"Heero, can I --"
"No."
"But --"
"No."
And that was it. Arguments were conceivably short between the two; one was short-tempered and one was short-worded. It wasn't that they didn't get along, because cats and dogs merely 'didn't get along.' What they had was notably more than that.
Duo had been wanting to ask for weeks, but despite the perfect syntax, despite the perfect vocabulary, it didn't really matter. In fact, he'd barely gotten past the first "Heero, can I...?" when he was given a firm negative. But that's how it always worked, didn't it? Surely there were times when 'no' meant 'yes,' didn't it? Dammit! Why was he always so opposed to anything he had to say!?
Fuming at the world in general, Duo stormed up to the loft of the barn. And who'd chosen such a stupid place for their stronghold, anyway? Stronghold....humph! Strong enough to be blown down in a stiff wind, more like it. And strong enough to be home to billions of....crawly icky squirmy things. He didn't think he'd ever get the spider webs out of his hair.
Why did fate always stick him with this doink? Maybe it was true what they said about Fate being one sick, vindictive bastard. 'Hey, I've got a good idea! Let's stick the cute, happy one with the brooding sociopathic maniac!' What a great idea that was!
The thing was....
The thing was...Duo find that more and more, he liked it. It wasn't that he enjoyed the monosyllabic wonder boy's riveting company, it was just that he like the idea of the solidity. If there was one thing Duo could count on in this world, it was Heero listening. Or, at least, not shutting him up. In fact, as long as Duo wasn't actually requesting to do, buy, or blow up something, Heero was always completely complacent to listen to him. Strange, huh? There were times solo; missions of stealth and silence throughout; one solider, one target, one chance. They were nerve-wracking! He'd always thought that it was because of the pressure, but once, just once, he'd thought different.
It had been one of the old 'get in and blow it up and don't get caught but if you do you'd better damn sure hope they kill you because what we're gonna do is MUCH worse' sort of missions. The nervousness was bubbling around just under his skin as though it desperately wanted to get out and it had been a full twenty-three minutes before he'd realized he was talking to a Heero who wasn't there. It was then that paranoia hit him and he almost couldn't function. What was it that made it so difficult to operate when Mr. I'm-Such-A-Perfect-Soldier Yuy wasn't around? It had almost ended in disaster when the detonator switch slipped through sweaty fingers and clattered noisily to the floor, triggering the explosions seven minutes too soon.
Yeah, he barely made it out of that one by the skin of his butt.
And now he sat, glaring at the wall in silence. All he'd wanted to do was ask him something! "Heero, can I --" and that's as far as he'd gotten. His mistake, he later reconciled, was the halt. That millisecond pause between 'I' and the rest of his sentence. It was as if Heero had known it would be something outrageous and stupid and didn't even intend to entertain it!
Sighing, he fiddled with the end of his braid, laying back against the hay and trying with all his might to pretend it was soft, warm and fluffy, just like in the movies. He'd practiced so hard! It took him weeks to figure out how to say it perfectly and it'd taken him almost a month to get up the guts to say it. His gaze was fixed on the ceiling, though it seemed to stare completely through it as he wrestled a thin smile on his lips, his voice barely audible above the restless rustle of the birds nesting in the rafters.
"The way I see it, it doesn't much matter what he thinks. Heero...ay-ee shee-tare-oo."
************************************************************************
Gee....can anyone guess what he's saying? I mean...am I the only one here who thinks he'd at least goof up a little bit on teaching himself something to say in Japanese when he doesn't know the first word? Heehee.
"No."
"But --"
"No."
And that was it. Arguments were conceivably short between the two; one was short-tempered and one was short-worded. It wasn't that they didn't get along, because cats and dogs merely 'didn't get along.' What they had was notably more than that.
Duo had been wanting to ask for weeks, but despite the perfect syntax, despite the perfect vocabulary, it didn't really matter. In fact, he'd barely gotten past the first "Heero, can I...?" when he was given a firm negative. But that's how it always worked, didn't it? Surely there were times when 'no' meant 'yes,' didn't it? Dammit! Why was he always so opposed to anything he had to say!?
Fuming at the world in general, Duo stormed up to the loft of the barn. And who'd chosen such a stupid place for their stronghold, anyway? Stronghold....humph! Strong enough to be blown down in a stiff wind, more like it. And strong enough to be home to billions of....crawly icky squirmy things. He didn't think he'd ever get the spider webs out of his hair.
Why did fate always stick him with this doink? Maybe it was true what they said about Fate being one sick, vindictive bastard. 'Hey, I've got a good idea! Let's stick the cute, happy one with the brooding sociopathic maniac!' What a great idea that was!
The thing was....
The thing was...Duo find that more and more, he liked it. It wasn't that he enjoyed the monosyllabic wonder boy's riveting company, it was just that he like the idea of the solidity. If there was one thing Duo could count on in this world, it was Heero listening. Or, at least, not shutting him up. In fact, as long as Duo wasn't actually requesting to do, buy, or blow up something, Heero was always completely complacent to listen to him. Strange, huh? There were times solo; missions of stealth and silence throughout; one solider, one target, one chance. They were nerve-wracking! He'd always thought that it was because of the pressure, but once, just once, he'd thought different.
It had been one of the old 'get in and blow it up and don't get caught but if you do you'd better damn sure hope they kill you because what we're gonna do is MUCH worse' sort of missions. The nervousness was bubbling around just under his skin as though it desperately wanted to get out and it had been a full twenty-three minutes before he'd realized he was talking to a Heero who wasn't there. It was then that paranoia hit him and he almost couldn't function. What was it that made it so difficult to operate when Mr. I'm-Such-A-Perfect-Soldier Yuy wasn't around? It had almost ended in disaster when the detonator switch slipped through sweaty fingers and clattered noisily to the floor, triggering the explosions seven minutes too soon.
Yeah, he barely made it out of that one by the skin of his butt.
And now he sat, glaring at the wall in silence. All he'd wanted to do was ask him something! "Heero, can I --" and that's as far as he'd gotten. His mistake, he later reconciled, was the halt. That millisecond pause between 'I' and the rest of his sentence. It was as if Heero had known it would be something outrageous and stupid and didn't even intend to entertain it!
Sighing, he fiddled with the end of his braid, laying back against the hay and trying with all his might to pretend it was soft, warm and fluffy, just like in the movies. He'd practiced so hard! It took him weeks to figure out how to say it perfectly and it'd taken him almost a month to get up the guts to say it. His gaze was fixed on the ceiling, though it seemed to stare completely through it as he wrestled a thin smile on his lips, his voice barely audible above the restless rustle of the birds nesting in the rafters.
"The way I see it, it doesn't much matter what he thinks. Heero...ay-ee shee-tare-oo."
************************************************************************
Gee....can anyone guess what he's saying? I mean...am I the only one here who thinks he'd at least goof up a little bit on teaching himself something to say in Japanese when he doesn't know the first word? Heehee.