October 2, 2000
Rating: Mature audience only, please...
Pairings: 1+2+5, 4x3, 6+9, S+11
Warnings: Yaoi Lemon. Sappy in some parts. Angst in other areas. Strong language at unexpected turns. A pregnant Wufei & Noin. 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.
Duo confronted Heero--err, or did Heero confront Duo? Either way, the two had a confrontation in the shower. Oh, and Quatre and Trowa were interrupted in the garage by Dorothy and the ever-adorable Kit, who had brought Mariemeia over because she wanted to talk to Wufei.
And how's everybody holding up with 'the Hiroshima files'? Confused yet?
It was a picture of two children--one boy, one girl--sitting side-by-side on the grass, beaming up at the camera. The girl's long black hair was pulled up into pigtails that streamed over both shoulders. Her cherry-icicle-stained lips stretched in a mile-wide smile, revealing one missing tooth. His messy black hair was falling into his eyes, his lips barely restraining the laughter the picture screamed with. Two 'bunny ears' were poking up behind each little head.
The caption below it read: Heero Yuy (9) and Hiroshima Jackson (7).
~ The Hiroshima Files.
He'd first explored the wing his room was on his room was in. Well, he walked the hallways, anyway. Most of the rooms he'd looked into were bedrooms, and after he'd looked into one and heard the moans originating from the bathroom, he'd pretty much decided that he really didn't need to go exploring bedrooms--even if each one *was* styled differently.
He'd counted twenty doors on this side--whichever side of the house he was on. Assuming that there was an equal number of bedrooms per doors and that there was an equal number of rooms per wing... Well, this place was big enough to support two or three orphanages. He was a little angry with that.
'What right do these people have to live in all this luxury when there are people struggling to just survive?' fired his thoughts as he studied picture after picture--and their elaborate golden frames--and curios and tables and knick-knacks that studded the walls. All the little frivolities that spoke of unimaginable wealth--so much money that you had nothing better to do then spend it on trivialities.
It made his chest burn and his stomach sour.
He didn't pass anyone as he walked the hallways. It was like the entire place was empty. A flash of color caught his eye as he passed a window, and he looked out to see an equestrian field. He'd never seen a live horse before--it was gorgeous and secretly he hoped he'd get a chance to ride one while he was here.
The majestic beast completed its last jump and pranced about as its rider slid from the saddle. Its ruddy body glistening with the sweat. Jake watched as the horse was led away by the rider, sad to see the creature go. And once again, he continued down the hallways. When he came to the stairs, he decided to go up.
And that is how he found himself the treasure cove known as the Winner Estate Attic.
It was a picture. A middle-age man and woman, smiling, ruddy-faced, at one another, champagne glasses raised in a toast. His salt-and-pepper hair (more black then white) scraped his shoulders as his spectacle-clad eyes focused--not on the camera, but at the beautiful woman at his side. It was plain to see his love for her, captured perfectly, an instant in time. The woman, her rich brown hair kept stylishly short, framing her heart-shaped face, her messy bangs falling into large Prussian blue eyes as she stared back at the man, her own adoration and love equally as visible. Pearl-drop earrings and a matching choker gleamed in the flash. A present from that day.
The caption read: Samuel and Trinity Jackson, 15th Anniversary.
~ The Hiroshima Files
She stood in silence for a moment, nervous after the servant had left. There was no reason why she should be nervous, she thought. After all, she was here to see and talk to an old friend, perhaps one of her oldest. Or, at least the only person alive who had known her longest.
She wrung her fingers and sighed with a 'humphf'. She was acting silly, she knew, and she hating acting silly. Hated it almost more than anything. She shouldn't be nervous. She shouldn't be feeling these little butterflies flapping about in her stomach. Her throat shouldn't be dry every time she tried to swallow. It shouldn't. But it was.
She had been shown into the common study--or, rather, the family room since this was the room preferred most by the five men who lived here. It was a room she had visited many times before; this was a house she had... well, considered almost as a second or third home when she was young.
Not that she was old, she reminded herself strictly. No, of course not. Fifteen going on sixteen was still young. Fifteen going on sixteen... that's how old *they* had been... But things were so much different then. Then... when she was still a child.
"Are you just going to stand there all afternoon?" a mildly amused voice asked, startling her.
She looked up, surveying the room. No one sat at the large desk in the corner by the fireplace. All the chairs were empty save for a sleeping black cat on the chair by the window. The sofa facing her was empty as well. Which left only the--
A hand lifted over the edge of the sofa facing away from her. "Don't tell me you've gone deaf now, girl."
Mariemeia Khushrenada smiled, pushing her feet away from the door. "Soon I will be a woman, Wufei. Then you will not be able to call me 'girl' anymore."
The Chinese man was scrowling, eyes closed as he reclined on the couch. "I will call you 'girl' for as long as you are, and since I don't think you are about to change that fact--"
"I remember a time when you used to listen to me," Marie said, ineffectively hiding the amusement in her soft voice.
"Yes, obviously we have all had our bouts of insanity."
Marie laughed lightly. "Some more than others, no?" Her China-blue eyes drank in the sight of him, hungrily gobbling the image up. "You look like a lazy panther stretched out like that, Wufei," she mused.
One onyx orb slit open and focused on the slip of a girl with an intensity that seemed to burn to her very core. A part of her wished desperately that he would continue to look, to appreciate her appearance before him. A part of her desperately wished to be anywhere else than at the receiving end of that gaze.
Wufei turned his face towards the ceiling. "Demitri said you wished to speak to me, girl, so speak."
The auburn haired teen frowned, coming around the sofa fully. "Wufei? Are you alright? You usually continue our--"
"I know what I usually do, girl, and yes, I am 'alright'. I am just weary from recent happenings." A small smile played at the Chinese man's lips and one slender hand extended, open palm, towards her.
Marie, still worried for her friend, slipped her smaller hand into his--conscious of the calluses of his male hand under her practically perfectly manicured hand. The difference of a doer and a sayer, a part of her mind quipped before she could silence it. Even the impression of pens and numerous pages turned were imprinted there in his fingers as they wrapped around hers. She slid to her knees, beside him on the floor, her hand in his.
"You don't look alright," she pressed, chewing on her lower lip. "Why are you not in your chair, Wufei? Sabb is getting black hairs all over your chair."
Wufei smiled, squeezing her hand in his. "I am resting, girl. Can't a man rest once in a while?" She made to say something else, but he shook their joined hands. "Enough with me, girl. Tell me, what brings you so urgently to my side that you could not wait till this week's end, hmm?"
Mariemeia frowned, but let the matter pass. And then her thoughts turned inward, to the reason for her visit.
"I don't have all the answers, Marie, ma petite amie," Dorothy had said, taking the teen's hand in her own and thumping it against her chest as they strolled together through the park.
"Oh? Really?" the redhead had quipped, smirking at the blonde.
Dorothy had just looked at her from the corner of her icy eyes. "But, perhaps talking to some others would help you, no?"
Mariemeia had sighed then. "I don't know who else to talk to," she admitted. "I try to talk to Mother and Sally, but... I always feel so terrible for all that I have put them through. And Noin and Zechs... well, not Zechs, but Noin... I can't... and... Relena's too busy with government to spare a few minutes to talk girl talk with me..."
"What about the boys?" Dorothy had asked. "Or don't you feel comfortable talking to any of them any more?"
"No, no, of course not," Mariemeia had rushed. "But... well... I *did* try calling... but... I was told they were out of town still."
Dorothy had stopped then, turning to look at her. "All of them?" she asked, suddenly curious.
"Yes," she had answered, frowning, and then gasping when she realized what the other must be thinking. "Oh, no, no, not on--not like *that*," she hastened to tell her companion. "I was told they were away on a personal sabbatical."
"A vacation?" Dorothy had asked amused. "But Wufei has just *returned* from--"
"I know, I know, but that is what I was told."
"Well," Dorothy turned to continue their stroll. "Well, I have it on good authority that the boys are back in town. We could always drive by there just to see if you like. Perhaps there is someone there who will provide you with the answers you seek...?"
Her hand was shaken, her attention snapping to the present.
"You haven't fallen asleep on me, have you, girl? I asked you a question."
"No," she murmured. "No, I haven't." She shifted, laying her head between Wufei's arm and stomach, pulling his arm across her in a semblance of an embrace.
"Then tell me," his warm voice cajoled softly. "What is troubling you, Mariemeia Khushrenada?"
"So many things and nothing at all, Chang Wufei," the woman-child replied, equally as soft. The was a dreadful moment of silence, and then she asked, "Tell me, Wufei, do you know who am I?"
'To know thyself is one of the greatest treats in life.' That's was Heero told me the other day when we got together for a weekend picnic. I think that's beautiful. I wish I knew myself.
~ Hiroshima Jackson
April 16, 171AC
Age 15
He had gathered all that long hair and washed it for him. Normally, Duo would have relished the gentle attentions of his lover, but not now. No, now he was angry with his lover and so he just stood there while the other man's fingers ran over his scalp and body, running through the long strands of hair, detangling, shampooing, conditioning, moisturizing.
Heero quickly took care of himself while Duo left him alone in the shower. Heero was hot on his heels to follow, taking up a towel and comb to the long masses of hair. Duo didn't protest, just sat there, quietly. When the semi-wet braid plopped down against his bare back Duo made to get up.
But Heero leaned forward, weaving his arms over and around the other man, leaning into the other man, face turned in. "Please don't be angry," the husky voice whispered below his ear. "Don't be mad, Duo." He hugged the silent man tighter.
There was a tense minute of silence, and then Heero sighed, his body drooping. "Okay, fine then," he said, his arms pulling back. "But I still do love you, Duo Maxwell," he added, drop-kissing the other's throat.
Duo whirled, braid whipping out, hands snatching up the first thing they came in contact with, and WACK-ed the pillow across Heero's face. "Damn you," the long haired man hissed, eyes burning, before storming butt-ass naked from the room.
Heero stared bemusedly at the pillow that so recently assaulted him, to the door through which his lover had exited.
"Too late," he sighed. "Too late..."
It's gone... it's all gone. All of it. *Years* of research. Gone. I'm in shock. I know. I'm a scientist. I'm doctor. Even I can recognize the signs of shock.
It's been ten days since the fire... since the--Fatina's worried, I know. She's still upset. So I am, but I know I have to be strong. I can't cry, I can't be weak, I can't let the other's see what a blow this has been. Gone. It's all gone. Even Daddy's research is gone. I can't believe I never made copies of it. I can't believe it's all gone. Just like that. It's...
I had a plaque made. In memory of Brynne, Jade, Trey, Rueben, Eva. I set it next to Mother's and Heero's memorial. They were too young to die. All of them. Gone. Just like that...
Fatina... she... tries... I know... I know she's trying... but I feel... dead. Yes. Dead inside. That's how I feel. This emptiness is worse than anything... worse then when Mother and Heero died... worse then when the other left... worse...
Worse than anything...
Mother... Heero... Daddy... I need you...
~ Hiroshima Jackson
January 16, 183
He walked into the room, holding the door a moment longer for the man following him before beginning to strip. The door shut smartly behind him and he paused in reaching for his shirt to look behind him.
"Auh, Quatre?" he asked, eyeing his blond-love warily.
The man in question was leaning heavily against the door... smiling. Trowa *knew* what that smile meant...
"Quatre, we have guests waiting..."
"Marie's talking to Wufei, and Dorothy wont mind if we're an extra five minutes late," Quatre replied, eyeing the other man, still smiling.
"'Five minutes'?"
The grin increased. "Maybe ten," Trowa heard before a body was plowing into his, pushing him backwards.
They fell, landing on the bed, Quatre over Trowa, kissing him hungrily. In a tangle of arms and legs and hands and fingers, somehow they managed to get undressed--
Before their door was swung open forcefully and a wet-braided and naked man stormed in, slamming the door behind him. The two men on the bed looked up, surprised.
"Ah... Duo...?" Quatre hedged for his vantage point over Trowa.
"I don't wanna hear it!" the braided man snapped, yanking drawers out and tugging on a pair of jeans that were too long for him and a button up shirt that was too big. Bending over to cuff the jeans around his ankles and then tucking the shirt into the waist he grumbled. "Trowa, I'm borrowing some clothes."
And then, just as violently, he was gone, the door banging behind him.
A startled Trowa and Quatre stared after him before turning to look at one another.
"I am suddenly very glad we won't be around for the next couple of months," Trowa told his love.
But Quatre looked worried--that is, until Trowa shifted beneath him, reminding the blond of what they had been in the middle of before the disruption.
********** End of "Oh Baby, Baby" Part Twenty Two**********
Andrea Readwolf
Please send comments to: andrea_readwolf@hotmail.com