Backdated to August 1st

[first_pink_lady]

By golly, she was nineteen.  Nineteen and on a tropical hunk of rock in the middle of the ocean.  Then again, it wasn't all that grim- nIneteen wasn't that landmark of an age, anyway, and the island wasn't so bad when she wasn't playing fetus-babysitter or stuck in a month-long monsoon.

If she'd been home, they would have graduated by now - most

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[since_1997]

"I've got a surprise for you."

She'd let it slip that it was her birthday soon and Paul's the sort of guy, the good sort of guy, who remembers this stuff. He's genuinely fond of Rizzo, thinks of her as a friend, and that means one thing: birthday presents. Dressed in board shorts and a t-shirt that he's pretty sure is Tom's, Paul crouches down in front of her and grins sunnily.

[since_1997]

"I just...love them both..." Paul shrugs again and pushes his hair back from his face again. He's got an elastic, but he doesn't want to pull away from Rizzo long enough to fix it.

"Jesus Christ, listen to me," he says, pulling a face. "Bitching about having two loves of my life. I should be some fucking people, right?"

[first_pink_lady]

"You're like a sailor, with a different lover in every port." She teased, but it wasn't mocking, just playful. "But it ain't hurting anyone, except you for running in circles around it."

She pushed one finger against the lock of hair that was bugging him so much. "You really should cut your hair, honey. Or at least grease it back some."

[since_1997]

"That's not how it is, Rizzo," he says, solemnly, and he knwos that she's just teasing, knows that she knows that, but it bears saying anyway. He glances up at her and pulls a face.

"Jesus. I'd look appalling with my hair slicked back."

[first_pink_lady]

"They'd both want you to be happy, dollface." She was about the furthest thing you could find from a goddamn relationship counselor, but she did have the best of intentions. Sometimes. "And you ain't cheating. You're like a widower."

She flashed him a billion-watt smile. "No way, Jose. You'd look just like James Dean."

[since_1997]

Paul snorts a laugh at that and shakes his head, which just srves to spill his hair around his face.

"Bullshit," he says, still shaking his head. "You are full of shit."

[first_pink_lady]

She smiled with devious delight, and whether or not she was full of shit, it was a shit-eating grin. "Right now you look like a street bum who might sneak some sneaky pete on the street under that shag of yours."

[since_1997]

"I like my hair, okay?" says Paul, glaring at her, although he can't keep the smile down for long. "And Tom likes it too and, until you're sleeping with one or both of us, you're just going to have to fucking deal with it, okay?"

[first_pink_lady]

Rizzo rolled her eyes at his stubborness, but two could play at that game. "Don't think I wouldn't go to those lengths just to get my way." She said archly. "You always only let those you're doing the horizontal tango with make style decisions?"

[since_1997]

"I'm pretty sure that neither Tom or Robin really give a shit about my hair, Rizzo," sys Paul, still smiling. "I mean, if you want to be third and try and buck the trend, you need to take it up with Tom."

[first_pink_lady]

"Or they're too afraid of hurting your feelings, Paulie." Something she'd never really taken to, in her honesty-is-the-best-but-often-blunt-policy.

"Tempting." She said teasingly, and she made a note of it to convince Tom that the homeless drunk shag had got to go. "It ain't a security-blanket type thing, is it?"

[since_1997]

"A security blanket?" Both of Paul's eyebrows raise, despite the fact that he's still grinning. "You should see me with short hair. I look like something from a boyband."

[first_pink_lady]

"A boy band?" She said, raising an eyebrow. "You mean like Buddy Holly and the Crickets?"

[since_1997]

"I mean like 'The Backstreet Boys' or 'N-Sync'," says Paul, and then he realises that that reference means nothing to her.

"Lame, okay? Really fucking lame."

[first_pink_lady]

"Ah." Rizzo said, and shook her head. "You'll see the light eventually, sweetheart." Quite literally, when he didn't have a curtain hanging over his eyes - but enough about that. "Hey, when'd this conversation start bein' all about you? It's my birthday, after all." She teased, poking him gently in the chest to register her complaint.

[since_1997]

"Ow!" protests Paul, wrapping his fingers around her hand to hold her immobile (careful not to squeeze too tight) while he leans in and kisses her cheek.

"What? I brought you presents, didn't I?"