Note: Takes place on the evening of "Beach City Drift"; and the day after "Too Short to Ride".
"—which is why we'll keep an eye on the supermarket in the upcoming weeks."
"By loitering?"
"Stakeout. How many times must I tell you this?"
"Then loitering with purpose."
"You just contradicted yourself! Have you been practicing logical ploys behind my back?"
"...Sure."
The deep red moped and sliver scooter halted side by side, their occupants dismounting just as they wrapped up this interesting conversation.
Ronaldo regarded the lot everyone stood in and the surrounding mountains along which it and the roads ran with nothing short of a charmed smile. He loved coming to the underground racing circuit (even though nothing about this place screamed subterranean).
Kurtis inhaled the cool crisp summer air, usual stoicism peeled away by calm. He scanned the sparse crowd, eyes narrowing when they never found their objective. Right on cue with his thoughts, a thick arm then peeked from behind to shove a cell in his face.
"Just got Jane's text. Looks like her mom needed her help with something," Ronaldo retracted the phone into his pocket as he explained. Then he began to roll his shoulders as though in preparation for something strenuous. "She's gonna be a little late getting here."
The Latino/Native American nodded before letting his eyes drift over the nighttime view that encompassed Beach City and the surrounding land, forests, and sea, the distant waters glimmering white in the moonlight. He wasn't sure how long he stood there, drinking in the beauty, before the firm warmth of Ronaldo's hand on his shoulder disrupted his reverie.
When he faced him, however, the bashful look on the other boy's face surprised him.
"Would it be okay if you spotted me while I practice?" At his friend's perked eyebrow, Ronnie took his hand off to rub the back of his neck. "I want to make sure I've got something to impress Jane with. I don't wanna bore her."
Kurtis blinked, surprised to the point of near amusement.
Ronaldo? Bore someone? Annoy yes, but bore?
Impossible at best, let alone with Jane considering how much the ticket girl doted on the conspiracy theorist. Yet here stood Ron, the same guy who could blurt out bullshit like no tomorrow, fretting over scooter practice just because he wanted his girlfriend to be proud of him.
Kurtis found the reality touching. In an ironic way.
"Please, senpai?"
Though not as ironic as that. Especially when Ronaldo pleaded with clasped hands and that huge shimmering gaze for the umpteenth time.
The darker-skinned boy looked away with a blush, frowning. Why did this guy insist on calling him that term?
Okay, so weeks of meeting up at the lighthouse (whether for Amber's tutelage or investigations) and whatnot did culminate in a tentative friendship between the two boys. He doesn't need anime eyes to get my cooperation by this point, the stocky youth mused with a resigned yet genuine smile.
The reward for his nod of surrender came as an extra firm bear hug.
The next few minutes went by surprisingly fast as Kurtis stood by and watched over his peer, watching the chubby teen practice a few basic moves. Sometimes, however, he would look away for the briefest of moments, expecting to see someone else, so lost in thought he forgot to keep his face neutral.
"Are you still looking for Jane?"
With a subtle jolt of surprise, Kurtis tore his view away from the roads to notice Ronaldo had halted right next to him. He blushed at letting himself get distracted.
Ronaldo assured his friend with a wink and gentle elbow to the ribs. "C'mon, you can tell me!"
Kurt eyed Ron for a moment then took a deep breath. "Steven and Connie aren't here."
Hearing the name of the two younger adolescents gave Ronaldo pause. "Are their parents dropping them off?" At his peer's silence, the blogger's eyes expanded. "Wait, you're not saying they're driving themselves here, right?"
Really? One could literally hear Kurtis rolling his eyes. "I drove. Stevonnie took over to practice by their self." That way, any possible altercation with the police would be averted. "They want to race some guy named Kevin for payback."
The way Ronaldo's nose wrinkled as if someone just stuck a rancid piece of pizza in his face did not escape his partner's notice.
Yeah, after hearing what those two said about their first time as Stevonnie, can't say I'm surprised. Beyond his peripherals, Kurtis noticed Buck and Sour Cream approaching them, both boys' faces stony (well, Sour Cream's anyway; Buck remained as unreadable as usual).
"Bro," Buck dragged that word out as though he intended to pour in all the distress in the world into it, "Please tell us you're playing around."
"Dude," Vidalia's son sighed, feeling Kurtis needed some exposition, "That guy is not worth the time. He gets on everyone's nerves just for the fun of it."
"A second thought has much power," Buck added in a sage tone, "some people don't deserve that."
"You tried to talk Steven and Connie out of racing that guy didn't you?"
Kurtis shook his head no. One look at those kids' determined faces, especially Steven's, and he knew there'd be no convincing them. "Learn through action if not words."
Ronaldo sighed, figuring as much. He readily agreed with Buck and Sour Cream, and disliked the thought of one of his good friends stooping to Kevin's level. However, he'd also come to trust Kurt's sense of intuition. In which case, all any of them could do was trust Steven and Connie's sense of judgment.
"Then they'll be racing as Stevonnie," Buck stated, not asked. "Bold."
"Yep," Ronaldo affirmed as he fixed his glasses, full on analysis-mode, "From what I gathered beforehand and from Am—another source's own explanations on fusion, Steven is capable of merging with both Gems and humans. That makes sense enough. My former theory postulated Stevonnie as a specially fabricated bodysuit designed for espionage."
At the other boys' bewildered stares, he drew his hands up in defense. "I had limited info at the time, okay?"
Before the conversation could continue, everyone turned at the sound of two cars revving down from the curve and halting to screeching stops in the middle of the lot: one the unmistakable Pizza jeep; the other a deep gold sports car so sleek and shiny Kurtis felt glad he wore dark glasses.
"Ugh!" Jenny griped as she slapped her hands against the wheel, "My practice didn't pay off at all! That was so bad!"
Out of the sports car stepped a lean teen with mocha skin, short-cropped black hair riddled with the scent of overly expensive cologne, and clothes that equally reeked of someone with too much money and time on his hands. His languid incline against the car, half-lidded gaze, and drowsy-not drowsy tone of voice confirmed that impression.
"I know, baby. I'm the worst."
Kurtis scowled instantly. Impressive. Five seconds and I already can't stand him.
Ignoring the Pizza girl's disgruntled scoff, Pretty Boy called out to anyone who had the guts to face him on the course next, to which Ronaldo smartly hid Peedee's scooter behind himself, knowing better. When no one answered, the showoff's eyes strolled across the crowd, searching for victims himself.
Then his gaze landed on Kurtis.
Combing back his hair, Pretty Boy stepped towards the oddball pair until he stood within one foot of the taller male, half-lidded gaze trailing from bottom to top, landing on the passive face and round glasses.
"I thought I heard rumors about a new face to this garbage town. Hey handsome, name's Kevin. And yes, I said that without a mirror. Course if ya'd like to stand still so I can use your pretty lenses as a sub, I wouldn't mind."
Kurtis gave no response—aside an 'over the glasses' stare fit for something smooshed underfoot, a possible outcome if this guy insisted on invading his personal space for any longer. A bit of flattery sparked in him when his peripherals caught Ronaldo frowning at the egotist in disgust.
Fortunately, Pretty Boy elected to lean away, hands raised and head tilted in cool arrogance. "Silent type, eh? I can dig. We'll see how long that lasts after I'm done showing the next loser my skills."
Jenny mimed oral ejection of her breakfast and lunch in the background. Ronaldo and Sour Cream bit back a chortle at the display; Buck smirked; Kurtis once again felt honored.
Unfortunately, Kevin stepped even closer, raising a hand as if to cup Kurtis' chin. "Though if you're feelin' up to it, hunk, I guess I could spare you and your cute little moped a shot."
No need to. The unexpected Dundai (to everyone but Kurtis anyway) diverted all attention with its flair-studded entrance. As did the tall figure stepping out of it as their black poofy hair flowed in the evening breeze, eyes dark with determination.
"I'll race you!" They pointed at Kevin with all the conviction of a queen and king in one. "Now step away from the man with the ponytail!"
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
C-flat, A, A-sharp...nah, that doesn't sound right. Maybe...Ugh!
It was no use. Greg set the guitar down on his lap and closed his eyes with a despondent groan.
The sound of ice cubes tinkling against glass drew the portly man's attention to a tall glass of chilled cherry juice offered to him by Uma. He took it with a grateful smile, the elder woman returning the mien before going back to her seat to Greg's left to resume her knitting.
The music man stared into his drink for a few moments, the stress lines under his eyes reflected in the cold red, before taking a meager sip. Somebody taller than Uma yet shorter than him leant against his shoulder from the right.
"If you need some ginger ale, I can steal some from Pete or Kofi."
To anyone who barely knew Marcus, the Peruvian would sound serious; Greg did not fall into that category. The ex-rock star smiled at the joke, shoulders hunching from held back chuckles.
"Op! Look at that, Uma!" Marcus breezily crowed, "I told you I'd get a smile outta this man tonight."
A wily hum comprised the grandmother's response. "And here I assumed you'd be achieving that through other means."
That quip got Greg blushing very hard. Marcus only rolled his eyes, hardy flustered by the innuendo, as he broke contact with the other man.
Despite himself, Greg still smiled (albeit bashfully), thankful to have these two oddballs taking his mind off all these worries. With a deep breath, he leaned back in the lawn chair, feeling somewhat more relaxed.
"Guess I'm worried letting Connie and Steven have the Dundai was a bad idea."
Marcus leaned forward in his wheelchair with a knowing stare. "Kurtis pitched the idea to you and got a home run, huh?"
Hunching his shoulders to hide his blush, Greg started plucking his strings in an absentminded manner. "Your kid's really persuasive!"
"You should have seen Little Bloom at the dinner two days ago," Uma commented.
"Deflected every question from Priyanka's interrogation to the point their little spat felt like a tennis match," Marcus added in a prideful tone.
"Yeah," Greg looked between the two Flores as he replied, "Connie gave me and Schtu-ball the details at the Car Wash before that Kevin kid showed up. So I guess Dr. Maheswaran and Kurt's argument was the highlight of that night."
That grin of Marcus could not have been smarmier. "Nope! That would be Amber strolling onto the table and shapeshiftin' into her true not-blue self." Not that the sight of 'Sparky' taking a seat at the table failed to get heads turning. "Just hopped up and exposed the truth like an encore."
Greg could only give a low whistle. The little sparkplug had more gumption than he thought.
"You wanna know the wacky part?" Marcus lost his grin and gazed into the night, dark eyes gleaming in wonder. "They just took it. Aside from bugged eyes and open mouths, they rolled with it and just asked her straight from the top. Questions like," he started to count off his fingers, "'how did you end up like this' and 'how long have you dealt with humans' and of course 'how good of a caretaker are you'."
So pretty much the standard to expect from Connie's parents.
Uma halted in her project. "One question of theirs, though, bothers me. In fact, we would like to get your input on it." Please note that she said this without taking her eyes off her knitting, while still sounding completely chill, mind you. "Is there a cure for this?"
Greg rubbed his neck and shifted his gaze downward. "Um, I don't know much about Gem stuff besides what Rose and the others told me, so I can't really say."
Marcus clamped an arm around him as a means of assurance. "Ah, no te preocupes de eso. We're all in the same boat. That's why Amber wants your help."
"MY HELP?!"
Greg needed a moment to catch his breath!
What did Amber honestly think he could do to help her? Okay, he pulled through for the Gems on more than one occasion. Still, if Rose could never find a way to heal all those 'corrupted Gems', how on Earth was a normal guy like him supposed to accomplish the same?
Except Amber wanted his help specifically (for whatever reason) and Greg didn't have the heart to turn her down, misgivings or not, so he might as well give this whole cure search a shot for her sake.
He sighed with heavy reluctance. "I'll...see what I can do."
With a triumphant 'ha', Marcus clapped his back in reward. "Atta Guitar Dad!"
Chuckling past the nervousness of the accepted task, Greg tossed him an angled half-smile. "Ya know, Mark, Marty's not here anymore. You can use your old nickname for me if ya want."
Other hand on his chest, Marcus gazed at the man in faux affront. "With all due respect, Mr. Universe, I was hoping to avoid disrespect towards you, but be it far from me if you insist on inflicting offense upon yourself...Starman."
The two men shared a good round of laughter, Greg looping an arm over Mark's shoulders in a half-hug of camaraderie. Just like the good old days.
A sudden realization occurred to Greg: "Amber's over at the temple telling the Gems the same thing you guys told me, isn't she?"
Marcus pointed a finger at the ex-rocker. "And I betcha half my health insurance our kids are havin' the same talk. Maybe."
Uh. Greg needed a moment to blink. "Wait. How long have you guys been planning—"
"Ever since the day before we moved back here," Uma answering without missing a beat, only to pause in her knitting and furrow her brow with a thoughtful upward gaze, "Expect little Ronnie, of course. But then again that's what flexibility is for."
"Amby meant to ask you and the Crystal Crew altogether after that whole debacle with Marty," Marcus continued, "but she decided to let you have your moment of monetary glory."
That and then there came the whirlwind trip to Empire City Greg took with his son and, of all Gems, Pearl the next day, not to mention that dinner with the Maheswarans that same night. And Amber and Blue Bell got so wrapped up in their talk yesterday that they lost track of the time.
In any case, Marcus sent a gentle punch to Greg's chest. "Good job, by the way."
Mr. Universe eyed Mr. Flores in wonder. "On the money or patching things up with Pearl?"
Marcus stroked his chin in thought. He decided against mentioning the unintentional pun. "Pearl, but really good question."
Greg simply leaned back in his chair, eyes wide and stunned, taking in the foresight of this family. A nervous laugh escaped him. "You guys are scary. Awesome...but scary."
Uma patted his thick arm as a means of comfort. "We Flores just like to think ahead."
Speakin' of scary, Marcus rolled up his right sleeve back to check his silver watch, Starman Jr. and company should be back by this time; otherwise Pri-Pri is gonna have all our hides.
As if on cue, the Dundai came to stop in front of the flower shop, the engine cutting off as Kurtis come out the front passenger side to get his moped out of the back and a beaming Stevonnie on the other, flipping their voluminous hair out of their eyes.
"Hey guys!"
Greg jumped to his feet and approached the teens with a half-relieved, half-anxious expression. "How did it go?"
"Pretty good!" Stevonnie exclaimed with a chipper expression. They shared a happy glance with Kurtis, who joined their side with a faint smile, moped draped over his shoulders. "Better than expected actually!"
Marcus's eyebrows went up as he leaned forward in his wheelchair, eager to know. "So you showed that sucka' up?"
"Nah, I pretty much lost," the fusion confirmed with a shrug, their smile still present. At the adults' blank stares, they rubbed their arm sheepishly. "Kind of a crazy story."
A pink flash later, Connie and Steven were back, same mien as Stevonnie on their faces. The former held up an assuring hand.
"We'll explain on the way home."