Air in the garage was, as always, thick and stuffy – a fact both helped and worsened by the garage door, opened to allow the occasional breeze to stir the air within, while brilliant sunlight spilled through to bake all in its path. It was one reason Ana preferred to stay out of the garage – really, she'd only stayed for long while accompanying Kamilah as they cleaned the bikes and car. It also helped that her wife took every measure to stay as comfortable as possible – fans, a half-raised door, towels, and a large bottle of water for breaks amid busywork.

Her daughter, however, didn't bother with all of that. Ana's search for Fareeha had led her to the garage, where she wasn't surprised to find the girl sitting with her hoverbike right by the door, under the blazing sun, with only a portable standing fan to provide relief from the heat. Was it just indifference, or did she actually like it this way? Ana could never figure it out. Even as a child, Fareeha was heedless of her surroundings, as long as she was having fun.

Maybe you're just out of touch, Ana thought wryly. She never did get to spend much time with Fareeha even when she had been a girl, after all.

With feather-light steps, Ana crept up on her daughter from behind. Not that Fareeha would've noticed, not with how the girl was hunched over a tablet in her lap, utterly engrossed while she tapped and dragged fingertips over its screen. A palm-sized portable speaker sat on the floor beside her, playing chill beats to liven an otherwise silent air. It was a serenity Ana was loath to break – she hadn't seen Fareeha without stiff shoulders whenever they were alone, without Kamilah around to intervene in case something happens. Not that they'd butted heads since Ana's return, but old habits died hard. And this was one habit Ana hoped to break.

She pondered how to break the silence, without the sound of her voice causing Fareeha's shoulders to lock up in response. Then Fareeha muttered a curse, yanking her hand away from the tablet – and Ana saw that two of her fingers were still shiny with oil. Probably from her time with the bike, which she'd smeared onto the tablet's screen by accident. Resisting the urge to snort, Ana bent down and pulled away the towel which Fareeha had reached out blindly for, patting on the floor to discern its location. When she couldn't find it, Fareeha turned her head to look, but found it missing. She turned in the other direction, and was greeted by a towel smacking into her face.

Her exclamation was muffled by towel, which she grabbed and yanked down, her scowl growing deeper when she laid eyes on the mischief-maker. But she kept her mouth sealed – probably unaware of the impressive pout she wore – and wiped her fingers off.

"What are you working on?"

A hint of hesitation as Fareeha pondered whether to tell. But she did, as always – a concession for Ana's continued presence. "Bike design," she uttered, not bothering to explain.

Not that she needed to – Ana could see well enough a 3D-modelling software on the tablet. Probably not something practical, since she spotted ridiculously large thrusters in the options panel. Perhaps a tool used by custom bike builders to visualise their dream rides. Ana had seen a mechanic use something similar before, when she'd ordered Kamilah's modified hoverbike.

Pulling a stool over, Ana sat in it with a sigh. "You know, it's always nice to see how much you resemble mama. Loving bikes, spending so much time in the garage… Next you'll be marching around, barking orders at your squad–, oh wait."

Fareeha rolled her eyes at Ana's deliberate drag in the last word, then resumed tapping on the tablet. "I'm not as fierce."

"To be fair, no one could be. She was in a whole other league, and I knew some hardasses in my day." Ana drummed her fingers on one knee, already feeling the conversation lose steam. "She's mellowed out a lot, though."

"Yeah."

And there the conversation died, under the weight of a single word. Ana bit back a sigh. It was like squeezing blood from a rock. But squeeze, Ana would, and she hoped no blood would be drawn from her flesh.

"So," she said slowly. "You wanna go out, grab a coffee sometime?'

After a moment of silence, Fareeha grunted. Such an ambiguous reply that Ana wanted to clutch her own head and squeeze so hard that she blacked out.

"We can get some drinks...have a chat, maybe."

Fareeha heaved a sigh, and Ana wondered if she'd overstepped some unseen boundary yet again. "Ami."

Her heart leapt. It's been years since she'd heard Fareeha call her that. Even after she moved her things back, Fareeha had found a way to avoid addressing Ana like a mother. Ana supposed that was fair enough, deciding she'd earn the right to be called 'ami' again. But to hear Fareeha say it out of the blue, albeit in an exasperated growl, made her realise just how long it's been. How much she'd missed it, to hear her daughter call after her as if Ana had been the world itself.

Ana kept her lips pressed together, calm expression hiding the blow she'd suffered. She took a breath, calming a heart which raced uncontrollably, and flashed a smile at her daughter.

"Yes?"

Fareeha stared at her, wordless for a few seconds, then spoke with that same exasperation. "What would we even 'chat' about?"

Ana shrugged, every bit nonchalant on the surface. "I don't know. I just thought a lot has happened in all the time I wasn't here, so we could do a little...catching up, maybe? Tell me what you've been doing. Hobbies, I don't know… How much you resented your absent parent figure."

Fareeha's eyes went to the ceiling again, but her anger was still missing. "You're right – a lot has happened. But right now, whenever I think about all the past years and you at the same time, all I can come up with… It's just screaming. I only want to scream until my throat is hoarse."

"Wanna start a metal band?"

A snort. "Shut up."

"Now, is that any way to talk to your mother?"

"I hate you," Fareeha muttered, but her pout spoke differently. Ana was familiar with Fareeha's hate, and it always manifested in lips that disappeared into a thin line – much like Kamilah's. Fareeha's pout was a positive sign – she was letting her guard down, and her child-like petulance had reared its head again.

Hoping that she'd read the room well, Ana took a chance and leaned forward, setting a hand on Fareeha's shoulder. "Look, habibti. Everything that's happened between us has happened. Now I'm here to stay, and we can either work through our problems together, or keep having these awkward conversations like we're in some badly-written TV drama."

Another snort. "At least a drama has entertainment value."

"Oh, I don't know. I'm sure some people would find us entertaining." With a smile, Ana gave a gentle squeeze, then withdrew her hand.

More seconds went by as Fareeha struggled with herself, then relented. "Ugh, fine. Coffee. At a shop that serves them with whipped cream."

"And caramel drizzle? Sprinkles? Marshmallows?"

Fareeha groaned, and Ana could tell she was physically pained by regret. "My sweet tooth's not that bad anymore."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

There was a certain kind of restlessness that often gripped Ana in this new phase of life. It didn't quite burn in her gut the same way it had with Captain Amari, when she'd been stuck in her office for days and was desperate for time on the field or at the training range. No, this was subtler, a latent temptation which hummed beneath her peaceful mien; as if most of her had accepted that her life was now easy and mundane. But a tiny, tightly-coiled part of her still demanded that she run, move. To where, she never knew. Not when she locked the desire down, examined it for answers that were never there.

She'd chalked it up to habit, leftover paranoia from a life spent in combat – be it physical or political. And she started to counter it with another habit, a forced meditation where she would sit and be absolutely still. To hold herself captive until she, at the very core, could accept that she was in no danger, under no threat, and had no obligation to keep. Sometimes, it would work, and she could release the tension with a simple sigh. Most other times, she hated to admit, it didn't. This time, she did her best to suppress the knotted tangle of nerves, and ride it out.

She guided her mind into reminiscence, to earlier in the day when she'd sat with Fareeha at a western coffeehouse, trading barbs as she sipped on her green tea latte, while her daughter nursed a frappe and ate whipped cream drizzled with chocolate like it was dessert. It had been so normal, yet so charged with underlying tension that it burst to the surface as non-stop bickering; Ana had found it fun, and while Fareeha grumbled that it'd been anything but, she didn't protest the suggestion of another coffee outing soon.

Holding onto that memory, Ana sighed as her exhaustion won out, forcing stubborn anxiety to give up and lie down for the night. She opened her eye, gaze roving over the room, noting minute details to anchor herself in the present – the wardrobe's outline in the dark, the stack of empty cardboard boxes from her move, her jacket draped over the chair at the study desk, the knock on her door-

Her eye snapped to the door, its knob twisting slowly before it was pushed ajar. Kamilah poked her head through the gap, and Ana smiled when her eyes fell shut.

"I thought you'd be used to this by now."

"Not when you always sit like you're expecting me," Kamilah whispered back, recovering from the momentary scare.

"Your reaction's always worth it." Ana chuckled, then patted on a spot beside her.

Kamilah sighed, no doubt biting down a retort, and slipped through the door, shutting it behind her. She padded over to Ana's spot by the bed, and sank to the floor beside her wife. They sat together quietly, each to their own thoughts, in a night-time routine they'd somehow slipped into after Kamilah had first checked on Ana after a particularly bad dream. It had been a gasp, nothing more; Ana had thought no one would've heard it, but somehow, Kamilah had picked it up and came in to sit with her until she could relax enough to lie down again.

Subsequent visits were by Kamilah checking on Ana of her own volition, and Ana wondered if there were many more times when Kamilah had checked in while she was fast asleep.

"Can't sleep?"

"Yeah." Ana's mouth flickered in a ghost of a smile, and she glanced at Kamilah. "You?"

Kamilah shrugged, hugging her knees. "Just thinking."

"About?"

"About us." Kamilah kept her gaze on the floor, feet fidgeting together. "How did we get here? I always imagined my retirement to be more...peaceful."

"Is it not?"

That earned her a dry look which could rival the deserts in daytime.

"Alright, let me rephrase that. Is it not now?"

"Just looking at you gives me less peace than the Omnic Crisis."

Ana burst out in laughter. "Your tongue's sharper than ever. But I suppose I deserved that." Her head tilted in thought, before she noticed Kamilah staring at her. "Yes?"

"I've been trying, Ana. Trying to get over what you did. To move on. Live how we were supposed to, like how I'd imagined."

"I know. But it's not just that, is it? There are too many things for us to accept and live the way we want. Even before I 'died', there was too much we never discussed when we really needed to."

"I wouldn't even know where to start now."

"Give yourself more credit. You've done a lot already." Ana smiled when Kamilah shot her an incredulous glance. "And...even if we can't start over, we're already doing better. Wouldn't you say?"

Kamilah snorted softly. "You and Fareeha haven't argued yet. That's a start."

"Yeah, it is." Ana laughed under her breath. Her heart paused, then she dared to reach out, cover Kamilah's hand with her own. "We may not attain that life we'd dreamt of in the beginning. But we can still try to be happy, can't we?"

Kamilah stared at her for the longest time, though Ana could only make out part of her face under the moonlight. Silence fell over them again, as Kamilah's gaze fell to the floor. Ana closed her fingers around Kamilah's, and her heart skipped when a thumb brushed gently over her skin.

It was there, sitting in the dark, that Kamilah fell asleep with her head on Ana's shoulder. As loath as she was to move from this, she knew her wife's neck wouldn't take that awkward bend very well. Giving herself a few more minutes to indulge in this closeness, Ana rose to her knees and gathered Kamilah in her arms carefully. Her wife stirred, head shifting against her shoulder, mumbling incoherently as Ana carried her to her own bedroom.

Kamilah's eyes opened briefly as Ana tucked her into bed, but fell back asleep when the covers were drawn to her chest. Ana watched her wife quietly, an ache in her chest, before she nipped to her own room, and returned with a purple dragon toy in her hands. She placed it by the pillow which had been hers, smiled when she turned it to face Kamilah. The lone, stalwart guardian who watched over her in Ana's stead.

Then, after a brief wrestle with indecision, Ana caved in and pressed the gentlest kiss to Kamilah's forehead.

It was a long shot, but Ana was surprised when her suggestion for a short trip was agreed upon. Even Fareeha offered no protests or side glances at her mama, though Ana suspected she'd agreed only because Kamilah did. Their coffee outings with stunted chatter were one thing, but spending whole days together as a family – it was a big leap, truth be told. Since the family had accepted, Ana chose to take it as a positive sign, and felt some relief at the prospect of wandering in a city that wasn't Cairo.

Aswan was their chosen destination – where Ana and Kamilah had their first trip together as a couple. Kamilah had glanced at her briefly when she suggested it, but she offered only a smile in return. Nostalgia was the motivator behind her decision; she'd spent most of her time going through old photos recently, and part of her longed for simpler times when all she had to worry about, was coming up with stupid jokes to prod a reaction out of her girlfriend. Not that she had any illusions that it would miraculously make things better. But, perhaps, it could help Ana feel like herself again.

Like before, they rented an apartment for the length of their stay. After piling out of the car which Fareeha had driven – with plenty of reminders to follow the GPS before she drove the family out of Egypt with her misguided sense of direction – they settled into the spare, but functional lodgings. There were only two bedrooms, one of which Fareeha got, and the other Kamilah would share with Ana. It got them a curious look from Fareeha, but Ana didn't mind. She always looked forward to late night chats with Kamilah.

For the moment, Ana settled for giving the other two some space, and took to gazing through the window at the sights Aswan had to offer. Their apartment provided a nice view of the Nile, and as Ana ran an eye along the river, she wondered at how familiar it still seemed, despite having changed so much over the years. She'd thought the city's reconstruction after the Crisis had been drastic enough, but the city seemed to have gone further and...flourished. Yes, that was the word. It prospered, after being given a chance to rebuild after all it'd been through.

A reminder that the difficult years had been worth it, though the cost…

Kamilah's figure entered her peripheral vision, shaking Ana out of her reverie.

"Brings back memories," Ana said, the first thing which came to mind. Almost a knee-jerk reaction, an act to cover up a mind gone wandering.

Kamilah tilted her head, eyes fixed on the river as well. "Feels like ages ago."

"Because it is, dear." Ana smiled at the side-glance Kamilah shot her. She turned to watch the river again, lamenting what seemed like an increase in cruise ships and floating hotels blocking a clean view of the Nile. "How about going for a felucca ride again? That was fun."

"A day-ride, please. My bones won't survive the cold nights this time."

"You sound so old." Ana fought hard to keep from breaking out in laughter. "Should I try to find a pharaoh's tomb for you? Just in case?"

"Not if I put you in one first."

Kamilah couldn't quite keep the hint of a smile off her face, and Ana, riding the warm high of their snappy tête-à-tête, struggled to pull her eye away from her wife's visage. Taking a subtle breath to calm herself, Ana's fingers fidgeted in an effort at distraction, when something came back to her.

"I just remembered – did you give me that ring in Aswan? The white one with gold vines?"

Kamilah paused, and though her smile had faded some, it still remained. "Yes, I did."

"Is it...still around?" Ana had left it in her wardrobe at home, after she had a wedding band to wear instead. Needless to say, she'd lost track of the trinket.

"It's with me, back home. Yes."

"This is where you'll demand something in return for it, right?" Ana flashed a crooked grin. "Or I suppose I'll have to win it back?"

Kamilah rolled her eyes, waving away the bait. "I'll give it to you when we get back."

"How generous. Thank you."

Ana kept the smile on her face, though her gaze fell to Kamilah's hands, where she rubbed a thumb over her fingers. The wedding band Kamilah had worn when Ana first returned home, had been missing since she'd moved back. The sight had sent a wistful pang through her, then she started wondering where it was, and why Kamilah had taken it off then. Perhaps she'd really meant it, and treated Ana as gone for good until she returned from her personal mission.

Biting the inside of her lip, Ana felt yet another trickle of regret, before pushing it down. The weight of her wedding band seemed to press harder on her chest, where she still wore it on a fine chain around her neck. Did Kamilah even know Ana still wore hers? Or did she think Ana had taken hers off as well?

Her eye flickered back to Kamilah's hands once more, and made a promise to win the ring back. The right one.

It had bothered Ana at first, the way her family was stuck in a limbo after her appearance had thrown them for a loop. But their awkwardness started to amuse Ana; after all, it was a clear sign they were trying to smooth things over with her, instead of pushing her back out with their initial...hostility. She appreciated their efforts, if anything, and made sure to bite her lip whenever Fareeha missed a beat in their interactions and scurried off to gather herself.

It seemed to come naturally for Kamilah – not that it was surprising, given all her time spent mediating between the stubborn fools in her family. She smiled, responded to Ana's jokes, and allowed Ana to drift closer when Fareeha had run off on her own again. Kamilah always did go easy on her wife – despite vehement protests to the contrary – and Ana, selfish as she thought of herself, could only feel grateful for Kamilah's soft spot when their fingertips threaded together during a walk through a crowded market. All the tentativeness of a new couple, underlined by years of marriage; Ana couldn't help but savour its bittersweet tang on her tongue.

Their stay in Aswan was laidback; though the city had changed since their last visit, Ana and Kamilah had already seen the sights which Fareeha hadn't the chance to. So their daughter took the reins, pulling ahead to scout roads and landmarks, then hurrying back with a bounce in her heels, to steer her mothers towards whatever had caught her eye that time. It brought back long-forgotten memories of a young girl in Zurich, trying to scurry down every other street corner and explore any shop which looked interesting, only to be held back by the hand, pouting up at her mothers.

Apparently Ana had smiled so much in her reminiscence that it earned her a raised brow from Fareeha, who turned away when Ana offered an enigmatic shrug.

They spent their last night lounging by the river, one family among many others, with packets of food laid on the floor between them. Their day had been spent on a felucca, Ana and Kamilah reclining on a pile of cushions, while Fareeha dangled her legs over the boat's edge, and narrowed eyes at her mothers when told not to jump into the waters. If anything, dinner by the Nile was a fitting end to the day, though being this close to the waters didn't help stop the sensation of waves bobbing beneath Ana's feet.

"You still have a few days off when we head back, right?" Kamilah asked, biting off a corner of flatbread.

"Yeah," Fareeha replied, muffled through a mouthful of sandwich.

"Wanna go quad biking?"

Fareeha's eyes lit up. "Really? It's been a long time since we went." Then she swallowed, and peered at Kamilah in thought. "Uh, but are you…"

"Am I what?"

"Are you...above the age limit–?" Fareeha broke off in a cackle when Kamilah whacked the top of her head – gently, of course.

"I'm only 60, rascal."

"'Only'."

"You'll eat your words when I leave you behind in the dust," Kamilah sniffed.

"Sure," Fareeha laughed. She reached for the baklava, then frowned when she found it empty. "Mm, I'll get more sweets."

"Only for yourself, little one," Ana warned. "We're both at our limit."

"We'll see," Fareeha drawled, jumping to her feet.

As the girl made for the market, Ana took a gulp of warm tea, washing the dense sweetness left on her tongue by the last bite of baklava. She hid a groan at her little excess, setting her cup beside the small haul they'd gotten from the market after their felucca ride. There was a wooden falcon carving Fareeha had snapped up on sight, a pair of shades and skin cream for Kamilah, and a porcelain tea set which Fareeha handed over to Ana wordlessly before diving into the market crowd again.

Wiping her fingers on a tissue, Ana snuck a glance at Kamilah, who gazed at passing ships in comfortable silence. Hesitance lodged a question in her throat, and she swallowed when Kamilah locked eyes with her, head tilted.

Staring, Ana realised with a grimace, but she shot a smile in reply.

"You...remember that chat we had? About how we got here?"

Kamilah nodded slowly.

"If you knew back then, what would happen to us… Would you still have married me?"

Kamilah stared at her for the longest time. "You have no idea how much I want to say no, I wouldn't have. But I've always been a fool when it comes to you."

Ana broke into a crooked smile. "Must be my influence."

"It really is," Kamilah said flatly. "I've thought about it often, actually. Trying to convince myself that I would've said 'no'. Then I'll remember that I wouldn't have any of this – my family, Fareeha – without you."

"You would've found a way," Ana said softly.

"Maybe. Maybe not."

Ana's throat tightened, remembering a confession made in the dark of night, Kamilah's eyes blank but shimmering. She reached out, clasped Kamilah's hand firmly, nerves soothed by fingers which curled over hers as well.

"You give yourself too little credit, Milah."

"I do," Kamilah deadpanned, smile flickering over her lips. "I haven't broken your fingers, after all."

Ana laughed. "I–" She cut herself off, heart skyrocketing when she realised what she'd nearly said. "I...am grateful."

"You should be."

"Then you have my eternal gratitude for your mercy, my Queen." Ana draped a thumb over Kamilah's knuckles, pressing her lips on the buffer.

She caught a glimpse of a smirk on Kamilah's face, before the moment was broken with a groan.

"Alright, stop being weird." Fareeha took her place beside Kamilah, and set a clear plastic container between them, in which was a white-frosted cake. "I found this in a bakery."

She cut into the cake with a plastic knife, lifting a slice to reveal the rainbow layers inside.

"Oh damn, I forgot! I wanted to buy these when I came home."

"You're old," Fareeha shot back, handing a slice on a paper plate to Kamilah.

"Milah, I'm starting to think our daughter is prejudiced against old people."

"We should confiscate her bike until she learns her lesson."

"I'm 32!"

"And we're 60."

Fareeha inhaled dramatically, holding air in her puffed up cheeks, and blew a giant raspberry.