Back from Balamb, Gwynt and Cho settled into a fairly comfortable routine of work and play. Gwynt flew cargoes all around Esthar - and on trips that would take longer than a day round trip, Cho flew with him as co-pilot. Most of the time he ferried goods around the city of Esthar itself, and occasionally took passengers or did other services for the Airstation - whatever paid the bills, for his Shooting Star had a hefty loan on her that needed paying off. Not to mention his mechanic's instruction, and his classes at the University - which half the time he had to catch up on after the fact, as his various assignments took him around the country.

Even so, it would have been the best time in Gwynt's life. Except for one thing; since returning from Balamb, Cho had begun feeling colder. At first it was a blessing to her - August in Esthar was the hottest, most humid, most abjectly miserable time of year, and she felt comfortable where Gwynt was dripping with sweat and wearing as little as Airstation rules would let him get away with. Even night was no respite, the concrete and steel releasing heat they had stored during the day into the slightly cooler evening air. Gwynt summoned breezes whenever he could get away with it, but even that brought little relief - the air was too humid to evaporate sweat from dripping bodies, and Gwynt could do nothing about that at all. Cho was the only one to be comfortable...for all of a week.

Although the heat of the city didn't lessen in the slightest, Cho acted as if winter were already arrived. Where Gwynt was sweating in just a pair of shorts and the sheerest shirts he could get away with wearing to work, Cho wore slacks and long sleeves and wasn't at all uncomfortable. And then she was - but instead of being hot, she was cold.

She didn't have a fever, and aside from feeling cold she was basically fine. There wasn't a medication to be taken for just feeling cold, so she turned off the air conditioning in her flat and drank hot teas, and tried to be comfortable. Gwynt fretted; he himself had a deep distrust of doctors, and couldn't really think of any good that one would do Cho, but at the same time he did not like seeing her uncomfortable. And it was very wrong, that she could keep her flat like a sauna and still feel cold...but what could he do? Because he had no useful suggestions to make he let Cho try whatever she wanted to without comment, and tried to keep from asking her if she was okay too often. Which didn't stop him from fretting, not at all, but he was canny enough to know it probably kept him from making things worse.

The day was gray, humid, and sweltering - which was more or less average for Esthar City, except for the clouds - and Gwynt was shirtless and half buried in the innards of a jet as one of the certified mechanics explained the workings of the parts and ran down the complaint he'd received, and had Gwynt guessing at where the problem might lie.

Cho got his attention by the simple method of touching him - her skin was cool, as if she'd been in air conditioning all day, and the touch of her fingers against the small of his back jerked Gwynt upright. "What the -?" he startled, but calmed quickly when he saw Cho. And got serious when over the scents of fuel and oil he detected nervousness and fear, and Cho's expression was so carefully neutral...

His eyes on Cho, he said, "I'm just gonna take a breather, Kichoumen. Don't wait up, I'll pick up where I left off later."

Kichoumen scowled. "You tell me you want certification and then you go off without warning? You'll never get your papers at this rate."

But Gwynt was already getting the worst of the oil off of him with a towel. "You heard me," he growled back. "I'll be back."

Cho winced; it never paid to be rude to the mechanics - they could choose which planes they worked on when, and if your plane didn't fly you had no way to earn your living. But Gwynt - apparently satisfied that whatever oil was still on him wasn't going to ruin anyone's day - had already blocked Kichoumen from his mind. "What you need?" he asked Cho, and when she looked pensive he started walking to a quieter corner of the Hangar floor. She caught up quickly, and he stopped when he judged them out of earshot. Whatever it was, she was nervy as hell about it; fear and apprehension rolled off her in waves he could scent, and he bit back the desire to demand news.

Cho apparently agreed that things shouldn't be strung out. Tightly, nervously, in one sentence she turned his world upside down and shook it. "Gwynt...don't freak on me, but - I'm pregnant."

Gwynt blinked, the whole rest of his body frozen stiff. His vision shifted, his eyes were probably glowing brown with the speed of the whirling colors, the whole world alive and aware and apparently falling on his head. He hadn't heard that. That was a mis-hearing, she'd said something else...no. Her voice was still ringing in his ears, tight and afraid (afraid of him . Cho was afraid of him - grip! Get a grip!) as she continued, "I'm not saying you have to do anything about it... my family probably won't think so, but they can go fuck themselves. Just... don't freak on me, all right?"

Don't freak. Right. The entire universe had just decided to start throwing curve balls, but don't freak. (Don't freak out Cho is afraid of you.) He forced himself to think. To function. Pretend this is absolutely normal and maybe it will be. The part of his brain that juggled odds and likelihoods was working at blinding speed, but he shut the information out. He blinked, once, as the sense of Cho's remarks hit him. She thought he might leave her? A short instant of blinding rage flashed through him, followed quickly by one of suicidal despair. She thought he would do what his own father had done to him. Very slowly, very deliberately, so as to show as little of what he was feeling as possible, he said, "Not have to do anything about it. But you're telling me." He took a deep breath, and gave her as much of the truth as he could at the moment. "Want me to shoot myself now, or do you want the pleasure yourself?"

Cho sighed, rolling her eyes. She forgot, sometimes, that he spoke only literal truth. "Gwynt, if I wanted you dead you'd already be dead."

Gwynt felt his lips twisting into a snarl, heard the sound in his throat. What did she think dropping a bombshell like that was?

Cho hugged herself, her unhappiness evident on her face. "This wasn't exactly on my agenda either. I just... don't think I'm trying to tie you down, alright?"

Tie him down. Breath of the Demon, she thought he'd assume she would do this on purpose? Gwynt's expression crumpled; one arm reached for her but he stopped halfway. He was still coated in oil, enough to mark her clothes, but that wasn't why. He didn't trust himself just now - didn't trust his own strength, didn't want to hurt her. "Tie me down," he repeated wonderingly. "Tie me down?" He found a bench bolted to the wall and sat on it, knotting his hands behind his head. The back of his head was handing him survival statistics, and Cho was afraid of him feeling tied down. "Tie me down," he repeated. "Shit." He had to ask, but not frighten her. Just being...pregnant...had scared her enough. No need to allow the internal bookie let her know what was really bothering him. He swallowed, and asked very slowly, "Are you...okay?"

She ducked her head, hugging herself more tightly. "I don't know," she admitted in a small voice.

You don't know. I don't know. Shitshitshitshitshit. Breathing very slowly, keeping his tone controlled, he echoed, "You don't know." Blindly, his hand reached for something to hold, encountered a steel ashtray, began bending it. Carefully, he asked, "Different, then?" Like me? Strange, like me?

Cho's laugh was breathy, nervous. "How would I know? I've never done this before!" She shrugged, trying to keep calm, speak rationally. "They say every woman gets it different, some worse, some better." In the face of his blank, eye-shifted glare, she stopped and swallowed. "Feels different than normal, yes," she admitted.

"You know how I mean 'different', Cho," Gwynt growled. His hand twisted and crumpled the thin steel of the ashtray, turning it into a small metal ball. "Fuck," he swore, and winced. That was what had gotten them in this mess.

Cho winced at the choice of phrase as well. "You've already heard me complaining. Just didn't know what it was then." Trying to be optimistic, she added, "And if that's as bad as it gets, then I say I'm better off then the ones who spend months puking their guts out every morning."

"As bad as it gets," Gwynt echoed softly, and twitched. Cho had no idea how bad it could get. Neither, for that matter, did he. But his own mother was dead, and Taran's mother was dead, and Daear's mother was dead, and Nodwydd's and the twins'. He wanted to tell Cho to get rid of the child, right now, don't take any chances nobody's ever survived this but he knew her. He'd have to know - not believe, not guess, not suppose - or Cho wouldn't abort. And there were only two people who might know, and of those two he only knew how to find one. He'd gotten along with his father well enough just by staying out of his sight and not asking questions he plainly didn't want to answer, but that wasn't an option any more. He had to know if Cho would die, trying to bear his child. He had to know. There were no options, any more. "Damn," he swore. "I don't care if he doesn't know jack or won't tell me jack if he does. I'm getting hold of my father and if he's got answers I'm getting them out of him or I'm breaking his goddamn demigod neck." Or die trying, which is a lot more likely. He looked up, into her nervous, worried face. He had to do something. Anything. Everything. "Think Kakeru knows a way to get hold of Balamb Garden?" he asked. He'd need Irvine for this.

Chewing her lip, Cho replied, "Maybe. Could find out." In a small voice, blinking rapidly, she continued, "Haven't told anyone else yet. Wanted to be sure you were all right first."

Gwynt's expression twisted. She - she was pregnant. With his child, and he didn't have any room for the shock at being able to sire children because all of his being was deathly afraid it was going to kill her. "Me all right," he echoed. "Cho, don't worry about me." Not when you've got more worrying than anybody needs just worrying about you. He sighed, took a deep breath. This changed everything, and he was working on gut instinct because his thoughts were flicking by far too quickly to follow. Cho was going to need him, very soon. Maybe need him to do things the way she wanted them done, and he knew just enough about her family to know that if they could, they'd do exactly what they wanted and fuck Cho's opinion on the matter. He needed a grounding, a basis for putting his foot down and making sure that whatever happened - good or bad or unthinkable - it was what Cho wanted. And to do that... "I...fuck," he swore, and twitched again at the sound of the word. How the hell did people do this? More than a small part of him was still wrestling with the Cho-being-pregnant concept, and most of what was left was wrestling with Cho-could-die fear. There wasn't time for nerves over this. There wasn't room - but if Cho died, he wanted to know that he hadn't done anything with the time she had that he would regret. "You're gonna take this wrong, and I won't blame ya," he began hesitantly, and could feel a blush rising to his cheeks. This was going to sound sappy, and stupid, and romantic, but damnit it needed to be done and done quickly. Single, Cho was a scion of her House and only that, and her father could legally order her to do damn near anything for the House's good. Somewhat stiffly, faintly blushing - but completely serious - he enunciated both words as clearly as he could. Having to repeat it might just kill him. "Marry me?"

Cho simply stared for a long moment, her jaw dropping, but Gwynt didn't look away or pretend he hadn't said it. At last she said, faintly, "I can't believe you just said that."

"Belt me with a chair if you want to," Gwynt replied tightly. All of his concentration was going into holding himself together and not trying to anticipate a particular answer. "Yes or no?"

Cho blinked, looking rather bemused, as if the conversation had finally entered unreality for her, too. "....Yes?" She managed a small grin, and rubbed a hand over her face. "I'm sorry, Gwynt. Yes. If you really want to... hell, yes. I just didn't think you'd ever... Hyne, I was having these awful visions of my family hogtying us both into an actual shotgun wedding..."

"Shotguns and hogtying I can handle," Gwynt replied stiffly. Gods, if he got any more tense he could break bones by tripping. "They try for noble clothes and white lace and somebody is gettin' shot," he warned. He'd seen Esthari formal wear for the nobs. There was no way they were getting him to wear a bathrobe in public, no matter how fancy it looked or what material it was made from.

She made a small groan, covering her eyes with her hand. "Oh, don't say that, or I really will think about being sick..."

Gwynt sighed. "Don't think about it," he advised. So far it was doing wonders for his ability to function, and he didn't want her thinking about survival statistics and literally scaring herself to death. "It's gonna get lots worse before it gets better." He just wished to hell he knew how much worse. Marrying her, and having her dead less than a year later...even thinking on the idea made him twitch. "I...need to be part o' this," he admitted. And I hope like hell it does get better.

Cho sniffled a little, determinedly not looking up. "I want you to be."

He just stared at her for a long moment. She really hadn't known, she really - "You thought...I wouldn't?" he asked, blinking.

She sniffled again. "Wasn't sure," she admitted. "Don't know how I feel about it yet. It's just... a lot. All at once."

Which had to be the understatement of the century. He was still trying to wrap his head around...abruptly, he decided. But this wasn't usual, even for them, and it felt odd to ask. He'd done it so many times before and never thought to ask, nor needed to, but this was different. Nervously, in a shaky voice that he tried to control, he asked, "Um...can I..." he swallowed, blushing faintly, "touch?"

Cho glanced up, a little pale, a little teary, and managed a small smile. "Yes."

Gwynt pulled her gently down onto the bench beside him, then got down on his knees in front of her on the Hangar floor. Careful not to chill her, he pulled up just enough of her shirt to slip his hand beneath - and rested his fingers on her stomach, trailing the touch downward until shifted, nerve-heightened senses detected a change. Faint, so faint he would have missed it if he hadn't been listening, feeling for exactly this - but definitely present. "I can feel a heartbeat," he told her softly. A faint flutter of pulse, quick and ephemeral as a bird's, and not Cho's at all. He blinked several times as the reality finally sank in. That heartbeat, that flutter...that was his child there. Life, new life...

Cho made a small, half startled hiccuping noise. Softly, almost awed, she asked, "Really?"

Gwynt tapped his temple with one finger, near shifted eyes. "Good hearing," he commented, very very softly. "There is a heartbeat."

Cho's fingers lost themselves in his curls, her expression as stunned as his. He put his arms around her waist and rested his cheek against her stomach, and for a little while they sat so, lost in their own private worlds of wonder and change. Cho was the first to break the stillness, beginning to shake as reality finally set in. Gwynt got up and sat beside her, and held on as she shivered and cried. Everything was different now - everything , and he couldn't tell her it would all be okay because he didn't know, so he just whispered, "I'm here, not goin' anywhere, nowhere at all..." and hoped it would be enough.

In the end, though, Cho was a tough woman. She pulled away from him and brusquely wiped the tears from her face, and tried with some success to keep her voice level as she spoke. "There's so much to do...baby, wedding..."

Gwynt winced, though he tried not to. "I know your folks ain't gonna like this," he ventured, "but could we just do like a court thing and skip the bathrobes?"

Cho dismissed mention of her parents, wincing even as he did at the notion of the wigs, powder, and kimono robes of Esthar's nobility. She cut instead to the most important consideration. "When?"

Gwynt was hanging on to his self-control by his teeth. The more he had to think about this, the closer to overwhelmed he got. Better to just get everything done. "Um - tomorrow's good, could take the day -"

"Hey, you take off from work to go snog?" came Kichoumen's voice, and both of their heads snapped round - Gwynt's eyes shifted and whirling. More surprises he could not handle right now. "Holy shit," the mechanic breathed, and backed up - fear evident on his face.

"Knock that off," growled Gwynt. "If I ain't done shit to you for bein' an ass, I ain't gonna start now." He closed his eyes. Might as well let them know - and Cho's slight reassuring squeeze on his arm helped. "Since you're so damn nosy, you can be the office gossip." He opened his eyes again, let Kichoumen get a good look at the glowing swirls. "An' if it gets outta the Airstation before we've told her folks, I'll rip your arms off. Me an' Cho...we're gonna have a kid."

Kichoumen's jaw looked like it would hit the floor. It very nearly did when Cho added, "We're getting married tomorrow. Think you could run up and tell Kakeru for us?"

It was somehow a relief to know that just about anyone would be floored by the news, and Gwynt and Cho started laughing as Kichoumen said, "Um, yeah, sure," and started walking in a weaving sort of way up to the head office.

"You're going to be teased for weeks, you know," Cho said, trying to hold together, then noticed Gwynt's eyes were shifted and uncovered. "He didn't -"

He shrugged. "They know me by now," he said. "More important, I know them. I'm a pilot an' they know it. They won't give me grief. Not when I'm so damn useful." He sighed. "Your folks are gonna have to know, too, if the little one's gonna be like me."

"Not yet," Cho said firmly. "I agree, they'll need to know - but Gwynt, if they know too soon they'll try to make me abort. There's all those purity laws they can invoke."

"Inbred sons o' bitches," growled Gwynt, then made a face. "Sorry. Shouldn't insult 'em when you're one too, should I?"

"I'd be offended if you weren't right," Cho replied. "Well...mostly right." She paused. "We ought to tell Kakeru we need tomorrow off."

Gwynt let her go, and got up. "Yeah," he said quietly. "Guess we'd better get started."

* * * * * *

The wedding was a very simple affair. Kakeru, the Station Master, grabbed Kichoumen to serve as a witness with him, and they made a half-holiday of it. When Gwynt would have protested, Kakeru waved him off.

"Instructor Iigeru's family is going to try to make your life miserable," he said flatly, in the tones of one who had had far more dealings than he liked with the noble class. "You need people of standing to serve as witnesses, or they'll contest this in court." He grinned. "Besides - after all the antics you two have pulled in my Airstation, it's my pleasure to make sure you're properly tied together."

They didn't have to do anything particularly special; Gwynt and Cho wore their cleanest Airstation uniforms (Gwynt wore a pilot's uniform, and Cho an Instructor's) but had no rings - there was neither money to buy them nor time to choose them. But because rings were part of How It Was Done in Esthar, they hit a rock shop - a place that specialized in rings and beads of various kinds of stone, so that people could make their own charms for various purposes.

The stone rings were carved in all sizes, from little loops suitable for earrings to large ones big enough to use as toe rings. They were in bins by type, and tagged by size - and, helpfully, the shop had the traditional associations of the stones on signs over the bins next to the prices.

"Do you want rings of the same stone, or two different stones?" Cho asked. "We could go either way."

Gwynt shrugged. "It's just till we can get proper ones. Probably'd take less time for us just to pick something that works. Don't have to agree."

"Gotcha," said Cho, and started looking along the bins. They didn't have a lot of time.

Gwynt started reading the signs. The idea that stones held qualities or properties other than, say, color and hardness, seemed an amazingly stupid tradition. But if he was going to choose a stone based on its symbolism, he wanted to get it right. If it said something, he wanted it to be what he wanted Cho to know, or have.

Agate? Well, longevity would be nice, but gardening? Amber? No, she'd whack me with something if I said she needed beauty...Banded Agate's redundant, you don't fly her planes without strength or courage....

He paused by the bin of carnelians. Protection, peace, eloquence, healing, courage, sexual energy, proclaimed the sign above it. And the stones were a rather interesting color...he looked over to find Cho eyeing the same bin.

"You know Kakeru would never forgive us," she commented with a wicked grin.

He had to agree. As bosses went, Kakeru was a good one - no point in antagonizing the guy. He kept looking, and looked up when he heard the silvery sound of her laughter. She was holding up a ring carved of dark purple amethyst. Dreams, Overcoming Alcoholism, Healing, Psychism, Peace, Love, Protection Against Thieves, Courage, Happiness, the sign said. He rolled his eyes at her. "Just 'cos you can't drink more'n one glass 'thout fallin' over," he grumbled, and returned to scanning the bins.

He stopped by the bin of sard stone. Love, Protection, Courage, Facilitation Childbirth, proclaimed the sign. He blinked. Why not? The baby was why they were doing this right now at all. And it might do no good at all, but it wouldn't do any harm and Cho would need all the help she could get. He fished around in the bin until he found one that would fit her that looked all right.

Cho had made her choice as well; she came over to him and showed him the ring she'd found - lapis lazuli, so dark as to be violet. "The sign said it was for healing, joy, love, fidelity, psychism, protection, and courage," she commented.

He blinked. "Psychism?"

"For your...parents," she said quietly.

He nodded; okay, in that context it fit. He showed her his own choice - she smiled, but refrained from comment. The two rings together came to a mere fifteen Gil; not much more, really, than their marriage license had.

That done, they headed over to the courthouse where Kakeru and Kichoumen were waiting. Gwynt was starting to feel like his legs were made of glass, and one wrong step would make them shatter. He didn't dare look at Cho.

"This way - we got you a ticket and you've got two cases left before you," said Kakeru, leading them down a hall.

"Ticket?" Gwynt nearly squeaked. What was this, a deli? Now Serving Number 305, step up and get married?

"That's about exactly what it is," rumbled Kichoumen, and Gwynt turned scarlet as he realized he'd said that last aloud. "Esthar's a big country, flyboy. You go for a plain ceremony, you got to expect some company."

Cho squeezed his arm, and he realized she was just as nervous as he was. It didn't matter what number they were. It was still permanent, still legal, still important. And at the same time, somewhat numbing. Going from single and childless to married father-to-be in the space of two days was leaving his head spinning. They spent the time waiting for their turn in filling out the marriage license as required, and let Kakeru and Kichoumen sign as witnesses. Gwynt was at that moment intensely glad he'd memorized the falsified information on the identification papers Irvine had forged for him.

He might have had a twinge about that - about using false ID to marry Cho. But there wasn't really a choice. If he were ever given one, he'd go back and correct the license so that it would be completely real - but in practical terms it made little difference. The vows he made would bind him regardless.

And then it was their turn. Gwynt had to put on his sunglasses when sheer nerves made his eyes shift. Kakeru noticed but didn't comment - telling Gwynt that Kichoumen had probably mentioned seeing it, and that he'd have to talk with Kakeru about it later. Right now it felt like the least of his problems. The name plate said "Honorable Judge Tabini", and the three pilots and mechanic bowed.

"Busy bachelor party?" the judge commented, and Gwynt nearly jumped when he realized the man was referring to him.

Sheer nerves kept him polite - he did not want something choosing now as a good time to go wrong. "You could say that, y'honor," he tried. Which was true - the judge could say whatever he liked. Gwynt hadn't had time for a bachelor party. He'd barely had time to be engaged. He reached up and put the license on the judge's bench.

Judge Tabini checked the license over and verified its correctness with the computer built into the bench. "Sure you want to do this?" he asked brusquely. "Both of you?"

Cho managed to speak past the lump in her throat first. "Yes, your honor," she said quietly, and Gwynt quickly echoed her. Great Pandemona, if he got any more tense his own muscles would snap him in two.

"Where are the rings?" asked Tabini, and Cho quickly held up the little bag from the rock shop. "Give them to him," the judge ordered, pointing at Kakeru. "He'll hand them to you as needed."

Cho did so, starting to look more than a little pale herself. Kakeru grinned, but said nothing. There would be plenty of time later to tease his brave pilots about going weak-kneed in front of a judge. For now, solidarity was the rule.

"Now, repeat after me," Tabini said to Gwynt. "And when you've done, put your ring on her finger."

Gwynt just nodded, and repeated what he was told to say. Each word felt alive, wrapping around him. This wasn't idle talk - he'd have to do this, be this. "Cho Iigeru, I take you to be my lawfully wedded wife. Before these witnesses I vow to love you and care for you as long as we both shall live. I take you with all your faults and strengths, as I offer myself to you with my faults and strengths. I will help you when you need help, and will turn to you when I need help. I choose you as the person with whom I will spend my life."

So lost was he in the feel of words wrapping around him, changing reality, great Pandemona he was really doing this, that he didn't notice Kakeru step up and press a ring into his palm. Thank goodness it was the right one - the sard stone ring he'd chosen. He slipped the ring on the correct finger, and tried to remember how to breathe. He'd really have to remember that soon, or fall over.

And then Cho's voice washed over him, slightly shaky but determinedly clear, repeating the words Tabini gave her to say. "Gwynt ab Llew, I take you to be my lawfully wedded husband. Before these witnesses I vow to love you and care for you as long as we both shall live. I take you with all your faults and strengths, as I offer myself to you with my faults and strengths. I will help you when you need help, and will turn to you when I need help. I choose you as the person with whom I will spend my life."

And then she lifted his hand and slipped the lapis ring on his finger, and it was real. Pandemona, she really said it. She really said it, she actually married me.

"Now, both of you come up here and sign this," intruded Tabini's voice, and Gwynt blinked. He approached the bench and put his signature on the correct line, next to Cho's, and then Tabini appended his own signature and fed the completed license into the computer. "That's it," he said, once the computer spat the paper back out. "Here you go. Just don't let me see you back in here wanting a divorce."

The stone ring was warming up on his finger. Kakeru and Kichoumen grabbed Cho and Gwynt and hustled them out of the courtroom so the next couple could step up.

"That's it," said Kakeru, as Kichoumen waved a hand in front of their stunned faces. "We've done our duty." He clapped Gwynt's shoulder. "Don't let her parents back you down," he said. "We're good witnesses, they can't contest anything on legal grounds. I don't want to lose my best noble pilot because a groundling got his sensibilities offended." He turned to Kichoumen. "Time for us to get back to work. You two have the day off, with pay as long as I get a blow by blow of the blow by blow."

They split up on the steps of the courthouse, Kakeru and Kichoumen heading back to the Airstation. Gwynt almost followed them, and then stopped himself. He was married now. Things were different, everything was different...weren't you supposed to move in together before getting married? On the other hand you were supposed to do pregnancy and children after getting married and he'd got that one wrong too....

Cho's light hand on his arm startled him - I gotta be losin' it, I don't even sense her - and her expression was nervous but still a little amused. "We're married," she said quietly. "Among other things, that means you can live with me, if you want to."

Single, homeless, and childless to married with an apartment and a baby on the way, in less than a week. Too much more of this and Gwynt was going to trade his mind in for a plate of scrambled eggs. He tried to respond, ended up coughing around the dryness in his throat, tried again. "Can I get my trunk?"

"Want help?" she offered, but he shook his head.

"I'll meet you at - at the apartment," he said. It was habit to say 'Cho's place' but it wasn't just hers any more. She heard the slip, ventured a smile and a quick kiss, and then set off. Gwynt watched her go, and wondered if this was life being turned upside down, or life doing cartwheels.

Well, nothing would get done by standing and gaping, though in truth he wanted nothing more than to sit down somewhere and think through the past two days until he really came to terms with the changes. The hard fact was there wasn't time to do that. He set off at a steady run for the Airstation - passing Kakeru and Kichoumen on the way, much to their amusement - and for once ignored the other pilots and the aircraft when he got there. The only person who had half a chance of understanding how he felt just now was probably making tea in her - their - apartment, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up with her and shut the rest of the world out for a while.

His trunk was stowed in an inconspicuous, out of the way corner of the Hangar floor, steel with a sturdy lock and a chain looped around a handy bar for security. Not that the contents were really worth that much care; Gwynt didn't own much. Textbooks from his classes, notebooks for his classwork and notes, spare clothes and work jumpers and a duffel for dirty clothes - nothing not absolutely essential was in there, and the trunk wasn't even half full. He unlocked it from the bar, put the lock back on the clasp, and heaved it over his shoulder. One of the advantages of being what he was, was being able to do such things. Being seen doing them kept strangers from using his size as proof he was an easy mark.

His whole life...up to this week, anyway...didn't even fill the trunk. He nearly stumbled as events decided to hit him in the back of the head. Who was he to be marrying Cho? Who was he to be doing any of this with her? He didn't even own the plane he flew, all he owned was currently perched on his shoulder. Great Pandemona, children cost money, where was it going to come from? He had classes and training to complete if he ever wanted a decent income, there were his brothers and sisters to consider, what the fuck was he thinking?

He stared at the ring of blue-violet stone on his finger. Husband. He was Cho's husband. Talk about whacked. And they'd only been dating - going steady, his mind corrected, dating would imply you were looking around - last week. I gotta quit thinkin' like this. It wasn't that long ago but it's sure as hell over now. Like bein' dropped out of eternity into that valley in Galbadia. Whole world changed in a day. Came alive, for a start. He took a deep breath and started moving again, hand firm on the handle of the trunk to steady it on his shoulder. Ain't outta the deep water yet, neither. Dad's gonna throw one hell of a hissy 'f I try gettin' anythin' useful in the way o' answers outta him, an - an' there's Cho's folks...prolly oughta do them first, they read newspapers an' shit an' Cho's gotta be as nervy about tellin' 'em as I am.

When he got to her - to their - apartment, he knocked on the door purely out of habit. And colored when Cho answered it with the comment, "Gwynt, you have a key."

"I know," he replied tightly, stepping inside. He knew, too, that what she meant was you don't knock on the door of the place you live. She'd never knocked on the door unless she'd forgotten her key or her hands were too full to open the door herself. Because it was her apartment. And now it was his, too. But still..."Where should I put this?" he asked, indicating the trunk. It didn't feel like his place. It felt like hers. He'd never had a place all his own. He'd always at least shared with Taran and Nodwydd, when he'd had a room of his own at all.

"There," she replied, indicating a corner. The futon was laid flat to serve as a bed, and Gwynt wondered if she'd just forgotten to put it back up as a couch, or if she'd been lying down before he knocked. The heavy blankets were rumpled; she was often cold. A steaming cup was on the headboard-arm; probably hot tea. Given that the apartment's windows were all closed and the air conditioning was off and it was August, the ambient temperature in the room was somewhere near ninety humid degrees. He set the trunk down where she'd indicated, and stripped down to boxers as the only way to keep himself remotely comfortable while she got back under her blankets and wrapped them around her. She made no comments about his near-nudity, and by that he knew that she was worried too.

Hell of a wedding day, he thought to himself as he climbed onto the futon with her, pulling her and her blankets onto his lap so that his own body heat would help to warm her. He didn't feel married; Cho didn't feel like his wife. He didn't feel like he'd come home, he felt as much a visitor here as he always had. Hopefully that would change in time; he couldn't make himself adjust. He couldn't make himself believe all the events of the past few days. Part of him was sure this was just an elaborate dream, and he'd wake up and life would be normal. He would be sure that was exactly what was going on, were it not for the stone ring on his finger. He'd said the words, signed the papers, and so had she. The apartment was baking and she was shivering in his arms. They were real, it was all real, he just hadn't caught up yet.

Her voice against his chest was small and tense and afraid, and trying not to show it. "I have to tell my parents."

"Tomorrow," he replied, quietly but firmly. "Nobody'll have knocked on their door before then...let the ink dry on the papers. Just take today to get used to it."

She sniffled, as if she'd been crying recently, and snuggled into him, blankets and all. "I don't even know what my name is," she remarked lightly. "Am I Cho ab Llew now?"

He blinked. He hadn't even thought about that. "If you want to be, I guess so," he replied, aware it wasn't the best response he could make but not sure what he was supposed to say. "But not instead of your old name. Just...mine too. So your parents don't get too upset. I could take yours too, make it fair..."

"Don't do that until after you meet them," Cho sighed.

"That bad?" Cho routinely handled stalls and spins in midair that would kill other people with fear. What could be so bad about her parents that she was more nervous of them than her job?

"You'll see," she replied enigmatically. "I think you might be right...I think I want just today to be your wife, and get used to you being my husband..."

Gwynt's arms tightened around her. His wife. She'd really done it. His wife, his alone, his. Just let them try taking her away. She'd made herself his, and he would rip their arms off rather than let them, or anyone else, take her away. He bent over her to kiss her forehead, she tilted her face up at the same moment and he caught her lips instead.

Deep inside, the band of tension around his heart and body broke. This was right. This was home. The rest of the universe could go hang.

* * * * * *

"Um...this'd be a bad time to say I haven't got a clue how nobles live, wouldn't it," Gwynt said nervously. Pandemona's tail, the Iigerus were traditional. Their house was a huge, sprawling affair made - to Gwynt's mind - to blow over in a stiff breeze; all light wood and thin paper. Colorful, yes, but how did you get any privacy? Monsters were kept out by the stone wall surrounding the property, and he hadn't missed the gunners at the corners for aerial monsters, but inside the wall it was a whole different world from Esthar City. Raked sand and rocks and little shrubs and tiny little pools. Part of Gwynt was wondering if the gunners lost their jobs if they shot a monster and it landed on the raked sand.

"I didn't think you did," Cho replied reassuringly. "I doubt your grandfather had much idea either; the nobles tend to regard government as an unfortunate necessity and don't usually deal very closely with politicians."

Gwynt looked down at his own outfit - his second-best work uniform, which was the best he had available, and Cho had hers on as well. On the other side of the wall, that had looked about right. On this side, though, they both looked very out of place. "I don't want to get you in trouble," he rumbled unhappily.

Cho was seeing something he wasn't - of that he was sure. Something was making her angry. "You won't," she said firmly. "Just relax and do the best you can. I'm not even sure where they're expecting us, they didn't say they were going to..." She caught sight of someone standing with bowls on a tray near one of the sheds and groaned. "This way," she said, leading him towards the shed.

"What's going on?" Gwynt asked, getting more uncomfortable by the second. Something was, he was sure - or Cho wouldn't be angry.

"Just be yourself," said Cho. "Whatever happens, just be yourself."

He blinked. That was an odd piece of advice, especially coming from Cho. This was her territory, her place, not his. She at least knew what was going on. She led him into the little shed and took a seat, so he did too. He was just about to ask what they were supposed to be waiting for when the man who held the tray came in. At a loss for anything else to do, Gwynt watched Cho and did what she did. The person with the tray he took to be a servant; the man didn't seem to notice or care that Cho looked furious - Gwynt only hoped she wasn't furious at him. He knew enough of nobles to know that Cho would be in enough trouble just for marrying him as a commoner. He didn't want to make it worse for her if he could help it.

They were led at a snail's pace down a little path, past a few trees and rocks, to another shed-type building with a very low entrance. Gwynt briefly entertained the notion that Cho's parents were midgets, because the only way to get in was to crawl. But Cho did so without hesitation, so he did too. Once inside, proportions seemed normal enough, and they were shown a niche that displayed a hanging scroll. Gwynt scowled at the scrolls; this form of handwritten Esthari was still somewhat difficult for him. The guide and Cho bowed to it, though, so after some hesitation Gwynt did too.

They were then led to a table and given what Gwynt would have labeled a snack anywhere else. Given that their guide sat next to a woman as they ate, Gwynt had to conclude that their 'guide' was Cho's father, and the woman Cho's mother. Mentally he kicked himself - of course they were both older, but the quality of color in the man's hair wasn't the streaky gray of age but the true white so prized by the nobles of Esthar. The woman had a proud bearing, and the gold in her skin and the tilt of her eyes proclaimed her Galbadian. Seeing the two of them together Gwynt could see where Cho had gotten her exotic looks.

Neither of them paid him much attention. Both of them were watching Cho, and Gwynt was getting the uncomfortable feeling that an entire silent argument was going on in the glares that passed between the three of them. An argument about him, very likely. Just please don't try telling me nobles are telepathic....

The only dish he knew well enough to put a confident name to was the sake; the way everything else had been presented he had a sneaking suspicion it had its own name. This whole event smacked of ritual, where he didn't know the names and didn't know the rules, and Cho's parents were staring at her.

Gwynt wasn't stupid; this had been done deliberately - and now that he knew who these people were, the pieces were slotting into place. They'd welcomed Cho home in their own way, with a noble's ceremony - and were making a very powerful point about where they felt Cho belonged. Cho knew the rules of this event, knew what to do and when. He didn't. They were making him as out of place as they possibly could, letting Cho know that with other nobles was not where he belonged. They were doing their level best to embarrass him, and only Cho's willingness to demonstrate how things were supposed to go had allowed the ceremony to continue.

He had to take his time over the sake, keeping his eyelids lowered, because he could feel his eyes shifting. He kept his head down as little sweets were served so that they couldn't get a clear look at his face. Be yourself, Cho had said. Well, right now, he was strongly tempted to punch a few people's noses through the back of their heads.

Lord Iigeru rose, bowed, and withdrew. Lady Iigeru led them back outside the hut, looked at Gwynt, and in a voice like chimes said, "You are free to speak now."

Gwynt only growled. So many words were fighting for the chance to be first that none of them made it out of his mouth.

"Mother," said Cho stiffly, "this is Gwynt ab Llew. My husband."

Lady Iigeru had learned control. Her only visible reaction was a slight widening of dark, tilted eyes. Her gaze flickered to Gwynt's hand, and to Cho's, and Gwynt was sure that she had correctly identified both the rings and their symbolism when her eyes returned firmly to Cho.

"You're going to be a grandmother in about eight months," Cho confirmed.

"There will need to be a proper wedding," said Lady Iigeru. "You are the heir to the House, we cannot have -"

"No," said Gwynt flatly. He'd had about as much politeness as he could stand. "We got married. Don't need to do it again."

"I would not expect you to understand," Lady Iigeru said shortly. "It is time to return to the ceremony."

"No," Gwynt repeated, and Cho moved to lace her fingers in his. "You can keep your ceremony. We came to tell you what was goin' on, an' now you know."

Lady Iigeru seemed to deal with this rudeness by pretending it hadn't happened. "Come, Cho. If he will be so uncivilized, you at least know better."

"I know honesty when I see it," said Cho tightly. "And if you'd been honest, you wouldn't have held a ceremony you know he would never have seen before."

"It was your duty to teach him his obligations, not ours," chided Lady Iigeru. "I learned the ways proper to this country, and so can he."

Gwynt could feel control of his temper slipping away. His eyes would shift again soon if he couldn't keep a grip - he could not stay here. Cho's husband for less than a day, and in over his head already. But he wasn't going to take any guff from a lady in a bathrobe who thought more of where you stuck a rock than what kind of person you were or what you were willing to do. Had anyone told him he'd have to know about crawling through tiny doors and bowing at scrolls to make Cho happy, he'd have given it his level best. Having it shoved down his throat just pissed him off, and he had had enough. "Lady, fuck you," he snapped. "I married Cho, not you, and not your matchstick House. If she's happy, I'm happy. If you ain't happy, I don't give a rat's ass."

All of the tension and rage he'd built up over the past few days of bombshell after bombshell was coming out at once. He turned away from the little hut and made a direct beeline for the front gate - which meant he went right through the rock and sand gardens. His power, reacting to his anger, disrupted the scene further as a wind rose and destroyed raked lines and buried stones and blew petals from blossoming trees.

They were wise enough not to close the gate on him; the iron bars were swung wide and he stormed right through. Cho caught up to him shortly thereafter, and when he launched himself into the sky he carried her with him.

* * * * * *

By the time he landed them on the balcony of her - their - apartment, Gwynt's temper had cooled to regret. He shouldn't have reacted so badly, they were Cho's parents after all and he would have to deal with them - which would now be much more difficult. Cho was tense and angry, too, and he could only assume she was upset with him for storming off like that before he'd even said hello to her father.

Once inside, and the balcony door closed behind them, Cho grabbed the nearest small thing to the door - a ceramic bud vase - and hurled it with all her strength at the far wall, where it shattered. "Goddamn motherfucking bigoted assholes!" she yelled. "Their minds are shut tighter than Shiva's cunt!"

Gwynt stood frozen in sheer shock as Cho started raging around the apartment, and any small breakable thing in her path got hurled against a wall as she swore a streak fit to do any drunken Airstation pilot proud.

"It's my life, you imp-fucking, torama-kissing bastards!" she raged. "My life, my baby, my marriage..."

Gwynt was tempted to point out that the last two were sort of by way of being shared events, but when her ivory netsuke collection started being shattered against walls he decided he didn't want to be a target. Unfortunately it was a studio apartment, and there were no doorways to go through to hide behind. His best bet was to go out onto the balcony again, but he didn't want to look like he was leaving her. Her ranting was currently on the idea that her parents should have been happy for her, and if they'd wanted someone they could control then maybe they should have settled for a china doll they could dress up and parade around and call their daughter instead of a flesh and blood one since she was evidently giving them so much trouble.

"Hon?" Gwynt ventured, not at all sure he wanted to get between Cho and whatever was really making her this angry, but compelled by basic honesty to speak up. "I don't like 'em, but they've got a point. I ain't exactly a catch, you know, not for one o' your lot, an' it's not like I could wave my grandfather's name at 'em to make it all better, now can I?"

"I chose you!" Cho raged, slamming another piece of fragile decoration to splinters and shards on the floor. "If they don't like that then they can damn well go to hell, because I'll take an honest pilot over a double tongued, ass kissing, back stabbing noble any day of the week!"

Gwynt took the hint and shut up, and took a seat next to the futon where he wasn't likely to get coated in shards, or dust, or be in the flight path of any of her throws. Once he got over the surprise of hearing Cho swear as loudly, profusely, and inventively as any pilot who'd had a toolbox dropped on his foot or been told his plane was damaged - for Cho had never been in the habit of swearing before - he realized that she wasn't so much angry as she was hurt. Her parents' attempt to exclude him, to tell her how things should be, had hurt her. He regarded the wreckage of her netsuke collection - which he'd never much liked in the first place - and wondered what would have happened if he'd kept his own temper and stayed at the Iigeru house. Would she have turned this rage on her parents?

And he still had to deal with his own father. Cho was ignoring her physical condition in her anger, but that wouldn't last. He needed to know how bad this could get, and soon. If he waited too long and it turned out she would have to abort the baby, it would be dangerous for her. He checked his watch - no, too late today, but he could call Irvine and go tomorrow.

He waited out Cho's raging with a patience that came from simply having nothing else more important to do - yes, there were calls to be made, and classwork to take care of, but Cho would sleep soon after the events of the day and all her temper. He could do his work then, without missing any time with her. Though it was hard to imagine this as something he particularly wanted to remember, it was still Cho. When she finally calmed down she wasn't particularly in a mood to talk, which suited him just fine as he had no idea what he should say. His own parents were a mystery to him - he couldn't really think of any useful advice to offer her on hers. He let her crawl into his lap, didn't let her feel guilty about the mess - a pointed reminder to her that he'd never liked the little foofy decorations anyway at least won a little laugh - and held her until she slept. Then he carefully laid her down on the futon - carefully so as not to wake her - and slipped out onto the balcony. Kakeru had gotten him the number for the SeeD switchboard, and he wasn't dialing that number anywhere near Cho's apartment. That was just piling stupidity onto already dangerous risk. He leaped from the balcony and called his power, riding the wind across town.

He fed coins into the card machine until he had several hours' worth of time on it. He had a phone card already, but that one was tied to his bank account with the Airstation - again, too obvious a trail. A standard prepaid card would be much harder if not impossible to trace. Once it had time enough on it to guarantee he could reach and speak with Irvine, he took the card to a pay phone and slotted it in, eyeshifted so that he could hear any nuance in the voice on the other end, and dialed the number.

"Balamb Garden switchboard," said an impersonal female voice in the trade tongue SeeD tended to prefer. "How may I direct your call?"

Thank fucking god his father was a SeeD. Gwynt pitched his voice so that it would be harder to identify, and used the best trade tongue he could. "I need Irvine Kinneas, firearms instructor twenty seventh rank."

There was a pause, and Gwynt's shifted senses heard fingers flicking across keyboard keys - most likely looking up the information. "Instructor Kinneas is on leave," the switchboard operator informed him. "I will need his permission to connect you, do you have a message for him?"

Damn SeeD and their stupid secrets and assignments! Gwynt had to bite his tongue not to swear. He knew what the lady meant - if he was one of Irvine's informants, he could leave a number with her and a code phrase that would tell Irvine who he was. If he were someone simply trying to locate Irvine, this was meant to keep him from succeeding. But Irvine hadn't given him any code phrases - he was an Instructor and rarely left the Garden (and what was he doing out of it now, anyway?) so Gwynt was forced to improvise, and quickly. Checking the number on the payphone, he said, "Flying Torama," repeated the phone number, and said, "Urgent and for the next hour."

"I will pass along this information," said the operator equably. "Good day." and the line went dead.

Gwynt hung up the phone and backed away quickly. If he didn't need to talk to his father so badly he would never be doing this, but Squall had impressed upon all his children that if they were going to stay out of Seifer's hands then they needed to always have other plans. Gwynt had been forced to give a phone number - they could trace that right to this pay phone, but he'd anticipated they'd do that anyway. That was why he'd chosen a spot far away from Cho's apartment. But now they knew he'd be here for the next hour, and Balamb Garden had fighter jets more than capable of getting SeeDs to this exact spot in that time if the Garden was anywhere near the continent of Esthar at all. So he took cover, finding a ledge on a nearby building he could wait on, and be mostly unobserved while he listened for the phone's ring. Just please work it out, Gwynt prayed. Work it out before they do. He couldn't be too obscure, or Irvine wouldn't piece together the intent. But being too open would just lead the SeeD right to him. He needed Seifer to stay clueless for at least the next twenty four hours. No matter what, this would be telling Seifer that one of the Pride was in Esthar City, and that was dangerous enough.

No mercenaries came before the phone rang, and Gwynt was such a bundle of nerves he dove right for it when it did.

"Flyboy?" came a worried voice in its familiar Galbadian drawl.

"Irvine?" Gwynt breathed. "Thank the Demon. I need a favor."

"You need a few brain cells," Irvine snapped. "You know Seifer's going to ask me why I didn't have my contacts call me directly. And 'flying torama' isn't going to fool him long at all. You've just gone and announced yourself. Just please tell me you're a long way from your usual places."

"Yeah," Gwynt agreed, and knew not to be more specific. "Look, I didn't have a choice. I had to get hold of you and when the fuck did you go on leave anyway? You said you'd be in the Garden!"

"Yeah, well, it took us long enough, but Sefie's gonna have a baby," Irvine replied. "She's due in about a month. Now what's so damn urgent that you've got to be standing up and shouting 'here I am' in Seifer's ear?"

Gwynt took a deep breath. "Well...you're not the only one having a kid, see," he said tightly. "I found this real nice girl, and I just got married yesterday and -"

"Breathe!" snapped Irvine. "And pray he's not having this call logged. You got a girl pregnant? Hyne, flyboy, what part of 'hiding' completely slipped your mind? I mean, on the one hand congrats on getting a girlfriend, it's more than I expected given your particular brand of utter non-charm, but on the other - you realize that a baby that's as strange as you are is as good as handing Seifer your street address?"

"I didn't mean to!" Gwynt snapped. "And that's why I needed to talk to you, anyway. Irvine, my mother is dead. So are the others' moms. Nobody's survived giving birth to people like me. Not one! I need to talk to my father, Irvine, and you're the only way I've got to reach him. I need to know if this is gonna kill her. I need to know fast. I don't want her dying for a baby but she won't give it up unless I can tell her for sure it'll kill her."

There was utter silence on the other end of the line for several breaths. Then, very quietly, "You don't want to deal with your father on this one, flyboy. You really don't."

"I don't have a choice," replied Gwynt, resigned. "She's getting colder and colder and it's fucking August and August around here has me wishing I could take my skin off. She could die, Irvine. I don't want her to. If that means letting my father bite my head off, then I'm doing that."

"Gwynt, he can't help you. He won't. I know you've got to be worried about your girl, I mean been there done that myself, but you've got no idea what you're asking."

"Do you?" Gwynt demanded. "If you know so goddamned much, Irvine, then you tell me. Will this baby kill her? That's what I have to know. I can't guess, I have to know. Dad has to know, he's still alive and they're all dead, and he has to know who they were or how the hell am I here in the first place?"

Irvine's reply sounded very much like he was trying not to be sick. "Trust me, there are details I wish I didn't know. I wish I could tell you what happened to your birth mother, Gwynt, but frankly if I'd met her I would've shot her. So would he."

"Taran sent out names," Gwynt persisted. "One of them's my mother. Dad could find her couldn't he? I could ask her. Damnit Irvine, I need to know! Are you gonna help or not?"

Another long pause, and Irvine's voice was resigned. "I'll help. I'll take you tomorrow night. I think you're going to regret this, and I'll try to make sure you live to regret it, but when you go, go ready for anything. Your father hasn't got a whole lot of buttons, Gwynt, but what you want is going to push every last one of them."

"Yeah, well he can kick my ass for it later. I'll see you tomorrow."

"He just might," Irvine warned. "Tomorrow. And stay out of sight until then!"

The line went dead, and Gwynt hung the phone up. He wasted no time getting away, but took as roundabout a route as he dared back to Cho's. Irvine had been calling him by name by the end of the conversation - which Gwynt knew meant either so much had been given away that it didn't matter whether names were used, or Irvine had been sure the call wasn't logged. He hoped the latter.

It wasn't until he was back at the apartment and settling down next to Cho to sleep that he wondered why Irvine would have shot his birth mother.

* * * * * *

The next morning Cho was quiet but more or less herself, and they went together to the Airstation. There they split up; Cho had her Instructor's classes to teach, and Gwynt had to tell Kakeru and Kichoumen about himself. This turned out to be a great deal easier than he'd anticipated, even knowing them both as devoted to the Airstation. They had him demonstrate the eyeshift, call a breeze - quite welcome to both of them given the season - and give a demonstration of strength. And that was it.

"No big deal then?" Gwynt had to ask, surprised. "I'd have thought you'd freak."

"Well, when your eyes started doing the swirly day glo thing without warning, yeah," admitted Kichoumen. "But you have to remember - this is Esthar. We had Sorceresses running the show, and Odine and his 'special children' for years. You one of Odine's? There's a few people around like that, though none that anyone would've called a success..."

Kakeru just shrugged. "Gwynt, for a while there were a lot of experiments going on, and there are children - adults now - who are the results. I heard of a girl near the coast that Odine gave gills to, just to see if people could be made to live underwater. I understand your desire to keep a low profile, but really - it sounds like you're perfect for the job you've got." He grinned. "I'll make a deal. If you're willing to lend your breezes to improving the efficiency of my Airstation, I'll tell anybody any lies you like to hide you being the cause."

"You want me to stay here?" Gwynt asked, still surprised that his employers were taking this so well.

"No, that's a bit obvious," Kakeru replied. "I imagine there's at least a few people that would be interested in acquiring you - Odine did enough experiments that there are laws on the books about claiming such people as property - not that I'm laying claim to you!" he said quickly as Gwynt's eyes shifted and he scowled. "Actually, by the laws, you probably belong to Cho if anyone's going to invoke that statute at all. No, you'll keep your rounds, and that'll keep you out of the Airstation and keep my tale-spinning to a minimum. I meant while you're here. Keep the airflow good in the Hangar, so the boys aren't so keen on dropping from heatstroke, cancel the crosswinds so flights can land safely, blow the storms away...get me? Weather's the worst variable on keeping this place efficient."

Well, that was news. He'd thought he was protecting Cho's interests in marrying her, but now it seemed she'd be protecting his, too. He wondered if she'd known about this law, or if she'd be interested in or able to change it. The idea of someone claiming their child as property - assuming both Cho and the child lived - was enough to enrage him. He quickly put a lid on such thinking - he didn't have time for that just now.

"Don't make it obvious," Kakeru warned, and Kichoumen nodded. "Kich and I have been here for many years, known a lot of flyers. You're a bit more literal than the usual breed, but you're still a good pilot and we can use all we get. Some of the others aren't so open minded - Odine's experiments were more often closer to monster than human. Give them time to know you before you pull any stunts, let them know you're still a thinking person under the differences." He paused. "I know you got Iigeru pregnant. That's against you - most of the experiments were sterile, and the ones that weren't ended up making headlines. You and Iigeru have done good work for me, and I'll keep things quiet on the grounds that one of you at least must know what you're doing. But if word gets out about you, and her, there's a good chance somebody's going to get killed."

Gwynt looked down. "If it comes to her life or mine, or her or the baby, she lives. House Iigeru can burn in Ifrit's lowest hell I don't care, but don't let this touch her."

Kichoumen grunted. "Shoulda thought of that sooner. You're just lucky we like her. Nobles aren't usually worth the time it'd take to spit on their graves."

Gwynt crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't know what I am," he admitted. "I might be one o' these experiments, or I might not. That don't make a difference, though, does it?"

"Not to the laws, no," Kakeru agreed. "And honestly, if you hadn't been underfoot as long as you have, I'd hand you over to the labs. As it is, I'm not going to buy the argument you're dangerous. At least, more dangerous than Kich here after a few beers. And Iigeru's got a good head on her shoulders - if she thinks you're worth marrying, then I doubt you're big on world conquest or anything, which puts you above some of the people we've had in charge over the years."

Gwynt just shrugged. He couldn't really think of an answer to that; most of his mind was turning over the idea of talking to his grandfather about these 'experiments' and whether he'd been involved. "I'll keep things as quiet as I can," he said.

"Good. Then get back to work on that jet you left, the customers are bitching. If the sky was clear I'd have you flying - and don't blow the clouds off, we can use the rain. The heat's bad for the equipment."

Gwynt took his leave, and Kichoumen followed behind - and tapped him on the shoulder.

"You don't need to blow the clouds off, but it's hotter'n'ell on the Hangar floor. Little breeze'd be good."

Gwynt's eyes shifted as he stared up at the mechanic. "Buy a goddamn fan, Kich. I ain't goin' for front page news 'cos you're a lousy cheapskate."

Kichoumen laughed, but he left the idea alone. Gwynt wondered how long it would take for him to get used to having people know about him.

* * * * * *

"You said your father was outside Time," Cho stated warily. "So you're not talking about a phone call."

"No," Gwynt agreed pensively. "I got hold of Irvine after you went to bed," he explained, nodding when she recognized the name. "Yeah, that Irvine. He's got a neat trick - he can go outside Time when he's sleeping, and take people with him. He's gonna come tonight and take me."

"And bring you back, I hope," Cho said, only half in jest.

"Me too," Gwynt nodded. "I'll lie down, and he'll see me when I'm asleep. He told me that it'll look like coma to you, when he takes me. I'll still be here, still breathin' an' all, but no..." he waved a hand vaguely, "no response type shit. You could shake me, it won't wake me. Don't shake me, though. Don't touch at all. If Irvine can't find my body, I don't get back. I won't be able to see it, myself."

Cho looked very unhappy. "Why do you have to tell him at all? It's not like we could invite him to the christening."

Gwynt sighed. "Cho, hon, I din't know I could have kids. I really didn't, or I'd'a..." he paused. "At least been more careful than I was, anyway," he admitted. "My father might know somethin' I can use, to make things easier for you. Have to try."

Cho ran her fingers through his curls. "I'm not talking you out of this, am I."

"No," Gwynt agreed, and got undressed. "It might take me a while, so I'll hopefully sleep when it's done." Lying down on the mattress, he said, "If you stay up, you'll know when I'm back 'cos I'll move." He gave her a quick kiss. "I'll be fine. Irvine's goin' with me."

Cho said nothing, and he closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep.

* * * * * *

"Took you long enough," Irvine said, and Gwynt opened his eyes. He could tell by the feel of the air that they were in eternity, and the apartment appeared empty. "I think your wife must still be awake," he confirmed. "Was hoping to see her." He gave Gwynt a thorough look-over. "You don't look too bad. Should I ask what you've been up to, how many people you've managed to not keep your life a secret from?"

"I fly with the Airstation," Gwynt said shortly. "Cho's another pilot. The Station Manager and the head mechanic know about me, nobody else yet."

"You're not very good at keeping secrets," said another voice, and Gwynt turned around to find Squall and Rinoa near the balcony door. "Three people...you haven't been gone all that long."

"I've been busy," growled Gwynt. He hated that tone in Squall's voice, as if Squall found Gwynt's life some sort of amusing joke.

"I'd love to meet your wife," said Rinoa, looking at the rumpled sheets on the futon mattress. "And you have a baby on the way already?" she smiled. "The baby must have come first. I can't imagine you going through with it for any other reason."

Gwynt turned scarlet and looked at the floor. "Yeah," he mumbled, and heard Irvine chuckle. "Um, look. About that -"

"Whoa," cautioned Irvine. "Not here. Griever, a little more out of the way? Don't need the headlines locating him by the falling masonry."

Squall sent Irvine a sharp look; Rinoa raised her arms and the four of them were transported to the purple-silver-black expanses of Griever's realm. To Gwynt it felt like being a kid again, as if the months he'd been away hadn't happened at all. He opened his mouth to say why he'd wanted to come, when Squall turned on him with a glare. "No," he snapped suddenly. "Don't say it."

Irvine sighed. "Warned you," he said. "Squall, take it easy."

Gwynt gaped. "What d'you mean, 'don't say it'?" he demanded. "You pokin' in my head? Then you answer the damn question! Is Cho gonna die because o' this baby?"

Rinoa was breathing heavily, hands held to her temples as if with a migraine; Irvine was already moving forward when Squall threw out a hand and Irvine was pushed away. Although Squall didn't look much different, everyone could feel anger rolling off him. "Irvine warned you," he stated. "I warned you. I don't have the answer you're looking for."

Gwynt had seen that anger in the past, and had learned how much it could hurt. But he wasn't going to back down from this; Cho was everything to him, and if her life was in danger he wanted to know now. "So you fuck people an' you don't care if they die or not?" he snapped. "Fine, I won't argue with that. I've had a few girls myself, no big deal. Taran found names, one of 'em's my mom. You can find anybody, you find her for me and I'll ask her."

"I would rather die than lay eyes on any of those women ever again," growled Squall. "You can look for your answers wherever it pleases you, but leave me out of it. I told Taran, and now I'm telling you - I want nothing to do with your birth families. Ever."

"What about the family I got?" demanded Gwynt. "What about Cho, what about her baby? You got an objection to grandkids like you got an objection to kids?"

Squall's fist moved so fast it wasn't even a blur, and Gwynt felt ribs crack as he was hurled backward. "An objection to children?" Squall almost hissed. "An objection to children? When even looking at you -" his mouth snapped closed, his whole body trembling. "Go find your birth mother, Gwynt ab Llew, you are certainly more like her than you could possibly hope."

"Why?"Gwynt retorted, getting unsteadily to his feet. "Because I give a shit? Because I want somebody to live, instead o' die? D'you fuckin' know my boss told me I count as property in Esthar? That your doing, too?"

Irvine tried to get between them, but moved too slowly. Squall's hand shot out, strong fingers wrapping around Gwynt's throat with every intention of choking. "Because you don't know when to leave well enough alone," he growled. "Because you don't care who you hurt as long as you get what you want! Because you think you have a right to make demands of me!" Fingers tightened, and Gwynt for all his native born strength couldn't pry them loose, couldn't breathe. "If I'd found your mother I would surely have killed her. If you're going to take after her, then I have no problem making sure you never return to the living world to cause anyone trouble."

He couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe, and the world was starting to go black. Abruptly Squall's grip seemed to loosen, and Gwynt threw the strongest punch he could - knocking his father away from him. Gravity was optional in Griever's realm, or he would have fallen, but he coughed and gasped for several minutes as he fought to get air through a crushed windpipe.

Irvine was holding Rinoa's hand, and his eyes were Griever-gold. "Gwynt, you have to go back," he and Rinoa said together. "We'll have to heal him before he wakes. We're sorry."

"You're sorry," Gwynt choked. "You're sorry....right..." almost, almost he would have cried. "Cho could die, an' my father thinks the best way t'deal with that is kill me, too. You're sorry." He coughed hard enough to turn his vision dark, pain from cracked ribs and bruised throat near overwhelming, making his voice cracked and weak. "Cho could die...an' he don't want to answer a fucking simple question."

Rinoa was bent over Squall, casting spells. "Your punch nearly killed him," she said dully. "So please don't talk to me about death right now. Take my word, Gwynt, if you won't believe him or Irvine. I know his life, and he knows nothing that can help you."

Irvine touched Gwynt's shoulder, and they were back at the apartment. In the return of gravity Gwynt hit the floor hard, adding bruises to the collection already acquired. Irvine held out a hand. "Sorry," he said quietly. "It's hard to think straight when we have to do this." He helped Gwynt up, supported him as far as the futon. "You'll be all right?"

Gwynt coughed again, snarling against pain. "I better be," he growled. "She ain't got anyone else she can count on." Looking at Irvine he said, "I din't want to believe Daear. Thought he was a little out there, but he was better'n Detmer an' he'd come if I needed him..." weakly he indicated his throat. "She's right. He gave two shits about me, or any of us, h'wouldn't've..."

Irvine sighed. "If you need me, Gwynt, I'm in Deling City, keeping an eye on Daear. She's pregnant by the son of the Mayor there. If I thought that would help you I'd have told you sooner, but she's stronger than a human woman so it's not a very good measure. I'll leave a number with the Airstation manager for you - if you need someone, give me a call. Sefie's due sometime next month, so if you want to know what's typical I can probably help."

Gwynt nodded heavily. "Thanks. 'M I sittin' right?"

"No," said Irvine. "Here - a little to the left." Gwynt scooted over a bit and Irvine nodded just as he felt a pull. "Sleep as well as you can," he said, and Gwynt felt someone slapping his cheeks lightly. Opening his eyes, Cho was bending over him almost frantically.

"What happened to you?" she demanded. "Are you okay? You said not to touch but your chest - and your neck -"

He reached up and caught her hand. "I'll be okay," he said, and sighed. "He didn't take it too well."