-Oscar Wilde

Serena pulled her overcoat tighter across her uniform, but the frigid wind still cut her viciously. Her throat and nose were burning from the extreme cold she had been inhaling for the past three blocks, and she could barely feel her legs below the knee. As she turned the next corner she was almost knocked over by the sheer force of the gale as it ripped through the wind tunnel created by the skyscrapers lining the street. The weather systems were definitely overdue for an overhaul. Here it was, early May, nearly six months since she first arrived on the colony, and the mercury had barely risen over what it had been in November.

Her eyes teared up and her vision blurred, but she could still make out her brownstone at the end of the block. Serena tucked her head down and made a mad dash for the now familiar stoop.

Once safely within the building she let out a sigh of relief and immediately her hand flew to her pained throat. When she got in she would have to make some tea. She trudged wearily up the stairs, flinching when she heard a shrill voice calling her name.

“Miss Windsor!” the landlady huffed from the doorway of her ground level apartment. She was waving a piece of paper, presumably Serena’s lease, and looked livid. Despite her body’s protests, she turned around and slogged back down the stairs.

“Miss Windsor, you still haven’t paid your rent! I am trying to run a business here!” The overweight woman appeared to Serena like a blowfish in her yellow house robe, all puffed up and looking for a fight. Serena quickly started spewing apologies.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Hutches, I really am. I’ve been working twelve hour shifts but even with tips, I’m earning below minimum wage. Could you please just give me until my next paycheck? I’m sure that by then I’ll be able to pay what I owe.” The older woman’s eyes softened at her pleas and without the stern mask, her face hinted that it once must have been lovely.

“Alright, but only because I used to be a waitress too, and I know what it’s like.” Then the mask came back. “But don’t think that you can canoodle me into letting you live here for free! That check had better be in my hand when the fifteenth comes around.” She spun around with a great flourish and slammed her apartment door in Serena’s face before she even got the chance to thank her.

Two flights of stair later, Serena closed her apartment door, locked the knob, the two deadbolts, and the chain before staggering into the tiny adjoining room and collapsing onto the bed. She was asleep before her head touched the pillow.

*

“Duo, how many times have I told you that motor oil is not meant to be ingested! If you want this sandwich, take off your gloves first.”

“OK, OK, OK. . ..” Duo obeyed and was rewarded with lunch. Before he could even get a bite, though, the vidphone started ringing. He pouted up at Hilde, who with a sigh of exasperation, put back the milk she was pouring and walked out into the living room to answer it.

He was picking the crumbs off his plate when Hilde walked back in.

“That was Hal down at the Diner.”

“Is everything all right?”

“No. He said that Lena fainted during the morning shift. He sent her home an hour ago, but she never answered her phone when he called. He was wondering if one of us would check on her. You know, to make sure she got home all right.” Duo checked the clock on the wall.

“I’ll go -- I’ve still got plenty of time left on my lunch break.”

“OK, hold on; I’ll go get some chicken soup. I know she doesn’t have any in that closet she calls an apartment.”

Twenty minutes later, Duo was digging around in his pockets for his set of spare keys. He’d already knocked lightly twice, and if she was asleep, he didn’t want to wake her up. The knob and the deadlocks were no problem, but for the chain he had to actually reach inside and maneuver the corresponding key into the keyhole that dropped the fetter.

Once inside, he looked into the bedroom, sighing in relief when he found her there asleep. She must have just walked in and fallen into bed, judging by the fact that she was still wearing her coat over the orange waitress uniform and her keys were lying on the floor where she had apparently dropped them. Duo knelt beside the bed and gently touched her forehead. She didn’t have a fever; that always a good sign. He surmised that she was simply exhausted from her outrageous work schedule and all the overtime she had been putting in. It had been bound to catch up with her sooner or later.

Duo walked back into the main room and immediately felt a chill he hadn’t noticed before. Glancing around, he quickly found the source. He moved across the space toward the window and re-taped the plastic over the missing pane.

“When is she gonna let me fix that for her?” he asked aloud in frustration.

“When she can afford to pay you for it.”

“Sorry,” Duo turned around to apologize. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.” She still looked very much asleep to him, though. Kind of like she was sleep walking.

“No, it’s OK,” she assured him as she stumbled toward the hook by the door and shed her overcoat. Her voice was a little raspy, he noted. “I shouldn’t have fallen asleep like that. Would you like something?” She went over to the stove and picked up the kettle.

“Gods, you can take the lady out of the gentry, but you can’t take the gentry out of the lady.” Duo shook his head in disbelief.

“And you can take the man out of the Gundam, but you can’t take the Gundam out of the man,” she shot back with an accompanying smirk while filling the pot with water from the faucet. “How did you know I was home?”

“Psychic intuition.” She glanced at him over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow. After shutting off the water, she turned on him, kettle in hand.

“I thought that was Quatre’s domain.” Duo just shrugged.

“Or Hal could’ve called from the Diner.”

“Oh? Why didn’t he call here?” She twisted a knob on the stove and it clicked a few times before lighting.

“He says he did --several times, in fact.” Serena almost dropped the heavy kettle when she placed it over the flame, and then let her arm fall to her side tiredly.

“Hmm. . .I guess I must’ve been really out of it,” she sighed and rubbed her sore bicep.

“I can believe it, what with the hours you’ve been working. You should probably give him a call and tell him you’re OK or something. Hilde said he seemed really worried about you.”

“I guess I should do that now,” she reached for her rotary phone. Duo came and stood next to her, watching her manipulate the device.

“So that’s how that thing works.” He was honestly intrigued by the piece of ancient technology, but Serena shooed him away, thinking that he was mocking her lack of a vidphone. When the Hal picked up on the other end, Duo set the container he was carrying on the kitchen counter, interlocked his fingers behind his head and graciously gave her what little privacy the small apartment afforded.

He hoped that Hal got up the courage to ask Lena out soon -- it was obvious the guy had a thing for her. He was always stuttering when he tried to talk to her, he watched her while she served the customers, and he seemed amazed every time she came in contact with him, even if it was a casual touch. For her sake too; Duo had never seen her the least bit interested in any man other that Heero for as long as he had known her. It would be good for her to start thinking about a normal guy in that context.

Serena hung up the phone and turned back to Duo.

“Hal says ‘thanks’ for checking on me for him. He’s a nice guy,” she tilted her head in thought before continuing. “Kind of like everyone’s big brother.” Duo was about to make a comment, but didn’t. Instead he brought her attention to the homemade chicken soup that was sitting, waiting to be consumed.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“Just the cereal I had before work.” Duo was about to suggest the soup when he realized something.

“Waitaminit, you don’t have a refrigerator.”

“So?”

“So how can you have cereal without milk?” She reached into the cupboard and tossed him a half-empty box. “Evaporated milk?” He didn’t even bother to hide his disgust.

“A little cold water and it’s almost like the real thing.” Duo just shuddered.

*

A half hour later found Serena alone again and sitting on the floor of her apartment, leaning against the wall with a steaming bowl of chicken soup in her lap. She stared at the pattern through the yellow broth for a moment, pondering the mismatched tableware left in the dwelling when she had moved in a few months ago. She sighed and watched her breath ripple the surface of the broth before standing up and switching on the radio. After fiddling with the tuner for a minute, she found an orchestra playing Mozart’s requiem and turned up the volume before sitting back down.

For a long time now she had been skipping lunch, mostly because she couldn’t afford to take lunch breaks. She knew that if she ever asked, though, Hal would let her eat at the Diner for free. She couldn’t do that in good conscience when she was well aware of how tight money was for Hal as well. She knew she was paying for it now, what with her passing out and being sent home, but still she found she just couldn’t eat.

She stood up and set the bowl aside, thinking she might find it more appetizing after she woke up. She was exhausted. She hadn’t been lying when she told Mrs. Hutches about her twelve hour shifts, and she thought she might scream if she had to heft another tray laden with other people’s food. And as she neared the bed, she felt her body getting heavier with each step. Kicking off her shoes and quickly changing out of her uniform into a plain tee shirt and flannel pants, she crawled under the covers and buried her face in the pillow. A sigh of contentment escaped her lips before she completely lost touch with reality, fading into Morpheus’s dream realm.

*

“So how was Lena?” Hilde asked, looking up from the dishes she was washing.

“Tired, but fine,” Duo answered from the doorway. He hung up his coat, stuffing his gloves and scarf into the pockets. “She wasn’t answering the phone ’cause she was asleep.”

“I’m glad,” she put the plate she had been drying off to the side. Duo continued to talk while he picked up the few dishes to put them away.

“She’s just been pushing herself way too hard. She must think she’s Wonder Woman or something.”

“Isn’t she?” Hilde plucked a dishrag from its hook and dried her hands. Duo turned to her. “Just look at everything she’s been through. . .it’s like the Three Plagues of Roses.

“Frogs, rashes, and firstborn sons? I’m sorry, I don’t see the connection”

“‘Roses’, not ‘Moses’. Duo, watch what you’re doing!” She grabbed his arm before he put a plate through the glass door of the cupboard.

“Oops. Sorry about that.” He reached up with his free hand and opened the door. The dish settled into place with a clack. “How come we never use the dishwasher?”

“For only two plates?” Hilde reasoned.

“It’s always going to be ‘only two plates’,” Duo pointed out.

“Maybe, maybe not.” She turned back to the sink, balling up the dishrag and busying herself with drying off the counter.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hilde turned to stare at his back as he wrestled with the one cabinet door that always stuck. He could be so dense sometimes.

“Well we could have guests, one of these days,” she covered. Duo just shrugged.

“Anyway, explain to me the three plagues thing.”

“Well, lets see,” she took his hand and led him to the living room couch. He sat down at one corner and she stretched out the length of it, reclining against his shoulder. “‘The Three Plagues of Roses’ is a story my mother told me when I was a child. Personally, I think she made it up, but it was always one of my favorites.” Duo’s arm snaked around her waist, coming to rest nonchalantly on her hip.

“The story goes that Frigg, a goddess of pregnancy and childbirth as well as a seeress, told her husband Odin, the king of the gods, that a child would be born who would unite the tribes against the Romans. The gods decided that if the child was going to grow up noble enough to unify all the tribes under peace, it would have to endure certain. . .ordeals. When a baby girl was born to the ruling family of one of the many tribes, the gods sent her three roses; one red, one yellow, and one white. Whenever a rose died, it would mark the beginning of one of three plagues that would befall her during her life.” Duo’s hold on her tightened and he pulled her small frame into his lap. Hilde took no notice of this as she continued her narrative.

“Of the enchanted flowers, the red was the first to wilt and die. It did so when the girl was barely old enough to comprehend that which proceeded the omen. Her tribe was attacked by Roman legions and her family was killed. She was rescued by a servant, who took the child and ran away to another tribe with her and the remaining two roses. She had to live with the memory of watching her household being murdered, but she learned humility and compassion.

“Several years later, when the girl was barely a woman, with a husband and a child on the way, the yellow rose started losing its petals while at the same time her adopted tribe went to war with the Romans. It was very agonizing for her to watch the tribe’s men and her new husband being killed when she herself could not help, but doing so taught her patience. When the women of the tribe went back to the battlefield to bury the dead, she saw Goths and Romans alike lying prostrate in the blood soaked mire, and she learned forgiveness for her enemies.” Duo waited patiently for her to continue, but she didn’t. She just stared off into space, a blank expression on her face. Eventually she sighed and leaned her head on his chest.

“What about the third plague?” he asked.

“What?” she looked lost and then seemed to remember the story. “Oh, the third. It never came to pass.”

“Huh?”

“You see, Loki the Trickster wanted to throw a wrench into the Gods’ plans as usual, so he stole a glimpse at the book of fate to find out what the third plague would be. He then left Asgard, the realm of the gods, and found the girl who was now a full grown woman with a young child. Loki waited until nightfall and then came to her in a dream, revealing what the third ordeal would be. After awakening from the dream screaming, she immediately took her dead husband’s sword from the wall and impaled herself on the blade.”

“But what-”

“Time for you to go back to work,” she said looking at her watch. She kissed him quickly and got up off his lap. When he didn’t move, she twisted the rag and flicked it at him. He yelped and jumped off the couch, holding his hands up in defense.

“OK, I’m going! But I feel gypped.” He made a very creative face at her before turning around and snatching up his work gloves from the edge of the counter.

“Stick that tongue out at me again, Mister, and I’ll bite it off!” She waggled a finger at him. His hand paused on the doorknob and he stood still for a moment. Hilde almost thought something was wrong, but then Duo quickly stuck his tongue out at her again over his shoulder and dashed out the door. She growled playfully before giving chase.