This chapter was way too hard to write. And it's only the second installment. Rated for language and peevish Trowa. Because the man can bring forth attitude problems—remember his smart mouth during the Antarctica episodes? Tsk, tsk, pretty emerald-eyed one.
Trowa woke up without opening his eyes, confused about the physical sensations flooding his body. The sheets wrapped around his waist weren't gritty and the mattress felt softer than normal. His cat wasn't curled around his head. There was no headache which usually pounded within his skull after drinking whiskey, no grogginess weighing down his limbs due to the alcohol. And he was pretty damn sure someone was licking his chest. "Quat…?"
A high-pitched giggle escaped in the region of his thighs, which he noticed were not covered in his boxers as they should have been. "Good morning, love. Care to have a repeat of last night before you leave?"
Repeat? I got laid? That's not Quatre's voice. Wrenching open his eyes, Trowa lifted his head and looked towards his feet, curious as to who was the effeminate-sounding male he apparently drowned his heartbreak in the night before. "Gaah! Relena?!"
Trowa rudely shoved the former ruler of the world off of him. No, no, no, no! He jumped out of the bed and promptly fell over, scrambling on the floor like a dog to reach the bathroom. Sitting up on his knees, he slammed the door and clicked the lock to keep the crazed stalker on the outside of his designated fortress. Alright, analyze the situation. Okay, breathe and analyze the situation. I'm in Heero's house. Heero's girl made a move on me. I feel nauseated and off-balance. I'm naked. I feel asleep drunk after the mission. What happened between then and right now?
Calming down slightly, he decided the best way to find answers would be to get off the marble tiles and find some clothes. Standing up, he wavered on his feet. This is the weirdest hangover I've ever had. I feel…short. Searching for and flicking on the bathroom light, he shook his aching head and glanced at himself in the mirror.
His world stopped.
He was Heero.
A soft knock sounded behind him as he gaped at his reflection, patting down what continued to be Heero's body. "Honey? Are you sick?"
The genetics lab! This has to be related to them somehow. Those darts were related to the five of us. So if I look like Heero, then he must look like me. How strange…Heero's hair, his eyes, his arms, his chest, his abs, his…Clothes! Where are the clothes? "Uh…Miss Relena? Can you get me something to wear? And shoes? Just lay them in front of the bathroom, please."
"Here you go."
Trowa edged open the door, grabbing the clothing hurriedly before Relena could see him naked again. His body or not, the concept was still humiliating. Dressing rapidly, he crept into the bedroom, slapping a hand over Prussian orbs when he got an eyeful of naked Relena waiting for him. "Where are his keys? My keys?"
"What's going on? Are you okay?" Incredibly gentle and delicate hands reached for his face. Heero's face. My face? I'm using it, so it's mine for now. He pushed the hands away, taking a deep breath to sound composed so he would not inspire Relena to call for help.
"I need to see Trowa. It's critically important. Please trust me." I barely know you, but trust me.
"I do." She wrapped a sheet around her, the cloth trailing her into the foyer where she picked up a keychain from a desk, dangling it in front of her lover's nose. "Take the bike. It's faster than my car."
Trowa grabbed the keys. "This may sound odd to you, but know that Heero is as lucky a heterosexual man can get. Thanks."
A few minutes and several broken speed limits later, Trowa stomped up to his door in uncomfortable and clunky yellow boots. He grumbled with increasing irritation when he tried to get in with Quatre's key on Heero's keychain, instinct telling him to use the fourth one after the Preventer's pass-card. I can't believe this! He actually put our keys in numerical order! When located, Heero was sitting very calmly at Trowa's desk in Trowa's clothes, reviewing mission information on Trowa's computer.
"Heero? What's going on? You are Heero, right?"
Heero shrugged, talking as if they were discussing the new coffee machine in the employee lounge. "Of course. We switched bodies."
"That is humanly impossible and you know it! We need to talk to headquarters. Maybe they know what's going on."
"Already contacted. They are working on analyzing the compound we were injected with, as well as chasing any scientist that worked on the project that you didn't kill yesterday. And we're undergoing more medical tests tomorrow, so don't make any plans. It would be today, but they want to know what to look for."
"You've done all this? How long have you been awake? I came over as soon as I woke up." Not knowing the current time, Trowa glanced at the time on the screen over Heero's shoulder, surprised to discover it was already nearly noon. "It's almost time to go to Wufei's."
"While whatever drink you disgraced yourself with last night kept me under until the late morning—thanks for the hangover, by the way—my activities with Relena were obviously more tiring."
"Ugh. Please don't mention her. I never want to wake up with a naked woman on top of me again."
Heero's words came out low, but not seeming as threatening as Trowa would have liked to hear his own voice be. "What exactly happened between you and my girlfriend?"
"Nothing, unless you count me screaming and running to the bathroom to be a bad thing."
"That's worse. Now she thinks I'm upset with her."
Trowa's retort failed to make it out as he watched Mayhem enter the room, bypassing him to rub against Heero. As trivial the action was, Trowa couldn't help but feel betrayed, and so decided to change the subject back to more important matters. "How are we supposed to keep the genetic experiment a secret if we're in each other's bodies?"
"We have to assume each other's identities. We'll probably make mistakes, but no-one is actually going to seriously guess at the truth."
"Good point, but you really think it's going to be that simple?"
"We don't have a choice. But as an added precaution, I won't be joining you and the others at lunch today. We need time to get used to each other's bodies and grow accustomed to our traded identities. Plus, I want to review the rest of these files."
"Alright, fine—send me into the fire alone. Since you're always early, I'll go ahead and leave now for Wufei's. See you tomorrow…Barton." If this nightmare doesn't end before then.
When Trowa entered Wufei's home, he adamantly wished he had remained with Heero. Dorothy was hanging onto Quatre's arm in the Chinese man's dining room, smiling down at her boyfriend while he stared adoringly up at her. What is she doing here? Our get-togethers are supposed to be for us only. She's invading my life for the second time.
Wufei offered him a plate after politely asking him to remove his shoes in the house, a foreign courtesy to Trowa which Heero never would have forgotten. "Sorry. It's been a long day already. Am I the last one here?"
"Surprisingly, everyone's early except for Trowa."
"Do you know if he's coming, Heero?" Quatre turned his gaze to the floor, his bright blue-and-green eyes overcast with sadness. "He ran out on me yesterday when I told him about my relationship with Dorothy. I'm afraid he doesn't approve. None of us have heard from him since."
"No. He's not coming."
Trowa saw the woman in question squeeze Quatre's arm in a token of comfort. A burning sensation filled the back of his throat when she spoke up. "I baked all his favorite food here for him today, hoping it would be a peace offering."
Did everyone know but me? For how long? Do they know how I care about him? "We had a mission last night. He's staying home not because of you, but because the exertion made him sick." Ignoring how everyone else in the room collectively frowned, he began to eat without further explanation.
He froze when Dorothy laid a hand over his. "If you can't talk about a mission in front of me, I can leave for a moment."
"The mission is classified to everyone but me and H—Trowa. So drop it."
Despite all the problems which went hand-in-hand with being in Heero's body, Trowa had to admit that Heero was the most suitable of trades for him. He wasn't expected to talk unless asked a direct question and he had spent enough time healing Heero to know how the Japanese ex-pilot moved physically. After testily closing the topic of the mission, everyone left him alone and he was able to dine without suspicion.
The highlight of the meal in his opinion was when Dorothy accidentally tripped over Wufei's dog, a female hound he was graciously housing while she was being taught to sniff out illegal drugs by Preventer trainers. Although he was not likely to admit it, Wufei had bonded with he animal, and Trowa was abnormally disposed to like the canine as she sent Dorothy sprawling to the ground. When they had gathered outside in Wufei's driveway to depart, Trowa took the liberty to ask a question while Dorothy went back inside for her forgotten purse. "How's the bitch?"
"She's licking her wounds in the pen out back."
"Funny, I wasn't talking about the dog."
"Heero!"
Trowa mentally kicked himself, having forgotten whose body he was currently occupying, but somehow grateful the blame fell on Heero instead of himself. At least there's one benefit to all this. No-one will suspect 'Trowa' of moping over a certain wealthy Arabian. "You try and sit through one of her and Relena's little sleepovers, Quatre."
As Duo swung an arm around his 'borrowed' shoulders, Trowa tensed under the unfamiliar contact. Although Duo would often hug or play-fight with the other ex-pilots, he would noticeably avoid touching the former acrobat. Trowa suspected it may be a result from his destruction of Deathscythe during his infiltration at OZ. "Someone's grumpy 'cause they can't have sex while an extra girl's in the house."
"Get off of me."
Duo kept his arm right where it was. "Oh, relax. I was just kidding. You still coming over to play video games tonight, right?"
"Oh, um, right." Great. I've never played video games before. Maybe I should find an excuse not to go. Duo and I aren't exactly close. Then again, it'll get me away from Relena…Video games it is. "What time again?"
"Seven as always, buddy. I'll order the chow."
"Chow?"
"Food! We can have Chinese since 'Fei skimped out on us."
"Shut up, Maxwell. It was difficult enough to let a woman take over my kitchen when it was my turn to cook."
Duo rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah, uh-huh, very chivalrous of you. So, catch you tonight, Heero?"
Trowa took a minute to remember he was the one being addressed. "Yeah…right. Tonight. See you then. See everybody else later." Waving good-bye to the group to a symphony of "Goodbye, Heero," he departed on the dirt bike. Not wanting to return to Relena's questioning or sexual advances, he drove around the town, waiting until it was time to meet up with Duo. He dreaded the encounter almost as much as he dreaded sleeping next to the vice foreign minister again. With any of their other shared friends, acting like Heero wouldn't be difficult. He knew enough about them and about how Heero interacted with him to play the part.
Most of the time, they all went out as a group—eating, weekend road trips, goofing off in one of their homes after work. They each had a role in the Preventer's organization which, from acting as agents to playing a vital political character. Still, they set up specific times to bond in pairs to strengthen each thread of friendship for its unique worth. Wufei was teaching Trowa marital arts once a week, demonstrating to the once nameless man the elegance of the strict rules in the form over the bloody free-for-all found in street fighting. Heero and Trowa often went roughing in the woods overnight, carrying nothing which wouldn't fit in their pockets.
With Quatre, there was less physical activity and more conversation, mostly on the blonde's behalf. Trowa understood his best friend's need to have someone to pour his problems onto after hours of pretending to be the perfect corporate heir. Trowa was more than happy to offer an open ear. It made him feel needed, important. Like he could finally offer something to this young millionaire that no-one else could. It made him feel loved.
If there was a good movie playing at the cinema, Duo would call Trowa and they'd watch it together. None of the other ex-pilots seemed to appreciate the thrill of a front row seat, even if action effects on screen fail to be technically correct. But good movies only came along about once every month and talking isn't encouraged in the theater. They rarely even took the extra time to buy popcorn.
Heero and Duo apparently played video games. Heero and Duo were also incredibly close. This is never going to work.
Unlike Trowa's house in the near-rural suburbs, Duo's place was located in the heart of the urban city, fifteen floors up in an apartment building specifically designated for Preventers workers. Although Trowa had considered living there for a time, he decided he wanted to finally be to able to separate his job from his home life. However, he always enjoyed the night skyline view from Duo's windows.
At fifteen minutes to seven, he took the elevator up to the fifteenth floor, locating the familiar gold numbers '1518' against beige paint. Finding Duo's door hazardously unlocked, he peeked in and was shocked at the complete mess presented before him. Every time beforehand when he had visited Duo's home, it had been relatively clean. He took a moment to study the muddy footprints in the navy rug. Somehow, he felt more comfortable with everything chaotic. Reminded him of his ruined carpet. "Hey. Where are you?"
"In here!" Trowa followed the loud voice and cautiously walked into Duo's kitchen and dining area. Duo smiled and slapped him on Heero's powerfully built shoulder. "What have you been up to since this afternoon?"
"Um, food? You said something earlier about food."
"Yep! Got you the best—fried rice with shrimp."
I hate shrimp. Does being in Heero's body mean that I have his taste preferences too? "Thanks." He took the white box Duo handed out to him, glaring at the chopsticks in a mixture of curiosity and hatred. How in the hell are these supposed to work? "Can I have a fork, actually? I'm still tired after last night's mission." Great excuse, Barton. Heero's so tired he can't use the utensils he grew up with?
"No prob. Still can't spare me any details about what went down? You're jumpier than usual and it isn't like Tro to get sick."
Trowa followed the bouncy Shinigami back into the latter's living room. "You're asking me to break regulations?"
Duo shrugged, plopping down on his couch with his dinner. "Asking for a little gossip isn't against the rules."
"Yes it is. Don't pry." Trowa took the seat beside him, trying not to cross his legs as that would be very unlike Heero Yuy. Stabbing into his box with a fork, he gagged on the piece of seafood cautiously placed his mouth. Although the taste wasn't bad like normal, the texture and the idea of little shrimp eyes pleading for mercy made him sick to his stomach. Duo pounded on his comrade's back as Trowa spit the food into his napkin.
"You okay, buddy?"
"Wrong pipe." Avoiding the pieces of shrimp, Trowa ate his rice in what he hoped was comfortable silence as Duo devoured chicken dripping with a strange yellow sauce. Once they were done, the braided agent threw their containers behind the sofa unceremoniously. Trowa nearly smiled over the careless action, glad he wasn't the messiest of the gundam pilots.
"So, how's Relena doing?"
The almost-smile transformed into a shudder. Lovely conversation starter. Well, she's not going to be 'doing' her boyfriend for a long time, how's that? "Same as usual. What video game did you have in mind for tonight?"
Duo slid to the floor in front of his television, rummaging through a pile of games and movies before picking out a few. "How about one of these? Good old-fashioned racing in flashy cars I'll never own?"
"Whatever you want." Duo offered him a controller as the game started up, and he glared at it with the same content he felt for the chopsticks. A joystick he could easy figure out after years of piloting different suits, but this looked like a board with bright pieces of candy stuck to it. "You know what? I'll just watch you play."
"You're that worn out? Gives me more bad vibes about your mission." Duo absently chewed on his lip for a minute as he pondered. "Did it have to do with the DNA lab? It's been throwing up some major red flags lately."
Trowa wasn't sure whether to silently praise Duo for being so easy-going, or to throttle him for being so perceptive. "I can't tell you that! How about we forget the videogames and simply talk? How has your week been?"
Duo snorted. "You really want to hear about my week? You know who it's all going to be about." He dramatically clasped his hands together beneath his chin, fluttering his eyelashes. "My true love."
What have I gotten myself into? Why couldn't I have just avoided the stupid dart? Better yet, why didn't the stupid dart kill me? "Sure."
Duo dropped his hands, looking at 'Heero' suspiciously. "You're acting weird."
"Humor me."
"Why? Have you talked to him? Has he said anything about me? Was it bad? It was bad, wasn't it?"
'Him'? Duo's bisexual? I thought he was dating Hilde. "Relax. Nothing was said."
"Oh, well, no news is good news, I guess. I want to call him, to make sure he's doing better. Are you positive it was the mission that made him sick? Quatre was worried about him being upset over Dorothy. But that wouldn't be enough to keep Trowa home, right?"
"Why would I—wait a second. You're in love with Trowa?"
"Well, duh. You know that."
"Stop kidding around." A prankster to the end, Duo?
Duo glared, chugging down the remains of a soda can Trowa guessed had been placed on the coffee table hours before he arrived. "Shut up. I'm not going to talk to you if you're listening only to make fun of me."
"Come on. You're really in love with him?"
"Well, it's not like I want to be! Do you have any idea how it feels to love somebody who thinks you're an idiot?"
"He doesn't think you're an idiot. He doesn't know you well enough to think you're an idiot."
"Gee, that makes me feel so much better." Duo sighed, burying his head in his hands for a moment before pulling his legs up unto the couch, wrapping his arms around them. "He's so graceful, you know? He never makes a mistake."
"Trust me, yes he does." Almost made the biggest mistake of my life yesterday.
"Doesn't seem like it. Even on Peacemillion when his memory was gone, he fought like a pro. A confused pro, but a pro."
"What about when he went to protect the colony when Zech's real target was earth? Or when you saw him at the circus before Quatre did?"
Duo smiled wistfully, his eyes closing as if he was playing the memories in his mind. A soundless sigh pressed through his lips, making Trowa fear what he was going to say next. "He was protecting his sister, not the colony. He was weak when I saw him because he nearly died trying to save his friends. Those aren't mistakes. It just goes to prove how kind he is."
He's not kidding. "Shit."
Duo's eyes flew open, studying the Japanese man beside him with alarm. "You okay? You're pretty pale. Do you have the same thing Trowa's got?"
"I do feel rather sick. Yes, sick would be a good word for how I feel right now. Sorry, but I think I need to go."
"It's okay, bud. Thanks for coming over anyway even though you felt bad. And thanks for listening. I know it gets on your nerves when I go on and on."
"We'll talk more about it later, I promise. We've got to get you over him before something bad happens."
Duo smiled again, his surprise as clear as his pleasure. "You're a pal, Heero. See you Monday."
"See you Monday."
The drive from Duo's apartment to Trowa's house was not a long one if driven at ninety miles per hour on a bike secretly juiced with illegal modifications. If Heero was startled by Trowa's sudden presence in the kitchen, he didn't allow the green eyes he was using show it. "Shouldn't you be getting home? Relena's probably waiting for me by now."
Trowa used the power in Heero's sculpted arms to haul his own slender body up in the air and against the wall by the turtleneck collar. "Why didn't you tell me Duo's in love with me?!"
"You never asked."
"This is insane!"
"No, it's not."
"Do you care to explain it to me, then? That would be a nice gesture right about now!"
"If you put me down. Your body bruises easily."
Trowa pouted, but dropped his friend from the hold. "…Does not." He walked to his kitchen and sat at the table, groaning with added displeasure once he noticed Heero had scrubbed the room clean. "How could this have happened?"
Heero straightened out the turtleneck he was wearing before also sitting down, stretching his new long legs up onto another chair. "I'm surprised you never noticed before. His affections for you are obvious."
"Not true. Wait, did everyone know but me?"
"Yes."
Fantastic. Is this why Quatre never pursued a romantic relationship with me? Because he was afraid of hurting Duo? Or is that my wishful thinking? "How long?"
"Since we all started talking again after the Barton incident. You're a loving person and you share a similar type of background with him. He became intrigued by your gentleness and has grown concerned over your growing unhappiness lately."
"Heero, I'm a selfish bastard and I have nothing in common with him. And I haven't been unhappy lately." Just since yesterday. Right?
"You are not, you do too, and yes you have." Heero pulled back the long bangs hindering his sight, only to have them fall back in place immediately afterward. "We've all been worried. You've been reckless, irritable, and demonstrating low self-esteem."
"We're supposed to be talking about Duo, remember? Not my mental well being. Why didn't he tell me? It's not like our friendship would be hurt. We hardly have a friendship as it is. He barely even talks to me or touches me."
"For being extroverted and blunt in nature, he's afraid of admitting his affections for you. He's not wrong for believing you would directly reject him. To be fair, you haven't tried hard to get to know him."
Guilt threatened to tear through Trowa's indignation. "Since when did you turn into a relationship counselor? Not like you're expertly in tune with all your emotions."
"As I said—irritable."
"Is my whiskey still here?"
"No."
"That was a gift from Duo, actually."
"He'll manage."
"Can I at least sleep in my own bed tonight?"
"If you call Relena and kindly tell her that 'Trowa' is not feeling well and needs 'you' to take care of him."
"Fine."
"And you must tell her you love her."
I had better days when I was on OZ's most wanted list.
