Disclaimer: They aren't mine and there is no financial profit involved.
Note: to everyone who has been kind enough to review this rather unorthodox story, and to KS for editing, many thanks.
Chapter 6:
In which Duo tries to sell a painting to an enigmatic Japanese businessman, who may not be as immune to his charms as first appears….
Heero Yuy.
Well, he still had twenty minutes to wait until Mr. Yuy arrived, so he decided to kill time by doing a little on-line research. The name produced a plethora of hits on Google. Duo selected a newspaper archive, and pulled up a photograph to start.
'Well, aren't you cute?' he demanded of the image on screen. To be honest, Heero Yuy was beyond cute; more in the realm of knee tremblingly hot. Those blue eyes were killer for a start.
Yum.
'Pity you're straight, Mr. Yuy. I've got a friend who'd just eat you up with a spoon. And then paint the remains. Let's see what your girlfriend looks like.'
Relena was blonde, pretty, possessed of an unfortunate obsession with the colour pink. She and Quatre would have something in common anyway. She was from an old Sanque family, so Treize probably knew her. There seemed no particular reason why the happy couple shouldn't provide a good home for the painting.
Duo pulled up Heero Yuy's picture again, scanned the text below it. IT genius. Own company. Megabucks. Plans to expand into Europe. Yadda yadda yadda. Not fair, really. Looks and brains.
Seven twenty.
Trowa would still be asleep. Well, screw him. He dialled Trowa's number anyway; the personal one he always answered. Do the asshole good to be woken early; a little payback for the stuff he'd said on Sunday.
As far as Tro was concerned, Duo had met Treize and immediately thrown up his life and independence and personal freedom to live as Treize's pampered little pet. He'd called him worse than that. It was a miracle they were still friends, really.
Trowa wasn't just a friend, though. He was the closest thing to family that Duo had ever had. He was the only person Duo could talk to about things that had happened years ago, who really got where he was coming from. Treize tried. He really did, but he was from a different world and you couldn't get around that.
Treize wasn't overly enamoured of Trowa either, although he hid it damn well. He'd never betrayed it by look or voice or tone or the lift of one blighting eyebrow. He was only ever charming to Trowa, sometimes even commented if Duo hadn't seen him recently.
Of course, he'd won the prize. He could afford to be magnanimous.
Duo and Trowa had watched out for each other, pretty much for ever, until Duo had walked out of the Duo+Trowa equation and into Treize's life without even a backward glance. In the middle of a fucking job, to make it all worse. He still saw Trowa all the time, but it wasn't the same.
And now Quatre was asking questions about the two of them. Fuck. He'd never understand. He was so like Treize in some ways, as in he vaguely knew that there was another world out there past his own golden existence. Because Quatre was a nice person, he donated to charity and shook his head sadly over certain news reports, but none of it was real to him. None of those shadows had ever touched his life, so he was able to keep his shiny, rose-coloured view of humanity.
Trowa and Duo knew it wasn't like that.
Tro had pulled him aside on Sunday, just before they ate, and apologised. He'd been charming, or as near to charming as he ever got, during dinner, and Duo supposed they'd sort of made up. They hadn't spoken in the four days since, which was a fairly long time for them not to be in contact.
Swallowing, he dialled the number.
'Max?' Trowa's voice was blurred with sleep, foggy with concern. 'What's the matter?'
'I'm OK.' He was, suddenly. This was how they were. 'Just wanted to talk.'
'You little shit.' From Trowa Barton, it was something of an endearment. 'It's the middle of the fucking night.'
Duo grinned. It would be kind of interesting to see what happened with him and Quatre. Talk about chalk and cheese.
'You really OK?'
'Yep. Sorry. I meant to call before now.'
'Forget it. Move, you moron. Not you, Max. Cleo! Get off my leg; you're cutting off my circulation.'
'Reduced to sleeping with your dog now, Barton?' Duo taunted. 'No luck with enticing a certain cute blond back to your place?'
'Yeah, right. Mr. Winner does not, as he coolly informed, do sex on the first date.'
Duo spluttered with laughter. He could just see Quatre saying that. 'You asked him then?'
'I don't get the guy. He was practically trying to climb down my throat after I dropped him home, and then he acted like I'd tried to rape him when I suggested coming in for a bit.'
'It's just the way he is. It's not you,' Duo said gently. 'He has all these dumb rules about how far he goes on dates. Did you like him?'
Trowa snorted. 'Half the time comes across as a superficial social butterfly who thinks he's God's bloody gift to the universe and expects everyone else to feel the same and then….'
'Yeah,' Duo agreed. 'And then….you realise there's way more to him than that. Been there. Are you going to call him?'
'Get real. He probably wouldn't want me to. There's no point anyway. He comes from a totally different world. Sure, he's having fun pretending he's an ordinary guy, with his dinky little business and all, but I'll bet he's got a trust fund that rivals the GDP of a small country. At some point, he's going to decide to go and be a good son and take over Winner Enterprises, like his daddy wants.'
'You don't know that! He's really not into any of that. I doubt if he's ever even thought about money in his entire life.'
'Yeah, because he's never had to. With that surname, he can just take it for granted, right? Sure, we had fun last night. He's great company when he drops the princess act. But, shit, I couldn't afford the sort of place we went to unless I saved for a year. Seriously, Max, I was given a menu without prices, but I'm pretty damn sure the bill would have paid off third world debt or something. I wasn't sure if they'd even let me in the door when I got there! I don't belong in that sort of world.'
'That's stupid. You can fit in anywhere if you want.'
'If I need to,' Trowa acknowledged. 'Doesn't mean I have to enjoy it. I was shit-scared walking into that place last night. He was sitting there looking like he owned the place and it was all I could do not to turn tail and run.'
'He's a good guy,' Duo said quietly. 'Really, Tro. I like him a lot.'
Silence on the other end of the 'phone. He could just imagine Trowa curled around one his pillows or his dogs and trying to sort out his feelings. 'I haven't told him anything about myself.'
'He'll think the circus stuff is cool, once you don't tell him about the clown thing, and as for the rest of it, well, he knows about me. He knows we go way back and he's not stupid. He's not the sort to hold a person's past against him.'
'What clown thing?'
'He has a phobia. Some incident at a birthday party when he was a kid. If he sees a red rubber nose, he practically starts to hyperventilate.'
Trowa muttered something that could have been a curse or a prayer. 'D'you want to come over tonight?'
'Tonight isn't great. Tomorrow?'
'I'll pick you up at the gallery.'
Well, that had gone OK. Trowa hadn't said anything about Duo needing to get permission or check with Treize before taking off for the night, and Duo hadn't pushed him on the Quatre thing. Which would have been counter-productive anyway. Tro didn't like feeling forced into things. If Duo didn't make a big deal out of it, he might just decide to call Quat.
God, he'd love to have been a fly on the wall at that particular date though.
Seven thirty, just about. He hoped this Yuy guy would be on time. It was boring at the gallery with no one else around. No one human. Laragh was a great listener, but not the world's most riveting conversationalist.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
Exactly on cue, someone tapped on the door.
He was just as delectable in person, Duo decided, sliding the lock. Apart from the glare. And the awful, awful clothes that might have suited his grandfather, but did nothing for a young man in his twenties.
'Mr. Yuy?' Duo smiled winningly. 'I'm Duo Maxwell. I believe you want to look at one of our paintings.'
The glare intensified; he was obviously one of those few people who was oblivious to Duo's charm.
'I was informed that Mr. Khushrenada would be here in person, not a mere employee.'
'I'm afraid Treize has been unavoidably detained. I'm his partner.' Duo didn't bother to elaborate on the word and Yuy nodded, not looking particularly happy.
'Hn. Where is the painting?'
'Follow me, please.' OK, chit chat obviously wasn't going to be on the agenda. 'It's through here.'
It was, Duo supposed, a well-enough executed painting, if you liked girls in frills and ringlets with baskets of tumbling puppies. It wasn't his taste. He couldn't really imagine it being any guy's taste. Not even Quatre's.
He started a little spiel about when it had been painted and a couple of the finer details, and was cut short by one wave of Heero Yuy's hand. He wasn't wearing an engagement ring.
'That won't be necessary. The painting isn't for me.'
Right.
'Is your fiancée interested in Emerson's works, Mr. Yuy? '
'Miss Peacecraft feels, as I do, that a piece of art by a well known artist is a good investment.'
Ouch. What sort of guy called his girlfriend by her title? Duo couldn't imagine himself ever calling Treize Mr. Khushrenada. And a painting was way more than just an investment, even if it was soppy as hell.
'Yes, this is acceptable.'
'Don't you want to … look at it for a bit longer?' Duo asked helplessly.
'There's no point. As I said, it isn't for me and I know nothing about art in any case. I gather fraud isn't uncommon in the art world and I would prefer it to be viewed by an expert, however. I have a friend who works at the National Gallery. I'd like him to see it before I make a final decision.'
Oh, that was just lovely. The Khushrenada Gallery had an excellent reputation on three continents; and this philistine was as good as accusing them of selling forgeries or something. Duo took the card Yuy held out to him, nobly biting back a comment about how he'd read plenty of cases of fraud in I.T. Treize would be so proud of him.
'Chang Wufei. I know him. That's acceptable, yes,' Duo murmured and then bit his lip. Yuy gave an odd little grin instead.
Well, fancy that. Someone actually has a sense of humour.
He looked really, really good when he smiled.
'Thank you for your assistance. Are you authorised to discuss the price? I imagine it's somewhat negotiable.'
'Like I said,' Duo said tartly, 'I'm Treize's partner. That does authorise me to make my own decisions, but no, the price of this painting is fixed.'
Take it or leave it.
Yuy gave him a curt little nod. 'Very well. Do you have a bathroom I could use?'
'It's on the left,' Duo pointed. 'Down the corridor.' Laragh, who had been lurking in a corner, trailed after him. Duo grinned; she obviously wanted to keep an eye on him, make sure he didn't steal anything. It wasn't like there was anything she could damage in the hallway and he'd shut the door to Treize's office.
Hadn't he?
Duo swallowed, thinking. He'd jumped up when the doorbell rang, with Laragh trailing after him and….
'Oh, holy fucking shit.' Laragh was standing by the door, all faithful innocence. There was a suspicious, spreading stain on the centuries-old Ethiopian rug in the corner; the one that had already been reserved for an African diplomat. 'Oh God, Lalla, I can't believe you did that. He's going to kill us. Seriously, I'm dead when he finds out. We're both dead. He's going to freak.'
'What's wrong?' The dark, messy head of Heero Yuy head poked around the door. 'Are you all right?'
'Oh, shit! Excuse me. I'm sorry, you weren't meant to hear that.' He indicated the disaster area on the floor. 'My dog; and note the my in there, has just pissed all over this near priceless, ancient, fucking irreplaceable rug. My boyfriend is going to get back from Nova in a couple of hours and he will not be happy with me. Damn.' He looked glumly at the floor.
Stupid, stupid Maxwell. Treize, who never asked him for anything, had asked him not to bring the dog to the gallery until she was properly trained, and he had.
'I see. I hadn't realised you were his partner in that sense.'
'Every sense.' Heero didn't look unduly perturbed by the revelation; that pre-occupied look seemed to be customary for him. Still, no one who had any sort of connection with Quatre, however tenuous, was likely to be homophobic.
'It's sort of an occupational hazard in the art world, for some reason. Anyway, I'm sorry. You weren't meant to hear all that. If you're ready to go, I'll show you out.'
Fifteen minutes later, he'd called Howard and arranged for the rug to be collected and cleaned.
Damn, damn, damn.
Treize didn't really get angry in the normal sense of the word; he got all cold and remote and icily courteous.
He'd seriously lost it with Duo on only two occasions, both during their first couple of months together. Once, after a fairly minor row, when he'd taken out Treize's horse, simply because Treize had told him he couldn't ride Epyon until he was more experienced. In Duo's world, back then, if you were told you couldn't do a thing, you went straight out and did it.
The other time was when he'd driven home from Tro's house having had too much to drink and a blazing argument. Stupid, yeah, but Trowa sometimes couldn't keep his big mouth shut and he'd had to get away.
Treize had gone awe-inspiringly ballistic both times. Of course, the make-up sex had been fireworks-extravaganza-spectacular, even if Duo had had to carry a cushion around for a week afterward.
He'd still been testing the boundaries back then, still not sure what to make of the fact that he'd apparently stumbled into a fairytale. Part of him had been trying to work out what Treize's angle actually was; part of him had believed the things Trowa had said. And a part of him that he'd thought had died years ago had so desperately wanted it all to be real, while the other part, the survival mechanism, claimed it couldn't possibly be because life just wasn't like that.
Now, chances were, he'd be wearing a ring by that evening. You couldn't get more real than that.
The ring. Proof of ownership, Trowa had called it. He knew, really, that Treize didn't mean it like that. He'd have been horrified at the suggestion, would have said that, if anything, Duo owned him, body, heart and soul.
'Plan B.' Laragh, knowing she was in disgrace, still picked up her head at the slightly more cheerful tone. 'Here's the thing, girl. If you ever get yourself a nice boy wolfhound, and you do something he won't like, you have pick your time to tell him what's wrong. And the best time to do it is usually when you're making him very, very happy.'
There were certain times when he could tell Treize that he'd stacked the Sanque Opera House with every Old Master in the Universe and tossed in a petrol bomb, and Treize would only moan a bit louder and twist his fingers in Duo's hair and after, he was usually too tired to get mad anyway.
He wasn't planning to do that, just because it wouldn't be fair. He'd seriously screwed up; he didn't deserve to get off scot-free. Nothing wrong with making Treize just a bit more mellow first, though.
Duo switched on his phone and sent a quick text. 'Lunch? On me? Lv u. D.' He added a string of hearts, smiley faces and kisses and waited for the 'phone to ring. Treize never texted; he detested almost all forms of modern communication and only carried a mobile 'phone because Duo had given it to him. Predictably enough, Treize called immediately afterwards.
'Hey, gorgeous. Can you talk? Where are you?'
'About forty minutes from Nova. Wait one second; I'll pull over. You'll have to show me how to use that tooth gadget again.'
Tooth? Oh, Bluetooth. Duo had to laugh. It was endearing when it wasn't bloody annoying.
'Have you seen Quatre's friend already? How was he?'
'IT geek. Hardly had two words to string together. Sort of cute, though.'
'I didn't need to know that. Did he like the Emerson?'
'Hard to tell. Said it wasn't for him, so it didn't matter whether he did or not. I think he'll take it though.
'That's fine. I should be back around midday if the traffic isn't too bad. If you're still offering to buy me lunch, I'll be more than grateful.'
'Uh huh.' Duo's grin broadened. 'I never said anything about paying. Read the text again, why don't you?'
'Ah.' Treize's voice changed. 'I see. What exactly did you have in mind?'
'Lu's coming in at eleven; she can hold the fort for a couple of hours if we want to take a long lunch break. It's a nice day. We could have a little picnic. Nothing too heavy; just some cheese and fruit and a few dips and something sweet for dessert. Sound good?'
'It sounds delightful. Love, I'll see you back at the house, shall I?'
'You bet. Listen, I'd better go. There's someone at the door.'
'At this time of the morning? That's odd.'
'Probably the postman with a package. Or a courier. I'll call you back, OK? Good luck with you aunt.'
It wasn't the postman. It was two men wearing identical grey jumpsuits, one holding a clipboard.
'Mr. Maxwell? Could you just sign this work order please?' Duo gaped at them. 'You have an antique rug that requires cleaning. We're here to take care of it.'
'Uh, I'm sorry. I think you've got the wrong place.' Each jumpsuit bore the name of a professional cleaning service, embroidered just under the collar. 'I didn't order anything like this.'
The older man nodded. 'A Mr. Yuy placed the order and has paid in advance, sir. You don't need to worry,' he added. 'He was very specific in his demands. Our firm is one of the most reputable in Europe when it comes to handling delicate, antique items. We have retainers with the Vatican and a number of royal palaces.'
'I see.' Duo swallowed around a burst of hysterical laughter, not seeing at all. What the fuck? This was nuts. No way was he going to let a couple of total strangers take off with something. 'I'm sorry for wasting your time, but I didn't order this. We have our own firm we use for this sort of thing.'
The two men exchanged glances. 'Mr. Yuy was most insistent that the job be carried out with the utmost speed. He has already paid and…'
'Then I suggest you take it up with Mr. Yuy,' Duo said firmly. 'Sorry, guys, no offence but I don't know anything about you or your firm, and that's the end of that.'
'What the hell was all that about?' he wondered aloud, closing the door very firmly in their faces.
