Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing and its characters
Warning: unedited, unbetaed and an author in serious need to rid of writer's block
Pairing: 1x2 (and 3x4 if you squint); but may also be taken as gen.

Hello and Good bye

Heero liked working alone. It gave him closure. No one would be compromised. No one would slow him down. If he did work in a team he would be the one choosing its members. No one else. Not even Une.

His freelancing for the Preventers helped him get through the legalities of normal life (i.e. money since he refused to hack the school database for his fake payments. Although cheating the enrollment process was inevitable). However he didn't like being called to a job at all. Admittedly the pay was generous considering it was from the tax payers but he had been doing fine with the multiple part time jobs. What's with cutting most of his classes anyway? College was merely a routine but he didn't illusion himself to not need it. Unless he gave in to the requests of his "war buddies", as Duo had so adequately put, to come back to arms, a degree in something was the only way to keep his head up.

Speaking of the idiot, the contract with the Preventers was completely his to blame. Devil's luck be damned, Heero was already tucked away safely in Osaka when the idiot bounded in the hardware store he worked in. Well what do you know? It didn't take long before Wufei hounded him down with an offer as well. He loathed the transfer process as much as the next wanderer but with high school graduation being not far off the mission would be compromised. So he stuck until the few months before he shook them off his back. Except, no one could escape Sally's amazing tracking skills once sighted. Space colonies would be the best way to go. L1 was a definite no, and L2 was just too tricky but the most probable. Keep your enemies close as they say. To his astonishment, even he couldn't shake off that stupid luck of the braided American. Duo found him again in a restaurant too posh to have been there in wartime. It was a heart warming moment really - just the two of them, a candlelit dinner, a rose tucked into each other's breast pocket. Heero had one word for Duo before he scurried off for a resignation. "Fuck." Stupid, horrendous, unbelievably lucky idiot. Don't back off now. It's an endearment, you fools.

So after much resistance, Heero was again working freelance for the Preventers. He was only betting on losing them after his degree. Historians tended to get lost, you know.

On one of his earlier assignments, a realization came to him. He had never seen Duo wear the Preventers uniform. Not even when he was prancing in the halls of the facility. Much interrogation was needed. The result: Duo didn't work as a Preventer. The pilot of 02 went back to being a Sweeper aka Supplier. Heero wanted to strangle himself. It was unfair that everyone had been out for the "Perfect Soldier" when no one was coaxing the God of Death himself. Some Perfect Soldier he was for. Sighted twice by the same person. Shot twice by the same person.

With that enlightening day he left the complex, gave Zechs more reports to fill and stalked off to his favorite circus boy. Trowa was by far the best listener he had. Not that he kicked any buckets or punched holes on the ground like some brat who needed some serious counseling but they had an understanding of sorts. Trowa didn't have to but he knew things at the onset. It wasn't the same with Quatre and his empathic abilities. It was more that Trowa can place himself in your shoes and if he didn't there was no need to pretend he did. In retrospect he just wanted to get back at Une for not telling him. Burning government money was so fun sometimes.

By the time he was about to return to L2, Trowa finally spoke up on the issue. "Heero, you're being irrationally competitive, and you never asked before."

Heero bit back the "No I'm not" comment but Quatre must be rubbing of on the tall boy. "Okay, so you're blind. First Relena, now Duo. Damn Yuy give them a break." Owlishly Heero blinked at clown. Did he ever mention that he really hated clowns when he was a kid? They never gave him balloons.

Now that he thought about it, why hadn't he looked Duo up after their run in the restaurant? Oh right. He had been content to see him every Monday morning, Tuesday evening and Friday noon. They couldn't sue him for setting up a schedule that coincided with Duo's. It was his only free time after all. Then again it also made sense why Duo was an unavailable option for the team in the two times he'd needed one.

His stay with Trowa lasted much longer than anyone, himself included, expected. Everyone thought he'd dropped of the planet. Again. Somehow he wasn't surprised to find his apartment open. Opened with the spare key no less. Making as much noise as he could for some sordid glee, he could almost smell fear, anger and resentment there. Whoever it was didn't want to get caught but obviously found no way out. Arrogance aside he cocked his gun ready and aimed. Frankly he could be hanged for treason, aiming at the Vice Foreign Minister like that, but he'd have her first for invasion of privacy. He couldn't quite place why he was disappointed - was that a wanting for someone to welcome him? No way. Not in this life.

"We really thought you were gone."

He'd worried Relena. Comforting her would be hard. Wordlessly he put down the gun and made some tea. "I've- Duo and I have been really worried about you."

Grunting, Heero offered her a seat. "I can take care of myself."

Taking the proffered seat Relena answered, "We know, Heero. We know..." Truth and sadness mixed in that statement. Whether it meant more than it should have Heero didn't feel particularly inquiring. The visit ended as soon as Pagan called her in. Important girl that she was, free time was a privilege she didn't have - wasn't even been able to drink tea. Not about to lie to himself, he flung the porcelain cup across the room and watched it shatter and drip.

The AWOL stint wasn't to be overlooked but not much could be done since he was ultimately not a Preventer. Noin had repeatedly contacted Wufei to get hold of the missing fielder since their work was already up to the neck as it is therefore prompting his Chinese comrade to mail him ever so frequently for the dishonorable action. Wufei spam filter status: on.

Make-up week passed and routine gave way again. Mondays were for supplies. Tuesdays were for maintenance. Fridays were for bargains. It dawned on him that he was near becoming a stalker too. Monday came and they faced off in a hallway. Duo beat him to the punch. "Sorry I hadn't clarified. It's unfair after all, I dragged you to it."

I'm sorry too. He wanted to say it except he wasn't sure why they were apologizing anymore. Or why he had been angry in the first place. Then he remembered. Seeing Duo was the same as saying a tired tadaima and welcomed by a relieved okaeri. Not knowing something about him was same as saying a hopeful ittekimasu answered by an unwanting itterasshai. Then again fighting with him was the same as being shouted konaide and kicked like a dog. He wanted somewhere to call home. And this fiasco scared him away from the possibility of having one.

His blank stare unnerved the American, he knew. So idly he walked up to Duo closer than what normal personal space would allow and held his head to look at him straight. It peeved him to acknowledge that the western genes were superior in height. Annoying as hell. Careful, Heero looked at Duo's eyes - its reflection, its color, its depth. Originally he thought the other man's eyes were blue, apparently it was flecked with a bit of light that made it look a tinge violet. The round orbs, he knew, had seen just as much as he had: same missions, not so similar views, same enemies, same allies, not so similar experiences. At its center he only saw one thing: himself.

By this time there was a congregation of people looking into the conversation, if they could call it that. He could even feel the familiar presence their resident psychic giving him encouragement. So he didn't let all the distractions faze him. They certainly didn't dissuade Duo's focus. As sincerely as he could without breaking contact, Heero smiled and whispered, "I'm home."

Heero didn't like loneliness. It bore him emptiness. No one to hope for the morning with. No one to trust his nights with. If he did seem to treasure such, it was misinterpreted from his search for inner peace. Peace that was not won by solitude or closure. Not by himself. Not even Duo alone.

A smile. A hug and a rough patting on the back. "Welcome back Heero."

Hello and Good Bye End

A/N: Because Heero is ultimately of Japanese descent I made use of that here so translation as follows: tadaima - I'm home, okaeri - welcome home, ittekimasu - I'll be back soon, itterasshai - Hurry and be on your way then. Konaide - don't come closer.

Uh oh yeah, just so you know I had been in the past planning to write a multichap fic like this except I'm still tangled with my recent creation in the Prince of Tennis fandom. So I just made it a one shot. It actually works just fine. On the other hand I'm the type of author that tries to analyze character while I write. I don't know if it worked out well from that perspective. Constructive criticism much appreciated. Reviews even more, and if it's to talk about how these people react here all the better. Waving a hi won't hurt either. I don't bite. :)

If I finish teh long line of things I want to write I'll definitely give this a rehaul.