Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Strays ❯ Chapter 2

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Strays

Part 2

 

“Treize… Treize…!”

It took a few moments before his mind registered that somebody was calling his name. He opened his eyes and blinked, confused for a moment before he remembered where he was and how he got here. Milliardo was standing next to his bed.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning.” He stifled a yawn.

“Sorry for having to wake you, but breakfast is ready.”

Breakfast… The delicious smell of coffee, eggs and toast made him suddenly realize that he was starving.

“I washed your shirt last night, but I'm afraid the pants need dry cleaning,” the blond continued. “But I found a pair of jeans that should fit you, so at least you got something clean to wear for now.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“I'll see you downstairs then.”

As Milliardo left the tawny haired man pushed away the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He yawned again as he shuffled into the bathroom to wash up and get dressed. I think I'm not a morning person.

By the time Treize came downstairs Relena was already finished eating.

“Good morning,” she greeted him with a smile as she hurried past him to her room.

“Good morning.”

Moments later she returned with her backpack in hand. Milliardo stopped her just before she was able to dash out of the door. “Lena, what about your eggs, you have barely touched them.”

“Sorry, I'm late.” She told her brother. “Dorothy will be here any moment to pick me up. Oh, I almost forgot. Those text books I ordered came in; they are fifty three dollar.”

“Does it have time till Friday when I get paid?” he asked.

“I'm sure that will be okay. I'll tell Miss Carter that I'll pay for them Monday morning.”

Just then a car was honking outside.

“I got to go. Bye.”

“Bye, see you tonight.” Milliardo called after her, then he turned to Treize who was still standing somewhat tentative by the kitchen door. “Come in, sit down and eat. It won't be any good when it gets cold.”

“Thanks, don't mind if I do.” His stomach rumbled at the prospect of food as Treize took his seat at the table and helped himself to a piece of toast and a serving of scrambled eggs with bacon.

“Coffee?” the blond asked.

“Please.”

“I have to go to work in about half an hour,” Milliardo announced as he poured the piping hot drink.

The tawny haired man nodded in acknowledgement. “I'll be ready to leave too when you go.”

“And go where?” the blond asked.

“I'm not sure,” Treize admitted. “But…”

“Then why don't you stay here for a few more days; at least until you have decided what to do or your memory returns. Besides I was planning on taking your pants to the cleaner this morning. They won't be done until at least tomorrow evening.”

A tiny smirk tugged on the corners of his mouth as Treize looked up from his plate. “You really are an angel, you know that?”

Milliardo's laugh sounded somewhat embarrassed. “Then it's settled, you will stay?”

“How could I not.”

For a few moments they ate quietly until Treize asked. “Where is the dog by the way?” he realized only now that he hadn't seen Mr. Scruff this morning since he came downstairs.

“Oh, he is still in the laundry room. We have to feed him in there and keep him locked in until the cats get a chance to finish their breakfast.”

“Ah,” Treize nodded understandingly. “I guess otherwise he would eat their food too?!”

“Actually,” Milliardo told him. “He would probably first eat them then their food. Scruff is a good dog, most of the time; except when it comes to food. I think it has probably to do with the fact that he lived on the streets as a puppy where he had to fight for his meals.”

“So, I'm not the first `stray' you have taken in?”

Milliardo laughed. “Not by far.”

###

Treize sighed as he flipped listlessly through several TV channels. Is there really nothing on but Talk shows and Soap operas at this time of the day?

When Milliardo had left about an hour ago, he had told the older man to relax and take it easy. He had also given him his cell phone number and urged him not to hesitate to call him if he didn't feel well.

Treize finally turned off the TV. When he set the remote down on the little oval glass table his eyes fell upon a book. He picked it up and flipped through it. A handbook for parametric; apparently Milliardo had still been studying last night before going to sleep.

Treize couldn't help but admire the young man. For somebody who had suddenly lost his parents and was forced to drop out of school, grow up and become a `parent' himself to his younger sister, he had kept an amazingly positive attitude. His kindheartedness was remarkable too. Treize could imagine that it had to be hard to make ends meet with just Milliardo's salary, yet the young man invited him into his house without hesitation, even though that meant that there was going to be another mouth to feed.

A large paw scratching at his leg ripped the tawny haired man from his musings. Mr. Scruff was sitting next to his chair begging to be pet, brown eyes hopeful, tail wagging.

“You and I are pretty much alike; two stays picked up from the street.” Treize patted the large dog's head. “Although I'd have to say we are two pretty lucky strays.”

Mr. Scruff gave a quiet bark, his tail wagging briskly.

“You agree?!” the tawny-haired man laughed. “Well, maybe we should do something to earn our kibbles.” He rose and started to roll up the sleeves of his shirt. “So, where to we start?”

#####

“Hi”

Relena almost jumped at the sound of Treize's voice. She had been looking through some cabinets in the kitchen, trying to decide what she should make for dinner, and hadn't even heard the man approach. “Oh, hello.”

“Did I startle you? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to,” he apologized.

The young girl laughed, somewhat embarrassed. “It's alright, I must have spaced out I guess.”

“I was just wondering if there is something I can do to help.”

“No, no,” She shook her head resolutely. “You have already done so much. I don't think I remember this house ever being so clean. Besides, I'm still trying to figure out what to make for dinner. Milliardo will be late tonight, so it's my turn to cook.”

“Is that so?” Treize pulled out one of the chairs at the small kitchen table to sit down. “Does he work late a lot?”

“No, it's just that Brother takes classes twice every week, right after work. So he doesn't come home till almost eight,” she explained.

“Oh, I see. If you don't mind me asking, what's your brother doing for a living anyway?”

“Right now he works as an ambulance assistant, but he is trying to become a paramedic.”

“Ah, that explains his medical knowledge. He seemed very professional as he took care of me last night.”

“Yeah, Milliardo always wanted to become an emergency physician, but after our parents died he dropped out of school so that he could take a full time job and support us.” Relena sighed. “I feel bad really, because he is always putting me first and making sure I have everything I need without ever thinking of himself. But I'm glad that he got the job at the trauma center and is going back to school now. Maybe it's not too late for him to get his dream job some day. His colleagues are very supportive too. They always make sure that his work schedule doesn't interfere with his classes. I think Noin was even the one who suggested for him to go back to school.”

“Noin?” Treize echoed. “His girlfriend… fiancé?”

“Oh no, nothing like that,” Relena laughed. “She is one of the paramedics he works with. They are good friends but that's all. I do think she fancies him, but Milliardo really doesn't date.”

I can't say I blame her. But I'm glad to hear that there is nobody special in his life. The tawny haired man thought with a satisfied smile. “He doesn't date, period? Or just not coworker?”

“Truth is he doesn't do much of anything but work and study. I think the last time he went to a movie theater they probably still showed movies in black and white.

Treize chuckled. “That bad, huh?”

“Oh god, listen to me chatting. I have been talking your ears off, haven't I? I'm so sorry.”

He flashed her brilliant smile and made a dismissive gesture. “Not at all, not at all. I really don't mind listening. In fact I would love to hear more. You and your brother are really close, aren't you?”

#####

“I'm home!” Milliardo sighed in relief as he kicked off his shoes in the hall. “Something smells good, what did you cook, Lena?” he asked as he popped his head through the kitchen door.

“I didn't,” his sister told him. “Treize did all the cooking today. Go wash your hands we are just about to dish up.”

“Great, I'm starving.” The young man disappeared into the bathroom to clean up. A few minutes later he was sitting at the table together with Treize and Relena.

“Oh, this is delicious,” he exclaimed appreciatively after taking the first bite of the roast. “You really cooked that, Treize?”

“I'm glad you like it.”

“He didn't only cook; he even had the whole house cleaned by the time I came home from school,” Relena pointed out.

“Really,” Milliardo looked at his sister, then at Treize. “You really didn't have to do that.”

“I know.” The tawny haired man nodded. “But it was either that or watching Jerry Springer all morning long. Cleaning seemed the lesser of the two evils. Besides, you have been so kind to me. Helping out around the house is the least I can do in return. That way I feel less like I'm taking advantage.”

“Well, we are grateful. Thanks.” Milliardo assured him with a smile. He took another bite from his meal before he continued. “You really are a great cook. How did you get all the ingredients you needed for this?”

“Actually I started by making a list of what I found in the fridge, freezer and pantries. Relena was so kind to let me use her computer to search the internet for recipes including stuff I had on my list. So, it wasn't that hard.” Treize explained.

“That's amazing. You even made the gravy from scratch?”

“Yeah, well, I did have to improvise a little on that one,” the older man admitted with a slight smirk. “The original recipe asked for a 30 year old port wine.”

“Yeah, I'm afraid we are fresh out of that.” Milliardo chuckled.

“Miri can only make gravy from mix packages.”

The blond gave his sister a feign glare across the table. “You think it is wise to make fun of the person who controls your allowances?”

“But Brother,” Relena blinked innocently. “I meant that in the fondest way possible.”

“Oh I'm sure you did.”

Just then the oven beeper went off, and Treize put down his napkin and rose form the table. “That's the desert; if you'd excuse me for a moment.”

“There is desert too?” Milliardo asked pleasantly surprised. “This is getting better by the minute.”

“Nothing fancy,” the older man told him as he reached for the pot holders and pulled a small cake from the oven, “just some almond cake.”

“Nothing fancy he says,” the blond laughed. “You know; if you keep spoiling us like this, we might just decide to keep you here forever.”

###

“I'm so full, I can't eat another bite,” Milliardo announced about twenty minutes later, as he put down his napkin. “I don't think I have eaten this much in a long time. But everything was so delicious.”

“Well, thank you.”

“No, I really mean it. You are an incredible cook.”

“Maybe that's it,” Relena threw in. “She was still working on her piece of cake. “Maybe you are a cook?! Or more likely the head chef in one of those fancy four or five star restaurants. You seemed to know your way around the kitchen very well.”

“Hm…” Treize tapped his chin thoughtfully. “That's a possibility. I really seem to enjoy cooking.”

“Great thinking, Relena,” Milliardo commended.

“Oh, by the way, Miri,” Relena gave her brother the best puppy eyed look she could master. “Do you mind if I'd clean the dishes later? Cindy called earlier and asked if I wanted to come over to her house to watch a movie after dinner.”

“That's fine. Just make sure you don't stay out too late. And don't worry about the dishes; I'll take care of them.”

“Thanks, you are the best. Can I take the car?”

Milliardo nodded. “Drive safely.”

“I will,” she promised before she weaseled off to her room to get ready.

Her brother shook his head as he watched her. “I just don't understand teenage girls. How can it be that they have the attention span of an earthworm when it comes to homework, but they can spend hours on the phone without a break? Or why is it necessary to put on make-up just to go to a friend's house to watch a movie.”

Treize gave a low bubbling laugh. “One of mankind's last unsolved mysteries, isn't it?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Milliardo grinned as he rose to start cleaning the table.

“Let me help you,” the older man suggested.

“That's really not necessary.”

“But I insist.”

“Fine, it's not like I can stop you.”

They cleared the table together and when Milliardo begun to wash the dishes Treize reached wordlessly for a towel to dry them and put them away. They passed the time with small talk, and it didn't take long for Milliardo to realize that he enjoyed the other man's company very much. Treize was charming, witty and intelligent. Talking to him made cleaning the kitchen more like entertainment than a task.

The tawny-haired man reached for another plate, dried it and was about to put it into the cabinet when he suddenly froze in mid-motion.

“Treize?!” Milliardo asked alarmed. “Are you alright?”

Treize looked at him over his shoulder and nodded. “For a brief moment I just had what I think was a memory flash. It's hard to explain but I just had that picture of a different kitchen, in my own apartment I assume, in my head.”

“That's good,” the blond nodded. “That probably means you memory is starting to return.”

“Yeah, I guess, It just was…rather unexpected,” Treize admitted, “and way too brief.”

###

“There, all done,” Treize put down the dish towel and looked around the clean kitchen. “That wasn't too bad, was it?”

“No, it wasn't,” Milliardo admitted. “Thanks for helping.”

“My pleasure. So, what should we do now, it's still too early to go to bed.”

“It seems like a nice evening to take a walk together…together with Mister Scruff I mean.” A slight hue of crimson stained the blond's cheeks as he realized the slip of tongue.

The other man didn't seem to notice. “That sounds like a lovely idea,” he agreed.

Milliardo pulled a black leather jacket from the hall closet. “There, this should fir you.” Fortunately their similar size and statue allowed Treize to wear the younger man's clothes.

Mr. Scruff didn't need to be called. When Milliardo reached for the leash he knew that he was invited too. He jumped up from his doggy bed beneath the window and dashed for the door as fast as his 200 pounds allowed it. Milliardo quickly moved out of the way to avoid being run over, but as he stepped backward he somehow lost his footing and stumbled. Luckily Treize was right behind him.

The blond's heart nearly skipped a beat when a pair of strong yet surprisingly gentle arms caught him.

“Are you alright?”

Milliardo nodded. “How clumsy of me. I'm sorry.”

“Don't be.” Treize smirked ever so slightly. “I'm more that happy to catch you…whenever you fall.”

Milliardo could feel himself blush again. “Well thank you, that's good to know. But I think you can let go now.”

“Are you sure?” Treize's eyes sparkled with mirth as he gazed at the blond without releasing his hold.

Is he trying to flirt with me? The younger man swallowed. He gazed up, nearly loosing himself in those ice-blue orbs. “I…”

Just then Mr. Scruff started to scratch impatiently at the door, bringing Milliardo back to his senses. He quickly freed himself from Treize's grasp and straightened. “Alright, alright, we are coming already. No need to break down the door.”

The tawny haired man glared at the canine. Spoilsport!

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T.B.C.

 

Author's Note: 

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