Warning: this chapter includes fairly heavy drinking, discussion of grief, abusive relationships and domestic violence.

oOo

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Support

"Ha! That's a royal flush!" Vidalia cried, slamming the cards down on the table.

Her friends erupted into groans as they pushed their chips towards her. Barb glared from over her straight flush. Vidalia met the glare with a bright smile.

"Aw, now don't be sad," she said. "I'm sure y'all will win later. And this next round's on me."

There were some eyerolls as Vi grabbed a handful of beers from her own fridge. She never got tired of that joke.

"You've gotta get some new material," Donald said.

"And you've gotta update your menu, Fryman," Vidalia shot back.

Fryman winked. "Don't need to change perfection."

"You said it first." Vi shrugged, balancing the cans in her arms. Three for herself, Barb, and Donald. Nanefua and Kofi would probably have something if they managed to show up after closing the restaurant. She glanced over at Greg. "Yo, rockstar. Can I get ya something?"

Greg regarded her with an inscrutable expression for a moment, and then grinned. "You know what? Sure. Hit me up."

"'Bout time," Vidalia said with a laugh, tossing him a can to replace his empty one. Greg must've been to over a dozen of these get-togethers, and never once had she seen him drink more than a single beer. Kind of a letdown, in her opinion. What sort of rockstar didn't booze it up?

(Apparently the same kind who'd retire to a random seaside town to hang out with a bunch of regular schmoes).

Saturday Card Nights were a regular event for the boardies. They couldn't arrange them every week, but they did their best to have one at least every month, with rotating hosts and rotating guests. Yellowtail and his crew would join whenever they were home. Sometimes Harold would stop by, sometimes Suitcase Sam, and folks were always welcome to invite friends. Kept things fresh and interesting.

The night wore on. Hands were won and lost, junk food was consumed, stories were exchanged. Vi had tales of some pompous rich jerk who was trying to commission her, but changed what he wanted every couple of days. Donald had her doubled-over laughing as he explained how Ronaldo had almost gotten the shop burned down in his attempt to make a deep-fried Oreo sundae. Barb, as usual, had dozens of ridiculous stories, but the best one by far this week was the old lady who'd tried to ship a live cat.

Their conversations flowed easily between them, punctuated only by the occasional bang overhead. Sometimes, Donald or Greg would look up with concern and ask if everything was okay.

"Sure, sure," Vidalia would say, waving her hand and selecting a card. "The kids are just playing."

This didn't seem to reassure Greg, and when his son appeared in the living room doorway with a snake wrapped around his neck, Vi half expected the guy to flip his lid. But instead, he seemed to relax, and asked Steven if he was having fun with his new friends.

"Yep!"

"How about you, Onion?"

Onion stared back at her and reached out to stroke his snake's head.

Oh yeah. He was having a blast.

Of course, the kids' fun had to end. It was getting late, and not long after, Vi told Onion it was time for him to go to bed. He protested a little, but she reminded him he had school the next day, and eventually he relented.

"Yeah, it's time for us to head off too, kiddo," said Greg, getting up from his third beer and stretching.

Donald raised his eyebrows. " You don't have to head off, Greg. It's only eight."

"Ah, yeah, but—" Greg began.

"I can get back to the van myself Dad, don't worry," Steven said. "It's only five minutes away."

"...Yeah, okay," Greg said. "But don't you go running off before giving your old man a bedtime hug, okay?"

Steven blushed blue, but wrapped his Dad around the waist. Vi couldn't help but grin to herself. It was amazing she hadn't realized the guy was a parent before. It came so naturally to him.

Fifteen minutes later, Steven was off and Onion was tucked in. The adults all gathered back around the table for another hand. (And some more drinks. Now that it was officially 'after-hours', Vi had brought out some of the good stuff.)

"So," said Donald, at length, as Barb dealt out the cards. "School on Sunday?"

Vi ducked her head out of a strange flush of embarrassment. "Only until noon."

"Oooh yeah. This is that new school you're sending Onion to, right?" Barb said, pushing Vi's hand towards her. "How's he liking it?"

"He's… enjoying it," said Vi, carefully. "He talks to me a lot about his classmates and teachers. They're good people."

"That's great," said Greg, and everyone chorused their agreement.

There was a brief silence as everyone studied their cards.

"But it's turning out well?" asked Barb. "I know you weren't too sure…"

That was an understatement. Vi had seriously resisted the idea of sending Onion to a 'special' school, and not just because of the higher price tag. The whole concept grated her. She hadn't exactly been a topnotch student in her day. Had spent practically every moment she could in highschool trying to get out of the place, and usually getting into all kinds of trouble along the way. Last thing she'd wanted was to force Onion into that system until he had to. Kids needed room to express themselves.

But she'd seen the place for herself. No carefully organized rows of desks, no hours of droning lectures, no endless, pointless tests. The place had small class sizes, options to sit in bean bag chairs, lots of art time, and sports outside. Just the type of thing a growing boy needed.

Just the type of thing Onion needed, she was forced to admit. A lot of folks… well, treated him weird. And that was unfair. But the teachers at this place were trained, and were trained well. They were teaching him coping mechanisms without forcing him into some tidy box. He got to hang out with other kids, ones that were like him, and he really did seem to be liking it.

Plus, it was keeping Harold from complaining about thievery every other week, so there was that.

Still, it wasn't the easiest topic for her to talk about, and the others must've seen that, because Barb was quick to steer the conversation. "So how about Steven, then? School holidays in Korea, I assume?"

"Uh, no." Greg shuffled his cards around. "Steven's actually homeschooled."

A few eyebrows shot up around the table.

"Oh?" said Donald. "Don't like the Korean system or something?"

"No, no, nothing like that. We just… weren't sure how well he'd do in a traditional school."

Vi nodded silently as she moved a two of hearts next to a queen. From what she'd seen today, Steven had seemed like a pretty regular kid, friendly and polite. But she also knew that this type of stuff wasn't always immediately obvious.

She wouldn't have poked her nose into it, but she could see how tightly Greg was gripping the cards, could see the tight grimace on his face. Worry. Uncertainty. She'd certainly been there. Putting on a casual tone, she said, "Well, there are other options, ya know. I've got some research I could pass along, if ya want."

"Thanks, Vi." Greg heaved out a sigh. "But… it's more complicated than that."

A brief silence as people played their cards and moved chips around.

"... 'More complicated' how?" asked Barb, never one to beat around the bush.

"It was… It was just something his mother wanted," Greg mumbled into his hands.

Everyone else exchanged glances around the table. None of them had said it aloud, but all of them had been wondering about who Steven's other parent was.

"Cultural thing," Greg added. "Wanted to make sure Steven knew his heritage…"

Nods all around.

"Makes sense," said Donald. "Like how Nanefua made sure the twins took those Akan classes growing up."

It did make sense. But 'sense' didn't match the miserable look on Greg's face. The man took a swig of whiskey, and said, "Look… it's more than that. Steven's Mom— Blue— wasn't just from another country. She was an alien."

"Illegal?" Barb blurted out.

Greg shook his head, and Vi got it.

"You mean literally," said Vi, leaning back in her seat. "Like, an actual space alien."

Greg nodded.

In a lot of places, this woulda been dismissed out of hand as lunacy, especially coming from a guy who had literally made his fortune singing 'bout space. But most places weren't Beach City. They'd had more than their fair share of weird stuff.

"It's the magical ladies, ain't it?" said Barb. "The Crystal whatevers. Is that what they really are? Aliens?"

Greg swallowed another mouthful of alcohol, and buried his face in hands. From there came a muffled, "Yeah."

"I knew it," said Barb, slapping her knee. "You do have a thing with Rose! She's Steven's m—"

Donald gave Barb a warning shove the same second Vi clapped a hand over her mouth.

Barb could be painfully oblivious sometimes.

But Greg didn't respond. Didn't snap at her, didn't correct. His shoulders slumped and he began to shake. Within moments, he was sobbing.

The game was abandoned. Barb, looking chastised, mumbled an apology, and followed Donald's lead in pulling the chairs closer. Vi, who'd never been good at just sitting and listening, got up to make tea, to feel useful. Greg spilled out a story, and when he finally finished his glass of whiskey, Vi was there to push a hot mug of earl gray into his hands.

The details were pretty hard to believe. Not the part about dating an alien, really, or the stuff about some ancient magical war. That made sense enough. The basics of that were in practically every world religion, and while folks tried to keep away from the dangerous ruins that littered the planet, everyone knew about the strange art on their walls depicting massive battles.

It was just the personal details that were so… so shocking. Rebellion, assassination, slavery. It was the kind of story you'd expect from TV or a thousand-page epic.

But it was coming from a middle aged man, face stained with tears and snot, barely able to make it through a full coherent sentence.

"I jus'... don't know what to do, what to think," Greg slurred. "Blue… I loved her. I still love her. How— how horrible is that? How me-messed up?"

Vidalia played with the end of her tea bag. "I don't think it's messed up." She'd been thinking about some of the guys she'd dated back in the day— some of them had been real nasty pieces of work. She looked up from her cup. "This kind of stuff… it doesn't always make logical sense. You can love someone, even if they were terrible to you."

Greg clearly recognised what she was referring to— she'd told them all some of the stories at some point. Guys who'd been too controlling, who'd used her for money, pressured her into stuff she didn't want.

He shook his head. "No, It's… it wasn't like that, Vi." Running a hand through his hair, he said, "Look, I'm not going to say Blue was the perfect partner… she made mistakes. But she tried. Really, really hard. She never hurt me, or forced me into things or kept me as a— as a—" His voice caught. "Slave.

"But she did that to other people. That, an'... an' maybe a lot worse. It's one thing, forgiving someone for wha' they did to you… but how can I know the stuff she did to others, and still miss her? Still want to talk to her, to hold her…"

There wasn't any way Vi could respond to that but silence.

Donald was the one who broke that silence with a pinched, pained cough. "I— I understand."

Greg looked up at him with bloodshot eyes.

"My wife," Donald said, haltingly, "is not a good person."

Is. Present tense.

Barb reached out and squeezed Donald's hand.

He hardly seemed to notice. His eyes were distant. "She didn't start out that way— or at least, I don't think she did. I've never been able to figure out when she really changed. Guess it was a gradual thing." He gave a hollow laugh. "It's like, that story 'bout the frog in the boiling water, right? I was in denial for a long time. No matter what she did to me, said to me, I told myself things were okay. She was just stressed, angry, I was exaggerating… We could work through it…"

Donald gulped.

"It was when she went after the kids, I realized it had to stop."

Vi hadn't know the Frymans well, back then, but the memories of that time were still painted in her mind, sharp and ugly. The wail of sirens, unusual in Beach City. A woman screaming bloody murder down the boardwalk. Two kids looking more like shadows than anything. The older one with a big, black bruise across his face. Donald holding his sons, shaking, while the police drove away.

She and Yellowtail had brought over a fish casserole a couple days later.

Here and now, in her kitchen, Donald was rubbing his bare ring finger.

"Don," Greg said, "I'm so sorry.'

Donald shook his head. "Don't be. She's locked up for a long time, and good riddance. I'm just saying… Even knowing all that, there are still times where I want her back. Stupid and crazy as that sounds. I miss how she'd sing in the car, or that special poutine she'd make…" He sighed. "If I can still feel that way, even after she hurt our boys, well… I don't think you should be feeling too guilty."

For several long moments, Greg seemed to be at a loss for words. Then he managed to croak out a simple, "Thanks."

Another ugly, painful silence ensued.

"It's… it's not just that, though," said Greg. "It's Pearl."

"The slave," Vi said.

" Ex -slave," Greg stressed.

"Right," Vi said quickly. "Sorry."

Greg waved a hand. "It's fine. Cuz that's the thing. How do I really make sure she knows that she's not a slave? How can I be sure she's not staying with me— with Steven— because she feels ogli— oblig— has to?"

"Tell her?" suggested Barb.

"I tried that," Greg said. "Mucked it up. She just ran away. And since then she's been all… all stiff. I mean— she's always been kinda— kinda formal, but this is different, it's wrong and— arrrrggggghhh!"

Barb patted him sympathetically on the shoulder.

Vi took a long sip of her now-lukewarm tea, mulling the words over. "What exactly did ya say to her?"

"Dunno." Greg stared into his untouched mug. "I dunno. Told her it was wrong to be a slave. I wouldn't let 'er. Later, I told her I'd pay her back for all the work she'd done for us. Not sure if any of it stuck."

Vi chewed on her lip. Then, at length, she said, "Sometimes it's not just about… what you say, but how you say it."

Greg blinked at her. "Wha'dya mean?"

"I mean…" Vi fumbled for the words. She wasn't really good at this stuff. Which had always been part of the problem. She was quick tempered, sharp tongued.

And that was fine with adults, who could understand and hold their own. She'd realized that wouldn't work on Onion. If she raised her voice, said something sarcastic, made a cruel comment in the spur of the moment… He wouldn't understand. Apologies could go a long way to fixing things, but it was all the better to not have to apologize in the first place.

Yellowtail was way better at talking with Onion, at getting on his level. But Yellowtail wasn't around a lot of the time. So Vidalia had had to learn how to work around her natural impulse.

"I guess I mean…" she said, "Well, you clearly care for this Pearl chick. A lot. And judging from what you've told us about her life, that's what she really needs right now. So maybe just… tell her what she means to you. No raised voices or anything. Just… from the heart."

Greg blinked at her again, slowly. "That's… good advice. T-thanks Vi."

"No prob."

Greg was crying a little bit again, but this seemed more like the good tears, it seemed.

Vi wasn't really much of a huggy-feely type, but luckily Barb was. She wrapped an arm around Greg's shoulders and squeezed.

"You don't have to be dealing with this stuff alone," she said. "I mean, the fact that you've been trying to figure this all out for fourteen years…"

"I only found out a few days ago," said Greg.

"Yeah, this evil dictator and slave shit," said Barb. "And I can't really offer much help on any of that. But a partner dying? Figuring out how to raise a kid without her? That I get. I sure didn't get through all that on my own, and you don't have to either."

Greg gave her a watery, grateful smile.

There was more discussion then, accompanied with more tea. Talk of hooking Greg up with the grief-group that met every month or so in Ocean Town. About doing some research online about this kinda stuff. About making it clear that he always had some open shoulder to lean on, if he just needed a chance to vent.

But Vi figured that right then, there was one other thing the guy really needed.

"Wanna go throw a shit ton of paint at a blank canvas?" she asked.

Greg stared at her for a moment, then broke into a slightly hysteric smile. "Yes please."


The smell of peppermint was hot and spicy. Pearl savored its scent, just as she savored the warmth of the cup cradled in her hands.

She couldn't remember the last time she had stopped to take in the moment like this. Life had been steadily growing busier, especially in this past week. That wasn't a bad thing, especially with the progress she and the Renegade had been making on the drill, but it did make quiet moments like this few and far in between.

The background of human sounds formed a pleasing symphony— the distant murmurs of other restaurant patrons, the clink of cutlery, the chewing of food. Pearl had always enjoyed dining out, ever since the first time Greg had taken her to a small Korean cafe. Whether it was in a near-empty hole-in-the-wall, or a fast food joint overflowing with the midday rush crowd such as now... She always liked the community of it. The alienness.

Across from her, Greg looked up at her from his nachos. "Pearl… Are you sure there's nothing else I could get you?"

"No, I am quite fine. I do not need to eat, after all," Pearl reminded him gently.

"I didn't really mean food-wise. Though I will order you more tea if you want!" He added quickly, poking a pile of guacamole nervously. "I meant something… bigger. Like what I talked to you about before."

"Ah," Pearl said, something inside her sinking.

She thought that they had gotten past this. Or she had hoped as much, when Greg had invited her out to help run some errands with him. Now it seemed as though that, as well as the suggestion to stop for lunch, had all been a pretense.

Pearl prided herself on how she could keep her expression perfectly neutral at all times— but it seemed perhaps her skill had degraded during her time on Earth. Or perhaps Greg had learned to read her in a way no Courtesan ever could, because he went, "Oh, no, Pearl, please. I'm not trying to upset you."

She clutched her mug tighter.

Greg sighed, heavily. "I'm… sorry. I never wanted… to scare you, or anything."

It was foolish for a Gem to be scared by anything a human could say to them.

… but to say otherwise would be a lie.

"I accept your apology," said Pearl. "And… I apologize, as well. I should have trusted that you would not wish to dispose of me."

"Oh Pearl..."

Greg was staring at her quite peculiarly, and she could not even begin to decode all the emotions on his face.

"I'm never going to... dispose of you, Pearl. I promise." He smiled, a slight tremble to his lip. "You're family, Pearl. You're like a sister to me."

This, if Pearl understood human culture correctly, was very high praise indeed.

She bowed her head, and blinked rapidly.

"Thank you," she whispered.

She took a few moments to collect herself, and managed to look up. She found that Greg was still staring at her, as though he still had something left to say.

Pearl reached out, and laid her cool hand on top of his soft, warm one.

"I care for you very much as well," Pearl said, and squeezed.

Greg smiled at her. "So… Remember. Family looks after family. And if there's ever anything you need…"

"I will tell you," she said, and did her best to mean it. "But for now, eat. Your food will go cold."

Greg gave a short, scratchy laugh, and it was a beautiful thing to hear.


Blue.

An endless expanse of it. The grey of the seafloor, the dark depths of the ocean, the shimmering veil of light that was the surface…

Lapis simply floated there, taking it all in.

Since being released from the mirror, she'd had the chance to swim through the oceans a number of times, but never once had she stopped to appreciate them. Her mind had been too entirely focused on Steven, on finding him, on watching the Crystal Gems and ensuring that she wasn't noticed.

But that threat was gone, and now she was able to take it all in. It reminded her of when she'd first arrived on Earth, oh so long ago. Her mouth dropping open when she'd spotted the planet, a sphere of blue and white spinning in the void. Shaking her head in sheer amazement when her overseer told her seventy-percent of its surface was covered in water. Being so impatient that she couldn't even wait for the ship's captain to obtain landing coordinates, and just flying to the planet herself, relishing the burn of the oxygen atmosphere against her skin as she'd plummeted towards the massive ocean below...

Oh, if only she'd known what was in store for her.

She let her fists unclench, let the water run through her fingers. It was okay, it was okay. She was free now— free from the mirror and surrounded by water and beauty—and it was all thanks to Steven.

Lapis glanced up, and there he was, eyes hidden behind goggles and cheeks puffed out from holding his breath, waving at her.

She smiled, and with a single flick of her wings, propelled herself up to him.

They burst out into the surface together, Steven gripping onto her forearm to help stay afloat.

"Do you like it?" he asked eagerly.

"I love it," she said, and meant it.

"I knew it!" In his enthusiasm, he slapped the surface, sending up a spray of water. Lapis giggled as it hit her face. "What's your favourite thing down there?"

"You mean, besides the water?"

"Yeah! Like, the coral and the animals and stuff!"

Frankly, Lapis had hardly been paying attention to any of that. Now she dived back under, just to get another look— and yes, it was beautiful, too, in a strange and alien way. Long green growths waving in the currents, schools of silvery fish, creatures which scuttled along the seafloor on many legs, bigger shelled creatures that swam leisurely through the open water… Even without hydrokinesis, they were all as at home in the water as any Lapis Lazuli.

Lapis made sure to return to the surface often, both not to leave her Diamond alone and to listen to his excited explanations about each animal. It was amazing just how much he knew about them.

"I've just read about them in books and seen them on TV," he said, "but this is the first time I've ever been so close."

She felt really stupid and selfish then.

"What are you doing?" Steven asked, as Lapis summoned a huge wave to rise above his head.

"You'll see!"

The wave crashed over him.

But didn't touch him. Instead, it formed a sphere of air around him, a bubble. Steven stared at her, eyes wide, as she willed the bubble to sink beneath the surface. Deeper and deeper and deeper, right into one of those fish schools, which darted around in startled confusion.

Lapis stuck her head into the bubble, grinning broadly. "Do you like it?"

"I love it!"

Keeping a bubble of air suspended in water was much more difficult than the opposite. Lapis had to focus so it didn't dissolve into a dozen smaller bubbles streaming upwards, or so that Steven didn't just sink through the air-pocket's floor. It was a bit of a challenge, requiring more finesse than brute power, but one she relished.

It gave her and Steven the freedom to explore as they pleased. Lapis could bring him near any plant or animal he wanted (or almost any, since a lot of the animals had a tendency to swim away). He could reach out a hand to pet them, or she could stick a head in to listen to him ramble about their diets, their lifespan, what they'd evolved from…

Then out of the ocean came the most curious clicking and squeaking noises.

Lapis spun around just in time to see the animals approach. Nearly a dozen of them, almost all larger than herself, sleek and grey and gliding through the water, right at them

Were they dangerous? Steven said some animals ate humans! She balled her fists, preparing to destroy them if necessary.

"Dolphins!" Steven yelled, grabbing her hand and flashing the biggest of smiles. "Lapis, look! Dolphins!"

Most of the underwater animals kept away from them, but not these so-called dolphins. They swam in eager circles around them, poking their heads into Steven's air-bubble before dashing away, letting out a series of shrieks that even to Lapis, sounded confused and excited. They practically turned the water white, with how quickly they swam around the pair of Gems. It was dizzying.

"Can you understand them?" Lapis said, sticking her head back in the bubble, fighting to sound calm.

"Yeah!" said Steven. "Really, really clearly! Pretty much as well as any Gem or human!"

She lashed her wings. "What are they saying?"

"All sorts of stuff." He laid his ear against the side of the bubble, and his eyes went glassy as he tried to process all the cries and shrieks. "They're saying... They're saying it's so cool, how we carry our air, and they want us to try to teach them." Lapis giggled. "One of them, he's really young, I think, wants to play with me, and a bunch of others say you sound weird—"

"I sound weird?"

Steven nodded. "Yeah. They don't mean like, your voice. They're talking about your body, I think. It's not like other animals'. Because they can... they call it 'sound seeing', we call it echolocation—"

"Oh," said Lapis. The sound waves they released with their shrieks were bouncing off her body, showing just how different it was from the squishy, fleshy, organ-filled sacks of every other living being they must have previously encountered. For the first time, she really wished that she had Steven's omnilingualism, so she could explain this for herself. Instead, all she could ask was for Steven to relay it.

"Can't," he said, shaking his head. "My voice— it gets all muffled by the water, they barely understand anything I say…"

He seemed genuinely put-out by this, though the set-back wasn't enough to dampen either his or the dolphins' enthusiasm for each other. The situation was solved soon enough, regardless. Steven's air bubble was getting too low on oxygen and too high on carbon dioxide, so a return to the surface was necessary. By happy coincidence, it seemed that dolphins needed to breathe air as well, so they came with the Gems. Up there, Steven and the animals could communicate freely.

(Lapis couldn't help but wonder, however, what kind of creatures would choose to live in a place that would cause them to die if they couldn't get out of it fast enough.)

The dolphins would each nose at him, poking him curiously, something Steven didn't seem to mind at all. He was a good swimmer, but he was also quite content to wrap an arm around a fin and let the animal support him as they chatted.

Lapis, with much hesitation, asked Steven if it would be okay for her to touch them. Steven relayed the question and said it would be fine. She tentatively stroked the nearest animal.

It felt… well, she couldn't say, 'nothing like she'd been expecting', because she wasn't sure what she'd been expecting. Surely nothing like a human. It was almost more like the texture of a Gem's skin than anything. Very smooth and hard. Not hard like a rock, but a material humans called 'rubber', which had a little bit of give to it. It was a rather pleasant sensation, and Lapis couldn't help but poke at it.

The dolphin poked her back, startling a laugh out of her.

Steven was so caught up communicating with his new friends, and Lapis in watching them, that none of them noticed someone else had arrived to join them.

Rose Quartz.

"Oh, what's this?" she exclaimed, as the dolphins tittered around her. "I saw you all swimming off the coast and I just had to come and investigate."

"Dolphins," said Lapis, flatly.

"Hey Rose," said Steven a bit more politely, but with nothing near to the same enthusiasm he had when talking to animals. "Um, yep, these are dolphins. This one is Eq'qu'lik, and she's Eeeeee!rik, and he's S'ree—"

"Oh, so you can understand them as well? What are they saying?"

Steven, at least, was quite content to talk about this. He spoke at length about what the dolphins were telling him, occasionally quoting them directly: About which areas had the most fish and how they migrated based on the seasons. About how they liked humans, but disliked their boats, which were loud and could sometimes hurt them. About how most humans didn't understand them no matter how clearly they explained themselves, and just how refreshing it was to speak with one who had working ears and perhaps he could do something about all those things that kept being dumped into the water.

Lapis only half listened. She kept her eyes trained on Rose Quartz.

Not that she could do anything out here, surrounded by water and without her sword.

Then Steven said that Eq'qu'lik had offered to take him for a swim underwater. Lapis could hardly tell her Diamond 'no', especially not when he promised he wouldn't go far and gave her the biggest, most pleading eyes ever.

But she was not happy when he disappeared beneath the waves, leaving her behind with the Crystal Gem leader.

The two of them floated in the water, in strained silence.

After a few moments, Rose Quartz asked, "I understand your gem was cracked, Lapis Lazuli. How is it now?"

"Fine," said Lapis. No thanks to you.

"If you like, I could take a look at it. My fountain can sometimes be less effective than application of fresh tears, I'd be more than happy to address any chips that might—"

"I said it's fine," Lapis Lazuli snapped.

"Ah," said Rose Quartz, looking down at the water.

Another long silence.

"I am quite sorry," Rose Quartz said.

Lapis Lazuli wasn't sure what she would say to that, and was thankfully saved by Steven and the dolphin's return only moments later.

The dolphins couldn't stay much longer, Steven explained: they still needed to feed for that day. The sun was getting low in the sky, which allowed Lapis to make an excuse of their own: Steven needed to eat. Technically, his 'dinner time' was still a fair ways away, but Steven made no remark on it, and Rose Quartz accepted this with a smile, and a "Perhaps we could do this again sometime."

"Y-yeah," Steven stammered.

Lapis said nothing.

She picked Steven up in her arms, and summoned a swift wave for them to ride back to shore. Even once they reached there, Steven complained that he was tired, so Lapis happily carried him. He was a warm, satisfying weight, the regular pattern of his breathing soothing.

While she had no intention of returning to the ocean with Rose Quartz, the time before that had certainly been enjoyable. She'd love to go swimming with Steven again. And Pearl too, if she could be dragged away from the drill. She'd probably find the corals beautiful…

"Hey Lapis?" Seven said, as they approached the van.

"Hm?"

"Are there oceans on other planets?"

"Few as big as this one, but yeah."

"Could you tell me about them?"

"Of course…."

oOo

Authors' Note: The backstory for Ms. Fryman was borrowed from the collective minds of CoreyWW, BarracudaHeart and TheLoneFryman. If you want more of an exploration of that stuff, we encourage you to check out their work.