Disclaimer: Swan Jun, Eagle Ken, Condor Joe, Swallow, Jinpei, Owl Ryu and Hakase Nambu belong to Tatsunuko Productions. The lyrics to "Oh Girl" as sung by the Chi-lites have been reproduced without without permission. Everything else in the story is copywrited to me. Please don't sue me, Tatsunuko. I'm just doing my part to keep Gatch-love alive. Anyone who wants to archive this or send copies of this any where, please contact me and get my permission before doing so.
1.
The girl stood staring out of her recently denuded window, her hands propped against her jukebox.
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The sky shone a benign gray. The sun behind the cloud cover paled through, a fuzzy edged disk. The light posts were still dressed up to look like candy-canes and catty-corner to the check-cashing place, artificial evergreen bunting tied off by red velvet wire bows festooned the empty fruit bins of Mr. Kim's grocery. The green plastic matting, beneath the rocks Mr. Kim had used to weigh it down, looked lonely and exposed.
Two women, possibly mother and daughter, walked out of the metro exit and onto the sidewalk. The older one carried a white bag and wore a coat of a soft yellow color. She'd pinned a red ribbon to her lapel and wore metallic green earrings, bells.
The other woman was laughing, dangling a red and beige scarf in her mother's, she had to be her mother's, face. They both had thick lashed eyes, narrow as string. The younger's eyes curved almost shut as she smiled. They looked fresh, their glow intensifying when they spotted Jun staring at them through the window.
They waved.
Jun waved back.
They stood like that, the three, waving at one another, until the daughter took hold of her mother's elbow. In synchrony they inclined their heads. Their mouths moved, also in synchrony.
Reading their lips Jun smiled and bowed as much as the jukebox allowed her; whispering, "Happy New Year," in reply.
Waving, the women turned the corner and passed out of sight.
Jun sighed, then noticed that the sky had brightened a degree. The gold foil, hiding in the red and white twined garland of the streetlight candy-canes glinted at Jun, sharp and sweet.
Those woman had been so nicely dressed, thought Jun, smiling to herself.
She wore old jeans, a much-loved pair that did nothing for her figure, fitting snug around her hips but bagging shapeless over her bottom. Her face was puffy from too much sleep and, a black curl, having escaped the faded red kerchief that held back her hair, grazed her cheek. She looked far more tired than the amount of work she'd accomplished warranted.
She had stuffed the lights, big old fashioned semi-ovoids of red, green, yellow, blue, orange and white, into a cardboard box, carefully put away the cellophane charms that had dangled from the sill and reduced the soap-made snow drifts that had decorated the windows to a bucketful of grimy water.
Her expression wistful, Jun pushed back from the jukebox. Her foot hit the bucket and water sloshed over the side, wetting her tennis shoe. She'd get that later. Loosening her hand enough to release the coin she'd been holding, Jun let it slide down the valley made by her narrowed palm and settle between her index and middle finger.
What, she wondered as she read the display, do I want to listen to? Not Christmas music, she decided as flipped through the play lists. She'd had enough of that in the last few weeks. She was singing, a very old children's song, "One-two-three-FOUR-five..." with a deft twist of her wrist she sent the coin into the slot. Slim fingers punched the familiar number and letter combination, "--six-seven-eight-NINE-ten---" servos whined, "---eleven twelve..." CD's shuffled. She keyed up the volume, wanting this loud.
In anticipation, she started to move, pulling the kerchief from her dark hair, and backed onto the dance floor.
"Jun," she said aloud, as the very first drum beat came on, "you are a romantic fool." She sounded amused. Her eyes closed shut in ecstasy when the harmonica began to play.
She caught up the broom in her hand and began to dance for real.
"Oh girl," crooned the jukebox, "I'd be in trouble if you left me now... "
Shoulders swaying in counterpoint to her hips, hair brushing against her shoulder blades in perfect time with the music, Jun hummed.
"Cause I don't know where to look for love. I just don't know how."
There were some beautiful harmonies meshing behind the dreamy bass line. One of these days she would have to sit down and figure out those cords.
"Oh girl, how I depend on you, to give me love when I need it--"
She stopped dancing.
"Right on time, you will always be,"
Walked over to the jukebox--
"All my friends think--"
Reached around behind it and flicked off the power switch.
It wasn't like she didn't know the rest of the song.
It wasn't like it really applied.
Probably never would apply.
Ken was too-well adjusted for it to apply.
Wonderful song, though. Lazy bass line, lazier drums, lush violins, great piano and incomparable vocals.
The kind song that completed the mind-body circuit, and brought a person straight out of her skin.
Jun's eyebrows gathered into that resigned expression of hers, the one that was almost indistinguishable from her 'I'm trying to think' expression, except her lips quirked upwards at the corners.
Ken was, and would always be, at least until there was no more need for this particular science ninja team, her commander. No, there wasn't a thing in the world that might coax him into her arms, not while he was in full possession of his faculties, at least.
Fraternization and all that.
And 'coax' was such a, such a puny word to describe what she wanted, what she thought she might want, what she... Hoped to do?
Never mind he might not be attracted to her in the first place.
She laughed, a short soft exhalation and leaned her head against her quiet jukebox, the painted metal cool against her cheek. Soothing, almost.
She caressed her music box. She'd worked hard for this jukebox. Almost every CD in there was hers. And there were two thousand, four hundred, and twenty six more in the attic, just as much hers. More music, her adopted brother Jinpei liked to point out, then she could possibly play in a year.
But it was all hers. Every inch of it.
Thanks to Dr. Nambu, she had so much: a roof over her head, a somewhat thriving business, a patron who respected her, honest work, a chance to etch, "Jun was here" across the annals of history... And she had the boys.
Jun smiled for real. She might not have Ken's heart, but she had his love, and that was a very good thing.
One of the best things.
Maybe best of all.
Preparing to stand, she placed her hand against the wall, her eye settling on a bit of very dirty floor that was by the planter. She leaned over and pulled the planter away from the wall, only to blush at what the planter had concealed.
She'd forgotten she could be so silly.
She'd bought it for the holidays, had bound it with red ribbon and attached a loop of string, in tending to hang it.
But she'd chickened out. And now it sat, dirty and discarded, a sprig of poisonous green leaves and dusty white berries.
Mistletoe.