Author: Imo-chan (who has too many fics going)
Title: Caramel Baby
Disclaimers: Duo, Heero, Wu and the rest of th' gang are not mine. I want them, but they're not mine. Neither is Relena. I can't tell yet whether that's a good thing or a bad thing… ^^ we'll see...
However, the poem/song-thing *is* mine. I can't see why anyone would want it… but, really, I don't like thieves in general (unless they have three- foot braids, pretty violet eyes and a fetish for blue-eyed japanese. ^^;;)
Pairings: 5xR.
...
Ehhhhhhhhhheheheheheee… ^____________^
...
Warnings: HET (Translation: non-yaoi *gasp*), Romance, WAFF, POV
Notes: Well, SkyEye was the one who prompted me into thinking about seriously writing 5xR (or is that Rx5? ^_~) and I really don't know where this came from. The poem (under the same title as the fic) started it, I think (a lot of my fics start like that), and it was originally gonna be a *really* short 2x5... but then I changed my mind – because SkyE made me see the wonders of a little het now and then *gryn*... and it ended up like this.
SkyE-dear... this is for you. And you know it's all your fault.
1 -----------
Caramel Baby
-----------
spin spin spin spin
sugar sweet
sugar spin
talk me in circles
dizzy fizzy pepperminty swirl
leaves me gummybear-giddy
as your words
little sour-drop, lemon-drops
flavour shots
spin me
head over heels over hunny over
you
and you sugar you
make me forget, only
you
and you sweet you
could be so caramel beautiful
-- excerpt from 'Caramel Baby'
--- Part 1 ---
You arrive at 25 minutes before launch, 5 minutes before boarding. Which is just before Duo begins to get fidgety, just before Heero begins his grouch-monster act, and just before I was going to give in to my craving and buy a package of gummy bears from the convenience stand across from the waiting area. The doors slide open, announcing your arrival with a tinny chime and Duo launches himself from his seat with a yelp of happiness, sprinting around the rows of chairs, crushing you in a fierce hug before releasing you; waving his arms animatedly around and around, like midnight- coloured windmills, as he talks.
You, needless to say, look tolerant, albeit a bit frightened.
I glance sideways at Heero, who – calm as ever – is still seated beside me. I wonder if he really *is* that calm inside; he's the one who has to spend 14 hours in a shuttle with Duo Maxwell.
He catches my eye and I smile as I ask, "Are you sure you can handle him?"
"Tranquilizers," he says, fully monotone, patting the front of his Preventers jacket.
I don't want to know if he's joking.
"Yuy," you say as way of greeting as Heero stands to meet you.
"You're a little late," Heero says in reply, reaching into his jacket pocket for a disk.
"I'm on time," you say stiffly.
"Naa… Chang… You're late!" Says Duo laughingly, one arm slung over Heero's shoulder. "We hafta be on the shuttle, like now!"
You glance at your watch as you take the disk from Heero's hand. "No. You have three minutes until boarding. I'm on time."
Duo pokes you in the chest. "You're cutting it close, though. Doncha think the Vice-Foreign Minister deserves a little more respect?" he winks at me over Heero's shoulder. I resist the urge to stick out my tongue.
"Hn," you say, not looking at me. In fact, I'm a little indignant that you haven't acknowledged me yet. "Is this everything?" You ask of Heero.
He nods. "Schedules, planners, speeches and security information for city residence, country residence, and workplace."
Duo smirks. "What to wear, where to go, what to eat! Geez, 'Lena, I never knew Heero treated you like such a freakin' //mission//…" he laughs, and I have to smile back. "I *fear* the day he becomes a parent! He'd be like an obsessive-compulsive King Kong on spee-"
He's cut off as Heero elegantly elbows him in the ribs. "Baka. No worries, *you're* the one who wanted to adopt. *You* will do the parenting."
"We'll see~e…" Duo wags a finger in front of his face as he singsongs.
You snort. "Are you done?"
Duo flips you off. "Yah, yah, I know. Oop! That's us!" he says as a metallic voice crackles through the waiting area:
"Shuttle 1892 to colony cluster L1 – Colony II27982C now boarding through Gate 48. Please make sure you have all your baggage and boarding passes."
He swoops down and kisses me on the cheek. "Take of yourself 'Lena! Don't let Chang near the stash of chocolate almonds in yer office fridge," he whispers conspiratorially. "He's a sucker for sweet stuff."
I laugh and glance over his head. You certainly don't look as though you'd be a 'sucker' for anything - frown deeper than Heero's; your arms crossed uninvitingly over your chest.
"Tell Une and Marie I say hello, and wish them well," I say to Heero as he also bends to kiss me goodbye.
"We will," he says. "Wufei has everything you should need, but call if there's a problem."
"Yes, mother."
"Funny, Relena," he snorts, and picks up his bag before turning and walking towards Duo, who's blowing us goodbye kisses from the terminal gateway. He grabs Heero's hand and they disappear into the long hallway.
"Where is your transportation?" You ask, turning away and slipping the disk into your jacket pocket even before the gateway doors have slid closed. Your eyes have not yet met mine.
"Pargan has the car parked just outsi – " I begin, feeling a bit slighted, and you wave me off.
"Fine. We will leave now. I will follow you back to your residence on my own." You turn and walk away.
I suddenly begin to miss Heero very much. He seems like a veritable ray of sunshine – at least compared to you.
* * * * * * * *
"Miss Relena, is that the young man who will be replacing Mr.Yuy while he is away getting Miss. Une settled in on the colonies?" Pargan asks. I can see his forehead furrowing in the rear-view mirror as he catches a glance of you roaring along just behind us as we enter the driveway.
"Yes, Pargan, it is," I reply, trying not to let the sigh slip too much into my voice.
Pargan 'herr-umphs' quietly, pulling up to the steps outside the house and stopping the car. I wait, as I always do, and think nothing of it – Heero always opens the door for me. But you swing your legs over your motorcycle, like a funny old-west cowboy – cold expression, stiff swagger, and take the stairs two at a time.
You aren't doing your job very well.
I wait for you to notice that I'm not behind you, and finally, as you reach the large, oaken doors at the top of the stairs, you turn. Your face is perplexed; annoyed, and your eyes are asking, quite clearly: "What the HELL are you doing and what the HELL do you want?"
I quell the urge to growl under my breath.
Cretin.
I miss Heero.
You don't move. You just //stand// there, looking annoyed, as if I was a bratty child; a younger sister you were made to take along with you when you went to visit your friends. I won't give your unrefined nastiness the satisfaction of triumph. So I stare you down.
You make it known to me in the first three seconds that you could do this for a very long time, and that //you// really don't care if I miss my appointment with the Governing Official of L1-XXII1194, but that //he// might.
Cretin.
I really miss Heero.
With a sharp sigh, I open the car door as delicately as possible and make sure not to slam it when it closes. Folding my hands neatly in front of me, I smile at you as sweetly as possible.
I'm not angry.
I'm not angry.
I can survive kidnapping, rampaging robots, civil uprising, royalty, I can survive one bratty, small-minded, anti-social, loutish boy.
I'm not angry.
You glare and stalk into the open doorway, leaving me in the dust as Pargan drives off.
God, I miss Heero.
And really, I'm very angry.
* * * * * * *
"Well, Mr. Gordon, I can honestly say that this is a very sound proposal. If you could get your aides to send me a few more details on the west-end wing housing project – I'm still a little unclear with that – I could get started on approving the financial loan as soon as next week," I say, smiling as I hand Mr. Gordon the package.
"Thank you, Minister," he smiles. "That would be wonderful." His smile always makes him look very nasty – like an octopus. I've always thought of him as an octopus, which I find quite strange, because I don't think octopi have the ability to smile.
Neither do you, apparently. Sullen and threatening (for god's sake, Mr. Gordon is sixty-eight years old!), leaning up against the doorjamb, eyes half-closed – but I can see your unwavering, cold, unfriendly stare focused on the desk where Mr. Gordon and I are conversing.
" – will be a wonderful contribution to the bustling life of the new quarter! I thank you again," Mr. Gordon extends his hand as I manage to catch the end of his speech. Keeping my smile neutral, we shake, and your eyes do not leave him as he hobbles out the door.
I sink back into my chair, grateful for a //few// moments of peace, at least. Picking up the report, I take out my reading glasses and place them on my nose. I have a few minutes before I have another appointment; perhaps if I tried to clear up the awkward bits now, I'd have more time for relaxation la-
"I would not have approved that proposal."
"Excuse me?" I'm incredulous, more out of the fact that you started a conversation with me then anything else, and I peer at you over the top of the report, raising my eyebrows. You have not changed position, although now I can see that your eyes are downcast.
"I would not have approved that proposal."
"And why not?" I ask, stuck somewhere awkwardly between confusion, anger and interest.
You snort. God, what an awful, demeaning sound. "The colonies are not asking for new quarters in which these rich, ignorant, earth-brats can buy up summer homes and weekend retreats. We are repairing from a war – the colonists were hit harder than //anyone// else. You should be focusing on rebuilding the areas that already exist – the ones that have fallen into a state of dilapidation, that are poor and crumbling because parents have died, because there is famine, and because no one has enough money for Mr. Gordon's 'gorgeous' west-end development."
Despite the fact that you are now actually addressing me as a human being, and that this //is// the most I've heard you say yet, I don't feel satisfied in any way. Fancy that. In fact, I feel that unnervingly indescribable, frighteningly quick and irrational anger rise up into my throat and push the words out before I can stop them.
"As I recall – Wufei? – Heero did not ask you to do my job for me. He asked you to do his."
You look startled, then extremely angry, and you mutter something under your breath as you turn away.
"What was that?" I ask, saccharine, settling my glasses in their case.
"You have to be at the International Conference Hall in forty-three minutes," you snap. "I will ask the driver to prepare the car."
"Pargan's ready at any time, he really doesn't need any prepar- "
"I will ask the driver to prepare the car."
And you disappear out the door, your heavy footsteps thumping and echoing.
Goddammit... now I have a headache.
* * * * * * *
^-^ Well? I'm not usually a het person, but this pairing is so much damn fun!~ It's like Quatre and Dorothy... only not quite as scary and potentially lethal. ^-^
Title: Caramel Baby
Disclaimers: Duo, Heero, Wu and the rest of th' gang are not mine. I want them, but they're not mine. Neither is Relena. I can't tell yet whether that's a good thing or a bad thing… ^^ we'll see...
However, the poem/song-thing *is* mine. I can't see why anyone would want it… but, really, I don't like thieves in general (unless they have three- foot braids, pretty violet eyes and a fetish for blue-eyed japanese. ^^;;)
Pairings: 5xR.
...
Ehhhhhhhhhheheheheheee… ^____________^
...
Warnings: HET (Translation: non-yaoi *gasp*), Romance, WAFF, POV
Notes: Well, SkyEye was the one who prompted me into thinking about seriously writing 5xR (or is that Rx5? ^_~) and I really don't know where this came from. The poem (under the same title as the fic) started it, I think (a lot of my fics start like that), and it was originally gonna be a *really* short 2x5... but then I changed my mind – because SkyE made me see the wonders of a little het now and then *gryn*... and it ended up like this.
SkyE-dear... this is for you. And you know it's all your fault.
1 -----------
Caramel Baby
-----------
spin spin spin spin
sugar sweet
sugar spin
talk me in circles
dizzy fizzy pepperminty swirl
leaves me gummybear-giddy
as your words
little sour-drop, lemon-drops
flavour shots
spin me
head over heels over hunny over
you
and you sugar you
make me forget, only
you
and you sweet you
could be so caramel beautiful
-- excerpt from 'Caramel Baby'
--- Part 1 ---
You arrive at 25 minutes before launch, 5 minutes before boarding. Which is just before Duo begins to get fidgety, just before Heero begins his grouch-monster act, and just before I was going to give in to my craving and buy a package of gummy bears from the convenience stand across from the waiting area. The doors slide open, announcing your arrival with a tinny chime and Duo launches himself from his seat with a yelp of happiness, sprinting around the rows of chairs, crushing you in a fierce hug before releasing you; waving his arms animatedly around and around, like midnight- coloured windmills, as he talks.
You, needless to say, look tolerant, albeit a bit frightened.
I glance sideways at Heero, who – calm as ever – is still seated beside me. I wonder if he really *is* that calm inside; he's the one who has to spend 14 hours in a shuttle with Duo Maxwell.
He catches my eye and I smile as I ask, "Are you sure you can handle him?"
"Tranquilizers," he says, fully monotone, patting the front of his Preventers jacket.
I don't want to know if he's joking.
"Yuy," you say as way of greeting as Heero stands to meet you.
"You're a little late," Heero says in reply, reaching into his jacket pocket for a disk.
"I'm on time," you say stiffly.
"Naa… Chang… You're late!" Says Duo laughingly, one arm slung over Heero's shoulder. "We hafta be on the shuttle, like now!"
You glance at your watch as you take the disk from Heero's hand. "No. You have three minutes until boarding. I'm on time."
Duo pokes you in the chest. "You're cutting it close, though. Doncha think the Vice-Foreign Minister deserves a little more respect?" he winks at me over Heero's shoulder. I resist the urge to stick out my tongue.
"Hn," you say, not looking at me. In fact, I'm a little indignant that you haven't acknowledged me yet. "Is this everything?" You ask of Heero.
He nods. "Schedules, planners, speeches and security information for city residence, country residence, and workplace."
Duo smirks. "What to wear, where to go, what to eat! Geez, 'Lena, I never knew Heero treated you like such a freakin' //mission//…" he laughs, and I have to smile back. "I *fear* the day he becomes a parent! He'd be like an obsessive-compulsive King Kong on spee-"
He's cut off as Heero elegantly elbows him in the ribs. "Baka. No worries, *you're* the one who wanted to adopt. *You* will do the parenting."
"We'll see~e…" Duo wags a finger in front of his face as he singsongs.
You snort. "Are you done?"
Duo flips you off. "Yah, yah, I know. Oop! That's us!" he says as a metallic voice crackles through the waiting area:
"Shuttle 1892 to colony cluster L1 – Colony II27982C now boarding through Gate 48. Please make sure you have all your baggage and boarding passes."
He swoops down and kisses me on the cheek. "Take of yourself 'Lena! Don't let Chang near the stash of chocolate almonds in yer office fridge," he whispers conspiratorially. "He's a sucker for sweet stuff."
I laugh and glance over his head. You certainly don't look as though you'd be a 'sucker' for anything - frown deeper than Heero's; your arms crossed uninvitingly over your chest.
"Tell Une and Marie I say hello, and wish them well," I say to Heero as he also bends to kiss me goodbye.
"We will," he says. "Wufei has everything you should need, but call if there's a problem."
"Yes, mother."
"Funny, Relena," he snorts, and picks up his bag before turning and walking towards Duo, who's blowing us goodbye kisses from the terminal gateway. He grabs Heero's hand and they disappear into the long hallway.
"Where is your transportation?" You ask, turning away and slipping the disk into your jacket pocket even before the gateway doors have slid closed. Your eyes have not yet met mine.
"Pargan has the car parked just outsi – " I begin, feeling a bit slighted, and you wave me off.
"Fine. We will leave now. I will follow you back to your residence on my own." You turn and walk away.
I suddenly begin to miss Heero very much. He seems like a veritable ray of sunshine – at least compared to you.
* * * * * * * *
"Miss Relena, is that the young man who will be replacing Mr.Yuy while he is away getting Miss. Une settled in on the colonies?" Pargan asks. I can see his forehead furrowing in the rear-view mirror as he catches a glance of you roaring along just behind us as we enter the driveway.
"Yes, Pargan, it is," I reply, trying not to let the sigh slip too much into my voice.
Pargan 'herr-umphs' quietly, pulling up to the steps outside the house and stopping the car. I wait, as I always do, and think nothing of it – Heero always opens the door for me. But you swing your legs over your motorcycle, like a funny old-west cowboy – cold expression, stiff swagger, and take the stairs two at a time.
You aren't doing your job very well.
I wait for you to notice that I'm not behind you, and finally, as you reach the large, oaken doors at the top of the stairs, you turn. Your face is perplexed; annoyed, and your eyes are asking, quite clearly: "What the HELL are you doing and what the HELL do you want?"
I quell the urge to growl under my breath.
Cretin.
I miss Heero.
You don't move. You just //stand// there, looking annoyed, as if I was a bratty child; a younger sister you were made to take along with you when you went to visit your friends. I won't give your unrefined nastiness the satisfaction of triumph. So I stare you down.
You make it known to me in the first three seconds that you could do this for a very long time, and that //you// really don't care if I miss my appointment with the Governing Official of L1-XXII1194, but that //he// might.
Cretin.
I really miss Heero.
With a sharp sigh, I open the car door as delicately as possible and make sure not to slam it when it closes. Folding my hands neatly in front of me, I smile at you as sweetly as possible.
I'm not angry.
I'm not angry.
I can survive kidnapping, rampaging robots, civil uprising, royalty, I can survive one bratty, small-minded, anti-social, loutish boy.
I'm not angry.
You glare and stalk into the open doorway, leaving me in the dust as Pargan drives off.
God, I miss Heero.
And really, I'm very angry.
* * * * * * *
"Well, Mr. Gordon, I can honestly say that this is a very sound proposal. If you could get your aides to send me a few more details on the west-end wing housing project – I'm still a little unclear with that – I could get started on approving the financial loan as soon as next week," I say, smiling as I hand Mr. Gordon the package.
"Thank you, Minister," he smiles. "That would be wonderful." His smile always makes him look very nasty – like an octopus. I've always thought of him as an octopus, which I find quite strange, because I don't think octopi have the ability to smile.
Neither do you, apparently. Sullen and threatening (for god's sake, Mr. Gordon is sixty-eight years old!), leaning up against the doorjamb, eyes half-closed – but I can see your unwavering, cold, unfriendly stare focused on the desk where Mr. Gordon and I are conversing.
" – will be a wonderful contribution to the bustling life of the new quarter! I thank you again," Mr. Gordon extends his hand as I manage to catch the end of his speech. Keeping my smile neutral, we shake, and your eyes do not leave him as he hobbles out the door.
I sink back into my chair, grateful for a //few// moments of peace, at least. Picking up the report, I take out my reading glasses and place them on my nose. I have a few minutes before I have another appointment; perhaps if I tried to clear up the awkward bits now, I'd have more time for relaxation la-
"I would not have approved that proposal."
"Excuse me?" I'm incredulous, more out of the fact that you started a conversation with me then anything else, and I peer at you over the top of the report, raising my eyebrows. You have not changed position, although now I can see that your eyes are downcast.
"I would not have approved that proposal."
"And why not?" I ask, stuck somewhere awkwardly between confusion, anger and interest.
You snort. God, what an awful, demeaning sound. "The colonies are not asking for new quarters in which these rich, ignorant, earth-brats can buy up summer homes and weekend retreats. We are repairing from a war – the colonists were hit harder than //anyone// else. You should be focusing on rebuilding the areas that already exist – the ones that have fallen into a state of dilapidation, that are poor and crumbling because parents have died, because there is famine, and because no one has enough money for Mr. Gordon's 'gorgeous' west-end development."
Despite the fact that you are now actually addressing me as a human being, and that this //is// the most I've heard you say yet, I don't feel satisfied in any way. Fancy that. In fact, I feel that unnervingly indescribable, frighteningly quick and irrational anger rise up into my throat and push the words out before I can stop them.
"As I recall – Wufei? – Heero did not ask you to do my job for me. He asked you to do his."
You look startled, then extremely angry, and you mutter something under your breath as you turn away.
"What was that?" I ask, saccharine, settling my glasses in their case.
"You have to be at the International Conference Hall in forty-three minutes," you snap. "I will ask the driver to prepare the car."
"Pargan's ready at any time, he really doesn't need any prepar- "
"I will ask the driver to prepare the car."
And you disappear out the door, your heavy footsteps thumping and echoing.
Goddammit... now I have a headache.
* * * * * * *
^-^ Well? I'm not usually a het person, but this pairing is so much damn fun!~ It's like Quatre and Dorothy... only not quite as scary and potentially lethal. ^-^