Chapter Text
.
.
Amelia closes up her book bag, a nervous twitch to her jaw as she makes sure her iPad is accounted for and that her laptop wasn’t left behind in the conference room. Everything is there. She’s feeling clammy and gross. It’s the kind of anxiety that’d make her want to call her mom and go these people SUCK.
“Hey!” The chief engineer is poking her head out the doorway, offering her a wide smile. “I didn’t get to wish you a happy birthday before your speech, sorry. Did you wanna go out to dinner with the rest of the crew?”
“I can’t.” Amelia replies, “Besides, my birthday was a few days ago.”
“Did you do anything crazy for your sweet sixteen?”
“Uh, no.” She would not mention the fireworks that went off under Elizabeth’s car. That was Gigi’s fault, in her mind.
“Oh, well, do you have any plans for the holidays?”
“I’m probably staying in my timeline.”
“Shoot.” The engineer laughs sheepishly. “Alright, but good job with the executives back there! They seemed really on board with funding the program.”
Amelia feels better about that, “You think so? I couldn’t read the room at all.”
“It’s ‘cause you’re always hiding behind your hat.” They scold her good naturedly. “Seriously though! You impressed them. They’ll probably schedule a follow up talk to hash out the details, but I would bet real money that they will make a deal with you at the end of it.”
Amelia feels her spirits soaring at the end of that. She can’t help but grin as she hoists her bag over her shoulder, “Thanks. You’ll text me if anything new comes up?”
“You bet.” The engineer salutes her. “Oh! And Merry Christmas!”
She doesn’t time travel home for dinner, but she’s known beforehand no one would be home. She hoists herself up into a tree and crawls along a tree branch until she’s sliding into Gigi’s bedroom.
Gigi, who is very much grounded, is unsuccessfully punished from where she’s playing video games on her TV.
“Oh hey!” Gigi crows, her tail rapidly wagging against the floor. “Hey, oh my god, did you win? You were gone forever.”
“Uh, I didn’t win anything.” Amelia says wryly. She’s setting her bag down on Gigi’s bed. “It actually…went okay, I think? There’s still a lot of people opposed to just, random people being able to time travel, but you’re not some random person so it shouldn’t matter if we get to decide, right?”
Gigi tilts her head back, blinking at her, “Oh I loved being biased, it’s so fulfilling and yummy.”
Amelia says, “Hey! I’m doing all this for you, you know?”
Gigi takes that opportunity to launch at her, laughing excitedly as she picks her up like she weighs nothing and swings her around. Amelia squeaks, but she’s had a lifetime to get used to Gigi’s antics. She laughs.
Gigi crows dramatically, “Oh, god, I’m dying with envious whimsy over not being able to time travel, it’ll surely be my end days, just wait until I expire and they’ll find my notebook on my body that says time travel SUCKS!”
“By the way,” Amelia says, “I’m spending the holidays with you guys.”
Gigi pauses, blinking up at her from where she’s raising Amelia up by her arms. Amelia looks back at her with a slow building grin.
“Wait!” Gigi screams. “Wait, you’re spending Christmas here?! Not home?!”
“Yeah. Is that okay?”
“Liz!” Gigi screams again, louder this time. “Liz! Liz Liz! Liz! Can Ame stay here for Christmas?!”
Downstairs, muffled, “Yes, she may!”
“Fuck yeah!” Gigi yells.
A long pause before Elizabeth shouts up to them, “Wait, Gigi, you’re supposed to be grounded!”
“Shit!” Gigi yells. She comically tries to stuff Amelia into her closet, but Amelia is laughing too hard for her to manage it.
.
.
Amelia cracks open a soda, spinning her office chair slowly with the heel of her boot. There’s a Bee Ame eating a cookie on her desk. She ignores the little creature as she looks over her phone and digests the morning news unwillfully. She’d slept badly on her mattress and ended up with a tinge in her side. She cracks her neck and sighs.
Her intern, a mousey Amelia with large glasses, pokes her head into her office, “Hey, uh, were we expecting clients today?”
Amelia leans back against her chair, “I didn’t have any appointments. Is someone here?”
“Yeah. They were asking if you do walk-ins.”
“Not for tattoos.” She says wryly. “I can give a, what do they call those? A pep talk or something?”
Bee Ame says, “Consultation.”
“Hell yeah, little dude.” Amelia says. She hoists herself out of her chair and drags her feet over to the door. Mouse scampers off to the reception area. An Amelia hovers there, twitchy, young, but more importantly- her eyes are very pink.
Amelia pauses in the doorway. Bee Ame lands on her shoulder like a particularly demented parrot.
“Hey.” Amelia greets. “We don’t do walk-ins.”
“Uh.” The twitchy girl looks at her with wide eyes, hands deep into her pockets. “I just- I just need one tattoo.”
“You need more than that.” Amelia drawls. “C’mon. In my office.”
The shadow doesn’t budge for a moment, stubborn and afraid. Mouse stays clear of her and eyes them both meekly. It takes a few seconds of passive aggressive tension before the pink-eyed Amelia follows her inside. She closes the door.
Bee Ame says, “Is this consultation free?”
Twitchy Amelia looks at her in alarm. Amelia rolls her eyes, “Ignore her. She’s joking.”
“I want money.” Bee Ame says. Amelia gives her a quarter to chew on as she pulls a chair over for the new girl. She doesn’t sit right away. Amelia doesn’t mind. She sits back down in her rolling chair, carelessly propping her shoes onto her desk.
“So, wanna talk about it?” Amelia hedges.
It takes some coaxing to get a sad backstory out of the girl, who wilts and wilts until she’s rolling up the sleeve of pant leg to show off a nasty set of burns. Accident, she says, but she looks like it’s affected her more then she’ll let anyone know.
“I’ll get you scheduled.” Amelia sighs, brushing off her jeans. “If you don’t have any holiday plans we can get you inked and colored right before new years.”
“I’m free.” She says quietly, almost dazed.
Bee Ame’s like to congregate together. If one is there, others like to show up. Mouse is fending off three of them with a spray bottle at the front desk. Twitchy Amelia looks more relaxed as she leaves, uttering a thanks.
“I thought you usually spend the holidays with your team?” Mouse asks. She’s noting down the new appointment with a furrow in her brow.
“Not this year.” Amelia says, amused. “Girl wonder wanted alone time.”
“W-What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothin’.”
.
.
Amelia taps her pen to her clipboard. Beside her, 4215 or as she’s started calling her in her head Queen 420, is nervously looking over the floral arrangements. She was the shy type, the kind of girl that doesn’t enjoy being around other time travelers. She’s also egregiously taller then Amelia, though that wasn’t an especially notable feat when she often feels like a goblin among other time travelers.
“And you can deliver this to my timeline?” Queen 420 asks, a ball of anxiety from her done up hair to her pretty dress.
Amelia awkwardly says, “Well, yeah?”
“There won’t be any confusion?”
“Just give me the time now on your watch and I’ll set a timer for it.” Amelia says. “It’s simple.”
She looks relieved at that as she finally, finally picks the flowers she likes. Amelia rings up the price, the time, and the rest of the hassle is thankfully settled in the next ten minutes. By the time she’s free of her client, she’s wandering out of her greenhouse and finding the first girl she can complain to. By chance, it’s Gura, who’s in the garden crouched before an orchid patch.
“Hey.” Gura grins up at her, amused. “Aw, is someone bored?”
“I’m not bored.” Amelia complains. She hits Gura’s shoulder with her clipboard. The shark makes a dramatic noise for it. “It was just- you know. Dealing with time travelers who don’t really engage with other time travelers, so they kinda act like it’s a huge deal.”
“You’re just used to it.” Gura fires back. “You’re going to the Sunbear literally everyday to just hang out.”
“Not true.” Amelia says. “I’m doing work stuff.”
“Stuff.” Gura quotes her in a nasally voice.
Amelia nudges her with her hip, “Well, you have no right to complain this Christmas. It’s just gonna be us here.”
Gura makes a face, “You’re not gonna go hang out with your team? Did something happen?”
“No, not something like that.” She can’t help but grin, feeling mischief. “The lovebirds wanted alone time.”
“Oh, ugh.” Gura says.
“You should have seen her face when she was telling us.” Amelia laughs. “I don’t think I’ve seen her that embarrassed in a long time.”
.
.
“467.” 883 says, curt as always. “You’re late.”
Amelia can only offer a smile and a sheepish shrug. The Sunbear is lit up for the holidays in an absurd amount of twinkle lights. Above the cafeteria bar, a makeshift tree had been assembled and was held down by duct tape. Many delta who didn’t have anywhere to celebrate usually congregated here to host a huge party.
883 had been placed in charge of said party. Amelia offers an apology in the form of the takeout she hands out, “I said I’d help and I meant it!”
“I know you’re busy.” 883 says, wordlessly taking the apology gift. “I wasn’t going to take it personally.”
“Ah, well, I’m actually not that busy this time of the year, for once.” Amelia admits. “I mean, aside from spending the holidays with my Myth and visiting 96 and making sure baker Ame gets Ina’s cookies before Christmas and-”
883 looks flatly amused, “And then your annual Christmas party with your team?”
“Oh!” Amelia claps her hands, eager to get one up over the conversation. “Nope! Not this year! That’s actually why I was even able to help out this year with the Sunbear party.”
883 blinks. She adopts a look of concern, “Team Lucky isn’t hanging out this year?”
“Yeah.” Amelia puts a finger to her lips, “Don’t tell anyone, but Sev asked us for a break year.”
“What for?”
“Some alone time from all the noise.” Amelia shakes her head, endlessly endeared over the way her teammate scrambles from Wattropolis attention. “I might pop by to see what the others are doing, but other than that, I’m free!” She flashes a peace sign for extra effect.
883 raises her eyebrows, “You can start by unpacking the decorations.”
“Same old 883.” Amelia says. “Straight to business.”
.
.
.
.
Seven rests against the window. The lodge is buzzing down below with Christmas music, not loud enough to be bothersome, but generating a quiet hum that threatens to put her to sleep. Under quilts and tucked against the chilly window, it’s practically bliss.
She hears the bathroom door click. Soft footsteps before the quilt is being moved and a body is joining hers next to the window. It makes her snort. As always, there’s a perfectly usable bed.
Lady always chooses her.
“The cafe hot chocolate was a little tasteless.” Lady complains, winding her arms around her to get comfortable. “It’s a shame, since evening feels like the best time for it.”
“Mm.” Seven agrees, combing her fingers through long waves of golden hair. She pulls the blankets up properly, snug around her girl, and kisses the top of her head. “I can make you some in the morning.”
“Lucky me.” Lady smiles against her skin. Her fingers are playing with her hand under the blankets, the comfortable laziness that doesn’t require attention or thought. She’s playing with the ring on Seven’s finger, touching along the rim of it.
“Lucky me.” Lady repeats, quiet and gentle, just for her.
.
.