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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 Two: It's Back to Work"
Chapter 19
Heero's tense POV Alric Gunter was not pleased with our sudden decision to hold his "camp boys" for ransom, but seeing how we had delivered his drugs and the weapons as promised, I think he believed Zechs was a shrewd black-market businessman. Gunter was panicking. He visited us once at the house, hand delivering us our admittance forms for the conference. He waited for Zechs to fill out the required parts and asked to see us and "his boys". This was of course denied him. Without a fight, he left, promising to return soon. The next afternoon Gunter presented the expected invitation to Zechs, including fully paid entrance fee receipts, accommodation arrangements, and points to our credit—papers, we were told, which we would be required to show for admittance. Zechs asked Gunter about the significance of the points. "You will be able to skip the tedious, newbie competitions going on now and walk right into the finals," Gunter said. "Dress well." The man didn't know when to leave. He asked again to see "his boys," to which the answer was a firm "No, not until we had all returned from the conference." He intruded into Duo's personal space as far as possible, and Zechs firmly showed him the door before I had the chance to kill the pervert. We had two days to travel and prepare ourselves. Two stressfully busy days to secure the house, lock up the computers, pack our clothes, and re-test the decorative "dog collars" I had had made while still working at headquarters and had brought with me when I first arrived at the house. Each piece of neck wear was a brilliant marvel of technology. They contained the latest in sophisticated, waterproof, pressure-tolerant (up to 5 miles or zero gravity,) shockproof, miniaturized communication and surveillance equipment. The tags contained complex homing devices should one of us become separated from the rest. Once locked in place, only Lady Une, our commander, could remove them without damage using a unique device designed for that exclusive purpose. They could be cut and damaged, I suppose, but they were beautifully crafted. No one would purposely want to ruin a piece of art. At the back of the neck near the closure, hung a tag inscribed with our code names: Scythe, Sand, and Tamer. Since the inclusion of Wufei and I, instead of Edwards and Moore, meant that the name tags for us were incorrect; Zechs had ordered replacements. The new id tags with Wufei's and my code names arrived while we had been on the drug transfer mission. Zechs exchanged the former agents' name tags with "Wing" and "Shen." Even Zechs had one with the name "Wind," so that we were all linked for the show. A limousine arrived the next day to take us to the airport, where we boarded a private Lear jet. We were not told our destination or ETA, so we settled in for a long ride, taking turns on watch. Late afternoon turned to night then dawned bright. "That's Marrakech, Morocco," Winner announced as we entered our landing pattern. "You are pleased with this information?" I asked. "Yes! The Kingdom of Morocco is for the most part Arabic. So am I, although I look more like my mother, who was not dark. Not only is our location being transmitted through our collars by satellite to Commander Une, but, in my case, my self-proclaimed, personal bodyguards, the Maguanacs, are certainly tracking us too." He smiled my way. "They know this territory well, even though they were headquartered on L4 with my father. They have many, many contacts here." "The corps has proved to be highly capable in the past," I said, but I didn't return the smile. I didn't mind having them looking out for our welfare, even if it was Winner who was their primary concern. "They must not reveal themselves or your identity in their eagerness to assist." "Oh, no. They can be very discrete. I did tell them I was on a covert mission. I wouldn't mess this up due to an oversight like that." His tone was sharp and hurt. Hurt was good. He had hurt me, too. He had taken advantage of Duo's unbalanced state, put them both into a situation that would lead to sex between them, and introduced alcohol into the mix. Duo, I could forgive, but not Winner. I must as much into my stare as I could, which was enough for him to turn away flushed. From the private hanger we were escorted to a waiting limousine and from there we followed the Route to Casablanca, heading towards the outskirts of the city, approximately 10 kilometers to Octagon Earth, Resort and Spa. Sand, sun, sand, heat, sand, palm trees, sand, swimming pools. In the distance soared the snow-capped Atlas Mountains. For a moment, I pictured Duo, hair free, swimming exquisitely naked in a gigantic pool. We were not offered that choice immediately. Instead, on our arrival, hotel escorts met us and demanded "papers" from Zechs. When the weasel-faced character in charge of the guest list was satisfied that all was in order, he called for bellhops to carry our bags, wishing us all a lovely stay, as he turned his attention to the next arrivals. I noticed Duo picked up a couple of brochures from a rotating stand. He opened one and started to browse the pictures. As the bellhops led us with pasted-on smiles to our "conference villa," I read over his shoulder. "Surrounded by 12 acres of land, the resort was made up of several complexes." Apparently, our octagonal styled mansion was "one of seven, known as 'ryads' in traditional Moroccan style" grouped in the "conference villa," which was isolated from the other "villas". I immediately set out to identify the inmates of our neighboring villa mansions. I found many attractive boys and young men parading around in various states of undress. Exits were blocked by sturdy gates, guards, and alarms—no cameras, interestingly enough. It appeared that our "villa" housed all the attendees, sellers and products for the conference. When I returned to our mansion, it was empty. I found a note Duo left on a pair of swim trucks, presumably mine, accented with a cocktail stick: P O O L ! I stripped, yanked on the trunks, and dashed out the door. We were not alone. The pool was adorned with some of the other boys, more arriving all the time. Chang and I stood out, with our darker skins and hair. The others were mostly blond, red-haired, or, like Duo, streaked brown. No one had a braid like his. Or his eyes. Or smile. Or ass, which would someday be mine alone. I noted Zechs stretched out on a lounge chair nearby. His hair was wet, shimmering, so he had just gotten out of the water and sat down. He leaned closer to another man to his left, also lounging, in order to hear better over the piped-in music. I didn't know the other man, but guessed that it was another seller at his level in the boy-trade business supervising his merchandise chilling in the water. "Yo, Wing!" My attention riveted onto Duo, floating in an inner tube on his back, braid coiled on his chest, and surrounded by a fleet of eager-looking young men. My immediate thoughts were of our vacation, the snow tubing, and how winning Duo's love drove me to distraction. He waved and smiled, beckoning me to join him. I dove to meet him, wishing I'd gotten there sooner. I surfaced and bobbed behind a wall of male bodies, hidden from Duo's view. Winner, I recognized, was floating alongside Duo. His tube spun lazily, the sun glinting off his artificial red hair. Duo and I had not yet spoken about his Italian job. I had been gruff with him during the drug move, but I could never remain angry with Duo. Never. Besides, I had Winner to blame, and there he was-- unaware. (o) When we received that unexpected call from New Italy, I knew it was bad news. Undercover operatives rarely placed good-news calls. I hoped no one was injured and that the mission wasn't compromised. Barton had been disturbed by Winner's call; enough so that, after he passed the phone to Zechs, he refused to eat the dinner I had prepared. Neither of us were talkative men. We didn't take comfort in sharing our problems with just anyone, although I did with Duo and I'm sure Barton did to some extent with his lover. We had to fight our tendency to swallow our problems and grind away on them internally. We both had had to learn the skills from a professional in order to handle personal issues, which I was afraid this had turned into. "Zechs is talking to Winner or Duo. I know about that, but you spoke to them first. Did something happen?" "They are fine, Yuy. Zechs is giving them their orders." "Who called, Barton?" "Quatre." Okay, I wanted to be assured I hadn't missed a call from Duo; still, Barton was visibly upset. I noticed an edge to his voice. He always said Quatre' name in the French style, as did Winner, "Cah-truh," soft and round. Duo usually called his friend "Cat" or even the terrible construction "Catter." This time his lover's name rolled off his tongue in an angry spat. "There is something wrong. I need to know." "No, you don't." I wished his eyes were hidden by his former hair style, because the soulful gaze I got froze my blood. "Tell me." Barton declared that he was not shocked, but disappointed in his lover's infidelity. I could not believe what I heard. Sure, I knew Duo and Winner were close friends. But they had sex together! Barton was cut deeply, not that he would complain. The man thought he hardly rated in Winner's book as it was, and now he'd just had it confirmed. I could kill Winner for undermining the man's confidence, not that I needed much reason. Killing was my first option when I was searching for a solution to a problem. Obviously, I usually found others. I was no longer a killing machine, but not so long ago I was just that. At some point during the war, I noticed the growing friendship between Winner and Duo, "Maxwell" to me back then.. When it bothered me that Duo was closer to Winner than to me, I admitted my interest in Duo to myself. I envied them at first, but as my feelings toward Duo grew, I became jealous. When one day I overheard Quatre in a phone conversation with one of his many sisters confess his crush on his best friend, I knew I had to act or get out of the game. The war delayed my actions, scattering us all apart again. I had a job acting as Relena Peacecraft's bodyguard, but agreed to join the Preventers when I'd heard Duo had quit the junkyard and joined up. I did it solely to see Duo again. Unfortunately, Duo's junkyard partner, Hilde, and Winner both had joined Preventers as well. To top if off, Duo wasn't around much, always on solo missions of great danger. I wanted to partner with him, but Une paired me with Barton. It was either that or Winner, and I didn't want that close a proximity to the boy who could feel my emotions and was, to my view, my greatest competition. Unless it was Hilde, which would have put an end to all my expectations. I saw a psychologist and entered into regular therapy. I normalized once I discovered that silence was cheap, but talk was golden. I communicated with my partner at work, Barton, and convinced him to join me in counseling. We discovered we shared an important feature—we both were attracted to boys. I learned from Barton that he was enamored of Winner and thought Duo was very hot. Neither of them, he told me, seemed particularly attracted to girls, or boys either. I suggested he make his feelings toward Winner more obvious, making it clear that I wished to pursue Duo. He understood, and I noticed him spending more time hovering near Winner and Chang's office. Within the week, Winner asked him out! I was impressed with Winner's bold action, since he never openly dated anyone. My move was delayed for several months, while Duo left on an undercover assignment. Barton and I discussed a mutually beneficial solution and the next day proposed to Winner that he arrange an ex-Gundam pilot vacation as soon as Duo returned from action. That was the beginning of a new tradition. Commander Une's cooperation was critical. We needed time off, ostensibly as mental health days for us and Duo, and she agreed. Every time one of Duo's solo infiltration assignments was completed, Commander Une would notify me. Chang had Agent Po alert him immediately of Duo's condition when he arrived at the infirmary. Duo would always be injured and he would show up there before the dormitory. The rest of us would arrange coinciding vacations and invite Duo to join us. He always turned up, even if one of us had to pack his bags and stuff him and his things into the car. I needed Duo, but it seemed to me that he needed down time, not me, in his life. Barton disagreed and convinced me to pursue him more directly. Winner wasn't Duo's love interest, Barton said, but to convince me, he arranged Chang to take Duo on a long hike, while he made me sit and talk to Winner and him about my feelings. I revealed to Winner that I was gay and that I was attracted to Duo. I watched Winner's face carefully as they both listened. "Oh, Heero, that's wonderful!" he told me. "He really needs someone, but he's very good at hiding how he feels. Be his friend. Talk to him." "What about you? You're his friend." "Yes, we are close, but it's never been anything but just good friends." Knowing that their relationship was purely platonic was what I wanted most to hear. I think my relief was so strong Winner sensed it. His eyes grew wide and he stared at us both, although he lingered longest and last on Barton's face. Barton must have emoted his pleasure at the news, too; at least, in some way only Winner could read. Duo had been growing more detached, becoming increasingly affected by his covert missions and taking longer to come out of whatever role he'd been playing on the job at the start of each vacation. We were all worried; me most of all. We had survived the war, I was falling for Duo, and he was killing himself. I think I got through to him on the last summer vacation that I was not hell bent on killing everyone again and that I could be one of the gang. But the time was short. His next job took him away for six months. I couldn't wait for him to stabilize and have no time left in the vacation to seduce him. I had decided to make the snow retreat my official coming out to Duo party. Barton backed me up. So as not to muddy up my plans, he intended to inform Winner before the trip about how he felt, that he wanted Winner as his one and only love interest and that he wanted to "take their relationship to the next step." I didn't know there were steps, and I didn't ask which one he was on. I, obviously, was at step one. To get to step "sex with Duo" meant taking a leap of faith, and I was ready to jump. Well, that turned out to be the best decision in my life. Duo became my world, my lover, and promised to become my husband since then. This was fortunate since I had no mind to ever share Duo with any other person. Barton could and would, but he didn't have any hope in securing Winner's affections "for all time." Barton was willing to accept Winner on any terms, while I had to have Duo lock, stock, and barrel. I was Duo's first lover-then- and now I was just one of many. Zechs I was sure he'd slept with. He had been with Gunter. I'd had to watch them exchange blowjobs and I didn't know what else had gone on other times. Now, even Winner had had sex with my Duo the first opportunity they had to be alone. I was hurt. Barton was also. I knew he felt even less secure in his own relationship than I did in mine. Winner was God damned lucky Barton was attached to him or I might have killed him. I hated that crazy streak inside me. I never wanted Duo to know how close I came to falling to my baser instincts. No man should have that power or knowledge of another. "Too good to be true. I'm just waiting for Quatre to wake up some morning and wonder what he ever saw in me," Barton said. I could have told him, and did a few times, but some things a man just has to feel himself, and I had felt those things. "I have felt nothing but security with Duo—until now. Now my trust is shattered." "Maxwell's hot, Yuy. If he came on to me, as Scythe mind you, and I was drunk, I'm not sure I'd turn him down either. Listen; think of that guy as Scythe. Duo wouldn't sleep around. Scythe would." I kept that in mind, but it was difficult not tearing into the two men the moment I saw them in the shuttle loading bay. But when I found I was working alongside Shinigami again, I couldn't help but want to forgive him. We would have to talk, later. (o) I shook my head, water droplets flying into the annoyed faces of the other swimmers bouncing in the pool beside me. I glared back then ignored them. I was profoundly disturbed to discover the degree to which I had become more and more distracted. The mission had become secondary in my thoughts and priorities. Since Duo had entered my life, everything had dropped in importance to make room at the top for him, which was why his infidelity hurt me so deeply. Clearly, I was secondary to the UC mission in his mind. That was how it should be, I told myself, but it didn't have to be. Not for us any more. The mission parameters evaporated in the heat of the sun. I would get Duo to myself. Now. Now, yeah. I wished we had had that so-easy-to-put-off talk about what had occurred in New Italy, because seeing Winner floating a hand's width away from Duo made my blood boil. Here was where those hours of counseling came into play. I did not twist Winner's dyed head and break his neck, nor did I crush his scull in a blow. I dove under water, swam between legs, covering the short distance to my prey in seconds, and surfaced beneath his tube, pushing off with my feet while simultaneously shoving up against the tube. I found satisfaction in seeing Winner's flailing, sunburned body break the cool, hard surface of the water several feet away. His cry and screech "did me good," as Duo would say. Barton spotted me, but no one else did. When his eyes slid to Duo, I knew he was going to do the same thing to him. It was fair, so I made no move to stop him. I caught an instant of surprise on Duo's face as he registered he was next, and then a look of terror. Up and over he flew. I heard the splash and saw his loose tube twirling by a group of boys. "Find him!!" I swirled around, Winner's scream ringing in my ears. Exclamation points flew off him like drops of water off a shaking dog. "Duo!!! He can't swim!!" Winner screamed. He held a hand over one eye, which was odd. Maybe he was hurt. Barton's smile vanished, his face paled. "Scythe!" Barton corrected in a hiss, and then he dove under the water. I followed, cursing Winner for blowing the code names and cursing Duo for not telling me that very important piece of personal information. Another pool occupant rescued Duo, when he landed on his back and nearly strangled him in an effort to keep his head above water. I fought my way past other swimmers, triangulating a path to the side of the pool to join Duo and his savior. I observed the most impressive young man I'd ever laid eyes on as he carried my lover to the side of the pool, rolled him onto the decking, and climbed out beside him. So far, I had seen an assortment of young, fresh faces atop strikingly toned bodies, but this one guy, in particular, took my breath away. His body was unbelievable. Full, round, cut shoulders topped a body that tapered to a wasp-like waist. He was wearing a form-fitting deep blue shiny Speedo which hugged each muscular bulge and crevice with adoring intimacy. His upper body wasn't triangular so much as it was tetrahedral. His pecs were thick, solid slabs which extended down to the six-pack below them. His face was as stunning as his musculature. Short, ginger hair on top was ringed by a buzz cut in the military style. While his features were classic boy-next-door, he hadn't shaved that day, and the slight stubble gave him a rough edge that made my mouth water. I forgave the round-eyed, blank look on Duo's face. I probably looked just as stupid. A wave of chlorinated water washed over me. I shook my head, chasing away the worst of it. "D-d... Scythe?" I croaked, correcting his name at the last moment. "You okay?" "Y-yeah. I think I'll sit out the water fight, though." I turned my head in time to get another face full of water. I spit it out, catching my breath. "Go ahead, Wing. Work off some of that anger," he said. Duo was joking, I think, but it sounded like a great idea to me. Put a lot of rowdy, healthy teenage guys in a pool, start a ruckus, and you have chaos. I would go as far as saying that the most celebratory, stress relieving activity I had encountered in months occurred when I joined a sybaritic gang of boys in a masterful pool brawl. Refreshing. After that, the four of us had a talk; Chang acted as mediator and Zechs stayed the hell out of the way. I hadn't known Duo couldn't swim. No standing water on L2, Duo said. Learning to swim had been part of my training, I said defensively. Wufei was so fast a swimmer that he could have competed in the L5 competitions, had he not become a Gundam pilot. I doubted his exaggerated assessment of his abilities, but said nothing. Trowa swam in lakes. Sink or swim, yuh know? Yes. Quatre had formal lessons from the age of five, which included diving from a 50 ft platform into an Olympic-sized pool, and lost a green-tinted contact today in the pool - thanks to me—and would have to go blue-eyed. I was non-apologetic. Duo was embarrassed, and, frankly, I didn't care. He should have told me, ME, that he couldn't swim. Why was it that Winner knew and not me, I asked? This returned us to the Winner family estate, its Olympic-sized pool, and Duo's stays there, which I dismissed, not wanting to hear about any glorious Duo and Winner moments. "So, Yuy, why did you pick on Winner and start it all?" Chang asked. Direct and to the point. Thanks, Chang. I aimed a glare toward the guilty party, and he dipped his head. Oh, he knew all right. What I wanted to know was what Duo's feelings were for Quatre, but couldn't ask, so Barton did for me. It was a kindness I valued. Barton wasn't confident in his relationship, but he was tired of the tension. Even though his boyfriend would be easier to pacify after this discussion than Duo would be for me, I guessed, I knew that it was very difficult for Barton to cause an outright confrontation. He preferred to keep his private matters private. Then again, it could be that Barton was a braver man than I, knowing that the air had to be cleared for the mission to continue. He was not so stupid as to blindly step into the fire, but he could jump through the Rings of Fire, couldn't he? "So sex between friends is okay these days?" Barton asked, a wry twist entering his tone. "I get confused about what's acceptable, new-age ethos." It was Chang who reacted badly. "What! What are you suggesting?" "Chill, 'Fei." Duo rose to the occasion. "In his roundabout way, Tro' is alluding to something that happened in Italy, which the ticking bomb over there," he said, pointing a thumb at me, "took out on Quat." Chang looked baffled. Winner's eyes were large and sorrowful. Barton's expression was indecipherable. "I had reasons," I said. "Yeah, okay. I'll tell the story to get this over with." Duo scratched his head and drew his breath, while collecting his thoughts. "Quatre and I got smashed after a nasty day with the art goons and got each other off to relieve stress. Friends can do that under duress, adult friends. Never happened before and I doubt it will ever happen again. End of discussion." "Quatre doesn't drink, ordinarily," Barton began. "Well—" "Got...off...?" Chang sputtered. A thunderous pounding on a door a room away interrupted the conversation. We held this meeting our suite sitting room, the only place with any amount of privacy without a bed, but there was no door to the outside. Chang flew out of his chair looking happy to be doing anything besides listening to us. "I'll see who that is," he said. "How is he?" roared a large, Middle Eastern man, who towered over Chang's slender form. His thick, black eyebrows looked like dancing caterpillars above a face covered with a matching thick, black beard. "This visit is not necessary," Chang said, while attempting to check the bigger man's progress into the room. "Rashid!" Winner cried out. "It's okay everybody. This is Rashid, the leader of the Maguanacs Corps. I'm fine, really. I just got wet and it was all fun in the sun. Now, for introductions, you already know Duo and Trowa. That's our friend Wufei Chang at the door and this is Heero Yuy. Um, but you must call us by our code names: Scythe, Tamer, Shen, Wing, and Mr. Peacecraft is Wind." "You are sunburned, Mr. Sand," Rashid said disapprovingly. "I have lotions..." Winner began. I interrupted. "Are there more of your corps here, then?" "Yes, Mr. Wing, about twelve in this building alone. We have removed many of the staff and substituted our most esteemed selves." His smile showed lots of teeth. "Others are on standby for when we leave." "The other employees are bound to notice," Chang said. "Of course, but a little money, it fades the memory," Rashid replied then chuckled, deep, low, and rumbling like a storm beyond the horizon. "I will sleep much better tonight knowing you are here," Winner told him. I agreed. The Maguanacs Corps was devoted to Winner and, thankfully, to his friends. If anyone could be trusted to assist and extract us from his complex of buildings, it would be them. I wasn't about to trust Edwards back at headquarters. He probably wanted Chang dead by now, after having to fulfill his debts to Dorothy Catalonia. We discussed our situation. Rashid knew which rooms were ours. The room we currently were in opened into our sleeping quarters to one side and Zechs' private sitting room on the other. The sitting room led into a grand bedroom exclusively for Zechs. Ours was large with individual beds set into semi-private alcoves. I hated the arrangement. We were hemmed in with no exits, not even windows. Only Zechs had direct access to the out-of-doors through his sitting room. It reinforced the master-servant arrangement far too well. "The door from the master sitting room is steel, reinforced with Gundanium. No one can enter without a key. I had Habib replace the door locks earlier. The only ones with a key are you, and myself." Rashid handed us each our key to our tiny kingdom, lorded over by Prince Zechs. Winner received two keys. "This is for Master Wind, when he returns." He stood with his feet apart, arms akimbo, and recited, "We will be here and we will be there. Always watching, always near—" "So, we should never, never fear?" Duo added with a nervous chuckle. "Or is it 'we even watch your pretty rear'?" "Ah, ha, ha!" Rashid laughed. He wiped an eye and grinned, his gold eye-tooth glittering under the lamplights. "The Maguanacs theme ends with 'Our vigilance has no peer.' Ha, ha! But I shall take your suggestions under advisement, Mr. Scythe." He was gone before Zechs returned. We took turns showering, Winner being last. He left Zechs' shower room just as the man walked in. After an awkward moment, where the two danced around one another, Zechs told him to dress up. The two of them were going to dinner together. The rest of us were eating in. "Why?" Duo demanded to know. "Because Sand has poise, excellent manners, and intelligent table conversation I can count on to be appropriate and diplomatic. It is not something I can teach." "Oh, gods..." Duo groaned. "Don't give me that 'gotta be bred into the boy' garbage." "All right, I won't. I meant that I haven't the time or the patience to instruct any of you. Go on, please, Sand. We have twenty minutes until seating." "Okay," Winner said obediently. He was a good soul, I had to admit. Duo was pissed, though. He hated being left out, particularly if he perceived that it might be due to his deprived background. He had a real inferiority complex that way. I could feel the resentment radiating off him. So could Chang, who stepped in before Duo exploded. "He is not inviting me either, and I was raised a scholar in an honored clan," Chang said matter-of-factly. "I accept that our friend is a better choice for a partner at what I assume will be a tense, stuffy, and dull dinner party." "Yeah, guess you're right there. I don't do too well in a repressive atmosphere. Real appetite killer." I made a mental note to myself to thank Chang later for diffusing my volatile boyfriend. Now I owed both Barton and Chang. I wondered what I could do to repay my friends. The note was a short one, because Zechs dashed back into the room, buttoning up a fresh shirt, jarring my thoughts. "Nine o'clock we will be back here. Everyone is to be present for cataloging. Yes, like shoes or hats, only this is tagging and grouping you. You are presented and have your photos shot for inclusion in a brochure to the buyers. Those that miss this are out of the running. Period. Some of these boys have been here all week; Gunter got us in past the preliminaries just on his word alone of how good you all are." "Aren't we lucky," Trowa muttered. "How do we dress?" I asked. "Sexy, in suits; your best, I'd say." "So, do we have an itinerary for what's up tomorrow?" Duo asked. "We get it tonight, but from what I've heard, there is a swimsuit competition—" Barton snorted. Wufei opened his mouth to protest, recognized it for a joke, and let out a long sigh. Duo and I shared smiles. "Also, a firearms exhibition of some kind. I assume that is where you demonstrate your knowledge of weapons as well as your fighting skills. I expect Wing and Shen to make up for any wrongly-assumed deficits in their Asian heritage by stellar performances in those areas. These buyers are very, very much biased toward the fair-haired, fair-skinned male." Chang looked smugly confident and I hid my emotions. The gorgeous Atlas in the pool would be a hard act to beat if he could fire a gun as good as he looked. Zechs didn't look overly confident either. He appeared drawn and harried. "Later, the buyers get a chance to check out the merchandise up close, but I don't know when or how that is accomplished so don't ask. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to finish getting dressed." A few minutes later, Zechs and Winner were ready for their dinner date. "Do I look okay?" Winner asked his lover. He seemed nervous in his attempt to reestablish his close relationship with Barton, who was still quietly chafing over Winner's dalliance with Duo. "Without the green contacts, am I recognizable?" "I'd know you anywhere. I know every mark, mole, and hair on your body." He lightly ran his hand through the red hair, pushing it aside and revealing an ear. He leaned in and whispered something secret, making Winner smile and causing the blood to rise past his collar all the way to his scalp. I turned away from the intimate scene. Duo caught me watching them and smiled faintly. Zechs entered the room, and I cleared my throat to get both men's attention. I reminded him to activate the monitoring devices they were wearing. "Remember to trigger the recording device before you enter the room. We can monitor the feed in here." "Preventers home office is recording all the transmissions?" Zechs asked. "Yes, they have the data storage facilities for satellite transmissions from all over the world and the colonies." I continued, "We can monitor the transmissions as they happen from the laptop, but are unable to store any of it. It's too dense a format, so we can't review past transmissions." "Okay, good, Wing. Sand, you're ready? Okay, remember, boys, nine o'clock we'll stop back to collect you; be ready to go." "What about our dinner?" Duo asked. "Being delivered any time now," Zechs said. He placed his palm on the small of Winner's back and gently steered him out the door. The door closed behind them with a loud click. The room-delivery food was delicious; the dinner party was the same food but with the unwelcome addition of a stomach-clenching undercurrent of malice, deceit, and innuendo. I was glad to have missed it. It was bad enough to watch the feeds. Over lamb kabobs and rice pilaf, I listened to the voice-over of a loud man, a master seller, seated to Winner's far side. His voice had been sounding all the along, jabbering on about the price of housing and feeding his stable of boys. From the camera hidden in Zechs' collar, I watched Winner fight a yawn, while simultaneously from Winner's camera, Zechs was wearing the vacant expression of the stupid, the insane, or the man whose thoughts are miles away. He wasn't really listening either. At half-past eight, we cleaned up and dressed for success: ties lose, buttons left unbuttoned suggestively, pushed up sleeves, mussy hair. It was a lot more work to look carelessly put together, than to appear perfectly well-groomed. Wufei had fewer problems fitting in than I would have guessed. When I complemented him, he told me he knew about the dating scene, and that women liked sexy-looking men just as much as-- he stumbled over just what to call the rest of us, sticking to "gay men" and playing it safe. Obviously, that was the way it was supposed to work. Men attracted women, married, reproduced. I'd been so out of the norm that I forgot the current situation wasn't. No wonder Duo lost himself in UC work. We dutifully followed after Zechs when he and Winner returned to collect us. The mood was subdued, even Duo, understanding how important being admired and desired was, walked out the door solemn-faced. To discover the identities of the men at the top of the organization, we had to attract them and get them to place offers for our purchase. We were not alone. Other prospects were filing into the hallways leading to the grand hall. Most appeared nervous, unsure of their future, some showed white-faced, fear, and a few strutted with self-assurance, false or not. Barton's face reflected no emotion, but he squeezed Winner's shoulder as we rounded a corner. Winner looked pale but calm. Chang's brows were drawn in a scowl that matched mine, I'm sure. Zechs nodded grimly to other suppliers with which he had become familiar. Duo alone suddenly appeared animated by good cheer. He wore his game face, grinning and chattering to me or anyone he passed as if he hadn't a care in the world. I returned a smile and the warmth in his eyes fired my soul. We could do this.
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