Post by Willie Barbary on Jan 9, 2009 13:37:16 GMT -5
Willie blew out another nervous sigh as she let Miller escort her into the extremely pricey restaurant. As she was dressed in a shimmery silver sheath and Miller in an all-black suit, no one cast them more than a cursory glance. The pilot was still extremely jumpy however. Not only because of the news she had to somehow work up the courage to spill to her mother and father, but also due to the regular patrols of UE military that passed the streets outside. They were pirates and wanted fugitives and neck-deep in London, capitol of United Earth.
"Relax," Miller murmured for what was probably the ten thousandth time.
"I can't relax," Willie whimpered back, gray eyes desperate. "Any minute now some crazy bounty hunter is going to pop out of the potted plants and capture us. Or the patrols outside are gonna come arrest us. Or my parents are going to flay me alive when they find out I'm unmarried and pregnant."
Miller just rolled his eyes a little with a tiny sigh, but reached down to rub her lower back through the dress. Which he'd taken off and put back on her twice since she'd first put it on in the hotel. Hence why they were nearly late for the dinner. Nearly, but not quite.
After another minute, Miller managed to coax her forward again. They got to the hostess, who checked their names, saw that they had reservations and then began leading them through the main part of the dining room. Of course, her father had reserved one of the more private--and pricey--alcoves, mostly enshrouded by expensive Venusian silk.
As soon as her father saw her approach he stood, his smile torn between elated and strained. Elated to see her no doubt, strained to see Miller standing beside her. Willie winced a little when the former Mamba's hold on her waist tightened just a fraction. Not nearly enough to hurt, of course. But plenty enough to be felt. And seen.
Luckily her mother stood and swept forward before Miller or her father could say anything, possibly causing problems. Zaira enfolded Willie in a warm hug, chattering cheerily on how nice it was to see them and how well she looked. The black woman turned from her daughter after a moment and took in Miller, who didn't shy away from the stare. After a brief minute, the older woman began to smile.
"Hmm, he's very handsome Willona," Zaira purred with a small grin. "Mother approves."
That caused Miller to grin somewhat shamelessly and Willie to let out a sigh and roll her eyes.
"Why don't we all have a seat," her father suddenly called, deep voice a touch on the gruff side but clearly attempting to be civil, "so we can go ahead and get dinner ordered. I don't know about either of you, but I'm starving. Your mother's been trying to force me to eat nothing but rabbit food for the past month."
"Doctor's orders, woogums," Zaira called airily as the beautiful aristocrat floated over to her husband and took a seat next to him at the round table. Willie took the seat next to her father--just in case things got ugly, they'd have to go over the top of her to strangle each other--and Miller took the only other seat left.
After the waitress had come and gone with their orders, her father levied a heavy sigh and propped his elbows on the table, folding his hands in front of his face. Willie let out a mental groan--knowing from experience what that posture meant.
"Now then, Willona. Do have any plans for your future? Besides playing pirate with this fellow here and possibly getting yourself killed?"
"Dad," she groaned, rolling her eyes a little.
"Nick, you promised me you'd behave," Zaira called then, her dark face beginning to screw up into a pout. Nicholas Barbary shot his wife an innocent look.
"Nonsense, Zaira, I am behaving. I'd just like to know what my daughter plans to do with herself for the next thirty to forty years, now that she's completely thrown her military career into the dumpster, all for the 'love' of some Mamba-trained traitor."
"Daddy, I talked to you about that," Willie snapped back instantly, spine straightening and fire licking in her eyes. "You said so yourself that you would've done the same thing in his position."
"I said I would have let that LeValle bastard rot in hell," he corrected, "I never said I would have dragged you down right along with me. That is where we're going to have problems." The blonde Admiral met his daughter's stubborn glare with a completely identical stare. "He's unstable--all those snakes are one hairsbreadth away from a complete mental breakdown from all the conditioning those psychopaths put them through--he's been labeled a traitor by the UE miltary, a wanted fugitive and now a pirate on top of everything else. And not just any pirate. An officer in the command of the most infamous and wanted pirate flying the star systems. Now you tell me, how is a father supposed to react to his only daughter being put in that kind of situation, hmm?" he demanded angrily, his gray eyes snapping off of Willie to pin Miller to the spot instead.
"Actually, mental instability is screened out of Mamba training fairly early on," Miller returned, his tone--as always--calm and matter-of-fact in the face of her father's overprotective anger. "The mentally unstable don't quite cut it through the first few years of training. But that's a common misconception, "Miller said calmly and rationally. "As for being a traitor, are you familiar with Anton LeValle at all? It was my job to watch that psychopath torture his daughter for years and turn her into something more animal than human. So being part of the most wanted pirate in the system's crew seems a bit less morally bankrupt than working for the UE military for me."
Willie almost gave into the urge to put her face in her hands as her father stiffened his spine until it nearly snapped under the strain, his feathers clearly ruffled. "LeValle is nowhere near an accurate representation of the United Earth Fleet," the Admiral growled, pride pricked.
"No, he's not," Willie agreed somewhat loudly, "and he's dead now, so it's a moot discussion. Let's move on, shall we?"
"I agree," Zaira called breezily. "Willona, sweetums, you simply must tell me where you got that gown. I love the cut."
Usually Willie hated to talk about clothes, but in this instance she shot her mother a thankful look before dredging up every single boring detail of her shopping excursion, if just to fill the table with non-violent talk. Miller subsided easily enough, smiling faintly in her direction. Her father's lapse into silence was a little more grudging, but he conceded for now.
The rest of the dinner passed okay. Not completely relaxed, but civil enough. After Willie finished off her entire plate as well as desert however her mother started throwing her a curious, probing stare and the former pilot knew she was going to have to come clean. She wrung her hands under the table for a moment, then finally took a deep breath and went for the plunge.
"Mom, Dad, I . . . um . . . w-we have something to tell you." Zaira's expression started brightening with impending glee, while her father's face darkened into a look of stunned horror. Willie winced a little in her father's direction, her stare almost begging him to be happy. "I . . . I'm pregnant."
"Relax," Miller murmured for what was probably the ten thousandth time.
"I can't relax," Willie whimpered back, gray eyes desperate. "Any minute now some crazy bounty hunter is going to pop out of the potted plants and capture us. Or the patrols outside are gonna come arrest us. Or my parents are going to flay me alive when they find out I'm unmarried and pregnant."
Miller just rolled his eyes a little with a tiny sigh, but reached down to rub her lower back through the dress. Which he'd taken off and put back on her twice since she'd first put it on in the hotel. Hence why they were nearly late for the dinner. Nearly, but not quite.
After another minute, Miller managed to coax her forward again. They got to the hostess, who checked their names, saw that they had reservations and then began leading them through the main part of the dining room. Of course, her father had reserved one of the more private--and pricey--alcoves, mostly enshrouded by expensive Venusian silk.
As soon as her father saw her approach he stood, his smile torn between elated and strained. Elated to see her no doubt, strained to see Miller standing beside her. Willie winced a little when the former Mamba's hold on her waist tightened just a fraction. Not nearly enough to hurt, of course. But plenty enough to be felt. And seen.
Luckily her mother stood and swept forward before Miller or her father could say anything, possibly causing problems. Zaira enfolded Willie in a warm hug, chattering cheerily on how nice it was to see them and how well she looked. The black woman turned from her daughter after a moment and took in Miller, who didn't shy away from the stare. After a brief minute, the older woman began to smile.
"Hmm, he's very handsome Willona," Zaira purred with a small grin. "Mother approves."
That caused Miller to grin somewhat shamelessly and Willie to let out a sigh and roll her eyes.
"Why don't we all have a seat," her father suddenly called, deep voice a touch on the gruff side but clearly attempting to be civil, "so we can go ahead and get dinner ordered. I don't know about either of you, but I'm starving. Your mother's been trying to force me to eat nothing but rabbit food for the past month."
"Doctor's orders, woogums," Zaira called airily as the beautiful aristocrat floated over to her husband and took a seat next to him at the round table. Willie took the seat next to her father--just in case things got ugly, they'd have to go over the top of her to strangle each other--and Miller took the only other seat left.
After the waitress had come and gone with their orders, her father levied a heavy sigh and propped his elbows on the table, folding his hands in front of his face. Willie let out a mental groan--knowing from experience what that posture meant.
"Now then, Willona. Do have any plans for your future? Besides playing pirate with this fellow here and possibly getting yourself killed?"
"Dad," she groaned, rolling her eyes a little.
"Nick, you promised me you'd behave," Zaira called then, her dark face beginning to screw up into a pout. Nicholas Barbary shot his wife an innocent look.
"Nonsense, Zaira, I am behaving. I'd just like to know what my daughter plans to do with herself for the next thirty to forty years, now that she's completely thrown her military career into the dumpster, all for the 'love' of some Mamba-trained traitor."
"Daddy, I talked to you about that," Willie snapped back instantly, spine straightening and fire licking in her eyes. "You said so yourself that you would've done the same thing in his position."
"I said I would have let that LeValle bastard rot in hell," he corrected, "I never said I would have dragged you down right along with me. That is where we're going to have problems." The blonde Admiral met his daughter's stubborn glare with a completely identical stare. "He's unstable--all those snakes are one hairsbreadth away from a complete mental breakdown from all the conditioning those psychopaths put them through--he's been labeled a traitor by the UE miltary, a wanted fugitive and now a pirate on top of everything else. And not just any pirate. An officer in the command of the most infamous and wanted pirate flying the star systems. Now you tell me, how is a father supposed to react to his only daughter being put in that kind of situation, hmm?" he demanded angrily, his gray eyes snapping off of Willie to pin Miller to the spot instead.
"Actually, mental instability is screened out of Mamba training fairly early on," Miller returned, his tone--as always--calm and matter-of-fact in the face of her father's overprotective anger. "The mentally unstable don't quite cut it through the first few years of training. But that's a common misconception, "Miller said calmly and rationally. "As for being a traitor, are you familiar with Anton LeValle at all? It was my job to watch that psychopath torture his daughter for years and turn her into something more animal than human. So being part of the most wanted pirate in the system's crew seems a bit less morally bankrupt than working for the UE military for me."
Willie almost gave into the urge to put her face in her hands as her father stiffened his spine until it nearly snapped under the strain, his feathers clearly ruffled. "LeValle is nowhere near an accurate representation of the United Earth Fleet," the Admiral growled, pride pricked.
"No, he's not," Willie agreed somewhat loudly, "and he's dead now, so it's a moot discussion. Let's move on, shall we?"
"I agree," Zaira called breezily. "Willona, sweetums, you simply must tell me where you got that gown. I love the cut."
Usually Willie hated to talk about clothes, but in this instance she shot her mother a thankful look before dredging up every single boring detail of her shopping excursion, if just to fill the table with non-violent talk. Miller subsided easily enough, smiling faintly in her direction. Her father's lapse into silence was a little more grudging, but he conceded for now.
The rest of the dinner passed okay. Not completely relaxed, but civil enough. After Willie finished off her entire plate as well as desert however her mother started throwing her a curious, probing stare and the former pilot knew she was going to have to come clean. She wrung her hands under the table for a moment, then finally took a deep breath and went for the plunge.
"Mom, Dad, I . . . um . . . w-we have something to tell you." Zaira's expression started brightening with impending glee, while her father's face darkened into a look of stunned horror. Willie winced a little in her father's direction, her stare almost begging him to be happy. "I . . . I'm pregnant."
