June 29, 2000
Everyone wants to know where Trowa is... he's one of Heero's backup dancers. ^_^ And he fell onto Quatre when the stage broke.
Thank you sooo much to everyone who responded to Superstar! It was just a kind of daydream turned ficlet turned big fic. Just something to satisfy my own morbid fantasies...
ja ne
~ana~
Part Five later tonight. ^_^
Dedicated to Mini, who always makes me laugh. ^_^
Warnings: OOCness. Severe severe OOCness. But hell, I had fun writing it and I hope you have fun reading it.
I've taken the...coughcough...liberty of using songs from the 1990's and the...er...00's. Pretend they're from AC 195.
For the best effects, listen to the song posted at the beginning of
each part while reading. ^_^
This part's song is "Bring It All to Me". ^.^ I think you all know
who sings this one...(Blaquecoughcoughcoughsptoocoughcough)...
"I'm fine," Heero insisted, seeing Duo reenter the tent with Lt. Wufei in tow. In truth, he would have liked nothing better than smacking the braided boy upside the head a few dozen times. First he started a fight, saying it was for the protection of Heero's honor, then refused to let him walk, instead carrying him to Duo's tent instead of his own. And then he ignored Heero as he tried to just get him to give him some ice, saying he was fine. He smiled unpleasantly at the boy, but he didn't seem to notice. "Just got a little headache. I really appreciate you doing this, but--"
"Hush," the braided boy insisted, blocking his exit. "It would have been nice if you'd just stopped at 'you'." Heero blinked twice and his mouth opened to question Duo, only to have something round and hard tap his front teeth.
"Here. Have a sucker." Heero nearly choked, but obligingly took hold of the red lollipop. Cherry. "Look up, please," he added as Wufei knelt in front of the bed, holding a small flashlight. "A concussion?" he asked in a low voice, as if Heero weren't even there. His superstar pride flinched, but the human part of him, the part that appreciated the crystal purple of his eyes and the long, massively destructive weapon that was his braid, cheered.
Wufei's cold black eyes raked over him and Heero prepared himself for the barrage of questions. They always asked questions, asked more of him than he was willing to give. Instead, he turned away, snapping the flashlight off. Outside, it was so quiet Heero could hear the crickets, but he could still see silhouettes of anxious soldiers. He snorted. If it was anyone else, no one would care. As it was, the cancelled concert and the fall would probably be all over the news within 12 hours. He'd better lay low for the rest of the two weeks, or else he could kiss his money goodbye.
"Don't let him fall asleep." Then he left, Heero gaping after him. Duo snickered at the befuddled expression plastered on his tanned face.
"So, it looks like it's you and me, buddy." He heard voices, and then a loud curse.
A few seconds later, two Hispanic boys popped their heads into the tent. "Hey," they said in unison, almost uneasily. "Duo? May we speak with you for a minute, man?" Heavy Mexican accents marred perfect grammar.
Duo shot them a cold look, but got up, eyeing Heero as he left. He could hear them arguing, and then finally, they filed into the tent, looking sheepish. "Hey man," one of the guys said, "are you really Heero Yuy?" Duo elbowed him rather obviously in the gut, undermining the reason he'd elbowed him.
"Yeah. Who're you?" It came out a little ruder than he'd wanted and he had the grace to blush.
"Angel. And this is Carlos, man. He doesn't speak much." They looked at each other, speaking without words. "We've got this friend, man. Like a sister to us. She loves you. Won't stop talking about you. Nearly blew out our eardrums when she found out you were coming." Heero took a long suck on the lollipop to give himself time to regroup. Just what he needed; more nervous, shifty men, looking at him as if he'd deliberately subverted their females' minds. Duo wasn't like that, he reminded himself. He watched as Duo swatted at flies absently with the tail end of his braid. But then, Duo was...Duo.
"Aa," he said, realizing they were waiting for him to say something. "Did you want me to do something for her?" An autographed picture, probably. If Fate was really toying with him today, a date.
They wanted an autograph, it turned out. Sighing, Heero flopped back onto the bed, feeling his head swim. Just a few minutes, and then he'd be fine the rest of the night... He was nearly out when Duo's voice cut through the fog, sweet and low.
"Carlos and Angel are cool, man. There's a lot of Mexican guys here; kinda like their own family. You've gotta meet Jose and the gang..." Heero let his words float over him in a strange, watery beat. "You wanna get something to eat?"
He *was* hungry.
"Okay." He got up too fast and felt himself start to fall over; Duo was there, one arm steadying him. Two hand remained clapped to his shoulder; he glared at the offending flesh and heard a soft 'eep' as the American withdrew it.
"This way." He led them to a large area filled with laughing, drinking men. For now, there was no war to worry about and they were celebrating. Heero found that a little more than unsettling; Dr. J had connections to many important politicians and Heero found many of them less dependable than many of the soldiers he'd met. If he knew his future, and possibly life, were in the negotiating hands of someone like that, he'd be too worried to celebrate.
Heero supposed that was what made other people normal. "Sit down, I'll grab us some drinks." Then Duo was gone, lost in the pulsing, moving mass of green. No sooner had a strong hand grabbed his shoulder than he was sitting and he was thrown unceremoniously into a seat beside two men he recognized as Angel and Carlos.
There were others, too, that he remembered had booed him as he took the stage, staring at him with a mixture of curiosity and dislike. Like he was a porcupine in a petting zoo. "H-hi," he said, berating himself for feeling foolish. They were just normal people...
"H-hi," one of the men mocked. "Little boy. Come down from your castle to play with the common folks, huh? A publicity stunt, perhaps?" He was closer to the mark than Heero cared to admit.
"Go back to your tower, Heero Yuy. We don't need your pity here."
Duo chose that exact moment to come back, two cold beers in each hand. Although he missed the man's words, he didn't miss the look on Heero's face. All the blood had drained away from his face. "Hey guys," he said, looking from Carlos to Angel. "We playing nice here?"
Heero flinched at the world 'playing'.
"The best part," Duo sighed as everyone turned to face a center circle of grass. "Music and stuff," he explained. "Anyone can sing." He winced as the first singer hit a particularly sour note. "Well...most anyone can sing."
"Yeah, unfortunately," Angel put in, laughing. "Duo sings at least one of your songs every day. We've got to pry the microphone from his fingers if anyone else wants a turn Some of us who aren't so deaf--" He punched Carlos lightly. "--Have started to memorize them."
To Heero's surprise, all of the songs were old, archaic, and outdated; and thanks to his friendship with Zechs, he was roughly familiar all of them. Duo laughed as the microphone was passed his way, trying to shove it away, declining politely.
"C'mon, Duo. Don't tell me you're shy?" Quatre, who entered with Trowa on his arm, blushed as Duo whistled loudly. "I'm sure Heero would sing with you..." He wiggled his eyebrows in an obscene gesture.
Duo groaned as Angel and Carlos started pounding the table in a familiar beat. Boom. Boom boom. Boom. Boom boom. "You're going to be the death of me," he sighed, scooping the microphone off the ground. "If you know the song..." He bowed. "I'd be honored if you'd join me, Highness."
"Highness?" Heero could feel himself blushing. The knowledge that he *was* blushing made him redden even more.
"You *are* the King of Pop, aren't you? Or at least, you're dating Relena and *she's* the Queen of Pop, so..." Duo shrugged. "Just sing if you know it... This place likes golden oldies."
"There you are," Duo began in a slightly nasal girl's voice, then stopped as he started to giggle hysterically. He regained composure quickly, and took a flying leap onto the table, planting his feet on the bench next to Heero. "Lookin' as fine as can be in your fancy car..."
He snorted. "I can tell you're lookin' at me, whatcha wanna do?" He was really getting into it now, waving his arms and rocking back and forth. "You just gonna sit there and stare?" Heero wanted to duck under the table as the catcalls poured forth.
Duo was in his element. He could see the faint reddening at the very tips of his ears; kawaii! "Baby, talk to me. Tell me what's on your mind, baby..." He dragged one long finger down his cheekbone, brushing it over his lips.
Angel and Carlos were beside themselves. Duo was really setting himself up for heartbreak. Although, Angel noted silently, he doubted Heero had ever been serenaded quite like this. "Oh baby," Duo sighed, tapping Heero's forehead. His eyes crossed for a moment, then righted and fixed on the dancing baka. "Bring it all to me."
Then he pounced, towering over Heero, one foot planted on either side of him. The poor boy looked as if he was torn between running away screaming or laughing. "But I don't need no fancy cars or diamond rings." He finished the chorus quickly and had his mouth open to start the next verse when the microphone was snatched out from under his nose.
"Baby, what's the deal?" The soldiers could only stare as he sang, almost uncomfortably, his voice a good deal lower than they'd ever heard it. "Would I be too forward if I told you how I feel?" Duo could barely stop himself from shaking his head 'no'. The performer in Heero took over and he filled in Duo's vacated spot on the table.
Duo barely heard him as he finished the verse. Instead, he was focused on Heero's eyes. They were so alive, bright and glittering. Duo loved watched Heero sing and dance; he savored every little moment. The American had been severely disturbed watching the concert. Heero seemed almost dead, like he was dragging heavy limbs along in the choreography. Not that every little thrust of his hips or the way he drew his hand palm out across his face didn't still drive him wild, but the emptiness had frightened him.
Now, two little spots of color burned in his cheeks and he looked like he'd been born with a microphone in his hands. The stiffness was gone from his shoulders; even his voice had relaxed, huskier and more melodic. Duo blinked twice as he realized everyone was staring at him; reluctantly, he took the microphone back from Heero and finished the song.
The tent burst into applause. Duo grinned, looking for Heero's familiar aquiline profile, and frowned as he saw a figure retreating into the darkness. Grabbing two beers, untouched, from the table, he followed him out into the open field.
End Part Four
Ariana
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