[ The heart emoji... she's really too cute, isn't she? ]
Let's shoot for at least four days okay?
[ The days wind up passing quickly enough, and the day of their leave comes soon. Jaime's a little nervous - their first time away together! Their first time getting to go away on a date, to relax - but he's mostly excited. He told Cass to let him know if anything needed his attention but that he'd otherwise be taking the day off, swept up the Memorial Centre, took plenty of work off at the garage, and took his summer semester off.
He's ready. They're going to have a vacation. They've got no obligations for the next few days except to do whatever it is they want to do. He already came by her place last night to grab her bags and his to fly them to their destination ahead of time. And when it comes to picking her up...
He could go through the front door if he wanted to. But it's tradition to just tap at her window. ]
Ahem! Calling all passengers for the Beetle Express! We've got one first-class ticket, coming right up.
will we ever use the logs comm for its intended purpose.
[ At least four? She sends back a quick confirmation, and arranges the time, but even if it's for her birthday, uncertainty creeps around the edges of her thoughts. They haven't spent anywhere close to that much time together in one go, even without leaving town. At least, if you exclude that whole mess after the divination. What if he gets bored, of being around just her? Or, worse...
The days leading up pass quickly, and it's a little easier to set doubt aside; by the time the day comes and mostly goes, she's cycled back to excitement. It would be nice to be somewhere else for a while. She still doesn't know where they're going. It's been three months since their trip to the desert; maybe they'll go back?
(It's been three months since he confessed. Since their first kiss. And thinking about it like that is an easy distraction from unease.)
This time around, she knows to expect the window. The blinds are still down, and her fingers worry with the draw cord, delaying. ]
First class, huh? How are you going to run a drink service without dropping anything?
[ Rude. With one more little hesitation, Ruka finally pulls up the blinds. They've been dating for a few months now, but they haven't had the time (or the endurance for public scrutiny) to go on any proper dates. Technically, this is their first. And, so, the Ruka on the other side of the glass is a little more put-together than Jaime usually sees her: the bags under her eye are gone, blotted out, lashes darker, eyeliner more pronounced. Gold and black in a sweep of eye shadow; lips stained a little redder, a little darker; eye patch a little darker in color than usual. Little stud earrings; a gauzy, semi-transparent golden shawl wrapped over her shoulders, only barely obscuring the low neckline of the dress.
Her fingers play with the blinds cord; her gloves are black, this time. ]
I'm not drinking wine out of a thermos, if that was your plan.
I could turn my shoulder into a cupholder, you know. Sometimes Khaji's all, oh, you want an extra finger? How about some toes? A cupholder should be easy.
[ He's probably lucky to have a girlfriend when he says stuff like that. But that's a part of his life now and, well, Ruka's certainly heard weirder. She would have run away a long time ago if she didn't want to hear all about Jaime's janky abilities - especially when they happen to be benefiting her.
...though Jaime doesn't think she's actually going to want to take him up on that offer. He hovers outside of her window, smiling down at her, half pleased, half anxious. He wants her to like it. And the way she's dressed... is she expecting something nicer than what he's got planned? He'd thought he had the right of it, but maybe it should be more extravagant, like the hotel they'd been in for New Years, that fancy bar, that dazzling view. He's never thought big like that.
Gosh. This is big, isn't it? A romantic vacation. He's never had one of those. If he doesn't do it right this time, that'll just be an excuse for a do-over. ]
Oh, I suppose that's true. But I wouldn't want to impose.
[ On Khaji, specifically, she means: they both know she's past concerns like that with Jaime for most circumstances. Close description might be bulldozing, but that would imply Jaime had ever put up any sort of resistance to her in the first place.
She opens the window, ducks beneath it, and sits on the ledge for balance as she begins to swing herself out. They've done this enough times for it to feel natural. She reaches for his shoulders; her gaze doesn't quite meet his. ]
Thanks. You like it? [ A little flustered; she isn't fishing for flattery. It's a genuine question.]
listen we do things the most LOW EFFORT WAY POSSIBLE tyvm
[ Jaime accommodates her easily. They've done this a hundred times before - or it feels like they have - and holding her's always been a peace of cake. Her hand slots easily into the slope of his shoulders, his arm slots right into place beneath her knees and tucked firmly around her upper back. He's not taking her anywhere fancy enough to warrant it - or at least, that wasn't planned; he's pretty sure he can work something out somehow - but he'll certainly appreciate it nonetheless. ]
It looks good on you. [ Not you look good in it. Jaime's seen her frazzled in her PJs and it still sent a thrill through him. ] We don't get many opportunities to wear stuff like that, huh? Maybe we should more often.
[ And just like that, they're off, a familiar blue bubble encompassing them as they head to their destination. ]
Edited 2019-07-08 08:41 (UTC)
WE ARE.... CONSERVATIONISTS OF ENERGY ??? THAT'S A THING RIGHT
[ She's flushing a little, but it's nice to hear. Ruka knows what she looks like, too sick and too thin and too small and too weird for the regular type of pretty. Even though that's true, Jaime means it when he says it, so that's enough.
The carry itself is as easy as ever, but there's a different feel to it now. The fabric of her dress mutes it some, thankfully, but that's still his arm against the backs of her legs, his chest pressed all against her side. It's probably better not to think too much about it right now, but it never quite leaves her thoughts. ]
Most of my nicer things are from Kanaya, but I still have a couple things from before. [ Before the world ended, she means; she may have only been sixteen back then, but it's not like she's gotten any taller. Everything still fits her, even if it doesn't exactly fit this world. ]
But we can, if you want to. You looked really good at New Year's. You had fun, right? I know we didn't exactly give you a choice about anything.
[ Which had been mostly Ruka's idea, and it definitely doesn't sound like she's apologizing for it... rude. ]
Oh, um -- thank you. [ Of course he's pleased to be complimented. He always is. Ruka's caught on by now. He clears his throat, looking away from her for a moment, but it's less avoidance and more fond embarrassment. There's nuance to the ways he looks away, sometimes. ]
It's okay. If you gave me a choice, I wouldn't have showed up. [ His eyes slide back to her. ] And that's when I realized how bad I got it, so I'm gonna chalk that up as a win.
[ Anything that drove them closer together sooner other than grand catastrophe is going to be a good thing in his book. ]
It was great. I had a really good time. And, I mean, yeah, we can do it again! [ With another flap of his wings, they sail out of the city, over to fly above the ocean. It's telling how much faith she's got in him, that she lets him do things like this. He's pretty sure a lot of people would absolutely refuse this method of traveling and want to go on a plane like a normal couple. ]
I'm not gonna ruin the surprise or nothing, but just as a heads-up, where we're going, um... let's say it's not quite that fancy.
[ He hadn't given her a lot of guidance on what to pack, either — just a temperature range, really — but Jaime doesn't seem the type to opt for a black-tie affair if he has a choice in the matter. Sure, she's in something nicer, prettier, but it's not because of where they're going. ]
But, I'm glad. About the party. I mean, I knew you would have turned it down if Kanaya asked you, or if I did; that's why I went through Khaji for everything. [ Did Khaji ever tell Jaime that he'd known a solid week in advance what Ruka was planning? Welp. ] It was kind of—
[ The conversation had felt easy, but Ruka's voice cuts off suddenly — her body goes tense in his arms, and her face pales. She had been staring off at nothing in particular, but she looks at Jaime now, aghast. ]
[ Now that they're together, Jaime had thought they could talk about their pasts - well, Jaime's past, and by past, he means months of embarrassing pining - in peace, but apparently he was wrong. He certainly didn't expect that reaction. He looks down at her, half baffled, half amused. ]
Um, yes? Is that such a bad thing? [ He shakes his head, looking back out at the horizon beyond them. ]
You're making me feel better about my powers of subtlety with that kind of reaction.
I thought you knew! I - I mean, I said that I liked you for a while, didn't I?
[ Okay, now he's starting to feel a little embarrassed. Not too embarrassed, because she wound up liking him back - once she was reminded that that was a possibility; Jaime will happily take it - but still! ]
Well, yeah, [ she offers, in the quiet not-quite-grumbling tone of someone confessing to something embarrassing, already knowing they'll be humiliated for it in turn, ] but I just thought that meant, like... a month or so...
[ Mid-February, give or take. Around Valentine's day, when she'd so blithely messaged him about her kidnapping into that strange house, and how he'd so easily thrown himself into the same danger because of it. Around the anniversary of her arrival, and her returns, and the stable footing a year makes.
As though liking her was a choice he'd made, after measuring her actions and assessing the risks. As though she could only be liked by deliberation, by decision.
Were they anywhere else, Ruka would pivot and evade attention at this point, change rooms or topics, or any other way she could avoid close scrutiny, but squirming for discomfort now would only end up with her dropped neatly into the ocean. (It wouldn't kill her, and Jaime certainly wouldn't let her drown, but her dress would get wet, and who knew how long it would be before she could change into something else.) Instead, it's the opposite: tension means holding on tighter, and evasion means cleaving closer, hiding her face against his shoulder. ]
You always had a million other things going on, anyway. [ More important things. ] When would you have had time to be mooning over me, before that?
[ Longer than even Jaime had known, really. He can't put a finger on when his feelings changed, just that it was far before he'd finally managed to yank his head out of his ass. It happened somewhere between him not wanting her to walk away - when she was the one who did, every time - hungry for her companionship and happiness and comfort and stability in ways that he didn't hope for it from others. It's not more. It's just different.
He should have figured it out before, really. He'd wanted to be close to her, all the time. And they had been close, unusually close for friends - and now, hugging her to his chest as they sail through the air, he got his wish. This probably isn't the best place to be having this conversation, but they are. They're trapped now! ]
It's not the sort of thing that you, like, choose to do or make time for or whatever. If it happens, it happens. [ And somehow, Jaime had found plenty of time for mooning. ] We spent a lot of time together even with a million other things going on anyway, didn't we?
[ She hums a little note without comment, not entirely sure how to word a response. They spent a lot of time together, drifting in and out of orbit as the months went by, but for all Jaime may have felt about Ruka walking away, it feels like she was usually the one chasing after him in the first place. New Year's Eve was technically Kanaya's idea, but Ruka's the one who arranged Jaime's surprise-to-him commitment; she's the one who got on his case after his roommate ported out, or after that mess with the Negotiator, bulldozing her way through the walls he put up but making it seem only like pushing back a loose fabric curtain. She was usually the one harassing him at parties and other get-togethers, interrupting whatever else he had going on. Like that, maybe it's no surprise she was always the one pulling back. Why she felt more like an imposition than a friend.
But that — that loathsome, burdensome uncertainty — plagues her heart for every person, for every time and circumstance. It only weighs more heavily with Jaime because of how much more important he's been to her. With how much she's wanted to help him, with how much she wanted him to find some way to heal from all his agonies, with how much she's done, or tried to do, to accomplish that — it's more effort than she's spent for pretty much anyone. She was never willing to examine why. It is a little too late to examine why.
It is, in more ways than one, too daunting to examine why. It is too frightening to examine why.
Instead, she presses a chaste kiss to the corner of his jaw. ]
Sorry if I'm being weird, [ she murmurs, still close to... where his ear WOULD be if he..... still had them......... god the beetle suit is fucked up about the dumbest things. ] I know I should be used to this by now, but I don't know how to, really. It's never felt like this before.
[ didn't you have a boyfriend before ruka. didn't you date that guy for two fucking years ruka. what the hell. ]
[ Oh, boy. His heart's doing funny things. And that's either a very bad or a very good sign, considering they're on their way to spend a good few days with nobody but each other. He knows she really likes him - they wouldn't be doing all of this otherwise - but it's just couples stuff. He always figured she'd done it all before, even if the last guys are supposedly pretty awful. He looks straight out and over the ocean, a little caught up for it in a moment. He's always been a romantic sort, even if he's a romantic sort who'd been fighting it.
Things don't need to be different to be special. It's what he's always told himself, even with Traci, who'd been with plenty of people before him. But if it's different for her too... ]
It's, um. It's the same for me. I didn't even think I was ever gonna do anything like this - or even feel it, not for a while. Maybe not ever. [ It seemed better that way. He gives her arms a little squeeze. ]
My experience? Oh, you mean... [ Eridan, of course; she shakes her head, and then lays it to rest against his shoulder. She can't hear the hammer of his pulse, but she can feel it, like the warmth of a sunbeam reflected off a mirror. ] ... No, it's... hmmm. I don't really know how to explain it, but you don't know what I was like, back then, and... um. The guys who've been interested in me, they haven't been interested in me. You know? It's more like... physical stuff, or the idea of having a girlfriend, or the novelty of... being with someone like me.
... I feel like I'm me, when I'm with you. [ And maybe that's dumb, as far as confessions go. Shouldn't most people feel like themselves all the time, because they are themselves? But she hopes he'll understand what it means. ] I'm glad it's you.
They didn't know what they were missing out on. And I feel the same way, it's, um -- it sounds dumb.
[ He regrets even starting to say something before he already did. They said they were going to move at their own place, but Jaime's pace is breakneck; his feelings have been too strong to contain this whole time, and there's no mistaking their intensity, or the fact that it seemed to happen at the exact right time. Like this was meant to happen. ]
It's just that people act like you gotta change, like, as a person when you get to be with someone else. But I feel like I'm more like me. You know me. [ Better than almost anyone else, he thinks. ]
But I've, um... I've only ever been with one other person before.
[ Girls really weren't interested in him. And even if they were, he hadn't been ready for it. He thinks. It's hard to tell, now. ]
[ They both sound dumb... because talking about feelings always sounds dumb...
His little rebuke of other guys' priorities is something she only mentally rolls her eye at — they weren't missing much, she thinks, especially not with the way she was back then — but it's not worth countering with words. Not when he continues on with something more important. I'm more like me, he says, and you know me, and it feels like her heart trips three times before it manages to climb into her throat.
There's something so intimate about the sentiment. She spends so much time agonizing over the things she doesn't know, running into gaps she doesn't know how to bridge, learning little bits and pieces she isn't sure how to set them into a larger picture. She is afraid of those gaps — not of not knowing things, but not knowing the boundaries of what she doesn't know, not knowing what to ask, not knowing what she's missing, not knowing what she's ignoring.
But you know me — it sweeps sand into all those gaps in her knowledge, smooths out the rough edges of imperfect understanding. It's, you understand me. It's, you get what's important to me. It's, you see who I am. It's a leveling sentiment, meant only really to make things more plain, more clear, but Ruka herself is leveled by it, bowled over. ]
I... [ A hand laying flat against his back curls into a fist, as though to drag nails across his spine, as though to grab a fistful of shirt fabric, but unable to do either. Her throat still feels clogged up, and her voice is made quiet, dry. ] ... I don't know what to say.
[ She is probably not talking about the ex-girlfriend. ]
[ It's funny - he thought that of anything, she'd latch onto his lack of experience. He knows that that would be a negative for some, though he thinks Ruka's in too deep for it to matter now. He's old enough now that some experience is expected, and is a good thing; the more you get, the less likely you are to freak out about something small, right? But instead her expression changes and so does her voice, and it's not about his past with Traci at all.
It's funny. They know each other well. She knows him well, just like he said. But there are some things that he felt were too obvious to bother saying that seem to strike her deeply, as though she can see him straight to the core in some ways, but anything to do with her is just a swamp of uncertainty. It felt dumb to say it - and it still feels dumb; there's no easy way of talking about this stuff without sounding utterly pretentious - but maybe he should, if it's that surprising to her.
Of course she knows him. She gets who he is, not just what he seems to be, or what he tries to put out into the world, or who he tries to convince himself he is. She sees what's there. And then, after she saw it, she decided there was something worthwhile enough to stick around. He look down at her, heart made tender that something so small could mean that much to her. ]
That you're happy that you're here? Because I am. [ No better person to go away with, right? Just the two of them, to be who they want to be halfway across the globe, the water whizzing by beneath them as they travel at a quick pace - a pace that he intends on making quicker, once he gets the jets into play. He leans down, eyes crinkling around the corners of even his suit, and gives her a kiss on the cheek. ]
[ It's much too late to blame the speed of flight for the heady dizziness that strikes her; too late to blame the blur of the ocean beneath them for vertigo. It's all, it's just Jaime, all what he says and how he feels and the way sincerity just suffuses everything he does. It leaves her feeling too warm all over, cheeks red for something like embarrassment even before he kisses her.
She doesn't know how to get used to this. Simple little statements shouldn't overwhelm her this badly every time, should they? She should be able to take them with an easy reciprocation, or a thank you, or a little bubble of satisfaction, but instead she shuts down into this discombobulated mess. It would be just her luck if he kept going on like this, and her poor beleaguered heart just went into arrest rather than keep this pace. It's still hard to speak. ]
I don't care about here, [ she manages, though it's hard to form the sounds properly when she can't stop smiling, ] I'm happy that I'm with you.
[ Jaime smiles back at her, so hard his cheeks hurt. He'd spent so long being the sappiest person in any room that it feels good to have it returned. That they're both on the same page. They've been so many places and have been through so much when the truth of it is that it doesn't matter where you are, as long as you're with the person you're supposed to be. Even through the fog of what must be the thrill of a new relationship, Jaime can feel that down to his bones. Ruka's one of the people he was supposed to be with, whatever it looked like. He's just lucky that she wanted to be with him in the same way he wanted to be with her. ]
That's what I meant.
[ Eventually even conversation between the two of them will lull, at least long enough so that Jaime can focus on their destination. Khaji even joins in for a little while, texting Ruka irately about someone online he'd gotten in some argument with the other day, groaning about inconsistencies in some system, chattering about holes he'd found in some games he'd been checking out until he too falls silent. Ruka will be able to tell where they're headed before they get to. It was probably easy to guess the whole time: they're going to Japan.
But Tokyo comes and goes. They sweep right over its tall spires and its ever-present glow to somewhere smaller, quieter. The place they land doesn't look noteworthy at all. The lights are infrequent and dim, populated more by small houses than it is by any buildings of particular note, an ocean of green bracketed by quiet rivers and mountains greeting them. Jaime lands in front of one of the houses. It's quaint and traditional, but otherwise completely and utterly ordinary, old enough that there's some visible wear and tear on it. ]
It's, um... I didn't plan anything fancy, really. If you wanna head to the big city instead, we can do that, easy.
[ When Ruka steps inside, she'll see that the inside is just as quaint as the outside. Despite him flying her halfway across the globe for this, the vista waiting for her looks a whole lot more like what any boyfriend would get for their girlfriend, or at least what their best efforts would be. There's a banner stuck from wall to wall with putty - HAPPY BIRTHDAY RUKA - a bottle of something bubbly shoved in a canister filled with what must be melted ice, a bouquet of flowers, a cake, and a bag that must be for whatever it is that he got her. It's something that he could have done for her at home. There was no need to come here.
He trails in after her. ]
But it's quiet here. And peaceful. And there's not a whole lot of people. The guy I rented this place from said that there's even a lot of cats that come by - he left us some treats, if we wanna feed them, and places to go walking, and places to eat. And there's supposed to be fireworks soon. And... I thought maybe you'd like some time away.
[ Away from so many people and prying eyes. No crises, nobody's emotions to have to attend to but her own, no flurry of everything like there is in cities. Just the two of them and the people making their quiet life out here, with nothing they have to do and nobody that needs their distraction. When he stopped to think about where he wanted to take her, he knew he wanted to take her somewhere familiar. As though they had met like normal people do, back in her home world, and they'd taken the train for a weekend away. Even now, they're surrounded by silence, save for the wind rustling through the trees, the quiet sounds of nature outside, their ginger footsteps against the mats lining the floor.
Maybe he should have done something truly spectacular. Taken her out for some eight course dinner and treated her to a swanky room in a fantastic hotel, where they could cheers on the rooftop and go dancing and try shopping in all of the best boutiques an check out the nightlife. But instead they're here. Just the two of them. ]
[ God, he's cute. Even with his real face hidden and distorted under the armor, his heart shines in his eyes, in the bend of his cheeks. He doesn't need to be doing... whatever it is he has planned, but it's sweet that he wants to all the same. Even this much is nice.
But they speed on, conversation ebbing; as ever, using the mental link to the Network is a little disconcerting, but it's easy to fall back into the rhythm of it with Khaji. (It's not the same as when he was with her, those few short minutes on the Moon Base; text isn't the same as the sound of his voice in her thoughts, or the pressure of his presence in her body. It's nothing close to the same.) But even for as familiar and easy as it is to trade complaints and jokes, all those conversations ease, and fall back, and without intending it, Ruka eventually falls asleep. It's always easier with him.
It's a short sleep, dreamless and barely restful, and it's hard to tell at first that time has passed at all — they're still flying, and flying towards the setting sun only seems to stretch time out, make it seem longer. The international date line means nothing to the burning of the sun. But endless ocean below and beyond them is broken now, ships and land and coast and bay and the sharp jag of metropolis. It's this that wakes her up properly — not the blur of emotion beneath them, indistinct and hazy like running through fog, but the sight of the city itself.
Ruka has been to two different Earths since leaving home, but in neither of them has she gone to Japan before now. In those, and in her own, she has never been to Tokyo. Her Japan is different. Maybe not in any way other people can really understand, but she sees it whenever she sees maps of it, sees the swath of blue water where an island should be, farmland and fishing villages where should be a glittering jewel of a city. It wasn't the capitol in the official sense, but it was the most important city in the world. More than that, Ruka had never seen anything of that country outside of Neo Domino, outside of Satellite. She never went to Tokyo to shop, to experience the culture; she never traveled into the country, to the mountains or the forests or anywhere else.
But before she can fully catastrophize — Jaime isn't really bringing her, the empath, to one of the most highly populated cities on the planet, right? Right? — they just continue on and blow right past even the farthest sprawl of the city boundaries. Ruka doesn't say anything aloud, but maybe Jaime felt it: the anxious way her arms tightened around his shoulders, and the slow bleed of tension as she relaxed.
They continue on. Black and gray trade for brown and green. They touch down while Ruka is looking this way and that, taking in the view of the old, small village; when Jaime finally sets Ruka down, she clings to his arms for a moment for stability, legs stiff and half-asleep from their long stillness. This is... after the scare of seeing Tokyo, this is not at all what she expected. With slow, not-quite-steady steps, Ruka leads the way into the house. She hears Jaime talking behind her, trailing back like a shadow, but her attention is flitting between so many other smaller things. The patches of moss on the pathway; the load-bearing pillars just before the entryway; the calls of unfamiliar birds in the trees; the song of cicadas, something she's never heard outside of movies. She enters the house. ]
Oh—
[ A startled, thoughtless sound, muffled immediately as Ruka's hands cover her mouth. Her breath catches, and her steps toward the table, the tacked-up banner. Her breath is uneven, and her steps slow, weaving. The decoration shouldn't seem like much: a quaint little cake, a bouquet of flowers, all the rest. It's nothing fancy, but it feels extravagant. The flight over took so long; how many trips had he made to pick this place, and get it set up? How long ago did he decide to do this, how did he justify how much effort this would be, how much time, how—
—and Jaime's still talking, nervous, as though he still needs to talk up what he's done, to puff it up to her satisfaction, when she's struggling against being overwhelmed. It is a losing struggle. ]
Oh, Jaime, you... I don't— I, nobody's ever— [ Her vision blurs. ] —all this for me?
[ A romantic getaway is a lot, but it had always been the agenda. A cake, some presents, her name on the wall — simple things like that shouldn't hit as hard as this, but explanation is harder. Nobody's ever done this for me. Who would? Not the parents she can't remember, absent from her life for so long before she left that world that she can't even remember their faces, remember their names. Going to the old world, who could? There were so many people she loved, but time with them was always so short — who had any to spare on extravagances like this? So many disasters, so much crisis, so much loss. And of course, the people who loved her, too, some were there when she was hurt, helped as they could to piece enough of her back together to keep on going, but this isn't a way to save her life. This isn't a bribe for her attention. This isn't obligation. This isn't a peace offering. This isn't bandage atop bandage atop wounds still hurting. This is, this is only, it's her birthday, and he wanted to give her something nice. That's all.
Ruka turns back towards Jaime; she hasn't even been out of his arms for five minutes and she's already drawn right back to him. Her hands tremble against his cheeks, and she shouldn't have bothered with makeup at all because she's just going to cry it all off. Is this too pathetic? Is this too needy? It must be, but she kisses him all the same, given too much and still left greedy. A girl's allowed to be greedy on her birthday, isn't she?
(Of course, since they've crossed the date line, it isn't her birthday anymore, but it's close enough to count, right?) ]
[ Jaime doesn't realize what's going through Ruka's mind while he's busy rambling - despite his talking ostensibly being for her benefit, he's a little too focused on himself and his own fretting and worrying. This isn't like what Ruka had done for him, arranging a trip to a swanky rooftop bar to an exotic place none of them had ever been in, in an unreasonably fancy hotel, heck, even making sure he had custom clothes for the occasion. He'd hoped that she'd be pleased, touched, maybe a little surprised that they get to spend some quiet time away, but that's it.
All of the trappings of what he's put together aren't so special. This is the sort of thing that his Dad would set up for his Mom on her birthday after a long shift. She'd shrug off her coat and toe off her shoes, massaging at her sore feet as she hopped forward on one foot to step into where Jaime's Dad, Jaime, and Milagro would be waiting, a pleased if not beleagured smile on her face. He's grown up around this, all his life. It's something he'd gotten before in return, only without the flowers. It's not special. It's ordinary. But Jaime's always liked ordinary, and anything else he could think up just seemed too artificial. This is him, store-bought cake and dollar-store banner and all. This is the type of life he wants to lead. Honestly, he expects her to laugh. Not at him, but that laughter you get when you're pleased but unsurprised, a sound of contentment more than anything else.
And then she turns around and acts like he'd given her the world on a silver platter. He stumbles a little as she turns back to him, legs stiff and feet fuzzy after so long spent at a high speed - longer than it usually takes; it's a trip that generally takes him moments, but he didn't dare move that quickly with Ruka in tow, even with the forcefield around them - taken completely off-guard by her reaction. All this, for some flowers? Some cake? A banner he'd picked up from the store? The trip over was the special part, not all this. But despite his pleased confusion, his hands find their place on the small of her back as he kisses her back, never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. ]
I mean -- yeah, of course! [ He says, brow a little creased, mouth curled up at the corners. ] Of course it is. You deserve a nice birthday.
[ And that's exactly what she deserves. Not everything has to be the highest of highs, the lowest of lows. Sometimes things can just be nice. Reliable. A glimpse into the world as it should be - or, rather, Ruka's glimpse into the world as it should be as Jaime sees it. ]
[ It's hard to think of what else to say, what else to do. It's easy instead to sink where she stands; let him support her still-uneasy balance, let the heels of her palms rest against his jaw, thumbs at his cheeks, let them fall into a moment of stillness. Her heart beats too fast and too loud, but it doesn't seem to matter how she tries to subdue it, nothing works. He isn't helping. Not with that thrumming little puppy-dog anxiety, hoping she'll like it, not with his simple, earnest declarations. He makes it sound so easy, something like you deserve this, but it became so hard for her to believe easy.
It feels, as ever, that she doesn't. It feels like if he knew her better, knew more about the things she's done, the things she's allowed, then maybe — maybe he wouldn't change his mind, not now, not the way they are now, but maybe he'd have to think about it. She doesn't want him to; she's selfish, she knows, but she doesn't want to let go of this. She wants to keep this for as long as she can, as much as she can get away with. He isn't helping, not with how he holds her, or with the fond way he smiles at her, or with the soft darkness in his eyes.
It's so strange. A year ago, they were barely able to call themselves friends. And before that, it should have been nothing for the distance between them, but that wasn't true. Her graveyard is full, after all, and the Jaime of this world has his own ghost. Of course she kept her distance; she wanted to protect him. She wanted to do right. She wanted him to be okay, and to be happy, and to be himself. He didn't know her then, and if he'd ever looked at her twice, it was only for surprise, but he was always important to her. He was always, always going to mean something to her, no matter how much or how little he resembled his ghost.
He was always going to matter this much to her. No matter what he did, or how he felt, no matter if he never learned her name; her heart has always been too stupid to discard anything. She was always going to love him, somehow, but it's strange that it took this shape. Strange, that after everything she's said, and done, and left unsaid, and left undone, that he would ever look at her like this in return.
Her nose bumps against his; she can't pull away. She leaves it unsaid. ]
I love it. [ It's the most she can manage. It's the closest she can get right now. ] Thank you.
That's all I wanted, [ Jaime says, as earnest as he ever is - and she knows he's sincere. Even if she'd wanted to do something he didn't - to go clubbing, or dancing, or shopping, or any other number of things that Jaime's not comfortable with - he would have done it for her in a heartbeat. It just so happens that what sounded like an ideal weekend away to him seemed like something she would like too. Close enough to her original home to have a nice look around, distant enough not to hammer down on uncanny it is. Simple, and quiet, without too many people, enough space so that she can sit and breathe.
The cats, though - the bit about the cats is what he thinks she'll like. He's pretty sure they don't like him anyway. ]
You're welcome. And hey, this is just the start! We've got lots of time to do... whatever we want, really.
[ When's the last time she had that? When's the last time he had that? A vacation, a proper one, with nobody to answer to but each other. Even if they just wind up sleeping all day and flying to get some decent food, it will be worth it.
He's pretty sure they'll do more than sleep. His hands slide down her arms to grasp at her wrists, tangling their fingers together, not quite moving away. ]
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Let's shoot for at least four days okay?
[ The days wind up passing quickly enough, and the day of their leave comes soon. Jaime's a little nervous - their first time away together! Their first time getting to go away on a date, to relax - but he's mostly excited. He told Cass to let him know if anything needed his attention but that he'd otherwise be taking the day off, swept up the Memorial Centre, took plenty of work off at the garage, and took his summer semester off.
He's ready. They're going to have a vacation. They've got no obligations for the next few days except to do whatever it is they want to do. He already came by her place last night to grab her bags and his to fly them to their destination ahead of time. And when it comes to picking her up...
He could go through the front door if he wanted to. But it's tradition to just tap at her window. ]
Ahem! Calling all passengers for the Beetle Express! We've got one first-class ticket, coming right up.
will we ever use the logs comm for its intended purpose.
The days leading up pass quickly, and it's a little easier to set doubt aside; by the time the day comes and mostly goes, she's cycled back to excitement. It would be nice to be somewhere else for a while. She still doesn't know where they're going. It's been three months since their trip to the desert; maybe they'll go back?
(It's been three months since he confessed. Since their first kiss. And thinking about it like that is an easy distraction from unease.)
This time around, she knows to expect the window. The blinds are still down, and her fingers worry with the draw cord, delaying. ]
First class, huh? How are you going to run a drink service without dropping anything?
[ Rude. With one more little hesitation, Ruka finally pulls up the blinds. They've been dating for a few months now, but they haven't had the time (or the endurance for public scrutiny) to go on any proper dates. Technically, this is their first. And, so, the Ruka on the other side of the glass is a little more put-together than Jaime usually sees her: the bags under her eye are gone, blotted out, lashes darker, eyeliner more pronounced. Gold and black in a sweep of eye shadow; lips stained a little redder, a little darker; eye patch a little darker in color than usual. Little stud earrings; a gauzy, semi-transparent golden shawl wrapped over her shoulders, only barely obscuring the low neckline of the dress.
Her fingers play with the blinds cord; her gloves are black, this time. ]
I'm not drinking wine out of a thermos, if that was your plan.
NEVER
[ He's probably lucky to have a girlfriend when he says stuff like that. But that's a part of his life now and, well, Ruka's certainly heard weirder. She would have run away a long time ago if she didn't want to hear all about Jaime's janky abilities - especially when they happen to be benefiting her.
...though Jaime doesn't think she's actually going to want to take him up on that offer. He hovers outside of her window, smiling down at her, half pleased, half anxious. He wants her to like it. And the way she's dressed... is she expecting something nicer than what he's got planned? He'd thought he had the right of it, but maybe it should be more extravagant, like the hotel they'd been in for New Years, that fancy bar, that dazzling view. He's never thought big like that.
Gosh. This is big, isn't it? A romantic vacation. He's never had one of those. If he doesn't do it right this time, that'll just be an excuse for a do-over. ]
You look nice.
WE JUST CAN'T BE BOTHERED WITH CUT TEXT
[ On Khaji, specifically, she means: they both know she's past concerns like that with Jaime for most circumstances. Close description might be bulldozing, but that would imply Jaime had ever put up any sort of resistance to her in the first place.
She opens the window, ducks beneath it, and sits on the ledge for balance as she begins to swing herself out. They've done this enough times for it to feel natural. She reaches for his shoulders; her gaze doesn't quite meet his. ]
Thanks. You like it? [ A little flustered; she isn't fishing for flattery. It's a genuine question.]
listen we do things the most LOW EFFORT WAY POSSIBLE tyvm
[ Jaime accommodates her easily. They've done this a hundred times before - or it feels like they have - and holding her's always been a peace of cake. Her hand slots easily into the slope of his shoulders, his arm slots right into place beneath her knees and tucked firmly around her upper back. He's not taking her anywhere fancy enough to warrant it - or at least, that wasn't planned; he's pretty sure he can work something out somehow - but he'll certainly appreciate it nonetheless. ]
It looks good on you. [ Not you look good in it. Jaime's seen her frazzled in her PJs and it still sent a thrill through him. ] We don't get many opportunities to wear stuff like that, huh? Maybe we should more often.
[ And just like that, they're off, a familiar blue bubble encompassing them as they head to their destination. ]
WE ARE.... CONSERVATIONISTS OF ENERGY ??? THAT'S A THING RIGHT
[ She's flushing a little, but it's nice to hear. Ruka knows what she looks like, too sick and too thin and too small and too weird for the regular type of pretty. Even though that's true, Jaime means it when he says it, so that's enough.
The carry itself is as easy as ever, but there's a different feel to it now. The fabric of her dress mutes it some, thankfully, but that's still his arm against the backs of her legs, his chest pressed all against her side. It's probably better not to think too much about it right now, but it never quite leaves her thoughts. ]
Most of my nicer things are from Kanaya, but I still have a couple things from before. [ Before the world ended, she means; she may have only been sixteen back then, but it's not like she's gotten any taller. Everything still fits her, even if it doesn't exactly fit this world. ]
But we can, if you want to. You looked really good at New Year's. You had fun, right? I know we didn't exactly give you a choice about anything.
[ Which had been mostly Ruka's idea, and it definitely doesn't sound like she's apologizing for it... rude. ]
when u got lives like ours we HAVE to be
It's okay. If you gave me a choice, I wouldn't have showed up. [ His eyes slide back to her. ] And that's when I realized how bad I got it, so I'm gonna chalk that up as a win.
[ Anything that drove them closer together sooner other than grand catastrophe is going to be a good thing in his book. ]
It was great. I had a really good time. And, I mean, yeah, we can do it again! [ With another flap of his wings, they sail out of the city, over to fly above the ocean. It's telling how much faith she's got in him, that she lets him do things like this. He's pretty sure a lot of people would absolutely refuse this method of traveling and want to go on a plane like a normal couple. ]
I'm not gonna ruin the surprise or nothing, but just as a heads-up, where we're going, um... let's say it's not quite that fancy.
OKAY HONESTLY? FAIR. FAIR. let us rest.
[ He hadn't given her a lot of guidance on what to pack, either — just a temperature range, really — but Jaime doesn't seem the type to opt for a black-tie affair if he has a choice in the matter. Sure, she's in something nicer, prettier, but it's not because of where they're going. ]
But, I'm glad. About the party. I mean, I knew you would have turned it down if Kanaya asked you, or if I did; that's why I went through Khaji for everything. [ Did Khaji ever tell Jaime that he'd known a solid week in advance what Ruka was planning? Welp. ] It was kind of—
[ The conversation had felt easy, but Ruka's voice cuts off suddenly — her body goes tense in his arms, and her face pales. She had been staring off at nothing in particular, but she looks at Jaime now, aghast. ]
You've liked me since New Year's?!
[ what the HELL jaime. that's so long!!!!!!! ]
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Um, yes? Is that such a bad thing? [ He shakes his head, looking back out at the horizon beyond them. ]
You're making me feel better about my powers of subtlety with that kind of reaction.
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It's just— I mean, it's... such a long time. To hold onto something like that.
[ They've been together for three months, too, but putting those together and it feels even less real than before.
Seriously, Jaime. Her??? You liked her??? ]
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[ Okay, now he's starting to feel a little embarrassed. Not too embarrassed, because she wound up liking him back - once she was reminded that that was a possibility; Jaime will happily take it - but still! ]
I needed some time to figure it out.
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[ Mid-February, give or take. Around Valentine's day, when she'd so blithely messaged him about her kidnapping into that strange house, and how he'd so easily thrown himself into the same danger because of it. Around the anniversary of her arrival, and her returns, and the stable footing a year makes.
As though liking her was a choice he'd made, after measuring her actions and assessing the risks. As though she could only be liked by deliberation, by decision.
Were they anywhere else, Ruka would pivot and evade attention at this point, change rooms or topics, or any other way she could avoid close scrutiny, but squirming for discomfort now would only end up with her dropped neatly into the ocean. (It wouldn't kill her, and Jaime certainly wouldn't let her drown, but her dress would get wet, and who knew how long it would be before she could change into something else.) Instead, it's the opposite: tension means holding on tighter, and evasion means cleaving closer, hiding her face against his shoulder. ]
You always had a million other things going on, anyway. [ More important things. ] When would you have had time to be mooning over me, before that?
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[ Longer than even Jaime had known, really. He can't put a finger on when his feelings changed, just that it was far before he'd finally managed to yank his head out of his ass. It happened somewhere between him not wanting her to walk away - when she was the one who did, every time - hungry for her companionship and happiness and comfort and stability in ways that he didn't hope for it from others. It's not more. It's just different.
He should have figured it out before, really. He'd wanted to be close to her, all the time. And they had been close, unusually close for friends - and now, hugging her to his chest as they sail through the air, he got his wish. This probably isn't the best place to be having this conversation, but they are. They're trapped now! ]
It's not the sort of thing that you, like, choose to do or make time for or whatever. If it happens, it happens. [ And somehow, Jaime had found plenty of time for mooning. ] We spent a lot of time together even with a million other things going on anyway, didn't we?
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But that — that loathsome, burdensome uncertainty — plagues her heart for every person, for every time and circumstance. It only weighs more heavily with Jaime because of how much more important he's been to her. With how much she's wanted to help him, with how much she wanted him to find some way to heal from all his agonies, with how much she's done, or tried to do, to accomplish that — it's more effort than she's spent for pretty much anyone. She was never willing to examine why. It is a little too late to examine why.
It is, in more ways than one, too daunting to examine why. It is too frightening to examine why.
Instead, she presses a chaste kiss to the corner of his jaw. ]
Sorry if I'm being weird, [ she murmurs, still close to... where his ear WOULD be if he..... still had them......... god the beetle suit is fucked up about the dumbest things. ] I know I should be used to this by now, but I don't know how to, really. It's never felt like this before.
[ didn't you have a boyfriend before ruka. didn't you date that guy for two fucking years ruka. what the hell. ]
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[ Oh, boy. His heart's doing funny things. And that's either a very bad or a very good sign, considering they're on their way to spend a good few days with nobody but each other. He knows she really likes him - they wouldn't be doing all of this otherwise - but it's just couples stuff. He always figured she'd done it all before, even if the last guys are supposedly pretty awful. He looks straight out and over the ocean, a little caught up for it in a moment. He's always been a romantic sort, even if he's a romantic sort who'd been fighting it.
Things don't need to be different to be special. It's what he's always told himself, even with Traci, who'd been with plenty of people before him. But if it's different for her too... ]
It's, um. It's the same for me. I didn't even think I was ever gonna do anything like this - or even feel it, not for a while. Maybe not ever. [ It seemed better that way. He gives her arms a little squeeze. ]
I've never been happier to be wrong.
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... I feel like I'm me, when I'm with you. [ And maybe that's dumb, as far as confessions go. Shouldn't most people feel like themselves all the time, because they are themselves? But she hopes he'll understand what it means. ] I'm glad it's you.
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[ He regrets even starting to say something before he already did. They said they were going to move at their own place, but Jaime's pace is breakneck; his feelings have been too strong to contain this whole time, and there's no mistaking their intensity, or the fact that it seemed to happen at the exact right time. Like this was meant to happen. ]
It's just that people act like you gotta change, like, as a person when you get to be with someone else. But I feel like I'm more like me. You know me. [ Better than almost anyone else, he thinks. ]
But I've, um... I've only ever been with one other person before.
[ Girls really weren't interested in him. And even if they were, he hadn't been ready for it. He thinks. It's hard to tell, now. ]
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His little rebuke of other guys' priorities is something she only mentally rolls her eye at — they weren't missing much, she thinks, especially not with the way she was back then — but it's not worth countering with words. Not when he continues on with something more important. I'm more like me, he says, and you know me, and it feels like her heart trips three times before it manages to climb into her throat.
There's something so intimate about the sentiment. She spends so much time agonizing over the things she doesn't know, running into gaps she doesn't know how to bridge, learning little bits and pieces she isn't sure how to set them into a larger picture. She is afraid of those gaps — not of not knowing things, but not knowing the boundaries of what she doesn't know, not knowing what to ask, not knowing what she's missing, not knowing what she's ignoring.
But you know me — it sweeps sand into all those gaps in her knowledge, smooths out the rough edges of imperfect understanding. It's, you understand me. It's, you get what's important to me. It's, you see who I am. It's a leveling sentiment, meant only really to make things more plain, more clear, but Ruka herself is leveled by it, bowled over. ]
I... [ A hand laying flat against his back curls into a fist, as though to drag nails across his spine, as though to grab a fistful of shirt fabric, but unable to do either. Her throat still feels clogged up, and her voice is made quiet, dry. ] ... I don't know what to say.
[ She is probably not talking about the ex-girlfriend. ]
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It's funny. They know each other well. She knows him well, just like he said. But there are some things that he felt were too obvious to bother saying that seem to strike her deeply, as though she can see him straight to the core in some ways, but anything to do with her is just a swamp of uncertainty. It felt dumb to say it - and it still feels dumb; there's no easy way of talking about this stuff without sounding utterly pretentious - but maybe he should, if it's that surprising to her.
Of course she knows him. She gets who he is, not just what he seems to be, or what he tries to put out into the world, or who he tries to convince himself he is. She sees what's there. And then, after she saw it, she decided there was something worthwhile enough to stick around. He look down at her, heart made tender that something so small could mean that much to her. ]
That you're happy that you're here? Because I am. [ No better person to go away with, right? Just the two of them, to be who they want to be halfway across the globe, the water whizzing by beneath them as they travel at a quick pace - a pace that he intends on making quicker, once he gets the jets into play. He leans down, eyes crinkling around the corners of even his suit, and gives her a kiss on the cheek. ]
It's just the truth.
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[ It's much too late to blame the speed of flight for the heady dizziness that strikes her; too late to blame the blur of the ocean beneath them for vertigo. It's all, it's just Jaime, all what he says and how he feels and the way sincerity just suffuses everything he does. It leaves her feeling too warm all over, cheeks red for something like embarrassment even before he kisses her.
She doesn't know how to get used to this. Simple little statements shouldn't overwhelm her this badly every time, should they? She should be able to take them with an easy reciprocation, or a thank you, or a little bubble of satisfaction, but instead she shuts down into this discombobulated mess. It would be just her luck if he kept going on like this, and her poor beleaguered heart just went into arrest rather than keep this pace. It's still hard to speak. ]
I don't care about here, [ she manages, though it's hard to form the sounds properly when she can't stop smiling, ] I'm happy that I'm with you.
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That's what I meant.
[ Eventually even conversation between the two of them will lull, at least long enough so that Jaime can focus on their destination. Khaji even joins in for a little while, texting Ruka irately about someone online he'd gotten in some argument with the other day, groaning about inconsistencies in some system, chattering about holes he'd found in some games he'd been checking out until he too falls silent. Ruka will be able to tell where they're headed before they get to. It was probably easy to guess the whole time: they're going to Japan.
But Tokyo comes and goes. They sweep right over its tall spires and its ever-present glow to somewhere smaller, quieter. The place they land doesn't look noteworthy at all. The lights are infrequent and dim, populated more by small houses than it is by any buildings of particular note, an ocean of green bracketed by quiet rivers and mountains greeting them. Jaime lands in front of one of the houses. It's quaint and traditional, but otherwise completely and utterly ordinary, old enough that there's some visible wear and tear on it. ]
It's, um... I didn't plan anything fancy, really. If you wanna head to the big city instead, we can do that, easy.
[ When Ruka steps inside, she'll see that the inside is just as quaint as the outside. Despite him flying her halfway across the globe for this, the vista waiting for her looks a whole lot more like what any boyfriend would get for their girlfriend, or at least what their best efforts would be. There's a banner stuck from wall to wall with putty - HAPPY BIRTHDAY RUKA - a bottle of something bubbly shoved in a canister filled with what must be melted ice, a bouquet of flowers, a cake, and a bag that must be for whatever it is that he got her. It's something that he could have done for her at home. There was no need to come here.
He trails in after her. ]
But it's quiet here. And peaceful. And there's not a whole lot of people. The guy I rented this place from said that there's even a lot of cats that come by - he left us some treats, if we wanna feed them, and places to go walking, and places to eat. And there's supposed to be fireworks soon. And... I thought maybe you'd like some time away.
[ Away from so many people and prying eyes. No crises, nobody's emotions to have to attend to but her own, no flurry of everything like there is in cities. Just the two of them and the people making their quiet life out here, with nothing they have to do and nobody that needs their distraction. When he stopped to think about where he wanted to take her, he knew he wanted to take her somewhere familiar. As though they had met like normal people do, back in her home world, and they'd taken the train for a weekend away. Even now, they're surrounded by silence, save for the wind rustling through the trees, the quiet sounds of nature outside, their ginger footsteps against the mats lining the floor.
Maybe he should have done something truly spectacular. Taken her out for some eight course dinner and treated her to a swanky room in a fantastic hotel, where they could cheers on the rooftop and go dancing and try shopping in all of the best boutiques an check out the nightlife. But instead they're here. Just the two of them. ]
...happy birthday, Ruka.
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But they speed on, conversation ebbing; as ever, using the mental link to the Network is a little disconcerting, but it's easy to fall back into the rhythm of it with Khaji. (It's not the same as when he was with her, those few short minutes on the Moon Base; text isn't the same as the sound of his voice in her thoughts, or the pressure of his presence in her body. It's nothing close to the same.) But even for as familiar and easy as it is to trade complaints and jokes, all those conversations ease, and fall back, and without intending it, Ruka eventually falls asleep. It's always easier with him.
It's a short sleep, dreamless and barely restful, and it's hard to tell at first that time has passed at all — they're still flying, and flying towards the setting sun only seems to stretch time out, make it seem longer. The international date line means nothing to the burning of the sun. But endless ocean below and beyond them is broken now, ships and land and coast and bay and the sharp jag of metropolis. It's this that wakes her up properly — not the blur of emotion beneath them, indistinct and hazy like running through fog, but the sight of the city itself.
Ruka has been to two different Earths since leaving home, but in neither of them has she gone to Japan before now. In those, and in her own, she has never been to Tokyo. Her Japan is different. Maybe not in any way other people can really understand, but she sees it whenever she sees maps of it, sees the swath of blue water where an island should be, farmland and fishing villages where should be a glittering jewel of a city. It wasn't the capitol in the official sense, but it was the most important city in the world. More than that, Ruka had never seen anything of that country outside of Neo Domino, outside of Satellite. She never went to Tokyo to shop, to experience the culture; she never traveled into the country, to the mountains or the forests or anywhere else.
But before she can fully catastrophize — Jaime isn't really bringing her, the empath, to one of the most highly populated cities on the planet, right? Right? — they just continue on and blow right past even the farthest sprawl of the city boundaries. Ruka doesn't say anything aloud, but maybe Jaime felt it: the anxious way her arms tightened around his shoulders, and the slow bleed of tension as she relaxed.
They continue on. Black and gray trade for brown and green. They touch down while Ruka is looking this way and that, taking in the view of the old, small village; when Jaime finally sets Ruka down, she clings to his arms for a moment for stability, legs stiff and half-asleep from their long stillness. This is... after the scare of seeing Tokyo, this is not at all what she expected. With slow, not-quite-steady steps, Ruka leads the way into the house. She hears Jaime talking behind her, trailing back like a shadow, but her attention is flitting between so many other smaller things. The patches of moss on the pathway; the load-bearing pillars just before the entryway; the calls of unfamiliar birds in the trees; the song of cicadas, something she's never heard outside of movies. She enters the house. ]
Oh—
[ A startled, thoughtless sound, muffled immediately as Ruka's hands cover her mouth. Her breath catches, and her steps toward the table, the tacked-up banner. Her breath is uneven, and her steps slow, weaving. The decoration shouldn't seem like much: a quaint little cake, a bouquet of flowers, all the rest. It's nothing fancy, but it feels extravagant. The flight over took so long; how many trips had he made to pick this place, and get it set up? How long ago did he decide to do this, how did he justify how much effort this would be, how much time, how—
—and Jaime's still talking, nervous, as though he still needs to talk up what he's done, to puff it up to her satisfaction, when she's struggling against being overwhelmed. It is a losing struggle. ]
Oh, Jaime, you... I don't— I, nobody's ever— [ Her vision blurs. ] —all this for me?
[ A romantic getaway is a lot, but it had always been the agenda. A cake, some presents, her name on the wall — simple things like that shouldn't hit as hard as this, but explanation is harder. Nobody's ever done this for me. Who would? Not the parents she can't remember, absent from her life for so long before she left that world that she can't even remember their faces, remember their names. Going to the old world, who could? There were so many people she loved, but time with them was always so short — who had any to spare on extravagances like this? So many disasters, so much crisis, so much loss. And of course, the people who loved her, too, some were there when she was hurt, helped as they could to piece enough of her back together to keep on going, but this isn't a way to save her life. This isn't a bribe for her attention. This isn't obligation. This isn't a peace offering. This isn't bandage atop bandage atop wounds still hurting. This is, this is only, it's her birthday, and he wanted to give her something nice. That's all.
Ruka turns back towards Jaime; she hasn't even been out of his arms for five minutes and she's already drawn right back to him. Her hands tremble against his cheeks, and she shouldn't have bothered with makeup at all because she's just going to cry it all off. Is this too pathetic? Is this too needy? It must be, but she kisses him all the same, given too much and still left greedy. A girl's allowed to be greedy on her birthday, isn't she?
(Of course, since they've crossed the date line, it isn't her birthday anymore, but it's close enough to count, right?) ]
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All of the trappings of what he's put together aren't so special. This is the sort of thing that his Dad would set up for his Mom on her birthday after a long shift. She'd shrug off her coat and toe off her shoes, massaging at her sore feet as she hopped forward on one foot to step into where Jaime's Dad, Jaime, and Milagro would be waiting, a pleased if not beleagured smile on her face. He's grown up around this, all his life. It's something he'd gotten before in return, only without the flowers. It's not special. It's ordinary. But Jaime's always liked ordinary, and anything else he could think up just seemed too artificial. This is him, store-bought cake and dollar-store banner and all. This is the type of life he wants to lead. Honestly, he expects her to laugh. Not at him, but that laughter you get when you're pleased but unsurprised, a sound of contentment more than anything else.
And then she turns around and acts like he'd given her the world on a silver platter. He stumbles a little as she turns back to him, legs stiff and feet fuzzy after so long spent at a high speed - longer than it usually takes; it's a trip that generally takes him moments, but he didn't dare move that quickly with Ruka in tow, even with the forcefield around them - taken completely off-guard by her reaction. All this, for some flowers? Some cake? A banner he'd picked up from the store? The trip over was the special part, not all this. But despite his pleased confusion, his hands find their place on the small of her back as he kisses her back, never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. ]
I mean -- yeah, of course! [ He says, brow a little creased, mouth curled up at the corners. ] Of course it is. You deserve a nice birthday.
[ And that's exactly what she deserves. Not everything has to be the highest of highs, the lowest of lows. Sometimes things can just be nice. Reliable. A glimpse into the world as it should be - or, rather, Ruka's glimpse into the world as it should be as Jaime sees it. ]
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It feels, as ever, that she doesn't. It feels like if he knew her better, knew more about the things she's done, the things she's allowed, then maybe — maybe he wouldn't change his mind, not now, not the way they are now, but maybe he'd have to think about it. She doesn't want him to; she's selfish, she knows, but she doesn't want to let go of this. She wants to keep this for as long as she can, as much as she can get away with. He isn't helping, not with how he holds her, or with the fond way he smiles at her, or with the soft darkness in his eyes.
It's so strange. A year ago, they were barely able to call themselves friends. And before that, it should have been nothing for the distance between them, but that wasn't true. Her graveyard is full, after all, and the Jaime of this world has his own ghost. Of course she kept her distance; she wanted to protect him. She wanted to do right. She wanted him to be okay, and to be happy, and to be himself. He didn't know her then, and if he'd ever looked at her twice, it was only for surprise, but he was always important to her. He was always, always going to mean something to her, no matter how much or how little he resembled his ghost.
He was always going to matter this much to her. No matter what he did, or how he felt, no matter if he never learned her name; her heart has always been too stupid to discard anything. She was always going to love him, somehow, but it's strange that it took this shape. Strange, that after everything she's said, and done, and left unsaid, and left undone, that he would ever look at her like this in return.
Her nose bumps against his; she can't pull away. She leaves it unsaid. ]
I love it. [ It's the most she can manage. It's the closest she can get right now. ] Thank you.
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The cats, though - the bit about the cats is what he thinks she'll like. He's pretty sure they don't like him anyway. ]
You're welcome. And hey, this is just the start! We've got lots of time to do... whatever we want, really.
[ When's the last time she had that? When's the last time he had that? A vacation, a proper one, with nobody to answer to but each other. Even if they just wind up sleeping all day and flying to get some decent food, it will be worth it.
He's pretty sure they'll do more than sleep. His hands slide down her arms to grasp at her wrists, tangling their fingers together, not quite moving away. ]
So? You ready to get this weekend started?
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