Part Three: Dirty Diapers

Ocean Breeze Daycare. Ami looked up at the cheery sign and smiled, the wind ruffling her hair. Her distraught cousin, Michiru Kaioh, had called that morning, upset at the overload of children and sudden wave of sickness among her workers.

Ami knocked on the door. After only moments, it was thrown open and she was dragged in, stumbling along behind the tall blonde who pulled her. "Work," the blonde said, pushing her toward a jumble of children. Ami stared, wondering where to start. Catching sight of a little brown-haired girl in tears, she knelt beside her on the floor.
"What's wrong?" The little girl sniffled and glared at her. Ami reached over to a table nearby and grabbed some Kleenex, handing them to the little girl.
The little girl swiped her nose on the wad and threw them on the floor, grumpily. "Bobby said I was a poopy-head and I want my mommeeeeeee!" She kicked the floor in a temper tantrum and Ami rocked back on her heels, startled.
A familiar voice spoke from behind Ami's ear and she froze. "You're not a poopy-head, Bobby is. You want a cookie?" A slim, strong hand stretched into view, a chocolate chip cookie in it, and the little girl sniffled in interest, then took the cookie. Ami, suddenly warm enough to move, turned and looked over her shoulder. "Hi," Zoicite smiled nervously, still kneeling just behind her, looking rakish and wind-blown and very, very handsome.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, confused by his presence and the twisting fuzzy feeling in her stomach.
"One of my friends, Nephrite, volunteers here sometimes – Ms. Kaioh called him, but he couldn't make it and asked me if I could come. He kind of has a crush on one of the other volunteers." He grinned, nodding to a tall, friendly-looking brunette across the room, and shrugged. "Why are you here?"
"Michiru is my cousin," she smiled, blushing a little at the talk about crushes. She knew Nephrite and had a vague inkling that Makoto fully reciprocated the feeling. "She asked me to help out."
Zoicite nodded, an uncomfortable silence falling between the two until a little boy toddled up and fell onto Zoicite's knee, drooling on his jeans. Zoicite stared at him, then laughed a little. Ami giggled and their eyes met, all discomfort and unhappiness disappearing like vapor – suddenly they were teenagers again, laughing together over something completely shocking and sweet, connected on a level that was more than just mind or heart. Their souls touched, and Zoicite suddenly knew he was forgiven. He basked in the glow of her smile, having missed it for so many years.
"Cookie?" the little boy on Zoicite's knee asked, looking up at him expectantly, and Ami smiled.
"Looks like you've become rather popular." A small crowd of children now surrounded them. Zoicite cleared his throat uncomfortably and pointed the children to the tray of cookies Michiru had brought out only a minute before – the woman was just then pouring paper cups and sippy-bottles of juice. He settled onto the carpet beside Ami as a tidal wave of demanding children swarmed around the woman's legs. Zoicite grimaced as she almost dropped a cup of juice on the seething crowd of tots.
"Hey, cutie," the blonde, Haruka Tenou, pushed in between Ami and Zoicite, throwing an around Ami's shoulders and winking at her.
"Hi, Haruka," Ami blushed, smiling softly.
Zoicite frowned as he was ungraciously ignored. Who was this guy?
"How's my little mouse today? Feeling better?"
"Quite better, thank you." Ami smiled.
"Mouse here threw up the other day," Haruka told Zoicite, and Ami blushed, looking away.
"Really," Zoicite murmured, looking at Ami in concern.
"Yeah, hasn't been too well lately, have ya?" Haruka held Ami a little tighter and looked at her closely, seemingly pleased that she was becoming uncomfortable.
"I must have picked up a bug from one of my patients," Ami shrugged a little, waving it off, but was still flushed – probably with the proximity of Haruka's teasing face to hers.
Zoicite cleared his throat and glared at Haruka pointedly.
Haruka only seemed to find this amusing and turned again to Ami. "I think your boyfriend here's jealous. What do you say we give him something to be jealous about?" Quick as a flash, Haruka had kissed Ami smartly on the lips.
Ami blinked. Blinked again. And burst into laughter. When she had regained herself, she shook her head at Haruka. "I think that did more to make Michiru jealous than anything," she smiled, traces of laughter undermining her warning. Sure enough, Miss Kaioh was staring at them from beside the cookie tray, mouth pinched in annoyance. When she finally noticed the bright red juice dribbling down her front, she grabbed a handful of napkins and shot Haruka a Look, swiping madly at the stain.
Haruka sighed and grimaced. "Excuse me." She went to the brown-haired helper, Makoto Kino, and told her to finish feeding the kids. Then Haruka took Michiru to help her get the juice stain out.
Zoicite and Ami sat for a moment in silence, not looking at each other. Finally, Zoicite asked her softly "Are you still mad at me?"
"What?" Ami looked at him, still somewhat flushed.
"For trying to pay you," he rushed ahead, "I just wasn't thinking about what I was doing – I always pay my babysitters and I didn't think . . ."
Ami flushed further, but with anger. "No, you didn't think. I would do anything for Jared and you treated me like some pimply-faced school girl in pigtails!"
"Ami . . ." Zoicite winced and glanced at Miss Kino. "People are staring – could we take this somewhere else?"
"Fine," she stood and stormed into the back. Zoicite followed her and shut the door lightly behind them.
Zoicite sighed. "I didn't mean to upset you. I didn't know it would mean so much to you."
"Why not? We were best friends since we were six! You said it yourself, I'm part of your family." She glared at him defiantly.
Zoicite felt a matching anger rise in him and he stepped toward her, green eyes narrowed and voice deceptively soft. "You left."
Ami stopped, something painful and sad crossing her gaze. She opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a shrill beeping.
"Good God," Zoicite cursed, frustrated, and pulled out his cell phone, flipping it open. "What?" he snapped. After a brief silence, he scowled, cast a look heavenward, and sent a clipped "Fine" to the caller, hanging up.
Ami stood silently, struggling with her hurt pride.
"I have to go," Zoicite breathed, annoyed. "Damn, he has the worst timing." He sighed and looked at Ami from under thick blonde bangs. "You wouldn't be able to watch Jared for me if I'm late, would you?"
Ami sighed her anger out. "Fine."
"Thank you." His voice held a note of grudging gratitude, and Ami only nodded as he turned and left.

Ami stayed late, but Zoicite never came back. She was just grabbing Jared and his bag when Makoto Kino came up to her, smiling. Since Ami volunteered regularly on weekends, she and Makoto had managed to strike up their old friendship. She had negligently forgotten to mention that when Zoicite had been talking to her earlier – he might think she was obsessed with kids: pediatrician, volunteering, what next?

"I'm going to the mall to find a dress for my date this Friday – you wanna come?"
Ami bit her lip and looked at Jared. "Okay, but I'm gonna have to bring the baby." As they left, Ami thought to ask. "Who are you going out with?"
Makoto grinned. "Nephrite."
Ami giggled and settled Jared in Makoto's car, checking his seat-belt. "Well, I hope you two have fun." She slipped into the passenger seat.
"We will," Makoto's eyes slipped soft as she daydreamed, starting the car.
Soon they were at the mall, Ami hefting Jared along as they walked, talking and laughing. Ami was certain, as she switched Jared to the other arm, that next time she would make Zoicite lend her the baby stroller.
"So what was the deal with you and blondie back at the daycare?" Makoto called through the dressing room door. "He seemed pretty upset there."
Ami sighed, pulling her chin away as Jared grabbed at it. "Yeah." Makoto opened the door for Ami to pass judgement on a little black dress. "Too slutty," Ami immediately said.
"Mm," Makoto agreed and did a little turn. "I still look good, though, right?"
"Prettiest hooker on the block," Ami smiled, Jared tugged on one of her earrings, and Makoto rolled her eyes.
"So what was with that guy?" Makoto asked when she had settled on a short hunter-green Chinese-cut, patterned in gold.
Ami sighed again. "An old friend."
"Cute old friend," Makoto muttered appreciatively. She eyed Jared. "That his kid?"
Ami hugged the baby tighter to her. "His sister's. He's the guardian, though."
Makoto frowned, voice soft and contemplative. "That must be tough for a single guy."
Ami looked away, troubled. "I'm not sure he's single." She remembered the woman who had brought Jared to the doctor's office, her long tumble of red hair, the huff she had been in, talking as if she knew Zoicite quite personally. At least, as if she associated with him regularly. Then he had talked about "all his babysitters." She wouldn't be surprised if women threw themselves at him – he was very good-looking.
Her reverie was broken by Makoto's loud, healthy laugh. "Sweetie, he's single. For one, I could tell just by the way he was looking at you. For another, not many women would take on a man with a baby for very long – no matter how gorgeous the guy is."
Ami looked at Makoto again, surprised at the truth of her statement – the woman strode along with a presence that demanded attention. She was tall and strong, with a full, firm figure and a daring light in her green eyes, her sense of humor hanging around about her mouth. She was notorious for her flirting abilities – as well as her right hook – and Ami had no choice but to admire the woman's prowess in the kitchen. (On week days, Makoto was the reigning queen of her own restaurant.)
They reached a small, dim coffee shop by one of the mall entrances and took a table by the wall. It was in the middle of a conversation about candle scents that Ami noticed a blonde couple across from the coffee shop. Makoto followed her gaze and snorted.
"That's disgusting," she sipped at her coffee and Ami silently agreed. The two were up against the wall, all over each other. They shifted and Ami noticed a flash of almost completely bare leg. The girl was wearing a black dress even smaller and tighter than the one Makoto had tried on earlier, and now her smooth, nyloned leg was firmly wrapped around the man, in the nook of his knee. It was a very intimate position.
Then the couple shifted and the man glanced behind him at a thin, scraggly-looking man entering the coffee shop, and Ami gasped, her vision spinning.
Zoicite?
"Mm, look at this cutie," Makoto was saying, looking across the coffee shop at a table in the back, but Ami didn't look – she couldn't. Her eyes were locked to the back of a dark blonde head, now bent to the blonde woman's neck, kissing it. The woman was whispering something in his ear, but Ami didn't care, she stood and moved toward Zoicite, everything but that couple blocked out. She didn't hear Makoto's worried call, or see the man in back the latter woman had approved of – a silvery blonde who kept sending annoyed glances across the coffee shop, at the couple. Nor did she see the scraggly, unwashed man join him.
"Zoicite," she whispered roughly, right behind him. The woman stared at her, blue eyes unnaturally wide in surprise, red lips in a perfect "O." Ami didn't look at her. Her entire being, all her rage, was centered on green eyes, shocked wide in horror.
"Ami," Zoicite breathed, white. Suddenly, something hot swept through his eyes, and he grabbed Ami's arm. "What the hell are you doing here?" he hissed.
"What am I doing here?! That's a thing to ask while you're wrapped around some stupid blonde!" Ami ranted, fuming.
"Hey," Zoicite glared, affronted, "I'm not the one who kissed a guy at the Daycare Center!"
Ami tossed her hair, straightening her spine. "If you had bothered to notice," she began, "Haruka is not only dating Michiru, she was trying to annoy you."
Zoicite blinked. ". . . She?"
Ami sighed. "Yes, she. Haruka's a girl."
"Are you sure?" he looked skeptical, blonde eyebrows drawn together.
"You're one to ask," Ami growled, getting hot again, "making out in the middle of a mall with some silicone-based slut with a bad dye job!"
Minako's eyes widened and she peered at a handful of hair. It wasn't dye . . . Though it was quite interesting watching her old college roommate blow up. She leaned against the wall to enjoy the show.
"Hey," Zoicite glared. He might have been uncomfortable with his position on this job (he knew Kunzite was planning to kill him afterward), but Minako didn't deserve that kind of deprecation. He refrained, admirably, from stating this, since it would jeopardize the security of the job, but a thought struck him. "What are you even doing here? Where's Jared?"
"He's here – in the coffee shop."
"You left him alone?!" Zoicite cried.
"No, you idiot! I came here with a friend – she's watching him."
Zoicite sighed in relief, looking as if he'd really been scared.
Ami just shook her head, calming a little. "You told me you weren't coming in so late because you were out with women. You should have had the decency to tell me the truth."
Minako spotted the target coming out of the coffee shop and slunk away from the argument, approaching the man. Their suspect had a weakness for two things – drugs and women. Their team had devised a way to play on both.
"I was working," Zoicite snapped. He waved an arm, not missing that Minako had approached the man they were watching. "Why do you even care?!"
Ami's face was red with fury, her eyes sparking and flashing. "Because I love you, you idiot!" she snapped, and her hand flew to her mouth, eyes widening. "Oh God," she turned away and flew into the coffee shop, Zoicite staring at her retreating form.
It was then that he noticed their perp trying to steer Minako out of the mall. He tried to rectify his mistake and took a step in that direction when Jadeite swept by him, pushing him back a little with a sympathetic wink, and went after the couple.
Relieved, Zoicite slipped into the coffee shop and trotted over to Ami and Makoto's table, where the former was desperately trying to gather baby, diaper bag, and purse in her arms – an interesting feat since tears were blinding her. When Zoicite considerately took Jared from her, she whirled and dropped both the bags, bending feverishly to pick them up.
"Good thing I didn't take your purse," Zoicite murmured, lifting an eyebrow wryly.
Ami sent him a poisonous glare.
"Ami," he whispered, bending down to help her pick up the diapers that had spilled everywhere. "Please talk to me. I'll take you home, but you have to talk to me."
"I have a ride," she bit back. He touched her shoulder gently, but pulled back when she hit him in the face with a diaper.
Makoto surveyed them with a growing interest and finally stepped in. "No you don't," she told Ami smoothly. The slender woman stuffing diapers heatedly back into the bag froze and looked up, her eyes wide.
"What?"
Makoto put one fist on her hip and took Ami aside for a moment. "Girl, I don't know what's going on and I don't know what you're playing at, but the way that man's looking at you – has been looking at you all day – I think it's best you talk to him."
Ami glared, but Makoto stood firm and saw Ami into Zoicite's van, the former fuming indignantly the whole way. Makoto told them she'd take Jared for the night, since they needed some quiet.
"Ami," Zoicite looked at her in the passenger-side seat, staring out of the window and ignoring him. Anger flared up in his stomach. She wouldn't even listen to him! "Ami," he said sharply, and she turned to glare at him, her blue eyes sullen and wet. He sighed, the anger fading as quickly as it had come.
She had, after all, professed her love of him back there.
"Did you mean it?" he finally said, gazing at the dashboard.
Ami flushed, losing her glare, and looked away. There was no way she could play that one off. She sighed and closed her eyes painfully. "Yes." She kept seeing that woman wrapped around him. It hurt.
Zoicite let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. He sat back and surveyed Ami with slowly burgeoning joy. She loved him. He impulsively leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "I am going to prove to you, right now, that the girl was absolutely nothing to me." He started the van and Ami looked at him apprehensively.
"What do you mean?" She was twisting the material of her shirt in suddenly damp hands, but he didn't reply immediately. They were heading down a busy street, the street lights flickering over them as they moved, and Ami had a flash of deja vu as she looked at Zoicite's thoughtful profile, his long slender fingers lightly manipulating the wheel.
"I'm taking you to work with me," he murmured as they pulled up to a parking garage in a particularly quiet part of town.
The streetlight across from the entrance was burnt out.
"Hey Mr. James," the security guard greeted, peering inside the van. His brow furrowed. "Who's the girl?"
"This is Dr. Mizuno," Zoicite replied with perfect calm and confidence. Ami tried to smile.
The guard frowned oddly at Zoicite, but let them through.
Zoicite parked the van among an assortment of cars, several of them with licence plates obscured by mud and filth.
"Come on," he took Ami's elbow gently and led her across the garage to an elevator, punching in a complicated code on the number pad beside the yellowing doors.
They stepped onto the elevator, the floor stained dark in several spots, as if someone had dropped a lot of grape juice around and it hadn't been cleaned properly.
"What do you do, Zoicite?" Ami asked softly as they started moving.
He looked at her sideways, noticing the lock of hair she pushed behind her ear and how her eyes traveled over the blood stains on the floor. He felt a sudden wave of tender protectiveness and wished fervently that she would stop looking at the stains.
"I'm a technology expert for this security business," he said, hands in his pockets.
Ami looked up at him hesitantly and pushed a little more hair behind her ear. "And that should make me trust you . . . why?"
"People hire us, Ami, and we take care of things the police don't have time for. That jerk we caught today had just gotten out on parole and killed someone – the brother of the deceased got us to catch the guy on drug use and a few other things – anything that would violate the guy's parole and put him back in jail for awhile. They assigned me the job of hanging with the 'hooker' until the guy came along." Zoicite took Ami's chin and turned her reluctant face towards him, smiling faintly. "If it weren't for your outburst, I'd probably have gotten a face full of her boyfriend's fist when we all got back. He was in the coffee shop, playing the muscle for a drug dealer."
Ami frowned. "She has a boyfriend?" Zoicite chuckled and nodded, but the elevator doors opened before she could say anything else.
Ami started to move, but found a tight arm around her waist, pulling her against Zoicite's tall, strong body. "I'm in real trouble for bringing you here," he murmured in her ear before they stepped out, "so follow my lead and keep your eyes down."
Ami said nothing and moved as he pushed her lightly, keeping one hand on the small of her back. She ignored the stares and odd looks people gave when they entered, keeping her eyes down and concentrating on the feel of Zoicite's warm fingers on her back. Near the end of the office, Ami saw familiar long, stockinged legs and followed them up to a little black dress smaller than the one Makoto had tried on earlier, smooth white skin, soft lips painted startlingly red, a straight, classic nose, blue eyes wide with surprise, and a fall of gloriously long, silken wheat-blonde hair. The girl was sitting on the edge of a desk, picking at her nails as a man with silvery-blonde hair and sharp grey eyes stood close by and talked to her.
Ami stopped and stared. "Minako?!"
The girl sent Zoicite a confused and very concerned look, then smiled in bemusement at Ami. "Hey girl. Long time, ne?"
Zoicite stepped up. "You two know each other?"
"Roommates in college," Minako replied easily, turning to chastise Zoicite. "You didn't tell me all the details, Zoi-boy. If I'd known it was Ami you were talking about all the time, I could have helped. Though," she winked at her blue-haired friend, "it was really cool seeing my oh-so-serious pal blow up at an idiot guy."
"I resent that," Zoicite muttered sullenly.
"It's true," Minako told him relentlessly, tossing her hair. "If you had been smart, you would never have let such a great gal go," Minako hugged Ami, then straightened as she saw something over Zoicite's shoulder. "Uh oh," she muttered.
Only moment's later, Ami found out what "uh oh" was.
"What the hell?! James, get in my office!" someone yelled roughly. "NOW!" Ami turned and saw a fuming man of stocky build and balding head. He had a dress shirt and tie on, but they were ill-pressed and too loose to look dressy. There were stains under the arms and the man had a sweaty, round face that at the moment was flushed an unpleasant red.
"Sir," Zoicite nodded, pressing Ami's arm, indicating that she stay, and walked into the office, followed by the man. Ami was surprised, after the door slammed, that she could hear nothing going on inside.
Good insulation, she mused.
"So you're the babysitter," Minako murmured, looking at Ami curiously. "How do you like Jared?"
Ami perked up. "He's adorable! I really like kids – of course, that's why I'm a pediatrician – but I'm really fond of him, especially since he's Gertrude's boy." Ami smiled, then flushed a bit. "Oh, Gertrude is Zoicite's big sister," she added.
"Yeah," Minako nodded. "I knew Gertrude: we all did. She worked here until last year, when she was killed." Minako's voice trailed off and she looked away.
Ami stopped. "Zoicite said she died in childbirth when he was in college."
Minako seemed startled. "No, he got out early. They worked here for awhile together, and he supported her when she was pregnant with Jared." She looked at the dawning dejection on Ami's face. "Sit down sweetie, and have some coffee. It's horrible – Jadeite made it – but it might steady your nerves." She watched Ami sipping at the mug Kunzite had brought her. "I'm sure he was just trying to spare you from all this stuff. I'm sorry I told you – I shouldn't have."
"I'm glad you did," Ami replied fiercely. "At least you're being honest with me."
Minako tilted her head a little. "I think Zoicite tried to be honest with you – as much as he could, in this line of work."
"Why does it all have to be so secretive?" Ami frowned.
"Because we do a bit of spy work, too – for the government. If there's a leak, some of the people in here could be killed."
Something clicked. "Is that how Gertrude died?"
Minako blinked and gave a wan smile. "Yeah. Someone blabbed to the wrong people and she was shot in the back of the head just a month after the little guy was born. We all took it kinda hard – she was a cool chick."
Ami nodded, remembering Gertrude's dramatic flair for clothes: black Gothic dresses, leopard print tights, knee-high boots, and hot pink skirts. She had a brief stint with smoking, but ditched it when her mother bribed her with ten pairs of assorted platform shoes. All around, though, Gertrude did a lot of things for Ami – drove her and Zoicite around when they were still too young for licenses, went out and got fast food for them all when Mrs. James had an evening engagement, and helped Ami and Zoicite take care of the little stray kitten they adopted (single-handedly organizing the funeral after a truck hit it a week later). She even (Ami blushed at the memory it brought up) lent Ami swimsuits when she forgot hers.
"Ami," a gentle hand slipped to her shoulder from behind and she turned to look at Zoicite. He was gazing at the leg of the desk as he spoke to her. "He wants to see you." Ami couldn't help noticing with trepidation that Zoicite's hair was slightly mussed and he looked as if he'd just come back from war.
The office was dim, since the only light given was from a shaded lamp in the back corner. The broad, sweaty man stood beside the lamp, pouring a glass of clear liquid for himself, and didn't turn when she shut the door behind her.
Ami stood beside the door for a while, trying not to fidget, and when he finally looked at her it was with eyes swallowed by the room's darkness. It seemed almost as if he had no eyes – just black pits ready to swallow her and suck her dry of all life and love.
"In exchange for your knowledge of us," the man finally said, the dark pits deeper and more terrifying than before, "you have to do us a favor."