| I�m getting this out of the way now; I moved my website. I�m now at http://www.geocities.com/ladydarkangel_1/index.html. If you didn�t already know, you do now. Thank you. Ok, this turned out to be long. Longer then I expected. But hopefully it�s OK. Story number�� ummm, I forgot exactly how many there were but it�s part of the Children Series. �Fei�s turn now. And I now turn my attentions to Duo and the Harridan and a couple of other fics I wrote in a spat of creativity yesterday. Enjoy! Title: The Blessed Arrival (Part of the Children Series) Author: Lady DarkAngel [email protected] Archive: Lady DarkAngel's Gundam Wing Fanfiction Library http://www.geocities.com/ladydarkangel_1/index.html, Darkflame's (if she'll take it.) and anywhere else is fine, just ask me first Category: Humor, Sap Pairing(s): I�m toying with the idea but none here yet�� Disclaimers: Gundam Wing or Shinkidousenki Gundam Wing is copyrighted and trademarked by Sunrise, Bandai, Sotsu Agency and associated parties with all rights and privileges. The characters were used without permission for the purposes of entertainment only. This is not meant for sale of profit. Any characters not created by those listed above are mine and hereby considered the sole property and copyright of the author. Anyway, I'm just a poor college student. So can I play with them? I promise I won't break them...much. Rating: PG at the highest! Warnings: Wufei POV, language Feedback: Kami-sama, YES!!! [email protected]; any and all comments are welcome like the sweet ego-sustainers they are. Today is the day. Dreaded by some, welcomed by others�� To me, a day that will live in infamy just as much as New Edwards or Luxembourg. The day a new war will be fought on strange and unfamiliar territory with an uncertain outcome. Today is a day that will change fate, alter reality and affect the lives of several diverse people in unimaginable ways. Today Maxwell receives his child. Correction, CHILDREN. Twins. Perhaps I should explain. Five months ago from now and twenty-three days after Duo was�� liberated from Heero�s care, Relena came running into my apartment with �wonderful� news for him. I use the word extremely loosely. We had been shifting him around locations for safety�s sake and he had been holed up with me (for two LONG weeks). She came with hair flying, aides panicking behind her, high heels chipped from the strain and looking ecstatic. She didn�t even bother to knock; just ran right in, shrieking for Duo. I KNEW I should have locked that damn door. Well, that onna just glomped onto him and started sobbing that it was all good and that everything will be alright from now on. Of *course* we had NO idea what she�s talking about (I favored the theory that something tragic had occurred and it had destroyed her mind while Duo leaned towards too much �cheap-ass coffee�) so we spend almost fifteen minutes trying to get the situation out of her. When we finally do, Maxwell starts sobbing. Which is just my luck that I was left to deal with two weeping bakas. Weaklings. No, that is unjust of me. In truth, both are among the strongest people I have been privileged to know. Both have the kind of grace under fire and strength of spirit that the ancients masters extol. Their rather shallow exteriors hide the true mettle within and both are more then capable of dealing with whatever life throws their way. It is their chosen methods of doing that annoys me so. I do not see the ecstasy in the situation. Perhaps it is my upbringing, but I believe that children are a necessary duty and burden. True, they bring joy and light as Maxwell claims but we of the Dragon clan prefer to view reality in all of its harshness. Along with joy comes pain, happiness lies with misery, trust stands with worry. Realistically, the disadvantages have the upper hands and the visible consequences of children are often not pleasant. Practicality is our rule of life and no one has ever called the Dragon clan fools. There will always be children. That is a fact of nature since they are a vital part of life. Please do not misunderstand me (as Relena has), I am not a child-hater. I find them to be an enigma: they hold the potential to be literally *anything* and yet, they are not as simple as things to be molded into shape. Techniques and ideas that hold true to most everyone and everything else in the Earthsphere and the universe over utterly fail in the implacable face of childhood. They are, in a word, frustrating. I firmly believe that is their purpose in life. I distinctly remember my own training. As a scholar, I frustrated my teachers with questions I was too young to know that were inappropriate to ask or had been deemed unanswerable. I did not know that it was dishonorable to ask why we were the way we were: why no one tended to my wounds when I fell, why no one read to me except when it was the ancient language I couldn�t grasp yet, why no one talked about the reasons why Romafeller banished us to the lonely L5 cluster to die. In the naivety of my youth, I did not see that the silence we held was to protect us. Confronting knowledge and speaking it aloud are two very different things. I frustrated my Sifu when I improvised on my katas. Originality was not needed nor was it appreciated; the movements were perfected centuries ago. The smooth rhythm and balanced coordination is something that a mere child could never hope to come up with. But I thought arrogantly that maybe I could come up with something new. I will never tell Maxwell this, but the sword he is so fond of defacing was defaced by me first. A one and only attempt to �improve� it lead to the caning of my life. I have long since pondered my past. It has made me different from the others, colder at times- even more so then Yuy. Since I am a scholar first, I chose to research the reasons why. The impression that it might be the Asian take on child-rearing versus the Western kind crossed my mind but then I quickly dismissed that. Others in my clan, raised by the same techniques, acted like Maxwell and others sounded like Quatre. That could not be it. Many theories later, I was still at a loss. Then came the news of the adoption. My initial thought was to leave the baka to his fate. Maxwell chose his path and he should walk it alone. But Quatre�s determination to rescue him sparked curiosity in me. What was so�� fascinating about all this business? What could be worth all the aggravation and personal loss inherent in this venture? Especially if Yuy got a hold of him? I did not understand and sought out my fellow pilot who was roped into this. He showed me the proof that convinced him. Quatre extolled the wonder that was Duo�s heartfelt and damn-near tearjerking work of art. I�ll confess it worked less strongly on me. I grasped the significance of the picture immediately. I�d be remiss to my education if I missed both the obvious and the subtle symbolism represented. But unfortunately for Maxwell, I am not as susceptible to the emotional aspects driving it. I can plainly see the need; I felt less then inclined to assuage it. I handle the practical dealings of life and had no urge to delve into its murkier and ambiguous depths. Justice and honor have their own cloudy moments and I don�t need to have my mind darkened by the shadows and specters of unknown and unwelcome non-logical thoughts and feelings. Pity for me HE decided elsewise. Yuy was not pleased to discover Maxwell gone. He made several attempts to reclaim him (one destroyed Quatre�s new car and gave the braided menace a near-permanent case of the jitters) and therefore required the baka to be protected. My honor demanded I shelter my comrade and by extension his ideas. It�s times like this I wish I could tell honor to go jump off a Gundam. I placed myself in harm�s way to protect an idiot from an idiot. However, we assume once the children have been delivered, all the attacks will cease. Well, the physical ones, anyway. As Socrates defended, true justice is not the advantage of the stronger. (1) I took him in and had to put up with his odd concepts. When in the presence of corrupting influence, one can�t help but be influenced. I started to listen to him talk, sing and murmur to himself. I began to tolerate his nonsense to keep my sanity. And I have yet to figure out how or when, but I began to support him, despite my own personal opinions. Which leads me here today. A journey I was reluctant to make has led me to an uncertain present and a very questionable future. Yet here I remain for I am Chang Wufei and I back down from no challenge, ignore no threat and I leave nothing to chance. I will overcome this and ensure it turns out well for all involved. We stand in the offices of the Orphan�s Chance Adoption Agency. The war led to many children of different walks of life being forced to join the ranks of the parentless. Rich and poor, colony and Earth-born, aristocrat and not�� all are in the same boat. Relena�s government established several such agencies as soon as it came to power. One was solely dedicated to identifying them: obtaining birth and medical records (if they still exist) and locating family members. They are not always successful. As for Maxwell�s little ones, we have names and partial records. However, many exact dates, including their birthdays, have been lost. They also have family. But for reasons the agency couldn�t specify, the relatives refused to take the children in. I was instantly suspicious of course and wanted to research why. Only Maxwell�s rather pathetic attempt at pleading managed to weaken my resolve (he�s too proud to do it for real). He asked to leave it be and that it would do no one any good to raise such questions. All we know is that at least one parent worked for OZ and was fairly high up. This did not sit well with me (nor with Quatre) but of course HE doesn�t give a damn. Kami help us when Yuy finds out. We have dressed up. I would say we were in our formal attire but I was lucky to get Maxwell into a pair of unstained khakis and a decent light blue polo shirt that actually fit correctly. With his hair immaculately brushed and braided, he looked to be about 78% respectable. It was that best I could do. I naturally chose to wear something more appropriate then my usual white outfit. Red is the predominant color I don, for my clan honors the belief that red brings the most luck and we will most certainly need all we can get. He is fairly bouncing as he hums a tune I don�t recognize, most likely because it�s older then the colonies. He does it surprising well. I guess I never pictured him as a musical person or to sing so competently. This bothers me because I have spent enough time with him to know better. I knew my opinion of him was unjustly low but to have it revealed to me is�� disturbing. That it�s done so unconsciously and casually only ups the feeling. I suppose that I have been fooled by appearances. He puts up a good front, one that has tricked many a soul with sparkling eyes and an impossibly wide smile. But that�s just it. Impossible. Impossible to exist like that and be who we were. Impossible to be the stupid klutzy baka he likes to portray. His shield of false amicability that snowballed the others and me for years. I fell for the pretend Maxwell. I now find myself attempting to understand the real one. It has not been easy. He really is cheerful, that much is real. But he has spats of darker emotions; anger, depression and fear show up frequently in the course of his day. He�s surprisingly intellectual and competent. I mean that not as a slur, but to one who had little to no formal education and training, he is beyond excellent in his reasoning and skills set. Much of it must be natural talent and if that is so, he is a blessed man. Maxwell is not as klutzy as he appears; his movements are rather fluid and graceful. Yes, he drops things and trips more then is perhaps considered normal. But that could be easily fixed if he�d keep his damn eyes where they belong and his head out of the clouds. And odds are that while the food he makes won�t be toxic, it�s nowhere near 5 stars. He�d be lucky to get 2�� Nevertheless, he is not nor has he ever been the moron he (and sometimes we) portray him as. I feel it is my duty to dispel this image. And I will do so. One way or another. After all, he has children now. It is unjust to mistake him for, and subsequently treat him as, a fool in front of impressionable eyes. He straightens suddenly and I know that it is time. He always did have an almost supernatural perception of his surroundings and if he thinks someone is nearby, then someone is there. Quickly we get ourselves together and do the best we can to look presentable. Finally pleased, we get into position and prepare for the start of this new venture. The social worker opens the door. Two small figures emerge from the room. Both are young, by the agency�s best guess 5 or 6 years old. They�re barely 40 inches and are rather thin, even for their age. Twin pairs of light green eyes stare at us curiously and with a large amount of fear. The boy�s hair is a light brown with blonde highlights that shine in the room�s dim illumination. Shaggy locks in a hairdo that�s a frightening cross between Quatre and Yuy�s style frames a face still too pale and gaunt from malnourishment and illness. The girl�s hair has red highlights instead and falls to mid-back. Despite a recent haircut, it was still unkempt and ratty-looking. Their clothes don�t fit well and spoke of the long-term orphan status. Still, there is a sparkle in their eyes and a whisper about their posture and movements that speak of high intelligence and breeding. Personally, I think they look like the children I was forbidden to associate with when I was younger. Already I was planning a bath and grooming session for them. They were less then impressive to behold. Maxwell, however, was ecstatic. He approaches warily and drops to his knees in front of them. He cheerfully offers his name and his hand. I find it intriguing he identifies himself simply as �Duo.� Not by his full name, not as the man who is to become their guardian�� but as plain old Duo. No requests to call him anything: not Father, Uncle, Brother, Sir, Mister, Elder, Step-father, Foster Father, Onii-chan, Cousin, Bro, Daddy, Pop, Maxwell, Duo-sama, Duo-sempai or even Duo-san! As no on particularly important. As an equal. Demanding no respect whatsoever. I think I�m going to have my work cut out for me here to repair the damage he�s going to do�� The boy looks at him skeptically before deciding to shake the hand in front of him. His voice shakes as he declares their names. Daisuke and Delavan Crais, introducing them politely even though it�s clear he�s trying to look and sound brave and mature while being scared out of his wits. I must give him credit; such fortitude at his age in this kind of situation is commendable. The sister is courageous as well, approaching and offering an awkward move I will assume was supposed to be a curtsey. We knew that the children were from an OZ official�s family and might possibly be aristocratic in origin, but I�d never expected to see any proof of it. Apparently these children were in the process of being taught manners. Perhaps my job won�t be so hard after all. The boy, Daisuke, and the girl, Delavan, may not be such a lost cause as I feared. I�m rather surprised I�m unable to guess their ethnicity from looks. Oz nobility is notorious for not mixing with�� what they consider undesirable types whereas as the Colonies and most of Earth could give less then a damn and consequently you get people like Quatre who defy the standard expectations of their race�s physical appearances. But that doesn�t seem to be the case here. They look�� well, basically European, I guess. But the boy�s name and something about their features suggest an Oriental, possibly Japanese, influence. Not that Maxwell cares any. He�s already nicknamed them. Dai and Van. I grimace. He�s chattering on to them, explaining what�s going on and what it will mean for them. I�m not the only one to have a high opinion of their intelligence; he has not spoken down to them, using correct and technically advanced vocabulary and had yet to use a euphemism. They nod their understanding and he asked if there were any questions. To my surprise, there is one. Of course it�s about the braid. But I�m startled by the frank question of how long it took to grow that long and how it stays in such pristine condition. I�m shocked by the request to have one and the inquiry of help in attaining that goal. I�m damn floored by the fact that it came from BOTH of them. The boy is particularly enthusiastic about it. Maxwell grins widely and declares they�ll all get along just fine. I groan audibly and agree. This will not help my case one damn bit. I foresee trouble with the lessons I have planned. I can see now that their education will forever hold his influence. I really should have seen that coming. He will coddle and spoil them, encourage them to the frivolous side of life. By his very nature, he will disregard formalities they are obviously familiar with in favor of his laid-back style. Well, I will not allow that to ruin it! Those children will grow up RIGHT, by Nataku, even if I have to move in and take over! He turns to look at me and we share an understanding look. I try my best to look dignified as he gleefully points to me and declares me to be �Unckie Wufei�. I offer a bow and am delighted to receive the honor in return. They observe me with care and treat me with the respect owed to an elder as they quietly mumble their greetings. I tell them I am grateful to meet them and that we will have many fine meetings in the future. But now, it is time to get acquainted with their guardian. They turn, share a meaningful glance and shriek with glee, pouncing on him and a tickle war ensues. As this first meeting goes on, I silently watch this new family interact with pride. And suddenly realize that I�m a committed member of it. Uncle Wufei, ne? It�s not as bad I thought it might be. In fact, I�m getting the feeling I may enjoy this. ~ ~ Owari ~ ~ *looks back* So we�ve meet the rugrats. Now, what happens? Oh, and if anyone would be kind enough to draw Dai and Van for me so I can put them up on my page, I�ll be grateful. I might even write a fic for you if I like it! *nudge, nudge* I like C&C! (1) The Republic, Book One. Defending against Thrasymachus, who stated that was the definition of justice. Wufei would have a field day with that junk. Lady DarkAngel ---------- �Neesan to Misuzu and A-chan Chibi Duo's Babysitter Moderator of Duo's Sugar Intake Keeper of Duo's Nice Rear-end Co-Keeper of Shinigami's Wings (with Meela) Keeper of Heero's Homicidal Intentions Keeper of Quatre's Teacup Keeper of Trowa's Mask Keeper of Wufei's Sense of Honor Co-Keeper of Duo's Chatter (with Tomanaiya) Co-Keeper of Heero's "Hn" (with Tomanaiya) Co-Writer of Wufei's Rants (with Tomanaiya) Leader of the Inspirationally-challenged Muses: Alisande, Rynvi, and Kiagara Co-Keeper of real-life hamsters named Heero Yuy (Hee-chan) and Shinigami Eagle Vision (Shini Eagle)(with Tomanaiya) Keeper of the Hit List Proud Owner of two sets of chibis: Chibi Angel Duo and Heero in leather (twins of Tomanaiya's) and Chibi Angel Duo and Heero in black flight gear with stripes from the final GW episodes Acting GOD in Charge of The Anime Muse Adoption Center and WSCT of the AMAC Proud member of SDDI, the Society of Defending Duo's Intelligence Member of the Society Against the Complete Bastardization of Heero Yuy Occupant of the Happy Hentai House Master Hacker of the Shinigami Organization Assistant Mob Psychologist for the Shinigami Organization Founding Member of Saa-EEP!!! Happy to be a member of the DuoML Member of 1x2, 2x1 Fan Club and ML Many more MLs but you don't want to know... Lady DarkAngel's Gundam Wing Fanfiction Library http://www.geocities.com/ladydarkangel_1/index.html |