Chapter Text
We visit Keeler and his family for the first time two days after Stavros gets his new eye.
Took fucking long enough. For the VA to get their shit together and take care of all the former Navigators so they could even start on the Fighters, and for my old Nav to quit being a dick and invite us over.
It's not that Keeler is a bigot. He doesn't give a crap that I'm Colonial. Or pansexual, for that matter, at least since I got over having a thing for him. He just really doesn't like Stavros and I've never been able to get either of them to explain why.
We're both out of place as soon as we set foot on Earth. Two big dark guys in a sea of pretty little blonds. Stavros is almost as pale as them, but he's even taller than me and his thick black hair is down past his shoulders now. And of course there's the eye patch. He still wears it because his new eye looks kind of freaky and can see through it anyway.
It's not fun wading through the stares, the scared looks, curious looks, disgusted looks, occasional catcalls.
It's not fun finally getting a taxi after half a dozen pass us by. Having the driver tell us right off that he isn't prejudiced against Colonials. He even dated a woman from Mars 2 once. He had her take the bastard back where she came from when she got knocked up, though. Wouldn't call one of THOSE people his son.
But thanks for your service, boys.
I've gotten somewhat used to this shit, but Stavros is giving him the full-on death glare. Since there's a small but non-trivial chance he could accidentally do actual damage with that now, I try to distract them both by talking about local tourist traps.
Fortunately, it's a short ride.
After ten minutes or so, we get out into the snow in front of a little building that's at least ten meters away from the other little buildings around it. With trees and grass and stuff in between. None of them more than a few stories and only one family lives in each. Rich Earth fucks call them "houses."
I'm halfway to the front door before I realize Stavros isn't with me. He's scooped up a handful of snow and is staring at it, transfixed.
I leave my suitcase where it is and go back to put an arm around him.
"Baby?"
"I can see the crystals," he says. "Old Earth books talk about how snowflakes are these amazing shapes and every one is different. It's... They're not like this on Europa. I...thought it was a myth."
"So did I until the first time I came here," I tell him, and pull him in for a kiss to distract him again before he can transfer his anger at the idiot cabbie into being upset about how things suck where he comes from. He's so calm and controlled most of the time, but when he does get emotional, there's likely to be an explosion.
That's when I hear multiple sets of rapid, crunching steps through the snow and look up just in time to see a six-year-old version of Keeler, except with two braids instead of one, charge up and throw her arms around my waist.
"UNCLE ENNNNNNCKE!" she shouts at the top of her lungs.
"Neviaaaa!" I reply as I pick her up, spin her around, hug her, and rest her on my hip.
A little boy of about four is hot on her heels. When he's about two meters away, he stops so fast he falls down in the snow, looks up at me with blue eyes round and bright as the sun, and yells, "Are you BLACK?! I NEVER SAW A BLACK PEOPLE BEFORE!"
Well at least now someone is saying what everyone in the spaceport was thinking. Would it have killed you to prepare them, Keeler?
Before I have time to get too annoyed, the boy jumps to his feet and hollers, "That's SO COOL!"
Then he grabs my hand with both of his and starts tugging me toward the house.
A toddler catches up with the others, grabs my leg, bites me in the knee, and says, "Eeee!"
I glance back at Stavros. He looks like he doesn't know whether to laugh or bolt.
The kids notice him at the same time.
"HI! Who are YOU?!"
"Are you Uncle Encke's boyfriend?"
"What's that on your face?"
"Eeee?"
"Is your hair REALLY that color?"
"Are you a PIRATE?!"
He bursts out laughing. That still happens so rarely and makes me smile every time.
Nevia squirms out of my arms. I set her down and she runs up to Stavros.
"Well? ARE you a pirate?!"
He squats to her level and says, quietly, "Yes, I am. But shh! Don't tell anyone."
Nevia goggles at him for a second, then squats too and puts a hand over her eye like she's trying it out.
Then she whispers solemnly, "Cooool."
They both stand up just as Keeler appears in the doorway, smiling as usual but looking flustered.
"Girls! Phillip! Manners! Oh, dear. I'm sorry, Jaime. Stavros. Please, come in, come in!"