Rating: PG-13 (may or may not go up)
Warnings: Yaoi, profanity, innuendo, teen pregnancy, etc.
Disclaimer: It's haunting to imagine that I didn't develop Gundam Wing. But... I didn't. Damn. Lucky bastards at Bandai and Sunrise beat me to it. I would've gotten there!!
Special thanks to my beta reader Sintari, and Memeal who was lovely enough to comment. I live off comments (hint, hint, nudge, nudge.) Oh, and strawberries. God, strawberries are great.
Chapter Two- Flight for the Right"You are so lovely," Duo began, trying to speak over the shower. Lela let the warm water run over her body, as she felt a run-off of city-based slime slide down the drain under her feet. "Use the purple conditioner, okay? It'll make your hair as beautiful as the rest of you. How old are you?"
"Seventeen."
"Just a baby," he replied, clucking his tongue, as he dug through a drawer filled with lipstick tubes and eye shadows.
"You're not much older, are you?"
"That depends on who you're talking to. Duo Maxwell is only eighteen, but Megan Rose is a whopping twenty-two, baby!" He heard her laughter come bubbling up from the shower curtain as she turned off the water.
"Can you see Julian?" she called, one arm poking out to grope for a towel. Duo passed her the striped one sitting on the counter as he leaned back to glance out the door. Julian was as he'd been left, partially propped up on some pillows and shaking the keys in his little hand.
"He's fine. Come on!"
"Where's the fire, Megan?" she replied snippily, pushing back the curtain. The towel was wrapped over her body like a dress. Her hair hung in damp locks around her neck and shoulder, trailing behind her like an ebony rag doll. A wide smile broke out across Duo's recently washed face. He was dressed normally again, jeans and a T-shirt. "You know, you look very different without make-up."
"It comes with the gender," he replied easily, before proceeding to gush over her. "Doll, you look like a million and one." Her stare back at him was completely blank. "Bucks, that is. You really do have a beautiful face." One manicured hand held her chin gently, tilting it up. "And you're not too bad in the body either. You've got that emaciated look going on."
"Thanks."
"No, really. Have you ever thought about modeling?"
"No, my concerns tend to lie with my son and getting food."
"Of course they do. Come on, let's dry you off."
"I still don't know what you're doing."
"I'm getting rid of the street-rat exterior and polishing up the babe within," he replied, folding his hands in a prayer pose. Lela sighed, and moved towards the door. "What are you doing?"
"I'm checking on my son."
"I told you he's fine." Duo drew out the 'eye' sound, his voice huffy. He folded both arms over his white T-shirt. "I'm trying to help you, and you don't even trust me to take care of your kid for fifteen minutes. Honestly," he added, clucking his tongue in the most matronly way he could muster.
"Sorry," she said, rolling her eyes even as she spoke. Duo sat her down in a chair before the sink and grabbed a comb.
"Talk is cheap," he replied, reaching for a lock of her hair. "Glamour is forever." Lela's face was almost petrified. It was pretty clear that she didn't trust this war veteran who was insistent on making her beautiful. With a smile, Duo put his head on her shoulder. "Don't worry, love. You're in the capable hands of Megan Rose, and her trusty sidekicks." Duo gestured over the assembly of brushes, creams, and hot, shiny devices used for tormenting the human head. "No harm can come to you."
And with that, the magic began. Lela didn't understand everything that Duo was doing, and she seemed to let it go. His fingers ran through her hair masterfully, combing it free of knots and towel-drying it again to let the excess water run off. He wasn't even totally paying attention to what he was doing, she noted, as she watched his violet eyes wander over the jars that he'd set out on the counter. "You're too young to have a kid, you know?"
"You're not the first one to say that, but it doesn't change much."
Duo blushed slightly; he hadn't really though about what he was saying before he'd verbally berated her. "Where's the father? If it's not too much to ask."
"No..." she began. She swallowed hard, and pointed up. Duo stood stock-still, and gaped at her, open-mouthed. Her eyes were riddled with confusion. "What?"
"Your baby's father... is Jesus?"
"What? No! He's dead!"
A silence hung briefly between them. "Oh..." he began slowly. Then, he realized that he didn't have any other words. "Oh..."
"Yeah," she added, letting her head droop down. Swiftly, one of Duo's elegant hands reached down and slid across her jaw line, until the very tip touched her chin. Then, he tilted her face upward so that she was staring at herself in the mirror. He put his head beside hers, resting on one shoulder. She looked at herself and felt this whole new sensation of being. He was a beautiful man, rest assured, having never totally grown out of the innocence of a baby face. Still, he held this aura of blissful joy around him, like nothing could be wrong, even though he had survived one of the most horrific wars of late, as a pilot no less. He tilted slightly, so that she could feel his chestnut locks press against her wet hair.
"Always look up," he whispered. She tried to put on the same confident smile that she had seen cross his lips. "You're really sad, aren't you?"
Her lips were parted to answer, but all she could do was nod. One of his hands slid around her shoulder. "I know. I was, too. But, all you really have to do is find what makes you happy. You know, that old follow your bliss mantra?" She nodded again. "What does make you happy, Lela?"
She couldn't speak; her eyes were completely blank, devoid of knowledge of her own happiness or defeat. Finally, she managed to utter, "Julian..."
Duo's purple eyes glowed at that. "Of course. Julian, that beautiful baby boy you had bouncing on your knee." Lela nodded, a shred of happiness floating into the glassy green orbs set in her pallid skin. "Why does he make you happy?"
"Because... he's perfect."
"I know he is," Duo sighed wistfully, still staring into Lela's eyes through the reflection in the mirror. "He's a special little kid. But... he's a hungry little kid. He tried to eat my hair." He thought that this would cheer her up; he was wrong. Her face went completely wan, and all the happiness fled from her eyes. She buried her head in her hands, and began to sob. "No, sweetheart... that's not what I meant."
She shook him off of her, and abruptly sucked all of the snot back into one nostril. "No, you're right. I'm too fucking young, Duo."
"That's not what I meant!" he cried out. "After all, it takes a village, right?"
"Stop it!" she screamed. "Stop all of this, all of your quasi-prophetic wisdom, okay? You're right! I can't fucking take care of this kid. He needs to be with people who will be good to him, and feed him for Christ's sake!" She ran from the bathroom, clutching the towel to her breasts. Quickly, she scooped up Julian in her arms, and fled through the bedroom door. Duo chased after her, braid flying, until he slid on a pile of magazines and fell to the floor.
A very confused Heero looked up from the macaroni and cheese that was just prepared, as he saw what appeared to be a striped bullet fling itself out of the bedroom. He heard a loud crash, and a louder, "Fuck!" before Duo emerged at the doorframe.
"Lela!" he called, wheezing, "Stop!"
She stopped at the door, and turned to face him, her cheeks streaked with tears. "What?"
"This, my dear, is an ill-planned flight." She stared at him. "You're wearing a towel, and not well, I might add." She moved with one arm quickly to cover herself better, but only managed to make it slightly worse. "You haven't eaten in days, you have no clothes or possessions, except for Heero's keys which by the way he will need back." Duo put both hands on his hips and glared at her, "And running now will only make things worse."
Lela's eyes flashed back and forth like a rabid animal's. Duo was right about everything, and she knew it; she was dangerously cornered, trapped in her own little world of angst, and depression and lost loves and confusion. She sank to the floor like a limp rag doll, Julian still in her arms. He began to cry very softly, and she wept with him. Together, as mother and son, they reached an epiphany.