Work Text:
About seven months after Carol left Earth, she came back.
Now, Maria didn’t know a lot about intergalactic travel and aliens, but she’d figured it would take a little longer than seven months for Carol to help General Talos and his people, to say nothing of taking on the Kree. And that wasn’t even taking into account the travel times involved.
So it was kind of a surprise when the early afternoon knock on her door turned out to be Carol, smiling sunnily. Maria thought, vaguely, that she should give Carol a key—it was ridiculous that she didn’t have a key, she should never have to knock on Maria’s door—but somehow, the thought of Carol zooming around the galaxy with a single key from Earth in her pocket struck her as intensely ridiculous, nearly impossible.
But here Carol was, a bright impossibility, standing right in front of Maria.
“Hi!”
“Hi,” said Maria, and let her in. “I, uh, kinda thought it would take you longer to deal with all your space business.” A thought occurred to Maria. “That is really you, right? Tell me something only Carol would know.”
Carol turned around, a familiar chiding look on her face. “Now you ask, after you let me in?” she said, but she lifted her glowing hands, the blue-gold glow creeping up her forearms. “It’s really me.”
“Well, in that case…” said Maria, and opened her arms for a hug.
Carol grinned and stepped into her arms without hesitation, squeezing her tightly. If Maria had hoped for a different kind of embrace, if she’d had to stop herself from taking Carol’s face in her hands and kissing the hell out of her—it didn’t matter. Things were different, now. Maria turned her head into Carol’s hair, and closed her eyes tightly against the tears that rose up at the unfamiliar scent, no longer that dumb, fruity Herbal Essences shampoo Carol used to use. Of course her hair didn’t smell the same, she was probably using some fancy space shampoo now.
“Where’s Lieutenant Trouble?” asked Carol once she let Maria go.
“Still at school, I’m going to pick her up soon. Is something wrong? Don’t tell me, we’re about to be invaded by aliens.”
“Nothing’s wrong, and I’m definitely not done with my space business. I just wanted to visit. And, um, invite you somewhere. If that’s okay. You and Monica.”
“Yeah? Where’s that?” asked Maria, and crossed her arms. “I’m fine, by the way, how are you.”
“Sorry, right. Small talk,” said Carol, almost as if to herself.
“What, they don’t have small talk in outer space?”
“They do, I’m just—you know. Nervous. Excited, whatever.”
And she wanted to get to the point. Maria worried sometimes, about how much she’d changed between the amnesia and the space adventures and superpowers, but Carol was still Carol in most of the ways that mattered.
“So, where are you inviting us?” asked Maria.
“On a vacation. General Talos, he’s taking his family and some of the other Skrulls to this, uh, vacation planet type place. It’s been tough, searching for a new home, and we figure the kids could use a break. And that we could use some shore leave. Thought I’d swing by, see if you and Monica wanted to come too.”
“On an outer space vacation.”
“Yup.”
“Kinda short notice,” said Maria slowly, thinking of all the arrangements she’d have to make and the school Monica would miss. Carol winced apologetically.
“I know, sorry. But—I’m not sure when I’ll be able to come back around here, and I had to leave so quickly the last time, so I thought—I thought it’d be nice to spend some time together, without an alien invasion or whatever to deal with.”
Carol was making the big, pleading puppy dog eyes look that Monica had probably learned from her, and Maria was as weak to it as she had always been.
“How long?”
“What?”
“How long is this vacation gonna be?”
“Oh!” said Carol, her pleading expression beginning to shift into wide-eyed, hopeful excitement. “About nine Earth days. Plus a couple days of travel time each way.”
“And it’s safe?”
“Talos is taking his family, so yeah, it’s safe. Totally family friendly, I promise, and it’s a planet that’s under Nova Corps protection.”
“I mean, is it safe for us normal humans. And with the—Christ, I can’t believe I’m saying this—with the space travel.”
“Right, yeah, no, totally safe, I promise. So? What do you say? Wanna go on a space vacation with me?” asked Carol, her hazel eyes big and pleading again, a winsome, dimpled grin on her face.
Maria never could say no to that look. Not when it was egging her on to nights out at Pancho’s, or to karaoke duets, or to every kind of dumb, fun nonsense two Air Force cadets could get up to on leave. It was, Maria realized, an awful lot like the look Monica gave her when she was trying to convince Maria to teach her to fly or to play hooky from school. Maria had spent the last few years as a single mom having to say no to that look, having to be responsible and steady and firm, because there wasn’t anyone else around to be those things, and she couldn’t afford to slip up, couldn’t let fun be more important than keeping Monica safe and provided for.
But Carol was here now. Not for long, but she was here for a couple of weeks. And Maria couldn’t even remember the last time she’d taken anything like a real vacation with Monica. They’d gone on a weekend trip to New Orleans a couple years back, she supposed, but that was it. It was a smaller life than she’d ever wanted for her daughter. But here was Carol, offering them both the stars, for a little while at least.
“Yeah. Yeah, okay. When are we leaving? And, uh, in what?”
Carol pumped her fist. “Yes! And we can leave as soon as you’re ready, Talos will send a shuttle down.”
“Okay,” said Maria, a little stunned at the turn her afternoon had taken. Carol was back and they were going on a space vacation, together. Okay. This was Maria’s life now, she supposed. “Guess I gotta pack for a space vacation.”
“I’ll handle the packing,” Carol told her. “You go get Monica and do whatever else you need to do.”
Carol was good at efficient packing...or at least, she used to be.
“Alright,” Maria said. “I’ll go pick up Monica, give her the good news. And I’ll have to let the school know she’ll be out.”
Maria would have to make some excuse to her parents too, and her neighbors, something a little more plausible than ‘friendly alien abduction.’ Well, she’d come up with something. She’d give Nick Fury a call too, though, and tell him the truth. Just in case. Someone ought to know where she and Monica really were, in case this space vacation turned into something else.
After a whirlwind couple of hours spent telling everybody different reasons why she and Monica would be unexpectedly out of town for a couple weeks, all while wrangling an overexcited Monica who was clearly this close to just telling everybody that she was going to outer space, Maria absolutely needed a vacation. She really hoped said vacation was going to include the space equivalent of sipping maitais on a beach with Carol.
By the time she got back home, there was a small spaceship parked in her yard, and Carol was waiting outside with two big suitcases and a smile.
“Auntie Carol!” shrieked Monica, and ran to her for a hug. Carol caught her easily, and lifted her up to twirl her around. Monica was getting too big for Maria to comfortably manage that particular maneuver any more, but Carol had no trouble, and Monica shrieked in delight.
“Hey Lieutenant Trouble, you ready to go on a space adventure?”
“Yeah!”
Carol looked over at Maria, smile still on her face. All Maria’s stress about preparing for a last-minute secret vacation dissipated under the sunshine glow of Carol and Monica’s smiles.
“We good to go?”
“Just about, yeah,” said Maria. “Let me go lock up the house and all.”
The insanity of what she was doing only really hit her as she was closing all the windows. She wasn’t just going on a last-minute trip to Disneyland here, she was taking her daughter into outer space, for a space vacation she didn’t know anything about beyond it being ‘family-friendly’ enough for a family of shapeshifting alien refugees. And she was going with Carol, who—well. She’s your best friend, and she’d never put Monica in danger. That’s all that matters. And who knew when, or if, she’d be able to spend time with Carol again. Even if they’d never get back what they used to have, even if Carol never remembered everything about her life on Earth, this was at least the chance to be together as a family. Crazy or not, Maria wasn’t going to let that chance go.
Monica spent basically the whole trip in a state of permanent wild excitement. Maria couldn’t blame her: she was on a damned spaceship, with aliens, on her way to a resort planet. It was the stuff of a kid’s dreams, plus she was making friends with the Skrull kids, who were all real sweet, if shy. Maria tried to keep Monica in sight at all times, wary of Monica getting up to trouble or touching something dangerous on the ship, but Talos’s wife Shara told her not to worry.
“Our children have been using half this ship as a playground for years. It’s about as child-safe as it’s possible to get,” she said. “Don’t worry, the older children will keep an eye out.”
So that left Maria at loose ends, until Carol cornered her, a determined look on her face.
“We didn’t get much of a chance to talk, before, what with everything. So catch me up. What have I missed in the last, uh, six years?”
Maria laughed, mostly so she wouldn’t scream, or cry. It wasn’t Carol’s fault, she reminded herself. This wasn’t an ex rolling back into town like nothing had changed, this was her best friend, who she’d thought had died. This was her best friend, who’d been through something unimaginable. If Carol was acting like she and Maria had only ever been just friends, well, that was probably because that was all they were, as far as Carol knew. It was all Maria had told her.
“A lot,” Maria said, while she tried to figure out where to even start.
“Yeah, I know,” said Carol softly. “Can you—I’d like it if you told me about some of it. If that’s okay.”
“Of course it’s okay, it’s just hard to know where to start,” Maria said, then she took a deep breath. She wasn’t about to start with Carol’s funeral, that was for damn sure. “I left the Air Force, obviously. Moved back to Louisiana to be closer to my folks, so they could help out with Monica…”
It didn’t take all that long, really, to sum up the last six years. Mostly Maria measured the time in Monica’s milestones: first day of elementary school, first lost baby tooth, first sleepover, first time she took Monica up in a plane…nothing else seemed much worth mentioning, either too banal—like Carol would care about Maria’s new job ferrying people around in little planes—or too much. Mostly, I just missed you, Maria couldn’t say.
“How about you?” Maria asked. “And, how’s, y’know, your memory? I mean, do you remember—”
Maria didn’t even know how to finish that sentence. Do you remember our life together, do you remember how careful we had to be, do you remember the first time we kissed and the first time we fucked.
“I remember the big things, I think,” said Carol, with uncharacteristic uncertainty. “Details are still hard. I’m, uh, kind of a freak of nature now, what with the alien experimentation and the super powers, so…hard to say if I’m gonna get it all back. Anyway, mostly I was just—training, with the Kree. Going on missions that turned out to be war crimes, super fun.”
“Carol.” Maria reached out to take Carol’s hand, and Carol squeezed her hand gratefully. “You didn’t know. You couldn’t have been expected to know, not really.”
“Yeah, that’s a running theme,” said Carol bitterly.
“Hey, so tell me about this resort planet we’re going to.”
The change of subject was transparent, but Carol let it pass and made the effort to smile. “Way better than Disneyland, for one thing.”
“You remember that?”
They’d had a long weekend of leave, and, on impulse, they’d decided to take Monica to Disneyland. Though really, Monica had been an excuse, since she’d only been three years old, too young to go on most of the rides.
Carol’s smile turned almost shy. “I do,” she said. “And let me tell you, based on what Talos showed me, Raxoria is way cooler.”
Raxoria was absolutely cooler than Disneyland. Also, Maria was on a different planet. Even if it hadn’t been absolutely gorgeous, that would have been enough to make it cooler than Disneyland. But it was gorgeous, like a pastel-colored fever dream version of the Caribbean, where the air was warm and balmy and sweet, and the glittering ocean was an impossibly lovely pale turquoise, bordered by beaches with lavender sand. The planet’s two suns hung low in the pink sky, like ripe and blushing peaches, and the lush plant life was like Dr. Seuss gone tropical, made up of improbable round and curvy shapes and bright colors. The overall effect was like being transported into one of those Lisa Frank trapper keepers Monica loved so much, and it was all maybe kind of overwhelming. Amazing, but overwhelming. Maria could barely even take in all of the honest to God aliens walking around, a lot of them looking a hell of a lot stranger than Talos and his people did.
“So? How do you like it?” asked Carol.
“This is the best thing that has ever happened to me,” said Monica, spinning around in place as she tried to look at everything all at once. Talos’s daughter Talara was just as wide-eyed.
“Yeah, it’s alright,” said Talos with a shrug. They were still in the area near the shuttle docks, the space crowded with people arriving and leaving, and Talos clearly wasn’t in vacation mode yet. He was looking around with a soldier’s eye, relaxed but alert. “C’mon, hotel’s that way. We’ve got a whole floor to ourselves.”
“Do I even wanna know how y’all are paying for this?” asked Maria, and Carol grinned over at her, distinctly smug.
“Let’s just say some space pirates tried to hijack the wrong ship, and, hmm, gave up some of their loot as an apology.”
“An apology, huh?” asked Maria, sensing there was definitely more to this story, but she’d have to ask for the details when the kids weren’t around. Carol confirmed it when she winked, and Maria had to drag her attention away from the inviting twinkle in Carol’s eyes and back towards the glittering beaches and the curved buildings that made up the hotel. “So what do you want to do first, kids? Go to the beach? Go on those—” Maria squinted at the weird bubble shapes she could see in the distance. “Rides?”
“Beach!” came the resounding answer, and Maria shared a smile with Carol.
“Hope you packed us swim suits,” Maria said. “And sunscreen,” she added, squinting up at the two suns. “If Earth sunscreen is even gonna work?”
“I packed the swimsuits, don’t worry, and I’ll get us sunscreen.” Carol put her arm around Maria’s shoulders, and Maria put her own arm around Carol’s waist, automatic and familiar, like six years hadn’t passed, like they weren’t walking under alien twin suns. “Now, we are officially on vacation. No more worrying!”
“I’m not worrying!”
Carol tapped her finger on Maria’s forehead. “Forehead wrinkle doesn’t lie! Just relax, Maria. I swear, Raxoria is safe, as safe as Disneyland. And a lot more exciting too, for kids and grownups.”
Carol wasn’t wrong about that. Maria and Carol spent the first couple of—days? Maria was going to go with days, because while neither of the suns ever entirely set, it did feel like something close to 24 hours had passed, and there had been a long enough stretch of rosy violet twilight to let them sleep—whatever time period it was, they spent it exploring the planet-wide resort that was Raxoria with Monica.
They went from the beach to some sort of garden playground to the Raxorian version of a theme park, where the rides were considerably more impressive than anything on Earth, given that they had the technology to turn gravity on and off. Maria would have had fun just watching Monica have fun, but shit, Raxoria really was a hell of a lot more exciting than Disneyland and Maria was almost exactly as thrilled and excited as her eleven-year old daughter was, she was just better at acting like she wasn’t. Also, she was a little distracted by Carol.
Things between them were almost but not quite the way they used to be: there was the same warm spark of affection in Carol’s eyes, the same casual touches that were easy to pass off as sisterly—holding hands sometimes, Carol’s arm thrown around Maria’s shoulders or waist, resting their heads on each other’s shoulders. But when they got back to the hotel suite to sleep during what passed for night on Raxoria, they went to separate rooms. Hell, Maria didn’t know if Carol slept at all, or if that was something she’d left behind along with so many of her other human frailties.
You could just talk to her about it, said the sensible voice in Maria’s head that sounded an awful lot like some mix of her mother and Carol, the two most pragmatic people she knew.
But how could Maria ask, when in all likelihood, Carol was just going to leave again? Remember when we were together? How about we get back together for a few days before you fly off into outer space for who knows how long? It didn’t seem like anything but a recipe for pain. Maria could let Carol go again, knowing she was needed out in space, and she could do it with a smile. Off on space adventures to save lives was a hell of a lot better than Carol being dead, after all. But if she had to do it after kissing her, after making love to her for what would surely feel like the last time—Maria didn’t know if she was strong enough for that.
This is enough, she told herself. You already got a miracle, don’t be greedy for more.
They were having dinner with Talos and his family on the third night when Shara made the suggestion that led to Maria’s Space Disneyland vacation turning into more of a wild night out in Space Vegas.
“You know, if you want to take a day or two to enjoy yourselves with some more adult activities than another round with the bubble ride, we can look after Monica. I’m sure she and Talara will have fun together on the rides and such.”
Monica gasped. “Mom, can I? Can I, please?”
“Oh, I don’t want to impose—” started Maria, and Shara smiled. Her sharp teeth made it an admittedly somewhat alarming expression, but her eyes were warm and kind.
“It’s no imposition, truly, what’s one more child when we’re already looking after half a dozen?” Shara winked. “And some of the rides are more fun in groups besides, without us adults being spoilsports.”
“But what about you and Talos?” asked Maria.
“Oh, we’ve had our adult time,” said Talos with a beatific leer. “Go on, we can take your kid for a day or two, how much trouble could one human child be?”
Carol snorted. “You’d be surprised,” she said, but then she exchanged a considering look with Maria. “Monica probably will have more fun with the other kids than being stuck with us the whole time. You can take some me-time, go to the spa or whatever. And, uh, we could go dancing?”
“What, they got the equivalent of Pancho’s here?” said Maria with a grin that felt too affectionate and nostalgic by far.
“Better, even,” said Carol, the smile on her lips soft and almost tentative. If this had been seven years ago and they’d been at home, Maria would have kissed that smile. “And the drinks aren’t watered down.”
“Mom, pleeeeease? I promise I’ll be good and safe and everything!”
“And I promise we’ll look out for each other,” added Talara, and now Maria was getting the big pleading eyes in stereo.
The prospect of some me-time did sound awfully tempting. But spending time with Carol, without Monica there as a buffer...the thought made Maria ache, partly from longing and partly just because it hurt. And yet, how many times had she wished for just one more day with Carol? It was almost like the grief-stricken bargains she’d begged for from a silent, uncaring universe were finally being honored. Maria couldn’t say no. Whatever else they’d been and no longer were to each other, they were still family. It wasn’t Carol’s fault she didn’t remember.
“You’re sure?” Maria asked Shara and Talos, one last time.
“We’re sure, she’ll be fine,” said Talos. “Go on, treat yourself. A spa day on Raxoria is a once in a lifetime opportunity for someone from a little backwater planet like Earth.”
“Alright,” said Maria, and Monica and Talara cheered. “But you mind Shara and Talos, okay? And remember what I told you about stranger danger!”
“And remember what I told you about intergalactic etiquette,” added Carol.
“Wait, what did you tell her about intergalactic etiquette?” Maria asked, but Carol just flapped a hand at her, a silent I’ll tell you later.
With clearly heroic effort, Monica didn’t roll her eyes, and just nodded. “I know, I know, I’ll stay with Talara the whole time, I promise, you don’t have to worry about me. You should get to have fun on this vacation too, Mom.”
Maria sighed and kissed Monica’s forehead. “Okay, okay. Thank you, baby.”
“Do I even wanna know what kinda weird spa treatments you can get at an alien resort?” asked Maria as she scrolled dubiously through Raxoria’s holographic spa menu.
It wasn’t like she could read anything on it; whatever translation doohickey Talos and Carol had hooked her up with on the trip here didn’t extend to written language.
“A lot of them aren’t really meant for our anatomy, no,” said Carol. “But massages and saunas and hot tubs are pretty universal, it turns out.”
Massages and saunas and hot tubs may have been universal, but Raxoria had definitely perfected them. At least, Maria thought so, what with being a human from a backwater planet like Earth. Now that she’d gotten a massage from an alien with skilled tentacles, no boring old Earth massage from a regular two-armed human was ever going to cut it again. After a long soak in a hot tub and then a leisurely swim, Maria was feeling just about as relaxed as she’d ever felt.
“Are you still up for going dancing tonight?” asked Carol on their way out of the spa, sounding distinctly indulgent and amused. “Because you haven’t even had a drink yet and you look like you wanna pour yourself into bed.”
“That alien masseuse about turned all my muscles to putty, it was amazing. But don’t you worry, I’ll be ready to go after I’ve had a nap,” she said, and Carol laughed.
“If our 23-year old selves could hear us now. But yeah, okay, I could maybe do with one too. But that means I expect you to stay up late, Rambeau. No calling it a night early!”
“What’s turned you into such a party animal?”
Carol shrugged. “What can I say, I’m really getting into the spirit of this vacation thing.”
When Maria woke up from her nap, the long dusky twilight that passed for Raxoria’s night had begun, and the resort’s night life was kicking into gear. She checked in with Monica, who was back at the hotel with Talara, and found that both of the girls were happy and tired, but getting their second wind for their sleepover.
Shara pushed her back out of their suite. “Go, go, I’ll handle this sleepover and we will see you at breakfast! Or lunch, if you have an especially good night…?” said Shara with an encouraging head waggle.
“Shara, oh my god—” she started, but Shara just grinned and closed the door.
Maria didn’t know what would be worse: if she had the night Shara assumed she was about to have, or if she didn’t. Which version of this night should she dress for, she wondered. The version where she was having a girl’s night out with her best friend, for the first time in years? Or the version where they’d have one drink, dance for two songs, then come back to their room to fuck all night?
Though maybe she should settle for dressing up for any sort of night out at all. She looked through her suitcase, digging through the carefully packed clothes for anything that would pass muster in an alien bar. It had been a long, long time since she’d dressed up for anything, and she was on an alien planet. What did she know about alien fashion? She could show up in jeans and a t-shirt and no one would care. Who was she even dressing up for?
For Carol, of course. Who, Maria realized as she pulled it out, had been the one to dig into the depths of Maria’s closet for this tight black dress and pack it for her. Hope and nerves pressed on her, like she was pulling too many Gs in the air. She put the dress on.
It’s just a dress, Rambeau. Don’t get any ideas.
But then Carol came out of her own room now looking sexy as hell in that frustratingly effortless way of hers, and Maria got all kinds of ideas, zero to Mach 1 in a second as the past and present collided. Before, Carol’s night out outfits had consisted of whatever her latest favorite band t-shirt was and a pair of tight jeans, and she had the same basic look now, only a little more revealing: form-fitting dark pants, and a loose tank top that showed off her arms and dipped enticingly low towards her breasts, exposing the elegant lines of her collarbones.
It’s just—alien fashion, whatever, don’t get your hopes up, don’t. Don’t make it weird.
“Real optimistic of you to pack this dress for me. It’s been a minute since I bought it, it might not have fit. How much digging around my closet did you do?” Maria asked, giving the clingy dress a few tugs to settle it properly into place. It had been an impulse purchase, a gesture towards a different life than the one she had. She’d bought it thinking, for when I start dating again, when Monica’s older, but it had hung in her closet, unworn, for over a year.
“Enough,” said Carol. “It was kinda tragic in there, Maria. Just a lot of boring work clothes. This was basically the only thing I found that wasn’t a flight suit or jeans. And packing it was a great idea, clearly, because you look great.”
Carol always had gotten way too excited whenever Maria wore dresses, which wasn’t often. Not too many opportunities, when you spent most of your time on an Air Force base.
“Yeah? Is the alien club bouncer gonna let me in?”
“Not that kind of club. C’mon, you’ll see.”
Once they walked out of the area where all the hotel suites were clustered, there was a steady stream of resort goers winding their way towards the glittering constellation of lights that made up Raxoria’s clubs and bars. The clubs and bars formed their own discrete section of the resort, a self-contained little neighborhood that was like a theme park within a theme park, one for adults only.
“So what, does this place turn into Vegas at night once all the kids are asleep?” asked Maria.
She tried to stare without staring at the aliens surrounding them, all in what she assumed was their finest club gear, a bewildering array of unfamiliar colors and styles that almost reminded her of Mardi Gras in New Orleans. Bipedal humanoids represented only about half of the crowd, and that was both thrilling and discomfiting.
“Basically,” said Carol. “Some people only come here for the nightlife. Best clubs in the sector, and the safest, probably.” She linked arms with Maria and leaned in happily against her. “So relax, and let loose for a night, Maria. This is gonna be way better than Pancho’s, I promise.”
After three ridiculously tasty space cocktails, Maria was letting loose alright. The club had felt like walking into a psychedelic kaleidoscope, too many lights and colors and unexpected alien geometry in the club’s architecture, and Maria had needed a drink just to cope with that, and then it turned out the cocktails were really good, so she’d had another drink, and then a friendly alien had bought her a cocktail before Carol had glared them off, and Raxorian clubs sure as hell didn’t water their drinks so after three drinks in short succession, Maria was feeling pretty good. She was feeling good enough to lose any self-consciousness about dancing for the first time in way too long, and she hit the dance floor even though the music was little more than a drone with a beat.
Carol had matched her drink for drink, and she was having something even stronger—Asgardian mead, not meant for the average mortal—so she was right there on the dance floor with Maria, doing her best to dance with Maria, though neither of them could quite get the strange, unpredictable rhythm of the alien song right. They danced together anyway, grinning wildly like they were getting away with something. It turned out Carol was still a handsy, happy drunk, and she kept Maria close as they danced—a hand tangled in hers, or her arms around Maria’s shoulders or neck—and it gave Maria the tipsy courage to touch her shamelessly right back, her hands on Carol’s hips or dancing close and tangled enough that their thighs and breasts touched.
When the music turned truly un-danceable, at least by human standards, they staggered from the dance floor to the nearest bar to down glasses of water, followed by more drinks. They drank more slowly this time though, and watched the dance floor as they nursed their drinks. Whatever was playing over the club’s astonishingly clear speakers sounded like whale song’s more joyous cousin, and assorted multi-limbed and diaphanous jellyfish looking aliens hit the dance floor to sway and undulate in waving, color-shifting pulses.
Maria rested her head on Carol’s shoulder and watched in wonder. “They’re beautiful.”
“Yeah.”
They watched until the music shifted again, to something that sounded like angry robots fighting or fucking, when they retreated to the other side of the club for the sake of their ears. Things were quieter here, with cozy booths and what looked like game tables, and—
“Oh my god, do they have karaoke here? They have karaoke in outer space?”
Carol squinted over at the stage where an alien couple was singing together, a hologram projected in front of them with what Maria figured had to be song lyrics.
“I dunno,” said Carol. “Maybe! Let’s go see!”
Space karaoke was unlikely to have any songs Maria would know, and she told Carol as much, but Carol was tipsy enough on super space booze to be optimistic.
“You never know! Earth’s radio waves are, y’know—” Carol made a wiggling, waving gesture with her fingers and hands, and continued, “Traveling out there, on and on.”
Maria screwed her face up, trying to remember what Talos and Carol had told her about just where the hell in outer space Raxoria was. Light years away from Earth, probably, and Maria may have been too drunk to do the math right now, but she didn’t need to run the numbers to know it was unlikely.
Still, she suggested, “Or maybe someone found Voyager, they put music on the Golden Record, didn’t they?”
“Yeah!”
But when they staggered over to the space karaoke stage, it was pretty clear they were shit out of luck when it came to knowing any of the songs. Carol recognized a few, but she blew a disapproving raspberry at them.
“I’m not singing any Kree songs, gross. They’re all boring as hell anyway, all about the glory of Kree warriors and the Supreme Intelligence.” She kept flicking through the song choices, dismissing pretty much all of them. “That’s for species with two larynxes, that’s full of stuff we can’t pronounce with a human tongue, that one’s just screaming…”
“Just pick one,” whined Maria. “We’ll figure it out! It’ll be like that time you picked Total Eclipse of the Heart even though we definitely didn’t know all the words. And it was stupidly long, by the way—”
“Yeah yeah yeah, okay,” said Carol, punched her finger at something on the hologram in front of her, and then they were up on stage.
Maria spent the first song just following Carol’s lead, her eyes uselessly following the alien words scrolling by, as if they’d turn into lyrics she could understand. Even without knowing the words though, the tune was easy enough to get the hang of, and belting out a song with Carol was still the same kind of dumb fun it had always been. Maybe music really was the universal language. The little crowd in the karaoke area cheered them on through their first song, then their next, and they had at least one fan who was appreciative enough of their talents to send drinks their way, so of course they had to pound those back and keep singing.
Three songs and two very strong drinks later, the bartender or DJ or whoever they were shouted at Carol and Maria to wrap it up.
“Aww, one more song, c’mon!” wheedled Carol, already turning back to the holographic song selection menu. “How about this one? It’s a Raxorian song, even!”
The bartender got very excited then, their antennae waggling and sparkling. “That song? Truly? Wait wait wait, I gotta pull out the organ, oh wow.”
“Oooh, we get live backup on this one,” said Maria, nudging Carol with her elbow until the movement unbalanced her and Carol had to put an arm around her waist to keep her vertical. Maria’d drunk a lot of space booze by now.
As the bartender started playing, some of the audience got very excited, so clearly this was a popular song. It took a minute for her and Carol to get into the groove of it, but the tune was pretty and easy to harmonize to, and the Raxorian language wasn’t too hard, plus the Raxorian lyrics to this particular song were pretty repetitive. By the time the key change kicked in, she and Carol were really belting it out, to the beaming approval of the audience. The alien audience, remembered Maria. The alien audience who wouldn’t give a fuck that she and Carol were both women, who maybe didn’t even know or understand what that meant.
Maria could do what she’d always wanted to do, after a rousingly successful and fun karaoke number: she could kiss Carol. There were still reasons why she shouldn’t, but the happy haze of alcohol and music made all those reasons seem distant and dumb. So when the song was over, she kissed Carol. Not some plausibly deniable bullshit like she’d been aiming for Carol’s cheek and landed on her mouth by accident, no, Maria grabbed Carol’s face and kissed her, right on the mouth, with tongue. And after one sweet, surprised noise, Carol kissed her back, sloppy and sincere and wild.
Was her mouth hotter than the last time Maria had done this, years ago? Was the taste of her different, honey-sweet with some mysterious alien booze and a new underlying sharpness? Maybe, but Carol kissed her the same as she always had, when they could be certain no one would see, with reckless abandon like she was getting away with something and she was thrilled about it.
“Finally,” gasped Carol when they broke apart, and Maria blinked in confusion, still dazed and dazzled by the kiss and their alien audience, who were still cheering.
“What?”
Carol kissed her, just a quick and happy press of her lips to Maria’s. “I think we should go back to our hotel room, don’t you?”
“Yeah.”
By the time they got back to their suite, Maria had sobered up enough to be closer to tipsy than to drunk. She had enough sense in her to know that she should put the brakes on this, check in with Carol, figure out what the hell they were doing. But Carol was kissing her against the door of their suite, and Carol kept kissing her, until Maria was breathless with it, and then they opened the door and tripped inside, still kissing, and it all felt so good: the lingering buzz of the alcohol, and Carol’s lips on hers, and the heat building up in Maria, the pulse between her legs that felt so hot and needy. She moaned as Carol kissed her and kissed her, and actually cried out when Carol cupped her breasts, because even through the fabric of her dress and bra, the touch of Carol’s hands made her back arch with the strength of the sensation.
“Oh, I remember that,” breathed Carol, her eyes wide and delighted. “Still that sensitive, huh?”
And wait, Carol remembered—but then Maria lost her train of thought as Carol whole-ass picked her up. Maria yelped and clamped her legs around Carol’s waist, fully anticipating both of them toppling to the floor, but of course, they didn’t. Carol had goddamn superpowers now, and she held Maria easily, grinning as she walked them to her bedroom.
“Holy shit, Carol,” said Maria, and tried real hard not to rub herself over Carol, though her hips desperately wanted to move in search of friction and pressure.
“Always wanted to do that,” Carol said, before depositing Maria gently on the enormous, soft hotel bed.
From there it was an undignified scramble to get their clothes off, a process that had them collapsing into laughter halfway through, because they were both still drunk enough that wriggling out of their tight clothes was a whole ordeal.
“These tight pants were a mistake,” groaned Carol, and Maria laughed.
“But your ass looks so good in them, baby,” she said, while she herself got sort of breathless trying to shimmy her tight dress off.
After a lot of hilarious and unsexy wriggling around on the enormous bed, they did both finally manage to get their dumb, sexy clothes off. Maria spared half a minute to feel self-conscious: she was past thirty now and her body was softening, muscles no longer so defined now that she wasn’t keeping up with an Air Force PT routine. If Carol noticed though, Maria couldn’t tell, given that Carol’s attention went pretty immediately to Maria’s breasts and nipples, and then Maria wasn’t thinking much of anything at all beyond please.
The night passed in a haze of fucking, everything stretching out honey-sweet and slow: how Carol spooned up behind Maria to finger her, how Maria ate Carol out while she teased her own nipples so that she was moaning into Carol’s cunt, how Carol rode Maria’s fingers, egging Maria on to go faster, harder. Maria lost count of how many times she came, never mind how many times Carol did.
Sex slid into sleep so slowly and steadily that Maria barely even noticed it, her body so loose with waves of pleasure that an exhausted sleep was just one more wave, pulling her down into warm, tender darkness.
The next morning, Maria woke up feeling a strange mix of terrible and wonderful: terrible, because hangover, and wonderful, because morning-after afterglow. She luxuriated in and/or endured the symptoms of last night’s excesses for a couple of minutes before cold reality intruded on her. Carol, was she still here, was Carol going to have morning-after regrets—
“I can tell you’re awake,” said Carol, quiet but sing-song, and Maria felt a kiss on the bare skin of her shoulder.
Maria turned over, carefully and queasily, and squinted her eyes open to see Carol looking cheerful and not at all hungover, her hair damp from the shower. She’d been up for a while already, then, waiting for Maria to wake up. She hadn’t left. So at least this wasn’t that kind of one-night stand to Carol.
“Good morning,” Maria said with a groan. Carol beamed and kissed her on the nose.
“Good afternoon, more like. We slept through breakfast. I’m guessing you’ve got a hangover?”
“Yeah. Guessing you don’t?”
“Nope, guess space booze doesn’t give me hangovers.”
Ugh, of course Carol with her alien superpowers didn’t get a hangover. Maria groped around for a pillow and smacked Carol with it a few times while Carol cackled. The movement jarred Maria’s aching head a little too much though, so she stopped and flopped slowly back down on the bed.
“I gotta check on Monica,” she said.
“No need, Shara left us a message on the room comms, she took the girls to breakfast and said they’ll meet back up with us for lunch. Which should be starting soon. C’mon, up you get, whatever the alien equivalent of a greasy brunch is will take care of your hangover.”
Carol bounced out of bed, and a powerful wave of deja vu overtook Maria. How many mornings had she done just that, when they’d risked spending the night together? The sheer continuity with a life Maria had thought was lost forever years ago made her dizzier than the hangover. She reached out to grab Carol’s hand.
“Hey. Are you—last night. You’re okay with that, right? I know we were drunk—”
“Not that drunk,” said Carol with a crooked smile. She leaned in to kiss Maria, and the only reason Maria didn’t turn the kiss into a deep and long morning make-out session was on account of her almost certainly foul morning breath. “I’m definitely okay with it. Now seriously, take a shower. I’m starving, and I want to get to the buffet before brunch is over.”
There were a lot of questions Maria should have been asking, like was this a friends with benefits one night stand? Do you remember all the times we’ve done this before? What, exactly, are we doing here? But instead, she asked, “Aliens have brunch?”
“I mean, lunchtime is completely arbitrary, but I think breakfast and brunch are universal.”
Raxorian hotel showers were ridiculously amazing, not that Maria was paying much attention to the excellent water pressure and sweet-smelling soaps and shampoos.
I have got to just ask Carol about last night, she told herself. Woman up, Rambeau, and communicate like a grown woman.
The problem was, Maria didn’t know if she wanted to hear some of the answers Carol could give her. If Carol thought last night was a fun fling between friends, but nothing serious, then Maria had just set herself up for a world of heartbreak. But if it was serious, well, that was its own kind of heartbreak, because Maria was still going to have to let Carol go, at the end of this vacation.
Maria owed it to Carol to ask, though. The uncertainty didn’t do either of them any favors.
When they arrived at the hotel’s buffet-style restaurant for a meal that might have been brunch or lunch, Talos was there too, waving at them cheerfully from a long table where he was sitting with a few of the other Skrull adults. Carol guided Maria towards them, and sat her down gently.
“You sit, I’ll bring you the best alien hangover food they’ve got. Don’t want you puking all over the food in the buffet line.”
“Thanks, Carol, that image does a lot to settle my stomach,” said Maria dryly, but she had to concede it was a good idea. This was a buffet meant for all kinds of species, and some species’ food was distinctly unappetizing and stinky to Maria’s human senses. “Just don’t bring me any kind of alien fish, please.”
“Pretty sure there’s no fish in the galaxy that would make for good hangover food,” said Carol, and pecked her on the cheek. The casual public display of affection made Maria’s stomach flutter in a far more pleasant way than hangover queasiness, and her eyes followed Carol as she headed for the food, a cheerful kind of bounce to her step.
“You two look like you had a fun night,” said Talos.
“Yeah, we did. Hope Monica hasn’t been too much trouble.”
Talos waved his fork in easy dismissal. “Course not, she and Talara are having loads of fun together. And hey, I understand congratulations are in order,” said Talos with a grin that showed way more sharp teeth than Maria was entirely comfortable seeing so soon after waking up, while she was hungover no less.
“Wait, congratulations for what?” she asked.
“Congratulations on the happy occasion of your wedding, of course.”
“My what?”
Talos pointed behind her, and Maria turned to see the holographic display that made up most of the restaurant’s back wall. She’d assumed it was just information about Raxoria: the weather, the day’s activities and shows, advertising. After a look at it on their first day on Raxoria, she’d mostly ignored it, since most of the information presented was either in an alien language she couldn’t read, or just not relevant to her. Maybe she should have paid more attention though, because she’d missed that the display also included announcements about guests, and right now, a looping video of her and Carol was plastered over the display.
The footage had to have been taken last night, at Raxoria’s club/bar/casino or whatever it was, while she and Carol had been doing the alien version of karaoke.
“I’m kind of offended you didn’t invite me to the wedding, Maria. It looks like it was a beautiful ceremony.”
The other Skrulls at the table murmured in agreement.
“What—but—that’s not a wedding ceremony. We’re not married! That was just karaoke!”
“Yeah, I don’t know what karaoke is, but in this sector of the galaxy, when you sing together like that, to that song, that’s a wedding. You were singing the wedding song together, and that gent playing the Raxorian organ? He was the officiant. So congrats, you and Carol are now lawfully wedded on all planets under the protection of the Nova Corps.”
“Oh,” said Maria faintly. Her head throbbed with both her hangover and the rush of feelings, a wild mix of joy and anxiety and vaguely panicked excitement.
Talos speared a piece of alien fruit with his fork and ate it, studying Maria as he chewed. “That a problem? ‘Cause, seeing you two together, and the way Carol talks about you, I wouldn’t have thought it’d be a problem.”
“Well. Not for me,” she said, because what she’d wanted had never been in question.
How many times had she thought, this would be a marriage, if one of us was a man. They hadn’t lived together, couldn’t risk it, with the Air Force, but in every other way—whether Carol would agree, whether Carol would understand, with who know how many of her memories still hazy or missing, that was what had Maria’s heart pounding.
“What’s not a problem?” asked Carol, and carefully deposited two trays of food on the table: one piled high for herself, and the other with a smaller selection of food. “Maria, you have got to try this Raxorian melon, it’ll settle your stomach, I promise,” she said, offering Maria a piece of some sort of virulently blue fruit.
Maria ate the fruit, right off of the fork Carol offered. “Uh, just—” she started as she chewed on the melon, which, okay, tasted amazing, like a gingery gummy bear, but better, and the sharp almost-spiciness did settle her stomach. Once she’d swallowed, she continued, “Did you know what song we were singing last night? The last one we sang together, I mean?”
“Some Raxorian song, I think, why?”
“It was one of the wedding songs,” said Talos, and Maria glared at him. She’d wanted to ease into it more. “Oh, okay, right, sorry, personal conversation.” He started scooting slowly down the length of the table. “I’ll just, uh, move down here,” he said, and slid himself and his plate over to the far end of the table. He was still well within hearing range, the eavesdropper.
Understanding was dawning on Carol’s face. “One of the wedding songs. Oh. Oh.”
“Yeah,” said Maria.
It was one thing for Carol to be upbeat about fucking after a fun, inhibition-free night, she didn’t need to remember everything they’d been to each other to be okay with that, but marriage? When she probably didn’t even remember everything about the life she’d shared with Maria? Carol had every right to be freaked out by that.
Of course, that was when Shara arrived with Monica and Talara in tow.
“Hi Mom, hi Auntie Carol! What did you guys do last night, did you have fun, me and Talara had the best sleepover ever, and the beach was so awesome this morning, there were these manta ray things shaped like a heart and they were so cute and friendly and I showed Talara how to make a sand castle…”
Maria and Carol exchanged a half-hysterical, half-affectionate look as Monica chattered at top-speed about her time with Talara.
“Okay, okay, slow down, Lieutenant Trouble,” Carol said. “Let’s go get you some food, okay? Then you can tell us all about it.”
Maria mouthed a thank you at Carol as she took Monica over to the buffet, and Carol smiled back at her, only a little strained. We’ll talk later, Carol mouthed back, before returning her attention to a still talking Monica.
As she ate another piece of Raxorian melon, Maria wondered if that was a good talk later, or a time to let Maria down easy kind of talk later. At least she’d know, once and for all, what exactly they were to each other now, after years and light years and so many changes. Maria may not have needed to grieve any more, but it turned out she still needed closure.
They ended up spending most of the rest of the day taking Monica and Talara shopping in Raxoria’s tourist trap shopping district. Monica definitely took advantage of Maria and Carol’s collective distraction to wheedle her way into buying all manner of cheap alien tchotchkes, but Maria didn’t care; she was too busy feeling as floaty and insecure as a pre-teen at a middle school dance, because Carol was holding her hand. Carol was holding her hand, and that had to be a good sign, right? Or was it just a matter of practicality, so they wouldn’t get separated in the crowded market? God, they really had to have their talk already, or Maria was going to go crazy.
“You’re not going to buy anything for yourself?” asked Carol, and Maria startled.
She’d been keeping an eye on the kids, who were giggling as they tried on an assortment of increasingly bizarre hats, but in truth she was mostly preoccupied with the warmth of Carol’s hand in hers, and her circular thoughts about this whole married-on-an-alien-planet situation.
“What?”
Carol nodded in the general direction of the store’s jewelry section.
“You wanna get anything to commemorate your first outer space vacation? You like earrings, right?”
Maria did like earrings. She hadn’t been able to wear them often, not while on active duty, but she had a small, cherished collection of stud earrings.
“Yeah, I do. You remember that?”
“I remember more than you seem to think I do, babe,” said Carol, and tugged her along to the jewelry display case.
It was almost like looking out a star-filled sky, the big class cabinet of jewelry on display against a backdrop of some rich black cloth, each piece of jewelry like its own constellation or nebula, twinkling brightly against the dark. Necklaces and bracelets were pretty universal, but there were all kinds of pieces of jewelry that Maria had no idea where they went on a person, alien or otherwise: things with an alarming number of spikes, jewels that floated in the air all on their own, lacy and impossibly delicate little nets of chains and jewels. There were rings too, a lot of them, many of them sized for human-ish fingers.
Carol rested her chin on Maria’s shoulder. “Or maybe,” Carol said quietly, “I could get you a ring.”
Maria sucked in a breath so sharply that it was almost a gasp. “Don’t joke with me about that, Carol. I know neither of us planned on waking up married on account of some alien karaoke.”
“Who says I’m joking? I may be fuzzy on some of the details, but I know I’d have given you a ring years ago, if I could’ve.”
Carol wrapped her arms around Maria’s waist and god, the things Maria wanted to do, to say, but she was in a gift shop on an alien planet and her daughter was trying to convince her to buy her souvenirs.
“Mom! Can I get this hat?” asked Monica, beaming pleadingly as she modeled said hat for her and Carol. The hat featured brightly colored rings that were floating above and around Maria’s head, tilted at crazy angles like the rings around a planet, with no visible support.
“No, honey, you can’t take that back to Earth with you, you can’t explain a hat that’s defying the laws of gravity.”
“Awww, Mom!”
“No, Monica! Pick something else,” she said, and leaned back against Carol. It was time to ask, once and for all. “So last night—that wasn’t just a—a drunk and horny kinda situation.”
“It was never a drunk and horny situation before, was it? I know things have changed, that I’ve changed, but—I remember you, I remember us, in all the ways that matter, Maria. I promise.”
Maria threaded her fingers through Carol’s, and squeezed tightly. “Alright,” she whispered. “So let’s do this the Earth way too, then. Buy me a ring.” She pointed to a simple reddish gold band that gleamed with purple highlights. It reminded her of Carol, when she went all supernova. “That one.”
“You got it,” said Carol, and then gift shop be damned, Maria had to turn around and kiss Carol, the long and deep kiss she’d been wanting to share with her all damned day.
Carol was smiling too wide to make it easy though, and Maria was smiling too, so they ended up just laughing and clutching at each other, until Carol waved a hand and shouted for the shopkeeper.
The ring, it turned out, looked absolutely perfect, like a piece of Carol’s star fire wrapped snug and tight around her ring finger. And an alien gift shop on a resort planet wasn’t really any weirder of a place to get married than an alien karaoke bar, Maria reasoned.
“Oh my god, Mom, is that a ring, did Auntie Carol get you a ring? Does that mean you’re married now? Not fair, I never got to go to any wedding!” Carol and Maria burst into laughter again, and only laughed harder as Monica stomped her foot. “Mom, it’s not funny! When did you get married? Mom!”
Their space vacation turned space honeymoon was over far too soon, and it wasn’t long before Maria had to come back down to Earth, both literally and figuratively. It was a soft landing, at least, after a long and joyful glide.
“Think of it like me being deployed,” said Carol as she hugged Maria tightly. “I’ll send messages whenever I can, and I’ll be back for shore leave.”
“Gotta admit, I never expected to be a military wife in quite this way,” joked Maria shakily.
Carol let her go, but only so she could beam at her. “My wife! That’s really not gonna stop being exciting any time soon, babe,” she said, and showered her in kisses until Maria forgot all her worries about Carol jetting off into outer space.
They kept kissing, right out there in Maria’s backyard, until their happy kisses turned sweeter, then deeper and more desperate because this was it, Carol was about to leave again, and who knew when she’d be back.
“I gotta go, sorry,” murmured Carol between kisses, and Maria realized she was going to have to be the one to push Carol into flight.
She was going to have to be the one to let Carol go.
So she did, and it didn’t even break her heart like she’d been so scared it would. She believed Carol when she said she’d be coming back. And if she ever worried or doubted that, she had the ring around her finger to remind her.
“I know, I know, go be a hero out there. We’ll be waiting for you here,” Maria said, then smiled at Carol, sly and bright. “We’ll take a regular old Earth vacation on your next visit.”
“Oh yeah?” asked Carol, raising an eyebrow even though her eyes were bright with tears. “Where to?”
“You’ll find out when you come back!” she said, and was rewarded with Carol’s laugh as she launched herself up into the sky, like Maria’s own beloved comet gone out in the unfathomable dark of space.
She watched until she could no longer see the streak of Carol’s light in the sky, and watched longer still as stars began to shine in the twilit sky. Like any comet, Carol would swing around again, no matter how irregular her orbit got. Maria could wait for the next time she streaked across Earth’s sky.