At the airport:
"Raven, your hair is red!" exclaimed Charles the moment he saw her.
"Yes," she smiled,(with a hint of storm clouds on her horizon should he disapprove), patting the ends of her hair, "I decided to go natural for a while and see how I liked it." More than just her hair color had changed, if Erik was any judge. She stood taller and straighter, and when she spoke it was with more assurance.
Charles, it seemed, was learning. "Well, if a brother's opinion counts, I, for one, like it. It suits you."
"Thank you, Charles." Raven preened a little, basking in the approval.
"It is definitely a step in the right direction," Erik added, "Nature never makes mistakes with her palette. From what Joon-Yi's told me, you and she have had hardly a dull moment all week."
"That's right, when I spoke to you on Tuesday, you said you were finding ways to keep yourselves occupied." Charles looked around. "Didn't she come along to meet us?"
"Yes, she did, but she went to powder her nose," Raven told him. "She was sure you'd show up the moment she did, and she was right. We've been so busy we hardly missed you at all, actually. For example, since we got our first stipend checks yesterday, I went and opened up a bank account. Um, what else—we've been using the facility pool every day, and I've taken some music lessons in town."
"Then you've been using your time very well," Charles told her. "I really should have set you up with an account of your own years ago. But music lessons, even! You know I've always thought you should try new things and even take enrichment courses. What are you studying, and how do you like it so far?"
"I've been taking singing lessons, and so far I like it a lot, but most of the lessons are just doing vocal exercises and learning how to breathe correctly. You'd think that breathing would be the easiest, most natural thing in the world, but you wouldn't believe how complicated it is."
"I'm delighted to hear that," he said, kissing the top of her head. "Since you've only just started, I imagine it will be a while before you're ready for a recital or a concert, but when you are, I'll be there in the front row."
"I'm going to hold you to that, you know," she told him severely. "After being there for all your graduations, that's the least you can do for me!"
"I wouldn't miss it for the world," he said.
"Anyway, where are these recruits? Last I heard you had a, ahem, go-go dancer, a cab driver, a convict and one regular kid." Raven looked around.
"They're collecting their luggage, which is what I ought to be doing—Oh, Joon-Yi. There you are, and you look smashing, I must say. Like you just stepped down out of a travel poster for Shanghai."
Erik turned. Charles was right; she was the very picture of a classic Asian beauty. Even the humans swarming the airport were noticing and doing double takes at the sight of her. She was dressed in crimson and black again, the same colors she had worn to see them off, but where that outfit had been sporty and causal, this one was elegant and sophisticated. She wore a fitted jacket and knee length skirt in red silk satin, embroidered here and there with small black butterflies, pearls at her throat and even a little open-mesh veil attached to her hair with a flowered comb and angled over her eyes, neither of which was covered with a patch.
"My, what big eyes you have," he remarked. "And no longer bruised and swollen either, I am happy to see." He had not realized how grim his mood was until he saw her and felt the weight of it ease. Just the sight of her made him want to smile.
"All the better to see you with," she replied cheerfully. "Speaking of which, you look very sharp. I haven't seen you in a suit and tie before."
"Thank you," he touched the knot of his tie.
"Come on, Charles. Let's go get your luggage and find your recruits," Raven tugged at her brother's arm. "You two should stay here so we can find you again." The glance she shot at them while she walked away was mischievous and conspiratorial.
"You've told her about us," Erik remarked as they strolled over to a seating area by the windows.
"I was required to by the ancient and sacred Girl Code of female friendship," she said, taking a seat. "Think of it as the Geneva Convention written in lipstick and signed with eyeliner. However, I didn't share anything you would object to her knowing. Unbend a little and sit down with me? Unless you have to go collect your own bags, of course."
She gestured to the spot on the sofa next to her. "It would be my pleasure," he said. "I have no luggage other than a carry one; I've learned to travel light…You really are the epitome of Asian beauty today, by the way."
"Thank you," she smiled. "I don't often go out of my way to dress Asian, but it fit so well and the color and symbolism was too perfect. Red is for joy and butterflies stand for love and the soul. I don't know of a culture on earth that doesn't equate butterflies with the soul. It seems to be a universal concept."
"It looks as though it were made for you," he said, reaching into his carry-on. "And speaking of things that were made for you, I did not forget."
She sat up straighter, looking at the bag he put on the sofa between them. "My tea," she exclaimed with pleasure, taking the package. "This is rather weighty for just a few tins of tea, though."
"An impulse purchase," he waved dismissively. "Nothing much, although it is somewhat heavy."
"Ohhh—," she went through the bag, "All my favorites, and a few more—Earl Grey, I should have put that on the list—and strawberry tea. Here's the heavy culprit." She found the box at the bottom and opened it while he watched her face light up.
"It's beautiful," she said. The tea shop had a selection of cast iron teapots, both functional and decorative at once. He'd chosen one which made him think of her, with a design of windblown grasses and a praying mantis as the knob on the lid. "Thank you, Erik. It's exactly what I need and would have chosen. I've been making do with mugs. Thank you."
"I'm glad you like it," he said.
"I do! I—Erik, I have something I have to say, something I've been thinking about, this past week. This isn't going to be easy for me to say and I only hope you'll hear me out in one go, because I don't know if I could get going again.
"I know…you're committed to stopping Schmidt because you don't want to starve slowly due to environmental destruction any more than anyone else—and that's all." She looked down at the pot; he could almost see her invisible 'hand' trace the design.
"It's a start," she said cryptically. Then, seemingly apropos of nothing, "I have no idea what kind of mother I might make. The whole 'nature vs. nurture' question is rather problematic for me. If nurture trumps nature, then I think I'll do all right. I could hardly have had a better example than the parents who chose me and went half way around the globe to bring me home. But if nature wins out—I don't know a thing about my genetic mother and father.
"Perhaps leaving me in the care of others was in its way an act of love. My parents, the real ones, the ones who adopted me, did so without any guarantees that I would grow up into a self-sufficient adult. I could have been brain-damaged or mentally retarded or—even a mutant. They were prepared to love me anyway. They did love me anyway, and you know what? If I could tell them, right now, 'Mom, Dad, I'm a mutant'. I think their reaction would be something like, 'Hon, we love you and this is not that huge a surprise.'"
Joon-Yi paused. "The point of all this is, I love you. I have been very angry about that. Utterly furious in fact. Yesterday I went out and chucked rocks at other rocks for the better part of an hour because I wanted to hit something, I was so angry. All the options I had, all the thousands of things I could do, have dwindled down to just two, and that's either being with you or not being with you. So.
"All those things I said the other day? I was only half joking. I want to clarify matters. I won't promise to obey you, but I promise to respect you. I won't always agree with you, but I will always hear you out, and if I object strongly I'll do it in private. I will never tear into you in front of people like I did Schmidt, no matter how bad I think an idea or plan might be. I won't follow blindly, but I'll be right there to navigate, and maybe we'll wind up at a different destination than the one you would have if you were alone.
"Ideally I'd like to wait a couple of years before starting a family. I'm already on the Pill because of my periods, anyhow. Oh, and I realize that living on a waterfront might not be realistic. It would just be nice, that's all. That's..." she paused. "That's all I've got. I can't be other than I am, not for you or anyone. If you can accept that and accept me...then I will marry you."
There was only one answer to make to that statement, slightly confused and rambling as it was, and he leaned over. Kissing her was easier sitting down, but in public like this, one couldn't put all into it that one would like. "Do you want a white dress and all the trappings?" he asked when they paused for air.
"Emma Frostbite has put me off the all-white look forever and I think all the trappings are for people with more family and friends than either of us has. A few words in front of a Justice of the Peace are fine with me, with Raven and Charles there as our witnesses." Joon-Yi smiled, and her impish side came to the fore. "Luckily bright red is perfectly traditional for brides of Asian heritage."
"Yah, it is." a voice came from above and behind them. "So where's your fuckin' war?" It was the man from the bar. He smelled no better than he had then, but he had a beaten-up canvas bag over one shoulder and a truculent expression on his face.
Erik replied, "Everywhere," as Joon-Yi said, "Cuba."
"Ya wanna minute to make up your minds?" he asked, chewing a cigar from one side of his mouth to the other.
A/N: Happy Thanksgiving to all my American readers, and hello to everybody else out there! Yes, that is Logan interrupting, and the consequences will be interesting. I put links to Joon-Yi's outfit on my profile page. There is a storefront on Etsy called Timeless Vixen Vintage (and I swear the seller must have a time machine in her back room, because her stuff is museum quality) which I sometimes consult for wardrobe details. That's where I saw the suit, although those are not Joon-Yi's measurements and she isn't wearing the matching coat because she thinks the cut is dowdy.