There were some things Rebecca wanted to cross off her nerd bucket list. She already attending a show at the Globe Theatre. She voiced a character in a video game she would play. She still had to see Hamilton, and she had no clue how she might find herself cast in a bit role on Chess and Crowns, but there was one more thing she could finally knock off the list: attending one of the ComVentions.

There were plenty of regional offshoots, but the “main” ComVentions were widely considered to be the original in California and the New York City event. Tickets were difficult to get, selling out almost immediately after they were released to the public, and Rebecca managed to nab two. She was elated to attend, and was hoping to ride that joyous feeling through the awkwardness of attending with her plus one.

It had been over a week since Nessa walked out of Rebecca’s apartment, calling the redhead out for her adulterous behavior, and in no uncertain terms ending their relationship. To say they were no longer talking was an understatement; knowing the gamer girl, she had already deleted Rebecca’s number, cleared their message history, and untagged herself from all photos. As curious as Rebecca was, she resisted the urge to see if Pixel Rainbows had unsubscribed from her channel yet.

Of course, Nessa was not directly the problem now. ComVention NY was, at its core, a comic event, and Nessa was never very into comic books and the pervasive control they had taken over media in general. When Rebecca brought a second ticket to the Bookerman apartment to offer, it became clear her (at the time) girlfriend would not be as excited for the convention as someone else might.

Enter Booker B. Bookman, her someone else. Becca and Booker always got along, which Nessa occasionally groaned about, and he was nerdy enough to share several of the Scot’s interests, from literature to, of course, comic books. It was over a month earlier when they decided they would go to ComVention together, and they even went so far as to take time in planning a cosplay as a pair, (which Nessa very clearly clarified could not be a “couple cosplay.”)

Rebecca was standing at the entrance to the convention in her half of the cosplay agreement, The Atlantis Lass the lesser known cousin of Booker’s character. The “costume” portion was easy enough, amounting to an orange and white one-piece swimsuit with matching gloves, along with a white wig and “winged feet,” (as well as some blue flip-flops because Rebecca was not about to walk around a convention center totally barefoot.) The challenge came in painting all of her exposed skin blue, along with accompanying runic patterns in bright white along her legs, arms, and face. She definitely got the harder task of the two cosplayers, and it was already bad enough that the nature of the costume came with some recent mission memories.

The plans for the convention were made when Rebecca and Nessa were still doing well, and while that was no longer the case, the recently single woman had no guide for how to handle sibling etiquette. Gina was still her friend after the Agnes break-up(s,) right? But she knew Gina before she even knew Agnes, and she met Booker specifically through Nessa. The rules were murky.

What was not murky were the rules for Badge transference. Booker’s badge was already assigned to his name, and it was too late to give it to someone else. Even if she could, would it not be rude to take the opportunity of a lifetime from the man?

So… Rebecca did nothing. They still had plans to meet at the entrance of the convention center when they last spoke, so she would hang out there for a bit, taking pictures on request, waiting to see if Booker showed up. If he chose to stay home, or maybe go through a different entrance, they could just go about their lives separately, but Rebecca was not the type to stand someone up.

Cheat on them, apparently, but not stand them up.

If there was one thing that Booker B. Bookman was known for, it was his protection of his younger sister. The man had dedicated a vast majority of his life to doing that, to ensuring that she was safe, at least until Nessa could stand on her own two legs. This, of course, meant taking her side in disagreements with her lovers and Booker was always happy to do it. She was his sister, after all, and he considered it a privilege to defend her honor in such a way. He loved her, after all.

However, this was obviously put to the test when it came to ComVention and the person that he would be attending with. Truth was that of all of Nessa’s girlfriends, Becca had been one of his favorites. She was a sweet girl, she had a rockin’ accent, and she was something whom he could be palsy with. When the invitation first was offered to him, Booker was absolutely ecstatic. Nessa wasn’t one for the costumes but Booker absolutely loved them and the fact that he had been invited by a willing participant was just utterly awesome. How could he turn it down?

Trouble would rear its ugly head when he received word that Nessa and Becca were broken up. Apparently she went back to her ex-girlfriend while dating his sister. Booker was all for the hatefire he felt churning in his belly but found that it was hard to execute around the young woman. She was too sweet, too kind, and judging from a quick web search for the girl she jilted his sister for, well, he got it. Now, that’s not to say that Nessa deserved this; no one deserves that. But, there was something about the look of Agnes’ picture and his interactions with Rebecca that just made it feel right to him. Those two belonged together – even he could see that; but that was not a point he would bring up to Nessa. That would be rude.

When ComVention got closer and closer, Booker found himself unsure of what was going to happen. He had Becca had made so many plans for an awesome cosplay together that he felt like a shame to just toss them out the window on a matter of principle. He was sure that Nessa would not have appreciated it but in the entirety of his life, Booker was rarely a selfish person. He wanted to be selfish, if only this one time.

The day drew closer and he didn’t contact Rebecca to cancel and Rebecca never called him to convince him to stay home. Therefore, why should he not follow through with it? Besides, his costume was absolutely perfect…

---

Outside the convention hall, Booker strolled with the crowd of costumed individuals. Of everyone he received the most catcalls and whistles. He slightly blushed at the attention but deep down he knew it wasn’t going to last long. At the end of the day, Booker liked attention when it was for something right that he did. Today? He totally nailed his costume and he was willing to bask in the attention that he received.

Strolling down the concrete sidewalk in winged flip-flops, Booker B. Bookman showed up at the convention in the extremely risqué outfit of the The Atlantean. His muscular chest, arms, and legs were all on display. The only modest he wore was a small, green and fish-scaled speedo with a gold belt wrapped around his waist. The man kept his eyes forward, grinning from ear to ear as people gave him a thumbs up or congratulated him on his costume choice. In one hand he carried a large gold trident that he had crafted on his spare time and the way it shimmered and moved was enough to scare anyone into thinking it was real. The man was a sight to behold.

Stopping outside the convention doors, Booker chewed on his lip as he peered left and right for his partner. Rebecca and he had made plans to meet up at the front doors and he already knew her costume of Atlantis Lass, the fiery cousin to his own character (he loved paired costumes). For a few moments Booker wandered, wondering if maybe the redhead had changed her mind about going, but stopped when he saw that flare of white hair as she posed for a picture with an energetic looking fan.

Booker stepped up, grinning wide as she loomed behind her. His arms crossed over his impressive chest, the man arched a regal eyebrow, trying to not crack a smile at the look the person with the camera was giving them. He poked his friend on the shoulder and gave her a stern look.

”Atlantis Lass. That hardly seems like the royal behavior of our people.”

It was important, as a ViewTuber that occasionally dealt in nerd news, for Rebecca to make her presence known to her fanbase. Leading up to the convention, she reminded her subscribers in videos that she would be attending, inviting them to say hello if they saw her. She already had plans for a ComVention montage video, and she was going to be Chirping live from the event. The interaction with her fanbase and the wealth of relevant nerd content was invaluable for her channel.

It was equally important to remind her audience to look out for blue skin and white hair rather than her usual telltale red hair and freckles. Luckily, some of her fans were attentive, and a college-age girl with curly brown hair gave her costume a once over. “Um, excuse me. Are you Pixelbecky?”

Snapped from her crowd scanning, Rebecca smiled and nodded enthusiastically, (though not so enthusiastically that she might unstraighten her wig.) ”One in th’ same!”

Once she was certain she found one of her favorite ViewTubers, the girl’s energy and excitement came out. “Ohmigod, I can’t believe I lucked out when this place is so huge! I love your videos! Could I get a hug and a picture?”

Rebecca chuckled, still not entirely used to meeting fans in real life. ”Weel, a hug micht be tricky since Ah micht blue ye, bit Ah can definitely dae a photo!”

It was not the exact answer the girl was hoping for, but Rebecca was hesitant to hug strangers, and genuinely paranoid about smudging the hard work she put so much time into. The girl took out her phone and Rebecca did her part by striking a playful pose with a hand at her hip.

It was the fangirl who noticed something was amiss first. Rebecca only caught on that something might be wrong when the girl was seemingly gawking, mouth ajar in her direction. Was there something on her face after all that eff—

[color=cornsilk”Atlantis Lass. That hardly seems like the royal behavior of our people.”[/color]

A man’s voice so close behind her accompanied by a finger at her shoulder caught her off guard, leading to a flinch and a, ”Yeep!” When she turned, (almost snapping her ankle thanks to her flipflops,) she was met by none other than Booker himself in most of his glory. Nessa’s brother was, admittedly, a rather handsome man. She did not see him as anything more than that brotherly figure, but it was hard not to see the appeal of that body when he left so little to the imagination.

Regaining her composure, she replied, ”Ye know, it’s hard tae see hoo Th' Atlantean can be sic' a buzzkill dressed loch 'at.” Looking back to the brunette, she asked, ”Ah’m sorry, did ye get th’ shot?”

The girl nodded, smiling timidly in the presence of Booker’s abs. “Yep, three: one of you, one of you and him, and one of you jumping when you noticed him.”

Rebecca sighed, looking over at an all-too-proud-of-himself Booker. ”Great. Weel, tag me anyway if ye post them.”

The girl nodded and thanked both the Atlantean heroes before heading into the convention center, leaving Becca alone with her ex’s brother. ”Sae ye came. Ah’m glad,” she admitted, nervously, sure he was aware of why she might have doubts.

The squeal was probably the most adorable he had heard in the longest time. An impish smirk on his lips, he couldn’t help breaking a smile as he watched the young Scot suddenly shout in surprise and turn to face him. The best part was that it seemed as if the whole incident had been caught on camera, as evident by the young fangirl who was standing there, posed and taking a few snapshots with her camera. The giant, muscular man in the teeny, tiny green underwear simply smiled his broadest of smiles and waved innocently to the younger woman before turning his attention back to Rebecca.

Her cosplay was absolutely amazing. It was clear that she had practice doing this, judging by the choice of paint she used on her skin and the careful runes she had created on her body. For a second he wondered what the look on Nessa’s face was at having to help Rebecca with this, but he was quickly reminded that that wasn’t the case anymore. Alone or with Agnes was probably how Rebecca had done this. Yeah…totally not awkward.

Shaken from his thoughts, he smiled down at the much shorter woman as she turned and started to admonish him for his behavior.

>> ”Ye know, it’s hard tae see hoo Th' Atlantean can be sic' a buzzkill dressed loch 'at…Ah’m sorry, did ye get th’ shot?”

Booker once more adorned his heroic persona of The Atlantean by looked proud, regal, and somewhat offended by the tone that the younger redhead took with him. He sneered in a royal way, pretending that the woman was somehow beneath him. That seemed to stir a passerby with a comic-book themed shirt to stop and snap a candid photo of the moment. After the picture was taken, and Rebecca to inquire if the young fangirl got her shot, Booker back to the passing photograph and gave him a thumbs up.

His thumbs up and smile faded when he turned back around, just in time to see Rebecca return her gaze to him. The smile was soft on her lips and a look of appreciation in her eyes. The man had to smile. It was a moment that reminded him that the two of them had been good friends when she and Nessa were together. It was a shame that wasn’t the case anymore. Still, he wasn’t about to go down that road. They were here as friends and to have fun.

>> ”Sae ye came. Ah’m glad,”

He just snorted. ”Pfft! Of course I was going to come,” he beamed goofily. ”Did you think I was going to let you find some other ruggedly handsome man who was willing to dress like the Atlantean and was also named Booker to come with you? Come on, now.” he grinned again. ”Seriously, though, you look amazing. Great job on your costume and your fans are seemingly loving it.” he nodded matter of factly to her.

He hoped it wouldn’t be weird, her hanging out with him at this thing. The last thing he wanted was for things to be weird between them but there was no way to test that out until they actually tried. So, with a determined nod, he hefted up his trident and pointed towards the entrance.

”Are you ready, cousin? To face the unknown? The collaborate with our fellow heroes? TO TOPPLE THE FORCES OF EV—“ he stopped…sniffing in the air and a look of childish glee filled his eyes. ”Oh! Churros.” He waved for Rebecca to follow as he hunted for the wily churro vendor in order to conquer his ware!

It was a relief to know Booker was going to take the opportunity to look past what Rebecca did, or at least ignore it for a few days of comic book goodness. The librarian was an amazing big brother to Vanessa, if the stories she told were true. He enjoyed being a thorn in his sister’s side, but in private, she was assured that was just a sibling thing, and Booker always had the girl’s back, even during some truly challenging points of her adolescence. Rebecca found it difficult to believe Nessa had not confided in her brother about the details of their breakup and what the redheaded succubus did to her. Logically, Booker knew Rebecca was a dirty, rotten cheater and was finding it in himself to be civil anyway.

For some people, civil was terse and chilly, but Booker was too friendly to be those things. It was hard to feel like anything was wrong when he was joking about how irreplaceable he was as The Atlantean. He even took the time to congratulate her on the costume she put so much time and effort to make a reality. Rebecca blushed, but it was undetectable behind the blue and white coating her face. ”Aww, thanks, Book. An’ ye look great. Nae one coods hae pulled aff th' green, scaly speedo look quite loch ye,” she praised genuinely. In fact, she tucked that thought away in case she ever needed to convince someone to dress as Sugar Glider for her.

Booker gestured toward the convention center with his impressive prop trident, starting up a rousing heroic speech. She was feeling rallied already by his over-the-top presentation when he cut himself off, only to excitedly point out that churros were nearby. Rebecca snorted at the silly juxtaposition but said, ”Lead th’ way, yer majesty,” and followed him into the venue.

As she kept pace behind a Booker on a mission, Rebecca took a few sniffs of the air for herself. It was still early on day one of the con, so the common presence of body odor had not yet tinted the area. Even still, she found herself doubtful that Booker had smelled anything. They were walking for almost thirty seconds before she was sure he was yanking her chain. ”Okay, Book, Ah’m pretty sure yer making up thes whole—”

Her words halted as they turned a corner and, sure enough, there was a stand selling tacos, burritos, and of course, churros. Rebecca eyed the muscular man as he, in turn, eyed his prize. ”…Sae, is heightened churro detection a power of Th’ Atlantean ur of Booker Bookman?” she asked incredulously; she already knew Booker was an adapted, (since being in his presence immediately banished her magnet sense,) but she still wondering how he divined their way straight to fried, sugared Mexican dough.

Booker was a focus-minded individual but the one thing that could derail his attention was the prospect of food. Booker had the body of an Adonis so the fact that he could still track down a fried, sugary treat like a hog hunting for truffles was a bit, well, unfair. The man looked as if he was an extreme vegetarian who ate only soy-based products without a drop of processed sugar passing his lips, and yet here he was, hunting down churros. The world was sometimes so unfair but to Booker, he didn’t care; he was happy just living his life and that was all he wanted.

Hunting through the venue, Booker turned and lifted his head, following the scent of what could only be attached to churros. Rebecca followed behind, her smile lost to him as he was busy seeking out their treat. However, as the seconds ticked by, her faith in his abilities to track down the sugary treat was clearing coming into question.

>> Okay, Book, Ah’m pretty sure yer making up thes whole—”

He didn’t have time to listen to her grumble about whether or not his power to find greasy snack foods was real. As he rounded a corner, he grinned from ear-to-ear, crossed his arms over his massive chest, and lifted an eyebrow to her. As she came to his side, she too stopped and noticed the Mexican food stand that was off to side, selling everything, including churros. The man couldn’t help but grin as she eyed him.

The look of “I-told-ya-so” didn’t escape the man’s face quickly. As he loomed over the woman, he chuckled.

”I find your lack of faith disturbing.” he said, yes, quoting one of his favorite movie villains ever.

>>”…Sae, is heightened churro detection a power of Th’ Atlantean ur of Booker Bookman?”

As the duo marched over to the vendor, Booker couldn’t help but chuckle at the question that had been asked of him. Many times in the past Nessa had inquired about his ability but eventually just accepted it as part of his person. After all, even if she was a vegetarian, Booker still could use his abilities to find her some of the best junk good that was animal free. Of course it didn’t help that some of the best food he found usually was mixed with cooking animal flesh, but such was the problem with requesting Booker’s assistance. He was a carnivore, through and through.

Except for right now. Right he was a churro-vore.

He shrugged his shoulders as he finally answered her. ”What can I say? It’s a gift that span’s universes.” At the vendor, he smiled sweetly as he ordered a churro, and proceeded to pull some cash from his badge holder. He turned to Rebecca. ”Care for one? My treat.” After she accepted or declined, Booker turned, exchanged money and waited for the vendor to produced both churros (regular and jam filled) and sweet dipping sauces. As they waited, Booker glanced over to Rebecca and smiled. ”So…um…how are you doing?” he asked, knowing full well she knew of what he spoke. ”Happy?”

Booker was such. A. Nerd. It honestly made him a joy to spend time with. It was oddly reminiscient of the time she used to spend with Akshay, as his many references and jokes would pull her deeper down the rabbit hole of nerdom. Before she came to America, she was almost pop-culture illiterate, and thanks to her former boss, she was now living the pop-culture life.

Of course, the man certainly proved her lack of faith was unfounded, so he earned a bow of her head. ”Ah’m sorry, Lord Booker,” she apologized as she followed the gleeful adult toward the vendor for his reward.

The vendor was wise to set up shop at the convention, where hungry fanboys and girls would be passing by all day, subject to the tempting scents of meats, salsa, and fried treats. By the end of the day, the owners would surely have made several days worth of sales, with more guaranteed in the coming days of the event. Rebecca had attended enough conventions to know how important a good breakfast was prior to attendance, saving her one meal that was sure to be price-gouged. The burritos would normally tempt her, but her will was strong and aided by an omelet still resting in her stomach.

The temptation of a free churro, however…

”Hoo can Ah say nae tae an offer loch ‘at?” It was kind of Booker, and Rebecca was not one to shy away from kindness. He pulled money from his badge holder (because his costume provided precious few places to keep it otherwise,) and soon Rebecca was enjoying her first hot bite of a jam-filled churro. ”Mm, fank ye,” she immediately said, covering her mouth with her hand to hide the fact that she clearly still had a mouth full of dough.

The pair took a seat at a nearby metal table in one of the rest areas so they could properly enjoy their treats. The first panel Rebecca wanted to attend was not starting for two hours. They would have time to traverse the vendor areas before she had to settle in for half an hour of line-sitting. Booker took the opportunity to asks her a vaguely worded question, knowing she knew he knew what he was really asking. ”Ah’m… good. Happy, aye. It’s… nae perfect.” Agnes was hers, but there was an asterisk; at the moment, she was still sharing the bug girl with her fiancée, making Rebecca not just a girlfriend, but a legitimate mistress. She did her best to ignore how uneasy that truth made her feel, because when Agnes was hers, yes, she was truly happy.

Happiness did not mean she did not have things that made her less content, and the loss of Vanessa’s friendship was high on that list. ”Hoo is… ur things… ye know, guid? Oan yer end?” How could she find a way to ask Booker how his sister was holding up after a redheaded harpy tore out her heart?

Booker couldn’t hold back his chuckled when he watched Rebecca bite into her jam filled churro. It was hot, sweet, and there was probably some crack mixed into the dough because they were damn near impossible to not have. The second that the sugar-crusted doughy item was plopped into her hand, she bit into it and mumbled a garbled “thank you” in appreciation of Booker’s good nature for purchasing it to her. In all fairness Booker hadn’t even thought twice about it, especially when it was thanks to Rebecca that he was here. The least he could do was offer a few snacks in return.

With their items in hand, both the denizens of Atlantis made their way to a nearby, unoccupied bench and took seats. Most of the panels that he wanted to see seemed to coincide with Rebecca’s interests so it seemed that they would be joined at the hip for most of the day. There were worse fates though it truly would have been better if she were still in Nessa’s good graces. That wasn’t the case, unfortunately, but they would make it work. So long as nothing awkward was said to bring the discussion to his sister, he knew that they would be fine.

Biting into his own churro, the man sighed with satisfaction at the taste of the sugar crusted dough rolling on his tongue. Sounds of “Mmm” and “Oh my god” slipped from his lips as he chewed and swallowed. It really had to be one of the best things of the day and it wasn’t even comic related! What was that about? Whatever! The day was still young.

But, for as much as the man didn’t want to bring the conversation back to his sister and the failed relationship, it was hard not to address the extra-large, fat, elephant in the room that promptly sat upon their heads. Maybe it was just better to get it over with as soon as possible so that they could clear the air and move one from it? So…he asked – in as subtle a way as he could.

>> ”Ah’m… good. Happy, aye. It’s… nae perfect.”

He gave her a supportive smile. He was glad that he didn’t have to spell out what he was referring to. Rebecca had always been a smart girl, one of the smartest that his sister had ever dated. It was sad that things didn’t work out but he still liked the redhead and he was glad to hear that she was happy. Given the circumstances, though, he would have been shocked if the relationship was absolutely perfect. He was rooting for it to be but it didn’t mean anything. So the man gave her a soft shrug as he took another bite of his churro.

”Relationships rarely are.” he said with a small smile. Booker had more than his experiences with failed relationships. As a matter of fact his most recent one had been rather brutal. Some would wonder if Booker was even over Chris yet. He sighed a bit longingly before he leaned over and nudged her with his elbow, his eyes disappearing behind a smile. ”But at least you’re happy.” He gave her a beaming smile.

>>”Hoo is… ur things… ye know, guid? Oan yer end?”

Another smirk and he nodded his head as he took a bite of his churro again. ”I’m fine. Good, even.” he said. He then leaned in and whispered, almost as if telling a secret. ”And so’s she…” He grinned knowingly, lips covered in sugar. He had always been a smart one.

Before delving into their conversation, both Booker and Rebecca had a moment to just enjoy their churros, and it sounded like Booker was having an experience with his. Admittedly, the churros were delicious, and Rebecca was savoring the hot, sweet goodness and the fruity jam mixed in each bite. There was just something special about the way Booker ate his dessert. She knew on sight: that was love.

Of course, the topic moved forward from churros to feelings, and it was almost hard to handle how supportive Booker was being. One would have thought he was Rebecca’s scantily clad brother rather than Vanessa’s one flesh and blood. He knew the whole story, she was certain; from the cheating and lying to the fiancée whose back Agnes was going behind. He was giving her reassurance that she was struggling with her new old relationship, and that was normal. Honestly, he made her realize what an asset an older brother must have been for someone growing up.

Rebecca bit nervously into her churro when Book assured her he was doing well before he leaned in closer. He never said her name, but when he said “she,” Rebecca heard Nessa’s name. Booker was letting her know her ex-girlfriend was doing fine, which felt impossible. It was not that Rebecca had a high opinion of herself; she just could not imagine someone doing to her what she did to Nessa and finding it in her to handle that. ”Guid. Guid.” She repeated it twice to reassure herself that things were going to be okay, and that it was time to drop the awkward topic.

…Or maybe it was just best to get it all out right away? Rebecca was clouded by the worries of what she did, and it was harder to deal with when Booker was being so damn understanding. ”Ah… Ah’m sorry, Book. Nessa’s great, an’ Ah was really s****y tae ‘er.” Reecca was not going to try defending herself or justifying her actions. She screwed up, and with Booker showing up with her for the con, he was somehow between them now. ”Ah cannae e’en imagine whit she main hae said when ye left today.”

As much as the two of them didn’t want their time together tainted, in reality it was hard to avoid the subject of his sister and the relationship that Rebecca and Nessa had. It was a rough thing to have bore witness to. Booker remembered when Nessa got home and the look of combined devastation and unbridled anger on her face. Booker knew without her having said anything what the problem was. She knew that her relationship had ended because it was a look that he had somewhat seen before. However, this time, it seemed to bear so much weight to it. Hearing the story that followed was both saddening and tragic. It really was a shame because of how much he liked Rebecca.

Still, if there was one thing about Booker B. Bookman, it was that he was a hopeless romantic. In the corner of his mind (he didn’t tell this to his sister) but he was actually moved by what Rebecca and her ex-girlfriend did. It was very similar to many of his favorite books and stories, about a romance that cannot be quelled by the passage of time or the leagues of distance thrown up between them. It was inspiring, to say the least, but it was sad that his own sister had been caught in the line of fire. For the next several days Booker nodded his head and agreed with everything that Nessa said on her rants against the redhead, but Booker was his own person and he had to his own opinion.

For awhile Booker didn’t bring up the convention or the fact that he had yet to break plans with Rebecca. He was certain that Nessa must have figured that he had done it the second he heard the two of them broke up. Truth was that Booker really wanted to go to this convention, but at the same time really did feel like Rebecca was a good person who was just caught up in a sh***y situation. At the end of the day, people make mistakes and Booker couldn’t begrudge anyone that.

He informed the redhead that his sister was fine, a question that wasn’t outwardly asked. He vaguely wondered if that would be enough to quell the woman’s curiosity but would soon be proven wrong. Of course it wasn’t enough. They were in a relationship that both Booker and Nessa thought would last; in her shoes, Booker would probably have wanted to know the same.

>> ”Ah… Ah’m sorry, Book. Nessa’s great, an’ Ah was really s****y tae ‘er. Ah cannae e’en imagine whit she main hae said when ye left today.”

He smiled a bit sadly. His mind drifted back to this morning when he last night he was getting his things together for dressing in his costume today. Nessa had found him in his room and the look of shock on her face was a bit heartbreaking. The two of them had progressed into a shouting match that wasn’t actually shouting, until Nessa was red in the face. By the end, Booker had gotten so tired of defending his point of view that ended the conversation the only way he knew how – with unflappable logic.

Turning to Rebecca, he sighed as he lowered his churro. It was clearly a tough decision for the man because he abso-F***ING-lutely loved this churro, and Rebecca better damn realize the gesture he as making. Setting down on a napkin on the bench, Booker turned to her and gave her an encouraging smile. He leaned down, nudged her chin up with his finger until he caught the look in her mismatched eyes.

”Listen, love, I’m going to tell you what I told her last night,” he said gently. ”In the end, no matter how you acted, not matter how she’s taking it, the world will go on. You two simply weren’t meant to be and, you know what, that…is…oh…kay.” A warming look. ”Was it sh***y? DEF-initely. Is Nessa hurt? Who wouldn’t be? Are you going to eventually pay me back for that churro because Bookman pride? Maybe…I haven’t decided yet.” He giggled, but his look turned more sincerely as he tilted his gaze to her. ”But in the end, the decision is made. I’m just glad that you didn’t string her along into marriage and beyond carrying an affair.” His brow arched. ”Then I probably would have had to have kicked your ***. Got me?”

Rebecca was not planning on taking them down the heavy, emotional, buzz-kill path, but Nessa had been weighing on her mind. The decision to leave was the right one, but it was hard carrying the guilt of what she did, and the knowledge Nessa might never forgive her.

Rebecca generally considered herself to be likeable. As a figure with opinions on the internet, there would always be people she did not know hating her for arbitrary reasons, and that was easy to process and accept. She knew and liked Vanessa, and it was weird to think she might be forever hated by someone whose opinion mattered. She knew she would live with the consequences of her actions, but that made them no less of a burden. If Booker also chose to give up on her, she would have lost two friends in one questionable life choice.

It was clear Booker understood the seriousness of her concerns, because he put his churro down to address her. Immediately, everything felt like an, “Oh ****, it’s going down,” moment. He was not serious as much as he was genuine. He had evidently given Nessa and Becca the same advice: they were not meant to be. The way everything went down was not fine of justifiable, but it was in the past. She hoped one day, the whole ordeal could be put behind them; maybe never forgiven, but something they could move on from.

And at least things could have been worse. As Booker pointed out, she did not drag out her affair, leading a double life with her wife and her girlfriend. Balancing both sounded exhausting, frankly, and she hoped and prayed Agnes had no intentions of taking on that challenge. The threat, though? That was cute. ”Book. Yer sweet and, aye, very brawny. Ah woods kick yer a**.” Yes, Booker was strong, and he was probably a good fighter. Rebecca was an X-Man. Maybe she was just a little cocky. ”An’ Ah wouldnae want tae show up mah king,” she added, with a teasing bow.

Feeling slightly more at ease with the situation, knowing it was just something she would have to let pass naturally, Rebecca dipped her churro in a chocolate dipping sauce and took a bite, almost moaning at the taste combination. Booker and churros made everything better. ”Thenks fur talkin’ me through mah crazy. We need tae finish up these treats an’ set off oan th’ royal hunt fer sweet merch!” Rebecca loved the vendor booths; comics, figurines, clothes, and other novelties, sprawling out through the largest space in the convention center. Truly, this was nerd heaven.

Real talk time was not a time that Booker often participated in. It didn't mean that he was unable to provide insight, but more that Booker didn't like have real talk too often. It could be depressing and hurtful, but beyond that, his unflappable logic wasn’t the emotional balm that people were actually looking for. But that was the essence of the truth, wasn’t it? Not a lot of people wanted to hear the truth in those times. They wanted to feel heard, they wanted sympathy, but the path to healing wasn’t always that easy.

Nessa had clearly felt a little hurt that Booker didn't continue to take her side. However, as he would point out, that wasn't exactly true. He agreed it was a sh***y thing, he agreed that she had every right to feel hurt, and he agreed to be there for her; but Booker was allowed his own friends and his opinions. He would respectfully not mention Rebecca in her presence, unless asked, and vice versa. It was the best compromise the siblings could commit to trying.

He could understand why Rebecca would ask. It was clear that this whole mess was never her intention, it was just something that snowballed out of control. So he would listen and he would be there for both his sister and his friend at the very best of his ability. So long as it didn't take him away from his lovely churros for too long.

He told Rebecca what he had told his sister, that they were simply not meant to be. He agreed on a number of points, including the fact that what Rebecca did was crappy, but added that at least she didn't drag it on. That seemed to quell the redhead’s fears a tiny bit, at least enough to address his last comment about kicking hours butt.

>>“Book. Yer sweet and, aye, very brawny. Ah woods kick yer a**...An’ Ah wouldnae want tae show up mah king,”

He smiled briefly but he had to arch his eyebrow, slipping back into character. ”Best watch your tongue, sea welp,” he teased. He then tried to look fierce. ”You would be a fool to challenge your king.” he could only maintain his look for a few more seconds before a grin cracked his features and he couldn't help but snort and look away.

They would be alright.

>>“ ”Thenks fur talkin’ me through mah crazy. We need tae finish up these treats an’ set off oan th’ royal hunt fer sweet merch!”

He shrugged as if it were nothing. ”Crazy talk is where I excel,” he winked.

He returned to the last remaining bites of his churro and continued his love affair with it. It was so insanely good that the man only existed as a series of sighs and Mmm’s that swirled around each bite. The nutella dip was worth every calorie. After a few moments, when their sugary treats were finally at an end, it was time to continue the hunt. Rebecca was ready to get some good merchandise and Booker was eager for the same. They had plenty of time before the panels they wanted to attend. It was time for swag!

Dusting sugar off of himself, Booker stood and grinned at Rebecca as she joined him. Together they stepped into their nerd world, ready to rule.

They made quite the site walking in. There were plenty of impressive costumes already in attendance and Booker and Rebecca were already part of those ranks. The librarian grinned and agreed whenever someone wanted his photograph. He would pose, flex, and cause many a blush on a young woman or man’s face, but Booker loved every second. His favorite would occur when a rather delicate young woman shyly came up to them, a fan of both Becca and Booker’s Viewtube channels with a comic in hand depicting both the Atlantean and Atlantis Lass locked in heated combat. She wanted to know if they could re-enact the scene on the cover since their costumes were so spot on and it would make for a great pic.

Booker grinned. He wanted to do it, even if it meant having to hold Rebecca in some…awkward positions….but it was a sacrifice he would make for a comic love. Of course, he would only do so with Rebecca’s position so he tilted his head to her. ”What do you think?”

And just like that, emotional talk had passed and the two friends could feel comfortable joking around and slipping into their over-the-top characters. ”Whitever ye say, Yer Grace,” she answered sarcastically, unable to keep a grin off her blue lips. If Rebecca had not dated his sister, established a sibling-like relationship with him, cheated on his sister, or was still on the dating market, she could picture a fun, unpredictable time dating Booker. Librarian stereotypes aside, he was certainly the furthest thing from boring.

With churros thoroughly appreciated and consumed, they were both ready to check out the wares being peddled by the wide range of vendors. It was a unique mix only possible at a massive event, where several private creators would have small booths lined up next to the large booth of a multimedia company selling their licensed merch. There was something for everyone, as long as those everyones were head-over-heels in love with comic book culture.

The space was designed to be very open to allow for the hordes of people to pass around easily. Where there were hordes, there were also fans, and Becca and Booker both had fanbases present at the ComVention. This was what they put all that time into their costumes for. More accurately, this was what Rebecca put time into her costume for, and what Booker was exposing all his skin for; photo ops. After a slog through the murky waters of guilt and self-criticism, it was comforting to get a confidence boost from the people who loved her work and who were impressed by her costume.

One young woman came up and confessed herself as a fan of both their channels. She seemed almost starstruck, which was comforting, because it meant she was less likely to ask Rebecca a personal question about Nessa. If the girl followed both their channels, she was definitely aware of their relationship and possibly aware of their breakup. There was a curse to dating in the public eye, and Rebecca was still adjusting to its effects.

Instead of a question, the fan wanted a specific pose from a comic cover portraying both The Atlantean and Atlantis Lass. It appeared they had found the rarest of fans: someone who was into both creators and both characters they were portraying. This must have been the jackpot for her, and Rebecca did not want to disappoint.

Booker asked her how she felt about the prospect of recreating a potentially dangerous, definitively awkward pose for the sake of a photo. Rebecca sighed, but started rolling her shoulders and twisting her waist to loosen up for the stunt they were about to pull in the middle of the vendor floor. ”If ye hink those muscles of yers can keep me up, then Ah’m all fur thes.” He was going to have to hold her over his head, and it was on Rebecca to maintain balance while striking a dramatic pose. There were sooo many ways this could fail. ”An’ Ah expect those hands ay yers tae stay in Comic Code Authority-approved locations.”

The comic cover was an iconic one. It depicted one of the most exciting storylines for the Atlantean where he had been mind-controlled by some mad dictator to turn against his cousin and attempt to kill her. The dynamic image which graced the cover was enough to pull in readers of all ages, people who never thought that they would ever see these two individuals clash. It showed the Atlantean, his face a mask of rage, as he hefted the much smaller and younger superheroine above his head, ready to break her body upon the stones of the palace. It was a truly energetic cover and the sole reason as to why the sales for the Atlantean series boosted into record highs that year.

And now Booker was being asked to replicate that cover. Most would have been a little fearful of doing such a thing and, yes, he was a little scared that he could hurt Rebecca, but he was all the more willing to try it. The truth was that both Booker and Rebecca were perfect to try and copy the image because he was much larger, muscular, and possessed a pretty high level of strength. In contrast, Rebecca was much smaller than him and lithe of frame. If anyone would have been able to pull it off, it was the two of them but he hoped that nothing would go wrong.

So he asked. Of course he would never just pick up the redhead without her permission so he inquired if she was up for doing something like this. A glance at Rebecca showed that she seemed just a tad bit unsure but she was willing to do what she could for her fans. So with a nod of her head and smile, she agreed that the picture could be taken. However she clearly had to voice a concern that was one her mind.

>> ”If ye hink those muscles of yers can keep me up, then Ah’m all fur thes.”

Booker smirked. Setting his trident against a nearby wall, Booker arched his arms, flexing his biceps in a clear show of his musculature. Booker was rarely cocky but when the opportunity presented itself, he couldn’t help but show off a little.

”I think I can manage,” he said, smiling innocently and dropped his arms to his side. ”Just don’t wriggle around too much.” He then turned to the fangirl who was still blushing from the gun-show that Booker had just presented her with. ”And you, take the picture fast, okay? I don’t want to her my friend here.”

As Rebecca moved closer to prepare herself, Booker loosened up his arms, hopped in place, and gave her a winning smile. People were starting to gathering, knowing that something was going to be happening. Booker didn’t seem to mind as he paid them no attention, his eyes instead focused solely on Rebecca. Part of him considered that maybe he should had said “No”, but he was too willing to try. And if he had Rebecca’s permission, he didn’t want to go back on his word towards his fan. So, with a breath, he would try.

He stepped closer to Rebecca, watching as she only came up to his chest, and smirked down at her as he reached down, his hands resting on her waist. He started to count down, wordlessly, when she stopped him and gave him a scrutinizing gaze.

>> ”An’ Ah expect those hands ay yers tae stay in Comic Code Authority-approved locations.”

He snorted. ”You realize those were only created because some psychotherapist thought that kids were turning into insane killers, right?” He beamed a knowing smile. But he relented with a nod. ”I’ll keep is PG. PG-13 at most.”

Watching her face, Booker breathed a deep breath, counted down slowly to her, and once they hit thee, Booker lifted the young woman upwards. It took some effort because she wasn’t exactly a safe of feathers, but he managed far easier than most. People Oooh’d and Ahh’d at the man’s display of strength. He helped her drape across his shoulders, only wincing slightly at the added weight. Looking back at the cover, he blindly felt around to where he needed to heft Rebecca up. One hand was supposed to be on her throat and the other on her upper back but that was physically impossible without immediately dropping her. No, there would have to be some concessions.

He shifted one to one cheek of her posterior, and the other around her shoulder / back. Cautiously he called up to Rebecca since he couldn’t see her. ”You okay up there?” he asked. "Jesus...maybe I shouldn't have fed you that churro before doing this." he teased. But he got to business soon enough. ”I’m lifting you up. Get ready to pose.” Counting down in his head, Booker slowly lifted Rebecca up so as to not startle her, holding her dramatically over his head and a look of fierce, maddened anger across his face as he posed for the picture.

God he hoped that the picture was taken fast.

They were probably making a needlessly reckless decision to recreate a physically unrealistic comic cover, but Rebecca and Booker were entertainers and crowd pleasers. They would make an effort, and if it failed, she imagined the worst she would incur might be some bruises and a wounded sense of pride.

Booker assured her that he should be able to hold up his end of the bargain if she was not one to fidget, and he assured her his hands would behave themselves. He also could not help but take the opportunity to impress her with his knowledge of comic history trivia. Between the way he was dressed and his extensive knowledge of nerd culture, Rebecca was certain she could wing-woman for him at an event like ComVention. With their combined charm, she could totally help Booker nab a husband or wife if he so chose.

They were as ready as they could be, so Rebecca offered her body to Booker, jumping up to help him get her draped over his shoulders. He took the opportunity to make a cheeky jab at her recent snack. He could not see her from atop his shoulders, but she was pouting. ”More sass loch ‘at an’ we can dae muir fight photos.”

His next cheeky move specifically involved one of her cheeks. Grabbing her butt was not quite PG—maybe the PG-13 at most he warned about, but it was also the easiest place to lift her, so she let it slide. After he got a handle of her bottom and her shoulder, he hoisted her into the air. She could feel his arms shaking a little, since it was not the best position to hold another person.

Rebecca tried to get her positioning right as quickly as she could, bending her left knee and pointing it in the air, while her right dangled behind Booker. She folded one arm over waist and held the other past her head, subtly using her bicep to press against her wig so it did not slip off while she was horizontal in the air.

She put on her “battle face,” and they did their best to hold their position as long as they could, hearing multiple people’s cameras and camera phone apps clicking. It felt good for their effort to be rewarded, but from Rebecca’s position, she could not see much of what was going on. Through closed teeth, she asked, ”Hoo ye holdin’ up, Atlantean?” The longer she was up in the air, surely the harder it became for Booker to keep her precariously balanced.