//....// Flashbacks
Warning: This chapter has a graphic lemon. We do NOT back off this time. It is seriously dark, and we've pulled up the ratings from R to NC-17.
Heero let the warm water of the shower wash across his face and chest. Wufei had been insistent about Heero drinking some tea to help him sleep. At the time Heero had agreed, seeing it as sensible in order to function properly the next day.
Still, whatever he had been given was fighting Heero's trained resistance to drugs, acting with the soothing spray to send Heero's thoughts scattering under the cascade of water.
Still no status report on Trowa. Something was either irregular or he was deeper under cover than they assumed he would have to be. Quatre had vocally challenged the idea of them leaving Trowa within the facilities, instead of a quick search for information and extraction during the chaos.
The longer Une was silent on the matter, the worse things probably were. It was no use bringing it up. Quatre knew all this anyway, and is certainly worried enough already. Besides, Trowa has proved time and again that there was no one better at the job than him, and he had an uncanny knack of riding out whatever happened to him.
Duo though... no it was Relena now. Or was it completely? Heero, for the life of him, couldn't remember Quatre's exact words, but they left hope in him that Duo was still there. That night of the raid was unsettling, if solid, proof on the matter.
He touched his forehead against the cool tiles of the shower wall, the sharp contrast with the temperature surrounding him helped him gather his thoughts a bit.
Okay, so Duo was there, and can possibly hear and see what is going on. Then why hasn't he done anything to let Heero know that something was happening?
/Maybe he can't./ Heero accepted that idea for the moment, until something better came to mind.
Heero turned his thoughts instead to what could be done about the situation instead. He couldn't change what had already happened. Wufei might know of something else, but all he could think of in the cases of ... possession... was an exorcism.
Heero snorted and turned the faucets off. Despite his attire, Duo had often disparaged Christianity in general, if not organized religion on a whole. And Duo, of all the pilots, was the one who the public knew the best.
The chances of finding a church willing to listen seriously to the bizarre story would be hard enough, but to find one willing to do a favor for Duo Maxwell might be downright impossible.
Killing Relena then? But how? Disposing with her body was risky at best, perhaps giving Relena no place to go back to would be incentive for her to stay in Duo forever. And harming Duo himself was out of the question.
He shook his head and grabbed a towel as he dripped his way from the bathroom to his tidy bedroom.
Seeing no point to chasing these lines of thought anymore, he toweled off and slipped under the sheets of his bed. Despite his efforts, his mind refused to shut down immediately into sleep. Every nerve in his back was letting him know that there was cold where there should be warmth, that he had far too many of the covers unstolen to sleep comfortably, that there was a certain familiar scent missing.
Heero sighed, irritated at himself and his own helplessness in all the matters of the evening. It was going to be a long night.
Trowa approached the steel and glass doors of the lab. Two guards stood at attendance in front of the first airlock, imposing looking rifles slung over their shoulders in easy reach. The Latino quickly sized them up as he drew in closer. Professional soldiers, and veterans at that.
"There's no maintenance scheduled today," one said, checking over a clipboard.
Trowa shrugged. "I'm just doing as I was told. The climate control is on the blink and I have to check all the circuit boards." A lie dashed with the truth.
"It doesn't mat..."
"Naw, wait Tomaz, he right, I heard some of the guys talking about it last night. And you know how them technicians bitch about 'a perfectly controlled environment'" Tomaz groaned in obvious sympathy before nodding at Trowa.
"Okay, lemmie see your ID then, I assume if they sent you here, you're a specialist. The suits are on the left inside."
Trowa nodded, waiting patiently as the guards keyed in the password and opened up the first door.
Once inside and under the UV lighting, he stripped down and folded his overalls, putting on instead the sterilized uniforms set aside and then finally, the suit. He noted with relief, as he donned the thick, airtight suit, that is wasn't much different in function than the spacesuits he was used to when piloting.
Any major hesitation would alert the guards before he was ready. He only had a short amount of time anyway before they either really examined the ID or remember what Trowa had learn from the schematics in the mechanic's room: the climate control in the labs are self contained.
The next door opened as soon as he signaled to the surveillance cameras that he was ready. The next room was a small simulated vacuum. Trowa's ears popped even through the relatively stable pressure of the suit.
"Who are you?" A voice crackled in his ear over the hiss of the suit's oxygen feed. Two of the lab technicians, were turned and staring at him across the space of the small, uncluttered room. The suits they wore seemed to be thicker and connected by air tubes to a feed in the wall. They obviously didn't want anyone in Trowa's type of suit staying in the room for long.
"Trenton Raberba. Maintenance." He looked around the room, pretending to scan it for tools. There in the corner was a large vault marked biohazard and refrigeration. That was probably what he needed to get into. Now to get rid of the onlookers.
"You aren't supposed to be here." The other technician's voice said with a degree of haughtiness.
"The sooner I'm done, the sooner I can leave."
The technicians shared a long suffering look, before the first seemed to relent. "Fine. The tools are in the cabinet to your left, the control panel is the box above it."
It took him less than a minute to disconnect the video feed to the room, and 30 seconds beyond that to knock out both technicians.
"Damn, there went the video." Tomaz frowned at the monitor.
"Eh, he's probably putzing with the power. It should be back on in a minute." Greg said, leaning against the wall, at ease now that there were no witnesses.
"I don't know, I'm going to reroute the power to the backup. I've got a bad feeling about this."
"Che' you're paranoid you know that."
"Yup, that's what got me through two wars."
"Yada yada, here we go again."
"Screw you and shut it. I'm trying to work." Greg chuckled as Tomaz started typing commands into the terminal.
The vault was a walk in, and the temperature was somewhere far below freezing. Small vials containing some colorless liquid occupied the slots on the farthest row, each labeled in small precise handwriting. A scientific name of something he didn't recognize. He committed the name and spelling to memory quickly.
Taking one, he decided, was out of the question, without knowing what it was, and the risk of it breaking during transport was unacceptable. Resigned to the fact that only part of the questions Une set before him at the meeting could be answered here, he exited the room and closed the door behind himself.
Now he had to focus everything on getting out alive.
Red lights flashed above and a piercing alarm filled the room.
Too late.
//In conclusion, the theory is still flawed and little more than a whimsy, as that there will never be a constant and steady common enemy against which mankind can unite and struggle against. Dictators are overthrown, organizations are wiped out or scattered, famine can be alleviated and the barriers of space have been breached.
The only thing that we cannot triumph over is mother nature herself and her children. Though most of her fits of anger are localized and brief, with the exception of age and disease. And of late even she is quiet in the face of our wars, her last struggle being on the L2 colonies some years back....//
Une closed the book, staring at the cover contemplatively. Embossed tastefully on the fabric cover were light red letters. "A Modern Dissection of the Conflict Theory" By Dr. Leah Li.
She'd never read such a convoluted collection of theories in her life. The only part of the book that had anything resembling plain Japanese was the last few pages, the conclusion.
But, what was there was not easing her troubled mind. In the context of the thesis alone, Leah Li wasn't opposed to the Conflict theory, merely calling it unrealistic on a long-term basis.
"There were no weapons." Une frowned deeply. "They aren't looking for a human dictator, or even to become this enemy that Karla talks of so often. Then what?"
A welcome beep from her computer drew her from her line of thought. It was giving her a headache anyway. "Hi Sally, got anything new for me yet?"
"Not Sally. Une, we've got trouble." Trowa's voice, broken with static came over the line. In the distant background she could hear voices and gunshots.
Une sat up suddenly at fierce attention, pencils and papers scattered from her sudden movement but lay unheeded on the floor.
Une's voice was all steel again. "Report."
"I'm trapped in the lab. It's fully locked down and I have little to no firepower left. What I have, I need to keep the guards at bay long enough to finish this transmission."
"Will you be able to extract yourself?" she asked, already knowing the answer before the line crackled to life again.
"Unlikely." Une closed her eyes. "The only reason I can do this now is that they are reluctant to return fire in here."
"Any good news?" Another loud gunshot rang out over the connection, followed quickly by a muffled cry of pain. With mild relief, she noted that the voice wasn't Trowa's.
"Their plans are to release something called s. meningitidis, by the setup, I assume it's either a toxin or disease. Most likely the latter."
"I'll ask Sally about it."
"I'll try and report in an hour if I break free..."
"Good luck Trowa." Une's voice carried little hope. Trowa's assessment of combat situations are often as accurate as his partner's.
"Ryoukai."
Une heard the line go dead and knew it wouldn't be reestablished soon. She stared at the small speakers built into her desk with a numb feeling. Trowa wouldn't say anything, and it would be simple to disavow Preventer knowledge...
Quatre's wrath would leave no one unscathed though. In fact the entire team would go with or without her orders as soon as she gave them the status report. Withholding information from them was not only impossible but likely suicidal.
There was no avoiding a conflict. Une resigned herself. She opened a window on her computer, a direct line to Sally Po. Saving the message on her college's computer as of the utmost urgency, <<Sally, what have you got on s. meningitidis? Method of transmission, symptoms, spreading rate, how to control an outbreak, whatever. We misjudged. The Devolutionists are going biological.>>
Another line, another connection. <<Noin, report to my office tonight. Tell Zechs he is to report early tomorrow for emergency action.>>
Her hands hesitated over the keyboard for just a moment before tapping into the last. <<Situation has escalated. All four of you are to report tomorrow morning, before dawn, stagger your times arriving. I will explain then.>>
She closed the direct connections but kept her line open. Wearily, she got up and eyed the setting sun. "How did this go so wrong so fast?"
Relena shifted through her thoughts, tucked deep in the corner of Quatre's library. To the two men set to guard her by Quatre, Duo was just staring out into space. They had long since gotten bored of watching her do nothing and were only paying her half a bit of mind.
Quatre, she realized, was going to be a tough one. He didn't entirely trust Relena's promises of good behavior and seemed to know before she did that she had no real intentions of leaving.
As for her other worry, Duo, she'd not felt much more of him. The Jester's distinctive presence had brushed by her more than once when she was shifting through Duo's memories about Heero. He'd yet to actually say anything to her; she got the impression he was simply keeping an eye on her than anything else, and it was like the Child didn't exist for all she felt of him.
Still without their presence, she had quite a bit more room to maneuver, so many more pathways of interest had opened up before her, tempting her to relive what she never had, but should have.
//A petty argument rapidly dissolved into a playful wresting match with halfhearted punches and holds. As usual, they did more damage to the room than to each other. Wedged between a battered coffee table and an overstuffed couch, the two men stared at each other.
Heero had Duo easily pinned, holding the struggling boy's arms above his head with casual ease and a smug smirk. Heero tensed as Duo got a wicked look in his eyes and lunged up beneath him.
Instead of trying to throw the Japanese man off his shoulders, Duo did the unexpected, and laid a sloppy kiss full on the lips. He took full advantage of Heero's shock to free himself and make a break for the door. It took him a few hallways of running to realize that Heero for some reason wasn't following.
Peeking back into the room, Heero was sitting stock still where Duo had thrown him. Heero looked up and met Duo's eyes, his own cobalt orbs troubled.
"That didn't just happen." Heero glared and Duo's hopes sank. "Right?"
"Yeah," Duo shrugged, plastering back on his grin. "Right."//
Duo couldn't see it at the time, but that panic was the beginning of something else in Heero, or more accurately the birth of someone who was always meant to be there. It would be months more before either got the courage to broach that incredibly awkward subject again, but the fact remains that his first kiss was stolen by Duo.
//Another memory of a quiet time, both were enjoying the summer sun in the middle of a vineyard Quatre insisted that they tour with him. One of the Winner family's satellite companies.
It hadn't been particularly hard to "accidentally" get separated from the group. Heero had tucked himself under the shade of a large maple tree, an arm wrapped loosely, but protectively around the baka leaning back against his chest.
Duo had his eyes closed, smiling faintly as Heero fed him grapes from a bunch he'd plucked from one of the nearby vines. Too intent on the comfortable feeling of being wrapped up by his koi, he never noticed the smaller size of a grape until the sour taste exploded across his tastebuds.
"EYYYYYYAAAAAAAACK!" Duo jumped up, spitting out the bitter fruit. Heero chuckled, drawing the braided one's wrath. "Of course you know, this means war."
"Hn. You can try."
"Try?" Duo smirked and kicked up the nozzle of a hose. Before Heero could react, he had it turned on full and trained on the now furiously spluttering boy. "I've already won."
"OMAE O KOROSU!"
"Catch me first!"//
Another stolen moment, one of hundreds, no thousands more like it, kept hidden from her so long. Some sweet, some bitter, some passionate. Everything Heero liked and disliked, all the trials and the many errors.
They should have been hers.
She no longer thought of herself as the invader. She was merely recovering stolen property.
"I'm telling you, Quatre-sama called Master Duo a her. Maybe he IS a her." A pitched voice called out, breaking Relena out of her revere.
"Then why didn't he..."
"She."
"SHE correct us?"
"Maybe she was too polite?"
"Duo? Polite?" Relena blinked and bit back a giggle. They were arguing over her gender? Ridiculous... but it was still an opening. She ducked behind a bookcase and crept low towards the library door.
"Okay. Good point."
"Besides... she doesn't have any.... you know..."
"I know?"
"You know <whisper>"
"Oh. Those. I'm sure she's got em. It's all those shirts she wears. And, you know. She's just a flower before her bloom." Relena repressed her urge to snort. She was only a few feet away now. She'd be gone before they ever realized it.
"Before her bloom my arse. She's been dating Master Heero forever."
A bawdy laugh. "Then we should be getting them baby presents soon, by the sound of things."
The voices faded out as she pushed the well oiled door slowly shut behind her. Straightening with a predatory smile, she wandered off the in direction of Heero's room. She had a lot of time that she needed to make up for.
Inside his own room, Heero drifted in and out of sleep, whatever herbal concoction that Wufei had put into his tea taking slow effect on his senses. He could no longer tell what was dream and what was reality, and hardly cared much.
/This is why I hate drugs,/ a solitary, clear thought managed to burble to the surface.
It was just on the edge of sleep that a surreal dream began creeping in on his senses.
In it, Duo was leaning over him, slowly pressing his lips against Heero's, both demanding and asking for more. Duo's hands were caressing him, touching the areas of his body that Duo had learned to play so well, a virtuoso at knowing what Heero liked, butterfly light.
Heero tried to reach up, to take Duo into his embrace, take control and everything Duo was offering with his teasing mouth and hands, but his arms wouldn't respond, not connecting with the haze of his mind. All he could do was lay back, encouraging his koi with muffled sounds of assent as desire overwhelmed what little capability he had for rational thought.
Somewhere deep in the farther parts of Duo's mind, where he kept such strange memories of where the best rodents were on L2 and various uses for pickles in a pinch, the Jester sat, floating through the nonsense. Behind him, a cloak of all colors billowed out dramatically as if pitched around by a wind that didn't exist.
"There the grown serpent lies; the worm that's fled
Hath nature that in time will venom breed,
No teeth for the present."
The Jester scoffed, mulling over his own words, as he watched the goings on outside. "No teeth for then, but now a mawful and dripping of some foul toxin. What a transformation this has wrought. This has gone past too far."
He fell silent again, within his own thoughts as watched the goings on without comment, but flickered as he felt something within the cloak stir. It was a little trick for him to be in two places at once.
"So, softly shaking off those sweet shreds of slumber?" he asked.
"Wut's wrong?" The Child asked as he finally roused himself. Looking around, he saw the folds of the Jester's colorful and voluminous cloak surrounding him, like some strange, surreal room. The Jester himself was with him in there, as well as around him.
"Wrong? Why would you worry that?"
"Cuz' ya only do tha illiterate-tion stuff when ya upset bout sometin."
"Alliteration." The Jester corrected, humor coloring his tone.
"Wute'er. Dun change tha subject."
"Nay gentle heart, it is a subject that begs for change. The pacifist has felt how the warriors' shoe fit and is not well for the feeling."
A frown flashed across his grubby, if cherubic face. "'S tha bad huh?"
The Jester inclined his head in agreement. The harlequin's posture was at ease, but the Child wasn't fooled. He could feel the pain from the taller one.
"Ya shouldna protect me no more. Yas faden too fast like tha. Wute'er it is, I kin take it."
"Brave and fierce," the Jester said fondly. "But would you deny me my purpose?"
"Hn. I's not sayen tha."
"Of course. Fear not! Fear not! I am merely choosing between two hurts, and this pains me far less than what could be." The Jester's grin widened. "Besides, I fear, had you slipped my nimble fingers, you'd find Shini-chan beyond this clutter of eccentricity wishing to do the same duty, and he is not so reasonable as I."
"Fine. Fine." The Child crossed his arms and pouted. "How 's Shini anyway?"
"He is drained to the marrow from both our battle and our unnatural slumber. He's been taking to reading his book again to calm himself. I'm afraid we have shot ourselves in the foot only to spite our arm."
The Child blinked then giggled. "Ya knows, e'en for ya, tha' last bit made notta drop o sense."
The Jester laughed. "Perhaps, perhaps, my mind is scattered more than it should be and a-wandering through this dark night."
A comfortable silence fell between the two as for a while the Jester's attention seemed to have shifted outward. The Child stared down at his feet above the shifting colors of the Jester's fey garment. "'S my fault, i'nt it?" he asked quietly.
"Pardon?" The Jester tilted his head, like a confused and distracted cat.
"Tha' we're not all togetha more," the Child elaborated.
The Jester scoffed, shifting uncomfortably. "We've not seen that sort of thing since the plague and you cannot be blamed for that."
"I's not talken 'bout that, baka. I mean we should be closer than are now. 'S my fault. I let her get ta me tha first day, an' now it too late."
"It's never too late. Sleep for now little one. Save your strength, for our own battle comes soon."
"'S really bad 'sn't it?" he persisted. "Fer YA of all of us ta want ta fight."
"All has changed and changed utterly, a terrible tragedy is borne."
"'S not the right words."
"I like my version better." The Jester sniffed, lifting his chin and with irreverence creeping back into his voice.
The Child snorted and put his small fists on his hips. "Yer messed up, ya knowen tha'?"
The second gave a teasing edge to his grin. "I'm not half so bad as our other."
"Shini? Naw he's almos' sane sometimes."
"Have you ever looked at the book he reads?" Milky white eyes met empty sockets. Even without sight, the Jester managed to convey irony and challenge.
"Yeah. 'S a Bible right?"
The Jester shook his head, "No, have you read what lays upon those pages."
"Un-uh," The Child said, shrugging. "Wut's it say then?"
"Thou Shalt Not Kill."
"Jes tha'? On all them pages?" The harlequin nodded. The Child considered for a long moment. "Yer right, he more mess'd up th'n ya are."
The Jester angled a finger reprovingly. "Sleep."
The fool sighed with relief as the Child finally gave up he's stubbornness and gave in, curling back up in the protective cocoon the Jester wove. He was glad the little one couldn't see; the Jester understood what was going on, that Heero didn't know, but the heart would be liable to shatter.
Turning away from what was going on outside their shield, he set about convincing himself that he'd be okay as well.
Some still coherent part of Heero's mind was starting to notice a difference in this strange dream. This dream Duo was not so much teasing and playful, but surely made up for that lack in sheer, determined intensity.
Duo played with Heero's ear, lightly flicking in and around it with his tongue, then started licking, inching his tongue down Heero's neck and started to nibble the valley at his collar bone.
Duo's hands strayed lower, touching, dancing lightly around his arousal. A small part of Heero's mind rebelled, saying that this was a bit too real, the sensations to sharp to be a simple wet dream, but was suffocated under the warm haze the hand encircling him was creating in his mind.
A small gasp escaped his lips and his hips thrust upwards slightly into Duo's hands, as all thought left him entirely. Duo gave him a small secret smile, and his lips left Heero's neck, traveling lower to meet his hands and the center of Heero's fire.
Duo kissed the tip of Heero's erection. His tongue darted out, tasting him, almost tentatively. That quick, hot touch gave Heero the sudden strength to arch nearly completely off the bed. Duo smiled a little wider. He bobbed again, tracing Heero's length with a slow, curious stroke, before suddenly taking him entirely within his mouth. Heero shuddered with pleasure.
Heero bucked slightly, needing anything, something more from that wonderful heat. Duo seemed unprepared for the reaction and drew back suddenly. With a scolding sound like "ah ah ah", he reached down, and held Heero's hips to the mattress. He was too weak at the moment to fight it, completely at Duo's mercies.
Duo started working his mouth up and down Heero's shaft, his tongue dancing over it, flicking around the sides, sending waves of pleasure through his lover.
He took Heero deeper into his mouth, until he had all of him engulfed.
The fire in Heero grew with greater intensity, Heero moaned in pleasure and wrapped his hands in Duo's hair.
Heero groaned involuntarily, white flashing behind his eyes. He struggled against himself, feeling the limits of his endurance coming up fast on him, wanting more from Duo, not wanting it to end so soon.
Heero's hands dropped from Duo's hair to clench the sheets below him with white knuckles, trying to control his own reaction, but he was too far for even thought.
Suddenly, the sharp bite of cool air invaded his senses along his erection, snapping him into awareness. Duo had sat back and was regarding him with a smile that was all at once dark, terrible, and triumphant.
A sinking feeling clenched his stomach. Before his scattered thoughts could form a protest, "Duo" had leaned forward giving that final touch that sent him helplessly over the edge, spilling his seed all over himself.
"NOW you're forgiven." Relena whispered, laying down beside the recovering Heero. She hadn't so much as rumpled Duo's shirt during the encounter.
Trembling with a mix of exhaustion and rage, the death glare had never before gotten so focused as it did then, not even during the worst of the war. Gathering his strength and his wits, he wedged a foot between himself and the other occupant.
With a disdainful kick, he shoved "Duo" off the bed violently, unsatisfied by the loud thump of the body hitting the ground.
"Now do you understand, Heero?" Relena rose to her feet, smiling as she straightened Duo's clothes. Her eyes carried that same dark, dead look since the that conversation earlier. "Even while you are his, you're mine. In love or in hate."
"Get. Out. Now." He bit off each word, trying not to lash out, gripping the sheets in an effort to restrain himself. Trying not to prove her right. Relena left without another word, just a wave over her shoulder.
Heero ignored the drug in his bloodstream as it was burned away by furious adrenaline. He fed all of his disgust at himself and shock into that, burning it into something more useful to him at the moment, sheer anger.
Distantly, he heard Duo's light tenor conversing with two deeper voices outside. Quatre's followers, Heero's mind supplied. He hardly paid it any mind as he cleaned himself up and fumbled around in the dim light of the room for his pants.
"Master Heero? Are you all right?" One called through the door. Heero gave a dry chuckle as he picked up his gun.
"Fine. I'll be just..." Heero growled. He rammed the clip into the gun, cocked the slide, ejecting the empty shell and reloaded the firing chamber in one swift movement. "...Fine."
Outside, Relena and the Maguanacs' suddenly faltered as Heero's door was slammed open again. In the doorframe was Heero. His perfect soldier's mask had completely broken and an undeniable look of cold fury was his face's new adornment. His eyes were narrowed to slits, making the eyes beneath look like pools of glittering black.
The fist that held his handgun was clenching it with such an intensity that the Maguanacs fancied they could hear the metal creak in protest.
With a quick and almost negligent thrust of his free hand, muscles that could bend steel pushed the three roughly out of his way. For a silent, stunned moment, all they could do was stare at Japanese man's bare back as he disappeared back down the hall.
"Who put the potato in HIS tailpipe?" Abdul asked, scratching his head. Both Relena an Auda gave him an incredulous look.
"What?" Abdul exclaimed.
"Heero!" Relena broke free of their hold and chased after the soldier. "Where do you think you are going?"
Heero ignored her and stopped suddenly outside of the door of Relena's sickroom, ignoring the presence of the huge Arabian inside.
"To finish what I started in April, 195." He raised his gun and trained it on the body inside. "Relena," he pulled the hammer back and took aim. "Omae o korosu."
TBC
Notes: The Jester's quote is from Macbeth, Act III, Scene IV, the one he mangles later is from Yeats, Easter 1916.
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