March 14, 2001
Title: Crossed Wires
Author: AstroKender
Pairings: 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.
Fifteen minutes later Trowa was pounding on the door irritably. "Time's up, Duo! Get the hell out of there!"
"Give me another minute!" Came the muffled reply.
Trowa jiggled the handle. "I've already given you two! Now come out here right now!"
"Fine!"
The door flew open and out stalked a very wet, and very naked, Duo. His braid hung over his shoulder in a sopping mess and his cuffed hands carefully held a bunched up towel over his lower regions. He stopped in the middle of the room, water pooling into the carpet under his feet.
"Do you know how hard it is to shower in handcuffs? Let alone dry yourself? I couldn't even get the towel wrapped around me!"
Getting an eyeful of the American's bare cheeks, Trowa smirked. "So I see..." A laugh began to bubble up Trowa's throat and he shoved it down desperately.
Duo whirled around, his face red. "Stop looking at my-" Cobalt eyes widened as he noticed Trowa's shaking shoulders. "You're-you're laughing!"
"No...I'm not..." Trowa held his sides carefully; sure they would split from suppressed mirth.
Duo turned an even brighter shade of crimson, and then unable to help himself, joined the taller boy's laughter. For the first time since they'd been assigned to the mission, the two boys felt the tension between them ease.
Getting himself under control, Trowa walked over to the bed. "I had to throw your clothes away, they were little more than rags. But I found these for you." He gestured to the bundle he brought in earlier.
"Umm..." Duo looked from his cuffed hands to the bundle of clothes.
Hesitating only slightly, the Latin boy removed a key from his pocket. He walked over to the still-dripping boy. "All right. Raise your arms."
Duo bit his lip nervously. Raising his hands meant dropping the towel that was the only thing protecting his last bit of dignity. Muttering softly to himself, he allowed the white cloth to drop and raised his shacked wrists. Face burning, he glanced up into Trowa's face only to note that the Latin boy's eyes did not leave his own. The cuffs fell to the ground with a dull clank.
"Thanks." Duo swiftly climbed into the gray hooded sweatshirt and drawstring pants, both three sizes too big. He fingered the OZ embroider bemusedly. "Ah, irony."
Trowa smirked and reached down to retrieve the wrist cuffs once more. "I'm going to go and get something for you to eat."
Duo flopped down on the bed, intent on wringing out his braid. "Yeah, my last meal kinda got interrupted, huh?"
"I have to chain you back to the bed now."
The American sighed. "When are you going to realize that I'm not going to do anything to screw up this mission? I swear I'm not going to go anywhere, just lay off the cuffs for awhile." Duo rubbed his raw wrists tenderly.
Trowa stared at him, indecisive.
"Look! You can lock the freaking door!" He said in exasperation.
"Like that could really stop you." Trowa muttered. But nonetheless, he sat the restraints on the desk.
"I'll be back soon. Try to get some rest." He tossed the boy a small box. "And bandage your cheek before it gets infected."
Duo smiled softly. "Thanks Trowa."
Trowa didn't reply until he had reached the door. "I think I was more comfortable when we were at each other's throats. It's easier to hate you than not." With that comment, he swiftly slipped out the door.
"I know what you mean." Duo whispered to the empty room.
He looked around idly. Trowa's quarters were small but immaculately kept. Clean and bare of any mark of individuality. There wasn't so much as a favorite book set out to tell Duo more about his silent partner.
Silently rising off the bed, Duo snooped through the dresser. Clothes, manuals, gun oil; this guy was duller than Heero. Fingering the soft material of a spare OZ uniform, Duo's hand brushed against something hard.
"What the-?" Pulling the object out, Duo stared at it curiously.
It was a ceramic clown mask, well, half of one anyway. Duo caressed the smooth surface. What was Trowa doing with this? Walking back over to the bed, he sat down, still staring at the cheerfully painted face.
"I guess we all have our masks..." He said to himself. "But this looks more like the mask I wear." Trembling fingers slowly lifted the mask to his face. He glanced at the mirror across the room.
Duo shuddered and looked away quickly, disturbed by what he saw. A cold-hearted killer under a cheerful grin...the mask slipped from nerveless fingers to fall to the floor, where it shattered in two.
"Shit!" Duo gasped. "Trowa's gonna kill me."
He swiftly bent down to grab the broken pieces but in his haste he gripped the broken edge, cutting his hand. He stared numbly at the blood dripping down the cold ceramic surface.
"Now the mask is as tainted at I am..." He shook himself of his morbid thoughts as a voice stammered nervously over the intercom.
"Lieutenant Barton, Sir!" Duo recognized the voice of Private Johnson. "I- Lieutenant Trant cornered me and demanded that I tell him where the prisoner was relocated. I couldn't disobey a direct order so I-I'm afraid he'll be there any minute. I'm sorry Sir!"
"Why am I thinking this is not a good thing?" Duo moaned. The braided boy rose up just as the tall form of Trant stormed into the room.
"Umm...Hi!" The American waved weakly.
Trowa walked briskly down the hall, a small tray in his hands. The Latin boy was anxious to get back to his room and to Duo. That thought startled him and he halted mid stride. Why was he so eager to spend more time with that American? They could barely stand each other. Why did he feel so nervous when Duo wasn't near? Trowa shook his head, a small frown appearing on his face.
"Lieutenant Barton!" A voice called from behind him. Turning, Trowa stared at the flushed face of Private Jeremy Johnson.
"Yes?"
"Did-did Lieutenant Trant take the prisoner?"
Emerald eyes flashed in puzzlement. "What are you talking about?" The hands holding the tray of food clenched reflexively.
Jeremy paled. "You mean-you weren't in the room when I called?"
"What call?" Trowa's eyes narrowed. "I've been in the mess hall. Tell me what is going on."
"Trant-I mean, the Lieutenant, was headed to your quarters. I'm not sure what he wanted, only that it involved the Gundam pilot."
Trowa was careful to make sure his face remained expressionless. "I see...Well then, Private, would you please follow me?"
Jeremy saluted. "Yes sir!"
The auburn-haired boy forced himself to walk sedately towards his quarters even though his instinct was to run. Jeremy easily kept in stride with him and even glanced over a few times questioningly, as if wondering why the Latin boy wasn't moving any faster.
They reached his room with in minutes, but for Trowa it seemed more like hours. He stood outside the door and listened intently, trying to gauge their situation. He immediately picked out Duo's irate voice.
"OW! Damn it! Do you have to be so rough? I thought you said you needed me for something! I ain't gonna be much use if you keep manhandling me like this. Ouch! Shit! Not so tight!"
Trowa barged in the room, Jeremy trailing anxiously behind. Furious green eyes took in the scene before him. Duo was being pressed face down into the mattress, as Lieutenant Trant viscously grabbed the boy's arms and shackling the behind his back.
"What is the meaning of this?" Trowa snarled.
Trant looked up from his position on top of the braided boy. "You! You've got a lot of nerve Barton." He raised a dark eyebrow as he took in the Latin boy's bruised cheek. "What happened? This little bitch," He punctuated the word by shoving Duo deeper into the mattress. "Wasn't willing to warm your bed?"
Trowa started to reach for his gun but stopped himself. He mustn't compromise the mission. Duo had to get DeathScythe. The American struggled against the man's grip. "This 'little bitch' is about ready to tear off your balls and shove them down your fucking throat!"
Trant rose off the bed, dragging the cursing boy with him. "You're coming with me. Now shut up before I gag you." He looked down at Trowa. "I could have you court-martialed for this."
"It's not what it seems to be." Trowa stated quietly.
"Oh really?" Trant sneered. "What I see is that you have an unbound Gundam pilot in your room on your bed in OZ clothing! I'm taking custody of the prisoner and you are hereby confined to your quarters until Lady Une returns."
The Latin boy said nothing and continued to stare at Duo. Green eyes seemed to ask him a question. Do you want to escape? I won't stop you. Cobalt eyes flashed in apology. No. I'll be alright.
"Private, I want you to remain here and guard Barton's quarters; make sure he doesn't leave."
Jeremy's brown eyes widened. "Y-yes sir." He hesitantly pulled out his gun and aimed it for the Latin boy's chest. "I think you should go sit down sir."
Trowa raised his hands in surrender. Trant tossed him a smug glance, then shoved his prisoner out of the room. The door hissed shut behind him. Private Johnson wearily lowered his gun.
"They are going to use him to test the ZERO System. I heard some of the other officers talking about it, but I wasn't sure." He glanced at Trowa. "But now I'm positive."
Trowa carefully lowered his arms. "What is the ZERO system?"
"I don't know. All I can tell you is that three Privates were given a special assignment. They were forbidden to say anything about it but in their eagerness they did let it slip that it had something to do with the ZERO system. Then they disappeared. That was over a month ago."
"You think someone silenced them?"
Jeremy shook his head. "I think there is something strange about that system. I think it did something to them." He raised his head, looking defiantly into Trowa's eyes. "That's why we've got to get your friend away from Trant."
The Latin boy's eyes widened. "F-friend? What are you talking about?"
"You're one of them aren't you?" Jeremy looked steadily at the floor. "I could tell as soon as we captured him."
Trowa swallowed nervously. "One of what?"
"A Gundam Pilot."
End Part Six
(:./astrokender/crossed6)
