Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. And these short stories are not meant to be great, they're just meant to be fluff. Whatever I'm thinking in passing. I wrote it in fifteen minutes.

Title: The Big 2-1

By: Maxwell-Yuy

Pushing overcooked lasagna around his plate, Duo sat in the Preventers Cafeteria with one elbow propped up on the table, head in hand, thinking about how wrong it was for tomato sauce to be sweet. He didn't hear his friends talking, or the questions directed his way.

But then he was forked in the arm.

"Argh!" He turned to his offender. "What gives, Quatre?"

"I was asking you a question."

"So?"

The blonde gave him the 'you've lost your mind' look, and raised an eyebrow. "I was asking you for five whole minutes!"

"Oh." Well, that was news. He looked at the others sitting with them and was met with a mixture of annoyed and amused glares from the other ex-gundam pilots. "So, uh, what's up?"

Quatre held up his fork, ready in case Duo decided not to answer. "What are you doing tonight?"

Perplexed, Duo gave Quatre a searching look. "Why?" When the fork advanced on him, he put up his hands in defense. "Hey! Watch it!" The fork steadied. "It's a Tuesday, Quat. I'm finishing my cases and I'm going home. What the hell else would I be doing?" He looked to the others for some kind of approval.

Lowering the fork and placing it back on the table, Quatre looked a little concerned and surprised. "Don't you know what day it is?"

When the others wore similarly surprised expressions, Duo began to panic. What did he forget? He couldn't remember making any plans. No major cases were pending and due before midnight. It wasn't a holiday. He didn't know of any events going on in the city he should attend. The movie he'd been waiting to see wouldn't be at the Arts Theater until Friday.

Duo was stumped. "I really don't know. It's, you know, TUESDAY."

Quatre smacked his forehead. Heero rolled his eyes. Trowa shook his head. Wu-Fei sighed. Duo looked terrified. "What?" he yelled in a panic, "what the hell am I missing here?"

"It's your freakin' birthday, Maxwell!" exclaimed an irritated chinese boy from across the table.

Duo took in a sharp breath, ready to contradict his friend's claim, only to hold his breath as he thought. After a moment, his brow furrowed and he tilted his head. "Well what do you know? It is my birthday!"

"You're twenty-first birthday," Trowa clarified.

"Huh," continued Duo, "I guess it is. Hey! Thanks for telling me!" With that, he stabbed a piece of his lasagna and put it in his mouth with a determination that all but said the conversation was over.

It wasn't over.

"Aren't you going to do something?" Quatre asked. "I figured you'd have plans. If I'd known you wouldn't, I'd have kept my schedule free. But I've got a business dinner with one of the board members from WEI."

Duo gave a half smile and threw an arm around his friend. "Aw, it's okay, Quat."

"No! It's not okay!" Quatre's anger scared Duo's arm away. "We've celebrated everyone's birthdays, even Heero's twenty-first had a party! You can't just do nothing!"

Duo was almost speechless. Almost. "Well it's not like we've never done it before. I mean, everyone here is older than me, I've been to my fare share of drunken mayhem parties."

"Do you hate your birthday? I don't recall us ever celebrating it."

That was the first time Heero had added his two cents to the conversation. Duo suddenly felt like a cornered animal. "No," he said, "I don't hate it per say. I've just had a string of crappy birthdays. And I've had three different ones! One with the gang, one with the church, and one with you guys. But every time it's either been downright shitty, the middle of a war, or some crazy mission gone wrong. I've been arrested, shot, sick, stuck in enemy territory, unconscious, kicked out onto the street, attending a funeral... you name it: if it sucks, I've spent my birthday doing it. So I just figure if I plan on nothing and don't tell anyone, maybe don't even remember myself, then it should be a nice, quiet day. It'll be the best birthday ever."

Everyone was glaring at him.

"That's the dumbest logic I've ever heard."

"Avoidance is weakness."

"Baka."

"Only you..."

Owch.

Duo swallowed a lump in his throat. He desperately wanted to leave, and realized that lunch would be over shortly. Thank goodness.

"Trowa is going with me to the meeting, but Wu-Fei and Heero could spend the evening with you."

Ah, how Quatre always wanted to make things right. And his definition of 'right' was whatever he thought was best.

"I have to go over some reports," Wu-Fei said with some regret. "Une's strict on her deadlines, and there's a debriefing in the morning."

When Heero said he was free, Duo's heart skipped. Spending the night with his best friend would be the best birthday gift ever. The last time they spent his birthday together was via closed-circuit communication while Duo was stuck undercover infiltrating an arms deal. That was a record setting birthday. It didn't go down as planned, and he had to shoot his way out before backup arrived. He spent that birthday undercover, in enemy territory, shot, unconscious, on the operating table, in the hospital, and ultimately with his friends. But as far as spending quality time with Heero, it didn't really count.

"How about dinner at Sakura's?" Heero had a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I'll meet you there at seven?"

Duo smiled. "Sounds great."

-------

He tapped his knife against the table. It wasn't like Heero to be late. Thirty whole minutes late. He'd have to add a new entry on his list of crappy things to happen on his birthday: getting stood up on a date. Not that it was a romantic date, but it was a dinner date nonetheless.

He signaled the waiter, who looked sympathetic, and paid for his drink before leaving. Part of him hoped Heero would show up just as he was leaving, and save the day like he'd saved Earth so many times before. But when it came to Heero, Duo was first and foremost rational. Heero wouldn't be racing around the corner calling his name and apologizing. He simply wouldn't be there at all.

What should have been a nice evening at home with a small home-cooked meal and a good book ended up a severely disappointing night. It had been a while since he and Heero had spent any time together outside of the office. He'd been looking forward to it. Lesson learned: don't get your hopes up.

By this time he was just depressed enough to not want to go home. Passing his car, he decided to take a walk around the city. Twilight was settling in, tucking away the sun and making room for the moon. And he loved the city at night. He 'walked the earth,' as Solo once put it, turning wherever and leisurely strolling along. He was sad, but found a solace in his melancholy that contented him.

By the time he got to his apartment building it was nearly 2:00 in the morning. His alarm would be going off to usher him to work in four hours. Pausing at the base of the stairs, he pulled out his cell phone and let out a heavy sigh. Heero never even called. But still, it was the best birthday he could remember. He was in one piece, even though his heart felt a little broken.

He turned his key in the lock and opened the door, flicking on the light-switch nearby that turned on the living room lights. He gasped.

In his living room were four sleeping ex-gundam pilots, lying in odd places wherever there was a sofa or chair. His coffee table had various bottles of alcohol, some of which were opened, which explained the glasses by each sleeping young man. In the joined dining room he saw his first ever birthday cake, resting with unlit candles and slightly sloppy, melted frosting. There were four packages neatly wrapped and stacked behind it, and some balloons tied to the back of a chair that were sagging a little from loss of helium.

He smiled faintly. They wanted to surprise him, and he'd gone and ruined it by spending the night 'walking the earth.' But it was still the nicest thing anyone had done for him in a long time. And Heero hadn't stood him up after all. It warmed his heart.

Ever the stealth agent, he turned off the lights and silently made his way down the hall to the linen closet. He pulled out spare blankets, and one by one covered his friends. He then went to his room, returning with his own blanket, and curled up on a chair in the corner. Looking over at his friends, he cuddled into the chair and pulled a corner of the blanket up to his face in a light embrace.

It was the best birthday ever.