Disclaimer: Don't own it.
Notes: Spoilers out the wazoo. More of an older brother/younger sister (or is it younger brother/older sister?) relationship than romance, I guess it could be taken whatever way.
OOOOO
Care Packages
OOOOO
The alarm clock built into her standard issue communicator buzzed like an angry hornet and caused the device to vibrate against the desk upon which it rested, subsequently adding to the obtrusive noise. Instinctively, Sophia swung her arm to the right with the intention of slapping the offending device into silence. However, this was not her hotel room on Hyda IV, nor was it the sterile environment on the Diplo or the forested alcoves of Elicoor II. Her opened palm was met with nothing but the cool air pumped into the single family shelter in which she had been living for the past few weeks, her defeated arm falling to the side of her bed with a barely audible thump. Willing herself awake, Sophia slid out of bed and indolently lumbered over to the other side of the room where her communicator rested, cursing Cliff for the effectiveness of this tactic under her breath.
'It's either get up and shut the damn thing off or suffer all morning,' he had told her on that long and lonely flight to Roak. He had been the one to initially contact her, her communicator unexpectedly vibrating against her rear end and making her jump. She had pulled the item out of the back pocket of her jeans with an embarrassed look on her face and answered the call to see none other than Cliff's face projected onto the tiny reception screen.
"Hey there, kiddo!" the Klausian man had greeted jubilantly, giving her smile that was laced with that trademark Fittir charm.
"Uh, hi Cliff!" Sophia returned, somewhat confused. He was the last person from whom she expected a call. Well, maybe not the last, she had mused, thinking of those left behind on Elicoor II. Nel, Roger, Albel, Adray… Fayt. Her best friend had decided that it would behoove him to remain out of public eye while the remnants of the Federation reassembled. Both he and Maria knew that opposing factions were swarming the galaxy and that these opposing divisions would be more than happy to 'convince' the two biological weapons into choosing sides, whether by coercion or foul play. A year or so of silence was a pittance to pay in exchange for the safety of their loved ones.
On that note, Maria had quietly slipped away from the Federation's sphere of influence when she followed Mirage and the rest of the Diplo's crew to the city of Lazeria on Klaus IV. Fayt remained on Elicoor II, primarily under the care of the Kingdom of Aquaria, but he was free to roam the land as he pleased. At least, that's what she thought they had decided. Sophia could not recall the minute details of Fayt's tenure, for she parted ways with him in a rather distraught state, tears still streaming down her face as the verdant planet became the size of a marble through the starboard windows on the Diplo. Before she left, he had kissed her on the forehead, given her a tight hug that she was relay to his mother, and told her that he would stay out of trouble. In response to the latter, Sophia had opened her mouth to tell him that that was a damn lie, but a wave of sorrow hit her abruptly, and she could only manage to give him a light punch to the chest and a forced but sincere smile before she stepped onto the Diplo's teleporter and disappeared from the Irisa Fields in a spiraling blue light. By the time she had been subatomically reconfigured in the Diplo's transportation room, she was in tears.
She and Cliff had gone on to fill that two week void with a plethora of odd conversational topics in their daily chats via communicator, ranging from sleeping habits to discussing Cliff's nearly nonconsensual plunge into the realm of diplomacy. Cliff had been surprised to discover a common ground in the realm of the former, as Sophia seemed like such a "greet every day with a smile" type of girl. Tittering at the comment, Sophia was quick to correct his misconceptions and kindly informed him that she was a bit of an ogre in the morning, a thought that greatly amused him.
He had never seen that side of her because they had never been in much of a rush in the mornings following her introduction into the group. Life and death was a matter of concentration, and an hour's worth of sleep could be the deciding factor in a fight, especially when symbologists such as herself were concerned. Sophia remembered waking according to her own schedule, sometimes awkwardly cuddled to Maria while buried under a wandering Peppita, who was asleep and pillowed upon her breasts. This always amused Mirage—who was, for some unexplainable reason, always the first one to rise—and she would sometimes offer her own sleeping bag to the pile of girls that would accumulate over the cold night, unzipping it and placing it over the three and bending over to tuck them in, her long golden braid sometimes falling over her shoulder and tickling Sophia awake for a few seconds. The girl would then mumble her thanks, squeeze Peppita to her like a stuffed animal, and drift away into slumber.
"If you've got trouble getting up, just sit the stupid thing on the other side of the room. It doesn't do you any good if you can just crush it into pieces and then roll over. It's either get up and shut the damn thing off or suffer all morning."
Sophia had never actually crushed an alarm clock in her spurts of morning rage, but she imagined Cliff's feelings on the subject were quite true. Briefly, she wondered if it was Maria who forced this nondestructive regime on Cliff, who must have gone through the Diplo's spare clocks like a hot knife through butter. As Quark's leader, it was probably her job to dispose of all unwise expenditures. Short of jettisoning Cliff into a passing comet, it was probably all she could do.
As Sophia picked up the communicator and turned the alarm off, she thought of Cliff again, and how she became closer to him over those two weeks than she had over the course of their entire journey. At first, she had only thought he had called because he was worried about her—or rather, the power within her—and, although he had told her to try and keep her "you know what" from "you know what-ing", he did not come off as controlling. He also went on to assure her that he would crush the skulls of any suspicious persons upon her say-so, even if he did have to cancel a meeting with those "old geezers". In fact, he seemed to be hopeful for a chance to do so.
"Oh, please don't worry about me like that," Sophia had begged. Although it was possible, she didn't want to think of having a stalker and potential kidnapper while she was so close to her parents and Aunt Ryoko. She would be more than happy to send a Lightning Strike or two at an unwanted presence, but she didn't want the possibility of a hostage situation.
"Sorry…" he had said, scratching behind his head sheepishly. "I'm just telling you to say on your toes. I already gave Maria and the kid this talk, but they've got Mirage and an army of babes to protect them, respectively. You've got yourself."
That conversation instilled Sophia with just the slightest bit of paranoia. Subsequently, when she would leave the shelter, the tail end of her Bunny's Scepter would peak out from her backpack just behind her left shoulder for easy access. It was not the most powerful of staves she had saved from her journey, but it made for a quick getaway, which was always her first priority. However, should she be forced into combat, the Star Necklace that dangled just above her cleavage would assist her in making quick work of her attackers. Although she never would have had these thoughts before, she liked to think that Cliff would be proud of the caution she exercised. Like Fayt, she now viewed him as a sort of big brother (and thus went out of her way to impress him). If Fayt was the nice kind of big brother that would go out of his way to make her happy, then Cliff was scary, thuggish kind who would beat up punks that picked on his little sister. It was cute, in a way, although the situation was a little more serious than that of schoolyard bullies.
She placed her communicator back down and went to her closet to rummage around for some clothes, taking special care not to disturb the pink top and purple skirt she had borrowed from Maria. Upon her arrival to the shelter, she had washed and ironed them but had not had the chance to return them to the older girl. Although she was quite reluctant to return them to their original owner (those paw print tights were just too cute!), she resisted the urge to once again don the outfit. Besides, although Maria was older, the top was a little tight over Sophia's bust line. Thwarting temptation, she opted for a sleeveless white top and a dark plaid skirt.
Smoothing out her outfit in the faint morning sun that streamed into her room, she examined herself in the mirror through the soft yellow ambiance. Picking up her brush, she gave her hair a few good strokes before smoothing her bangs over to the right of her face and pinning the other side in place with two white hairclips. Feeling a bit excited about the events that would be taking place today, she rummaged through the first drawer in her boudoir until she found her bag of cosmetics. Taking it into the small bathroom that was connected to her room, she set it down on the porcelain sink and thoroughly washed her face and brushed her teeth. Next, she opened the bag and set the contents out in neat rows according to what they were. She passed on the foundation and mascara—she wasn't particularly blemished today and she almost never wore the latter (although she was not normally a vain person, she knew she had some of the prettiest eyelashes around). Going straight for the lipstick that had the color closest to the pale pink ribbon tied under the collar of her shirt, she picked it up at popped the lid off, twisting the bottom to reveal the column of pink hidden inside. After applying it, she clicked the cap back on and tossed it into her backpack with her Bunny's Scepter and communicator. Giving herself another once-over in the mirror, she quietly opened her door and crept down to the living area.
She saw that her parents were not home, as expected. Even on Roak, both of them were under pressure at their respective jobs. Her father, although he specialized in the physics concerning 4D space (that talent personified in the powers of his daughter), he was still swamped with reports, most of them explanations in regards to the hows and whys of the damage brought by the universe's mother dimension. Well, at least they aren't begging him to open a portal or something, Sophia thought. Revenge was not a productive way to occupy one's time, even if the means to that revenge were impossible. Sophia glanced down at her right arm and held her palm out in front of her, mimicking her nearly uncontrollable actions that fateful day on Styx. A gateway to another world came right out of my hand, she mused to herself. She only hoped there was now a firewall or something to protect 4D space from this capricious power of hers, for she still had no idea how to control it. Connection had only manifested itself once, and it was so quick Sophia had no time to even commit what it felt like to memory. Only her burning arm served as a preamble, but that was only seconds before the symbols enclosed the offending limb and brought it forward, the jerking motion bringing her to the ground shortly after the deed was done.
Sophia let her arm fall back to her side and shrugged, going over to the counter and grabbing a pen and some paper. She addressed her note to Aunt Ryoko, as her parents practically lived in their respective offices now, and Sophia probably wouldn't see them until the weekend. Even then, it just might be her father. Her mother, although she had designated hours, felt that it was her Hippocratic duty to attend to all of the ailed following the near destruction of the universe. Sophia didn't mind the unintentional neglect, but she was worried that her mother might break down if she didn't rest a little more. She scribbled her plans for the day onto the note and left her communicator's number if Aunt Ryoko wanted to check up on her, although Sophia doubted she would. She had heard Fayt's mother drag herself into bed this morning around seven before tuning out the woman's shuffling around and falling back asleep.
Ryoko had really been given the short end of the stick now that she had reentered the scientific world—odd hours and all of that. Although she said that a lot of the other genomorphists were on the same night shift with her, Sophia was a little angry that her employers wouldn't deign to cut the Leingod woman some slack. Her husband was dead and her only son was "missing". It was public news! Sophia was mad that they just expected Ryoko to bounce back after all of that.
She sighed and tried to allow the anger to leave her. Such is the way of the Federation, she mused, somewhat surprised at herself for even thinking of pinning the blame on a single organization. Too bad Quark has already disbanded, that wayward voice added. Sophia gasped a little and covered her mouth as if she had spoken some foul curse. Cliff was a terrible influence.
She glanced at the clock—9:41—and decided that she had better skedaddle if she wanted to be on time. Taking one of the spare cardkeys from the top of the refrigerator and slipping it into her wallet, she left the shelter, the electronic lock clicking into place behind her.
The shelter assigned to the Esteed family plus one was on the far north side of a row of identical shelters, the combined weight of the Esteed and Leingod surnames more than likely being what garnered for them the extra space and relatively nice view given by a shelter unobstructed by others. Although she missed her nice house back on Earth, this place was starting to grow on her, partially because its natural beauty had not yet been overtaken by the burgeoning of civilization like on her home planet. On Roak, there was a spaceport here and there, and maybe a few major cities to accommodate said ports. Cities led into towns and towns trickled into villages and villages faded into the wild. This harmony between biological organisms and automations impressed Sophia, as on most planets it was a battle of domination between the two, and sometimes just one or the other.
Twirling a lock of her hair, she walked past rows of Earthling refugee housing until she came to the transporter that would take her to Cratous Spaceport #3, where Cliff would be meeting her shortly. She and a few other nondescript persons boarded the shuttle and seated themselves. It was nearly empty, as the rush of workers into the city ended about an hour ago. Unintentionally, she made eye contact with a Felinefolk youth, who was looking at her inquisitively from his seat across from her. She gave him a friendly smile and he immediately looked away, embarrassed, his white tail pressing up against his thigh as if it were hiding. She giggled, but thought nothing more of it, letting the engine of the transporter lull her into a daze that would last until its arrival at the terminal, where it would stop at each port, allowing time for people to enter and exit the vehicle at their discretion. When it arrived at Spaceport #3, Sophia stood to leave, but stopped when the Felinefolk boy cleared his throat. She turned to look at him and give her full attention; however, he couldn't seem to meet her eyes.
"Um, um, uh…," he began, wringing his tail between his sweaty palms. "I'm Bianca."
"Nice to meet you," she answered warmly, although she was a bit confused as to why the boy had a female's name. Oh well. When on Roak… "I'm Sophia."
He glanced up at her and blushed. "I, uh, see you around the Earthling shelter sometimes—I live, um, nearby."
"Oh." She really didn't know what to say to him, and the marquee above the exit was counting down the thirty seconds she had to leave the shuttle before it departed to Spaceport #4. "Well, I gotta go now, Bianca, but I guess I'll see you around, okay?"
"Yeah!" he agreed, ecstatic that the pretty girl he had been admiring for the past few weeks had deigned to talk to a kid like him. He was so caught up in his excitement that he nearly missed her waving goodbye through the windows of the now closed doors. He waved back dreamily, his hand moving back and forth in front of his lopsided grin.
Sophia allowed herself to laugh at him when he was safely out of sight. However, this amusement was not malicious in nature. In fact, she thought him rather adorable. He reminded her of the sweet little boy act that Roger would usually pull on unsuspecting women, the only difference being that Bianca seemed sincere in his bashful charm.
She examined the docking spaceships closely before realizing that it was not the Diplo in which her visitor would be arriving and that looking for it would be rather futile. She sat down on a bench and watched the hustle and bustle of the port pass her by. Families divided by the Creator finally reuniting, two lovers that had obviously been separated for far too long (Really, Sophia thought, there are kids around!), ex-Federation soldiers patrolling the premises, their uniform the same as before except for the missing crests that had signified their employing government…
Whatever the reason for the removal of the crests, Sophia couldn't blame them for wanting to get rid of the stigma now attached to the former Pangalactic Federation. Helplessness in a time of crisis. Of course, she remembered that they were all helpless at one point; furthermore, it was a bit illogical to blame them for not knowing how to effectively counter the initial Executioner attacks. However, it seemed like the universe needed a scapegoat and frankly Sophia was just happy that it wasn't the Leingods.
"Well, aren't you even going to say 'hi' to me?"
Sophia was snapped out of her contemplative reverie by the heavy weight that had settled next to her, a muffled thud accompanying his backside as he allowed himself to flop onto the bench.
"Cliff!" she exclaimed, turning to her right and hugging him from the side, her fingertips barely able to meet on the other side of his bulky arms. "I'm so sorry! I wasn't really paying attention."
"Nah, it's cool. I'm in cognito, anyway, so it's good that not even my own comrades can recognize me. Although…" he trailed off, lowering his sunglasses and pouting, "I'm a bit hurt that you would be so quick to forget the aura of such a sexy hunk of man."
"Well, I don't know about auras, but I was sure glad to ditch the smell, if that's what you mean!" To emphasize her point she let the Klausian go and held her nose, giving him a halfhearted frown.
"Oh, you have wounded me twice, lady fair. I daresay I will die if you continue to carry on with such malicious exclamations," Cliff exaggerated, raising the back of his hand to his forehead in a mock swoon.
Sophia giggled. "Aw, I'm sorry. I had no idea you were so sensitive about it."
"It's not so much sensitivity as it is a feeling of being unjustly ostracized," he laughed, bumping into her side playfully, "I mean, we were all pretty smelly after a long day's travel, right?"
"Yeah, I guess you're right," she agreed. Taking the sudden silence that followed that concurrence to her advantage, she peeked out of the corner of her eyes to examine Cliff.
He was still as big and imposing as ever, although his earrings were missing and his hair looked like it had been combed. He wore a red high-collared shirt under a bulky black leather jacket, the former more than likely to hide the three rings around his neck. His jeans were frayed in some places, and vaguely Sophia wondered if it had happened over time for if he had bought them that way. Cliff didn't seem like a fashion guru, but Sophia reminded herself that he also didn't seem like the type to mastermind an anti-Federation organization. She laughed and moved on to his shoes, a pair of menacing black boots that were more than likely aching for the "skull crushing" of which Cliff spoke while she was on the Hornet.
"What's so funny?" he asked, frowning. He had worked hard on his outfit!
"You look like a thug," she answered bluntly, tugging on the sleeve of his leather jacket.
"What I was goin' for," he told her happily. "Me? I'm just a regular Earthling punk taking his bird shopping. No diplomat to kiss up to here, that's for sure."
"Bird?" Sophia questioned, her face scrunched up in confusion. "What to you mean?"
Cliff's sighed. "Ah, forget it. I guess I'm just getting ol—oh shit!" he exclaimed suddenly, turning to face her and pulling the collar of his jacket up to conceal the part of his face visible to the persons of the spaceport.
"Uh, what's wrong?" Sophia whispered, sensing the urgency in Cliff's voice. A sudden thought hit her, and her insides froze. "A-are there bad men here?" she asked in a small voice.
"Oh, nonono," Cliff assured her, patting her head. "Sorry for worrying you. It's just that, well… See that guy over there?" he asked, inclining his head forwards, his eyes pinned on a departing passenger. "The gangly looking bastard with the pointy ears."
Sophia turned around and inconspicuously glanced in the direction Cliff was indicating. The man in question was a tall, serious looking Expelian with dark blue hair. He was talking to what appeared to be a subordinate, although it looked like a bit of a one-sided conversation on his part. The subservient humanoid nodded dumbly at him, took his luggage, and escorted him onto one of the shuttles into Cratous. "Yeah, I saw him," she said, turning around to face Cliff, who had relaxed his guard at the other man's departure.
"Well, he's a dick."
Sophia laughed aloud at his blunt proclamation. "Really? What did he do to warrant that title, beat you in an arm wrestling match?"
"I'm serious, Sophia."
The girl in question tensed at the tone of his voice. "…Then who is he?"
"Alexander A. Tax. He's one of the reps from Expel and, although Prime Minister Kross doesn't approve of his methodology, he's quite popular on his planet, so he manages to get a majority vote every term."
"His methodology?"
"Yeah. He doesn't want the Klaus System to have a part in whatever new governing body we're devising, even as a neutral power. I mean, I can understand how he might not like how proud Klausians act, but it's not as if we're butt-fucking-crazy like those Rezerbians. He's trying to make us seem like we're a bunch of outlaws. Man, when I catch him alone…" Cliff growled, pounding one fist into his open palm.
"But… Wouldn't beating him up would only allow him to make an example out of you?"
"Yeah, but I'd feel better. Hell, you might even want to join me—he's also quite interested in the whereabouts of Maria and Fayt. That's probably the only reason why he's been civilized to me. Hmph. As if I'd tell him anything. If word ever gets out about you and your power, I guarantee he'll be the first one knocking at your door," Cliff paused for a moment to take a breath and composed his thoughts—he always got so worked up when talking about Tax. "Anyway, sorry again for frightening you. I just didn't want that condescending prick to come over here and talk to us—he'd definitely recognize you as the Esteed's girl, and then he'd never go away… I thought for sure I was the last one to leave the ship, but I guess his dumb ass was probably still powdering his nose…"
"It's okay," she said, although she made a note to commit the representative's face to memory so she could avoid unnecessary encounters with him. "I'm sorry for keeping you away from work."
"Please don't be," he said, stretching his arms and then lacing his fingers behind his head. "A cute girl or a hotel full of pompous bureaucrats? Gee, how will I ever decide?"
Sophia blushed and fiddled with the ribbon under her collar.
"Besides, I think it's a pretty nice idea."
"Do you really think so?" When she had first had an inkling as to exactly what she wanted to do, she had nixed the idea almost immediately. She thought it was very selfish of her, like a desperate attempt to remind those she fought beside that she was still there, alone and lonely on Roak. She didn't want to bother Fayt, and the thought that maybe the others didn't care for her as much as she cared for them wormed itself into her mind. The fear that perhaps word from her would remind them of the horrors that they faced, that the thought of her would also cause negative feelings to resurface, a grudge against Fourth-Dimensional beings and maybe even the girl that made the crossing between worlds possible.
Cliff empathized with her (for his new work left him with only Lancar for tolerable company) and encouraged her to go through with it, assuring her that she would not be making herself trouble for anyone. Having a conference on Roak worked in Cliff's favor, and he volunteered to help the young girl with whatever she had planned.
"For the hundredth time, yes," he told her, exasperated, for she always doubted herself every time they spoke of it, "and if you ask me again I'm going to pick you up and throw you in that fountain over there." He unclasped his hands to point at said fountain. "It looks rather cold, and I'd hate to do that to a girl in white."
"Oh, you wouldn't!" Sophia laughed, yet she found herself scooting just out of his immediate reach.
"Two words, little girl: diplomatic immunity." With that, he made a lunge for her.
Sophia's indignant shriek was lost in the noise of the spaceport as she jumped from her seat and onto her wobbling legs while pulling the predominantly pink scepter out of its cloth sheath. She swiftly whirled around with her weapon readied like a bat, striking her attacker in the face, the bunny on the end of the stave meeting Cliff's lips in a rough kiss.
"Well, color me surprised…" Cliff spoke, his voice muffled by the bunny that now rested on his lips.
The victor stood there, stunned. She didn't really mean to attack. She had just had a bad… experience… with wet white clothes years ago, during that awkward period where little girls and boys become quite aware of their differences. She and Fayt had been playing tag and stumbled into a pond near the playground. It was there where the blue-haired boy got at least a ten second eyeful of her developing breasts before Sophia readied her fist and gave him a tagging to end all tags. She didn't talk to him for a week after that, but the lump on his head and bruises around his face didn't heal until a good time after they were on speaking terms, so Fayt ended up with a sneak peak and a tray of Apology Cookies.
"I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed after a good minute, retracting the staff and putting it back into her backpack. "It's just that, well, that wouldn't have been too fun for me."
"Ah, I guess I was asking for it. Some things you just can't joke about with women…"
"I'm really sorry."
"Don't be. It's great, actually," Cliff assured her, standing to his full height. "Good to know you're prepared and all." He stretched again and offered his arm to her. "C'mon. I was sitting on that ship for hours and my ass is killing me."
Sophia linked her arm in his as they walked toward the shuttle that would take them into Cratous, noting how hard his muscles felt under his jacket and wondering exactly how much bulk the leather added. Being as discreet as possible, she gave his arm a squeeze.
"That's one hundred percent Fittir you're feeling up," he said nonchalantly in response, looking down at her.
She snorted. "I'm not feeling you up!"
"Oh, that's what everyone says," he claimed, blue eyes rolling skyward behind his sunglasses.
Sophia wrenched her arm away from his and shoved him over the shuttle's threshold. It was all she could do not to kick him. Hmph. "Older brother" indeed.
OOOOO
Comments: Yeah, Sophia's outfit for the day is 3P. I think it's the cutest.
The extraneous OCs (Bianca and Tax) are apart of the fic I've been kicking around but probably will never get around to writing that takes place in this same timeline. Don't mind them. But I'll worship your 1337 recollection skillz if you know from what city Tax hails.
Part two coming sooner than later. Super happy magical sparkly shopping adventure!
Review please. :D