He looked ridiculous!
Chang Wufei glared into the mirror, trying very hard not to think about what he was doing here. "Here" being a small, scarlet and ebony bedecked room within a discreet, expensive, but unabashed house of prostitution.
Oh, that wasn't what the owners called it. Or the customers, for that matter. But that's what it was. And Wufei was here, not as a client, but as a resident.
Not a good place to be.
But he had a Target, and this was the only way he had of getting close enough to kill the man.
Not even Yuy had been able to uncover a weak spot in the Target's defenses. It would be impossible to assassinate the Target without getting oneself killed in the process. And the Target -- while nearly essential to the Romefeller Foundation -- wasn't worth losing an entire Gundam pilot over. Even Yuy had admitted that much, when prodded to it by Maxwell.
So they had needed to explore options.
And Wufei had finally happened upon a chance. A certain brothel that the Target visited every time he was in this town, where the Target always tried the new boys, whenever there was one. A chance to get him alone and vulnerable. A chance. Slim, but better than suicidal.
Depending on how one viewed it.
Not better for Yuy or Maxwell, who had a strange but rather sweet relationship blossoming between them. This was perfectly clear to Wufei. Shaky as they both were in this new venture, as fresh to the experience of loving and being loved, there was no way either could have undertaken this mission. Not and come through with their love intact.
But he... he had no one. No love, no lover, to damage by his actions. No family to disapprove. And it would cripple the Romefeller Foundation at least momentarily to lose the Target -- as he forced himself to think of the man.
So...
He just had to think more on protecting Yuy and Maxwell, than on what Nataku would say.
She couldn't disapprove... could she?
He flinched. No doubt she could. Loudly. And hit him for good measure.
This was no way to become worthy of being her husband. This was no fit tribute to her memory.
But her memory became less sharp every day. Her face had faded, and her name had become synonymous in his mind with the notion of justice. To fight the enemy, to win the war, to protect those he might in other circumstances consider friends....
Wasn't that more important than his own flesh? His own sense of worth?
Because, to tell the truth, there wasn't much of worth left to him. He fought for the memory of Nataku, for the memory of the Dragon Clan. For the sake of Nataku's justice.
Take those away, and he had...
Nothing.
So, if he was indeed nothing outside his mission, then what harm was there in following through on the mission, whatever steps became necessary?
These thoughts rang a bit hollow, and so he tried not to think on the matter at all.
Instead, he examined the changes wrought upon his appearance in the past several hours, in the high, ornate mirror set in one corner.
He definitely looked ridiculous.
He looked like the slut he was posing as, not like the warrior he was at the heart of the matter. This transformation was quite disconcerting, and had been effected too easily for his peace of mind.
His hair had, of course, been loosened from its ponytail. He hadn't worn his hair loose since Nataku's death. But this wasn't too much of a reminder, for instead of streaming neatly down the back of his neck, it had been teased to whisper about his face in gentle wings. It made him look soft and feel foolish. It looked so stupid....
But not as stupid as the makeup. He could not *believe* they had placed cosmetics upon his face! But he had acquiesced with only mild protest, for he needed to follow through on this charade to get his chance at the Target.
But, makeup!
His eyes had been darkened about the rims with kohl and dusky shadow, accentuating their delicate slanted width and deep midnight color. His copper cheeks had been lightly colored with a warm blush, his lips traced and bruised a dark mahogany shade. His face, shoulders, and bared chest had been brushed with gold dust, absolutely useless, and completely unnecessary.
He looked ridiculous. That was the only word that sprang to mind.
And never mind the clothing!
The tight black leather pants fit the decor of the room, but they were uncomfortable as hell and made it difficult to move quickly. He almost looked forward to an opportunity to take them o--
No! He wouldn't allow his thoughts to travel there! If it became necessary, so be it, but he wasn't going to dwell on the idea before he was forced to!
The pants didn't bother him half as much as the matching collar, he decided. He did *not* like that at *all*! Nor any of the implications tied up in the accessory.
Bare feet gave him an odd sense of vulnerability, completing his image. He had an uncomfortable feeling that, leather aside, the proprietor of this place had pegged him instantly as a virgin, and that he would appear so to anyone who saw him.
Gods help him...
No. He couldn't look to any gods for help. He was here of his own choice, by his own free will. He was on his own, as it ever was.
He drew a deep breath. And so it was, and so it would be. Whatever happened, he had made his decision, and he would stick by it.
That resolve did not stop his heart from stuttering painfully against his breastbone as the door suddenly opened. He choked back the sudden overwhelming surge of panic that broke over him, and turned. Here was his "client". Here was his Target.
Here was--
TREIZE KHUSHRENADA?!?!?!
Wufei's expression of determination melted away to sheer astonishment.
There was the head of OZ, large as life, and dressed in a neat black jacket over a deep blue teeshirt and slim black slacks. The last time Wufei had seen the man in person -- as well as the first time -- he had been in a stiff uniform, but there was no mistaking him for another man; especially not the Target. He looked... different... in civvies. Younger, less imposing, but somehow all the more intimidating to Wufei.
Or maybe it was just the situation they were in.
Treize carefully closed and locked the door behind him, before turning back to the shell-shocked boy standing frozen in the center of the room.
"Good evening, Chang Wufei," he greeted softly, stepping forward.
"Wh-what are *you* doing here?!?!" Wufei managed to choke out, eyes rounded to saucer-size.
A lazy smile crossed Treize's full lips. "I might ask you the same question."
Wufei straightened, face firming in distaste. "I am here to complete a mission, as should be obvious to one of your intelligence and craft. But you--" he sputtered. "I did not think you so base in carnal desires that you would stoop to paying for sexual favors of this nature!"
"You think so highly of me, dragon?" Treize drawled, sitting with loose-limbed grace in one of the chairs at the small table.
"I do not think so little of you that I would ever expect to see you here," Wufei prevaricated. "That you would stoop to coming to a place reeking of loveless intercourse and forced affections is unthinkable!"
"And, then, do not even I get lonely?" Treize murmured.
Wufei was floored a moment. "But-- But--" he stuttered, dragging an irritated hand through the loose hair falling in his face. "A place like *this*! I could not see you visiting a common house of prostitution to relieve such needs. For no matter the expense and fancy veneer, this is nothing more nor less than a whorehouse!"
"Then it must follow that I am here for another reason."
He blinked at Treize. "Nani?"
That tawny gold head cocked, lazy blue-velvet eyes surveying him from his bare toes to the tip of his dark head. He flushed brightly.
"If I am not here for sex or companionship, then it must follow that I am here for another reason."
"And that reason would be?"
"To prevent you from making a terrible mistake."
"WHAT?!?" Wufei practically screamed the word.
Treize flinched minutely. "Please, dragon. There is nothing at all wrong with my hearing."
Wufei's eyes narrowed to blazing black slits. "And how did you know I would be here?" he demanded tautly, fists clenched.
Treize looked pained. "I shall allow you your secrets, dragon; in return, you must allow me mine."
"But you-- but this is a matter of--" Wufei sputtered, unable to articulate his protests properly. If Treize had known he was here, how much else did the man know? And how personal was any such knowledge? "I-- You--"
Heavy-lidded eyes gleamed. "Rest easy, young dragon. You shall come to no harm at my hand."
Wufei eyed him suspiciously. "You are here to prevent me carrying out my mission."
"No." Treize shook his head, sitting forward. "If I wished that, all I would have had to do would have been to send a few soldiers. They would not have been able to capture you, of course, but they would have blown your cover quite thoroughly."
Wufei drew in a shuddering breath. What Treize said was true. "So, why didn't you?" he asked shakily.
"I wished to spare you any such embarrassment. You do not wish anyone to know you were in a position such as *this*, do you?" An elegant hand waved to encompass the rich but quite obviously amatory setting.
Wufei blushed painfully. "I see..."
"Do you?" Treize stood suddenly and moved to grasp Wufei's chin before he could jerk away. "Do you really understand what you have gotten yourself into here, little one?"
Wufei swallowed hard, cold fright suddenly flooding through his veins in an icy rush. Treize was too close, too tall, too big... and the room seemed to shrink until it encompassed them both too closely.
"I-- I--"
"And if I had not come, if your targeted victim had come, what would you have done?" There was something hard and implacable in Treize's voice.
"I-- Wh-whatever needed to be done!" Wufei firmed his chin, glaring up at his enemy, eyes blazing.
"Oh, dragon... do you even know whereof you speak?" Treize asked, almost mournfully.
"What I do doesn't matter!" Wufei jerked his face away from Treize's hard hand, taking a step backwards, though he was loath to lose ground to the man. "All that matters is completing my mission!" He was uncomfortably aware that he sounded too much like Yuy. But he was here to save both Yuy and Maxwell, to protect their fledgling love, to avert a tragedy before it could be enacted. Anything was worth that... right?
"Do you really believe that?" Treize murmured, eyes widening in shock.
Wufei averted his face. "There are other reasons..."
"Such as?"
"You said you would allow me my secrets!" he flared, shoulders stiffening. "You can't force me to tell you my reasons!"
"No. Nor would I wish to."
Wufei relaxed a little.
"But do you truly believe you are less important than your mission?" Treize seemed genuinely upset, as he moved to pour two glasses of fine wine.
Wufei accepted one, but merely held it in his hands, untouched. His brow knit.
"If I have no one.... If there is nothing left to me but my war efforts..."
"Dragon, do you account yourself less honor than you account me?" Treize asked sharply, pacing before the outsized fireplace, the flames filling the dark liquid in his wineglass with a crimson light, glowing through long, slender fingers.
Wufei's spine stiffened, his chin raising. "Are you questioning my honor?"
"*I* am not. But if you account me too honorable to frequent a place such as this, how do you account yourself any less worth than I, to dwell within it, even if only for one night, even if only for the sake of a mission?!"
Wufei swallowed thickly. He hadn't considered it that way. Had tried not to consider it at all.
"I--"
"If you give up your humanity to this war, then you lose even if you win."
He scowled at Treize. "I don't need to hear that!"
"I think perhaps you do." Treize moved to sit once more, sipping his wine. "I think you have needed to hear that for a long time."
"Hn." Wufei put down his wineglass firmly. He didn't want to hear it, didn't want to give the words any consideration. So it were best to change the subject. "And now you are here, and I am here. What is to stop me from killing you directly?"
Treize smiled gently. "I will entrust myself to your sense of honor."
"What?"
"I am here unarmed, with no intent to damage you in any way. There are no blades within this room, and I will not be provoked. So you have no cause to fight me, and I trust to your honor that I shall leave here in the morning, unharmed."
"M-morning?!" Wufei squeaked.
Treize looked immensely amused. "Yes, morning, little one. After all, I paid for an entire night in your company, did I not?" He grinned at Wufei, whose mouth was working silently, eyes huge. "Although, I must say, the goods were vastly undervalued."
Wufei sputtered furiously, face flushing, hands clenching at his sides. "Goods?! You-- you dare to refer to me as--" He broke off, dark gaze jumping almost fearfully to Treize's face as the man stood once more, towering over him. So captured was he within the deep, searing velvet of those impossible intent blue eyes, that he barely felt the fingers clasping his chin once more.
"And so you *do* have a sense of worth left to you."
"Wh-what?"
Treize bent and Wufei flinched, but those full lips only caress his smooth brow lightly, and then Treize was back in his chair, almost before Wufei could blink. The young head of OZ steepled his fingers before his mouth, his gaze thoughtful.
"Are you..." Wufei stiffened his back again, deciding upon the direct approach. "What exactly are your intentions, Khushrenada?" A huge portion of him was screaming at the words he had just uttered, fearing the response as he had feared few things in his life. His body was tensed as though to flee, but he remained in control, standing straight and meeting Treize's bright eyes forthrightly.
"Intentions?" Treize cocked his head once more, mouth pursing. "I was not aware that I had 'intentions'."
Wufei narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Do not toy with me, Khushrenada," he gritted.
"Never." Treize ran a hand through his tousled hair and retrieved his wineglass from the table, turning it slowly, watching the light catch and shatter within the red-tinged facets of its crystal sides. "Is it not enough to proclaim myself lonely and desirous of the company of one that I believe knows the loneliness of war and displacement as well as I?"
Wufei blinked. "I..."
Vibrant blue pierced him as Treize raised his gaze once more. "Are you not lonely, dragon?"
Wufei lifted his chin. "I prefer solitude!"
Treize looked at him quietly, his expression almost mournful. "Do you lie to me... or to yourself... I wonder," he murmured, so softly Wufei almost did not hear him.
Wufei swallowed tightly and looked away. Lying to himself.... But it was easier to do so than deal with the stinging losses so recently enacted upon him. It hurt enough -- it hurt more when he thought on how alone he truly was.
"You may leave if you will, dragon," Treize spoke up, his smooth cultured voice sounding resigned and... almost... sad. "I shall not hold you against your will."
Wufei kept his gaze averted. "I have to... have to seek out my Target and--"
"He is dead, dragon."
"WHAT?!?" Wufei screamed for the second time that night, wide startled black eyes jumping to Treize, his face registering utter shock.
Treize smirked slightly, raising the glass to his lips. "I apologize, dragon, but I undertook to complete your mission for you. I hope you can find it in your heart to grant me forgiveness..."
"But-- But--" Wufei stuttered, filled with utter confusion. "But he was your ally! He was--"
"He was a filthy pervert, and I will not allow such to touch you, even in conjecture." There was hard steel in Treize's voice as he placed his empty glass upon the table. "And he was not worth this trouble," he waved a hand once again to indicate their surroundings, "No matter how little you might think of yourself, dragon."
Wufei thinned his rouged lips, trying to sort through the roiling tangle of emotions filling his mind. On the one hand, he was swept through with a profound sense of relief, that he would not be required to do anything that would make him feel dirty, that he would regret for the rest of his life. On the other, he was furious that Treize had stepped in, interfered, made his kill for him; in essence proclaiming that he thought Wufei incapable of finishing the job -- even if that was not how the man truly meant it. There was a strange, sharp sort of pain, that anyone might think he was worth any sort of effort, even one who was counted his enemy, as well as a furthering of his already powerful respect for Khushrenada.
He also felt a flash of fear, as he felt himself losing the distance he had so carefully crafted for himself, as he felt himself coming to respect Treize as a person, more than as an opponent. That was not right, not the way it should be! A warrior might respect his enemy, and in truth it was better when he could. But he ought not to feel anything more; nothing close to comradeship!
But it was too late. He could feel the loneliness in Treize echoing his own, calling to the emptiness of his own soul. And if he could fill that loneliness, for both of them, even if only for one night....
"What did..." He cleared his throat, raising vulnerable black eyes to meet Treize's softened blue. "What did you wish to discuss?" he asked, voice small and rough.
Treize looked startled, as though he had not truly thought he would gain Wufei's capitulation, but he recovered swiftly from his surprise. "Whatever you like, dragon," he said smoothly. "The night is young, and so are we. Even though sometimes it does not feel that way."
"I feel ancient," Wufei said softly, wrapping his arms about himself.
"Weary," Treize mused softly, moving his gaze to the fire. "Ancient and weary, and sometimes you just want it all to end, but you can't let it, because you have so much still to do."
Wufei examined him in wonder a moment. Those strong features were softened and blurred with a fatigue Treize would never let anyone else see. It was hard to remember that the man was only nine years older than he... hard to remember he himself had only seen fifteen short years.
"Battle is good for a warrior, but war wears upon his soul and grinds him down to nothing," he intoned softly, padding across the wooden floor and sliding smoothly to sit at Treize's feet. He winced as his leather pants caught painfully, then had to smile at the waves of astonishment he could just *feel* radiating from the older man.
"As you say, dragon," Treize murmured. "And moments like these are few and far between. I doubt we shall get another such."
Wufei sighed heavily and moved to rest his head against Treize's knee. Propriety be damned. He no longer had a mission, and he was so tired of the loneliness. Tonight he would do as he felt, and if he wound up with regrets... well, he'd deal with them later. He was so very tired of killing his emotions, so very afraid of the emptiness he could feel encroaching upon his soul. Even if Treize was an enemy, he was someone who understood. And he was here, and warm, and Wufei just wasn't going to consider anything any further than that.
"Dragon?"
He shivered slightly as warm fingers threaded through his loose hair, but somehow this contact, this human touch killed a little of the coldness inside.
"Just for tonight. One night," he stipulated, voice husky.
"Of course."
And, really, what more could they ask for?
~owari~
(:./knm/begin)
