They scheduled all her sessions for early in the morning on purpose. Somewhere in her file it said the young woman was not a morning person; so they punished her for that flaw in personality. So now she stood in one of those form fitting bodysuits that seemed to be in style for special ops groups. The kind they were forced to practice in to get used to the feel. Monique's though happened to be the unique blue green color associated with tropical oceans. It matched the color of her hair and nails perfectly. It was one concession to appease her occasionally explosive temper. Her scowling expression was reflected, along with the outfit, was reflected in the full length mirror in their shared bedroom. "If I turned Skygate upside down do you think they would let me sleep in?"

Despite the fact that he stayed up every night with his young wife, DJ needed little sleep and was up when she got out of bed. Though, it had taken a little longer for her to get up since he'd demanded a cuddle session. Now, he came back into the bedroom, a steaming cup of coffee in hand for her. He looked her up and down, marveling yet again that a young, pretty thing like Monique had fallen for an old warhorse like him. "I doubt it. They'd prolly just make some kinda note in your file and then get on with the experiments." He put his arms around her, kissing the side of her neck and pressing the coffee into her hand.

"Hmph. Probably so. I'll just have to take it out on you." Despite her years at the institute; Monique's southern twang was still solidly part of her voice. She took the kiss with all the good graces of someone who knew they deserved it and then grabbed the coffee in both hands. The ascendant inspected her appearance once more; speaking more to herself than her husband. "Maybe I should get some contacts to match." Certainly their were procedures to change eye color, but that was a little too permanent for her taste.

He steps away then, letting her examine herself to her heart's content. Still, they are newlyweds and he enjoys a final caress as he moves back. "Maybe you oughta leave them pretty eyes of yours alone, Baby Girl. It'd be a damn shame to hide 'em."

"Hmph." It was all DJ got at first before she decided to add more. "You don't understanda thing about fashion." Monique did of course. Well enough that her little business was chugging along quite nicely. In fact she had even bought a better home for her mother. Still he managed to earn himself a bright smile. Monique looked him up and down while sipping coffee. "You're coming with me aren't you?"

"No, but I do know what I like," he answers. "And I like bein' able to look into your eyes...your real eyes whenever I want." He looks her up and down obviously. "If they're makin' you wear that, I am. I can't have you wanderin' 'round lookin' all fine like you do without a chaperone. I don't want nobody thinkin' you ain't taken."

Monique was pretending to ignore his comments, but the smile on her face only got bigger. "Did you really have to wear stuff like this on missions? I guess it was to force you all to stay in good shape. I should count myself lucky. You are in very good shape after all." She gave DJ a look over bold as brass before brushing past him and out into the apartment proper.

"Yeah. I suspect it was all a ploy for publicity. I mean, Dom ain't got every woman fallin' at his feet because he wore baggy clothes, you know." He watches his sassy little bride walk out into the other room, never getting quite tired of it before dragging himself to his feet. Today he's dressed in his new uniform: a t-shirt, blue jeans and battered old boots. "Whatcha want for breakfast?" he asks. "Can't let you go face the lab coats without plenty of energy."

"I think it was more the challenge of trying to get him to switch teams. I think females tend to be masochistic that way." Monique dropped the now empty cup of coffee onto one counter in the kitchen. Of course she was going to ask for the same thing as other morning. "Make me waffles." Since discovering the alternative to pancakes; well the girl had seemed to have developed an addiction. She wrapped her arms around DJ once he stepped into the room; hands slipping into the back pockets of his jeans. "Pretty please."

She doesn't have any pockets for him to slip his hands into. So, he just contents himself with rubbing every part of the backside of her body he can reach slowly. "Waffles!" he exclaims with mock indignation. "It's always waffles with you!" He gives a melodramatic sigh. "I s'pose I COULD be convinced to make waffles with the right convincin'."

"Please?" She kissed his throat. "Pretty please?" Next it was chin? "Pretty please with sugar on top?" Now DJ was finally graced with a kiss on the lips. Of course Monique suffered his attention with all the dignity a new wife could muster. She managed to mold herself closer against his body.

He bends to meet her lips, running his hands up to lightly clutch at her shoulder blades and hold her close. Of course, there's something very masochistic about this. They're going to have to leave soon, so hugging and kissing is about as far as they're going to be able to get, though it will just leave him wanting more. Still, he kisses her passionately, squeezing her firm young body against him before releasing her. "Waffles it is!" he declares before breaking away and heading for the kitchen.

It left her a little breathless; just the same was every other time they kissed just so. Her finger brushed both lips before Monique trailed after her husband. "It's good that you can see things my way." She wanted to sit on the counter, but that's awfully far when you're short. Luckily for Monique; lifting herself up by other means is quite easy. Quickly enough she finds herself perched beside the coffeemaker. "And don't forget the syrup."

"Why don't you save us some trouble and just drink it straight from the bottle?" he teases, glancing over his shoulder at her with a grin. It's not long before he has the ingredients combined in a bowl and is whipping up the batter for the waffles. And the iron's hot when he gets it mixed together so her first batch is cooking within a couple minutes. He leans against the counter next to her while they cook and slips an arm around her tiny waist.

Monique had managed to get some fine control of her abilities. This is why she is able to hold an egg menacingly over his hear, but she wills it back into the carton. She would only go through with such a thing if DJ made her genuinely angry. Instead he just gets a few nips at his neck. "I wish everyone knew how mean you are to me. You'd be in so much trouble."

He snorts. "If everybody 'round here knew how mean I was to you, they'd tell me to be meaner. You don't get near 'nough spankin's for bein' as big a brat as you are," he says, though he's practically purring at her mouth on his neck. The waffles almost burn before his keen nose distracts him and he quickly springs the lid open and pulls them out onto a plate for her.

Monique could just as easily got back to the floor, but that was no fun. Instead she held a held her head up imperiously. "Well aren't you going to help me down? Or am I going to have to wait for your food to be done?" Monique couldn't quite keep up the act; the corners of her mouth twitching.

"See? 100% grade A brat," he says. But he does come help her down, or at least he picks her up. He hands her the plate before scooping her up into his arms and carrying her to the dining room. She's set in a chair before he goes to the kitchen. "Catch!" he calls, tossing the syrup into a high, lazy arc towards her.

"Yes, but I'm your grade A brat." Monique looked pleased as a feline being carried and set into the chair. So maybe she was in the mood for a little showing off. The girl picked up the paper and started to read the style section. The bottle suddenly slowed before stopping in midair. It spun in a lazy circle before lowering down beside her plate. It was only then that Monique bothered to pick it up; opening the bottle and dousing her waffles in the syrup.

That was exactly what DJ expected to happen. He was proud of the girl for her control and liked to surprise her occasionally to make sure that she always had the skill. "Amen to that, Baby Girl. I wouldn't trade you in for nothin'." He leans against the doorway between kitchen and dining room, watching her while his waffles cook.

"I hope you say your prayers every night. Thank the good lord above that you got so lucky." Monique honestly wasn't so completely vain. In fact she considered herself lucky to be found by both DJ and the Skygate institute. She just adored the banter they shared each and every day. The waffles were cut up into dainty bites, before the young woman began to eat.

He puts his plate down at the spot next to her and lowers his mouth next to her ear. "You know I do, Baby Girl. You know I shout 'Oh God, Oh God,' every night," he says throatily. His own pile of waffles is twice as big as hers. But then, he'll probably need a snack in a couple hours anyways.

It's still the same after all this time. He can say something that makes her blush so badly. It felt like her whole face was completely on fire. Monique made as scandalized gasp/giggle and swatted at his muscular arm. "You are six kinds of no good. I'm gonna start washin your mouth out with soap."

"Kinky!" he comments with a wolfish grin. He sits down and digs into his breakfast with all the lusty abandon that he always eats with. Her waffles may be in dainty bites, but he tears his up, shoving great lumps of them into his mouth and chewing quickly and briefly before swallowing and getting more.

"Is there anything on the good lord's green earth you don't find kinky?" Monique took longer to eat her food; despite the fact he had a lot more. She took her kindergarten teacher's words to heart. Take small bites and chew very carefully. Soon enough though she was ready to go. "Come on. We need to get going. Let me find your leash. You know the laws around here."

"Babies, kittens and split pea soup," he says, seemingly giving the question a great deal of thought. "Don't forget the pooper scooper, too," he says, taking their plates to the kitchen and leaving them in the sink before rejoining her in the living room. He still opens the door for her and lets her out into the hallway first.

"Well at least you can be a gentleman sometimes." The heavy boots she wore had a thicker sole than usual, but then Monique had been always sensitive about her height. So she had to only lean up a little bit to kiss his cheek. Then they were out and walking to the elevator that would send them down to the subbasement levels.

"When I have to be," he responds. He leans against one corner of the elevator as it starts down. They have it all to themselves for the first few floors. None of the residents are going down this early and any employees are going up. It's not until they get to the ground floor that a few people fill up the rest of the cab before the plunge to the underground facility.

Monique was more than willing to take advantage of them being alone. The novelty of being able to be so close hadn't worn off yet. So she has her arms about his neck and is kissing with some gusto when the others step in. At least their coworkers got a passing glance before the ascendant went back to more interesting work.

Despite the fact that he's old enough to know better, DJ acts just like a kid with Monique. He's no more adverse to public make out sessions than she is and even when other people get on the elevator he keeps an arm around her and keeps her close. They're the only ones to get off on their floor and he keeps his arm around her as they walk down the hall towards the lab.

They got some stares and some whispers, but that only made the girl giggle. Still Monique put on a more professional demeanor once they walked the hall proper. Once the young ascendant reached the proper door and stepped inside; they both were greeted by a scientist in a white coat. "Excellent. Right on time Ms. Anderson. Will you be joining us Mr. Anderson?" Scientists always loved more data.

"Heh. Ms. Anderson. Sounds good, don't it?" he says, giving Monique a nudge. "I s'pose I ain't got nothin' better to do at the moment. You want me to put on one of these jobs?" he says, pinching some of the fabric on Monique's arm and giving a little pull.

"Well it doesn't sound too bad." The fabric was meant to be tight and so it didn't give much. Monique smiled again; while pulling back her blue- green hair with a ponytail holder. The man looked up from his clipboard once more. Monique didn't recognize him. He must be new. "It would be preferable, but the choice is up to you. There is a room behind me where you could change." The scientists liked things to be a certain way, but they couldn't boss DJ around too much.

"You know you like it," he says giving the skin under the fabric a little pinch, too. He winks and grins at her as he moves past the doctor. "They just can't help it, see? They gotta see us in these ridiculous get ups. It makes 'em feel better." He goes into the room and ducks his head out. "Ya'll go ahead and get started, I'll be out in a bit."

It might be a long while. Those get ups were hard to get into in the first place. It would probably be easier to stretch out while someone sewed the fabric on. Monique gave him a swat as he left; then answered a few questions for scientists. Short, quick steps took her out into the middle of a large room. It looked completely empty at first; with only a window high up where people looked down to gather information. There were two dots; one set on either of Monique's temples. The tiny, silver chips would monitor activity as the tests went on. Holes opened in the walls with quiet whoosh sounds. Equally silver balls flew out toward the girl. She batted a few aside experimentally without touching them.

Fortunately, DJ had a lot of practice. Even before joining 01 he had to wear spandex. Amongst other things, it was the most aerodynamic fabric in existence. For a man who was an Olympic athlete, he had to wear it plenty. They looked for every advantage they could get after all. He's back out in the other room within a few minutes and crosses his arms over his chest to watch her work.

Another scientist, though this one female, came up behind DJ. She was going to place the same discs on his temples. This group was supposed to be studying if ascendancy was, at its' core, purely dependent on the brain. The orbs were flying faster and faster at Monique. She deflected them away; though some came extremely close. There were a lot. The young woman still had an occasional fit of jealousy. One ball thunked into the back of the scientist's head. Not enough to really hurt of course. "Oh. Sorry 'bout that there honey." The woman tumbled aside; rubbing at the back of her head.

DJ's head snapped over to Monique as the ball struck the woman. He glared, pointed a finger at her and mouthed the word "Behave." "Sorry, my wife ain't got full control of her abilities just yet," he says to the woman. "Are you alright?" He keeps an eye out for any more misguided balls, both coming for his own head and for the woman's.

Monique's eyes widened in the picture of absolute, astonished innocence. She circled one finger over her head in a halo; then pressed both hands together in an attitude of prayer. The scientist seemed startled for a moment, but took it all in stride. She had heard about what the young ascendant had done before when she lost control of her abilities. This one wasn't so bad. "I am fine, Mr. Anderson. Any time you would want to join your wife would be fine. We can monitor you both now."

"Thanks," he says. "Maybe you oughta clear on out now. We both got a problem with collateral damage and bein' 'round us ain't too safe." He smiles at the woman apologetically before striding towards his wife. He points at her again and then puts his forefingers up at his forehead like horns, grimaces and sticks out his tongue. Stepping into the line of fire, his pupils dilate as they take in the incoming projectiles and he slaps one away before twisting to dodge another.

"You never let me have any fun at all." Monique didn't speak out loud, but her southern belle voice twanged its' way into her husband's mind. Minor telepathy seemed to be a side effect of her abilities. She was by no means a strong one, but the two of them were emotionally very close. So it was quite easy for the ascendant to talk to him this way. "I didn't hurt her....much....." The speed of the projectiles picked up as DJ joined the fray. The scientists felt the previous speed would be too easy for a pair.

"Was it a her? I didn't notice. Any time you're in a room an' wearin' spandex it's like there suddenly ain't no other women in the world." Unfortunately for DJ, he's old fashioned. Despite the fact that Monique is actually far more powerful than he is, he feels a deep, almost instinctual need to protect her. So, he actually steps in front of his diminutive wife even as the spheres speed up. Only his superhuman speed allows him to deflect most of the balls, but since dodging would defeat his purpose, one slams into his ribs and he grimaces with the pain.

"I still think your ascendancy has something to do with sweet talkin'. I don' care what the doctor's say." Monique had to fight down the need to jerk him out of the way of the orbs, but then that would wound his pride. It would also likely make him lose his balance. It seemed to her to be an important part of his ascendancy. So she would have to be content to scold him. "Be careful or you'll make me a training room widow." She knocked in the hip with one of the balls. Temperamental as Monique tends to be; she mentally lifts it off the ground and hurled it at the chute it had just excited. Jamming up the thing for a moment.

"Naw, that's just good home trainin'." The bruise that's formed on his chest is already starting to fade as his regenerative abilities kick in. But, it doesn't take him long to realize that he can't keep up the pace for too long. So, he stays in front of Monique, but to one side. He's still able to deflect many of the spheres that come at her but can also dodge and weave around the ones that are aimed at him.

"You know. You're extra sexy when you go all alpha male, Shadow Hunter on me." Visibly she is only smiling, but her rich laugh echoes between the two of them. The balls in the air stop in their pursuit of the pair; trembling as if they fight against an invisible force. It was then that Monique took the time to slip around and kiss DJ. Playing a litany of images showing all the things such ardor inspired her to do. Wth perhaps the promise of trying a few later. The readings the scientists got were perhaps not exactly what they were looking for at the time.

"You are pure D devil, girl. You can't go showin' me stuff like that while I'm wearing this here body condom. 'Less you want everybody to see my business." Still, she'll get the image of being tossed over his shoulder caveman style then tossed onto the bed before continuing with a number of ideas of his own. His arm goes around her and he pulls her close, perhaps to hide his embarrassment. Looking up at the window he grins. "Is that it?" he asks. "You guys are startin' to go easy on us. You must be runnin' outta ideas. Don't you want us to name prime numbers while sorting playing cards and dodging bullets or somethin'?"

"What can I say, love? You bring out the trouble in me. I was a very good girl before we met." Monique took the trembling projectiles and hurled them against the window. It caused some of the scientists to jump, but they were safe. A coolly polite voice came through the intercom system. "Very well. We will move onto phase two of the testing." Beneath them the floor begin to shift and shake; certain portions of it lifting off entirely. Monique nipped at her husband's lower lip. "Happy now?"

"I tend to have that effect on folks. Just imagine what a pack of BA's our kids are gonna be." His balance is impeccable and he is able to keep them both steady and upright even as the floor rocks under them. But when parts of it lift up he takes a step away, keeping just his fingertips on her to help steady her. After all, there would no doubt be more things flying at them and it didn't make much sense to give them a single, large target when they could be two smaller ones. "Happy? No. I won't be happy 'til..." he projects the image of one of her suggestions back to her.

He had impeccable taste for a southern boy. That particular one happened to be her favorite. Monique was silent for a time; trying to focus on steadying the large tile beneath them both. "Only if you get a good grade on your test today. Your Baby Girl doesn't pay for C's." She began to laugh, but what appeared to be a blunted spear shot of the ground beneath them. Rocking the little platform they were both on.

"Is there extra credit? 'Cause this other one looks mighty fun, too." He projects another image to her even as he grabs her to steady her. "Not sure 'xactly what the point of this one is yet," he says to her out loud, "but why don't we make it a little more hard for 'em?" He leaps off the platform, touching down on another one for only a moment before springing to a third, putting plenty of room between the two Ascendants. Crouching on the former bit of floor, he keeps his center of gravity low and his body tensed for another leap.

Monique's ascendancy was one of those that became stronger with stress. The scientists wanted to understand exactly why. Plus a "stronger signal" would help trace back to what parts of the brain dealt with these abilities. Monique seemed not to jump, but float back to another platform. The one she was on went wildly flying toward the ceiling after being hit by one of the 'spears". "They just like causin' trouble so they can write about it."

"Sounds 'bout right to me. The kinda folks who kick over ant beds just to watch the action." One of the spears slams into the bottom of the platform that DJ's on, setting it spinning. Rather than fighting it or trying to remain in place, he uses the momentum to throw him in a high arc. He flips, almost lazily at the apogee of the arc and comes to land lightly on another platform. Unlike his blushing bride, the older ascendant seldom seems stressed at all. Though his superhuman heart is beating rapidly and strongly, his blood stream is flooded with adrenaline and his breathing is accelerated, the man feels calm, almost relaxed at the moment.

The scientists were pleased enough with their readings so far. They found the differing actions between the two fascinating. They all sat at their little stations and studiously took notes. "Now you're just showin off. If you keep that up then you won't make it out of the room dressed. Or actually out of the room. They'll just have to avert their eyes." Monique grabbed at another one of the platforms with her mind; forcing it between her an a series of incoming projectiles. They were now allowed to fly from any direction.

"Exhibitionism? I really have corrupted you, ain't I, Baby Girl?" He ducks under one of the spears, rolling over before standing up and catching another. He uses it to deflect a third and throws it at a fourth before leaping to another platform to force whoever, or whatever is aiming the things to track him.

The voice of one of the scientist spoke of initiating stage three. "Would you prefer that I'd be more of a lady? Missionary, in the dark, only on your birth..." The saucy reply was interrupted by a very audible scream. The platform Monique had been manipulation was flung off wildly; along with several others. There was a tone in the air, or transmitted in the chips, that just tore at her mind. So the girl reacted violently.

DJ winced as his excessively keen ears picked up the tone. It was like taking an ice pick to the brain. But, he had suffered sonic attacks before and knew how to put them to the side and continue to function. A spike of fear drove itself through his stomach as he saw her reaction, though. "Monique!" he shouted. It took several careful leaps to get to her platform and he put his arms around her to steady her. "Calm down, Baby Girl. Concentrate on me," he says.

Monique sagged in his strong arms as if the weight of standing had become too much. Still her hands clutched too tightly at both temples. it was if the tone had hit some sensitive place between her senses and her mind. Monique screamed again and a path cleared before them; debris flying so far it scarred the walls. A larger piece driving through the tough glass of the observation booth; burying itself into some piece of machinery. Sparks started to fly.

"Time to get you out of here," he says, flinching at the carnage she inflicts. He can't see if anyone in the booth has been hurt, but he goes that direction. Hefting her tiny body in his thick arms, he leaps, jumps and tumbles his way across the room until he can spring up through the broken window. He moves as though she's nothing but a rag doll, though a very fragile one and her weight doesn't impede him in the least.

The woman she hit with the ball before is now sprawled out on the floor. If she could of; Monique would of told them it hadn't been on purpose. The men and women running this experiment scurried about like ants. This was an emergency situations and the calm demeanors were gone. "Turn it off Harrison. Do it now before she destroys the place." The man in question hunched the remains of one of the consoles. "Don't you think I'm trying? I'm working with what I have left here." Pieces of the floor that weren't supposed to be ripped up hurled themselves at the walls now.

DJ doesn't even stop to help. He takes one look around and spots the exit. "Keep workin'!" he barks at the man named Harrison. Charging the closed door, he doesn't bother with niceties like turning the knob. Instead, he picks up as much speed as possible and throws his shoulder against it. The door groans in protest but holds. At least until he bunches himself and slams against it again. It bounces off the wall and almost hits him on the rebound as he dodges past and races as quickly as he can down the hall to try to get her away from the sound.

There is going to be a lot of tax dollars or private funds at work. Destruction follows their path. Nearly anything that can tear off a wall does; following the two of them in some bizarre parade. The crystals in Monique's glow so fiercely she gives off a small circle of light. The young woman doesn't notice. She just twists and tries not to scream again. "It hurts. It hurts inside." Since she can't really control her mental voice at this time. it comes out incredibly loud.

"I know. I know, I'm tryin' to get you away from it, Baby Girl," he says, continuing to run away. He dives into a stairwell and starts ascending. "Try to fight it for me. Try to stay calm for me." His face is a mask of determination and he's pushing himself to the edge to get her away from the infernal tone.

The staircase if completely empty at the time. Other than the few objects that got through the door and followed the pair. It was a big building and most people preferred the elevator. A flight or two and the girl began to calm down. Distance made the tenseness in her muscles ease.

Though he was relieved when he felt her begin to relax, there was no way DJ was going to stop, or even slow down. He could run for miles at a time and occasionally took the stairs all the way from the top of the Skygate Institute's tower to the lowest basement and back again as part of his exercise routine. "That's better, ain't it? Just a little more," he says softly to her, his relief obvious as he continues to charge up the stairs, his footsteps echoing in the empty place.

"I guess I'll have to take a nap before I tear your clothes off." She was physically speaking, though the voice was weak, and making a joke. It meant that she was at least the tone didn't have her completely enthralled now. Still from time her body would jerk violently.

He chuckles, the sound too loud as relief floods him. He slows just enough to hug her tightly to him as he continues to gain distance from the test room and noise. "I'll tear both our clothes off and we can take a nekkid nap," he offers. He frowns, looking at the floor numbers for the first time since he made a break for it. Hopefully, the medical section will be far enough away from the practice room that he can take her there without the danger of levitating, out of control scalpels and needles.

"It was like someone was taking razors to my brain. Like they wanted to tear me up from the inside. Why would they do that?" Monique looked genuinely hurt and afraid. She clung to DJ because it was the easiest thing to do. The girl hated hospitals, but she didn't protest being carried to the medical section at all. Though she might protest if they tried to draw blood.

It was with some relief that he found that they were far enough away that she wouldn't be hurt by going there. It takes him only a few moments to explain what's happened and he reluctantly lays her on a bed, though he refuses to move or let go of her hand as the doctors start to run diagnostics on her. "They prolly didn't even know," he replies softly. "They tested a buncha frequencies when I first joined up, too. Kept goin' 'til they found one that felt like it was jellyfyin' my brain, too. At least now, we know the frequency and we can avoid it."

"You better not take out any needles. I'll throw you out a window." Monique made sure to threatened every doctor and nurse in turn. So she was definitely getting back to her old self. If it had been up to her then DJ would be in the bed too. That way her head could rest on his chest. It always made her feel better. The medical crew saw they weren't getting too far with removing the man. So worked around him the best they could. Her rate was wild, but it was gradually slowing. "I couldn't control it. It was like being sixteen all over again."

"That was a fine Monique style mess you made back there," he teases with a grin. "Kinda makes me miss the good ol' days when the furniture got rearranged every time you got irritated." They check her pulse, her blood pressure, shine a light in her eyes and even do a quick and dirty MRI.

"I'll be sure to throw the couch at you when we go home. That ways you won' be so nostalgic." The outfit she wore might be good for battles, but not much for anything else. Being worn down, stressed out and irritated; she unzipped the thing down to her navel. It was so tight that she wasn't falling out of the clothes, but she was showing some skin. Monique kicked impatiently at the boots. "Can you take these off? They weigh a ton and I'm too hot. It's hot in here right?"

They took her temperature, too. They would have taken a sample of her blood, but given her threat and the fact that they pretty much all knew her temper, they decided against it. "Everything looks normal so far," the doctor says, his eyes tracing down her exposed skin until he abruptly remembers that her husband is in the room and is capable of bench pressing compact cars. "Ahem. If you can wait just a few more minutes, we can release you and you can relax in your own bed."

Monique could still scowl and pout with the best of them. She did so at this time, but at least now she obeyed the rules. The girl had been terrible about that just a few years ago. So the kicks stopped and she endured the boots for now. "Do we still have lemonade at home? You can bring me some in bed."

"A little bit," DJ responds. "And I can make you a nice jug of sweet tea, too." The doctor frowns. "Maybe you should stay away from caffeine for a bit, Mrs. Anderson. It has some strange neurological effects. Otherwise, everything looks fine. You're free to go. We'll talk to the boys downstairs and see if we can figure out what happened. I'd like you to come back tomorrow for a follow up and call us if you get any other symptoms."

"If I have any other symptoms you'll know without me calling you." Monique was up on her feet immediately and only wobbled for a moment. Luckily DJ was nearby to lean against. Plus it felt good to lean against him. It was a win-win situation. "Fine. No tea. Only lemonade. Should I take two aspirins and call you in the morning?"

DJ takes the opportunity presented to him and when he puts his hand against her, he makes sure that part of his palm is against her exposed skin. He, at least, takes comfort in the flesh to flesh contact. "You can take any kind of over the counter pain relievers you like if the discomfort continues," the doctor responds, though he clearly got her joke. "And yes, call in the morning to set up an appointment for tomorrow."

Monique shifted herself while the doctor gave his usual speech. Her back sliding up against DJ's chest. Sure they might see where his hand is resting, but the woman didn't seem to notice or care. "I'll call and I'll come to the appointment. Just no needles okay?" She looks up to DJ. "Ready to go?"

"I won't make any promises, but I'll do my best," the doctor replies. DJ nods. "You know it." He keeps his arm around her waist and his hand on her hip as he walks her out of the medical station and into the hall outside. His grip on her is tight and he's at least half supporting her as they go to the elevator.

"Nothin' I hate more than bein' the damsel in distress. My mam raised me better." Still Monique didn't pull out of his arms. She wasn't completely sure of her footing right now. It would be even more embarrassing to fall on her but in front of everyone. Once inside the elevator she leaned on him more heavily. "Sorry about the trouble."

"Well, least this way, I get to be your knight in skin tight armor," he answers with a smile. She is only allowed to lean against him for a few seconds in the elevator before he bodily lifts her small form and pins her in a corner. He's enough bigger than her,that someone behind him wouldn't even be able to see her. He hugs her fiercely. "You can't go 'round scarin' me like that Baby Girl," he says quietly to her.

"You think I could get a picture of you in that skin tight armor? It will keep me warm on those lonely nights when you're off for work."

Monique teased to let him know that she was indeed doing all right. The sound was far enough away that she couldn't hear it. Granted her whole body was tired, but some rest would take care of that one. Both arms wrapped around DJ's arms; betraying the fact there was indeed another person on the elevator.

"I promise only to scare you when you've earned it by misbehaving. That will be more of the "putting the fear of god into you" variety."

The elevator pinged as the door opened, but had not quite reached their floor. Monique caught a brief look of a surprised then embarrassed face. The person murmured an apology and then skittered back out again. Monique managed to sigh and then giggled.

"Well there goes any reputation I had left. What a strange day it has been."

"You can just look it up on the internet," he responds to her teasing in kind. "There's gotta be a ton of pictures of me from back in the day. That way, you can even see me when I was young and hot."

He did no more than glance over his shoulder as the surprised office worker retreated from their little interlude. His usual smile was not present, though and the look he gave the man was certainly intended to deter him from boarding the elevator.

"I got more than enough fear of God for one day," he assures her. "You don't gotta do nothin' else to scare me for a week. You won't believe how good I'll be."

He is smiling when he looks into her eyes again. "What reputation? You're a married woman now. There ain't nothin' wrong with huggin' up to your husband in an elevator. Now, if you was in here with that little ninja boy that's got a crush on you, you might get lips to flappin'. But can't nobody say nothin' 'bout us."

When the elevator finally stops on their floor, she isn't even given the chance to test out her tired legs. He scoops her up in his arms and carries her down the hall. "I don't think you'd like caveman style so you'll have to settle for the Rhett Butler approach," he says.

Fortunately, they didn't lock their door since both of them left their clothes and keys downstairs. DJ manages to open the door without setting her down, or even jostling her much. He goes straight for the bedroom. "I'll help you get out of this thing and then get you that lemonade," he says, starting to pull at the tight spandex of her body suit.

"What," Monique looked absolutely aghast at the revelation. "You're not young and hot now? I married you specifically to be young and hot and go with all oh my outfits? I'm a fashion designer you know? I need all of the latest, hottest accessories."

Monique might apologize to the man later. Well if she remembered. Besides he worked at Skygate and certainly knew how the pair of them could be. A force of nature was just at best endured.

"He doesn't have a crush on me. You say the craziest thing. I'm a married woman and it's plenty fine by me to stay that way. He's just part of my personal UN."

Monique was good at collecting friends from around the world. The young woman paid lip service to complaining. She could very well walk on her own, but of course didn't mean it. It was obvious by the way Monique leaned her head against her husband's chest and kept both arms around his neck. Once in bed though it was time to swat at his hands.

"Let me get these boots off first. I don't wanna sleep with them on and this silly suit around my ankles. Will you get my PDA too? I need to make sure those shipments made it to San Francisco."

The budding fashion designer sold her things to several boutique's. She still insisted on making most things by hand and so she couldn't send them everywhere. Monique simply didn't have the time. At the moment trying to tug off one of the knee high boots was her first priority.

"Sorry, Sugar, but I suckered you. It was all smoke and mirrors. I'm practically old enough to be your daddy, remember? And now you're stuck with me. You can't trade me in for a newer model without signin' over half your fashion empire. Mwahahahaha!" he ends with his best evil maniacal laugh.

"Right...'cause soon's a woman gets married all the guys who was pantin' after her suddenly stop bein' interested in her," he scoffs. "If that boy had a crush on you before, which he did, he's got a crush on you now, which he does. He's just respectful and/or shy enough that he ain't gonna do nothin' 'bout it. 'Less he gets too much alcohol in his system which is why you can't go to a bar with him."

DJ kneels next to her and now her hands get swatted away, though gently and playfully. "You gonna deny me the enjoyment of takin' your clothes off after I toted you all the way up here?" he teases.

It takes both of them to get those boots off anyway and after each one is removed he takes a minute or so to massage her petite feet. Then, he rises to help her shimmy and squirm out of the skintight spandex covering the rest of her body.

He makes her lay down and covers her up before he leaves the room. "Aye, aye Ms. Captain of Industry. I'll get your PDA for you if you promise that you'll only mess with it for an hour and then get some rest."

"You're worse than me. Always talkin' that kind of noise. You'd think I was bein' followed around by a whole army of men. I can have a male friend without him bein desperately in love."

Monique rolled her eyes, but she had little room to talk. The girl could be jealous. Couple that with a temper and her ascendancy; it was occasionally a recipe for disaster. She had managed to learn to control her jealousy to some extent over the years.

The young woman endured being undressed before slipping into an oversized t-shirt. It belonged to DJ of course, but it was a habit of wives and girlfriends around the world to steal men's clothes. She put on a pair of bunny slippers that matched her hair; they poked out from beneath the blankets.

"I only want to check one thing I promise. Well two. I'll need someone to walk you when I take my nap."

Monique stuck out her tongue before focusing on the flat screen. The PDA was very light, but about the size of a paperback book. She needed the bigger screen for going over her calendar. She pecked at it with her stylus.

"Or you could sit with me and make sure I behave. Your choice."

"Aw Sugar, I am way, waaay worse than you in just 'bout every way. Includin' this one. I'm just better at hidin' it and don't have the luxury of a power that can make things look like 'accidents,'" he tells her. "And one is enough. It only takes one. A whole army ain't necessary."

Despite the fact that DJ's hardly been a one woman man, he has been a one woman at a time man (well, except for a few special occasions but it was always their idea.) He could be just as jealous as anyone else when someone came sniffing around his woman and Kuro wouldn't be the first guy to get a faceful of fist if DJ honestly believed that he was being inappropriate. But, as near as he could tell, the boy really was only interested in Monique as a friend, or at least respected their relationship enough not to push the boundaries.

"Yeah, yeah, I've seen you 'just check one thing,' it'll end up takin' hours and a dozen phone calls," he teases her. "But I ain't worried 'bout it. So long as you're checkin' in bed, that's good enough for me."

He starts to peel off the bodysuit that he put on down at the labs. "I do believe I will stay and keep an eye on you," he says. "Just to make sure you're a good girl, you know."

He doesn't put on one of her shirts. For one thing, he'd tear out every seam trying to get it over his shoulders. But more importantly, guys did NOT wear their wives or girlfriend's clothes unless they were "special." Instead, he slips on a pair of boxers before climbing into bed with her and looking over her shoulder at what she's doing.