09-Jul-2004
Title: monster trucks, roadside weeds, and the art of seducing duo maxwell
Author: Sol 1056
rating: pg-13 for mild language
warning: heh. this is ME, remember?
pairing: 3+4 to start, 1+2 by end. *fingers crossed*
archived: gundam wing addiction, sweetlysour
comments & crits welcome, I don't own, etc.
and now, the conclusion of this little saga...
Thursday I was again forced by luck or Une's sadism to sit at the front of an auditorium and stare down Preventer applicants my age or a few years older. They were lined up neatly with their archaic sheets of paper – which the board of directors had determined made it harder to cheat – and their number two pencils. Granted, even Heero might have trouble hacking a sheet of paper, but I'm sure with enough time and some help from Duo, he'd figure out a way.
"Agent Barton," someone whispered. I looked up from my paperwork – purporting to be a massive tome on the firearms policies for sub-agency teams, which was in fact hiding the latest paperback mystery novel inside the cover – and saw one of the older Preventers waiting by the desk. "Agent Barton," she said, and cleared her throat. "Agent Chang sent me down to spell you. He said you should head to the pilot testing room immediately."
A minute later I was striding down the hallway, documentation and illicit novel tucked under my arm. I stepped through the doorway of the pilot training lab to find the applicants up in arms. Well, not entirely. They were pilots, not officers, so their arms were up but didn't include firearms. Considering it was Heero at the head of the classroom, this was probably a good thing, or our year's crop of new pilots would've been toast.
"The test is impossible," one young man railed. Heero was at the head of the room, his arms folded, leaning against the desk, his expression calm but his eyes dark and thunderous. The young man – probably a few years older than me – didn't seem to notice the warning signs, but kept right on arguing. "There's no way anyone can pass this!"
A number of other students echoed their agreement, and I stepped inside the door to lean against the wall. I could only suppose Wufei had determined that for some reason my attendance might prevent bloodshed. I doubted it was to keep the students in line; more likely, it was to keep Heero in line.
"Forty-seven students," Heero said, and his voice carried easily over the ruckus. "Fourteen passed, and even that with only seventy-percent. No one scored above seventy-five. Unacceptable."
Who the hell put Heero in charge of this class, anyway? Oh, right, the professional sadist, Une.
"It can be done," Heero continued. He picked up the phone from the desk, and hit a few buttons. "Send him down, Chang." Heero slammed down the phone and glared at the students. "And I'll prove it."
The next few minutes were tense, while the students sorted themselves out at their various VR pilot-screens. Their helmets were on, their hands on the faux gear shifts, ready to follow the progress of whomever would prove the course was not only manageable but possible at all. I narrowed my eyes at the master screen behind the desk. Something about it looked familiar, but when Duo arrived, I had to bite down to keep from laughing. I knew exactly what scenario it was, then.
"What's got your panties in a wad?" Duo glared at Heero. "I was in the middle of---hey!" His gaze fell on the master VR box, at the front of the classroom. "Is that the latest vid setup?"
"Your attention span's down to two seconds, Maxwell," Heero said, in a flat tone that indicated he was needling Duo. And Duo, of course, bristled, and then promptly ignored him, sliding into the master seat and putting on the goggles. Heero gave him the test parameters in a bored voice. "You have to get from the starting point to the asteroid docking bay, with minimum damage and all life forms on the shuttle intact."
"Yuy," Duo started to whine. "This is a cargo ship setup! You want me to---"
Heero put his hand on Duo's shoulder, leaned past him, and hit a few buttons. Duo squawked, and some of the students gasped, watching in their VR helmets. I raised my eyebrows; Heero had just downgraded the shuttle to one with half the power and maneuverability of the previous selection.
"You talk too much, Maxwell," Heero said, but I noticed he squeezed Duo's shoulder.
"Uh... Yuy?" Duo twisted in his seat, his helmet still on, and I could hear bewilderment in his voice. I had a suspicion he was a bit surprised by Heero's affection, but the moment wasn't the most romantic. First, Duo was blind to the classroom as long as that helmet was on, and second, Heero was already punching the start button for the test. Duo yelped, and straightened up in the seat. "Yuy, you bastard, what the---"
Shots were already coming at the shuttle from the asteroid in the program, and Duo protested inarticulately a few more times before falling silent in concentration as he jerked the shuttle wildly to miss the oncoming shots. Heero leaned against the desk, crossed his arms, and lowered his head. Just as he did, I swear I saw him wink at me.
"Shut up and pilot, Maxwell." Heero lowered his head to his chest, but his voice carried easily over the annoyed grunts while Duo maneuvered the bulky shuttle past the enemy fire. Heero closed his eyes. "Wake me when you're done."
I shook my head, and settled into an empty seat at the back. Flipping the documentation open on my lap, I paged through the paperback until I found my place. Shutting out the sounds of explosions on the master screen, I sank back down into the mystery of how Miss Priscilla had been found dead in the garden, stabbed through the neck.
Ten minutes later I raised my head to find Heero glaring down at me.
"That is not the manual on firearms policies and procedures," he informed me. "We're supposed to be meeting tomorrow to discuss the revised guidelines---"
Before I could open my mouth, Duo appeared, and plucked the book from my hands. "Thanks for holding it for me. Great book, isn't it?" He tapped the book against his forehead and gave me a conspiratorial grin. "By the way, Mister Findley-Brogan did it. With a pair of scissors." Holding the book over his head, he sailed from the classroom, chuckling wickedly.
"Fucker," I muttered. I'd been certain the culprit was Lord Schelling.
"Barton," Heero snapped.
I realized most of the students were filing out, as well, leaving us alone in the training room. I did my best to look innocent, and Heero's eyes narrowed. Looked like I was going to have to tell Quatre the tally just went to seventeen-five. I consoled myself with the knowledge the score was still in my favor.
Friday morning Quatre had an early meeting, and didn't join us for coffee. Heero and I stood in line, patiently if somewhat catatonically waiting for our turn to speak to the powers that be, also known as the cute girl who controlled the espresso machine.
"I need to speed the process," Heero grunted.
"Start by shooting those managers," I muttered, jerking my head towards the bigwigs taking their damn time placing their order.
"No, with Duo," Heero replied.
"Right." That was my next guess. I attempted to look half-awake. "What about him? You didn't call last night. I thought that meant it went well."
"We were almost finished with the truck, but he had to run errands," Heero said. He gave his order to the girl behind the counter and stepped back, his arms crossed. "And before you ask, no. I didn't."
"Oh." I groped blindly for the coffee cup placed in my hand, nodded to the girl, paid out my cash, and stumbled towards the café's door. Heero was right behind me, that smirk fixed firmly on his face. "Shut it, Yuy, I need this stuff."
"Roger," he said, and the smirk faded to one of concern. "I need to escalate. I made a list of things that everyone else has done... " He dug in his pocket, and handed me a sheet of notepaper.
"Dinner, theater, flowers, wine," I read the list and handed it back. "Seems straightforward."
Heero scowled. "You're missing the point. That's what everyone else did."
I blinked, and nodded. "Then come up with something that's not what everyone else did."
"I'm trying." Heero glared at the receptionist, she quivered in fear, he looked satisfied, and I sighed.
It was another day at work, if you didn't count my partner's new obsession with an alternate liquid refreshment for expensive wine. Yeah, just another day at the office.
At lunch, Heero insisted on eating in the office, and I propped my feet up on my desk while I picked around the cherry tomatoes in my salad. He was frowning at the screen, and clicking at random moments.
"What are you doing over there?" I gazed at him over my last bite of salad.
Heero was quiet for a moment, before clicking once more. The printer whirred, and he grabbed the sheet, handing it to me. I read it, and gave him a startled look.
"A drive-in?"
"Yeah." Heero looked pleased with himself. "Apparently the last six... attempts took Duo to the theater." He gave me a long-suffering stare when I shrugged, not sure what the difference was. "The real theater," he repeated. "With real people. And a real curtain."
I handed him back the sheet, and nodded. The minute I had a chance, I ducked out of the office and went in search of Wufei and Quatre. It appeared the stress of wooing Duo was destroying Heero's last few brain cells.
On the way home, traffic was heavy, and I slouched behind the wheel, trying to ignore Quatre's soft mutterings about how close we were to the other cars. We inched along the divided highway. Heero was in the backseat, reading up on mission parameters for a situation on L3, while I was doing my best not to reach out and throttle the love of my life.
"Trowa," Quatre whispered. "That BMW---"
I gritted my teeth. "Quatre," I said. "If I can handle nine different mobile---"
"Trowa," Heero said, much louder, startling me. "Stop the car!"
"Damn it," I snapped. "My driving is not that bad!"
"Yes it is, but stop anyway!"
Heero banged on the back of my headrest, and I pulled over in the left-lane shoulder. He was out of the car instantly and wading through knee-high grasses and flowers on the center strip of the highway.
"Uh... Trowa," Quatre said. "Heero is picking flowers."
"I see that," I replied. I couldn't take my eyes off the vision of Heero, in full Preventers uniform, puzzling over the batch of yellow sunflowers versus red poppies. "Last time I checked, you're not allergic to goldenrod, too, are you? I think my hay fever medicine is at home, but I'm not sure how much we have left."
"I'm not, and it's not goldenrod season anyway," Quatre answered, very slowly. "But I think Heero might need some good drugs."
"Or less of whatever he's already taking," I muttered, watching as Heero gathered an armful of small purple blossoms and added them to his collection.
He got back into the car, arms full, and settled into the backseat. Quatre was in the front seat, looking somewhere between ultimately pleased and pole-axed, while I could only sneak glances in the rear view mirror at Heero's satisfied expression. Unfortunately, it didn't last long. It took us another thirty minutes in heavy traffic before we pulled up at Heero's apartment, and I turned around to see him frowning at the flowers. They'd wilted in the mid-spring heat, and were lying limp across his lap.
"They should've gone in water right away," Quatre said. "But you could always just buy---"
"No," Heero said, and gathered up his briefcase. He grasped the bundle, now significantly smaller and droopier, and seemed to come to a decision. "Could you drop Quatre off and come back for me?"
"Come back... " I groaned. I'd just been driving for an hour, and now he wanted another hour on top of that? Quatre shot me a glare, cut his eyes at Heero, and I could sense I'd either get the silent treatment if I said no, or something special if I said yes. Visions of naked Quatres swum in my head, and I set my jaw, nodding. "Sure. I'll see you in an hour?"
"Bring a shovel."
I blinked a few times, and scowled at Heero. "I am not helping you bury the bodies of Duo's ex-lovers."
Heero rolled his eyes at me. "If I were to kill any of them, there wouldn't be enough left to bury. Don't forget, Barton. See ya, Winner."
"Uh... sure, Heero," Quatre said, craning his neck to watch Heero trot quickly into his apartment building. Quatre turned to me, his blue-green eyes as wide as I'd ever seen them. "A shovel?"
"I don't want to know," I told him. "I just don't want to know."
So it was that I spent my Friday evening standing guard on the side of the highway while Heero dug up two poppy plants, a daisy plant, and three scraggly purple flowering weeds. Each one was carefully put into a plastic bag and situated on the back seat of the car. Fortunately no cops pulled over to investigate the dangerous looking man with a shovel, accompanied by the not-quite-as-dangerous looking man pacing along the shoulder looking baffled.
We pulled away from the shoulder, and I did my best to appear casual as I merged back into traffic. The last thing I needed was to face down Une on Monday morning, trying to come up with an explanation for why I'd assisted Agent Yuy in perpetrating horticultural vandalism.
I dropped Heero off at his apartment, then checked my cell phone only to find Quatre had had to run back to the office for a late pre-mission meeting with Wufei and Une. He must have called while I was outside the car. Disgruntled, I threw the phone on the passenger's seat and headed to the bar near headquarters, where I knew there'd be a bunch of Preventers hanging out after work. I could wait there for Quatre.
When I walked through the door, I was surprised to see Duo holding court with seven or eight friends near the back. I'd assumed he would be with Heero, but realized Heero hadn't said anything about Duo coming over. And I hadn't asked. The smell of dirt was still permeating my nostrils, and frankly I wasn't sure I wanted to know what Heero was planning.
Duo waved me over, and ordered a beer for me, introducing me to the rest of the group. I nodded politely to each, and settled into the vacated chair next to Duo. A half-hour passed of them conversing around me as I nursed my beer, then another half-hour. No word from Quatre, and I did my best to appear interested, if quiet.
It was almost eight when most of them had wandered off, leaving only Duo and me. He ordered another beer for each of us.
"What has Yuy been smoking?" He leaned forward, his eyes narrowed.
I choked, feeling the beer burn down my windpipe. "Excuse me?"
"He's acting strange," Duo said, leaning back, still suspicious. "You're his partner. I figured you'd know."
"You mean... you don't?" I schooled my expression into something bland, and sipped at my beer. "You've been over there working on that truck for the past four or five nights."
"Exactly," Duo said, with a firm nod. "What the fuck got into his rice? Selling that R19? Was he high? Did he get a head injury on the last mission?"
I pondered saying: actually, more like a heart injury, but let it pass, and went for a different tactic. "He seemed to be enjoying working on it. Didn't you?"
"Hell, yeah, it's an old engine, a challenge, but we had a good time," Duo allowed. He leaned forward to rest his chin on his fist, and watched the crowd milling around the bar. "I always enjoy hanging out with Heero."
I nodded, and let a minute or two pass before moving to step two of my impulsive plan. "Wufei tells me you dumped Mike."
"Yeah, last week." Duo shrugged and took another swallow off his beer. "Guy was just... well, pedestrian."
"No car?"
Duo snorted. "No... just no creativity. Ran the same routine as everyone else." He swirled his beer, then finished it off and waved for another one. "So... Quatre and Wufei not done yet?"
I checked my cell phone again. "Maybe another hour. You waiting for a ride?"
"Yeah. Wufei said he'd find me here." Duo shrugged and leaned back in his chair. "Sucks, a Friday night, and here we are." His expression turned sly. "At least you can go home and get laid."
"And you could head over to Heero's and finish the truck. Didn't you say once that a purring engine is better than a blowjob?"
"Yeah, but what'd be better is if I could get both," Duo said, and leered. The look faded, and he shrugged, lazily waving at the cocktail waitress for another beer. "Not like I'd complain, but." He shrugged again.
I blame my next comment on a long-term friendship with Wufei and Quatre. I, on my own, would never have uttered those words. "So if Heero asked you out... "
"Would you turn him down?" Duo halted, flushed, and gave me an abashed grin. "Well, if no Quatre. I mean, come on, the guy's sex on two legs! If Heero asked me out? Fuck yeah."
Okay. I screwed that bland expression on tight, and sipped my beer. Heero had used the coy but usually effective – well, it worked for me, when getting up the nerve to ask Quatre out – classic trick of the casual 'it's a date.' And apparently it had gone right past Duo's head, or possibly in one ear and out the other without slamming up against any obstacles. They'd make a great couple, I told myself, and snorted quietly. Heero's got a head full of rocks when it comes to wooing and winning, while Duo's blissfully void.
I realized Duo was still talking, and dragged my shocked senses back to attention.
"But we're friends, and that's cool." Duo grinned. "I'm not gonna wreck that, y'know, but if Heero ever gave a sign otherwise. I'd be there, like that!"
He snapped his fingers right as my cell phone rang. I grabbed for it, saved from having to crawl under the table to prevent myself from either laughing hysterically or beating my head against the nearest hard object.
"Barton." I'm pretty sure I shouted into the phone.
Quatre laughed when he heard the sounds of the bar. "You're down on the corner waiting?"
"Yeah," I said, tilting the phone a bit away from Duo to cover my mouth. "And... get here soon. I think we've got a problem."
Duo raised his eyebrows at me, and I smiled tightly. I'd hoped he wouldn't catch my muttered comment, but for any air pockets in his brain when it came to Heero, he had extra acuity for everything else.
"A problem," Quatre said. "Heero-related?"
"Yeah."
"Okay... Wufei's here. We're ready. Could you elaborate?"
I leaned back, trying to look casual. It was becoming the theme of the evening. "Not really. Duo and I are hanging out. Whenever you get here---"
"What's the problem?" Duo leaned forward and poked me in the elbow.
I said the first thing that came into my head. "The chicken's gone bad." Yes, look at me, the professional infiltrator and that's the best code I can come up with. Or cover. Take your pick.
"Chicken," Duo repeated.
"Chicken," Quatre said.
"Right."
"Oh! Your dinner!" Duo brightened. "Well, get Wufei and Quatre down here, we'll grab something at the Afghan place down the street. Hell, I'll call Heero. We can head up to his neighborhood. There's a great Chinese place around the corner from him."
"Quatre," I managed to stutter. "I think the chicken's okay after all."
"Trowa," Quatre said, as slowly as I'd been speaking to Heero the day before. "Have you been sharing drugs with Heero?"
Saturday afternoon when the phone rang, I was lazing about, recovering from the hangover, and contemplating doing laundry. Quatre took one look at the caller ID and waved his arms wildly. I scowled and rolled over on my stomach to slap at the vidphone, tilting it so Quatre wasn't visible in the camera from where he sat on the overstuffed chair by the end table.
"Barton," I said.
Heero's face resolved on the screen, and he looked worried. "I need help," he said, in a soft voice.
"I'm not driving you anywhere," I told him.
"Truck's done," Heero replied, shaking his head. "Just... which do you think?"
The next thing I knew, a shirt was being held up in front of the vidphone camera. It was dark gray – probably originally black – and had faded lettering from some local basketball team. Then it disappeared, to be replaced by an equally tattered green t-shirt with some slogan for a local barbecue place.
"Yuy," I said, trying to remain calm despite Quatre's wide eyes. "Those shirts look like something you'd use to polish your car."
"Actually, I think I did, with one of them," Heero said, lowering the second shirt and staring at it dubiously. "Do you think Duo would prefer potato salad or cole slaw?"
Both, Quatre mouthed, and I sighed. "Both," I told Heero. "You know how he eats."
Heero nodded. "So, black, or green?"
"You're really going to wear one of them?"
Heero glared at me.
"Uh... flip a coin." I looked over to see Quatre digging in his pocket, and producing a quarter. "Scratch that, we'll flip. Heads or tails?"
"Tails for the green," Heero said, and waited, expectantly.
Quatre flipped, studied the coin, and nodded.
"Green," I told Heero.
He looked relieved, and signed off without another word. I stared at the dark screen for several seconds, and rolled over on my back.
"Suddenly," I announced, "I have this compulsion to crawl under something and not come out. Ever."
"I caught some of that," Quatre said, stretching from his chair to poke me in the shoulder with his foot. "Was Heero really asking you which shirt to wear? You're the least fashion conscious of any of us."
"Hey," I grumbled. "They were old, ratty shirts. Falling apart. Holes and all."
"Oh," Quatre said knowingly. "That makes sense. You did wear that turtleneck until it disintegrated. I'd guess he figured you'd be the expert on decrepit clothing."
"Hmph." I closed my eyes, and contemplated taking a nap. "Wake me when either Heero's gotten Duo into bed, or he's given up, self-destructed and the dust has settled."
"Hush," Quatre admonished me. "I'm calling Wufei."
"Of course," I said, and covered my head with the sofa pillow.
Eight o'clock, Saturday night, and I wasn't hot and sweaty while having mad passionate sex. That was disappointment number one. In fact, I wasn't even lazing about with a stuffed stomach after a blissful evening of insanely spicy Indian food, which would be disappointment number two.
No, I was stretched out in front of the television, watching some damn soccer game, with the volume on full blast. I hate watching television on full blast, but it was the only way to drown out a certain blond gossip columnist's voice. The team in the green shirts had just scored a goal, two fights had broken out, and the coach in the yellow was screaming in some language the newscasters wouldn't broadcast when my view was blocked by Quatre. He shut the television off, and held out my shoes.
"What?" I gave him a blank stare. "What's going on?"
"Relena and Wufei will be here in ten minutes," he said, and sailed from the living room.
"I didn't know we were going out again tonight," I hollered, lacing up my boots and standing. "Did you make plans again and not tell me?"
Quatre appeared in the bedroom doorway, pulling on a black shirt. I gaped, and he yanked it over his head with a worried look. "No, this is very last-minute. Wufei went by Heero's place and his truck was gone."
"Uh, Heero is capable of going out on his own," I pointed out. "He's a big boy. Has his own place, pays his own bills---"
"Trowa," Quatre said, in that tone of voice that meant my dry humor was not appreciated. I sighed, and waited to hear the news. Quatre slipped into his boots, not bothering to lace them, and led the way to the door.
"Wait," I said, realizing something. "Wufei lives almost forty minutes from Heero. What was he doing in Heero's neighborhood?"
"He and Relena figured they'd head there, after finding out Duo's out," Quatre said, as if this explained everything.
"Of course," I muttered. "Because our friends need babysitters."
"We don't want bad chicken," Quatre replied, and kissed me quickly. His fast kisses, rapid and deep, always left me a bit weak-kneed, and he looked victoriously smug as he pushed me out the door. "So now we need to make sure they're okay. If one or both hasn't wised up and made a move, we're going to have to take matters into our own hands."
"Do I have to be involved?" I tried bracing myself, but Quatre had twenty pounds of muscle compared to my lean frame, and he easily shoved me down the hallway. "I mean, they're adults now---"
"Winner! Barton!" Wufei barked from the lobby of the apartment as we came around the corner. "We've narrowed it down to five locations, based on Yuy's and Maxwell's favorite pastimes."
Relena was next to him, in her going-incognito-costume of dark glasses and baseball cap, but with the curious addition of a set of opera glasses hanging from a cord around her neck. She waved a sheet of paper, and bounced in place. Wufei scowled, and she settled down with a dignified air.
"We've compared the list to a map, and determined the most efficient means of checking all locations within a reasonable time period," she informed us. She lowered the paper, and pulled her glasses down her nose to fix me with a stern blue-eyed stare. "Unless, of course, someone has additional information to which we've not been privy."
I realized everyone was looking at me. I attempted to look cool, and shrugged.
Wufei crossed his arms.
I didn't back down.
Quatre narrowed his eyes.
"Drive-in," I croaked.
"Ah," Relena said, and pulled out a pocket computer. She punched in a series of buttons, and crowed with delight. "Yes! There's one about an hour from here. And... hey, check that out, it's showing that horror movie you've been wanting to see, Wufei."
"The one with the lobsters that take over L2?" Wufei leaned over Relena's shoulder to see the screen's readout. "That started a half-hour ago."
"We can see the midnight showing," Relena assured him. She tucked the computer away, pushed up her glasses, and waved to Quatre. "You can drive."
Oh, great, I thought, trailing along behind them. Now I'm going to have to listen to those two sucking face in the back seat while I'm trapped pondering the multiple ways Heero is going to kill me if he ever finds out I assisted the terrible threesome in tracking his wooing ass down.
We got to the drive-in, paid our fare – ignoring Relena's and Quatre's spirited discussion about whether we could save money by shoving me into the trunk when going through the toll – and parked near the back. Everyone piled out, and I was dragged along despite my insistence that someone should watch the car.
"Look, if Heero's brought Duo here," I started to say, but Quatre cut me off.
"They're both clueless," he replied evenly, while helping Relena shove her blonde hair down the back of her dark blue shirt. "Duo doesn't realize what Heero's doing, and Heero doesn't know enough to know how to ask."
"And we should be aware of all details," Wufei added sagely, "so we can be prepared to pick up the pieces should Heero's mission go badly."
"It's not a mission," I protested.
"Shush," Relena hissed, and proceeded to climb up on top of Quatre's car. She raised the opera glasses, and scoped out the parking lot.
"Oh, that's real stealthy," I muttered, and got smacked on the shoulder by Quatre.
"Three trucks, at two o'clock," Relena announced. "Third row and fifth row. And two trucks, at nine o'clock, first row and second row."
"We'll take the first set," Quatre said. "Set your cell phones on vibrate."
"Roger," Relena replied, as Wufei helped her down from the car. Wufei nodded, displaying his phone was set on silent as well. I dutifully switched my phone over, and followed Quatre between the rows of cars.
"This isn't necessary," I whispered, startled when he spun me around, pushed me up against a speaker post, and ground his hips against me. "Oh," I gasped, angling for a deep kiss. When he let me go, he grinned, and trotted off into the darkness. "Oh, well, okay," I said to no one in particular, and did my best to keep up in hopes of a repeat performance.
We'd surreptitiously checked out the first two trucks and were sneaking our way towards the third when Quatre grabbed at his hip.
"Wufei," he told me, and answered the phone. "Yeah? Oh... really? Oh, shit... " Quatre's mouth fell open, and he gave me a startled look. "You're fucking kidding me. No way... "
"What?" I reached for the phone, somewhere between annoyed and worried. If Duo had belted Heero, or they'd argued, or Heero had chickened out – any of a hundred bad scenarios ran through my sex-fuddled brain. Quatre had been leading me through most of the packed lot with random encouragements and I was lucky I could walk straight, let alone articulate a question about something that didn't involve being horizontal with Quatre's head in my lap.
"We'll be right there!" Quatre swatted my hand away and hung up the phone. "Found them," he told me, and groped my crotch for good measure. "Come on!"
I'm sure I had my tongue out of my mouth by that point, but I managed to keep up. Five minutes later we were under the overhang of one of the snack booths, and Relena was handing Quatre the opera glasses.
"Blue truck, with the rust proofing patch on the quarter-panel," she instructed. Quatre focused the glasses, and gasped. Relena grinned. "See!"
"What?" I scowled, then was handed the glasses. Raising them, I studied the darkened parking lot, lit up by the red glow of lobsters rampaging through a miniature version of the downtown L2 shopping district. There, in the front row, was Heero's truck, with the license plate from his sports car – YUY 01. I lowered the glasses, confused. "I don't see anyone in the truck."
Quatre elbowed me. "Look again."
Frowning, I raised the glasses and took a more careful look. The windows appeared to be fogged up. I nearly dropped the glasses when someone's hand slapped up against the glass, followed by a second hand, and then what appeared to be the back of someone's head.
"Oh, well, uh... " I lowered the opera glasses, only to have Wufei snatch them from me. I blinked a few times, and Quatre sidled up close to nibble on my neck. It only somewhat alleviated the shocked feeling of seeing my partner and one of my best friends making out in a beat-up old truck at a drive-in. I felt like a peeping tom. "Uh... "
"Ah," Wufei said, in a pleased, quiet tone. "Mission accomplished, team."
"Excellent," Relena whispered, then looked at us. "So. Did you want to stay for the midnight showing?"
We got home at two a.m., and I staggered through the door, kicking my boots off by the door.
"If I'd had any clue," I grumbled, "I would've taken a nap instead of cleaning the kitchen."
"You're getting old," Quatre murmured, coming up behind me and slipping a hand in my jeans.
"And you're getting predictable," I replied, but made sure to lean back so he'd have better access.
The phone rang.
"Fuck," I said, "let the machine get it."
"What if it's an emergency?" Quatre removed his hand, and pushed me towards the kitchen. "We should answer it."
"And that always means me?" I rolled my eyes, but headed into the kitchen, where I answered the vidphone without turning on the lights. "Barton," I said, "and this had better be an issue of life or death."
"Close," Heero whispered.
I blinked. "What? What's wrong?"
"I... " Heero leaned in to the camera, and held up two little packets. "Duo's in the shower, but I... which should I use?"
"Which what?" I squinted at the vidphone screen. "What are you talking about? Did you make any---"
"Yes, yes, progress," Heero muttered, looking nervously over his shoulder. "But I got one of each, and now I'm not---"
"This is not the time for the birds and bees," I told him sternly. "If you---"
"What do animals have to do with this?" Heero glared at me. "Ribbed, studded, or plain?"
I blinked, backed up, stared at the little squares in his hand, and sighed. "Try all of them and compare," I snapped, and shut off the phone right as Heero gave me a pleased smile.
Quatre leaned into the kitchen. "What was that about?"
"Nothing," I told him. "You are dangerous enough already. The last thing you need is more ammunition."
"Someone's gotta have it," he responded philosophically, and dashed from the kitchen. His voice floated down the hall, teasing me as he stripped off his clothes on the way to the bedroom. "That way there's backup when you run out."
Monday morning I was braced for impact. Heero's truck was running, so he'd sent an email saying he'd see me at the coffee shop. To my surprise, Duo was with him... and they were holding hands. Heero had the oddest expression, like he was unbelievably proud of himself, while Duo just looked rather shell-shocked.
"Hey," I said, sliding into a seat opposite them, clutching my starter dose of espresso. "So." I eyed the hands clasped together – on top of the table, not under – and didn't miss the fact that Heero was eyeing nearly every man in the place with an annoyed but smug expression.
"Hey," Duo said, and smiled nervously. He glanced at Heero, melted a little, and gave me a beatific smile. "So."
Heero turned, frowning at both of us.
"I need another ten minutes," I told Heero, pointing to my coffee. He snorted, and glanced at Duo, who shrugged.
"Don't bother," Duo said. "No coffee's going to cure me."
I grinned into my drink, and after a few minutes, we seemed to mutually decide it was time to head into headquarters and begin the day. Duo and Heero didn't let go of each other's hand until the elevator door opened on Duo's floor, and even then there seemed to be a bit of a tug of war until they finally released each other.
Heero had a tiny little smile on his lips, watching Duo walk backwards down the hallway, and the smile remained even after the elevator doors closed.
"I see things went well," I finally observed, as the doors opened on our floor and we walked the long hallway past the floor's receptionist to our office in the corner.
"Quite," Heero announced. "He liked the flowers, he thought the shirt was cool, and he pretty much inhaled the picnic."
"But didn't see much of the movie?"
Heero fixed me with a stare.
I froze. I remembered the snake charmer move the receptionist made, and did my best imitation of her flinch. Heero narrowed his eyes, and I repeated the motion. He tensed, and I backed up a step. He brought up a hand like he was reaching for his gun, and I sank down, going for the 'submissive non-target' appearance. I could feel the score ticking away in my head: seventeen-six, seventeen-seven...
He stopped at seventeen to thirteen, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
"Boy, Barton," Heero said, and grinned widely. "You're cute when you're worried I'll waste you. Not as cute as Duo," he added, contemplatively, "but still cute."
"Ah." I blinked, and collapsed into my chair. "Thanks. I think."
"Sure thing." Heero hummed for a few minutes, starting up his computer, then he looked over at me, but said nothing. His wild grin was gone, replaced by a sincere, sweet smile I'd rarely seen on him, even over our years of friendship.
I knew what he meant, and I didn't say anything either, but smiled in return. And decided then and there that I'd never again tell Yuy he was pathetic at anything. Because obviously he wasn't; when it came to love, he just did all the wrong things, down to monster trucks and roadside weeds.
Fortunately for Heero, all his wrong things... were all the right things for Duo.
The End
(:./sol/monster3)
