It's December 195AC, episodes 44-49... The story picks up where it left off at the end of "Have You Ever", and the G-Boys must face a whole new horde of problems, while dealing with the rift between Heero, Duo and Wufei threatening to tear them apart.
This is the second story of the 'Dance of the Heart' story arc and the sequel to 'Have You Ever...'
It was dark inside the lounge, despite the bright Florida sunshine that attempted to pour through the curtained windows. The lingering scent of incense and cigarette smoke hung in the air, leftovers from the night before. The couches and chairs that populated the lounge had seen better days, but they were comfortable and well appreciated by the teenagers and young adults who frequented this place. In one corner, there was a pool table, a low light hanging overhead. Two teenagers, sixteen or seventeen, were playing a game, the balls cracking together loudly in the otherwise quiet lounge. Music drifted through the room, too soft to really make out the words, but the beat was steady and sensuous, seductive almost, hypnotic. Six sleek vid-screens lined one wall, portals to the outside world for those who came here to escape it.
But the most intoxicating appeal of the room drifted up from behind the counter, from the hot cups of flavored coffees that warmed chilled hands.
"Hi, welcome to Navigators. Can I get you something to drink? Maybe a snack?" a young woman asked, smiling at him in an inviting way. She was squatted down next to him as he sat on a couch. He looked at her for a moment and then looked away, eyes returning to the front door. "Maybe one of our daily specials?" she tried.
"What do you have?" he asked finally, his voice low and throaty for one so young she thought.
"Today's a French Cappuccino, Coffee--"
"That's fine."
She blinked, and then smiled again. "A French Cappuccino? Sure thing. Small or large?"
He looked at her again, and then looked away. "Surprise me," he replied.
She studied him a minute longer before shaking her head and getting up to get his drink. "Sure, sure," she mumbled from behind the counter.
He didn't notice. He handed her a couple of crumpled up bills though when she returned, thanking her off-handedly. Then he settled back into the couch cushions with his cappuccino to wait.
He wasn't really sure why he was here. Really, it was stupid and foolhardy. A risk he had no business taking. But he was here anyway. In this little coffee lounge in some little town in the middle of Florida, waiting.
Steam rose up from his cup and in its foggy dance, he thought he saw a familiar body, writhing.
He frowned, swallowing.
It had been over a week since he'd walked away from the last safe house---one of Quatre's many homes. Over a week since he'd walked into the room that had been labeled 'his'... only to find two other people there... laying on his bed... wrapped together in a very compromising position... His lover... and his friend.
No. That wasn't right. He didn't have a lover. And friends were only allies for a period of time. He had neither now. Once again, working on his own. He knew they were looking for him. Or, at least two of them were. He found their searches, and led them on a merry chase.
He didn't want to be found.
And, until this day, no one had a clue where to find him.
Until this day... this day... yeah, he was here, waiting in this little coffee lounge... Waiting to meet a woman who, eight days ago had been his captor.
Yeah. He was nuts.
The door to the lounge opened then, and a petite young woman entered, unwrapping the cream scarf from her neck and face. Dark eyes scanned the room quickly before spotting him. She smiled, and then began making her way over to him at the back of the lounge.
"You're looking good," she greeted lightly, her dark eyes roaming over him from head to toe. "Very good," she added appreciatively.
He nodded, but didn't reply, instead, choosing to take a sip from the sweet tasting stuff in his cup.
"Viv, I'll take a Café Latte over here," she called to the waitress behind the counter before slipping down next to him on the couch.
"Sure thing, Nita!"
"So, how's the shoulder?" Nita asked, eyeing the long sleeved shirt.
He shifted, the tight bandages hidden by the heavy cotton shirt shifting and pulling against the gunshot wound. "Fine," he answered.
The waitress arrived with Nita's coffee and then left, leaving them in a tense moment of silence. "I appreciate you agreeing to see me like this."
"What makes you think it's not a trap?" he asked tensely.
She smiled. "I could ask the same thing of you, but I think we'll both agree it's not."
He was quiet, contemplating his cappuccino. "You said you needed my help," he said finally.
"Yes." She studied him, the tight jeans that encased muscular legs, the navy blue long-sleeved shirt that fit him to a tee, the dark, messy hair that looked almost styled that way on purpose. She could easily see why her sisters were so interested in him. He was, after, a fine specimen of the male species--and he didn't look all that young, either.
He looked at her, Prussian eyes telling her to continue.
"I have a file I'm interested in gaining access to..." she began...
End of Part 1: Navigators
Andrea Readwolf
Please send comments to: andrea_readwolf@hotmail.com