~ Crazy Is As Crazy Does ~
By: Anime Redneck
5-15-03
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Disclaimer: I don't own the GW Guys nor the song "Mi Vida Loca" by Pam Tillis'. I do however own the plot, meh truck and ye canna 'ave either! ^__^
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~*~ @ ~*~
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It was quickly becoming a habit, the man in the gray poets shirt, snug black jeans, military issue combat boots and dusk blue duster knew… yet he couldn't force himself to care one bit. So he was going back again. What was the up rise there? It was a nice place, peaceful, loud, good company… If any every got in his good graces to be called good company, then one was honored. It wasn't simply that he was exceptionally handsome and one got to be in his presence… wasn't that it took a lot to get the man talking, nor the fact he was a hard one to like.
It was the simple fact that this man held no close friends. The simple fact that this man was beyond being a stubborn hard ass to impress or plain just get to open up enough that he *would* relax in your company. Once he did though… it was the most amazing thing in the world. *That* was why most in the building he was headed, were humbly honored or pleased, to be called his acquaintances - or, to the very few he regularly saw, his friends.
This of course, extended to the buildings owner: Mary Jean Scott.
Mary Jean Scott, the wild eyed man came to learn over the year, is a sweet motherly lady of twenty-seven - six years his elder - with a backbone to rival his own. There'd been many a time he watched someone start up a fight refusing to depart the building at her advising. He felt bad for them, truly he did… the poor saps didn't have brain enough to know when to leave something at that and walk away.
Fortunately enough for the others in the building having to watch, Mary would round the bar picking up her trusty broom handle with soft grip and enter the fight herself; batting them over the head yelling for them to "Grow up, shut up and sit down!" or to "Go beat tha shit outta each otha in tha parkin' lot ye damned dolts!"
Ms. Mary Jean Scott was also part Irish and part Scottish, though one would never know it with her brown hair with red hues and her hazel-blue eyes. The only thing giving her heritage away to patrons entering her establishment was her decorating sense and accent. She had to assure people, on more occasions then the young man could count, that she was indeed Irish-Scottish.
The man's wild eyes smiled as he crossed the street at the crosswalks toning. Jean - she had insisted all her friends called her that, Mary was too much a used name though she still loved it - had her hazel-blue eyes set in a lean yet slight rounded face, framed by her near waist length brownish-red hair, which all but a few strands, one could almost always find her wearing in a ponytail, or just the top half pulled back in one while the rest was free to hang as it pleased. She was a thin yet slightly rounded woman standing of a mere 5'7", barely just rising to his shoulders and he never stopped getting a jolt of joyous pleasure from seeing her having to look *up*, at him to glare.
It was normal; having woman shorter then he look up into his eyes, so he didn't mind nor truly care if that was all they did. But when one tried turning a menacing glare - and Jean could carry the look wonderfully - on him… and had to look *up* accomplish it… Well it just sort of lost its evil intent and became humorous to him. Thankfully though, he was gifted with brilliant mind, excellent memory and manors to boot. He never once told her she looked silly trying to glare up at him like that. The only way they worked on him were if he happened to be sitting down when she did it. Then, and nearly only then, did her glares get through to him.
Oh he loved to sit and jib her about being so short and glaring at people, and she'd joke right on back at him. But he wore enough sense about him to know not to joke about it while she was honestly ticked beyond limit and glared at him. Even if it weren't his fault. He would rightly screw his sharp-featured face into one of mock guilt, eyes of comfort. Even if it weren't his fault, he'd play the part to get her ire down.
If Jean wasn't happy, weren't nobody happy.
As he walked the wind picked up ruffling his duster's unclasped tails causing them to fly smacking his legs, anything that he passed too close to. Now, as he glanced up in pure wonder, he noticed he was right where he'd been heading the last twenty minutes. He had tried to convince his newest acquaintance - he shook his head… no, he should call the blonde headed boy his friend by now. He couldn't be any other with his sweet innocent like personality and gentle heart. Be it as it were, he had tried to pull the blonde man to Jean's with him, but he had other plans and promised to take him up on the next offer.
Little did the blonde young man know; he visited Jean's just most every night. He'd try not to make it a point of asking everyday after work. He would be hard pressed to do so though… Jean's was a rowdy and exciting (though outwardly he'd never admit it) place to "wind down" at. With the blondes noted outlook on life and "living for the moment" there was no doubt in his mind the small man would find his excitement at Jean's.
Taking a moment to himself the rugged handsome man stopped, finding himself admiring the buildings beautiful artwork once more. He could never imagine how someone was able to think all of it up. He had his own talents, but it didn't really extend past excelling in physical sports, martial arts or computers. He himself could not paint (besides house wise), could not sing (wouldn't even attempt it)… but what stood before him… was one of the few beauties he had ever seen in his short life.
Wild blue eyes looked up from across the street at the building over him. It stood merely two stories tall; the roof was made to mimic the ancient Chinese style of clay-shingled roofing, which peaked in the middle then sloped gently downwards. Now he had seen pictures in history classes of the ancient housing styles of many cultures. So he knew that both Japanese and Chinese styles were very similar… Yet, even if both styles went from middle peaked roofs that sloped ever so slowly towards the house or buildings end, the four corners always went from gentle slope downwards and turned upwards with some form of statue on the ends of those four upturned corner peaks.
Jean's place was no different from those other structures. Though hers did have the middle peak, the slop and four upturned corners, what made her place slightly different was the over hang. Now it's true that most buildings you see, regardless of which culture they derived from… all have some form of over hang. Jean's however, had an overhang that still slanted downwards another foot before it smoothly turned upwards in a loose 'J' fashion. Why was that different even with the upturned corner peaks? Easy. Her foot overhang shadowed the wide arched windows she had installed, leaving only six foot to be seen of the normally eight foot.
He supposed in the long run it wasn't all that different, but for the buildings design it really stood out. The rest of the two-story building on the other hand looked sort of plain. She managed somehow during construction to get the siding looking like blue-green bamboo shoots climbing up all sides, disappearing under the shingled overhang. Each arched window had a metallic silver painted 2x4 outlining it's edges; it looked a normal flat gray until the sun hit, catching the metallic sheen, causing it to sparkle and shine.
The first floor windows held the same treatment except they weren't arched like the second floors; they were standard six wide by four-foot tall square windows. The entrance, a single black tinted glass door stood in the middle with a small 'open' sign showing though the glass, two windows flanked it on either side, each tinted like the door. The pride and joy of the buildings outside - if he said so him self - had to be the buildings sign.
It was unique, didn't see many of it's kind around this part of town. The sign itself was a good fifteen-foot wide by seven high and spanned the distance between both floors… starting just a little above the bottom windows and ending just a little under the top windows. It was a wonderful combination of artist painting and electrical lighting. Jean had made sure the signs backing was shaped like one large cloud, no sharp straight points, just bubbled roundness wherever you looked. It was painted much like the bluish-white clouds in the sky were, rolling, shifting shades of blue and white mixing into a fluffy realistic look.
On each end of the painted sign, seemingly sitting in the middle of the soft clouds sat a lovely vision. Each were girls, long past waist length hair flowing about a willowy frame incased in a loose toga like dress. The young girls were painted in such a way, it looked like they were leaning back on their cloud to stare off into the sky above them, almost dreamy like, eyes wide and wondering. In the space between the girls and clouds it appeared to look as if night were falling towards the top middle, little silver stars twinkled back at you.
And above all the painted artwork, the distance between the two girls hung the electric blue-white cursive lettering of the buildings name: Tsuki Doriimaa's Tengoku.*
Smiling in silent humor the young man started across the street to enter the fine building. It was funny really, the name and design of the buildings outside. He knew, understood what that name meant, it was in Japanese after all and that was his native tongue. The name itself wasn't what was funny, as many before him had said, it was "inviting and wondrous" it truly grabbed peoples attention. If not the name, then it was the buildings style. How many Asian style buildings do you normally see nestled between a world of modern architecture? A natural eye catcher.
No, shaking his head as he entered immediately looking for that familiar stock of brownish-red hair, it was that difference between inner and outer which drew his humor. It was as if one had stepped from the futile era into an Irish poolroom pub! Two sides of a coin if you will, each totally different. The outside gave a feeling of curiousness and calm to those gazing at it, a wonder filled you, driving you to enter and see just *what* such an establishment was.
Let him be the first to say… The outer shell tricked many a person to enter the lavish, homely-aired place. One of such tricked people for instance… was himself. The name had caught his attention, captured his curiosity. What type of building would bare such a name? Was it a bookstore? Surely with a name like that it would hold something similar. Maybe an antique store? He'd seen many of them scattered around these parts. It was an oddity, rarely happened… yet the young man had found his curiousness controlled his feet, marching him up and into the building some day year past.
Now all he could do when a curious wonderer waltzed in with a stunned expression on his or her face, was shake his head and smile towards the owner: Mary Jean Scott. The woman was an intelligent one indeed. Had enlightened him to her "plan of attack". Make the outside look old and interesting, then, on the inside; it'd be polished, newer, livelier!
He had to admit, she excelled on both accounts.
So as he entered for the third time that week, sharp eyes scanning the gathered crowd while sliding from his custom made duster hanging it on the coat rack behind the bar. His ears twitched, a medium bell laughter ringing in his ear as he poured himself a cup of soda and helping Sam man the bar as others came in while Jean was off mingling with her favorite customers. He'd look around for her, but with the direction the sound came from, there were two walls blocking his sight.
As strange as it had been the first few times entering the place, it was natural now, liking the buildings layout. At first it had unnerved him the smallest bit that he could not observe the full room, only see partials of each side; the middle back being out of sight range, but not hearing. Now, it was second nature to rely on hearing more then sight. You could hear problems better then you could see most starting.
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From across the moderately sized bar slash kitchen area, gray eyes watched the younger man, a smile tilting his lips. It still tickled him pink each time he watched the youth walk around the bar - or jumped over it depending if Mary Jean was in eyesight - like he owned it to help out with the crowds. He still chuckled when anyone asked about the "new guy" and how he came to be with the four-person business.
How had he come indeed! Sam's gray eyes twinkled handing over a frosted root beer to a small redheaded child smiling kindly.
The Japanese boy - something he was still wondering if the young man was full blooded Japanese with his brown hair and stunning blue eyes - had come into the pool hall one day on the off chance of seeing just what it was. Had been coming in ever since. Sometimes to play pool, others just to sit and watch the others having a good time while once in a while, joining in on some of his and Mary Jean's conversations. Which, was always something, he didn't seem to talk much, but his voice was strong, yet soft at the same time… at others him and Mary Jean had to quiet down just to hear what was said… as if he wasn't used to all the sudden attention and was shy to talk about others he just met with some days ago. It hadn't bothered Sam much though; he liked that Asian man.
He still remembered, the one-day it all started being more then just coming in to enjoy the friendly home like atmosphere of the hall and morphed into a second job of sorts. It had been a dreary day, clouds rolling in from the west, a thunder storm had been brewing all week and seemed to decide the time was just right to let it's rain pour on all the waiting people milling about below it. The storm had been the cause for Ralph's not making it into work that night. It was Friday, their busiest night of the week besides Monday and Saturday. And they were a person short, leaving only he and Mary Jean to tend the bar.
It had been near six that - no, no that wasn't right… Sam frowned studying the soda spigots trying to recall the time. It wasn't six, more around eight thirty that evening, yes that was right, eight thirty that evening that the Asian man had stepped into the bar for his nightly visit and paused at the amount of people waiting around for a table or friends to show up. Sam remembered him arching a brow, stalking the bar for a chair to sit; he didn't much care for sitting off to the tables closer to the pool tables. Finding his chair he ordered up a Dr. Pepper and made jest of the slow service, giving Mary Jean a playful wink.
Now, Sam straightened up taking another man's order and money before handing over change then leaned back against the bar to watch the other man, Heero. He was all good and well for jokes and the like. Loved them personally. But that Mary Jean bad been fit to be tied with Ralph not making it into work that night, with the crowds like the were… she didn't need no jokin' fool to press her buttons that night. Heero, the poor lad, had been that unknowing fool, even if he was only trying to lighten the mood a little.
Mary Jean had leaned over the bar more, hazel-blues flashing, "If'n ye think ye can handle 'em betta then me laddie, ah'd like ta see ye try! Service ain't much tanite, damned ol' storm blew out Ralph's onla way ta get 'ere an we bein' one short. So ye think ye can 'elp out, git off tha fanny of yers and over 'ere!"
Now Sam knew his Mary Jean had been partially joking with the other as well, but she was every bit serious in her challenge. Heero, as Sam later came to find out, always took things seriously. More so when it was an indirect asking for help.
So what had the young pup done? He'd stood up, glanced at the two sitting beside him, nudged them a bit from his way and hopped over the bar to stand beside Mary Jean, over shooting her small form by few good inches, nearly a full heads height! Then, with another playing wink he started taking the first orders coming their way like he'd been at it for years! Taking their money, making proper change for the drinks or food and handed them back… He was a natural… Sam shook his shaggy haired head, a natural!
A thought crossed the gray-eyed man's mind causing him to grin. Chuckling he picked up a damp counter towel, called out to the other young man and threw it.
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"Heads up Young Pup!"
Coffee dark hair flew as its owner turned swiftly at his calling. He never quite fully understood why the Irish man, Sam, had insisted on calling him "Young Pup" instead of his name. Yet being as he as a sweet "Old Guy" - his revenge for being called "Young Pup" even if it was sort of an endearing name - that he was towards him, Heero couldn't bring himself to glare him into submission. Seeing the towel airborne for him he side stepped to catch it, turned once and threw it back a bit faster then it's original flight. Smirking as Sam quirked an amused brow at him.
Heero chuckled lowly handing a mug of beer to a tall ginger haired man shaking his head. It was hard to believe that a year had passed since he wondered into this place. The throng of customers had quieted down, their noise alive and loud as he let his eyes take in his surroundings.
Two sides of a coin. The saying fluttered through his mind at the pastel greens and darker forest green accents that made up the rooms main coloring. Each wall was a seeming dark shade of pastel green, a shade darker then the normal near aqua coloring. The walls trimming (which started three foot up from the floor) was forest green, below that was natural finished cedar paneling, covering every wall. Pictures of famous people - he guessed they were, since he wasn't Irish - scattered the walls along with some great western people he did know, John Wayne and other of him on "The Wild Goose", there were pictures from the long ago O-K Corral. There were pictures of Indians, western singers and even some pictures that looked to be of Jean and Sam's families.
On some walls there were shelves settled between the cue racks. Scattered among them were various articles, some figurines of Irish and Scottish people in their kilts, some in more traditional clothing. One he found particular interesting was of a young man looking nearly alike himself. Jean had assured him she didn't know the man, just like the way he looked when she was younger and had decided to buy the figurine.
Heero would be lying if he didn't say the small man replica had gotten him to thinking about digging into his own past… See where he'd come from… somewhere besides just knowing from the East, from his Japanese decent. But he had nowhere to start from. Blinking his eyes as if to clear the thoughts away his eyes scanned the crowd to make sure no one needed anything before letting them scan the rest of the room.
Large near life-size pictures of people he never knew, would never know, also colored the walls taking up space. On the north wall by the jukebox right in the middle had an English style ridding saddle tacked up. He never asked exactly *why* it was there… it just was. Like the overly large stars on the ceiling that one could see the nails used to station them in place; he later learned one late night, they glowed in the dark. Go figure. On another wall there were large four leaf clovers scattered through the pictures, scraps of plaid clothing; on another wall was a mans red and green plaid kilt complete with Clan signet clasp and thick black belt. His mind gave idle thought to it being hell getting that inside its custom picture frame.
The whole layout, back to what he now liked; was simple. The bar and mini kitchen was stationed direction in the middle, taking up a good deal of space but nothing compared to the overall size of the flooring. In front of the bar stood the entrance, to it's right about ten foot was the jukebox, to either side of the door were small round bar stool height tables placed here or there around the pool tables.
The bar acted like a natural barrier between the room's two sides. Directly behind the bar, behind the wall, was another slightly smaller room holding a few arcade games and two air hockey tables. Jean had told him in the beginning she was planning to have it enclosed, with just two open doorways going in and out to either side, but had decided instead to put up a waist high wall down the sides and back end, with a smaller two foot wall dropping down from the ceiling. Instead of leaving it open like that, she had added in carved rounded posts every foot or so, giving each 'wall' the look of a porch's railing. Instead of two open door ways, there were four… two at the front, two at the back.
Tsuki Doriimaa's Tengoku was a family pool hall.
It housed seventeen playing tables. Eight on each side of the bar and game room in two rows and one at the very back, between the end of the game room and the back wall where the restrooms were located. There were TV's in each of the four corners so one could watch sports that were playing. Though, they were always kept on mute or so low one had to strain to hear what was going on so that the jukebox had everyone's attention through the many stationed speakers throughout the room.
It was a nice place to be. Made one feel like they were at home all over again. That was… if one had a home as nice as this. Heero smirked. Of course if they were at home, they wouldn't be paying for their drinks or food either. He chuckled handing over another drink. His humor level had skyrocketed since joining Jean and Sam at the hall. Their off the wall bantering was contagious. The looks he would get at work for returning someone's off handed attempt at a joke towards him - something most of his colleagues were timid at trying since his straightforward attitude brooked no joking ease - were priceless.
"Ah dinna tell 'im that!!" Jean's voice floated to his ears, causing them to twitch once more with her laughter. "Nae! 'E did it 'imself! Aye! Look lass, ah know wha ah beh tellin' 'im… Aye, aye… SEE THERE!!!"
Smirking at the outburst and following laugh Heero stretched his neck muscles leaning over the bars edge to look towards the back where he could hear the light airy voice coming from. And wasn't surprised to find the fiery-brown haired lady standing leaning against the wall laughing at another young lady - younger then him - as she tried explaining something to Jean, getting her to smile brightly again before patting the girls shoulder motherly like and leaving her to walk to another table to see how it's patrons were doing.
Heero marveled at the woman across the room from him.
She was truly someone to look up to - fugitively of course, for him. She cared honestly about any and all that passed through her doors. All that is, except for the few "block heads" whom decided it a good place to pick a fight and wound up getting a motherly beating with the hard side of Jean's favored boom stick. And that's all it was too! It was a replacement broom stick with soft grip handle on one end, the other was darted with dents, scratches and chunks missing from beating people and things trying to dissolve the fights, or at least move them outside.
Jean would make a good mother, Heero knew, but for the life of him couldn't figure out how he knew.
He never experienced love before, never had a mother or real father. He had spent most of his childhood watching other kids with their families, wonder for a few split seconds what it would be like to have both a mother and a father… or just one or the other? Would he have turned out any differently then he had? Would he have more a grasp on his emotions then he did now? Maybe understand what confused him most of his days… Have someone he could go to and talk freely with… without the reserve of thinking he'd be judged or looked down upon? Not that he spent his time caring if others looked at him wrongly. He couldn't change that, and didn't try. Let others have misconceptions about him, about why he acted the way he did… It would only prove their undoing when later they were proved wrong.
Stormy sea eyes spent the majority of his time watching the brown-fire hair and hazel-blue eyed woman while he was at the hall not helping to serve drinks. A feeling in him he couldn't pin point… couldn't put a name to, always churned while about her, talking to her, watching her… It was an odd feeling, yet not one he disliked… It wasn't an uncomfortable one of any sort he'd felt before, so it didn't bother him that much. It just made him… watch her more… even care for her? Though he didn't know just what sort of caring, how much it was. It wasn't anything beyond friendly, as far as he knew. He wouldn't let it be. Jean and Sam were engaged to be married in a few short months and couldn't be any happier for the two of them.
No. It wasn't that sort of feeling. He liked her, yes. Admired and respected her… but in his jumbled thoughts, emotions, he knew it was above just friendship but lower then loving her… Or maybe it was loving her… just a different form? Maybe brotherly? He could see that. She was always teasing him, hugging him, giving small chaste kisses to his cheek. Heero knew if he'd grown up differently, lived with someone that actually loved him… If he knew what love *was*, felt like, then he might be able to tell *what* he felt for the Irish-Scottish woman. But, he was content to how things were and intended not to meddle his emotional baggage up anymore then it already was.
"Hero! 'Ero, 'Ero, 'Ero!!"
Lowering his head into both palms the Japanese boy shook his head helplessly while Sam laughed leaning against the bar watching him.
Jean could never say his name correctly thanks to her heavy accent. He had only ever heard his name come out of her mouth correctly once. That was when she was pissed beyond belief and he personally did not want to see her that way again. Now, every time she said his name it was plain "Hero" or, on occasion and overly excited, like now for instance, it was "'Ero", the 'h' gone completely silently in light of her accent which most words starting with 'h' seemed to do anyways, unless she put conscious effort into saying it correctly.
Strangely, for him, it didn't matter how she said his name. He always knew she was speaking of him. And the way in which she said it was… warm. A welcomed sound he looked forward to at the end of every day. No one else had ever spoken his name with the amount of warm emotion like she did. He liked it, liked it a lot.
Still… smirking in to his palms he wonder how long it would be before Jean's small hands tried pulling them away from his face. Did she always have to yell across the rooms at him like that? Anyone else would most likely *not* burry their head in their hands at the yelling - After all it was a sure dead give away to whom she was speaking… On the other hand though, he'd tried just ignoring her the first few times and was always whapped up side the head for it.
So Heero found burying his head in hands wasn't the best way to avoid her either… though it sure was funnier! Something he seriously lacked in his life and only found here.
"'Ero! 'Ero stop hidin' from meh boy! Ye know tha donna work annae ways!" Reaching up small hands grasped tanned wrists tugging, "Come on now! Let meh see them beautiful eye of yers! Come on now 'Ero lad open up!" tugging harder Jean threw a look stuck between a smirk and a grin towards her Irish-love, then looked back at the untamed haired boy. "'Ero" voice warning "donna make meh r'sort ta violence now… ye know ah donna care for it."
Blinking into his hands Heero was hard pressed not to laugh aloud.
'Violence.' The word alone made him smirk. The petite Irish woman didn't have a violent bone in her body! Thought striking him he split two fingers apart looking down at the woman before him, who smirked wickedly back at him. And then he understood.
She didn't mean 'violence'… She meant *Violence*. Her Violence.
Defeated, he lowered his hands lightly glaring at the damnedable woman. He would not, could not, stand up to *her* form of violence. Let alone would be *willingly* be submitted to it. He'd be damned before anyone else - who hadn't seen the previous 'violent attack' on him - knew where his most ticklish spots were. Hell! He didn't even *know* he was ticklish until she attacked him on night after his teasing her!
No thank you, he was *not* going through that again. He could stand up to a hornet stabbed mob, beat them into order in just under an hour, but damned if he'd be tickled in public with people he didn't (wholly) know watching once more.
"Jean…"
Smiling up at the tall boy innocently, said lady dropped her arms leisurely, "Aye lad?"
"That look doesn't suit you." Your not that innocent, he mentally grinned, keeping a straight face on the outside.
"Ye donna think so? Ah donno, ah beh thinkin' it does. Dun it Sam-love? Ah beh as innocent as always eh?" turning to look at the gray eyed, red headed man Jean smiled wiggling her brows drawing more laughter and a single nod from her love. "See" looking up at her Japanese friend she smiled, "I'm innocent."
"Hn."
"Ah know, ah know" sighing dramatically as she turned at another beckoning, filling a soda glass she leaned back mimicking Sam's stance, "Ye donna believe one damned word comin' from meh mouth 'cause ye've all done 'eard it before… Ah know… ah've 'eard it before also…"
"That bein' and she doesn't know she just said it again!" Sam's voice piped up with his Irish accent thrown into the brawl of voices, yet his wasn't as heavy as Jean's, a sign that somewhere down his linage, one of the family was not Irish or Scottish as Jean's pure blooded were.
"Damnit Sam, canna keep yer trap closed can ye? Just 'ad ta go an' tell tha lad- oh! Never ye mind meh lads!" a light dusty rose color tinted her already rosy cheeks as she refilled Heero's cup for something to do while getting her blush under control. Sticking her foot in her mouth wasn't her forte, but she found herself doing it all the time when the two of them boys got together. Sad part was, she thought, it wasn't a conscious effort for the two of them to achieve her foot-the-mouth-statements.
Feeling heat leaving her cheeks a nice lightly flushed color Jean turned back to her boys handing Heero's cup to him. "Ye know… ye've got nae life 'Ero." Starting slowly wondering where the bloody hell that line came from she shrugged at his arched brow, "Well it's true! Where ye go besides 'ere?"
Shrug.
"Aye, see there! Ah'm not wrong!"
"Nae" gray eyes twinkled while their owner walked over retrieving a small red basket to fill an order of nachos, "Ye never wrong are ya Love?"
Smacking Sam's backside huffing Jean mock glared at the thrice damned, loveable man, "Dinna ah ask ye ta keep tha' trap shut?" not waiting for a response he was posed to give, she knew she didn't ask him, she looked back over at Heero who had moved to fill another's drink order. "Why dun ye ever go out Hero? Ye spend all yer time 'ere with us-"
"Not that we don't rightly appreciate it!" Sam cut in quickly.
Fiery-brown hair swayed as Jean nodded her agreement, "Aye, truest words ah've 'eard yet! But 'Ero… dinna ye 'ave friends?"
Blinking, sea swirling eyes wondered why she was asking, now of all times. It was true he couldn't deny it. But why did she worry over him? He wasn't worth the effort or care. Wasn't used to the attention, the feelings her caring drug up in him. Even after a year of it. His guardian didn't do for him half the things these people tried to achieve, to give to him… It confused him… why they did these things. No one ever cared before… Why now?
"Why?" he asked suddenly staring at the floor. The one question rolling around in his head as if some lone player kept practicing hockey with a single puck, never failing to keep hitting it around his head as the playing field. It wasn't that he did not appreciate the things they did, the care they gave… Heero just didn't think he was worth it. A lifetime of no one caring is hard barrier to break after only a year of caring. No matter how much.
"Eh?" came Sam's intelligent reply.
Why? Why not? He was a wonderful kid to be around. Nice, polite, honest, hard working, funny once you got to know him. Lonely. Oh he'd never admit it, both him and Mary Jean knew that much. No, the Young Pup would never tell a single soul that his was yarning for something… reaching out for something to grasp onto. They - him and Mary Jean, had come to their own conclusions as to how his past might've been like. And it wasn't pretty. They knew, from his talks, he didn't have family. Nae, he never spoke it, but he avoided when asked. Sure signs that either it was truth, no family, or it was a hellish world to live in.
Either way it went didn't cloud over the fact that they each had come to know the boy, like and think of him like one of their own. Bless Mary Jean's little heart, Sam shot her a look before tending to the bar's patrons once more; she'd come to love that boy like her own blood, like a child she hopped to have but never could. She did everything within her own she could for him. Small things, things that to other people wouldn't matter that much; but to him, to Heero they knew, meant the world.
Asking how his day was. Seeing if he needed anything, no matter what. Mary Jean giving him back rubs, massaging his shoulders after an extenuating day at work… things on the house at the Hall… Small things. Thing any loving family or friend would do for another. Things that Sam and his darling girl had known from nearly first setting eyes on the wild haired boy that he'd never had. Eyes were the windows to the soul, so every one knew and said. Heero's eyes, the brightest midnight blue, were full of loneliness and sorrow. They knew the cause for such an ingrained look on the young face after talking to him a while.
It was saddening, Jean thought watching her boy hand over another drink with the woman's change. She loved the messy haired wild-eyed Japanese boy. It was something that needed to be rectified, now. No one should go though life wondering why another showed concern for them, helped them, nursed them while ill… No, this was something she needed to handle before he doubted himself even more, scarring such thoughts into his mind and hindering him from ever finding someone to spend his life with.
An' 'ow would 'e know? Ah'd like ta beh told! Jean thought observing her lover talking with the taller boy. 'E dunna talk much at all, 'es hard ta open up ta annae one. 'E dinna get cared for as a wee strappling. An 'e sure woulna know love if it bit 'im in tha aurse! Shaking her head amused at the running thought and truth behind it Jean picked up the side phone calling into the back office for Kara to come up front and help Sam while she wondered up stairs for a minute.
"I'm here!" a chipper voice called out happily slipping in between the other three. "Hey Heero!"
"Hn" still lost in a twister of thoughts he only grunted in response. He needn't worry, Kara knew him nearly as well as the owners and took no offence to his non-comment moments.
"Sam-love, we'll beh back shorla! Ah've got meh some skull crackin' ta beh seein' ta!" with that and an iron like hold on a muscled arm, Jean tugged the minute startled young man towards the back and up the short flight of stairs to their apartment.
Heero ignored his surroundings of lavish blues and greens as he was led and pushed into large open area where one could take in the bedroom, kitchen and living room all in one swipe; the only thing sectioning them off if it was so desired were Japanese paper screens. All the things, trinkets his eyes saw mind ignored in light of his current turmoil.
"Why?" asking again looking up from his gently shoved position on the star splashed black bed coverings, gazing at the smaller woman in confused wonder while she zipped around grabbing two cups and some packets. She spent a few moments at the stove humming, before returning to his side, sitting on the bed with one leg folded underneath her, body twisted slightly to face him as she handed him his cup of green tea.
"Hero" beginning softly staring at her cup a few seconds Jean looked deep into his eyes, searching. "'Ave ye realla not known why we treat ye like we do lad?"
"No." was his immediate answer. He'd thought of it, dreamt of the reason even, but could not come up with a single one his mind would allow him to believe. His experience in life forced him to recognize that one did not do something without gaining another from it. Thus he tended to be the 'lone wolf', doing things himself so he avoided being in those types of situations. But with them, with Sam and Jean it was different. They did things for him and expected nothings, absolutly nothing in return.
"Aww 'Ero lad… 'Ow can ye not know tha reason we beh actin' 'ow we do 'round ye?"
He hesitated, dropping her locked gaze to look within his cup, as if it held the answers to his questions when in fact he knew the woman sitting beside him did. It was hard though, to talk openly about things… to speak of what he didn't know, couldn't wrap his mind around… it was a weakness… One he did not wish to share, even if… even if he knew instinctively that whatever may be said in this room, *stayed* in this room… even if being around the couple for a year proved such thoughts as the hard truth.
Jean was patient though. Sitting there, watching him as she sipped from her cup, waiting for him to collect his wording enough to speak. It was difficult; she understood, for someone like him to put his emotions, fears, thoughts no one would ever know, into words. So she waited 'til he was ready… Neither were leaving her home until this was settled and he understood more why they did what they did.
"I…" starting and halting Heero tightened his hold on the steaming mug, "I don't…" growling at himself for his inability to say what should be so simple he looked up sharply, "I can't figure out why…" his eyes glimmered confusion, "Why?"
Smiling warmly, Jean nodded mentally reasserting that she was in the presence of a very strong man. A man who could admit his weakness, his failing capability to grasp what he didn't understand; it took a strong person to admit these faults.
"Hero-pup" she said slowly, trying to get his name right again. She nearly grinned as his eyes narrowed at the 'pup' addition. It was cute really, they sort of crinkled in the corners she noticed and shook her head. "Ye dinna 'ave annae one ta love ye, 'ave ye lad?" she didn't wait for an answer. She knew; the look in his eyes screamed it. "We do wha we do out of love darlin' dear. We love ye 'Ero."
He blinked, not comprehending her simple answer. They loved him? Why? Why did they love him? He never did anything. If it was pity, he didn't want that! Yet, he knew… Again he knew they would not do something out of pure pity, it wasn't who they were; they weren't that type… Then why… Stars above why did they care for him? He wasn't worth it… he wasn't…
As his head started to lower from her piercing hazel-blue orbs he noticed the faultless warmth in them, an emotion he could never place before. Was that what love looked like in someone's eyes? A sparkle of light unlike that of a rooms lighting or simple shimmering of colors… Was that something that came from their hearts, their souls? Heero wasn't sure, but had seen the look before, many times, in Jean and Sam's eyes… inner warmth directed at him.
He'd never seen that look in anyone else's eyes before directed at him. His eyes fell back to his cup.
"'Ero-love…" reaching out slowly, carefully with tender fingers Jean lifted the fallen chin upwards, running her thumb calmly over his cheek when their eyes met. "'Ero, ah know wha ye beh thinkin' lad" his eyes squinted the tiniest bit, "Ye dun 'ave ta know why we do it. Ye dun 'ave ta beh 'worthy' of it… Ye judge to harshly yer self worth darlin'." Shaking her head softly she raised her hand running fingers through is hair before bringing it back to her side, sipping from her cup.
"'Ero-pup, love donna matter who it's given ta… it donna care wha tha person think of 'imself… it just *is*." That wasn't quite what she meant to say, but it was hard trying to find the right words… Heero wasn't the only one possessing problem of word control. "It… Ye dinna 'ave ta do annae thin' for us ta love ya hun… We just do… Ye grew onta us ye know? Ye've got charm about ye, ye dinna even know Young Pup."
"Not you too…" muttering at the name once more he still wanted to know why. "If…" How did he say it? On the tip of his tongue refusing to come forth to be spoken… He really, really hated not having grown into a more talkative person… yet that was his upbringing, nothing could change that… "If that's true…" he paused giving a slight nod, keeping her eyes locked with his, "…what you said… Then why? What-… I need to know!"
It broke her heart, a tiny piece at the sadness in his voice, the confusion so clear like crystal. He truly had no idea. Nothing in his life to prepare him for someone else's love… he himself didn't even know he was capable of it.
Setting her cup aside, taking his from the strong grip and placing it with hers she boldly leaned over pulling him backwards into her lap hugging him. She felt him go stiff as a board, lifting one arm to run a soothing hand through his hair to calm him she waited until a sigh escaped his lips, before going on.
"Love's som'thin ta give freela deary, it's strong, ye've got ta be careful who ye give it ta… it can come back ta 'urt ye… But it's worth it… when it all works out." hushing him by placing a hand on his cheek she said, "Love's a give an take, a chance an win sort of ride… Ye've got ta take a chance an see wha's out t'ere if its someone ye like." Giggling to herself she nudged his shoulder gently, "Look at ol' Sam an meh! We took chances, and won…" ohh Mother above slap her please! She wasn't cut out for this explaining stuff… However she wasn't letting him leave until he understood, "'Ero?"
"Hn."
"Do ye see… if'n just a wee bit? M'sorra love, ah'm not good at explainin' this sort of thin'… but ah beh damned if'n ah let ye out of 'ere not understandin' a wee bit of it!"
Snorting at her explaining of this 'love' to him, Heero gave a small nod, feeling his hair tickle her face. He could understand… a 'wee bit' of it… maybe. So love was something that one gave to another… if you liked them? But wonder if it was just a little bit of liking them? Then did you give them a little love or did that just mean you liked them enough to call them your friend? Was there a difference?
"How… how do you know?" he rested his head on her small shoulder, "The difference?"
"Tha deferance?" giving that some thought her hand moved to play in his baby fine hair again, wondering how it could look so damned wild and yet feel as soft as deer's fir? "Ah! Ah see wha ye mean… Deferance… Well" she went into *trying* to explain to him how to tell when he met someone they became friends - of course he had some so he wasn't stupid there - but she went on to tell of how he might know if their more then that. A very tricky task indeed, there should be a manual out for this sort of thing!
"Hn."
"Do ye understand… or did ah just scramble ye noggin' up?" giving a few taps to his hard head for example.
Catching her wrist he smirked, though she couldn't see it, and nodded, "Hai… demo naze?" slipping into his native tongue he shook his head, "Why me? Why love me?"
"Aw tha's an e'sa question!" smiling she hugged him tighter, "Ye just loveable!!" giggling at his growl she popped his head one. "Honestla 'Ero, ye are and dinna even know it! Tha thin's ye do 'ere at the Hall… tha jokes ye try crackin'… Ye gettin'' betta ya know?" he grunted, it even sounded light to her ears as if humored. "Ye do thin's ye dun 'ave ta 'cause ye care for us… Tha means a lot 'Ero… a lot ta us…"
Heero tipped his head to the side, trying to see her face and asked, "Like what?" in mild curiosity.
"Ohh lets see 'ere… 'Ow 'bout when ye act like a scolded sad pup when ah turn a mean look on ye?" chuckling at his sudden stiffening and loosening of his shoulders, "Dinna think ah noticed it did ye? heh Silly lad, of course ah noticed! Ye tried ta 'elp meh bring meh temper down before ah dun went an did som'thin stupid… Thank ye laddie… ye such a kind lovin' boy, an tha sad thin' is ye donna know it… Ye dun see wha ye do evera day… but we do…" Trailing off in thought she stared at the quiet boy in her arms, giving wonder to how long they had been up there.
"We love ye, and ye love us" she popped his forearm that had snuck up covering her own while her quiet voice soothed over his frayed nerves, cutting off his rejection. "Ye know it's true or ye woulna do half tha thin's ye do for us! We love ye 'cause yer tha first ta come in an get ta know us, care for us… Ye donno 'ow much that means 'Ero-love…" her voice cracked a little, "…'ow much…" hugging him tighter fighting to get her voice back under control she laughed a little at his questioning eyes blinking up at her, studying her. "Ah'm fine love… just a little… chocked up… Gods above we love ye 'Ero-pup, ye need ta know tha…"
Slowly he nodded…
Pulling back from him she jabbed his ribs until he turned to face her fully. "We. Love. Ye." punctuating each word, drilling it into his mind she smiled, eyes strong and serious. "If'n ever… ever… ye need some place ta go… someone ta talk ta… Come 'ere, a'right? 'Ere. We'll always be 'ere for ye… Just rememba that… There's always someone tha loves ye."
"Aye." A new voice joined them, causing them to jump a little in the pin drop quietness. Just how long had he been there? they wondered. "Jean and ah do love ye. Yer a sweet kid, ye help out when ye donna realla have ta… Ye jab and jer with the best of us…" Sam shook his head walking to stand before them both, eyes just as warm and sparkling as Jean's had been all night. "It's som'thin that's hard ta explain, ah know, but ye've just got ta take our word for it. We do love ye, very much, like ye were one of our famila… and we'd do anything ta help ye out, like ye've done for us. Anythin'."
Stunned, the Japanese young man blinked, nodded, and continued to try processing everything that was being told to him this night. It was certainly the most interesting and informative night of his life. As he looked back, flipped through his memory files of the times spent at Tsuki Doriimaa's Tengoku. He recalled all the warm looks they gave him, tried remembering all the confusing emotions those looks brought up inside of him… and he… he understood… a little of what those feelings had been… are…
Standing to her feet Jean leaned over giving her love a kiss and bright smile before turning back to the boy on the bed, watching them with shining eyes… eyes of someone finding out the truth, both given and self. Smiling her brightest holding out her hand towards him, silently beckoning him to her. As he took that hand, Jean's smile seemed to light up more, though Heero wasn't sure how that was possible, as bright as it already was… Then it hit him. It hadn't brightened. It got warmer. It shocked him so, that he didn't notice the embrace she had pulled him into, and that Sam had rounded on them pulling both into his arms.
Group hug, his mind noted. He chuckled.
"Good ta see yer back in spirits boy!" winking Jean pecked both her boys on the cheeks before starting for the stairs calling over her shoulder, "Come on ye slow hound dogs! We've work ta beh doin'!"
Two pairs of eyes blinked, glanced at one another and blinked again.
"Is she always like this ye think? Canna we beh gettin' any rest 'round here?"
Heero, feeling a bit lighter (he thought) from his nagging questions having been more or less answered, some feeling felt out and labeled… decided it was time to return to the norm. Talking with someone, without fear of being ridiculed or looked down upon was nice, he decided… but that conversation was… mushy. heh Snorting mentally he wondered where he had picked that word up but decided he did fit what Jean just tried her damnedest to explain to get through to him… He wasn't used to such talks, but… now… now he could get back to something he was used to. Like teasing for example.
"I'm not sure." He used his normal monotone and kept a straight face while watching Sam, "But I do know it could only get worse… and your engaged to her." With that and a suppressed snort of laughter he left the other man standing in his living room, mouth agape.
.
~ * @ * ~
'
Wednesday night, six o'clock was the time on the wall as Heero entered Jean's a day later. Music thumping with a saucy tune, people milling around, eyeing pool tables trying to line up shots and score wins. Grinning a little (a look Jean told him was wolfishly handsome) walking over to hang his coat up in the back office with Kara he threw her a quiet "Hello" before heading back to the front, slipping behind the bar quietly.
Jean was present, working on two orders of nachos and one small pizza. His grin widened a bit waiting for her hands to be freed. He wasn't sure where Sam was, probably upstairs straightening things out or perhaps he wasn't feeling well? He hopped that wasn't the case, if so though, he'd have to run up and take a look at the older man. After all, he did have medical experience, he could help out a little more if he were.
Sneaking, making light steps behind the brown head of fire Heero watched as the last plate left small hands before he walked right up behind the woman making a quiet motion with his finger to lips as someone noticed him. Then, without warning for the poor woman he brought his hands up attacking her sides. Heero Yuy was not the only one ticklish.
"WHA THA!?" startled snort turned laughter as able hands attacked her sides without show of easing up, "Who t-tha…" twisting about, or rather, *trying* to twist about, Jean caught the tail ends of dark coffee hair. "ERO!!" gasping for breath, shoulders shaking helplessly, "ERO-PUP STOP! PLAES!"
"Well…" muttering humored under his breath, hands dropping, "since you said please."
Thankful to breath again she turned taking a few breaths before lunging forward attacking the young man's soft spots sending him into short rounds of rich laughter which, she noted with great mirth, drew quite the many looks to him. "Ye think ye can strike on tha masta? Ah donna beh thinkin' so!"
Smirking, her hands moving over strong rib sides Jean spent a few scant seconds more attacking his ticklish areas before stepping back, a self-satisfied smile on her rosy lips. It grew drastically as her eyes locked with smiling midnight-blues. Her hopes and prayers nights before had been answered! She mentally cheered walking up to hug the taller boy whose eyes shone with a new warmth and merry twinkle when he looked at her. Her talk had indeed sunk into his thick skull and seemed to make sense to him, or at least a little to where he understood more what he was feeling.
"How ye doin' Hero-love? Was work al'ight?" she stepped back, letting him take the new order someone flagging them down for.
"Hai. It was about the same." Which would include being boring, over amounts of paper work, noisy people that would not be quieted if a tsunami came rolling through and shitty coffee. Rather then that, it was a normal day.
Giggling Jean set about fixing a cup of her special brew for the Asian man, "'Ere ye go Hero. This beh wha ye need lad, an at least tha crowds 'ere are meant ta beh loud, eh?" patting his back motherly like Jean walked into the crowded room heading up the back stairs leaving Heero to man the bar himself. He was an able boy after all, a "natural" as her Sam was fond of saying.
"Heero! Ah beh hearin' ye laughin' down here!" Sam's joyfully light voice called out over the hall's loud mess of sounds; Heero shook his head, small smile lighting his face anew. "Ah! So I see meh love here wasn't lyin'!" Oh she'd never lie to him, he knew this, but teasing was just too much fun!
"Ah'll give ye som'thin ta beh sorra 'bout if'n ye donna watch it Sweet Eyes!" chuckling at them both Heero sat back against the bar watching. "An ye!" Jean turned on her blue-eyed devil, "Ye need ta laugh more often!" It was a loved order and she knew he knew it, "Ah've got someone ah want ye ta meet-" suddenly pausing tilting her head to the side a wide smile lit her face as a song started blaring over the speakers.
.
~*~ @ ~*~
If you're coming with me you need nerves of steel
Cause I take corners on two wheels
~*~ @ ~*~ @ ~*~
'
"…an 'E just showed up too! 'Es got great timin' le'meh tell ye! Come on 'Ero!" small hands grasped a muscled arm as the small Irish-Scott led the Japanese boy off around the corner, Sam's quiet chuckles following them from the bar.
Having no choice but to follow his lively friend Heero let himself be pulled about the Hall and towards the back where loud laughter caught his ear, causing it to twitch locking in on the source… the source they seemed to be heading to.
"DAMNIT! GET OFF THE TABLE!"
"Aww chill Tro, not like your slim ass does sit on it to shoot!"
There was a growl, a smirk in the voice he could as they drew nearer, "Maybe, but at least I sit on it to *shoot!* Not sitting on it when someone *else* is trying to shoot!"
"Hey! Hey!" rounding the corner Heero stopped in time to miss hitting Jean in the back as she quit walking to watch the scene unfolding before them. There was a brown chestnut haired boy with a mid thigh length braid snaking down his back to curl up on the tables top where he was perched. Another boy, near five inches taller then Heero stood on the opposite end poking the braided on in his behind with his cue. "No pokin' the ass unless you're implyin' something! Even then no pokin'!"
Heero didn't know he was capable of blushing.
"Then get off the damned table!" sighed the taller teen of auburn that covered one half his face leaving a single stunning green eye watching his friend. He appeared to be French… though Heero wasn't sure, maybe European? "Gods your such a waltzing walking pain in the ass!"
"No." the braided boy - American his mind noted, hopped from the table landing in a small bow, violet eyes (violet!?) twinkling as he grinned cheekily replying, "I'm a "waltzing walking" Smart Ass!" before moving off to the small table on the side laughing.
'
~*~ @ ~*~
It's a never-ending circus ride
The faint of heart need not apply
~*~ @ ~*~ @ ~*~
'
"You have got to be kidding me…"
Grinning Jean grabbed her adoptive (if only in heart) Japanese son's shirt collar dragging him over to the two bickering boy smiling pleasantly. "Duo lad! Ah've brot ye another one ta play against!" Would have said that differently she would, but she hadn't wanted to scare off her Asian boy like that. He was hard enough opening up to people on his own… She needn't say something that would provoke the attitude her American friend was in to cause her timid person boy to run from him.
"Yo J-babe! What's kickin' girfriend!?" It never failed to draw a nice cherry blush from the woman, as it had now, which was why he greeted her in the manner every time. Her new friend though… Head turning slightly violet eyes regarded the tall boy at her side.
He was Japanese that much was certain. However… how a Japanese came across brown hair and stunningly bright cobalt eyes was beyond him. He didn't judge people, wasn't his way so it didn't matter none, just one of them questions that bugged ya 'til eventually you answered it. He held an athletic build, strong broad shoulders tapering down to a slim waist into long lean legs. His shirtsleeve revealed arms, which were muscled but not overly so; they were lean muscles where you saw the slight bulge of them under skin, but it wasn't unsightly. Duo held no doubt had the boy been wearing shorts his legs would mimic the muscled look.
His hands (something he had always been attracted to) were bit big, long slim fingers like a pianists stemming from them; they were slightly callused so the young man did something besides working out. His face was softly chiseled like a masterpiece of marble come to life, all soft pointed curves and smooth skin. He had a small slight upturned nose, eyes of blazing cobalt hidden behind the most disobedient, wild bangs he had ever seen before! But by the Gods he was a beautiful. Must be a curse, he grinned, forever to be surrounded by handsome people! Ah such was his life!
"Hiya!" walking forward extending his hand with a friendly smile sensing the others unease of meeting new people; that was right by him, he'd been shocked if this young handsome thing in front of him accepted him with a welcoming look. "I'm Duo! Duo Maxwell!"
Hesitating, Heero looked the other over and found no flaw. Was he even looking for one? The boy held the most amazing violet eyes he had never seen before. He didn't even know people could have eye colors like that aside from contacts. Unruly bangs hung into those violet orbs, the rest of his ungodly long hair pulled back into a braid that did indeed, reach mid thigh and looked as soft as silk. His skin was a fine pale peach; the skin of someone that spent much time in the sun but had to fight tooth and nail to get even the slightest tan, whereas he himself was darkly tanned but not overly so from practicing his arts out in his back yard.
Duo was tall, three or so inches taller then his Asian ancestry let him be. His boy was compact, lithe, one that hid the strength it was capable of exposing. If Heero had to bet on this young man and another of the Hall's patrons duking it out, he would bet on the one standing in front of him. Something in him said his soft friendly looks disguised a hidden fighter within, one, which might even be capable of sparring with him longer then twenty minutes. Finally, his analysis over with, Heero stretched out his tanned hand grasping the lighter one. His mind mulled over the color difference (though not a great one) before a sharp stab in his ribs had him glaring down at the small woman at his side and letting go of the others hand.
"Yuy" he nodded bowing slightly, "Heero Yuy."
Beaming and giving a quick jerky bow back Duo smiled brightly, "Pleasure ta meetcha Heero!"
"This 'eres our pride an joy Duo-lad, ye betta treat 'im nicely or ah'lls take back tha free drinks!" It was only sodas, St. Patrick strike her down for teasing to draw away his Dr. Pepper! But Heavens the shocked hurt look he gave her! Hanging on the table's side like someone done shot his heart out! "A'ight laddie ye needn't git all th'atr'cal on meh now!" smiling she turned towards her boy leaning on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek and pat his arm, "Now ye play nice 'Ero! Donna make meh come back 'ere ta beat ye both!" with that and a wink Jean about-faced practically skipping back to the bar. Only to return scant minutes later with Heero's own favored drink and disappearing again.
"'Our pride an joy?'" Duo quirked a brow quoting.
Shrugging, an illusive smirk forming, "I'm adopted," Heero commented mentally snorting at the meaning of those two small words.
'
~*~ @ ~*~
Mi vida loca over and over
Destiny turns on a dime
~*~ @ ~*~ @ ~*~
'
"Ah, I see" when truth he didn't, but hey, he wasn't going to dive into personal stuff like that. 'Sides, he knew how "Mama Jean" was on taking certain people under her motherly wing. He just figured that Heero was her new charge. A new charge that she wanted him to be nice to and most likely, draw him out into the world of the living more then what he's been living in so far. Which, as Duo tilted his head to look closer, noticed it was more recently then it had his life before finding Tsuki Doriimaa's Tengoku… heh so many come in this place finding new life within them.
This however was not the first person that his "J-babe" had pushed his way and wanted some sort of help or just to be a friend to. Take his other quiet friend for instance… oh yeah; he hadn't introduced the two yet! "Hey Heero!" stepping up to him, slowly raising a hand so the other had time to back away or decline it, Duo placed it on Heero's shoulder lightly pushing him towards the other side of the table, "Meet Trowa Barton! Tro-man meet Heero Yuy!" There, all nicely met up!
"I have ears Duo." Trowa smirked extending a hand for the other to shake, "Nice to meet you Heero. Please, don't mind Duo, he can be a bit eccentric at times."
"WHAT!?"
Smirking, nodding towards the taller youth and his playful jab at the other Heero let a small chuckle pass his lips, "It's in his eyes anyhow. Probably born with it."
Trowa snorted tossing over his pool cue going to pick out a new one. He liked this guy. "So… new game?"
"Yeah, Quiets vs. Eccentric," muttered Duo sounding put out. It might have worked… if not had he been grinning when saying it.
Looking at one another the two on the right nodded, "Alright" That sounded find to their ears. Duo, realizing what he'd just did sighed, "Unholy Hell I'm gonna loose again!" on his way to pick another cue since he and Trowa had been sharing.
'
~*~ @ ~*~
I go where the wind blows
You can't tame a wild rose
Welcome to my crazy life
~*~ @ ~*~ @ ~*~
.
"That ain't fair! No." shaking his head, braid flying, "No way man, that shit don't fly!"
"No it didn't. I believe they call it "rolling"."
"Look don't get smart with me!" Smirking Duo wagged a finger in the others face then pointed to the table, "There's no rule in Hell that says one guy can shoot the other guy moves the ball!"
"Duo" Trowa stepped up root beer in hand tipping the bottle at the braided boy, "As far as I knew, Hell wasn't playing this game and he didn't move the ball. It "rolled" into hole when he got off the table."
"Yeah!" the younger agreed, "That's 'cause his fat ass was sitting on the other balls!" That didn't sound right he snickered.
Heero for his part looked hurt, "Fat ass?" even made show of turning to try peering at his slim behind then to the one that spoke, "It's fat?" arching a brow.
Laughing Trowa knew there wasn't a way out of it for the American teen.
"Well…" he didn't lie, wasn't going to make a start of it now, but… He just couldn't - didn't know if he should fess up that he had, in fact, been watching the others ass when he leaned over to shoot. That he had a wonderful view of his muscled thighs after hopping up to sit on the table for a back shot. So the unavoidable question was… Did he or did he not, tell his new friend… a friend of going on three hours mind you, that he has been well watched?
Eventually he couldn't put off not answering any long and flushed a striking red from cheek to neck, his head dipping ever so much while looking sidelong at the jukebox, "Well… no, it's uh… mighty nice…" giving a fake cough he left to get another soda leaving the two semi-quiet men behind him just laughing it up.
Heero was watching Duo's swinging braid as he walked off in something of a state of shock, his shoulders shaking lightly with quieted chuckles; even he couldn't miss the humor in the events.
He hadn't however, had much practice in "playing around" with others, nor having others complimenting him in such ways. Almost… what was that word used nowadays? "Hitting" on him? Yes, he nodded silently to himself. It seemed Duo was trying to hit on him, or flirt in someway… Not too sure how to take that but in stride, Heero didn't say anything about it. He was however, put to some ease with Trowa's calming comment about the American's oath never to lie. So while Heero may not have been sure how to return the gracious comment, if at all, he was put to rest that Duo meant what he said… Even if it caused his new Japanese friend to feel slightly confused and charged from it.
Some minutes later shaking his head Heero grabbed the empty bottles around them heading up to the bar. Walking up behind it to the large trash can there he threw in the old bottles listening to them clang against others. Glancing over his shoulder locking stormy seas with violet orbs, a smug smirk crossed his lips at Duo's amazingly curious expression, most likely due to his being *behind* the bar and grabbing three new bottles before leaving without a word.
Watching the Asian youth walk towards the bar Duo groaned. Great, he was going to get the shit beat out of him and not be able to hold the other off 'cause of his stupid (though honest!) comment on his ass. And what a fine ass it is! His mind crowed grinning while he hung his head a little more keeping the wild haired man in his sights. When Heero entered behind the bar chunking away their old bottles and grabbing new ones he hopped that his surprise didn't show much on his face. What was Heero doing? How come he was able to waltz back there and grab what he wanted to leave without raising a brow from Sam or J-babe? Was he *that* much under Jean's wing? He wanted to sign up!
Alas before he could open his preverbal "loud mouth" the other had walked away with new drinks and the smuggest looking smirk Duo was sure had ever graced those chiseled features. Finding that he wasn't in fact going to get the shit beat out of him, much less that Heero looked like he didn't care what was said - which was a wonderful thing! - Duo stood from his stool to follow catching up and making endless chatter, bantering back and forth between his friend before Heero had mentioned some hour later that he needed to go, had a long day ahead of him tomorrow.
Duo and Trowa bid him a farewell with promise to meet him there tomorrow after work. With that and a wave, Heero was gone. Back in the bar behind him, Duo still talking up a storm to his French companion was suddenly interrupted by a quiet, "I remember that name…" from Trowa.
"Huh?"
"I know that name from somewhere… Yuy… I wonder though…" but Duo had shrugged him off anxious to get another game in before leaving himself. He started a new job in two days; he needed to get his things in order before going.
'
~*~ @ ~*~
Sweetheart before this night is through
I could fall in love with you
~*~ @ ~*~ @ ~*~
'
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/*\_/*\_/*\_/*\_/*\_/*\_/*\_/*\_/*\_/*\_/*\
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* Tsuki Doriimaa's Tengoku = Moon Dreamer's Heaven
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^_^ 2nd and final part coming soon! ^_^ Please review and let me know whatcha think thus far!
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Arigatou! ~ AR
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By: Anime Redneck
5-15-03
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Disclaimer: I don't own the GW Guys nor the song "Mi Vida Loca" by Pam Tillis'. I do however own the plot, meh truck and ye canna 'ave either! ^__^
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~*~ @ ~*~
'
It was quickly becoming a habit, the man in the gray poets shirt, snug black jeans, military issue combat boots and dusk blue duster knew… yet he couldn't force himself to care one bit. So he was going back again. What was the up rise there? It was a nice place, peaceful, loud, good company… If any every got in his good graces to be called good company, then one was honored. It wasn't simply that he was exceptionally handsome and one got to be in his presence… wasn't that it took a lot to get the man talking, nor the fact he was a hard one to like.
It was the simple fact that this man held no close friends. The simple fact that this man was beyond being a stubborn hard ass to impress or plain just get to open up enough that he *would* relax in your company. Once he did though… it was the most amazing thing in the world. *That* was why most in the building he was headed, were humbly honored or pleased, to be called his acquaintances - or, to the very few he regularly saw, his friends.
This of course, extended to the buildings owner: Mary Jean Scott.
Mary Jean Scott, the wild eyed man came to learn over the year, is a sweet motherly lady of twenty-seven - six years his elder - with a backbone to rival his own. There'd been many a time he watched someone start up a fight refusing to depart the building at her advising. He felt bad for them, truly he did… the poor saps didn't have brain enough to know when to leave something at that and walk away.
Fortunately enough for the others in the building having to watch, Mary would round the bar picking up her trusty broom handle with soft grip and enter the fight herself; batting them over the head yelling for them to "Grow up, shut up and sit down!" or to "Go beat tha shit outta each otha in tha parkin' lot ye damned dolts!"
Ms. Mary Jean Scott was also part Irish and part Scottish, though one would never know it with her brown hair with red hues and her hazel-blue eyes. The only thing giving her heritage away to patrons entering her establishment was her decorating sense and accent. She had to assure people, on more occasions then the young man could count, that she was indeed Irish-Scottish.
The man's wild eyes smiled as he crossed the street at the crosswalks toning. Jean - she had insisted all her friends called her that, Mary was too much a used name though she still loved it - had her hazel-blue eyes set in a lean yet slight rounded face, framed by her near waist length brownish-red hair, which all but a few strands, one could almost always find her wearing in a ponytail, or just the top half pulled back in one while the rest was free to hang as it pleased. She was a thin yet slightly rounded woman standing of a mere 5'7", barely just rising to his shoulders and he never stopped getting a jolt of joyous pleasure from seeing her having to look *up*, at him to glare.
It was normal; having woman shorter then he look up into his eyes, so he didn't mind nor truly care if that was all they did. But when one tried turning a menacing glare - and Jean could carry the look wonderfully - on him… and had to look *up* accomplish it… Well it just sort of lost its evil intent and became humorous to him. Thankfully though, he was gifted with brilliant mind, excellent memory and manors to boot. He never once told her she looked silly trying to glare up at him like that. The only way they worked on him were if he happened to be sitting down when she did it. Then, and nearly only then, did her glares get through to him.
Oh he loved to sit and jib her about being so short and glaring at people, and she'd joke right on back at him. But he wore enough sense about him to know not to joke about it while she was honestly ticked beyond limit and glared at him. Even if it weren't his fault. He would rightly screw his sharp-featured face into one of mock guilt, eyes of comfort. Even if it weren't his fault, he'd play the part to get her ire down.
If Jean wasn't happy, weren't nobody happy.
As he walked the wind picked up ruffling his duster's unclasped tails causing them to fly smacking his legs, anything that he passed too close to. Now, as he glanced up in pure wonder, he noticed he was right where he'd been heading the last twenty minutes. He had tried to convince his newest acquaintance - he shook his head… no, he should call the blonde headed boy his friend by now. He couldn't be any other with his sweet innocent like personality and gentle heart. Be it as it were, he had tried to pull the blonde man to Jean's with him, but he had other plans and promised to take him up on the next offer.
Little did the blonde young man know; he visited Jean's just most every night. He'd try not to make it a point of asking everyday after work. He would be hard pressed to do so though… Jean's was a rowdy and exciting (though outwardly he'd never admit it) place to "wind down" at. With the blondes noted outlook on life and "living for the moment" there was no doubt in his mind the small man would find his excitement at Jean's.
Taking a moment to himself the rugged handsome man stopped, finding himself admiring the buildings beautiful artwork once more. He could never imagine how someone was able to think all of it up. He had his own talents, but it didn't really extend past excelling in physical sports, martial arts or computers. He himself could not paint (besides house wise), could not sing (wouldn't even attempt it)… but what stood before him… was one of the few beauties he had ever seen in his short life.
Wild blue eyes looked up from across the street at the building over him. It stood merely two stories tall; the roof was made to mimic the ancient Chinese style of clay-shingled roofing, which peaked in the middle then sloped gently downwards. Now he had seen pictures in history classes of the ancient housing styles of many cultures. So he knew that both Japanese and Chinese styles were very similar… Yet, even if both styles went from middle peaked roofs that sloped ever so slowly towards the house or buildings end, the four corners always went from gentle slope downwards and turned upwards with some form of statue on the ends of those four upturned corner peaks.
Jean's place was no different from those other structures. Though hers did have the middle peak, the slop and four upturned corners, what made her place slightly different was the over hang. Now it's true that most buildings you see, regardless of which culture they derived from… all have some form of over hang. Jean's however, had an overhang that still slanted downwards another foot before it smoothly turned upwards in a loose 'J' fashion. Why was that different even with the upturned corner peaks? Easy. Her foot overhang shadowed the wide arched windows she had installed, leaving only six foot to be seen of the normally eight foot.
He supposed in the long run it wasn't all that different, but for the buildings design it really stood out. The rest of the two-story building on the other hand looked sort of plain. She managed somehow during construction to get the siding looking like blue-green bamboo shoots climbing up all sides, disappearing under the shingled overhang. Each arched window had a metallic silver painted 2x4 outlining it's edges; it looked a normal flat gray until the sun hit, catching the metallic sheen, causing it to sparkle and shine.
The first floor windows held the same treatment except they weren't arched like the second floors; they were standard six wide by four-foot tall square windows. The entrance, a single black tinted glass door stood in the middle with a small 'open' sign showing though the glass, two windows flanked it on either side, each tinted like the door. The pride and joy of the buildings outside - if he said so him self - had to be the buildings sign.
It was unique, didn't see many of it's kind around this part of town. The sign itself was a good fifteen-foot wide by seven high and spanned the distance between both floors… starting just a little above the bottom windows and ending just a little under the top windows. It was a wonderful combination of artist painting and electrical lighting. Jean had made sure the signs backing was shaped like one large cloud, no sharp straight points, just bubbled roundness wherever you looked. It was painted much like the bluish-white clouds in the sky were, rolling, shifting shades of blue and white mixing into a fluffy realistic look.
On each end of the painted sign, seemingly sitting in the middle of the soft clouds sat a lovely vision. Each were girls, long past waist length hair flowing about a willowy frame incased in a loose toga like dress. The young girls were painted in such a way, it looked like they were leaning back on their cloud to stare off into the sky above them, almost dreamy like, eyes wide and wondering. In the space between the girls and clouds it appeared to look as if night were falling towards the top middle, little silver stars twinkled back at you.
And above all the painted artwork, the distance between the two girls hung the electric blue-white cursive lettering of the buildings name: Tsuki Doriimaa's Tengoku.*
Smiling in silent humor the young man started across the street to enter the fine building. It was funny really, the name and design of the buildings outside. He knew, understood what that name meant, it was in Japanese after all and that was his native tongue. The name itself wasn't what was funny, as many before him had said, it was "inviting and wondrous" it truly grabbed peoples attention. If not the name, then it was the buildings style. How many Asian style buildings do you normally see nestled between a world of modern architecture? A natural eye catcher.
No, shaking his head as he entered immediately looking for that familiar stock of brownish-red hair, it was that difference between inner and outer which drew his humor. It was as if one had stepped from the futile era into an Irish poolroom pub! Two sides of a coin if you will, each totally different. The outside gave a feeling of curiousness and calm to those gazing at it, a wonder filled you, driving you to enter and see just *what* such an establishment was.
Let him be the first to say… The outer shell tricked many a person to enter the lavish, homely-aired place. One of such tricked people for instance… was himself. The name had caught his attention, captured his curiosity. What type of building would bare such a name? Was it a bookstore? Surely with a name like that it would hold something similar. Maybe an antique store? He'd seen many of them scattered around these parts. It was an oddity, rarely happened… yet the young man had found his curiousness controlled his feet, marching him up and into the building some day year past.
Now all he could do when a curious wonderer waltzed in with a stunned expression on his or her face, was shake his head and smile towards the owner: Mary Jean Scott. The woman was an intelligent one indeed. Had enlightened him to her "plan of attack". Make the outside look old and interesting, then, on the inside; it'd be polished, newer, livelier!
He had to admit, she excelled on both accounts.
So as he entered for the third time that week, sharp eyes scanning the gathered crowd while sliding from his custom made duster hanging it on the coat rack behind the bar. His ears twitched, a medium bell laughter ringing in his ear as he poured himself a cup of soda and helping Sam man the bar as others came in while Jean was off mingling with her favorite customers. He'd look around for her, but with the direction the sound came from, there were two walls blocking his sight.
As strange as it had been the first few times entering the place, it was natural now, liking the buildings layout. At first it had unnerved him the smallest bit that he could not observe the full room, only see partials of each side; the middle back being out of sight range, but not hearing. Now, it was second nature to rely on hearing more then sight. You could hear problems better then you could see most starting.
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~ * ~
'
From across the moderately sized bar slash kitchen area, gray eyes watched the younger man, a smile tilting his lips. It still tickled him pink each time he watched the youth walk around the bar - or jumped over it depending if Mary Jean was in eyesight - like he owned it to help out with the crowds. He still chuckled when anyone asked about the "new guy" and how he came to be with the four-person business.
How had he come indeed! Sam's gray eyes twinkled handing over a frosted root beer to a small redheaded child smiling kindly.
The Japanese boy - something he was still wondering if the young man was full blooded Japanese with his brown hair and stunning blue eyes - had come into the pool hall one day on the off chance of seeing just what it was. Had been coming in ever since. Sometimes to play pool, others just to sit and watch the others having a good time while once in a while, joining in on some of his and Mary Jean's conversations. Which, was always something, he didn't seem to talk much, but his voice was strong, yet soft at the same time… at others him and Mary Jean had to quiet down just to hear what was said… as if he wasn't used to all the sudden attention and was shy to talk about others he just met with some days ago. It hadn't bothered Sam much though; he liked that Asian man.
He still remembered, the one-day it all started being more then just coming in to enjoy the friendly home like atmosphere of the hall and morphed into a second job of sorts. It had been a dreary day, clouds rolling in from the west, a thunder storm had been brewing all week and seemed to decide the time was just right to let it's rain pour on all the waiting people milling about below it. The storm had been the cause for Ralph's not making it into work that night. It was Friday, their busiest night of the week besides Monday and Saturday. And they were a person short, leaving only he and Mary Jean to tend the bar.
It had been near six that - no, no that wasn't right… Sam frowned studying the soda spigots trying to recall the time. It wasn't six, more around eight thirty that evening, yes that was right, eight thirty that evening that the Asian man had stepped into the bar for his nightly visit and paused at the amount of people waiting around for a table or friends to show up. Sam remembered him arching a brow, stalking the bar for a chair to sit; he didn't much care for sitting off to the tables closer to the pool tables. Finding his chair he ordered up a Dr. Pepper and made jest of the slow service, giving Mary Jean a playful wink.
Now, Sam straightened up taking another man's order and money before handing over change then leaned back against the bar to watch the other man, Heero. He was all good and well for jokes and the like. Loved them personally. But that Mary Jean bad been fit to be tied with Ralph not making it into work that night, with the crowds like the were… she didn't need no jokin' fool to press her buttons that night. Heero, the poor lad, had been that unknowing fool, even if he was only trying to lighten the mood a little.
Mary Jean had leaned over the bar more, hazel-blues flashing, "If'n ye think ye can handle 'em betta then me laddie, ah'd like ta see ye try! Service ain't much tanite, damned ol' storm blew out Ralph's onla way ta get 'ere an we bein' one short. So ye think ye can 'elp out, git off tha fanny of yers and over 'ere!"
Now Sam knew his Mary Jean had been partially joking with the other as well, but she was every bit serious in her challenge. Heero, as Sam later came to find out, always took things seriously. More so when it was an indirect asking for help.
So what had the young pup done? He'd stood up, glanced at the two sitting beside him, nudged them a bit from his way and hopped over the bar to stand beside Mary Jean, over shooting her small form by few good inches, nearly a full heads height! Then, with another playing wink he started taking the first orders coming their way like he'd been at it for years! Taking their money, making proper change for the drinks or food and handed them back… He was a natural… Sam shook his shaggy haired head, a natural!
A thought crossed the gray-eyed man's mind causing him to grin. Chuckling he picked up a damp counter towel, called out to the other young man and threw it.
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~ * ~
'
"Heads up Young Pup!"
Coffee dark hair flew as its owner turned swiftly at his calling. He never quite fully understood why the Irish man, Sam, had insisted on calling him "Young Pup" instead of his name. Yet being as he as a sweet "Old Guy" - his revenge for being called "Young Pup" even if it was sort of an endearing name - that he was towards him, Heero couldn't bring himself to glare him into submission. Seeing the towel airborne for him he side stepped to catch it, turned once and threw it back a bit faster then it's original flight. Smirking as Sam quirked an amused brow at him.
Heero chuckled lowly handing a mug of beer to a tall ginger haired man shaking his head. It was hard to believe that a year had passed since he wondered into this place. The throng of customers had quieted down, their noise alive and loud as he let his eyes take in his surroundings.
Two sides of a coin. The saying fluttered through his mind at the pastel greens and darker forest green accents that made up the rooms main coloring. Each wall was a seeming dark shade of pastel green, a shade darker then the normal near aqua coloring. The walls trimming (which started three foot up from the floor) was forest green, below that was natural finished cedar paneling, covering every wall. Pictures of famous people - he guessed they were, since he wasn't Irish - scattered the walls along with some great western people he did know, John Wayne and other of him on "The Wild Goose", there were pictures from the long ago O-K Corral. There were pictures of Indians, western singers and even some pictures that looked to be of Jean and Sam's families.
On some walls there were shelves settled between the cue racks. Scattered among them were various articles, some figurines of Irish and Scottish people in their kilts, some in more traditional clothing. One he found particular interesting was of a young man looking nearly alike himself. Jean had assured him she didn't know the man, just like the way he looked when she was younger and had decided to buy the figurine.
Heero would be lying if he didn't say the small man replica had gotten him to thinking about digging into his own past… See where he'd come from… somewhere besides just knowing from the East, from his Japanese decent. But he had nowhere to start from. Blinking his eyes as if to clear the thoughts away his eyes scanned the crowd to make sure no one needed anything before letting them scan the rest of the room.
Large near life-size pictures of people he never knew, would never know, also colored the walls taking up space. On the north wall by the jukebox right in the middle had an English style ridding saddle tacked up. He never asked exactly *why* it was there… it just was. Like the overly large stars on the ceiling that one could see the nails used to station them in place; he later learned one late night, they glowed in the dark. Go figure. On another wall there were large four leaf clovers scattered through the pictures, scraps of plaid clothing; on another wall was a mans red and green plaid kilt complete with Clan signet clasp and thick black belt. His mind gave idle thought to it being hell getting that inside its custom picture frame.
The whole layout, back to what he now liked; was simple. The bar and mini kitchen was stationed direction in the middle, taking up a good deal of space but nothing compared to the overall size of the flooring. In front of the bar stood the entrance, to it's right about ten foot was the jukebox, to either side of the door were small round bar stool height tables placed here or there around the pool tables.
The bar acted like a natural barrier between the room's two sides. Directly behind the bar, behind the wall, was another slightly smaller room holding a few arcade games and two air hockey tables. Jean had told him in the beginning she was planning to have it enclosed, with just two open doorways going in and out to either side, but had decided instead to put up a waist high wall down the sides and back end, with a smaller two foot wall dropping down from the ceiling. Instead of leaving it open like that, she had added in carved rounded posts every foot or so, giving each 'wall' the look of a porch's railing. Instead of two open door ways, there were four… two at the front, two at the back.
Tsuki Doriimaa's Tengoku was a family pool hall.
It housed seventeen playing tables. Eight on each side of the bar and game room in two rows and one at the very back, between the end of the game room and the back wall where the restrooms were located. There were TV's in each of the four corners so one could watch sports that were playing. Though, they were always kept on mute or so low one had to strain to hear what was going on so that the jukebox had everyone's attention through the many stationed speakers throughout the room.
It was a nice place to be. Made one feel like they were at home all over again. That was… if one had a home as nice as this. Heero smirked. Of course if they were at home, they wouldn't be paying for their drinks or food either. He chuckled handing over another drink. His humor level had skyrocketed since joining Jean and Sam at the hall. Their off the wall bantering was contagious. The looks he would get at work for returning someone's off handed attempt at a joke towards him - something most of his colleagues were timid at trying since his straightforward attitude brooked no joking ease - were priceless.
"Ah dinna tell 'im that!!" Jean's voice floated to his ears, causing them to twitch once more with her laughter. "Nae! 'E did it 'imself! Aye! Look lass, ah know wha ah beh tellin' 'im… Aye, aye… SEE THERE!!!"
Smirking at the outburst and following laugh Heero stretched his neck muscles leaning over the bars edge to look towards the back where he could hear the light airy voice coming from. And wasn't surprised to find the fiery-brown haired lady standing leaning against the wall laughing at another young lady - younger then him - as she tried explaining something to Jean, getting her to smile brightly again before patting the girls shoulder motherly like and leaving her to walk to another table to see how it's patrons were doing.
Heero marveled at the woman across the room from him.
She was truly someone to look up to - fugitively of course, for him. She cared honestly about any and all that passed through her doors. All that is, except for the few "block heads" whom decided it a good place to pick a fight and wound up getting a motherly beating with the hard side of Jean's favored boom stick. And that's all it was too! It was a replacement broom stick with soft grip handle on one end, the other was darted with dents, scratches and chunks missing from beating people and things trying to dissolve the fights, or at least move them outside.
Jean would make a good mother, Heero knew, but for the life of him couldn't figure out how he knew.
He never experienced love before, never had a mother or real father. He had spent most of his childhood watching other kids with their families, wonder for a few split seconds what it would be like to have both a mother and a father… or just one or the other? Would he have turned out any differently then he had? Would he have more a grasp on his emotions then he did now? Maybe understand what confused him most of his days… Have someone he could go to and talk freely with… without the reserve of thinking he'd be judged or looked down upon? Not that he spent his time caring if others looked at him wrongly. He couldn't change that, and didn't try. Let others have misconceptions about him, about why he acted the way he did… It would only prove their undoing when later they were proved wrong.
Stormy sea eyes spent the majority of his time watching the brown-fire hair and hazel-blue eyed woman while he was at the hall not helping to serve drinks. A feeling in him he couldn't pin point… couldn't put a name to, always churned while about her, talking to her, watching her… It was an odd feeling, yet not one he disliked… It wasn't an uncomfortable one of any sort he'd felt before, so it didn't bother him that much. It just made him… watch her more… even care for her? Though he didn't know just what sort of caring, how much it was. It wasn't anything beyond friendly, as far as he knew. He wouldn't let it be. Jean and Sam were engaged to be married in a few short months and couldn't be any happier for the two of them.
No. It wasn't that sort of feeling. He liked her, yes. Admired and respected her… but in his jumbled thoughts, emotions, he knew it was above just friendship but lower then loving her… Or maybe it was loving her… just a different form? Maybe brotherly? He could see that. She was always teasing him, hugging him, giving small chaste kisses to his cheek. Heero knew if he'd grown up differently, lived with someone that actually loved him… If he knew what love *was*, felt like, then he might be able to tell *what* he felt for the Irish-Scottish woman. But, he was content to how things were and intended not to meddle his emotional baggage up anymore then it already was.
"Hero! 'Ero, 'Ero, 'Ero!!"
Lowering his head into both palms the Japanese boy shook his head helplessly while Sam laughed leaning against the bar watching him.
Jean could never say his name correctly thanks to her heavy accent. He had only ever heard his name come out of her mouth correctly once. That was when she was pissed beyond belief and he personally did not want to see her that way again. Now, every time she said his name it was plain "Hero" or, on occasion and overly excited, like now for instance, it was "'Ero", the 'h' gone completely silently in light of her accent which most words starting with 'h' seemed to do anyways, unless she put conscious effort into saying it correctly.
Strangely, for him, it didn't matter how she said his name. He always knew she was speaking of him. And the way in which she said it was… warm. A welcomed sound he looked forward to at the end of every day. No one else had ever spoken his name with the amount of warm emotion like she did. He liked it, liked it a lot.
Still… smirking in to his palms he wonder how long it would be before Jean's small hands tried pulling them away from his face. Did she always have to yell across the rooms at him like that? Anyone else would most likely *not* burry their head in their hands at the yelling - After all it was a sure dead give away to whom she was speaking… On the other hand though, he'd tried just ignoring her the first few times and was always whapped up side the head for it.
So Heero found burying his head in hands wasn't the best way to avoid her either… though it sure was funnier! Something he seriously lacked in his life and only found here.
"'Ero! 'Ero stop hidin' from meh boy! Ye know tha donna work annae ways!" Reaching up small hands grasped tanned wrists tugging, "Come on now! Let meh see them beautiful eye of yers! Come on now 'Ero lad open up!" tugging harder Jean threw a look stuck between a smirk and a grin towards her Irish-love, then looked back at the untamed haired boy. "'Ero" voice warning "donna make meh r'sort ta violence now… ye know ah donna care for it."
Blinking into his hands Heero was hard pressed not to laugh aloud.
'Violence.' The word alone made him smirk. The petite Irish woman didn't have a violent bone in her body! Thought striking him he split two fingers apart looking down at the woman before him, who smirked wickedly back at him. And then he understood.
She didn't mean 'violence'… She meant *Violence*. Her Violence.
Defeated, he lowered his hands lightly glaring at the damnedable woman. He would not, could not, stand up to *her* form of violence. Let alone would be *willingly* be submitted to it. He'd be damned before anyone else - who hadn't seen the previous 'violent attack' on him - knew where his most ticklish spots were. Hell! He didn't even *know* he was ticklish until she attacked him on night after his teasing her!
No thank you, he was *not* going through that again. He could stand up to a hornet stabbed mob, beat them into order in just under an hour, but damned if he'd be tickled in public with people he didn't (wholly) know watching once more.
"Jean…"
Smiling up at the tall boy innocently, said lady dropped her arms leisurely, "Aye lad?"
"That look doesn't suit you." Your not that innocent, he mentally grinned, keeping a straight face on the outside.
"Ye donna think so? Ah donno, ah beh thinkin' it does. Dun it Sam-love? Ah beh as innocent as always eh?" turning to look at the gray eyed, red headed man Jean smiled wiggling her brows drawing more laughter and a single nod from her love. "See" looking up at her Japanese friend she smiled, "I'm innocent."
"Hn."
"Ah know, ah know" sighing dramatically as she turned at another beckoning, filling a soda glass she leaned back mimicking Sam's stance, "Ye donna believe one damned word comin' from meh mouth 'cause ye've all done 'eard it before… Ah know… ah've 'eard it before also…"
"That bein' and she doesn't know she just said it again!" Sam's voice piped up with his Irish accent thrown into the brawl of voices, yet his wasn't as heavy as Jean's, a sign that somewhere down his linage, one of the family was not Irish or Scottish as Jean's pure blooded were.
"Damnit Sam, canna keep yer trap closed can ye? Just 'ad ta go an' tell tha lad- oh! Never ye mind meh lads!" a light dusty rose color tinted her already rosy cheeks as she refilled Heero's cup for something to do while getting her blush under control. Sticking her foot in her mouth wasn't her forte, but she found herself doing it all the time when the two of them boys got together. Sad part was, she thought, it wasn't a conscious effort for the two of them to achieve her foot-the-mouth-statements.
Feeling heat leaving her cheeks a nice lightly flushed color Jean turned back to her boys handing Heero's cup to him. "Ye know… ye've got nae life 'Ero." Starting slowly wondering where the bloody hell that line came from she shrugged at his arched brow, "Well it's true! Where ye go besides 'ere?"
Shrug.
"Aye, see there! Ah'm not wrong!"
"Nae" gray eyes twinkled while their owner walked over retrieving a small red basket to fill an order of nachos, "Ye never wrong are ya Love?"
Smacking Sam's backside huffing Jean mock glared at the thrice damned, loveable man, "Dinna ah ask ye ta keep tha' trap shut?" not waiting for a response he was posed to give, she knew she didn't ask him, she looked back over at Heero who had moved to fill another's drink order. "Why dun ye ever go out Hero? Ye spend all yer time 'ere with us-"
"Not that we don't rightly appreciate it!" Sam cut in quickly.
Fiery-brown hair swayed as Jean nodded her agreement, "Aye, truest words ah've 'eard yet! But 'Ero… dinna ye 'ave friends?"
Blinking, sea swirling eyes wondered why she was asking, now of all times. It was true he couldn't deny it. But why did she worry over him? He wasn't worth the effort or care. Wasn't used to the attention, the feelings her caring drug up in him. Even after a year of it. His guardian didn't do for him half the things these people tried to achieve, to give to him… It confused him… why they did these things. No one ever cared before… Why now?
"Why?" he asked suddenly staring at the floor. The one question rolling around in his head as if some lone player kept practicing hockey with a single puck, never failing to keep hitting it around his head as the playing field. It wasn't that he did not appreciate the things they did, the care they gave… Heero just didn't think he was worth it. A lifetime of no one caring is hard barrier to break after only a year of caring. No matter how much.
"Eh?" came Sam's intelligent reply.
Why? Why not? He was a wonderful kid to be around. Nice, polite, honest, hard working, funny once you got to know him. Lonely. Oh he'd never admit it, both him and Mary Jean knew that much. No, the Young Pup would never tell a single soul that his was yarning for something… reaching out for something to grasp onto. They - him and Mary Jean, had come to their own conclusions as to how his past might've been like. And it wasn't pretty. They knew, from his talks, he didn't have family. Nae, he never spoke it, but he avoided when asked. Sure signs that either it was truth, no family, or it was a hellish world to live in.
Either way it went didn't cloud over the fact that they each had come to know the boy, like and think of him like one of their own. Bless Mary Jean's little heart, Sam shot her a look before tending to the bar's patrons once more; she'd come to love that boy like her own blood, like a child she hopped to have but never could. She did everything within her own she could for him. Small things, things that to other people wouldn't matter that much; but to him, to Heero they knew, meant the world.
Asking how his day was. Seeing if he needed anything, no matter what. Mary Jean giving him back rubs, massaging his shoulders after an extenuating day at work… things on the house at the Hall… Small things. Thing any loving family or friend would do for another. Things that Sam and his darling girl had known from nearly first setting eyes on the wild haired boy that he'd never had. Eyes were the windows to the soul, so every one knew and said. Heero's eyes, the brightest midnight blue, were full of loneliness and sorrow. They knew the cause for such an ingrained look on the young face after talking to him a while.
It was saddening, Jean thought watching her boy hand over another drink with the woman's change. She loved the messy haired wild-eyed Japanese boy. It was something that needed to be rectified, now. No one should go though life wondering why another showed concern for them, helped them, nursed them while ill… No, this was something she needed to handle before he doubted himself even more, scarring such thoughts into his mind and hindering him from ever finding someone to spend his life with.
An' 'ow would 'e know? Ah'd like ta beh told! Jean thought observing her lover talking with the taller boy. 'E dunna talk much at all, 'es hard ta open up ta annae one. 'E dinna get cared for as a wee strappling. An 'e sure woulna know love if it bit 'im in tha aurse! Shaking her head amused at the running thought and truth behind it Jean picked up the side phone calling into the back office for Kara to come up front and help Sam while she wondered up stairs for a minute.
"I'm here!" a chipper voice called out happily slipping in between the other three. "Hey Heero!"
"Hn" still lost in a twister of thoughts he only grunted in response. He needn't worry, Kara knew him nearly as well as the owners and took no offence to his non-comment moments.
"Sam-love, we'll beh back shorla! Ah've got meh some skull crackin' ta beh seein' ta!" with that and an iron like hold on a muscled arm, Jean tugged the minute startled young man towards the back and up the short flight of stairs to their apartment.
Heero ignored his surroundings of lavish blues and greens as he was led and pushed into large open area where one could take in the bedroom, kitchen and living room all in one swipe; the only thing sectioning them off if it was so desired were Japanese paper screens. All the things, trinkets his eyes saw mind ignored in light of his current turmoil.
"Why?" asking again looking up from his gently shoved position on the star splashed black bed coverings, gazing at the smaller woman in confused wonder while she zipped around grabbing two cups and some packets. She spent a few moments at the stove humming, before returning to his side, sitting on the bed with one leg folded underneath her, body twisted slightly to face him as she handed him his cup of green tea.
"Hero" beginning softly staring at her cup a few seconds Jean looked deep into his eyes, searching. "'Ave ye realla not known why we treat ye like we do lad?"
"No." was his immediate answer. He'd thought of it, dreamt of the reason even, but could not come up with a single one his mind would allow him to believe. His experience in life forced him to recognize that one did not do something without gaining another from it. Thus he tended to be the 'lone wolf', doing things himself so he avoided being in those types of situations. But with them, with Sam and Jean it was different. They did things for him and expected nothings, absolutly nothing in return.
"Aww 'Ero lad… 'Ow can ye not know tha reason we beh actin' 'ow we do 'round ye?"
He hesitated, dropping her locked gaze to look within his cup, as if it held the answers to his questions when in fact he knew the woman sitting beside him did. It was hard though, to talk openly about things… to speak of what he didn't know, couldn't wrap his mind around… it was a weakness… One he did not wish to share, even if… even if he knew instinctively that whatever may be said in this room, *stayed* in this room… even if being around the couple for a year proved such thoughts as the hard truth.
Jean was patient though. Sitting there, watching him as she sipped from her cup, waiting for him to collect his wording enough to speak. It was difficult; she understood, for someone like him to put his emotions, fears, thoughts no one would ever know, into words. So she waited 'til he was ready… Neither were leaving her home until this was settled and he understood more why they did what they did.
"I…" starting and halting Heero tightened his hold on the steaming mug, "I don't…" growling at himself for his inability to say what should be so simple he looked up sharply, "I can't figure out why…" his eyes glimmered confusion, "Why?"
Smiling warmly, Jean nodded mentally reasserting that she was in the presence of a very strong man. A man who could admit his weakness, his failing capability to grasp what he didn't understand; it took a strong person to admit these faults.
"Hero-pup" she said slowly, trying to get his name right again. She nearly grinned as his eyes narrowed at the 'pup' addition. It was cute really, they sort of crinkled in the corners she noticed and shook her head. "Ye dinna 'ave annae one ta love ye, 'ave ye lad?" she didn't wait for an answer. She knew; the look in his eyes screamed it. "We do wha we do out of love darlin' dear. We love ye 'Ero."
He blinked, not comprehending her simple answer. They loved him? Why? Why did they love him? He never did anything. If it was pity, he didn't want that! Yet, he knew… Again he knew they would not do something out of pure pity, it wasn't who they were; they weren't that type… Then why… Stars above why did they care for him? He wasn't worth it… he wasn't…
As his head started to lower from her piercing hazel-blue orbs he noticed the faultless warmth in them, an emotion he could never place before. Was that what love looked like in someone's eyes? A sparkle of light unlike that of a rooms lighting or simple shimmering of colors… Was that something that came from their hearts, their souls? Heero wasn't sure, but had seen the look before, many times, in Jean and Sam's eyes… inner warmth directed at him.
He'd never seen that look in anyone else's eyes before directed at him. His eyes fell back to his cup.
"'Ero-love…" reaching out slowly, carefully with tender fingers Jean lifted the fallen chin upwards, running her thumb calmly over his cheek when their eyes met. "'Ero, ah know wha ye beh thinkin' lad" his eyes squinted the tiniest bit, "Ye dun 'ave ta know why we do it. Ye dun 'ave ta beh 'worthy' of it… Ye judge to harshly yer self worth darlin'." Shaking her head softly she raised her hand running fingers through is hair before bringing it back to her side, sipping from her cup.
"'Ero-pup, love donna matter who it's given ta… it donna care wha tha person think of 'imself… it just *is*." That wasn't quite what she meant to say, but it was hard trying to find the right words… Heero wasn't the only one possessing problem of word control. "It… Ye dinna 'ave ta do annae thin' for us ta love ya hun… We just do… Ye grew onta us ye know? Ye've got charm about ye, ye dinna even know Young Pup."
"Not you too…" muttering at the name once more he still wanted to know why. "If…" How did he say it? On the tip of his tongue refusing to come forth to be spoken… He really, really hated not having grown into a more talkative person… yet that was his upbringing, nothing could change that… "If that's true…" he paused giving a slight nod, keeping her eyes locked with his, "…what you said… Then why? What-… I need to know!"
It broke her heart, a tiny piece at the sadness in his voice, the confusion so clear like crystal. He truly had no idea. Nothing in his life to prepare him for someone else's love… he himself didn't even know he was capable of it.
Setting her cup aside, taking his from the strong grip and placing it with hers she boldly leaned over pulling him backwards into her lap hugging him. She felt him go stiff as a board, lifting one arm to run a soothing hand through his hair to calm him she waited until a sigh escaped his lips, before going on.
"Love's som'thin ta give freela deary, it's strong, ye've got ta be careful who ye give it ta… it can come back ta 'urt ye… But it's worth it… when it all works out." hushing him by placing a hand on his cheek she said, "Love's a give an take, a chance an win sort of ride… Ye've got ta take a chance an see wha's out t'ere if its someone ye like." Giggling to herself she nudged his shoulder gently, "Look at ol' Sam an meh! We took chances, and won…" ohh Mother above slap her please! She wasn't cut out for this explaining stuff… However she wasn't letting him leave until he understood, "'Ero?"
"Hn."
"Do ye see… if'n just a wee bit? M'sorra love, ah'm not good at explainin' this sort of thin'… but ah beh damned if'n ah let ye out of 'ere not understandin' a wee bit of it!"
Snorting at her explaining of this 'love' to him, Heero gave a small nod, feeling his hair tickle her face. He could understand… a 'wee bit' of it… maybe. So love was something that one gave to another… if you liked them? But wonder if it was just a little bit of liking them? Then did you give them a little love or did that just mean you liked them enough to call them your friend? Was there a difference?
"How… how do you know?" he rested his head on her small shoulder, "The difference?"
"Tha deferance?" giving that some thought her hand moved to play in his baby fine hair again, wondering how it could look so damned wild and yet feel as soft as deer's fir? "Ah! Ah see wha ye mean… Deferance… Well" she went into *trying* to explain to him how to tell when he met someone they became friends - of course he had some so he wasn't stupid there - but she went on to tell of how he might know if their more then that. A very tricky task indeed, there should be a manual out for this sort of thing!
"Hn."
"Do ye understand… or did ah just scramble ye noggin' up?" giving a few taps to his hard head for example.
Catching her wrist he smirked, though she couldn't see it, and nodded, "Hai… demo naze?" slipping into his native tongue he shook his head, "Why me? Why love me?"
"Aw tha's an e'sa question!" smiling she hugged him tighter, "Ye just loveable!!" giggling at his growl she popped his head one. "Honestla 'Ero, ye are and dinna even know it! Tha thin's ye do 'ere at the Hall… tha jokes ye try crackin'… Ye gettin'' betta ya know?" he grunted, it even sounded light to her ears as if humored. "Ye do thin's ye dun 'ave ta 'cause ye care for us… Tha means a lot 'Ero… a lot ta us…"
Heero tipped his head to the side, trying to see her face and asked, "Like what?" in mild curiosity.
"Ohh lets see 'ere… 'Ow 'bout when ye act like a scolded sad pup when ah turn a mean look on ye?" chuckling at his sudden stiffening and loosening of his shoulders, "Dinna think ah noticed it did ye? heh Silly lad, of course ah noticed! Ye tried ta 'elp meh bring meh temper down before ah dun went an did som'thin stupid… Thank ye laddie… ye such a kind lovin' boy, an tha sad thin' is ye donna know it… Ye dun see wha ye do evera day… but we do…" Trailing off in thought she stared at the quiet boy in her arms, giving wonder to how long they had been up there.
"We love ye, and ye love us" she popped his forearm that had snuck up covering her own while her quiet voice soothed over his frayed nerves, cutting off his rejection. "Ye know it's true or ye woulna do half tha thin's ye do for us! We love ye 'cause yer tha first ta come in an get ta know us, care for us… Ye donno 'ow much that means 'Ero-love…" her voice cracked a little, "…'ow much…" hugging him tighter fighting to get her voice back under control she laughed a little at his questioning eyes blinking up at her, studying her. "Ah'm fine love… just a little… chocked up… Gods above we love ye 'Ero-pup, ye need ta know tha…"
Slowly he nodded…
Pulling back from him she jabbed his ribs until he turned to face her fully. "We. Love. Ye." punctuating each word, drilling it into his mind she smiled, eyes strong and serious. "If'n ever… ever… ye need some place ta go… someone ta talk ta… Come 'ere, a'right? 'Ere. We'll always be 'ere for ye… Just rememba that… There's always someone tha loves ye."
"Aye." A new voice joined them, causing them to jump a little in the pin drop quietness. Just how long had he been there? they wondered. "Jean and ah do love ye. Yer a sweet kid, ye help out when ye donna realla have ta… Ye jab and jer with the best of us…" Sam shook his head walking to stand before them both, eyes just as warm and sparkling as Jean's had been all night. "It's som'thin that's hard ta explain, ah know, but ye've just got ta take our word for it. We do love ye, very much, like ye were one of our famila… and we'd do anything ta help ye out, like ye've done for us. Anythin'."
Stunned, the Japanese young man blinked, nodded, and continued to try processing everything that was being told to him this night. It was certainly the most interesting and informative night of his life. As he looked back, flipped through his memory files of the times spent at Tsuki Doriimaa's Tengoku. He recalled all the warm looks they gave him, tried remembering all the confusing emotions those looks brought up inside of him… and he… he understood… a little of what those feelings had been… are…
Standing to her feet Jean leaned over giving her love a kiss and bright smile before turning back to the boy on the bed, watching them with shining eyes… eyes of someone finding out the truth, both given and self. Smiling her brightest holding out her hand towards him, silently beckoning him to her. As he took that hand, Jean's smile seemed to light up more, though Heero wasn't sure how that was possible, as bright as it already was… Then it hit him. It hadn't brightened. It got warmer. It shocked him so, that he didn't notice the embrace she had pulled him into, and that Sam had rounded on them pulling both into his arms.
Group hug, his mind noted. He chuckled.
"Good ta see yer back in spirits boy!" winking Jean pecked both her boys on the cheeks before starting for the stairs calling over her shoulder, "Come on ye slow hound dogs! We've work ta beh doin'!"
Two pairs of eyes blinked, glanced at one another and blinked again.
"Is she always like this ye think? Canna we beh gettin' any rest 'round here?"
Heero, feeling a bit lighter (he thought) from his nagging questions having been more or less answered, some feeling felt out and labeled… decided it was time to return to the norm. Talking with someone, without fear of being ridiculed or looked down upon was nice, he decided… but that conversation was… mushy. heh Snorting mentally he wondered where he had picked that word up but decided he did fit what Jean just tried her damnedest to explain to get through to him… He wasn't used to such talks, but… now… now he could get back to something he was used to. Like teasing for example.
"I'm not sure." He used his normal monotone and kept a straight face while watching Sam, "But I do know it could only get worse… and your engaged to her." With that and a suppressed snort of laughter he left the other man standing in his living room, mouth agape.
.
~ * @ * ~
'
Wednesday night, six o'clock was the time on the wall as Heero entered Jean's a day later. Music thumping with a saucy tune, people milling around, eyeing pool tables trying to line up shots and score wins. Grinning a little (a look Jean told him was wolfishly handsome) walking over to hang his coat up in the back office with Kara he threw her a quiet "Hello" before heading back to the front, slipping behind the bar quietly.
Jean was present, working on two orders of nachos and one small pizza. His grin widened a bit waiting for her hands to be freed. He wasn't sure where Sam was, probably upstairs straightening things out or perhaps he wasn't feeling well? He hopped that wasn't the case, if so though, he'd have to run up and take a look at the older man. After all, he did have medical experience, he could help out a little more if he were.
Sneaking, making light steps behind the brown head of fire Heero watched as the last plate left small hands before he walked right up behind the woman making a quiet motion with his finger to lips as someone noticed him. Then, without warning for the poor woman he brought his hands up attacking her sides. Heero Yuy was not the only one ticklish.
"WHA THA!?" startled snort turned laughter as able hands attacked her sides without show of easing up, "Who t-tha…" twisting about, or rather, *trying* to twist about, Jean caught the tail ends of dark coffee hair. "ERO!!" gasping for breath, shoulders shaking helplessly, "ERO-PUP STOP! PLAES!"
"Well…" muttering humored under his breath, hands dropping, "since you said please."
Thankful to breath again she turned taking a few breaths before lunging forward attacking the young man's soft spots sending him into short rounds of rich laughter which, she noted with great mirth, drew quite the many looks to him. "Ye think ye can strike on tha masta? Ah donna beh thinkin' so!"
Smirking, her hands moving over strong rib sides Jean spent a few scant seconds more attacking his ticklish areas before stepping back, a self-satisfied smile on her rosy lips. It grew drastically as her eyes locked with smiling midnight-blues. Her hopes and prayers nights before had been answered! She mentally cheered walking up to hug the taller boy whose eyes shone with a new warmth and merry twinkle when he looked at her. Her talk had indeed sunk into his thick skull and seemed to make sense to him, or at least a little to where he understood more what he was feeling.
"How ye doin' Hero-love? Was work al'ight?" she stepped back, letting him take the new order someone flagging them down for.
"Hai. It was about the same." Which would include being boring, over amounts of paper work, noisy people that would not be quieted if a tsunami came rolling through and shitty coffee. Rather then that, it was a normal day.
Giggling Jean set about fixing a cup of her special brew for the Asian man, "'Ere ye go Hero. This beh wha ye need lad, an at least tha crowds 'ere are meant ta beh loud, eh?" patting his back motherly like Jean walked into the crowded room heading up the back stairs leaving Heero to man the bar himself. He was an able boy after all, a "natural" as her Sam was fond of saying.
"Heero! Ah beh hearin' ye laughin' down here!" Sam's joyfully light voice called out over the hall's loud mess of sounds; Heero shook his head, small smile lighting his face anew. "Ah! So I see meh love here wasn't lyin'!" Oh she'd never lie to him, he knew this, but teasing was just too much fun!
"Ah'll give ye som'thin ta beh sorra 'bout if'n ye donna watch it Sweet Eyes!" chuckling at them both Heero sat back against the bar watching. "An ye!" Jean turned on her blue-eyed devil, "Ye need ta laugh more often!" It was a loved order and she knew he knew it, "Ah've got someone ah want ye ta meet-" suddenly pausing tilting her head to the side a wide smile lit her face as a song started blaring over the speakers.
.
~*~ @ ~*~
If you're coming with me you need nerves of steel
Cause I take corners on two wheels
~*~ @ ~*~ @ ~*~
'
"…an 'E just showed up too! 'Es got great timin' le'meh tell ye! Come on 'Ero!" small hands grasped a muscled arm as the small Irish-Scott led the Japanese boy off around the corner, Sam's quiet chuckles following them from the bar.
Having no choice but to follow his lively friend Heero let himself be pulled about the Hall and towards the back where loud laughter caught his ear, causing it to twitch locking in on the source… the source they seemed to be heading to.
"DAMNIT! GET OFF THE TABLE!"
"Aww chill Tro, not like your slim ass does sit on it to shoot!"
There was a growl, a smirk in the voice he could as they drew nearer, "Maybe, but at least I sit on it to *shoot!* Not sitting on it when someone *else* is trying to shoot!"
"Hey! Hey!" rounding the corner Heero stopped in time to miss hitting Jean in the back as she quit walking to watch the scene unfolding before them. There was a brown chestnut haired boy with a mid thigh length braid snaking down his back to curl up on the tables top where he was perched. Another boy, near five inches taller then Heero stood on the opposite end poking the braided on in his behind with his cue. "No pokin' the ass unless you're implyin' something! Even then no pokin'!"
Heero didn't know he was capable of blushing.
"Then get off the damned table!" sighed the taller teen of auburn that covered one half his face leaving a single stunning green eye watching his friend. He appeared to be French… though Heero wasn't sure, maybe European? "Gods your such a waltzing walking pain in the ass!"
"No." the braided boy - American his mind noted, hopped from the table landing in a small bow, violet eyes (violet!?) twinkling as he grinned cheekily replying, "I'm a "waltzing walking" Smart Ass!" before moving off to the small table on the side laughing.
'
~*~ @ ~*~
It's a never-ending circus ride
The faint of heart need not apply
~*~ @ ~*~ @ ~*~
'
"You have got to be kidding me…"
Grinning Jean grabbed her adoptive (if only in heart) Japanese son's shirt collar dragging him over to the two bickering boy smiling pleasantly. "Duo lad! Ah've brot ye another one ta play against!" Would have said that differently she would, but she hadn't wanted to scare off her Asian boy like that. He was hard enough opening up to people on his own… She needn't say something that would provoke the attitude her American friend was in to cause her timid person boy to run from him.
"Yo J-babe! What's kickin' girfriend!?" It never failed to draw a nice cherry blush from the woman, as it had now, which was why he greeted her in the manner every time. Her new friend though… Head turning slightly violet eyes regarded the tall boy at her side.
He was Japanese that much was certain. However… how a Japanese came across brown hair and stunningly bright cobalt eyes was beyond him. He didn't judge people, wasn't his way so it didn't matter none, just one of them questions that bugged ya 'til eventually you answered it. He held an athletic build, strong broad shoulders tapering down to a slim waist into long lean legs. His shirtsleeve revealed arms, which were muscled but not overly so; they were lean muscles where you saw the slight bulge of them under skin, but it wasn't unsightly. Duo held no doubt had the boy been wearing shorts his legs would mimic the muscled look.
His hands (something he had always been attracted to) were bit big, long slim fingers like a pianists stemming from them; they were slightly callused so the young man did something besides working out. His face was softly chiseled like a masterpiece of marble come to life, all soft pointed curves and smooth skin. He had a small slight upturned nose, eyes of blazing cobalt hidden behind the most disobedient, wild bangs he had ever seen before! But by the Gods he was a beautiful. Must be a curse, he grinned, forever to be surrounded by handsome people! Ah such was his life!
"Hiya!" walking forward extending his hand with a friendly smile sensing the others unease of meeting new people; that was right by him, he'd been shocked if this young handsome thing in front of him accepted him with a welcoming look. "I'm Duo! Duo Maxwell!"
Hesitating, Heero looked the other over and found no flaw. Was he even looking for one? The boy held the most amazing violet eyes he had never seen before. He didn't even know people could have eye colors like that aside from contacts. Unruly bangs hung into those violet orbs, the rest of his ungodly long hair pulled back into a braid that did indeed, reach mid thigh and looked as soft as silk. His skin was a fine pale peach; the skin of someone that spent much time in the sun but had to fight tooth and nail to get even the slightest tan, whereas he himself was darkly tanned but not overly so from practicing his arts out in his back yard.
Duo was tall, three or so inches taller then his Asian ancestry let him be. His boy was compact, lithe, one that hid the strength it was capable of exposing. If Heero had to bet on this young man and another of the Hall's patrons duking it out, he would bet on the one standing in front of him. Something in him said his soft friendly looks disguised a hidden fighter within, one, which might even be capable of sparring with him longer then twenty minutes. Finally, his analysis over with, Heero stretched out his tanned hand grasping the lighter one. His mind mulled over the color difference (though not a great one) before a sharp stab in his ribs had him glaring down at the small woman at his side and letting go of the others hand.
"Yuy" he nodded bowing slightly, "Heero Yuy."
Beaming and giving a quick jerky bow back Duo smiled brightly, "Pleasure ta meetcha Heero!"
"This 'eres our pride an joy Duo-lad, ye betta treat 'im nicely or ah'lls take back tha free drinks!" It was only sodas, St. Patrick strike her down for teasing to draw away his Dr. Pepper! But Heavens the shocked hurt look he gave her! Hanging on the table's side like someone done shot his heart out! "A'ight laddie ye needn't git all th'atr'cal on meh now!" smiling she turned towards her boy leaning on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek and pat his arm, "Now ye play nice 'Ero! Donna make meh come back 'ere ta beat ye both!" with that and a wink Jean about-faced practically skipping back to the bar. Only to return scant minutes later with Heero's own favored drink and disappearing again.
"'Our pride an joy?'" Duo quirked a brow quoting.
Shrugging, an illusive smirk forming, "I'm adopted," Heero commented mentally snorting at the meaning of those two small words.
'
~*~ @ ~*~
Mi vida loca over and over
Destiny turns on a dime
~*~ @ ~*~ @ ~*~
'
"Ah, I see" when truth he didn't, but hey, he wasn't going to dive into personal stuff like that. 'Sides, he knew how "Mama Jean" was on taking certain people under her motherly wing. He just figured that Heero was her new charge. A new charge that she wanted him to be nice to and most likely, draw him out into the world of the living more then what he's been living in so far. Which, as Duo tilted his head to look closer, noticed it was more recently then it had his life before finding Tsuki Doriimaa's Tengoku… heh so many come in this place finding new life within them.
This however was not the first person that his "J-babe" had pushed his way and wanted some sort of help or just to be a friend to. Take his other quiet friend for instance… oh yeah; he hadn't introduced the two yet! "Hey Heero!" stepping up to him, slowly raising a hand so the other had time to back away or decline it, Duo placed it on Heero's shoulder lightly pushing him towards the other side of the table, "Meet Trowa Barton! Tro-man meet Heero Yuy!" There, all nicely met up!
"I have ears Duo." Trowa smirked extending a hand for the other to shake, "Nice to meet you Heero. Please, don't mind Duo, he can be a bit eccentric at times."
"WHAT!?"
Smirking, nodding towards the taller youth and his playful jab at the other Heero let a small chuckle pass his lips, "It's in his eyes anyhow. Probably born with it."
Trowa snorted tossing over his pool cue going to pick out a new one. He liked this guy. "So… new game?"
"Yeah, Quiets vs. Eccentric," muttered Duo sounding put out. It might have worked… if not had he been grinning when saying it.
Looking at one another the two on the right nodded, "Alright" That sounded find to their ears. Duo, realizing what he'd just did sighed, "Unholy Hell I'm gonna loose again!" on his way to pick another cue since he and Trowa had been sharing.
'
~*~ @ ~*~
I go where the wind blows
You can't tame a wild rose
Welcome to my crazy life
~*~ @ ~*~ @ ~*~
.
"That ain't fair! No." shaking his head, braid flying, "No way man, that shit don't fly!"
"No it didn't. I believe they call it "rolling"."
"Look don't get smart with me!" Smirking Duo wagged a finger in the others face then pointed to the table, "There's no rule in Hell that says one guy can shoot the other guy moves the ball!"
"Duo" Trowa stepped up root beer in hand tipping the bottle at the braided boy, "As far as I knew, Hell wasn't playing this game and he didn't move the ball. It "rolled" into hole when he got off the table."
"Yeah!" the younger agreed, "That's 'cause his fat ass was sitting on the other balls!" That didn't sound right he snickered.
Heero for his part looked hurt, "Fat ass?" even made show of turning to try peering at his slim behind then to the one that spoke, "It's fat?" arching a brow.
Laughing Trowa knew there wasn't a way out of it for the American teen.
"Well…" he didn't lie, wasn't going to make a start of it now, but… He just couldn't - didn't know if he should fess up that he had, in fact, been watching the others ass when he leaned over to shoot. That he had a wonderful view of his muscled thighs after hopping up to sit on the table for a back shot. So the unavoidable question was… Did he or did he not, tell his new friend… a friend of going on three hours mind you, that he has been well watched?
Eventually he couldn't put off not answering any long and flushed a striking red from cheek to neck, his head dipping ever so much while looking sidelong at the jukebox, "Well… no, it's uh… mighty nice…" giving a fake cough he left to get another soda leaving the two semi-quiet men behind him just laughing it up.
Heero was watching Duo's swinging braid as he walked off in something of a state of shock, his shoulders shaking lightly with quieted chuckles; even he couldn't miss the humor in the events.
He hadn't however, had much practice in "playing around" with others, nor having others complimenting him in such ways. Almost… what was that word used nowadays? "Hitting" on him? Yes, he nodded silently to himself. It seemed Duo was trying to hit on him, or flirt in someway… Not too sure how to take that but in stride, Heero didn't say anything about it. He was however, put to some ease with Trowa's calming comment about the American's oath never to lie. So while Heero may not have been sure how to return the gracious comment, if at all, he was put to rest that Duo meant what he said… Even if it caused his new Japanese friend to feel slightly confused and charged from it.
Some minutes later shaking his head Heero grabbed the empty bottles around them heading up to the bar. Walking up behind it to the large trash can there he threw in the old bottles listening to them clang against others. Glancing over his shoulder locking stormy seas with violet orbs, a smug smirk crossed his lips at Duo's amazingly curious expression, most likely due to his being *behind* the bar and grabbing three new bottles before leaving without a word.
Watching the Asian youth walk towards the bar Duo groaned. Great, he was going to get the shit beat out of him and not be able to hold the other off 'cause of his stupid (though honest!) comment on his ass. And what a fine ass it is! His mind crowed grinning while he hung his head a little more keeping the wild haired man in his sights. When Heero entered behind the bar chunking away their old bottles and grabbing new ones he hopped that his surprise didn't show much on his face. What was Heero doing? How come he was able to waltz back there and grab what he wanted to leave without raising a brow from Sam or J-babe? Was he *that* much under Jean's wing? He wanted to sign up!
Alas before he could open his preverbal "loud mouth" the other had walked away with new drinks and the smuggest looking smirk Duo was sure had ever graced those chiseled features. Finding that he wasn't in fact going to get the shit beat out of him, much less that Heero looked like he didn't care what was said - which was a wonderful thing! - Duo stood from his stool to follow catching up and making endless chatter, bantering back and forth between his friend before Heero had mentioned some hour later that he needed to go, had a long day ahead of him tomorrow.
Duo and Trowa bid him a farewell with promise to meet him there tomorrow after work. With that and a wave, Heero was gone. Back in the bar behind him, Duo still talking up a storm to his French companion was suddenly interrupted by a quiet, "I remember that name…" from Trowa.
"Huh?"
"I know that name from somewhere… Yuy… I wonder though…" but Duo had shrugged him off anxious to get another game in before leaving himself. He started a new job in two days; he needed to get his things in order before going.
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~*~ @ ~*~
Sweetheart before this night is through
I could fall in love with you
~*~ @ ~*~ @ ~*~
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* Tsuki Doriimaa's Tengoku = Moon Dreamer's Heaven
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^_^ 2nd and final part coming soon! ^_^ Please review and let me know whatcha think thus far!
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Arigatou! ~ AR
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