August 11, 2000
Rating: Mature audience only, please...
Pairings: 3+4, 1+2+5, 6+N, S+11
Warnings: Yaoi and Yuri themes. Sappy in some. Angst in other areas. Language. Pregola--pregnant g-boys!
Feedback: C&C is always welcomed and adored. Flames may be met with hexes and curses though! ^_^
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing and its characters belong to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency and are only being used for non-profit entertainment purposes. References to printed texts, films, sitcoms, musical pieces, and/or other fanfictions don't belong to me either. Sometimes they just get stuck in my brain and refuse to get out. ^_^
Notes: For time-line purposes, "Oh Baby, Baby" is approximately 8 years after "Have You Ever..." (203 AC), placing the boys at ~23-24 years of age.
This story takes our favorite boys and subjects them to the worse horrors known to men: pregnancy. The boys have traveled to the Behenna Satellite, where Quatre's sister, Fatina, is a genetic researcher with a woman who introduced herself as Hiroshima Jackson. These two women may have a procedure that will allow Quatre and Trowa to have the child they've been longing for. However, Fatina insists that the 'procedure' must be still be tested. Wufei has volunteered.
<<A darkened room with a glowing computer screen>>
"Yes, yes. This makes sense," the man murmured, studying the screen intensely. "Increase, enhance, advance... perfection!" he hissed.
There was a small tug at the man's large white lab coat. "Poppa? Poppa? Mamma asked me to bring you your tea, Poppa," a child, perhaps six or seven years old chimed cheerfully. In her hands was a simple Japanese teacup.
The man murmured something, not removing his focus on the screen before him as he relieved the child of her burden. The child waited, but when he said nothing more she turned sulkingly away, retreating to her mother's side.
"Do not be sad, small one," the soft, gentle voice of her mother had told her. Soft hands had swept back long dark strands of hair, and gentle fingers had brushed away tears. "Your father loves you, he is just very focused upon his work right now."
Work... work... work... work...
"Father, I have come to ask you to be allowed to join your research team," the young woman said smartly. Long dark hair was pulled back in a studious bun at her nape. Large, dark eyes were enhanced by dark, wire-rimmed glasses. She radiated class and intelligence.
"What for?" the man had snapped. "Why should I let a woman on my team? I already have some of the best people on Earth *and* the colonies gathered here. What need have I for you?"
"Allow me the chance to prove my worth," the woman had replied with a bow.
"Very well, very well. Do as you wish," the man had said, waving an arm in the air. "You always do any way, you spoiled child. But do not come looking for me for special favors!"
"No," she had murmured. "Of course not."
Favors... favors... favors... favors...
"We would be doing a favor to humanity!" the man had nearly shouted, his salt-and-pepper hair (more white than black now, really) brushing his shoulders.
"I don't know," his comrade returned, rubbing his chin. "If you ask me, it's like playing God."
"What right do we have to interfere with the progress of man?" the tallest amongst the five men asked.
"We have the knowledge, we have the ability! What other right do we need?" the man had returned, shifting his glasses upward.
"Enough," she had said, cutting into their debate. "I have heard enough. Heero Yuy is dead," she bit, staring each man in the face with a hard, piercing look. "You will build your fanciful machines--"
"It would take *years* to mine that amount of gundanium..." one of the middle-aged men pointed out.
"Are *you* planning on dying anytime soon?" one of his comrades spurred.
"The funding is near impossible," another man said.
"Near, but not impossible," *he* returned.
"But no one could possibly pilot them! It would mean certain death to any man!" This last protest met with no resistance. On this one little thing, they all seemed to agree on.
She turned to the old man who had interrupted her. "To pilot these machines of yours... these, gundams, as you call them," she said, licking her lips, eyes never wavering from the man's face. "The pilot would need what?"
"Nani?" asked the tall man with the messy hair.
"Yes, what?" she turned to face all of them. "What are the requirements to pilot these 'gundams' of yours?"
The five middle-aged men swallowed and looked at each other.
"Strength," one finally replied.
"Small body frame to fit in the cockpit," chimed another.
"Dexterity, coordination."
"Speed, endurance."
"Intelligence, ability to response effectively to multi-stimuli."
"Tolerance for G-forces."
She listened as they rambled out their 'list of demands'. Finally, she spoke again. "So, what you would need... is the perfect human?"
Her black eyes met the black eyes of the 'leader'. He stiffened.
"No, not perfect," the funny-one with the weird nose and hairstyle had tried to correct her. "Just an advanced one. Humankind is not ready for perfection."
"Perfection is imperfection in itself," the tall, bald one had said.
"Yes, yes," agreed the short stumpy one with the beady eyes.
She didn't care what they said. Her eyes held those of the man before her. She wouldn't back down. She wouldn't. She would still prove herself...
"It cannot be done," he said finally, turning his back on her and making to leave.
"I *will* do it," she said loudly enough for him to hear. He stopped at the door and turned back towards her.
"You do that, Hiroshima," he returned. "You always did what you wanted to anyway." He turned back towards the exit, his words floating over his shoulder. "Gentlemen, it looks like we have some mobile suits to create."
"We should split up," the mushroom-man said as he began to follow the other out. "Before the Alliance seizes complete control of all the colonies."
"Yes," agreed the second tallest man--the one with the messy hair and puffy cheeks.
"It would seem we have quite the work cut out for us," the short one said, pulling at his wiry mustache. "This would require massive funding, not to mention support from the colonies."
"We shall build them, then," baldy said quietly. "But we should be careful." He turned at the door, the last one to leave, and looked at her. "And you should be careful too."
The door slid shut behind him, bathing the room in complete darkness.
"I'll make you your damn perfect human, Father," she said hoarsely. "I will do what you failed to do."
Hiroshima Jackson snapped awake without warning. Within her chest, her heart was pounding. One hand drifted to her face, smearing the sweat back from her forehead as she fingered back her loose black hair. She was panting, reeling from the dream... from the memories.
"It's over," she whispered hoarsely. "It's over. You're dead. You can't haunt me any longer. Do you hear me? It's over. I gave you want you wanted. Now just leave me alone!"
The middle-aged woman fell back to the bed with a heavy sob.
The door slid open and the dark woman whirled, biting her tongue when she saw that the blonde was alone. "Where are the others?" she asked, calm appearance back in place. She took a sip from the simple teacup.
"They left this morning," Fatina answered, taking a seat on the small sofa in the room, sitting sideways so she could look over the back to the small table that served as both a dinette and a computer desk. Hiro didn't bother to give her another glance as the dark-haired woman returned her focus to the computer screen before her.
"Quatre said something about there being some business they had to take care of on some of the other colonies while they were up here in space," Fatina continued, pretending as if the other woman actually cared.
"Then they will be returning?" Hiro asked, her fingers flying over the keyboard without looking as her eyes bore into the screen.
"Yes, in a couple of days," the blonde replied sipping from her coffee mug.
"Good, good," the dark haired woman murmured. "Then it is not too late... I can improve..."
"Hiroshima! Will you listen to yourself?" Fatina nearly shouted as she set the coffee mug down rather forcefully and turned around on the sofa. "You sound as crazy as that man you called father! Don't you thin--"
Whatever she might have said was suddenly cut off with a gasp of shock. Wide blue eyes stared at the other woman, a hand pressed to her pulsing cheek. Hiro flexed her hand and then returned to her precious computer. "If you don't mind, Tina, I have work I have to do. I want to have these genes filed away for later reference."
"Dammit, Hiro," Fatina choked. "Just what are you trying to accomplish? Isn't it enough yet? Haven't we already done enough yet?"
"You are weak, Fatina," the dark haired woman said softly. "Have you taken your medicine today? You don't look well." Hiroshima stood, and walked towards the kitchenette. Opening a cupboard, she pulled out a pill bottle. "Here, take these," she coaxed, handing the blonde two oblong-shaped yellow pills.
The blonde took them, snapping her head back as she swallowed them without water. Hiroshima sat down on the sofa beside her, pushing strands of blonde hair behind one ear. "There now," she whispered sweetly. "You know you're not well, Tina." She picked up one small hand and brought it to her lips. "You must remember to take your medicine."
The blonde sighed, leaning into the taller woman. "I hate you," she whispered. "I hate you, I hate you, I ha--"
"I know," Hiroshima said softly, leaning the unconscious woman back against the couch. "But I need you as much as you need me. And until I finish what was started, neither one of us is going anywhere."
"This is cargo ship Zero-Two-Niner requesting permission to dock."
"Roger that, Zero-Two-Niner," a static voice returned. "We have docking bay A-3 ready and waiting."
"Copy that. Zero-Two-Niner, out."
Sally flipped the switch to the com and leaned back in the pilot's chair as the cargo shuttle went into auto-dock mode.
"Well, that was easy," Noin said from beside her.
"You were expecting it to be hard?" Sally shot her a grin.
"I guess maybe I was, yes," the dark-haired woman noted, closing her eyes and focusing, instead, on her 'feelings'. "For people with something to hide... they seem awfully trusting."
"Let's hope there's really nothing there to be hidden."
One indigo eye peeked open. "I thought that's why we are here."
Sally twisted one curl, smoothing the curly-cue. "Hope for the best," she said.
"Expect the worse," the other answered.
They disembarked from the cargo ship to survey the extraction of supplies they had brought. Or, at least that's what they told anyone who asked. Luckily, only one person asked.
"So... what now?" Noin asked as she leaned back against a large wooden crate, arms crossed, indigo eyes half-hooded as she watched everything around her.
"Now, we wait for our person inside to contact us," Sally answered, one hand on her waist as she faced Noin, thus keeping an eye on Noin's back.
"Ah... and do you know what this person looks like?" Noin's eyes focused on a tall, willowy-looking woman, medium brown hair with red highlights trailing through the braid that hung down her back. Hazel eyes eyed first her and then Sally. Something flared in those eyes. The woman smiled and began walking towards them.
"We'll know her when--"
"Sally?" the woman called from behind her.
The sandy blonde turned, her duo curly-cues bouncing over her shoulders. "Doce," she returned, her arms opened wide. The other woman wrapped Sally in an embrace.
"Ah, Sally McKoger, I *thought* that was you," the brown-haired, braided woman was saying. She tweaked one curl and cocked an eyebrow. "Don't you think it's time for a change of hairstyles, dear?"
Sally just laughed and pulled back. "Why mess with something that works, eh?"
Doce laughed and tossed her braid over one shoulder. "Why indeed." Her hazel eyes swept over the dark-haired woman leaning against the crate. "And who's your friend, dear?"
Sally beamed a smile as she turned towards Noin. "Doctor Doce Behr, allow me to introduce you to Lu. Lu, this is Doc--"
"Behr?" Noin asked, looking from one woman to the other. Both were smiling.
"Yes," Doce Behr answered with a knowing grin. "My father was Trenton Behr, head of Behr Enterprises Inc."
"I believe you know some of her sisters," Sally said, a *look* in those warm and friendly eyes. "Jack? Kat? Nita?"
Noin smiled. "Yes, I think I do." She turned to the newcomer. "It is a pleasure to meet you, D. Behr," she said, holding out her hand.
"'Doc' is fine, Lu," Doce Behr replied, shaking Noin's hand. "And the pleasure is mutual." She turned to Sally, all conversational-like. "So, what brings you out to the Behenna Satellite, Sal?"
Sally waved her hand towards the shuttle. "Delivering some supplies."
"You're kidding." The good doctor's hazel eyes were wide with what could easily be described as amazement. Sally shot her a wolfish smile.
"Not at all," she replied. "Besides, I was hoping to get the chance to meet some old friends."
Doc shook her head, her dark braid bouncing back over one shoulder. "Funny you should say that. We just had visitors leave this morning."
"Visitors?" Noin asked, turning more towards the woman.
"Si." Doc smiled. "Actually, the owner of the satellite, Senor Winner, and some friends of his--" A look passed between the two visiting women. "I believe they will be returning within a couple of days."
"I see," Sally said.
"No." A look flashed in those hazel depths as Doc stared at Sally. And then the seriousness melted away without a trace as she beamed a smile at them. "Perhaps you and your friend would like a tour of the satellite?"
"Is that allowed?" Noin asked, frowning. The brown-haired woman continued to smile at her.
"Not normally, but I think I can bend the rules a little for an old friend of mine, ne?" She smiled and began ushering them to the hanger doors.
Noin shot Sally one more look. Sally smiled and nodded and then turned to follow the older woman. Noin nodded and then followed.
********** End of "Oh Baby, Baby" Part Seven **********
Andrea Readwolf
Please send comments to: andrea_readwolf@hotmail.com