03-Apr-2001
Pairing: 2+R
Category: Songfic
Rating: PG (mostly for language)
Warnings: Irreverence; references to hetero-ai and shounen-ai;
mild angst; may strike some as OOC or even AU.
Spoilers: Takes place before the final battle in the series, so
there may be vague spoilers for the last few episodes.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Sunrise, the Sotsu Agency,
and Bandai, and I intend only to increase their revenues by
contributing this derivative work. The song is "Maria," by Blondie
(minus a bit in the middle, which I snipped and rearranged because I
couldn't deal with all nine million repetitions of the chorus), and
it can be found on their recent album _No Exit_. And if it doesn't
scream 2+R, well, you're just not listening right. ^_~
Notes: This isn't part of any of my other timelines, though that's
probably pretty obvious. Heero isn't meant to come off as a jerk
here, btw--just clueless.
//denotes lyrics
I know you don't really do this, but it doesn't hurt to ask, I guess.
How does it go? Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. Um, sorry about that--force of habit. Anyway, it's been--okay, a really, _really_ long time since my last confession, and I've done more stuff than you have time to hear about right now. I just need help with the one thing, really. The rest of it can wait.
What's troubling me? Man, is this going to sound stupid.
There's this girl.
//She moves like she don't care
Smooth as silk, cool as air
Ooh, it makes you want to cry//
You probably know her. Know of her, anyway. Everybody does.
I'm probably not the only person obsessing over her, either. Maybe the most unlikely one, though.
I don't know what it is about her. It's like she's made out of light. Like she doesn't really touch the ground. And she sees right into you, somehow. I don't know how. But she's all I can think about, and it's going to get me killed.
Yeah, I said 'killed.' In case you hadn't noticed, there's a war on. And I can't get distracted by stuff like this.
//She doesn't know your name
And your heart beats like a subway train
Ooh, it makes you want to die//
The first time I saw her, I was trying to kill somebody. And she stepped right in the way. No fear: she wasn't even mad at me. Just asking why.
She does that a lot. It can really get on your nerves--and then it makes you think. I'm not sure which is more dangerous.
Anyway, then I got to see her again, a couple of times--and every time I made an even bigger fool out of myself. You wouldn't think that could be possible, but it's true.
She smiled at me once. Just once. I wore that damn smile like a badge all day long, you know? Walked around in a goofy daze like I'd just won the lotto. Pathetic.
I want her to do it again--want it so bad it's making me crazy. I want her to look at me the way she looks at him, like she can't fill up her eyes fast enough. It's wasted on him anyway--he doesn't even care, the big idiot. If he does, he sure as hell doesn't let on. Sometimes I wish I could just slug him--not that it'd do any good. He'd just look at me the way he always does, like I'm some bug he wants to squash.
There's more than one way this craziness can get me killed. I should start making a list.
//Ooh--don't you want to take her
Want to make her all your own//
I could make her look at me like that--maybe more than look. I know I could. Okay, _maybe_ I could. Not that I'll be getting the chance to try. Probably a good thing for all concerned, I guess.
What? I know love is a perfectly natural thing. Not that I've had much experience with it.
But this isn't--look, I don't even know her, not really. I've only _seen_ her three times, not counting vids. And she doesn't even know I exist. So it can't be love, right?
God, I think I'm going crazy.
//Maria, you've got to see her
Go insane and out of your mind//
I never had dreams like that before. I didn't even know I dreamed in color until I started dreaming about her. Maybe it was always in black and white, before.
But when she's walking around in my dreams, her eyes are definitely blue. And her hair is yellow--that makes it sound like mustard, and it's nothing like mustard. Fancy stone-ground mustard, maybe. Anyway.
No, she doesn't just walk around. Sometimes we talk about things; sometimes she just holds my hand, or sits there smiling at me. Sometimes it's more, y'know, intense. But it always ends with her hugging me. Just holding on to me, and letting me hold on to her. And I feel safe, for the first time in a long time. It feels good. Really, really good.
I can't afford to get used to that.
//Regina, ave Maria
A million and one candle lights//
So you've got to help me--you've got to tell me what to do to make it go away. You're supposed to help, right? So teach me how to shut it off.
Nothing's funny. I was just thinking I should be asking him all this stuff. Talk about shutting things off--he's definitely got that down pat.
But I guess you'd know too, huh. So how do I do it? Give me a penance, anything--just help me stop it. Help me _want_ to stop it.
//I've seen this thing before
In my best friend and the boy next door
Fool for love and fool on fire//
This friend of mine keeps trying to tell me it'll all be okay--like he's one to talk. At least he's in love with another soldier boy, somebody who knows what it's like to--
Yeah, I said 'boy.' Got a problem with that?
Okay, then.
Anyway, he's even more of a goner than I am. Walks around singing, saying stuff like they write in greeting cards--he has these big swimmy eyes, though, so it's actually kind of cute. I guess.
But I'm not cute--not like that. And I'm not heroic or dramatic or interesting, like _him_. The one she looks at. I guess if I can't possibly be in love with her, then she can't possibly be in love with him, either--all either of us ever does is look.
I wonder if she dreams about him like I dream about her. I wonder if she dreams in color.
//Won't come in from the rain
She's oceans running down the drain
Blue as ice and desire//
I still can't believe the things she's done--for a dumb kid, she sure has turned up the heat on the bad guys. Turned on the lights, is more like it--she flipped the switch, and then everybody could tell who the cockroaches were by the way they scuttled for the shadows. It was pretty cool, actually.
I wouldn't say she made our job easier, but she sure did make it less lonely. Even when no one else believed in us, when the colonies that sent us to Earth decided we were acceptable losses, she was still out there. All by herself, most of the time.
Man, that messed me up. I kept waiting for them to kill her--no bodyguards but that old chauffeur-guy of hers, and she kept walking calmly into lions' dens like she didn't know she was a juicy steak.
//She walks like she don't care
You want to take her everywhere
Ooh, it makes you want to cry//
And every time, she walked back out in one piece. It was amazing.
They showed her on the news once, giving some speech--big white dress, like some kind of freaky bridal gown. Crown on her head, and her hair pulled up so tight it had to be making her eyes water. She looked miserable. She looked beautiful. I wanted to kiss her so bad that I had to hang on to the arms of the couch to keep from climbing into the television. Like I said: pathetic.
I don't know what they thought she was going to say, but she turned it around until she was giving her own speech. Turning on the lights again. That time, I was positive they were going to kill her.
Didn't happen, though.
//She's like a millionaire
Walking on imported air
Ooh, it makes you want to die//
And now she's in the den of the biggest lion of all: her damn brother, with his big guns and his big ego. He'll be the death of us all, if he gets his way.
We're supposed to make sure that doesn't happen--which would be a lot easier if we weren't all worrying, at least a little bit, about her. Being the pathetic idiot that I am, I'm worrying a lot.
I worry about stupid things like the air quality on a station that size: do they have enough purifiers? I worry about more logical things, like whether her brother's crazy enough to kill her before someone can rescue her.
And the really pitiful thing, the really selfish thing? That in the middle of all this noble sacrifice, I happen to be feeling sorry for myself because I don't get to be the one bringing her back. It shouldn't matter, as long as she's safe. But it does.
//Don't you want to make her
Ooh, don't you want to take her home//
This could have been my chance, you know? Hilde told me, but I didn't have to tell him. I could've gone myself, saved the day. Been her hero. But the message wasn't for me, was it?
Sometimes this whole 'no lying' bit really sucks. I can't even bend the truth without getting royally pissed at myself--not that I'm too happy with me at the moment as it is, but you know what I mean.
And anyway, she wants it to be him. So there you go, babe--he's on his way. Should be there by now, actually--hope you're smiling at him. Hope he's smiling back.
Right, like _that's_ going to happen.
And I get to sit on my hands, at least until they let slip the dogs of war and turn me loose to kick some ass. I believe I'll have an aggression or two to let loose myself--that'll come in handy.
//Maria, you've got to see her...
Regina, ave Maria
A million and one candle lights//
In the meantime, I've got nothing better to do than to sit here in Peacemillion's multifaith chapel talking to a statue. No offense-- you're a nice statue. And they did a good job with that veil, by the way--nice shade of blue.
But I doubt there's anything you can do for me after all, huh? Just-- tell your buddy Chris to look out for her while she's flying around out there, okay? Remind Cathy and Liz that they have a little protégé who could use some looking after, while you're at it.*
I'll even light you a candle or two, if that'll sweeten the deal. These sure are little, though. Guess a couple more can't hurt.
Okay, that's ten--all there were in the box. Knock yourself out.
-end-
Note:
* Chris is St. Christopher, commonly invoked by travellers. St.
Catherine of Alexandria was (according to legend, anyway) a young
girl from a rich, possibly royal family; her public-speaking skills
and logical arguments are credited with many, many conversions,
and she is said to have converted most of Maxentius's army while he
was holding her prisoner. She's the patron saint of (among other
things) philosophers, preachers, and young girls. ^__^ And St.
Elizabeth of Portugal, known as The Peacemaker, is invoked in time
of war.
And believe it or not, I am aware of how garbled Duo's bits and pieces of ritual get--he's putting things together from memory after a long lapse, after all. Not that I'd know anything about lapsing.... ^_~
(:./lilias/fool)
