I was a VxC shipper so I hope you will forgive me if I indulge in the 2 chapters of "Postcards from Mars" that in 2007 I wrote specifically about them. I swear I don't have any more of these in English, so don't worry. The awfull translation is ended.


One year later (first part)

Then, few months after the first anniversary of her arrival on Mars , it just happened. Between her and Vinnie. It happened.

One evening they all gathered at her house, in the garden, for a dinner with old and new friends like they already did so many other times before, organized at the last moment, when everyone brings something to eat and the guys are likely to fuss around to the grid , each of them having his say on everything, from the charcoal, to the cooking time, to the condiments to use, up to the height of the flame, that no, if you want to do a barbecue, there shouldn't be any. Yes instead! No, damn! Hey, careful there, the wind is changing: you are smoking us! Who taught you to cook? The embers! Don't let the embers unattended!
The kind of dinner where, in the background, the DVD player plays a movie that no one follows and you end up eating too much or drinking way too much and you relax like never before, you never look at your watch and laugh to tears, laugh your head off for everything, even the most stupid jokes, surrounded by loved ones, who are laughing with you.

At some point, however, Charlene was back in the house, having threw herself on the sofa: she pulled her feet on, tilted her head back and closed her eyes. "Just a minute to catch my breath" she thought "Maybe two... or three".
She was enjoying the evening, she really was, but she hadn't stopped one minute since dawn (the rumor had spread that the talent with the engines of the young Earthling was remarkable and work was increasing day by day) and honestly, she was beginning to feel the weariness of a very long day. She was also quite convinced that she would never be able to take off her boots from her now aching feet, but that was something she would have worried about at bed time.
For now she was content to relax just for a moment in the silence of that little room, while outside her friends were still knuckling down to the beers and desserts.
"I love this couch" She thought, just instants before napping away.

To wake her, not long after she had fallen asleep, had been the feeling of something incredibly cold leaning suddenly and decisively against her cheek. Something that was horribly wet and was dripping very cold condensation on her skin.

Charlene inhaled sharply and her eyes widened in astonishment and for the not exactly pleasant feeling, but if she had not clearly heard Vinnie's subdued giggle a fraction of a second before feeling the frosted glass on her skin, she would have been probably scared a lot more.
Fortunately for her, however, the boy had never been known for his sneakiness (his more refined idea of a surprise prank since she knew him comprehended explosives, a megaphone, the Ride of the Valkyries mp3, two kilos of garlic and Throttle's underwear): with that giggle escaped from his lips, his friend lost part of the surprise effect.
Charlene opened her eyes to find Vinnie looking down at her, clearly amused and very pleased with himself for his joke. He was leaning on the backrest of the couch, behind her, hands propped on each side of the woman's head and, in one, the bottle of cold beer he pressed against her cheek.
On the face one his crooked smile, a smile that was at the same time childish and braggart, the smile that was always ready to show itself at the oddest times and seemed to be the signature of his face.

"Funny Vinnie. Reeeeeeally funny" she dryly said, while a cold shiver ran down the spine. She glowered, or at least she tried, pretending to be annoyed, as she instinctively brought the back of her hand to the neck, blocking the race of a drop of water that, implacable, was running towards the neckline of her t-shirt.

"Hey honey, you looked flushed! " He sneered, drinking a sip of beer from the bottle. Then he sighed dramatically, adding "The story of my life, my kindness is never appreciated". In the meanwhile, on his face, that lopsided smile was widening progressively "I'm so misunderstood"

"Yeah , right ... " she commented sarcastically.
But the girl's ironic smile slowly turned into a genuine one. It was impossible to resist: you could pretend that Vinnie irked your nerves, that you couldn't stand him anymore, but the truth was that there were times in which you just wanted join his carefreeness, throw your arm around his shoulders and, laughing, head with him wherever -more or less- he wanted to go.

Vinnie wasn't a kid and, even if he constantly played the idiot, surely he wasn't a fool: while constantly joking about his vanity or ego, Charlene never forgot that underneath all that false insensitivity and bravado lurked someone deeper, multifaceted and complex . And yet ... and yet there was something irresistibly fresh in him, a kind of light that shone even in the darkest moments and that probably never changed since he was a child. It was this aspect of him that she always found intriguing in Vinnie. Charlene never confessed anything of this to his friend, but she suspected he already knew.

"Nice evening" Vinnie commented absently, shortly after, looking out the window, at the garden, where the others continued to celebrate the night and seemed to have no intention to conclude so soon that impromptu gathering under the stars of the Martian sky.

" Yeah" Charlene followed his gaze and she was now watching the movements outside of her house.
For a while they simply stayed that way, in peaceful silence, watching Throttle and Carbine dance slowly in the dim light of the lanterns, Modo quietly chatting with a group of old friends from the times of the Plutarkian wars and new colleagues. Probably somewhere Spitfire was still tentatively flirting with him and Rimfire, Charlene could almost see him, sat rigid, extremely confused and embarrassed by such unexpected attention from a girl so young.
Meanwhile someone started singing a song in the ancient Martian language: a man's voice, deep and warm, intoned words that she couldn't yet understand, but it was a beautiful melody and she found herself thinking that this music seemed to caress her and reassure her. She felt at peace and relaxed.

"You were great" Vinnie, still staring toward the garden, spoke so softly, almost whispering to himself, that she barely heard him.
The girl looked up at him again, intrigued by the phrase, but from that spot, if in turn he didn't bend his head toward her, she could only see his chest and chin and, as much as Vinnie had a nice Adam's apple, it wasn't particularly expressive. She did great, in what? In organizing the dinner? It seemed strange. But what did he mean? Was he teasing her perhaps?
In doubt, she mumbled a " Uhhh, thanks ... I think".

Here , it was just after that brief exchange of words, shortly after that moment. As if it was a gesture they often did: he turned to her and suddenly his eyes were a little different, it was like... Charlene would have never known how to describe it , but it was as if in that moment she had seen in him a different person and, at the same time , paradoxically, someone closer to the real Vinnie .

There had been another smile. Quiet, confident and sweet, a smile she knew she was returning, identical . The boy leaned slowly toward her while she, at the same time, was sitting slightly more upright on the couch, just stretching the neck with equal serene fluency so that their mouths met halfway. The kiss was gentle and relaxed, lips just pressed together for a few instants, gently and doubtlessly. It was a kiss not different from many others exchanged over the years, chaste gestures of friendship, greeting or playful teasing under the mistletoe. But this time there was a new meaning that in that moment they both accepted as if it was the most obvious, natural thing in the world and when the kiss ended, a few moments later, neither of them was embarrassed or felt uncomfortable. "How many Rakaji's spicy wings did you eat?" Charlene asked him. The boy's breath betrayed his gluttony and she could smell the aroma and flavor of that exotic dish on his skin. "A few" he replied laconic, without giving any further explanations if by that "a few" he meant a couple or two dozens. Charlene suspected two dozens. " What do you think, shall we go back to the garden?" .

Without drama and without fireworks, the first kiss between the human and the Martian took place in the privacy of her home, in the most simple and serene of the possible ways; together they reached the others outside, without feeling the need to talk about what just happened. After all, what was there to say that they haven't already known for ages?
One moment they were friends, best friends , and the moment later... they still were.

Simply they were also something else.