1998
All characters of Gundam Wing belong to Sunrise and other legal copyright owners.
This fic is just something I did to use up the time I don't have. No money is being made off this enterprise, so please don't sue this pathetic fic writer who can't even decide which tenses to use.
I don't have any money worth suing anyway.
Grateful thanks go to QuatreWinner for helping me proofread and edit this part of the fic. If there are any mistakes still, it's all my fault. I'm such a lazy bum.
All comments, criticisms, flames (in moderate amounts, ja!) and whatever else you might want to say may be hurled via e-mail at: shirini@pc.jaring.my
Heero stood in the doorway of the adjoining bathroom , lightly leaning his frame against the jamb. His hand reflexively went to swipe at a dripping lock of dark hair that fell across his eyes, sweeping it away from his face as he pondered the figure on the bed.
Duo.
Unbidden, a sigh escaped the throat of the Japanese pilot, and almost immediately, his shoulders seemed to slump as though in defeat. Heero walked across the room silently, not wishing to disturb his roommate's sleep. Absent-mindedly, he tugged off the towel around his hips and resumed to towel himself dry. As he did so, his eyes once more returned to the American pilot sleeping on one of the two beds in the dimly lit room. Duo was lying on his back, one arm flung up and over his face, as though covering his eyes from what little light bathed the room at the moment. His mouth was slightly opened in sleep. Soft sounds of slumber accompanied each exhalation. For the first time this week, Heero observed, Duo actually looked at peace.
Every night for the past week since Heero had returned from a reconnaissance mission with Wufei, the chestnut-haired pilot had been plagued by dreams from which he had awoken drenched in sweat, shaking with an unspoken fear. The sleepless nights had begun to take its toll on Duo. Dark circles had begun to form under his eyes, eyes that seemed to have lost the laughter that had always been associated with the long-haired pilot. He still smiled and laughed and joked around as was his wont, but Heero knew that something was amiss. The smiles were genuine but behind them was an unspoken, wistful sadness; the laughter was gay but uncharacteristically over-loud, with a tinge of tears and madness glazing its edges; the jokes , before flung with abandon, were now controlled and dripped with cynicism, of which were often aimed at himself.
With their other friends, Duo was Duo, warm and bubbly, chattering incessantly. But within the confines of their room, Heero was surprised at the sudden shift in personality. His friend was often silent, morose even. Once he had caught Duo looking at him and he had been shocked at the look in those eyes, a look that he had thought he would never see in eyes other than his own: an empty, haunted look, a look that had combined both longing and loathing in the same instant. He remembered again how Duo had flinched under his touch when he had tried to awaken the tossing boy from a particularly bad episode. Although he had schooled his heart into a stony fort of callousness, Heero could not help feeling a little hurt at the wild, feral look that shone through his friend's eyes then. Even though it was fleeting and Duo had mumbled something that had sounded like an apology before falling back to bed, Heero had wondered at the absolute turnaround in his friend's behaviour.
Before, Duo had seemed to enjoy his presence and had seemed to find all kinds of excuses to touch him, to be touched by him, to constantly plague him with his chatter. Heero had realized this obvious attention-seeking strategy of his roommate and, at times, had even welcomed it. However, he had found it hard to acknowledge these strange feelings, that he may have felt the slightest hint of attraction for this slender long-haired pilot who shared his room. It was hard to accept that sometimes, he wished that they could share more than just a room...It had gotten to a point in which he had just felt like surrendering to his inner desires; in which he felt like just walking up to Duo and dragging him into bed to claim him for his own.
At this thought, Heero smiled. If Duo's past indications had been anything to go by, his actions would have been justified and probably even welcomed.
But that was before...
Heero scowled as he continued to ponder Duo's perplexing change of attitude and his own feelings toward the long-haired boy.
Heero had been meticulously trained to be the perfect soldier. Passing notions of fanciful attraction could never tempt him, Heero Yuy. More so when it would involve his comrade, his teammate, one he would have to work with and entrust his life.
His life was expendable. His heart was not.
Still, deep inside, Heero knew that he was fighting a losing battle, that the cold, frozen block of ice that had passed off as his heart was slowly, but surely melting. Over the weeks that they had begun sharing rooms, Duo had been constantly on his thoughts. The little innuendos dropped by the American constantly tugged at his thoughts, driving him to distraction. Despite his constant threats to kill the braided pilot, an innocent wide-eyed grin on that cheeky face had been enough to wipe out any possible physical follow-ups to his oft-repeated exclamations. Earlier, he had considered requesting a single room but the only available one then had been taken by Wufei. By the time such a room had become available, Heero had succumbed to Duo's inexplicable magic and the thought of moving out was long gone from his mind.
Still, keeping his confusing feelings in check had been a twenty-four-hour task.
How he wanted him, needed him! But why was it so* damn* difficult to say it?
Ironically, although Heero knew that Duo felt the same way toward him, Heero could not bring himself to admit that there was a chink in his emotional armor, a flaw in his portrayal of a perfect killing machine. He could not admit that there was now a weakness in his life.
A living, breathing, walking weakness with a long, brown braid.
He had welcomed the mission that had required only Wufei and himself, hoping that the time away from Duo would help him sort out the strange feelings that haunted his every waking moment alone. He had expected it when Duo had greeted the news with disappointment, even to the extent of offering to take over Wufei's duties, much to the Chinese pilot's chagrin. Wufei had been incensed at the thought, considering it a personal affront to his abilities and reputation. His chastening of Duo's bold suggestion had taken a whole fifteen minutes, with the American pilot clapping his hands over his ears for most of the tongue-lashing. While Heero was surprised that he had actually felt flattered by Duo's reaction, he was even more surprised by the fact that he had actually wished at the time that it *had* been Duo, not Wufei, who would be going on the mission with him.
A sudden shifting of the body on the bed brought Heero's head up, snapping him out of his thoughts. A slight frown creased his smooth brow. Upon seeing that Duo had once again settled, the frown disappeared. His concern for his friend's condition had earlier prompted him to resort to underhanded tactics.
"Here, take these." Duo's head snapped up from the reports he had been skimming, eyes resting upon Heero's stern face. In his hand the other boy held out two pink pellets.
"Why? What is it?" he asked, putting up his palm to catch the caplets that Heero had passed to him.
"Just some tranquilizers. To help you sleep," he answered quietly.
Duo screwed up his face, peering at the ovoid tablets, rolling them around in his palm. "Sleeping pills?" He hated the way sleeping pills fuzzed up his brain and messed up his thinking. He had taken them once before but their nauseating after effects had made him swear to never take them again. And now, two were staring him in the face, given to him by the one person he could never refuse.
"I don't think I...."
"You haven't been sleeping well and it's going to affect your performance sooner or later," Heero cut in coldly, placing a tumbler of water on the table. "I'm not going to have your insomnia interfere with any upcoming missions, or risk your nodding off in the middle of one."
"Heh! Heero, you know I wouldn't do that. Besides, these things make me sick!"
"Fine. Then I'll save you the trouble of blowing me up on our next mission," Heero turned away, moving toward the door. "I'll just go and self-destruct."
"Heero! Wait! Oh shit!"
Heero smiled slightly at Duo's muttered curse. That particular threat always*did*work better than threatening to kill him. He turned to see the brown-haired pilot gulping down the tranquilizers, grimacing at the slightly bitter aftertaste.
"Wek! There! Are you happy now, you creep?" Duo gagged at Heero in exasperation. Heero shrugged, and resumed his exit.
As he left, he could hear Duo's loud sigh as the youth went back to his work.
When Heero had returned to the room an hour later, he found Duo slumped over the desk, amidst loose sheets of technical reports. The tranquilizers had taken effect and the boy was dead to the world. Heero grunted as he lifted his friend to place him in the more comfortable confines of his bed. Duo was heavier than he looked, Heero thought.
Must be the hair.
He pulled off the other's boots and placed them by the foot of the bed. Next he unbuttoned the black shirt that was his friend's favorite outfit, tugging it off with difficulty while manouvering his friend's limp limbs into cooperating. Heero left the white undershirt on, pulling it down where it had been pulled up when he had removed the black shirt. His gaze fell upon the bruises on his friend's torso, and he wondered where Duo had gotten them. Heero fought the sudden desire that rose up within him, the desire to touch those fascinating patches of discolored skin, to feel the textures there and compare them with the rest of the flesh before him. Heero shook his head, pushing away unbidden images that made his blood rush to his head, making him slightly light-headed. He continued undressing his friend, undoing the fastenings of his pants and pulling them down Duo's legs. He smiled when he saw Duo's boxers, white ones liberally scattered with tiny yellow, smiley faces. Always the joker, he thought. Even down to his underwear. But Heero's smile disappeared when he noticed more bruises on his friend's legs.
Whatever had happened to his friend since he'd been gone?
"He's been WHAT ?!?"
Duo and Trowa stared incredulously at the pretty girl who had met them at the door. The boys had decided to accept Quatre's offer of spending a week in between missions at his home. He had left for his estate earlier to prepare for his guests' arrival. Trowa had seemed more than eager, Duo noted, while he himself had agreed for want of anything better to do. Heero had gone off on a reconnaissance run with Wufei and would probably be gone for the whole week. That had left him with no one to torment, and no one to torment *him*. Even Wufei, the perfect foil for his practical jokes would not be around. Spending a week on Quatre's estates had seemed like a nice way to spend a holiday, he thought.
Until now.
"Yes," the girl wailed, twisting her hands. "He's been kidnapped!"
The girl, who was one of Quatre's many sisters, ushered them into the den where several other women sat, all with identical expressions of worry on their faces. The boys knew that these were just more of their friend's siblings but they had long given up on trying to remember their names. There were just *too* many of them! Even Quatre himself had once admitted to Trowa that he, the solitary male heir, had sometimes mixed them up.
A manservant offered them drinks as they made themselves comfortable on the huge sofa. One of the older women stood up and walked toward them. She smiled, her eyes reflecting the genuine gladness at meeting them, even in these trying circumstances. She introduced herself as Jelana, the sixth eldest among Quatre's sisters, and the eldest one around at the time.
"How did it happen? Do you know who did it?" Trowa finally asked the question that had played on Duo's lips. There was a slight catch in the voice of the usually reserved pilot of Gundam Heavyarms. One that Duo noticed immediately, confirming what he had suspected for a long time. That the quiet Frenchman beside him harbored more than feelings of friendship for the young Arabian pilot.
Something like what I feel for a certain Japanese idiot, Duo sighed wistfully. He just hoped that he had not been as obvious.
"We just knew of it this afternoon," Jelana said. "He had gone for his customary morning ride and had managed to give his retainers the slip. That boy...," Jelana let out an exasperated sigh. She looked up at them, suddenly remembering that she was talking to her guests. "I'm sorry. It's just...a game he plays. Everytime, he would try to escape from his bodyguards. Sometimes he succeeds but he usually doesn't. He only does this within the estate so we never had much reason to condone his behaviour. After all, there is so little that he asks for amusement, to make him forget the war..." Again the girl's voice tapered into silence as the two boys began to fidget uncomfortably on the sofa.
The shrill trilling of the telephone broke the tense silence, making the two boys jump in surprise. Jelana literally did, rising to her feet and walking across the room toward the telephone in one fluid motion. Grace runs in the family, Duo smirked.
"Winner Residence," she answered, her voice calm, giving no indication to the worry that she shared with the others in the room. Trowa and Duo watched as she spoke, noting her pale face and pinched expression as she gave little nods and affirmations over the telephone. Finally she put down the receiver, sighing as she flopped bonelessly into a nearby chair.
"We still don't know who they are, but they want the ransom payment tonight. As can be expected, they don't want the authorities involved. They will only release him when they're sure of their own safety. They promise that he would not be harmed." A sob escaped her throat as she looked around the room. "But I don't trust them."
At the mention of ransom, the two boys breathed out a sigh of relief. The same fear had gripped their hearts the moment they heard of Quatre's kidnapping --- that the OZ operatives had been responsible. But the OZ would never have bothered with monetary ransom. They would have wanted something far more valuable, like the technical plans of the Gundams or they would have just kept the Sandrock pilot for interrogation, without wanting any ransom payments.
Duo jumped to his feet, his wild grin plastered across his face.
"We'll get him back for you," he volunteered, earning a quizzical look from Trowa.
"And how do you plan on doing that, Duo?" he asked, raising an eyebrow that was effectively hidden by the bangs that fell over his eye.
The American pilot just grinned at him.
End Part One
Shirin
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