01-Jun-2000
Title: Nothing In Common (was Untitled 13x5)
Author: TB
Archive: GW Addiction
Category: kind of AU, yaoi
Pairing: 13x5, 2+1, 4+3, 5+2 (can we say soap opera?)
Rating: PG-13
Warning: lots of romantic confusion
Spoilers: some, for about 1/2 through the series
Notes: credit STILL going to Aurelie for the line
"Give me mind-blowing memories" in *her* 13x5.
Feedback: always appreciated
Disclaimers: I don't own GW, and I'm not profiting by
churning out this mushy garbage ^_^
Hi hi! Well I'm sure that NO ONE remembers when I
posted the first two parts of this thing, but I'm
putting up the next part anyway. It promises to be
generic unless some special person out there can give
me an idea of where to go with this... come on... you
know you want to... I'll give you full credit and a
lifetime supply of odango and lo-mein made from
Wufei's Grandmother's special secret family recipe...
It was very late when Duo finally began the process of putting himself to bed. Off came the boots--follow that with the pants, and the black shirt. He wobbled over into the bathroom, used Heero's toothbrush to scrub his teeth minty clean, brushed out and replaited his hair so it wouldn't crush while he slept on it, and tottered back into the bedroom he shared with Heero in just his boxers and under-shirt.
Heero was awake--well, why the hell not, *he* hadn't partied--and busy at his laptop. He wasn't typing, Duo noticed sleepily, he was just staring--which was pretty funny since the screen was blank, and if he had been just slightly more awake Duo would have laughed.
Instead, he flopped onto his bed, rolled over, and came nose to nose with a photograph.
Tired eyes picked out the details--and cheeks that had been pale with weariness were suddenly cherry-red.
"Can you explain that?" Heero asked quietly, without turning. "And can you tell me where in Hell my toothbrush is?"
"Oh no," Duo mumbled faintly.
Heero said nothing.
After a moment, Duo grabbed the print and sat up, staring down at it. "Oh, shit. Heero, I'm--"
"Don't be sorry," the Japanese boy interrupted. "Yet, anyway."
"It's not what it looks like."
"Then tell me what it is."
"You--you were--it was just a prank. To see if you would wake up."
Heero was disappointed. Intensely. Without knowing why, he lowered his eyes, staring down at his clenched fists and inwardly growing a little angry with himself that he couldn't seem to control what he felt around Duo. "That's it?" he demanded.
"Um. Um, yeah... No. I don't know."
Heero looked up.
In acute misery, Duo buried his face in his pillow and tried to disappear.
After a long time, Heero got up and left. Duo moaned softly to himself.
Quatre was a little relieved when an old contact got in touch with him the next morning. The tension around the breakfast table had been so thick he probably couldn't have sliced it with a laser scalpel--a little action was exactly what was needed. He carefully copied all the information the woman had for him; then he signed off the voicemail, and took his notepad into the kitchen, where the other pilots were still lingering over coffee.
"It's a convoy," he explained, taking the seat that Trowa hurried to clear for him and smiling at his friend. "OZ is moving a large shipment of mobile suits toward their Dover base in Britain. The suits are incapable of space travel, according to the contact, which means they'll probably be deployed throughout northern Europe to keep a tight reign on the populace."
Duo leaned over Quatre's shoulder to examine his notes. "Shouldn't take too long," he noted. "I'll go."
"You should take back-up," Trowa murmured. "I'll go with you."
"Nah," the American shook his head. "Honestly, this'll be a piece of cake. I'll handle it, and be back in time for dinner!"
Quatre exchanged a surprised glance with Wufei, who shrugged. Duo wasn't normally reckless--okay, sometimes a little careless and overconfident-- but never reckless. Duo smacked Quatre on the shoulder, and headed toward his room to grab his clothes.
When he was out of the room, Trowa said, "Maybe I should follow him."
Wufei shook his head. "He'd never forgive you," he advised. "He's got it in his head that he wants to be alone. Leave him. He's a good pilot."
That was high praise, coming from Wufei. Quatre wondered about that for a moment, but was distracted by Trowa. "Should we notify Heero?" the Latino pilot was asking.
"Find him first," Quatre sighed. "I wish he'd at least leave us notes, or something."
Duo flew back into the kitchen, his shirt only half-fastened and a jacket flying over one shoulder. He threw a bear-hug around Quatre's shoulders, then Wufei's, and settled for a high-five from Trowa, whose warning glance prevented the embrace Duo had been on the verge of delivering. "I'll see you guys tomorrow," Duo grinned. "I'll give the OZies a kick in the ass for ya!" He grabbed a leftover apple from the counter, and then he was gone, braid trailing and just missing being caught by the slamming door.
The three pilots left behind shared a long look.
"Was it just me, or did he seem a little *too* cheerful?" Quatre inquired.
Wufei suddenly flushed, and became very interested in his tea cup. "You know how he is," he muttered. "We were up so late last night. He probably inhaled a gallon of coffee this morning. Caffeine high."
"Yeah," the blonde agreed. Something itched the back of his mind. Why did Wufei look so uncomfortable suddenly? And what had Wufei just said, that had been so out-of-character for the usually taciturn pilot? He was on the verge of remembering...
Trowa stood, and began to clear the table. Quatre forgot all about his questions as he leapt to help. Smiling a little sadly at their antics, Wufei left them. When would they finally admit to each other that they were in love?
*Please be safe, Duo,* he thought, identifying the sound of a Gundam taking off outside their safe-house. *I'll never forgive myself, if it was our conversation last night that had you acting so stupidly. Don't you dare get hurt.*
End part 3
(:./erin/nothing3)
