March 9, 2001
Title: Crossed Wires
Author: AstroKender
Pairings: very faint 2+3, 3+2
Rating: Alternate Timeline
Warnings: foul language. Some minor angst here.
Spoilers: Hmm...nope.
Notes: This is a small fic I've wanted to put out to reflect how much Duo and Trowa seem to clash during the series. Important! This doesn't go along with the series. There may be some similarities, but don't try to pin it to a specific time or you'll get a headache. This is purely a 'what if' kind of thing.
Disclaimers: I own nothing...Don't sue.
Duo carefully turned his head around so he could stare incredulously at the Latin boy. Trowa wasn't even looking at him; his eyes were fixed on the image on the screen. Quatre's eyes narrowed.
"You're bluffing. Even you would never do such a thing. And besides, if he were that expendable to you, he would be dead already."
Still not turning his eyes away from the Arab, Trowa fired.
Duo winced as he felt a searing pain flash across his cheek, but he dared not move. This guy is fucking crazy!
"I never bluff." Trowa said coldly as he reached over and turned Duo's face towards the screen, so that the blond could watch as the blood trail down from a gash on the braided boy's cheek.
"Next time I'll aim more carefully..."
"You bastard!" Quatre seemed to lose all reason. "It because of heartless pieces of shit like you that my father's dead!"
A warning light signaled and Private Johnson ran over to check it. "Sir! The enemy's beam rifle is aimed once again at the base." The young man paled. "Sir! It's aimed right for this sector!"
Quatre's visage looked sorrowfully down at Duo. "I'm sorry you had to be stuck in the middle of this. Goodbye."
"Quatre wait!" Duo slammed his arms up, knocking away Trowa's pistol. He quickly hit the Latin boy upside the head with his shackles, sending him to the floor, before rushing the other officer.
The Private fumbled for his gun, but Duo was much quicker. A quick blow to the neck, and the young man slumped to the floor, unconscious. Duo ran up to the control panel.
"Please Quatre, don't fire until you here me out!"
Aquamarine eyes looked back at him in agony. "They killed my father, Duo! They have to pay."
Duo shook his head. "I heard it on the news. I'm sorry Quatre. But it wasn't the Colonies' fault! OZ has them blinded."
"I know that! I realized it after I blew up that colony..." The Arab whispered. His eyes hardened. "That's why I'm here. I'm going to destroy OZ."
Duo shook his head. "You can't take on OZ all by yourself! Were a team, remember?"
Quatre looked over where Trowa was struggling to stand up. "Not him. He betrayed us. He should die a traitor's death." His eyes shifted to Duo. "But you, you don't deserve that. Get out Duo! Steal a shuttle and get out of there before I destroy it!"
The braided boy shook his head sadly once more. "I can't do that Quatre."
"W-why not?"
"I can't abandon one of us. I can't leave Trowa to die."
"But he's working for OZ now!" Quatre shouted. "He's the enemy!"
Duo knelt down and helped the Latin boy to his feet, ignoring his questioning looks. "It's for a mission, Quatre. He's been working undercover."
Quatre's eyes widened. "W-what? Trowa?"
The green eyed pilot stared up at Quatre, a dark bruise already beginning to color the side of his face. "I would never betray you, Quatre..." he whispered, leaning heavily against the braided boy.
Duo looked up at the blond once more. "Look Quatre, OZ isn't what we once thought it was. It's now broken, disjointed. Soon, it will fall altogether; you just have to give it time. We now have allies on the inside, allies besides Trowa. If we attack OZ now they may reunite to protect themselves. If that happens, we're finished."
The blonde slumped against his harness, looking very exhausted and lost. "Then what am I supposed to do?"
"Go to earth. Give that new Gundam to Heero; it doesn't suit you. Then find the Maguanacs. You need time to grieve...and to heal."
Slowly, Quatre nodded. "I'll do that...but what about you?"
Duo grinned over at the Latin boy beside him. "I have my own mission to finish."
"Take care of yourself then. And Trowa? I'm sorry..."
The Latin boy nodded silently.
"Till we all meet again. Quatre Raberba Winner out."
The screen erupted into static as the Gundam flew off, it's target abandoned. After making sure Trowa could stand on his own, Duo walked over to the unconscious soldier.
"Poor kid, he's going to wake up with one hell of a headache." The braided boy said, absently wiping the blood from his cheek.
"Duo?"
The cobalt-eyed boy paused, but didn't turn around. "Yeah?"
"Thank you."
Duo whirled around, a cheerful grin plastered on his face. "If you ever shoot me again, I'm gonna fucking knock your head off..." His words belayed the fake smile.
Trowa nodded solemnly. "I apologize. I-I thought it would make him stop."
"Well you can take your apology and stick it up your-"
A sudden moaning from the floor interrupted Duo's blistering retort. Looking down, he watched as the unconscious OZ officer slowly began to stir. Grumbling, the braided pilot walked back over to Trowa.
"You got one punch to knock me out, and don't even think about hitting me in the stomach."
Trowa's eyes widened. "What are you talking about?"
Duo rolled his eyes. "The prisoner broke free and attacked you and the other officer. You had to subdue me somehow! Or do you plan on having your cover blown so soon?"
"You're right." The Latin boy nodded. "I'm sorry." He slowly drew back his fist.
"Oh, shove it, Bart-"
His breath was quickly knocked out of him as Trowa's fist slammed into his stomach. Duo slipped to the floor with a curse.
"You...are a prick." He croaked before giving in to unconsciousness.
"I know." Trowa allowed himself a small smile as he carefully threw the boy over his shoulder. He looked over at Private Johnson, who was just now getting up on his hands and knees.
"Are you alright?"
Jeremy shook his head slightly to clear it. "Ugh...I feel like-" He looked up. "The Gundam! We're under attack!"
Trowa shook his head and shifted his burden slightly. "The Gundam pilot retreated. We're safe now."
The young officer shakily got to his feet. "Would you like me to return the prisoner to his cell sir?"
"Negative. The entire cellblock has been damaged. And you're in no shape to handle a prisoner. I will be taking him to my quarters and putting him under watch. You should go to the medical center and have a doctor look at you."
After taking a close look at the unconscious pilot, Jeremy nodded. "Yes, sir. But first I'll get you some cuffs so you can chain the prisoner down."
"Good thinking, Private. I don't think he'll be too happy when he wakes up."
"Ugh..." He ached all over.
Unwilling to open his eye to the cold light of reality just yet, Duo took a moment to absorb his surroundings. He was on stomach, laying on something soft, pliant: a bed. Cool air caressed his bare skin. Wait a minute! Bare? Needing some tactile conformation, the braided boy attempted to lower his arms but was jerked to a stop. Giving a couple experimental tugs, he realized that he was chained to the headboard. Wiggling around, he decided they had at least left him the decency of his boxers.
Muttering an oath he struggled vainly to scratch an itch below his eye. Rubbing his face against his bare arm he encountered a small patch of resistance. Someone had bandaged his cheek.
If he thinks that will score him some brownie points with me he has another thing coming. Duo thought vehemently.
Hearing a door open, Duo snapped his eyes open. He watched silently as Trowa walked over to him, a small bundle in his arms. The Latin boy tossed his burden on the bed and reached over to unchain Duo's arms.
As soon as he was free the cobalt-eyed boy launched himself at Trowa. But the other boy seemed to expect it and within minutes had him pinned back down on the bed, his own lean body holding the braided boy down.
Duo glared into dispassionate green eyes. "What the fuck do you want from me, Barton?
"I thought you could use a shower." The banged pilot replied, swiftly refastening the cuffs to Duo's wrists. "You smell like shit."
Duo had to admit a shower sounded heavenly about then. "Fine. Get the hell off me."
After making sure Duo wasn't going to attack him again, Trowa swiftly removed himself from on top of the American. Duo wasn't sure, but he could have swore he saw a faint tinge of color flood the other boy's cheeks.
"The bathroom is in there. You have fifteen minutes to wash. If you're not out by then I'm coming in after you."
"Fine, fine." Duo muttered. "Just get these cuffs off."
"The cuffs stay."
Duo stared at him. "What? How the hell am I supposed to take a shower with these things on?" He waved the heavy manacles in the air.
Trowa looked entirely too smug. "I'm sure a man with your talents can handle it."
"Fuck off." Duo shot back. He raised his hands to his bandaged cheek. "What am I supposed to do about this?"
Trowa strode over to him. Grabbing a corner, he ripped the bandage off. "I'll redo it later."
"Fuck!" Duo cursed, holding his stinging cheek. "Shit! God damn it Trowa!"
The Latin boy looked at his watch. "You've got thirteen minutes left."
Still cursing, the American flipped him off before stalking into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
End Part Five
(:./astrokender/crossed5)
