14-Feb-2006
Title: Launch 10/?
Author: TB
Archive: GWA and
http://www.geocities.com/brother_maxwell/TB_home_page.html
Category: yaoi
Pairing: 3x4, 2
Disclaimer: The plots and characters of Gundam Wing are used without
permission, but I earn even less than the voice actors did.
Notes: Some exploration of the Space Heart idea in the next few parts.
If
you don't like sci-fi, why are you watching Gundam Wing? Oh, the
pretty boys? Say no more.
Spoilers: The story begins three years after Endless Waltz and bears
copious reference to it and the series.
Summary: Part 10: Wufei and Trowa are such good actors that they
really appear to be SOBs; Quatre teaches Duo to swim.
Wufei shifted his duffle to his right hand, and flashed his badge at the two security guards stationed by the xray. Trowa snorted his disapproval as the senior guard, a tall black man, hurried to open an inoperative lane for them, letting them through without so much as frisking them.
'Be grateful,' Wufei muttered to him, as they left the check gate and turned left down the broad avenue of shops and harried passengers. He shouldered his duffle, and Trowa did the same with his own, careful to muffle any suspicious clanking with his body.
'For their own sake, they shouldn't make it quite so easy,' Trowa retorted, not at all mollified. 'We could have stolen the Ids.'
'I'm not inclined to be worried about the state of airport security, Barton! Or do you want to be discovered before we even make it to the gate?' Trowa was aware of the other man's scrutiny, but inclined himself to be grumpy about it. He twitched his head forward so that his hair fell further into his face; at the very least, it blocked his own view of Wufei, and that was good enough.
He didn't get away with it for long. They had reached D Section, where their jet was waiting for them. Wufei took care of the business of handing their tickets to the young lady at the counter, who assured them their luggage was already being loaded and promised a boarding call in the next few minutes. They stepped away from the counter to the window, framed by ridiculous silk palm trees in large cement potters. Trowa eyed the effect with distaste, and propped his shoulder against the glass. Wufei did not lean. He halted facing Trowa.
'What?' he demanded.
Trowa affected not to notice his partner's impatience. He glanced over his shoulder to what was apparently their jet, and watched the cargo bay being shut and a metal staircase roll out toward the hatch. 'What, what?'
Wufei's face, never far from it anyway, slipped into a scowl. 'You've been pissed off all morning.'
'I'm not pissed,' Trowa muttered, shoving one hand deep in the pocket of his black peacoat and touching his Colt .38 in its holster through the fabric lining. It brought him only a little reassurance.
'Then you have a poor way of expressing happiness,' Wufei said. He slid his hands into his own pockets, not a gesture the Asian man made frequently. It was a pose of deliberate casualness, probably an imitation of Maxwell. Duo had more attitude though, a shit-eating grin to balance the sly slump, Trowa thought. And scowled himself for thinking about Duo, and then thinking about what thinking about Duo led to.
'In case you haven't noticed,' Wufei continued, pushing it just a little too far, 'everything is going exactly as we planned. Quatre's off the ship and the IEO is scheduled to be our sitting target in the middle of the Atlantic. White Fang is with us. Half of Dekim Barton's personal army. Mariemaia Khushrenada is going to walk out of her prison cell into a coup d'etat.'
'Roll,' Trowa corrected, just to be sleazy. 'I know exactly how far we've come. I did all the dirty work, remember? The things you thought were beneath you?' He cocked his head at the flush that stained Wufei's caramel-coloured cheeks. 'Just be glad I don't mind getting dirty for the cause,' he added sarcastically.
'What are you going on about?'
So he was pissed off. There wasn't, he knew, absolutely anything he could do about it. And it didn't really make him feel better to mock Wufei, but mocking Wufei was the only outlet he was going to get. Probably for the rest of his life, short as it was likely to be.
They were interrupted by the girl at the counter, who announced over the speakers that Flight 203 was ready to board. They left their station at the window for the stairwell to the ground floor, trailed by a man in an expensive suit yammering into one of those over-ear pieces that Quatre always used, and an old woman carrying her dog under her arm. From the stairwell, they exited onto the runway. Damp gusts of wind buffeted them heavily there, and Trowa noticed that a canopy had been added to their ladder up to the jet. Wufei climbed first, ignoring the helping hand of one of the uniformed stewards, and Trowa was a step behind him, his hand still in his pocket to keep his jacket from blowing open in the wind. They ducked under the hatch, and another steward escorted them to their seats.
It was, Trowa noticed, a very nice jet. The seats wouldn't have been out of place in a private entertainment center, being plush leather and reclining. There were brass lampstands with creamy glass shades instead of overheads, and the loudspeaker was broadcasting Vivaldi. He dropped his duffle onto the cushions of his seat, then carefully slid it beneath. Wufei did the same across the narrow aisle, and dropped into his seat with a sigh.
While the businessman- still talking loudly to the air- and the woman cum dog were settling in closer to the cockpit, Wufei leaned toward him, and said, 'Quatre was spotted in London two days ago, with one of his sisters. And Duo. He's back in Spain now, at that hotel where they held the IEO launch.' He paused, a dramatic moment wasted on Trowa, who already knew the ending. 'With Duo,' the Preventer added.
'I suppose you saw this with your psychic powers,' Trowa retorted sourly, sitting and reaching for his safety belt.
'I've had them tailed.' Wufei did not strap in, though he adjusted the flow of air over his seat and lowered his light. 'I usually watch Quatre. And I used to watch you.'
What Wufei didn't know, Trowa was sure, was that the spying games had been a mutual past-time. But he didn't give up information without getting something back, and that was a secret he'd been keeping comfortably since Wufei had surprised him by sneaking off to join Barton's army the first time.
When he didn't reply, Wufei seemed to take his own answers from the silence. 'I never thought you were very close, for lovers,' he said. 'And it was your idea to steal the pills.'
'Lovers have love,' Trowa said flatly, closing his eyes to announce his intention to nap during the flight. 'We have sex. And not very damn frequently.'
Quatre was in Spain, recovering from a surgery he shouldn't have had to have.
With Duo.
'You are wise to distance yourself now,' Wufei said, missing the point entirely with the firm tone of the self-righteous. It grated on every nerve Trowa was bent on ignoring. Ahead of them, the hatch was closed and locked, and the stewards made themselves scarce by drawing a curtain shut between the cockpit and passenger bay. 'He will not be an ally in the war to come,' Wufei continued softly, as the engines began to purr. Trowa tilted his head just enough to look at Wufei from slitted eyes. 'Of course I wish he was,' the other man told him. 'Quatre is one of the most worthy and brave men I know. But he's too deeply invested in this... ' Distaste coloured Wufei's face this time, and...
And, Trowa realised suddenly, self-loathing.
'Peace,' Trowa supplied eventually, closing his eyes again and settling deep into his seat. 'The word you're looking for is peace.'
'This,' Duo said, 'has got to be the grossest thing I have ever seen.' He gingerly handed the sea cucumber to Quatre, snatching his fingers away when it suddenly began to spurt white thread-like liquid from an orifice. 'Jesus!' he exclaimed, hiding his nose in his inside elbow. 'You got to be kidding me!'
Quatre laughed, keeping a gentle hold on the creature as it flopped sluggishly. 'A little gross,' he acknowledged. 'But I think it's kind of cool. And they're really useful. Rachel- she's a graduate student on the IEO- she's looking into the use of sea cucumbers in tissue regrowth. Also, they make a really great stew.'
Duo gagged exaggeratedly. 'You ate one of these things?'
Quatre grinned at him, and let the cucumber slide back into the briny touch-tank. It settled to the bottom looking positively disgruntled, and began to burrow back under the sand. 'I could have the lab send a few over for dinner tonight,' he suggested innocently. 'They're considered a delicacy.'
'Yeah- like quail eggs and caviar and snails and pate and goose liver. Is that the rule? If it's gross and gooey, it's a delicacy?' They both sniggered at that one, as they rinsed their hands at a nearby sink. 'Rich people,' Duo said with pretended disdain. 'You're all weird.'
'Why do you think we keep ourselves so segregated? We're just trying to protect the general population.'
'Oh, that's it.'
'Turn left,' Quatre said suddenly. 'I want to see if the dolphins are still here.'
'Where else would they be?' Duo asked, though he obediently pushed on the door they were passing, courteously holding it while Quatre passed through.
'The dolphins are free to come and go,' Quatre explained. 'The ESOAA passed legislation a few years ago regulating retention of animals past a certain intelligence quotient. No more whales, sharks, or dolphins in aquariums or theme parks, except for rehabilitation and release.' They continued on their way through the interconnected maze that was the Dorada Aquarium. It was still early in the tourist season, which meant that the public rooms were nearly empty. Some of the staff, however, remembered Quatre from the two weeks he'd spent in Dorada not long ago. Conversations were short, as Duo had only slightly more Spanish than Quatre, who had none. When they left the Bays and Beaches section, they headed toward the Aquatic Environments situated out in the sun, in tanks or in the ocean itself. The huge man-made inlet that formed Dorada's premier attraction was, today, cooled by a breeze but unrepentantly sunny. Duo shed his outer shirt immediately, tying it about his waist as they crossed the boardwalk toward the swim tanks. When Quatre heard a high-pitched whistle, he broke into a jog, already grinning his excitement.
Duo caught up with him a moment later, just as Quatre clattered to the bottom of a staircase and hit the large plate-glass wall of the tank's lower level viewports. The L2 native made his own whistle as a gleaming silver body arced through the green water, performing tight, playful twirls as it swam toward them. Quatre pressed a hand to the glass, watching in delight as the dolphin flipped in a sudden barrel roll, then sped back up to the surface and out of their eyesight.
'Wow,' Duo said softly, clearly impressed. 'That was beautiful.'
'That was Camus,' Quatre said. 'I think. He had a tussle with a shark and lost part of his dorsal fin. He's the playful one.' He squinted through the water, hoping to see a second body. 'He and Albert are usually together,' he continued. 'Sort of like you and me,' he added.
Duo grinned at him, tentatively lifting his palm to the glass and looking into the tank. 'They named their dolphins Albert and Camus?'
He had to laugh. 'I know,' he muttered. 'I said the same thing.' He grabbed Duo's arm a second later, as two dolphins emerged from the murky water and bobbed toward the window where they stood. 'That's him!' he told Duo. 'I learned to swim with Albert. I wonder if he remembers me?'
'I'd say so,' Duo answered, as two curious spouts butted against the glass not far from Quatre's hand.
Sun happy friend
Quatre blinked, and glanced away from Albert's wide grey eye to Duo. 'Did you say something?'
'I said, I'd say he remembers you.'
'No, after that.' Duo shrugged, and shook his head.
Camus had lost interest by the time Quatre turned back. Albert nodded his large head up and down, turning a lazy circle and then floating upside down. Quatre smiled, leaning his forehead on the glass to watch. 'It's good to see you again,' he whispered to the grinning beast.
small-friend
He looked automatically at Duo, but this time didn't need to be told that Duo hadn't opened his mouth- because Duo was several yards up the wooden boardwalk where it wound upward about the edge of the tank. Quatre met the single eye that was facing him. 'Albert,' he murmured.
There was no answer. The dolphin winked at him, and swam away. Quatre had to work hard to shake off the impression that he'd just been spoken to by a creature that didn't use speech. Probably, he thought, it was his own emotion getting the better of him. Or more likely, the lingering effects of the pill he'd taken on the plane to help him sleep through the night.
Duo rejoined him a few moments later. 'What's next?' he asked Quatre cheerfully.
He shrugged off the lingering questions. 'Mariah told me they're doing a coral run here tomorrow. Do you want to go?'
'Coral?' Duo repeated. 'As in- under-water coral?'
'That's- usually where it's found, yes.'
Duo lifted his fringe out of his eyes and held it there with a fist, a nervous gesture he'd developed somewhere in the years they'd been friends. He dropped it a moment later, and the loose hairs settled bizarrely over his pale forehead.
'I don't know how to swim,' Duo said, sounding embarrassed.
Quatre only laughed. 'Neither did I until a month ago. I can show you how. It's easier than learning to ski was, that's for damn sure.'
Less than an hour later Quatre had retrieved his wetsuit from their hotel suite and found a spare for Duo, and he marched them down to the outdoor pool. It was only eleven, and they had several hours before the worst of the afternoon heat would chase them back inside. He sent Duo off to change in the bath house, and claimed them a table with a wide umbrella of Spanish mustard yellow and a stack of fluffy, fresh-smelling towels. He sat on the edge of the shallow end to wait for Duo, who was taking a rather long time to strip and put on a bathing suit.
Finally he slipped over the side of the pool, letting himself drop into the waist-deep water. 'Come on,' he called out. 'Duo, hurry up.'
Duo obediently emerged from the changing house, tugging at the short thighs of his wetsuit. 'I look like a moron,' he called back.
'You look just like me,' Quatre corrected, pretending to be offended. He grinned as Duo came cautiously closer to the pool. 'The water is twenty-five degrees,' he said. 'It's warm enough you won't freeze.'
Duo shuffled the last few steps, his borrowed rubber shoes scuffing on the concrete. He bent and dipped a hand into the water. Quatre let him do it, pushing off from the wall and letting himself float, paddling lightly with his arms. As he'd thought, Duo grew braver once he determined the water wasn't going to swallow him. He deliberately didn't watch as Duo worked himself around to sitting with his legs over the edge. When movement ceased, however, Quatre swam back, and stood up facing Duo.
'Take my hands,' he instructed, holding them out. 'We're not going to go any deeper than this.' For a while.
Duo wore a look of mistrust that Quatre knew wasn't really directed toward himself. But Duo's hands left their tight grip of the tiles and grasped Quatre's. Quatre tugged gently, and Duo, looking like he was throwing himself into a nuclear reactor, let his butt slide to the edge and over. He gasped slightly when he landed waist-deep.
'I'll show you how to float first,' Quatre told him. 'It's really easy. Trust me?'
'I hate when you put it that way,' Duo groused. 'You make it all- personal, and everything.'
Quatre grinned at him. 'First, let's get you wet. Crouch down.'
'I don't- I don't want to put my head under.'
'You won't,' Quatre promised. 'Crouch down. Come on.' He did it himself, keeping his hold on Duo's hands as he sank into water up to his neck. Duo's eyes were wild when the water brushed his chin, but Quatre held them still, keeping them balanced, until Duo acclimated.
'Okay,' he said. 'Now I'm going to stand up again and I want to have you lie on your back. I'll keep my hands under you at first, until you're ready to go solo. All right?'
'Yeah.' Duo looked a little bereft when Quatre released his hands, but he moved when Quatre guided him by the shoulders into stretching out. His body, of course, floated, bobbing a little. Quatre supported him under the small of the back or the head, showing him how to spread his arms a little, giving him time to relax. When Duo's eyes finally fluttered closed and stayed that way, Quatre grinned his triumph. He took his time moving his hand away from its position supporting Duo's shoulder, and then he stepped back.
'Look,' he murmured.
Duo opened his eyes, saw he was alone, and promptly sank. Quatre managed to grab him before his head went under, but Duo was sputtering and splashing gracelessly as Quatre hauled him back up to standing. Quatre laughed, and tried not to when Duo threw a look of wretched betrayal at him. 'You were doing great,' he enthused. 'You floated on your own for almost a minute. You're a natural.'
Duo lifted his sopping braid, and dropped it with an audible slop against his back. His mouth moved, screwed to the left, then said, 'Really?'
Quatre grinned again. 'Really. Think you're up to a dog-paddle?'
'You're bringing dogs into the pool?'
They spent the morning in the water, interrupted only once by a helpful lifeguard who invited them to join him for a drink break. Duo quit after making his way up to full submersion, claiming it was starting to really freak him out. He set himself at their table beside the pool, protected by the large umbrella, and was soon absorbed in paperwork. Quatre left him to it, understanding he was being give a second break of sorts, and occupied himself with laps across the pool. When his chest began to ache- disgustingly soon- he floated for a while, eyes closed to the warmth of the Spanish sun, body cool in the water.
Duo called him out of the pool at one, and they ate a light lunch. Quatre found himself shaky by the time they paid their bill, and Duo suggested they follow local culture and take a mid-day siesta. Quatre was asleep almost before he hit his pillow. Their first real day in Dorada, and he was done in by nothing more strenuous than walking to the Aquarium and swimming a bit. He woke long enough to mumble a thank-you when Duo covered him with a light quilt.
He was in Sandrock. It was dark through the open viewports, the unrelieved black of Deep Space. He could feel the cold pressure of vacuum pressing on his Gundam, imagined it leaking through unsealed metal sheets and past loosened screws, slowly stealing his air. His father had died like that, suffocating while his air was sucked out through the hull breach. He'd stood by uselessly while his father gulped his last desperate lungsful. Not being able to watch Kadar Winner suffer didn't stop him from imagining it. He knew what it looked like. He'd killed people that way.
He could hear a breeze around him, from those little wisps of air drawn inevitably toward the dangerous leaks. He could smell the vacuum around him like methane, a poisonous tang slipping down his throat.
He's sweating, Sandrock said, high and alarmed.
He was in the Libra, flying expertly through the low-grav halls. He found Dorothy Catalonia in the Central Computer, just as he'd expected. The slender young woman with flowing blonde hair and the VR mask, a lethal, feminine version of the madman who led the battle outside, produced a fencing foil. They had known each other once, as children, had played in a corner while their grown-up parents conducted business overhead. He'd mistaken her for one of his sisters, not old enough himself to understand that not every girl with yellow hair was related to him. She leapt through the air, effortlessly graceful in low-g, twisting lithe as a gazelle. He wove about her, evading her blows, understepping a riposte and spinning into a wall. Sandrock's whispers curled between them, He's sweating, stop fighting! He knew when he made the mistake that killed him, left his torso open protecting his flank, watched the needle-sharp point of the epee come closer and closer.
He woke thrashing, trying to pull the sword from his chest. Dark hair swung against his face, blinding him, as strong hands grabbed his and pulled them away from his chest.
'You're all right!' Duo shouted. 'Quatre, you're all right, you're safe.' His arm came free for just a second, and then Duo slapped him hard on the cheek.
Reason returned. The phantom agony in his chest faded with the dream.
Quatre lay still, panting hard, becoming aware of Duo kneeling over him, loose hair a tangled fall about them. The sound of his own blood in his ears merged with the clack of the overhead fan, the faint crash and wash of waves outside the open windows. It was late afternoon and the rich golden sunlight was falling across the carpet, across the quilt Quatre had tossed aside during his nightmare.
'I thought I was dying,' he murmured to Duo. Who freed his hand, and with a tissue from beside the bed, began to dab cooling sweat from his face. Quatre let him, shutting his eyes tight, confronting his own body and finding it whole. 'Silly, huh,' he managed.
Duo's fingers came to rest against his cheek. 'If you didn't dream, you'd already be dead,' he answered.
Quatre puffed a laugh out of a throat that was too dry. 'We're going to have to work on more comforting lines.' When he opened his eyes, Duo was grinning at him.
End Part 10
(:./erin/launch10)
