*Setting: A little bit after the war is completely over. Earth. The boys are now young men. ^_^

Blue eyes opened wearily. He longed to stretch his limbs as much like a feline as he could though he knew if even so much as an inch of his flesh was exposed to the air around him he would surely freeze. He sighed in annoyance as he pulled the blanket tighter around his body and turned to his side.

It was winter in Chicago, not the best place to be if one wasn't fond of a high temperature of zero. In the same book, it wasn't the place to be if one didn't happen to enjoy the feet of snow that had dumped down on the city.
Weather reporters had been calling Chicago's current condition an "unusually low pressure system" though most locals called it Hell frozen over.

Heero had, at first, thought the weather to be of interest. He'd never lived in an area where snow was so frequent nor so heavy. And white! The kind of pure white that would blind a person if they were to stare at it long enough. Though no one in the city really stopped to appreciate the beauty of the white powder on every rooftop and window sill. Everyone was about business, school, or some insufferable sport called 'basketball'. Though, as Heero had considered the very subject, he supposed that the bums (hobos, homeless, no-good sponges of society -- as some referred to them) certainly spent enough time looking at, living in, and walking through the stuff.

Heero pulled the blanket around himself even tighter, determined to make a human cocoon. The only saving grace of the busy, loud, annoying and cold city was that he was alone. As alone as he could get, he supposed. Which was enough, because truthfully, he liked the little company he sported. Though that was it. No guests, no co-workers over for friendly banter, no neighbors over to borrow a cup of flour, no one.

After the war, the parties, banquets, and get-togethers had become tedious. Especially after one party in particular. Heero chalked it up to having been around the same four people four nearly two years and growing bored of their company. That's what he told them at any rate, in so many kind words.

When Heero had had enough time to really look at his situation though, really look at it, he knew he was lying. Lying to the only people he'd considered friends in his life, to the other's that had helped in the war and become allies -- if not friends themselves -- but mostly, he was lying to himself.

On so many of the cold, cold winter nights, Heero would sit by the small window of his apartment, wrapped in his electrical blanket (he'd taken to watching just how he treated his body), staring at the insufferable snow and thinking. It was on the very first night of that ritual that Heero had realized he hadn't left the security of his friends and allies because he needed some time alone, he'd left because he knew, he knew! that he would no longer be accepted.

He'd always been the one they'd all wondered about. How could one person harbor such an icy personality, a cool, tactical mind, and outstanding fighting abilities and not finally break down? They were never quite sure -- even after he considered them the closest things to 'friends' he'd ever had -- if he would ever finally snap. Some of that was due to the fact that he piloted his gundam with the Zero system, the very system that had invaded Quatre's mind, and actually succeeded with it. But some of it was simply because Heero was Heero, the only person ever like him and they were never quite sure how to act around him.

It was on that night, when his grave realization struck, that he'd broken down, for the first time in his life. The perfect soldier, the strong warrior, the Zero System pilot had broken down and held his head in his hands as loud sobs wracked his body and tears escaped through the cracks of his fingers.

Heero tugged on his blanket in frustration. The heating element in it had seemed to break down nearly a month ago, though it was fickle, he cold have sworn he was warmer when he went to bed. He growled as he realized that he wasn't going to fall back to slumber nor get any warmer. With a loud sigh, he threw down the cover and swung his legs over the side of he bed. A breath hissed between his teeth as his feet padded along the nearly-frozen floor of his apartment. He flipped the heater on, full blast (which was not much more than a warm breeze), as he walked to the bathroom. He reached a weary hand out to turn the icy knob within his shower unit. Suppressing a shiver, he ignored the cold water knob and turned the hot water full blast. Heero glowered at the spout as it refused to spit anything but chilly water from its head. Finally, after long moments, steam was rising from the water stream. With a sigh, he shed his thick, flannel pajamas as fast as he dared before he all but leapt under the warm fall of water.

He grabbed the bar of soap nearby and began the slow task of rubbing suds all over his body. His hand froze as he reached his midsection. Slowly, ignoring the blast of water hitting his face, he turned his gaze to look where his hand was. He carefully set the soap back on its small shelf before he rested both hands on his just-more-than-slightly bulging belly. A smile formed on his lips.

    "'Morning, little one. You slept well last night, I can tell, I didn't worship the porcelain gods this morning." A tender look rested in his eyes. A look, that by most, had never and would never be seen. He reserved it only for his precious company, the weight he gladly bore.

    "My baby," Heero rubbed the bulge affectionately, glad for the privacy he had to share only with his growing child. "You've grown, little one, it's going to be a struggle getting into my pants." He sighed softly, rubbing small circle patterns on his abdomen.

His voiced dropped to a solemn tone. "I won't ever leave you, baby, never." He leaned against the wall of the shower. "I know you need care... But anyone would take you away. And the other pilots?" He stared at his belly for a few moments. "One of them is your father, little one. I would tell him but..." His breath hitched suddenly and he cursed mentally, berating himself for falling victim to another sudden attack of hormones.

    "No one would understand. We're different. But we're together, baby -- my baby-- and that's all we need."

He let the tears slip silently down his face before he finished his washing and snapped out of his reverie of sorts. He made short of dressing (Owning only two pairs of casual slacks that fit) though dallied when it came to breakfast. Lately he'd been fickle about what he wanted to eat, craving the strangest foods. He settled for oatmeal and milk, though, realizing his kitchen to be nearly empty.

He was just heading for his briefcase when a loud knock sounded on his door.

Chicago, a city that never sleeps it seemed. So, he wasn't the only crazed person in the apartment building who made an hour's commute, waking at five to do so. But why would someone knock on his door?

He had just passed the threshold of his bedroom door when he received his answer.

A person would come knocking on his door at nearly five thirty in the morning because that person, persons, he amended, were none other then Quatre Winner and Duo Maxwell.

Heero managed a quiet, and quite surprised, "Hello," before the baby within him responded to his near panic with a hard kick, causing him to rest his hand on his not-yet-obscenly distended belly and sink to the floor.

    "Hee-chan!" Duo had exclaimed at the sound of Heero's voice, only to turn and see the former Wing pilot slide to the floor, loosing color as he did so.

Quatre had turned before Duo and immediately noticed that, despite obvious efforts, Heero's belly pushed against his clothing. Quatre gasped, hand flying to his mouth.

Duo mimicked Quatre's gasp, though left out the hand.

Heero stared at the others with a blank look on his face. "What are you doing here? How did you find me?"

Quatre spoke before Duo, amazingly. "H-Heero, we were worried about you. No calls, no e-mails even..."

    "Yeah," Duo nodded.

    "But," Heero fumbled for words at his apparent shock. "How?"

Quatre nodded at his question. "I told the social services it was a matter of life and death--"

    "He flashed his money in their faces," Duo grinned.

Quatre blushed. "Yes, well, they told me where you last registered your home with your bosses, and here we are." The young man's face blushed a deeper red. "I tried to call first, but your phone line was always busy."

Heero nodded. "The neighbor uses it for his internet access, he pays the bill." He offered numbly, nearly hugging the doorjamb.

Duo stepped forward slowly and squatted in front of Heero. "Heero, man, you look b-"

    "Healthy!" Quatre cut in, tapping Duo on the back of the head before sinking down next to Heero and offering a weak smile.

Heero's hand immediately went again to his belly, resting there. Looking down at his hand, a tiny smile crossed Heero's face. "I'm pregnant," he whispered.

No further words were exchanged. Duo timidly reached out his hand and touched Heero's belly. His face paled as a small kick brushed against his touch. He nodded, blinking a few times, before falling onto his butt and staring dumbly at Heero.
Quatre didn't move to touch Heero's stomach, he merely stared, a look of first shock, then happiness crossed his face.

    "Come back with us, Heero, I'm sure the others would want to know."

At Quatre's soft voice a look that cold only be construed as horror passed over the once stoic soldier's face before he scampered up and made his way to the main door. "No!" His voice was barely below a shout. "I'm not going back!" At Quatre and Duo's confused looks he continued shortly. "I can't -- you wouldn't understand. I've got to go to work now... bye."

With that, Heero made his exit, leaving behind two very shocked and confused former pilots.

So, how's THAT for crap? -_- I really shouldn't write GW fics during the wee hours. ANYway... there will be more of this, if anyone asks for it. Anyone curious as to the father of his kid is? ^_^V

TBC

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