Wedding Crashers
Posted on Sun Nov 8, 2020 @ 10:28pm by Lieutenant Nicole Anderson & Lieutenant JG Camille Lévesque PhD
6,289 words; about a 31 minute read
Mission:
The Binary Suns
Location: Earth
Timeline: After the rescue
"The time is 0800 hours," the computer chirped.
Nicole sighed and mentally kicked herself for forgetting to disable her normal morning alarm. This was their one day to sleep in during the repair schedule and she'd planned on enjoying it. Her patients had been transported to the hospital at Earth Station McKinley, the Victory was in orbit and undergoing repairs, and she and Camille could have a day to themselves to unwind and process everything, starting with a late breakfast.
Knowing that now that she was awake she wouldn't get back to sleep, she resisted the temptation to wake Camille and decided to let her rest. She carefully slipped out of bed and slipped on a robe, walking into their living and dining area, ordering a cup of coffee from the replicator. She yawned as she sat down behind their office desk in the living area and sipped slowly, savoring the taste as she ran through the daily roster, checked messages and repair schedules and so forth.
She looked up at the sound of a soft footstep and frowned. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to wake you."
"You didn't," Camille said with a yawn. She cinched her robe on her frame and put on her glasses. "The computer voice did. You and I should give her a stern talking-to." She sleepily wandered toward the replicator and ordered herself a latté flavoured with vanilla. The drink materialized and the bespectacled scientist carried it to sofa, where she slowly sat.
"That looks like work," she said, recognizing the layout of a duty roster on the office computer screen even from her seat. "I thought we were going to avoid that today, emergencies aside. Why don't you turn that off and sit with me? I had an idea for what to do today."
"Yes Ma'am," Nicole said, snapping a salute and smiling. She closed her terminal and took her coffee to the sofa, sitting down with a contented sigh and kissing Camille's ear. "What's your idea? Penny take us surfing in the real Hawaii waters? A whirlwind tour of Paris? Find that cabin you showed me and shamelessly make love in front of the fireplace?" She grinned and sipped her drink.
Camille grinned at the kiss and various suggestions. "All good ideas, mon amour, though Penny is busy today and that cabin was in a public park. No, I was thinking of this." She set down her coffee, collected her PADD off the table, and showed Nicole an invitation. "We had to decline. We were supposed to be in Delta for eight more months. But we're here now, and it's today."
Nicole almost choked on her coffee. "Is it the 8th already?" she said, coughing slightly. "I'm sorry, t'hy'la," she said. "I completely lost track of the calendar. Do you think they'll be able to make room for us?"
“I’m sure they will,” Camille said with a smile. “People usually cancel at the last minute for emergencies. And I feel like after that dinner they owe us.”
"Well then, that's that," Nicole said. "I'll hop in the sonic shower, and then while you're getting ready, I'll get a furlough from Commander Walker."
“For both of us, please,” Camille suggested. “I’ll get our clothes ready while you’re showering.” She gently ran her hands over Nicole and clutched her robe.
"Excellent," Nicole said, kissing her and standing up. "First the wedding, then the cabin," she said, grinning wickedly. "I do enjoy making a Québécoise blush." She winked and rushed off to the sonic shower.
Camille was left holding a robe, no longer containing a Rigelian-raised human.
She set her glasses on the table, shucked her own robe, and followed Nicole closely. “You’re not getting away that easy,” she said, holding her from behind and gently kissing her neck. “I’ll organize the clothes while you call Walker. I can do other things right now.”
~Later~
The Cathédral Saint-Jérôme was young compared to many of Earth’s larger and more famous places of worship. Built in 1897, when the nation was close to Camille’s age, it was where members of both sides of her family were baptized, confirmed, and married going back centuries. Camille and her sisters took their First Communion here, and also performed their First Confession.
Today, it was decorated beautifully. White flowers adorned the outside. Crowds milled about, some making their way inside while others enjoyed the company of friends and relatives not seen for ages.
Camille had not been back for years. Since Marc and Lucille’s wedding? No, Colette’s baptism. She had missed more ceremonies and rites when her duties at the Academy, on Jupiter Station, or aboard the Victory prevented her attendance.
Back in her quarters, Camille stood in her Starfleet Dress Uniform, ready to beam down and surprise her family.
She had chosen the Dress Uniform in part for simplicity (no time to have something formal tailored and made) but also to remind herself and her family that she was a Starfleet Officer, and that Starfleet Officers could spare the time for those they cared about.
It helped that she looked fantastic in it.
Nicole clucked her tongue as she adjusted her bra. "Honestly, you're wearing that?" she said, only half jokingly.
“What’s wrong with this?” Camille asked.
"Just seems a bit...well I mean..." she frowned. "Your sister isn't in Starfleet. Providence knows, your family isn't too keen on it. I'd worry our showing up in uniform would send the wrong message."
“It sends the message that the bride’s Starfleet Officer sister is there for her, and can make the time for the big events.”
Nicole gave a mildly sardonic smile. "I think we've established they know you're an officer," she said. "And our being there shows you can make time when you can make time."
“Well it’s not like we can have new dresses tailored at the last minute,” Camille observed. “And we’re meant to attend formal events in these. That’s the whole point.”
"I was thinking why not the dresses from Cass' wedding? You look as beautiful as a sunrise in yellow," Nicole said, glowing. "And it's a style that works in your region. My violet dress looked good on me, I'll admit. Would certainly add some color to what I'm sure will be a very white-lace affair, non?"
Camille considered the suggestion. It had its merits. The dresses fit fantastically, tailored as they were by ‘magic’, and looked great. And she didn’t want to make her family feel bad. She hoped they wouldn’t, but it was a risk, and there was room for compromise.
“Let’s beam the dresses down with us,” Camille suggested, “and leave them at my parents’ house. We wear dress uniforms for the formal ceremony, and change for the reception. I’m sure maman et papa will let us change in my old room. Qu’en penses-tu?”
"Bonne idée, ma jolie dame" Nicole said, grinning.
Camille gently gave her girlfriend a peck on the lips and set about finding the dresses in their closet. “Get dressed, and I’ll have the Transporter Chief beam these down for us.” She also found a small jewelry box and grabbed an item from it.
"Smashing," Nicole said, beginning the ever-strenuous effort of getting into a formal uniform without a single wrinkle forming. She paused as an idea hit her and reached over to the communications panel on her nightstand. "Anderson to Naroot."
"Go ahead," Penny said, her voice echoing slightly inside a Jeffries tube.
"Penny, Camille and I need a personal favor. Could you come to our quarters?" Nicole said.
"As much as I love you both, I don't really have time for that, right now," Penny said.
"No, no, no," Nicole said, annoyed, "not that. I just need the help of someone with nimble fingers."
"Honestly, Nic, there's a lot to do here," Penny said.
Nicole rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Beep, beep, Penny! We need your help with our hair. We're going to Camille's sister's wedding."
"Oh!" Penny said. "Well, in that case, I'll take a break in ten and come over."
"Thank you, oh so much," Nicole groused, closing the channel. She pulled her uniform on quickly and began packing.
She paused halfway through, a thought occurring to her. She moved to her cedar chest and opened it, rummaging through her various bottles and boxes, finally pulling one out. She hefted it, thinking, then placed it by her duffel and sat behind her desk, accessing the communications system.
A moment later, a smiling, older Rigellian was looking at her. "Tonk'peh, hinek," he said, warmly.
"Tonk'peh, Hanopar," Nicole said, grinning. "I need a favor."
"Name it," he said.
"How quickly could you have your brother ship another bottle of his reserve to me at Earth?" she said.
He thought a moment. "I could have it to you in a day or so," he said. "But to get him to part with another bottle? You may have to marry one of his sons."
"I'll propose first thing, if my current soulmate doesn't work out, I promise," Nicole said, grinning at the joke. "Tell him whatever he wants in exchange, it's his."
"He'll hold you to that," Hanopar said, chuckling. "I take it it's for a special occasion?"
"Extremely," Nicole said, then blew him a kiss. "Thank you."
"Anything for you, hinek," he said, smiling fondly. "Fun-tor ha-kel, na'tra din-tor'et."
Nicole blew him another kiss and closed the channel.
“What was that about?” Camille asked, returning to their quarters without the two dresses.
"Oh!” Nicole said, turning around. "Well, I needed a replacement for something," she said, holding up a bottle of deep golden liquid. "I don't know about human customs, but on Rigel, at joining ceremonies, we give a gift." She handed Camille the bottle. "This is similar to the brandy we've had, but only one farmer grows it, and in very limited quantities. It's also been aged for about half a century, so it should be smoother than Tholian silk." She smiled at Camille. "I thought we could give this to your sister and her husband."
“I love it!” Camille said gleefully. “And I know they will too. This is the sort of thing I know Sylvain particularly likes. First time I met him, the restaurant did sample flights of their drinks, and we all tried whiskeys from across the Federation. He’s a drink connoisseur and he’s taught my sister a lot. I’m sure he’d appreciate this quite a bit.”
The beam-down was uneventful, and suddenly there were two formally dressed women, an MD and a PhD, looking at the cathedral.
Nicole gave a long, low whistle. "Impressive," she said. "Your people really do things...tall."
Despite it's impressive height, the building was significantly smaller than Notre Dame in Paris, and almost 800 years younger. But that did not prevent it from having a special place in Camille’s heart. Here was where Camille had taken all the major steps of her faith, her sisters at her side. Even though her relationship with her family had been strained for half her life, and was only recently improving, his place offered only fond memories of community and togetherness.
At the base of the stairs was a simple sign that read, “Mariage Rochefort-Lévesque”.
They were ten minutes early for the start of the ceremony. Early enough to get inside without causing any trouble, but late enough that other relatives were probably already seated. Renée would be with her bridesmaids, which would probably count little sister Mathilde and their mother among them. Their father would be ready to walk her down the aisle. Sylvain would be in the back room with his friends. Relatives might notice them, but most wouldn’t know that Camille said she couldn’t be there.
“Shall we?” Camille asked, holding her hand out to Nicole.
Nicole smiled and took her hand, giving it a squeeze as they walked to the entrance. A gentleman stood there and gave the ladies a smile.
"Bonjour," he said. "Invitations, s'il vous plaît."
Nicole stepped away from Camille and walked up to the young man. "Of course," she said, looking him in the eye. As hers turned red, his glazed over. "Now, be so kind as to seat us on the bride's side."
The man nodded and gestured into the church towards rows of elongated benches with people looking forward, waiting.
“I knew there was a reason I kept you around,” Camille joked. “Access to the best parties.”
Nicole slipped into the row of people on the bench, shaking her head as Camille sat next to her. "And all this time I thought it was my sunny disposition," she drawled.
“And you make fantastic arm candy,” Camille joked back. She wrapped her arm around Nicole’s and squeezed her hand playfully.
"True," Nicole conceded, squeezing her hand back and attempting to get comfortable on a wooden bench.
“This ceremony will be a bit long,” Camille advised Nicole. “I made certain that our UTs will give us the best possible translations, but religious sacrament isn’t something that easily translates. Not every guest will be familiar with every step, so there will be written guides for us to follow. When to say what.”
Nicole looked at the booklet the usher had given them. "Yes, well, I'll just refer to the instruction manual if I get lost," she said.
“I love that you’ll be able to be part of this with me,” Camille said softly. “Renée and Sylvain are not only committing to each other, but also consecrating that commitment with God. The vows are considered more serious, as it’s not only a vow made to the one you love, but also to the Lord.”
"Fascinating," Nicole said. "Can't say I understand entirely, but I get the concept."
“What are marriage rituals like on Rigel?”
"A bit like human weddings. Guests sorted based on the brides' or the grooms', sides and then organized by numbers. Rows and columns of seats are arranged for the best numerical arrangement to ensure a prosperous marriage. If it's multiple couples together, it can be done in a theater-in-the-round style as well to accommodate more sections. The ceremony lasts about twenty minutes. Parents give six kisses to their child and then sit down, then the numerologist officiating dictates the combinations that are in effect and predicts--hopefully--a long and happy union. The couples exchange an ek'zera and the they're pronounced combined. Then it's off to the celebration and generally a lot of food, alcohol, singing, dancing, some debauchery among the young and ashaya-has-bosh." She smiled at Camille and winked.
In that moment, Camille was glad for two things: that she was learning Rigelian and understood that term, and that the vast majority of her family didn’t have universal translators. Though if they did, they might be more forgiving when the bespectacled blonde began giggling uncontrollably.
An older woman with a wrinkled face, white hair, and a stern expression turned to shush her, though her eyes lingered as she tried to place Camille’s familiar face.
“Pardonnez-moi, s’il-vous-plaît, Madame Ruest.” Camille got her giggling under control and pushed her glasses back up her nose. “Nicole, this is Madame Ruest. She taught all three of us when we were little. She still teaches at the school where Renée works.”
Nicole inclined her head and smiled. "A pleasure to meet you," she said.
The older woman smiled. “It has been too long, Camille. But behave yourself!”
“Yes, madame.”
"Honestly," Nicole sighed, dialing up her accent to sound a bit more upper crust. "Cannot take you anywhere, young woman, can I?" she grinned wickedly and settled back, looking forward at the alter, the light streaming through the stained-glass windows making the laurel wreath braid on her head glow like a halo.
A short while later, the music changed. Sylvain appeared with his brother and three best friends, and stood in front of the altar next to Monseigneur Chartrand, who at age 121 still officiated all the weddings here. The congregation, Camille and Nicole included, stood, and four women in dresses that would have been beautiful if not for their awful burgundy colour walked down the aisle one at a time. Two of them Camille recognized as her sister’s two closest friends. Next came Camille’s mother (she and Renée had always been close, and became genuine friends as adults) and then Mathilde. The latter two noticed Camille and Nicole. Her mother briefly looked shocked, but regained her composure and walked on. Mathilde simply grinned and took her place.
Next came Renée, being escorted down the aisle by her father. Her dress (white, of course) had a mermaid silhouette and was solid in colour and texture. It was strapless and it reached just to the floor. There was little that stood out, but on Renée, simple things often looked elegant and beautiful. She wore a veil which had an intricate pattern in the lace. A necklace Camille recognized as belonging to their grandmother encircled her neck. Her father’s smile was sincere, but Camille saw the sadness in his eyes as he prepared to, in the traditional manner, give away his little girl.
And already Camille was beginning to tear up.
Nicole wrapped her arm around Camille's, taking her hand, lacing their fingers together, and giving her hand a squeeze.
"Bloody hell, your people are indecisive," Nicole said as they materialized outside. They'd had the ship beam them back to Camille's home, and beamed their garment bags and gift down so they could change into something more celebratory for the reception.
“Indecisive?” Camille asked. Her people were many things, good and bad, but she didn’t think that was one of them.
"Kneel or don't kneel. Stand or sit. Pick one," Nicole said as they walked up the steps to the front door. "Other than that, it was a lovely ceremony."
“That it was,” Camille replied.
"So," Nicole said as they reached the door, "shall we knock?" she gave Camille an impish grin.
The blonde stuck her tongue out at Nicole and tried to pull it back as quickly as she could. It wasn’t fast enough, and became trapped in Nicole's nimble fingers.
"Hmmm," Nicole observed, holding Camille fast. "Only got you by the tip of your tongue this time," she said, grinning.
“I’m getting faster,” Camille said once released, not entirely convinced of her own words. “And you’re never going to let me live that knocking down, are you?”
"Non," Nicole said, smiling. "Not until I forget your teasing me for forgetting a tent."
“Un autre non,” Camille replied with a grin. She had an updated access code and her parents knew that the two of them were going to go there to get changed. The house was empty, and no one else was expected to go there until very late at night.
“The Transporter Chief beamed our things to my old room,” Camille said. “Remember where it is?” Camille’s mother had given Nicole the grand tour when they’d last visited.
"I think so," Nicole said, heading for the stairs. She paused at the bottom and turned around, looking concerned. "What's that?" she said, pointing across towards the other side of the room.
Camille turned around with urgency, wondering if the house she grew up in was on fire or if something had broken.
With Camille's back turned, Nicole sprinted up the steps, laughing all the way. Camille followed as closely as she could, giggling as she bounded up the steps.
The room wasn’t exactly as Camille had left it. The bed, end table, and dresser were still there, as were the desk, chair, and lamp, but personal belongings had been removed well over a decade ago. The bedroom was Camille’s for all time, and everyone knew that she had first rights to it, but it was also agreed to be a guest room, usually reserved for children. That they had not replaced the twin-sized bed with something bigger was a testament to Camille’s mother’s sentimentality.
Once inside the bedroom behind Nicole, Camille closed the door and began undoing her dress uniform jacket.
"You know," Nicole said, shucking her uniform top and looking around, "I can see you in here, studiously working on your homework, having a tea party, snuggling in bed with your teddy bear, dreaming of microscopes and alien flora and fauna samples." She snickered as she kicked off her dress pants, dropping down onto Camille's bed. "I bet you were adorable."
“I. Was. The cutest.” Camille finished removing her jacket and began working on the shirt underneath and then her pants. “Monsieur Ourson is probably somewhere in the house. Not those first collected samples though. Homework was at that desk.” Shirt and pants off, she climbed onto the bed and tucked herself in, moving her legs to one side so Nicole could still sit. The bedsheets were pulled all the way up to her neck, like it was a cold winter night. “Reading right here, under the covers and under the light of that lamp. Transported to worlds I never thought I’d get to visit.”
"Having grand adventures, meeting fascinating creatures of unparalleled beauty," Nicole said, preening a bit for effect.
“You know,” Camille said, a sly smile forming on her face. “There is one thing I never did in this room.”
"Oh?" Nicole said, looking down at her and grinning at the look on her face. "And what would that be, then?"
Camille’s hands emerged from under the bed, holding her bra and panties. “Devinez.” She sat up, holding the blankets to herself, and gently kissed her girlfriend’s lips.
Nicole let out a growl and immediately moved to match her girlfriend's position, intending to immediately rectify the gap in her experience.
The photographer had finished taking photos with family first, so that Camille and Nicole could saunter off to get changed. Photos with the bridal party came next, and once they were done, Mathilde returned to her parents' house to retrieve a few necessary supplies for the reception.
She expected to hear Camille and Nicole talking as they got into their dresses, but silence reigned across the Lévesque house.
"Camille?"
She crept up the stairs and listened for her sister. Finally, she caught the sound of...whimpering? Was Camille upset by something? What had that Rigelian salope done to hurt her big sister?! She walked purposefully to Camille's bedroom door and opened gently to assess her sister's emotional state.
One of the joys of a solid relationship built on mutual love and understanding was a complete openness with one another. A freedom to bring down one's emotional barriers and be completely vulnerable, yet still feel relatively safe. Nicole used to think that was complete tripe, given that the idea of dropping her guard was inconceivable to her. She still had issues with it, but now and then, when she was feeling light and happy and alone with her t'hy'la, she sometimes felt brave enough to let her emotions overwhelm her and surrender control of herself.
In Camille's home she wasn't quite that at ease, but her sweetheart had done a thorough job of relaxing her brains out to the point where she'd been whimpering from the effort. Finally she let go, and her whimper built up to a shout. Her blood rushed in her ears, her eyes blazed red, and the briefest hint of her fangs emerged as she let the sensations course through her and she opened her eyes to see heaven.
Except, instead, she heard a gasp of terror, and saw the innocent face of her younger sister-in-law staring in horror at her. Proper modesty was out the window, given how much of Nicole was exposed, but she could tell exactly what Mathilde was staring at, and her hand flew not to her body, but to her mouth while she turned her head, looking down in embarrassment. "Cami!" she said, quickly.
Hearing the gasp that wasn't Nicole's, Camille lifted and turned her head to find her sister, blanched face, eyes wide, and clutching the door frame of Camille's childhood bedroom. Her immediate priority was making certain that Mathilde's head didn't hit the ground as she fainted, so she bolted to the door and caught her by the arm, guiding her gently down to the floor.
Only two minutes had passed before Mathilde's eyes began to flutter open. By then, Camille and Nicole had put on robes and were working to make sure the younger Lévesque was okay. Nicole was looking away when Camille noticed her sister was waking up, and summoned the doctor to come closer. "It's okay, Mathilde. Tout va bien. We caught you and you're safe."
Nicole approached cautiously, like a skittish animal. She looked the younger girl over. Elevated heart rate, adrenaline system overloaded, extreme shock, she diagnosed, her brain already collating all the observable symptoms. "T-t-try t-taking slow, s-s-steady breaths," Nicole said, while simultaneously trying to control her own breathing.
"Hey," Camille said, gently putting a hand on Nicole's shoulder. "Deep breaths. Everything is okay."
Nicole shook her head gently. "Slow and steady," she said, quietly.
Mathilde slowly sat up and looked at Nicole. Her eyes widened again and she tried to back away, not saying a word, but Camille took her by the hand, while Nicole scooted back a half step, eyes watering.
"I said, it's okay," she repeated for a third time. "Mathilde, yes, it's true that my girlfriend isn't fully human. You already knew she wasn't Terran, she was raised on Rigel. Now, Rigelians aren't like that, but still."
"W-w-" Mathilde started to say. "W-what is she?" Memories of old horror stories went through her head and some of them matched up to what she saw a few minutes earlier.
"If I had a strip of latinum...." Nicole muttered.
"We can't get into that right now," Camille replied calmly. "It's complicated and classified so highly I'm not even sure I'm allowed to know. But you and the family are safe. She loves me, and I love her. There's nothing to be scared of." She smiled softly. "If it helps, you walked in on me with someone of a species you've never seen." It was close enough to reality. "I'm just sorry you had to see your big sister having sex."
Nicole decided to put her commentary on human social customs on hold and tucked her legs under her, trying to look demure and harmless. If Mathilde hadn't been there she probably would have tackled Camille to the ground and smothered her with kisses for saying that in front of someone, especially given Nicole's recent conduct.
Instead, she looked at Mathilde and offered a weak smile. "For what it's worth," she said, "you're still my favorite sister."
That made Mathilde smile and laugh weakly. "Merci." She looked at Camille and half her smile widened into a smirk. "Think we can finally get Papa to install locks on the bedroom doors?"
"We are NOT telling Papa," Camille replied firmly, but smirking too. "Besides, it wouldn't work. He took down both of our homemade locks within hours of them going up. Remember?" She stood and helped pull her sister to her feet. "We came home to get changed into nicer dresses for the reception and got..."
"Distracted?" Mathilde offered.
"Her fault," Nicole said, chucking a thumb at Camille and slumping a bit with relief.
Colour came to Camille's cheeks. "She's not wrong." She checked a wall clock. "We should get dressed and go. The reception should start soon."
"You two finish," Mathilde said and turned to leave, but she stopped herself and turned back. "Getting dressed. Finish getting dressed. We'll walk over together and you can help me carry over some things."
She turned again to leave, but stop herself a second time and looked at Nicole, grinning. "Did she try to knock when she got to the front door?"
Nicole looked offended and folded her arms, crossly. "Mathilde, how dare you tease her about that. Don't you know how embarrassed she was?" She held her expression, then broke out in a smile. "Besides, I already teased her about it."
“Good.” Mathilde left the bedroom and left the two alone.
Nicole pulled herself to a standing position on somewhat shaky legs and pulled Camille into a hug. "Love you," she said. "And thank you."
“I meant every word, mon amour,” Camille replied, returning the hug.
"Now, super quick shower, dress, and off we go, yes?"
“Yes.”
The dinner was exquisite, the speeches moving, and the music beautiful.
Space had been made for Camille and Nicole at a table with some of the bride’s cousins, all of whom wanted to hear stories from the Delta Quadrant, which Camille was all too eager to share. Nicole sat there, silent for once, and smiling, watching Camille bubble and glow around her family.
By 2330, the oldest guests had gone home. Only the contemporaries of the bride and groom remained, drinking, dancing, and making merry. Camille sat a moment, letting her feet recover from hours of being on them.
A few moments later, Nicole was escorted back to the table by a handsome young man, who sat her down, kissed her hand, said something she couldn't quite make out and stepped away.
Nicole sat back, and let out a breath, slipping a shoe off and rubbing her heel. "So, we're even now," she said.
“Oh?”
"My nephew proposed to you, your cousin proposed to me. I say the three of us meet up with Ja'reth, and have a lovely four-way wedding on the shore of Peshla lake."
Camille laughed. “Benoit? Really? Mon Dieu, I didn’t think he had it in him.” She grinned and leaned in to kiss Nicole on the cheek. “He has good taste.”
Nicole smiled and blushed a bit, taking Camille's hand. "So do I," she said, kissing it.
The bride and groom, taking their own break from the dancing, stopped at Camille and Nicole’s table. Renée opened her arms and, when Camille stood, took her sister in a big hug. “It means a lot that you came, Camille.”
“You know I’d do everything in my power to make it,” Camille replied softly. “I go where they send me, but we do have some rights.”
“I know,” Renée said. “But it’s hard not to think the worst sometimes.” She pulled back and looked closely at her sister and Nicole. “Your dresses are beautiful. Where did you get them?”
Camille looked at Nicole, and then back to Renée. “Would you believe me if I said it was magic?” she asked, half jokingly, half awkwardly.
Nicole almost choked on the wine she was sipping and cleared her throat. "Don't tease, t'hy'la," she scolded. "Your sister knows what a replicator is." Her smile was in place, but her gaze was less lighthearted and more stern.
"This wasn't replicated though," Renée observed, ignoring her sister's apparent joke. She gently touched the green stone inside Camille's silver necklace. "What is it?"
Camille smiled fondly at the memory. "A farewell gift, from a friend who used to serve with Nicole and me. It's a Fire Necklace from Vulcan." She held up the stone so light passed through it, and Renée saw what looked like fire dance inside the gem.
"It's beautiful," Renée said before letting go. She then squeezed her sister's hand, bent down to give Nicole a brief hug, and moved on to speak with other guests. Sylvain hugged his new sister-in-law and Nicole as well before following his wife.
Nicole smiled as the happy couple walked away, then sat back and let out a breath. "Well, one awkward moment averted."
“Sorry about that,” Camille said. “I don’t like to lie to them.”
"Rule 29: There is a difference between lying and not telling the truth," Nicole quoted. "Saying a friend made them for us is the simpler answer. People like simple answers."
“You’re not wrong,” Camille admitted. “But it’s also just so wonderful, I want to share. I know I can’t, and why, but it doesn’t stop the impulse.”
Nicole nodded. "I'm spoiled," she said. "My mother knows everything, so I can talk freely in her home. But even Harranipa doesn't know much about what I do outside of Medical. It's for their own safety, really. " She stopped her train of thought. She took Camille's hand and gave it a squeeze. "I'm sorry. I'm sure it must drive you crazy knowing there's something out there you can't analyze, discuss and dissect."
She watched Renee and Sylvain standing together, smiling at each other, blissfully ignorant and happy just to be with each other. "Your sister is very thol'kyi'i," she said at last.
Camille’s glasses couldn’t hide her furrowed brow. “Pardon, the translator didn’t get that. thol’kyi’i?”
"It means...there isn't quite a word," she said. "Noble? No. Admirable?" She folded her arms. "Brave and good," she concluded. "Your religion speaks of 'two flesh becoming one' and 'united beyond death.' A combination of two souls. Imagine being so sure about something, so clear in purpose, love and faith in someone that you're able to make that kind of union...." her voice got a tinge of wonder in it.
Camille smiled and held Nicole’s hand. “I can imagine it.”
Nicole looked at her, then smiled softly and squeezed her hand. "I haven't thought of marriage since Jetar, to be honest."
“Who is Jetar?” Camille asked, curiously. That was a new name to her.
"A young man who stole my heart," Nicole said. "I was head over heels for him. When he kissed me the first time, I was ready to run off to the Soul Clan with him the next day." She looked at Camille's expression and grinned. "I was twelve."
Camille held her hand to her mouth, to help stifle what might have been uproarious laughter. “What happened next?”
Nicole took a long breath and said in as nonchalant a voice as she could, "I got sick." She gave a small shrug and smiled a genuine, contented smile and said without a hint of sadness or irony, "but despite not being joined that day, I, nonetheless, finally met the love of my life."
Camille smiled and rested her head on Nicole’s shoulder.
Nicole looked back at the dance floor and watched the happy couple again. "They're going to have four children."
“What makes you say that?” Camille asked, also watching them.
"I ran their numbers one time, after I first met them," Nicole said. "They're a strong couple. Well matched. And this wedding shows what a strong foundation they have." She counted off the tables, their geometric arrangements, the number of guests, male and female, the number and pattern of beads on the bride's dress, the measurements of the groom's suit, the number of bridesmaids and groomsmen, their birth dates, even the address of the church itself. She tried to keep the math condensed, but summed tried to show how the numbers interacted, and worked together as a cohesive whole.
"Your family is very much about family," Nicole said. "Six is the strongest number for family. Two adults, four children. Two boys, two girls, keeping things in perfect harmony. Renee and Sylvain are both good people who have that calculation written all over them. They won't feel complete with less, and once they have that harmonic resonance in their life, they won't feel the urge for more." She smiled at Camille. "That'll be two bronze coins, by the way," she said, grinning.
“You’re right about Renée,” Camille said, leaning back into her chair. “She was always the good one. And I don’t mean she was always listening and did what she was told, though that’s true too. Non, she had this honesty and purity about her. Whenever Mathilde got into trouble, she was there to help, and when I was listless and in full depression, she just...sat with me, to make sure I knew I wasn’t alone. We didn’t always get along, and you heard us argue at the reunion dinner. But those things don’t really matter. She has a good heart and soul.”
"That's what I saw in you," Nicole said, softly. "That's what I see in Mathilde. Maybe your father has a point in insulating your family somewhat against the modern world. It's kept you all...unsullied."
They sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying each other's company.
“We should probably go soon,” Camille suggested. “I want to say hello to Maxime. Now that Jim Holbridge is back on the Victory, I need to see if he has any stories about him.”
"Smashing," Nicole said. "And I can hear a few more about yourself as well." She stood up and helped Camille to her feet.
END
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