Zhu Li scanned the living room for any sign of Varrick's antics. Narrowing her eyes, she headed towards the door.
"Varrick! I'm going shopping! Try not to blow anything up while I'm gone!"
The ex-assistant thought about it.
"And try to actually do something for yourself for once!"
A friendly black haired head popped out into the hallway. "Don't worry, Zhu Li!" Bolin gave her a thumbs up. "I'll make sure Varrick doesn't get into any trouble."
"Trouble?!" A voice shouted from the back room. "Who says I was going to start any trouble?" Another head full of gelled back hair popped out. "Oh, Zhu Li, have you no faith in this brilliant mind of mine!? How can I ever go on? Will we ever do the thing that we do after the other thing that we're doing for the rest of our-"
He was interrupted by the slam of the front door. The two males looked at each other and gave mischievous grins. Varrick dashed down the hall and to the window.
It was not until the sound of a car driving down the street was heard that the pair fist pumped in joy.
"Yes!"
With a smile from ear to ear, the so-called genius of Republic City exclaimed, "Bolin! Do the thing!"
"Alright! The thing! ... What's the thing again?"
A smack of Varrick's hand connecting with his forehead echoed throughout the room.
"The thing, Bolin, the thing!" A blank stare followed. "Ah, forget it. Quickly; this way!"
The newly wed strode with a blinding aura of confidence to the back room of the house. Dramatically wiggling his fingers in the air as if preparing for something great, Varrick swung open the closet door. Bolin's face lit up.
"OHHH! The thing!"
"This, Bolin," Varrick declared triumphantly, "is what we do when Zhu Li isn't home."
Zhu Li drummed her fingers nervously on the steering wheel of the SUV. Varrick, alone, with Bolin, in their house, without her supervision was... Well, it was a big step from how it was before. Her husband had been incapable and relied on her for everything. Like, everything. It was almost as bad as that Wu kid and Mako.
She shook her head free of those thoughts. 'Those were in the past. Varrick's better now; he'd even gathered up the guts to propose. Properly. Hm. Anyway, what am I getting again? Shoot, the list!'
Zhu Li had spent so much time worrying over her extremely dependent husband, she had forgotten the shopping list on her way out. With an exasperated - yet at the same time relieved - sigh, the concerned woman took the next U turn and drove back to the house.
As she approached the front door, Zhu Li thought she heard banging coming from inside the house. She also heard some sort of... Tune..? She furrowed her eyebrows and quickly entered the house.
Some kind of racket could be heard, none that's Zhu Li's ever heard before. She traced the sound to the kitchen where she finds Varrick, holding a trombone of all things, and Bolin. They both had shades on and Bolin was standing near the oven gripping the handle.
"One! Two! A-one! Two! Three! Four!"
Varrick blew with all his might into the slightly dented trombone he found in their closet. There was a viral video going around, and if the greatest mind in all of Republic City couldn't top it, no one could.
He started the first verse of the repeating tune. Then Bolin came in with the slamming of the oven door. It was orchestral! It was magnificent! It was-
"Varrick...?" The sound of his wife's voice cut through the noise and nearly made him jump ten feet into the air.
"Zhu- Zhu Li?!" The temporary musician tried, but failed miserably to regain his composure, sunglasses falling to the floor in a clatter. He laughed nervously, "You're back early."
Bolin glanced between the two of them, unsure of what to do. Caught in mid-slam, he slowly closed the oven door.
The look on Zhu Li's face as she processed the situation was unreadable. Finally, she walked over to the fridge, plucked the shopping list from it's place, and said, "I don't even wanna know."
As the love of his life left the house for the second time that afternoon, Varrick let out a breath of relief and he stared at the younger fellow by the oven.
"Well. It could've been worse," the mercantilist beamed and repositioned the trombone. "Hit it, Nuktuk!"