Hey all! I hope you didn't begin to think I abandoned you. :3 It's been an interesting ten days. I went to the doctor and found out I had developed bronchitis from the initial upper respiratory infection I caught just before I started writing this fic. I've been sick for a week and a half, so I'm still recovering. It's harder for me to recover, and easier for me to get sick, because of my chronic illness, but I try not to let it affect me too much. That only goes so far, though, because it has real physical consequences for me. Anyway, I've also had some news lately that might really turn out to be awesome, but I won't know for a few days, so cross your fingers for me please. :) I really need it to turn out in my favor, and I think I'm actually more excited than I thought I would be.
As far as this story, you might be happy with where things are finally going, lol. ;3 Maybe. Or you might feel more frustrated, who knows? This next update will be approximately 20,000 words spread across four chapters. Let that sink in for a moment. I was originally shooting for two normal chapters, and one turned out that way (about 3-4k, around 10 pages, etc.; I normally have 2500-5000~ and anywhere from 8-15 pages). The other one, though…it just kept getting longer and longer. By the time I got to the end, I was suddenly staring at a massive 40 page, 16k+ mammoth that I had to then edit! And because I didn't learn, I started writing the next part, too! XD So in short, everything took so damn long because the update is a massive monster and because I have been ill for a bit and trying to get better. Try not to be too hard on me, yeah?
-The Druid Is In/Domino
PS: CW mentioned dream nudity, not technically nsfw but also I guess nsfw? It's not smut, anyway. Not yet. ;3 As always, translations are in an endnote.
Chapter Summary: In which Rick, Phoebe, and Morty go to a bazaar to have a calm family outing sans mortal peril (but don't quite succeed) and Phoebe starts working through her feelings and recalling an... interesting...dream she's been having. The lead-up to (and semi-reason for) the party.
…
May, A Week After Being to The Citadel
She considered the sight in front of her thoughtfully, more than a little excited to explore. "So it's like a... a space bazaar?"
"Eh, sort of." Rick shrugged beside her and uncapped his flask, taking a quick swing. At his other side, Morty looked as excited as she did. They'd all wanted something calm to do after their close encounter the previous week, so they decided to visit a quiet planet by the name of Althar. Phoebe had wanted to bring Edana along for the ride, but with Tammy coming over that afternoon to study with Summer, the bubbly android had needed to stay behind to guard the lab.
Phoebe, not wanting to be caught off guard again and driven by her need to be better able to protect Rick and Morty, had bought more clothes that were perfect for concealing weapons so that she could wear them every day. Who knew when they would be abducted again, after all? So she stockpiled more skirts and dresses with concealed pockets, each made of breathable and lightweight fabric. She bought flowing jackets and sweaters with deep inner pockets that she could use to store weapons and her portal gun even if she wore her "casual" clothes. She never wanted to find the three of them in such danger again. She would be beyond beside herself if Rick or Morty died because she had her guard down. Rick had thoughtfully watched her carry her purchases past him. Later that day, he'd presented her with three new, clean lab coats, pressing the bundle of white fabric into her hands with understanding in his eyes. She'd accepted them without protest, nodded, and smiled grimly, then together they'd filled the pockets with spare tools and weapons.
Today Phoebe wore one of her newer outfits—a red dress with a high mandarin collar edged in gold and extensive floral patterns stitched in the same shining gold thread over a pair of black leggings— underneath one of the lab coats recently gifted to her. The lab coat was loose enough on her frame that it hung smoothly over the swords strapped to her back without highlighting their shape. She shaded her eyes against the sun as they took in the vast and winding network of stalls, each selling their own specialized array of wares: spun cloth, stones, street food, fruits and herbs, spices, dyes, miniature trees, rugs, perfumes, and other things, including an android repair booth. She thought she spotted what looked like a pastry stall across from a place selling what would be known as dumplings and noodles back on earth.
Phoebe lowered her hand, peering around at the different aliens passing by them. "We should stick together, avoid being separated." She glanced at Morty momentarily, then turned to Rick. "Even if you and I lose sight of each other, one of us has to stick with Morty." Although the teen had proved that he was not, in fact, as helpless as they had assumed in the past, she was still loath to leave him alone in a strange place, though undoubtedly her hesitation would fade with time. Besides, Morty had shown his resourcefulness, succeeding even when she and Rick had failed.
"I know better than to leave Morty unsupervised when we're off-planet," Rick drawled nonchalantly.
Morty swelled with indignation. "H-hey! Don't act like I didn't save your ass just last week, Rick!"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I still say you shouldn't get too cocky, Morty. You're not—you're not a member of the Justice League now, Morty. Everyone can have their day once in their life."
Morty crosses his arms, a scowl on his face. "You just can't admit you needed my help, can you, Rick?"
Phoebe decided to cut in before things devolved into a full-blown argument. "I think he just doesn't want you to think that just because you did it you're suddenly invincible. You could become overconfident and overplay your hand next time." You could rush into a dangerous situation full of bravado and get yourself killed, Phoebe said to herself. Or get Rick killed.
She bit the inside of her cheek to keep her mind off of the man in question. The evening after their confrontation with the evil Rick and Morty and their flight from, and subsequent return to, the Citadel, Phoebe had laid in bed going over the day's events. As she ran over the conversation she had with the other version of herself during Rick's 'trial', the image of Council Phoebe rose into her mind unbidden. Her sad smile swam into focus as Phoebe replayed the scene:
"But some of us more than like our Rick," she murmured, her thumb absentmindedly rubbing at one of the fingers on her left hand. It had a suspicious tan line near the base. "Mine died, and while I could claim another Rick, I just don't have the heart. None of them are my Rick. You understand." She looked between Phoebe and her Rick.
It was then that she realized that Council Phoebe had been married to her Rick, and that he'd then died sometime thereafter. The knowledge that at least one Phoebe, Council Phoebe, married her Rick, and therefore likely had both a romantic and sexual relationship with him, sent her mind spiraling. She had so many questions, and it made her wonder things. Could she ever feel that way about her own Rick? Did she already? She forced herself to really consider what she thought of him and how, coming to the conclusion that she found him attractive and had for a long time. By itself the conclusion meant nothing. Rick was attractive, so what? She was a grown woman, and she could admit that. That didn't mean that they would end up married someday, or even together. It didn't mean that Rick found her attractive (or at least not physically repulsive), nor did it mean that he would reciprocate any romantic inclinations, either. Besides, even if he returned both of those sentiments, that didn't mean he would act on them. Even if he did, even if they both did, so what? What did that mean for them? Would he reject those feelings? Would those feelings tear them apart? She ended up unable to sleep for hours. The following week, she tried not to let the speculations distract her, but the recurring dream that started on the second night made that nearly impossible, and any time their fingers brushed now the squirming fiery snakes she had been feeling before made trails in her stomach and ribcage, squeezing and making a nuisance of themselves. She hoped the wind would blow one way or the other, for better or for worse, to settle the distraction once and for all.
She shook her head to clear it as, humbled and mollified, Morty scuffed his shoe in the dirt, hands shoved into his pockets. "Yeah, I mean I guess."
"No one's immune to harm," Phoebe reminded him seriously, pushing her musings away and managing to smile kindly at Morty. "Me and Rick are just worried about you."
"So don't wander off," Rick rejoined, voice gruff. "The last thing we need is you wandering into an alley alone all half-cocked and getting shanked."
"Gee, thanks, Rick," Morty replied dryly.
Rick rolled his eyes and set off up the street. Phoebe grabbed Morty's hand and quickly followed. After walking for a few minutes, they exchanged the appropriate amount of notes for some sort of pastry, strolling along at their leisure. For the most part, they window-shopped, attempting to gain their bearings and figure out what the bazaar had to offer. They spent at least an hour and a half browsing that way. A few times, however, such as when Phoebe came upon exotic space yarn, or when Rick came upon locally brewed spirits, they were tempted to linger or to buy things on the spot. For those times, they carefully placed things into the pack they'd brought with them, hanging off of one of Phoebe's shoulders.
Both Rick and Phoebe wanted to inspect an array of weapons more closely, but Morty has wanted to check out a stall selling old alien video games. Because of their lingering reluctance to let him out of their sight even for a moment, Phoebe and Rick resigned themselves to following along. Morty stared at one of the games in wonder. "This looks so cool!"
Unimpressed as he scanned the area around them, Rick drawled, "You know that's, like, five years old now, Morty?"
"I don't care, Rick, it looks awesome." He turned hopeful eyes to Phoebe, who had half of their money. Rick carried the other half. "What do you think, Phoebe?"
Phoebe's eyes flicked over to Rick. "An older game would be cheaper than a new release, and if there's a sequel to the ones he likes, this would be a good way to see if he wants to get into the series."
Rick shrugged nonchalantly. "To be honest, Phoebe, I could probably—" belch "—probably make a better system with full backwards compatibility and find the whole set for cheaper than it's being sold here."
Nearby, the stall owner, a giraffe-like being with enormous doe eyes and long lashes, let out a disgruntled grumble. Phoebe took a second to consider his words, then nodded. She turned back to Morty with a gentle smile. "What do you think of that, habibi, if we got them all for you somewhere else? Would you like that?"
"Oh man, I mean, geez, that's—that would be cool, I guess, Phoebe."
Phoebe hugged him to her side with one arm. "Wonderful." They moved away from the games to wander through the crowded streets and check out more of the bazaar, though first they stopped to examine the weapons stall that had caught their interest. Rick purchased a few that they both agreed upon, tucking them inside of the pack on Phoebe's shoulder. The two of them would mod them later in the confines of their shared workspace.
As it turned out, most of the stall owners were quite adept at bartering and just as content to accept trade as they were currency, although what constituted "fair trade" varied from merchant to merchant. The three from Earth C-137 walked up to a stall from which an echidna-like alien sold herbal remedies, supplements, cures, and tinctures just in time to witness a haggling session between the echidna-like alien and one of the pink-skinned blond ones.
Eventually the two came to some sort of agreement. Phoebe inspected the wares as Rick leaned against the edge of the stall and a captivated Morty admired spun-glass figurines being sold one stall over. Phoebe slipped him a few bills to buy one, her sharp eyes still examining the wares in front of her for a few more moments. She took out her phone, opened her notes app, and dictated a brief rundown of what she saw in French. She wanted to do her research before she bought anything, and the book she got at Christmas would be an excellent place to start. As she slipped her phone back into her pocket, Morty wandered over cradling a tightly wrapped figurine that Phoebe then stored in their pack.
She felt a gnaw of hunger in her stomach that had her glancing at Rick and Morty. "If you two are still hungry, would either of you oppose doubling back for those dumplings?"
Morty's stomach just happened to rumble loudly at that point. One hand shot to his midsection and he let loose a nervous chuckle. "Ah, hehe. I—uh…"
Phoebe smirked, eyes bright with amusement and affection. "Well, I guess we have an answer with you, eh, Morty?"
He grinned awkwardly. "Yeah."
Phoebe looked expectantly at Rick. "Rick? What about you?"
"Only if we can get the—" belch "only if we can get the spicy ones."
"Oh, Rick, I don't know if I can handle spicy," Morty objected.
"Why don't we get a large spicy order to share and Morty can get a small one to himself?" Phoebe proposed before the two could squabble about it.
He hesitated a moment, then shrugged. "You're paying for Morty's."
Rick's money came from his bordering on unethical—if not downright illegal—bullshit, some of which Morty and Phoebe had borne witness to or helped him accomplish, such as his harvesting and theft of the poisonous space drugs. Phoebe, of course, made a lot of her own money off of her biofuels than her previous endeavors, and would make even more money off of her perfected hair serum (although she had yet to broach the topic of Rick using it).
Phoebe rolled her eyes but muttered an agreement. The three made their way back to the dumpling stand, where Rick ordered. "Yeah, uh, we want an extra-large order of spicy dumplings, an extra-large order of noodles, three, uh, three of those—" he pointed at the bottled drink lined up to the side "—and a small order of non-spicy dumplings." Rick fished out just enough for his shared order with Phoebe and their two drinks. Phoebe supplemented the amount for Morty's things.
It didn't take long for the vendor to hand out three containers hot to the touch. One was larger and rounder than the others, one was taller and more cylindrical, and a third was the same shape as the first, but smaller. They divided their bounty up between them and carried it all to a cluster of nearby tables off to the side where customers of the street food vendors congregated, managing to find a table for themselves. They started eating in silence, Morty in his own world and Rick and Phoebe keeping an eye on the crowds around them for signs of danger. Thankfully she and Rick both carried around travel chopsticks just in case.
As Phoebe fed the first bit of noodles into her mouth and caught sight of Rick's profile in her peripheral, her musings from earlier roared back to life. The more she ate, the more details of the recurring dream she'd been having every night for the past few days flooded to the forefront of her mind, her stomach twisting up in now-familiar white-hot knots just at the thought of it.
Wherever the dream took place, the lighting was dim, and she was always naked. Phoebe was lying on her side in a bed, tangled in the sheets. As with the last few times, she felt a presence there with her in the gloom, not a threatening one, but rather one that made her feel safe and at ease. She knew who it would be before she turned around, knew the first time. She turned over, coming face to face with a pair of uncanny silvery eyes shining in the low light. The man they belonged to grinned at her crookedly, his wild hair somehow even more unkempt. He reached out to her, cupping her cheek gently with his palm. Her dream self-leaned into the touch, her hand coming to rest on his chest. "Qīn aì de," she murmured.
"Wǒ de xīn gān," he whispered gruffly, his thumb tracing her lips. He leaned forward, gently pressing his lips onto hers, his palm opening up to cradle her face.
"Shǎ guā," she muttered around his lips.
"Bèn dàn," he breathed into her mouth.
His arms encircled her, pulling her closer so that they lay against each other skin to skin. He ended the kiss to nuzzle into her throat, inhaling. Her left hand splayed across his back before she began tracing his spine with her fingers. When he lifted his head, she carefully caught his bottom lip between her teeth and bit down with as little force as possible for about twenty seconds, then she kissed her way down his throat and out toward his shoulder. There, in the dip of his shoulder, she bit down harder but without drawing blood. Almost in her ear he moaned, a few curses exhaled at the end.
She gave a slight push, rolling him onto his back, then sat astride him. Her dream-self smiled teasingly down at him, right into those uncanny silvery depths. "Quieres jugar conmigo?"
He smirked up at her, his hands sliding onto her hips. "Para siempre."
As her dream self leaned down to kiss him again, and as his hand came up to touch the back of her neck, she woke up.
Phoebe's forehead wrinkled and she frowned thoughtfully as she tried to keep watching the people around them on all sides. Even though her conscious mind hasn't admitted it until that point, the dreams told her quite clearly that she might be developing feelings for Rick. She highly doubted they were purely sexual in nature—in fact, she was certain that her stupid heart wanted her to make a fool of herself. Before the Citadel mess and the dreams, she hadn't taken the time to examine any rising crush for her friend, had barely acknowledged it at all. After everything, however… She couldn't be totally sure when it started, though she was beginning to piece things together, and she didn't know what she wanted to do with it—or so she told herself. Mostly, she just couldn't get over that she might have caught feelings for Rick—or that she'd been so blind to them. She could have kicked herself for not realizing what that torturous thrill in her stomach meant. She'd been pining, godsdamnit!
Screams rising up somewhere nearby snapped her out of her musings and memories, bringing her back to the present and their mostly finished meal. Almost as one, she and Rick discreetly drew their weapons, the remainder of their food momentarily forgotten. The people sitting closest to them seemed to have noticed something amiss as well, with some looking around in confusion and fear. The screaming drew closer, and as it did, people began fleeing in the opposite direction, flooding past them. Morty looked inclined to panic along with them. "What in the hell is going on, Rick?"
Just then the cause of the screams came into view as they mowed down the people immediately in front of them. "Fucking Carthagian Raiders," Rick hissed, on his feet in an instant. Phoebe followed him not long after, adrenaline already flowing.
"Oh, man, Rick, this doesn't look good," Morty whimpered.
"It's not, Morty, they're bloodthirsty pricks. Unlike a friend of mine, they don't selectively steal from the wealthy or target weapons shipments. They conduct surface raids on any unlucky ship or planet they come across."
"Well isn't this just fucking wonderful," Phoebe grumbled. "And I was enjoying this meal." She strapped the pack onto her body tightly and grabbed Morty's hand.
He tugged at her. "We-we-we gotta help them, Phoebe!"
"No time, Morty," Rick shook his head. "We need to get out now before they get any closer."
"Not to mention we're outnumbered," Phoebe told him gently. "We have to go."
"But these people—"
"Will live or die without our help," Phoebe finished for him. Of-fucking-course she wanted to help them, but her and what army? Her best-fucking-friend, who she had feelings for, and her unarmed nephew? Rick or Morty could die, and while part of her blazed with fury at the raiders, another part of her was more concerned with protecting Rick and Morty. "We need to get back to the ship."
Nodding, Rick drew his portal gun and fired it off just to the left of them. With his free hand, his fingers wrapped around her lower arm, pulling her and Morty through the portal after them. They stepped out barely an inch from their cruiser. Rick released his hold and they all clambered inside. The doors barely closed before they started ascending, and within minutes they were clearing the atmosphere of Althar. They breathed a collective sigh of relief.
"I guess that was pretty close, Phoebe," Morty acknowledged. "I just wish we could have done something for those people."
"The lucky ones will escape like we did." Rick waved him off with an accompanying belch. "Besides, forces should arrive soon to fend off the raiders."
"That's a relief," Phoebe sighed. "I felt sort of guilty about leaving, but I didn't want anything to happen to the two of you and it was our best option."
"Yeah, well, try not to feel too guilty, Phoebe. They're not—" belch "—they're not defenseless as a planet or a nation. Those were just civilians."
Phoebe placed a hand on the glass as she stared into open space, attempting to stave off a return to her earlier reflection now that they were out of danger. "I just wish we could have had some down time without someone trying to kill us," she murmured.
Rick glanced at her, catching sight of her reflection in the glass. "Well, Beth and Jerry are leaving for that stupid-ass Titanic-themed bullshit. Maybe we could do something then."
Phoebe turned from the window to look at him. "What did you have in mind?"
Rick smirked. "How do you feel about a party?"
…
Habibi = used here between Phoebe and Morty the context makes it translate more like sweetie/honey (even though it's literally 'my love').
Qīn aì de = in Mandarin has the meaning of beloved, darling, kind of like querido (which itself means lover/dear/darling/beloved; sorry for the comparison, but my main non-English language is Spanish).
Wǒ de xīn gān = literally "my heart and liver", but translates to "my heart and soul".
Shǎ guā = literally "silly melon", used to call someone a fool, but can be used as affectionate teasing/term of endearment.
Bèn dàn = again literally means "dumb egg", used to call someone silly/foolish/an idiot, but also can be used as affectionate teasing/term of endearment.
Quieres jugar conmigo? = "do you want to play with me?" :3
Para siempre = always
These last two make me think of a favorite HP fic of mine where the two in the ship always call each other 'git' and 'prat' as terms of endearment. It's just their thing, and they mean it affectionately even though if someone else called them that it would be insulting XD