Melting Ice
Chapter One
By: Opal Soul
Disclaimer: Do you *think* I'm talented enough to own Gundam Wing?
I sighed, slumping tiredly into the velvet plane seat. I stared fixedly at the screen in front of me. I hadn't bothered to take the headphone set out of its plastic bag, and the silence was eerily calming. A knot tangled and untangled itself in my stomach as the hurt on Tom Hanks' face became evident. Tears formed in my eyes; they had nothing to do with Meg Ryan. My fists clenched the blanket covering my lap. No. I won't think of it.
Turning my head to the side, I thought of Chicago and the cousin I had never met. Now he, whoever and whatever he was, had agreed to take me in. The tears spilled over.
"Mommy? Daddy?" I called, opening the door. My head snuck into the room happily. "I'm home."
The house was eerily silent. "Mommy? Daddy?" Cautiously I entered the room.
And screamed.
Blood was everywhere-- staining the white carpet, the white walls, even the white hair of my dog. My mother was slumped over my father. Their clothing was stained a dark red, as evil and vibrant as the rest of the room.
"My God," I whispered. "Dear God, what happened?
********
"Why do I have to go to the airport with you?" Heero grumbled.
His best friend shifted impatiently in the driver's seat of the Mercedes. "I've never taken care of a little girl before, Heero."
"Like I have," Heero muttered darkly.
"What was that?"
"Nothing." Heero cleared his throat. "So, Duo, do you know anything about your cousin?"
Duo shook his head. "Nope. Not really. I just know her name."
"What is it?"
Duo shrugged, intent on the road. "Tammy, I think."
Heero snorted. "What kind of a name is that?"
Duo's glare was icy. "And what about your own?"
Heero's grin became arrogant. "It's perfect," he said.
"Yeah, yeah," Duo broke in, sounding bored. His voice rose, mimicking his friend's numerous mistresses. "Ooh, yes, yes *my* Heero, ooh, yes, do it right there . . . ooh, Heero, you're my hero!" He finished with a puckering of his lips.
Heero's laugh was cynical. "Nice try," he said dryly. "I don't swing that way."
Duo's laugh was genuine. "Who's your flavor of the week?"
"Two weeks," Heero corrected.
Duo's left eyebrow lifted mockingly. "Gomen," he said humbly. "*Two* weeks. You're slipping, Heero. Soon you'll be pushing lifetime commitment."
Heero snorted again. "That'll be the day."
Duo laughed his agreement. "Seriously, who is it?"
"Relena," he said.
Duo's eyes widened. "Relena? That whore?"
"Watch it," Heero warned.
Duo's cobalt blue eyes sparkled.
Heero tried to steer the conversation away from himself. "So anyway, what kind of a name is that?"
"Relena?"
"No, Tammy, or whatever," Heero snapped.
"Well," Duo said, "when she's not a little girl any more, she'll break some hearts."
"How do you know?" Heero asked, curious. "You haven't even seen her. You don't even know if she is a little girl."
"I think she's a little girl because every damn person I've talked to has said she's adorably cute, impulsive, and mischievous. If that doesn't spell little girl, I don't know what does," Duo explained. "As for how I know, her name is perfect for her."
Heero shook his finger mockingly. "Oh?"
"It *means* perfect."
********
I sighed, absently twirling the ends of my curling black hair. It reached halfway down my back and waved happily, contradicting my own mood. The smile that used to rest on my face habitually was no where in sight. Cupping my chin in my hands, I stared dejectedly around the airport terminal. Where is he? I wondered impatiently. Duo, I think it was?
"I'm sorry, Miss Maxwell," the agent said, "about your parents." Her slightly wrinkled hands played with each other on top of a stack of folders and documents. "Your cousin, Duo Maxwell, has agreed to let you live with him."
Right away I felt apprehension biting my insides. "Duo Maxwell?" I repeated. "Who's he?"
"He lives in Chicago."
"Nani?" I asked. "Chicago? Why? Is he married? Does he have children? How old is he? Is he responsible?"
The agent chuckled softly, gently patting my clenched fists. "Relax, child. He's an extremely responsible selfmade millionaire with complexes and houses all over the world. It just happens that he lives in Chicago at the time."
I sat back in my chair, shocked. "A . . . millionaire?"
She nodded. "He's not married yet, has no children, and-- " She checked her records. "He's twenty-one."
"Twenty-one?" I got up with a bang, knocking into the pens on her desk.
She winced. "Twenty-one," she repeated reassuringly.
"He's selfmade?"
"Yes," she said. "He and his friend-- Heero Yuy-- started enterprising when they were fourteen. Their summers were filled with business and classes, and they both graduated at sixteen. Since then they've made themselves into the prestigious and rising Globe Enterprises."
"Globe Enterprises," I whispered reverently. "I'm related to *him?*"
"Hai," she chuckled.
"And me, I'm going to live with a twenty-one year old? A guy who just came of age?"
"You don't really have a choice," she said kindly. "You're underage."
"I could take care of myself," I argued, lying.
"Hai," she said mildly. "Maybe you could. But the maybe is what decides your fate, child." She snapped my folder shut resolutely. "And that's what made the decision for you."
I looked up again, scanning the room. Too short, too fat, too old, too ugly, I thought to myself, watching the men around the room. I fingered the picture in my lap.
"Excuse me, miss," a deep voice said. "Have you seen a little girl running around?"
I turned reluctantly to the speaker, and my breath caught in my throat. He was my picture. I swallowed, shook my head, and whispered, "Duo Maxwell?"
The man standing next to my cousin scowled at me. "Not another golddigger," he mumbled.
I shot him an icy glare, then directed my gaze back at the bored, but not unkind, boy watching me warily. Hesitantly I lifted the picture and slowly brought it in front of my face. "You're my cousin?" I managed.
"Who are you?" the other man snapped.
Turning my attention back to him, I stuck my tongue out momentarily. "Your worse nightmare," I said, trying to sound intimidating.
"Do you have proof?" Duo asked.
My mind drew a blank and I chewed my lip. Nervously I tugged at the chain around my neck. "Uh . . . my parents died a . . . a month ago and Mrs. Whalen said to come here, to America, and live with . . . you, my cousin." My blue eyes turned pleadingly to him, begging him to see that I was telling the truth. "Please, please, you have to believe me," I begged, a lump forming in my throat. "I . . . I have no where else to go."
Silently Duo hunkered next to my chair. Gently taking my passport from me, he smiled kindly and checked it.
"Well?" his friend asked.
"My God, Heero," Duo said. "The little girl *already* grew up."
I looked questioningly at him.
He laughed, hugging me sideways. "We thought you were six," he explained.
I pretended to be angry. "Well, I'm *sorry* I'm not what you wanted," I said huffily.
He laughed and squeezed my arm. "That's okay," he said. "You're perfect just the way you are."
"Like hell she is," Heero muttered sulkily.
"What was that?" Duo asked sharply.
"Nothing," Heero said. "Just-- what are you going to do with all the toys you bought for her? Somehow I don't think she'll like Barney very much."
My chin rose defiantly and my tongue came to greet him again. "Don't go dissing purple dinosaurs," I warned. "It's the pot calling the kettle black."
Duo laughed again. "Heero, she's got you there."
"Except you're a *black* dinosaur," I added sweetly, looking up at him through eyelashes. "A grumpy one at that."
********
"Heero," Duo hissed. His cousin had fallen asleep in the car, slumping against the seat.
"Nani?"
"Stay at my place for a while," he pleaded.
"I was going to," Heero said. "But I don't think she'll be as much of a handful."
"Speak for yourself," Duo replied. "I mean, I don't know squat about teenagers. We never were normal."
"Maybe she's like you," Heero shrugged.
"Somehow I think girls are a *little* different," Duo said dryly.
"So how am I supposed to help?"
"You've got a sister," Duo argued. "She's a little older than my cousin, but it's gotta help . . . please, Heero?"
Heero sighed, pushing back his dark hair. "I don't know, Duo . . . Relena will get impatient."
"I *promise* you can do anything you want," Duo said. "*Out* of the house."
Heero's eyebrow rose. "I could do that anywhere else."
"But, Heero," Duo argued, "I'm your best friend. Please?"
He sighed. "Alright, alright," he grumbled.
~~~*~~~*@ @*~~~*~~~
What do you think? A weird alternate reality? Sorry. For any interested, my *real* name is Tammy . . . the childishness displayed in her? That's me, too. ^_^ Hey, what can I say? The real guys in my life are no where as intriguing as cartoon/anime characters! And I'm not the first author to do this, put my name in a ficcy . . . I feel justified. Any flames, comments, or suggestions are *very* welcome at spots_goil@juno.com OR Dariens_Bunny@sailormoon.com.
Thanks to: my wonderful spell-check and my sister, the Gundam Wing addict.
"If I am a jewel, as a dear friend once flirtatiously dubbed me, I am an opal. Fiery ice swirling in the milk-white of innocence. Passion and compassion. Myself to the core." Surprisingly enough, I wrote that. It's just to clarify any questions on my strange pen-name.
Chapter One
By: Opal Soul
Disclaimer: Do you *think* I'm talented enough to own Gundam Wing?
I sighed, slumping tiredly into the velvet plane seat. I stared fixedly at the screen in front of me. I hadn't bothered to take the headphone set out of its plastic bag, and the silence was eerily calming. A knot tangled and untangled itself in my stomach as the hurt on Tom Hanks' face became evident. Tears formed in my eyes; they had nothing to do with Meg Ryan. My fists clenched the blanket covering my lap. No. I won't think of it.
Turning my head to the side, I thought of Chicago and the cousin I had never met. Now he, whoever and whatever he was, had agreed to take me in. The tears spilled over.
"Mommy? Daddy?" I called, opening the door. My head snuck into the room happily. "I'm home."
The house was eerily silent. "Mommy? Daddy?" Cautiously I entered the room.
And screamed.
Blood was everywhere-- staining the white carpet, the white walls, even the white hair of my dog. My mother was slumped over my father. Their clothing was stained a dark red, as evil and vibrant as the rest of the room.
"My God," I whispered. "Dear God, what happened?
********
"Why do I have to go to the airport with you?" Heero grumbled.
His best friend shifted impatiently in the driver's seat of the Mercedes. "I've never taken care of a little girl before, Heero."
"Like I have," Heero muttered darkly.
"What was that?"
"Nothing." Heero cleared his throat. "So, Duo, do you know anything about your cousin?"
Duo shook his head. "Nope. Not really. I just know her name."
"What is it?"
Duo shrugged, intent on the road. "Tammy, I think."
Heero snorted. "What kind of a name is that?"
Duo's glare was icy. "And what about your own?"
Heero's grin became arrogant. "It's perfect," he said.
"Yeah, yeah," Duo broke in, sounding bored. His voice rose, mimicking his friend's numerous mistresses. "Ooh, yes, yes *my* Heero, ooh, yes, do it right there . . . ooh, Heero, you're my hero!" He finished with a puckering of his lips.
Heero's laugh was cynical. "Nice try," he said dryly. "I don't swing that way."
Duo's laugh was genuine. "Who's your flavor of the week?"
"Two weeks," Heero corrected.
Duo's left eyebrow lifted mockingly. "Gomen," he said humbly. "*Two* weeks. You're slipping, Heero. Soon you'll be pushing lifetime commitment."
Heero snorted again. "That'll be the day."
Duo laughed his agreement. "Seriously, who is it?"
"Relena," he said.
Duo's eyes widened. "Relena? That whore?"
"Watch it," Heero warned.
Duo's cobalt blue eyes sparkled.
Heero tried to steer the conversation away from himself. "So anyway, what kind of a name is that?"
"Relena?"
"No, Tammy, or whatever," Heero snapped.
"Well," Duo said, "when she's not a little girl any more, she'll break some hearts."
"How do you know?" Heero asked, curious. "You haven't even seen her. You don't even know if she is a little girl."
"I think she's a little girl because every damn person I've talked to has said she's adorably cute, impulsive, and mischievous. If that doesn't spell little girl, I don't know what does," Duo explained. "As for how I know, her name is perfect for her."
Heero shook his finger mockingly. "Oh?"
"It *means* perfect."
********
I sighed, absently twirling the ends of my curling black hair. It reached halfway down my back and waved happily, contradicting my own mood. The smile that used to rest on my face habitually was no where in sight. Cupping my chin in my hands, I stared dejectedly around the airport terminal. Where is he? I wondered impatiently. Duo, I think it was?
"I'm sorry, Miss Maxwell," the agent said, "about your parents." Her slightly wrinkled hands played with each other on top of a stack of folders and documents. "Your cousin, Duo Maxwell, has agreed to let you live with him."
Right away I felt apprehension biting my insides. "Duo Maxwell?" I repeated. "Who's he?"
"He lives in Chicago."
"Nani?" I asked. "Chicago? Why? Is he married? Does he have children? How old is he? Is he responsible?"
The agent chuckled softly, gently patting my clenched fists. "Relax, child. He's an extremely responsible selfmade millionaire with complexes and houses all over the world. It just happens that he lives in Chicago at the time."
I sat back in my chair, shocked. "A . . . millionaire?"
She nodded. "He's not married yet, has no children, and-- " She checked her records. "He's twenty-one."
"Twenty-one?" I got up with a bang, knocking into the pens on her desk.
She winced. "Twenty-one," she repeated reassuringly.
"He's selfmade?"
"Yes," she said. "He and his friend-- Heero Yuy-- started enterprising when they were fourteen. Their summers were filled with business and classes, and they both graduated at sixteen. Since then they've made themselves into the prestigious and rising Globe Enterprises."
"Globe Enterprises," I whispered reverently. "I'm related to *him?*"
"Hai," she chuckled.
"And me, I'm going to live with a twenty-one year old? A guy who just came of age?"
"You don't really have a choice," she said kindly. "You're underage."
"I could take care of myself," I argued, lying.
"Hai," she said mildly. "Maybe you could. But the maybe is what decides your fate, child." She snapped my folder shut resolutely. "And that's what made the decision for you."
I looked up again, scanning the room. Too short, too fat, too old, too ugly, I thought to myself, watching the men around the room. I fingered the picture in my lap.
"Excuse me, miss," a deep voice said. "Have you seen a little girl running around?"
I turned reluctantly to the speaker, and my breath caught in my throat. He was my picture. I swallowed, shook my head, and whispered, "Duo Maxwell?"
The man standing next to my cousin scowled at me. "Not another golddigger," he mumbled.
I shot him an icy glare, then directed my gaze back at the bored, but not unkind, boy watching me warily. Hesitantly I lifted the picture and slowly brought it in front of my face. "You're my cousin?" I managed.
"Who are you?" the other man snapped.
Turning my attention back to him, I stuck my tongue out momentarily. "Your worse nightmare," I said, trying to sound intimidating.
"Do you have proof?" Duo asked.
My mind drew a blank and I chewed my lip. Nervously I tugged at the chain around my neck. "Uh . . . my parents died a . . . a month ago and Mrs. Whalen said to come here, to America, and live with . . . you, my cousin." My blue eyes turned pleadingly to him, begging him to see that I was telling the truth. "Please, please, you have to believe me," I begged, a lump forming in my throat. "I . . . I have no where else to go."
Silently Duo hunkered next to my chair. Gently taking my passport from me, he smiled kindly and checked it.
"Well?" his friend asked.
"My God, Heero," Duo said. "The little girl *already* grew up."
I looked questioningly at him.
He laughed, hugging me sideways. "We thought you were six," he explained.
I pretended to be angry. "Well, I'm *sorry* I'm not what you wanted," I said huffily.
He laughed and squeezed my arm. "That's okay," he said. "You're perfect just the way you are."
"Like hell she is," Heero muttered sulkily.
"What was that?" Duo asked sharply.
"Nothing," Heero said. "Just-- what are you going to do with all the toys you bought for her? Somehow I don't think she'll like Barney very much."
My chin rose defiantly and my tongue came to greet him again. "Don't go dissing purple dinosaurs," I warned. "It's the pot calling the kettle black."
Duo laughed again. "Heero, she's got you there."
"Except you're a *black* dinosaur," I added sweetly, looking up at him through eyelashes. "A grumpy one at that."
********
"Heero," Duo hissed. His cousin had fallen asleep in the car, slumping against the seat.
"Nani?"
"Stay at my place for a while," he pleaded.
"I was going to," Heero said. "But I don't think she'll be as much of a handful."
"Speak for yourself," Duo replied. "I mean, I don't know squat about teenagers. We never were normal."
"Maybe she's like you," Heero shrugged.
"Somehow I think girls are a *little* different," Duo said dryly.
"So how am I supposed to help?"
"You've got a sister," Duo argued. "She's a little older than my cousin, but it's gotta help . . . please, Heero?"
Heero sighed, pushing back his dark hair. "I don't know, Duo . . . Relena will get impatient."
"I *promise* you can do anything you want," Duo said. "*Out* of the house."
Heero's eyebrow rose. "I could do that anywhere else."
"But, Heero," Duo argued, "I'm your best friend. Please?"
He sighed. "Alright, alright," he grumbled.
~~~*~~~*@ @*~~~*~~~
What do you think? A weird alternate reality? Sorry. For any interested, my *real* name is Tammy . . . the childishness displayed in her? That's me, too. ^_^ Hey, what can I say? The real guys in my life are no where as intriguing as cartoon/anime characters! And I'm not the first author to do this, put my name in a ficcy . . . I feel justified. Any flames, comments, or suggestions are *very* welcome at spots_goil@juno.com OR Dariens_Bunny@sailormoon.com.
Thanks to: my wonderful spell-check and my sister, the Gundam Wing addict.
"If I am a jewel, as a dear friend once flirtatiously dubbed me, I am an opal. Fiery ice swirling in the milk-white of innocence. Passion and compassion. Myself to the core." Surprisingly enough, I wrote that. It's just to clarify any questions on my strange pen-name.