Disclaimer: Gundam Wing, shockingly, horrifyingly, belongs to someone else.
One extremely long, extremely cold shower later, I moved over to the table, towel tied firmly
around my hips, and glared at my own personal computer. Write the best report she'd ever read. Pfft. She'd read probably every
bloody report while working for Oz, then had probably taken over Preventors and done the exact same thing.
Well, I'd just have to shock her into admitting defeat.
I spent the rest of the morning clicking on the keyboard. Only when I was done did I celebrate
with some food. I ripped a bite off my tuna fish sandwich and grinned with glee as I copied the report and sent it to Her
I went back to the kitchen and pressed my forehead against the cool glass of one of the kitchen
windows. Last night, I had woken up no less than five times, hard and sweaty and in pain.
I'd been deathly afraid of getting up and taking care of the problem, too, because a certain someone was fine-tuned to my
every movement. I wouldn't be surprised if he'd been up all night, too, listening to me toss and turn and wondering if I was
in pain. Son of a bitch.
This was ridiculous. Heero and I had lived together in this house before
the Caribol shit had reached its peak, forcing us to separate from one another. Sure I'd felt the desire to have sex with
Heero before, but it had never gotten so extraordinarily out of control. I had not ever lost so much fucking sleep due to
sex before in my life. It was a daunting thing to acknowledge.
And then I sighed and straightened and stalked to my room. Heero would kill
me for standing out in the middle of the kitchen wearing nothing but a towel when some psycho stalker pissed around outside
So I closed my doors and pulled the blinds down over the windows
and dropped the towel. I'd managed to cool down in the long-ass shower, struggling to not take care of the problem. Apparently somewhere in my mind I'd decided to become a martyr. I wanted to do it with
Heero, and I wanted to wait until he gave the okay. Was that stupid? Yes. Was I going to break that decision? Fuck no.
I slipped on a pair of slacks in preparation for another difficult night,
then tucked on a polo shirt. Wouldn't do to wear slacks and a t-shirt. Even when I was in the house alone.
I went back out to the kitchen and fixed myself a second sandwich,
the first one having been inhaled somewhere during my musing spree, and chowed down on it. Whatever my personal musings on
Heero and me and bedtime activities, I had my own shit I needed to take care of. I still needed to find our little Fail Prince
in Prevenntors. I needed to do my exercises. More, I seriously needed to worry about my poor Wing waiting in port for me to
return. Once I healed, shouldn't I return to the sky? I didn't want to just waste my precious Wing, but I couldn't exactly
have it sitting lonely in the port for the rest of eternity.
Especially since it was damn expensive to do so.
I did my exercises first, carefully working my arms. Then after I finished,
I re-wrapped the gauze around my fingers. They really weren't all that bad, just scraped and bruised and a little sore. I
tested them out for a moment. It seemed I couldn't go a week without getting myself messed up somehow.
Then I returned to my computer and got my ass on the Preventors system again.
It took only a few minutes to reacquaint myself with the remaining list of people and started from the man he'd worked with
last. Apparently it was some old hat named Rick Costello. I looked him up in Preventors' files. He was a balding guy who'd
been called in from Treize's old faction. His psych evaluation showed him to be a rigid rule-follower with what appeared to
be a black-and-white view of the world. It was as good a place to start as any.
Heero and Rick had gone on a mission just before our unintentional reunion;
the man had asked for Heero's back-up for an arms op while Wufei was out on a narcs case. They'd gone in, made the bust; there
was no problem during the entirety of the thing. Heero was like that – any potential problem just died stillborn.
I searched through the database, loaded through the guy's encrypted files,
and searched through his computer and Heero's computer. Neither had been on at the same time, but the man didn't log onto
his computer after Heero's computer was used. Still, he hadn't left until an hour afterwards. I kept him open as a maybe and
It took me fucking hours, but I narrowed it down to only three people. I looked at the list with wide eyes. Rick was there, and a guy named
And Zechs Marquise.
Of course I wanted to blame the little shit immediately. I hated him like
I hated nobody else I had to fight during that damn war. Except maybe Tubarov. Hated him, too.
I drew a deep breath and leaned back. Figuring I should update Miss Creepy,
I scuttled out of Preventors and checked into my e-mail. She'd already sent me a reply to my report. I grinned. She'd sent
it back an hour after I'd sent it to her. Good grief. Had she been hanging onto the freaking computer or something?
I clicked it open and read her reply. And bust out laughing. “'Your
vocabulary is as eloquent as always,' huh? Well, I guess that means she forgives me.” I thanked her for the compliment
and informed her of the three suspects left.
With that done, all I had to do was brood over what to do with my Wing.
My poor little Demon's Wing. It had been so neglected lately, it was probably pissed with me. I sighed; I should definitely
go check the poor thing out. If nothing else, she would need her oil changed. It was downright cruel to neglect one's baby,
Okay. Maybe I was a little insane.
I huffed my bangs out of my face and left Heero a quick note telling him
I'd be back and to not freak out. Then I checked in with the port to let them know I'd be coming and to get an oil fill ready
and left the house.
My poor baby looked so depressed and pathetic it made me sad. She was dusty
from nearby liftoffs; she had poor oil, she hadn't been checked in forever, and worse: when I went inside, though the cockpit
and the hull and everything else on the front end of my precious baby was one hundred percent unpainted.
“Oh, you poor thing.” I touched the bare wall and winced for
her. My Wing had been with me through hell itself, battling with me, staying with me, listening to me. And I'd repaid her
by leaving her all alone.
“Sorry, baby.” Ignoring how ridiculous it would look –
after all, I was alone – I kissed her cool metal and backed away. “I'll take care of you now.”
I spent the next four hours watching the workers as they changed her oil
and helping them clean her spotless. Then I went out and bought some paint for her and a couple rollers and, giving in to
the inevitable, the crimson paint and brushes for my damn poems that I would write and would be pissed doing with old paint
and tucked it all into the back of the car. I would like to note, right now, that I had always had a damn car. Hidden in Preventors'
garage. In the back. The far back.
Returning to my Demon's Wing had me slowing my car down and rolling down
my windows. Cops were patrolling the area. My eyebrows lifted as one of them came toward me.
“Duo Maxwell?” The dude didn't even give me a chance to respond
before he flashed me his badge. “I'm Sergeant Daniel Weller; I've been told to inform you that, and I quote, 'bending
steel doesn't mean shit if I can't reach it in time.' Come with me, please.”
I didn't move, despite the fact that only fucking Yuy would come up with
that shit. “What for?”
The man seemed like he'd already taken more than his share of impertinence
for the day and wasn't about to regenerate some patience any time soon. “Sir, you've been on the missing person's list
for about two hours.”
I gave a long-winded sigh and rolled my eyes. “Where is he?”
The man hesitated. “I believe he is looking over your ship. We received
news that you were here just a small while ago.”
“Yeah, go figure,” I muttered darkly. “Thanks, Weller.
I'll take care of this.” I didn't give him time to answer, just stepped on the gas enough to charge past him. Jesus
Christ. I'd left a fucking note. Just what the fuck did Heero think he was doing?
Sure enough, Heero's car was sadly and pathetically sitting outside my goddamn
ship and hell if, after slamming my door and stomping up the lift, he wasn't looking at a surviving poem in the kitchen with
“Yuy, just what the hell do you think you're doing?!”
Heero turned to me. He wasn't surprised – he couldn't possibly be,
what with my footsteps pounding through the silent hull. He wasn't thrilled, either – go figure there. In fact, when
Heero turned to look at me, those sad eyes morphed into absolutely livid.
“Me?” Heero's voice was ice-cold. Danger tone. “What about
you? You disappeared.”
“Disappeared? I came here! I fucking told you-”
“You didn't tell me anything.” It was unbalancing
to see Heero like this, so furious I could see death in his eyes. Somehow I hadn't imagined being looked at like that again, again with those eyes that looked far too much like Cyborg-Heero. I shivered. “You didn't
say a word to me. When I got back home, the house was empty. You weren't anywhere.”
“Of course not,” I spat, hackles raising. His eyes
were turning deader and deader and I couldn't stand it. Worse... worse, his attitude was hitting my last nerve, too. “I don't have to stay in the house twenty-four seven, Heero Yuy. I'm free to come and go as
“With injuries like those?” he demanded, icily glaring at my
hands. I'd taken off the bandages in defeat mid-way through cleaning Wing, and my fingers, with their cuts and scrapes, were
laid bare for him to see.
“Yeah. It's almost like I've had worse.”
“This could have waited,” he gritted out.
“Well I wanted to do it now. That sure as fuck isn't a crime, now
is it, Mr. Preventor?” I shot back.
Heero got in my space, his eyes looking down on me with contempt. I held
my ground more out of defiance than any sort of confidence. If Heero and I got into a fight right now, I had absolutely no
doubt that he would win, recovering abdomen or not. “You had no right to leave-”
“I don't need your permission, Papa Yuy!”
“The hell you don't! Leaving the house, leaving no notice, when you're
still recovering from a fucking suicide attempt!”
I'd opened my mouth to respond to the middle part of his little statement
when my mind just fucking blanked. Suicide attempt. Of course. Of course his mind would go there. He'd lost sight of me. Lost
track of me. Who's to say I wouldn't throw myself halfway across the world and jump into a hotel bed and toss it back one
That one hurt.
I managed to get my mouth closed. “I told you I'd never try that again.”
“Then you shouldn't have left without letting me know somehow. What
else am I supposed to think?”
“Uh, I don't know. How about I went grocery shopping?”
At Heero's mutinous face, I relented. “Heero,” I said soothingly, “I did leave a note. Right on the kitchen table. Clear view.”
“No. There was nothing.”
I took a deep, calming breath. Reason always worked on Heero before; it
should work now. “Heero, I wouldn't have left the house without leaving a note. I wouldn't worry you like that. It said
I was leaving for a bit. It said not to freak out. Okay?”
I was interrupted by a knock behind me. It was Weller. “Excuse me;
what are we supposed to do?”
I turned to him. “Leave. And write a really rude report about this
guy here.” I pointed to Heero behind me. “Make sure to note the abuse of power.”
“Duo,” Heero growled.
“I really am sorry about all this,” I told the man. “It
was a huge waste of manpower. Heero will be writing an appropriate apology to your department soon.”
The man looked a little scared. Probably because of Heero's glare. “Um,
right. We'll be going, then.”
“Thanks for everything, man!” I called, and waved him off. When
I turned back to Heero, he looked confused. Angry, of course, but confused. And what might have been a little hopeful.
“Did you...really leave a note?”
His eyes were melting again, thank God. I couldn't stand that ice-cold glare
anymore. It was rather odd to learn this about myself, since I was usually the one perfectly immune to such a look. Sure couldn't
take it anymore. It made the memories return. But hell if I was telling the man that. “Yes, Yuy. I really did.”
He shook his head. “There wasn't one. I'd searched everywhere I could
think of. I'd checked the kitchen several times. I hadn't ever found a note. Anywhere.”
I frowned. “Did it fall off?”
“There was nothing on the floor, either.”
I believed him. Heero wasn't the type to do something half-heartedly. “Then
what the hell?” But I dropped the subject altogether and raised my hand to his face. “Are we okay?”
He sighed. “I don't know. I think my heart is still not beating.”
I tried to imagine it; tried to imagine expecting Heero to be at the house
and not finding him anywhere. It was hard, because I didn't have much of an assumption to have him around constantly. But
for a very short second I could see it, and it scared me. I think I sighed, too. “I think I understand. But...”
I wish I could take his fears and destroy them. I wasn't going to try again. I'd learned my lesson. But fears never listened
“I know.” His hand lifted to rest on top of mine. “I overreacted.
I just... it just made me think of...” Of the search. Of what they'd found.
His eyes fluttered closed for a moment. “It was him.”
His words were so off-track from where my mind sat that it took almost a
full minute for me to catch up. “You think my stalker did it?”
“Took the note.”
“Why? He could've just followed me.”
“You can't tell me you wouldn't catch someone following you.”
...Point. “So he took the note and followed me after waiting a while.”
“That's what I think.” Heero's fingers started to tremble a
bit. “Which means-”
“He's been watching me this whole time.” I frowned.
“But I hadn't felt anything. I haven't felt anything yet. That's not
normal.” It scared me, actually. Had I become too used to having civilians around me?
I blinked. Well, it wasn't me, then. “Something's up with this guy.
He's not a normal psycho stalker, after all.”
Heero didn't seem very happy with this little conclusion. “Duo, I
have to apologize. How I acted...”
I huffed my bangs from my face and rubbed my neck. “Yeah, you definitely
owe me. I want a fudge sundae. Pay up.”
He grinned despite the chagrin in his eyes. “What are you, ten?”
I scrunched up my face. “When I was ten, I was running down streets
with a slice of bread. And I was only about a year or so from meeting my dear professor. Or had I met him by age ten? I'm
kinda in the dark on the exact age. Besides, that's not the point. I want a sundae. You owe me. You are buying me a fudge
sundae. Got it?”
“Got it, got it. You'd think you were pregnant.”
“Oh, ha ha. Male Pregnancy joke. Will the hilarity never
cease?” It turned from him and started to lead him back out of my Wing.
Heero grabbed my wrist and pulled me back. “First, I wanna have my
own dessert first.”
“Isn't that a cliché?” I asked, but he just shut me up with
a long, hard kiss.
It was hot. Hot and long and erotic. And it got me hard in
no time. All that work I'd spent getting myself calm was moot. His hands snagged in my braid, pulled my head back. I didn't
even have the strength to think stop before suddenly I was drowning in need.
When he broke it off and grinned and pulled me to the car, it was almost
impossible to let the light mood take me over. Definitely impossible to get the entirety of my body to go along with the facade.
I was infinitely glad I'd worn the slacks.
And when we reached the ice cream parlor, I was even gladder to taste the
ice-cold ice cream on my tongue, strong enough to chase away Heero's taste. A taste that echoed itself in my dreams again