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Ami was right, it had been a while. When they had both been spending most of their time at the Mansion, they would cross paths on occasion, but Becca’s renowned struggles with keeping touch affected many friendships. After the Ragman incident, she dropped off the social scene so she could recover. By the time she had righted her ship, she was up to her neck in college work, and then she was leaving the country for Grad School. That was how it went with too many of her old friends.

Except Ami. Thinking about it, the two had not talked since well before the Ragman abducted her. Rebecca had actually been avoiding Ami for a while, if she recalled correctly. She had been feeling awkward since—

Gawain. Right. Becca had been keeping her distance from Ami because she found the prospect of being around her uncomfortable given the one-night stand she shared with the other woman’s ex. To the present day, she never asked Gawain if Ami might have known about what happened, and she had no desire to ask Ami outright. It was not that she thought herself in the wrong; at the time, she and Gawain were both single, bitter young adults. That did not change how guilty she would have felt with Ami’s eyes passing judgment on her for her transgression.

It was not as though Becca intended to never talk to Ami! She was waiting for the awkwardness to pass, and fully intended to break the silence when she was ready. Her life ended up so shaken up that year, she never found the chance.

Maybe now, as full-fledged adults, they could make up for lost time? Ami greeted her by her ViewTube handle, which drew a blush to her cheeks that was thankfully covered by her mask. ”Jist glad tae be back. Yoo’re right; it’s been tae long.” She sounded friendly enough, but Becca pushed the thought back for the moment; they were there for a reason, and the robot... beetle… child… was their priority. Ami cast her eyes off in the distance, and Becca followed suit to spot a blue… object? Creature? A blue thing in the distance.

Ami was right; they needed to get closer if they really wanted to figure out what they were dealing with. ”Aye, let’s approach an’ see if we can handle thes withit things getting messy.” She wanted to be optimistic, but experience told her to expect mess. Gesturing with her shield arm, she smiled, ”Leid th’ way, Officer.” She was there to have Ami’s back, but she was the Police Officer, and it was her situation to take the lead on.

Leo’s defense of her accent earned him a grin from the teacher. ”Ah certainly hope sae. Nae 'at Ah cooldnae change it,” she clarified, switching over to the American accent she was constantly working on to diversify herself for Voice Acting work, ”But it takes more focus to improvise while I’m trying to keep this accent going. It’s far, far easier with a script and some practice.” It was not perfect, and a touch of her Scottish lilt could still be caught in her speech, but it was more passable than most American’s attempts at her own accent.

New questions came through, getting Pixelbecky to think about where she found her influences. ”Honestly, a lot ay it comes frae th' other creators Ah hae a lot ay respect fur. Th' Pow Block Party, GloveOnFoot, an' pretty much anyain Ah've collaborated wi'.” Rebecca spent a lot of her time on ViewTube watching other people’s stuff, particularly during her time recovering from the Ragman incident, so her “influences” were probably wide reaching across many different styles.

”Plenty ay whit Ah dae jist comes frae whit Ah’m loch when Ah am shootin' th' sh—um.” Before Becca could finish her thought, she remembered that she was technically still a teacher on site at her school. ”When Ah hang out wi’ mah friends. We gie nerdy ur we rant abit things, an' jist gab. Ah think mah channel is a conversation, sae Ah treat it loch one.”

Moving on, she heard the hate mail question and smirked. ”Ah’m a girl. Wi’ opinions on comics and video games and politics. Who is bi. And a mutant. Aye, Ah get hate mail.” It was the hardest part of adjusting to her life in a public spotlight. Everything she said was wrong, and she could see people telling her to kill herself in everything from her comments section, inbox, and actual PO Box. ”It wisnae easy reit awa'. Afair mah videos started gainin' traction, Ah was gettin' an occasional nice comment haur an' thaur. 'En Ah went viral, an' woke up tae comments sections filled wi' hate.”

It was easy to recall how overwhelming that sensation was at first. ”It was everythin'. Ah was wrang. Ah was dumb. Ah was somehaw tay much ay a prude an' a total slut. It was insults an' threats an' crass requests. Ah stopped makin' videos fur a few days coz Ah thooght Ah was in ower mah heed. But 'en Ah really looked at th' comments.

“Th’ hate was thaur, yes, bit it was smaller ‘en Ah gave it credit fur. Insteid ay focusin' oan 'at, Ah focused oan th' loove. Th' guid comments. E'en th' constructife criticism. Plenty ay fowk wanted tae support me an' see me succeed. Ah choose tae focus on th’ loove.” Pixelbecky smiled to the camera, hoping amidst the denizens of the internet, her fans were on the other end, as well. ”Another stoatin’ creator said it best: th’ more people yoo’re seen by, the moor yoo’ll be hated nae matter whit ye dae, sae ye might as weel jist dae yer own thing.”

The next question was more of a request for a job application. She giggled at the thought of her own assistant. ” Ah dunnae know abit an assistant, but if Ah can ever justify it, Ah micht tak' oan an editur. Sae keep hiner alife, guys!” The thought had crossed her mind to expand, (even if that just meant hiring on one other person,) but at the level she was at, and juggling two careers, a full time editor was just not a priority.

Rebecca was lingering in the training facility at the Mansion, hoping to keep herself sharp. She was not working through any issues at the moment; in fact, life was really beginning to stabilize. She was feeling successful in both her jobs, she had a supportive group of friends which included the former love of her life, and she was starting to feel closer with her new girlfriend, Nessa. She was not there to take out anger on a heavy bag or run through sadness and tears.

With all the time she took off for the Ragman incident recovery, college, and her trip to England for her Masters, Rebecca was just looking to ensure she was on her A game and in peak physical condition. Her return to the X-Men already led her into one dangerous situation, (which some could debate she played a role in causing,) and she knew well enough to know more trouble would follow soon enough.

Soon might be that day, as it would turn out. Being at the Mansion already allowed Becca to be the first one to receive the alert from their friends over at the New York City Police Department. She had to hear the message three times to really process what exactly she was being called in for as backup. A large blue bug pony, possibly a mutant, possibly a robot. There were crazy situations Rebecca had dealt with since coming to the city: a sewer dwelling tyrant, a living building, reporters. This one sounded like a prime candidate to top the list.

It was nice getting back into her X outfit. Sure, she used it for training exercises, but that was not the same as bringing it out into the real world. When she was young and shy, the skintight nature of her costume was blush-inducing, but a more adult Rebecca had plenty of time to feel comfortable in her own skin. Over the black and green suit, she equipped her chestplate and metal boots, along with new additions to the costume in metal gauntlets replacing the bangles she once wore. The circular shield Cafas had provided her with was magnetically connected to her left gauntlet until she had use for it. The finishing touch, as always, was her green domino mask adhered to her face with spirit gum, and she was out the door to provide backup for one of the good women in blue.

Imagine her surprise when she arrived to Central Park and found a familiar face. ”Ami?” Ami was the one who was at Rebecca’s side when they dealt with the Sewer King, and she was one of the people who walked in on Rebecca and Agnes after the first time they—

Focusing on the task at hand. ”Guid tae see ye. Didne know ye took up th' badge! Sae, caur tae explain tae me whit th' heel we're dealin' wi' thes time?”

The door opened and, as Becca hoped, she was greeted by her oldest and greyest American friend, Gina Schuyler. As she could have expected, she was welcomed immediately with a big, tight hug. Happy to reciprocate, her arms wrapped around Gina’s waist and squeezed her with all the love she had for the girl, even after several years. ”It’s bin tay lang, Gina. it’s guid tae see ye, tay.”

Rebecca looked Gina over as the other woman did the same, and the glossy look in Gina’s watery eyes drew tears to the corners of Becca’s eyes as well.

Gina flattered her and her youthful appearance. Rebecca always hoped she would take after her mother when it came to aging, who could still pass as the younger Scot’s older sister to this day. The last time she saw Gina, the girl was still in her teens, and she had not age as much as she matured. ”An’ look at ye! Yoo’ve gain frae bein' a bonnie lass tae a beautiful woman in mah absence! Mah, hoo time flies,” she mused with a sad smile, wishing she had been there to watch Gina grow through her first years of college.

Rebecca was invited up to Gina’s room, and she nodded enthusiastically. ”Aye, please dae. Leid th’ way.”

As they walked up the stairs, Rebecca thought on how to answer the question of how she had been. ”Guid. Adjustin’ tae bein’ back. Lots changed. But Ah’m teachin’ noo, an’ yoo’ve seen mah other job,” she said, referencing her role as Pixelbecky. ”Ain, weel, I kinda sorta hae a new girlfriend.” As someone who considered Agnes a sister, and always seemed to support their relationship, Rebecca was curious how Gina would feel about the two women moving on from one another.

Rebecca did her best to comply with Agnes’s last request to hurry, but foot traffic on New York sidewalks was a nightmare. Their apartments were surprisingly close, (which would surely be a fact River would hate to hear,) so there was no point in dealing with the hassle that was driving in New York City.

She walked with a sense of urgency until she caught the scent of a Mediterranean food stand. Rebecca’s favorite quality about a big city like New York was the diversity of food options. Pretty much any culture had made it to the metropolis and they all established at least one good restaurant and several food stands. Her priorities shifted slightly, prompting her to wait in line and pick herself up a gyro. Helping Agnes was going to be hungry work, and Rebecca had not grabbed food since breakfast. After she placed her order, she paused, and added a second order for another gyro as an apology for her self-imposed delay.

Rebecca spotted Agnes’s car parked and peeked inside, but was greeted by an empty cabin. There was no cat anywhere she could see, so either the kitten had escaped Agnes, (or at least she hoped it was an escape and not an intentional release,) or it tagged along up to the apartment.

On the way up the stairs, Rebecca’s phone buzzed in her pocket. Not only was she given a status update on the mystery kitten, she even earned a picture. It was probably frustrating for Agnes dealing with this stray making herself at home, but Rebecca was excited to insert herself into the situation, probably making it more annoying.

When she finally made it to Agnes’s floor, the door to the apartment was still cracked open, so Rebecca tucked the small brown bag with their food under one arm and slowly opened the door further with the other. She cautiously peeked inside, assuming Agnes would know, with Rebecca coming over, to be dressed for her company, (which meant a very different thing these days than it once did.) ”Ello?”

Scanning the room, Rebecca saw her ex, as well as her adorable Russian Blue stray. Picking up on the details of the scene, she noticed the grocery bags, including one that one tipped, with the contents spilled across the couch leading to the foot of the kitten.

Smirking, Rebecca walked in and explained, ”Ye brooght up yer messages an' somehaw did nae notice th' stowaway nuzzled next tae yer veggies, an' noo she is claimin' yer cooch as 'er ain. That is whit happened,” she finished smugly, answering the question Agnes had texted her moments earlier.

Girlfriend!

Rebecca had a girlfriend! For the first time in over two god***n years, she had an honest-to-goodness romantic partner. It just happened one night. The words slipped through her lips in a whisper: “I like you, Nessa.” It was the first time Rebecca brought actual feelings into what they were doing, and that tiny crack opened everything else up, leaving them talking late into the night. Nessa looked her right in the eyes and asked if Rebecca was really ready for what she was proposing. She even mentioned Agnes, which was uncomfortable, but fair. Nessa did not just forget why she was called over to the apartment that first night.

She was ready, and when she promised that to Nessa, the other girl wrapped her in her arms for a long, tender kiss. Eventually, Rebecca would admit that Agnes helped her get to the point where she could move forward. The exes shared a friendly night where Rebecca was there for Agnes as a friend, and in return, she received the support of her friend to move forward with her life. Rebecca did not “owe” Agnes anything, nor did she need permission, but she needed closure, and maybe sharing that night as friends was enough for her to look kindly on the past and step toward a different future.

Life was actually coming together. She often viewed her life divided between the realms of social, romantic, and career, and for the first time since her return to the States, she was firing on all cylinders. Socially, she was reconnecting with so many old friends and making new ones: Gina, Maya, Serena, and Juliette were all regular parts of her life, and most importantly, Agnes was really back. They texted, they would make occasional plans, and somehow things felt less awkward each time they saw one another.

Romantically, making the healthy decision to commit to Nessa and allow herself to be happy again was huge. They were no longer ending every night in her bed, but they were still seeing each other consistently, and somehow the Scot was not driving the New York native insane. They were still early in their actual relationship, having been an “item” for only a few weeks, but it felt uncomplicated. The girls could talk or sit in silence and be content. Nessa even confessed her one big secret to her new girlfriend, and Rebecca was pleased to feel like someone’s confidante.

She was even taking positive steps in her career. Classes were going well, new videos were getting a lot of love, and she was finally writing again. It was not perfect, but she was finally falling into a groove.

The last text Nessa had sent Rebecca on this particular afternoon was confirmation that her team’s editor was willing to handle some of her new videos, incorporating visual concepts she wanted to test out. One benefit of dating within the ViewTube community was that the squad from Nessa’s channel were taking a shine to her and helping her out, like she had an editor-in-law.

It was good news to balance out the obvious truth: if Nessa was helping with editing, there was a chance the lovers would not be seeing each other that night. Rebecca held on to hope, but in the meantime, she was confident enough with where they stood that she could take the afternoon to herself to jot down lines and ideas into her notebook.

The apartment was filled with mellow instrumental pieces so Rebecca could focus on the words in her head. She was back in her own little world until a new instrument broke the spell her pen had over her.

A tune played on a violin piped up from her phone, signaling a call from Agnes. She smiled; the butterflies she would have once felt were quiet, but she was happy to hear that melody nonetheless. Picking up the device, she replied, ”Guid day thaur, Aggie. What's up?”