holy slightly-misleading chapter names batman

This wasn't what I was originally planning for this chapter but I like what it is. It's short but sweet and a nice read.

Travel was always fun, right? The sights, the sounds, the culture, the—

Oh, who was she kidding? It was extremely stressful to be a visiting dignitary, especially in her present situation. She was supposed to be in talks with leaders of several countries early tomorrow in order to try to avoid potential unrest in the region, and she didn't feel the slightest bit prepared.

She and her entourage had arrived late that night and taken their rest in a hotel. A few important members of her Cabinet were rooming together down the hall. Her vice president Jeff, who'd brought his husband, was in the room next door.

…And Steven lay behind her in what appeared to be a very peaceful slumber.

From her place under the covers, she placed her eyes on a scuff mark partway up the wall, running over her planned talking points for the meetings tomorrow. For the two-hundred-and-seventy-third time.

She sighed. Why couldn't she just sleep? She knew that was what she really needed but it just wouldn't come.

Biting her lip, she—

A rhythmic poke rapped against her back, ripping her from her worries. She turned over and found herself greeted with the familiar pointed hand of a certain First Man in her face. It was a tell; he seemed as nervous as she was.

…He was doing finger guns in his sleep again.

"Steven. Steven," she whispered.

"Mmph, chille tid," he mumbled, still completely out.

She snorted; she'd have to tell the Prime Minister of Norway about that later. After composing herself once more, she shook her husband lightly and whispered his name again.

He moaned for a moment as he was pulled from his sleep. "Guh—Connie?" He rubbed the tired from his eyes. "It's..." he looked at the clock, "4 am. Is everything okay? Oh my gosh, there's not a national emergency, is there?" He looked ready to summon his shield from his supine position.

She chuckled lightly and shook her head as she turned on the light and sat up in bed, prompting him to do the same. For a moment, all was silent as they acclimated to the light, but Connie spoke up when the silence threatened to stretch into an awkward impasse that'd get them nowhere.

"You wouldn't happen to be… nervous about tomorrow, would you?" she asked.

"Wha—nah… no? Uh-uhm, of course not!"

"Steven, you were," she mimed the action as she described it, "doing the finger gun thing again."

Steven blushed as he tried to deny it. "Oh, come on, I don't only do that when I'm nervous."

"Maybe not," she smirked, "but you mostly do it then."

"Bu—" He closed his mouth without even finishing the word. He'd started doing the finger gun thing probably even before he'd been told about it—Pearl had caught him doing it when she watched him sleep way back when. It hadn't seemed to correlate with stressful events all those years ago, but things had changed sometime after… Homeworld. Of course it would've, he'd been stranded days without food and water and witnessed a death—that could have turned any innocuous tic of his into something borne of worry. He sighed.

"…Fine, I am nervous." He paused. "…You're nervous, too, right?" He'd be loath to think he was the only one and that she'd only spoken up because she'd been rudely awakened by a couple not-so-well-placed pokes!

"Of course I'm nervous." She wrapped her arms around herself. "What if they think what I have to say is stupid? What if this doesn't work?"

Steven rubbed her back. "Hey, I'm sure it'll… probably work? You put a lot of thought and research into what you came up with, right?" She nodded. "And these people don't seem like complete monsters! And… um… if they are, that's why you brought me along!"

A thin smile spread across her lips. "I asked you to come as moral support and a wise voice in the discussions, not just to fuse into Stevonnie!"

"Yeah, but it'd be fun, wouldn't it?" he goaded.

"…Not for the reasons we'd be doing it for if it came up tomorrow." She bit her lip.

He thought that over for a moment, looking down at the bedspread. He felt like he needed to say something to lighten the mood, but he couldn't think of a single thing.

"So… why are you nervous?" Connie smoothed the section of comforter underneath her hands, breaking up the monotony before Steven's eyes.

"Ah, this is gonna sound silly… but I felt like I wasn't gonna be much help to you."

An incredulous tone saturated Connie's next sentence. "Excuse me? Steven Quartz Universe didn't think he'd be a help to me? You—in a way—helped me get elected. You helped me by agreeing to marry me. You helped me by becoming my friend 25 years ago. Even if you were completely useless tomorrow—which you won't be, I'm sure of it—you've helped me more than enough over the years to make up for it." She placed a light kiss on his cheek.

Steven smiled, almost tearing up at such lovely remarks. He sniffed sharply in an almost-laugh.

"Geez, you really know how to lion a mood," he said, giving some decidedly-not-nervous finger guns.

That forced Connie into a laughing fit. "Lion's not even here, you goof!"

Steven gave nothing but a guffaw in response, a sound that only intensified as Connie tried and failed to come up with her own finger-gun-worthy pun.

A sudden knock at the door brought them back to silence, even more so as they remembered the time. Their shoulders tensed slightly as they looked to each other, sure they would be on the receiving end of a hushed tirade from a haggard night manager about "don't you realize people have to sleep!?"

Cautiously, Connie rose from the bed and peered through the peephole on the door before opening it to reveal a familiar gangly man and his husband.

"…Hey, are you guys nervous about tomorrow?"

The people I chatted with to arrive at "Steven does finger guns in his sleep" are probably the best thing that ever happened to me.