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Barbara has never imagined that Jean would invite her on a mission. Why would Jean ever need her for anything? The Lionfang Knight, watching over Mondstadt as her epithet demands, and who far exceeds Barbara in almost all things possible, requiring her help? Sure, she has dreamed of this possibility. Who wouldn’t? But just two weeks ago, if anyone had so much as suggested that Jean would be the one entreating Barbara’s aid, then Barbara would’ve thought that they were a particularly delusional fan of hers.
Nonetheless, here they are, making their way into Liyue Harbor together.
Barbara’s entire body bubbles with excitement despite the late hour. She can’t wait to get started on learning more about Liyue’s music come morning. What kind of instruments do the people here play? What music do they like? What song might she sing?
But of course, they hit a snag:
“Oh heavens, I am so, so sorry—”
In the next few minutes, Barbara learns that the Mondstadt delegation is the last to arrive in Liyue Harbor after being delayed on their journey. The envoys from the other nations arrived days before them, perhaps cognizant of how crowded the Harbor gets during the spring festival. The distant Snezhnaya even has a sizeable consulate based permanently in the city.
Barbara doesn’t get the details that are written on a scroll so long that when it unfurls, its length is longer than Jean is tall. But when the frazzled-looking secretary lets out a horrified gasp, Barbara gets the feeling that something has gone wrong. The secretary begins apologising hastily about an error, her obvious contrition making Barbara feel a little bad for her.
She feels even worse when the secretary starts bowing repeatedly, mumbling about how they didn’t receive Jean’s follow-up notice to inform them of the extra rooms they’ll need for Barbara’s last-minute addition to the party. The poor girl’s bows are so deep that Barbara’s worried that she’d keel forward and hit her forehead on the counter.
Despite her extensive travels, she has never had cause to dwell long in Liyue Harbor, but the streets seem like they are much fuller than they might usually be. Yujing Terrace is bustling with a sea of well-dressed people in expensive styles from all over Teyvat. It’s not hard to conclude that they have indeed run out of rooms for visiting dignitaries. She can’t imagine that they’re refusing her a room on purpose anyway.
Thus, Barbara ignores the slightly disapproving frown on Jean’s face and offers to get a room by herself in the city.
“Are you… sure?” the secretary ventures to ask, hesitantly. “It’ll be really tough to find a place to stay during the festival. I can try and see if there’s an extra room somewhere; surely, we can manage to find a room for an esteemed guest.”
Barbara shakes her head. “It’s alright! I wouldn’t want to trouble you—”
Jean chooses that moment to step in with an offer. “Why not take my room?”
“I can hardly do that,” Barbara refuses the suggestion immediately. “Your quarters will be used for entertaining… well, whoever you’re going to meet!” Barbara isn’t actually sure who Jean will be meeting over the course of the Lantern Rite here. There’s so little about Jean’s work that she knows of. “In any case, won’t it be a great opportunity for me to take in the sights and stuff? I’m… I’m sure that there’s somewhere.”
“That’s…” The secretary cuts in. “I can give you recommendations, but the best rooms all around the city are already snapped up.”
Barbara only waves a hand airily. “That’s okay. I’m used to camping in the wilds! Don’t worry.”
The last part is mainly directed at Jean, who sucks in a breath, clearly unhappy that Barbara won’t be staying with them. But Jean recognises a losing battle when she sees one, and the set of her sister’s determined mouth stops her from protesting any further.
She relents after a long exhale. “Okay. But if you can’t find anywhere to stay, please, let me know?”
Barbara grins up at Jean. It’ll be alright!
*
Barbara flings the music sheet down, tears springing to her eyes in frustration.
It’s no use! She’ll never get this right. How will she tell Jean that she can’t do what she has asked of her? Oh, Barbara, why are you so hopeless. Why did you even agree to an impossible task… No, no, no. Barbara, you’re not allowed to despair any further. That’ll not help Jean at all!
She sniffles, clenching her fist as she forces herself to smile. Barbara Pegg, you’ve got this.
Come on Barbara, come on. You’ve managed to find someplace to stay – doing the impossible in a pre-holiday week. You can write a song in a week’s time!
A half-hour later, Barbara groans as she cradles her head in her hands. Nothing is working out. Sitting in a corner of the Heyu Tea House to watch the performances has done nothing for her songwriting process. For someone with a Hydro Vision, her inspiration is running painfully dry. If only a flick of her catalyst can grant her a new song…
But alas, the flawless performances of Heyu Tea House’s main attraction have only served to drive a deeper sense of hopelessness into Barbara. How could she possibly compare to that effortlessly elegant poise? The performances have drawn what seems like the whole city to crowd around the small stage, their gazes fixated on the way the girl snaps her fan to the light aria of her voice. The girl’s voice trills to a crescendo with ease, earning little oohs and ahhs from her admiring onlookers.
To her dismay, Barbara finds tears running down her cheeks again. Her poor handkerchief is already completely damp from an earlier bout of self-pity. The performers of Liyue are talented, there’s no doubt about that. How could she compare to all of them? She shuts her eyes, trying not to sniffle, lest she stains her cheeks further. If only she was less clumsy… Or if she could control her voice as beautifully… Will vibratos ever come to her so naturally?
She’s going to disappoint Jean, and oh, Barbara, can’t you do one thing right?
Barbara startles as someone slides into the seat next to hers, her belongings rattling loudly. The new occupant has a mop of frizzy pitch-coloured hair pulled into four …spikes, tied by bone-lined bands, the tips of her fringe dyed red like parts of her outfit. At first, she wears a frown, though Barbara’s not quite sure if the girl’s concerned about her, or if she’s upset that a tourist is seemingly unappreciative of the lovely art form practised at the Heyu Tea House.
But when the stranger smiles, tentatively, Barbara’s heart stops racing and her fists unclench, willing herself to be at ease.
“Hey, you okay? I know Yunjin’s a great performer, but she’s performing a comedy today!”
Barbara sniffles again, knowing she must be a pitiful sight. “I’m sorry. But it’s just… she’s so good, and I’m…” Barbara looks down at her papers, with a dozen scratched out notes and little to show after days of work. “I’m just trying to work on a song and….”
Barbara forces herself to not burst into tears again.
Sensing her distress, the stranger pats Barbara’s shoulders gingerly, her voice taking on a cajoling tone as she speaks.
“Come on, Yunjin’s gonna be upset when she hears that her first comedy in a while’s so poorly received by… say, what’s your name? I’m Xinyan, an' rock 'n' roll's the game.” This Xinyan person glances down at Barbara’s sheets and whistles, admiration seeping into her voice. “Are you trying to write a song? That’s real cool of ya!”
Barbara nods. “I’m Barbara, from Mondstadt. And… thanks for saying that this is cool, but it’s not very well done. I barely have anything to work with still,” she demurs, a deep frown threatening to settle into her face.
Xinyan makes a noise in clear disagreement. “Pfft, don’t put yourself down, alright? Tell you what, why don’t you take a break – I’m gonna go find a place to set up my stage later, and I’d love to impress a new person in town.”
Barbara blinks. “You perform too?”
“Sure I do.” Xinyan grins. Despite all the bone-inspired jewellery, Barbara decides she looks kind. “Aww, you’ve stopped crying, that’s good. Say, d’you wanna watch me perform? That’s bound to cheer you up! Nothing like a little ol’ music to burn the sadness away right!”
Barbara lets out an audible groan, glaring at Xinyan’s Pyro vision. Xinyan only chuckles, if a little sheepishly. “S’ry, I do that sometimes. But music?”
At Barbara’s wary nod, Xinyan’s grin stretches more widely. “Cool, cool, cool. More fans of rock ‘n’ roll is always a good thing!”
Then, Xinyan glances up at the sky, frowning a little as she awkwardly mumbles her next sentence. “Actually, I’m not due to perform for a little bit. The flyers I scattered about earlier said I’d be there in I dunno, three hours? Some good ol’ music as the sun sets makes the perfect end to a good day’s work, eh?”
To that, Barbara nods enthusiastically as she takes in Xinyan’s words. Is this someone who shares her view on music? Has she finally met someone, in Liyue of all places, that wants their music to be made for people?
“So… what should we do while we wait?”
For a moment, Xinyan looks stumped. “Huh. You’re not from here, yeah?” Xinyan frowns, deep in thought. “Usually, tourists in Liyue might wanna see Yunjin perform, but since it’s driven you to tears… so nah, bad idea. We’re not staying here any longer. Besides, once you’ve seen one of them, you’ve seen all of them. Don’t tell her I said that, gosh. What I mean is that after you’ve seen one of them, she’s equally good at all the others. Yeah, yeah, that’s better.” Xinyan scratches her head, her voice suddenly pleading as she realises the doom that can be wrought upon her for her slip of the tongue. “Oh my, please do not tell Yunjin I said that.”
When Barbara assures her that she won’t – she’s not even on speaking terms with this Yunjin person, after all – Xinyan relaxes in clear relief. She soldiers on, quickly mumble-rattling off a list of possible places, more to herself than as real suggestions for Barbara, before quickly dismissing them.
Then, as if on cue, Barbara’s growling stomach saves Xinyan from digging her brain for ideas. She would have been awash with embarrassment except for the light that now sparkles in Xinyan’s eyes as an idea strikes her.
“You’ve not eaten, right? C’mon, you’re in Liyue; we have the best food. And I, the best tour guide you’ll get here, guarantee this.”
Her stomach rumbles again. Xinyan’s grin widens even further as she tugs on Barbara’s arm, if that’s somehow possible. “You good with chillis?”
Barbara confirms it. “I drink chilli juice before performances.”
Her comment is met with an owlish blink. “Sorry, what?”
“Chillbrew, made with chilli juice and sweet flowers. You don’t do that?” Barbara’s head tilts to the side. “It’s good for the throat.”
“Huh. Makes… sense?” With the way she is still staring quizzically at Barbara, it’s clear she’s doubtful. But she quickly shrugs, taking the comment in stride. “Guess I’ll have to try that sometime.” Pulling on her hand more impatiently now, she says again, “Let’s go!”
*
True to her word, Xinyan is a great tour guide.
Their first stop is Wanmin Restaurant, where Xinyan makes a sad noise when she finds that Xiangling isn’t around that day. Apparently, she has just hitched a short ride with the Crux to a nearby island to get some ingredients and would be back ‘soon enough.’ Though, Chef Mao doesn’t sound that sure of that himself when he tries to allay Xinyan’s newfound concern that Barbara wouldn’t get to try Xiangling’s food before she leaves.
Barbara is definitely a fan of the rich dishes that Chef Mao cooks up, the entire kitchen smelling like a million different tasty things, though the chilli-filled smoke makes her cough, to Xinyan’s roaring laughter even as she coughs too, pulling Barbara back out to wait at the tables.
Normally, she would’ve pegged most people with bones-as-accessories as a rather subdued type of person. But Xinyan does not share any of the sullenness people like Rosaria bear most of the time. Instead, as they exit Wanmin Restaurant, Xinyan chatters freely and easily about all the sights that they see, injecting little anecdotes about this new city that Barbara is only too eager to hear.
Liyue Harbor is vast and magnificent, but when Barbara ventured out alone, it felt like the city was ready to swallow her alive, her tiny frame drowning in a sea of people. She hadn’t managed to get too far beyond her accommodations before retreating, afraid of wandering down the wrong paths and failing to make her way back.
But with Xinyan’s hand confidently tugging her through the crowds, her voice loud and cheery as she points out the new sights, Barbara thinks she just might know how Xinyan sees Liyue Harbor, even if it’s just a glimpse of this bustling locale.
Their little tour ends at the docks, where Xinyan explains that she’ll have been remiss as a guide if they didn’t at least make a trip down here: how can Barbara understand Liyue, the nation of contracts, Mora, and trade, if she doesn’t see the ships for herself?
Barbara can only gaze in awe at the endless rows of ships, each taller and longer than the one before it. Dragon motifs adorn the harbour’s many archways, stretching into the sky like they are just short of taking flight. Dockworkers bustle about with towering stacks of boxes as they yell for Barbara and Xinyan to get out of the way.
To all these annoyed warnings, Xinyan only grins and hollers at them, “Come watch my concert! Sundown! The Feiyun Crossings!”
*
After wandering around for a bit, Xinyan finds a spot at the ends of the Feiyun Slope, near where the ever-crowded roads begin to segue into those of the harbour’s wharves. Apparently, Xinyan explains, it’s rarer for the guards to patrol in this spot because it crosses between patrol zones. Her Millelith friends told her that no one wants to fight another department over paperwork jurisdiction, so they mostly steer clear of such ambiguities.
The stage’s set-up is simple. On a large ledge, Xinyan sets down some pieces of wood that she plans to ignite later during her performance. After all, as Xinyan explains with a small grin, it’s all for the better if they need to make a quick getaway later.
Barbara’s never seen such an empty stage before: hers are usually far more decked-out with bright streamers and the like, with a few pieces of accompanying instruments placed around a proper stage. Even though she didn’t notice it at first, Xinyan carries a pyro Vision that glows a mesmerisingly bright orange-red.
A small crowd has already gathered by the base of the ledge, some of them eyeing Xinyan and Barbara curiously, some others just whistling what Barbara imagines is something Xinyan has performed before. Judging by the smirk-smile Xinyan flashes their way, her guess is probably right. In their blues and reds, the two of them probably make for a curious sight.
“Are you ready for the best performance of your life, Barbara?”
Barbara nods, eager to see what this girl can do. “You bet!” Her hands curl upwards to cheer Xinyan on. “I’m sure you’ll be great!”
Xinyan grins, scratching the back of her head somewhat awkwardly. “Heh, you’ve not seen me on stage yet. I betcha won’t be disappointed!”
But there’s no doubt about it: Xinyan is effortlessly cool.
As soon as Xinyan determines that there are enough people, she starts talking to her audience, riling them up for the performance. Some of it is nothing out of the ordinary, akin to what Barbara herself says, though the way she delivers lines like “hope you enjoy the show!” is delivered in a rather different tone from Xinyan’s.
She cheers with the crowds rocking out to the energy that her new friend hypes up with ease. Xinyan sings-screams as she glides her fingers along her guitar. Pyro flames roar into the sky with controlled precision, her flames drumming a synchronised rhythm that fascinates Barbara. How does Xinyan do this? She’s so effortlessly radiant on the stage that a tinge of envy crosses her own heart.
Without warning, Xinyan turns to her. “Hey, Barbara, wanna join me?” Her voice lowers. “Sometimes I get some of my fans on stage, but you seem to know a thing or two about music, eh? C’mon!”
Barbara can only stare at Xinyan, who is still strumming the guitar as she waits. Barbara hesitates. What can she even do?
More gently, Xinyan continues, “you don’t have to do anything if you’re eh, not comfortable, but if you wanna, maybe we can harmonise or something! You look like the sort.”
Oh, Barbara is the sort. Weekly choir sessions at the church have definitely trained her ability to match her voice to someone else’s tune.
Just as she’s about to step onto the stage, a disturbance appears at the back of the crowd. Neither of them notices that a few guards are pushing through the crowd until they draw near, and Xinyan’s eyes widen.
“Barbara, shit, we have to go—”
“MISS XINYAN!”
“How many times do we have to tell you—”
“YOU NEED A LICENSE!”
“Come on—”
“Wait, you don’t have a license?”
“Er, for later—”
The getaway does not happen. With a chorus of annoyed jeers, a few other guards work on dispersing the crowd. Two of them remain to address Xinyan, and by extension Barbara. They don’t pull her off the stage, but their stern glares make her friend yield with a huge sigh.
“It’s just this once, can’t you let this go, Yong’an-ge, A’kun-ge?”
The stockier guard, Yong’an-ge shakes his head, looking a little put out himself. “The Tianquan’s rules have been very clear on this. Don’t make my job harder, Miss Xinyan.”
A’kun-ge looks even more upset, though evidently more at the sight of the smouldering flames. “Someone made a noise complaint, so we had to come by. Honestly, if it was in my power to ignore this….”
Xinyan nods, sighing. “Yeah, thanks for everything, A’kun-ge. So… how are y’all filing the paperwork for this? Do I need to pay a fine?”
The men, who Barbara thinks are called Yong'an-ge and A'kun-ge, glance at each other. Then they both shake their hands simultaneously.
“Eh A’Kun, how’s your new boss at Feiyun?”
“Terrible, urgh.”
“Fine, I’ll take this report.” Yong’an-ge turns to Xinyan and Barbara again. “I’ll need your identification tags, please.”
Dutifully, Xinyan pulls out a small wooden tag with her name on it. The guards barely glance at it before they wave it off.
Beside her, Barbara freezes. An… identification tag? Her mind races back to her first day in Liyue Harbor.
Oh. She’s left it in her room… and….
She nearly cries, suddenly remembering that the innkeeper had reminded her to get the tag registered at the Ministry of Civil Affairs but… Celestia above, she forgot.
*
The holding cell that Barbara is held in is only mildly unpleasant, to her great relief. For the most part, it's only slightly damp at the entrance, and the fresh straw that a guard brings in ten minutes into her hopefully temporary stay is dry, smelling of sunshine and something faintly woodsy.
Her guard – whom she learns is called Gua’zi – is a chatty little chap. Barbara is kind of short, especially compared to Jean, but when they both stand by the cell door as he tries to entertain her, he’s barely an inch taller than her, and that is even accounting for the small bun perched on top of his head.
Gua’zi is happy to entertain Barbara’s questions about Liyue, seeing as they don’t usually jail people claiming to be foreign dignitaries. Crime in the wealthy Liyue Harbor is rarer than in most cosmopolitan cities, with the Qixing steering Liyue’s economy to new heights. Most of the convicts the prisons hold include a variety of contract-breakers, lawless individuals who erred on the honourless side of business.
An identification tag without a properly registered address, Gua’zi assuringly explains, is not a crime Liyue would lock her up for longer than a week. Even then, he muses, it’s in the nicer part of the prison, a slap on the wrist for non-compliance with governance requirements.
Xinyan’s told her that Liyue Harbor is new to her, and the way her new, erstwhile friend talks about Liyue Harbor is with a tone of awe, even if she scoffs at a variety of views the Liyueren hold. In contrast, Gua’zi has lived in Liyue Harbor all his life, and save for a few training excursions outside of the city, has not seen much of Teyvat beyond the city’s perimeters. It’s obvious he has spent much more time in the city, with the way he regales Barbara with well-embellished anecdotes about different locales across Feiyun Slope. He even talks about the multitude of superstitions businesspeople share in the city. Many merchants have carved statues of Rex Lapis in their homes, praying for good tidings.
She doesn’t quite know how much time elapses, except that she’s still in the cell by the time the moon appears in the sky. Soon enough, even Gua’zi is gone, with the shift change occurring shortly after sundown.
With only the silvery light of the moon filtering into the cell and no one to talk to, her predicament becomes more apparent. At least she is sure that she’ll get out of here sooner or later, even if Jean’s not the one to come rescue her. Her thoughts quickly settle on three possibilities:
It has been hours since the Millelith’s messenger has left for wherever-Jean-could-be, but Barbara’s still here. In her first and most optimistic projection, the messenger has simply gotten lost. Liyue Harbor is sprawlingly large after all, and Jean can be anywhere. It’s not like Barbara has Jean’s schedule memorised, and cannot even help the poor messenger find Jean.
In her next, and rather dismal guess: Jean has received the message but has elected to ignore it. In fairness, if Barbara is occupied by meetings with important heads of state, she too, would leave her sibling to suffer the consequences of their actions for a little while. Besides, there’s no guaranteeing that Jean can burst her from jail.
But if Jean does come… that means that Jean knows how badly Barbara has failed her! Oh, what is she to do…
She groans, wishing her Vision allowed her to transform into a tiny bubble so she could float away, preferably to never exist again.
But, her prayers are not answered. As soon as that notion even crosses her mind, she hears a distinct, smooth voice from the jailhouse entrance. Barbara promptly sinks to her knees, hoping against hope that it isn’t Jean.
“Barbara!”
Jean’s face appears at the cell door as one of the new guards hurriedly fumbles for his keys, his face a greenish-white as he lets Barbara out.
“Barbs, oh, are you okay?” Jean lets out a breath, heavy with weariness. “Come on, let’s get out of here, yes?” A gloved hand is extended to her, helping her up from the ground. “I can’t believe they locked you up in here….”
Barbara shakes her head. “No, no, they were just doing their jobs, Jean.”
Her reply is met with pursed lips. “Hmm.” Jean surveys the jail cell. “At least it’s clean. Tell me, have you suffered? Should I seek redress on your behalf, would it help?”
Barbara squeezes Jean’s hand, surprised at how solid and warm Jean’s hand feels in hers. Last she held Jean’s hand, her own hand was far smaller, dwarfed by her sister’s larger, well-calloused one. While she can’t really feel the rough skin Jean’s sword fighting has left on her palms, her hand is now almost as big as Jean’s is. (And, hopefully, by some miracle or other, her hands will be as big as Jean’s are one day.)
“I’m alright,” Barbara soothingly insists. “Unharmed, maybe a little dirty, but nothing a nice bath won’t fix, really. If you’re going to blame anyone, blame me?”
Jean lets out a sigh again, pausing at the threshold leading outside back to the rest of the city. “I’m disinclined to leave this matter alone, but if you’re adamant about this….”
“I am.”
Another sigh. “Fine, we can let the matter drop.”
Jean’s brows knit together like she’s struggling to say something. Then her shoulders droop, making her look smaller than how the rest of the world sees the Lionfang Knight. “I just don’t like seeing you hurt. I don’t like not being able to protect you.”
Barbara’s brows mirror Jean’s now. “And I don’t like troubling you.”
“You’re never a trouble to me.”
Maybe it’s meant to be heartfelt, but Barbara snorts, asking just a little wryly, “Is that what you tell Klee when she blows the lake up?”
The very thought makes a vein on Jean’s forehead pop as she mutters, “Gods above… will Mondstadt still be in one piece when we get back….”
“Hey, you did leave her to Kaeya’s care.” Honestly, what was Jean thinking?
“The Cavalry Captain can behave… sometimes.” The pained look does not leave Jean’s face. “Albedo. He’ll keep her in line. Or Amber. I trust Lisa… Gods what was I thinking…”
Barbara lets out a tinkling laugh. To pull Jean out of her doomsday speculation, she prods, “So tell me, how did you bust me out of jail?”
At this, Jean wears a perplexed look on her face.
"It was actually... pretty simple, if not a little series of coincidences. Your… friend… she was the one who, or so I hear, made a huge fuss at the Yujing Terrace. She’s a bit of a celebrity: I hear Lady Keqing is a fan. And voila, the Tianquan produced a letter of pardon from her desk. She seemed... rather tickled, something about how imprisonment threats are something she encounters often enough?” Jean’s brows stitch further together as she mulls the point. “I don’t understand this country….”
Frankly, neither does Barbara, but that’s what they’re here for. Oh dear gods, she still hasn’t come up with a song! But Xinyan, Xinyan will help her, she’s sure—
“Jean, Jean, Jean, I have to go—”
“Wait, where to? Can’t it wait till tomorrow?”
Barbara shakes her head, ignoring Jean’s protests. “I have just the thing, but I’ll have to discuss it. A song, maybe Yunjin can help too? Should I invite them to Mondstadt…? ” Barbara pauses, just long enough to give Jean’s hand a squeeze before she pulls herself free. “I’ll see you later!”
“Wait, wait, wait, Barbara—”
“Ooh, it can’t wait—”
“No, please. A second.”
Barbara stops in her tracks, already a little distance away from Jean. Jean scratches the back of her head, hesitantly, before she starts talking.
“Before you go, I just want to say that it’s okay even if you don’t have a song by the end of the festival. Really. There’s always next year. Oh, don’t give me that look. I know you’ve been working hard on it, and I appreciate that you’ve done so, but hear me out, alright?”
Obligingly, Barbara relaxes, turning back to properly face her sister. Slowly, Jean walks to Barbara again and places her hands on Barbara’s shoulder, patting it lightly, if not a little awkwardly.
“I… good job, for everything you’ve done here.”
“Huh?” Barbara certainly hasn’t accomplished what Jean’s asked of her.
The doubt must show on her face because Jean hastens to elaborate, “Really, I mean it. I asked you to learn more about Liyue, to be my eyes where I could not.” She then adds, with wry amusement, “And it seems like you did, even if the means are a little unconventional.”
Barbara begins to protest this time, but Jean pats her shoulder again, stopping her from speaking. “You’ve done… I think we can say that you’ve done wonderfully.”
“I… thanks?”
For a moment, neither of them say anything. Judging by the redness on Jean’s ears, she too is a little embarrassed by the sentiment. Jean’s comment finally begins to sink into Barbara’s head, and a warm relief races through her veins, drawing a small smile from her face.
“Oh, before I forget... will you join me for the festivities? I am told that there’ll be games to play, and the view will be lovely.” She clears her throat gruffly, and Barbara’s heart warms a little to see Jean nervous in front of her. She doesn’t remember ever seeing Jean without her emotional regalia. “I’ve cleared my schedule for a week, more or less.” Jean chews on her bottom lip as she admits, “I was hoping you were free too, so that we can spend some time together.”
Barbara’s eyes shine. Jean cleared her schedule for her? Oh, but she’ll be so busy afterwards… No, Barbara, stop. Jean has made the decision already. She will respect that.
Without warning, she leaps towards Jean, wrapping her in a hug. Expectedly, Jean is a little stiff before she relaxes into Barbara’s hold, her arms enveloping Barbara’s smaller frame.
Barbara smiles against Jean’s shoulder contentedly as she says, “It’ll be a delight to show you around. Remind me again, how fond of spice are you?”