Part Two: Reunion

Dr. Ami Mizuno sighed fondly as she watched her mother bustle about the new clinic, straightening things and giving tips on how to handle unruly patients. Usagi Tsukino was straightening things behind the receptionist area – she would work for Ami in the clinic while waiting for Mamoru to get through his schooling. They were engaged, but he wanted to get his Masters degree before getting married. Ami had gotten her Masters early through a very tough couple years – it wasn't usually the recommended way, since many failed the course's strenuous demands, but Ami had conquered it. She was very proud of herself.

Ami bent down to pick up some of the toys that had been tossed negligently next to a pile of blocks. Some of them were her old toys, and she fingered the lace dress of a brown-haired doll fondly before setting it on the low red toy shelf by her old teddy-bear. She turned around and looked at the room. The walls had a fun, colorful animal print on them, the couches were red, yellow, and green, and the carpeting was blue so that it wouldn't leave a noticable stain if a child threw up on it. The front room was large enough that she had been able to fit a Play-Child slide on the other end of the room, with a see-saw (both of them bright, hard plastic) and have room to spare.
Ami's mother came over and kissed her on the cheek, tears in her eyes. "You're all set, dear."
Ami smiled. "Then let's open."

It was a hectic Thursday, several weeks after the grand opening of Ami's clinic. Her mother often popped by to help out when she had time, and Ami wished she would skip that surgery today to help with the horde of toddlers and screaming babies. It was so packed because it was the last day she was giving free immunization shots for flu season and everyone seemed to have waited until the last minute. Usagi had helpfully started a game of "telephone" with some of the littler kids, which kept them quiet for awhile.

"There ya go," Ami murmured to the little boy, band-aiding his arm, and smiled. His lower lip was trembling and his eyes were watering, but he gave a half-smile back. He liked the pretty doctor, in her light button-down dress and white lab coat.
"Doctor! Doctor!!" The door flew open and a woman holding a little blonde baby stood there, looking ferocious. "Are you the doctor?" she demanded of Ami, who only nodded dumbly. "Good. I have five minutes left to my lunch break and this kid needs his shots." She shoved the baby ungraciously at Ami, who took him and lay him on the examination table, prepping another needle.
The woman was tossing her hair, eyes flashing. "I can't believe that idiot left me with the kid like that. I was being gracious – I didn't think he would stick me with a baby and then be late to pick it up! Boy, when I get my hands on him . . ."
"Knock knock? Hello?" a man's voice came from the doorway and the woman whirled around.
"There you are! You know, I just have two minutes to get back to work – goodbye."
There was a brief silence as Ami finished the needle, then a "Yeesh. That's the last time I take advice from Jadeite."
She turned around and smiled sympathetically – then froze. "Zoicite?"
The man stared at her. "Ami?"
He was a few inches taller than he'd been when she'd last seen him, but she had grown a bit, too. She was a little over average height, and came up to his nose. His hair was longer than the curly shoulder-length mop he used to wear, and its curl was kept in control with some kind of gel or mousse. His chin was stronger and his form a little broader, to equate with the new height, though he would never be thought much more than slim – as handsome as he had ever been, but with a little more polished masculinity about him. His eyes were the same, though. A shining green that caught the light and glittered with humor and joy and some odd emotion that Ami didn't want to place.
Ami herself had changed enough, though, too. Zoicite noted immediately that she was taller, but also that she had filled out a bit more and, while still delicately slender and painfully proper, carried an unconscious sensuality about her form – the fact that she was not aware of it only made it more deliciously palpable. Her hair had grown out a bit, long and thick enough to be put in a small ponytail, and lightened to a sweet cerulean from days spent swimming in the English sun. Her features had fined out, her nose straight and delicate, forehead smooth and line-less, chin small and prim, lips full and smooth, and eyes, her ever dark, mysterious eyes, were still blue and just now swimming with a multitude of emotions.
"You haven't been eating right," she said finally.
"What?" he blinked, confused.
She flushed, checked her needle, and turned to the baby that lay fidgeting on the table. "You're too thin," she murmured, swabbing the babe's arm with alcohol. "You haven't been eating right."
Zoicite chuckled dryly. "What can I say – I'm not as good a cook as my mom." He watched anxiously as she gave the baby it's shot. It was not old enough yet to be crawling about, but could squirm and flop over with admirable skill and agility.
"There we go," she murmured to the child, getting rid of the needle. Placing a big, bright band-aid on it's arm, she picked the child up and carried him to Zoicite. As he took the little boy from her arms, she asked "Your . . . son?" and glanced up at him with those fathomless blue eyes, not quite managing to hide the discomfiture in her voice.
Zoicite stared at her, hefting the little boy on his slim hip. "Um . . . no!" he shook his head, "no. He's Gertrude's, my nephew."
"Oh," Ami replied, relief lighting her eyes. "How is Gertrude?" she finally asked.
Zoicite paused. "Dead." At Ami's horrified gasp, he gave a vague smile that did nothing to reassure her. "Died in child-birth. It happened while I was in college. I would have told you, but . . ." he looked away, voice dropping to a whisper, "you didn't seem to want to hear from me, and I didn't know how to reach you."
"Oh, Zoicite," Ami's eyes filled with tears and she put a hand on his arm. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know . . . I wish I could have been there for you . . . I'm sorry."
"It's okay. I just feel bad because I wasn't there when your dad died. I found out about it after the funeral was over, from some girls in class. I felt so horrible that you had to go through that alone . . ." he touched her cheek.
"I wasn't alone," Ami said, her eyes downcast – but she didn't move away from his touch. "My mom was there – and the girls. They've all been a big help these last couple years."
"Ami . . ." he took his hand away and she looked up. "It really hurt when I found out. I thought you would've at least called me . . . I thought you hated me."
"No!" Ami threw herself into his side, hugging him almost desperately. "No, I didn't hate you, I never could. I was just so scared. I didn't want to face you again -- I felt so horrible about daddy . . . I couldn't handle any more emotional stress."
Zoicite went still. "I was . . . emotional stress to you," he said carefully. Ami stepped away from him, staring at the hurt she saw in his face.
"Zoicite . . ."
"No, it's okay. I really should go, though . . ."
"Ami!" the door burst open and a young woman stood there, looking harassed. "These people are getting impatient!"
"Oh!" Ami's hand flew to her mouth. She had completely forgotten about all her patients! What kind of doctor was she?! "Um," she turned to Zoicite, flustered and agitated, and he took the hint.
"I'll see you later, Ami," he kissed her lightly on the cheek, hefted the baby further onto his hip, and shouldered the bag the woman had dumped by the door.
Usagi watched him go with a curiously amused expression. When he was gone, she turned to Ami and gave the blushing woman an impressed look. "Nice job, Ami. Shall I send back the next patient, or do you think you might be getting fresh with Mrs. Womack?"
"Shut up," Ami muttered, her cheeks burning.

Ami got home late that Friday, worn and bedraggled, hair falling out of the neat bun she had put it up in. She shucked her lab coat and tossed it on the couch, putting her feet up on the coffee table, and leaned her head back, massaging her temples for the pounding headache that had been with her since after lunch when she had to give shots to a pack of screaming triplets.

She groaned when the phone rang and just let the machine pick it up, tossing a throw-pillow at the offensive noise and missing. Soon, a familiar voice started and Ami sat up. 'Hey, Ami, sorry to bother you. Your receptionist gave me this number. I just needed a babysitter tonight and everyone else was busy – but I guess you are too, since you're not home.' There was a pause. 'Anyway. It was nice seeing you yesterday. Maybe we could get together some time – lunch or something. I guess I'll go – ' he stopped because Ami had picked up.
"Zoicite?" she asked.
'Hi,' he answered, sounding a little startled.
She paused. "What was that about needing a babysitter?"
He let out a dry laugh. 'They're making me work tonight. I have to leave in a little bit. Do you think you could come over and watch Jared for me?'
"I guess so."
He gave her directions and soon she was on her way to his apartment, hands damp on the wheel in nervousness.
Zoicite let her into an apartment that might have been very tidy except for the baby clothes and toys cast around. There was a brief pile of dirty dishes in the kitchen, and he led her back to the baby's room. "If he wakes up, his bottle is in the fridge and diapers are in the bathroom, under the sink. If he's hungry, there are some Cheerios in the cabinet. I think that's it." He looked around the apartment, trying to think if he'd forgotten anything. He seemed very nervous.
"Don't worry," she put a hand on his arm, hoping to calm him, and he gave her an appreciative look. "What are you working late for?" She realized that she didn't even know what he did for a living.
He flushed. "There's a, um, . . . thing." At her confused look, he scratched his head and winced. "I'll see you later, okay?"
Respecting his privacy, she nodded and watched him leave, grabbing a dark blue jacket on his way out.
"Bye, Ami. And thanks."

Zoicite arrived at the gas station a few minutes late, and Jadeite got onto him for it. "It's bad enough I have to do this," the blue-eyed blonde muttered, "without you turning my stomach up in knots by being late." Zoicite smirked at the man's talk, quietly and efficiently hooking up Jadeite's wire. The latter man had on a bullet-proof vest as well, since the guy they were trying to catch had a habit of shooting people without much provocation.

After surreptitiously checking the security cameras, Zoicite watched Jadeite take the night shift from the clerk. Zoicite sighed and bought a cup of coffee from his friend, taking it out to the van around back. He noted happily that the security cameras were feeding through to the monitors in the van quite clearly.
Kunzite, a broad man with pale hair and eyes and darkly tanned skin, looked immediately to the cup of dark liquid in Zoicite's hand. "You have coffee," he said resentfully.
"No," Zoicite said, answering the unbidden question. "I'm not getting you any. You're addicted to the stuff as it is."
"What about me?" a voice piped up from behind Kunizite, and a blonde head poked around him.
Zoicite snorted, smiling. He couldn't help but smile when Minako was around. "You don't need any." It was true. She was a golden little bottle of energy, and could stay awake for exorbitant amounts of time just through willpower. He was a little afraid of what a Minako on caffeine would be like. They probably noticed the shudder he gave, but didn't say anything. Kunzite and Zoicite had gone to college at Tokyo University together, been roommates, and were good friends. But Minako had known Kunzite all through school, so it was only natural that a flame spring back up between the two when she came to work with the Tokyo Mercenary Grep – a privately owned security business. Zoicite tried to be supportive of their relationship, but he was rather annoyed at how much time Minako took from Kunzite's schedule – leaving less and less time for his friends. Nowadays Zoicite was lucky to see his old chum anywhere but at work.
Zoicite sat back against the side of the van and finished his coffee. They had fallen silent again. "You know," he crossed his legs, feeling quite calm and happy at his sudden thought, "I have a beautiful woman in my apartment right now."
"Really?" Kunzite looked at him, impressed, but sobered at Minako's disapproving glare. "Um, I mean, that's terrible. You shouldn't have to make the poor girl wait for you – we could be out here all night."
Zoicite shrugged. "Not like she'd let me do anything with her anyway – she's just babysitting."
"Oh, really?" Minako perked up at the mention of the baby. "How is Jared?"
"Doing better," Zoicite smiled. "I've gotten used to having him around, but buying diapers and stuff digs into my savings."
"Just think about when he goes to college," Minako smirked and Zoicite grimaced delicately.
"I'd rather not."

It was two in the morning when Zoicite got home. The perp they were hired to catch had shown up around midnight and it had all been rather quick, but the police had demanded all the proper paperwork be filled out immediately. Minako and Jadeite had been allowed to go home while he and Kunzite stayed. He flexed his wrist and opened the door, hand still cramped from all the writing and eyes bleary with sleep.

Zoicite smiled when he saw a silky blue head resting on the arm of his couch. Ami had fallen asleep, half curled on the cushions, eyes closed and hair falling over her cheek.
"Ami, honey," he murmured, shaking her shoulder. She stirred but didn't wake. "Ami," he chuckled, thinking of how cute she looked.
Unfocused blue eyes fluttered open, disoriented, and Ami sat up groggily, putting a hand to her head.
"Hey, Sleeping Beauty," he smiled at her.
"Zoicite," she repressed a yawn. "What time is it?"
"2 A.M.," he replied, smile turning pained as her eyes widened. "I know, I'm really late – I'm sorry. They kept me much longer than I had expected." It was a lie, of course. He had actually not expected to be back this early, but if he'd mentioned that Ami would be curious about his job, and he wasn't allowed to talk about it.
"Oh," she replied, eyes suddenly finding the couch cushions incredibly interesting. After a moment, she spoke hesitantly. "Zoicite . . . we're both adults, and you don't have to lie if you were out with someone."
He blinked at her, startled, then turned her face to his, breath catching when she closed her eyes and leaned her cheek into his palm. It was obvious that she was too tired to be thinking about what she was doing, but it was still sweet. "Ami," his voice came out in a hoarse whisper and he swallowed, then tried again. "Ami, I wasn't out with anyone. I really was working. Promise."
She yawned, falling forward onto his chest, and nuzzled his shoulder. "I'm too sleepy to care," she murmured, limp.
Zoicite, blushing, refrained from chuckling and instead scooped her up, carrying her to the room just past Jared's and pushing the door open. He put her down on the rumpled dark blue bed and watched her curl up again, smiling faintly. Glancing around, he noticed the slightly unkempt state of the room and tidied up a bit before grabbing a spare blanket and going back to the couch, noting that he'd remembered to lock the door. He was asleep almost as soon as he lay down.

Zoicite woke up to the smell of bacon. It was a warm, cosy aroma, wrapping him in it's crackling scent, giving him a feeling he hadn't had since he'd left home. He got up, massaging a crick in his neck from the uncomfortable difference of sleeping on the couch, and walked over to the kitchen doorway. Ami puttered about in the same skirt and tank top she had been wearing the night before – though a bit more rumpled from sleeping in them.

She didn't notice him right away, and Zoicite was happy just to watch her frying bacon, humming under her breath. A carton of eggs stood open next to the stove and she started putting the finished bacon on a plate covered with paper towels to absorb the extra grease. When she finished, she cast a look behind her, as if to check for Zoicite on the couch, and started, staring at him.
"Um," she stammered, then collected herself. "Do you like your eggs scrambled or fried?"
"Fried," he said softly, giving her a curious look, but she only flushed and turned to the egg carton, picking one out delicately and breaking it into the pan. Zoicite was bemused. She had been so warm and sweet last night, and now it seemed she was afraid of him. He'd felt it in the doctor's office when he saw her – an uncomfortable tension that told him she was no nearer to accepting his old declaration of love than when he had given it.
At least she was talking to him now, he theorized. And making him breakfast – he almost grinned, but turned away so she wouldn't look again and see his joy. Zoicite decided to go clean up a bit while she was making the eggs – his mouth felt like something had died in it.
Ami's heart was pounding. She hadn't known he had been watching her, and when she saw him he had been wearing a disarmingly tender smile. She tried to ignore the weakness in her knees from seeing him, tousled and charming in the morning sunlight, and finally knocked the feeling away by concentrating on the eggs.
Zoicite brushed his hair and tied it back hurriedly. Checking himself once more in the mirror, he went out and into Jared's room, already smelling his morning work. His nose wrinkled and he went over to the already whining child, picking him up and carrying him to the changing table. "If there wasn't a beautiful woman in the kitchen making us breakfast," Zoicite whispered as he worked, "this would be much more unpleasant."
Finally, he carried Jared out to the living room, where he had one of the nicest sights – Ami arranging their breakfast on the coffee table. He daydreamed for a moment that this happened every morning – that they were a nice, happy little family, that Ami would look up and smile, kiss him on the cheek, and they would all eat together.
But then Ami looked up and paused, blushing, then straightened abruptly. "It's a thank-you," she gestured to the steaming bacon and eggs, "for letting me stay here last night. It would have been really dangerous to drive home so late . . ."
Zoicite waved it off, going over to sit down and settle Jared in the child seat Ami had pulled in. "I'm just glad you're not mad for making you stay so long." He looked up at her apologetically and she looked away.
"I don't mind," she murmured, nibbling a piece of bacon.
Zoicite started cutting up Jared's eggs for him and smiled. "I must admit, I'm notorious for having to work long nights. It's really hard to keep any one babysitter for long. Especially since I can't pay much." His eyes flashed and he suddenly dug in his pocket. "That reminds me – here." He was holding out a wad of crumpled bills, and Ami just stared at them.
"Zoicite . . ."
"For babysitting. It's not much, but you earned it." He insisted. When she didn't take it, he put it on the table by her plate.
Ami fought the tears back. He was paying her?! She'd come over because – well, he was an old friend. She'd done it for him, not money. It felt as if he'd slapped her. "I . . . should go," she stood up, turning blindly, and felt hands on her shoulders, stopping her.
"Ami, please don't," Zoicite said, and she chanced a look up at him. He looked worried and scared and unhappy. "I'm sorry, what did I do wrong? I'll make it up, just please don't go."
"Zoicite," she shook her head, the tears filling her eyes despite herself. "I didn't do it for money, I did it for you!" She grabbed her purse and left him standing there, baffled and miserable, while the eggs got cold.

"And then she left," Zoicite muttered wretchedly, chin in his hand. The other four listening to him sat in silence for awhile, the three men as confused as Zoicite was, Minako gaping at him in horror.

"You tried to pay her?!" the blonde finally burst out, as if that was the worst thing in the world.
"What's wrong with that?" Zoicite asked, defensive. "I always pay my babysitters." He felt a squirming in his stomach, as if he had done something wrong, but he still didn't know why she had gotten so upset about it.
Minako gave a long-suffering glance heavenward and looked back at Zoicite. "She said she came over for you. Don't you even get that? She had to knock down her pride to start associating with you again, and from what you tell us, she's not the most outgoing girl. When you treated her like just some other 'babysitter,' you really hurt her feelings. It probably felt like you'd punched her in the gut or something."
"So I hurt her feelings by treating her like I would anyone else," he said slowly, just barely catching on.
"Yeah," Minako said, as if it was completely obvious. "I know I'd kill him if I came back from college and he treated me like a stranger." She glared at Kunzite, who looked a little nervous. "And she sounds a little like this friend I had a while back. If they're anything alike, then I pity you trying to get back on her good side."
"So what do I do?" he asked slowly.
"You apologize and make it up to her."
"How?"
Minako shrugged. "You were her best friend – you'd know her better than I would."
The phone rang and the little meeting broke up. They had the rest of the day off since they'd worked all the last night. Zoicite was picking up his coat when one of his listeners, Nephrite Brown, came over to him.
"Zoi, would you mind doing me a favor?"