INTRODUCTION
I started writing this mainly as an experiment. I see plenty of Danger Days-inspired fanfiction centred on The Fabulous Killjoys, and original characters heavily involved with said Fabulous Killjoys. This is of course logical. But I was curious - no fanfics I'd read seemed to mention anything other than "important" people. The true 'killjoys', the renegades running around chasing BL/ind agents and basically getting themselves killed. Either best friends, related to or romantic with The Fabulous Killjoys.
And all I could think was, where do their ray guns come from? How do they fuel their cars? Where do they get their supplies? Who fixes them up when they get themselves almost killed?
This fanfiction is based on those people. The story they lead may be extraordinary (in my opinion anyway), but the characters themselves are ordinary. Refugees trying to escape the iron hold of Battery City - idealists trying to return to a 'pure' way of life, people just trying to survive. People who don't care about gang wars or BL/ind or trying to create trouble.
My fanfiction is from the point of view of one of these people - a girl living in a large settlement struggling to make ends meet. She's not concerned with BL/ind or Dracs - her main worry is about her pregnant older sister and making sure both mother and child survive the impending childbirth. Dracs, bandits, renegades - they're all the same to her, and all she wants is to survive as easily as possible in this hostile new world.
But for this girl, her already fragile world is about to be thrown into yet more chaos. She's not a fighter - she doesn't even own a gun. But soon she will be thrown into the fight of her life, into a new struggle that she did not ask for. Will she rise to the challenge? Or will she buckle under the pressure? Who knows what will happen? After all, she's not a fighter, not a 'killjoy' or renegade.
She's just a girl.
Chapter 1
It was a hot day.
Every day was a hot day. But this day felt particularly hot. Angel didn't know if maybe the radiation levels were higher and that was why it felt so hot, or if it was just stress. Usually the heat didn't worry her all that much, but today she was just sweltering in her boots.
Damn, she wished she had a car.
Midas had a car. But then Midas was older than her. He'd never let her borrow his car, it was his baby.
Well, until the real baby came. As soon as the baby was born – depending on the success of the birth, of course – Midas would have a new gem to fuss and coo over.
Maybe that was why she was stressed – the baby. She may not be the pregnant one, but that didn't mean that Harmony didn't take every opportunity to make Angel feel as bad as she felt – if it wasn't running her off her feet with errands to prepare for the upcoming birth, it was griping and bitching and moaning about how horrible she felt until even Angel felt like crap as well.
Harmony was a great big sister, but damn, she was an awful pregnant woman.
Angel sighed. She couldn't blame Harmony, really. Harmony was just worried. If there was one thing they told you NOT to do in the desert, it was to have babies.
The terrible conditions made it nigh impossible to have a baby safely and healthily. The heat dehydrated both mother and child, and in a place where water was hard to find, dehydration was serious. There were no hospitals in the desert, no sanitised closed-off areas where women could give birth safely and privately. No doctors, no medical crews. Harmony had been seeing a woman with qualifications in midwifery, an unflappable woman named Donorcycle (apparently she'd always get motorcycle crash patients in med school purely by coincidence, hence the name), but just one doctor in a desert with no medical facilities didn't make anyone feel much better.
And if that wasn't bad enough, the radiation meant that most babies were born with horrific birth defects anyway, and didn't survive long.
Having children was an emotionally draining, dangerous and difficult venture out in the desert. Angel almost never saw kids around, and the few healthy kids she saw were.. abnormal. Born with wildly coloured hair and eyes, the only children to survive childbirth were almost like a new breed. Smaller and built with slender bodies, with dark skin covered in light downy hair, these children were true desert-dwellers adapted to survive their harsh conditions.
The children scared Angel. They were proof of the fact that she and the other zonerunners were a dying breed. Humans were clinging grimly on to their old ways, but nature was ripping them away, giving the world to a new type of people. Humans couldn't survive in this hostile new world, despite their attempts, and the children were a message from nature - "your time is up".
The world had changed, and the human race had been left behind. They were relics, museum artifacts. Out with the old, in with the new.
Angel shook the gloomy thoughts from her head. Her race may be at their end, but that didn't mean that her life was over. She had time to live, and boy did she want to live it.
She stood up, looking out over the neverending expanse of dirt, dust and scraggly bushes and shrubs, deformed little plants struggling to survive as she was.
She was in a good place for a view. This had to be her favourite spot in the desert – the edge of a plateau that rose up into rocky, craggy mountain ranges. Somewhere a few miles down, the plateau sloped gently down into gentle craggy hills that met the flat expanse of desert gracefully. However, her destination was a few miles further up – a violent section of rocky cliffs along the ridge that, to those unaccustomed to the harsh environment, were impossible to navigate. The cliffs sloped inwards into a small cavelike gorge, hidden by the rocks and mountains, which led to a canyon that eventually joined into a small valley known as Zone 6, or The Sanctum.
The Sanctum was a valley surrounded by high, craggy mountains and ridges that were impossible to cross if you didn't know how to get in. The lake in the middle and the slightly cooler temperatures from the elevation made it a much more hospitable environment than the surrounding desert, and as such it was a roaring community, filled with people trying to get on with their lives.
The Sanctum was relatively peaceful, but most people there ran in gangs that were not always friendly to each other. But all the gangs were well aware of the need to work together to survive, so riots and gang wars were few and far between.
Angel's little family wasn't part of a gang, but they lived in a peaceful family-friendly area of The Sanctum ruled by the biggest gang in the desert, Dice. Despite not being directly affiliated with the gang, Dice took care of Angel's family and kept them safe from harm.
It was probably the best place you could find to have a baby, without resorting to returning to Battery City.
Angel and her sister had fled Battery City nearly seven years ago. Harmony had always been a bit of a hippie, and the oppressive, hostile nature of the city had depressed her. Despite the comfort and relative luxury of living in the city, Battery City was ruled primarily by a company known as BL/ind. For the safety of its citizens (as they claimed), BL/ind kept a totalitarian grip over everyone in the city, to the point of banning colour and music – anything that could evoke extreme behaviour like disorder or violence – and encouraging citizens to take emotion-suppressing pills to minimise violence or anti-social behaviour. While the crime rate of Battery City had all but disappeared and Battery City was extremely safe and comfortable, the rules and pills had reduced Battery City to a stark, emotionless, dystopian society where the citizens had no privacy, and little free will or rights.
Harmony had been angered at the oppression and dystopian rule, and after being arrested several times for protesting, she had eventually packed her and Angel's life away and driven them out of Battery City in Harmony's beloved powder-blue Combi van.
At first, it had been exciting. It was evening, and all the bright sunset colours and the newfound freedom and the sense of danger at running away had elated Angel. It was exciting, daring.
But the inexperienced girls had run into trouble fairly quickly. First they were kidnapped by bandits, and almost all of their possessions were stolen in the process. They were eventually rescued by a desert-dwelling gang, but the gang had forced them to work hard like slaves – making them do menial work like digging paddocks in an attempt at farming and building dwellings. They soon heard of The Sanctum, and – renewed by a childlike naivety and hippie idealism – Harmony had escaped with Angel to Sanctum.
The road had been difficult, though they managed to find other zonerunners heading to the valley. With their help, they made it to Sanctum and made it their home. Harmony had met Midas, and in her dream of creating a peaceful, nature-centred society and her idealistic view of staying close to nature by bearing children, she had gotten pregnant to him.
Angel had gone along with all of Harmony's plans and goals, because Harmony was her big sister and she trusted her. Even now, Angel didn't regret going with Harmony, though she'd resented her for it many times in the past. Angel felt she had to stick with her sister – family sticks together. And in the end, things had turned out okay. Life was hard, but she was happy – which was more than she'd been in Battery City, where you didn't even have the luxury to feel miserable.
She sighed. She wished she had a car. Then maybe she might be able to stay out a little longer. But no, she had the long trek back to The Sanctum to walk, and it sure as hell wasn't going to walk itself.
Maybe if I had a motorcycle, she mused. Motorcycles were easy to get – most bandits would just knock down a patrolling Drac and steal the bike to sell to the local garage shops in the desert. There was a surprising number of garage shops. Bikes were easy, but cars were a little more difficult to steal.
Nah, she told herself. Harmony would kill me. Before the bike does, that is.
She looked around the canyon one last time. It was coming close to sunset, and the sky had taken on several spectacular hues of pink and purple. Wispy orange clouds floated near the sinking scarlet sun. The light show had turned the surrounding desert a wonderful lavender colour, glowing in hues of light blue and orange. Angel almost didn't want to look away, but she had to – the desert was dangerous after dark, and Harmony would give birth early if Angel came back late.
Not that I can't protect myself, Angel thought to herself, hefting her large spear in her hands. Harmony wouldn't let her have a gun (though Midas had offered), so Angel settled on a homemade spear made of bits of car parts and an old javelin. She'd also stuck a few feathers in it, a little personal touch.
As she walked back to The Sanctum, Angel wished for the millionth time that she had a friend to hang out with. There weren't many other teenagers in The Sanctum, and the few living there scorned her as a "runaway tumbleweed", a pampered Battery City kid trying out the novelty of life in the desert. Not that I had much choice, Angel told herself. It was Harmony's idea, her hippie dream. You just went along with it because she's your sister.
Angel looked back at the setting sun and smiled.
Not that I regret any second of it.
The night life in Zone 6 was pretty unique. Since the daytime was usually too hot and zonerunners ran the risk of being spotted by Dracs or Scarecrows (BL/ind agents who patrolled the desert to keep it "safe", kind of like twisted versions of Mounties), most zonerunners ran their business and carried out their tasks in the safe cover of night. Since The Sanctum was off limits to bandits, people could go about their business in relative safety.
So when Angel got into The Sanctum, she found herself in the hustle and bustle of a typical working night in Zone 6.
Market vendors were selling their wares on the street; garage shops were open and grease monkeys openly tinkered on their precious engines, bodies slathered in that liquid gold known as oil; builders set up new dwellings to cope with the growing influx of refugees and Battery City escapees; trucks and donkey-drawn carts rumbled past carrying the precious materials and chemicals needed to produce ammunition for laser guns; they trundled into secretive establishments where the ammunition was created and sold on to weapons shops.
Angel smiled at a stall selling all manner of withered, dehydrated-looking fruit. Pests were no longer a concern in the desert, but it was still terribly hard to get crops to grow. Some new varieties of crops had been stolen from BL/ind laboratories that were able to withstand the harsh conditions, but they were difficult to get ahold of, as the few gangs who possessed these new varieties held on tightly to their precious life-giving plants.
She turned down several streets, and gradually left the business end of The Sanctum behind. Here she walked down streets lined with huts and shacks - "suburbia", if you will. Adults chatted outside to escape the heat inside their mostly rusty-corrugated-iron shelters, and Angel saw the occasional young child run past with a few friends.
Everyone looked so... happy. Even despite the harsh way of life and the constant threat of acid rain, radiation storms, drought and attack from bandits or Dracs, they looked free and content.
I guess it just goes to show that money really doesn't buy happiness, Angel pondered. I mean, we have no money at all. We just trade with what we have, what we can produce. We really have nothing. But everyone here looks so satisfied.
"Hey there, Angel! Harmony will be glad to see you home before dark!"
Angel looked up and smiled at Acetone, a friendly man who lived across the street from her place. She'd grown quite friendly with her neighbours – very different to Battery City, where she'd never even said hello to their next door neighbour.
Acetone was a wealthy man who owned all manner of luxuries – he had a job in Battery City and went there regularly. As such, he was able to buy comforts like a pedestal fan, a refrigerator, a deep freezer, and a generator which he had running constantly to power his electrical luxuries. He even had a bunch of electric lights which lit up the street at night – most people used candles. Most of the people in the street often went to his place to give him perishables to freeze, and occasionally he'd bring his fan out into the street to cool down the younger kids on particularly hot days.
He was well off, but he was also exceptionally big-hearted, and Angel had always been fond of the twinkling-eyed, smart-mouthed fifty-something year old.
"Hey, Acetone," Angel replied. "How're you doing?"
"Just got back from BC," Acetone said, eyes sparkling behind his huge grey biker beard and beer gut. Angel didn't know how he got away with looking so rough in Battery City. "I picked up a few treats for the kids, but I had some left over. How about a Coke, sweetheart? It's still cold."
Angel's mouth dropped open. "Acetone, really?"
"Of course!" Acetone flapped his hand noncholantly. "I got money to burn, can't spend it all on myself. Let me grab one for you."
"Oh Ace, thank you so much!"
"No problem, little lady." Acetone ducked inside and reappeared, holding a shiny glass bottle of dark brown liquid, the glass covered in condensation. Angel took it as if it was made of gold.
"Now you enjoy that honey," Acetone said. "Plenty more where it came from. I know how you like the stuff, and frankly I encourage you rotting your teeth with this, rather than rotting your brain with that bootleg liquor I know some kids get ahold of."
"Oh, you bet I will Ace!" Angel said, grinning. "Thank you so much!"
"No problem!" Acetone laughed, a big rumbling chuckle that shook his belly. "You go home before Harmony freaks, okay? Send her my love. Oh! And don't forget to tell her, she needs to see the room I've set up for the birth. I've got it pretty much sorted in there."
"Sure, Ace, and thanks again," Angel said. "See you later!"
"See you round, sweetheart," Acetone said.
Angel ran into the hut with a new spring in her step. She pushed on the corrugated-iron door, and nearly fell in.
"Careful," Midas said, flashing her a quick grin.
Midas was a big man, the polar opposite of what Angel had expected for Harmony. He was muscly with tattoos, piercings and a wildly dyed-green fauxhawk. His blue eyes were kind, though, and he was as gentle as a newborn kitten. He also shared Harmony's dream, which was one of the main reasons they'd decided to take the risk of having a child.
"How was the plateau?"
"Great," Angel said. "I wish you'd teach me to drive, though. Walking all the way back is such a pain."
"I'll teach you to drive when you buy me another car so you can trash it instead of mine," Midas said. "I see you've been chatting to Acetone?"
Angel grinned down at the bottle. "Yeah. He said it was left over from giving treats to the kids, but I think he was just saying that."
"Yeah, he always keeps a Coke for you. Shame he won't keep a beer for me!" Midas laughed. "Fair enough, I suppose."
"How's Harmony?"
"She's alright, she's just in the kitchen."
"Cool. Seeya, Midas."
"Seeya, kid."
Angel walked through the living area into the kitchen. They were pretty lucky with their house – it was partly built into a cave in the side of the huge cliff of the mountain range that rose above, towering over the little community. The cave meant that during the hot day, everyone could retreat into the cave end of the house where it was cooler. There was also a nice cool basement built right into the cave, with a secret passage out of the house in case of a Drac or bandit raid.
Their kitchen was pretty modest, but it was enough for Harmony. She kept several pots of withered-looking herbs and edible plants on the counter, and there were shelves and a depression in the counter which could be used as a sink, though there was no plumbing. There was a communal bathroom in the middle of the street and that was it for plumbing.
Angel knocked on the counter. "Hi, Harmony."
Harmony looked up. Auburn brown hair curled and floated around her elfen face, perfectly setting off her green eyes. Her golden tanned skin glowed with the joy and promise of pregnancy, and she gently caressed her expansive belly through a light, tie-dyed floating dress. She was dressed in a typical hippie style, with long feathers in her hair and a plaited length of leather cord tied around her head.
Harmony was ridiculously beautiful. Angel almost resented her for it. And in pregnancy she just looked even more beautiful, despite how she raved on about looking like a whale. It wasn't fair.
Harmony frowned, her delicate eyebrows knitting together. "Angel, where were you? You're late, again!"
Angel sighed. "I was at the plateau. Where else would I be?"
"Locked up by some Drac squad, that's what! Or kidnapped by bandits! Good Gaea, Angel, you always get me so worried!"
Angel shrugged and kissed her sister on the cheek. "Chill out, I was fine."
"Whatever, don't scare me like that." She looked down at Angel's bottle of Coke. "I take it you went to see Acetone?"
"Yeah. He told me to tell you to go visit him – he says he's got the birthing room all set up."
Harmony's eyes went wide. "Oh thank Gaea! That Ace, what a sweetheart. I'm so relieved. The baby's due any day now, it's good to know he's all ready for it."
Upon hearing about the pregnancy, Acetone had offered to set up the cool basement in his house as a sort of birthing room, with as many materials and tools he could gather that would be appropriate for a childbirth. It had been a slow process, as it had been difficult to get all of the things needed out of Battery City. The last time Angel had seen it, it had a proper birthing bed, his pedestal fan to keep Harmony cool, a small refrigerator for things like water and herbs that Harmony wanted as "natural" pain relief, surgical tools like forceps and syringes, towels and blankets, a big exercise ball if Harmony wanted to move around during labour, rice packs, sterile bandages, antiseptic, clamps, and even a stereo if Harmony wanted to play music to calm herself down.
The room was clean and comfortable, with chairs and couches, and dark purple and blue drapes to make the room feel private, cosy and closed in. Harmony had even placed a few scented candles around the room for a nice soothing ambience. The room was almost perfect and as inviting as possible, but still – according to Harmony – needed one or two finishing touches to complete the room.
"Of course he's ready," Angel said. "You think he'd leave it unfinished before the birth? Ace has gotta be one of the most thorough guys in the Zones."
"And thank Gaea for that," Harmony said, driving her kitchen knife into a withered cucumber with a satisfied air. "We are so blessed to have him."
"Mmm." Angel stared into the silky bubbly depths of her Coke. Little bubbles popped and danced above the surface of the sugary liquid. They were lucky, no doubt about that. But how long would their luck last?
"Gaea to Angel?" Harmony flapped her hand in front of Angel's face. "C'mon, you're all quiet. What are you thinking about?"
Angel shrugged. "Just... I dunno. Acetone's not.. young," she said. "He's like... fifty. He's not going to be around forever. Even if he doesn't die of radiation sickness or cancer, what if we get a Drac raid? Or a major radiation storm? He's not going to last for the rest of our lives. We can't rely on him forever."
Harmony sighed irritably, banging the knife on the counter. "Oh Ange, don't get all morbid on me," she snapped. "You think I don't know that? You think anyone doesn't know that? We all know we're not going to live forever. We may have convinced ourselves of our own immortality before the Fires, but we're well aware of our own mortality now. We'll all rejoin Gaea someday. But we can't dwell on that, sweetheart."
Harmony walked over to Angel and gave her an awkward hug around her belly. "Damn, I'll be glad when I can hug you properly! But back to my point. We're put on this earth to DO things – why else would we bother living, just to eventually die? Life has to have a point, otherwise why would we live it?" She patted her belly. "My purpose is to take care of you and bring this little sprog into the world. To try and help rebuild our future. To create a world for my child that is safe and happy and in tune with the Goddess."
She ruffled Angel's black-brown hair. "You have a purpose too. You're still young, you're still finding it. But you'll find your purpose, and your life will have meaning. Acetone's life has meaning too. He helps us and brings us things we need. I won't last forever, he won't last forever. But we'll carry out our purposes before we die, and that's all I ask for. And don't worry about Acetone – when he is no longer with us, the Goddess will provide. She'll find a way. She'll bring another Acetone, someone else who will help us and provide for us. Trust me, Ange, it'll be okay."
She let go of Angel and waddled over into the living area, plonking herself on the couch with a grace that belied her awkward size, breathing a deep sigh. "Now," she said, "You run along and stop worrying about things like that, okay? Asking big questions you can't answer won't make life any easier."
Angel sighed. "Okay," she said. "You gimme a yell if you need any help getting up."
"Oh believe me, I will."
Angel left the living area, making her way through the house into the dark, cool basement. She liked the basement. At the moment it was a bedroom for Harmony and Midas, since the cooler temperature was kinder on Harmony's pregnant body and allowed her to sleep better.
She still liked going in there, though, even with the double mattress on the floor covered with old clothes and possessions. They didn't have much, but Midas still managed to make quite a considerable mess with what few items they did own.
She settled on the mattress with a sigh, flicking away a dirty sock. She pulled off her boots and socks, massaging her sore feet. She inspected the worn soles of her scuffed black calf-length combat boots with a frown. They'd lasted her well, but it seemed they were going to need replacing soon. After seven years, it wasn't going to last much longer. Acetone could fix them up only so many times.
She readjusted the silver anklet around her feet. It was a gift from her parents long ago. Back then, the delicate chain was too big for her. Now it fitted her perfectly, the silver angel wing charms hanging off the chain daintily, but her parents were no longer around to see her wear it. Despite that, she still made sure to wear it everywhere under her boots. It was her most valuable possession, in terms of sentimental value. She'd sell everything she owned if it meant keeping her anklet.
She stared down at her brown bare feet, toned and lightly muscled from seven years of manual work and walking everywhere. She wished they looked like Harmony's feet. Harmony's feet were slim and dainty, with perfect toenails and slim toes decorated with silver toe rings. She had narrow ankles and curvaceous calves, even in pregnancy when your ankles were supposed to swell.
Angel's feet were awkward, with big toes. Her toenails were ragged and unkempt. Her ankles were unremarkable, and her only shape her calves had were from physical work – naturally her legs were straight up-and-down.
Harmony was curvaceous and feminine. Angel had masculine shoulders and few curves. Their desert diet hadn't helped – one meal a day of withered vegetables and stringy chicken coupled with Angel's manual work helping in The Sanctum and her walking had left her pretty thin and wiry. She wished she was voluptuous like Harmony, but she feared that was never going to happen.
Even Harmony's hair outshined Angel's. Angel's hair was plain wavy black-brown and reached her shoulderblades, unlike Harmony's mass of curling auburn tresses that reached past her thighs.
Harmony's eyes were green. Angel's eyes were plain brown. Harmony had golden honey skin. Angel's skin was just brown from the sun. Harmony's features were elfen; Angel's face was sharp and angular. Harmony's hands were delicate and gentle; Angel's hands were awkward and roughened.
She sighed. Genetics weren't fair.
Even their clothes seemed to make Harmony look better. All of Harmony's floaty dresses and tie-dyed blouses made her look like some kind of earthy elf maiden. Angel looked stupid when she tried them on. In the end, she just stuck to her plain shirts and shorts ensemble, often with a jacket and leggings to protect her skin when the sun was particularly vicious.
The only thing that Angel thought looked better on her than Harmony was her favourite shirt, a sleeveless white top with a zipper running all the way down her back, and a large set of angel wings on either side of the zipper. It was a striking shirt, hard to miss. On Harmony it looked out of place, too harsh on her soft features.
On Angel it was perfect.
Maybe I should wear it more often, Angel mused.
Harmony's voice broke through her reverie. "Angel! I want to get up now! ANGEL!"
Angel smirked, imagining Harmony stuck on the couch like a beached whale. She walked back up to the living area, and burst out laughing at the sight – for once, Harmony really did look like a whale, stranded upon her couch island, unable to shift herself.
"It's not funny!" Harmony snapped, a pout on her delicate features. "Help me up!"
"Hold on, let me help," Angel said with a grin. "Sorry, sorry."
"You so aren't sorry!" Harmony ranted as Angel scooted under her arm, lifting her off the couch. "Not in the least bit you aren't."
"Okay, maybe I'm not. But you really did look funny."
Harmony peeped a small smile. "Maybe."
"You did! You were like this!" Angel mimed an exaggerated version of Harmony stranded on the couch. "HELP MEEE I'M BEACHED AS BRO GET ME UP!"
Harmony burst out laughing, unable to help herself. "You bitch!" she sniggered. "That was mean!"
"Wanna chip, bro?"
"Your face wants a chip!"
"As a matter of fact, yes, it does."
Harmony shook her head, still chuckling. "Whatever. No chips for you."
"Daww, I bet Ace would get me one."
"Good luck to him getting hot chips all the way back here. It would be covered in sand by the time he reached the range."
"Eugh, sandy chips, yuck."
"Exactly."
Harmony sighed, straightening up. She doubled over again. "Oof! You got Sprog in here laughing too, its kicking away for all its worth!"
Angel smirked. "It kicks a lot, doesn't it?"
"Yeah, it hurts. Apparently that means its healthy if it's kicking away. Means it's not dead. Or too badly deformed."
There was a sombre silence between the two. Neither really wanted to think about what the baby might look like when it was born. So far everything had gone well, but nobody could really know what the baby would be like until it was born. They didn't even know what sex it was.
"It's like a rabbit," Angel suddenly said, wanted to change the tune of the conversation and break the silence. "A little hopping rabbit."
Harmony smiled. "So that's why it's kicking. I'm going to give birth to a little bunny rabbit."
"Huh, yeah. Hey, have you two thought up any names, yet?"
Harmony shook her head, auburn curls flying. "Not really. We're not great with names. I thought of naming it after one of our parents, but that's just too sad. And after what happened, it's probably not a good omen either. We need a new name. A new name for a new child for a new world."
Angel nodded. "What about Rabbit? Or Bunny Rabbit?"
Harmony raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's... different," she commented. "Certainly new. Huh. I guess we'll have to think about it."
"It's gender neutral too, so that's convenient."
"So it is." Harmony patted her belly. "What do you think of that, little fella? Bunny Rabbit? Do you like that, baby? Do you like being called Rabbit?"
She gasped and let out a small "Ooh!" as the baby kicked in response, before letting out a shrill giggle. "I think it likes it!" she chuckled. "Certainly a good sign. I'll have to talk to Midas, but I like Bunny Rabbit. It's cute, though I think we'll have to shorten it to 'Rabbit' if we have a son."
She smiled at Angel. "Thanks, Ange. I never would have thought of that."
Angel shrugged. "Hey, if it was fate, then you would have thought of it eventually."
Harmony smiled. "True. But still, thank you."
"No problem. Just your friendly neighbourhood child-namer."
Harmony laughed, before sashaying back into the kitchen. "You wanna call Midas back in? He should be finished with the car by now. He's probably just browbeating Ace into giving him a beer."
Angel ran outside. The air was sweet, if tinged slightly by the taste of acid and diesel. Sure enough, Midas was chatting with Acetone, who was laughing and shaking his head.
"Hey, Midas!" Angel called. "Harmony wants you back in."
"Hear that, Midas?" Acetone said jokingly. "Your woman wants you back. Time for you to stop hassling me for that damn beer already, I told ya I got none!"
"Aww, Ace, that belly says otherwise!" Midas pleaded. "C'mon, it can be you and me sitting out in the street, two men having a man's conversation with a couple of cold beers for company! Don't you see my vision?"
"I do, and I'm telling ya – we can sit out here under the stars having men's conversations all we like, and we don't need no beer to do it! So quit hounding me already!"
Midas sighed overdramatically and clutched a hand to his chest. "Ahh, Ace old buddy, you wound me," he cried. "But I won't give up just yet! I'll be back!"
"And I'll be ready with a nice bottle of vinegar to wet your whistle with," Ace said jokingly. "Get your whining ass back to Harmony!"
Midas laughed, throwing an arm around Angel as they walked back to the house. "He'll give in eventually," he said with a smirk. "Now, to check in on my ladies!"
The street was peaceful and happy in the cool evening air. The setting sun cast a perfect lavender-orange sunset over the street, giving the rusty huts an ethereal air. A group of children played in the gutter, cooing over the new toys and sweets Acetone had brought them. Several older people had brought gasoline cans out in front of their doors to have a gander before the sun went down.
All was peaceful, with a friendly, community air. Angel had never felt such a sense of closeness, such a love for a group of virtual strangers. These people were practically family.
As she and Midas entered the house to the warm glow of lit candles and Harmony's caesar salad that she somehow managed to make nice and filling despite their withered ingredients, Angel felt a strong need to remember this moment, to capture it in her memory so she could never forget it.
It was perfect. And she hoped it would stay perfect for as long as possible.