Mobile Fighter G Gundam: Anonymous
Chapter III: Two Necessarily Lone Phone Calls
Chibodee was right. Why do we have to stay in a hotel that doesn't have air conditioning? Gina complained inwardly. "I need ice cream," she said out loud.
"No one's stoppin' ya from goin'," Chibodee pointed out. He was sitting in a different chair this time. One that wasn't so large and fluffy.
Gina considered the matter. "Can I borrow some money?" she asked hopefully.
"No," Chibodee replied.
"Please, Mr. Crickett," Gina begged.
Chibodee sat up. "Definitely not if you keep on calling me that! It's CROCKETT! C-R-O-C-K-E-T-T! Crockett!"
"That's what I said. 'Crickett'," Gina replied, smiling sweetly.
"UGH!" Chibodee threw his hands up in hopelessness and sank back into his chair. "Just call me Chibodee then."
"Could we possibly discuss the matter of your name later? I'm sure you feel very strongly about the subject, but I'm really dying of the heat, here," Gina begged.
"Join the club," Chibodee grunted, and sank lower into his chair.
"Mr. Crickett-" Gina stopped and corrected her mistake. "Mr. Crocket, I don't think you should do that.too late." Gina winced as Chibodee and the chair went tumbling backwards. "Now can I have some money?" she asked, walking over to where Chibodee was removing himself from the death grip of yet another chair.
"Fine. Just no more than ten bucks. I need my money for my own selfish purposes too, ya know. Like SUEING THIS D*** HOTEL!!" Chibodee agreed grumpily.
"Thanks, Mr. Crickett!" Gina called over her shoulder as she deftly removed ten dollars from Chibodee's wallet and raced out the door.
"It's CROCKETT!" Chibodee yelled after her as he lifted the chair and placed it against a wall. "What is wrong with this hotel?" he muttered under his breath. Just to be safe, Chibodee decided to sit on the floor this time.
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"Perfect," a young man with sandy blond hair and crystal blue eyes murmured under his breath as he watched the famous George de Sand walk down the street. I wonder how much a Gundam fighter like him would have in his back pocket, the man thought and started following George. Thousands, I bet. Probably enough to last me and Jacque a lifetime. He continued following the completely unsuspecting George.
The man's eyes narrowed. Do princes-or whatever he is-even carry wallets around? he pondered. Oh well. You never know until you try. Anyway, I can get away. Always have before. Suddenly, the blond-haired man sprang forward, grabbed, George's back pocket, pulled out a thin wallet, and started running off at the speed of light-or so he thought. The man had accomplished everything except running away. George had deftly grabbed on to the thief's shirt.
"I highly suggest you-" George was cut off as the man punched him in the stomach. "Ow!" he shouted, rather undignified. No one can pack a punch that powerful except Chibodee!
George jumped up and ran after the young theif.
D***! the man thought. Why do there have to be so many twists and turns in Paris? He looked back. George was gaining on him. D***! he thought again. I have no clue where I am! The man started running again, but crashed head-on into a wall of a man.
"Argo!" George shouted in joy as he caught up with the thief-who was now imprisoned by Argo. "What are you doing here, mon ami?"
Argo shrugged. The theif punched him in the stomach and Argo grunted in pain. The Neo-Russian grabbed the man's arm and twisted it backwards. This time is was the thief who grunted in pain.
"He's strong," Argo observed.
"You noticed," George agreed dryly, rubbing his stomach.
"Let me go!" the young man shouted and tried to get free of Argo's grip, to no avail.
"I think we should bring him back to my house," George suggested.
Argo nodded in agreement and the two started dragging the man with them.
"No! You-you can't! What are you going to do with me? I have a brother to take care of! You can't send me to jail! Please," the theif begged.
"We have no intention of sending you to jail-unless you keep up that whining," George said calmly.
"We don't?" Argo asked.
"You don't?" the young man asked at the same time.
"No," George replied shortly.
They soon arrived at George's large mansion, located right next to the palace.
"Bonjuer, Monsieur de Sand," a servant said as he answered the door. The servant raised an eyebrow quizzically as Argo entered, holding the struggling theif, but said nothing.
George walked into a private living room and the other two followed. He dismissed the servants with a have of his hand.
"What's your name, monsieur?" George asked the thief.
"DuChanps. Rye DuChanps," the man mumbled, his eyes on the ivory floor.
George nodded and snatched his wallet back from Rye. "Let him go, Argo," George said.
Argo obeyed, but protested. "I don't think this is a good idea, George."
"Thank you for your concern, mon ami, but I know what I'm doing," George said. "Where did you learn to punch like that, monsieur DuChanps?" he questioned Rye.
"I taught myself," Rye mumbled.
"You taught yourself?" George echoed in disbelief.
Rye nodded.
"Monsieur, I find it very hard to believe that you taught yourself how to fight like that," George said skeptically.
"But I did!" Rye defended himself.
"Calm down," George said. He walked over to the phone and dialed a very long telephone number. "Hello?" he asked into the phone. "Domon?"
"Hey, George!" the famous Domon Kasshu replied happily. "How are you?"
"Fine. Yourself?"
"Well, besides the fact that Rain is around here twenty-four-seven and that she bosses me around like crazy-Ow! What was that for, Rain?" Domon was distracted by his wife.
"Domon, I was robbed today," George said solemnly once Domon and Rain had finished arguing.
"Huh? So? Why are you calling me?" Domon asked, puzzled.
"Well, actually, the thief didn't get away. He's in my living room now-"
"Remind me why this is important?"
"He's a s good a puncher as Chibodee," George said.
"What? No one is as good as Chibodee! It's like virtually impossible!"
"Apparently not, considering the fact that even Argo grunted when the thief punched him."
"Argo's there, too? Why do you people never invite me to these reunions?" Domon complained.
"Please, Domon, that's not the point of this expensive phone call," George said. "What do I do with the boy?"
"Who? What boy?"
"Domon, are you sure your sober?" George asked.
"I think so.That party we went to was three nights ago, right Rain?" Domon asked his wife. "Oh, guess not." he said into the phone after waiting for a response from his wife. "Anyway, what boy?"
"The boy I've been telling you about. The one who's as good as Chibodee. His name is Rye DuChanps."
"What about him?"
"Do we have to go through this again?" George asked. "This thief is as good as Chibodee."
"So?"
"Well, I'm not going to let a great fighter like that go free!"
"Duh. Just send him to jail."
"You don't understand, Domon. RYE. IS. BETTER. AT. PUNCHING. THAN. CHIBODEE!!!"
There was silence on the other end of the line.
"Precisely," George said, glad that he was finally getting across to the still-drunk Domon.
"Train him," Domon finally suggested.
"What?!" the Neo-Frenchman gasped. "I can't teach someone how to punch! First of all, I still think its completely disgraceful, and second of all, I'm a fencing instructor!"
"Send him to Chibodee, then," Domon said.
"How is it that you can miss the most obvious things, but can still point them out to others?" George muttered.
"It comes naturally," Domon replied.
"Merci, Domon. I'll call Chibodee right away," George thanked his friend.
"Glad to help, George," Domon said and hung up the phone.
George sighed, pressed the dial tone button, and dialed another number. I hope Chibodee is still of his vacation, George thought. Behind him, Argo and Rye were staring-one in surprise, the other in amazement.
"Hello? Yes, I'd like room.room 107, sil vous plait," George said to the clerk.
"Um.sure." The clerk wasn't used to hearing people speak in French. "Please hold."
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Gina sighed as the looked out at the ocean from the balcony of the hotel room. The ocean was always so calm at night.
Reborn from the sea. A picture of a man emerging from the ocean came unbidden to Gina's mind.
She shook her head. What was that? The Neo-Mexican sighed as a cool wind blew against her face. She couldn't sleep. Unwanted images had kept on popping into her head. Anyway, it was too beautiful outside to spend crammed in a room under a thin cotton sheet.
Gina's attention was drawn away from the ocean as the phone rang quite loudly. She rushed over and picked up the phone.
"Hello?" a voice asked.
"Um.Hi," Gina said, a bit uncertain.
"You don't sound like Bunny or Janet or Shirley or Cath. I hate to be rude, madam, but may I ask who are you?" the voice said.
"I think I should be asking you the same question," Gina replied.
"Oh, how forgetful of me! I'm George de Sand, Gundam fighter for Neo- France."
What is it with all these Gundam fighters? Gina wondered. "I'm sorry, but.am I supposed to know who you are?" she asked.
Across the Atlantic Ocean, George de Sand became immensely offended. "No.no. It's not important." George was still a bit spaced out. "Um.can I talk to Chibodee, please?" he asked.
"Oh, sure. Hold on a sec." Gina walked up to Chibodee's door and knocked. No reply. She quietly opened the door and walked over to Chibodee's bed. A blush crept into Gina's cheeks as she looked down at the shirtless Chibodee Crockett. "Uh.Mr. Crickett," Gina ventured to say.
Chibodee's eyes popped open immediately. "WHAT DID I-" Gina cut Chibodee off by covering his mouth with her hand.
"Sorry," she said. "Scream at me tomorrow morning, okay? When the others are awake."
"Why'd you wake me up? I was having a nice dream." Chibodee got a dreamy look in his eyes.
Probably dreaming about all those girls on the beach, Gina figured in disgust. "There's someone on the phone," she said aloud.
"At this time of night? It's two in the morning!" Chibodee sighed and walked out of his room, followed by Gina.
"Hello? What do ya want?" he picked up the phone and talked into it rather grumpily.
"Chibodee?" George asked.
"George?" Chibodee asked, waking up a bit.
"Now that you two have established each other's names, get on with it!" Rye snapped. (Chibodee had been put on speaker.)
"Who was that?" Chibodee asked, eyes wide.
"That's the reason I'm calling you," George said.
"At two in the morning? Couldn't it have waited until some reasonable hour, like noon?" Chibodee asked and yawned.
"No, I'm afraid not," George replied.
Chibodee sat down in a chair, a fatal mistake. "Talk to me, George," he said.
"Well." George started to recite the strange events of the past morning.
"George, no one is better than me," Chibodee said cockily.
"This boy is," George said, completely certain.
"You really think so?"
"Chibodee, isn't that what we've been talking about for the last hour?" George asked in exasperation.
Chibodee looked at a nearby table where Gina had fallen asleep, her head resting on her arms. "Yeah, I guess. We were so boring we put the poor girl to sleep."
"What 'pauvre fille' ?" George asked, slipping into his native tongue.
"Oh, Gina Rodriguez, or.well, who used to be Gina Rodriguez."
"You mean the sister of Chico Rodriguez?" George asked.
"Duh. What other Gina Rodriguez is there?" Chibodee asked.
"There must be thousands of people named Rodriguez in Neo-Mexico," George pointed out. "But I read an article about a Chico Rodriguez who had been searching for his sister for the past year.The only problem was that he was arrested as soon as he stepped foot in Neo-Mexico."
"Are you telling me that they put Chico is jail?!?!" Chibodee practically screamed into the phone.
"Yes, it was in the newspaper," George said, a bit confused.
"Oh, god." Chibodee cradled his head in his hand.
"Well, can I send Monseiur DuChanps to you?" George asked, changing the subject.
"Huh?" Chibodee shook his head, ridding himself of other thoughts. "If he's already better than me-" Chibodee was cut off.
"Chibodee! Everyone needs training, even Domon.."
"Especially Domon," Chiobodee corrected.
"So?"
"So what?" Chibodee asked.
"It could just be me, but there seems to be an excess amount of stupidity in the air today," Argo commented dryly from the side.
"Argo's there too? Why do you people never invite me to these reunions?" Chibodee complained.
"Not that again." Argo said.
"What? Huh?" Chibodee asked, confused.
"Nothing.Can Rye train with you? Maybe he could be in the next tournament if he ever gets good enough," George said.
"No! I don't." Chibodee's eyes widened as an idea entered his mind-a rare occurrence. "Hey! George, I think you've solved my problem!"
"I'm glad I could help you, Chibodee, but what did I do?" George asked.
"Well, if little Rye Bread there-"
"Don't make fun of my name you-" Rye started.
Chibodee continued, ignoring Rye's outburst. "If Rye Bread comes to train with me, I have to go back to N.Y.C. so we could start training immediately! I mean, I couldn't let a soon-to-be-boxer have a vacation before he even started training, could I?" Chibodee asked.
"Is Miami really that awful, Chibodee?" George asked.
"You have no idea."
"I'll send Monseiur DuChanps over on in two days, all right?" George asked.
"Yeah, sure, whatever. I GET TO GO BACK TO N.Y.C.!!!" Chibodee shouted in joy, forgetting that there were four lionesses sleeping nearby.
Gina woke up at Chibodee's shout. For a moment, there was a look of great fear in her eyes, but then it was gone. "Shh!" she half-said, half-yawned.
"He, he. Gotta go, George. Before the girls wake up and kill me."
"I'm amazed that someone could sleep through that yell at all," George said.
"They're gifted, what can I say?" Chibodee replied, smiling. "Gotta go."
"Au revoir," George replied and hung up the phone.
"Mr. Crickett-Crockett-" Gina started.
"Why don't you just call me Chibodee?" the happy Neo-American suggested.
"All right," Gina said, turning beet red at the sight of Chibodee's bare chest. He didn't seem to notice anything. "Chibodee." It sounded strange, addressing someone by his first name. "Chibodee, can I ask you something?"
"Sure," Chibodee replied, trying to remove himself from the chair and actually succeeding-with some difficulty.
"Well.You know how you think I'm the Neo-Mexican Gundam fighter's sister-" Gina was interrupted by Chibodee.
"I know you're Chico's brother," Chibodee corrected.
"Yeah, well, do you remember exactly what happened when you met me?" Gina asked, leaning forward.
"Um.I think so. Domon was poisoned or something and then-" Chibodee started.
"Yes, but, but did Chico ever have a Gundam fight?" Gina inquired.
"Yeah, with Domon, I think. Domon pretended that Chico was dead so that the police wouldn't go searching for him any more. So that he could live with you for the rest of your life.which seems to have gone on longer than expected. Domon told me about your disease afterwards," Chibodee said. "And- Gina, are you all right?" he asked with concern as the Neo-Mexican's eyes widened.
"Fine, fine," she said absently. Reborn from the sea. The phrase entered Gina's mind again. She shook her head.
"Sure you're okay?" Chibodee asked.
"Yeah," Gina said.
"Okay. I'm goin' back to sleep. If any of the girls come in and ask why someone was screaming, tell them you have no clue what they're talking about," Chibodee instructed. "Oh, you better get some rest. We're goin' back to N.Y.C. tomorrow."
"Where?" Gina asked.
"N.Y.C.. The Big Apple-don't ask me why they call it that. I think it's an insult to the city." He looked at the puzzled face of Gina. "New York City!" he said.
"Oh, the place with that green statue," Gina said.
"Yeah, the place with that green statue. Haven't you heard of it before?" Chibodee asked.
Gina shook her head.
Chibodee shrugged. "Well, you're gonna be living there, so you can see it all then. G'night," he said and closed the door to his room.
Gina walked back out to the balcony, her nightgown blowing in the cool wind. So it's true then.I wonder why she's able to hold out so long.Both of us should have died a year ago.D*** it! Maybe it would have been better that way. She sighed. Life is too complicated.There should be a manual or something. 'How to Handle Life When You're an Android, Modeled After Someone Who is the New Life-Source for a New Dark Gundam'.
Reborn from the sea.
See! It was worthwhile reading this chapter. It does have a purpose. If you still don't get it, more comes out later. Oh, and if your sitting there gapping, bravo! That's what the ending is supposed to do. And if you're one of those genius people who figures everything out way ahead of time, give up this fic and try reading "Love By Numbers". That one'll keep you guessing. Gotta go write more! Well, actually, gotta go beat myself up 'cause I have writer's block. But yeah, that's beside the point. ~* ShadowTide *~
Chapter III: Two Necessarily Lone Phone Calls
Chibodee was right. Why do we have to stay in a hotel that doesn't have air conditioning? Gina complained inwardly. "I need ice cream," she said out loud.
"No one's stoppin' ya from goin'," Chibodee pointed out. He was sitting in a different chair this time. One that wasn't so large and fluffy.
Gina considered the matter. "Can I borrow some money?" she asked hopefully.
"No," Chibodee replied.
"Please, Mr. Crickett," Gina begged.
Chibodee sat up. "Definitely not if you keep on calling me that! It's CROCKETT! C-R-O-C-K-E-T-T! Crockett!"
"That's what I said. 'Crickett'," Gina replied, smiling sweetly.
"UGH!" Chibodee threw his hands up in hopelessness and sank back into his chair. "Just call me Chibodee then."
"Could we possibly discuss the matter of your name later? I'm sure you feel very strongly about the subject, but I'm really dying of the heat, here," Gina begged.
"Join the club," Chibodee grunted, and sank lower into his chair.
"Mr. Crickett-" Gina stopped and corrected her mistake. "Mr. Crocket, I don't think you should do that.too late." Gina winced as Chibodee and the chair went tumbling backwards. "Now can I have some money?" she asked, walking over to where Chibodee was removing himself from the death grip of yet another chair.
"Fine. Just no more than ten bucks. I need my money for my own selfish purposes too, ya know. Like SUEING THIS D*** HOTEL!!" Chibodee agreed grumpily.
"Thanks, Mr. Crickett!" Gina called over her shoulder as she deftly removed ten dollars from Chibodee's wallet and raced out the door.
"It's CROCKETT!" Chibodee yelled after her as he lifted the chair and placed it against a wall. "What is wrong with this hotel?" he muttered under his breath. Just to be safe, Chibodee decided to sit on the floor this time.
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"Perfect," a young man with sandy blond hair and crystal blue eyes murmured under his breath as he watched the famous George de Sand walk down the street. I wonder how much a Gundam fighter like him would have in his back pocket, the man thought and started following George. Thousands, I bet. Probably enough to last me and Jacque a lifetime. He continued following the completely unsuspecting George.
The man's eyes narrowed. Do princes-or whatever he is-even carry wallets around? he pondered. Oh well. You never know until you try. Anyway, I can get away. Always have before. Suddenly, the blond-haired man sprang forward, grabbed, George's back pocket, pulled out a thin wallet, and started running off at the speed of light-or so he thought. The man had accomplished everything except running away. George had deftly grabbed on to the thief's shirt.
"I highly suggest you-" George was cut off as the man punched him in the stomach. "Ow!" he shouted, rather undignified. No one can pack a punch that powerful except Chibodee!
George jumped up and ran after the young theif.
D***! the man thought. Why do there have to be so many twists and turns in Paris? He looked back. George was gaining on him. D***! he thought again. I have no clue where I am! The man started running again, but crashed head-on into a wall of a man.
"Argo!" George shouted in joy as he caught up with the thief-who was now imprisoned by Argo. "What are you doing here, mon ami?"
Argo shrugged. The theif punched him in the stomach and Argo grunted in pain. The Neo-Russian grabbed the man's arm and twisted it backwards. This time is was the thief who grunted in pain.
"He's strong," Argo observed.
"You noticed," George agreed dryly, rubbing his stomach.
"Let me go!" the young man shouted and tried to get free of Argo's grip, to no avail.
"I think we should bring him back to my house," George suggested.
Argo nodded in agreement and the two started dragging the man with them.
"No! You-you can't! What are you going to do with me? I have a brother to take care of! You can't send me to jail! Please," the theif begged.
"We have no intention of sending you to jail-unless you keep up that whining," George said calmly.
"We don't?" Argo asked.
"You don't?" the young man asked at the same time.
"No," George replied shortly.
They soon arrived at George's large mansion, located right next to the palace.
"Bonjuer, Monsieur de Sand," a servant said as he answered the door. The servant raised an eyebrow quizzically as Argo entered, holding the struggling theif, but said nothing.
George walked into a private living room and the other two followed. He dismissed the servants with a have of his hand.
"What's your name, monsieur?" George asked the thief.
"DuChanps. Rye DuChanps," the man mumbled, his eyes on the ivory floor.
George nodded and snatched his wallet back from Rye. "Let him go, Argo," George said.
Argo obeyed, but protested. "I don't think this is a good idea, George."
"Thank you for your concern, mon ami, but I know what I'm doing," George said. "Where did you learn to punch like that, monsieur DuChanps?" he questioned Rye.
"I taught myself," Rye mumbled.
"You taught yourself?" George echoed in disbelief.
Rye nodded.
"Monsieur, I find it very hard to believe that you taught yourself how to fight like that," George said skeptically.
"But I did!" Rye defended himself.
"Calm down," George said. He walked over to the phone and dialed a very long telephone number. "Hello?" he asked into the phone. "Domon?"
"Hey, George!" the famous Domon Kasshu replied happily. "How are you?"
"Fine. Yourself?"
"Well, besides the fact that Rain is around here twenty-four-seven and that she bosses me around like crazy-Ow! What was that for, Rain?" Domon was distracted by his wife.
"Domon, I was robbed today," George said solemnly once Domon and Rain had finished arguing.
"Huh? So? Why are you calling me?" Domon asked, puzzled.
"Well, actually, the thief didn't get away. He's in my living room now-"
"Remind me why this is important?"
"He's a s good a puncher as Chibodee," George said.
"What? No one is as good as Chibodee! It's like virtually impossible!"
"Apparently not, considering the fact that even Argo grunted when the thief punched him."
"Argo's there, too? Why do you people never invite me to these reunions?" Domon complained.
"Please, Domon, that's not the point of this expensive phone call," George said. "What do I do with the boy?"
"Who? What boy?"
"Domon, are you sure your sober?" George asked.
"I think so.That party we went to was three nights ago, right Rain?" Domon asked his wife. "Oh, guess not." he said into the phone after waiting for a response from his wife. "Anyway, what boy?"
"The boy I've been telling you about. The one who's as good as Chibodee. His name is Rye DuChanps."
"What about him?"
"Do we have to go through this again?" George asked. "This thief is as good as Chibodee."
"So?"
"Well, I'm not going to let a great fighter like that go free!"
"Duh. Just send him to jail."
"You don't understand, Domon. RYE. IS. BETTER. AT. PUNCHING. THAN. CHIBODEE!!!"
There was silence on the other end of the line.
"Precisely," George said, glad that he was finally getting across to the still-drunk Domon.
"Train him," Domon finally suggested.
"What?!" the Neo-Frenchman gasped. "I can't teach someone how to punch! First of all, I still think its completely disgraceful, and second of all, I'm a fencing instructor!"
"Send him to Chibodee, then," Domon said.
"How is it that you can miss the most obvious things, but can still point them out to others?" George muttered.
"It comes naturally," Domon replied.
"Merci, Domon. I'll call Chibodee right away," George thanked his friend.
"Glad to help, George," Domon said and hung up the phone.
George sighed, pressed the dial tone button, and dialed another number. I hope Chibodee is still of his vacation, George thought. Behind him, Argo and Rye were staring-one in surprise, the other in amazement.
"Hello? Yes, I'd like room.room 107, sil vous plait," George said to the clerk.
"Um.sure." The clerk wasn't used to hearing people speak in French. "Please hold."
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Gina sighed as the looked out at the ocean from the balcony of the hotel room. The ocean was always so calm at night.
Reborn from the sea. A picture of a man emerging from the ocean came unbidden to Gina's mind.
She shook her head. What was that? The Neo-Mexican sighed as a cool wind blew against her face. She couldn't sleep. Unwanted images had kept on popping into her head. Anyway, it was too beautiful outside to spend crammed in a room under a thin cotton sheet.
Gina's attention was drawn away from the ocean as the phone rang quite loudly. She rushed over and picked up the phone.
"Hello?" a voice asked.
"Um.Hi," Gina said, a bit uncertain.
"You don't sound like Bunny or Janet or Shirley or Cath. I hate to be rude, madam, but may I ask who are you?" the voice said.
"I think I should be asking you the same question," Gina replied.
"Oh, how forgetful of me! I'm George de Sand, Gundam fighter for Neo- France."
What is it with all these Gundam fighters? Gina wondered. "I'm sorry, but.am I supposed to know who you are?" she asked.
Across the Atlantic Ocean, George de Sand became immensely offended. "No.no. It's not important." George was still a bit spaced out. "Um.can I talk to Chibodee, please?" he asked.
"Oh, sure. Hold on a sec." Gina walked up to Chibodee's door and knocked. No reply. She quietly opened the door and walked over to Chibodee's bed. A blush crept into Gina's cheeks as she looked down at the shirtless Chibodee Crockett. "Uh.Mr. Crickett," Gina ventured to say.
Chibodee's eyes popped open immediately. "WHAT DID I-" Gina cut Chibodee off by covering his mouth with her hand.
"Sorry," she said. "Scream at me tomorrow morning, okay? When the others are awake."
"Why'd you wake me up? I was having a nice dream." Chibodee got a dreamy look in his eyes.
Probably dreaming about all those girls on the beach, Gina figured in disgust. "There's someone on the phone," she said aloud.
"At this time of night? It's two in the morning!" Chibodee sighed and walked out of his room, followed by Gina.
"Hello? What do ya want?" he picked up the phone and talked into it rather grumpily.
"Chibodee?" George asked.
"George?" Chibodee asked, waking up a bit.
"Now that you two have established each other's names, get on with it!" Rye snapped. (Chibodee had been put on speaker.)
"Who was that?" Chibodee asked, eyes wide.
"That's the reason I'm calling you," George said.
"At two in the morning? Couldn't it have waited until some reasonable hour, like noon?" Chibodee asked and yawned.
"No, I'm afraid not," George replied.
Chibodee sat down in a chair, a fatal mistake. "Talk to me, George," he said.
"Well." George started to recite the strange events of the past morning.
"George, no one is better than me," Chibodee said cockily.
"This boy is," George said, completely certain.
"You really think so?"
"Chibodee, isn't that what we've been talking about for the last hour?" George asked in exasperation.
Chibodee looked at a nearby table where Gina had fallen asleep, her head resting on her arms. "Yeah, I guess. We were so boring we put the poor girl to sleep."
"What 'pauvre fille' ?" George asked, slipping into his native tongue.
"Oh, Gina Rodriguez, or.well, who used to be Gina Rodriguez."
"You mean the sister of Chico Rodriguez?" George asked.
"Duh. What other Gina Rodriguez is there?" Chibodee asked.
"There must be thousands of people named Rodriguez in Neo-Mexico," George pointed out. "But I read an article about a Chico Rodriguez who had been searching for his sister for the past year.The only problem was that he was arrested as soon as he stepped foot in Neo-Mexico."
"Are you telling me that they put Chico is jail?!?!" Chibodee practically screamed into the phone.
"Yes, it was in the newspaper," George said, a bit confused.
"Oh, god." Chibodee cradled his head in his hand.
"Well, can I send Monseiur DuChanps to you?" George asked, changing the subject.
"Huh?" Chibodee shook his head, ridding himself of other thoughts. "If he's already better than me-" Chibodee was cut off.
"Chibodee! Everyone needs training, even Domon.."
"Especially Domon," Chiobodee corrected.
"So?"
"So what?" Chibodee asked.
"It could just be me, but there seems to be an excess amount of stupidity in the air today," Argo commented dryly from the side.
"Argo's there too? Why do you people never invite me to these reunions?" Chibodee complained.
"Not that again." Argo said.
"What? Huh?" Chibodee asked, confused.
"Nothing.Can Rye train with you? Maybe he could be in the next tournament if he ever gets good enough," George said.
"No! I don't." Chibodee's eyes widened as an idea entered his mind-a rare occurrence. "Hey! George, I think you've solved my problem!"
"I'm glad I could help you, Chibodee, but what did I do?" George asked.
"Well, if little Rye Bread there-"
"Don't make fun of my name you-" Rye started.
Chibodee continued, ignoring Rye's outburst. "If Rye Bread comes to train with me, I have to go back to N.Y.C. so we could start training immediately! I mean, I couldn't let a soon-to-be-boxer have a vacation before he even started training, could I?" Chibodee asked.
"Is Miami really that awful, Chibodee?" George asked.
"You have no idea."
"I'll send Monseiur DuChanps over on in two days, all right?" George asked.
"Yeah, sure, whatever. I GET TO GO BACK TO N.Y.C.!!!" Chibodee shouted in joy, forgetting that there were four lionesses sleeping nearby.
Gina woke up at Chibodee's shout. For a moment, there was a look of great fear in her eyes, but then it was gone. "Shh!" she half-said, half-yawned.
"He, he. Gotta go, George. Before the girls wake up and kill me."
"I'm amazed that someone could sleep through that yell at all," George said.
"They're gifted, what can I say?" Chibodee replied, smiling. "Gotta go."
"Au revoir," George replied and hung up the phone.
"Mr. Crickett-Crockett-" Gina started.
"Why don't you just call me Chibodee?" the happy Neo-American suggested.
"All right," Gina said, turning beet red at the sight of Chibodee's bare chest. He didn't seem to notice anything. "Chibodee." It sounded strange, addressing someone by his first name. "Chibodee, can I ask you something?"
"Sure," Chibodee replied, trying to remove himself from the chair and actually succeeding-with some difficulty.
"Well.You know how you think I'm the Neo-Mexican Gundam fighter's sister-" Gina was interrupted by Chibodee.
"I know you're Chico's brother," Chibodee corrected.
"Yeah, well, do you remember exactly what happened when you met me?" Gina asked, leaning forward.
"Um.I think so. Domon was poisoned or something and then-" Chibodee started.
"Yes, but, but did Chico ever have a Gundam fight?" Gina inquired.
"Yeah, with Domon, I think. Domon pretended that Chico was dead so that the police wouldn't go searching for him any more. So that he could live with you for the rest of your life.which seems to have gone on longer than expected. Domon told me about your disease afterwards," Chibodee said. "And- Gina, are you all right?" he asked with concern as the Neo-Mexican's eyes widened.
"Fine, fine," she said absently. Reborn from the sea. The phrase entered Gina's mind again. She shook her head.
"Sure you're okay?" Chibodee asked.
"Yeah," Gina said.
"Okay. I'm goin' back to sleep. If any of the girls come in and ask why someone was screaming, tell them you have no clue what they're talking about," Chibodee instructed. "Oh, you better get some rest. We're goin' back to N.Y.C. tomorrow."
"Where?" Gina asked.
"N.Y.C.. The Big Apple-don't ask me why they call it that. I think it's an insult to the city." He looked at the puzzled face of Gina. "New York City!" he said.
"Oh, the place with that green statue," Gina said.
"Yeah, the place with that green statue. Haven't you heard of it before?" Chibodee asked.
Gina shook her head.
Chibodee shrugged. "Well, you're gonna be living there, so you can see it all then. G'night," he said and closed the door to his room.
Gina walked back out to the balcony, her nightgown blowing in the cool wind. So it's true then.I wonder why she's able to hold out so long.Both of us should have died a year ago.D*** it! Maybe it would have been better that way. She sighed. Life is too complicated.There should be a manual or something. 'How to Handle Life When You're an Android, Modeled After Someone Who is the New Life-Source for a New Dark Gundam'.
Reborn from the sea.
See! It was worthwhile reading this chapter. It does have a purpose. If you still don't get it, more comes out later. Oh, and if your sitting there gapping, bravo! That's what the ending is supposed to do. And if you're one of those genius people who figures everything out way ahead of time, give up this fic and try reading "Love By Numbers". That one'll keep you guessing. Gotta go write more! Well, actually, gotta go beat myself up 'cause I have writer's block. But yeah, that's beside the point. ~* ShadowTide *~