A/N: Thankyou to the readers and reviewers of the first chapter. A call-out to my first fan from Holland, HeartlessLittleHamster and the wonderful marishka91, you guys own.

(Haha, just letting you know that the word Fugue in the chapter title is not pronounced foogoo, but rather, fyoog. I just didn't want people to go around saying, "Musicinmotion is naming her chapters rather oddly, I mean, what on earth is a Flaming Foogoo?" Yeah, you guys would never do that, right?)

Disclaimer: Don't own Beyblade, or foogoos.

Chapter 2 - Flaming Fugue

Julia stared at herself in the mirror. The last three months had been pure bliss for her as the ritual morning sickness had finally ceased, allowing her to enjoy her days as a future mother uninterrupted. But now as her eyes flicked over her distended figure, she seemed to finally realize that she would give birth to a tiny human being before a month had passed. This thought constricted her throat and made her want to weep. Nothing could surmount this blessing.

Leaving her reflection, Julia walked – no small feat now that her belly had grown to almost double the size it had been at five months, and her ankles were swollen from the weight of it and her back ached continually – downstairs from her bedroom to begin with the tiresome but highly necessary household chores. Cleaning in Spring is in no way the same as Spring cleaning, but Julia felt content to leave the monumental house clearout till after the baby was born.

After the baby was born!

She and Anya would have Spring babies, much to their delight. Anya, in fact, was due any day now, having completed the full three terms of her pregnancy. Julia was rapt with the thought of Anya's little boy growing up alongside her own child. She could've wished for nothing more.

The day progressed slowly as she cooked, cleaned, washed, and now found herself ironing in the living room, the last job of the day. Exhausted and wanting nothing more than to rest, Julia monotonously ironed her husband's shirts and her own adjusted blouses with as much enthusiasm as a checkout-chick. Finally she finished the collar of the last shirt and without hesitation, lay down unceremoniously onto the living room couch and curled around her full abdomen, promptly falling into a deep and sound sleep.

Little did she realize however, that the iron perched high atop the ironing board, was in fact still steaming, at full heat.

Meanwhile, Iakov Prokofiev was excitedly driving home from his workplace deep in the city. Alexei had just called him saying that Anya had gone into labour and that he should collect his wife and come to the hospital straight away to witness the long awaited event. Without hesitation Iakov had made a hasty excuse to his boss and left for home. Unfortunately for him, and his wife, Iakov was stuck bumper-to-bumper in mid-day traffic. He sighed in frustration, but figured there was nothing he could do about it. Later he would wish there had been.

At the Prokofiev home, Julia remained in her peaceful slumber, eyelids flickering with dream. So deep was her sleep in fact, that Julia didn't even twitch when Sim the family cat crept across her legs and landed lightly on the floor. He sat for a moment, staring at the sleeping woman with dark, dark emotionless feline eyes. Then, breaking the gaze, Sim turned swiftly and began to rub his head against the legs of the ironing board, trying to rid himself of the never-ending itch all cats seem to have. Above, the steaming iron wobbled dangerously, threatening to topple, just as Sim paused from his incessant scratching to snap his head up and fix his attention on something dancing about on the floor. It may have been a mouse, a leaf or even a bit of dust, but whatever it was, Sim needed instinctively to stop its beguiling movement. And so, with the selfishness only a cat can possess, Sim leapt forward at the object, unknowingly bumping the ironing board with his shoulder and sending the iron tumbling to land dully on the soft rug below.

Julia didn't even stir.

Iakov beeped his horn angrily at the motorist in front of him. 'What are you doing?!' he yelled from the safety of his car. 'You just cut me off, you idiot!' Growling, Iakov ran his fingers through his hair before checking his wristwatch. Although it seemed mean, Iakov prayed that Anya was in for a long labour, or else he and his wife would never make it on time.

Or just never make it.

When Julia finally did awaken, it was to smoke, conflagration and intense heat. Letting out a terrified scream, Julia was horrified to find herself surrounded by a flaming, hellish inferno. Milliseconds later she registered the pain in her feet and looked down to find flames licking at her ankles from over the couch. Jumping up she swatted her feet to try and stop the burning being only mildly successful in her attempts.

Heart beating wildly, Julia searched around wide-eyed for the nearest escape route, and found it in the side door, a mere few metres away.

Tumbling forward, Julia coughed and spluttered, her eyes tearing from both panic and the smothering smoke. All she could think of was her baby, and saving it.

It was with some confusion and dismay then, when Julia found her self dropping to the ground, having unsuspectingly tripped on the fallen iron's power cord. Turning best she could in mid-air, Julia crashed to the smouldering floor making sure she landed on her side rather than her precious front. Dazed and slightly concussed, it took her a few seconds to feel the white hot pain shoot up her side and back as the fire began to consume her in its unstoppable rampage. Julia gasped but only succeeded in inhaling more smoke and ash.

The blaze burnt through her clothes and began to sear her skin as Julia, crying, finally found the strength to pull her self forward towards a small patch of the floor that seemed not to be ablaze at that moment. Her teeth gritted against the pain of her burning flesh and lungs, Julia managed to inch to the tiny haven amongst the ferocious roar of the intense firestorm and when she got there, she lay on her side, unable to move, paralysed by pain and exhaustion.

Opening eyes she didn't know she had closed, Julia, through the sweat and smoke and tears, saw the last thing she ever would: her piano, a fiery apparition of noise and music and heat.

A sob escaped her lips and Julia closed her weeping eyes.

Weeping for the baby she would never see and the music she would never hear.

Iakov, after an age, pulled into his street and hastily sped down it, to find, with a sickening dread, fire engines and police cars and ambulances outside his house, sirens wailing. Voluminous smoke clouds puffed out of the windows of his house, and an ominous red glow could be seen.

Iakov didn't even turn his car off before sprinting towards the mayhem. He saw firemen preparing to enter his house and ran to them, tears already forming in his eyes.

'Julia! Julia! Is she in there?! Julia!' he yelled, deciding to bypass the firemen and run straight to his smouldering house. Before he could reach it though, large hands grasped his shoulders and arms, pulling him back.

'It's not safe, sir! Stay back; we're entering the building now!' yelled one of the firemen over the noise of the deafening fire.

One man held Iakov back while the others in full protective gear ran into the house. They didn't have to go far to find the lifeless woman curled around her pregnant belly, lying paces from the side-door. With no abandon they collected Julia and speedily carried her out through the grabbing flames and to the waiting ambulance.

Iakov was also herded into the ambulance as he seemed too much in shock to do anything himself. Staring down at his inert wife, Iakov felt a strong urge to shake her awake, but could do nothing but gaze upon his scalded Julia with blank, terrible eyes.

The ambulance raced away to the hospital leaving the wreck far behind. Yet, sitting on the footpath directly in front of the house firemen were now hosing, was Sim, the family cat, licking his fur in vanity.

He looked up at the damage he had done, and simply sauntered away.

Simply sauntered away.

A/N: Oh my goodness! Writing this chapter was so scary...Every time I walked past my iron I'd have to check and make sure it was turned off, and I kept burning myself when I was cooking, much to my chagrin.

Reviews and constructive crit. appreciated!

Cheers.