September 6, 2000
Rating: Mature audience only, please...
Pairings: 1+2+5, 3+4, 6+9, S+11
Warnings: Yaoi and Yuri themes. Sappy in some parts. Angst in other areas. Strong language at unexpected turns. 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: "Oh Baby, Baby" is in approximately 203 AC, placing the boys at ~23-24 years of age.
Jake Mazzolla has joined the Gundam-boys on the Behenna Satellite--and discovered (much to his surprise) that they're gay--by the way, Jake does *not* know that they are the Gundam pilots. Wufei went into surgery. Lady Une has decided to talk to Heero and Quatre. Oh, and Noin's pregnant (YES! *FINALLY*! Someone's pregnant!)
Heero skimmed through the file Lady Une sent him in ten minutes. And then he read through it more thoroughly. And then he read through it again. And again. It was over an hour--when the front door hissed open--that his senses began to return to him. He unfroze from his seat, looking away from the blurred computer towards the door as voices permeated the void that had surrounded him.
"That will work out absolutely perfect!" Quatre's voice drifted into Heero's darkened room. "The rest of the bags will come tomorrow, but these will tide over till then. The suit will take four days to complete, but since you'll be staying here with Duo for a while it--"
"I thought we agreed no formal wear?" Heero asked quietly, leaning against the doorframe leading to the bedroom, his arms crossed over his chest, frowning--though there was little heat in his words.
The blond man looked up, beaming, towards his Japanese lover, ready to reply. Whatever words he'd been about to say died on his lips, the smile falling to a quick death as well.
The tall young man behind him--loaded down with several bags--picked up whatever thread of speech his blond lover would have said. "It was decided that he should have at least one formal suit--in readiness for an occasion."
The amusement lacing the words related that those were the same words used earlier. But the laughter which was coloring his emerald eyes darkened, hardened, and the tall unibanged man turned to the teen trailing behind him in a stunned silence.
Trowa and Heero both felt a twinge of remorse for the boy--they both knew what it was like to have survived a shopping trip with their small blond one... With twenty-nine sisters to influence his young years, the Winner Master could attack a mall or shopping district with the force of a Level 5 Hurricane, and if the mood so took him, hours could be spent in one store looking for the "right" shirt--which all four of his lovers were, by that time, absolutely positive *didn't* exist....
"Jake, please take these to the second room," Trowa said carefully, handing over the bags he carried to the dazed fifteen-year-old. "I am sure you must be exhausted. If you should wish to stay there to relax and unwind, we will leave you to your privacy."
Hazel eyes blinked and then the dark head gave a little shake, the boy snapping out of his daze, realizing he was being talked to. "Um, yeah, sure, Trowa," he replied, reaching out to take the bags from the tall man--
And struggled to drag them into one of the rooms.
There was a small twitch at the lips of the Japanese man as he watched the teen struggle with the bags. He knew they must be heavy but he didn't move to help. The boy didn't ask for any. The door slid shut, sealing Quatre, Trowa, and Heero alone in the common area.
"What's wrong?" Quatre waited only long enough for the door to slide shut behind Jake, and then he pounced.
Heero straightened, the navy blue, close-fitting cotton tee he was wearing stretching out over his chest as though it was molded on. "The Lady has an interest in this satellite," Heero answered, crossing the distance between them.
Quatre frowned, but Heero continued. "And after reading the report she sent me, I can understand why." He stopped before the blond--not smiling, not frowning. His statement was dead. It was an statement they were all more than familiar with originating from the Japanese man. It was one the man had mastered long before they had met.
And then it was gone, the cold mask of nothingness, as though it had never been there.
"I have some things to see to," Heero said softly. A hand pressed against Quatre's cheek. "The file's on my computer. I suggest you read it, too. We'll talk later."
He turned to leave, only to be held back by a hand holding his. He turned, cobalt meeting, clashing with emerald.
"Should we be worried?" Trowa asked softly, a hundred meanings resting in four quietly spoken words.
Heero turned back towards him. If eyes could speak, Trowa would have had an earful. As it was, he understood that look too well. "I don't know yet," Heero replied needlessly, for his eyes had already said 'yes'.
Heero wandered, seemingly aimlessly, throughout the entire satellite. It wasn't overly large. The majority of the satellite was mechanic rooms and storage rooms, nearly fifty percent. There was a small shopping district that catered to the residents' needs that was stretched across three levels and the resident area which was split into three different sections, three levels each. There was also an education level--for the children of the workers here, Heero knew. The rest of the small satellite was labs and research facilities.
It all looked... normal.
Heero returned to the shopping district. Purchasing a small lemon slushy he sat down at a bench and just... people watched. 'These are innocents,' his mind told him. He tilted his head back, swallowing the last of the chilling slush.
And then stared at the woman standing in front of him. She was shorter than the woman he remembered--but maybe that was just because he was taller. Her brown hair was shorter and sported highlights that the younger woman in his memory lacked. But the brown eyes that were focused intently on him still possessed that spark he'd associated with her.
All this was assessed in the amount of time it took him to stand. Her smile widened and she reached forward to hug him like an old friend. Old habits die hard, and at first he pulled away from the woman who was not one of his 'family'.
"Relax," she whispered in his ear. She pulled away first, her smile still firmly in place. "I'm sorry for keeping you waiting for so long," she bubbled.
"No problem," he returned, understanding.
"I know we said we were going to see a movie, but perhaps we could grab something to eat first? I got caught late in the lab and I'm absolutely famished!" she continued.
"Of course."
She laced her arm in his and began walking off. The middle-aged woman sitting at the bench smiled and thought 'What a nice couple'.
He dropped the bag right inside the door, flexing his arms and shaking out his hands to encourage the circulation. Damn! Those bags were heavy. He was amazed that Trowa had carried them so easily throughout the entire trip, never protesting as another bag was added.
And there *were* a lot of bags. And there would be more tomorrow. And still more that Quatre had had shipped down to Earth.
And it wasn't like they were all clothes. Oh, no. That would have been too simple, he guessed. There were the usual things that Quatre had insisted upon: underclothes, socks, jeans, some tee shirts. Or, at least, that's what Jake had assumed they were after.
You know, try on one or two pairs of jeans, grab two or three to take with you--that'll last a year. Two or three tees, a package of underwear, a package of socks. There. Done. Everything you need to get you through the year right there.
Uh uh... not according to Quatre Raberba Winner.
Jake now had five pairs of jeans. Okay, that's okay. He could deal with five pairs of jeans. He wasn't complaining--I mean, that only meant he had a larger gap in between dates with the laundry, ne? They weren't all the same jeans, either, which gave Jake an even longer gap between laundry visits in his mind.
One pair was black--that was something new. Jake didn't normally wear black jeans. In fact, maybe only once--when he'd had to borrow another's jeans. But we won't talk about why. Two pairs were normal blue jeans--not too dark, not too light. Those would get a lot of use, he knew. One pair was a dark, dark blue. He wasn't too sure if he'd wear those much, but, hey! He'd give it a shot--if there was nothing else left to wear. The last pair was a stone wash blue that was so light it was practically white. Jake wasn't sure if he'd *ever* get into those. White just was *not* his color...
Five pairs of jeans where two would have done. Okay, fine. Jake could deal with that. Fine. The underwear... well, that had just been weird. He had gone straight for the old fashioned briefs--tighty whities for him, please. Quatre had been looking at the boxers. Being of the firm belief that boxer shorts and tight jeans just should *NOT* be worn at the same time--
They'd come to a compromise after about twenty minutes. Two packages of briefs were somewhere in that pile of bags by the door. There were also three pairs of boxer shorts that Jake had absolutely *no* intention of wearing. Ever.
There were tees. *LOTS* of them. He could now say that he had more shirts than he'd ever had in his life. In a rainbow of colors. He wasn't sure what to do with all of them.
There had been a few other things, too. Some jackets--a windbreaker, a raincoat, a robe. Now there was something he'd stared at for a long time. A robe? What the hell did he need a robe for? What's wrong with a towel? The pajamas were just... weird. What was the point in sleeping in clothes?
The suit was just... Jake didn't know what to think about that. He'd never worn a suit before--and he wasn't really sure if he wanted to start now. He'd held up real well till than--or, at least, he'd thought. But from then on, everything was in a daze.
They'd left the departments that sported his favorite threads: jeans and a tee. And they'd traveled into realms unknown. Jake's mind had just shut down for self-preservation. Even now, Jake was a little afraid to go near the bags and peek in. Afraid that he'd see one of those weird things--those... slacks... and dress shirts... and... and... He shivered.
They'd searched for shoes, too. Jake knew there were at least three boxes of shoes in one of the bags. At least.
And... 'toiletries' Quatre had called them...
And... and... *STUFF*! Jake wasn't sure what he was going to do with all of it. He rubbed his hands over his face and sighed. Trowa was right. He was more than just a little tired. He stretched and cracked his neck, sighing again. It had been a long day. Plus he was still on L2 time... a very long day...
"That's all I can tell you," she said before slipping another fork-full of garlic buttered angel hair pasta into her mouth.
Heero nodded, taking another bite of his own meal, Veal Parmesan. His mind was racing ahead of him at a frightening pace--well, frightening to most. Heero was well adjusted to the pace and quickly he'd narrowed all his options with their variations down to the best course of action. The fork and knife were placed, kris-crossing, at the top of his plate; the white starched napkin removed from his lap and folded beside the plate. It was all the cue needed for the server to come and whisk away his plate with an inquiry for anything else.
Doce, also, motioned for her plate to be taken away. "So, what do you plan to do."
Heero held her with a look. "Get into those files, of course," he answered reaching for his credit card.
"I'll get it," she told him, reaching for her purse.
"I was going to bill it to the Preventers," he answered with a shrug, tossing the card on the little plate their server had left them.
Doce smiled and leaned back. "Lady Anne won't complain about the needless expenses?" she asked with a winning smile--which only increased when she saw the telltale twitch of his lips.
"Let's just say the Lady owes me," he replied, signing the slip that was brought back to him. They slid away from the table and proceeded out the restaurant.
"So it was Chang," she said softly once they'd cleared the traffic of pedestrians.
"Hn."
"I wondered who..."
"And now you know," Heero cut her off, stopping to look at her. "Is he in any immediate danger?"
She blinked, taken off guard at first. "Immediate? No, I don't think so. But I really don't know enough about the project to guarantee anything, Heero. I'd need to look him over, and of course, he'll have to be monitored. A pregnancy usually takes care of itself, but, in this case... anything could happen."
"Will you... monitor him, for us?" he asked after only a moment's thought. "I am almost sure he will ask to leave this place. And there are few people I would trust with his care..."
Doce smiled. "I understand. Yes, I would be honored to attend to Chang Wufei during his pregnancy."
"Arigato," the young man replied softly, his cobalt eyes closing with the briefest of relief. "We can work out the legalities of this arrangement later..."
"Yes, that's fine," she answered, still smiling. "I was planning on moving on out away from this place anyway. I've been here too long as it is, and not enough was getting done." She stretched with a loud purr of contentment.
"I'm a mover and a shaker," she sighed. "I like to get things going. This place was starting to get a little bit too boring for me." She winked at him. "I should get going. Here's my number. Call me." She smiled and winked at him again even as she slipped a business card into his hand.
Heero stared at the number, memorized it, and then slipped it into his back pocket. 'A mover and a shaker, indeed,' he thought. The oldest of the Behr sisters hadn't changed much at all.
The door whooshed open and he slid quietly inside the room. A smile tugged on his lips as he gazed upon the two curled bodies on the bed. He gave in and smiled. He tried to swallow but found it hard, the lump in his throat too large--chokingly large. He felt the hot tears burn at his eyes as the throbbing in his chest swelled. It hurt so bad. Worse than dying ever could.
He stood over them, staring down at them, loving them. Loving every curve and angle. Loving every emotion and memory they filled his life with. Loving them. Loving them for everything they were and everything they weren't and everything they tried to be. Just... loving them.
A hand reached out and brushed a ribbon of silk-like ebony hair back, his knuckles grazing over that bronze cheek, caressingly.
Onyx eyes blinked sleepily, struggling to focus on the one standing over him. A smile teased at his lips, and the onyx orbs drifted back shut, content in the presence of trust.
"We need to talk," Wufei murmured, shifting his weight on the bed, hissing when the movement tugged at his sensitive center.
"Hush, koi, hush," Heero whispered back, climbing onto the bed behind the Chinese boy, into the space made for him. "There is time for talk later. Now you must rest and regain your strength."
Wufei sighed heavily, but his body relaxed into Heero's. "You are right, I know." He sighed again, his breath evening out--but he did not drift into sleep again. But then, neither did Heero, he knew.
"You are worried," he whispered, turning his head into the arm pillowed beneath him.
"Hai..."
"About this...?"
"Partly, but not all," Heero answered softly.
There was another moment of silence before Wufei spoke up again. "She said it would be two weeks before I would be allowed to... move..."
Heero smiled, curving his lips into the Chinese man's tender throat. "I'd say a week at the most, ne?"
A tenseness that had seemed to pull at Wufei's muscles relaxed and he sighed. "Yes," he repeated languidly. "At the most."
Heero would not fight his desire to return home. All would be well, he thought.
"But we can't leave just yet," Heero said after another moment, as though sensing Wufei's thoughts. "There is something I must first take care of. But then, we shall go home."
Wufei had tensed for a moment, but then relaxed again. "Yes, we should be home," he whispered, drifting off to sleep again.
"Home," Heero repeated, sensing his love fall into the embrace of sleep once more. "Hai, home, my koibito." His arm draped across both Wufei and Duo's sleeping bodies, holding them close to him in the night.
His chest still hurt, but it was a delicious feeling to him that he wouldn't exchange for the world.
********** End of "Oh Baby, Baby" Part Fourteen **********
Andrea Readwolf
Please send comments to: andrea_readwolf@hotmail.com