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"You know that none of us will say anything if you bring someone back, right?" Andy asks, stretched over the chair, hands combing through Quynh's hair. Quynh, on the verge of sleep, hums in agreement.
Nile sees Booker look down at his hands and away from Andy and Quynh and she gives him a small smile as she turns back to Andy.
"Nah, I don't do that," she says, nerves fluttering through her gut.
"Waiting for a special person?" Andy asks, arching an eyebrow. She yelps when Quynh mercilessly pinches her leg, glaring up at her.
"Don't be such an ass, Andy," Nile says, rolling her eyes. It's the plane conversation all over again and no matter how many times Nile has had this conversation, her stomach still drops.
"I don't date, I dont have sex. I'm aroace," Nile says, picking at the skin on her fingers. She sees Joe and Nicky tilt their heads, a whispered conversation flitting through the room. "Aromantic and Asexual," she clarifies.
"Has that been difficult?" Joe asks, fingers curled through Nicky's hair, making it stick up at odd angles. Nile shrugs, thinking about it. She thinks about being a teenager and not understanding why so many of her friends were obsessing about going to prom with someone. She remembers being into art to the point of distraction.
"Yes and no?" Nile asks, see-sawing her hand. She sees Booker looking over at her, face shadowed and she's curious as to what he's thinking. Nile thinks back to watching her friends find happiness and thinking she'd be content to live close to them and do her own thing.
Seems like she's gotten closer to that than she would have thought at eighteen.
"It was difficult when I didn't have the words for it. I didn't know why I didn't feel all these things my friends were feeling. I liked stories about romance because I liked stories about people. But it was never something I saw for myself. It wasn't something I wanted," Nile explains, watching Booker appear struck by her description. He looks away from her, down to his hands where his book is splayed open.
"It's hard when people don't try to understand it. I don't think my Mom understood it," Nile says, biting her lip. She tries to not think of her Mom, tries to not miss her so severely, "I didn't honestly understand it myself until I was in my twenties."
"Nile," Andy says softly, looking over at her. Something like regret shines in her eyes and Nile waves her off.
"You were an ass, Andy. Don't do it again. I'm gonna go sit outside though," Nile says, heaving herself off of the couch. She makes her way past them, squeezing Andy's shoulder to show that she isn't angry. Outside, the chairs are damp from the evening rainstorm, water glistening on every available surface like scattered diamonds in the full moon.
She sits in silence, listening to the hum of insects and the electricity that courses through the small safe house. Nile finds her thoughts meandering, wondering about Booker's expression and about the way Nicky had looked pensive about her words. She knows he'll have questions and it warms her to think about the care these people show her.
Nile used to wonder if she would ever have a full life - if she would ever find something even close to contentment. She brushes her fingertips over the cross at her neck, sliding it along the chain that's been replaced so many times over the years. The cross has turned from near constant contact with her skin but she can't bring herself to shed this last piece of her first life.
The door opens and Nile looks up to see Andy, offering a beer.
"Peace offering," Andy says as Nile takes the bottle from her. Andy fishes the bottle opener out of her pocket, popping the top of hers and then Nile's bottles. The wink of metal flashes through the night as Andy flicks the caps into the grass before them. Andy lowers herself to sit on the steps, toes curling around the edge as she gets comfortable.
"I don't need a peace offering."
"Okay, then. An apology."
Andy takes a sip of her beer, looking out at the night sky, eyes tracking something only Andy sees.
"The stars are different from my first life, you know. These aren't the same stars I first loved Quynh under," Andy says, tilting her head as Nile watches her. Nile knows that sometimes Andy needs to take the long way around to her point and she lets her, eager to hear about Andy's past.
"Quynh was the oldest of five. All girls," Andy says, edging her thumb around the label on her bottle. Nile takes a long swallow of her beer as Andy fidgets. "One of her sisters, I can't remember which one, wasn't born that way."
Andy looks over to Nile, Nile's breath catching as she thinks over it. Nile thinks about all the times she felt alone, how she felt like maybe she wasn't trying hard enough. She thinks of her brother, now long passed, and misses him so much she can't breathe. She remembers nursing him through the surgeries and their trip to the beach, the last time she was home. Nile thinks about the way he had removed his shirt for the first time, sans binder, scars still fresh, and her chest aches with the memory of Trevor.
"My brother was Trans too," Nile says, meeting Andy's eyes. "Like Quynh's sister."
"People will always be people. The terms change, but sometimes a person doesn't quite match their body," Quynh says from the doorway. Nile looks up at her, smiling softly. Quynh leans down, pressing a light kiss to her forehead before she joins Andy.
Nile watches them as Andy bites at her thumbnail, worrying it as Quynh mutters something in Vietnamese, pulling Andy's hand away. Andy looks over to Nile, worry across her face.
"I don't want you to think that I don't support or believe you. I spoke without thinking and I hope you know that I'm sorry for being callous," Andy says as Nile's breath catches. Andy reaches up, resting her hand on the armrest of the chair.
"Andy," Nile says, scooting out of the chair to sit with Andy and Quynh, hugging them both. "I know you didn't mean it like that. It sucks that you said it, but it means a lot that you're apologizing."
Andy squeezes her tight, draping an arm around Nile's shoulders as the others join them. Joe and Nicky fit themselves into the chair that Nile was in, crammed together in a way that looks uncomfortable but Nicky beams at her when she smiles over at him.
"Come sit with us, Book," Nile says, looking over to Booker. Booker holds himself apart, sitting just out of reach, watching the sky. Booker looks over and Quynh holds out her hand, making a grabby motion as Booker huffs, shifting over so they're sitting in a knot of limbs.
They sit together, Nicky and Joe gently arguing with Quynh over the best way to fix a local dish that Nile didn't catch the name of. Booker stays quiet, eyes darting between Nile and the night sky. Quynh's hand is wound around his forearm and his leg presses against Nile's back.
"You okay?" Nile asks as Booker blinks at her, seemingly startled. Her voice is quiet, lost to just the two of them as Andy joins the bickering with Joe, Nicky, and Quynh.
"Oh. Yeah. I'm good, Nile," Booker says, tilting his face up to look at the moon better. He leaves it like that, smiling a little when Nile nudges his leg lightly.
"You better not be lying," Nile says gently, smiling at him. Booker huffs out a laugh, gently throwing his free arm around her shoulder. He squeezes her lightly, leaving his arm there companionably.
"Not to you, ma fée," Booker says, as Nile leans into him, making herself comfortable, conversation flowing around them.
===
It takes a few days of travel, close quarters, and a truly boring mission before Nicky asks the questions that have been building. Nile and Nicky flow between yoga positions seamlessly, a familiarity built between each other after years of doing yoga together.
It's later, both sitting on their mats, collecting themselves through the warm burn of used muscles that Nicky asks.
"When you say aromantic, is it only one kind of love or all love?" he asks, crossing his legs over each other as she stretches her neck. She thinks about it, letting the silence stretch companionably. She chooses her words carefully with Nicky, knowing he does the same; Nile hums softly, settling back to watch him.
"For me, and I'm certainly not speaking for anyone else," she clarifies as Nicky nods, "I don't experience romantic love. I still feel love for my friends and family. I just don't have an interest in romance for myself personally."
Nile reaches out, gently grabbing onto Nicky's hand, angling for a hand massage but equally content with holding his hand.
"Have you ever thought you were in love like that?"
"I pretended I was in high school," Nile answers, letting Nicky manipulate her wrist and hand in a massage as if that wasn't the whole reason why she reached for him.
"And how did that go?"
"Badly," she says dryly as Nicky snorts in amusement. He presses his thumbs into the heel of her hand, making her fingers flex as she elaborates, "I didn't know, you know? I just knew that he wanted to kiss and I didn't mind it. But he wanted more and I kept pretending like I liked him or I loved him and it was just. So boring."
She laughs ruefully, shaking her head as Nicky picks up her other hand.
"Like, I kept thinking, 'is this really what all my friends are going crazy over?'" Nile says, picking up her newly freed hand to wipe at the sweat beaded on her forehead.
"You weren't lonely?" Nicky asks, tilting his head. Affection rushes through her as she stills his hand, squeezing.
"I mean, I definitely thought I was going to die alone with cats eating my face for a while there," Nile says, trying to make a joke of it. She sobers though, thinking over her teen years, "I've had low moments, though. Being Aro and also being Ace means there's a lot of questions, you know? Am I faking it? Am I broken? What happens if I meet someone, does that invalidate how I felt at nineteen?" Nile asks, trying to avoid the choked feeling in her throat. Nicky lets her be, comfortable in the silence.
"But I met some others from a support group when I was about twenty-two who were also Ace and Aro. I learned, you know, that even if I changed, it wouldn't change me, right? They're just what I'm made of, if that makes sense. Being Aromantic means that romantic love for me isn't something I want. But there's other types of love and connection. Being Asexual means that sex also isn't something I want. I'm not repulsed by it, I'm just not interested, you know? The support I got in my twenties was life-changing, though," Nile says as Nicky hums. Talking to him is comforting, reminding her of conversations with Neela from the group.
"A good support system makes all the difference."
"Did you have that?" Nile asks, letting Nicky hold her hands as she keeps an ear out for Joe and Booker's shouts as they watch the soccer match.
"I had Joe," Nicky says, a soft smile on his face that Nile returns, "It is so different to think of now. I think these labels are good for people to learn for themselves. I was reading about how self-definition was integral to a young person's formation of themselves. It was fascinating."
"Nicky, did you do research?" Nile asks with delight, staring at him. Nicky turns his soft smile to her, leaning over to kiss her forehead as they stand. He pulls her into a hug.
"Of course, sorellina. You are family," Nicky says as Nile hugs him tighter. Out of the corner of her eyes, she can see Joe and Booker watching, Joe's beaming grin is warm and fond and Booker looks struck.
Nile wonders what he's thinking up until Joe joins in on the hug, laughing with them.
===
It's in Prague when Booker finally says something. They're walking around the Mucha museum, Nile stopping to sketch patterns that catch her eye. She doesn't know what she'll do with them, only that the slope of a strong nose and the delicate curl of fingers makes her stop in her tracks.
Booker walks with her, pausing at some when she doesn't, looking them over with casual eyes. Nile hooks her arm through his, walking with them until they sit just outside the museum.
"Wonder if Andy's talked Quynh into jumping out of a plane yet," Nile wonders idly. Booker snorts.
"You say that as if Andy would have to talk Quynh into jumping out of a plane," Booker replies. Nile hugs his arm before shifting around so they can look at each other.
"Something's been bugging you. Wanna talk about it?" Nile asks. Booker looks stricken before he walls his expression off. He looks hesitant and Nile holds herself back from taking his hand in comfort. Booker sits in silence, looking out over the square in front of the museum.
"I don't know if I can say it correctly," Booker says after a few moments of silence. Nile licks her lips, rolling them together slowly as she waits for him to collect his thoughts.
"I got married because it was what I was expected to do. I did husbandly duties because it was what I was expected to do. But since you talked about it, I have found myself wondering if it was what I would have chosen, were society different," Booker says as Nile arches her eyebrow. He makes a face, reaching up to rub at his jawline idly. His eyes flit from her to the square before them before they finally turn to her, watching her.
"I do not mean to say that my Emilia was not my choice. She was spritely but determined. She kept us in line and even when I was arrested for forgery, I knew she'd keep our boys safe. She was a choice I made. But I wonder if I would have chosen differently, were society different."
Nile breathes out slowly, watching him duck his head, face flushing.
"I think," Nile says, voice cracking briefly as she winces, "that is a lot."
She watches Booker wince and she reaches out then, holding his hand in the way that Joe will reach out for anyone who looks like they need it. Nile hopes it grounds him as she goes on.
"It's a lot, but that's okay. And it's okay that you, you know, don't know what the information you have now would have affected you then. Do you."
Here, Nile pauses. Booker looks up at her, blue eyes sad and hopeful all at once.
"Do you experience that kind of love? I mean, if you don't, that's okay. I can't be, like, your therapist. I've just been there, you know? I've always been comforted by thinking that it's a spectrum; I just tend further away from romantic love. And, like, Asexuality is a whole different conversation."
"I loved my boys. I loved Emilia, in my own way," Booker says thoughtfully as Nile nods. She squeezes his hand, smiling when he squeezes back. "But I don't think I have loved like that since they passed."
"But you love the team," Nile says, looking over to him as Booker smiles fondly at her. He slips his arm around her shoulder in a quick hug. It's the most affectionate he's been since he returned from his exile, clearer in his thoughts and mind than any of them had expected.
"Perhaps I will join Nicky in his grand quest of research," Booker says as Nile laughs, hooking her arm behind his back so they can sit and people-watch together.
They sit in silence for a long while, Nile's arm slowly turning numb. She doesn't move, feeling Booker breathing slowly, obviously lost in thoughts. She wonders at not knowing something about yourself for so long, wondering if it's like her Uncle Jay, not knowing he was gay until his fifties.
"I used to think that perhaps the loss of my family and my first life broke me," Booker says after nearly an hour of silence. Nile shifts, wriggling blood flow back into her arm as she looks over to him.
"You know that not feeling like this, like not feeling like you can fall in love or anything like that, doesn't mean you're broken, right?" Nile asks, nerves twisting her stomach painfully as Booker takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly.
"I am beginning to see that, ma fée. I told you that you'd be a good fit for the team," Booker says, smiling at her. Nile's breath punches out of her as Booker stands, offering his hand to her.
"Where to?" Nile asks as Booker hums, pulling his phone out to look at options around them.
"Dinner?" He asks, extending his arm like a gentleman from a period drama.
Which, she supposes, he is.
Her life is so fucking weird, honestly.
"Lead the way, my good sir," she says with a laughably bad British accent that would surely have made Copley cringe. Booker laughs at her, the sound light and warm as they wander to a restaurant for dinner.
Later, heart and stomach equally full, she sits against Booker's legs, letting him take her braids out, slow and methodical. Joe and Nicky are dozing in the chair nearby, Andy and Quynh's laughter as they spar outside drifting through the house. Booker is gentle with her hair, the result of many lessons and Nile finds comfort that her family have learned for her.
"You know that none of us think of you as broken either. Right, Nile?" Booker asks suddenly as Nile sits up straight. She turns to look at Booker over her shoulder, stomach fluttering like a swarm of butterflies are taking flight. Joe and Nicky have woken from their dozing and when Nile meets Booker's eyes, he looks intent.
"I mean it," Booker says. He looks down at his hands and then back to her face, "I think maybe you need to hear that you are not broken either."
"Oh, Book," Nile says softly, heart warming with affection for her family. Booker smiles at her and she knows her hair can wait for later as she crawls up to hug him tight.
They sit like that for a few long moments before Nile slips back to the floor. She loses herself to the movements of Booker's hands in her hair, and the sounds of her family around her.