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"Defying Gravity"A Romance in Three PartsWritten By: Kaeru Shisho Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Gundam Wing
or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story. Rating: NC 17 Warnings: AU, yaoi, some language Summary: A multi part story of romance starting
with a turning point vacation, developing throughout a dangerous UC
mission, and moving ahead through the unexpected challenges of a summer
vacation. "Part One: It's a Vacation" Gravity is a law of nature. It holds you to the Earth. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter One "Just forget it, 'Fei!" I knew he hated the nickname, but at the moment anything to get someone else riled up and take the heat off me was what I was after. I was just having a little more trouble than usual shaking off the pressures of the last infiltration job, that's all. I'd be fine in no time. He didn't take the bait and yell back. He just kept that cool reserve of his in place. "I will when you stop talking about it." Which I couldn't. I didn't take to embarrassment well, and I was still running on adrenalin from my last job, not from the 'incident' I had just barely walked away from with my ego intact. "Well, I have," I insisted, and it seemed my friend had clammed up, too. "Only," I continued, relentlessly pursuing persecution, "even though your mouth's not moving, I can hear you clear as a bell." Yep, I refused to give it up until I got it out of my system, whatever the "it" part was. I slammed the loaf of bread onto the breadboard, rattling the board, but not my friend. "I will leave the fowl on the counter," he said. Wufei unloaded the groceries as quietly as I did loudly. He was ready to move on and forget the entire episode, but I wasn't. It had been a stupid, knee-jerk reaction. I knew that then as I do now. If I hadn't just been coming off that long, hard assignment, I would have reacted better. As it was, Wufei had protected me from some damned unprofessional behavior. It's not like I went out of my way to beat up on guys checking me out. But... I mean, one thing I learned growing up on the streets was that guys that looked at guys that way were asking for a beating, and guys that liked it were dead meat. Guys had to be tough, and there was nothing tougher than Gundam pilots, even retired ones. "What if I'd hurt him seriously? Think my Preventer's badge would have saved me from being slapped with an 'unwarranted assault and battery' charge?" "But you didn't." "Because you stopped me!" Would my mouth ever stop yapping? I was aware of my tendency to talk too much. It was a way to cope. It was a way for a kid to deal with the ravages of war where the friendly fire was as dangerous as the enemy. And, ah, my fellow ex-Gundam pilots were most of that 'friend' part during the war, and they were my four best friends now. Yeah, the war was over and we were no longer pilots. That had taken some adjustment. Quatre had his family business to return him to the real world of peace, but passed it up to join the rest of us. The Preventer's peacekeeping agency sucked us up like the vacuum of space, gave us a job, a purpose, and a roof over our heads, while remolding us into something the public could accept. I mean, we were only eighteen, a mature eighteen, but not ready to find that special person and start shacking up on our own yet. Still, the demanding job rarely pushed us like our war time work had, so we all worked out, ran, and engaged in sports to keep our adrenaline pumping. It also kept our young bodies toned and conditioned- and looking good. Healthy body, healthy mind. Sounds swell, but for us it wasn't automatic. Life was all about adjustments, calm, reasonable, non-explosive, life-affirming ones, and if we weren't careful we could appear crazy to outsiders. I kept it light most of the time. You know, laughing it off. "It's just not your lucky day," he told me. As if that was any excuse. Or I could just lose it. That's worked too, but not as well. Okay, normally I'm a pretty rational guy, if not a bit cocky. "Cock sure" I've heard, although, usually followed by a rude comment about my anatomy. Not sensitive about that. No, sir. I may be short, but not in the department where it counts, and the guys all know it. "There is no luck, just bad karma," I snapped. Wufei was avoiding my verbal attacks as deftly as my fists when we physically sparred. "You would have stopped yourself. I only wanted to accelerate the process. How are you planning to prepare this chicken?" "Ah..." I was nearly caught off guard by his change of topics, but I made the adroit turnabout without skipping more than a beat or two. "Dust with flour, salt, pepper, roast on a rack for an hour at 350 degrees." I could brood over my stupid conduct, rattle off a recipe, and wash my hands at the same time. I was a master of multiprocessing. I also could have set a dozen charges, changed the oil in the car, and read a book. Busy hands keep the mind occupied and mostly sane. No one minded this personality trait. I wish all my war skills were as terrific to live with. With habits born out of survival instincts, I still automatically scanned rooms on entering any building- doing surveillance, checking out enemy positions. This was while stepping inside an ordinary, damned grocery store in our mountaintop resort, Maxwell! I had to laugh at my own idiosyncrasies, a word that sounded like a cross between "idiocy" and "crazy." A very apt description, as my bud, Quatre (pronounced 'Catter' by me and something soft and gooey 'Caaaah-trugh' by his friend Trowa Barton) would tell me. "Moronic behavior," would be said Trowa's terminology for describing me. Yeah, right on target, Tro-baby. Wufei would say I had "peculiar quirks." Well, didn't we all? Heero, he never said shit about me. I think the least said the better was his attitude, as in: "if you can't say something nice, don't say nothing at all." Thanks, Thumper, for the childhood philosophy lesson. I got more of those from reading to the younger kids in the orphanage. I was smart and learned fast. Still like to read, too. See, today was the start of our annual vacation with the gang of five, our retreat, just to put it into perspective. With me getting off a deep undercover operation, things were a bit touch-and-go until I made the adjustment to the real world. Of course, I wasn't the only one with adjustment problems, not by a long shot. Heero did perimeter checks- all the time, everywhere! I'm sure Trowa had placed security alarms around the cabin; Quatre probably had his devoted Arab strongmen holed up in neighboring cabins; and that one exceptionally heavy duffle bag Wufei hauled in wasn't filled with just books and clothes, I'd bet my hat on it. But today, I nearly lost it and hurt someone. Right now, Wufei's beady, black eyes were drilling a hole in my head. He nodded curtly, a gesture of approval. "Your recipe sounds simple and error proof." "Is that an intentional jab at my creative cooking?" His eyes blinked then narrowed. "That was praise for your modus operandi, considering I picked out the components for the meal." Oh, yeah. Damn. I had left him to do that, when we'd agreed I would help. Another screw up. See, he and I had set out on what should have been just a straightforward supply mission- that was all it was. Purchase provisions for a couple meals. Wufei had pointed out that since I had drawn the short straw, I was preparing lunch, which meant I would participate in the shopping. His was shorter still, so his fate was to accompany me. I think it was rigged from the start. I let Wufei take point into the grocery store, while I observed. Three employees, one coming out of the back cooler with a rack of milk cartons, one at the cash register, one stocking the chips. Four customers, or six, counting Fei and me. Possibly more hidden. Wufei pulled out his list, not that he needed one with his sharp memory. "Just as I thought. Heero added some things last night. Tea." He elbowed me, jostling me out of my headcount. "Why don't you choose the beer and I'll meet you at the meat counter?" "'Kay," I said, flashing him a smile as he floated swan-like down an aisle. I stalked away with a damned jaunty air. For some reason he considered me the beer connoisseur. It wasn't that I drank that much; in fact, I rarely did, and never on assignment, but this was a holiday and that meant stretching the boundaries that limited our lives. Yeah, right, a holiday. I was not on a mission. Naturally, Wufei wouldn't have trusted me to pick out a bottle of wine; that was too refined. More of a Quatre task. I shrugged off the creeping inferiority complex and targeted the beer in the back coolers. My heart rate eased as I entered the fruit and vegetable section. I nabbed a couple apples and a banana along the way, and I was even humming a tune. Oh, yeah, I was coming down from my "battle mode" high just fine, when the barest flicker of motion on the edge of my awareness triggered my reflexes. There was the shadow of another person I had missed before, their form blocked by a pyramid of pineapples. I bent over to tie a shoe. Well, I looked like I was tying a shoelace, but I was monitoring the shadow person. I didn't make it obvious! I was an expert in covert operations. The shadow didn't move and nor did I for a few tense seconds. (o) "Maxwell! That is our food in your hands." "What?" I asked. I didn't squeak or jump, but I almost did as Fei's voice yanked my mind out of its daydream. "What? They're clean! I washed my hands first." I was, however, strangling the chicken, or would have had it had a neck. Okay, so I hadn't completely shaken off the last job yet. Wufei must have noticed my frown deepen. He hadn't left the kitchen. He was resting against the refrigerator five feet away, arms crossed over his chest, eyes scrutinizing my face through narrow black slits. "Go talk to Quatre ...or Trowa." Wufei said loftily. He was a very decent guy, but his arrogant mannerisms could piss me off. It was a good thing he wasn't taller than me or he'd add "looking down his nose" to his posture. As it was, he tried anyway, which just got under my already oversensitive skin. "And why is that? What do they know that you and I don't?" Especially Trowa. Quatre was a buddy I could and often did have these little heart-to-hearts with, but Trowa? That guy's about as open as, well, a can of soup. Heero's more a can of ice-cold beer. Beer, damn! His smooth eyebrows arched. "Nothing, but they can...explain." He opened the refrigerator and removed a bottle of mineral water. His hesitancy in speaking openly was annoying me more, which he would have noticed had he noticed my body language. "Explain what?" I did not try to conceal the fact that I was irritated beyond belief. "This is our vacation, try treating it like one. I'm going to my room to relax. You should, too... or talk to them." On his way out, I heard Wufei snort to another cabin mate passing by the kitchen, who met the greeting with a grunt of his own. Heero settled his steely blue gaze on me, and said, "I'm taking my shower now." Heero. It was Heero who entered the kitchen in Wufei's place. He had been running; his hair was messy and his bare arms and legs were shiny with sweat. He'd probably run ten miles of deserted mountain trails just to warm up. My eyes mapped out a path upwards from his legs. He was so damn near perfect; even his sweat set off his toned arms, chest, neck—like his skin had been coated in molten gold. For a moment we locked eyes and my stomach lurched. Remembering what had happened less than an hour ago, I broke our eye contact and hid my face with my bangs as the heat rose up my neck. What teenage boy with hormones surging through his veins wanted to feel what I did about another boy? Heero would see it as the ultimate weakness, wouldn't he? Unless he didn't even recognize the symptoms. That was it. That's why he hadn't decked me already. I mean, he wasn't bothered by the way Quatre and Trowa had looked at one another when they got out the car, and he was looking right at them. I was probably the only one that had noticed. Guilty as charged. I sank into an alcoholic-like denial. I did not relish the feeling, not of guilt and not of attraction, for want of a better term, for another male. It disturbed me, but lots of things haunted my waking world, like the produce section of the grocery store. (o) I stood there in the store and luxuriated in the benevolence bestowed upon me by piles of produce. You gotta understand, the incredible abundance of fresh fruits and vegetables now at my disposal just amazed me. My childhood taught me to choose from the garbage anything that didn't move. During the war, rations were nutritional necessities out of a can or vacuum-sealed wrapper. Now, I loved the produce section of the grocery stores, which was why I had nearly missed a possible enemy combatant- so many distractions. I could smell the apples in my hand, warming to my touch as I waited for the "shadow person" to make the first move. Oh, yeah, I could wait and wait and tie and retie my shoe. When the "shadow person" stretched into view to reach for a fucking pineapple, she turned out to just be a fucking middle-aged woman comparing what appeared to be fucking identical fruit, one in each hand. No fucking weapons. Fuck. I relaxed, stood, and loosened the grip I had on my fruit, feeling foolish. Deep breaths. In and out. In and—I got through one breathing cycle, when a low guttural moan to my immediate left and rear galvanized my nervous system back to full alert status. I crouched, twisting and aiming my weapon at the man sneaking up behind me. "Bang?" he said bemusedly. Okay, so I was pointing a banana at a guy not much older than me who was surrendering, hands raised and palms out. I did not, however, drop the apples even as he very pointedly checked me out. "Sorry," I muttered. An irritating flush climbed my neck and I felt like a complete idiot. I left the scene of my stupidity thankful that this was a temporary neighborhood and that I'd never see the guy again. Oh yeah, I was wrong about that. I was wrong about lots of things at the time. Combat mode was not doing me any favors out in the real world. (o) I broke from my musings at the "sound" of Heero waiting for me to answer him. His silent glares hung heavy in the air. Had he asked a question? I watched as he swiped at his tangle of bangs, a gesture that was usually impatient but today seemed languid and sensuous. I was riveted in place. He was going to shower. Nice. I had seen him in a communal shower before. I didn't even have to imagine what he'd look like naked with water streaming over his muscles. "I will make it short," he said. His eyes scanned the kitchen behind me, attempting to gage the lunch ETA from the condition of the surfaces. "Um...okay. It'll be awhile before lunch in done, and... um... just to warn you, in case you missed it, I have KP duty, so you might want to make your eating-out plans while you're at it," I told him. I topped off my sentence with an exclamation-point smile. "!" He smiled, or one of the corners of his mouth curled slightly, fleetingly, comma-like. "," Anyone not looking for it would have missed it. "I can handle it," he told me. Unlike me, I guess. (o) Okay, so after the false alarm at the pineapple stand, I holstered my banana, and marched off to complete my assignment and choose some damn beer. I yanked out the first and largest damn case I could get my arms around and spun on a heel. Damn. That guy, the enemy combatant I'd taken out with a banana, was watching me and smiling. Now, I'm a dangerous guy to get riled up, so I began more of those deep breathing exercises Wufei had taught me and pulled an airy smile out of my bag of tricks. I figured I'd best hit the road while I was in control of my brain and wait for 'Fei in the car. "Thirsty?" the banana-guy asked me. "Yep," I answered and struck off in the direction of the cash register, Wufei's other orders pushed aside. Banana-man matched my pace as I strode to overtake him. No line at the gate. Swell. "Can I see your ID?" the cashier asked me. Who woulda thought the employee kid would care? I flashed my Preventer's ID and pulled out my wallet. I was oozing with confidence, which didn't stop me from chattering away. I forgot about what, but it probably included the clean air and the lack of snow, but the promise of snow in the higher elevations was pretty exciting and the absence of trash in the streets was neat and on and on and on— "I need to see your driver's license, um, sir," he said, adding on that "sir" part with a tone of foreboding. I could tell; it was my job to read other people, put them at ease, and fit in. I must have given him one of Heero's bona fide-killer "I dare you to insist" looks, because he started wiping his hands on his pants. "I don't get asked," I said. He croaked, "It's the law," one I should know, being a law enforcement officer of the highest order. "Sure." I grinned and slapped my Shuttle-rated pilot's license onto the counter. "Um... This shows you're only eighteen. Law is twenty-one." Crap. Busted. The cashier seemed proud to have done his math correctly. He had no idea who he was pressuring, obviously, but I had to admire his guts. This was probably the only place on Earth, in the whole damned universe, where it mattered. Anyone seeing the Preventer's ID let the rest pass as a rule, except this guy. 'Fei probably had a fake ID somewhere on his person, probably the one he'd lifted off me when he picked me up, which reminded me: where had Wufei gone to? "Don't worry. It's for me anyway. Here." It was that guy who had taken my banana hit in stride. He presented the cashier with his ordinary-looking driver's license and dropped a few bills on the counter. He smiled down at me and said, "Let's go." If I hadn't been uncomfortable before, I was now. I hefted the carton, moving gingerly to avoid contact with him at the door, and made a beeline for the car, the unmarked Preventer's rental. "You didn't have to do that." "It's all cool," banana man said, matching my pace. "It's rough being not twenty-one around here." I couldn't shake him off. At the car I really figured I'd have to make it clear that our temporary alliance was at an end. "Thanks, man. Here's what I owe you." And be gone. Well, I didn't add that last part, but I thought it very, very hard, for all the good it did me. (o) Yeah, for all my talking, I had a difficulty communicating at times. Like then, and like in the cabin kitchen with Heero. Heero was on his way for that shower. His retreating back meant that I hadn't said too much or compromised my position. He wasn't a mind reader, thank the gods, or he'd have busted my jaw long ago. I had erotic thoughts concerning him lots of the time, which I couldn't deny to myself when I was feeling kinda vulnerable. Like at this particular moment. Okay, so busy was good, calming and distracting. I had lunch under control; the table set, side dishes in serving bowls, glasses of... sigh... water only at each place. I was going to do this first meal in style, just to show everyone that I had class, when I wanted it. I checked the timer and noted that the roast had another ten minutes or so. Maybe, I could spare a moment and have that word with Quatre, or Trowa. The cabin wasn't that large. No one was hard to find, and two together was easy. Trowa and Quatre were building a fire, and not in the fireplace where one was already crackling. They were necking on the nearby couch. I sucked up my shocked shout. My friends, both male, I repeat, were kissing, passionately. Not just admiring one another, but actual intimate contact was happening. Okay, I minded, but I didn't want to show it. I had my own inhibitions and, well, hang-ups, but that shouldn't translate to my friends and their choices. In fact, I was more than a little jealous of those caring, stolen moments they shared and envious of their courage. Still, a guy who likes other guys is a dead guy, and don't forget that. Not wanting to disturb them, but too late to go back without doing just that, I dropped the dishtowel I'd been holding and bent over to pick it up, making enough noise to warn them of my near-presence. I wasn't really an insensitive klutz. "Duo!" Quatre cried out, pushing apart. "How's lunch coming along?" I pretended I hadn't seen them. "In process. ETA is about ten minutes. It's gonna be great, I can tell ya. I just needed this." I waved the rag in my hand like a white flag and grinned. Trowa chuckled, but didn't take away the arm he had around our nervous friend. "I hope the dishrag isn't an important part of the menu." "Hey, that was a mistake that time; I told you! It fell into the soup when I wasn't looking." Okay, cooking was a personal challenge for me. I never had a mother to teach me, or anyone, or much time with an available kitchen to learn in. All in all, I was doing okay with it. Quatre stopped struggling against Trowa's grip on his shoulder and let out a sigh. I wondered how they had come to accept their mutual interest, and how they dealt with being part of the world of outcasts within outcasts. I was about to turn and forget what I'd been planning to ask. "You're not intruding-" Quatre began. "Much," Trowa added beneath his breath. "I, uh, had a question," I said. I could hear my voice falter and suddenly felt my ear tips burn. "But it can wait. Not important. Should check the chicken." "Maxwell," Trowa said. "What's up?" I drew a deep breath. Get it over with. "I just want to know why... Ah, shit... Fei-man put me up to this." Quatre colored a rosy pink, a shade lighter than the edge of t-shirt peeking out from under the neck of his grey sweater, and Trowa coughed and adjusted his position slightly. "Duo, what are you asking?" "I mean, do I have some big sign on my back that says 'come get some'?" Okay, I blurted that out before my better judgment could shut up my big mouth. Trowa's eyes were glittering in amusement, although Quatre looked as keenly uncomfortable as I felt. "You want to know why every single, and not so single, girl in the Preventer's building has a crush on you, or is it the male population that has you worried?" Trowa asked. Man, Trowa didn't pull any punches. I wrapped my arms across my chest and glared as best I could. "I'm mad, not worried. It's annoying when some jerk gets the wrong idea in his head, her head, er, its head, all right?" Trowa laughed. He really did. Quatre took that opportunity to escape his clutches, sit up, and punch his friend's chest. "Trowa! Duo is asking for our help. It's not funny." He turned his gentle eyes to me. "I know just what you mean. Just because I'm..." "Delicate and pretty," Trowa supplied. "Not a caveman hunk," Quatre said, frowning. "There are some people that take that to mean I'm easy or available." Easy? Available? The horror of discovery vented out my eyes, and not my mouth because my hands were plastered over my mouth. Quatre shot off the couch to clutch me to his chest. "I didn't mean you were!" he said to try and reassure me. "You saying I'm girly?!" I shouted as I pushed him away. I didn't want to be coddled. I didn't want to hear this. I was so into denial I was imploding concussively with as much force as I was exploding. Yeah, okay, I was touchy on that topic. We were all small, slender, and young men. We were picked as Gundam pilots probably based on that very feature, for a start, so we could fit into the tiny compartments onboard. Quatre was my best bud. He was the cutest, blondest guy I'd ever seen, although I'd never tell him that, because he was also the deadliest and smartest, and very impulsive—Wufei pulling a close second. Trowa had the lithe, flexible body of the trapeze clown he had once been. Wufei and...sigh...Heero were Asian, smooth-bodied, and graceful as cats. I was a tough little nut to crack. None of us was the least bit "girly." "No! Don't run off, Duo. Stay. Sit." He was stronger than he looked. Quatre with his delicate, flaxen beauty held my wrists in an iron grip. I could have twisted out of his hold, though, because I was tougher, rougher, and wilier, but I conceded. He hadn't completely answered my questions. My sexually had never been questioned before, not like this. I was a man, goddamnit! "I'm not some fag, either!" I regretted that stupid outburst instantly. Quatre folded as if I'd slugged him. "I-I sorry. I didn't mean it," I said immediately. Trowa looked about to crush me. "You had better mean that apology, Maxwell." I nodded vigorously, and then sank onto the couch with Quatre in the middle between us. "I don't know what I am," I whined, deflated, angry, hurting with that admission. Trowa shook his head and pursed his lips, as much to supply the answer, "asshole." "Duo, don't tell me you've never really looked at yourself in the mirror." "Huh? Of course I have, er, do." I realized I was hurting Quatre's feelings with my hardened eyes and my sideways glare, so I breathed deeply and let it all out. Twice. Three times. I winked and grinned. "Otherwise, I'd cut my throat when I shaved." Quatre's eyes widened the approximate size of twin skating rinks, but Trowa knew I was joking. "I meant in a full-length mirror." "No." When and why would I do that? I never owned a mirror. Clothes fit because they felt right when I tried them on. When I suited up, it was all by feel and a buddy cross-check. I was a man who liked girls. And Heero. Girls. They were pretty and open, easy to talk to, no posturing, competing. Hilde was a friend. She understood guys. Sally Po, too. Mostly. Trowa leaned over Quatre and said in a low and sexy voice, "Because you are a gorgeous, attractive guy, Duo." He straightened, eyes focused into the distance, a smirk setting the curves around his mouth. "Just ask Heero, if you don't believe me." I was nearly jerked into an alternate universe when Heero's voice intoned over my shoulder, "Ask me what?" Ah, Jeez... Now, where had all my witty comebacks skittered off to? My mouth opened and my brain failed to provide the quip to save my pride, and my skin. I froze in place. Yeah, I liked Heero, but that was my deepest, darkest secret. I thought. Had Trowa guessed about how I felt? I mean, a guy who liked other guys was a dead guy. Who'd want to admit to an obsession like that, a damned unhealthy one?! Who'd want to be an outcast? Heero was waiting for me to say something, again. What in hell was I to say? Heero, do you think I'm cute? Those would be the last words I ever uttered, because no matter how tough I thought I was, Heero could bend steel bars with his bare hands. I imagined a pretzel-Duo, dangling from Heero's hands, and laughed with nervous energy. "Ah, heh, heh..." Trowa was unstoppable, for some miserable reason of his own. What had I done to him lately to deserve this? I had apologized for the salt in his coffee joke, hadn't I? "Wouldn't you say Maxwell's hot?" he asked. Okay, so if I was frozen before on the couch next to Quatre, I was melted in place now, the fire in me flaring out, fusing Trowa's creepy smile to his face with my scorching, flame-thrower glare. Retreat! Retreat! My brain screamed over the intercom. Gods freaking alive! In my surreal flash of friend-frying, I'd practically forgotten Heero hovering mere inches away. Ah, hell. Just break my neck and end this wretched moment, why don't you. Heero dropped to his knees. Here it comes... I could feel his body heat on my leg and hip as he drew closer. I could smell his piney shampoo. His hand, rock-hard, unyielding was on my shoulder. Just a little higher and "snap!" Get it over with. Make it quick, please! Next thing I knew, his warm hand had brushed past my bangs and was pressed to my forehead. "No. He's normal." Heero actually said that about me. I opened my mouth to shout "Just as I was saying!" when Heero's face was in mine a hairbreadth away, those deadly, blue eyes raking over my face. "But Trowa's right; you are attractive." I was in an alternate universe. I had to be. No way would the Heero I knew say that. Alternate universe or I was losing it. Battle fatigue-us extremis. I was stunned, but at long last my brain clicked into combat mode and established an escape route. "The chicken!" It burst from my lips as I vaulted over the back of the couch and rocketed to the safety of the kitchen and away from Trowa's smug smirk, Quatre's pained look, and Heero's earnest expression. No way in hell was I going to fall into that insanity! I liked my fantasies crowded into my dreams at night where they belonged. But Heero's closeness had been real, just like that of banana man earlier, the unsolicited man. (o) There I stood, juggling a twelve-pack of beer in one arm while trying to open the trunk of the car with the other under the scrutiny of ... "Gill. My name's Gill, um, Duo. Ah, your name was on your badge. You really with Preventers?" Whoa doggies! That was too personal and invasive. I sure as hell did not like where this was heading. "Listen," I began, straightening and balancing the beer on my knee, because the trunk was locked and, naturally, Fei-man had the keys. I looked up and spied Wufei scowling at me from the exit and heading my way, arms loaded with bags. Shit. I had forgotten to help him choose the meat entrée to cook. Banana man tracked my gaze to my grumpy friend closing in, and then stepped closer, if that were possible. "The Chinese dude your boyfriend?" "What? Fuck, no!" I yelped. I must have been out of practice or really tired from the last job, because normally I would have joked my way out of this whole mess. Instead, I must have sent him some secret message of yearning, because in a flash his hands were on my ass and his crotch was driving into my thigh. (o) Not what I wanted on my mind when I was dealing with oven-hot chicken. My thoughts were running helter-skelter trying to get a grasp on reality. Okay, a guy liking another guy might not get off-ed right away, but he could get burned. "Damn!" I bit off the rest of what I'd usually say and blew on my fingers. Don't try to wiggle a chicken leg to test if it's done without a hot pad. Suddenly, I found my hand was in the air as I was dragged to the sink. The faucet gushed and icy water trickled over my pink fingertips and over Heero's naturally tanned right hand. "It isn't burned," he told me in an amused tone of voice. "I know it isn't," I said. I was a mite testy. "I know when I've fucking burned myself!" My wrist was released from that iron grip, but the firm chest leaning into my side didn't budge. "I meant the roast. I assumed you were mad about burning it. Smells good." "So do you." Oh dear gods, had I said that aloud? I must not have because in the next instant I was still alive and breathing, however, Heero's face faltered; dare I say it softened slightly? No, more likely it was mild alarm. His still-damp hair framed his face and eyes, those killer eyes. "I'll get the rest of dinner on the table. You can bring that," he said, punctuating the words "rest" and "that" with a nasally resonance. Sure thing Heero. At your service. "Just what I was gonna do, before you crowded it up in here." He grunted and I could swear he chuckled once on his way to the table carrying the boxes of deli potato salad and coleslaw, Wufei's choices. Where had my sense of humor flown off to? I sounded bitchy even to myself. Touchy, touchy, Duo. I knew that a show weakness of any kind around these guys would give them an opening. They could tease the hell out of a guy once they smelled fear. Even Heero, on occasion. He had a wicked sense of humor, although, he rarely directed it my way. 'Course, I didn't know who the hell this Heero was. Okay, right. I figured out what this was all about, then: a test of my nerves. Heero wanted to determine whether I was mentally sound enough, after the last taxing job, for him to remain a week in the same cabin with me. He probably figured Trowa was just setting up the assault at 'Fei's insistence and under Quatre's scrutiny. Well, that was better than the alternative universe theory. Right. Feeling grounded again, I managed to carve the bird into man-sized hunks and bring the platter to the table without further incident. Wufei came into the room like a stiff breeze, his crisp white slacks crackling. Trowa, and Quatre filtered into the room, and everyone found a chair. I started the meal by passing the meat platter to Wufei on my left. Heero was on my right. "So," Trowa said, his long bangs barely hiding his smile. "Where's the beer? I was certain you promised beer with lunch." "Trowa," Quatre growled. Poor guy. He was trying to protect my feelings or image or something with honorable intentions. "I, ah, I dropped it," I said. I'm cursed. Now, drop the subject. "On a man's foot," Wufei added. "A wasteful way of dealing with a situation." "I didn't do it on purpose!" Yes, I was defensive. "That guy groped me!" "What guy?" Heero asked. "Just another of Maxwell's constant stream of admirers, right?" Trowa remarked. Heero, well, I didn't want to see his expression, but my eyes darted disobediently in his direction. I could feel his dark glower tensing up like the sixth man on the bench, waiting his turn to get into the game. "No one important," Wufei said. "Although, you shouldn't pick up strangers." "Wha--?!" I started to yell, when I noticed the arch amusement playing at the edges of Wufei's lips and clammed up. I could be the better man and take a ribbing. I was rewarded with a blink as he passed the platter to Trowa. "What is that cabbage dish called? I chose the freshest looking vegetable offerings, but they were all unidentified," Wufei asked. "Coleslaw," Trowa said. "Don't break the fork, Yuy, this place is a rental." I dared not look at Heero. In his mind, I knew, it was me he was distorting into that pretzel shape and not his eating utensil. All his respect for me was surely dashed forever, leaving him with the street-rat Duo, who was worthy of a thrashing and gods-knows-what else he could come up with given the time and incentive. I was afraid to open my mouth and stir that deadly imagination, stoke the fires within. No reason for me to encourage him and get burned alive. "Chang Wufei!" Quatre cried out. "You can't just change the subject like that! Duo doesn't pick up anyone. They just...just can't help themselves." Goddamn. Could I dig a hole and climb in? A trench. Bunker down and ride out the assault. Or...dig further and visit China. That was far away. L2 was further. I should vacation on L2 from now on. "He should buy some new clothes," Trowa said. "He's grown. You've grown, Maxwell. Your pants and shirts are skin tight, and, as much as I appreciate the view, it sends the wrong signals." "Huh?" All right, when was I going to step in and tell them all where they could shove it and where they could all go take a vacation next time? I was bristling and offended at the same time. "Many homosexual men wear clothes to show off their assets," Trowa said. I was truly mortified and angry. I was about to blow, when Heero butt in with, "It's going to snow tonight." Out of the blue we have a weather report. "I didn't bring anything warm enough. Did you?" Heero asked me. He was asking me. I swallowed back all my choice, glib rejoinders, mumbling, "...no..." I don't know if anyone else could have heard me; I was so quiet. I mean, come on. Heero Yuy unprepared? He was never unprepared for a mission, er, vacation. "After lunch, we'll go shopping. We passed an outlet mall on the way here. Two point three miles back. Hopefully, I can get a winter coat at a reasonable price." "What gives, Yuy? Four sentences strung out at one time?" Trowa mumbled. Quatre saved everyone else the trouble and kicked his shins. I chewed over what Heero had said. I hadn't noticed passing an outlet mall on the way to the cabin, but then it seems that wasn't the only thing that I'd missed on the drive, either that or Heero took a different route up than 'Fei. Fei's rental car brought me, Quatre and Trowa, while Heero drove solo with all the supplies. Ah,ha! That's how it happened then! Someone had gotten in under my radar and switched out the real Heero for this doppelganger. Right. Or I was hallucinating. Man, I didn't want to lose it in front of my friends like this. So, before I started doing serious damage, I figured I'd better head on out on my own a bit. I stopped my mental backpedaling and found my solid footing and my voice. "I think I'll head on home." Of course, I hadn't filled Heero in along the way while my mind tracked along on its trajectory, so, naturally, he followed his own tangential trail of logic to its unassailable end. "No. Preventer's dorm is too far and in the wrong direction." "Huh?" I was so confused. He leaned close, practically touching noses, and added, "Mission complete. Stand down, soldier." Wufei spoke up. "Yuy means that you're not at work any more." "Please, Duo. Relax. It's our vacation." That was Quatre's nickel's worth of advice. "Chill out, Maxwell," Trowa said with a rumbling chuckle. And that was that. I got it. Again, a new possible explanation. This was a holiday, vacation. It was not like real life. Okay, so I figured that out before, hadn't I? My mind was still flowing into and out of "infiltrate and destruct" mode, while everyone else was "at ease." Things were fitting into place, and I smiled. "So, when the vacation's over, does the real Heero Yuy come back?" I asked. "Baka," he said with a snort, but it was a smiling snort, not a disgusted one, so I didn't press the issue. I wasn't going to battle this Heero over a mythical point. Bring me out of alert status; gradually reincorporate Duo into the rest of humanity. I got it. It wasn't some convoluted date scenario. I could go shopping with Wufei; I could go shopping with Heero. I didn't have to go ballistic if a guy checked me out, or a girl. I wasn't attracted to guys. Well, just Heero. Nuts, that hadn't changed. Deny it to the end of time, but it couldn't be helped. I liked Heero Yuy, both of them, but especially this new one. "Yeah, heh, heh... Just forget that, okay?" I laughed. "Shut up and eat your food," Heero said. I could have sworn he winked. At me. "After a complete investigation," Trowa said. "I call the upstairs bathroom ours and the downstairs one Maxwell's. No arguments! You use up all the hot water washing that mane of yours and leave a mat of hair the size of a small animal in the drain. The downstairs one shares a hot water heater with the kitchen and laundry; the upstairs has one of its own." I was not allowed to argue. Quatre was next to report in. "I called ahead. Ours is the only occupied cabin within a radius of 200 yards, until the weekend, when the skiers pour into the area. If we can't leave on Sunday, we can rent day-to-day after that the following week. I prepared our cooking and cleaning schedule for the week." "What could happen so that we couldn't we leave?" I asked. I glanced down at the neat chart my bud had drawn up. "Snow," Heero said. "There is sufficient firewood. More stacked 100 feet from the back door. I found three outbuildings, locked: one containing grounds equipment, one yard furniture, and another safety vests and oars. There is a boat house, pier, and launch one quarter mile north. The back steps are in poor repair and icy. I do not recommend using that exit." Okay, so maybe I was wrong about my friend's paranoia. Maybe I was a little keyed up. Maybe I really needed this break from endless mission after mission. Of course, there was 'Fei's heavy duffle bag to consider... And, uh, if you wanted to know, lunch was good. Everyone told me so. Oh, and the shopping trip was almost like a date. I know what I said before, that it wasn't, but I was wrong, again. But that's another story.
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