I've finally fully introduced that little girl from "4. A New Baby"!—And thank you both Seigi-san and irishdragon for some name help, I couldn't have done it without you two!
Well I'm not that good with writing the other characters of Gundam SEED (Kira, Cagalli, etc.) so you can see how little they appear in my stories. For this, I wanted to change that a bit and include 'em all a lot more! But . . . of course, when I was done, I look back and I see that they appear very little. Again. So sorry for that, I'll try harder when it comes to them. Darn subconscious.
Also, remember, this takes place after a story where Mu didn't die in SEED (meaning Destiny didn't happen)so I tried to keep the characters in that sense. It was a bit hard. Hopefully it's alright.
Oh, and if I've gotten the ages a bit off with the years, sorry. I completely suck at Math so I'm not that fond of my math skills at the moment.
I liked writing the beginning to this story and some middle scenes so much, I don't know why . . . but for the entire thing, (I think it kind of rambles).
VIII. The Party
The Week Before
Murrue was busy cleaning up the kitchen, dishes piled up from the lunch they'd just finished. She dried her hands, the soapy sink water on them gone for the moment. She sighed and pushed a bit of auburn hair from her face.
Evi was somewhere, running around the house, Matt most likely in tow. Every now and again Murrue would hear the soft stampede of her children's feet disrupting the quiet.
That morning Kara was supposed to have come by and picked the two kids up, keeping them for the weekend. It was supposed to be something like a sleepover and Tyler, Evi, Matt and Donnie were all looking forward to it. It had been quite a while since that family moved away so the kids couldn't see each other as much as they would have liked. This weekend would have been a great escape—both for the kids and for Mu and Murrue. The time alone would have been welcomed.
But Kara never showed up. She had called the night before—Tyler was sick. Evi and Matt wouldn't be spending the weekend over there. . . . So now the two kids, with their pent up energy, released it all in a lovely rundown of the large house. It wouldn't have been half as bad if it wasn't raining outside.
"Mama! Mommy!" Evi bounded into the kitchen, and, surprisingly, Matt wasn't with her. Murrue slightly shook her head, she could feel the beginnings of a headache coming along—and it wasn't even half-past noon yet. And ever since Evi's sixth birthday, eight months before, the little girl had been constantly switching between "Mama" and "Mommy"—not that it really mattered, it just strained Murrue's nerves a bit quicker. . . .
"What is it, Evi?" Murrue smiled anyway. The young girl was still too cute.
"Mama, Matt and I are making a fort in his room! Where are the blankets?"
"In the closet they've always been in, Evi." Murrue turned back to her cleaning, but not quick enough to not see her daughter's face fall.
"We've already used those, Mommy, we need more."
Murrue froze in her spot, mind picturing the neat, organized, closet with its shelves filled with blankets and sheets—completely filled. And then, she imagined it empty—completely empty. It made her heart drop.
"Surely you didn't use all of them?" It was a vain attempt.
"You mean there's no more?"
"No, sorry. No more."
"Oh," the young girl's russet eyes dropped. "Oh, okay." Murrue watched the young girl trudge away and a heavy sigh quickly left her lips.
"And now I have that to clean up too . . ." she murmured, practically as a whimper beneath her breath. Murrue placed a light hand to her forehead, eyes glancing about, surveying the neat kitchen. They rested on them. The amber of her eyes met the crystal cerulean staring back and Murrue couldn't hold back that content sigh of peace.
"Oh . . ."
Murrue's gaze washed over the owner to those blue eyes, the one who sat there so silently, watching. She hadn't forgotten they were there, she had just become preoccupied for the moment. Those crystal blue eyes, the ones she knew so much, were not the ones of her husband—oh no. They were those of her daughter, her other daughter.
Only eleven months old, the young girl sat silently in her little high-chair, fine light brown hair messily brushed into her round face.
Murrue lightly swept the strands away.
The girl opened her mouth, a simple baby gurgle coming out and the mother couldn't hold back a smile. Simple love danced in her eyes as she watched the young girl stare back. Murrue leaned forward onto the counter as the young infant began to bounce in its chair, small arms reaching forward and a simple baby's laugh filled the air.
It reminded Murrue of her other two children—the two currently messing up Matthew's room. She loved them all, but even so, Mu's faint words traveled through her.
"Everybody's cute until they learn to talk," she smiled. "—or walk."
The young girl gurgled another baby word and Murrue's fingers lovingly traveled her daughter's face.
"And when you get older, you're going to be just like them, hm? You're going to be joined in all their antics as well?" Just imagining the answer made Murrue smile, soft giggles escaping. "We're going to have our arms full, huh? Three children? I doubt even Mu could keep up with you three. . . ."
"What do you say, Marie? Think Daddy's gonna be able to handle you?"
That smile dimmed, but the amber of Murrue's eyes flashed—teasingly, of course, as she put on a pout.
"Mu's the one to blame, you know—getting me pregnant. . . ." She laughed, suddenly wondering how much a little eleven-month old could understand. "Not that I mind, I love you all too much." Murrue leaned forward and placed a soft kiss to the baby's cheek, fingers caressing the soft cheek lovingly after she pulled away. Murrue's amber eyes gazed into the Mu-reflecting blue eyes of her daughter.
The warming silence was broken by loud crash, a thump and a bit of yelling.
"Eviiiii! You pushed over my book case!"
"It's your book case's fault for falling over."
"But you pushed it!"
"I'm older!"
Murrue shook her head, staring down at her youngest baby. The mother knew she should go downstairs, see what was wrong, and yet something held her back. She'd go down in a moment—she had to finish her thought first.
The yelling quieted down downstairs as Murrue rubbed her daughter Marie's cheek, amber eyes flashing dangerously, playfully.
"But, still, if we have another child that's even half as active as those two are . . . I'll wring his neck."
Murrue suffered a laugh before his voice scared her half to death.
"And . . . who are we talking about again?" She spun around, surprised yet not so surprised to see his thick, cocky figure standing utterly close behind her. The rain of outside was welded into his half-damp clothes, the wetness perched in his golden hair as well. In his hands he held the mail of the day and his uniform cap. And his eyes . . . They weren't as simple and 'cute' as Marie's—his were laughing, and knowingly glaring his playful stare.
"Mu!" Murrue brightened, moving the short distance to kiss him. "You're home early." His arms made their way about her waist.
"Yeah, I got them to let me off a bit earlier today."
"A bit?" She asked, incredulous as she glanced over at the clock. Mu's work for the military usually had him coming home hours from then.
"Yes," he clipped, holding her closer, readying for another kiss. "—Oh, and don't you worry about those two rascals downstairs. I took care of 'em." But Murrue pushed him away.
"Oh really?" Murrue's arms left for a different hold as she went to pulling Marie from her high-chair. The young girl rested in the mother's arms, Mu giving the little girl a welcome-home kiss too.
Mu's shoulder's still sagged as Murrue walked off a bit. He fingered through the mail.
He whined: "I hope Tyler gets better soon. My short little vacation starts next week and I cant wait to spend an entire day with you and only you. . . ." He looked up at her, Murrue catching the full force of his gaze. Her cheeks pinked.
Even with three kids, he could still make her blush so easily.
"Yes, well," she cleared her throat, "it's time for Marie's nap, Mu. Could you put her down?" Murrue held out her sleepy baby bundle, blue eyes traced with sleep, light brown locks gracing face again. Murrue waited for Mu to grab Marie, but Mu never went to touch the child. He instead, stood focused in one spot, eyes glued to a pale blue paper, the envelope it came in sharing the color.
". . . Mu?"
He answered her with a soft chuckle and a hard grin. Holding out the pale blue letter, Mu waved it for her to take it, to understand his grin. Giving in to her own curiosity, Murrue fixed Marie in her arms then snatched the paper from him.
As her eyes widened, he began to laugh.
"So the Kid's twenty-four this year.—So's that sister of his."
"Use their names, Mu," Murrue muttered, placing the invitation down, fixing her hold on the sleeping Marie. "That is what they're there for after all."
"Aw, but names are so boring," Mu whined. "I like Kid, Girl and 'Hey You!' so much better. . . ."
"Oh?" Murrue challenged, amber eyes flashing. "And what about me? What's my name? Am I just 'Wife' now?"
Her glare set off the low, deep rumble of a laugh within his throat, Mu's signature rogue grin adorning his face as he stepped closer. One glance down to the sleeping baby girl in her arms then his gaze rested on his wife's face. So did his hand. Mu's fingertips ran down her cheek, slowly, softly.
"I have so many for you . . ."
The couple was so lost in that prelude to a kiss, they didn't hear the rest of the family trudging up the stairs. Evi's soft murmur is what 'woke' them.
"Mama, Mommy . . . We're sorry. . . ." Surprised and confused, Mu and Murrue turned to face the two older children. Evi and Matt stood there, heads down, voices low in 'guilt'. Murrue noticed only slightly how Mu began to grin beside her.
". . .Yeah," Matt mumbled. "We cleaned it all up. . . ."
"We didn't mean to make such a mess."
"But—Mama," Matt suddenly lightened up, young face pleading as a little boy would. "Can we leave the fort there for a few days, please, please!"
But the girl beside him gave a sudden elbowing.
"Matt," Evi hissed. "Don't—"
"Of course you can," Murrue smiled at them. The children's shocked faces brought the parents' smiles to grins.
"Say . . ." Mu cut in, waving the pale blue paper in the air before Evi and Matt. "You guys want to go to a party next week?"
Their shocked faces lit up in an instant.
-----
The Day Of
Mu and Murrue had struggled to race about the house fast enough to get all three children dressed up and ready to go while making sure they themselves were presentable. Finally, though, they were all ready (though a bit late) as they rushed into the car and drove off.
The day of Kira and Cagalli's party had come.
In the car, things were silent. Well, not entirely . . . Evi kept singing songs that never seemed to end while Matt wasted his breath in trying to shut the older girl up. Mu and Murrue on the other hand, didn't talk. Their minds were too busy going over the one thought that had been haunting them.
The people they were going to see . . . It had been so long since they'd seen everybody. Why was that?
Murrue thought she came up with the answer.
Time passed by and people drifted. Lives changed and went off, those people gone to follow the path they'd made for themselves. Thinking about it, time had changed them as well. They had gone off to their own little world, had kids and jobs and life itself to gather their worries. . . .
She voiced the ideas to Mu, but only after Evi has settled down, dozing off in the back, leaving things quiet. Matt just sat there, Marie sleeping off the meal she'd just been given.
Mu just smiled at what Murrue said.
"Yeah, we see some of 'em on occasion, like Kira or someone on the street, but that's only on occasion and we never really talk . . . So, yeah, you're right, Murrue."
"Really? Is that really what's happening?"
"Even though one might want to stay together, the truth is that people fade away." Then Mu began to laugh—a low chuckle sprouting from deep within him. Mu fixed his hands on the steering wheel he drove.
"I remember . . . there was this one guy back at the training academy. —Best buds, great guy. A bit knocked off in the head, but we were practically inseparable." Mu's grin dimmed. "Then training was over, and he went one way, I went the other . . . but, being so close as friends, we kept in touch. Or at least we did for a little while. And now—No, even back before the Archangel—I still have no idea whether he's even alive."
Murrue was silent. She didn't know. There were still moments of his past that she didn't know. But there was still so much about her past he didn't know, either.
Odd, they'd been together so long.
But Mu had to keep on talking.
". . . See, as much as you want to stay close sometimes, sometimes time itself is all you need to rip relationships apart. —Any relationships. Families, Loves, Friends . . . any relationship."
"But it doesn't really matter," Mu mumbled. "All that does matter is that now we're going to be there, with everybody, catching up on whatever it is we could have missed during these past few busy years."
"You know, you say 'busy' but what have we done? I cant think of—"
"Done?" He blinked in surprise and turned away from the road he was driving on to stare at her, incredulous. "Have you looked in the back-seat recently? We have three healthy kids, I have a beautiful and healthy wife and you have a handsome, brave, intelligent, and all around amazing husband."
Murrue huffed, eyes narrowed as she glared back.
"Hm, and you forgot to add cocky, arrogant—"
"Hey, hey, Murrue. We're supposed to be looking at the glass as three-quarters full, here."
"But the saying is 'half-full'."
"Ah, ah," he wagged his finger reprimanding in her face. "What did I just say, Murrue?"
She stared at him for the longest time, silence growing as his grin widened. With a sudden roll of her tawny eyes, Murrue smiled in exasperation, gaze teetering out the window.
"You sure haven't changed."
"You're wrong," he smirked, sitting taller in his chair. "I'm older." Murrue raised her eyebrows at his.
"I thought you said we should be focusing on the 'glass being three-quarters full'."
"But the saying is 'half-full', Murrue. Don't you know that? You're getting it mixed up."
He grinned, Murrue stared. Again. Silence surrounded them. Again.
She stared at him, astounded. His circular teasing leaving her speechless. Faintly Murrue wondered, as she began to rest her head on her hand, how had she been able to live so many years with that guy testing her sanity? What—
A young voice broke her stunned silence, surprising the gleam out of Mu's blinding grin.
"Mama?" It was Matt, in that small voice of his.—Surprising Evi was still quiet. ". . . What glass? Where is it?" Murrue turned around in her seat to look at her son in the back. Mu had to keep driving. Matt sat squashed between his sisters, slate blue eyes questioning, head of rich hair flopping neatly before them.
Murrue was at a loss.
"Ah . . . I'll show you when we get to the party . . . okay, Sweetie?"
"Okay!" He beamed, excited by the answer. He beamed his father's smile. Murrue could see it already—and Matt was only three.
Marie gurgled beside him.
"Oh," Murrue realized quietly. "Mu?" Her tone hardened up his eyes.
"What is it, Murrue?"
"Don't you think it's going to be awkward—"
"Murrue," Mu smiled, suffering from keeping off a laugh. She was just so . . . "It's going to be alright. Nothing to worry about."
"O-Okay." Yet Murrue rung her hands, coupled there in her lap. "But . . . Please . . . for me . . . Could you . . ."
"Keep to myself? A pleasure," Mu droned, sarcasm dripping from his voice, blue eyes flashing daggers as Murrue pinked up. He knew exactly what she wanted, to be together but not really together with him.
She still hadn't changed.
The car slowed. They were there.
The time of the party had begun.
-----
The car slowed, came to a stop, and Murrue could see large party spanning across the green field. People were everywhere, though mostly in the shade, as a group of young children played a game like tag in the distance. It was a beautiful day.
Murrue glanced over to catch her eyes with Mu's but to her surprise, he wasn't there. The driver's seat was empty. She cocked her head in surprise, but that was when her car door was opened, familiar thick hand reaching to her side.
"Ladies first," Mu grinned, holding out is hand for her to hold on her way out. Surprised and slightly suspicious at the sudden princess attention, Murrue narrowed her eyes before very cautiously laying her hand into his.
She had right to be cautious.
When she took hold of his hand, Mu immediately pulled her up and hard into his arms. He then, without even a moment's hesitation, continued to lay his lips to hers. Murrue was shocked by his action, surprised and confused, but despite everything, she tentatively kissed him back. But, it was Mu. She didn't stay tentative for long.
And there they stood, locked tight in the other's embrace, their kiss dragging on. His hands pushing her closer, her arms holding him there.
Only when a soft laughter began to rumble deeply through Mu's throat did Murrue pull away. Her dark eyes caught sight of his satisfied smirk and grinning eyes, and immediately her eyes narrowed in confused suspicion.
And their surroundings returned to her then.
They were in each other's arms. After a long (and rather hot) kiss. Standing before their simple car. A whole group of old friends surrounding them.
Old friends.
Ones they hadn't seen in years.
Just staring.
As they kissed.
Rather passionately.
Murrue flushed scarlet. Mu had . . .
Within moments Murrue was bent deep into the car, her fumbling with the car seat that Marie had. Murrue placed a hand to her own cheek trying vainly to cool her face down, away from all the eyes. Outside Mu's low laugh was beginning to echo in the other's ears. Murrue could easily imagine what was happening. Her husband was already laughing it up with the other guests, shaking hands and making comments—Acting as if nothing had changed. Murrue didn't want to come out of their car again.
Things had changed.
And he had promised to keep to himself!
But, of course, Marie eventually came free from her seat, leaving Murrue with no choice but to come out, young daughter cradled in her arms.
What she saw though, when she finally focused on the people before them . . . It wasn't too bad. There weren't as many people as Murrue had thought. . . .
Murrue nodded her hellos to the ones before them, her arms full with Marie. Mostly the group was of people the family had never seen before, people resting in the shade close to where the car had pulled up. But there were a few old friends mixed in—Mostly Bridge Crew. Neumann from the Archangel's bridge grinned at the couple and their child before walking off with what appeared to be his own family.
As all the company wandered off, Murrue fixed her hold on the grinning Marie before turning to the openly laughing Mu.
"You did that on purpose," she muttered darkly beneath seething breaths. But Mu just laughed once more.
"Of course." He placed a sweet touch of his lips to her forehead affectionately before turning around to the car. Ducking in, he surveyed the two remaining children. Matt just stared at him, Evi thankfully asleep with the ride. "So . . . I take it I have to wake Evi?" He grimaced. It took a bit to wake the eldest daughter.
"After you get Matt out. I've got my arms full."
"Gotcha," he grinned, hard and full. Mu's thick hands quickly pulled the young boy, setting him on the ground beside. Then Evi.
With a bit of bugging, the little girl was awake and up and about. With a bit of tugging, the family of five made their way forward into the sea made of old friends and new ones yet to be made.
-----
In the shade of one of the thick trees, Mu leaned against the trunk and stretched. Beside him, on the grass, Marie was playing—a pink doll and a few building blocks as her toys. Mu could glance up and watch Matt running about in the distance or Evi playing with some new found friends. He smiled. He knew he could watch them all day.
Underneath some of the other trees, the rest of the party stood, the guests mingling with each other and eating their full. It was a great day, a great party, why waste it?
He and Murrue had walked about the party for a short while, only having very little conversations with a few people while in that sea of people. In fact, they had only come across Kira and Cagalli once, and just long enough for them to welcome the older couple and say a few things before having to go off again. The party was humongous—too big to really call it a party.
A rest was welcome.
Mu slid himself down to sitting on the grass, back still against the tree as he played a bit with Marie's fine baby hair. His eyes traveled across all the other guests, searching almost wistfully for that head of auburn and that body of curves. Murrue had gone off—to be with the rest of the group. Mu only minded being left behind a teensy bit. There were people he wanted to see, but somebody had to watch Marie, and the others. So Mu stayed behind, alone, sitting and waiting.
Slowly, his eyes drifted shut, himself lost in the peaceful breeze and the rustle of grass beside him softly announcing his daughter's presence.
So lost was Mu that when he heard more rustling than expected, he didn't notice.
So lost was Mu that when he felt something brush by his shoulder, he didn't care.
So lost was Mu that—
"GAH!" Mu's hand slapped hard to his face as he woke up, the cold wetness biting at his cheek. Blue eyes wide, heart beating wildly, Mu looked over to a shaking Murrue knelt beside him. Murrue shaking with laughter, an ice cold drink resting in her hand.
"Murrue! Scare me half to death, why don't you," he growled, eyes flashing. She just smiled, amber dancing as she slid the cold glass into her husband's hand.
"Aw, but who would watch over the kids?—You're doing such a fine job already. . . . Sleeping."
"I wasn't sleeping," Mu pouted, taking a sip from whatever it was Murrue brought him. "I was just . . ."
"Mm-hm. Okay," she nodded, completely agreeing, tone saying otherwise. Without any more words, Murrue picked up her baby, still playing by Mu's legs and carried the infant in her arms as the woman guided herself down beside Mu. Out of habit, one arm of his pulled Murrue closer.
Marie let out another baby giggle in her mother's arms before trying to get away from them. She wriggled and giggled, all the while fighting her way off. Shocked and surprised, Murrue let the girl go, to roam about in the patch of shade beside her father's legs. Again.
"Hm, feisty one, eh?" Mu murmured low to Murrue's ear as he pulled his woman closer—using two arms now, the drink she'd given him lying forgotten in the grass. She nuzzled into his hold, resting her ear on his chest, the pounding of his heart soothing her tired mind.
"I have a feeling she's going to turn out just like those two. . . ." Murrue muttered in return.
"How are we going to handle all three of them when they're older?"
"Oh, what about sixteen?" Murrue mumbled with a gasp. "When Evi's sixteen, Matt'll be . . . thirteen and Marie'd be ten.—How're we gonna make it that long?"
"No, no, stop," Mu groaned, shifting in his spot. Murrue looked up, confusion covering her face, but he just grinned—and whined. "Kira's twenty-four, same with that girl. And if that's not enough, now, Evi at six is already making me feel old. In ten years I'll be an old geezer."
"Oh stop it," Murrue huffed, playfully slapping him in the arm. "No you wont." She glared at him, amber flashing dangerously.
Mu swallowed.
Satisfied with his silent answer, Murrue settled herself back down beside her husband on the grass, cool shade gripping them and their youngest child. She snuggled closer, situating her thoughts on his close, warm breathing again.
Moments pass.
Mu's hand found its way to Murrue's hair, it gently running over the thick auburn waves as she rested there.
Her soft voice slipped into the easy silence.
". . . We should do this more often. . . ." Mu blinked, low laugh deep in his throat.
"Oh, you mean go to the Kid's party to only doze off in the shade?"
Her absence of an answer answered tons.
Silence. Welcomed silence.
Mu's hand still gently stroked Murrue's hair, Murrue's cheek still gently pressed close to Mu's chest.
". . . I proposed to you today, remember? Eight years ago?"
"Mm-hm." Murrue just nuzzled closer, sweet smile adorning her peaceful face. Mu smiled in return.
"Eight years. . . ." He murmured again, played awe high in his voice. "Wow, if that doesn't make a person feel old, I don't know what will."
"Mu." Murrue threatened with her tone. If he didn't stop worrying about time . . .
He was ruining her moment, thinking so far into the future and past. Though she could never stop her heart from thinking about future plans, Murrue disliked looking so far ahead and saying what things would be like. She, no, Mu included, knew exactly how easily those plans could change.—How in an instant, it could all fall apart.
Mu's soft tone bought Murrue back.
"Eight years . . ."
He looked down into her eyes, the utter softness and care—the love in his eyes was just . . . Mu's voice was soft, low and lulling, his hand softly caressing her cheek.
"But those are years well wasted," he spoke, words sifting deep, caressing just as his fingers did. "Because I spent those years with you. . . . Making this." He motioned lightly to their surroundings, and their third child still sitting there in the grass. Murrue weakened beneath his gaze's hold. Her amber eyes welled deep as she moved closer.
The moment was ripe for a deep kiss and a few 'I love yous'. . .
"Mu . . . I . . ."
". . . Yes . . ."
—Then they had to ruin it.—
"Hey! Lovebirds!" Kira, the birthday boy, walked up wife in hand, old friends gathered round. They stepped into the shade—Mu and Murrue's shade—and continued to talk, Kira grinning. "So this is where you've been hiding."
"Ah, I wouldn't call it hiding," Mu grinned at the surprise, all the while inwardly gritting his teeth. He was so close. . . .
Yeah, go on, spoil my moment, why don't yah. . . .
"Hello, Kira," he forced out. "Lacus. . . . Everybody."
"Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. LaFlaga. How are you enjoying everything?"
The older man sat there beneath the tree, running his fingers through his thick blond hair. His wife, who just moments before was so intimately close, was now sitting aside, soft rose to her cheeks. A young baby moved about the grass in between them.
"It's great," Mu grinned, hard sarcasm slipping into his tone. "Thanks."
"It's wonderful," Murrue cut in smiling, shooting a glare to her less-than enthusiastic husband. Not that the group cared what Mu said—they all could tell why he was acting sour. They were all old friends—all from the war. They understood.
"I'm sorry for having to run off without talking with you guys more earlier," Kira murmured. "It's just that there are so many people here, I couldn't get away."
"No, Kira, it's fine," Murrue smiled from her seat on the grass. Marie began to crawl over. "We understand."
"Yeah," Mu cut in heartily, still not bothering to stand. "Who knew you'd have all of Orb at your party."
"Well, most of them are here for Cagalli, but she's been dragging me around with her all day." Mu and Murrue smiled at the younger man's exasperated sigh. "I mean, a party's fine, but a nice small one would be so much easier . . ."
Even he was all worn out.
Lacus smiled understandingly from beside Kira and then . . . she was gone. Kira's confusion merged with the grassed couple's. But with her disappearance also came the disappearance of everybody else.
The trio was alone, each one smiling.
"How is everything?" Mu asked, breaking the silence. His dark eyes questioned as his thick arm reached out for Murrue a ways off beside him.
Kira answered only in laughter at the more than shocked face of his former Captain when Mu suddenly and literally dragged her closer, right up against him. The young Marie was held in her arms, large blue eyes open and alert.
"Mu!" Murrue struggled, but his arm kept her in place. "What are you—"
"Shh, you were here before, remember?" Murrue's cheeks pinked up as she recalled just what exactly Mu meant. But Kira was still there, so she tried to explain, but her words came out in low mumbles.
"But that was . . ."
Mu laughed, Murrue still lightly blushed. Kira's laughter mixed with Mu's.
"I see you two are doing just fine."
"Yep," Mu grinned as he leaned over and kissed Murrue hard. Against any and all protest. When he let her lips go, Murrue was quite red, but smiling none the less.
"See?" Mu smirked at his obvious win, "Kira doesn't care. Right, Kid?"
"R-Right." Although Kira was also a bit pink at the sight. He liked the fact they were together, was glad they were so openly happy, but sometimes . . . to see former superiors making-out would make anybody awkward.
Murrue played with Marie, wrapped up in her arms, as she finally gave in and leaned back against Mu, finally enjoying his support and comfort.
"Um, anyway," Kira smiled, "—you're enjoying everything, right?"
"Of course," Mu grinned. "But there are so many people."
"So much has changed," Murrue brought up. ". . . so much is different." Kira agreed.
"It's just been too long."
"We should have everybody over to our house sometime," Mu piped up, still holding Murrue ever closer. "—Like before. But with no strings attached."
Murrue nestled herself back into his chest, eyes flashing at the thought.
"Hmm, I like it. What do you say, Kira?" The younger boy began to smile at the idea, his rich violet eyes brimming at his old friends.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world."
They talked, laughed and teased. Mu about how Kira was getting old, Kira bout how Mu was even older, they talked of kids, children stories . . . Evi was going to start school soon, Kira's young boy just beginning to speak. It was beginning to be a truly wonderful day.
Until . . .
The young kids in the distance, running around and playing . . . Even though talking with Kira, Mu and Murrue each had one eye on the group, Evi and Matt still deep in the mix.
"So I see that—"
Then came the loud cry. That group, out there playing, everybody had stopped and began to circle around one spot. The adults eyes were drawn there as well. Somebody was crying. Somebody young . . . and familiar . . .
The sound registered in Mu and Murrue's ears.
"Oh, Matt!" Immediately, Murrue was to her feet, Marie now in Mu's arms. After giving Kira a short 'see you', Murrue was off to where they knew their young Matthew was crying. Mu, left behind, gazed down at Marie's full face, partly drowsy with the day, but eyes bright with the noise of crying.
"Matt," Mu shook his head. "Shoulda known . . ." Soon the crying subsided, and eyes slowly turned away from the scene of a mother calming her son.
Kira and Mu were in another conversation.
"She looks like you," Kira muttered with a smile, looking between the young child in Mu's arms and the older pilot. Marie gurgled a baby laugh.
"Yeah, well, not really," was the man's only response. Mu picked himself up off the shady grass with a groan. Once standing he stretched, and glanced over at how little Kira was beside him—it was like the kid hadn't grown at all.
"So, Kid, any plans?"
"I'm twenty-four. I've grown a bit from 'Kid' don't you think?"
"Hah, well, you'll always be that young annoying brat in my eyes, Kid." Mu laughed, and where he had figured Kira would join in, the younger man was silent.
". . . You've changed."
"Hm?" Mu hadn't heard all of what the boy muttered, but he could guess. Mu's blue eyes looked over Kira, him waiting for an answer.
"You've aged."
Shock. "What?"
There Kira laughed.
"In a good way," he assured with a smile.
Kira motioned over to Murrue who was making her way closer with Matt in her arms, tears still streaming the young toddler's face from his fall. He was just fine. Evi was out running around still—she kept pausing in the children's game to wave a smile back at her family. They were sitting at down at a table—Mu and Murrue, Matt and Marie—they were finally catching up with everybody else over lunch.
Friends, each leading very different lives, and each one somehow drifting off as well. But here they were, together once more, at least for this moment.
The party was great. Only one thing being certain by the end.
Nobody would have to wait another year to see everybody once more.
AN: Sorry it was so long, probably too long to understand and enjoy . . .—and it's a bit out there too.
See how even though I wanted to star the others they rarely make an appearance? Yeah, I have to work on that.
Oh, and about Mu and getting older, that stemmed from a conversation I had where the end result was: Mu was just one of those guys, onewho'd want to stay his young self, a hotshot and everything for so long.
And I'm sorry a month's gone by since I last updated this! So sorry for leaving you off on a sour note too. But seriously, in a month I've done next to nothing while Seigi-san's written 35 amazing chapters to her "Isshoni"! (Great collection by the way, you have to read it!)
I'm so slow!