Disclaimer: I don't own Steven Universe!
Title: These Things Happen, Somehow.
Summary: Connie and Steven work on the Centipeetle's ship.
Warnings: Fluff with acid-spitting corrupted gems.
...
"Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to please not drool right next to me. I respect that it's compulsory, but... ma'am. Ma'am, I will burn. Ma'am!"
Steven, wrapped in a full-bodied hug of insect limbs, giggles. "I think she likes you!"
"Steven, she could kill me." Connie, clad in long sleeves and gloves with a matching pair of black leggings, still seems nervous as the one nearest to her nuzzles her spine in a friendly manner. "Thank you, ma'am, but I'm just here to fix a hole. Careful, ma'am, the acid. MA'AM."
"They're harmless, I swear. Here, let me..." Steven struggled a moment. "Never mind. I think I've been relegated to snuggle duty. Captain's orders."
Connie resisted the urge to roll her eyes and crouched to thrust her fingers through the hole.
"I think it was the drool. Ma'am!" She jumped when a gurgle informed Connie of the culprit. "That's it. If you keep this up, I'll stop calling you ma'am, ma'am."
"I think they'd prefer that." Steven chipped in helpfully. "Are you gonna be okay fixing it on your own?"
"Mmhmm." Connie patted the Centipeetle's beak distractedly, brow furrowed at the challenge ahead of her. "Pearl has been giving me lessons on fixing things. I've got this. Ma'am, why don't you go snuggle with Steven? I'll get finished that much quicker, and he can do his duty."
"No!" He cries, cackling, as the creature clicks with joy and and crawls his general direction. "I'm gonna die of over-snuggling!"
"Better you than me, my friend." She stated, sitting down now and pulling the toolbox closer.
"Connie?"
"No."
"Connie, I know it's late-"
"Steven, it's two in the morning. No."
Connie hears something be repelled by his shield. "Please, Connie? They're scared of you."
"Steven, listen to me. Let the Centipeetles deal with the coyotes."
"But the acid'll kill them!"
"I'm not coming by this early again. I'm still healing from the last time. Besides, my parents will kill me."
There's a pause. A coyote whimpers in the background.
"I could heal you." He offers.
"Sure. Later."
Steven whined her name once again. Connie felt bad, but she knew she had to be firm.
"They're going to get in no matter what we do. We could patch every hole in that spaceship; it'll only start to deteriorate when we're gone. Let them handle it."
"They'll kill them!"
"Not if we bring them a constant source of food. It'd be too much of an effort. I'm going to bed now. Goodnight."
Connie knows her mother is trying, but it's hard to focus on her work when she sits right next to her and reads over her shoulder. Still, it's better than having her shadow her while training with Pearl. That would be... disastrous. Better homework than weapons.
"Connie, dear?" That was her father's voice, high-pitched and strained.
"Dad?"
"There's, uh... there's something on the porch." There was a crash, a hissing noise, and her father let out a shriek, falling over himself to get to the supposed safety of the living room.
Wide-eyed and slack-jawed with fear, he panted; "Go get your sword. Now."
The use of that sentence, one she never imagined in her wildest daydreams, in any context, made her head spin. "Yes, sir."
Connie made sure to keep calm as she bounced up the stairs. She was certain that, should she allow her confusion to settle, the already surreal situation would down spiral further.
She isn't allowed to keep Rose's sword in her home- not that she wants to- but a simple blade and scabbard touches her closet door, and she drapes the strap across her thin shoulder. She gingerly glides down the steps.
Connie doesn't know whether to be thankful or disappointed when the familiar visage of a Centipeetle registers in the half-light of the quickly disappearing evening.
"Wait, mom-" Priyanka lowers the cellphone, two-thirds of the way through dialing 911. "It's friendly."
The woman's brow creases. She seems to be judging her daughter's mental stability, and finding it lacking. "Friendly?"
"Friendly." She agreed. "I promise. Hold this, please."
Connie slowly tugs open the screen door, pausing when the gem jerks, continuing when it lets out an affectionate chirp. Her mother's fingers tighten around the scabbard as she steps, unarmed, into the yard.
"Connie, wait- are you sure it's safe?"
"Yes, mom, I'm sure." She assured. "It's one of Steven's pals. I dunno how she got here, but..." She held out a hand to make soothing gestures to the creature. It untangled itself, wrapping around her legs. Connie was forced into a sitting position. She didn't bother trying to get out of it's grip. "Mom?"
"What?"
"Two things. One, may I borrow your phone?"
"To call Steven?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Fine, then." She began fishing through her pockets. "And the other thing?"
"In my room- under the bed. There's a bag of chaaaaps. Steven left them yesterday. Go get them, please."
Her voice took on a tone of disapproval. "You weren't planning on eating those things, were you?"
"Yes, ma'am." She shrugged sheepishly.
"Connie!" Priyanka sounds scandalized. "They're horrible for you! You need to keep up a healthy diet. Do you want to fall out of shape in the midst of taking sword lessons?"
"Sorry, mom. At least, this way, they'll be useful, right?"
Priyanka huffs but hands over the phone, tip-toeing back inside. Her father watched her soothe the corruption uneasily.
"What is that sound?"
"The acid, probably." She answered nonchalantly. The Centipeetle purred, lime green drool slowly dripping to the grass with a hiss.
"It spits acid?" Doug seemed torn between sprinting across the space to grab her or hold his hands up and back away slowly, trusting in her own ability. "Connie, get away from that thing!"
"It's safe, dad, I promise." Connie hoped, at least.
She waited until her mother returned with the snack food to keep the corrupted gem busy to call Steven's phone. It clicked in two rings.
"Connie? Thank goodness, I-"
"She's at my house."
There was a pause. The Centipeetle screeched a greeting. "Oh."
The official theory is that the Centipeetle had gotten into a scuffle with their captain and fled. How long ago, how it'd gotten out, and why it had chosen her porch were all very good questions.
"She could probably smell you on me." She hummed, climbing onto the fluffy back of Lion. "But why not just follow the scent to the source?"
"I told you!" He cheers, pulling himself up behind her. "She likes you, Connie!"
"Goody." She said.
Author's Note: Seeing how we're in for something feelsy coming up, I feel like a fluffy story in these times might be for the best. Good luck for the rest of Summer for Steven!
-Mandaree1