I did this for an obscure ship challenge. The ship is Ralph and Maybee (Yesss's well-dressed assistant from the second film). Enjoy.
Maybe, Just Maybe
Maybe it was the accent. British accents in general were nice to listen to, weren't they? And his refined manners that made Ralph feel like a slob. At Tappers, he lifted his pinkie as he raised his root beer to his lips to take dainty sips. Ralph tried to do the same but felt ridiculous. The wrecker, to everyone's shock, actually said "Excuse me" and blushed in embarrassment when a rather thunderous belch escaped accidentally. He said nothing. That would have been ungentlemanly. He just quietly dabbed at his mouth with a napkin.
Maybe it was the way he whistled as he meticulously ironed the creases out of his shirts and vests every morning, the way he folded his clothes and linens just so. He carefully hand-washed everything too. "I believe in taking good care of one's possessions," was his explanation. Ralph liked to watch him. It was almost hypnotic, the way he did laundry. Ralph's standard method was to just shove things into a machine, toss in some detergent, and hope for the best.
Maybe it was the way he reached up to adjust Ralph's tie, which the wrecker had thrown on and tied so sloppily. "Here, like this." His fingers were quick and skilled. Bold, too, as they moved down to smooth out the wrinkles in Ralph's dress shirt, and redo a button that had popped out. "There, much better. Are you quite alright? You look…flushed."
Maybe it was the doting smile he bestowed on Rancis when the kid poked his head through the window, uncharacteristically timid as he requested help picking out an outfit for his Mom and Dad's party that night. The boy racer had developed something of a crush on the visiting Netizen. Or perhaps he was just thrilled to have met another male who preened as much as he did.
Maybe it was the way he shined at the book club meeting, showing off his eloquent manner of speaking, his rich vocabulary, his ability to debate a point without starting what he called "discourse" which, as he explained to Ralph later, was a rather distasteful blood sport among BuzzzTubers that he intensely abhorred. When, after the meeting was over, Zangief asked him if he'd like to come over sometime for Borscht, a traditional Russian soup, Ralph felt a rush of panic. There probably would have been some discourse that night if the invitee's answer had been "Yes" instead of "Maybe."
Maybe, just maybe, it was the way he chuckled lightly at Ralph's childish jealousy. "Listen, I'll make you a deal. If you can bake me a pie without setting it ablaze, I'll decline Zangief's invitation." Ralph had never worked so hard to make a pie in his life, and, miraculously, it came out golden brown, and edible to boot. Thank goodness.
Most definitely it was when he stood on his tip-toes to kiss Ralph's nose after their dinner was over that night, and every crumb of that perfect pie was gone. "You're fun to tease, love."
The End