A/N:

As you all know (or I hope you do, haha), today is Green's birthday. Due to a lack of planning, though, I didn't have a birthday fic for him... which I found completely unacceptable, since he's by far my favourite character. Thus, I set myself to making one nonetheless. I think the short notice and strict deadline are apparent in the story, because I haven't let it being proof-read, and the editing on my part has been minimal. So please bear with me.

Also: slight sequelness to Fashion Victim. It's better if you read that first.

Disclaimer: Do not own Pokémon. Not even Green. ;D

Birthday Present

It was four o' clock in the afternoon, and Green didn't expect to see anyone soon. He'd sent invitations for a small get-together to the people closest to him, because that was the kind of thing they expected. He'd never been one for birthday traditions; it was more of the fact that others wanted to congratulate him, than that he wanted to be congratulated.

It couldn't even be called a party, really; there was a complete lack of balloons or any other festive decorations, and he didn't plan on letting them sing Happy Birthday anytime soon. No, everything would be quiet and peaceful. Just a normal, regular evening with his friends - no fancy things, save for the presents he didn't need and the obligatory cake with candles. (He was never able to talk himself out of that one; Blue always came up with a way to get him to swallow the nightmarishly sweet stuff anyway.)

He opened the door of the fridge, and took out a white, square box. With something of a sigh, he lifted the lid and stared down at the apple cake inside of it. It was the least sugary cake he could find, certainly better than the strawberry one he had had last year (courtesy of a certain friend of his) - but still. Cake was cake. And he just didn't like the food. That always caused some problems at birthdays and parties, because people never left the cake-eating-part out; and refusing it was seen as acting offensive. What nonsense, really. Didn't they live in a free country, where everyone could eat what they wanted?

At that moment, the bell interrupted his gloomy thoughts. Green frowned, and put the box with the cake back into the fridge. Was someone here already for the party? That would mean that either he had made a mistake with the time, or the person waiting at the door had misread the email.

Everything pointed towards the latter.

While heaving another sigh (because, no, he didn't feel like being hugged or kissed so early on the day, with no drinks to distract his mind from the forced congratulations) Green walked to the door. In a routine gesture, he unlocked and opened it -

Only to see Blue waiting at the porch. Of course.

"Green, happy birthday!"

The girl in front of him smiled in the broadest way imaginable, positively radiating with glee. This didn't promise anything good, it flashed through his mind.

"Blue… you're early," he stated in an even voice, leaning against the door pillar. "Did you not get the email I sent you?"

"Of course I got that," she replied, still smiling broadly. "Who else writes such mournful birthday invitations?" The girl winked playfully at the annoyed look he gave her, and then asked with a pout, "You're not going to invite me in, honey?"

He sighed, feeling familiarly annoyed (since when did she get away with calling him names like that?); but stepped aside nonetheless. "Fine, as long as you're not going to make it too long. I have more things to do."

"Oh, I bet," Blue answered, following him into the house. "Like hanging aimlessly around in the living room and waiting for your birthday to be over?"

Green decided against contradicting her, since her guess came awfully close to the truth. Instead, he turned around once they had reached said living room and looked her in the eye. "Well. Is there are reason for your visit?"

Blue's lips turned upwards. (Not a good sign, he felt himself once again thinking.)

"Of course there is, Green. Have I ever done anything without a well thought-out plan and motivation?"

"I guess that's something I can't deny," he replied with folded arms, thinking of the many schemes that stood in her name. If her actions hadn't lacked any form of morality, she'd pose a good example for kids in terms of planning ahead. Of course, the lies that went with it had less of an educational value.

Blue's lips curled some more. "Denying would be the same as lying, Green, something you are so very hostile against. But, I will be a good girl and not keep you in the dark anymore. I came here, because I have something to give you."

Green raised an eyebrow. "Really. And you couldn't do that tonight, at the actual proper occasion for such a thing?"

"Of course I could, but wanted to do it now. Makes it more special, you know." She gave him one of her broad smiles once again, and then directed her attention to the bag hanging around her shoulder. After a bit of rummaging, she fished out a rectangular, pinkly-wrapped package; the bright purple ribbon that kept it in place was - he supposed - meant to be the figurative cherry on top of the cake. "Here you go! You'll love it, I'm sure of it."

Being more-than-slightly on his guard (because really, what was it that Blue thought he'd love?) he accepted the gift. After another suspicious glance at the brunette, who was now positively beaming (certainly not a good sign, his mind told him for the third time that afternoon), he began unwrapping the package.

Carefully, he untied the ribbon, and placed the purple line at the side table next to him. (It was made of rather good quality, and he might be able to use it again for some purpose - though, admittedly, the colour did pose a problem.) Then, he opened the layers of pink packing-paper that obscured the by then still unknown gift. He slid back the last side, and a black surface was revealed to him.

He raised an eyebrow. "Does this gift of yours have a hidden meaning I fail to see?"

Blue waved her hand, impatient and excited at the same time. "No, no, turn it around, silly. You'll see."

Under the eager gaze of the girl before him, he turned the artefact around - and, literally, fell silent. He found himself looking at a picture of him and Blue, dressed in evening clothing; he a dark, slim-fitting suit; she a long, opaque-coloured gown. Blue was smiling at the camera, radiant and beautiful; but he looked the other way. His eyes were on the girl next to him, posing and smiling in a way that suggested experience she didn't, in fact, have. But even through the glass of the photo frame, he could see the longing in his gaze; the hidden want behind his outstretched arm. He felt his throat close.

"…this is a picture of the photo shoot you made me do," said Green, slowly. "With that crazy photographer."

Blue smiled. "Yes, that's the one. I received the screenshots this week, and thought that it would make a good birthday present; this one is my favourite out of all the pictures."

Green didn't say anything, and just stared at the photo. To think that this photograph would be shown throughout the country - published in magazines; used, perhaps, in ads at the subway or alongside the road… His gaze travelled once again to the one in the photo, taking in the way he looked at Blue. Soon, that gaze would be known to everybody, friends and foes alike.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that he wasn't acting - everyone knew he failed at that.

"Right," he said, clearing his throat. "So this is a… preview of what everyone's going to see."

Blue laughed, and walked over to him, looking at the picture in his hands. "No, not this one; this is a picture they're not gonna use in the campaign. You know how they took hundreds of photos… can't use every single one of them, can they? But, personally, I really liked this one. So I asked if I could get a copy of it and framed it. We both look quite handsome, don't you think?" She nudged him playfully, sparkles apparent in her eyes.

He didn't answer, and merely looked at the photo in his hands. Different thoughts whirled through his head; they weren't going to publish this picture. That was good news. But there were countless others, ones where he might even look worse… He sighed, and diverted his attention to Blue.

"Well, thank you. I guess this is a thoughtful gift."

"You guess?" asked Blue, eyebrows raised.

"Since I don't know what I'm going to do with the picture, it doesn't fall into the category 'useful'," he answered, ignoring her indignant expression. "But then again, you did put some effort in it, so… I guess I should appreciate it."

"Like heck you should!" the girl replied, hands on her hip. "This is really the best present I've ever given someone!"

"Whatever. I'll hang it somewhere in the house, don't get all fired up about it."

"Oh, like in the garage or something?" answered Blue in a rising voice. "So that no-one else will see?"

Instead of answering, he placed the photo frame beside him; then, he said, "I don't know where I will place it, Blue. It's no use getting angry about it."

"But I -"

"And I think it's time to leave. You know I have a party to prepare for."

"What? But you never make arrangements for your birthdays! This is just a lame excuse to get me out of the house, you ungrateful, spoiled, lazy - "

He cut her off by placing an arm around her shoulders and guiding her towards the door. "I'd love to hear the rest of that undoubtedly fascinating rant, but I simply don't have the time. So if you'd be so kind to step outside, I'd appreciate it."

"You really are the worst party host ever, Green!" the girl shouted, before the door fell close behind her.

Then, there was suddenly only silence - and Green couldn't help but sigh. He guessed she was right about him being a bad host; but then again, it had never been his idea to celebrate birthdays. All the fuss wasn't necessary for him…

Still, there was one thing she hadn't been right about.

He walked back towards the living room, and picked up the photo he had moments before placed on the side table. With an impenetrable gaze, he looked at the picture in his hands, silent and completely still.

Then, a smile appeared on his face.

Blue couldn't know, but the gift meant more to him than any other present in the past; it was a tangible reminder of the afternoon they had spent those few weeks ago; of the complicated but at the same time indispensable relationship they had with each other. He couldn't tell her, and perhaps he couldn't even tell himself; but with this picture, he didn't need words.

Only a fool would hang something like this in the garage, he thought, a small smile on his face as the girl that had just left floated into his vision.

- and with that, he walked away to find that one perfect spot on the wall.