Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Deadly Beautiful ❯ Chinese Terrorists and Chinese Cuisine ( Chapter 16 )

Disclaimer: I use these characters without permission, and despite the fact that no one involved is being paid, they're not complaining.

Deadly Beautiful - Chapter 16

By danse

The diner was noisy and bustling; waitresses hurried between tables and the kitchen, carrying trays and notebooks. Patrons sat in booths along the windows, talking and laughing without a care in the world. Two small children were playing a complicated sort of hide-and-seek among booths and potted plants while their parents ate pancakes with syrup.

In sharp contrast to the merriment and noise, one booth was occupied only by a silent young man. He had long, jet-black hair that was pulled back in a severe ponytail, and was wearing a plain white T-shirt and khaki pants over well-worn runners. He was nursing his second cup of green tea as he stared at the green vinyl back of the bench opposite him, lost in thought.

You might not have been able to tell just by looking at him, but the young man was a descendant, and the sole heir, of a Chinese family whose influence had affected their home country since the Qu Dynasty. He had already been married into the incredibly powerful Long clan, a move which was meant to gain his family even more power and influence among a constantly changing Chinese regime. Unfortunately, along with the fluctuation of power among the leadership of the country, other changes had occurred much closer to home. Now, instead of practicing kung fu or reading philosophy, which were his two favourite activities, he was sitting in a crowded diner in New Jersey, wondering when the person he was meeting today was going to show up.

He frowned and sipped his tea. At home, people would have been granted an audience with him, not the other way around. And they wouldn't be an hour late, either. His temple throbbed a little, as if experimenting to see how close he could be pushed to the edge of his patience. Didn't those kids' parents have any respect for other people? Their children were laughing and yelling quite loudly.

His thoughts drifted aimlessly as he stared at the green vinyl seat. He thought of his last mission, five days ago. It had gone amazingly well, despite the trouble he'd had with one of the commanding officers at the base. She was resilient, but not nearly enough to defeat him.

Too emotional, that's all, he thought. If she hadn't let feelings get in the way of actions, she might still have an army. This was not regret at what he'd done, nor was it sympathy or pathos. It was a casual observation, unbiased and emotionally detached. In his experience, emotion crippled more than bullets or broken bones ever could. Fear, anger, frustration, sadness...love. Women always seemed more prone to strong emotion than men. He could never understand why women always seemed to be put in positions where emotional outbursts could stand between them and victory. Why take the risk when a man could be counted on to do the job more efficiently? It was a waste of lives.

If only they'd kept her back...maybe two less lives would have been wasted... The thought assaulted him from dark parts of his brain, parts he kept quarantined. The thought wasn't talking about the female officer at the base he'd destroyed; not anymore. He took a deep breath to keep the pain at bay, then another one when it didn't seem to work. Not here...not now... He stared into the depths of his ceramic mug, breathing slowly, fighting to stay in control. Eventually, he calmed into a meditative state, not thinking about anything in particular. He stared at his tea. This was a safe way to be. No thoughts...

"...Mr. Chang?"

The young man's head snapped up; it took a few blinks to get his fuzzy brain to focus on the man who'd spoken. Then he nodded curtly, and glared. "You're an hour late," he snapped.

The older man sat down across from him and waved a waitress over. "Have you eaten?" he asked, dodging the accusation bluntly.

They ordered lunch, and sat with coffee and fresh tea to begin their meeting. The elder man, who was a little on the pudgy side, sipped at his coffee, then added cream and two packets of Sugar Twin. After another test sip, he deemed it good enough to drink, and took a bigger sip, smiling into his cup.

Too impatient to wait for the end of this ritual, the young man leaned in, closing the distance between them, and said in a low voice, "What have you got for me on Kushrenada?"

His informant sighed. "Wufei, you have to learn to appreciate the finer things in life. Sunshine, cool breezes, good coffee, conversation..."

"If you'd shown up an hour ago, I might have had time for all that," Wufei retorted.

"Okay, okay," the informant said, and put down his coffee reluctantly to pick up his briefcase. Setting it on the seat beside him, he opened it up and removed a manila envelope, which he pushed across the table. Wufei picked it up an instant before a salad appeared in front of him. He smiled tolerantly at the waitress until she moved away.

As soon as she was safely gone, he opened it and pulled out a dossier and a stack of glossy photographs, which he pored over hungrily while his companion watched him over a club sandwich, his eyes twinkling with merriment.

"Does it pass muster, captain?" the informant asked when Wufei had finished reading.

Wufei looked up at him with eyes as dark as drowning pools. "Your money's in its usual place," he answered before tucking into his salad.

Ninety-two miles away from the diner in New Jersey, Hilde was in a diner in New York City, trying to convince the burly cook that they really needed her as a waitress in their establishment.

"I can clean, smile, and talk to people, and I can remember hugely long lists of orders! I can balance a tray in one hand!" She was getting a bit frantic, as this was her third day of job hunting, and she still hadn't been successful, despite covering what seemed like every place that employed people within twenty blocks of Duo's apartment. This was not the first time today that she had almost resorted to begging on her knees. "Please!"

"No references, no job," the cook said, and walked back into his kitchen, effectively ending the conversation.

Hilde's whole face dissolved into helpless anguish, and she barely kept herself from collapsing on the counter in tears. Instead, she dragged herself out of the diner, scowling at the tinkly bell on the door, and shuffled dejectedly down the street, away from her fifth rejection that afternoon.

She wandered aimlessly for a while, looking for a distraction to lift her spirits, and settled for a bench near a playground, where she sat and dully watched children playing Marco Polo. She watched as they climbed on the brightly-coloured jungle gym like monkeys, and listened as they laughed and yelled. She felt the warm sun on the back of her neck, and after a while, her spirits lifted. Not much, but she decided she wasn't depressed anymore. After a few moments of peace, she decided to try addressing her problems again, a little more rationally this time. With a deep breath, she took two large mental steps back and tried to look at the situation in a different light.

Right now, she was in a better position than she'd been in for the last few years. She was warm, dry, and fed. There was a roof over her head, and she was healthy and clean. Unfortunately, she wasn't sure how much longer she could last unless she found a job.

She'd been basically freeloading for the last four days, living in Duo's apartment, eating his food, using his shower, and sleeping in his living room. Every night, he asked her if she'd found a job yet with increasing worry on his face and in his voice. Hilde had recently had the best stroke of luck ever, and she knew that this was her only chance to start over, but she was deathly afraid of wearing out her welcome. Besides, she really liked Duo. A lot.

He was easily the nicest, most sensitive guy she'd ever met, and he didn't automatically try to take advantage of her. She'd even tried to bribe him to stay out of trouble, and he'd refused. This was a fairy tale to her. She wanted to find work, to repay him for his hospitality, but she also wanted to stay near him. She was sure that they could make it work, and she wanted to take things slowly. She wanted this to mean something.

Hilde had done a lot of things in the past, to survive, and there weren't many of them that she felt proud of. Her body was no temple, and she felt dirty when she stood next to Duo. But that was the great thing about love, wasn't it? It could burn out all of the unclean and unkind parts and leave something whole, and pure, and alive. It could make you feel like you were worth something.

The children had all been called into their houses for supper. Hilde grinned for the first time that day as she got up and walked back home.

"So..." Duo said nonchalantly as he picked at his chicken fried rice. They were eating Chinese takeout on the couch, watching a sitcom on TV. He put down his chopsticks and took a swig of Coke. "Did you have any luck today?"

Hilde winced slightly as she put her own Coke down on the coffee table. She pulled her legs underneath her and shifted so that she was sitting cross-legged. "No. I can't get a job anywhere without references."

The laugh track from the TV show muffled Duo's "Hmmm," a bit, and he ate some more rice as he stared moodily at the screen.

She watched him apprehensively, and took a bite of ginger beef, thinking. She'd had an idea an hour ago, and now seemed like as good a time as any to present it. She swallowed, then turned to him and started her speech. "Hey, do you think that since I don't have any employer references, maybe, at the right place, I could give a personal character reference," she was in the home stretch now, "from somebody who I've been in close contact with, if they're an employee in good standing at that company?" She finished in a bit of a rush, the words tumbling over each other.

Duo nodded into his food. "Sounds like a good idea," he said absently. "Where were you planning on--" He looked at her and saw his question answered by the hopeful look on her face. She looked a bit like a lost puppy, and she was giving him the innocent, watery doe eyes...which hadn't failed to work on him so far. He blinked, then stabbed his chopsticks into his carton of rice with exasperation. "I don't think we have any positions free," he said.

"I can do anything! Type, file, make coffee! Please! Just ask for me! What harm can that do?" More desperation, she thought with a little shame, but she was beyond being deterred by things like shame at this point.

"I--Well--" Duo finally shut his mouth, seeing that no coherent sentence he wanted to form was going to make that look leave her face. "Alright, I'll ask tomorrow," he said, attacking his rice with renewed fervor and trying to lose himself in the TV show in front of him.

Hilde took another bite of ginger beef, silently doing a victory dance in her head.