~ All I Want is Everything, Bon Jovi

The Breeding Quarters in Kvinne's Mothering Home had been empty for two months, but its volunteers were still checking in each morning, keeping the place clean and comfortable. It was March; spring was coming. The breeding season. The place would be full again soon.

Katherine Anderson and Marissa Niles dropped Marissa's daughter off at the nursery, then headed back to the Main Commons.

"Did you put your name in for this season?" Katherine asked, smiling, her hands clasped chastely in front of her skirt.

Marissa smirked. "Yes, actually. Ashley and I both did."

"Ah, well, it doesn't surprise me that Ashley did," Katherine sighed. "All boys! Poor dear is lucky that she has you and Trisha, at least."

To this, Marissa just smiled. "And you? You're still young enough to try."

"Marsy, darling, twenty years ago was my last try. I don't have a strong heart like Ashley; having two sons taken from me was simply too hard. I couldn't risk it again."

Marissa stared straight ahead, feeling that it was not her place to speak on this subject. She had her daughter, Trisha, but there were others... her lover, ashley, had lost two boys to the clutching hands of Homem... Jin Li's son had been ripped from her breast and she hadn't been the same since... Lute McDonaghey and Leila Desroubins each had a set a twins, but only the female in each pair had been allowed to stay... and those were only a few of the horror stories.

But that would change soon enough. The red handkerchief in Marissa's breast pocket told others that she thought so.

Serena Bowen was three years younger than Lute McDonaghey, but the former was commanding the latter as if there were a thirty year difference with Serena on top. Lute gave a small sigh and waited for instructions finish; not like she had never done this job before. What was it... ten years with this chore? That sounded right.

It was amusing to some of the other girls to see bossy, loud-mouthed Lute get told what to do in such a demeaning, public display, so they gathered around and snickered as the scene unfolded.

"... in order for every girl to receive her Breeding Duty Announcement and follow the instructions correctly, you must follow your instructions correctly, is that perfectly clear?" Serena said finally.

Lute pursed her lips. "Yes, Serena. Crystal clear." She gripped the pushcart in front of her and shoved it out of the Main Commons and down to the dorm halls, where the first letters were to be delivered.

The Mothering Home was the center and heart of the tiny population of Kvinne. Young women without children lived in the dorms in the East Quarter, while women on the Council, like Serena and Katherine, were located in the lush rooms of North Quarter. West Quarter was an entertainment and socializing center, while the South Quarter contained a nursery for children as well as the local school. All of the houses, which were reserved for mothers or lovers only, were located within one mile of the Mothering Home, along with all stores and restaurants. The women of Kvinne indulged in simple pleasures.

Lute arrived in the East Quarter and checked the room numbers of each announcement. The person who had arranged the announcements this year had had the courtesy to arrange them in number order instead of alphabetical, Lute noted. That, at least, was good.

The first delivery was to a young woman named Kirsten Metsu, whom Lute did not know. She looked a little to old to still be living in the dorms, but there were some women, like Ceja Pierce, that stayed there for as long as it was allowed. Of course, Ceja's circumstances were different, but Kirsten's business wasn't Lute's business, and she would stay out of it (at least until someone found out for her).

Lute's first thought when she saw the next girl was She is much too young to be breeding! I can't deliver this to her! Nina Long was fifteen, and she took her announcement with resigned disappointment.

Adriana Garcia and Calica Williams followed, both excited at the prospect of their first breeding; Calica seemed to already be spinning some wild fantasy about her breeding partner.

She would be bitterly disappointed. No matter what others warned her, poor girl, she would create those dreams, just to have them shattered.

It had happened before.

Lute had two deliveries for the next girl, with whom she was close to despite the age difference; age mattered little in a place where twelve year-olds had children and women going through their Change were sent out of the city to live the rest of their lives and die alone.

Gabrielle Adler, seventeen, blonde and shy, answered the door and smiled. "Hello, Lute," she said. "What's the occasion?"

Deliveries for you, Gabby," Lute replied, giving her the two letters. "One from the Council, and one from me."

"From you?" Gabrielle raised an eyebrow and opened the first letter, scanning it. "Oh! Lauren started her cycles!"

Lute was grinning fit to burst. On Kvinne, when a girl got the first of her monthly cycles, she was legal to breed and it was a cause for huge celebration and pride. Lute's daughter, Lauren, was thirteen, and Gabrielle grinned as she scanned the invitation. "She's too young to be breeding, though."

"I won't register her for another year. She won't be like Leila."

Gabrielle sighed. "Twelve years old and birthing twins. Poor Leila."

"It's a miracle she survived." Lute said. "I won't put my daughter in that kind of danger... but it would be a shame to make her wait for the party. She's been looking forward to it since I explained the cycles to her."

"Do you know what her wish is going to be?" Gabrielle asked, referring to the Kvinne tradition of a new young woman's greatest wish being granted at her party.

"No clue. Hope it's something I can get." The brunette grinned. "So you're coming?"

"Wouldn't miss it!" Gabrielle smiled. "Now, what's this other?" She picked up the more formal-looking letter, with it's red stamp and gold trim.

"Announcement. You've been chosen for Breeding this year." Lute's grin grew wider, into what other's considered her trademark 'I-Know-Everything-You-Don't' grin. "Isn't this your first time, Gabby?"

"Say nothing, old woman!" Gabrielle retorted. Lute's face fell.

"I'm not old!" She insisted, pouting like a child. "Twenty-eight! That's all! Honest!"

"Deliver the rest of your letters, Lutelles," Gabrielle smirked, playfully smacking Lute's backside. "Don't let Grace or Serena catch you socializing on the job."

Lute scowled, but carried on down the hall, humming a song that Gabrielle didn't recognize. The young blonde shut her door and glanced at her Breeding Announcement again. She was excited, but to be perfectly honest, she was frightened too. Horror stories of abusive and heartless men reached her ears constantly, and as she noted Lauren's party onto her desk calendar, she couldn't help the terrible, blood-filled images that invaded her mind.

"I need to stop talking to Ceja," she muttered with a sigh. "Nothing will happen. Nothing."

"Oh, wow," Lute blinked. "All of you have announcements this year."

On the floor of Ceja Pierce's room sat a small circle of women, all with red handkerchiefs in their breast pockets. "Is this something to do with Enhet?" Lute asked.

Ceja grabbed the letters (announcements and invitations for every girl in the room), looking exasperated. "Maybe. Why, do you want in now?"

Lute snorted. "You're kidding, right?"

"No."

"Then no, Cej, not interested." Lute grinned. "What are you guys up to?"

The girls on the floor, Marissa, Ashley Magiolocco, Leila Desroubins, and Christina Thornton, stayed stubbornly silent. Lute's mouth twitched.

"Well, fine. I'll drag it out of Tina later." Dark-haired Christina giggled sheepishly; she and Lute were currently in the off-portion of their relationship, where Christina lived in a dorm room and was Lute's closest friend. There were other times where they lived together, but these never lasted longer than a month or two. "And you're all coming to Lauren's party, right?"

"Of course. Now get!" Ceja grabbed Lute by the shoulders and shoved her out the door before she could protest. "Okay, we're ready?"

"Make sure she's not listening at the door," Christina advised, grinning. "She does that."

Ceja moved the red curtain over the window in the door and checked. Lute had moved off down the hall and was exiting the building to deliver messages to breeders outside the Mothering Home. "We're okay," she relayed. "Check and make sure you were all really accepted."

"Cej, we wouldn't get these if we weren't accepted," Marissa sighed, rolling her eyes. The others, however, were already opening their letters and reading them, their eyes moving back and forth across the page.

"All right," Ceja said when it seemed everyone had finished. "The plan is in motion. Do we have any last minute questions?"

The girls were quiet.

"All right. Then Enhet business is over. Let's discuss gifts for Lauren's party."

Ceja joined her girls on the floor and they bent their heads in, gossiping and chatting like pre-teen schoolgirls.

While Ceja was kicking Lute out of her dorm, a buzzer was sounding in the open-air hangar of sector 401 on Homem. Men, their muscles straining against their thin black shirts, cried out with weak relief. They had all been working since six, and it was now eleven-thirty. Lunch and coffee break for an hour and a half before more work until eight.

No one complained. Hard work now made for later great satisfaction.

Samuel Warren slammed the hood of his jet down and hooted, his arms covered from fingertip to elbow in grease and oil as her prepped her for a test flight. "Aw, I've been waiting for this!"

"Think we got picked?" His rusty-haired co-pilot, Christopher Feldman, asked from the cockpit.

"Hey, we know you did," Samuel grinned, removing his helmet, his dark-blonde hair impeccable thanks to his conformist gel, and replacing his dark glasses; working in the open-air meant always having to wear those glasses in order to protect the eyes. "You have no boys. Guys like you are guaranteed a spot in a Breeding Room every time they apply."

Christopher scowled. "Thanks for the reminder, Sam."

The blonde pilot grinned and clapped his friend on the shoulder. "Sorry, Chris. Really."

On a normal day, the pilots and technicians would have gone straight to the break room to start eating and socializing, but today, most ran to the front office, where the names of the men selected for this year's breeding were listed.

Samuel dragged his finger down the list. "...Hey, Chris! Just like I said, you're up here!"

Christopher beamed, his eyes shining. "Yes! Another try!"

Samuel smiled. "I'm here too! Hope this one's a girl; Dinny and Tanny are enough." He sighed, shaking his head; his two sons, Dante and Tanner, were both toddlers, and as much a handful to their father as their father was to the chiefs and heads at the hangar.

"Why would you sign up if you didn't want more?" Rowan Mathison asked, smiling softly. "I would think-"

"Yeah, you would," Samuel smirked. "Hey, you're on here too. You and Shawn want another?"

Rowan blushed gracefully. His lover, Shawn McCollin, had given twins to his breeding partner, and had been lucky enough to receive one child out of it; his precious Alec. Rowan, shy and sensitive, had no children of his own. "Yeah. Alec's seven now. He's getting big, and I missed out on the first few years."

"Lucky you," Samuel breathed. "Hey, um, Rowan... your hair...?"

Rowan sighed and used his hands to sweep his unruly hair back. "Do you have any gel on you?" He asked; in Homem, conformity was emphasized by gelling the hair back and out of the face. With their hair slicked tightly out of their faces, even a blonde like Samuel wouldn't look too different from a red-head like Christopher.

"Sorry," Samuel shrugged. Christopher shook his head as well.

"Here," Richard Jones said, pulling a white packet from his pocket and putting it in Rowan's hand. "Use the whole thing. You need more of it than I do." He grinned, a charming thing that could disarm even Rowan, who was fairly anti-social.

Rowan smiled back in thanks and tore the packet open, squeezing gel into his palm and running it through his unruly hair. The scent of alcohol and spice wafted through the air.

"Hey, Rich!" Christopher cried, his finger on the list. "You're on here?"

Richard's face lit up. "Really? Yes!" He pushed his way to Christopher's side. "Does it say who with?"

"Only for people with requests, or who have bred before and want the same woman, like me" Christopher said with a grin. "Otherwise, you choose when you get there."
"Are there a lot of girls going?" Richard asked.

"Yeah, for all the good it does," Samuel rolled his eyes. "Don't even have pictures."

Richard studied the list anyway; the names, ages, and amount of children bred were available, and that was good information to consider. "What does that mean?" he asked, pointing to the star beside the name of Ceja Pierce.

Samuel studied it and wrinkled his nose. "Means she caught pregnant, but had a miscarriage. I wouldn't recommend her."

"Go for a new one," Christopher advised. "They're more fertile, I've heard."

"You've done this, what, once?" Richard responded. "In this area and this area alone, I trust Sam more."

"Hey thanks!" Samuel said, grinning. "... Wait..."

"So who do you pick?" Rowan asked, each lock of hair now firmly secured into place.

"Who do you guys pick?" Richard asked. "'Cause I have no idea."

"Oh, hey! Hey, guys!" Christopher called. "The intern is on this list!"

"The intern?" Samuel shouted. "Marco? Is he even legal?"

"If he's still in the university, he's too young," Christopher said. "Even if just our of moral or practical standards."

"How old is he? Nineteen?" Richard asked. "He'll graduate before he gets the kid, if he's as smart as he needs to be to get this internship."

"Yeah," Rowan agreed. "He wouldn't sign up for breeding if he didn't think he was ready anyway."

They all fell silent, staring at the list, a moment of meditation. All four of them had been selected for that year's breeding. By next month, they would be waiting to hear if their woman had caught pregnant or not. By the month after that, they would be anxious to hear if the child was a girl or a boy. So many questions and possibilities were sparked by this list. What would the answers be?

The high school in sector 401 was in its midday siesta (a word they used for a reason they didn't know) before they were able to check the list. The students were too young to be mating (though there was more than one couple leaving the campus with their hands entwined), but all faculty members were over twenty, and thus legal to breed.

Angelo Asarro was sipping coffee and smiling as his co-workers, Ethan Skinner, Bart Lilken and Isaac Guarrani, scampered around the list, excited by the names and trying to narrow down the best partners.

"None for you this year, Dan?" Angelo asked the dark-haired man across the table.

Daniel Riccio shook his head, smiling. "Mikey's enough right now."

"He's thirteen, right?"

"Yeah..." Daniel was smiling wistfully; his son, Michael, was his pride and joy. "He'll be here next year."

"As we're all well aware." Angelo rolled his eyes. By the list, an argument seemed to be stirring between Bart and Ethan, which was no surprise; Bart's jocular nature constantly got on Ethan's nerves. Isaac, of course, was on Bart's side.

"Want to get involved, Ange?" Daniel asked carelessly as Bart shoved Ethan.

"I want the Man to get involved," Angelo responded, making Daniel laugh.

The Man was yet another term the men of Homem used, unaware of its origin. "The Man" was what civilians on Homem called their brutal police force. Whenever the Man was called, someone usually ended up dead. They were ruthless, and killed those who opposed them without even thinking about it. The sound of gunfire on Homem was equal to the sound of birds on Kvinne; constant and ignored except for various occasions.

"Hey! Stop fighting and check this out!" Isaac yelled, pointing at the list. Bart and Ethan stopping shouting into each others' faces and returned their attention to the list. "Come on, Dan, Ange, look at this!"

Daniel raised his eyebrows and stood up, Angelo close behind. "What?"

Isaac grinned, pointing at the paper. "We got Councilmen mating."

Daniel's head jerked back in surprise. "What? Councilmen don't mate without direct permission from the High Priest!"

"And yet we got three going," Isaac laughed. "Louis Ballatt... Isaac Tatum... and Nicolas Meyers."

Daniel and Angelo checked the list. Angelo drew back, sighing, "Wow..."

"They must want to check out some of these first-timers," Ethan suggested. "There's so many new women this year."

"Are you guys on here?" Angelo asked.

"Just me," Ethan answered. "Isaac and Bart didn't sign up."

"I always wondered something," Daniel smirked. "What's the appeal of the Breeding List? The only time I was ever interested in it was when my name was on it thirteen years ago."

"Yeah, well... you're boring," Bart joked. The teachers laughed, even Daniel. Below the joyful sound was a rain of gunfire, but no one heard it. They had all stopped hearing it years ago.

"I am John Kelly, head of Homem Council. Speak if you hear me."

John was a high-cheeked man with serious brown eyes, his dark hair slicked back like the rest of them. He stood in his quarters before a large screen, the kind only he and High Priest Alastair VII were allowed to use. On the screen was the face of a woman, her red hair soft against her green eyes and clashing with the pink of her sweatervest.

"I am Grace Durnin, head of Kvinne Council. I can hear you perfectly, Mr. Kelly."

"Good evening, Ms. Durnin," John said placidly, nodding his head. "I'm calling to see if preparations are under way for this year's breeding?"

"Yes," Grace replied. "We have girls working right now to get our Breeding Center clean, and the selected women for this year were notified this morning."

"Fantastic, Ms. Durnin." John smiled. "I've admired your control and organization since you were elected."

Grace allowed a small smile. "I'm honored and flattered by your kindness, Mr. Kelly."

"May I ask, Ms. Durnin..?" John sounded slightly embarrassed. Behind him, a man with curls jutting over his forehead took a seat on the bed, wearing his black shirt and trousers, smiling patiently.

Grace's smile widened. "Mary will be breeding next year, so you may see her then. Hannah has decided to carry on with her schooling." Her eyebrows perked haughtily. "Like her mother. Good evening, Mr. Jacobs."

The man on the bed nodded in greeting. John stared at Grace.

"I don't think your women understand that when we lose our chances for children, we feel as much loss as they do."

Grace paused. "I understand, Mr. Kelly."

"Of course you do. You bore my children. But luck has it that I may keep up with them. There are others... Nicolas Meyers. His mate had a girl, and he is so lonely, Ms. Durnin." John sighed. "He is very lonely."

"I understand, Mr. Kelly," Grace repeated. "We have such cases here as well."

"As is expected. Women are sensitive creatures."

"Yes, Mr. Kelly," Grace agreed.

"Before we sign off, Ms. Durnin," John continued. "I have heard rumors of rebel groups on your planet. How much of this is true?"

"We have uncovered the idea of a group known as Enhet," Grace reported casually. "This group promotes unity between men and women-"

"Including romantically and sexually?" John interrupted.

"Yes."

"Disgusting."

Grace hesitated. "Yes, Mr. Kelly. Shall I continue?"

"Carry on."

"Enhet promotes the way from Before Homem. They wear red handkerchiefs in their breast pockets, but they have shown no intent to harm anyone, so we let them pass."

John narrowed his eyes, thinking. "I'm not sure that's the best method, Ms. Durnin."

"If they take action, we will handle them, Mr. Kelly."

John thought for a moment longer. "All right. Thank you, Ms. Durnin. I will contact you in a few days for shuttle arrangements."

Grace nodded docilely. "Good evening, Mr. Kelly, Mr. Jacobs."

"Good evening, Ms. Durnin."

The screen blinked into blackness. John turned to the blue-eyed man behind him, rubbing his temples. "I hate this time of year, Dave."

David Jacobs, co-head of the Council and John's lover, smiled. "Of course. This is when you do the most work."

John sat on the bed beside David. "Talking to Grace about my girls is the only highlight. The rest is stress, anger... and fear."

David removed John's jacket, folded it, and placed it under the bed. "Fear of what, Jack?"

"High Priest Alastair VII." John shuddered. "If I mess things up... I don't even want to think about it."

David nodded, pretending to understand. Even though he was second in command, he had no where near as much work, as much to worry about, as his lover did. "Just calm down. You've been doing this for years, Jack, and things have always run smoothly. Why should that change now?"

John's eyes narrowed. "Enhet. It's different. If they get too many members in that Enhet thing, Homem may be overrun."

David laughed at that. "They're women, Jack! There's a reason they're not allowed to live here any longer: they're weak. If some want to fight, we'll kill them. They have no knowledge of violence or fighting; they'll be wiped out." He nuzzled John's throat with his nose. "So no worries, Jack. Just come to bed. Worry about this in the morning." His hand found John's and he squeezed it comfortingly. "You're John Kelly right now, not Head of the Council. Be my man, not the High Priest's."

John licked his lips, realizing for the millionth time exactly why he'd chosen David as both lover and second. They kissed briefly, then lay down to sleep.

John would worry about things in the morning.

***AUTHOR'S NOTE***

DUN DUN DUN. It's finally here! Wow. Took me long enough. ^_^;

So here's the deal: nicknames are only used during breeding, a way to keep the men and women from getting too attached to each other. Otherwise, they use real names, i.e. Gabrielle Adler is Blaze to her breeding partner. It makes more sense that way.

List of Newsies Real Names vs. Nicknames:

John Kelly = Jack

Richard Jones = Pie Eater

Angelo Asarro = Itey

Daniel Riccio = Snitch

Louis Ballatt = Kid Blink

Isaac Tatum = Skittery

Nicolas Meyers = Mush

Marco Gutierez = Bumlets

There will be more as we move along, but those are the ones from this chapter.

There are both subtle and blatant cultural differences between the men and women. Anyone who can see and guess the subtle ones will be God for a Day. ^_^; **cough** Okay, I'm done screwing around. I have three projects coming up (A fic for Shortie; a Snitch/Skitts fic inspired by a drawing I did; and a new chapter of WtTR), so look out for those. I'm also trying to get a new chapter of Angel of Sin, Demon of Virtue out. But enough pre-plugging. I'm off to force out a post for the RPG. Chow folks and don't forget to boost my ego; I'm 16 and 11 months today! XD