Disclaimer: Gundam 00 characters and related indicia © Bandai Entertainment, Sunrise.
Written back in November 14, 2008, this is a one-shot in response to a prompt at the Mechaphiles Forum, "We can't afford to be innocent."
... And because Billy needs a hug. And a cookie.
Smell the Coffee
a Gundam 00 fanfic by Cielo
"Billy... Billy! Get up, it's time to go to school."
A nasal groan and the shuffling of a nest of warm covers answered a gentle woman's voice. The young boy felt a hand ruffle the tuft of hair that stuck out from his covers. He lifted a lazy hand and feebly swatted at the touch, eliciting a giggle from its owner.
"Come on now, you'll be late."
She was met by a stubborn sigh, making the blankets rise and fall in motion. The woman smirked knowingly -- she still had an ace up her sleeve.
"Made you blueberry pancakes, just the way you like 'em!"
The covers were swiftly thrown aside, as the bed's occupant sprung up from his lying position. He swept the fringes of his sleep ruffled, cropped dark gray hair from his face, as he reached for his glasses on the nearby bed stand. After rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he wore his spectacles and greeted the woman sitting on his bedside with a bright smile.
"Good morning, Mom!"
He fell into her warm embrace, as the distinct aroma of his father's freshly brewed coffee and the sweet, buttery scent of pancakes invitingly wafted into his room, mingling with the fresia bath soap his mother used. He shut his eyes as he breathed in...
***
"Billy, I just noticed something..."
A long-faced college student looked up from reading the weekly campus paper. He was sitting on one of the many benches that lined the walkways of a Union university, beside him, a classmate –- one that he considers a good friend. A crisp spring breeze stirred the dark gray strands framing his glasses.
"... a little observation you know... you have this habit --"
Just then a small group of girls passed by in front of them. The closest one caught Billy's gaze and she smiled sweetly, a small shrug teasing the wavy burgundy locks by her shoulder. She clutched a binder and a book to her generous chest, "Good morning, Billy! See you later in class?"
His heart caught in his chest as he breathed in, trying not to stutter, "G-good morning, Kujou. Yeah, I'll ... catch you later." He followed her with his eyes as the girls walked on ahead, Billy breathing in deeply once more – he caught the scent of sweet ginger and something citric – lemon, or...
"Billy?"
His friend tapped his shoulder, and he saw that he face wore an all-knowing smirk, "See? That habit..." Billy blinked his eyes, as he breathed in again, nose slightly turned up. The friend raised a finger, "... only when she passes by, of course."
***
Billy Katagiri stirred, as the scents and sensations of warmth and comfort, of a youthful spring full of hope and romance seeped away from his mind, replaced by a sudden jolt of discomfort along his spine: his buttocks flat on a rough carpeted floor; back painfully hunched over and legs under a table-bas on which his cheek was sticking on its surface.
He shallowly inhaled and exhaled with a groan, his nose taking in the smell of stale alcohol –- Beer? Whisky? Gin? Rhum? All of the above? -- and saliva. He groaned louder as he lifted his head from the table -- nasty crick in the neck he's got now -- and wiped his cheek with his sleeve.
He leaned his elbows on the table-bas and ran his numb fingers through his hair. His living room was spinning in his hangover, and blurry in the absence of his glasses. His fingers clenched as he squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth, as a mantra ran through his head, clear amidst a rumbling migraine:
Good morning Billy -- wake up and smell the coffee.