Author's Notes: Mein gott, another chapter! Procrastination from finals is a beautiful thing.

The Changs now have 2 weeks before they find out the lab results. I have some ideas for that time, but it's tougher than you might think. Serious ideas are, of course, welcome. (ie, not: OMGXX0RS Wufei has to go BRA SHOPPING! L0LZ!) I don't want this to be a stereotypical anything. I approach this fic from a realist POV. Wumei's origin comes from info in Ground Zero, and I want to keep this all relatively plausible.

If you're reading, please leave a comment. This whole site feels dead these days, and I know someone's reading this stuff cuz the stats say so-! ...unless you're all just webcrawlers. How embarrassing.

-Lady Lye

Chapter Twelve

I don't actually know why I wanted him to call me by my full name. Something about the way he said it made it feel more official, like it was a name I owned and deserved. Feeling smug, I left him alone while we drove to- a genuine mega-mall. We're talking a full city block, three stories up, with five levels of parking. I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. Even if Genji Ma had never given me much money, I'd spent most of my free time in Beijing hanging around one superstore or the other.

I was nearly bouncing when I hopped out of the car, and he gave me the oddest look. I ignored him completely, and tossed him his jacket so that I would be free to try on anything I wanted to. Sure, we were there to make sure I survived the winter, but what'd it matter if I indulged my girlish love of make-believe for a few hours?

As everyone knows, a teenage girl can sniff out a clothing store from thirty miles away. Wufei can not. I was happy, happy, happy, to be in a gigantic, artificially temperate, fluorescent-lit building with potted plants and raring to go, but Wufei stopped- like a fuddy-duddy old person- at the mall map in its big glowing box. Couldn't take more than a minute, right? I peered around the other side to see an ad for a new movie that wasn't going to be out in Beijing for months, and then it would be in crappy subtitles. The English-speaking world got all the English movies first, of course. My passing acquaintance with English warred with my desire to see the movie, and I was just deciding how best to convince Wufei to leave me there for the rest of the evening, when I realized that he was still studying the map. Now that was embarrassing.

"What are you doing?" I hissed, peering around the box at him.

He glared at me. "I'm trying to find a store that sells coats so you can get one."

A disgusted 'pah!' sound blew out of me and I grabbed his arm, startling him into looking me straight in the face. "No one reads the map. We just wander around and we walk into a store that looks like it has coats. Ok?"

I shouldn't have asked. He turned back to the map and pointed a decisive finger at a bright purple square. "We're going here. And no wandering off. If you disappear, I'll have to call mall security." I rolled my eyes. "They'll be able to bring up your records." Even my arms paled. No one needed to see that I had been in prison only two days ago. I muttered something and we made our way to the store.

It was a sporting goods place, packed with skis, snowboards, goggles, and industrial-sized parkas. I eyed them in distaste as Wufei went decisively to a rack to thumb through them. Who did he think I was, some floozie from the ghetto? I knew all about that American subculture and I wasn't interested. He was still engrossed, so I turned around and walked out, back into the pristine, artificial mall. I was nearly fifteen years old, and I was in a mall- a genuine, Western mall, not an Asian facsimile. The West had invented the mall. And the mall had invented teenagers, to do its capitalist bidding.

'Alright,' I told myself, looking around. 'If I were a really cool- really warm- jacket… where would I be?' With this directive in mind, I began to browse. I had gotten really good at window-shopping in Beijing, and now I put my skills to best use. As I walked, I made note of anything with a number, especially those with a percent symbol, and 'sale' or 'off' following them. I soon learned that a pair of sneakers could cost nearly 100 colonial dollars, and that a bottle of "body wash" like the kind Sally had could be as little as 14. Puzzled, I continued looking, and found myself outside what could only have been a trendy fashion store… for girls half my age. How was that for depressing? I could feel the years weighing me down as elementary schoolers imperiously told their mothers to find them jeans in a smaller size. Thankfully, two stores down was a truly fashionable place.

Stellar Imports, Inc. featured flat mannequins like silhouettes of gorgeous women, and none of the bright colors made to appeal to children. Like a moth, I was drawn to its light, and before I knew it, I had an armful of clothing, including three jackets, each more luscious than the last.

Wufei was starting to panic. Not that the words 'Wufei' and 'panic' were ever meant to be in the same sentence, but he had to admit to himself, striding quickly up and down the mall concourse, that he was, in fact, panicking. All the signs were there- an aggravated heartbeat, racing, irrational thoughts, the inability to reach a conclusion. Panic was starting to seriously override logic, and if he let that happen, he could well lose any hope of finding Wumei. And then he would come under suspicion from Internal Affairs, and everything he had feared would appear suspicious would be held against him. He could even be accused of helping the girl escape!

No, Wufei, now was not the time to panic. Slowing his stride to a walk, he took a slow, deep breath. She had seemed excited about coming to the mall, and she didn't have any money, so it was unlikely that she would run away now, before he had paid for anything. That thought made him check his wallet, just to be sure, and, yes, his cards and cash were still there. He would've skinned her alive if she'd taken anything. He told the nagging voice in his head that it wasn't unreasonable to suspect a girl who had spent time- all of a week- on the street.

"Excuse me," said a distressed woman to Wufei's left. "Have you seen my son? He's only four years old… We were in the toy store…"

"Ma'am, if you could please fill out this form with his name and description…"

Wufei turned, and blanched at the sign over the mall's center kiosk. Customer Information: Lost & Found. How utterly obvious. Feeling foolish, he approached the counter.

A college student in a volunteer t-shirt smiled wearily at him. "How may I help you?"

"I've… lost someone."

"Ah." The girl nodded and handed him a clipboard. "Please fill out his or her name, age, and description, and we'll begin looking for… your child?"

That was unconfirmed. "Niece. Actually." Quickly he filled out the form and handed it back to the volunteer.

She skimmed it and blinked at him. "She's… how old?"

"About fourteen. I think." Thank the gods he hadn't told them she was his daughter- the woman would probably think he was mad not to know his own child's age. That thought made him feel rather ill.

The girl shrugged and picked up a walkie talkie by her hand. "Missing: a teenage girl, about fourteen years old, Asian." She waited a moment while various security officers buzzed back crackling replies. Wufei tapped his pen against the counter uncomfortably and watched a little boy shamefacedly walk over to his mother, who scolded him profusely. Damn right. When he found that girl, he was going to give her the yelling of her life. "No one's seen her," said the volunteer. "I can make an announcement over the speakers…"

A vengeful gleam lit Wufei's dark eyes. "Yes… Please…"

"Chang Wumei. Chang Wumei. Please report to the central information kiosk located in the center of each floor. Repeat, Chang Wumei. Chang Wu-"

"ONNA! Get down here IMMEDIATELY!"

Wumei's eyes widened, and her cheeks burst to fiery life. Other customers in the store glanced at one another questioningly, and then at her. Quickly she ducked below the level of the clothes rack she was examining and buried her face in a row of sleeves. Oh, the humiliation! How many times had she and her friends chuckled meanly when some hapless toddler's name was called across the mall?

'He must be so angry with me…' She looked at the pile of clothes in her arm. 'He'll never buy me any of this!'

"Chang Wumei! Chang Wum-"

"Wumei, if you don't-"

"Sir, PLEASE!"

Swallowing a sudden lump in her throat, she discreetly left the wardrobe she had assembled on a clothing display, and made her way out of the store with as much dignity as possible. Her cheeks still burned, and she knew with all certainty that every person in the mall must know it was her, she was the one in trouble. She knew what information was… but what was a kiosk? Confused, she looked around, and promptly wished she hadn't. In the middle of the mall was a hexagonal stand, and fighting over a microphone with one of the women in the stand was Wufei. She very nearly covered her face with her hand and walked away, but that would only have made him angrier.

She did put her hand up, however. As she approached the stall, the volunteer gasped and pointed at her. Nervously, Wumei peeked out between her fingers.

Even Genji Ma rarely got that furious.

In loud, loose Chinese, Wufei began to bellow. "Wumei! Where have you BEEN? I specifically told you when we came in that you weren't to wander off and what have you done? Disappeared! Made me search high and low for you! What were you thinking?! What kind of responsibility is that? How can I trust you if you can't even do this?"

Now it wasn't only her cheeks that burned; her entire face was hot. Stolidly, she took the full brunt of his tirade, gritting her teeth and fighting the tremble in her lips. Her arms crossed and hugged her thin chest, unconsciously trying to protect herself. His rage rose like a wall between them, and she wanted to cry. How could he trust her now? For she had realized that a treat such as a shopping mall was indeed some kind of trust.

He paused for breath and to run a frustrated hand over his hair, smoothing back the loose strands. Very quietly, in front of every staring person in the mall center, she whispered, "I'm sorry."

It was as though a needle had burst the worst of Wufei's anger; he deflated, and suddenly a very tired man stood before Wumei. All was still, and people began to move around the mall once more. The volunteer busied herself making a note on the form that Wumei had indeed been found.

"I'm really sorry…"

Wufei shook his head, walking toward her. He stopped when she took an instinctive step backward. Gruffly, he walked past her instead. "Lets go get dinner."

Not that either of them particularly felt like eating just then.

I followed him, my head down. My stomach had turned into a heavy knot, pulled sickeningly tight. I was glad when we were lost in the crowds of shoppers; no one who had watched our scene at the kiosk would be able to stare at us anymore. My face was still hot, but at least the urge to cry had disappeared, replaced by a desire to sink into the floor and die.

Wufei walked past the cheap, generic restaurant chain and then backed up and asked the hostess for a table for two. I hunched my shoulders up further; he wanted to lock me in a booth and lecture.

But they were out of booths, and we wound up at a proper table beneath a window onto the outside--the relative outside. The colony might as well have been a gigantic mall with cars and houses and hospitals inside it. Both of them lost their appeal for me right then and there. Still, I had always liked the way city lights looked like fairy lights, and so I scooted as close to the window as I could and let Wufei put his back to the rest of the restaurant. I should have felt trapped against the wall, but the openness of the glass let me imagine that if I really needed to run, I could fling myself away and into the night.

He picked up his menu and opened it to the specials. "How well can you read?"

I didn't look up. "I don't know."

"A menu?"

"Maybe. Maybe not." I still hadn't touched mine.

Wufei turned the menu around so it faced me and pointed to the headers. "Appetizers, Entrees, Desserts. Beef, Chicken, Pasta, Fish."

"I know that much," I said, pursing my lips.

"You want help or you want to order deep-fried cheese?"

I looked up in horror. "Deep-fried what?"

"Cheese," he pointed it out under Appetizers. I clutched at the page, tilting it so I could read it better, my lips moving soundlessly. It was certainly fried something with cheese. Disgusting.

I looked at the rest of the pages and pointed to one. "They make egg rolls?"

Wufei grimaced. "Not real egg rolls. Avoid the imitation Chinese food. Their traditional Western stuff is better."

I nodded and looked again--coming to an abrupt halt when I spotted the photograph of a round pie covered in cheese. "That! That! Pizza!"

Wufei pulled th epage back to look at it in surprise. I could see him puzzling through my pronunciation and matching it with the image. "Pizza? You want pizza?"

"Yes! Real pizza!" I was ecstatic, practically bouncing in my seat. I had never had true pizza before, only seen it in movies. This was what Western teenagers ate when they went to the mall! Wouldn't all the girls back in Beijing be jealous-! Wufei was ordering for us, speaking to the server in English. With a happy shout, I cried, "Anchovies!"

Only it sounded more like "An'o-cho-viss!" Wufei and the waiter both stared at her a moment before launching back into their private discussion. No, Wufei insisted, they would not be having anchovies on their pizza, really--just half plain and half with peppers. Yes. Thank you. No, not even a quarter anchovies. Thank you.

Wumei had gathered what he was saying and looked distinctly disappointed. "I thought everyone liked anchovies."

"They're not as popular as you might think," said Wufei mildly, looking her directly in the eye. She pretended to be very interested in the restaurant's tacky, manufactured chotkes. "Mei. We need to reach a compromise. This isn't going to work if we continue this way."

She considered this, and then nodded. She wanted to come back to the mall. She wanted the clothes she had chosen, not the second-hand ones Wufei had brought her that morning. And thought she didn't like the idea of spending more time with him, she also couldn't stomach imposing herself on Sally longer than necessary. Which left her with this man she had contacted on a random slice of luck, who happened to have been kind enough to rescue her. And now she owed him something--her cooperation, if nothing else. Her dark eyes met his, ready to hear what he had to say.

Wufei forced himself not to blink at her surprising change of heart, and instead carried forward. She might change her mind back at any moment. "You were released on probation into my custody. I told you before that if you stay with me, you can have my spare room, some pocket money. You can go to school, make some friends. We can see if your Mao Genji wants you back--"

"She doesn't," cut in the girl. He stared at her until she went quiet again.

"I have tried, so far, to be good with you. But you're trying my patience, Meir--Wumei." By the dragon, where did that come from? "You can't go running off in public places. I need to know where you are at all times. I need to be able to trust you." The ridiculousness of that didn't escape him. He was telling a teenage prostitute, high school dropout, and probably petty shoplifter, that he needed to trust her. She didn't look too charmed by the idea, either. "We both know you could be in much worse situations right now. Beijing's criminal system is not a forgiving place, and by the sound of it you'd have no advocates on the outside." Taking a deep breath, he finished, "I would very much like to help you, Wumei. I don't know how long that may take or what the outcome will be. But I cannot help you if you fight me at every step."

Wumei looked down into her lap, twisting her fingers around one another. Now the knot in her stomach had returned, full force. This man looked so tired, so worn out. How old could he be, all of thirty? Suddenly she didn't want to be weighing him down, either. Didn't he have his own life to get back to? A job, a girlfriend? He had put all that on hold to get her out of jail, and how had she thanked him? She blinked and felt hot tears rise around the edges of her eyes, not quite ready to spill over yet.

Perhaps she deserved to be in jail.

"...I understand. I'm... sorry, Officer Chang."

Wufei closed his eyes briefly, feeling the breath he had been holding finally leave him. "Call me Wufei. At least when we're at home."