched teeth. Rumi's hand squeezed her machine and the particleboard construction began to bend as her patterns swirled an alarming fuchsia. "We just have to figure out the finesse—" Her ball flew far too high, "oh mother f—"
In contrast, they quickly lost interest in claw machines that couldn't challenge them. "More like vending machines anyway," observed Mira as they wandered away. After taking a moment to consider and reject another game, she glanced around to keep track of her girls. A habit born of dancing and fighting together for so many years. She'd be lying to deny there was new complexity since the rainbow honmoon. All the things that did, didn't, and almost happened that night still haunted them all. For the hundredth time she thought we need to convince a therapist that magic is real so we can work on this shit. Her eyes found Rumi and she was moving to her on reflex. As she got closer, the cause of her instinct became clear. Rumi was wearing her fake polite-while-being-tortured smile. A little closer and she heard Zoe, "if we melt the butter, carbonate it, and flash freeze it, do you think —" Ah. Zoe was being a little gremlin again and Rumi was too polite to shake her by the ankles until the crimes stopped. At least in public. Mira interrupted, lightly, and in Korean, "Zoe, darling, light of our lives, you have to save this shit until Rums can fight back. Or do I have to go tell Pumpkin's friends embarrassing stories about you?" Zoe gasped in exaggerated outrage, "you wouldn't!" "Rumi had that 'I'm not allowed to murder reporters' expression on," Mira replied, "you have to play a little fair." Zoe put on an exaggerated pout before being distracted by a wave from the boring adult contingent. Zoe knew she was a little too old to call them grownups any more. By any standard she and her girls were as adult (or more) than the rest. But boring was a choice and Zoe would not be making it. Not ever, if she could help it. In this moment however, the other adults were heralds of the next great phase of the party. "Oh! Heck yeah! They're getting ready for cake!" She took off for the dining area, confident her girls were close behind.
At a queue from Zoe's second best cousin, Mira bellowed for the kids to form up. She couldn't help but preen a little at how quick and orderly the response was. May as well use the scary pop star if you have the option, right? After relatedly minimal wrangling and a song the girls barely sang to avoid distracting from the real star of the moment (or blowing their flimsy cover), it was time for candles. Zoe caught Pumpkin's eye to mime a reminder about breath control. Afterward, she cast a conspiratorial look up and down the table of kids. "Wanna see a magic trick?" She stage whispered. At the chorus of cheers she produced shin kal between her fingers. The cheering ratcheted up significantly. "Huh," Rumi commented to Mira, "I guess all kids love knives. That's not just an us thing." She got a vague affirmative hum in response. Her focus sharpened, Mira was up to something. Time to cover for her. Rumi slid closer to Zoe, ready to be a stagehand (or prop (or distraction)) as needed.
With a flourish worthy of her years as a performer (and a stage magic phase from when she was 10), Zoe made one blindingly fast stroke along each axis of the large sheet cake in front of her. Now, she thought, time to distract the audience before the ones that are really watching try to ask how 4 knives cut a 7 by 10 grid. The skills she had developed for interacting with fans fared better than she had expected against an audience that didn't know she was famous and wasn't here specifically to see her. She launched into a patented Engaging Stage Side Ramble and let her mind wander to the absurdity of the situation.
She could summon magic knives. She didn't even have to touch them to control them. What she supposed to do? Not use them for fun and mischief? Frankly, the honmoon knew what it was getting when it picked her. She would burn the world to ground for her girls and use ancient sacred magic for party tricks. A girl needed versatility. Speaking of party tricks, so to say, she kept up her prattle as she began to juggle a steadily increasing number of knives while parents began serving the cake. Rumi fell into support like they had rehearsed it, which she could argue they had.
Kinda.
Zoe had been working on her juggling by the windows of their living room when Mira and Rumi had approached her in a pincer and started adding things to her rotation. Then they started removing them until she had nothing but a ring box in each hand. She had made a horrible combination of a snorting laugh and a joyous sob that she would never be able to recreate intentionally. Nor would she try. It had given her a brief and awful awareness of the full and exact shape of her sinus cavity. Some things were not meant to be known. It was, unfortunately, recorded forever on Mira's phone. Wait, shit! Have I been saying this out loud? No? Still giving detailed opinions about frosting varieties and decoration styles. Good. There was Rumi at her side just like in the memory, giving her sly looks and sealing her knives. And eating them. Ok, so not exactly like the memory. Fuck Rumi is pretty when clowning around. When I get her alone— Nope! Kids party! Talk about ranking sprinkles by color vs shape. Can't think about Rumi being—
It was at this moment that Mira returned to the fray. Using her height, she crept up behind Zoe and started dropping things over Zoe's head. She had plastic forks, game tokens, a string of prize tickets, an empty cup, a full water bottle, and various other bits and bobs she'd found nearby. But the crown jewel, the piece de resistance, the pride and joy of the least 3 minutes of her life, was a single pepperoni caked with now cold cheese and tomato sauce. She had recruited (rescued?) him from an abandoned slice of pizza. It was his time. Other ammunition depleted, she raised Gerry up for the kids to see. She mimed a misty eyed farewell, snapped a crisp salute, paused for drama, and sent her soggiest soldier off to war.
"AUGH! Mira! Why?" Wheezing laughter was all the answer Zoe would ever get. Although she did appreciate the power move of Rumi flopping across her lap to catch the pepperoni in her mouth.
The previously giggling audience burst into laughter at their antics and now broke into full laughter at Mira's betrayal and Rumi's dorky victory dance. Mira draped herself over Zoe and pressed a kiss to her cheek that lingered more than a little too long to be chaste before asking, "Having a good time babe?" Zoe relaxed against her and hummed contentedly before answering. "Everything I hoped for." A pause. "Well, after we dominate a few more games." As the feeding frenzy died down they collected their own slices of cake. Rumi passed Zoe a corner piece without asking and Mira rolled her eyes affectionately. They found seats amongst the kids' chatter, enjoying their celebrity for something other than being Huntr/x. Zoe caught Pumpkin's eye and raised her cake in a silent toast. She sighed contentedly, took a bite of her cake, and right on queue— "Ugh!" "Bleh!" Her girls gaged in unison. "How do you both forget every time?" She asks through laughter and tears. "What" Mira began, then visibly searched for a PG descriptor, gave up, and eventually finished weakly, "is wrong with this country?"
"You mean aside from everything?" Zoe gestures vaguely.
"Eugh, I can feel it in my blood" Rumi whines. "And its doing things..."
"I really don't have anyway to respond to that in public," Zoe said around a large mouth full of cake. They had no problem passing off their nearly untouched cake to nearby children while Zoe inhaled hers. "OK," she announced, "there are still a couple of games I want to absolutely crush with you. I'm saving the ones that will for sure blow our cover 'til last." She explained as she led them to some larger machines along one wall. "Now this one I absolutely want a turn on, but I want to watch you first." "Noted," Mira drawled with a smirk. "Yes, yes. Later." Zoe redirected, despite her obvious blush. "House of the Dead?" Asked Rumi, watching the machine's attract loop. "Fighting zombies and monsters?" "Think this one is evil science experiments," Zoe offered, "not that it matters. There's not really a story and everything moves too fast to really see." She paused to consider for a moment before adding, "pretend you're American. Shoot the bad stuff and don't think about it." "Any actual tips?" Mira asked while trying to sight down one of the guns adorably awkward fasion. "Nope," Zoe popped the P slightly and flashed a cheeky grin. "Like I said: shoot the bad stuff before it gets you." "Fine," tsked Rumi as she drew the other gun.
A few tokens later, they were roaring through the first level. Their time as hunters had inured them to jump scares, sharpened their reflexes, and honed their threat assessment. However, as Zoe had suspected (and much to her amusement), their accuracy started at dismal and peaked at bad. For the moment they were compensating with vicious shooting speed, rapid target acquisition, and flawless teamwork. With some coaching they'd be a powerful force, but that would have to be another day. Maybe she should take them to shooting range, one of the ones in Vegas where you can shoot a minigun...
Another day, she repeated. They were about to hit the wall and she didn't want to miss a moment. "What the heck?" Rumi growled. "How many times do you have to shoot these things?" "12," grit Mira. "Its actually 5. Three if Two are headshots." Zoe offered conversationally. Affronted, Mira started in, "You mean we're missing half—" "Over half." "—of our shots?" As Rumi whined, "but the explosions are all touching them!" Zoe pated her shoulder in sympathy, "oh Rums, you sweet summer child. The graphics are oversize, only the center counts. I was so mad when I found out as a kid." They let out a chorus of grumbling and whining but gamely fought on until the bitter end. Which came less than three minutes later. Zoe launched into elaborate cheerleading, praising how well they did on their first tries, but they laughed her off. Mira gave her a knowing (and fond) smile, "Take your victory lap Zo."
As Zoe grabbed both guns, Rumi asked "And tell us your secrets?" Zoe settled her stance and shot Rumi a wink. "First secret: this is what the cake was for." She offered a mock salute with the guns and stuck out her tongue. Rumi rolled her eyes and dropped in the tokens. Zoe fell easily into a lively chatter as she played, throwing in trick shots and dance moves before the game got too hard. When she caught up to where the others died, Rumi moved into the edge of her vision and said "Quit holding back. Show me what you can really do." Zoe took hits on both characters to meet Rumi's gaze. She licked her lips. "As you wish."
She returned her attention to the game, the playfulness nearly gone. Her hands snaped up. Her shots were cold, flawless, and instant. She reached and defeated the final boss without taking another hit. The trance only broke when the audience she had accumulated cheered, Mira and Rumi loud among them (they ever did admit which one of them whistled). "So, uh, yeah. That's how its done." She keyed in her new high score, but still felt like her soul was slightly misaligned with her body. Like a sock that's a little twisted because she wasn't paying attention when she put it on. Hmmm. Is her foot the soul in this analogy? It goes in the sock right? Or is the sock the soul because its amorphous. Is 'when I put my foot in your soul' the start of a good lyric? The children chatted excitedly about her display, but Zoe had no idea what they were saying because Rumi and Mira were flanking her now. And leaning in very close. And whispering low and sultry. "Gotta admit, that was better than I expected. All locked in, with lethal intent." Mira purred in one ear. In the other Rumi added "a surprisingly subtle dance of death." Lips ghosted against her skin on both sides and her soul snaped back into place. She stepped forward a pace and killed the mood to avoid doing something delightful. She turned to face them with a smirk, "at least this Huntr/x girl don't miss!" "Hey!" "Rude!" Their showdown was interrupted as Pumpkin threw her arms around Zoe's waist. "Auntie Zo! Auntie Zo! Next year, I wanna do laser tag! And you'll be on my team and we'll totally win by a million points! Right? Right?" She activated the puppy eyes. There were no survivors.
Before it fully registered what they were committing to, all 3 had promised to join her in dimly lit combat a year into the future. As Pumpkin ran off to tell her parents the good news of what she'd just also committed them to, Zoe shook off the haze "Speaking of a dance of death, there's another one over here I really want to see you two try." At the dry looks both Mira and Rumi leveled at her she added, "This time I fully expect Rums at least to beat me, but I won't be surprised if you do too Mir." She let herself gush as they reached the machine in question. "Two player setups like this are actually pretty rare in the wild. I'm so hyped to see what you two do!" Zoe gave a little flourish as they smiled fondly at her. Reassured, she launched in again, "so, this is Beat Saber! You get a sword for each hand and blocks come at you. Gotta match the color of the sword to the block and cut in the direction of the arrow on the block. Don't touch the spiky bombs and don't let the big walls hit your face. Not every song has those though." "So its a rhythm game?" Mira confirmed. "Yup! Aaaannnnd, I think this version has some Huntr/x songs!" Zoe gave a sly wink as Rumi and Mira both perked up. Her voice grew honeyed, "it is also *ahem* scored competitively." Their eyes returned to her from the machine, then snaped to each other. She swapped to placating, "why don't you start simple and learn the controls," then let the heat from their almost-kisses a few minutes ago return. "When you're feeling confident I'm sure you can put on a good show for me, right?" Their gazes were firmly back on her now and the competitive spirit was looking a little too friendly. Zoe paused a moment to consider them: flushed, attentive, ready to be let off the leash. She considered the audience of kids that had realized The Aunties were a consistent source of entertainment (they were professionals after all). She was flattered that so many kids had decided watching her and her girls was more fun than free run of the arcade. She knew where her preferences (and biases) lay, but she had an exquisitely unique perspective. Taking a moment to file away the best bits for later, she discarded everything she had been about to say. "Country Rounds is a pretty good intro, then maybe Crab Rave." The process of helping them gear up was quick, easy, and not nearly as homoerotically charged as she would have liked. The sacrifices she makes for Pumpkin. Although the phrase sci-fi tactical gear burlesque show was now burned onto her bucket list. No verbs, just vibes. She'd figure it out in post.
Mira and Rumi's ramp up was predictably smooth, fast, and littered with playful banter. Until, between songs, Rumi looked over at Mira's avatar and raised her sword in a crisp fencer's salute. Mira saluted in kind and they both wordlessly selected How Its Done on Expert+. There was really no point unless they were on the highest difficulty. In order to avoid spontaneous combustion from excitement, Zoe put on a sportscaster voice and started another commentary. "The increased difficulty is a bold choice folks. They're far from the main OST they've played so far, this song is tricky even on lower settings. Lets see how they do!" The kids were enraptured and her girls were smiling, life was good. "Ooh! Auntie M is struggling already! Looks like she spent too long with this song in the dance studio and muscle memory is fighting against her. It's amazing how well she knows the official choreo. Oh! But Auntie R isn't doing much better! Impressive she knows all the words, but she keeps pausing to sing. Maybe they both need to remember that they aren't preforming, they're fighting." All the subtlety of a dokkaebi, but the change, while immediate, was subtle if you didn't know what to look for. "Neither has completely missed a block yet, but the angles are sloppy and their scores are slipping. You'd think people who know this song so well would be better at this." She cackled at the affronted noises they made and the aggressive shifts in their posture. She soaked in all the little things she could read from them: mock indignation, humor, competition, the thrill of the hunt. It was a wonderful kind of intimacy to be the only one who could read them so well. In a less public moment, she'd capitalize for some romantic fun. This moment is about heckling. Goading. Some carefully age appropriate trash talk. She had formed a solid plan for how it was going to go. Unfortunately no plan survives contact with your your ridiculously hot and hyper competent girlfriends. She told them their weaknesses and they sorted them out. So it goes.
They spend quite some time working through the rest of their songs and form intense and detailed opinions about how each is laid out. In the process of showing each other particular bits and adding silly moves (Rumi does spins, Zoe does a handstand through a bomb section, Mira does the splits under a wall) they completely sweep the scoreboard of every single Huntr/x song on the system. They leave behind a wall of increasingly perfect scores attributed only to R, M, and Z. That should be a fun find for any fan that happens across this machine. Thinking about scores they've left elsewhere in the arcade, Mira slipped into a vision of corkboards and red string. She shook her head to clear it. "The party's ending soon, we should hit the prize counter." To her mild surprise, it was Rumi that spoke up, "one thing first, I know we're all been saving it." Oh yeah...
"AUNTIE ZO!" The address filled the space with the particular brand of slightly panicked warning and command that parents become so facile with in the toddler years. To be fair, it really was warranted in this case. Things had gotten out of hand. Zoe knew they made a wild tableau: Mira was taking full advantage of her height in a wide and stable stance with hands tight and high by her shoulder. Exactly how Zoe remembered her little league coaches positioning her. Mira's hands had a firm grip on Zoe's ankles, holding her up at a steep angle. Zoe's own body was rigid behind Mira. Her shoulder held most of her weight as it rested on the carpet along with her temple. Her hands were tight in front of her like a boxer.
Rumi was not contributing in the slightest, doubled over with wheezing laughter nearby.
To understand this situation, Zoe thought from her new position (flat on her back on the filthy carpet where Mira had unceremoniously dumped her (no commitment to the bit)), you had to go back to the magical faraway land of 12 minutes ago. Their orbits (more electron than gravitational) had led them randomly through almost the entire space. Now, they collapsed in on the repelling nucleus at the metaphorical center of the atom. That which none of them had dared approach until they were ready to flee the scene: a punching bag strength tester. It was one of the few machines that had really caught all their attentions equally. Zoe got to it first the way she got to most things first: simple lack of hesitation. She walked up, dropped her token, wound up, and delivered a good punch. She ranked solidly 3rd on the score board and the heckling began immediately. "Wow Zo, two randos are stronger than you" Mira drawls, while Rumi offers, "I know you're short, but that should give you more practice punching up!"
"That's what you get using lightweight weapons."
"It can't always be leg day."
"Oh yeah?" Zoe finally interrupted as she finished entering her name and dropped another token. She took two steps back to pull level with the bag and delivered a vicious spinning kick. This time she took first by a large margin. She raised her chin in challenge, grinning as her girls blinked most of the heat from their expressions. Mira stepped up next, body alive with focus and purpose. She considered and adjusted her stance, rolled her shoulders, tugged her wrist, and finally delivered a punch that beat Zoe's kick by a hair. Her parting smirk ensured they wouldn't be leaving this machine for while. Rumi's first turn resembled Zoe's in its lack of pretense, except it took first, Mira narrowed her eyes, but before she could escalate, Zoe (briefly) thought of the children and mused aloud, "you know, my first score is bumming me out." Rumi, ever the team player, latched on immediately, "Aww, we can totally push it off the board." Mira smacked a fist in to her palm, "Lets own that scoreboard and show these randos how its done!" With a cheer (or perhaps a cheerful roar), they set about finding weirder and sillier ways to get on the board. At the sound of harsh impacts, the teen working the counter looked up and wisely decided this was above his pay grade. Eventually, with a slingshot off Mira's knee, Zoe managed to reclaim first place. Mira took it next with some kind of murder cartwheel that Zoe was going to have to prefect at some point. Then Rumi approached the bag and all three were abruptly laser focused. For the first time, she assumed a proper stance. She pulled back her fist, flashed a grin with a few too many (and too pointed) teeth, and lit up like a signal flare. Her punch rocked the whole machine and her score was literally off the chart. While Rumi affixed her name to her unbeatable score, Zoe remarked dryly, "incredibly hot, 10/10, but kinda cheating babe." Rumi ran her tongue over her fangs as she walked back to them. "How else am I supposed to inspire you to greatness?" She purred. "What?" Mira sputtered, "without a weapon for leverage we'll never hit that hard. I am not summoning a weapon or hitting it with a chair in the middle of Pumpkin's party! Besides—" "Use me." Said Zoe quietly. "Later." Replied Mira on autopilot. "No," insisted Zoe, "well, yes, but, no— I mean as a weapon." Rumi thoroughly failed to suppress a snicker. Without taking her eyes off Mira, Zoe added, "hush. This is all about to be your fault."
To Mira she said, "swing me like a bat."
As they approached the prize counter, Rumi's hearing picked up the attendant muttering "I'm in so fucking much trouble," so she broke off from Zoe and Mira's steadily escalating debate over prizes. She pulled out one of their stealth cards, blank except for a phone number, and set it on the counter in front of the poor kid. "If they give you a hard time, call this number and ask for Bobby." "Tell him auntie Zo sent you," Zoe added, popping up at Rumi's elbow. "Bobby will take care of it," Mira confirmed as she drifted along in Zoe's wake. "Who are you people?" Demanded the kid shakily. "Don't worry about it," Mira dismissed mildly, "but I see security footage of us online I will be under your bed." The kid's eyes widened in terror. Rumi rolled her eyes fondly and let out a small exasperated sigh. "Don't panic the kid. And kid, you'll be fine. Someone will bring by a mountain on NDAs soon. Probably should have done that up front, but we didn't think today was going to get this— dramatic." A faint "have you met us?" From Zoe went unremarked. Rumi tapped the counter, "use the card if you need it," and turned to her girls, "so— what are we getting?"
"Well, I want the soda stream," answered Zoe easily. "I don't want to use up all our tickets tho," she added as if it wasn't one of the most expensive things on offer. "We could just get you one," Rumi offered. "And we can get as many tickets as we want from a couple of these games," Mira added. Zoe smiled at them and declined, "sweet to offer, but using the tickets makes it special, you know? Now you guys pick something and we'll see what's left!"
With a speed that belied her affectation of spontaneity, Mira selected a pink stuffed rabbit whose ears flopped just like her pigtails. She promptly presented it to Zoe. "For your horde." Zoe bumped against her side, "awww, you big softie." Mira bent down to murmur, "only for you my love." Flushed faintly pink, Zoe shot back, "I'll make you eat those words." "Don't threaten her with a good time," teased Rumi, returning with her own prizes. She dutifully presented them for inspection: an assortment of small knickknacks to remind her of the day and of her girls. A stripy purple finger puppet drew the most attention. "She has your smile," observes Zoe, voice dripping saccharine innocence.
"Rude!"
In the car, on their way to the hotel to rest for the tour concert the next day, Mira asked, "so, laser tag next year?"
"Oh hell yeah!"