Disclaimer: Gundam Wing, shockingly, horrifyingly, belongs to someone else.

I ended up killing some time by dusting the house and sweeping the floor. Heero and I kept the house in good enough shape as it was, but dust was fucking evil and it liked to reproduce like hell – which was my personal opinion as to why dust balls were referred to as dust bunnies.

More, it let me waste about an hour or so of time.

Then it was simply a matter of sitting and doing absolutely fucking nothing. I was starting to get fidgety; I wanted to just confront him and get it over with before my cowardice caught up with me and stopped me.

I ended up playing around with the television, not really watching anything, just flipping through the channels. I finally stopped it on one of those real-life murder mystery shows and started doing my muscle-building exercises.

It was about a half an hour in that I got the uh-oh feeling. I didn't falter in my exercises, but I turned my body on hyper-alert. Someone was outside.

They were only making a slight amount of noise, noise that could be taken as normal if I hadn't undertaken the training from hell. Instead I could tell that instead of leaves rustling, those were footsteps. Instead of the wind, I could tell that a hand had been placed on the house.

I felt kind of stupid when the doorbell rang.

I stopped my exercises and went to the door, rolling my shoulders. My body was still humming on aftereffects as I twisted the knob and pulled the door open.

My body tensed again. There was nobody there.

Instead I had a pretty little bag with a pretty little note on it. I didn't even touch the thing. Left it there and closed the door.

Then I leaned my back against the door and closed my eyes and told myself I was being ridiculous. So I got a turd from a neighborhood kid. What the hell was so scary about that? I was still so fucking twitchy after hearing the kid creeping around that I seriously was about ready to jump the poor sucker. What the fuck?

But then... why the hell was there a note?

“Maybe the kid left another insult,” I told myself, trying to calm down. Things had been hectic enough these days; I didn't need any more problems. And maybe all the stress from all the action was making me hyper-sensitive to anything that could be considered danger. I just needed to relax. It was absolutely ridiculous for an ex-Gundam pilot to be afraid of dog shit.

I took a deep breath and opened the door again. There was still no one there. Had I heard someone run away? I hadn't paid too much attention... so I should go on the assumption that the brat was still around.

I had no idea why that thought put me on full alert.

The bag sat, one hundred percent unassumingly, on the porch steps. It couldn't be anything bad; it was a tiny fucking lunch bag. Brown. Boring. And a little white note, stark against the paper. Completely normal.

I had to take another deep breath before I could get my ass to move forward.

Absolutely nothing happened. I would have actually preferred some bad guy to pop out. Maybe a masked man with a sawed-off shotgun or something. But there was absolutely nothing, so I just picked up the bag and brought it inside and quickly shut the door.

I was almost excited for a split second. I'd never been in a community before coming to live with Heero, and it was kind of cool to have community shit happening around me, even if it was literally shit. But then alarm bells went off in my head.

This did not smell like shit. It was not shit.

I almost threw the fucking thing out the window before I calmed myself down. Whatever was inside there, I knew it wasn't a bomb or a grenade or any sort of weapon. I'd been trained to recognize the weight and feel of such things, and this didn't feel like any of the sort. It wasn't even hard, and it leaked. So exactly what the fuck was it?

I figured the safest thing would be to read the note first. Maybe it wasn't something to worry about. Then again, it probably was.

The little white sheet was a small square thing, something like a notepad piece of paper. I stared at it in my hand, flipped it over. There was definitely writing in it, a small chicken-scratch script. I folded it open and read it, my mouth gaping further and further open as I did.

You don't know me yet, but I am certain we will get to know one another much better very soon. I know you are tired of being with him, that you need to be free. I will save you. Count the days.

My first thought was that this was supposed to be for someone else. It seemed so absolutely ridiculous that I double-checked the back to see if there was something I missed. But no, there was nothing else written. I cocked an eyebrow and turned to the bag. A stalker? I had a stalker? It almost made me laugh. A fucking stalker. No way. What a trip.

There was no way in hell I could take that seriously.

I shook the bag and bit my lip hard to keep from chuckling. It sounded mushy, kind of like shit. And it was definitely leaking. I took it out to the kitchen before it completely soaked the carpet. Then I put the thing in the sink and opened it.

“Fucking shit!”

I backed away from the thing like it was a lethal virus, shaking my hands in the air as if I could get the feeling off my hands, even though I had yet to touch it. That... that was most definitely a heart. Most likely of a cat or small dog.

“Fuck.”

Not a good thing. That was definitely not something to laugh at. And even though the thought of someone stalking me and trying to kidnap me were still pretty fucking hilarious, the idea that he would kill an animal and hand me its heart was twisted and sick.

I spent a few minutes throwing the things straight into a grocery bag and tossing it into the garbage can outside. Then I went about cleaning the carpet, which had turned a light pink, and scrubbed like a madman for several minutes. Apparently blood stains like wine. Gotta remember that.

Then I washed my hands and took care to get the blood out from under my fingernails. I was just about to go outside and check around for the little fucker when I heard the door being opened.

I turned to the sound, sink newly turned off, and stared at Heero, coming in through the front door. My first instinct was to scream 'cover!' But I swallowed it back. It was just some loser with far too much time on his hands and most definitely far too many screws loose. I could easily deal with it myself.

“Hey, Heero!”

“Hi.” He smiled at me and dropped his briefcase. “How are things? Huh? Why's the carpet wet?”

I opened my mouth to lie but stopped myself short. If I lied, I would break the oath he and I had just made. I sighed. “I got a weird gift from some secret admirer. I already threw it out.”

“Gift? Secret admirer?”

You know, somehow him repeating the word gift made me realize that it was actually the first time I could remember someone giving me something without expecting something in return. But that wasn't quite right, was it? Because I was fairly certain whoever this was wanted something, and they wanted it bad.

“Duo, what are you talking about?”

I escaped my mental musings to find Heero shrugging out of his Preventors jacket, his eyes still focused solely on me. “Ah, don't worry about it. I'll tell you in a second.” Then I girded my loins and straightened my back and sucked in a sharp bit of air. I had to do this – I had to ask. I couldn't search behind his back anymore; it felt wrong. Sick, somehow. “Heero, why didn't you contact me?”

He blinked. “What?”

“You contacted Headquarters but didn't contact me? Why? Hell – and why didn't you tell us you'd contacted someone in Preventors to begin with? I don't understand. It's not like you. So why?”

“Duo?” Heero walked up to me rather slowly, simply dropping his coat on the back of the chair. “What are you talking about?”

I wanted to scream. “Duo, we got a file on Caribol's boss detailing his physical description, and it was weeks earlier than the end of our battle with the damn company. We know someone got in touch with Preventors and gave them the information...” I dwindled out right there, my eyes widening. Oh shit.

“Duo?”

“It... wasn't... you?” I staggered back a bit. “But then who?”

Heero shook his head. “From what you told me, I understand that there was information available that shouldn't have been?”

I nodded mutely.

“Duo, I didn't try to contact Headquarters. I've berated myself for that exact piece of negligence for a very long time.”

“I believe you.”

My response was automatic, words that fell out before I even thought about them. It seemed to stop Heero cold. “Duo?”

It was belatedly that I realized just how oddly vehement the words had been. “Uh, that is, it just didn't make sense that you wouldn't get in touch with us. But then how did the information get into Preventors' database? It leads to you, too – to your console. I don't think Une would have questioned you otherwise, and that's what I found, too.”

Heero raked a hand through his hair and finally went back to hang up his coat, though I noticed that he didn't smooth it down like he usually did. “Une put you on the case?” he asked lightly. A sign of danger.

“Yeah. I can't do field work yet, and she knew I'd be interested in finding out. But... in the end, it just didn't feel right to go behind your back like that.”

Heero took his time closing the closet door. “I see.” Still that dangerous tone. I grabbed the end of my end and started fiddling with it, more to give me something to look at besides his face when he finally turned. “I think I understand where you're coming from...”

“Hey,” I said defensively, “I was called into her office, and that's when she told me. It happened fucking yesterday, all right?”

“Oh.” He blinked. “Okay.”

And that was that. My mouth fell wide open as his entire demeanor changed; his tone, his stance, even his stare changed, all in that one instant. He smirked at my reaction and came to stand in front of me. He closed my jaw for me. “You were telling me about a mysterious gift? From an admirer?”

If his hand wasn't holding my jaw in place, it would have dropped again. Was that jealousy I heard in his voice? I had to move his hand to be able to speak. “Uh, not in a good way, Yuy.”

And those eyes hardened again. “Then in what way?”

I let my braid fall from my hand. “Uh, in a stalker way?”

Heero's brows furrowed. “And what way is considered a stalker way?”

Either he was dense, or he was having the same problem I was having, trying to imagine some nutjob fucking around with an ex-Gundam pilot. Yeah. It was so ridiculous it just didn't even enter our minds. “The hiding outside the house and leaving an organ and a love note on the front porch kind of way.”

Heero just stared at me, his eyes as wide as saucers. “What?!”

“Yeah – said organ is now in the trash outside-”

Heero was already through the living room and into the kitchen before I gave up on explanations.

He stormed straight through the house and out the door, and before I could catch up with him, the bag was in his hands. He looked a bit more horrified than was necessary. After all, we'd seen human organs before, and we'd pretty much become desensitized to it. Plus, the idea of me being stalked was absolutely fucking classic. But he was just standing there looking into the bag like hell's gates had opened up right there on the back porch.

“Uh, Heero?”

“This – when did you get this?” His eyes flashed up to mine, sparking like fire, and then right before my eyes they cooled and calmed and iced over until the Perfect Soldier was standing in front of me.

I sighed and touched his face, sweeping my fingers from his brow to his jaw. Those eyes flickered. “Heero, I agree that it's sad that the cat or whatever was killed, but are you fucking serious?” I smiled right at him, and life returned to those beautiful orbs. “It's a stalker targeting the pilot of the Deathscythe. Do you really think it'd be so easy for me to fall? I'm wounded.”

“That's just it.” And those eyes hardened again, though thank God he didn't go Soldier on me again. “You are injured. You're still recovering. More.... more, to do this...” His eyes scorched into mine. “You said there was also a love letter?”

“More like a note,” I stipulated quickly, seeing the gleam in that cobalt gaze.

“Show me,” he ordered.

So I just rolled my eyes and led him over to the kitchen counter, where I'd left the note to clean up the heart. Heero picked it up and read it and paled. “What... what the hell does this mean?”

“It means the stalker thinks he's Prince Charming.” I shrugged widely and grinned, but Heero seemed to miss the humor.

“It says that you don't want to be with me.”

“And if you believe that for even a second, I will fucking punch you.” Heero's eyes turned a little hopeless... a little unsure. “Dammit, Yuy, knock it off. I love you, okay?” I blew my bangs out of my face. “Je-sus. I can't believe I have to remind you of-”

Heero kissed me fiercely on the lips. “I love you, too. I'll get this down to Une and-”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down there, Gonzalez. That's not necessary. Are you kidding? Calling the cops is the most we need to do. Special Ops for this just seems kind've like overkill, considering he's fucking with a goddamn Gundam pilot.”

It took Heero a while to let that one sink in, but when he did he half-glared at me. “Two.”

“Huh?”

He leaned in and kissed me again, taking his time this round, even using the hand not holding the note to cup the back of my head and pull me into better contact with him. “Two Gundam pilots,” he murmured against my lips, and my head just fucking spun. I grabbed his arms as his lips returned again, devouring mine. His scent consumed me.

“Let's call the cops,” Heero said. He started to pull away.

“No. Fuck cops.” I tugged him back, leaned up and kissed him. How come Heero was just that bit taller than me? Wasn't he of some sort of Asian descent? No fair. How'd he get to be so tall?

Heero laughed, but in the end he pushed me away. “No, love. Not now. Not yet. We need to take care of this first.”

I growled. “Come on.”

He pecked my lips. “No. When he finally make love, there will be no distractions.”

I blushed fit to implode. “Dammit, Heero! That's not fair.” I pulled away from him and tried to get myself back into some semblance of order. It wasn't really working. “Saying shit like that.”

He just laughed at me.

I scowled at out kitchen wall, my back to him. “But, you know... as dangerous as this is for the normal person... it really isn't that dangerous to me – us.”

“I'm not certain about that, Duo.”

“Huh?” I said again, turning to him.

That slip of paper was in his hand. He held it up for me to see. “The person who wrote this – they were dead serious. And if they know about the problems you and I are having, it's only a short step toward understanding just who you are – and what you're capable of. They probably wouldn't take this action without planning things through to the best of their ability. The fact that they sent warning means that they're confident of their ability to get you, despite everything you can do. It may simply be nothing more than some crackpot off his rocker, but it could also be a much more serious threat. We should take this seriously.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I waved a hand and rolled my eyes. “Mr. Assumptions Lead To Mistakes.”

“Exactly. Duo, I have to worry about this. I can't lose you.” Ouch, the pinch of guilt once again biting my ass. “Not so soon after finally resolving things a bit. And of course, I should say thank you – thank you for telling me all of this.”

If anything, my blush got worse. “Uh, yeah. Welcome.”

Heero placed the paper on the table and brushed something off my shirt. “Let's call the cops.”

Great. The cops. Right. “Fine. And when this all ends up being no big fucking deal, you'll owe me big time.”

It was Heero who went over to the phone. After all, I sure as hell wasn't gonna make the call. “Duo, if this ends up being no big deal, I won't care if I owe you for the rest of our lives.”

I huffed. “Overly dramatic twit.”

He just laughed and punched in the call. “And that would be your fault.”

<*>

Agh! I don't know why, but it's really hard for me to write this! >_<