Tournique - Chapter Seven
None of Us are Free
by Jillian
(Disclaimer: I have loved writing this fanfiction series and, as it was left unfinished originally, I decided to return to Tourniquet and give it an ending. Perhaps not a proper ending, but this story deserves its denouement.)
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"Oh, I see you found my gun. I designed that, you know. The catch, do you see it there? If you spin it just right," he laughed, "Okay, well, I thought it was funny."
"A gun that dismantles into a game controller?"
"A disguise. Better than explaining why you have a gun."
"Explaining why you have a game controller?"
"I was a body guard for a child many years. It seemed like a good idea at the time."
"Yes, but you were the body guard. Everyone would expect you to have a gun. You wouldn't hide it."
"I must have been bored."
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Two years on assignment and Douglas Nichol found himself well defined by routine. A routine of mindlessness broken by an occasional joke from his fourteen year old responsibility, occasional communication from those members of his family that still spoke to him, and the occasional night terror that he never mentioned to anyone. Not that the mindlessness meant he'd lost his soldier's edge, in fact, it had improved to a level beyond his days of service for OZ. He had nothing to do besides train.
Mariemia had learned to like his approach to life and every morning at five thirty they walked together to the training room which was nothing more than four white, windowless walls lit by a solitary light in the center of the ceiling over blue padded floors.
"Ready?" he asked her, and Mariemia nodded once. She was just nearing the end of her coltish frame reaching what would probably be her full height, a handful of inches shorter than Nichol and her adopted mother, Une. At one time, Mariemia might have been discouraged by her diminished stature, but a stoic resolve put steel into her hazel eyes and determined jaw. Now and again, the public mistook Mariemia for being Nichol's daughter and he shrugged it off to the mirrored gravelly demeanor the girl picked up from her constant companion and protector.
The steps they went through together were Nichol's variation on the T'ai Chi Ch'üan. Movements of balance and co-awareness and practical self-defense that justified Nichol's attentiveness to his charge. Mariemia, for her part, kept up, her breathing well practiced, but a bead of sweat stayed on the bridge of her lip that pursed in frustrated perseverance near the fifty-sixth minute.
Four minutes later, they were picking up their towels and wiping their faces as Une opened the door and greeted them both with a broad grin, 'Good morning."
"Good morning," Mariemia said, giving the older woman a brief hug and then shooting a look at Nichol. The girl was getting to be a little too perceptive as far as he was concerned.
"Nichol," Une acknowledged him.
"Yeah," Nichol said, having long given up trying to decide if he was on informal or professional terms with his employer and former superior. He pushed his way toward the door making Mariemia quicken her pace directly in front of him.
"She thinks you don't like her," Mariemia hissed.
"Yeah, well sweetheart, I really don't like her," Nichol retorted, having long given up on being professional with Mariemia as well. She might not be his daughter, but he'd long felt like he was her father. Or older brother. Most likely the latter he figured, as Nichol was particularly experienced from having a couple unusual sisters. First, Dorothy Catalonia who had grown up in his house and who enjoyed her endless, possessive teasing of him. Then his by chance, blood half-sister, Hilde Schbeiker, who had grown up in the colonies and through the coincidences brought about by their inherited stubbornness were reunited while spending some quality time together on a prison transport ship.
"You two are as bad as divorced parents. Except," Mariemia threw up her hands, "You never were married! What a waste of effort."
"Now listen, Mimi," Nichol's voice dropped as he used his favorite nickname for her and even though he was certain of what he was going to say, his eyes refused to meet hers, "It's not like that between us. We just don't always agree on what's best for you. I suppose I'm a bit out of line since I'm not family..."
"To me you are," Mariemia reached out for his hand and gave it a silly pat with her own sweaty palm, "Just don't make me chose between you."
"What?" Nichol was shocked, "No, it's not like that."
"Okay, just don't," Mariemia let her longer hair hide her face, "I mean, losing Sally was bad enough."
Nichol swallowed hard, knowing what Mariemia needed to hear and forcing himself to say it, "I agree. And that's why I'm not going anywhere."
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"How long were you part of that household?"
"Long enough to watch Mimi grow up. To get a slew of boyfriends. To fall in love."
"Er, weren't you already a little old for that? I mean, even back then?"
"Not with me! No, but there must have been something to it because she picked the most sullen and brooding one from the bunch."
"Wufei, right?"
"Yeah, although, she seems to have known since she was small that he was the one for her."
"It must be something to meet a person and just know that. Of course, my parents were that way."
He laughed, "Supposedly, but probably not the way that you imagine."
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"Just bring Mariemia with you," Hilde could be seen reaching out to the monitor and just barely refraining to throttle it the way she must have intended to shake Nichol, "You're going to have a nephew in the next week and if you don't catch that shuttle you're going to miss everything."
"It's not like he's going to be a short-term commitment. Maybe sometime..." Nichol couldn't identify why he was refusing. He saw León Catalonia-Barton when Dorothy and Trowa made their diplomatic circuit. But they always came to him. Actually flying out, flying away, struck some primal urge to remain stationary. Frozen by fright. Of what was he frightened?
"Hilde," next it was Heero's arms interrupting the screen and making a very red-faced and pregnant Hilde sit back in her chair.
"Heero," Nichol couldn't resist, "I'm somewhat surprised to see you're still around what with the circumstances..."
Heero's face only appeared in one corner of the vid-screen but Nichol could feel the intensity of the stare, "We've had nine months to work this out."
"Yeah, but it isn't every guy who's cool enough to stick with his girl when she's having his best friend's baby." Nichol had to bite his tongue to keep from saying more.
"It was a mistake," Hilde protested with an distressed tone, "We had a bit of a fight and Duo came back from deep cover just then and one thing led to another stupid thing and this is just my luck!"
"Shh," Heero put his hand on Hilde's shoulder, "You know, maybe we don't want your brother..."
"Yes. Yes, we do!" Hilde's demeanor changed immediately as her tears of remorse became ones of fury, "No more excuses, Nichol. Get on that shuttle or, I swear, I'm going to name this kid after you."
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"I don't know what you're trying to say. My parents made a happy home for us. Even Douglanso."
"..."
"Why are you laughing? What is it?"
"Just visualizing what it must have looked like when Heero and Hilde were fighting over the keyboard in order to fill out the name on that birth certificate. Your mother might have been born a Schbeiker, but she had the determined resolve of a Nichol to follow through on her threats. Or promises."
"Like me?"
He considered, "Perhaps, but those Yuy genes give you a more realistic perspective. Which is why you're here alone, isn't it?"
"Not exactly,"
"What do you mean?"
"She said she wasn't coming because you wouldn't want to see her. Not after so long."
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"You wanted to see me?" Nichol hated Une's office. He'd hated it for as long as he could remember; however, when he was honest, he knew he only hated it as long as Sally had been gone. Somehow, once Sally had been destroyed in that bomb blast during the decisive attack on Mariemia, he was able to think clearly. All the time he'd spent in that office with Une, she'd been speaking a different language from him. She had changed from the woman he served under on Barge. She thought she loved him.
Which was completely illogical in Nichol's mind when he knew why she had sent Sally and Nichol on a unbriefed suicide mission to draw out the terrorist sect that had obsessed with abducting or killing the last Kushrenada. That she had put their lives in danger, and Mariemia's. That she had ordered Sally to her death while taking pains to make sure that Nichol and Mariemia escaped safely.
He never had the guts to ask Une those lingering questions to her face. And as each year passed, more uncertainty and directionless loathing piled over the unsavory inquiry to the point that he didn't want answers any more. Nichol just wanted to be left alone, to do his job, and protect Mariemia.
Nichol was either very good at hiding his distaste or Une had an exceptional amount of denial, because she greeted him with an affectionate smile, "Yes, thank you." He stood awkwardly in the doorway, nearly swinging his arms, until she motioned toward the seat.
"Uh, thanks. I'll stand," Nichol walked to the chair and used it as a place to hold onto and brace his arms still.
"We haven't talked about the future,"
"Nope," Nichol's fingers slid along the leather of the seat with a wailing screech. Uncomfortable, Nichol lifted one hand and ran his fingers through his hair.
"Obviously, it took some doing with all the politics that Earth can't quite break free from, but Mariemia will be under the protection of the Colony Five Guard once she's married to Wufei," Une voice continued, disembodied as Nichol resorted to staring out the window.
"Oh," Nichol breathed. Just short of nine years with this girl only to lose her to a Chinese war hero; however; Nichol begrudgingly liked Wufei. Although, having Mariemia starting her own life always skirted the uncomfortable subject of Nichol having become redundant, "What does Mariemia want?"
"Maybe you'll want to go back to the colonies, to spend some time with your sister and nephews and their business," Une didn't stop speaking nor did she acknowledging Nichol's brief response, "I know that Trowa had mentioned some symbolic guard positions in the diplomatic circles had opened up. Or Noin is always looking for instructors at the co-ed Sank Kingdom Academy. Did you know that they had opened it up to boys?"
"What? No. I mean, yes," Nichol swung his head around from staring at the long empty bird cage and met Une's eyes for the first time, "What's the meaning of this?"
"Well, obviously, Mariemia doesn't need her childhood bodyguard any longer," Une said, solemnly setting one hand over the other on the desk in front of her.
"That is obvious," Nichol felt his belligerent temper fighting for control of the conversation, "And I suppose that's the only reason why you kept me around?"
"Nichol," Une said, calmly, "Douglas, I figured out long ago how you felt about me. It's okay. I'm not going to keep you captive here."
"Oh right," Nichol scowled, indulging his bad humor, "You get to have the moral high ground. Well, I haven't forgotten what happened. And I'm not your little bird," For a moment, he remembered puzzling that analogy of Une's with Sally and the memory came back so clearly that he had to close his eyes to keep back the reopened pain. He finished with less emotional punch than he had originally intended, and said simply, "Once Mariemia's gone. I'm gone."
"Did you love her?"
The question was so direct, and unexpected, that Nichol's hands slipped from the chair completely and he lost his balance. "What? Who?" He asked before he realized and could swallow the questions.
"Sally."
"I don't remember anymore. I don't want to talk about this. I'll start packing my things,"
"I think the truth is that you don't know where to go, Nichol. You stayed because of Mariemia, but I happen to know that you haven't met two of your nephews because you won't go to the colonies even when you have more than enough leave time due to you. And the only reason why you've seen any of your family has been if they're in this city and come to you," Une's voice didn't waver, she spoke with absolute confidence, "I know you don't want to hear this, and we've all just let you stay the way you wanted. Still, bottom line is that I know you don't like me, and I'm not going to subject you to staying in this place without Mariemia."
"Huh," Nichol managed. He found that nine years had made his internal arguments isolated and moth eaten. What he had learned was that it was safer to disengage, so he chose to practice what he had perfected. He remained silent.
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"So tell me, why did you decide to become a detective?"
"Private investigator for hire. Because, I like to know the answers to questions."
"And missing persons?"
"Right."
"Did you ever think that sometimes not knowing the answer is best? Sometimes the question is good enough?"
"We all need the truth. Just to hear and see. To get a conclusion."
"Oh, I don't like those."
"We can tell, Unkie. Mom's been telling us that for years."
"And I didn't ask you to start digging up anything in my past."
"No, but see that's the strange thing about family. We all sort of like you for some inexplicable reason. Except the gun. The gun is stupid."
"That's what your mother said when I suggested the model for reproduction, And besides, if you liked me you wouldn't got hunting for my ghosts. I prefer leaving things well enough alone. And I don't really care to see Une again. I've got her on my satellite network news stations making speeches often enough."
"Unkie, I'm not talking about Une."
"No? Then I don't understand,"
"See, it took some doing. Douglanso had to get Uncle Duo pretty intoxicated to get some of his more entertaining espionage stories. You know, that top secret ones that are just to funny not to share?"
"What are you saying?"
"Well, a couple years ago Uncle Duo said something that caught Mom's attention but he wouldn't repeat it even when she threatened to do him in with the nearest bottle of Broadbent Five Year Madeira that she was planning to serve at dinner."
"He was always renown for leaving that house on a sour note."
"Yeah, but Dad kept inviting him back. Anyway... mom told me the whole story about this Sally person when I persisted and, while I was working another lead on a missing Portugal heiress who was a lush let me tell you, I picked up a trail. Unkie, Sally's alive."
"Come again, because it just sounded like you said..."
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Nichol did take time to repair the uncrossed bridges to his family to the point that Hilde started enforcing a limitation on the time that he could spend with his nephews, "They've got school tomorrow and just look at how they're practically bouncing off the ceiling."
"Now, now," Nichol laughed the best he could under the choke hold of Heero Junior, who asked everyone to call him Hans for some indeterminable reason.
"Now, now yourself home!" Hilde protested over the disappointed cries of her children, "And don't you even think twice about skipping this house on your bus route tomorrow when I can't pry their little bodies out of their beds to get to school on time!"
The applications for public transportation required some resume padding and apparently piloting mobile suits and high speed car chases weren't enough for the new government. After some grumbling about the hoops an ex-soldier with good references had to jump through, Nichol wryly took a position as a school bus driver for the children that lived on Hilde's colony. His military regulations and high standards took the kids by surprise at first, but within time the children on Nichol's bus were demonstrating a noticeable improvement in their classroom behavior. This amused Nichol to no end and he repeatedly read the school's letter of recommendation to Hilde whenever she started to hassle him about playing too hard with his nephews.
Fortunately, in Nichol's estimation, it wasn't long before he got the appropriate and acceptable permits and experience to fly commercial shuttles between colonies. And for all the trouble they gave him before letting him interview, the corporate sponsors of the solidifying transportation system appreciated his dual role of pilot and chief security officer.
"Why did you come back here for your vacation?" Hilde asked while pounding her frustrations out on an unruly lump of dough she determined to recreate into bread, "Why don't you ask that cousin to the Noventas out on a holiday or something? She certainly seems to like you."
"Daphne?" Nichol chuckled and shook his head, "I don't think I'm meant to settle down, Hilde, and I've got to quarrel with that right now. Daphne's a bit too flighty for me. If I don't hold onto her ticket for her, she loses it somewhere between the gate and the shuttle and that just delays the whole flight."
"Did you ever think about going back to work for the Preventers," Hilde said with a strange pointedness that Nichol couldn't decipher, "Or some sort of, I don't know, specialist work?"
"Never," Nichol said with determination.
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"She survived and the highest levels of the Preventers had this once in a lifetime opportunity to put a believed-dead-but-oh-so-alive agent in deep cover. I can't even imagine what all she's been able to do in so many years."
"You saw her," his voice rasped with disbelief, except he was talking to the one nephew that he irrevocably trusted.
"Face to face. She just doesn't think... don't give me that look. She wasn't free once they gave her the assignment and no one could take the mission but her. And it was an important one, trust me."
"Well, then, she's, ah, made her choice," he couldn't believe what he was saying.
"Yeah, and now you've been given a chance to get to make a choice, too."
"What's this?"
"Her next intel drop. Be there before the Preventer agent."
"I can't be the one that blows her cover!"
"You're more crafty than that. It was you who taught Pascal and Dennis how to sneak out through the warehouse ventilation system during our shift at chores."
"They had a natural inclination for it and just happened to follow me..."
"That's what they tell Mom. Well, I've got an appointment in fifteen and I doubt my cab will wait much longer."
"Hey," he paused, "I think what I want to say is, thank you."
"Right, well, what you do is up to you. Because, really, for you it's just a gamble on a possibility that never went anywhere. For me, it's a long standing bet which is up to four thousand between Uncle Duo and myself. Ever since that night Douglanso got him drunk, Uncle Duo's been trying to put me off the trail. He'll have to pay up now or he's going to put in a word for me with his 'un-namable' employers. Which is just as well since the old man's regular broke from all this reckless gambling, you know. Well, goodbye."
"Goodbye."
Nichol folded the card with the location and time and put it on the table in front of him where he could simply look at it. He had changed since that day at the airport, and not always for the better. But he knew that Sally was worth the cost of a little adventurous outing. He snatched up the card and felt a very old expression crossing his face as he bit back an optimistic grin.
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Thanks for reading!
