Disclaimer: Usual applies.
Ch18, Part II
Even he had to admit this duty was beneath him.
Not that he could blame anyone - maybe just the supervisors, but putting blame on anyone was nothing more than owning up to one's own irresponsibility in silence - since cutbacks had pulled the rug from under everyone, anyway. And this did not really get in the way of his work: technically, the hours were more, but he got it done within its former timeframe, the way he had on Earth. It just meant more paperwork per individual.
And there were three there, with him. They were ensnared in a duty usually reserved for police of middle rank. But, due to those aforementioned budget cuts, the police hadn't the resources to fund interspacial duty watch, or the act of floating about in hopes of catching someone illegally transporting goods of any value, etc. It would have fallen to someone else, some other department of law enforcement in space, but the entire system was yet so scrambled that Earth had needed to come to help. Almost as some sort of snide insult, the chore was now with the Preventers who saw it as a necessary nuisance needing the active participation of, well, everyone. Bottom line, if one Preventer agent was to suffer of this, all would.
The duty was remarkably boring. Space had its own beauty, a universal kind anyone could respond to, but after three weeks of floating about in it like a vegetable in broth, he lusted after Earth with all its flaws. He wanted humidity (not the slightly stale, very dry air circulating through the small spacecraft), he wanted natural noises (not the clicking of the surrounding equipment and hi-radar), he wanted food that did not come out of a tube. He'd had a dream in which he had been brushing his teeth with spinach casserole out of a tube for several minutes before realizing the taste in his mouth was one not resulting of dinner (and then he'd woken up and found that, indeed, this really was the truth). And ever since he'd come up here, sleeping and eating and performing in the same, three room's worth of space they shared, he was too bored to fall into any deep sleep and usually just dozed.
"Wufei?" Sally hopped out from behind the wall of equipment in the foremost room of the spacecraft. Wufei glanced up at her. "I was finishing the weekly stats', I need to send it in."
"Done." She regarded him with light surprise.
"Oh. Thanks." She sat opposite in a chair opposite him, head turned to look out the window - the only way to see into space at all, it covered the entire front of the spacecraft, a huge, three-foot-thick wall of glass and lens to watch Space through. She looked as bored as she felt, arms loosely crossed in front, ankles overlapping. She cleared her throat, more for the noise than the attention it received (besides, Wufei ignored it).
"We need to unload the garbage." He said after a time. Sally glanced at the screen and nodded in agreement.
"Yeah...is there a carrier somewhere nearby?" Wufei started looking for a Junker and picked up someone's signal.
"We're heading their way now." Sally nodded, yawned, hid her mouth with a cupped hand.
She took to staring out the window again, her chin lowered and her eyes already half-shut - she looked ready for the sort of doze Wufei knew so well. Then she gave a sigh.
"Considering this is one of my first times in space this is such a letdown. I'm so glad we're only here for another week."
"You're looking forward to teaching that class?" Sally tossed her head so that her hair flew back over her shoulders. She seemed ruffled to have been reminded. Wufei kept his eyes trained on the screen, watching for anything other than the Junker's incoming signals. Then Sally inhaled noisily.
"Not really, no...but at least we'll be home again." She murmured. "Appyling preventer agents are still just kids. At least there aren't too many...even though, I shouldn't say so. The number of applicants were low for this year, even compared to the estimates. I doubt Lady Une's happy with that." Wufei shrugged. He had his opinion (which he usually kept to himself) about the situation regarding new recruits for the Preventer Agency. They just hadn't been around all that long, the agency, that is - even Wufei's record was only a few months old, though he had excellent references.
But Sally was an optimist, and, deep down, only considered this a temporary setback.
The Junker's signal came in much clearer now and Wufei made direct contact with them, explaining their need to unload some of the things they had collected on their travels. More often than was comfortable, the spacecraft came across some large piece of debris, a leftover from some old battlefield. It was unsettling to see these bits and pieces yet causing damage in their limitless trajectories. For him, the war had come to a definitive conclusion, but according to Space the material evidence of this end and the means to which it had arrived at that point was too fresh in its memory still.
The Junker briefly came into view as it sidled up to their spacecraft, its bulky, boxy exterior given the impression of something very disorganized in its design when its purpose was taken into consideration - but everyone knew, Junkers were made of recyclable materials, some of which could not be reshaped. It had to make a large, slow arch around their front before gradually and methodically coming close enough to lower the plank bridge - really more of a tunnel that connected the two crafts - at their exit door. Minutes later, a voice over the computer's intercom asked permission to enter; Wufei gave them the code for the door.
There were two men (the third still in the Junker, acting as watchman) in green, snugly-fitted suits, their helmets under one arm, sporting nametages on the right forearm. One read 'Bren'; the other 'Lean in closer'. Sally had stood by the door while Wufei prepared the hatch in the back to be opened manually and emptied. He didn't greet the Junkers when they came into view on his side of Space while Sally offered to lead them to the back.
"Hey, wait a minute!" Wufei faltered at the computer, looked up. One of the Junkers had approached. "So it's you! Who'd have thought - well, hello!" Wufei's stare was dark and uncomprimising.
"You."
"Yeah, me!"
"...You're a Junker?"
"Yep." Duo pointed to the dogtags Junker's sported, only these hung from a thin, silver band at the wrist. "It's my first week out of training." Without waiting for an invitation he sat down, the material of his suit making a series of odd little crunching noises. "I guess it's just as likely for your head to get blown off as your hand, so they put the 'tags on your wrist instead of around your neck." Wufei didn't formulate a response to this but Duo hopped over the quiet at his own speed. "Your with the Preventers? I heard something about this - police duty, right? - but I thought only lower class agents were to perform."
"That was the plan." Wufei muttered.
"Anyway, looking forward to seeing Earth again? I don't think I'm going back for a while, I've got a house. It's pretty big, too - well, not anymore, I'm sharing it with someone, and that does something to you, your perception of the house. Which reminds me, how long have you been out here?" Wufei's glance flickered from Duo to the back of the room and to Duo again. He normally would not be this conversational, but it wasn't as if Duo couldn't find out on his own - he had even more opportunity now, being with the Junkers. Junkers had access to alot of things.
"Two weeks. One week to go."
"Found anything?"
"No."
"I need to see if there're any interesting junk parts back there - for the family business and all." Duo flashed Wufei his pirate's grin before standing up. He was just on his way when he turned around one final time and added, "By the way, has Heero come to see you at all?"
Wufei's stare narrowed down a great deal and his tone of voice took on great perplexity.
"Why would he do that?" Duo shrugged.
"He visited me a while back. Thought he might be heading back to Earth. You haven't heard a thing?"
"No."
"Okay. Thanks. Be seeing you..." He gave the other a small wave. After a moment Wufei gave him a nod, watching him leave in front of the other with several carts' worth of junk dragging along behind.
Wufei took this to mean Duo was doing well. Sally, coming out from the back, gave him a significant, questioning glance - Was he...? - but, due to the third member of their party, would have to wait asking him any unusual questions. She certainly knew about that one Gundam pilot - you know, that one - who had made an appearance on the news, the image of his unconscious, limp body held up by two Oz soldiers, head hanging to his chest, a little too helpless to appear entirely defeated, his vulnerability contesting with the obvious danger he was. Even though the records and files containing information on the young man were gone, for the most part - so many things are lost in a war, or destroyed or misplaced - alot of people still remembered him. His face had been, at best, obscure, even when seen on a two-story tall screen. And hanging from the shoulders like that, unaware of anything but nonetheless looking ashamed, he seemed younger than his person suggested.
All to his advantage now, of course. There would always be a risk for him operating under normal living conditions, out in society where he might be recognized or where unusual information could be dug up on him. The same went for Wufei who, while unrecognizable in public as a Gundam pilot since neither his name or face made it to the news, yet saw former Oz soldiers or Romafeller officials now working for some other party, some other cause. But the main witnesses to his past life were mostly dead or willingly working alongside him, and wasting any more thought on the subject was that and only that - a waste.
But there was definitely an upswing in mood around the place. Due to a need for self-sufficiency early on, cooking and the most mundane of household chores were quickly dealt with (at least, that was one thing neither really bickered about). And they were not around each other so much that the very footfall of one made the other leave the room for privacy's sake. While Hilde's work hours were generally predictable (she worked mornings to early afternoon), Duo's hours were sporadic and long. Certainly, he only had a four-day work week, but he put in sixty-four hours a week in those four days, sometimes lined up consecutively, sometimes spaced farther apart (he could never really give a good estimate for what the next week would be like). He couldn't help it sometimes - he grumbled about the hours, though the job allowed him alot of unofficial solitude.
Meantime, Hilde grew accustomed to the change. She liked the house. It struck her as having been made for people her size - Duo's gangly form seemed not to mesh with the architecture, the tight doors, the slender frame of the house ending in a steep point at the top of the roof. His person seemed to require more space; Duo never cared, though. While Duo worked (or slept, since, at the end of a sixteen-hour workday he would fall onto his bed for the next seven hours allotted to him) , Hilde formed a regular routine of coming home and doing dishes and otherwise spending time alone. She threw all Duo left on the floor into his room, so the hallway to the front door was completely cleared. She read. When she knew ahead of time she would have something for Duo to eat after work and the required seven-hour-slump following. They reversed the order when Duo stayed at home.
Gradually they came to expect the presence of the other somewhere in the house. The quiet and impersonal setting of the house - one of many, near-identical along that street - made time to self enjoyable and cherished. The cool, white walls, empty of any elaboration, settling into the cold, bare floor. A dull gleam of metal finishing or kitchen appliances, silverware; windows with the shades pulled up unevenly. Even the furniture was untouched by any sentimentality on either parts'; everything was secondhand and worn with age and use, not attachment.
But the shared noise and companionship of two people living in the same space was just as welcome. It even grew comforting. There was nothing specific to hold up as a prime example of their laid-back comfort around each other.
It often came about that, arriving late in the evening, Duo would find Hilde in the one comfy chair on the floor level. She usually turned it towards the windows facing the backyard. Even with the artificial night a glimmer shone through where the sun lay directly, and she often forgot to turn on a light when it darkened like that.
"Hilde..." He crossed the hall and flicked the switch: the kitchen suddenly glared with light that bounded off all the surfaces, and Hilde pulled a hand across her eyes with the sudden change. "Don't read in the dark."
"Hi." She set aside her book - sometimes it was the newspaper, parts of it shedding across her lap while she scrutinized a certain section. "How'd you feel?"
"Hungry." She pointed to a pot on the stove, one that Duo headed for immediately. "What is it?"
"Stew."
"Ah, something primitive - lovely." He enthusiastically spooned large portions into a bowl and, setting it on the kitchen table, sat opposite her in one of the chairs. "How're you?" While the stuff in his bowl cooled a little he undid the upper half of his suit, letting the material fall about his waist undecorously while eating in a thin undershirt. Hilde shrugged, watching.
"Not alot. My paycheck's coming in this Friday, though."
"Good."
"There might be a position opening for manager, Duo. I want to try for it."
"Great! - does that mean a raise?" Hilde regarded him a little irritably.
"Well, not really, it just means the manager works more than the others, but it's a step in that direction..."
"Ah." He took his bowl to the pot for more stew.
"Anyway," Hilde began afresh, "...wish me luck."
"Of course."
"Duo?..." He looked up from where he sat bent over the bowl, eyes peering with a puzzled expression through what hair had fallen into his face .
"Hmm?"
"Why are you eating like a starved bear?" He paused, righted himself, and put some distance between himself and the edge of the table.
"I'm in a hurry - I've got to go in three hours."
"Again?"
"Yup, it's a double shift."
"Should I pack some up for you?" She asked hesitantly. He smiled until she thought laughter and merriment would crowd out any other feeling present in his face. It made her return the smile, and they both sat happily beaming at each other for a moment, bathing in the glow.
"That'd be so, so nice!" He all but chirped. Hilde stood up and looked around for a container of some reasonable size, they always ended up with mismatched ones...ah, found one, and the lid - perfect.
Duo sat up when he thought he heard her groan. He turned to look over his shoulder.
"Hilde?" She was leaning against the counter, one palm pressing into the small of her back, the other lying loosely around her stomach.
"Yeah?" She huffed - not quite in pain, but as though she were impatient with something.
"Are you sick?"
"No, I'm not." She gave another groan, this one more a sound like water tumbling over very hot rocks, hissing and disagreeable. "My stomach hurts. And my back. That's all."
"What do they make you carry at that restaurant?" He remarked jokingly. She only shrugged again and handed him the lidded container full of stew; the container was already warm when Duo weighed it in his hand. "Just go to sleep early, or something."
"Oh brother, Duo...my back and my stomach hurt." She stressed the words until they should have had meaning but her roommate shook the remark off like it was nothing. With one hand still at the small of her back she glared at the back of his head and headed for the bathroom upstairs. "I need to get some midol..."
"Yeah, those overnight colds can be nasty." He said, self-important and a little all-knowing. She paused, disbelief on her face, her back to him. Then she shook her head and continued on up. On the way up, he heard her give that disagreeable, grumbling sigh again.
Heeheehee. I've been wanting to do a scene like that in forever. Anyway, there's part 2 of Chapter 18. I hope you liked it (comments and the like are always, always welcome!). Thanks, Becca-W