The Greatest of These

All previous disclaimers apply.

“Well, good morning, Sweetheart,” Duo smiled tiredly as he walked into his bedroom to see the baby sitting up, rubbing her eyes, and looking as if she wanted to cry. Only, unlike most kids he knew, Quatre and Trowa’s kids and Relena and Heero’s twins, she didn’t cry. She just looked up at him, her eyes miserable. His eyebrows went up and his breath hitched when she held out her arms in an unquestionable demand that he pick her up.

“So, you want up, huh?” Duo swallowed harshly and moved to the bed, lifting her awkwardly, “Why was this so much easier for me when you were asleep?” The baby made things easy on him and settled comfortably on his shoulder, laying her head against his neck and sniffling.

“So, what’s up, Sweetheart? Why do you look so sad? Huh? Don’t suppose you could tell me. What is it babies want? Food, sleep, or . . . oh. Diaper?” He gave her bottom a pat and grimaced, “Yep. Diaper. So, let’s see what Daddy has in this bag, huh?” With one hand, he lifted the flap and his eyes widened, “Shit, Sweetheart. These things are real. Leave it to your dad. What’s wrong with velcro? Huh, Sweetheart? Velcro’s not such an evil thing, is it? All right, let’s see what we can do about this, huh? Okay. Here we go.”

Ten minutes, and a seemingly very amused baby, later the diaper sagged just a little bit at the bottom, but generally stayed in place as Duo picked the baby up and surveyed his handiwork. After realizing that this funny new man was going to be changing her diaper Sheira had decided to like him. She had smiled and kicked at his numerous attempts at her diaper before successfully completing it, but she had been so good-natured that Duo had been laughing as well and the task that seemed like such a chore when he changed the diapers of his other friend’s children had become less of a chore and more of an amusement. Amazingly. After the completion of the diaper she looked up at him with an expectancy that left him a little confused.

“Okay, so we got the diaper thing done. What do you want now? What would I want now?” His stomach growled as if to answer his question. “Breakfast! Right on! Let’s see what we’ve got here.” He dove into the bag with one hand and pulled out a can. “Formula. Good. Nutritious and delicious, huh, Sweetheart? Let’s see. Empty bottle. Bottle liners? What the hell do you use these things for? Oh, wait, I see. Goes inside to cut down on the washing. Hell, Sweetheart, we don’t mind a little washing do we? Nah. Probably makes it taste bad too, huh? So, we’ll wash. What else? You look a little old to be satisfied with just formula.” He set down the bottle liners next to the formula on his dresser, unconsciously placed a kiss to Sheira’s forehead, and reached into the bag again.

“Infant cereal. Looks like cream of wheat to me. Must be better for you though. Strained peas. Yum.” He made a face and was graced by one of the baby’s cherubic smiles. “This one doesn’t look too bad, especially for breakfast. Bananas. Okay, so we’ve got the makings of breakfast here. Formula for a bottle, cereal, and bananas. I think Lena would be proud of me. I just hope that by doing all this for you she won’t expect me to baby-sit when she has her next baby. Did I tell you that, Sweetheart? Lena and Heero are gonna have another baby. Heero called me, just about as happy as I’ve ever seen him, a couple of days ago. I don’t think they’ve told anyone else yet. Though she’s already three months along. I guess they just don’t want to get their hopes up. After all, she’s had such a hard time conceiving and carrying after the twins’ delivery was so hard. Well, Sweetheart, you might not be such a good conversationalist, but you do listen really well. I think that’s the most I’ve said in a single conversation for months. Okay, let’s see what we’ve got here. Oh, this is the easy stuff. It’s the same stuff that Quatre and Trowa used for Briseis. I guess she was just about your age when they adopted her. I know how to do this stuff. But, what to do with you?”

Duo gathered the supplies he’d need and placed them in the middle of the blanket that Sheira had been wrapped in. She made things simple on him by settling comfortably on his hip as he grabbed things out of the bag he assumed to be toys for her to play with and added those. Then, gathering the corners of the blanket he carried her through the small house, checking briefly that Wu Fei was still sleeping, then into the kitchen. She seemed perfectly content as he laid the blanket on the floor and set her on it, surrounded by her toys. He chattered conversationally as he made her breakfast, turning every once in a while to check on her. Most of the time when he turned he found her sitting on the blanket, clutching a stuffed dog almost as big as herself, and simply watching him contentedly. The amazing smile she flashed him every time he turned made his heart skip a beat.

“You know,” he crouched next to her, “You really are beautiful, Sweetheart. Your mom was beautiful, too. I . . . I don’t hold it against her that your dad fell for her. It’s just . . . well, I’ve kinda been head over heels in love with your daddy for a long time and I never saw them as a couple. You’re an unexpected surprise, in other words. But, you’re a good one. Don’t get me wrong. Why am I telling you this stuff? You don’t understand. But, one thing I know you will understand. Breakfast time.”

He agonized over the problem of having no high chair for just a minute before deciding that he could feed the baby just as well if he sat her on his lap facing toward him, one hand supporting her back and holding her up and the other used for feeding. She smiled sweetly and took the first few bites of the breakfast without complaint, but after she was no longer as hungry, began to play more than eat. In the end, the result of all of his coaxing and all of her refusal resulted in three quarters of the cereal and fruit in her and the other quarter spread over his chest and her face and hair. He couldn’t help but laugh, she was so sweet about everything and was not angry at all as he called into work and explained that a recently widowed old friend had come by and wasn’t doing so well. The secretary, then his female boss had assumed that this friend was a woman and he had done nothing to correct their misconception. He had become a hero in their eyes for offering to stay with his “poor, sweet” friend and take care of her “darling angel.” His boss had instructed him to take “absolutely as long as you need to help your friend get back on her feet.” He assured her that he would be back in just a few days, then thought of Wu Fei’s condition.

“Cammi?” He was hesitant to ask so much of his boss. She had gone out on a real limb by hiring him when he’d first come looking for a job. He’d had no experience what so ever in advertising when he’d walked into the office. She, a devoted wife and mother of four, had thought he was cute and had given him a personal interview. He had managed to charm her enough into a job as a general delivery and go-getter. Slowly, he had learned enough to make his own presentation to her for a huge account that had beat out her other options. And her clients had loved it. So, he had gone from being the delivery boy to being one of the most successful agents in the firm, well on his way to a vice presidency. He didn’t want to have to ask her any more favors, but it wasn’t every day that the man he was in love with collapsed in his front door and needed desperately to be nursed back to health.

“Yeah, Duo?” she asked. He could hear in her voice how busy she was. Probably going over the new sketches for the Millerson account. He could picture her, balancing the phone between her ear and shoulder, silently turning the horrible ideas away while comparing the good ones, every once-in-a-while touching a finger to the framed family portrait on her desk, dreaming of the summer vacation to Mexico she and her husband had planned for themselves and their children that summer. He really hated to ask her this, but he had to.

“First of all, the friend . . . isn’t a woman. It’s a man. He’s a friend . . . from the war.”

Cammi was the only person he had trusted in what he called his “new life” who knew about who and what he’s been during the war years. The fact that she hadn’t run screaming and still allowed him to baby-sit her kids was what made them such good friends. One day while he was working a coworker had opened a bottle of champagne to celebrate the landing of a big account. He had been working late everyday for two weeks preparing for a presentation of his own and had had two hours of sleep in seventy-two when it had happened. The popping of the cork had regressed his tired mind to the war and gunshots and the Deathscythe and the losing of friends and killing. He had reached for the gun he no longer kept in the back of his pants and had begun to panic, feeling as if he was trapped. When one of he coworkers, a large black man with a genuinely nice personality, had noticed his strange behavior, he had approached Duo. In his panic and war clouded mind, Duo had lashed out at him, nearly breaking his arm. Then, he had blacked out. When he had come to, the same man had laid him on the couch in Cammi’s office and she had been gently dabbing him with a cold compress.

“Oh, gods,” he had sat up, a titanic headache making him a little dizzy, “What happened?”

“Oh, I’d say you had a huge panic attack and regressed to your years in the war.” Cammi had watched his reaction carefully and he hadn’t disappointed.

“I didn’t hurt anyone, did I? God, I thought I was over all of this.”

“Duo, how old are you?”

“Twenty-two. Why?”

“So, that would have made you a Gundam pilot,” she had whispered.

“Yeah, I . . . wait. How did you know?”

“Well, Duo, I wasn’t born yesterday. The only young people involved directly in the war were the Gundam pilots. And the way you reacted to John. He tried to get to you. You lashed out at him, told him that you would never be taken alive and they wouldn’t have the Deathscythe either. Then, you slammed your hand down on the desk, emulated pointing a gun at your head, and collapsed.”

“In the war, we were taught that death was the better option when having to decide between that and capture. Slamming my hand down on the desk,” he had chuckled darkly in the back of his throat, “I was trying to self-detonate. I didn’t think it was working. I tried to shoot myself. That was how things would have gone. I’m sorry, Cammi. I’ll apologize to John and clear out my desk.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Not so many people want a Gundam pilot for an employee.”

“Duo, who you were has nothing to do with who you are. And you are an excellent employee. I wouldn’t fire you. Just . . . get more sleep, Duo. We don’t want a repeat performance of today. An apology to John isn’t a bad idea either. You really attacked him. I think you almost snapped his arm.”

“Just like that. I was a Gundam pilot and I’m okay to work here still? Just like that?”

“Yeah, just like that. Go home, Duo. Sleep for about a week. Oh, could you baby-sit Friday night? It’s Fritz and my anniversary and we wanted to go out. Maybe make little Froud number four. What do you say? Please?”

And it had been just like that. Cammi had become his good friend and confidante and he had worked harder than ever for her. There was nothing about him that she didn’t know. He felt comfortable calling her on the rare occasion that he drank himself into a stupor with no way home. In return, she had called him the night Fritz had been in a horrible car accident. He’d held her hand through it all and rejoiced when he’d pulled through. It was she he had turned to when he had killed once more, a man who had kidnapped and tried to kill Quatre and Trowa’s oldest. Wu Fei had been there immediately afterwards, but not for long. He’d had his own life to get back to. His pregnant Sally, Duo now knew. Duo had stayed with Cammi for nearly a month before he was ready to move on. Killing in the war had been easy. Killing was no longer easy or enjoyable. Killing made him sick. That was the reason, Cammi often told him, she loved having him around her children. One does what one has to do. That does not mean one always enjoys it, both she, Fritz, and now he emphasized to them. He was uncle to her three oldest and godfather to her fourth.

“A friend from the war?” Cammi asked, still distracted. Then, she gasped, “Oh, Duo. It’s not?”

“Yeah, it is.” Duo responded, his voice taking on an edge that he hadn’t meant to show through.

“Duo . . .” Cammi sighed sympathetically. She knew exactly who Duo spoke of when his voice took on that breathless, hurt quality. During the time they were sitting together in the emergency room waiting room praying for Fritz’s life he had found his emotions raw and unprotected. He didn’t know what had compelled him to tell her of his unrequited love, but it had seemed to help her in dealing with her fear to know the man sitting next to her felt love as deeply as she. But, while she had gotten to share her love, he never had. That was something to cherish. Of course, then Fritz had pulled through. It was due to the knowledge of his heartbreak and knowing that when he drank himself into a stupor it was over the same subject that she didn’t mind picking him up when he was drunk. She was also the only woman in the office who knew that Duo was bisexual. He enjoyed flirting and even having the occasional fling with women, so he didn’t deem it necessary that the other women in the office know the one who held his heart was a man. Cammi saw nothing wrong with this and flirted shamelessly with him, even in front of Fritz. Duo flirted just as shamelessly back, even with Fritz, just to see the handsome man blush and stammer. They had become his family.

“He . . . he needs me, Cams. And so does Sheira.”

“Don’t worry about it, love. Just concentrate on getting him better. Consider yourself officially on vacation. With pay. But Duo, I have to ask you for one thing.”

“Yeah, Cams, anything. I’ll even give you my firstborn if you really want.”

“Please, Duo. Six is really enough for me.”

“Cammi, last time I checked you only had four kids.”

“Yeah, well, the kids were at my mom’s house and Fritz and I had just a little too much wine.”

“Congratulations, Cammi. Really. But . . . wait. Six?”

“Twins,” Cammi sighed and he could hear the happiness in her voice, “I just found out at the doctor’s office about an hour ago. I haven’t told Fritz yet.”

“Cammi, something like this shouldn’t have to wait. You should take the rest of the day off and go attack Fritz at the school between classes. Or better yet, attack him during class. I’m sure he’ll forgive you once you tell him he’s gonna be a daddy two more times.”

“Yeah,” Cammi sighed again, “I might take a half day. They don’t need me here all day. Really, they don’t. Do they?”

“No, they don’t.”

“I’ll do it! Thanks, Duo, you always . . . wait, wait, wait . . . how did this happen? I was about to ask you a favor and instead you have me dreaming of telling my husband he’s gonna be a daddy again.”

“Yeah, I have a way about making you lose your train of thought, especially when you’re day dreaming anyway.”

“Duo!” her voice was filled with laughter and exasperation.

“Okay, okay. What’s the favor?”

“Don’t lose your heart to this guy, Duo. Just because he needs you so much. When he gets better, he’s not gonna need you anymore, just like you’re always telling me when you’re drunk. He doesn’t need you like you need him.”

“Cams, you know me better than almost anyone. And I guess you also already know that I lost my heart to him a long time ago. But, no matter what happens, I can make you one promise.”

“What’s that?”

“He won’t break me.”

“Good, Duo. That’s good to know. Now, tell me about this little girl.”

“Well, to start with, she’s absolutely beautiful.”