A/N: Guess what the title is a reference to.
Layers: Amethyst/Vidalia:
Amethyst doesn't realize how long she's been grinning until Vidalia returns with a full cup of tea, settles back into her space beside her, takes three whole sips, and asks her, "What, do you want this teabag too?" with an eyebrow arched in amusement.
"Huh?" Is the purple gem's initial response, until she becomes aware of the stiffness of her face, and the soreness in her cheeks. "No, I just . . ." She blushes, sinking further into the couch cushions as she averts her gaze, twirling a lock of her hair around one finger. "You know, I was just kidding around, but you really are the same, and I'm . . . glad . . . y'know?"
It's always hard to say things like this, bare her metaphorical heart for mushy stuff like this, but strangely, with Vidalia, sentimental crap like this always needs to be said, and it's always somehow . . . easier.
Something in Vidalia's expression changes at her words, changes to something soft, and kind, and fond, and that makes Amethyst rather flustered, unprepared. She hasn't seen this kind of emotion made only for her in years.
"I mean you," Amethyst fidgets, yet makes herself laugh all the same, "you still look hella different, but yeah."
Her friend smiles back at her, however it's still unbearably soft, like it always is at some random moment when they're having a particularly grand time, and quickly, Amethyst takes in every wrinkle and sag of Vidalia's face, remembering how yesterday, it was so smooth and firm and pretty.
That wasn't yesterday.
"Don't you dare say old . . ."
"I'm not," the Crystal Gem assures quickly even though she kinda is, but then she sighs, biting her lower lip. "But even so, doesn't it feel like just a few days ago that we joyrode that police car, or vandalized that dollar store?"
There's a crease by Vidalia's mouth with her next smile, the sort that only accompanies age. "You're calling me old, Amethyst."
Well . . . it's true that every time Amethyst has blinked since their reuniting, she sees their years of endless fun, endless bonding, endless years of pleasure, yet whenever her eyes reopen, all that's left is the exact same Vidalia, only with her two human children, fisherman husband, and aged, fragile-looking human body.
Amethyst has been around for centuries, but she feels like she's missed out on so much.
"Okay, I am!" She finally huffs, throwing her arms into the air in frustration. "Which isn't like, bad or anything." For a moment, she allows herself to smirk, watching her friend's mixed expression. "I mean, I've got centuries on you, so don't take it to heart, or nothing."
Vidalia takes a slow sip from her cup. When she speaks next, her voice is warm, and gently prodding, and Amethyst muses that it never used to be exactly like that, figures it's come with her maturity. "Where are you getting at, Amethyst?"
Her gaze is patient, but sharp, and for a moment, it reminds her of Garnet, but this is Vidalia. This is Vidalia who supposedly hasn't changed.
Yet, Amethyst blinks, and there's another crease by her friend's eyebrow. Blinks again, and there's some under her eyes. Blinks a third time and notices the gray hairs mixed with blonde.
The purple gem swallows thickly. "I guess what I'm saying is . . . " She lowers her eyes, fiddling with the ends of her hair. She doesn't really know how to bring it up. She supposes she could be brash and tactless, as per usual- Vidalia wouldn't mind, Vidalia is brash and tactless too, right?- but the buttered noodles are knotting in her stomach too much for her to go through with it. Instead, she opts to mumble, "You won't live as long me."
And once that's out, it's like, like the start of a waterfall as she runs her hands frantically through her mane, "I'm sitting here, and I'm lookinit you, and you look Vidalia, and you talk like Vidalia, and you act like Vidalia sorta, but, like, you're wearing slippers and you've got kids, except," the hand in her hair pulls and tears, "I'm still here as dumb, old irresponsible me! And like, I missed so much of your life, and maybe if I was there . . . I could have learned to finally grow up, be mature . . ." Amethyst pauses, heaves a sigh, "like you."
When she's finished, she glances over at Vidalia, hiding behind her hair. Her friend is watching her with an odd sort of expression before she bursts into raucous laughter, the familiar you're so stupid, but I don't really mean it/love you anyway typethat Vidalia always used to frequent.
Although familiar, it causes Amethyst to jump, then scowl in irritation, because this is kind of why she hates exposing her heart like this- people never take her seriously.
"V, c'mon," she mutters uncharacteristically meek, "I mean I know I sound stupid, but I couldn't have been that much stupider than usual . . ."
"Oh, you were," Vidalia snickers, but her arm reaches over and around, and pulls Amethyst into her side. This warmth is just as familiar.
And as the Crystal Gem fights a plum-colored blush, the blonde admits to her, "Talking to you here, I was actually surprised with how mature you've become, Amethyst."
Amethyst, on the other hand, doesn't feel as though her name and maturity should be in the same sentence.
She squints critically up at her friend from her embrace, "Uh, really."
But Vidalia merely smiles, and ruffles Amethyst's bleached hair, and replies, "I said it, didn't I?" When the purple gem blinks, her hand raises to brush the pale waves from over Amethyst's eye. "From what I've heard about the situation you're in, about Pearl and Garnet, I think you've handled it very maturely thus far, very unlike the Amethyst I used to know."
"That's not true . . . All I did was snitch on Pearl . . ."
Her shoulder is squeezed. "But that wasn't for the thrill of knocking her down a few pegs. You did it to save her from herself, didn't you?"
Amethyst can't argue with that. Not really. It's true, anyway. She didn't want to hurt Pearl by telling Garnet, only stop her before she began to regret it.
But, like, her maturity isn't even the real issue anyway.
"I just felt like it was a waste," she exhales next. "Being away from you. I don't know what I was thinking." She expects another laugh at her heartfelt confession, but Vidalia only hugs her tighter. Amethyst wonders how she could have survived so long without hugs like these.
"And- and I especially . . . didn't want it to be like how we all thought Rose and Greg would be- a relationship to only last a few decades . . ." She shrugs helplessly, bitterly, jealously and finally- finally, it's all out in the open, "Now, next time I blink, you might be gone."
"That's morbid," Vidalia sort of chuckle-sighs, "but yeah. I didn't know how badly I would miss you until you were gone either."
Amethyst starts, and looks up. "You . . . missed me?"
"Of course I missed you, stupid." There's a faraway look in her eye, and suddenly Amethyst is guiltily remembering the nights sleeping in Vidalia's bed, legs entangled with hers, arms about her waist, kisses in the dark . . . But then, she's never really forgotten. "I missed you terribly." And then, abruptly, the blonde says, "But at least I got to see you again," and the tender expression is gone.
"Yeah," Amethyst agrees quietly, yet she ponders over when the next time they meet will be if time moves so quickly to her, if twenty-five years was naught but a day ago. "Well, let's hope we get to hang out again before another, like, fifty years."
"I am not that old, you ass," Vidalia grumbles with a shove to Amethyst's shoulders. "But of course we will. Anytime you want."
"Thanks," Amethyst says softly, chewing the inside of her cheek, because although she knows Vidalia to be mostly the same, it's not like their relationship ever will be. Not anymore.
A/N: I didn't want to make it gay . . . but I did.