Takes place before the series begins. No warnings, no violence, no pairings, no language, no nudity.

Rated: G

Just A Girl


1.


"Come on, kid, take a break." I stare up at the kid's form, just barely visible in the open belly of the Taurus. When he doesn't reply, I finish off my empty beer can and throw it at the open panel. It clatters hollowly inside the mobile suit's body, only to reappear a second later, winging its way down to hit me square on the forehead.

"Kranz, don't be pestering Nanashi," Franco says, coming up behind me. "He's on a mission to find the squeak in the balance motors." Franco nudges me in the shoulder and grins. "Besides, his aim is far better than yours."

I ignore Franco, and focus on the clanging coming from the Taurus. "Come on, Nanashi, it can wait until morning!" I holler.

The kid's head finally pokes out from the Mobile Suit, a wrench in one hand, and a screwdriver tucked behind his ear. His brown hair flops down in his face. There's a smudge of grease on his cheekbone, clearly visible even from the twenty-foot distance.

"I'm almost done," he says, and disappears again.

"That's what you told the Captain an hour ago," I yell back. "Dinner will be ready, and you're not missing another meal."

Franco shakes his head. "Nanashi's too skinny," he says under his breath. "He's a frickin' beanpole. A short beanpole, but still a beanpole."

"Yeah, and we even scored some biscotti," I mutter. It's a surprise, for the one day a year the Captain had summarily determined was Nanashi's birthday - or the closest thing a foundling like him might have. Franco, however, naturally ruins the plans immediately with his big mouth.

"Biscotti!"

Nanashi's head pops out of the Mobile Suit's belly, then pulls back in. There's a rattling of metal, and a wrench comes flying out of the machine, followed quickly by Nanashi's skinny form as he scales the machine's body, hopping to the ground with an expectant look.

"Only if you eat your vegetables," I tease. As usual, however, Nanashi reacts as though it were a direct order, nodding seriously as he turns and trots off towards the encampment. Franco follows him, but I pause to pick up the wrench. Straightening up, I hear another sound, of a second body making a slow and hesitant path down the mobile suit's lowered climbing rope.

Curious, I step back into the shadows, watching a young girl walk past me, following the direction Nanashi had headed. Hm. Wonder what Nanashi was doing with a girl? He can't be more than ten, by my guess. He was perhaps three years old when we found him, and seven years now...ten, maybe eleven. Hard to tell, really. Kids grow so fast.

But a girl, already, I think, watching her slim shape fade into the darkness only to reappear, silhouetted by the campfire. Cute, if way too young for my taste, but when you're ten, anything over eleven's got to seem wise to the world. I grin to myself, shove the wrench in my back pocket, and head to get some dinner, too.


2.


"Hey, Nanashi," I say, turning on the cockpit's seat to see skinny legs hanging over the entrance. "Hand me a five-sixteenths for a three-eighths socket, would ya?" I can hear him rustling in the toolbox as I replace the busted card, sliding a new one into place and shutting the drive door with a soft thump. The panel needs replacing, too, having burnt out from a direct hit in our last engagement. Something bumps me in the shoulder and I reach up, taking the socket without looking. "Thanks."

The feet remain, kicking back and forth idly, as though Nanashi were waiting for something. I figure as much; the kid often hangs back, rather than impose, even if we're the closest to family, and tell him so all the time. Finally I give up, shaking my head as I grimace at the torque on the left-hand panel bolt.

"Nanashi," I tell him. "Come on in here and hold this panel in place."

The boy leaps down into the cockpit with a graceful maneuver; putting his hands on the panel as I finally get the first bolt undone. Moving to the second, I risk a glance at his face. It's solemn, but he's chewing at his lower lip. Suspicious, I decide to go for it.

"So...cute girl."

His hands falter and the panel swings down, catching the half-undone bolt at a bad angle. I studiously avoid looking at Nanashi, whose face seemed to be turning the same bright red as his favorite scarf. Instead, I help him straight the panel, and go back to working on the bolt.

"She a friend of yours?"

Nanashi shrugs. I nod, and hum under my breath as the bolt comes loose in my fingers. Between the two of us, we get the panel down, Nanashi supporting it as I study the fried wires behind it.

"How..." The boy's voice is quiet, and would seem flat to a stranger, but I know him well enough to recognize that split-second of hesitation. "How do you know if you like someone?"

I nearly drop the ratchet. That wasn't quite what I was expecting, but close enough, I figure. I do my best to wipe the grin off my face, and try to appear as though I were considering his question seriously. Given that Nanashi gives even the act of choosing one sugar or two for his coffee a long moment of contemplation, a serious reply is the least I can do.

"Well," I say, wondering if it's too late to tell him to talk to the Captain, "I think it starts with wanting to be around the person a lot."

Nanashi nods, his expression intent, and I can practically see him filing that away.

"Did you have someone in mind?" I ask, oh-so-nonchalantly.

The boy shrugs, but his fingers tighten on the edge of the panel. We're quiet for a minute, as I set down the ratchet and begin disconnecting the appropriate wires.

"How do you know if you want to be around the person?"

I blink, confused, and start to answer, but Nanashi explains himself quickly, as though he's already concluded the question was ambiguous.

"I mean, if they're always around..."

"Ah," I say, laughing. "How can I miss you, if you never go away?" I raise my head over the panel and laugh, waggling my eyebrows at him. He frowns a little, treating the tease as a serious question, but it only makes me shake my head and grin wider.

Damn kid is so predictable: everything has to be considered carefully, turned over and studied thoroughly. Like if he could just consider it long enough, it would make sense. Then again, how else can I expect him to act? We did our best, but his only toys were broken mobile suit parts, and his bedtime stories were tales of our magnificent victories, exaggerated into legend only amongst our troop.

"I don't know if I like her," he says finally, picking his words carefully as though weaving his Taurus through a field of land mines. "But I think she's like me."

A kid of war, I think he means. I nod, and bang my head on the frame for the panel. I curse under my breath and reach for the last three wires, stripping them quickly.

"Okay," I tell him, "let's lift this out of the way."

Nanashi helps me lean the heavy panel against the arm of the seat, and watches silently as I poke and prod at the wiring harness. Clearly whatever's on his mind isn't yet worked through completely. I take my time with the repairs, to let him think.

"What do you do with girls?"

I nearly yank the wires straight from the harness, stunned by the abrupt question, and a bit amused at the utter naïveté in his tone. "Ah," I say, wondering if my face is a little red, too. "Ah, well, there's no need to worry about that now. That's for later."

Nanashi twitches his head to get his hair out of his eyes and gives me a look like I'm utterly stupid. He's gathering information, and he's going to find it, whether I like it or not. And better me, I suppose, than Franco or some of the other guys, who'll probably scare him half of ten year's growth with lurid stories of the fun to be had at the hands of a good woman. I sigh.

"Girls are...well, they can be friends," I begin, not sure how to put it.

"I have enough friends," he replies, his brows lowering just a bit.

"You have friends, but you can never have too many," I point out. "Friends watch your back. They're there for you. And girls...are just there, with...benefits."

"Benefits." He's silent a moment, then flushes again. "Like kissing?"

"Yeah," I drawl, unable to help myself. "Among other things."

"I don't know if I want to kiss her," he says, and his expression is firm but his tone's tentative, as though he's come to the decision but isn't sure how. "I mean...she's grown-up."

I just about choke. I am not having this conversation; I can't be. This is the Captain's role. He adopted the kid; I just happened to be there when it happened. I set down the wiring harness and turn to lean against the ceiling of the mobile suit, my feet resting on the back of the seat.

"Well, she's what...twelve? Girls grow up faster than guys," I say, a little cautiously. "They...know what they want, sooner than us guys."

"I know what I want," he replies, but he doesn't sound sure of himself.

"I don't think we mean the same thing," I mutter.

Just what we need...Nanashi in the throes of his first love affair, at age ten. Judging from his behavior, I doubt that'll happen, and hope fervently I'm right. The girl I'd seen had moved with too much self-assurance. I think back to when I was ten, and can only see one route ahead: she'll probably scare the wits out of Nanashi, even if not meaning to, and he'll retreat into a shell and not come out until he's fifteen.

Probably not even then, I think, regarding the young man thoughtfully. He's fiddling with the harness, his deft fingers splaying the wires in preparation for the new panel.

"Look, Nanashi," I finally say, "just watch yourself. Girls can be...tricky."

"Tricky," he repeats, his fingers stilling on the wires.

"Yeah." I put my hands to the edge of the cockpit opening over our heads, and hoist myself out. Turning, I give him a hand up, lifting his slight weight easily. "When they're young...oh, hell, at any point, I think...they've got a lot in their heads. They...don't see things the same way. That means they make choices that don't make sense, to you or me."

Nanashi nods, the contemplative look back on his face. That's the worst part, knowing if I say a wrong word, correcting myself won't overwrite the older words. They'll all just be filed together, probably under a mental heading of How Girls Think, According To Kranz. I groan mentally, and clap Nanashi on the shoulder.

"Just don't let her break your heart," I whisper, as if relaying a great secret. "You do that, you're a goner." I laugh, and hop down from the Taurus, hitting the ground with a grunt as my knees protest. "Alright, boy, you want to come into town with me to get a new panel?"

He doesn't say anything, but stares across the encampment for a second, before nodding and leaping down beside me. I'm already several feet away and heading for the truck, and I don't think he expects me to hear his whispered response.

"How can you break something you don't have," he asks himself.

I don't know, kid, I think, unwilling to let him know I'd heard. But your heart's going to be broken, one way or another. It's the first step of growing up. I sigh, and do my best to resurrect my grin for his benefit.

"Come on, Nanashi, no looking down at the mouth," I tease. "I hear there's a bakery in town with the best biscotti in Italy."

That gets me a faint grin, which is the equivalent of a cheerful smile on anyone else's face. Ah, always so serious, I think, climbing into the truck. Nanashi climbs into the cab beside me, and the movement pulls his scarf to the side. I catch a flash of light, and glance over to see him tugging his scarf down again.

"What's that?" It had looked like a cross. "You found religion or something?"

Nanashi shrugs, one end of his mouth curling up in his abbreviated version of a wry smile. "The girl gave it to me. Midi."

Girl has a name, I think. And she's given him something. I whistle under my breath as I start the truck's engine. "Sounds serious," I tell him, but keep my tone light.

"Is it?" He gives me a puzzled look, and goes back to staring out the side window.

Definitely serious. I sigh to myself as we pull out of the camp, the truck's wheels rumbling as it hits the paved road. Well, I'll just have to keep an eye on the girl. She hurts him, I promise myself, and I'll find a way to make her miserable. Nanashi might not believe he's got a heart, but I've seen the truth of things, and it's really the opposite.

He's got a heart, and it would break all too easily.