'Cause all this time, I've been to blind to understand

what should matter to me.

My friend, in this life we live, it's not what we have,

but what we beleive.'

It's Not My Time, 3 Doors Down

Chapter Two:

What I've Missed...

Duo sat in the corner of the room when she came in a few hours later. She didn't see him, but went straight to where Quatre was sitting on a small couch. She came up behind him, settled her arms around his neck in a backwards hug. She rested her head against his cheek in a familial way.

"I'm sorry, Baby Brother," she said softly. "It's just it was a very hard time at the hospital lately. It'll do me good to have a few weeks vacation, so I'll quite bitting peoples heads off all the time." She sighed. "It's good to be home- even if I don't show it quite that well."

Duo watched as Quatre reached behind him with one hand to hug her back, pulling her closer.

"Cara. I love you so much, that's why it hurts me so much to see you in such moods. I know it's not you."

She kissed his cheek, whispered, "I love you, too," to him, and then left.

So that was it, Duo mused. Forgiving family was just that easy. An 'I'm sorry,' and a 'I love you' and it was all over, forgotten in hugs and kisses. What would it be like to have a family like that.... like Quatre's. They were all so important... doctors, Gundam pilots, and such. But they were so utterly human. They had little fights, just like other people. But they made up. And someone would always be there to watch your back, to look out for you.

How long had it been since he'd had a family? Certainly the orphanage was a type of family, but it wasn't the same. And he couldn't remember much about his life before. Very little, in fact. And his life on the streets was far from a happy time. Even the Sweepers couldn't constitue a real family. Duo thought about the strange sensation coming over him. It was unusual for him.

Envy, the thought. He was jelous of Quatre and his family.

She was sitting prettily by the pool in a very conservative black one-piece bathingsuit, her hair pulled up in some messy little knot and held there by about four clips and one very, very red ribbon.

Duo sighed as he climbed the ladder once again. He'd been doing acrobatic flips off of the high diving board for the past half-hour, and she hadn't seemed to notice. Her nose was stuck between the pages of a little paper-back book and an open bottle of suntan lotion lay beside the lounge chair, though it didn't seem to be doing her any good. She'd been outside for at least four hours now, and she hadn't tanned in the slightest. A little bag lay open beside her, a hair brush- whatever for, he didn't know, a few hair clips, another book, and another bottle of tanning lotion peaking out of it. Her towl was drapped on the lounge chair she reclined in.

He stood on the board and rallied himself for one last dive, and then he was giving up. Pulling together his nerves, he took one bounce, two bounce, three bounces... and jumped.

He imidiately knew he was in a horridly wrong position to do the double somersault he'd been planning on. He tried to twist, and only succeded in turning his botched dive into a wildly splashy cannonball, hitting the water with his back.

He moaned as he came back up for breath, and then tried to slink back under the water with embarrasment.

She was soaking wet, her novel thoroughly soaked. But she was laughing.

Here he was, his back stinging like he'd fell onto a concrete floor, and.... yes, he thought... his braid had come loose and his hair was falling in damp, soaking strands all over the place. But she was laughing.

At him and not with him, to be sure, but at least she'd noticed- and wasn't mad about the splash.

"Glad to see you think it's so damn funny," he snapped, pulling wet hair out of his face and pulling himself up the ladder and out of the pool.

"But it is," she said after a few moments. "You've been out here all day long trying to impress me in some way or another. Every guy does. But usually when they mess up, it isn't quite so... splashy."

She smiled. A genuine, real-deal found himself smiling back as he pulled his hair to the side to wring it out. Damn. Why'd his braid have to come undone now?

She laughed again and pulled out the hair brush. She shifted, scooting back and higher up on the chair. She patted the lower end of the chair seat with her brush.

"Come here, come here. Don't you know that wringing your hair like that will break it?"

When he cautiously took a step forward, she reached behind her to grab the towel- still mostly dry, amazingly.

"Sit down. I can't reach all the way up there," she commanded with a smile.

Duo sank down on the chair gently and cautiously, still wondering what she was up too. She attacked his hair with the towel, quickly getting most of the water out. Then, she started to brush it. Section by section, she pulled the comb through his dark brown hair, gently discouraging tangles and knots.

He let his head lean into her ministrations and slowly relaxed. How long had it been since someone else had brushed his hair? Hilde certainly never had- she was more handy with a socket wrentch than a hair brush. He was normally qite protective of his hair, but her fingers, stroking through behind each brush stroke, were gentle.

Cara worked quickly, quietly, and efficiently, and quicker than he would have thought possible, his hair was mostly dry and completely tangle free. Then she pulled it back in a neat braid. He pulled it around to see. She had tied it off with more of her red ribbon- probably pulled from her bag. But, Thank God, she'd somehow managed to hide the ends so that unlike her, he didn't have blood red streamers falling out of his hair.

"Nice work," he commented, for lack of anything better to say. What did you say to a girl who'd just dryed, brushed, and braided your hair?

"Come's from having so many sister's," she said, dropping her brush back in the bag. "You aught to get Baby Brother to braid it for you sometime... he has a mean french braid."

She was grinning, but Duo shuddered at the thought of letting Quatre loose on his hair.

"No thanks." He let his braid drop back behind him. Not only did she have a sense of humor, but she wasn't all that shy. Boy, did Quatre guess wrong on this one.

AN: Feeback is cherished. So please reveiw and tell me how it was! Thanks!