DragonRaye: You are correct :) English isn't my first language, I'm Dutch but I think the mistakes I made are moslty the result of me being impatient and lazy because it's not like I make that many errors simply because I don't know any better ;) Forgive me. I understand very way that it takes away some of the reading experience but I've always found that when it comes to a true great story, some typos and grammar and spelling errors don't matter, so I hope in this case my errors won't matter to you ;) thank you so much for reading and reviewing, I hope you will stick with me to the bitter end ;)
Zuzanny: Thank God, the link is made. I was afraid people might not understand why Duo is so happy with what Heero says. I should give you guys more credit ;) Thank you for your review, I hope you wil continue to read and review.
Shadowalchemist198: I already responded to your review in the previous chapter after editing it, in case you haven't noticed ;). I'd like to thank you again for reviewing and apologize in advance for the errors you may (will) come across in this chapter.
Spittle: I'm glad you don't like him, that was my intention ;) in every single story Quatre is so sweet and so perfect, but he's is human so he must be flawed and he must have 'wrong' feelings, and act wrong from time to time. I aplogize for the spelling errors but I hope the 'quick' update will make you forgive me ;) Thank you for reading and reviewing.
Toni: Thanks for your review, I'm glad you like the story and I hope this update won't disappoint. Stick with me, the 'grande finale' is in sight ;)
Snowdragonct: Thank you so much! You always manage to make me feel good about an update ;) I hope you honestly enjoyed. I thought the speech was pretty good myself ;) And I totally agree with you, it was Heero's choice, Duo can't be blamed for wanting to finish what Heero had started and Heero should take the blame himself. But will he? ;) just keep on reading and find out. As always thank you for your review, it's nice to have a loyal reader and reviewer, I hope this update doesn't disappoint even though I'm not too thrilled with it myself. One comfort though: it's very long ;)
I must warn you, if you ask me, this chapter is quite boring, but I'm reaching the end of the story and there were things left untold and unexplained so I thought it was time to catch up. This entire (long) chapter concists of flashbacks that reveal some crucial moments in Duo's life the years in between the last war and being reunited with Heero. Maybe me telling all this information in one chapter turns out to be a huge mistake but I don't have enough plot left for everything to be revealed gradually. I might have made the underlying plot a bit too complicated (and explain too much things that don't really matter to the red line of the story but I got a bit carried away, you know me).
As I said, I find this story very boring so not surprisingly I haven reread it for spelling errors. After Shadowalchemist198's review this was my intention but it's late and I'm tired and the next time I'll have the opportunity to reread and then post it is more than a week from now (I'm a busy gal) and I didn't want to keep you guys waiting so long (nor did I want to wait that long myself). I might beta it next week when I have time, but I'm not making any promises. I hope you guys can find a way to enjoy it anywho.
ADOPTING DUO
Chapter Twenty
// AC 200, august 15
The streets of L2 are barren and grey. A lifeless collection of different types of metal, poured concrete and bricks. The buildings all look just as poor and rundown as the next. Rising several stories high. Most of the windows are shattered or taped off with plastic bags, similiar to the side windows of most of the parked cars. However barren this downtown part of L2 may be and however lifeless it may seem, it is never quiet. Day and night – sometimes it can be 'night' for days because they don't even have the funds to turn on the light that mimics the sun – you can hear car alarms echoing through the street. In the distance you could make out gunfire, honking cars, yells, screams. L2 is a lot of things, but quiet it will never be. Not even uptown. The chaos of the poor downtown projects echo off the rusting, bare titanium and steel (unlike L1, L2 has not replaced the outerwalls with Gundanium) walls of the colony.
Uptown. Sector1 to 22. It could be admired from afar by the dreamers stuck down here. All they had to do was open their window and stick their head out. In the distance they could see the cold glass of the tall office buildings and apartment complexes reflect the articfial light – if it was turned on.
Downtown. Sector 23 to 60, the higher the number, the worse it gets. It could be looked at with disgust by the few people who managed to earn themselves an office high up in those buildings, looking out over the colony. They could look from behind their bullet resistant glass at the dispair beneath their feet and then they would turn and never look again.
I pass a street sign. 'S31, D2' short for: Sector 31, District 2. Not too bad, not too good. The buildings look like they are about to collapse, windows are either cracked or completely shattered, but atleast the gunfire and the screaming sounds very far away. In this sector people even dare to step out onto the streets. I've been walking up here all the way from Sector 58, where rent was low enough for me to get myself an apartment.
I walk with my hands buried deep in the pockets of my jeans. I'm having a hard time trying not to be aware of the pistol I stuck in the back of my jeans. I don't feel safe without it. This however doesn't mean I feel safe with it. Wouldn't be the first time an innocent pedestrian gets shot with his own gun by another desperate victim of L2's sadism. That doesn't keep me from carrying it with me everywhere I go though and keeping it under pillow as I sleep – or atleast try in vain to.
To get here I had to go past hookers, dealers, addicts, gangs, beggars, murderers, rapists and the frequent freak that found it's refuge in the dark alleys of L2. For any other human being it could be considered a miracle I even got this far. But, of course, I'm not just any human being.
Words of critism and dismay were written all over every building side. I don't have to read them to know what they say. I've walked past them often enough. Some of the phrases are very long, some are even poetic. But the one that spoke to me most was the one written in big letters, the paint drooping down like it was written in blood, and they simply read: 'L2 sucks, but it's home'. There really was no better way to say it.
I've reached a large, sand covered patch in between the red brick building, surrounded by tall steelwire fences and I stop to look. It's small, only a about a hectare, but to me every grain of sand stood for hope and opportunity. And the feeling was unique, something I will never tire of. A red sign hung from the fence, 'SOLD' it read. A white and black sign underneath read: 'Property of 'Maxwell's Scrapyard''.
Not a very original name I must admit, but I was proud to say I invested every last cent I had in this patch of ground. As soon as it was up for sale, I jumped at the opportunity, it just seemed meant to be. Only a day after I had decided I wanted to open a scrapyard and organise a clean up crew to clean up all the post war debri that floats around in outer space in dangerous vicinity to the colonies – which has caused several spaceshuttle accidents already – I walked through this street, a street both familiar and uncharted to me and my eyes fell apon this hectare of sandy dunes. I only had a moment to feel sad about seeing it, knowing what kind of a safe haven had been there before – my safe haven and the safe haven of a dozen more orphaned and helpless children – the closest I would ever come to heaven.
Now seeing it didn't make me sad for even a fraction of a second. It made me smile. It's the only thing currently in my life that could make me smile. Piles of sand, how sad is that?
It all started one morning, a morning that I thought would be just as dull as all the others I've had before, but it would turn out to be so very different.
// The early morning of March fifteenth AC 200 would turn out to be a morning not many people will ever forget. It was a morning that one day, fifty years from now, kids will read about in their history books. I was as oblivious to the immensity of that day, as were many, till I dragged myself out of bed on that lazy sunday and flipped on the tv. The news. I didn't even bother to watch and immediately changed channels. The news did nothing to me. People who have lived their life like I did become immune to robberies, murderers and rapists on the loose. But the news was on the next channel as well. Annoyed I flipped channels again and again, it was the news, albeit with different reporters, that I saw. At that moment I first realised something big had happened. And the thought that the world had dramatically changed while I was sleeping in was a strange one. There hasn't been a day as such, for as far as I can remember, that I hadn't been involved in it, somehow. So I slowly sat down and prepared myself for the feeling of helplessness that the inhabitants of the colonies and earth must have felt when newsstations were reporting live on Gundam battles.
'At four am this morning,' the handsome, female newsreporter said, holding a microphone to her lips 'The Interspace Travel Control lost sight of shuttle 5402, which had just enterred the L2 district. Who knew that the short flight from L1 spaceport B, to L2's main spaceport, would end in such a tragedy?'
I focussed on the background. She was standing outside L2's main spaceport. People were mobbing outside the entrance. Some people were crying, most were just looking up with shocked expressions. I knew the area well and knew they were looking at the large television screen, suspended just above the main entrance, but unfortunately it was out of the camera's line of sight and I had no idea what was so captivating and shocking, though I had my suspsicions. Terrorists, I thought, or maybe another loon trying to start a third inter colonial war.
'For hours on end they have been trying to get back into radiocontact with the shuttle while precautionary search parties were sent out.' The pretty lady continued, raising her voice so she could be heard above the loud noise of the mob. 'Finally, the shuttle was found.' Her voice was sad and her eyes filled with remorse. 'At seven fourtyfour the second search party made contact with the headquarters of the Interspace Travel Control reporting they had found the lost shuttle. But there wasn't much left of it.' The image changed to a blurry, pixilized, picture of what seemed like regular post war space debris that has been littering the L2 area ever since the first war. Remains of mobiles suits and spacecrafts. But then a next picture was shown, more clear and taken closer to the objects. The rubble could be easily identified as the remains of a commercial space shuttle.
My breath hitched. The next picture was one of the tailpeace, with the number and code of the model still legiable. Mobel A40, an intercolonial shuttle, not suited for penetrating Earths unforgiving atmosphere, but perfect for intercolonial travel. Those shuttles were large enough to carry three hundred people...
'The ITC published the passenger list only an hour ago.' She paused before she dreadfully announced: 'The shuttle was carrying nearly it's full capacity. 292 lives... were lost.'
It felt like the war all over again. But now it was even worse, now I couldn't get to my Gundam and avenge the lost lives by killing off some OZ pawns.
The reporter was silent for a while as more footage was shown of the spacecraft and the people outside the L1 and L2 spaceports, then she continued with a stronger tone of voice: 'The people immediately demanded an explanation and a lot of fingerpointing has already been done. L1 blames L2, L2 blames L1. Currently The ITC is still investigating the matter and exploring the possibility of sabotage and a terrorist attack, but at this time their unofficial conclusion is that the shuttle flew into some of the debris that has been making the L2 space area a hazzardess place to fly, ever since the first war.' She explained further, along with some images of the war, fighting mobile suits, I even caught a shot of my own Gundam: 'During the war a lot of mobile suits were destroyed in space, but the wreckages didn't just disappear. Shortly after the war the debris could be found near all the colonies where the battles took place but most of the colonies, L1, L3, L4 and L5 had the financial means of organising clean up crews, however L2, with it's less than profitable economy has been unable to clean up the debris in their area and no one rose to the challenge. So far this has only caused relatively minor accidents so there was never really a pressing need to invest what little money L2 has in an expensive cleaning crew from L1, since there isn't even a company present on L2 that is up for the job. However, senator Sexton of the L2 colony must be wishing he did right now because if ITC's present conclusion turns out to be true, they could be facing a lawsuit more expensive than ANY clean up crew. This is Kerry van de Kamp, reporting live from L2, sector five, district three, spaceport.' //
I squint my eyes, but they don't betray me. In the middle of my beloved property stands a lone figure, their back turned towards me. Scanning the fence surrounding it I notices one had been pushed back a bit, creating an opening just wide enough for a person to slip through. Feeling a little violated I slipped through the small opening myself. My worn leather jacket got caught on the steel wire and I ripped it in my effort to get loose. My haze of happiness was quickly fading. I follow the footprints in the sand all the way up to the figure, who must have known I was coming – I was grumbling about my ruined jacket all the way – but still refused to face me. Whatever happened to courtesy? Wait, I must remind myself, this is L2 I'm on.
Suddenly it dawns to me that what I have done could easily turn out to be very dangerous. I've just walked up to a complete stranger with my guard down. What if he or she, I couldn't really tell, the hair was short and the jacket revealed no definitively male or female figure, suddenly pulled a knife, or worse, a gun, and decided this was just a beautiful day to off an unexpecting long haired idiot?
// 'Baka.' //
'Excuse me?' I speak up agitated. 'Can't you read? You shouldn't be here.'
'And neither should you.' The figure said, the voice was gravelly but there was no doubt I was dealing with a woman, the wind roughly pulling on her short dark blue hair and the loose ends of her jacket. 'But here we both are.' She turns to face me with a big, warm smile.
And I smile back.
'Long time no see.' She says, the smile broadens.
'Hilde...' I breathe. Before I even know what I'm doing I close the distance between us and pull her into a shaky hug. It felt so good to be in her presence. She was so strong and this in turn gave me strength almost like... like...
// 'I love you.' //
'I can't believe it, what are you doing here in this hellhole?' I pull back but keep my hands on her shoulders. I might be holding onto her too tightly, but she didn't complain so I didn't loosen my grip.
'Looking for you ofcourse.' Hilde spoke matter-of-factly with that brilliant smile of hers.
I try to laugh, because it was funny, but all that comes out of my throat is an awkward chuckle, this may take some practise. 'Well, than a hellhole would be a good place to start.'
Hilde laughs at my joke. There is nothing awkward about her laughter, she does it with an ease I immediately envy.
'I've missed you.' I pulled her into another hug.
She wraps her arms around my broad shoulder and squeezes me tight, pressing me against her so close I can feel both our hearts racing in unison.
'How did you find me?' I ask in disbelief.
'You were on my doormat! I saw your picture in the paper with your plan to open a scrapyard. All this time I had been wondering where you were and you turn out to be right here on L2!'
I was sorta sad to hear she lived here too, she deserved better than that.
'I didn't know your home adress so I came here.' She released me and looks around a bit awed. 'Big dreams you have.'
'Costly dreams I have.' I correct her, sounding more lighthearted than it made feel. I followed her gaze and looked around myself. A mixture of pride and happiness with a hint of worry. How could I ever afford the next step?
'Well that's what you have me for... partner.' //
// AC 205, january 1Some nights a year are meant to be filled with joy and laughter, love and friendship, fidelity and comfort. Newyears eve was one of those night where people were just – sometimes without any reason – happy. On Newsyears eve everyone finds a way to be happy.
And so did I.
'I love you, you know that?' I slur and loosely wrap my arms around the person sitting next to me, I can't even say with certainty who it is. I feel weak and lightheaded, but mostly I feel free of worry and that's all I ever wanted.
Without much difficulty my captive swats away my spaghetti like arms and she says strictly, but with an underlying tone of mirt: 'You're drunk.'
I laugh. 'Ding ding ding we have a winner...' I rest my head on the cool, glass surface of the bar and moan in pleasure. I've never been drunk before in my life, that much I remember, however, had I known from the beginning it was going to be like this, I would have gotten drunk much sooner in my life. I frown, how old was I? 'What year is it again?'
She sighs and crosses her leg as she sits perched on the barstool. As her legs cross her foot comes into contact with my shin and it's sending shivers through my body. 'It's been AC 205 for the past three hours.'
She sounds annoyed, but sober... or I'm just sooooooo drunk I can't even tell.
'Happy New Year.' I whispered, tired all of a sudden, my head still resting on the bar, my shoulders hunched, my eyes closed.
'... Happy New Year.'
'I love you, ya know?' yawn.
'... I love you too.'
I turn my head to grant the other side of my face contact with the cool bar. 'Ahhh...'
We are approached by the bartender who proceeds to talk to my escort in a quiet tone of voice, but loud enough for her to hear him over the music. What he didn't know was that this was an ex-gundam-pilot they were gossiping about, so I heard every word they said. However, understanding those words was something far more complicated. Too complicated.
'He's really drunk, I suggest you take him home, before he starts to be a bother.'
I had no idea what he just said, his sentence was too long for me to understand and he spoke too quickly for my brain to register his words.
He leaves.
Next thing I know there are two hands on my shoulders, giving them a soft squeeze. 'Let's go Duo, the party is over.'
'What are you talking about? The party is just starting!' I say, but I give no resitance when I am pulled out of my seat and tugged out of the club.
'I'm cold...' I complain.
'Yeah, me too.' Is the matter-of-factly spoken response.
She all but pushes me into her car. Or atleast, I assume it's her car we're stepping into. For all I know this car is stolen. For all I know she is kidnapping me. Is it even a 'she'? I wonder. Whatever he or she was doing, whatever what was being done, I was oblivious to all of it, I fell asleep as soon as my butt fell into the chair, not even the slamming of the door awoke me.
Whether the ride was long or short I don't know. But when I was awoken by hands shaking me roughly and a voice calling out to me, calling out my name I assume though I'm not even sure I remember what it is, I was looking at someone. His or her face was so close to mine my eyes couldn't focus.
Finally, after some quiet moments in which all I heard was our breaths, mingling in the cold air, the invader of my personal space pulled back and me pulled me along, out of the car and into the chill. Bewildered I look around. 'This isn't sector 58...' I state dumbly.
'No, it isn't.' The cardoor behind me is shut, all the while one of the hands never leave my body, resting on my shoulder giving a little physical as well as mental support.
I look up at the tall apartment building in front of me. 'This isn't my place...'
'No.'
I am pushed towards the double door entrance, all the way inside, through the lobby, into the elavator. Amazed I stand in the small cubicle. This building has an elavator! My building doesn't have an elavator... This is definitely not my building. But... perhaps... No, I wouldn have noticed if they installed an elavator... the constructionworkers would have been a dead give-away.
I am being looked at, quite intently, I could feel that, but I didn't respond to the prying gaze glued to my being, though I silently wondered what in the world could possibly be so interesting about me.
I look to my side with wide eyes, blank face and slightly open mouth. I get a warm smile in return and the figure – I'm still a bit hazy about the 'who' – steps in closer, so close I could feel the warmth eminating from the body.
The elavator comes to an abrupt halt on the sixth floor and I am pushed out into the hallway. We pas one door, two doors, three doors, four doors, at the fifth we stop. I hear keys rattling, a lock being turned, but I'm barely awake.
A chuckle, sweet and innocent, but playful and coy. 'Come on in.'
The invitation seemed redundant since I wasn't given a choice. Hands are pressed against my chest and the fingers twist and take a tight hold of my jacket. With a short, powerful tug I am pulled into the apartment, stumbling in.
Dizziness attacks me and my kidnapper must have noticed for he or she guides me to the couch and pushes me down onto it. For a moment I am left alone. A few feet away from the couch I occupied I could hear the door being closed, then I am approached once more and a voice speaks up with the hint of a playful grin: 'Let's get you into bed.'
'Yesssss...' I moan and with my eyes closed I blindly search around for the figure, I find his or her hands and feel myself being lifted off the couched and then guided through the apartment, presumebly towards the bedroom.
Soon I'm down on my back again, this time though I am joined by the figure who starts to peel my clothes off. I'm excited about the prospect of sleep and so, to show my contentment, I make soft sounds of grateful pleasure. However, as I did this, the objective of my 'kidnapper' seemed to change and his (or her) touches grew more bold and involved more and more flesh instead of clothing. In the end he seemed to have grown so impatient that my button-up shirt, the last barrier between me and total nudity, is ripped open, the buttons flying in every direction. I start to return the kisses and the touches with a similar fervor.
'Shit!' I exclaim when I find it is no longer the prospect of sleep that excites me... and it shows. //
// AC 204, december 31
'Yes, of course I understand, however I am certain that there is no reason for your concern.'
'...'
'Yes, I am aware of that, very much so, since you've told me three times already in this single conversation-'
'...'
'I wasn't raising my voice I was merely trying to-'
'...'
'Will you please not interrupt me?'
'...'
'No, wait! I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please, is there any way, any way for me to make you change your mind?'
'...'
'Please sir, I know we can do it, have some faith.'
'...'
'I need this contract sir, please, please.'
Hilde walks into my office, her mouth is already wide open, she wants to say something but I shush her by bringing my index finger to my lips. I don't make eyecontact, I can't look at her right now. I continue my phone conversation while I notice Hilde takes a quiet seat on the edge of my desk, like she always does (only then she is never quiet).
'No, I know begging won't help that's not what I-'
'...'
'Then tell me what will help!'
'...'
'Please sir, don't hang up. Please, reconsider, think of what is best for L2. My team is stand-by ready to-'
'...'
'Please sir... I've invested so much money in this project, my company depends on it!'
'...'
'I wouldn't even have to beg if you weren't such a backstabbing asshole! How can you do this me you son of a bitch, we had a deal!'
'-'
'DAMMIT!' I throw the phone against the wall after hearing the beeping tone from the other end of the line. I've never felt this angry or this betrayed. How could he ruin me like this? Just like that? I needed a moment to fight back the tears before I could raise my had and face Hilde, who was still sitting on my desk, looking at me in concern.
'We just lost the Sexton Contract.' I say breathless.
Her face pales, she starts shaking her head. 'No, no that can't be, he promised...' She pauses. 'He said he was merely behind on paperwork...'
'He changed his mind. He won't sign the contract. He has already approached another clean-up crew. On L1.' I say disgusted with his betrayal.
'He can't just do this, can he?' She rises and starts pacing the room.
I shrug, defeated, I should have known this would happen, now that it has I feel so stupid for falling for it. 'He can do whatever he wants. He hasn't signed anything, all we had was his word and we, no, I should have known that words are not enough. Not worth investing 200.000 dollars in...'
'Oh my God...' She exclaims, she stops dead in her tracks and looks at me.
I nod, I knew what she was thinking. 'Yes. We are now, officially, 400.000 dollars in debt... and counting.' I look out my window, looking out over the yard, looking at the men working there, each of their paychecks adding to our debt. I look at the back corner of the lot where 200.000 dollars worth of equipment was parked, ready to fly out into space and collect the debri.
Hilde composes herself. 'Well, than we better get back to work.' She picks up a stack of papers randomly. 'We have other contracts right? And we can get more contracts!'
'Other contracts?' I snort 'Hilde, our entire company was relying on the Sexton Contract. Without that contract we are ruined.'
'Don't say that!' She yells, pointing her finger at me, the stack of papers falls to the floor, scattering. 'We haven't come this far to just... give up! Okay?! We are both soldiers and soldiers don't quit when things get rough.' She kneels down and gathers the papers. When she rises she slams them on my desk, tilts her hip and places her hands on her sides. 'Now are you coming or what?'
'Coming to what?'
'The new years eve party at the club. All the employees are going.' She looks at her watch. 'It's eight O'clock already, the last shift just ended and the party starts in half an hour.'
I sigh and turn my chair to face the window again. 'I don't really feel like partying.' I hear Hilde stomping towards me. I don't even have time to react. She grabs me by my arms and pulls me out of the chair. When we are both face to face she strictly says to me: 'Now you and I are gonna go to that party and you better enjoy yourself, okay? We're in debt, not dead.'
I realise there is no fighting her, there never is. As I follow her out of my office and turn off the lights behind me I wondered how on earth I was ever going to make it through this long night.
When the first pop of firework was heard at midnight, I felt like the entire universe had joined as one to celebrate my failure. //
// AC 205, February 26
'To you.' He raised his glass high.
I nod, give him a fake smile and bring my glass up to meet his. 'Yeah...' I bring down my drink and empty the glass in one gulp before signalling the bartender for a refill.
In sitting in a local bar with Mason Marks, one of my employees. Some may find it inappropriate for the boss to hang out with an employee, but they were the only people in my life, other than Hilde, the only people I ever saw, ever talked to. Who else was I supposed to share a drink with but them? So every friday I head down to the bar, with Mason, my tall, muscular, tanned, dark haired clean-up crew team leader.
Today was a thursday though.
A hot thursday. They reported on the news some of the fuses broke at the weather-simulation plant which controls L2's temperature and weathercondition. Unfortunately it got stuck on extremely hot, no wind, no rain. No relief.
Work had been hell. With our tight budget Hilde and I hadn't thought of placing an airconditiong system in the building so this meant we had to loosen up on the dresscode. Still I spent the better part of the day wiping sweat off my brow.
Mason's clothes were as smelly and sweatsoaked as mine. His beige pants clung to his legs and his once white shirt had wet stains of sweat on his chest, on his back and under his arms, still, we went to the bar straight after work, Mason insisted. He even bought me a drink, something we don't usually do.
I'm staring at his chest, quite shamelessly in fact. I just can't keep my eyes off it. I'm not attracted to him or anything it's just... maybe it's jealousy or feeling threatened because I look less like a man than him. It's ridiculous I know, but feelings don't have to make sense.
Mason chuckles. 'Aren't you gonna drink that?'
I look where he points, my new drink. How long had I been staring at him? With an awkward smile I take hold of the glass and empty it in another single big gulp.
His smile broadens and he shifts a bit in his seat, shifting closer towards me if I'm not mistaken. 'Now tell me, how old are you?'
His question takes me aback. He has never asked any questions before. Usually all we do is share a drink or two in silence, or talk about the weather that is never quite right. Mason has been working for me since the opening of the company, nearly four years, yet I knew no more of him than what I read in his resume the day he handed it to me. Name: Mason Marius Marks. Gender: Male. Date of Birth: Jan 29 AC 176. Education: L2 National College of Technology. Work experience: Team leader clean up crew at 'L3 Clear-Space'.
What did he know of me? My name, my profession, my appearence and that I like my coffee black and prefer wodka over whisky.
I empty the third drink the bartender has given me – without me even asking for a refill - and then say with a little pride: 'AC 180.' Perhaps it made me feel more like a man to declare to him that in my shorter span of life I've attained myself a higher function than he did.
He seems more surprised than impressed. 'So you're only twentyfive?'
I smirk. 'How old did your estimate me?'
Mason shrugs 'At least thirty.'
Suddenly I'm offended so I look away and hope that will end the conversation.
'You were born on L2?'
I nod, not quite sure why I was handing out information about myself so freely. 'Born and raised. What about you?'
He shrugs again. 'Born on L4. Moved to L3 with my parents when I was ten. Came here five years ago. Hope to be on L1 some day soon.'
I chuckle bitterly. I don't say it, because I'm certain he knows, but the odds of someone not L1 born ever living there and working there were astronomical. They were very careful about who they let in their precious space gem and they had a particular aversion to people from L2.
'What are your dreams?'
My turn to shrug. 'I don't have any dreams. I'm very careful when it comes to dreaming, I don't want to get up in the morning regretting that I ever woke up.' The fifth drink goes down my throat I'm already feeling the affects but atleast the chilled drinks cool me from inside out.
'That very deep.' He bring his drink – I don't know how many he's had – to his lips and takes a sip. He sips till the glass is empty and then places it on the bar. He shifts on his barstool again so that his knee is rubbing against mine. At first I thought it was accidental, I responded with an involuntary shiver, but when he continues I realise he is doing it on porpose.
The contact is making my temperature rise even further but strangely I didn't mind, I enjoyed it. We stare into each others eyes as he keeps moving his leg from left to right, his knee rubbing mine. Mason is smirking, I'm just staring at his magnificant face in awe, enjoying the strange stimulation and the unexpected awakening of my sexuality.
Suddenly his movements stop and he gets out of his seat. 'I'm gonna go to the bathroom, fresh up a bit, it's too goddamn hot in here.'
Disappointed I sag a bit in my seat.
Mason continues: 'You look hot too, why won't you join me?'
I realise very well he was inviting me to the bathroom for more than just splashing some cool water in our faces. I also realise I wanted whatever it was he was offering, even if it was wrong, or meaningless, or even painful. I wanted it. So I followed him into the restrooms. No one else was there, it was early so the bar wasn't really crowded, it never is actually.
Mason turns rough with me and pushes me into one of the unsanitary stalls, slamming my face and chest into the wall but I welcomed the pain. He steps in himself and locks the stall door behind him. He come to stand behind me and starts tugging at my jeans.
I realise that he plans to be top and though I don't like to be bottom – this I found out a few years ago during one of the rare occasions that I was having intercourse with another man - I make no objections. Being bottom with another male still beat being top with a woman.
But I wasn't gay. I'm not attracted to any of those guys. Not even Mason, with his perfect body and skilled fingers. I just like the roughness, the speed and the intensity that comes with having sex with a man, top or bottom. The reassurance that I can be rough and hard and fast knowing this will not break them, they will not mind. In fact, they will enjoy it. Women tend to make the sex too heavy, too emotional and I can't stand that. I can't enjoy that because for me, sex has no meaning other than satisfying the body, stilling the hunger all men feel. The hunger God equipped us with to insure reproduction of our species. However, it is up to us as individuals who we prey apon.
My jeans are bunched up at my ankles, my legs are spread, Mason is behind me, sweaty, moving hard and fast, panting loudly. I reach up and take hold of the top edge of the stall wall with rattles and moves along with us.
It's over in a flash. Maybe it's the heat, or maybe we've had this lust for each other ever since we met and now finally we can unleash it in all it's fury. Whatever the reason it was over quickly with two strangled moans, both of us being careful not to call out the other's name.
'Ahhh yes...' Mason says and finally pulls his large body back and leans against the opposite wall, allowing relatively cool air to reach my sweating, hot body again. He smirks. 'God you're good.'
I hoist my pants back up and zip it up. I look up at him. 'I am engaged.' I remind him.
He smirks. 'I am already married.' He shrugs.
'How long?'
He shrugs again. 'Too long.'
'And how long have you been screwing around on the side?'
He chuckles. 'Since before I even met her.'
It saddens me to hear about the fate that awaits me as well.
He reaches out his hand and takes hold of my chin, lifting my face up to make my eyes meet his. 'Seedy restroom stalls and dark alleys are the only place for same sex 'love'. Out there, in the daylight, we all gotta fit the profile if we ever want... more. Because Duo, I know now you are not a dreamer, but even a realist like you must know that there is 'more' than what can be found here.'
He's right. L2 is very unfriendly towards homosexuals. They are outcasts, pariahs and they are silently murdered and no police chief ever looked twice at the case file. Up on L2, people that don't fit the profile... just disappear.
I wasn't about to risk disappearing myself.
'I still need a best man for tomorrow... You interested?'
Mason smiles and gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. 'Sure.'//
// AC 205, September 3
'Yes misses Maxwell, keep going! Push! Push!'
'I can see the head now!'
'AAHHH!!!'
'Push!'
'Come on honey.'
'SHUT UP DUO!' She squeezes my hand tightly, so tight it hurts, but I don't complain. How could I possibly complain about a little pain in my hand while she has been in labour for the past seven, painful, hours?
'You're doing great misses Maxwell.' A nurse spoke, she stood next to the docter, who was standing in between my wife's legs. She was rubbing Hilde's bare leg in soothing circles but obviously it did nothing to eleviate her pain.
The docter smiles. 'The heads out. Come on, only two or three more pushes. You can do this!'
'AAHH!!'
I try to soothe her, I run my hand through her hair but she turns her head and screams: 'I HATE YOU DUO, I HATE YOU!!!'
The nurse to the docters left gives me a look but says nothing, neither do I. I remove my hand from Hilde's hair and just endure it silently. All of a sudden, Hilde's screams turn into harsh pants and a baby starts crying. Before I can respond to the change a small, bloodied, pink, wrinkly body is placed apon Hilde's heaving chest, the unbillical cord still attached. Our baby.
'A baby girl.' The docter announces and reaches for a pair of sciccors.
Our daughter.
No words could ever describe what I'm feeling. For a moment everything seems right in the world, no worries exist, no else exists but me, my baby girl and my wife and for a moment I dare to believe we are a happy little family. For a moment the pessimist, the realist, inside of me does not point out that has never been and never will be. Yes, for a moment, a moment so short, so fragile, I am happy.
'Would you like to do the honours?'
The docters words pull me out of my trance. I look at him, he is holding the sciccors out to me with a smile, he wants me to cut the cord. With shaky hands I take the sciccors. The nurse holds the cord up for me and shows me where to cut. I position the sciccors and squeeze the ends together, I'm suprised at how difficult this is. Suddenly I feel like I am violating a very special bond between mother and daughter, but I don't stop, because I know there is no need for this physical bond. Mother and daughter are tied by blood and unconditional love. With that in mind I press on. The cord is cut.
I hand the sciccors back to the docter and then look at our baby, just as she is being picked up by the nurse to be cleaned and clothed.
Hilde is still lying motionless in the bed, her eyes are clothes her panting is slowly growing softer. Once more I place my hand on her sweaty head. I smile at her. 'You did great.'
'Shut up.' She whispers, her voice hoarse from screaming.
The moment is gone and I remember what reality is like. Hilde and I are not in love, not even our friendship, which I have always thought to be strong and loving, has survived these past nine months. We've become enemies. What makes it worse is that we now share a house, a bed, a life, a responsibility. And we will share it for the rest of our days because we both had to fit the profile...//
// AC 205, january 30
I'm sitting at my desk, in my office, in my office building, staring at my computer screen, my hands dangling above the keyboard, fingers brushing the keys, but I'm not typing. Of course I am not typing, that would be downright stupid. The computer wasn't even on. The lights weren't either, but that was okay, I had no appointments. All I needed right now was to be left alone in the only place I was ever able to take pride of.
Who grows up wanting to become owner of a scrapyard? Not many people I'm sure. And it would be a lie to say that I did, but it was my responsibility to clean up the mess I have made during the war. I made more mess than I could ever hope to clean up, I know, but I had to start somewhere and the debri circling the colony seemed like a good place to start. Owner of a scrapyard... Have you ever heard of such a stupid dream? Such a stupid wish? I didn't ask to be rich. I didn't ask to be famous. I didn't even ask to live long, healthy and happily. All I asked for was to be given the chance to undo my mistakes of the past, but it seems like God can't even grant me that much.
Instead, mistakes just keep piling up and I am suffocating under their weight. There's no air.
There's no escape.
Everytime the alarm goes off there's that same disappointed acknowledment of another long day, of another long week, of another long year.
Einstein's relativity theory.
A vicious circle that's what it is.
'Duo, what are you doing here?'
I look up with my tired eyes to see Hilde standing in the doorway of my office. She isn't dressed for work. She is wearing a thin, loose, white cotton dress that reaches her knees. Her hair is all over the place, like she didn't even comb it this morning. Her eyes are red rimmed, her freckles are showing as is the rosy hue of her cheeks, forehead and chin. I realise this may be the first time I've ever seen her without make-up on.
I shrug, I couldn't really explain why I was here.
'It's sunday.' She continues.
I know.
She steps in and softly closes the door behind her, as if she would disturb someone if she did it even a little bit louder. She walks over and sits down on the edge of my desk. She always does that. I hate that she does that. The desk is starting to wear and it reminds me of what a slutty secretary would do in a low budget porn movie.
'Duo you can't run from me forever.'
Over the course of my life I have become pretty succesful at running, so I might as well try.
'We have to talk.' She 'draws' meaningless patterns on the surface of the desk with her white indexfinger.
The emotions well up so when I speak up, my voice, much to my dismay, cracks. '... did you get tested?'
'Hmhm.'
'And...?'
'The situation hasn't changed.'
I feared it hadn't. 'I just can't believe it... we were safe... weren't we? I mean... Oh God.' I bury my face in my hands and mumble: 'I honestly can't even remember.'
'Duo?'
I look up at her, wishing for her to have the solution to this problem, but deep down I knew she hadn't. Neither of us had.
'Marry me.' She says. I couldn't tell if it was a question or a demand.
I swallow loudly. 'You know I can't.'
'But Duo-'
'You know I can't. I told you I-' I stop myself, saying it once out loud had been painful enough. She knew what I was talking about, there was no need for me to repeat it.
'Duo you have to marry me.' She says with firmer voice. 'Before it shows! I promised my parents I wouldn't have sex before marriage!'
'Let's leave your parents out of this, okay? The situation is complicated enough as it is.'
'I don't see what's so complicated about it? I love you, you love me. We get along great. We have a business together. We have a,' she places her hand on her flat stomach, 'baby together...' She tells the story more romantically than it is.
'First of all, we love each other as friends. Second: we fight all the time, we are two completely different people and we haven't spend that much time together outside of work. Third: We have a bankrupt business together and have huge debts, not the kind of evironment you want to bring a baby into. And last: that baby... was a mistake. We were drunk. I was depressed. I don't even remember most of that night! I just don't think getting married is the right thing to do. It won't fix everything.' I said in hopes of convincing her.
Her face turns as hard and cold as stone. ' 'The right thing to do'? What do you know about doing the 'right thing'? Does the right thing mean using your best friend for sexual gratification to you? Or leaving him after the first war without so much as a goodbye? Or showing up on his doorstep just before the second war and fucking some more with his head and with his feelings? Or leaving him behind a second time around while he was gravely injured and comatose?! Or do you think that telling the docs to pull his plug was 'the right thing to do'?!' She rises and places her hands on her hips like she always did when she was about to give the final blow in a discussion. 'Let's face it Duo,' she started, 'You can't do 'right things'!' She spat venomously. 'That's why you won't marry me. Because you think only about yourself!' She stomps, turns on her heels and leaves with a wet, red face.
I remain seated in my chair. Shaken to the core. My face equally red. Equally wet.
I've always said I wanted to fix the mistakes I had made and if she was so determined this was the way to fix this mistake, than I had no right to say she was wrong, did I? After all, I had no solution, let alone a better one. So what else could I have done but run after her and get down on my knees before her?
You like?
Love,
Crimson.
PS: Yes it's a miracle, I've reread the chapter today at school (03-03-08, only a day after posting!), one of the teachers was sick, and took out the errors. I can't guarantee it's now spelling error and typo free but at least I have managed to make some serious improvements. I'm sorta proud of myself :)