Ruby Rogers was an aunt first and foremost, then a mercenary, then a waitress (but not during the offseason). Sometimes she played bodyguard, but only for high profile clients who actually told her what-the-fuck-is-actually-going-on-Smolder(?). She had been hired by Doctor-why-the-hell-not-Bravestone as a mercenary. A hired gun, martial artist, and unofficial mother-hen of all team members.
That was just how life worked.
She had never agreed to a position of wingman-of-gay-jungle-men, but sometimes life works in weird-ass ways. This wouldn't be too weird, right?
"Right." She considered scratching the back of her neck, but Ruby decided last minute that it would just display her discomfort more prominently. "So."
Seaplane stared up at her from his seat on a random log like she knew all the secrets in the universe. Ruby wasn't good at this kind of thing.
"Sheldon." He prompted her. Ruby wanted to cough awkwardly. Her eye twitched slightly instead.
"The Professor." Ruby tried to smile slightly. It came off as more of a strangled grimace. "Right."
This was going nowhere.
"So." Seaplane looked her straight in the eye even as he coughed nervously and scratched the base of his neck. Ruby felt her stomach drop for just a second.
Sometimes, this kid acted way too much like her brother used to. And how she wanted to.
"What do I do?" He asked, plain and simple.
Ruby blinked. This was a little different than the whole girl next door drama she had been roped into with Joshua.
"Talk to him?"
Seaplane rolled his eyes.
"What do I say?"
A lesser woman would have flinched.
Ruby thought about her answer for a moment. This was the thirties. Besides, how different was the advice she gave here from the advice she had given to her own brother when it came to approaching someone you liked? Ruby decided to pretend she was telling Josh how to deal with Macy or Peg or Carla. There was no real difference was there? Right. This was exactly the same.
"You have to be you. You know. The whole 'be-yourself' schpiel."
"You are kidding, right?"
"You can't plan too much."
"You sound like my mother."
"But you can't just wing it."
"I'm not even kidding."
"That would be suicide..."
"You're just a tad higher pitched."
"..."
"Plus you're a leedle-bit better about word vomit."
"...Thank you? I think?"
"You don't really deal with people much, do you?" Ruby decided then and there that it was going to be a very long day.
Internalized homophobia, a history of asshole boyfriends, and her social ineptitude combined to make her possibly the absolute worst person to deal with this situation. But it's the thirties! It's the modern age! Besides, they're in-a-jungle-in-the-middle-of-fucking-nowhere. Societal norms have no place! Right?
Goddamn, it was going to be a very, extremely, unreasonably long day.