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"The Wedding Planner"Written By: Snowdragonct Disclaimer: Don't own any part of Gundam Wing or the characters, more's the pity. This is for fun...no profit involved. Warnings: AU, yaoi, some OOC, angst, potential lemon(s), sickening sappy fluff Pairings: to be announced, or it’d be too easy (but you know who I like) A/N: This idea hit me while I was driving somewhere, and I needed to start it before the inspiration faded. But it will take second place to Boot Camp and the sequel to Boot Camp, so I can’t promise regular or frequent updates. It’s probably totally predictable FLUFF, so you have been warned. And I’m trying out the world of first-person here, with point of view shifting between Heero and Duo (maybe others…not sure yet). Rating: NC 17 Summary: Heero isn't thrilled when Relena hires
someone to plan their wedding, but once he meets the young man, he's
downright unhappy. Duo Maxwell is friendly, good looking, and spending
way too much time with Relena...Heero's jealousy knows no bounds.
"The Wedding Planner"
Chapter Thirty Six: Forgiveness Duo’s Point of View Quatre had seen me on the phone, and had that irritatingly knowing look in his eyes as he and Trowa joined me in the patio area of the bar. “Who were you so deep in conversation with, Duo?” I gave him a steady glare. “A client,” I said with deliberate vagueness. “On a Saturday night?” “You know me,” I grinned wickedly. “Work, work, work.” He snorted at that, handing me a drink. “Here. Trowa taught the bartender a new mixture—thought you’d like a taste—minus the alcohol.” I took it without any of my usual sarcasm. Considering what the next day was, it would have been sheer folly for me to have so much as a nightcap. “You still up for Seattle tomorrow?” Quatre asked, picking up on my pensive mood at once. “Yeah—I suppose it’s time for me to forgive Alex,” I sighed. The next day would mark exactly two years since Alex had died. I hadn’t mentioned it to Heero, because whenever I talked about my fiancés, I could practically feel the pity the subject seemed to evoke from him. Each year following Solo’s death, I’d gone to visit his cemetery plot. I hadn’t done it for Alex, for two reasons. The first was that last year I’d been in rehab, and hadn’t been able to leave. The second was that at the time, I hadn’t quite gotten over blaming Alex for leaving me. He’d died saving a family of four from a burning building. I knew it was his job—it was part of who he was—but when it took him from me less than a week before our wedding, I hated it and him. And a year later I was a long way from forgiving him for choosing that stupid family over me. For some reason—my psychiatrist seemed to understand it better than I did—I took it very personally that he hadn’t held back and been more careful. I felt like he should have thought of me and what losing him might do to me, rather than the strangers stranded several stories up in a burning apartment. By the time I got out of rehab, I’d come to terms with my loss. But I wasn’t much closer to forgiving Alex. No matter how many fond thoughts I had of him, there was an underlying anger that kept me from acknowledging the approaching anniversary until Quatre confronted me with it on the way to New York. He’d rather peremptorily informed me he’d scheduled us to fly to Seattle on the way back from the bachelor party so that I could visit Alex’s grave. I’d put up a protest, until I realized I was just trying to avoid the pain it would cause. I wasn’t really angry any more, no matter how hard I tried to be. It would’ve been easier to stay mad at Alex, to try to hold the loneliness at bay. But it wouldn’t have been fair to him, either. “Yeah, it is time,” Quatre replied, sipping his drink and leaning back against Trowa. “I know how hard it was for you to lose him. Almost as hard as it was for me to watch you go through it for the second time.” His aquamarine eyes were soft, but uncompromising. “On the other hand, Alex couldn’t help what he was. You knew you were marrying a firefighter. You knew the risks.” “I thought I did.” “For Allah’s sake, you were an EMT,” my friend pointed out. “You saw the dangers he faced. It’s not like he lied to you about it.” “I know that!” I said a little too sharply. “I just—wish he could have—.” “—have what? Let that family die, rather than go back up there to get them out?” Quatre shook his head. “Do you think you could have loved him if he did less than his best? If he let three kids and their mother die, just so he could be with you?” “Nothing could have made me stop loving him,” I retorted. “But he’d never have forgiven himself if that family had died because he was too selfish to risk his life for them.” My eyes were starting to tear up, and I looked at Trowa beseechingly, hoping he’d make Quatre just let the matter drop. I’d already agreed to go to Seattle and I really didn’t want to have a deep, philosophical discussion about Alex’s obligations and motivations, and my own selfish wish that he was still here with me. “Quatre,” Trowa murmured obligingly, slipping an arm around the blonde’s waist. “I think Duo gets it,” he said gently. “And he’s agreed to go. How about just being glad for that, hm?” “Oh, Trowa…” Quatre buried his face on the bartender’s shoulder, muffling his apology. “Duo, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up so many sad memories.” “You didn’t,” I told Quatre flatly. “I managed that all on my own, like I always do. You know that.” “I do. And I’m hoping that going to Seattle will be good for you…help you gain a little peace.” “I’m sure it will,” I sighed, wishing there was something just a little stronger in that fruity mixture I was drinking.
But for Alex, I couldn’t seem to string two words together. Instead, I found my mind replaying the events surrounding his death. I’d been on duty the night Alex died. My ambulance had been one of many called in to take horribly injured people to the local hospitals. There’d been dozens of victims, their injuries ranging from smoke inhalation to varying degrees of burns. Alex wasn’t the only one who died that night. But he was the only one I’d planned my future around. They actually weren’t able to get Alex and several of his co-workers out of the rubble until the next morning…by which time I was numb with exhaustion…long-since off duty, but hovering near the rescue workers waiting for news. I suppose I should have thanked two of Alex’s friends who held me back when they finally brought his body out. But I didn’t. I’d screamed and cursed and gotten so hysterical I’d ended up sedated and shoved into a waiting ambulance myself. When I came to in the hospital, Quatre was there holding my hand and murmuring reassurances that fell on pretty much deaf ears. And now, two years later to the day, I was standing by that damned head stone, lost for words, while rain slowly soaked through the thick jacket I was huddled in. “Thought I might find you here today.” I spun around to find Alex’s brother Dan standing holding an umbrella. He’d walked up so quietly I hadn’t heard a thing. I mustered a wan smile and held out a hand. “Long time.” Dan ignored the hand and wrapped his free arm around me in a comforting hug. “Too long,” he said gently. “Yeah, well…I never quite made it to being family,” I reminded him. “You did,” he countered. “The minute Alex invited you in.” Fuck! He was gonna make me cry if he kept that up. One of the perks of marrying Alex would have been becoming part of a rather large family. He had three brothers and two sisters…aunts and uncles coming out his ears…and even a grandparent or two still alive. Not that all of them were keen on his chosen “lifestyle,” but most had come to accept me as a permanent fixture in Alex’s life, and they loved him enough to be kind to me for his sake. Of all of them, Dan had been the most supportive. He’d almost single-handedly held me up through Alex’s funeral. With him on one side, and Quatre on the other, I’d made it through the hardest day of my life. It wasn’t until a few weeks later that it all closed in on me and I started drinking to try to forget. I pushed back to arm’s length, looking up at Dan and thanking my lucky stars he looked only a little like the man I’d loved so much. “You look good.” “Thanks. We’re all doing okay. Took awhile, but everyone’s pretty much adjusted to life without him.” His dark eyes searched mine. “How ‘bout you?” “It’s still—hard,” I admitted rather reluctantly. “I imagine so,” came the sympathetic response. Dan looked at the dripping stone, his face somber. “Mom thought about calling you at Thanksgiving…to see if you were interested in coming up.” I shook my head quickly. “Tell her thanks. But—I couldn’t.” He smiled understandingly. “Maybe some day?” “Maybe,” I conceded, not wanting to tell him flat out that I’d never come. But I knew I wouldn’t. And I think, deep down, he knew it too. That part of my life was something I’d worked hard to put in the past. Hanging around with the family I’d almost married into would just drag out the pain for me. “I’ll at least try to write,” I offered—a sort of compromise. I thought I was strong enough now to at least keep in touch. “I’ll make sure he does,” came Quatre’s voice, as he and Trowa strolled up to join us. Dan’s face lit up. “Quatre Winner! Good to see you too.” He shook the blonde’s hand. “Dan Woods—Trowa Barton,” Quatre said, nodding towards his auburn-haired boyfriend. Dan shook Trowa’s hand, giving him a warm smile. “Nice to meet you.” He glanced from Trowa to me, but then saw how close the bartender stood to Quatre and apparently figured out who he was actually with. “So you dragged Duo up here?” he asked knowingly of Quatre. “We had a flight today…so I thought a short detour was in order,” came the diplomatic response. “Duo needed to come,” he added simply. “Thanks.” I shuffled my feet restlessly, beginning to feel cold from the rain that had soaked into my jacket before Dan arrived with his umbrella. “How’s everyone anyway?” I asked quietly. “All good. Peter graduated from high school. Elise got engaged. Joan had another baby.” He shrugged. “Just another year in the life of the Woods family, y’know?” I nodded. “I’m glad everyone’s okay.” “They’ll be glad to hear the same about you.” Dan’s gaze had traveled back to the head stone, and he cleared his throat slightly. “Go find someone, Duo,” he said abruptly. “You shouldn’t be here alone.” His glance took in my two companions, but I knew what he meant. “Alex wouldn’t have wanted you to be alone.” “Then he should have stayed alive,” I said bitterly, suddenly unable to deal with the whole thing. I turned and walked quickly away, before Dan could try to say more, and before I could really fall apart in front of him. I know he was right. Alex, of all people, knew how much love meant to me. He knew how I liked just being with him…whether we were talking or laughing or just eating breakfast and reading the paper. It was the feeling of wholeness I craved. And honestly, I thought eventually I might find it again. But standing in that rainy cemetery right then just made the emptiness too big to handle. I felt better once I was in the car, safely away from people, conversation, and any discussion of what Alex would have wanted for me. Quatre slid in the back next to me moments later, while Trowa got in the driver’s seat. “I’m sorry,” I sighed. “I just couldn’t take any more right then, y’know?” “You did fine,” Quatre assured me, sliding an arm around my waist and giving me a reassuring squeeze. “Dan understood. He said to wish you the best.” Ah, but I’d already had that and lost it. “Speaking of the best,” Quatre continued as Trowa started up the car and headed for the airport. “You must be just about done with the Peacecraft arrangements, right?” “Yeah,” I said, relieved at the subject change. “Now if only the bride and groom can get their heads and asses wired together…” Preferably before I’m tempted to make a play for him… “Why?” “Aw, she’s been pissy with him, and he’s started to realize how whipped he is and that he needs to put his foot down.” I grinned at my boss. “But he’s finding out she doesn’t like being reined in.” “Sounds like they need professional help,” Trowa interjected. “Naw, they got me,” I replied glibly. “I told Heero to treat his lady to a nice day off. They can talk out some of their issues and maybe rekindle the flame a bit.” Yeah, that stung. As attracted as I was to Heero, I was playing middle man for him and Relena. I’m sure Heero had no idea what it cost me to urge him to plan that day of fun. While every fiber of my being was screaming at me to tell him to ditch the bitch and run off with me, I’d had to grit my teeth and coach him on how to romance his fiancée. Quatre graced me with a sidelong glance. “That’s pretty nice of you Duo; giving romantic advice to the guy you’d like to jump in bed with.” I shot him a deadly look. “Goddamnit, Quat—!” “Just kidding!” He teased, but with a glimmer of concern in the soft blue eyes. “Sheesh.” He exchanged one of those knowing glances with Trowa in the rearview mirror, that made me want to smack him. I sighed, closing my eyes. “Look, Quatre—stop reading into my friendship with Yuy, okay? Sure, he’s hot. And he’s a really interesting, smart guy. If he were gay, I’d be all over him in a heartbeat. But he’s not. And he’s with someone. You know me better than to think I’d try to break up someone else’s relationship.” “I know, Duo,” he said gently. “I guess I’m just a little overprotective.” I snorted at that, glancing at the back of Trowa’s head. “Me too.” I gave the bartender a mock glare in the mirror. “You better treat my friend right.” “He does,” Quatre cooed, leaning forward and patting his tall, slender lover on the shoulder. Trowa glanced back with an absolutely burning affection in his deep green eyes. “Always,” he promised quietly. I couldn’t help wondering if they’d let me
do their wedding planning, when the time came. Yeah, I’d gone
from thinking “if” to thinking “when” where Trowa
and Quatre were concerned. It sure looked like the real thing to me.
Now if I could just find my own “real thing.” tbc... |
