10-Mar-2001
Title: Chasing the Crown, an Extended Family Fic
ExFam Authors:
RavynFyre - ravynfyre@hotmail.com
Diane Davis - fenwyck@radiks.net
von - sablexo1@yahoo.com
bonnejeanne - bonnejeanne@yahoo.com
*Guests to be announced*
Category: yaoi, AU
Rating: PG-13 for now, that will change
Pairings: 1x2, 3+4
Spoilers: Series, Endless Waltz, Mission: Arcadia
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing characters and universe are the property of the copyright owners.
Kenny, Duan, Wufan, Tryan, Carter, Jack and the Ripper, and everything relating to Rip & Jack's universe are ours. No money being made here.
Feedback: Any and all comments, feedback, critiques welcome, be they short or long.
Please feel free to direct feedback to any or all of the authors!
WARNINGS: AU (Alternate Universe), Original Characters, LEMON in some sections. Kiddie-Angst.
Tryan opened the door to one of the empty rooms. Peering in, he saw Carter lying curled up on the bed. He sighed with some relief and turned to let his friend sleep.
"Tryan..." the voice was very soft. "Don't go."
Hearing the voice, Tryan turned back and entered the room. He padded over to the bed and sat down beside Carter. "Are you okay?" he asked, quietly.
The small blond head nodded. "I'm fine. A little sleepy. But I don't want to sleep all day though." Carter's hand crept out and touched Tryan's. "I'm sorry I worried you."
"It's okay," he said. "I didn't know where you were, so I climbed out the window and went upstairs. I peeped inside, but you weren't there, either." He moved to lay down facing Carter. "Duo's up there. Is that your secret hideout?"
Carter smiled. "It's not really mine. Someone else stays up there sometimes. But I found that it was good and quiet sometimes, when I had trouble making my head be still. It sort of feels like... it feels like Arcadia in there sometimes. Like there's music you can't hear playing."
Tryan nodded. "That's cool," he said, threading his fingers through Carter's. "Ok, so next time I'll know where you are and I won't worry so much. Who else stays there besides you and Duo?"
Carter smiled and looked down. "Not supposed to tell." Then he leaned forward and whispered something in Tryan's ear.
Tryan nodded at first. He appreciated a good secret, but when Carter leaned forward and whispered in his ear, he smiled. "Good," he said, definitely. "That makes me feel a whole lot better."
The small blond smiled back. "I can't quite find it yet but I'm hoping when we get to Earth," he said softly.
Tryan nodded again as his face took on a serious look.
"Hi," a voice said from the doorway. It was Wufan who came inside and sat on the bed. "Are you all right?"
Carter's cheeks turned a bit pinker. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make everyone worry. I'm okay."
Two more figures appeared at the doorway.
"Hn," Kenny remarked. "We just gotta take care of each other."
Duan nodded and took Kenny's hand as the moved to the bed.
"Right," he said.
Climbing onto the other side of the big bed, Kenny perched with Duan beside him.
"We're going to Earth soon," he said quietly.
Wufan pushed his glasses back up on his nose and nodded. "That's right. Maybe we should talk about it," he said.
"Plan," Duan said.
Tryan nodded, looking up at Duan and Kenny. The he frowned slightly. "What's wrong?" he asked.
Kenny glanced at Duan.
Duan sighed deeply. "We talked to Duo," he said, feeling his shoulders slump. "It was about Heero."
"Oh," Tryan said.
"What did he say?" Wufan asked.
It was Carter who answered, his voice carrying a bit of quiet authority. "Heero was close to the Epyon once. That means the Crown. It doesn't let go too easy."
"So just what *is* the Crown?" Duan asked. "Is it something we can blow up?"
"I don't think so," Carter said, his brow furrowing slightly. "I don't think it's very easy to blow up. And we left the Storm back there."
"Can the Storm kill it?" Wufan asked, hopefully. This was a little more complicated than the piece of jewelry he thought they were after at first.
Carter frowned thoughtfully. To Carter, the Storm was all powerful, since it actually destroyed the base he'd lived in all his life and it's 'greenie' inhabitant. "I bet it could," he said, nodding to himself. "But maybe they know some other way too."
"Maybe," Tryan said, "But it helps to keep that in mind."
The little blond smiled. "Yes!" he said. "You can make a picture of the Storm in your head sometimes if you feel anything is weird or something! I didn't think of that, Tryan!" He impulsively hugged the brown-haired boy with the long bangs.
Tryan's eyes widened, but he hugged back. "I got something?" he said, "Cool!"
Wufan looked over at Kenny and Duan. "Maybe it would work too when things felt weird over here too." he said. "Like maybe we can use that everyday."
Carter nodded like his head was on a string.
Kenny smiled slightly. Carter's positive energy was very contagious. He wasn't so sure he could do what they were saying, but he sighed inwardly, vowing to give it a try.
"Okay," he said determinedly.
"Yeah!" Duan added in. He suddenly felt better too. "Ok, so like whenever we feel weird or something while we're here, we can think of where we came from... the good parts, and it'll help us!" he concluded, then hugged Kenny hard.
Kenny's eyes bulged slightly but he submitted to being hugged and patted Duan's back. The good parts of where they came from. Kenny knew he had brought all the good parts with him, since Ma... wasn't around any more.
Carter smiled gently at Kenny and then quickly looked away.
Wufan grinned, then scooted in between Tryan and Duan and lay flat on the bed, with his arms behind his head. "This might not be so bad," he said, feeling like a part of the gang. "We look after each other and we look out for Duo, Heero and Wufei and Ma."
Kenny looked over at Wufan and nodded affirmatively. "How is your M-ma doing?" he asked softly.
Wufan sighed. "I think she's doing all right. I think she likes it here, but she's still a little nervous like we are. Say, can I tell her about thinking about the good parts too? She's from where we were. It might help her."
Kenny nodded. If it would help, he wasn't against it.
Carter nodded too. "That's a good idea, Wufan," he said and then ducked his head, smiling in embarrassment.
"Thanks Carter!" Wufan said, leaning up on his elbows. "I will do that."
"Look," Duan said, feeling his old sense of mischief return. "Carter's blushing..."
Everyone looked at Carter, who giggled and pulled the covers over his head.
"Oh no you don't," Tryan said, reaching out to pull the covers back.
Carter ducked his head and clutched a pillow for cover.
Kenny snorted softly. "Strawberry shortcake."
Duan looked up. "What's that?" he asked Kenny.
Kenny looked at Wufan. "Could your Ma show us how to make strawberry shortcake? I saw it on the vid. I think Duo would like it. Maybe H-heero too. And Wufei likes fruit doesn't he?"
"Yes," Wufan said, sitting up. "I'll get Ma to show us. She can make anything!"
Kenny smiled, accepting the statement with no difficulty. "Good. Let's find her."
"Mmmmm," Duan said. "That looked real good," he said, standing up. Looking over at Tryan, he signaled for him to take the other end of the covers. At a nod, they jerked them away from Carter and Duan moved the pillow.
"Come on, let's go find Sallah," Tryan said.
"Yeah, or we'll start callin *you* strawberry shortcake, Count Dracula," Duan said.
Carter giggled and gave up trying to hide behind something. "Don't even!" he said, still giggling. He jumped to the floor and looked like, well, are you guys coming?
Duo stood at the foot of the tree, resting one hand on the thin end of a drooping branch for a moment as he peered out over their yard and beyond. Jack's words had helped to calm some of the confusion within him, but not all. He wasn't quite ready to join the others yet, especially with the sudden feeling of restlessness that had overcome him. With Heero gone for an unspecified period of time, he couldn't pin his lover down for a talk. He wasn't even sure if he was truly prepared for something like that yet anyway. Give it time. See what happened.
Rip's words from this morning, spoken over a knife, of his dark side seemed to prick at the back of his mind. This restlessness... It was familiar to Duo. It was the same sort of jittery anticipation he felt each time he strapped into Deathscythe, preparing for an upcoming battle. Thoughts of Heero only seemed to intensify his disquiet.
Memories of those frantic few years, surviving on the streets, living from hand to mouth, and scrapping for his very existence came to him. For once, he looked upon them almost fondly. Well, there was always one way to deal with tension.
A feral smile lit upon his lips. It had been so long since he'd been "home". He wondered what the old neighborhoods were like. Plus, he could always use this chance to go grab his bike out of storage. He smiled to himself as he pictured the old pre-colony relic in his mind. Gleaming chrome pipes, flashy black detailing, engine that purred like a ravaging panther.
Oh yeah. That was the ticket.
Well, since Heero was out with the truck, maybe Wufei could give him a ride to the spacedocks. With a jaunty skip to his step and a dark whistle on his lips to cover the inner disquiet still plaguing him, he strode off in search of the Chinese youth.
As if somehow in sync with the braided boy's agenda, Wufei could be found in the garage of the house, doing a last cleanup after tuning up his own motor bike. It was a small but powerful Japanese model, one of the newer ones, and while Wufei did not seem to affect any of the biker foibles, the truth was he rode it hell bent for leather just as he had at 15.
"Hey, Wu!" Duo called, slipping his familiar cheerful mask into place, "Going out?"
The Chinese boy nodded. "I have to pick up a package at the port," he said absently. He finished wiping his hands with a rag and looked up. He tilted his head slightly. "Need a ride somewhere? Heero's taken the truck."
"Yeah, if you wouldn't mind," Duo replied cheerfully.
Wufei nodded. His eyes swept briefly over the braided boy. "Ten minutes... enough time to dress?"
"Oh yeah. I just need to grab something real quick from my room anyway," Duo nodded, something glittering almost ferally in the depths of his amethyst eyes, "That's plenty of time."
"Hn," Wufei remarked. "I'll be in the kitchen."
"I'll... uh... meet you out here, k? Thanks Wu!" he called, turning on his heel to sprint into the house before Wufei could answer.
The Chinese boy watched Duo dash off, frowning slightly. He shook his head and went in at a more reasonable pace, washing his hands at the kitchen sink. Taking the list of Sallah's kitchen needs off the refrigerator he tucked it in his pocket. She hadn't asked him to get anything but he saw no reason why not to pick up her supplies while he was out.
Duo sprinted up the stairs to the room he shared with Heero, slowing to a more sedate pace near the door to the room where he'd left Carter, so he wouldn't wake the boy if he was still sleeping. Once inside his own room, he locked the door again, and once more fished out the familiar case under the bed, picking the lock with ease. Carefully withdrawing the last two gundanium knives from the confines of the box, he started to hide them on himself, and then rethought his plan. Glancing towards his closet, he tossed the knives on the bed, closed up the box, and put the case away.
With it stowed back in place, he stood and shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it on the bed too, and then stripped out of his white t-shirt as he vanished into the closet. A moment later, he reappeared, pulling a black turtleneck over his head and tucking it into his black jeans. The knives were quickly strapped on in various easily reached locations, and the leather jacket went over the whole ensemble. Tossing a glance at his reflection out of habit, he smiled darkly to himself. It would do.
He turned towards the door, flipping the lock open and striding out to jog back down the stairs and out to the garage to wait for Wufei.
The Chinese boy came out a moment later, looked at Duo briefly, stopped, and looked a second time. He zipped his jacket and got onto the bike without a word, revving the motor and then waiting for the other boy to hop on.
Duo took a moment to tuck his braid down the back of his jacket to keep it from getting tangled in the wind, and to check and make sure the gun was still securely tucked into the back waistband. Satisfied, he pulled a pair of black leather biker's gloves from the pockets of his jacket, slipped them on, and then hopped on behind Wufei.
Wufei waited until he felt Duo settle behind him and then took off for the business section of the colony center.
As they neared the dock areas, Duo tapped Wufei on the shoulder, then pointed off to a curb near a small side street. With a curt nod, Wufei gunned the throttle, accelerating in the direction Duo had indicated. A short distance before they reached the spot the braided pilot had pointed out, Wufei throttled back and played the brake tight, sliding the two youths to a controlled stop beside the curb. Duo gave Wufei's shoulder a quick squeeze of thanks as he slid off the back of the bike.
Nice little bike that: fast, maneuverable, power to spare, with a small frame that could squeeze into tight spots that his big bruiser of a vintage Harley wouldn't be able to. He might have to indulge himself in one of those sporty little Japanese numbers here one of these days.
He glanced up, surprised that Wufei hadn't left yet, and met the Chinese boy's narrow gaze for a moment. Wufei was watching him closely, a thousand questions in his eyes, but thankfully none on his tongue. Duo grinned cheerfully at him, waving once as he turned down the street, stuck his hands in his jeans pockets, and started sauntering away. A brief moment later, he heard Wufei's bike rev up hard once more, and zip away. Duo stopped, turning to watch as the other pilot finally vanished from sight in the heavy traffic.
The grin faded as Duo turned back down the street, his shoulders slumping into a thoughtful slouch. As he instinctively headed for the shadows of the buildings, his mind kept returning to the same few thoughts, over and over. Heero. Relationships. The Crown.
When had it been that he'd fallen in love with Heero? Love, not lust. Oh, he'd lusted after the cobalt eyed-pilot probably since that first encounter. He remembered the faint twinge of regret that had spiked through him as he'd pulled the trigger that first time. Yeah, it was only intended to have been a warning shot, but even still, firing on the androgynously beautiful boy had seemed like such a wasteful crime. It was even worse for that second shot, the one when Heero had gone for his own gun again. That was probably why that shot had also only wounded the Japanese boy, even though Duo's instinct had been to shoot to kill. Hard lessons learned on the street had taught him never to give an enemy a chance to turn his weapon on you. Which usually meant taking them out before they could aim. Even back then he'd had a weakness for his partner.
"I wouldn't, if I were you," he purred warningly to the shadow he'd picked up three blocks back, "This mark bites back."
A youthful voice spat out a harsh curse from the darkness of the door stoop a few feet behind him before the clatter of footsteps fled for parts unknown.
Duo blew out a sigh, shaking his head. Amateurs. Solo would have had that girl's hide for such a sloppy approach. A faint smile floated across his face as he remembered the hard clout he'd gotten from Solo the first time he'd botched a nip. The last time he'd botched a nip, at least until Father Maxwell. Solo had possessed quite a left hook for such a little kid.
So even back then, his libido had noticed Heero. When had his heart woken up and gotten involved? Probably that first school they'd been at together. When Duo had gotten a chance to see how withdrawn, quiet, and focused Heero really was. The boy had been practically screaming repressed to Duo then. So he'd made Heero his mission.
Steal a Gundam. Accomplished. Get to Earth. No problem. Save the world. Workin' on it. Humanize Heero Yuy. Hmmm..... challenge.... Mission Accepted.
And of course the more time he'd spent with his taciturn partner, the more infatuated he'd gotten. It had started with rivalry, challenge.... Conquest. Conquest had evolved into passion... which had evolved into need... which had become... love. Adoration. Devotion.
So far back. Strangely, Duo found himself comforted by that thought. It took him another mile, steadily trudging along, of deep thought, before he realized why.
Trust. Everything in life boiled down to trust. Without it, then what assurances were there that life would go on? Without trust, what would prevent any bloody fool from simply... dropping a colony on an unsuspecting planet, murdering billions and plunging the world into never-ending winter? Well, okay, on that score, five crazy boys with their own war machines and nothing to lose. That's what assurance. But just day to day life. Take a traffic signal for instance.
When that light flashes red, there's no fence that pops up to prevent traffic from continuing. There's no reset button, no magic forcefield, nothing to really keep that oncoming car from just continuing on its merry way, right into your door panel, ushering you on into the void.
Nothing but trust, of course. Belief. The signals worked, because everyone believed in them. Everyone trusted that everyone else would obey them. It all boiled down to trust.
Duan didn't trust Heero. Duo could see it in the way the boy watched his lover. That specter of doubt that shadowed the boy's eyes every time he looked upon Heero, that mantle of hesitation that covered Duan's ears every time Heero spoke. Not that Duo particularly blamed the boy. If Duan's past had been anything like his own had been, Duo would be amazed that the braided boy was as trusting as he was. At that age, Duo wouldn't have trusted God himself, if the deity had appeared to him and said that space was cold.
Did Duan see something that Duo wasn't? Something that went beyond the occasional quick tugs on his braid or the rare cold remark? Or was it all just a function of the boy's survival instinct? A need to protect himself from any further disappointment in life?
Perhaps when things quieted down, and the Heero he'd fallen in love with at first could come back out. Maybe that would placate the young orphan.
Duo stopped dead in his tracks and blinked as he ran that thought through his mind again.
The Heero he'd fallen in love with. The Heero who, despite being easily annoyed by a certain braided pilot, still had come to respect his piloting skills and abilities as a fellow terrorist. The Heero who didn't try to keep him wrapped up in silk and bubble wrap, or consider him a fool when he protested such treatment, yet still somehow managed to convey concern. The Heero that had believed in him. The Heero who had trusted him.
Funny how it all still boiled down to trust.
He resumed his slow walk, suddenly aware now why he was so relieved to discover that he'd loved Heero so early on. Because the Heero he had fallen for hadn't flown Epyon yet. Which meant that... somewhere within this new Heero, under the confusion and uncertainty, buried below the cold indifference, somewhere hopefully beyond the influence of the Crown, his Heero still lived.
The alternative would have been having loved a stranger from the start.
The gun tucked into his waistband warmed a little against his spine as he absorbed the sight ahead. The half dozen punks standing in the street hefting pipes and old broken ball bats were only the distraction, meant to keep him from noticing the other dozen or so would-be toughs skulking in the alley way and other deep shadows. Just one guy walking down the street in a well worn, but obviously well cared for leather jacket was too much of a temptation for the street gang to resist. Duo was well aware that the lack of tears, stains, rips, or other scuffs on his wardrobe screamed, while not affluent, at least well off, to anyone fluent in the language of the street. He'd counted on it. He'd actually been quite surprised to have gotten this far into this old neighborhood without having been seriously challenged.
From the appearance of the gang up ahead and spread out around him, he could guess why. This band of cutthroats had probably run all the other competition out. And from the looks of some of the assault style weaponry the punks on the rooftops were toting around, and the no-nonsense way said weapons were being set up and trained on him, he was pretty sure they didn't particularly like competitors. Or witnesses.
Well then. If they wanted to play, then by all means.
As he threw himself to the side to avoid the first gunshot, his own gun appeared in his hand, a flash of light already blazing from the muzzle. A gratifying shout of pain, quickly cut off, and the clatter of the offending rifle dropping to the pavement, sang in Duo's ears as he vanished into the shadows himself, already taking a bead on his next target.
A manic, feral smile lit up his face as he gave himself over to the combat, calling upon Shinigami just like the old days. Dark side, indeed...
"Mary had a little lamb, its fleece was white as snow," Duo sang softly as he finished cleaning up the last of the toughs, "And everywhere that Mary went..."
"Who are you?" a small voice asked from the mouth of the alley.
He stood up, wiping his hands down his jeans as a small smile crept upon his lips.
"She had mutton for dinner, every night of the week," he continued, turning around slowly to face the adolescent hovering almost timidly at the corner of the building, ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble.
She was willowy and delicate, like a thin reed that would break in a stiff breeze, She tried to hide it under the layers of clothing and grime, but his sharp eyes, and freshly re-awoken street sense, saw past the ruse. There was a wiry strength in her thin frame; there had to be, otherwise she never would have lived out on the streets as long as she had. And she'd obviously been living here for a while... she had that air. He could see it in her eyes, constantly shifting, never focusing on any one thing for too long, always roving, looking for her next target, or next escape route. They were the eyes of a waif who'd already seen too much.
It reminded him of Solo.
"Hey... Are you listening?"
She tensed, at the verge of flight as his small smile widened at her bravado. Not that she would have been able to outrun him in those clunky old boots, if he'd had a mind to chase her.
"You might call me something of an alumni," he replied wryly.
She frowned in confusion, taking a wary step backwards.
"I grew up around here for a while when I was a lot younger."
"You talk too good," she challenged.
"I got out," he replied simply.
She snorted, crossing her arms over her chest in disbelief.
"No one gets out."
A strange light flashed in his amethyst eyes as he jerked a thumb to the tangle of bodies behind him.
"They got out."
"Why.... did you do that?" she asked carefully, obviously not troubled by the gang's elimination, but wary of Duo, and Duo's strength.
"Like I said... I grew up around here once... I don't appreciate big guns, and I don't abide drugs. They'll mess you up good," he replied, pulling a baggy full of narcotics from his pocket to waggle at her.
"Drugs... how.... How did you know? I ain't never seen you around here before..."
He snorted mirthlessly as he tucked the plastic bag back into his coat for safe keeping until he could destroy it later.
"Amateurs like those guys? The only way they could even afford guns is if they were dealing," he scoffed, taking a nonchalant step forward.
She tensed, but didn't bolt. Her eyes narrowed judgmentally, watching him with a suspicious air.
"Speaking of amateurs... you need to work on your approach. I heard you when you started tailing me three blocks before you tried to nip my pocket back there," he continued blithely, exiting the alley and turning down the street.
"You- Who ARE you, anyway?" she asked, amazed as she followed in his wake.
"You're not listening to me, are you, kid?" he sighed exasperatedly, "I'm a friend, if you let me."
"I don't need no friends," she shot back sullenly, falling into step beside him.
"Everyone needs friends. Especially street kids. Not safe if there's no one to watch your back."
"You're alone," she observed.
"How do you know?" he replied with a wicked chuckle.
Immediately, she stopped, her body tensing up as she cast about frantically for either anyone else, or a place to run.
"Relax, kid. If I'd wanted to hurt you, you'da been nabbed back there when you bungled that snatch and run. I'm just here for a stroll down memory lane. And my bike," he added as an afterthought.
"Your bike?"
"Yeah. But it's back closer to the space docks. I'll get it on my way home."
She fell into step beside him again, awed eyes darting up to his face for a moment before she breathed, "Home?" in a reverent voice.
He remained silent, just kept walking, dark gaze darting about for any more surprises. He didn't want her caught in any crossfire or retaliation.
"What's it like?" she asked, her voice low and hushed.
"Home? Depends on who's cooking," he joked, "It's warm and dry. There's always a bed for me, and plenty of food to eat. Enough water to drink and still be able to take a shower. And safe. That's the best part."
"Safe..." he heard her whisper.
"Ya know... there's shelters...Foster homes and stuff..."
"Like anyone can actually get into those places... there's waiting lists years long," she snarled defensively, "Ya think I'm too stupid to know that?"
"Would you go if you could get in?"
"Are you stupid or something, mister?"
He smiled down at her, a wry, brotherly sort of smile, as if he were sharing an inside joke with her. She relaxed a little, responding to his boyishness despite herself, and threw up her hands in the air.
"You just ain't hearin' me I guess," she sighed dramatically.
"Bet I could get you in."
"You are stupid," she observed mater-of-factly, "Or plum loco. I tol'ju... those places got lists. You gotta work with social workers," and the way she sneered those last two words plainly expressed her opinion of the profession, "before you can even get ON the lists... then you gotta stay on the list forever... 'til they can find you someplace."
"Sometimes you just have to know the right person to ask," he replied cheerfully.
"Yeah? And who's that? God?" she snorted derisively.
"Nah. I don't believe in God."
"Why not?" she asked, curiously.
He shrugged, shoving his hands further down into his pockets as he turned down another side street.
"Never seen a miracle."
"Ah. Me neither."
"Do you believe in luck?" he asked, cocking his head as he glanced down at her.
"I believe in me."
"That's funny... I believe in you too," he replied with a small smile.
"You're a pimp, ain't ya?"
He couldn't hold in the surprised bark of laughter at the sudden wary question.
"Been called a slut plenty of times... never a pimp. That's a good one."
"Then what's with all this feel-good hope crap yer shoveling at me?" she demanded.
He shrugged again, glancing around to get his bearings again.
"Everyone needs someone to believe in them. To give them a chance."
"You don't get chances when yer out here," she replied fatalistically.
"Oh? Then what would you call this?" he flipped back curiously, stopping to look up at the sign over the front door of the building he'd paused in front of.
She frowned, following his gaze.
"Sunrise New Start? You ain't been listening to me one bit, have ya? Places like this... I'll be grown up and dead before I could get on their list."
"Never know unless you ask," he answered, heading up the stairs to the door, "You coming, kid?"
"This should be good for a laugh," she sighed, shaking her head as she followed him.
Duo hadn't missed the longing flash of hope in her eyes as he'd glanced back at her. Mission accepted.
She stared at him incredulously as the social worker placed a gentle, welcoming hand on her shoulder.
"I don't understand..." she whispered softly.
"A long time ago, someone took a ratty little street kid in and gave him a second chance. It was just time to return the favor... give someone else a chance," he replied with a sad smile.
"How..."
"Like I said... Sometimes you just have to know who to ask... and you never know until you do ask," he said, although the huge donation he'd made for her probably hadn't hurt. He could always get that new sport bike some other time.
"Who are you, mister?"
"Just another street rat like you."
She eyed him with disbelief in her muddy brown eyes, but chose not to argue.
"I gotta go, kiddo. Don't screw this up... Second chances don't come around that often."
She darted forward, wrapping her thin arms around his waist for a quick hug before letting go and slipping out of reach again.
"I won't... I promise."
Duo gave her one last cheerful smile, nodded thankfully at the social worker, and then turned to walk down the steps. As he turned down the sidewalk to head back out towards the space docks, her strong alto called to him.
"Hey mister! You're wrong, you know... Miracles... they happen... I'm seein' one right now!"
"So am I, angel. So am I."
Beside her, the social worker sighed gently before turning to usher her inside where it was warm.
"Come on... uh... hmm... He never did tell me your name. What is it?"
She cocked her head, lagging behind long enough to watch him vanish around the corner.
"He called me Angel..." she whispered to herself, "Yeah.... Angel. My name is Angel."
The door creaked harshly as he shoved it open, protesting against the year long rest. Duo smiled, tossing aside the crowbar so he could throw his whole shoulder into the sliver of darkness. It widened obligingly, albeit loudly, while rust flaked off the abused hinges.
"Well, at least I know no one's been here," he murmured wryly to himself as he slipped through the narrow opening and walked right into an ancient cobweb.
He took a moment, scraping at his face and coughing to rid himself of the clinging silk, before reaching for the light beside the battered door frame. The small garage blinked into luminescence, as the overhead lights flashed on, one by one.
Along the walls, discarded piles of junk and trash still lay stacked and scattered, discouraging any who might have managed to get past the rusty old door from delving too much further. Near the back of the garage, more piles of various broken, trashed, and otherwise useless machines camouflaged the tarp covering his pride and joy, hiding it from prying eyes and keeping it safe.
He picked his way carefully across the floor to the winch switch hanging against the far back, and carefully flipped it on as well. The ancient machine rumbled to life with a sputter and a cough, slowly reeling in the web of cables holding the mass of junk together on the main floor, sweeping it against the far wall and revealing the heavy tarp below. With the junk out of the way, Duo shut down the winch and walked over to the tarp, running a hand lovingly over its dusty surface.
Deciding not to yank the tarp off quite yet, Duo snatched up a broken bristled old push broom from the floor, and began sweeping a path clear to the rusty door. The path cleared, he concentrated on getting the door open all the way, and then making sure the short drive beyond was clear of hazards. Only then did he return to the tarp, which he gripped with both hands and threw off dramatically.
The florescent lights caressed the glossy black tank and wheel guards of the motorcycle. The gleaming chrome pipes, engine block, forks, and trim winked devilishly in the bright white light. He stepped forward and ran a reverent finger along the proud eagle logo emblazoned across the tank and leather seat. Without further preamble, he hopped astride the metal beast and kicked her started. The engine turned over in that deep, rumbling purr that was a trademark of vintage, pre-colony Harleys, with nary a cough or a backfire to protest its long slumber.
With a wicked smile, reminiscent of Shinigami himself, Duo stroked the throttle hard, and tore out of the garage, leaving the empty shell behind for good.
TBC
End of Part 8
Please feel free to direct feedback to any or all of the authors!
ravynfyre@hotmail.com,
fenwyck@radiks.net,
sablexo1@yahoo.com,
bonnejeanne@yahoo.com.