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AC 199, November

I.

      Hilde hesitated behind the bedroom door. She could smell bacon and eggs cooking in the kitchen down the hall, and she heard her aunts arguing. She did not hear her brothers or Duo. Telling herself that this was probably a good thing, she drew a deep, brave breath, turned the knob, and pushed the door open an inch.

     “Kitten?”

     She jumped at the soft voice. So much for a clean getaway. “Thanks for sneaking up on me, Gram,” she muttered.

     Audrey Voss's bright blue eyes--very like her granddaughter's--sparkled with amusement. “You should be more observant. You were a soldier.”

     “I haven't been a soldier for four years,” the girl said as she followed her grandmother into the small guest bedroom. “And I guess my nerves are a little raw.”

     “Not surprising, considering you've had two hens clucking at you for the past two days.” With agility a woman half her age might have envied, Audrey darted behind Hilde and closed the door quietly.

     “They're your daughters,” Hilde reminded her.

     “They can still be clucking hens, especially where you're concerned. Where were you sneaking off to?”

     “Just for a jog.” She tucked a few errant wisps of hair behind her ears. “Work up enough adrenaline to make it through the day.”

     “You'd never have made it through the kitchen.”

     “Duo managed to,” she said with an aggrieved scowl.

     “Duo is walking Kali. Your brothers went with him.”

     “Great.” She flopped, facedown onto the bed, her legs dangling limply over the side. She didn't have enough energy for a jog after all, she decided. Maybe she could just lie here for the rest of the day or, better yet, for the rest of her life. At the moment that sounded like a great idea.

     The bed dipped slightly as her grandmother sat down beside her and presently she felt gentle fingers weaving tenderly through her hair. “There now,” Audrey soothed. “The hens are going home tomorrow.”

     “Not soon enough,” Hilde muttered into the eiderdown comforter. “Seriously. It's bad enough I know what they're thinking, but do they have to tell me? They hint at it to Duo, too, and that's even worse. And he‘s the one who insisted we invite them. I don't think he realized how weird all these relatives would make him feel. No offense.”

     Audrey continued to stroke her granddaughter's hair. “None taken. I take pride in my weirdness.”

     Hilde rolled onto her back. “He likes YOU, actually. He told me so.”

     “Well, good. He's quite handsome.” She smiled impishly and suddenly looked decades younger than she really was, reminding the girl of why Audrey was sometimes mistaken for her mother. All three women had borne the same delicate features, from the pointed little chin to the slightly turned-up nose, to the big cornflower-blue eyes framed by long raven lashes. At nineteen Audrey had looked very much the way Hilde did now. With her long silver hair and petal-fine skin, she was a vision of Hilde's future. What was missing was the figure between them. “Your mother would have been proud of you,” Audrey said, as though she had sensed Hilde's train of thought. “So would your father, if he were here.”

     “I miss them!” Hilde exclaimed. “And I hardly knew them.”

     Audrey rose and went to her bureau, where she began rummaging through drawers. Hilde watched with curiosity as she removed jewelry boxes, cosmetics bags, and tins of hard candy before she found what she wanted. “There,” she said, handing Hilde a small something swathed in pale blue silk. “I had been meaning to give it to you with your other presents, but you need a pick-me-up. I gave it to your mother on her sixteenth birthday. I'd meant to give it to you on yours, but there was no way I could have gotten it to you during the war.”

     Hilde's hands trembled slightly as they peeled back the silk folds. Inside was a single perfect pearl, like a teardrop of moonlight, dangling from a delicate silver chain. She swallowed.

     “Well?”

     “Pearl's a symbol of virginity, you know, Gram.”

     Audrey sat beside her again. “So?”

     “Aunt Janice and Aunt Margot won't appreciate the irony.”

     “I repeat: so?” Audrey took the pendant from her granddaughter's limp hands and fastened it around the girl's neck. It shimmered against the pale skin of her throat.

     “So...I don't know.” Hilde glared at the door. She could still hear her aunts' muffled chatter even through the wood and from down the hall. “So, they don't get it at all. They don't think today is special. They're convinced it's a shotgun wedding. They think Duo HAS to marry me, and they don't like him. I told them the truth, that he proposed to me two minutes before he found out I was pregnant, but they just smiled and nodded like I was delusional or something. Mark and Franz are a little better, but they still think their idiot little sister messed up somehow. I WANT this baby and I want to marry Duo. But they're not related!”

     Audrey put an arm around her shoulders and hugged her reassuringly.

     “I just want today to be over,” Hilde moaned, burying her face against the older woman's shoulder. “And this is supposed to be the happiest day of my life!”

     Audrey kissed the bowed head and rocked the girl gently. “It's not, though. The happiest day, kitten, is the one when you leave for your honeymoon with your gorgeous husband--and leave your relatives far, far behind you.”

     “It's almost nine-fifteen, Hilde. Hadn't you better be getting ready?”

     “Oh,” Aunt Margot said with mock surprise, looking up from the dishes she was washing, “I thought that WAS what she was wearing. I thought maybe biker shorts and exercise bra was the latest fashion. This being a rather UNCONVENTIONAL wedding.” She twittered and Hilde wondered how much more pressure she had to exert before either her hand or the coffee cup clenched in it shattered. As though to add insult to injury, her aunts were twins. Fraternal twins, but they still looked very much alike and seemed to share a brain (so each has half a brain, Hilde had joked to Duo).

     “Relena will be here in a minute,” she muttered through her teeth. “I'll get dressed THEN. Really though, it is NOT a big deal.” WHERE was Relena? Where was Duo? She was TRYING to be sweetly reasonable, but there was only so much of her aunts that she could handle. At least her grandmother was there, rolling her eyes and sending her secret smiles of encouragement.

     “And when is Duo's friend coming?” Aunt Janice asked as she poured more cheerios into Hilde's almost-empty bowl.

     “Quatre should be here any minute, too,” Hilde said, turning her spoon over between her thumb and forefinger. She was not hungry.

     “Eat,” Aunt Margot commanded.

     “Don't force her,” Aunt Janice piped up. “She wants to fit into her dress.”

     “She should have thought of that before she...”

     Hilde set her coffee cup down with a smack. Her breath went in and out of her lungs slowly. She stared straight ahead at the cabinets. I will not kill my aunts, I will not kill my aunts...

      Grandma Audrey patted her shoulder as she walked by. “Honeymoons with gorgeous husbands, kitten,” she whispered, and Hilde relaxed slightly. For about a minute.

     “Quatre's one of those homosexuals, isn't he?” Aunt Janice asked brightly, flapping her hand on a limp wrist.

     “Yes,” Hilde said because it was true, although she wasn't sure what her aunt meant by ‘one of those.'

     “Don't you think it's a little...odd that Duo is such close friends with a homosexual man?”

     “No,” Hilde said laconically.

     “You're not worried that he'll...”

     “Nope.” She put her spoon on the table and swiveled to smile meanly at her aunts. “For one thing Quatre is living with one of the most beautiful guys ever spawned--”

     “That's the other one with strange hair, right Hilde?” Aunt Margot interrupted.

     “Yes. Trowa. And Duo's with ME. Besides, Duo's straight.”

     “With that HAIR?” Whatever the conversation, if Duo was in any way a part of it, Aunt Janice always managed to bring up his long braid, of which she disapproved.

     “Yes, with that hair,” Hilde burst out recklessly. “And Quatre may be rich and handsome, but let's not forget my glorious knockers and my ass that won't quit!”

     “Clearly,” Aunt Janice said dryly and glared at her niece. Hilde glared back.

     “Um, hi,” said Quatre. All four women turned to find the young man standing in the open doorway, a sheepish smile lighting his fine features.

     “How much did you hear?” Hilde demanded.

     “Just the part about your ass.” He blushed adorably, but Hilde was grateful for his discretion. Even if he had heard Aunt Janice's remarks he was far too polite to mention it to her face.

     “Sorry for just walking in,” the young man continued. “I knocked, but no one answered, and Duo said the door was open.”

     “Duo! Where is he?” Hilde exclaimed as she hurried across the kitchen to throw her arms around her savior's slender shoulders.

     “Still outside.” For all that he had twenty-eight sisters, Quatre seemed not to mind one more. He returned the embrace and gave Hilde a brotherly kiss on the cheek.

     Aunt Janice approached, and Hilde stepped in front of Quatre protectively. But her aunt had apparently decided the young man's wealth, good looks, and good manners excused any deviant behavior. She flashed him her waxy red-lipsticked smile and accepted his hand when he offered it to her, while Hilde muttered introductions. “It's good to see that my niece has some good friends,” Aunt Janice said.

     “Enchanted, likewise.” Hilde recognized Quatre's tone; he was playing the role of the well-bred scion, and amusing himself. He would probably have kissed the woman's hand--as she seemed to have been expecting--had Hilde not poked his ribs warningly.

     “You have such an unusual name,” the woman breezed on when he released her hand. “All of Hilde's friends seem to.”

     “It's French for ‘four',” Quatre replied, still smiling genially. “Duo actually pointed out something funny a few years ago. Trowa--he's my lover--sounds like ‘trois', which is French for three. And ‘duo' means ‘a pair of'. And we work for Lady Une--French for one--and we're friends with Relena, who is from the Sanq Kingdom--and “Sanq” sounds like ‘cinq', which is French for five. Duo thinks it means we're all meant to be together. Trowa thinks he's nuts, but I don't know.”

     “How interesting.” Aunt Janice seemed to be having a difficult time deciding whether she wanted to be impressed or disconcerted. “I know you're...you know...so I won't flirt with you.”

     “Thank you,” Quatre replied in that same debonair manner, a mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes.

     “Would you like some coffee, Quatre?” Audrey inquired.

     “No thanks, Gram.” Hilde grabbed his arm and started to pull him in the direction of the hallway. They stopped when they heard barking, and then heavy footsteps on the stairwell. A moment later Duo, followed by Franz and Mark Schbeicker, thumped into the kitchen looking windblown and disheveled. Kali bounded past Aunt Janice and Aunt Margot who had come forward to greet the newcomers, and plowed into Hilde and Quatre, nearly knocking them flat.

     Quatre was at once enchanted with the collie. Hilde wanted to run to Duo, but there were five chattering relatives between them. She caught his eye over her Mark's tall shoulder, sent him a helpless look. He grinned and shrugged, his indigo eyes bright with amusement.

     Hilde was frustrated. She wanted Duo alone, wanted to throw her arms around him and rest her head against his broad chest, and just inhale the safe, sexy, musty, comforting scent of him. But her aunts were bombarding him with questions, and Gram was plying him with orange juice and pineapple Danish, and Franz was complaining loudly that there wasn't enough coffee left for a full cup.

     Only Mark seemed to have remembered Hilde. The girl started from her dejected semi-stupor when she felt a tap on her shoulder, and whirled around to find herself looking up into the blue-grey eyes of her eldest brother. “Hey.”

     “Hey.” Hilde had to tilt her head all the way back; Mark, like Franz, was over six feet tall. It wasn't fair, she thought glumly, that her brothers managed to get all the height, and her witchy aunts acquired all the curves in the Voss-Schbeicker gene pool.

     “What's that face about, sis?”

     “Nothing.” She sagged against him. He wasn't Duo, but he was still the boy who used to protect her from her aunts and who had helped her build model mobile suits when he could have been hanging out with his friends.

     “The Terrible Two driving you crazy?”

     She nodded wearily. “What were you and Franz and Duo talking about?”

     “Nothing. Never you mind.”

     She should have been worried, would have been had Relena not chosen that moment to appear at the top of the stairs. “Um, hi,” she said, shyly.

     “Yo, m'lady!” Duo called, grinning and saluting her.

     “Hey!” Hilde waved, not sure the other girl could see her.

     “Oh, heyyyy.” That was Franz, and Hilde had heard that note in her brother's voice before.

     She quickly pushed past Mark, her grandmother, her aunts, and Duo, and grabbed Relena's hand. “Come on, I have to get dressed,” she said and, before anyone could protest, half-dragged the other girl out of the kitchen, down the hall, and into the safety of the bedroom. Once there she closed the door behind her.

     “Relatives giving you a hard time?” Relena asked while Hilde wilted onto the bed. “I can understand that. My mom still doesn't know what to make of Heero. Heero picks up on it, and it makes him uncomfortable. But you know, as much as I love my mom, it's none of her business. And it's not your relatives', either. What they think doesn't change anything.”

     “I know.” Hilde sat up. “It would be easier if I didn't understand them. I could use ignorance as an excuse to treat them the way they treat me. However...” She shrugged. “They weren't always like this, according to Gram and my brothers. I don't remember of course, but they used to be a little more normal. The war did funny things to people, though. In order to cope with the grief of losing so many friends--and Cousin Michael and Cousin Tia, and my parents--they created this pretty sugary pink bubble to live in. That's why they act like two little girls sometimes and why they'd control every aspect of my life if they could. My parents, on the other hand, idealists that they were, despaired when the war escalated. And died.”

     Relena squeezed her hand and Hilde remembered that she had lost a mother and two fathers, barely knew her older brother, and was constantly under the world's scrutiny.

     Her friendship with Relena bewildered her sometimes. Not that Hilde believed her station in the lower middle class made her in any way inferior to the other girl, who was the princess of the Sanq Kingdom and who had once been Queen of the World. Their personalities were so different. Hilde still believed in fighting dirty and to the death for her beliefs. Relena had matured a great deal since the end of the war, but she was still, at heart, a pacifist. Raised by two older brothers who took pride in their kid sister's ability to swear and throw punches as well as any of their male friends, Hilde was the consummate tomboy. Relena was an effortlessly beautiful, pink-loving, long-haired, skirt-wearing, St. Gabriel-schooled GIRL. The kind who robbed Hilde of her guy friends when they hit adolescence. The kind of girl Hilde had HATED in grade school.

     But Relena was also completely unaware of her desirability, utterly guileless, and had a quirky sense of humor and a genuine sense of compassion that made her fun to be around. These were no doubt the qualities that had attracted her boyfriend, the taciturn, unsociable Heero Yuy, and they attracted Hilde as well, although in a different way. She was glad that they were friends, and very grateful Relena was here today.

     “This is beautiful,” Relena said, touching the pearl that rested against Hilde's throat.

     “It's from my Gram. She's the only one who ISN'T driving me nuts. Although,” she added with a laugh, “her understanding is beginning to wear on me, too.”

     “Let's get you dressed.” Relena seized her wrist and pulled her off the bed.

     Hilde's dress, like most of the other aspects of her wedding, was unconventional. It was, however, the most beautiful dress she had ever owned. (As she had only ever owned three dresses in her life, that was not saying a lot, but it WAS a very beautiful dress.) It was silk satin, very pale lilac in color, and clung to her slender limbs. There were tiny silk lilac pins for her hair, which stuck out in feathery blue-black wisps, making her look like a punk Tinker Bell. Her makeup (this was only the second time she had worn the stuff) was soft and shimmery.

     They both jumped when the door swung open unexpectedly. “You look like the sugarplum faerie,” Franz observed as he lounged in the doorway.

     “Well, you look like the rat king. And you could knock,” Hilde said crossly.

     “Aw, that would spoil the fun.”

     “The fun of maybe seeing me NAKED?” the girl spluttered.

     Franz laughed. “Hey, who do you think used to bathe you when you were a sprout? You haven't changed all THAT much since then!”

     Hilde clenched her fists at her sides and glared straight ahead at her reflection in the full-length mirror.

     “I feel like I should run to a costume shop and get you a pair of wings,” Franz continued, leaning into the room and grinning impudently. “I'd get you a wand, too, but I feel like you'd hit me with it.”

     “How perceptive,” Hilde said through her teeth.

     “I think she looks beautiful,” said Relena the Diplomat as she continued to lace Hilde's dress. “Don't you?”

     “Oh yeah,” Franz agreed quickly. “She's gorgeous. For real.” He hurried into the room and bent to give Hilde a quick peck on the cheek, as though to prove--probably to Relena--what a good brother he was. “Wow, so you're really a princess. So you must have like enormous swimming pools and chauffeurs and stuff. Hundreds of servants who wait on you hand and foot?”

     Relena shook her head demurely. “I swim in my mother's pool when I'm home, and when I was younger I rode around in this really tacky pink limo, but that's it. My chauffer Pargan retired when I got my driver's license. No servants. I'm really not very glamorous.”

     “No?” Franz sounded outraged. “Well, if I were running things, you would. I'd...”

     “FRANZ.”

     “HIL. Can I get you girls anything? You ran out of the kitchen before we could offer you anything.”

     Girls, he had said, but Hilde had a feeling he was using the singular you. She glanced over her shoulder and sure enough, he was staring right at Relena, his blue eyes wide with frank admiration. Her boyfriend will rip you apart if you try anything, she wanted to say, so get your ogling done now. What she actually said was, “You can get me that jar of green olives from the fridge. And make me a chocolate milkshake. The syrup is somewhere behind the salad dressing. Ask Duo if you can't find it. I'm suddenly hungry.” Actually, it was less for herself than for the butterflies in her stomach. Maybe she could subdue them with food.

     Franz ran a hand through his curly black hair. “Wow, you really are pregnant.”

     “And close the door on your way out.” Maybe if she kept talking the butterflies would fly right out of her mouth!

     “I can take a hint.” He sounded aggrieved. But of course, he wanted to spend more time with Relena, who had finally noticed his burning gaze and was blushing cutely. “I'll be back. My lady. Hilde.” He made a sweeping bow, winked at Relena, and left the room, closing the door behind him.

     “Your brothers are cute,” said Relena.

     “You WOULD think so. Franz was practically drooling.”

     “They're PHYSICALLY cute, but that's not what I meant. They really care about you, Hilde. Your aunts are a little psychotic, but your brothers are on your side. I wish I'd known Milliardo growing up. An older brother would have kept me from getting too pampered. But Mom couldn't have kids and by the time she and Father figured that out, Father was very busy negotiating peace with the Alliance. I envy you. But now I have Heero and my real friends to keep me anchored. There, you're laced.”

     “I keep you anchored?” Hilde cocked her eyebrow as she turned. “How do I look?”

     “Beautiful. What did you expect me to say?”

     “I feel REALLY weird wearing makeup. And a dress.”

     “One concession for your aunts won't kill you.”

     “One of many, I feel like.”

     Relena's brows drew together in an expression of sympathy. “They really don't want you to marry Duo, do they?”

     “Nope! Actually, they don't like him at all. Stupid cows. They think he's marrying me because he has to, they think I'm a slut. They want me to give up the baby, move back to the Colonies with them, and finish school. I guess Duo knows what they think, but he wants the baby to have as many relatives as possible, so he's going out of his way to make as many concessions to them as he can. Short of ditching me. Fuck that!” she said, too brightly.

     Relena put her arms around the other girl and hugged her hard. “Families really suck sometimes. But you and Duo love each other. And you're going to love this baby and your aunts can go to heck.”

     Hilde hugged her back and grinned, in spite of herself. “The prospect of having Duo to myself after today is what's getting me through all this. What's the point of saying heck? Everyone knows what you really mean. Can't you really swear just once? As a wedding present?”

     “Fine. Damn your aunts. To hell with them!”

     “You can do better than that. Come on. Tell me what you REALLY think of them.” She gripped the other girl by the shoulders, held her at arms' length, and looked at her challengingly.

     “They're your AUNTS.”

     “But this feels really good!”

     “YOU swear. You went to military school. I went to what amounted to finishing school.”

     “That's why it's better when you say it. Come on, Relena. You're my maid of honor. You've been sleeping with Heero since the summer. Don't tell me you haven't learned ANYTHING.” She allowed a whine to creep into her voice. No way was she above guilt tripping the other girl.

     Relena blushed. “All right. Well, some of the things your aunts say are full of--full of shit. So f-fuck them!” She tossed her hair triumphantly.

     “Brava! Now you can do worse!”

     “I CAN?” The girl was aghast at the idea.

     Hilde nodded vigorously.

     “Put your shoes on Hilde, and let's go. Duo and Quatre probably left already.”

     “First. Say. It.”

     Relena cast her gaze ceiling-ward, as though in appellation. “See? You DO keep me grounded. Your aunts are a pair of silly...cuh...”

     “Come ON. It's my wedding day for crissake!”

     “Silly cunts!” Relena yelped.

     “Wow...”

     The girls whirled around, red-faced. Franz stood in the half-open doorway, his head cocked to one side, his mouth open, his eyes sort of glazed over. He held a jar of olives in one hand, and a glass of chocolate milk in the other.

     “Oh my god!” Relena hastily began offering apologies.

     Franz shook himself, blinked, then said in a strained voice, “Don't worry about it! Actually, I think all girls--I mean women, Hil--should know how to swear. I mean they shouldn't swear ALL the time because then they'd sound like guys and who wants a girl who sounds like a guy? But if they use it sparingly... It's pretty sexy.”

     “Oh. My. God.” Franz and Relena watched as Hilde kicked aside the white ballet slippers that she had bought to go with her dress. She marched to her closet, disappeared inside. When she emerged a moment later she was wearing a pair of...

     “Yeah, those really go with the dress, Hilde.”

     “You like?” She twirled, allowing Relena and Franz to see her from all angles.

     “Combat boots, though?”

     Hilde smiled, amused by their tones. “Why not?” she demanded. “They're comfy. They'll drive Aunt Janice and Aunt Margot crazy. If someone ever tells my kid ‘Your mother wore combat boots' he or she can say, ‘Hell, yeah!' And besides,” she added, feeling suddenly quite deflated, “I sort of feel as though I'm about to march right into a combat zone.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

     There was a blonde girl in a blue dress standing with her back to him outside the east transept of Saint Margaret's. Thinking that he recognized her, Duo hissed to get her attention. When she turned--and he saw that she WAS Sylvia Noventa--he grinned. A shy smile of relief lit her pretty face. Come here, he beckoned, indicating the shadowy transept and holding one finger over his lips.

     “This is the second time I've seen you in a skirt, you know,” she whispered as she joined him. “There had better not be any sudden drafts.”

     “It's a kilt, dammit. But you're right; this is the second time I've subjected you to the sight of my bare, hairy legs.” He executed a neat little twirl and winked.

     “What an honor!”

     “I think it is. Come here.”

     “What are you doing here? And where are we going?” she asked as he took her arm and steered her deeper into the transept. The click of her heels echoed against the cold stone tiles that lined the floor. In the dim lighting the shapes of four other young men were discernable.

     “Good to see you, too,” Duo said glibly, noting, somewhat to his dismay, that she blushed brightly. “I'm hiding from my future in-laws. Where's Hilde?”

     “Being eaten alive by your future in-laws,” Sylvia replied. “They seem not to approve of her choice of footwear.”

     “Or anything else she does. Poor kid. I'd stage a daring rescue, but it might be better for both of us if I stayed out of range of their claws until AFTER the knot's been tied. They're not too crazy about my kilt, either. Between that and the hair they're probably betting I'll run off with my best man or something.” He rolled his eyes. “So, how have you been since September? Got a boyfriend?”

     It was an abrupt change of subject and she flashed him a confused look. She recovered quickly, though, and said dryly, “I go to Smith, remember? All-women's college?”

     “Oh, right. So, do you have a girlfriend?”

     “No!” she laughed. She had a nice bubbly laugh. That was a plus. Maybe enough to cancel out the blush.

     “Okay, okay.” He squeezed her shoulder. “There's someone I want you to meet. Yo, Wuffie.”

     At the sound of Duo's raised voice, the four shadows turned. Quatre grinned broadly when he saw whom he had brought. Trowa was impassive as ever, but he nodded. Heero lifted his eyebrows, causing Duo to wonder if maybe he should have waited until later for this. Wufei looked right through the girl. “Nice skirt,” he drawled.

     “Thanks, wanna borrow it some time? Sylvia,” Duo said, “I think you know everyone here except Chang Wufei.”

     “Oh!”

     That soft little exclamation of surprise was IT? After the way she'd ogled his photograph the last time he'd seen her? Well, what else was she supposed to do, he reasoned, swoon at the guy's feet? He could see Quatre straining to keep his mouth shut, but Duo had told him to leave it all to him. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to be doing such a hot job; Wufei was looking uncomfortable, Sylvia staring at her dress. Come on people, he thought. She was supposed to be smart and sassy--or at least she had displayed a fair amount of spirit back in September--and he was a brooding scholar-turned-warrior. She went to a women's college; he had a (understandable but false) reputation as a male chauvinist. As Hilde put it, she was Elizabeth to his Darcy (which was her way of saying they were meant for each other). So where were the sparks?

     “Hey, Wufei,” Duo said, to break the awkward silence, “I think Sylvia's the only girl I've ever met who had the balls to pull a gun on Heero!”

     “Balls?” Sylvia glinted hotly. “The language of power is still so sexist. Is masculinization the only way to elevate a woman's status in society? And feminization is used as a put-down. Men are considered weak if they cry or show affection. Nobody goes around telling men that they have ovaries.” Sylvia stopped abruptly, apparently surprised by her own outburst.

     “Guns can be dangerous if you don't know how to use them properly,” Wufei said, sounding bored.

     Duo groaned inwardly. Why was Sylvia sabotaging his efforts? And couldn't Wufei at least LOOK at the pretty girl he had maneuvered in front of him? Sure she was acting a little freakish (probably she was nervous, he realized), but she was cute! Sally Po was a smart, sexy woman, but he couldn't believe the other young man was still hung up on her. Not after eight months. Heaven obviously had not ordained that match, and this was, after all, Wufei.

     Sylvia lifted her chin. “I abhor violence. But I know how to shoot.”

     Heero, who had been looking uncomfortable since Duo introduced Sylvia, rescued the scene. “Thank you for the cheesecake,” he muttered.

     Before Sylvia could be further reduced by something as banal as “You're welcome,” Duo jumped in: “That stuff was powerful! I proposed to Hilde, and Heero had a hard-on for a week!”

     They all stared at him. “How would you know that?” Sylvia asked sweetly.

     “Ehh...” He scratched the back of his neck with one hand, fidgeted with his tie with the other. “Well, I did, anyway,” he said lamely. Heero scowled, and Quatre and Trowa raised their hands to cover their smiles, but Wufei was looking at Sylvia with something that, if it wasn't quite unbridled lust, was at least no longer indifference. Duo awarded the girl another point and decided that true love was worth his dignity.

     Now, though, he was becoming anxious. Fifteen minutes had passed, and still no Hilde. He sent Heero for an update, but the other young man returned only with the disappointing news that Hilde was still in the keeping of her aunts.

     “And one of her brothers--the shorter one--keeps flirting with Relena,” he reported dolefully.

     “Franz is an okay guy,” Duo assured him. “He knows she's off-limits. She's just too nice to tell him to fuck off, probably.”

     “Probably.” Heero sounded less than pleased.

     Great, thought Duo. All this wedding needs is bloodshed Actually, that would liven things up!

     Wufei and Sylvia remained laconic, but Quatre and Trowa did their best to bolster his flagging spirits. He was touched by their efforts, particularly Trowa‘s, whom Duo usually found about as exciting as warm beer. Trowa was a good guy, though, he reflected as he watched the tall young man attempt to recount a joke that someone else had probably once told him, presumably with better success. Good for Quatre, at least. Blondie actually gets some of my dirtier jokes, now.

     Quatre was great, but then, when wasn't he? He teased him mercilessly about his kilt, finally prompting Sylvia to ask if there was a story behind it (her spirit must come in spurts, Duo decided). So he told them again about Father Maxwell, the only parent figure he had ever known, and how he had been very proud of his Scottish ancestry and how Duo had wanted to honor him in some way. That was good for five minutes, but when he said in conclusion, “And Maxwell is a Scottish name, so Hilde actually went and looked up what the Maxwell clan tartan looked like,” he remembered the reason they were trying to distract him and his thoughts plummeted again.

     Where WAS she? This waiting was getting to be ridiculous. He could feel his mood souring. He knew that none of it was Hilde's fault but he couldn't help wishing the girl would stand up to her aunts for once. They were the only people he had ever seen push her around, and it just didn't make any sense. The thought reminded him of an argument they'd had the day she'd told her aunts that she was pregnant and getting married; they'd blathered at her for an hour and after that she'd come sulking to Duo.

     “At least you have a family,” he'd told her, meaning to sound compassionate and lighten her spirits.

     “You can have them!” she'd shouted, startling him. He had never seen her so distraught.

     At that point he had known next to nothing about Aunt Janice and Aunt Margot, so he'd made things worse unintentionally by trying to defend them.

     “You don't understand,” Hilde had interrupted him, her voice thick. “They hate the idea of us. My parents and two of my cousins died in the war. They hated it when I joined the army. Now that the war is over they want me home so they can control me. As though that will change the past!”

     And Duo had fallen silent because he knew that he and Hilde's family had fought on opposite sides during the war. There was a chance--slim, but horrifyingly real--that he or one of his friends was responsible for their deaths. He knew Hilde would understand, but he did not want her to think about it, so he did not remind her. He'd just allowed her to rage. Then when she was spent he'd gathered her into his arms and comforted her the only way he knew how.

     “Hey, Duo,” Wufei said, interrupting his thought, “you don't think your little bride ran off do you?”

     “With who? The only guys who aren't here in this transept who aren't related to her are Father Michael and Howard. And yeah, I can just picture that. Can't you?”

     “Maybe she just ran off by herself,” Heero said, as though that were even a possibility. “Maybe she suddenly realized what marriage to you would be like.”

     Duo crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah, Relena told me you're working on getting a sense of humor. Better keep at it, buddy. Anyway,” he went on, because he really was worried, but determined not to show it, “if she'd run away we'd know. Aunt Janice and Aunt Margot would be popping champagne right in the middle of the church.”

     Sylvia and Quatre looked uncomfortable. They didn't approve of the banter, Duo surmised. He didn't either, but it provided an outlet for his growing agitation.

     “Actually,” Wufei said, “I'm surprised she's not more worried about YOU bolting.”

     “Me? Why?”

     “Oh, let's see,” the young man said sarcastically. “You're nineteen, you got her pregnant accidentally, she's the only girl you've ever been with--as far as we know--and her relatives are harpies.”

     In hindsight Duo realized he should have told Wufei to shut up. He also realized that it was agitation--and a healthy dose of tactlessness--that prompted him to say what he said next, but he would not forgive himself. “Yeah, tell me about it,” he joked. “I've always wanted a family, but--Jeez. Wuff, Syl, Tro, Quat, you guys don't apply. But Heero, make sure you use a condom. This is what happens when you get your girlfriend knocked up. I swear, I could be ROLLING in chicks.” Fortunately, there's only one I want, he added silently. Now where the fuck IS she?

     He noticed Sylvia's reaction first. The girl's eyes widened and her cheeks reddened. She bit her lip.

     “Oh, come on,” he said. Then, gently, “Syl, I was kidding. You know I was.”

     “Duo,” said Trowa evenly, “she's not the one you need to explain to.”

     “Eh?”

     He glanced at Trowa, saw that the young man was looking at something behind him. He turned around.

     Oh, fuck.

     Talk about timing.

     “Where--where were you?” he blathered mindlessly. Had Hilde heard him? Oh, yes she had. Her eyes were wide, not with shock, which he could have handled, but with so much pain and confusion that it sucked the breath out of him. She opened her mouth as though to speak, but then closed it again without having made a sound. Her hands curled into fists at her sides. How long did they simply stare each other across the cold stretch of air?

     “Hil...” Duo breathed.

     Before his eyes her confusion boiled over into anger. Her eyes flashed--she had such big, expressive eyes that betrayed her every emotion--and her lips twisted. Then she turned on her heel and stormed out of the transept, past Aunt Janice whom Duo had not even noticed was standing behind her.

     “Nice going,” Heero muttered.

     “Shut up,” Duo growled.

     “What are you going to do?” Quatre inquired softly.

     “Fix this.” He started forward.

     Aunt Janice barred his way. “I heard what you said.”

     “Did it make you happy?” Duo spat. He was tired of this. Hilde had been hurt and once again it was his fault. And this woman stood between them.

     “Actually, it didn‘t.” Her voice was flat, her blue eyes unsmiling. “Do you really think I like to see anyone hurt my niece? I loved my sister,” she went on when he would have interrupted, “and I love her daughter. I lost my own daughter in the war. And my sister, her husband, a nephew...”

     Sugary pink bubble? He distinctly recalled Hilde using that phrase to describe her aunts‘ obliviousness to the world. Well, either Aunt Janice was acting now or she'd been acting then. This woman was hard as nails.

     “Look,” he said, keeping his voice low, peering over her shoulder to try to see Hilde. No luck. “Look, I hated the war, too. I mean, I HATED it. I was IN it. I lost my whole family and my friends. If you want to talk about it later, okay. Right now though, I need to find Hilde.”

     She did not move. “I know what you did during the war.”

     Oh. And, Damn. Well, that explains a few things at least. He felt a flush of anger, and then of shame. “I--” He didn't know what to say to her. WHAT could he say? She'd always hated his guts, he realized, had been looking for a reason to dismiss him and he'd just given her one. He swallowed hard. “I can explain,” he muttered. “Just give me time, okay?” He was floundering, losing his ability to think straight. Hilde, Hilde, his heart wailed. But Aunt Janice's pain and anger rose like a firewall between him and the girl he loved. He closed his eyes. Christ, not this. Out of all the days, why today, and why this?

     “Excuse me.” Wufei shouldered past Duo, planted himself squarely in front of Aunt Janice. “Excuse me,” he said in his most caustic tone, “but did you save the world?” Aunt Janice glared at him, but she was clearly taken aback by the interruption. Wufei went on. “No? Well then, FUCK OFF.”

     Aunt Janice's eyes widened. She took an involuntary step backward. At that moment, Wufei seized Duo roughly by the shoulders and shoved him past the woman. When he started to shout in protest, Quatre seized his arm and propelled him through the transept, out into the main body of Saint Margaret's.

     “Duo, finally, man!” Howard, in an actual suit, completed by Hawaiian print necktie, Birkenstocks, and sunglasses, waved and started forward when they emerged, blinking, into the comparative brightness.

     “Er--” Duo began, but Quatre would not let him stop. “Later, man!” Duo called as he was led past the pews toward the doors.

     Relena, flanked by Mark and Franz, met them at the last row of pews. Her brows were drawn together in consternation, and Hilde's brothers appeared deeply troubled.

     “What did you say to her?” Mark demanded gruffly. Franz clenched his hands into fists.

     “I didn't say anything to HER,” Duo said. “That's the problem. Where is she?”

     “In one of the classrooms,” said Mark. “We tried to stop her, but she just ran right past us. We followed her, but she locked the door and wouldn't let us in.”

     Duo's insides twisted painfully. In all the years he had known her, Hilde had never run away from anything. Not once. “Which room?” It took all his strength to keep his voice steady.

     “Three,” Franz said. “But she might not let you in.”

     “She will.” She has to.

     “Don't forget what we told you this morning,” Mark said sharply, his blue-grey eyes--like his sister's in that they reflected his every emotion--flashing dangerously.

     “I won't. I haven't,” Duo said somberly. He walked past them, through a doorway, and into the dark hallway, Quatre half a step behind.

     “What are you going to do?” Quatre demanded as they walked.

     “I already told you. I'm going to fix this.”

     “Duo.” Quatre put a hand on his shoulder, made him stop. “Are you sure that's the right thing to do?”

     Duo stared at his friend. “What do you mean?”

     Quatre's face reddened. Though he was hardly timid, confrontations were things he avoided, particularly with friends. Still, he managed to say with moderate force, “You're going to do what you always do, aren't you?”

     “What do you mean?” Duo repeated, less patiently.

     Quatre's cheeks dusked further, but he held his ground. “You know what I mean. What you always do. I'm your best friend and I'm--I'm her friend. I know that when the two of you argue you say what you think she needs to hear, and then let it go.”

     Duo sucked in a sharp breath. “She told you that?”

     “Yes. And, well, I sort of guessed.”

     “I don't lie, but I've been known to run and hide.” Duo bowed his head slightly. “It's true. I promised I'd tell her everything about my past and I still haven't. I keep telling myself we have time, we have time, but look at where we are already.” He drew another breath, rested his hands on Quatre's shoulders to steady himself. “I have to make this right.”

     “You have to do what IS right, for herself and for you.”

     He looked down at Quatre again. His wide blue-green eyes seemed to overflow with wisdom and sadness. Whoever would have suspected, he thought a little madly, that he and Quatre Raberba Winner would ever be best friends? The nameless street urchin and the heir apparent. It boggled the mind. He shook himself, cleared his head. Now was NOT the time to wax philosophical. “Of course I have to do what's right. Why wouldn't I?”

     Quatre said, solemnly, softly, “Duo, there wasn't any truth to what you said to Wufei, was there? Ow.” Duo's fingers dug into his shoulders.

     “Sorry.” He let go abruptly, shoved his hands into his pockets, and cast his gaze down the corridor. A light shone dimly from under one of the doors, farther down.

     Hilde.

     “No,” he said quietly.

     “Really, Duo?” Quatre came up to him, his chin by Duo's tall shoulder. “I'm not just asking to be...I don't know. A busybody or anything. You and Hilde are both very important to me. After Trowa, you're probably the most important people in my life. I can't stand the thought of either of you being hurt, whether it's today or sometime down the line.”

     “Hilde is going to have a baby. MY baby.”

     “I know.”

     Something in Quatre's voice made Duo look down at the blond young man sharply. “Quatre, you're not... Are you...?” He couldn't say the word.

     Quatre said it for him. “Jealous? I suppose so. A little. You can get married in a house of worship. You even managed to find a priest who's not only marrying you on two months notice, but who's willing to do it for a couple who conceived a child out of wedlock. Next May you're going to have a perfect, tiny person who's going to look a LOT like you. Some of my own SISTERS won't accept Trowa and me. I don't even know if I COULD have a baby the normal way, coming from L4. I'm jealous. It's not fair.” He avoided Duo's gaze as he spoke. “But that's not why I'm here. Not why I'm telling you this, now. Well, okay, maybe it is, just a little. You--you owe it to me to do this right. And you owe yourself, and Hilde. And your baby. If you're not completely in love with his or her mother...” He trailed off, looked up at Duo. “You have to do what's in your heart. I couldn't bear for you to do otherwise. I love you.”

     Duo arched one eyebrow questioningly.

     “Oh, not like that! Really, you're not my type.”

     With one hand on his face, Duo pulled the other young man closer to him and kissed his brow in a brotherly manner. “Thank you, Quatre. I'll fix this--the right way.”

     “If you don't, I'll kick your ass,” Quatre murmured. “Sorry,” when Duo pulled away and stared at him, “it's what I told Heero when he wasn't sure about Relena. I meant it then and I mean it now.”

     “There will be no kicking of asses. Just hold the wolves at bay. Aunt Margot's somewhere about, and I haven't seen Grandma.”

     “Roger.” Quatre saluted.

     Duo turned on his heel and faced the door.

     Hilde.

     I've been a stupid idiot.

     Time to make this right.

     He walked to the door and knocked, with less strength than he'd intended. For some reason his hand rebelled, made only a pitiful little rap that Duo himself barely heard. Still, three seconds later Hilde's muffled voice demanded, “Who is it?”

     “It's me. Duo. Open up, Hil. We need to talk.”

     There was a moment's silence. Then he heard the click of lock. Then nothing. He waited a second or two, then tried the doorknob. It turned in his hand, and the door opened. It was dark inside the classroom, and cold. Dull grey light from the windows glanced off the sharp corners of desks and book cases, a flagpole. He closed the door behind him.

     “Hil?”

     He was immediately assaulted by small fists. He grunted as one hit him squarely in the gut. “HIL!” he choked. Dammit, he was even stupider than he'd first thought. How could he have thought she'd been hiding here sulking all this time? She'd been hiding all right, but she'd been waiting to ATTACK him!

     “Hil,” he said again, and tried to catch her flailing fists, but it was dark and she moved too quickly; it was like being dive-bombed by a sparrow. He made another grab for her wrists, but she evaded him again and he gave up. She WAS hurting him; there would be bruises all over his arms and abdomen tomorrow, but he let her hit him. She made no sound as she did, but he felt her fury, her pain, in the cold dark air that churned between them.

     Finally she exhausted herself; her blows fell with less ferocity and she cried out in frustration when a few of them struck only air. At that moment, Duo shot his foot out, wrapping it around her ankle, tripping her.

     She fell with a sharp cry, but he turned in time and caught her, held her slight, shaking form against his chest and lowered them both to the cold linoleum.

     She felt very light in his arms, limp and fragile as she had seemed when he had lifted her unconscious body out of her wrecked Taurus almost four years ago. Now, as then, a sense of helplessness and utter inadequacy threatened to consume him. He clutched her more tightly against him, concentrating on her shallow, shaky breaths, her shuddering heartbeat. She was conscious, now. Receptive. He could explain to her, make her understand...

     Could he?

     “I hate you,” she muttered into his hair. “I mean I love you. I hate you. How COULD you?”

     “I'm stupid,” he said, because it was true and because it was the simplest explanation. “I should never have said that. I was freaking out and Wufei and Heero were acting like jackasses, so in all my brilliance I decided I had to act like a jackass, too.”

     “That's not what I mean.” She put her hands on his chest, pulled away from him. In the light from the window her eyes and cheeks glistened with tears. “I mean, how could you let me go along thinking that everything was all right when it wasn't? If you were having second thoughts about the wedding, why didn't you SAY something? It's not like I wouldn't have understood!”

     He stared at her dumbfounded. “But...I want to get married. I proposed, remember? Before I found out about the baby? Like two MINUTES before? You were there, you ought to remember.” Oops--wrong tone, he thought. He hadn't meant to sound sarcastic. But he was starting to think that he did not understand completely what was going on.

     “Do you love me, Duo?” she asked in a small voice.

     “Yes,” he said, relieved that that question at least had a simple answer.

     “Why did you propose to me that night? Tell me the truth.”

     Another easy question. Where was she going with this, he wondered? “Because I love you. And I thought we were ready. I mean, we'd been together for three years. But...I told you all that that night. About how I was afraid of what we had for a while because we could lose it. How I thought of you as my family. Leaps of faith and stuff. None of that's changed. Today and the past week's been shit, but I'm so excited about how it'll be when it's all over. I can't wait to have you alone again. And when the baby comes I'll be the best father, I swear.” Her hands still rested against his chest. He took them in his own, laced his fingers through hers. She let him, but she looked away. He went on softly, “All I've wanted my whole life is a family. You've been that to me. Not just because of the baby. It's YOU. You've shown me how to be more than a Gundam pilot. How to enjoy life. Before I met you, I was so fucked up. I love you. I need you.”

     Her bare shoulders shook. Her bangs fell down over her eyes, so he did not know she was crying until tears splashed his wrists.

     “Now why are you crying?” He let go of one hand, tipped her face up.

     She glared at him. Her eyes seemed full of deadly sharp ice shards. “What about me?”

     “Huh?” As soon as he'd said it, though, understanding clicked. “Wait a minute, are you saying...?” It seemed crazy, but if she knew how much he loved her, wanted her, then what else could it be? “It's not me is it?” he said palely. “It's you.”

     Her eyes blazed defiantly, melting the ice. “Well, think about it! I love you so much it kills me, but at the same time I feel so trapped. I'm scared of having this baby. I mean, I always wanted kids, even when I was a crazy tomboy. But I always thought I'd be at least TWENTY by the time I had one.”

     “So you're saying...you're not ready? You feel rushed.”

     “Damn straight I feel rushed! I feel like--okay, you know how I get when I know I have to get up super-early in the morning and I have trouble sleeping because I'm anxious? I close my eyes, but my heart just keeps racing. I glanced up at the alarm clock, make note of how many hours I'll be able to sleep if I could just nod off in the next minute... But I never do. And I know I'll be miserable and useless in the morning. You know what I'm talking about?”

     He nodded.

     “Well, this is a hundred times worse! I know what's going to happen. It's inevitable. But I can't relax. Can't get comfortable. It's like there's this big ticking clock inside me and I know it's going to go off, but I can't prepare myself for it. You don't really know what it's like. I'm not really showing yet, but I can feel my body...stretching. I can FEEL this little thing inside me and it's getting bigger and I don't know what to DO. I'm scared shitless. I don't want to resent my baby, but right now I do. A little bit, anyway. I'm supposed to be in love with this, and I'm not and I HATE myself for feeling this way. This isn't how it's supposed to be.”

     She was whispering, but each of her words twisted in his heart like a barb. He no longer felt the cold linoleum beneath his bare knees.

     “I'm...so sorry I never told you.” She swallowed hard, clasped his hand against her cheek, turned her head, and kissed it, so that he felt her hot tears on his palm. “I love you. Don't ever think that I don't. I'm just so scared.”

     It was a long time before he could answer her. So many fantasies were crashing and breaking up inside him. Stupid and blind, he berated himself angrily, uselessly. Stupid and blind. All you saw was your own wish coming true. You never even thought about hers. “I'm here, Hil,” he heard himself say, seemingly from a long way off. She stared at him, her eyes so wide and full of tears that she looked as though she were drowning. “I'm here,” he said again, more forcefully this time, and drew her back against him. He held her tightly, rocked her, expelled a breath of relief when her slender arms wound around his chest and she rested her head against his shoulder.

     They held each other for a long time. As they did, Duo spoke, and the words did not come easily, but they were honest and came from the most secret, private corner of his heart. “I'm here,” he told her. “I will always be here. Nothing can happen to you that doesn't happen to me, too. Not any more. I want this kid. I want it so much. But you're more important to me. So if you decide...” It was so hard to say the words, to even think them! “If you decide you don't want this baby...it's not...I mean, it's not that simple. And I'm not okay with that. I don't want you to think that. But it‘s your body, your decision. We can figure it out. Together. Our Helen or our Whoever has got to have two parents who love him or her. And I've got to have you.”

     Hilde murmured, in a voice muffled by his jacket, “Thank you, Duo. I want the baby, too. I'm just scared.” She sighed, turned her head, hugged him tighter. “I just need... I don't even know what I need. For it to be tomorrow. Not to feel like I‘m still fighting a war. You holding me like this is a nice start, though.”

     He managed a smile. “Just tell me what you need, blue-eyed girl.”

     “Keeping holding me.”

     He squeezed her until she gasped. He still felt her heart racing against his chest, felt the subtle tremors that rippled through her frame. His fingertips found the spot between her shoulder blades, and he stroked her there.

     “This is so much,” she whispered. “See, I think part of the problem is, none of this seems real. This wasn't what I was expecting. I mean, it was a dream. To find someone like you. The other girls I knew daydreamed about rich, handsome princes. I always had a much more dangerous angel in mind. I didn't want to be protected or worshipped. I wanted to be inspired. Challenged. I never thought it would actually happen. But I remember the day I met you. You were lounging in that chair on the station, the picture of lazy rebelliousness. You were the dark angel from my dreams and I just HAD to approach you. I LOVE being with you. But at the same time it's frightening. I keep thinking I'll wake up. Lately, I've been almost wishing I would. My fantasy's become a nightmare in some respects.”

     “That's what I've been trying to tell YOU. You were my fantasy, too. When I lost Father Maxwell and Sister Helen I thought, Okay this is it. I'm only here by luck. The war makes a hundred new orphans every day. If I die, one of them will take my place. Whoever thought I'd meet such a gorgeous, smart, sexy girl like you? It's taken a long time to get me to let go of all the garbage I've been holding inside for so long. But it's WORKING, isn't it? So it's got to be real. Your aunts may be harpies,” he told her, deciding that she did not need to know about what her Aunt Janice had said to him, “but everyone else seems to be on our side. Quatre said he'd kick my ass if I hurt you. He actually said that. Gentle Quatre. That's pretty much what your brothers told me this morning, when we were walking. ‘Hurt her and we'll kill you' they said. Your grandma's barely stopped flirting with me since she got here. So you see, we're not alone. Maybe your aunts will come around.”

     “Don't bet on it.”

     “I'm not, but...they haven't exactly seen us at our best, have they? They might change their tune when we exchange vows and I tell you how I feel...in front of all our witnesses. I mean...” And he couldn't keep the hitch out of his voice. “If you still want to go through with it.”

     “Idiot!” She lifted her head, her eyes round with exasperation. “I still want to go through with it. Of course I do. I've loved you since I was fifteen years old.” She smiled tenderly, and tucked an errant lock of chestnut hair behind his ear. “Through this whole thing, that's the only thing I've been sure about. That you have my heart.”

     “The ONLY thing?” He tried to hide his hurt--it was dark, maybe she would not see, he thought fleetingly--but she took his face between her hands, her delicate, callused fingertips tracing his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose, his lips.

     “Two,” she amended softly. “Oh Duo, I--” She interrupted herself by leaning up and kissing him. “I didn't doubt you,” she murmured, her lips brushing the corners of his. “I just kind of...mislaid that bit of information.”

     “MISLAID?” He grabbed her shoulders, put her from him, and shook her once, hard. For a flash he was very angry. “Don't ever mislay me! I mean don't...” when she smiled slightly. “Don't...” He shook his head, his anger gone. He did not, however, release her. “We're a team, Hil. Forget everyone else. It's always been just us, anyway. Christ, we joined forces before the Gundam pilots did. This is how it's got to be. You...me...the baby. Don't you remember? You and me babe,” he sang--croaked, rather--“how about it?”

     Tears tangled in Hilde's lashes. “If that's how you feel,” she said, “why aren't you kissing me?”

     And then he was kissing her, and she was kissing him back, fiercely, possessively. While his lips moved brandingly over her cheeks and forehead, her hands played over his face, down his shirt, to where his kilt spilled over his knees, hungry for the heat of his skin. It had been days since they had been alone together, had held each other like this. Too long. Far too long.

     Her hand bunched in his kilt, pushed it up over his knees. He gasped when the cold air hit his thighs and then again when her hand slipped between them skillfully. She writhed in his embrace, sleek as a cat, playful and dangerous at once. She weighed NOTHING, he thought, as he pulled her into his lap. And yet she was so delightfully warm and solid, not a ghost, not a dream.

     She threw her head back; her neck gleamed in the grey light. He moved aside the teardrop-shaped pearl and kissed the hollow of her throat.

     “You know,” he murmured against her skin, while he caressed her tummy, which was beginning to soften, and her small breasts, “I feel as though we're already married. Like we married each other a long time ago. This whole thing today is just a show. So let's give them a show. God's the only witness we need.”

     Her eyes flew open wide. “Duo, we can't have sex in a church!” She pushed his hands away, tried to rise.

     He pulled her back down. “Who says?”

     “I don't know! But it's wrong. And everyone is waiting.” She threw her arms around his neck. “Tomorrow we'll be on a shuttle for New York and then we can do whatever we want. But NOW would be totally inappropriate.”

     It was clear, however, that she had as little desire to stop as he did. She purred when he stroked her back, hissed when his hand stole up her thigh.

     “Du-Ooohhh,” she moaned, grasping his hair, rising to her knees and straddling his hips.

     “Grandma,” he gulped.

     “ExCUSE me?” She lifted her head. “That's not funny!”

     “Damn straight it's not!”

     Hilde glanced over her shoulder. “Gram!”

     Audrey Voss stood in the doorway.

     Hilde emitted a small squeak of alarm and began frantically to pull her skirt down and her straps up simultaneously.

     “Stop wriggling--ow!” Duo grabbed her and held her before him as a shield.

     “People are starting to worry,” Hilde's grandmother said in a pleasant, bemused tone. “There was talk of murder. I wanted to give you time to get everything off your chests, but I think it was time for me to interrupt.”

     Hilde spluttered indignantly, “Just how long were you listening?!”

     “Long enough to know that I don‘t need to run back to the apartment for my shotgun. Kitten, your straps are twisted. Duo, you have lipstick on your neck.” She pulled a handkerchief out of her purse and began to swipe at his neck with it.

     “Hey, hey!” he protested.

     “There's no time to get you two spruced,” Grandma Audrey went on, ignoring his protests. She smoothed his tousled hair. “Just as well.”

     “But people will think we were making out,” Hilde said.

     “Or fighting,” Duo grunted.

     “As as I said this morning, So?” Having finished with Duo, she turned her full attention to Hilde, tucking loose hairs in place, smoothing the wrinkles in her skirt. “From what I heard, it's not so important what the rest of us think.”

     “That's not true.” Duo rose swiftly. “It's really important to us. Just, if people don't approve, we're going to do it anyway. Because we love each other. And we're up for it.”

     “Gram, I'm FINE.” Hilde wiped off her remaining lipstick with the back of her hand. “There's nothing you can fix. I'm always going to look like me.”

     Grandma Audrey wrapped her arm around Hilde's shoulders, pulled her close and kissed her on the cheek. Then she did the same to Duo. He blushed and stammered for a moment, then kissed her back with more solemnity than Hilde would have thought him capable of at that moment.

     She threw her arms around her grandmother.

     “It'll be all right, kitten,” the older woman said. “I approve, and if your parents were here, they would approve, too. So, let's get going.” She disentangled herself from Hilde, took the girl's hand, and placed it in Duo's.

     The two young people looked at each other. “Ready?” Duo asked, sounding breathy and nervous, but his eyes sparkled.

     “If you are,” Hilde said, lifting her chin defiantly. He squeezed her hand, and she grinned. “I'm still a little scared!” she admitted. “But yeah, I'm ready. I said I'd marry you for fun, didn't I?”

     “So you did. Although I like to think that's not the ONLY reason. Let's do it, babe.”

     It was chilly on the roof. Wind whipped Hilde's skirt about her legs and she clung to Duo, wrapped her arms around his chest under his jacket and hid her head against him when a swift gust of wind struck.

     Despite the cold, it was a beautiful night. The clouds had parted to reveal a sky full of stars, which even the yards upon yards of Christmas lights and Oriental lanterns that her friends had strung up along the roof could not dim. The crisp air tasted of champagne, of ocean spray, of winter. But it would be all right, she thought as she held her husband close. Winter yields to spring, and everything will be all right.

     Quatre and Relena had done a good job of transforming the roof of Duo and Hilde's apartment into a reception hall. Hilde had no idea how they had transported the table and chairs, and did not want to think about what dangerous feats had no doubt been involved. There was food: miniature gourmet pizzas, sashimi, fruit salads, tortilla chips and guacamole and fiery hot salsa, her grandmother's apple pie and cherry strudel. Howard stood by the hibachi grilling Portobello mushrooms and veggie burgers for those who wanted them and pouring sparkling cider (Duo had laid down the law that until Hilde could drink alcohol again, no one could).

     There was a music box, and Howard seemed to be in charge of that as well. All of the old musicians that Hilde loved--the Beatles, Billy Joel, Bob Marley--filled the air with their music and couples swayed together under the many-colored lights.

     Franz had finally worked up the nerve to ask Relena to dance with him, and she had accepted. Both Hilde's brother and his beautiful partner seemed oblivious to Heero Yuy's wrathful gaze. He was partnered with Audrey Voss, who seemed pleased to be on the arm of such a handsome, albeit distracted and taciturn, young man. Hilde heard her say calmly, as they swung by, “Please do not kill my grandson.” And Heero grunted, “I don't kill people any more.”

     Wufei had left immediately after the ceremony, to Duo's disappointment. Well, maybe some things were not meant to be. Anyway, Mark was keeping Sylvia Noventa company. They stood by the buffet table chatting. Hilde could not hear what they were saying, but Sylvia did not appear bored. Well, why should she? Mark was smart, cute, a recent Reed College graduate. And Sylvia was almost halfway through her first year at Smith. Why hadn't she thought of them earlier?

     “Hey.”

     They looked up. Quatre and Trowa had come up beside them.

     “Hey yourselves,” Duo said, grinning. “You guys are awesome. Really.”

     “I seem to recall,” Quatre said airily, his head resting against Trowa's shoulder, “someone telling me he'd marry his girlfriend, providing I got married first.”

     “You said that? When?” Hilde and Trowa asked at the same time.

     “A long time ago!” Duo laughed. “And I wasn't SERIOUS. I was just trying to get you to admit what we all suspected of you from the start. But what can I say? I got tired of waiting for you.”

     “I think we're weddinged out at any rate,” Trowa said, looking slightly uncomfortable. “It was a good ceremony, though. Congratulations. We're going to miss you on the Preventers. But I guess you‘re going to have a family, soon, so you want something more stable. The garage thing sounds good.”

     Hilde happened to glance at Quatre just then, saw his slight flinch. You two are already a family, she thought, wondering if his Heart of Outer Space could hear her. Everything will work out for you.

     She was never to know if he heard, for Duo drew her attention just then, clapping Trowa on the back and saying with an air of bewilderment, “Gee, thanks, man. That's probably the most you've ever said to me. Didn't gay originally mean...you know, HAPPY and all? Quatre, what are you doing with this stiff?”

     “I like him stiff,” Quatre replied, smiling. Trowa flushed and bit his lip.

     Duo turned brick red. “Oh my god. Fuck me if I didn't just hand you that one on a silver platter!”

     Hilde pinched his backside. “I'll fuck you even though you did.”

     He clasped her face between his hands, leaned down and kissed her hard, nearly sucking the breath out of her, while Trowa and Quatre leaned against each other and laughed.

     When Duo came up for air his face was slightly less red, but he still looked flustered. Hilde looked into his face and thought, You were my fantasy, but our life is not a fantasy. She was sad that her aunts had felt that they would not be welcome at her reception. She hoped she would able to make things right between them some day soon. But in the meantime, there were her brothers--love struck Franz had finally relinquished Relena to her boyfriend and Mark had taken over Howard's position by the music box--and there was her grandmother, carving apple pie for her guests. Here were her friends, and here was the man she loved, and he was smiling happily, and she was in his arms and everything would be all right.

* * * *

     Now she is in a car, driving south along the Pacific coast. The briny wind whips her hair, which is twisted into a knot at the nape of her neck (she is growing it out). On one side of the road the ocean is deep blue, shiny as cut glass flecked with lacy white foam. On the other side scarlet, yellow, purple, and white flowers leap up from the grass like rockets. It is summer, and she and her family are heading to Oregon to visit her eldest brother and his girlfriend. Her grandmother will be there as well, and maybe one of her aunts. She is not sure, but she hopes.

     Duo unbuckles his seatbelt, leans into the backseat and plays with Helen's bare toes. The black-haired baby girl waves her tiny fists, squeals and burbles happily. Hilde steals a glance at the pair. How beautiful they look together!

     How could she ever have doubted Duo's devotion to her or to their child? And how could she have doubted she would fall in love with her baby? Helen's birth had not been easy but Duo had held her through the whole thing and the pain, the blood, all her fear had seemed so insignificant from the moment she first held her daughter. She thought she had understood love, but she had not. Not until that moment. When those blue eyes looked up into hers... She thought she would die. It was that overpowering.

     And Duo feels the same way, she knows. Now they are united as never before. Their goal, their purpose is so clear-cut it tears their hearts thinking about it. Helen is the future, the thing they have been fighting for since they were children. So in a way they are still fighting a battle, but it is one they understand, one they can even be proud of. And they are on the same side, and always will be.

     Things are working out for them, although it‘s not always easy. She doesn't love the garage, but she's done the work before, and the pay is decent. Duo will probably stick with it because he‘s good at it, but she's beginning to look into other things. The other day she wandered into a college bookstore and began thumbing through textbooks, feeling little thrills of excitement in her belly. Who knows, she thinks. There are scholarships. It's an idea.

     Duo turns around, flops against the back of his own seat. “I'm telling you she has your eyes,” he says.

     “All babies have blue eyes at first,” she reminds him. “Buckle your seatbelt.”

     He complies. “Well, hers will stay blue.”

     Hilde says nothing, only smiles.

     Is it possible to be fighting a battle and to be at peace simultaneously? Maybe this is what is meant by a separate peace, she thinks, as the late afternoon sunlight slants down from the mountains, flecking the waves with gold. A peace that has nothing to do with treaties or standing armies, that two people find and protect on their own with the strength of their love and their devotion to their vows.

     She feels Duo's gaze upon her and looks at him, keeping one eye on the road. He winks and she feels her cheeks grow hot. All this time, and he still has that power over her. And he understands. She knows he does.

     He leans over, kisses her cheek, squeezes her knee.

     She thinks about the books she read as a girl, all the faerie stories her grandmother and mother--yes, she remembers that far back--told her. She never believed in happy endings or in happily ever after because she knew that real endings were not, by nature, happy. But now she knows that there are an infinite number of beginnings. And as winter yields to spring and day yields to evening, even a thing as terrible as a war can yield something beautiful.

     She covers his hand with her own.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~