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River had a lot of regrets when it came to January. Sometimes they even dreamed about being back at Tereshkova wharf and saying, so simple really, “Maybe we could go out for coffee and talk about sea shanties and the Crossing and how to make cages better?” And in the dream usually there was kissing at some point. Kissing January with no cage on, under a metal catwalk, in a Tereshkova Wharf suddenly empty but for the two of them. Those were the kinds of dreams where your brain autocorrected for realities of a past that you could never go back and get right.
River also had regrets about their marriage. Well, not their marriage; the marriage itself was a gift, one they knew they didn’t deserve. But they definitely had regrets about their wedding. Like any production at that level, it had been rehearsed until there was no room for error. River had assumed that meant they would feel nothing, just as they felt during rehearsals. But then instead of icy calm they felt a strange fluttering in their midriff, something they usually associated with moments of discovery, when they encountered a new puzzle waiting to be worked out. It only occurred to them much later that January was the puzzle, and the fluttering was the delicious hold he had on them settling into place.
They remembered walking towards him and admitting to themselves that he was pretty. Beautiful, really. Poised, graceful, utterly unique among the unvaried, filter-corrected Tharsese masses. Worse, or as they later admitted, even better, they were attracted to him as if they were both magnets, pulling towards each other in the long arc of the wedding march.
When they met in the middle and clasped hands it felt like the moment you touch something too hot and instead of feeling burned you only feel the shock of it. And that shock felt like it maybe could be fear, so they pulled their hand away to tuck it into their sleeve, even though the script called for their fingers to linger in his. It felt like fear, but deep down they already knew it wasn’t.
On the way back up to Songshu, River’s eyes snagged on him, sitting alone by the window in the bustle of conversation and champagne. They wondered what it was like for him to see this Mars for the first time, as the train climbed out of the valley and into the sun. They saw him look up as he got their text, and he smiled. They would have gone over, but they didn’t know him, really, and it felt too…scary. A little kid word because they felt like a child. One who had been mauled by some domesticated animal who then fears every animal of that kind. And now they were thinking about him like an animal, and that was cruel and unwarranted.
In the end, January called them out on it. Named their fear. Told them they weren’t a robot but also not normal, but that was okay, because he wasn’t either. Then he even hinted that he liked an older partner. Which really meant nothing. Because any romance between them would be solely for the cameras. They were both sure of that. And if River had any doubts, January’s reaction to the idea, over coffee at the Tiangong, had shown them both how he really felt.
At the reception, of course there was no dancing. Which, if you thought about it, was ridiculous, for a professional dancer not to have the chance to sweep their spouse around the room in 3/4 time. But it wasn’t that kind of wedding and everyone knew it. They didn’t even sit together, because January might need to take off his gauntlets to eat, and Sasha Martinez wanted Gale as far as feasibly possible from him when he did it. From across the room, River watched as January lifted the bespoke tableware, specially ordered for him. After that awkward cup of coffee in his, well River didn’t think of it as a flat so much as a hovel, they had looked up the Earthstrong Living catalogue and been appalled anew. Some decent cups and chopsticks was the least they could do, as if there were really any way a little thoughtfulness could bridge the gulf between them.
At the end of the evening, when they walked him to his room, River thought he seemed shellshocked by the luxury of it all and maybe by a realization of what he had gotten himself into. And then that oath, giving River the key, in a flawlessly rehearsed but still (charmingly) accented Mandarin that hummed with the unique flavor of his vocal tract. It was perfect cinema, but yet, clearly wasn’t. There was a sincerity in January’s gesture that River couldn’t quite parse. Only far later did they realize how much January had longed to kneel before someone and give away part of himself, his freedom, to them. Maybe it could have been anyone, but it was them, and no matter what he said, River never felt like they had truly repaid him for that gift.
But one of the great things about five year marriages is that you could, if things worked out, keep throwing weddings until you got it right. And River was determined to get it right the second time around, to make some progress towards giving January as much as he had given them.
There was no second wedding on the calendar yet, but recently Mx. Ren had slyly added the next year of staff meetings and annual events to the Schedule, with January clearly listed as “required” at everything. And there was a conspicuously empty spot, three days, right in the middle of a jam packed week of campaign appearances, about six months from now. That was their senior staff’s way of berating them for not proposing yet.
In fact, River’s second wedding plans were developing rapidly, even outstripping events in that they hadn’t actually asked January to marry them a second time. In their mind, they were long past that, focused on more important things. First and foremost: there would be dancing. And they would have a fabulous first dance.
_________
“Mx. Martinez, you know what January likes.”
“Eh…likes, Consul?”
“Yes, likes, on the dance floor. I am starting to plan for…an important event where there will be dancing. And I need to know what he likes.”
“I think,” said Sasha diplomatically, “that he likes the process of working with a partner, figuring it out together. He’s quite a talented choreographer.”
River frowned. This certainly made good sense. But they were hoping for a surprise. “I’d like to surprise him.”
Now Sasha was frowning. “Does he like surprises?” And River had to admit that Sasha had a point. January had likely experienced enough surprises for a lifetime.
“And may I say, Congratulations to you both. I’m glad you’re doing a second marriage. We all are.”
That stopped River in their tracks. “Well, it’s not exactly settled yet. But I’m thinking ahead.”
“Ah. Well then it makes sense that you’re trying to get a few ideas for what he’d like. But when you do ask him, I know he’ll want to have a hand in the planning.”
On the train down to Tharsis early the next morning, watching dawn break over the sleeping city, River thought about Sasha’s words and interrogated their own motives. Yes, they wanted this second wedding to make up for everything that they were ashamed of about the first five months of their relationship. And they wanted January to be his wonderful self at his own wedding, not the isolated Earthstronger of that night four and a half years ago. If they were being honest, they wanted a do-over where they did everything right, because January had done nothing wrong.
Their mind wandered again over those first days. Seeing him dance for the first time, and the dust storm coming across the plain, the explosion and the shock of him sweeping them to the floor, heavy above them, their cheeks pressed together as he ducked his head from the flying glass. And how every day after that they had to pretend that they didn’t want to touch him, everywhere. Skin to skin, their fingers skimming over the meridians of cage-flesh-cage until they memorized every inch of January. And then they wanted to do it all over again with their mouth. The greatest moment of their life, by far, was the moment they realized, long after it should have been obvious, that he wanted the same thing. And then several twists of fate made it possible for them to have that, together, for the past four years.
They wanted to believe that those happy years lay like thick blanket over the past, buffering January from how the first few months of their relationship had played out. He asserted, many times, that it was all worth it, to be here with them, and to build a family together with them and Yuan. But how could that really be true?
The chime for Benin Gate station sounded, jostling them out of their reverie. They would be at Jade Hill for the next three days, plenty of time to ideate without January there to distract them.
____________
The music finished and they held the pose for a moment before relaxing, both of them stepping out of the dance frame back into a more Tharsis-appropriate personal space. “Nice! I think we’ve almost got it!” January said to Sasha, bright with excitement.
Sasha nodded, waving their hand at the opposite corner of the studio to indicate the rough spot in the routine. “Just that piece over there to figure out. We’ll start with that next time.” But they stood there, like they had something else to say. He tilted his head - he and Sasha had plenty of cues between them for his meaning to be clear: Go on, Martinez. Spit it out.
Sasha didn’t meet his eyes, focusing instead on an unraveling thread on their dancewear. Then they looked directly at him and said “You need to propose.”
The blood drained from January’s face, as if Sasha had told him he needed to wrestle a polar bear with his cage on. “Me! I’m pretty sure they have every aspect of this planned out. Down to the flower arrangements on the tables. And I don’t want to take any of that from them - they deserve exactly the wedding they want. The one we would have had if this had been a love match from the start.”
“But you do too. Do you want a wedding that is built around the flawless January-shaped stand-in that they keep in their head, or your actual self? And if they are doing all that work planning the perfect wedding, shouldn’t you at least take on the work of asking them?”
January didn’t look like that sounded too good to him. “Do you think they want me to? I mean, have they said something?”
Sasha shook their head. “No, but that’s just what concerns me. They are choreographing a wedding dance in their head down to the last step, but they’re skipping over the important part - the part where you actually confirm that you both want to be married to each other for five more years.”
January tended to listen to Sasha on matters related to marriage. The whole five year contract thing was baffling to him. He couldn’t understand how people here were so blasé about building a life with someone in five year chunks, knowing they might tell you, four and a half years in, to sod off and go live your own life again. Sasha gave him insights into how it was supposed to feel from the inside, if you had been born and raised here.
“They won’t say no.” they added, hitting the nail on the head. “You know they won’t, January.”
“They might.” January said, in a muddled kind of way that still managed to telegraph his darkest fears.
“And mammoths might fly. But they won’t. If Gale walked in right now, and you knew that you had to ask them for a second marriage or lose them forever, what would you say?”
January fought the panic that even a hypothetical ultimatum set spinning in his stomach and tried to think through it. “I guess, something about being very happy with our life, and wanting that to continue for another five years. And maybe some mushy romantic stuff. Private.” He scowled at Sasha, who held up their hands in a gesture of acquiescence.
“See, you’ve already got what you need to get the job done. Stop faffing about and get on with it.” And with that, Sasha turned and walked out of the studio so they could change in time for their shift.
________
The Consul exited the Senate chamber with two aides and three Senators all trying to talk to them at once. They managed to keep the overlapping conversations untangled, and answer the barrage of questions with their usual calmness. But everything in their head ground to a halt when they saw January waiting for them. With a simple “Excuse me,” they walked away from everyone and up to him.
They searched his face for signs of what kind of disaster could have brought him here during the session. The Schedule had him headed to Songshu now after a day of public appearances and meetings, and he was clearly dressed for that. “Everything okay?”
He nodded, smiling at them. “Totally okay. Everything’s fine. My last meeting was over in Americatown and I realized with a little bit of a detour I could see you, maybe order dinner in? Ren said it might work, Schedule-wise.”
“Yes.” Their chest filled with fluttery January feelings, like it always did when they unexpectedly got more time with him.
Dinner was lovely. The food was excellent, but River wasn’t paying much attention to it. They finished up with a cup of sweet spiced tea sitting on the couch.
“Schast'e moe,[1] I want to talk to you about something. It’s good,” he said preemptively when River tensed, “I just. I just want you to know how happy I am with you. I love our life together, and I love you more than I thought it was possible to love someone.”
River nodded. Suddenly, they saw where this was going, and everything, all of their elaborate plans, even talking to Sasha, seemed like just a way to fill time until January got up his nerve.
“So I want to ask you, will you do a second marriage with me? And literally make me the happiest person in the worlds?” He wasn’t kneeling, that didn’t really compute on Tharsis, but he had dipped forward in a sort of supplicating posture that did funny things to River’s insides.
They paused before answering. The answer should have been simple, but they wanted to replay the whole thing in their head a couple of times, to capture it for later.
In the meantime, January began to panic. “Um, River? Say something? Did, did I not get it right?”
“No.” Immediately, he looked like he might pass out. “I mean, no, it was all perfect. Of course, yes. Yes yes yes. I can’t imagine my life without you.” And they grabbed him awkwardly and crushed him to themself in an off-kilter kiss.
“I’m sorry,” January whispered when they finally let him sit back.
“About what?” River whispered back in between dropping tiny kisses on his temple.
“That, that wasn’t how I imagined it. I didn’t say all the romantic things I wanted to say. And, maybe I feel like I should have let you, you know, ask?”
River was shaking their head. “No. No I was just thinking this morning that I was being selfish. And, what’s that phrase you like? Letting the perfect be the enemy of the good?”
January hummed. “You’re already perfect, love. Full stop.”
River shook their head more adamantly. “No. No. You always say that but it’s not true. I was….so awful when we first met. And I wanted our second wedding to fix all that.”
“River.” January stopped. “River, there’s nothing to fix. I don’t regret a single moment of our relationship. Not the fear, or the jail time, or being shot or,” His voice cracked, and River refused to look away. “Any of it.”
“But…” River tried to object.
“No. Nope. Make me regret any of it, just go ahead and try. If you erased those things we went through, what would be left wouldn’t be enough to build what we have.” He swallowed hard and regrouped. “You know what I remember most from our wedding?”
River shook their head.
“I remember how you, or someone, ordered these custom, beautiful glasses and silverware so that I would feel like I belonged. That was you, wasn’t it?” River nodded, looking at him like he had surprised them with a present. “I remember thinking how welcomed I felt. You did so many thoughtful little things like that, even without knowing me. Just because we were married. It helped me understand that it was a real marriage, even if it wasn’t a love match.” His eyes drilled into them, as if he could make them believe him. “Look, it was weird. We were essentially two strangers who had just committed to a five year partnership playing out in front of the cameras. And we both kind of suspected that the other might be plotting to murder them.”
“I wasn’t,” River said.
January smiled “I know love. Neither was I. But we had to find our own way to that.”
“If I had just told you everything. As soon as I knew I could trust you. If I had given you your key, and kissed you…” They trailed off, uncharacteristically incoherent.
“If if if, then maybe. But what we have, serdtse moe,[2] is more than what we would have if it had all been that easy. And I wouldn’t trade us, this us, for anything.” He looked away. “Almost anything.”
River didn’t want him to get mired in those thoughts, so they decided it was time to kiss him and move on to the celebratory part of the evening.
________
The last note faded, and January gently returned River to their feet from the deep dip they were experimenting with as the final pose of their routine.[3] “What do you think?” he asked them.
“Mmm. Not sure. I think I liked the lift better. Because then you always kiss me.”
“I can kiss you in the dip. Let’s try it.” January supported them as they leaned back into the dip again, and he gave them a deep, passionate, camera-worthy kiss before bringing them back up.
"Well, that was lovely, but it's still not right. I can't figure out what is missing. The lift is closer, but..."
River was glad things had turned out this way. As Sasha had tried to tell them, there was no way that they could have put together a dance that would express all the feelings a first dance needed to. But January was an expert at this, one of the best on Mars, in fact. Not just the choreography, but the amount of research he had done on adaptive dance to ensure that River would be able to do complicated moves that relied on their strengths, rather than trying to cover up their missing leg. Like always, he saw them as a whole person, not just as a collection of parts to be manipulated this way and that. And they realized maybe he was the first person who had ever made them feel completely loved, with no carve-outs or caveats. They would be sure to tuck that into their folder of "things to mention the next time you get to propose to January."
January nodded, "I think it might be about balancing the final components between us, because that's how we tend to dance. How about if I spin you around as we finish the lift, and then we can flow into you dipping me?"
River blinked. "Dipping you? How? January there's no way. I'm not strong enough to hold you up."
He shook his head. "It doesn't have to be as deep as the one I was doing. And you don't have to do it on your own, any more than I was doing all the work when I dipped you. I'll take some weight on my bent leg, and use my core to carry some of the rest. You know you're stronger than everyone thinks." He moved them back to the starting position for the lift, which was complicated and thrilling, but just lifted them slightly off the floor and walked them around to the finishing position. Then he showed them how they would each shift into position for a dip, with them preparing to hold him as he leaned back. They didn't try the move yet, there was still a lot of work to do before they were ready for that.
"I think, once we're in the dip, you can lean down and kiss me, if you can balance okay, or we can kiss when we finish the dip, if I do this..."
____________
The wedding, as River had hoped, was fabulous. Every moment of it, from the ceremony to the ride back to Songshu, to the banquet, was infused with happiness, double happiness, in fact. And January was with them, by their side the whole time. It was everything the last four and a half years had been, the two of them working, in harmony, to make things happen. No fear, no bitter accusations, threats or secrets hanging over either of their heads.
And January, of course, was perfect: kind, attentive, loving. Walking towards him this time had not only felt like a real wedding, but like their wedding, theirs with January.
When it was time for the first dance, January led them out on the dance floor. He had chosen a lovely piece of music and choreographed a routine that, if you knew how to look, traced the evolution of their relationship from their first meeting, separation, then coming together again. Gradually, they moved from restraint to formality to a more fluid intimacy, from playing it safe to taking chances, culminating with him lifting them to his shoulders and spinning them around as they held their arms and legs gracefully bent. He returned them to the ground and they both shifted flawlessly into position for the dip. Their arms around him for support, he leaned back into a thoroughly romantic stance, one leg bent underneath him. The crowd had gasped and clapped through the lift, but now they were actually whooping their appreciation. After a moment, they both straightened back up, and turned to stand square with each other, January's hands tracing a flowing pattern like drifting leaves before settling on their shoulder and cheek. Then it seemed so natural for them to lean down, and him to lean up, and just kiss.
The crowd went wild.
Footnotes:
1. Счастье моё, "My happiness," one of a small number of Russian endearments that January uses with River, most of which are based on neuter nouns.[return to text]
2. Сердце моё, "My heart," another Russian endearment based on a neuter noun. [return to text]
3. When they saw the two of them practicing the lift, Sasha pulled January aside and asked him to try a dip, even though there was no way River was giving up that lift. He promised to try anyway. [return to text]