August 19, 2000
Hello all! Because I was stranded from the internet, I decided to combine some parts. Why? I'm not really sure. The result? You get a 3-in-1 post. Enjoy it!
~Andrea Readwolf
Rating: Mature audience only, please...
Archive: This story and ones associated have been given permission to be archived at P-Chan's site. All others, please ask first.
Pairings: 4x2, 1x5, 3x5, 6+9, S+11
Warnings: Yaoi LEMON ahead. Sappy in some. Angst in other areas. Language. Pregola--pregnant g-boys! Major confusion! Out of control characters... I think that pretty much covers it! ^_^;;
Feedback: C&C is always welcomed and adored.
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.
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.
Wufei has volunteered to become pregnant with the help of Quatre's sister, Fatina and Hiroshima Jackson. Doce Behr told Sally and Noin that the boys were being lied to about the nature of the going-ons at the Behenna Satellite.
A Special Thank You to Laekin, who once told me she wouldn't do a 2x4/4x2 because the two were too much like brothers--DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD THIS NEXT SCENE WAS TO WRITE BECAUSE I *COULDN'T* GET THAT IDEA OUT OF MY MIND!! [pouts]
"Quatre, welcome back," Fatina said fondly as she embraced her brother.
"Greetings, Fatina," the blond man recovered quickly--the shock on his face melting into a charming smile.
"Wufei, Duo, Heero," the blonde woman said pleasantly, smiling at the three men. "We have been awaiting your return eagerly. Please, come this way."
She turned and began leading them down a separate hallway.
"I don't think your sister likes me," Trowa whispered against Quatre's ear as they fell in behind the small blonde.
"Don't be silly," his love returned.
"Hey, is it just me, or does she seem... different?" Duo whispered, frowning.
"Hn."
"Yes, she does," Wufei replied, looking over to Quatre--who was also frowning.
"I've got a bad feeling about this," Heero growled.
"Nah, that's just indigestion from the Mexican tamale!" Duo wrapped his arm around Heero's waist and poked him in the stomach, producing another growl.
"Here's where you will be staying this time," Fatina said, stopping in front of a door and smiling brightly at them. "Please, come in."
"Okay, that's it. Your sister is *definitely* acting weird!" Duo shot a look to Quatre. The blond young man shrugged.
"I don't know. Maybe she's just being pleasant because we're helping her research," he suggested, though his voice didn't sound too reassuring--even to his own ears.
"I don't like this," Heero said lowly. Duo leaned up and placed a kiss on the Japanese man's lips.
"Hush, the show's about to begin."
The 'show' wasn't much of a show. Hiroshima came, greeted them, handed Wufei, Duo, and Heero a plastic thermos-like container each, told them to have fun, and then dashed out, taking Fatina with her.
Leaving the five young men standing in the center of a common area of what appeared to be a single-family apartment, stunned.
"Um, does she want us to fill this whole thing?" Duo asked, eyeing the cup. Four faces shaded red.
Quatre coughed. "Do you... would you... like for me and Trowa, to, ah... go..." He pointed off to one of the three doors.
"No, no," Duo rushed. "I mean, you don't... have to, ah..." He looked over to Heero and Wufei. Both men were still in a stunned state. "Shoot. What does she expect of us? That we're just going to fall into--to.. to just go at it on command?"
He plopped onto the sofa, staring up at first his two life mates and then his two close friends. "Is anyone else *not* in the mood?"
"Hai."
One question. Four unanimous replies. Duo smiled and nodded. "Cool. Anyone up for a pizza and a movie?"
That managed to snap the two men out of their state of shock.
"Die Hard?"
"Veggie-lover's delight?"
Duo smiled. "Is there anything else?" He looked over to Quatre and Trowa.
The two looked at each other, smiled and shrugged--the art of silent communication at work.
"I'll go see about ordering the movies," Quatre said.
"I'll order the pizzas," Trowa chimed, following Quatre into what looked like the kitchen.
Leaving Heero, Wufei, Duo, and three plastic cups in the common area.
"You know, it's not that bad," Duo said, turning his cup around. "I mean, we shouldn't have any problem what-so-ever filling these things."
Two cups went sailing through the air, aimed for his head. Quick reflexes were all that saved him as he ducked and grinned at his lovers.
"It's gonna be okay, you know that, right?" he asked, eyeing the both of them.
Heero and Wufei looked at one another and then looked at Duo. "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger," Heero said, the other two's eyes flying to him.
"I have no intention of dying," Wufei replied staunchly. His onyx eyes flittered back and forth between Heero and Duo. "But--" he swallowed.
"It's going to be weird," Duo said when Wufei didn't continue. "Isn't it?"
"We're going to be pregnant," Heero said. "I can't think of anything weirder than that."
Duo's eyes lit with amusement--Heero and Wufei almost physically cringed. "Not even Zechs Marquise in a tutu?"
Duo wasn't sure who threw the first pillow, but when Quatre and Trowa reentered the room, the three were in the middle of an intense pillow fight.
Six hours, four pizzas, three movies, and one bowl of popcorn later found the five young men curled up contentedly on the sofa in a tangle of arms, legs, and torsos.
Heero was at one end, his back pressed into the corner; one arm rested comfortably atop the sofa, the other wrapped lazily around Wufei's waist. Wufei was leaning up against Heero's chest, settled between his legs; one hand was playing absently with the jean fabric covering Heero's thighs, the other tracing invisible patterns under Duo's loose undershirt. Duo, for his part was resting between Wufei's legs, eyes glued to the vid screen.
Trowa was leaning back against the other end of the sofa, cradling Quatre much in the same fashion as Heero held Wufei. Quatre for his part was also fixed to the vid screen, his feet barreled somewhere behind Duo in a manner that, whenever he moved, he jostled Wufei. And he moved. A lot.
"You know, this movie is an absolute classic," Duo sighed as he reached out for the popcorn bowl that Quatre was hoarding.
"It's old enough to be." Quatre frowned when he suddenly found himself minus one popcorn bowl.
Duo made a face and threw a kernel at the blond.
It was a chain reaction.
Quatre squirmed to avoided the missile--effectively kicking Wufei. Wufei--who wasn't really expecting to be kicked--jumped, ramming--rather painfully--into Heero and unsettling Duo--who, in his surprise, accidentally sent the remaining popcorn air-born.
The majority of which had the good--or bad--luck to land in the unruly masses of Heero's dark hair. Heero--who was already recovering from Wufei's sudden jerking in a very sensitive area--stared in shock as popcorn snowed down around him.
Quatre was first to make a sound--a muffled little giggle. The giggle quickly swelled into all out laughter until the blond found himself on the floor with Duo. Duo looked around, saw Heero--scowl on his face, those cobalt-blues trying out their best 'glare of death' yet, those unruly bangs...sprinkled with popcorn--and promptly shared Quatre's mirth.
Wufei shifted around to see what was so funny--and smiled. "Sporting a new look?" he asked, reaching out to pull a piece of buttery popcorn free. He popped it in his mouth. "Looks good on you."
Heero gave a throaty 'hn' sound and looked away. Wufei's hands sinking deep into his hair brought his attention back. Wufei ran his hands through that dark mane several times, freeing the popcorn.
He leaned in closer, his lips brushing Heero's cheek. "You look good enough to eat..."
"Hn." Heero's hands went into action, slipping around that slim waist and pulling the Chinese man closer. He was in perfect position to lay attack on that slender throat with his lips and teeth.
Wufei groaned, arching closer to him, his onyx eyes shutting out the world around him so he could concentrate solely on the man in his arms. His hands--already lost in Heero's thick hair, held the Japanese man to him, giving, taking.
They squirmed and shifted, until they were in a more comfortable position--Wufei, sitting on Heero's lap, straddling his waist. Tiny noises escaped Wufei's lips as hot lips burned across his throat and then over his shoulder--nuzzling aside the forest green cloth of Wufei's shirt to suckling bare skin. Heero's hands skimmed the smooth skin of his back beneath the loose shirt before grazing lower over that tight backside, squeezing, kneading.
Wufei's head fell back with a tiny cry, his hips rocking forward under Heero's skilled touch, his hardening erection thrusting against Heero's own erection. Heero took the opportunity to not only trail his lips over Wufei's collarbone but also to shift his hips forward, allowing the bulge in his jeans to rub deliciously against Wufei's. He felt Wufei's hands on his shoulders, kneading the tense muscles there.
The screams and cries rising from the floor tore Trowa's eyes away from the scene unfolding beside him to the one taking place on the floor at his feet: Duo and Quatre, in the middle of a tickle war. He smiled. Duo was losing. Badly.
He knew where that would end. He looked back at the two making-out beside him. He knew where *that* was going too.
What was that old saying? 'Can't beat 'em, join 'em'?
Trowa pushed away from his side of the couch until he was an inch or two away from Wufei and Heero. Large, gentle hands touched those delicate-looking shoulders, brushing, circling--a questioning touch.
Large onyx eyes blinked open before fluttering shut once more. Wufei leaned back a fraction of an inch--an invitation. Heero looked up questioningly. Cobalt eyes met emerald orbs. He growled, leaning forward to seize the other man's lips--effectively crushing Wufei's smaller body between his and Trowa's. Not that Wufei was in a state of mind to complain.
Two hands that had previously been giving undivided attention to Wufei's tight rear slipped away, reaching for Trowa, pulling the other man closer, fitting the other's body fully against Wufei's back. It was a movement Wufei obviously enjoyed and was comfortable with since the Chinese man purred and wiggled between the two bodies, fitting himself even snugger.
Trowa moaned against Heero's lips. Heero took the advantage and pressed deeper, his tongue sweeping in, controlling, demanding. Trowa gave freely, returning, relenting before the onslaught. The hands on his back, pressed, guided, soothed, encouraged, molded Trowa's body into a rhythm the other two were more than familiar with.
He was panting, flat on his back, staring up into those marine blue eyes, a secret thrill racing through his veins. His arms were wrenched over his head, the grip not painful, but strong enough to hold him there. He licked his lips and repeated, "I yield," breathlessly.
"Good," the other man replied, equally as breathless. He shot a quick look over his shoulder, smiled, and looked back into those violet eyes. Before the other could look to see what he was smiling at, the blond leaned forward and seized those flushed lips.
If he had felt a thrill before, he was now experiencing raw fire rushing through his entire body. He'd already been semi-aroused--a tickle fight had a habit of doing that to him. Now he was painfully hard, and he didn't mind the other knowing it. He thrust his hips up, ramming against the blond, feeling the answering hardness rub against him.
Quatre moaned, shifting his hips back and forth, rubbing his already hard arousal against Duo's. His hands released their hold on the braided-man's wrists and slid down the insides of those long arms, brushing delicate areas--ticklish areas--with the caress of a lover. They slid lower, to the hem of Duo's shirt, pulling at it, slipping it up and off--breaking the kiss only long enough to slip the shirt over his head.
It was too much to assume that Duo would be a passive lover--it just wasn't in his nature. The minute the fact that his hands were free registered, they went to work. First sinking into those golden blond waves, then fanning out, lower, kneading Quatre's back. He shifted beneath the other man, and Quatre slid between Duo's legs.
Both men groaned.
Duo tried to roll over, but Quatre wouldn't let him. He broke the kiss with a 'hmphf'. Quatre's lips trailed down to one ear, gently nipping the lobe.
"Uh uh," he whispered hoarsely, his warm breath sliding over the sensitive spot behind Duo's ears--causing a shiver to run down the braided-man's body. "I won, I get to be on top this time..."
A pouty-moan was his only answer. The moans from the other three men blended with Duo's, adding to Quatre's arousal. Lips skimming lower found one dusky-colored nipple and began nibbling and suckling. Teeth and tongue showered attention upon the tiny nubile flesh until Duo was writhing beneath him.
He trailed his tongue across Duo's chest, tasting Duo's tangy-ness before seizing the neglected nubbin, and sucking hard. His hands slipped from Duo's chest to waist, to hips. One hand curved around and under to begin molding that tempting backside; the other slipped down over Duo's leg, squeezing, grabbing, pulling it up, over his back. Duo's other leg followed voluntarily, and the two locked against Quatre's back, squeezing the blond closer, holding him tight.
Duo cried out, his back arching up into Quatre's greedy mouth, his hips grinding against Quatre's. His hands reached for the hem of Quatre's shirt and began pulling at the smooth pale green cloth. Quatre squirmed, assisting him in removing the dress shirt until Quatre's torso was bare to Duo's touch.
Duo was gasping, demanding more with every touch. "Is it... hot in here... or is it," he swallowed a moan, ineffectively. "Just me!" he cried, arching as Quatre's sneaky hand began stroking his balls through the coarse denim fabric of his black jeans.
A swoosh of air swept over him, ending in his world going black, the scent of mandarin orange and spice surrounding him. A hand detached from Quatre's back to pull the cloth from his face. He stared in momentary shock at dark green tank. Blinking he looked around Quatre and tried to focus on the writhing body on the couch. No, *three* writhing bodies, he realized.
Wufei was sandwiched between Heero and Trowa, now shirtless as the other two's lips and hands roamed over that olive skin. Wufei's hands were grasping Heero's shoulders for what little support they could offer him. His shoulders were being supported by Trowa's chest.
'Damn, they made a sexy sight...' he thought before gasping again.
Quatre's wiggling had succeeded in releasing Duo's leg-lock and now the blond's lips were grazing over his stomach as his hands went to work unfastening Duo's belt and jeans.
The red blinking light was insistent. She felt the pull even from the other room. She *knew* it was there... She sat up from her last set of stomach crunches, grabbing the hand towel she'd tossed aside earlier. Pushing sweaty black strands away from her face, she exited the bedroom and strode over to the computer in the common area.
Sure enough. An incoming message.
She sighed and turned the vid-screen on. The face that popped up would have made many cringe--but not her. It was a face she had been familiar with since she was a little girl.
"And to what do I owe the torment of *this* call?" she asked sourly, continuing to wipe the sweat from her body.
"Well, hello to you, too, 'Shima," the old man said.
Dark eyes narrowed into a deadly glare. "Why do you insist on calling me that?"
The old man smiled. "Because it suits you so well, dear. Now, how have you been?" he asked pleasantly.
"Can the chit-chat." She tossed the towel over the back of the sofa. "What do you want?"
"Can't a man be concerned about his god-daughter?"
"No."
Beady eyes narrowed as the old man frowned. "Really, Hiroshima Jackson. If your sweet mother could see you now--"
Her dark brown hair still fell into her Prussian-blue eyes--despite hours spent trying to style the unruly mass. The effect only added to her attractiveness, however. It was commented that she was one of the most attractive women there that evening. Her navy-blue slack suit was a tailored-fit and she looked *great* in it. She smiled and shook hands with all the bigwigs from Earth and the Colonies.
Her smile was more genuine then most. It had been a good meeting, and while they hadn't gotten a whole lot done that day, they had made great progress--and there was always tomorrow. Her eyes fell upon someone across the room and lit with a special light of affection. Excusing herself from her present company she waded through the sea of people until she was at his side.
"Heero, you were wonderful!" she beamed, smiling adoringly up at the man who towered over her.
He turned, brushing brown-black bangs from his face, smiling. "Aunt Trinity, thank you." He embraced the woman fondly. "You didn't do so bad yourself." He pulled back and looked around. "But, where's 'Shima?"
"Oh, she's around her somewhere," the woman replied waving a hand in the air, the smile on her face never wavering. "Probably cornering some poor unexpected ambassador, trying to convince the fool to fund some project or another of hers."
The two people shared a laugh.
"That girl is too much like her father, I fear," the woman continued.
"Ah, and how is my uncle these days? Has he solved the problems of the universe yet?" His dark eyes twinkled, as did the woman's, in a shared amusement.
"No, not yet," she replied. "But he's convinced that, given a 'little more time' he'll have the secret to the 'perfect human'!" She said each word with dramatic emphasis. She shook her dark head slightly, continuing to smile. "Ah, Heero, I tell you, I love your uncle dearly, but I married a fool. A genius, but a fool."
"Mother! Mother, guess what?" An excited, twenty-something Hiroshima was approaching the couple quickly.
And then everything seemed to stop and rush forward at the same time.
There was a shout, a cry. Her cousin, stumbled back, his eyes wide with surprise and pain. Her mother rushed forward, screaming. Another report sheered through the room--deafening to Hiro's ears.
Trinity Jackson stumbled before she reached her already fallen nephew. Her dark blue eyes were wide with disbelief as she turned to stare at her stunned daughter. The front of her navy-blue business suit was darkening black at an alarming rate.
The mother took one step towards her daughter before crumbling to the ground at the young woman's feet.
"My mother's dead," she cut him off, no emotion registering on her hard face.
The old man sighed. "Yes, yes, she is. Samuel never really recovered from the shock of losing her, you know that right?"
"Should I care?"
The old man frowned, his beady eyes trying to communicate sadness, but it was lost on the woman. "He loved you, too, Hiroshima. He was always very proud of you and your achievements. He used to brag terribly about you."
If possible, the dark woman's face grew colder, deadlier. "My father didn't give a rat's ass about me," she said deadly. "At least not until I presented him with the opportunity to exact revenge against the Alliance."
The old man shook his head. "No, that's not true, 'Shima," he told her. "Even his last words were of you and Heero... he wanted you both to be happy, did you know that?"
"You've told me often enough," she bit out.
"And he made me promise him that I'd watch over you both and make sure that you were happy." He studied her in silence for a moment. "So?"
"So what?"
The old man sighed exasperatedly. "*So* are you happy or not, dammit! I know the boy is. He's with that imp, though how he could put up with that cocky kid--"
"He's with another, too."
Those beady little eyes went wide--if that's possible. "What?"
Hiroshima smiled "Yes." She leaned back in the chair, looking pleased for having one up on the other. "Oh, all the boys are obviously very close to each other. It's actually kinda sweet to see, considering all a--"
"Hmm... 03 and 04 are out of the question--"
"Why?" she asked amused.
He shot her an unamused look. "Oh, *please*... that was so obvious even during the war. That leaves 05, though..." those beady eyes narrowed. "Though what anyone would want with that justice-loving freak is beyon--"
"Hey! Watch it," she growled.
"Are we becoming protective of our mistakes, dear?" Now *he* was the amused one.
"I don't think it was a mistake," she said thoughtfully. "There were just... unforeseen results." She sighed, wearily. "I should probably try to reverse any--"
"Hey, now. We all agreed not to meddle anymore in those boys' lives, Hiroshima."
She smiled with mock sweetness. "Oh? Did we? Funny, I don't seem to remember agreeing to that..."
Those beady eyes narrowed on her. "You're as obstinate as your father!"
She smiled for the first time. "Why, thank you, Garret. I do think that's one of the nicest things you've ever said to me."
"Dammit! 'Shima!" Something drew the old man's attention away from the screen. "Yes, yes, hold you're damn horses. I'll be there in a minute. Good gods!" she heard him say before he turned back to her. "Listen, I've got to get back to work. Will you call me?"
"No."
He sighed. "I really shouldn't be surprised. Just like your father," he mumbled. "Fine, fine. I'll talk to you later. Take care of yourself, dear."
She waited a moment after the screen went black--staring at the darkened screen. She could still the domed outline of the mushroom-like head and the sharp angle of where the old man's nose jutted out. She leaned forward and cut the link.
Wufei gasped, moaning. His arms reached up and wrapped around Trowa's neck, burrowing into the soft auburn hair. The other answered by murmuring nothings as his lips and teeth left tiny bruises over the Chinese man's throat, neck, and shoulders. His large hands moved in tiny circles over Wufei's thighs, each circle pulling the other closer to him with gentle force.
Wufei let himself be pulled back, Trowa's hard chest pressing, burning against his bare back. He felt the bulge in Trowa's jeans rubbing against his backside, exciting him more. A tongue dipped into his bellybutton. He tried to arch towards the delicious, dipping tongue, but Trowa's hands held him firm. He was sure a whimper escaped his lips.
The silky, unruly hair teased over his stomach as Heero pressed farther. The Japanese man's chest added delicious pressure to that needy area between his legs. Between Trowa's pulling and Heero's pushing, Wufei found himself reclining back onto the sofa. Cool air rushed past his hips and thighs and it took him only a moment to realize Trowa was helping Heero remove his loose white pants, leaving the Chinese man completely naked on the sofa.
The sofa shifted as Trowa left them. Wufei was caught in a mindless haze, Heero's touch sliding over his erection. His hips arched forward, but the Japanese man must have expected that. One arm thrown over his waist held him fast to the sofa.
Heero nuzzled the hot silk, brushing it against his cheek and chin and throat and lips. At his sides, Wufei's hand fisted against the sofa as he struggled for control--he should have known better. Heero began to nibble at his creamy tip and Wufei's hips tried to move again. A hand slid against his balls and began to gently squeeze and roll them.
Wufei threw his head back in a silent cry. Heero's tongue went to work, completely laving his entire length. A hot, moist sucking soon followed.
The sofa dipped under new weight... and then shivers raced through Wufei's body as Heero moaned, the vibrations completely encasing him in delicious torture.
Trowa had carefully undressed, monitoring both couples. Quatre and Duo were on the floor a few feet away. And, as he had surmised, Quatre was on top... and driving Duo crazy by the looks of it--a tempting sight, especially with his little blond in control. On the sofa, Heero was providing the same treatment to Wufei.
And, at the moment, Heero was entirely over-dressed.
Easily rectified.
Heero had pressed Wufei back against the sofa and now moved over the Chinese man--one arm thrown over his waist, the other somewhere beneath him, his head buried in Wufei's lap. Sexy as hell.
Trowa moved without having to think about it, circling around, climbing onto the sofa behind the Japanese man, one arm slipping around that clothed torso, caressing the muscled chest through the royal blue shirt, the other slipping lower, completely covering the hard bulge pressing against the faded denim. Heero moaned. Trowa smiled, brushing his bangs over the back of the other's neck.
One hand began to unbutton Heero's shirt as the other continued its administrations to Heero's lower regions--alternating pressure, stroking, squeezing, brushing until Heero's hips were moving against his hand in a demand for more. Trowa tugged at the jacket-shirt, pulling it free from Heero's tight jeans. One hand sneaked under the white undershirt, sliding against Heero's skin in searching touches.
Heero released his hold on Wufei, pulling back, his head resting on Wufei's hip, gasping. "Dammit Trowa," he growled.
A hot tongue danced over Heero's neck. "You're overdressed," Trowa replied, increasing the pressure of his caresses.
Heero's shoulders shifted, the royal blue jacket-shirt sliding from both, falling down his back. Trowa sat back, pulling the shirt completely off. His hands reached for Heero's waist, seizing the undershirt and ripping it up before Heero could return to his previous activities.
Trowa was sure he heard a muffled 'hn' before Wufei cried out again. He smiled, leaning back over the Japanese man, his lips and tongue tracing invisible patterns over the bare bronze back before him. Heero's body shifted beneath him and it was Trowa's turn to muffle a moan as that tight backside pressed against his pelvis. Trowa nipped the tangy skin in retribution.
Deftly, he unfastened the jeans and his hand slipped between denim and skin to cup Heero properly. The Japanese man growled, moving his hips against him again. The groan brushed past his lips before he was aware of it. In seconds he was reaching for the waist of Heero's jeans to send them in the direction of his shirts.
She alternated her attention from the computer to her left, to the microscope on her right, to the large vid-screen in front. She pushed the blue-rim glasses up and looked into the microscope.
"Computer, play record 176.3.28.1525."
The vid-screen bloomed to life, displaying a younger Hiroshima Jackson dressed in a navy-blue suit and starched-white lab coat, blue-rimmed glasses framing her dark eyes, long black hair pulled back in a hap-haphazard bun.
"Using the pilot specifications provided by my father and the other scientists, I have begun to locate and isolate the specific genes associated with each attribute. This is proving more difficult than I had originally expected." The woman turned away from the camera and schematics began scrolling across the vid-screen. Her monologue, however, continued.
"Although almost all of the human DNA strands have been coded, specific genes are still hard to isolate. However, I believe I have successfully located three. We will begin testing next month."
A computerized voice came on. "Would you like to proceed to the next record, Dr. Jackson?"
"Yes," she answered, exchanging one slide for another beneath the microscope.
"Record 176.4.16.0318," the computer announced.
"The resources to build the machines will not be ready for at lest another five years. The Alliance is starting to block trade between the colonies. If they succeed, Garret thinks the mobile suits won't be completed until near the turn of the century. I don't like the idea of waiting 20 years to repay the Federation for their mistakes. Unfortunately, I may not have a choice. I have decided to move my research facility to L4. Professor Hilel is in that area taking refuge with the Winner family. Perhaps I may be able to convince someone at Winner Enterprises to help fund my research. I already have support from Dekim Barton's trusts. The head of the Winner family was a friend of Heero's. I can't help but hope he too wants to seek revenge for my cousin's death."
"Computer, skip the next ten records."
"Acknowledged," the computer announced. Five seconds later, "Record 176.6.11.1941."
"We administered the first serum to Fatina Winner today," the woman on the vid-screen said wearily. "After the initial shock to her system..." The woman sighed. "Fatina is currently resting in her quarters. I will be keeping constant watch over her to monitor any side effects. If all proceeds as planned, we should be able to note a minute difference within the next week. If not, we shall wait one month. If nothing happens in that time we will reapply the serum.
"We were able to obtain another volunteer. A young woman by the name of Katrina, age 16. I am preparing to administer serum-number-three-five-seven tomorrow.
"I am still looking for more volunteers for the other serums. If need be, I will use myself.
"Also, while the other specifications have been found, one remains elusive. I have yet to figure out the answer to the problem presented by extreme gravitational force. This may be beyond my abilities and left to the level of training of the pilot. I haven't--"
"Computer, stop playback." The vid-screen froze. Hiroshima looked up from the microscope. "Computer, display blood samples 01-05." The scene on the vid-screen switched from a young Hiroshima in a laboratory to five slide-shots with stats listed below each.
Hiro rocked back in her chair. "Computer, display genetic schematics in relation to serums 001-010." The vid zoomed in on each of the five slides until five DNA strands were highlighted. Ten colored DNA strands slid across the screen, overlapping the first five.
She chewed on her thumb as she studied the screen before her. "Thirty years of research," she murmured. She was silent, lost in her thoughts.
Finally, she nodded and stood. "Computer, save files and shut down," she said, moving to dismantle the microscope. She didn't hear the door close behind her.
Duo cried out into Quatre's waiting mouth, his back arching as pain and pleasure ripped through his body. Lips gently nibbled his, coaxing him away from the pain. Duo groaned, answering those nibbling lips with his own, his hands moving over that golden stretch of back, trailing down low over one creamy globe, and pulling.
Quatre returned with a groan of his own falling into Duo's eager mouth, his hips shifting, burying himself deeper inside Duo gratefully. They lasted only a few more minutes in that fashion before they tore their lips away, panting, eyes shut tight as all concentration centered on the pleasure wrought by the act of love.
He came with a choked cry. Duo was right behind him, his milky seed spurting heat, coating their bellies. Quatre's arms buckled and their bodies smacked together. Duo groaned, still panting.
"That's it," he managed to gasp. "Next time *I'm* on top."
Quatre groaned a slid off of the braided man, curling up beside him. "That goes against the rules," he murmured, snuggling closer to the sweaty man.
"Well, I don't like the rules," Duo grumbled, brushing sweaty blond bangs from those dazed-but-smiling marine eyes.
Quatre smiled and kissed his shoulder. "*You* made the rules," he reminded softly, his eyes drifting shut.
Duo pouted. "Well then, it's time to cha--Oh shoot!"
Wide-awake now, Quatre sat up, eyes wide. "What?"
"We forgot the darn cups," Duo grumbled.
Confusion flared in those marine-blue eyes for a moment before comprehension dawned. "Oh, oh! Um," he looked up over to the table where the three cups were waiting patiently. "Um, should we catch Heero and Wufei before they--"
Three strangled cries rose up from the direction of the sofa. Quatre cringed but forced himself to turn and look. Sure enough, two bodies were slumping forward onto an already reclining Wufei. Quatre sighed and turned back to Duo, frowning when he saw the other's manic smile in place.
"Oh well," the braided man said, falling back onto the carpet. "There's always the rest of tonight... not to mention tomorrow morning!"
Quatre almost laughed. Almost. But then he realized how tired he was and fell back down beside the other, drifting off to sleep.
"Please tell me you're not seriously going to go through with this?" she asked, arms crossed under her small chest.
"Of course I am," the other woman replied, not bothering to look at the blonde as she looked through her microscope. "I've already compounded the serum and prepared the tri-estrogen shot."
Teal eyes flared. "This is crazy, Hiro! What if something goes wrong again?"
Cold black eyes turned away from the lens to freeze the small blonde woman. "We've had ten years to fix those wrongs, Tina. Nothing will go wrong."
A frightened, pained look flitted across that pale face before Fatina schooled her statement. "Of course. You're right." She looked away, weighing her next words carefully.
"Hiro? Don't you find it odd that those five boys are the only ones who--who--"
"All the more reason to press forward with this experiment, Tina!" A motherly statement warmed the older woman's features. "It will be alright, I promise. They made it through the first time; they'll surely make it through this test, too."
Behind them, the doors slid open.
"I hope you're right," Fatina murmured, still looking worried.
"I'm sorry, are we interrupting something?" Quatre asked politely.
Fatina whirled around, smiling falsely. "Not at all!"
"Of course not," Hiroshima agreed, also smiling. "So, are you boys ready to get pregnant?"
"No--omphf!"
"Yep! We sure are!" Duo replied eagerly, moving quickly away from Heero before the other could catch him.
Hiroshima eyed first Heero, who had been first to reply, then Duo, and then Heero again. "I thought you had him sold on the idea?" she asked, somewhat amused at the young man's resistance.
"Oh, he's agreed," Quatre answered, smiling. "He just doesn't like it."
"Ah," the dark-haired woman replied, still smiling. "Well, just look at it as another mission to fulfill," she said turning away from the five men. "Chang Wufei," she continued, walking over to a nearby table. "I trust you completed all those boring, legalities Fatina gave you?"
"Yes, ma'am," the man in question replied, stepping smoothly between a grinning Duo and a glaring Heero.
"Good, good. Here, I need to inject these hormones into your system, otherwise your body will reject the zygote." She turned around, syringe in hand.
Beside him, Duo gulped audibly. Even Quatre was inching away from the approaching needle. Wufei eyed the liquid-y contents. "What is it?" he asked, slipping out of his over-shirt and flexing his arm.
"Just your normal hormones," she replied, flicking the needle. "A mixture of estrogen and progesterone." An iron grip seized his arm, a finger pressing, searching for a vein.
"E-e-estrogen?" Wufei swallowed.
Finding one that looked about right she swabbed the area with iodine. "Yep. Don't worry. Once the pregnancy is confirmed, your body will naturally produce the hormone without incentive." The needle was in, the contents injected, and then withdrawn in less than a minute.
She patted his shoulder and smiled at his pallor. "Let that settle into your system. Now, you boys have something for me?" She looked at the others, noticing that they were all looking at her with a bemused statement. No, wait, they weren't looking at her... they were looking past her...
Someone snickered. She looked back at the Chinese man. He looked like he was in shock. "Would you like to sit down?" she asked. "Are you feeling woozy?"
"Oh, he's fine," Duo was saying, grabbing her attention again. "Hey, listen, is Wu-man gonna like," He trailed off, his hands flustering in front of him. "Gonna, like, grow..." He blushed.
She relieved him of the container she'd given him the day before, before he could spill the contents. "Grow... what?"
"Ah, well, um... you know," Duo finished, flushing terribly.
"Breasts!"
Everyone turned to the blond man.
"They're called 'breasts'," Quatre repeated exasperatedly. He noticed the looks. "What? I have twenty-nine sisters! I can recite more know-all about women than I care to."
"Uh... yeah... " Duo cleared his throat. "So, is, uh, Wu-man gonna get breasts from this stuff?"
"Not from that one dose, no," Hiroshima answered from where she was standing at the lab countertop. "Though, during the pregnancy he might experience some tenderness, maybe some slight swelling."
She was emptying the continents of one of the containers into a petri dish and sliding it beneath the microscope. "Do you guys care to watch?" She asked, flipping a switch on the counter and leaning closer to the lens.
Whether they did or didn't was a moot point as the vid-screen flared to life, relaying the image from the microscope. They stared, eyes fixed in a morbid-like fascination.
"Is that what I think it is?" Duo asked softly, watching as literally hundreds of 'things' squirmed busily across the screen.
"No, lunch isn't until later," Hiroshima replied, focusing the microscope.
"You know, *some* things should never be microfied," Quatre mumbled, looking a little green.
"Don't worry. It's a wonderful source of protein." She picked up an instrument and began poking around the petri dish and it's contents. "Well, you might be happy to know that you have healthy sperm," she said as she separated one from the masses.
Carefully, she sliced the microscopic cell open, injected a needle, extracted the precious information stored within the cell and transported it to another dish where the egg cell she'd prepared earlier this morning was waiting. Within moments, the genetic information from one sex cell was completely transferred into another one.
"Okay!" Hiroshima said, rolling back away from the microscope. "That's done." She rubbed her hands together. "That's the easy part, now for the fun part! Have you decided how you want to handle the second set of genetic coding?"
"Huh?"
Hiroshima practically facevaulted. "You haven't given this any thought, have you?"
"Uh, well, we weren't really sure what to think about it, so we didn't," Duo answered, one arm thrown behind his head as he beamed a smile at her.
"Hn." Heero reached out and gave a hearty tug to the braid.
Hiroshima sighed. "Well, it's like this. There are three of you, three genetic samples. I only need two. That leaves us with a few choices."
She held up the other two containers. "I can expose the egg to Heero's sperm, Duo's sperm, or both, and let the egg decide which one to accept," she told them. "Or I can go ahead and splice one of each, join 'em and then add that new genetic code to the egg. Or..."
Cobalt blues narrowed. "Or what?" Heero asked, his grip tightening on the end of Duo's braid as he and Duo stood on either side of a still-very-much-stunned Wufei.
Hiroshima shrugged. "Or," she answered. "Or I can splice open another sperm, inject the genetic coding into another egg, expose to first egg to your sperm and the second to Duo's. Depending on if both zygotes take, you'd have yourself a set of fraternal twins."
It was through sheer force of will that she prevented herself from laughing in the face of the sheer panic that flared in those blue eyes boring into her.
"No," he grounded out, effectively dousing the look of surprised excitement flushing the braided man's face.
"Oiya, but Hee-chan," Duo whined.
"No. Absolutely not."
"But, why not?" The young man practically attached himself to the other's arm, large violet eyes looking up, pleadingly.
"One child is one thing... two is... completely out of the question."
"But Hee-chan!"
"No. Think about Wufei," he returned. "It's going to be bad enough with him being pregnant in the first place!"
"But Hee-chan!"
"No. Stop it, Duo. I'm not relenting on this."
Duo played his most undeniable puppy-dog-eyes attack. Heero returned with his deadliest Glare o' Death.
"Use Duo's," Heero told her, not taking his eyes away from Duo's. He saw the other's reluctance, but he refused to back down.
"No," Duo said finally, looking away from Heero to Hiroshima. "How long will it take to do that splicing thing?"
Hiro shrugged again. "I can have a zygote ready for implantation by tomorrow afternoon. Definitely by tomorrow night." She looked from the braided man to Heero. She smiled. "So, do you have any preferences?"
They stared at her dumbly. 'Men,' she thought. "Since I'm going to be playing with some genes here did you have any special requests? Eye color? Hair color? Skin pigmation? Gender? You know, all that fun stuff."
"You can do that?" Quatre asked.
She shot him an amused look. "Oh, hon, that's *easy* stuff! I mean, really! Didn't you ever think it was curious that *all* your sisters have blond hair and blue eyes when your daddy had dark hair? Blond hair, blue eyes *are* recessive genes, you know."
"But, *I* have--"
"You just got lucky, dear," Fatina spoke up for the first time. "Actually, we were all quite surprised." A hand reached out, as if to cup his cheek. She snatched it back as if she realized what she had been about to do.
"No," Wufei spoke up, blinking his eyes several times before focusing on Hiroshima. "No preference."
She beamed a smile at them. "Good! Well then, I suggest you guys go out and have some fun until tomorrow night. We'll set the surgery for... let's say 7pm?"
"Isn't that a little late?" Trowa asked.
Hiroshima shrugged. "Not if you guys head out to another colony for the night."
"Why would we do tha--"
"This is going to be the last night of partying for Wufei for a while," she cut Duo off. "I would expect *you* of all people to want to make the best of it."
Heero frowned at the comment. What made her act so familiar with them? She didn't--
"For how long is 'a while'?" Duo was asking.
"Well," Hiro replied, leaning back in her swivel chair, crossing her long legs. "If you take into account the recovery time from the surgery... that's three weeks alone right there." She looked at Wufei.
"You won't be allowed to consume any alcohol or drugs of any kind. Caffeine's also a no-no. You'll need to maintain a healthy diet and take vitamin supplements daily."
"I understand," Wufei replied, licking his dry lips.
"Hn, well, you just go out and have fun," she said. "I'll take care of everything here and everything will be ready by tomorrow."
They looked at her, looking ready to say something else. She met their gazes squarely. Finally they nodded and turned to each other.
"Well, then," the blond was saying. "I guess we should go."
"Sure thing!" Duo piped up. "Let's go have ourselves a party. I've heard of this really great club--"
The door slid shut behind them.
"You're honestly going to do it, aren't you?"
She closed her black eyes, fighting back another sigh. "Yes, Fatina, I am."
She could feel the other woman's raging emotions boring into her back. With a muffled sound that was a mix of huffing and sobbing, the small blonde turned away and followed in the direction of the five men, leaving her alone in the room.
"God forgive me, but I am," she said to the empty room.
********** End of "Oh Baby, Baby" Part Nine **********
Andrea Readwolf
Please send comments to: andrea_readwolf@hotmail.com