A.C. 201, June 18.
I never made it back to work. Wufei was obviously having some personal difficulties, so I called both of us in sick for the rest of the day while I was stopped at a set of traffic lights. Heero sounded disappointed over the phone, but I thought I sensed a faint undertone of relief. He'd been worried, I could tell, and the relief was probably to do with being able to tell Une legitimately that Trowa would be his partner for part of this mission. Of course, the real kicker came when I told Wufei what I'd done.
I'd pulled back a few steps as we walked through the apartment parking lot to give him the news, and I was glad I'd done it – he turned around so fast and so aggressively that he probably would have seriously injured me if I'd been within reach. I kept my gaze level and calm, staring him down. He took a menacing step toward me but I refused to back away. It had been my call to make the minute he'd pulled me out of work for whatever this was.
"Damn you Maxwell, why the hell did you do that?" He was furious. If looks could kill, I'd have been toast. I shrugged.
"Saves Yuy waiting on you. He says he'll take Barton instead." Maybe if I stuck to the truth we'd get through this okay. Secretly though, I doubted it. There is nothing quite like Wufei when he's upset; it can take awhile to get used to. Not only is he incredibly dangerous physically, but he develops quite a sharp, intuitive sense of the other person's weaknesses and uses it ruthlessly to cut them to the core. I refused to give him that opening this time, merely waited for him to decide which direction this confrontation would take. Either he'd attack me outright or he'd bide his time and wait to get me back. Neither sounded particularly appealing.
Finally he took a deep breath and turned away, stalking towards the front door. I followed him slowly, aware that he could still change his mind and belt the hell out of me. I wasn't too thrilled about letting him get inside first though – if he wanted to, he could kill me when I walked in. Still, it beat giving him my back while I opened the door myself. If I was going to die I'd rather see it coming.
Onyx eyes flashed a warning at me as he wrestled the door open, walking through and slamming it behind him. I heard the deadbolt slide home. Of course. He didn't want me in there with him because it might mean I'd see him while he was weak. I reflected that it was probably a bad thing that he still didn't trust me enough to back him up on something like this – it didn't really bode well for our continued co-habitation.
Rather than force the issue, I sat down and leaned against the wall with my hands tucked into my jacket pockets and my backpack on the floor next to me. I tilted my head back with a sigh, closing my eyes. I didn't know how to deal with this; I still wasn't really sure what the problem was, so how was I supposed to fix it? He obviously didn't want my help, and this sulk, fit, or whatever was starting to get really old.
About an hour later I heard the door unlock. I grabbed my backpack and clambered to my feet with a soft groan – crap, I wasn't used to sitting still for so long – and reached for the door handle. I pushed the door open carefully, walking cautiously inside; I didn't want to be ambushed and I wasn't sure what mindset Wufei was in yet. With that in mind I shut the door quietly and looked around the apartment.
Wufei hadn't turned the lights on, so the only light in the room was the muted glow from behind the blinds. I put my backpack gently on the table and stood still for a moment, listening. I didn't know where Wufei was, but if I had to guess I'd say either his room or the bathroom. I shrugged off my jacket and hung it up, wanting more freedom of movement for my arms if Wufei attacked me. Not that I was assuming he would, but I wanted to be prepared.
"Maxwell."
I whirled, stepping back instinctively into a defensive stance with my hands up in front of my face. Wufei stood next to the couch, wearing a rather unhappy smirk. I lowered my hands after a moment, watching him carefully. He didn't react to my movements, just continued to stand there and look miserable. I sighed and sat down at the table, giving him some space while making it clear I was here for him. He perched on the arm of the couch a second later.
"Talk, Chang." Okay, I'll admit, it probably wasn't the best way to start the conversation, but I was all out of tact. He gave a low grunt that might have been a suppressed sob or a chuckle; either seemed likely at this point. I was through playing guessing games with him, I just wanted to know what was going on.
The silence stretched for several long minutes while we watched each other from opposite sides of the room. I could see thoughts flitting across his face, each obviously darker than the last. Judging by his sour expression he was trying to figure out what to say. I didn't interrupt.
"I need to take a leave of absence," he said finally, his tone bitter. I studied him carefully, and to my surprise saw a faint flush take over his cheeks. He was obviously pretty angry with himself over this. I didn't comment, merely waited for him to explain further. He scowled, looking away from me. Maybe my reaction hadn't been what he wanted.
"And…?" I prompted when it became apparent that he wasn't going to say anything further. I kept my voice low and calm, trying to be what he needed. He shrugged. Oh, great. This conversation was like pulling teeth. I suddenly and inexplicably wanted to throttle him. Why did he have to be so frustrating?
"And I'll be going back into space for awhile."
"Say what?" I'm afraid that my puzzlement must have shown because he suddenly laughed, a harsh bark of sound that almost made me cringe. God, what was wrong with him?
"Space, Maxwell. I have been invited to attend the commemoration of my colony's destruction as the last member of the Chang clan."
The penny dropped for me, and I suddenly understood why he'd been so torn up lately. The frequency of the nightmares, his continually souring temper, his lack of commitment to his missions – all of that was just a front for the pain eating away at him about his clan. He watched the thoughts run through my eyes impassively, almost like he'd passed his pain completely on to me. I felt myself frown as I thought things through.
"Fine, I'll call Yuy and arrange things. I'm sure I can get Barton to cover us long enough – "
"Us?" Wufei interrupted me incredulously. I glared at him.
"Yes Chang, us. You're not going alone and that's final."
"You don't get to decide that," he snapped, eyes hard. I chuckled mirthlessly.
"You made it my decision the second you pulled me out of work." Harsh, but accurate. Wufei made a non-committal sound, averting his eyes. I noticed that he wasn't fighting all that hard against it, and mentally rolled my eyes. He couldn't have just come out and said he wanted me along – it would have made him feel dependant – and so the fight was just a way for him to seem like he was resisting even though he really wasn't. Talk about backwards logic.
With a disgusted sigh Wufei slid off the couch and strode down the hallway, disappearing into his room. I knew he was going to ground so he could nurse his hurt pride, but I didn't call him on it. I had another fight ahead of me that I wasn't really looking forward to.
"Yuy – Yuy, stop. I'm sorry. No, I am. Urgh, could you shut up and listen to me for a sec? Seriously! …okay, can I talk now? He needs me – well, us, really, but I'm the only one he'll take with him – and we have to leave ASAP. No, I can't give you any more info. …Because I don't know myself, that's why! Damn. Okay, I'll see you tonight."
I hung up the phone in a very bad mood. Heero had not been pleased with my admission that I was going into space with Wufei, not least of all because now he had to completely re-write his mission brief to suit Trowa's abilities instead of Wufei's, and the resulting explosion had almost deafened me.
I rubbed my temples, trying to ease the headache that had formed somewhere around the time Heero had started to yell. I knew that this wasn't the best situation – Trowa didn't really suit Heero's mission style, and both of them knew it – but surely they could manage this once? I'd rather Heero had to make do with Trowa for one mission than take a distracted and angry Wufei into a firefight; there wouldn't be any guarantee of either of them coming back alive if he did.
Unexpectedly the phone rang, making me jump half out of my skin. I answered it curtly.
"What?" Then I paused. "Oh, sorry Quat'. How ya doing?" He chuckled softly, not taking offence.
"I had a feeling you needed to talk," he replied. I winced. Of course he knew; it was his thing, his 'space heart'. It works on overdrive for people he cares about, so he'd have felt it the minute I started to get stressed. I wondered why it hadn't told him Wufei was hurting, but even Heero had managed to pick that up – it was probably obvious to everyone, including Quatre. But why hadn't he tried to help? Odd.
"Just got some stuff going on, man, nothing to worry about." I couldn't lie to Quatre because he'd know instantly, but I could be vague. I could almost hear him smile over the phone.
"It's to do with Wufei, isn't it?"
Oh, crap. "Uh, sort of," I hedged, trying to think of something to say that wouldn't give everything away. Quatre made a sympathetic sound.
"It's okay Duo, you don't have to tell me the details. I'm just letting you know that I'm here for you if you need me." Then he hung up. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, fighting the urge to hurl the phone across the room. It was an incredibly immature response, and I owed it to myself to be an adult about this whole thing. So what if Quatre could read my mind? He was my friend, and he was looking out for me. I didn't have to get mad just because he knew things I didn't want him to.
I slumped over the table, resting my head on my arms. Well, this sucked. I now had to figure out a way to calm Wufei down and convince him to come to our dinner tonight, as well as come up with answers to the questions the guys were bound to have. I groaned quietly. Well, I hoped the food was good at least – I had a feeling the rest of the night wouldn't be so fun.
Several hours later I was knocking on Wufei's door. "Come on, Chang, it's time to go!" I called exasperatedly, running my hands over my hair to make sure it was fairly tidy. I was dressed pretty casually in a pair of jeans and a black short-sleeved button down shirt, with my trusty boots on. I hadn't yet received a reply and I was starting to get really irritated – we were going to be late if he kept this up.
"Chang –" I started, about to hit the door again, but to my surprise it opened. Wufei stood there in an almost identical outfit, except his shirt was red. He glared at me, but I turned on the spot and walked towards the front door. I spoke to him over my shoulder.
"Who's driving?" Normally we had a system for these nights, where one of us drank and the other one drove. Quatre would have gladly given us a lift home but we didn't want to take him up on it – we didn't need the fact that he was rich rubbed in our faces all the time. Not that he did it on purpose, mind you, it just sort of happened. I didn't really know how Trowa put up with it all the time, but he lived with the guy; I guess he'd adjusted.
"You." I fought the urge to sigh in relief, grateful for his decision. I didn't want to be on the back of his bike if he decided life just wasn't worth living anymore and took measures.
"Okay," I replied, putting on my jacket. He followed suit sullenly, face set in dark lines. I ignored him. Once he had a drink or two and some food, he'd be right. I hoped so, anyway.
After we'd walked out of the apartment and locked the door I jogged down to the parking lot, swinging onto my bike and starting the engine. I settled my helmet as Wufei climbed on behind me, a slight gap between us so that neither of us felt uncomfortable.
"Ready?" I asked, turning my head to the side so I could see him better. His helmet was already on, so I couldn't read his expression, but he nodded once sharply and then rested his hands very lightly just above my hips for balance. I revved the engine and peeled out of the parking lot, heading for Pete's Pub. It was our regular hangout, and it had good food, drinks and great atmosphere. Busy, but not overly so as to freak out a bunch of jumpy ex-terrorists.
Wufei grabbed hold of me as we took a corner a little more sharply than I'd intended, thanks to a large truck cutting me off. I had to swing in to the lane next to it, narrowly missing a flashy red sports car. Thankfully I had good enough reflexes to avoid getting us squished, but I still wasn't happy. Judging from the hard grip Wufei had around my torso, neither was he. I shrugged by way of apology, knowing he could feel it, and he loosened up a little when it became apparent that I wasn't going to kill us any time soon. He didn't let go of me though – probably he still didn't trust me. I fought the urge to sigh and concentrated on getting us there safely.
As we parked outside the pub Wufei drew back a little, putting distance between us again. He swung off the bike as soon as we stopped moving, taking off his helmet and stepping several feet away from me. He didn't walk off and leave me though, which was interesting, but it was probably only because he didn't want to face the guys on his own. Whatever, it didn't matter to me. I just wanted to hurry up and get inside.
The first thing I was aware of as we walked in was noise. It washed over us, jarring and soothing by turns. Up on the little stage towards the back, a man was playing his guitar and singing in a husky voice. Tables were crowded into the right hand side of the big room, full of families and friends sharing a meal. The bar was crowded with men and women in their early twenties to late sixties, cheerfully enjoying a drink together. The place was full of laughter and warmth. I felt myself smile, which took me rather by surprise given the circumstances, but as I caught sight of Trowa at the bar I suddenly didn't care anymore. He raised his glass, giving me a gentle smile in return. Quatre and Heero both looked at us a moment later. I made my way through the mass of chairs and tables to them.
"Hey guys!" I couldn't help but grin widely as Heero pulled up two additional stools, placing one on either side of him. I didn't doubt Wufei's choice at all and clambered onto the one closer to Trowa and Quatre, letting Wufei sit to the outside. He didn't return the guys' smiles but nodded curtly and then busied himself getting a drink from the bartender. I ignored him.
"It's great to see you, Duo!" Quatre said excitedly, gripping my forearm tightly in his version of a handshake. I laughed at him.
"You too, Quat', what's been happening? Your sisters finally let you out of the office?" Quatre raised an eyebrow at me.
"Yes, not that it's ANY of your business," he retorted, making Trowa chuckle. Ah, so that was the real story: Trowa had forced them to let Quatre have a break. Good on him – Quatre's sisters were scary and numerous. I figured Trowa had to have an iron will to want to be a part of that particular family; it certainly wasn't something I would have wanted to take on. I winked at him around Quatre and he smirked.
"How long is your break?" Heero interjected suddenly, a glass of scotch in his hand. Knowing him as I did, I figured it was probably single malt, and that he'd probably limit himself to just the one drink for the night. I glanced at Quatre as we waited for his answer, and realised that he was drinking vodka. A surreptitious peek at Trowa showed me he was drinking gin. Hm. Apparently some things never changed.
"A week." Quatre looked down for an instant, then glanced back up with a sunny grin. "But I'm sure it'll be a good week!"
I realised I didn't have a drink to toast him with, but as I went to signal the bartender Wufei pushed a glass up the bar to me. He'd apparently ordered me a Coke, which was uncharacteristic of him. I took it with a slight frown and a mumbled thanks, then held up my glass to Quatre.
"Here's to a great week off," I proclaimed, which he seconded by clinking his glass against mine. We drank, but I found my eyes going back to Wufei, huddled into his jacket and presumably ignoring all of us while he sipped his drink. Heero caught my eye and nodded, shifting around on his stool so he could speak quietly to his partner while letting me engage Trowa and Quatre.
"Maybe we should order?" Good old Trowa. I nodded to him and slid off my stool, searching for an empty table. Quatre followed me immediately, with Trowa trailing after. Heero and Wufei stayed at the bar, heads close together. I figured the conversation was probably a bit intense and resolved to keep out of it. But how to make sure Quatre didn't interfere? I had no idea.
Trowa placed a menu into Quatre's free hand, leaning over him to read it too. If Quatre suspected he was being distracted, he didn't let on, for which I was grateful. As he debated over the menu with Trowa, I watched my other friends. Eventually they got up and wandered over to us, Heero on my left and Wufei on my right. Neither looked at the other much, but I sensed they'd sort of repaired things between them. That was a good start, but as I watched Wufei I wondered whether or not he felt like he was letting Heero down. If he did, then this would be a whole different ball game, and one I didn't want to play. Was it too late to call for a time-out? I wonder who referees this kind of stuff.
