Fic: Camelot: Who's the Daddy Now?
Camelot: Who's the Daddy Now? 1?probably 1.. Maybe.. I don’t ...
Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing
Warning: Sexual themes and lemonus interuptus.
There weren’t any actual beaches on Camelot. Real tides would have played hell with the artificial gravity and it wasn’t like Duo was going to import a whole ocean biome, and he knew that, because he’d thought about it. Maki had really advocated for it. While he sympathized with her desire to be in the ocean, okay, well, maybe not so much, but the virtual beach was more than good enough for him.
He could feel the cool wet sand under the bare soles of his feet as he ran and the tide pulled back out. His braid was shorter, reaching only to the middle of his back, which was bare and marked with lines from Heero’s whip. The body he was in was slender, young, no more than 18/19.
Heero’s general was older, much more powerful, and he had a horse.
Heart racing, Duo ran as if he were an escaping British boy running from the Roman general who owned him. His short slave toga was ripped at the shoulders, brushing over his smooth thighs as he ran. It was also made of silk, because that felt better than linen or wool.
Heero’s horse nearly roared as he came down the beach after him, hooves slapping the wet sand, splashing, and Duo turned to look, to watch his beautiful Heero, hair just gray at the temples for this fantasy, body powerful and strong, at one with the great white beast he rode, and Duo forgot to breath. Under his breath, he whispered, “Run, run, run, fuck it, run!”
Under the obvious layer of the fantasy, he could feel Heero’s excitement, his hunger, primal and sacred to them as he ran. He knew his own matched. He wanted to be caught, to be held, to be taken, and when Heero’s arm caught him, lifting him up, even as they allowed physics to be ignored, he kicked and cried out. Dumped over the front of the saddle, which was also comfortable for him as if having been pre-designed, he howled and kicked.
One hand on the reins, Heero pulled the short toga up with his other had delivered a loud spank to that firm ass. “Enough with your wailing, slave. I’m going to use your pretty little ass like the cock glove it is!”
Heero was the historian, but Duo didn’t that was an historically accurate phrase and he didn’t care. “Oh god,” he begged, his anus tingling and memories of Heero’s cock making him moan, “No! Please!”
There was a moment when their feelings brushed against each other, entwining around how excited they both were and Heero touched his finger to Duo’s clenched tight entrance. “Relax, slave! I will take what’s mine!”
And then Pikachu appeared about ten paces before Heero’s horse, who had enough AI running it to make him rear in fear at the yellow tuxedoed man with pink spots on his cheeks. Duo slipped and Heero only barely managed to keep him from landing on his ass, but just back on his feet.
“Oh get out,” Duo groaned. One of the last things in all the universe he wanted was for this pesky, invasive AI to have any idea what he liked sexually.
Pikachu pulled his top hat off, holding it over his non-existent heart. “Oh? Am I interrupting something? A little bit of historical recreation, perhaps? General Yuy... I don’t think a BDSM saddle is historically accurate, do you?”
“I’m not sure my ethics prevent me from terminating you,” Heero said without emotion.
Pikachu made a tsking sound. “And here.. I just was trying to help Moody and Julia. I’ve always been so fond of Julia.”
Duo sighed, hands on his hips. “Out with it, Pika. What do you want?”
“The ladies are stuck in the tempus portal. It seems they have exceeded their allowed volume of foreign material. I hate for them to degrade and lose their valuable treasure.”
Duo sighed louder. “Heero-bair... Twenty minutes.”
Heero swung off the horse, a dark blue cloak already in his hands to lay around Duo’s shoulders. “I’m coming with you.” He said it firmly, a loving hand on Duo’s shoulder.
And so there they were, still wearing pseudo Roman costume when Moody and Julia came the way through the portal with their over volume luggage.
They all stood there staring at each other for a goodly while. It had been nearly five years since they’d been in the same room, since the Thanksgiving that they’d told their dad they were going to take up bounty hunting and Duo had laughed so hard that he’d spayed eggnog across a near two meter range. Roy was still pissed. Apparently, it is very difficult to be full of righteous authority with recently licked eggnog dripping down one’s face. I’m sorry can only do so much, after all.
Duo tilted his head and stared. “Is that supposed to be ‘armor’,” he asked, feeling very glad he didn’t have any eggnog in his out.
Nearing her fifty-third birthday, Moody looked too young to get into a bar, unless it was Kansas in the 1950’s. Her green curls were pulled up into pigtails. She wore a one piece something that looked vaguely metallic with a high collar and breasts like melted funnels. Julia wasn’t much better, even though he was dressed in a more masculine form, his pink hair done in a Duo’esque braid. There was even what Duo thought might be a laser burn across one shoulder, but not a real one, just something painted on. “What the hell, Moody? You all need money for body armor or something?”
Moody crossed her arms, head bobbing back and forth like she was a cobra, or a disappointed relative. “I’m wearing the latest in camouflage from L1, bought with my own money, thank you. But what are you wearing, Granddad?”
“Yeah, Dad,” Julia added in, face tight and long in disapproval. “Did you shave your legs?”
“Excuse me,” the timid man behind them said softly, “I say, excuse me!”
All eyes turned his way and there he was a very proper tweed wearing man a crooked bowtie and a look of near terror on his face.
“Hey,” Duo greeted him, pulling his blue cloak closed around his very not proper clothing. “Welcome to Camelot.”
“You mean,” he said, nearly stammering, “You mean like the British King Arthur?”
“Yeah,” Duo said, grinning crookedly like this new guy got it. Maybe he wouldn’t be so bad.
“Well, that won’t do, you see, I’m Irish. I’m Patrick O'Shaughnessy, and this here is my lovely wife, Allis. I thought we were going to.. Heaven.”
Duo pointed at Moody. “I bloody well told you to stop saying that. It never works out well.”
Allis stepped forward, a shy redhead with freckles and green eyes. Her dress was a bit too long, Duo thought, so maybe second hand and not taken up well. “So tis isn’t Heaven then,” she asked softly, eyes barely able to meet any of their eyes.
“It isn’t heaven,” Duo said gently. “Are you okay?”
She dry washed her hands, teeth chewing at her lower lip. “If isn’t Heaven, where are we?”
“It’s Camelot. This is a space station. You’ve been brought forward in time. What was the date when you woke up this morning?”
“It’s April 18, in the year of our lord 1906,” she whispered. “The city was falling down. It was the end of the world,” she said, voice rising as she spoke, both hands protective over her slightly rising belly.
“OH yeah,” Duo said, “San Francisco survived. The world survived. And here you are!”
Patrick clapped his hands, “Now see here. I want to speak with God. I’ve had quite the day and I really just need time to speak with God.”
“Paddy,” Allis said impatiently, “now is not the time for prayer.”
“I’ve really had quite a day. It’s been years long and I was promised a chat with God.”
Duo glared hard at Moody, who scratched behind her ear. “Now, I said you could talk to our father who was responsible for all of us.”
“Like the All Father,” Julia said, grinning as if he were being helpful.
Duo made a grand gesture of pointing at both of them. “Liar, liar, pants on fire. I am responsible for this colony though. And as my first task, I shall tell you, Mr. Patrick O'Shannessy that they lied to you. There is no God. Yer gettin’ a better deal than most.”
“What do you mean there’s no God,” Patrick said, pulling his rosary out, kissing it and counting beads as if he were going to get some explanation right away.
“It does take a bit of time to settle in,” Duo agreed. “But that’s okay, you gonna be fine.”
“Excuse me,” Allis said softly, tugging at the cloak.
“Yeah,” he asked, really wishing he’d put on better clothes because shy religious women.
“Do ya mean it, that there’s no God?”
“Yes, I’m sorry. I suppose, well, I mean, there could be, we just haven’t found him yet.”
“Miss Moody said you were Catholic!” Patrick accused.
“Yeah, yeah, Catholic,” Duo said looking shifty, shrugging, “But I’m gonna back slid for like seven centuries. One kinda loses count.”
Allis tugged at his cloak again, a bit of blush on her cheeks. Suddenly he wondered just how old she was. What was age of consent in 1906? “Yes?”
“Does that mean I don’t have to’ave a lot of children?”
“Oh sweetie,” Duo said, brushing stray red curls back from her face. “You don’t have to have any, if you don’t want. You and you alone control your body.”
“And I don’t hafta, uh, well, you know, if I don’t want to?”
“Of course not,” Duo said. “Not even the one you’re carrying now, if you don’t want.”
“But I want a big family! If we’re not dead, then we have an obligation.”
Duo held up his hand. “You can have as many children as you want, Patrick. Once you’re settled in and clear headed.”
“See there,” Patrick said, looking down his nose at his trembling little wife. “We will be having children. No more silliness now!”
“Naw,” Duo said, making another dramatic gesture to point both fingers at Patrick who was doing his best to give the stink eye back. “Ah said you can have’em, if ya want’em. Including this one. You should try it. Carrying a pregnancy is the bomb diggity, if it’s what you want.”
She tugged on his cloak again and he gave her a gracious smile. “Um?”
“And I can’t get in trouble? My Da won’t know?”
“You’re safe here, Ms. Allis. Your body and your life is your own.”
“She’s my wife!” Patrick said, reaching out his hand to grab her arm. “I’ll not have her talking to strange men in dresses.”
Heero stepped in front of Allis, defending both her and Duo. “No grabbing,” Heero growled, low and deep, every bit the Roman general.
“Moody,” Duo said, “What’s yer pitch for these refugees? At the moment, I’m only half feeling it, if you know what I mean?”
“No, no,” Moody said holding up both hands. “I need him! He’s a material witness against Derek Vray!”
Duo groaned, rolling his eyes. “You gonna need better body armor! I’ll accept Allis as a full refuge. You can put Patrick in restriction.” Duo pointed at Patrick. “April 18, 1906 was a terrible day in San Francisco. The city burned. Many bodies were never found. You cause me trouble, they’re gonna find your body. You both died that day. Your marriage is void. If you want to marry Ms. Allis again, you’ll need to woe and get her consent.”
“Her father gave me her hand in marriage,” Patrick said indignantly.
“And maybe you paid him with a goat. I don’t care. Until our doctor declares that she’s reached her majority, I’ll stand in for her father.”
He turned to the girl who was wringing her hands.
“What do you want in your life, Allis? You can have anything you want,” Duo promised.
Her head came up, green eyes wide and earnest. “May I learn to read, Sir?”
“Yeah,” he said, “And we have everything humanity has ever written that you can read.”
“Nasty English bastards, stealing a man’s wife!”
“Oh for god’s sake,” Duo snapped as he pointed to Heero, “I’m not stealing your wife. People are not property that can be stolen, buf for what it’s worth, this is my husband.”
The color drained from Patrick’s face and he kissed his crucifix. “I’ve gone ta Hell.”
Moody patted him on the back. “Granddad’s not that bad.”
“Wait,” Patrick said, “He’s your grandfather. He’s her, his, her father, but the two of you are lovers. I just... I just have no words.”
“That’s not a bad place to be in,” Julia offered helpfully.
“Crap, Moody, are you sleeping with Julia?”
Moody shrugged, nodded, looked at the ceiling.
“Don’t tell yer dad for a bit. He’s almost not pissed at me.”