Disclaimer: I don't own Bubblegum Crisis
Warning: Angst, Goodbye
Mindless Babble: This is original BGC, not 2040.
In the newspaper today, there was an editorial letter saying that the ADP is an effective weapon of destruction, but of property, not of Boomer. The author of the letter says the Knight Sabers cause less destruction then the ADP. I had to laugh at this. It was the KS that took out Aqua City and the Boomer testing ground. Another letter stated that the Knight Sabers were wrong in fighting Genom. 'It's against the law' they said. Can't people see that...
Nene looked up from her computer when she heard her phone ring. It was Sylia. She was in full Saber mode, cold, unfeeling, mechanical. Her eyes were void of all life, as was her voice. She was already in her innerwear suit. If Nene didn't know better, she would have sworn that Sylia was a Boomer.
"It's a new one Nene. Get over here as fast as you can." With that, the image blinked out.
Nene sighed and turned off her computer. 'Another Boomer for the others to destroy,' she thought as she closed the door to her apartment.
A few days later, Nene was doing some research on the boomer that had gotten away that night, when the wall across the commutations room of the ADP disappeared into an explosion. When the dust had cleared, the newest of a line of combat boomers stood, bathed in the light of the setting sun. It's red skin reflected the light, making it seemed as if it glowed. The gleam in it's eyes faded then intensified as it took in it's surroundings. After only a moment, it raised it's arm and began to fire.
Nene instinctively dove for the floor. Just seconds before, she had learned the secret of this new Boomer. There was only one spot that was vulnerable. The problem was that she was without any means of attacking. Or so she thought.
From under her stainless steel desk, Nene listened to the moans of pain and pieces of the wall from the hole falling to join the rubble on the floor. It was then that she realized that the Boomer had stopped firing. Then the young hacker heard a sound that seemed to make her blood run cold; Naoko crying and pleading for her life.
In an instant, Nene had leaped onto the metal gargoyle's back and was hitting it with her small fists. The Boomer reached behind itself and started returning the hits. It finally grabbed the girl, throwing her to the ground. Nene twisted in a move that would have made a cat green wit envy, and landed on her feet and one hand. With that hand, she grabbed a sharp piece of shrapnel. Ducking under a swinging arm, Nene once again attached herself to the Boomer. She quickly found the spot and without hesitation, plunged the shrapnel into its neck.
Leon and Daley arrived in time to witness the death of the Boomer. If Kami-sama had appeared and told him that Priss would marry Leon and Genom would fall within the hour, they could not have been more surprised to see the destroyer of the Boomer.
The room had been filled with people. It was now filled with death and pain. In the middle of the room, Nene stood over the Boomer, the long, sharp piece of shrapnel in its neck. Her uniform was in tatters. Blood flowed down her arms and on to the remains of the Boomer. Her breath came in rapid gasps and her chest heaved.
Leon sprinted across the room and caught Nene just before she hit the floor. He knelt and turned her onto her back. He brushed the blood soaked hair from her face. A glance down at her body told him the young girl would probably die in his arms. It was obvious that the Boomer's claws and bullets had landed some major hits. Blood seemed to blanket Nene and the green eyes that always seemed to laugh were dull and unfocused. Leon hated the thought that another warrior would slip into the last stage of life while he held her. Like Jeena.
Nene looked up at the man that held her and whispered, "See, Mackie, I can fight too. Just as good as Priss or Linna."
"Yeah, you did great, Nene," Leon choked out.
"We're proud of you," added Daley, who knelt down across from his partner. He took her hand in both of his, surprised at how cold it was.
Nene smiled and sighed in contentment. She closed her eyes as her last breath left her. Her head fell back and the small body went limp. Leon laid the body on the floor and
allowed himself a moment to mourn the life that had been cut so short, before standing to help the surviving wounded.
Later that day, the Hot Legs showcased Priss and the lead singer finished her act and walked over to the bar. The news of Nene's death had hit her hard. It had hurt more then she thought it would. It was like living through her boyfriend's death all over again. As a consequence, the concert had been terrible. Her music had always been her comfort, but tonight, as she sang, memories flashed before her. Nene getting drunk. Nene failing her level again. Her rescuing Nene time and time again. Nene's smile and bright eyes at the end of a concert. Priss had fled the stage in tears.
Priss ordered her usual and looked around. Her gaze came to rest on a slumped figure on the other end of the bar. Priss felt that she had seen that denim jacket somewhere else. And the brown hair, too.
"How long has that guy been here?" she asked the bar keep.
"Oh, enough for him to have about six too many," came the reply. "He's been here since before your show."
Priss walked over to the unconscious figure. The man had passed out face down still holding his half full mug. Priss grabbed the back of his jacket and pulled.
"Leon!"
The man in question didn't even respond. His eyes were glazed over and his mouth hung open. The beginnings of a beard were speckled across his pale face. The thick brown hair was a tangled mess.
"Put what ever he owes on my tab and make sure he doesn't leave. I have to change and make a phone call."
"I'll watch him but I don't think he'll be able to move any time soon," replied the bar keep, looking at the stone drunk inspector.
Priss sighed, nodding in agreement. She walked to her dressing room and changed into her motorcycling leathers. Then she placed a call to Linna and got her answering machine. With great reluctance, she called Sylia's number. Mackie answered.
"Mackie, pardon me for saying so, but you look like shit!" Mackie had dark circles under his eyes his dark hair bore a more then a passing resemblance to Leon's.
"Gee, thanks Priss. You're not looking so hot yourself, you know."
"Sorry. Is Sylia there?" asked Priss, running her hand through her hair in a vain attempt to straighten it out.
"Just a sec..."
Sylia's face appeared on the screen and Priss felt mildly irritated. Sylia looked as she had for as long as Priss had known her. Perfect hair. Perfect dress. Perfect Sylia.
"Priss, what's the problem?" The retothrash singer had never made a social call in her life, so there had to be a problem.
"I need to ask you for a favor. Leon is drunk and I can't get him back to his apartment by myself. I tried to call Linna, but she's not at home. Would it be possible to get a ride?"
Sylia smiled and said, "I thought you were going to report that a stray Boomer had torn down the Hot Legs. Of course I'll come."
"T...thank you, Sylia," Priss stuttered in amazement.
A half an hour later, the van that normally carried the Motoslaves parked in front of the club. Priss stood there with Leon's arm over her shoulder and her arm around his waist, supporting him. Priss' jaw dropped when she saw the truck.
Linna jumped out the passenger side and helped Priss with Leon. "I was at Sylia's apartment when you called. She suggested that we bring the truck to take yours and Leon's bike with us."
"Oh."
Priss pointed out the two bikes to Makie, who carefully loaded them into the truck. Linna and Priss had managed to get Leon in the back seat and were waiting for Makie. He squeezed into the drivers seat next to his sister and asked a good question.
"Where does Leon live?"
Priss turned to ask the one person that would know automatically and found her missing. Choking back a sob she dug into a pocket and pulled out a card. It was Leon's business card. On the back, he had written his home address. She handed it to Sylia. The trip was done in a mournful silence.
Sylia opened the door with the key taken from Leon's pocket. Priss and Linna staggered in carrying their burden between them. Sylia finally found the light switch behind a pile of boxes and flipped it. She gasped as she turned around.
"He lives like this?" Sylia asked, indicating the piles of boxes, take out packages and books. Never had she seen a mess like this. Not even Priss was this messy.
Linna and Priss stared at the boxes that served as tables and the cluttered sofa. A mixture of emotions showed on their faces. For Priss it was humor and astonishment. Linna was horrified and puzzled.
"Where does he sleep?" she asked.
It took a few minutes before Sylia found the bed behind a stack of boxes. The two friends dropped the inspector on the mattress and pulled off his boots. Sylia left to see if she could find some herbal tea, taking Linna with her. Priss found a sheet on the floor and draped it over him. It was when she brushed the stray hairs from his face that she realized something was wrong.
"Sylia!"
"What is it, Priss?" she asked as she walked into the room. Sylia knelt next to Priss and placed a hand on Leon's forehead. It was hot to the touch. "He probably got something that was pass it's expression date and was too drunk to notice. Linna, would you please get a bowl of cool water and a cloth?"
"It may take some time to find that stuff," she replied from the door. She held a box of tea bags and a hot pot.
"Priss. Go with her. I'll take care of the inspector until you get back," Sylia said, as a look of panic crossed Priss' face.
The two girl wondered off to find the requested items. Sylia looked at the young man before her. "She loves you, you know." she whispered, pulling down the sheet and taking off his jacket and shirt.
Several minutes later, Linna and Priss came in carrying a bowl of water and a torn piece of cloth. Sylia lifted an eyebrow, thinking that the cloth might be all that remained of one of Leon's shirts. Priss unzipped her motorcycling outfit to reveal a torn T-shirt.
Sylia dipped the cloth in the water and gently washed the inspectors chest. She remembered the many times she had done the same thing with Mackie and smiled. "We'll need to keep him cool."
"I'll stay with him," Priss said a little too quickly. A blush passed over her face. "I mean, if that's what he needs...er... someone to watch over him..."
"That's very nice of you to volunteer, Priss." Sylia dipped the cloth in the bowl, wrung it out and placed it on Leon's forehead. "I'll clear off the couch so you can get some sleep after his fever breaks."
"Thanks Sylia...for everything."
Sylia smiled, turned and walked out of the room with Linna. A few minutes later, Priss heard the door of the apartment close. She turned her attention to the ADP inspector.
"I guess it's just you and me now," Priss whispered. She looked up on a shelf and had to smile. All alone on the shelf, was the cup she had asked him to throw away the day they met at Funy Day.
Later, Priss was dosing off on the floor next to the bed when Leon started having fever dreams. It was then that the singer learned what had driven the highly respected inspector to get so drunk.
"Nene..."
Priss took his hand and cried.
He stood in a place where reality and dreams mixed together, but neither existed. Below him were the stars or were they the clouds? He couldn't quite tell. Above him was an immense void. There was no air surrounding him, but he did not lack for air. There was a warmth around him, yet he was cold.
A voice whispered his name. He tried to follow it, but could not move. Why was he so weak? Had it been the voice that had sounded so familiar, yet so different?
The voice called again, closer this time. The man had known that voice when... When was it? He needed to know, before...Before what?
The man forced himself to turn around. The vision before him seemed somehow familiar. It was a female with wide green eyes. Wings like those of a large dove, flowed from her small back. A gown of the purist white surrounded the tiny body like a second skin. It took the man a moment to realize she was just a young girl, not yet a woman. It was also then that he recognized her.
"Nene..."
"Hello, Leon. You shouldn't be here."
"But... how? I watched you die while I held you. That Boomer..."
"Yes, Leon. I did die. But I didn't leave you. I will never leave you, the ADP, or the Knight Sabers."
"What? I don't understand."
"I have been given a job, Leon. It is to protect and help all those who fight for justice. So long as people like you or the Knight Sabers exist, I will be there. That is a promise that will last forever." Nene reached out to brush her fingers across his cheek. "It is time for you to go back, my friend. Priss is worried. If you ever need me or question the good your doing, just call to me. I will be there."
"Priss?"
"Leon! You're awake! How do you feel?"
Leon thought for a moment and said, "Awful. What happened?"
"What's the last thing you remember?" Priss asked.
"Starting on my third beer. From then on, things get a little fuzzy." He sat up and instantly wished he hadn't.
"You passed out after drinking something you shouldn't. Some friends and I brought you back here, to your apartment. We found that you had a high fever and I've spent the last..." she checked her watch, "the last ten hours trying to break it."
"I saw Nene... and ...she said that she would always protect people like you and the ADP..."
Priss sat down on the edge of the bed and took Leon's hand. "What you saw was a fever dream. It wasn't real."
"But I saw her...she was an angel... and she told me..."
Priss stroked his flushed face. "Leon. Nene is dead"
The inspector sighed. "It just seemed so real."
"I know. Try to get some sleep," Priss said, as she gently pushed Leon back to the pillow. "I'll be on the couch, Okay?"
Leon had passed out as soon as his head touched the pillow. Priss pulled the sheet over his shoulders and turned to leave. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a flash of red hair and laughing green eyes. When she looked, something shiny caught her eye. She picked it up. The object was an ADP badge. It wasn't Leon's, the number was wrong. Yet it was familiar. It had once been worn by Nene Romanova.
"Now how did this get here?" Priss wondered aloud. She looked at the Leon, then back to the badge. Then she looked up and back at the badge. "Naw... it couldn't be." She looked at Leon once again. "Could it?"
