Chezaswulf: You should be worried about Heero :S Thanks for reading and reviewing. I hope you'll stick with this story 'till the end.

Luxissol: Thanks for reading :)

Diamei: Luckily, none of my friends who work in Brussels were anywhere near the attacks, but thank you for your concern. I hope you'll like this update, please let me know.

Chibichocopaws: You'll probably get that sense a lot more often, that a date ends abruptly. I only want to "show" the bits that actually mean something to the story, after the sudden stop, nothing of significance happened. Thank you for continuing to read and sharig your thoughts with me, it's much appreciated :)

Scared of darkness: Thank you :)

CaseyCuervo: Thanks for reading and reviewing :)

Negasonic Teenage Warhead: I hope you'll continue to read to find out :)

Wind dancer1981: Haha, that's weird… I don't think there is anything that suggests incest in this story :S I hope you'll like this update.

PrussianTails: Thank you for taking the time to review :)

Hikaru Itsuko: Shit if definitely going to hit the fan. I don't think saying so is a spoiler, I think part of the appeal of a story like this is that you know you are watching a train wreck about to happen :P Thank you for reading and leaving a review.

Jj: I don't know how long it will take in terms of time to play out, because I don't know how fast I'll be able to update the story. However, I guesstimate that the number of chapters will end up in the early-twenties. If my website doesn't load you can also simply go to youtube and view the video there, just search for me (ExecutiveShrimp).

Konekochu: Sorry! Waiting is sort of the name of the game for my WIP's. I'm not the fastest updater, but I do my best and trust that I will never drop a story, no matter how long it takes to finish it. Thank you for reading and for taking the time to leave a review :)

Wu the Stoic: Thanks for reading! I am so excited to see you are enjoying a lot of my stories, it means the world to me.

Snowdragonct: There is definitely more than enough drama up ahead :S But that's kind of what we thrive on, isn't it? :P Thanks for reading and reviewing :)

Ckhushrenada: I hope I won't disappoint you. Thank you for your encouragement, I hope you will enjoy this update.

Guest: Thank you, I'm glad :)


Author's note:

Hear that? … It's my bed, softly calling my name.

Goodnight, good morning, good afternoon, where ever you are. I hope you'll like this update, we're finally getting to know Heero a little better.

A big thanks to beta Shima Yi. I know I'm not the easiest to work with and now she has the misfortune of knowing it too, but she is sticking with it and I am grateful.


Warnings: Potty mouth.


Beta: Shima Yi


Dirty Job

Chapter 12

Sushi. Squash. Steak. Pasta. Fish. Sushi again. Squash again. Take-away pizza. Pilau at Patrick's. More pasta. Another game of squash – Duo was starting to get good at it. He didn't hold back; he beat Yuy at the game whenever he could, even though the billionaire hated losing. And yet, Duo was invited back every time.

He had hit the same wall as Voss: Yuy tolerated his presence – must've even found some enjoyment in it. He wouldn't suffer his presence three to four times a week – at two-grand a pop – if he didn't get something out of it. Still, Duo was stuck at arm's length. Until he said the magic words, the target would not open up more to him. Problem: he didn't know the magic words.

Duo convinced Neil to have one of his "friends" tail Harold, the assistant. He suspected there was dirt to be found and trusted they could use the assistant as an asset in one way, shape or form – with or without his knowledge. The plan helped the mission, if only by giving Neil something to do. It put some control back in his hands, leaving him too preoccupied to micromanage Duo.

He quickly found an apartment for J.J., a nicer one than his own. He was making quite a bit of money "working" up to four times a week. He picked a place where J.J. would be safe and far removed from his vices. He couldn't stop his little brother from drinking, smoking, shooting up and hooking up with hookers, but he could at least make it a challenge for him. For a lazy fuck like J.J., a 20-minute commute by metro to the nearest club was a sufficient challenge.

The conman was alone again, with his aging issue of Forbes magazine. He caught himself staring at it more often than ever and couldn't explain why. Or just didn't want to.

The blue gaze didn't scare him anymore.

He lay on his back on the couch. The TV was on and the images cast flickering lights on the ceiling, like the Northern lights. He had muted it an hour ago and since then it only served as a single light in the darkness of the studio apartment. The new neighbors downstairs were fighting. The previous neighbor died of an overdose last week. Duo had never even seen the man, until he saw him get carted out of the front door of the building by paramedics. He was convulsing on the gurney and foaming at the mouth.

That could have been J.J.

The neighbor might have been someone's "J.J."

Duo took a long drag from his cigarette.

Tsubarov would gain five million dollars if they were successful, probably more if he decided to claim most of Neil's share as well; for Neil, the reward was the promotion after all, not the money. A large sum like that would expand his business unlike ever before. He could have more chemicals imported, more meth and coke cooked up, hire more goons, buy more guns, and bribe more local officials.

Duo might be able to save his J.J., but other people's "J.J.s" and "A.J.s" would lose their lives to the temptation of readily available drugs. The outbreak of violence would skyrocket as everyone scrambled to get a cut, and enforce their territory.

As if the operation to rob Yuy wasn't morally corrupt enough alone, he'd have that on his conscious too.

Duo suppressed a sob and sucked desperately on the cigarette. "Fuck." He drew in a shaky breath.

His body flinched in response to the buzz of the doorbell. Not in the mood for a visit from his little brother, he intended to ignore it, but the buzzer kept going off insistently. Grumbling under his breath, he put the cigarette out on the surface of the coffee table and headed towards the panel of the intercom.

"Who the fuck is this?"

He was answered by static only, until an unsure voice replied: "It's Calvin," - Well, fuck - "Mister Yuy's driver."

Duo scurried over to the window and looked down into the street. His heart thundered at the sight of the black Rolls Royce – in the pouring rain - parked across the street. Matching black SUVs were parked in front and behind the town car.

He padded back over to the intercom. "What going on? I was supposed to meet him next Sunday," Duo snapped, unsettled by the unexpected visit.

"Mister Yuy would like for you to accompany him to an art exposition this evening."

Duo looked down at himself: stained pajama pants, a threadbare shirt and a moth-eaten sweater. He couldn't look more "street-scum-chic" if he tried.

"I'm not exactly…" He let go of the button to give himself a moment to swallow some colorful curse-words. Holding down the speak button he finished: "Presentable."

"Mister Yuy is quite comfortable waiting for you in the car. He is finishing up a business call."

Of course he is. "So I suppose he wants me to get dressed?" Duo bit his lower lip and hoped he had neatly put away the grey suit Yuy had given him after wearing it last time, or he'd be a wrinkly mess.

"Yes. He would be very pleased if you would join him."

The way Calvin said that made it sound like Duo had a choice, but that was false. "Give- Give me a sec, okay? I gotta find my clothes."

"Sir, I have a suit for you to wear right here. If you could buzz me in, I'll bring it up for you."

"Oh." He felt a little odd being Yuy's dress-up doll, but at least he didn't have to worry about locating the necktie of the previous suit somewhere in the back of his cluttered closet. He buzzed the driver in and tidied himself up a little as quickly as he could before waiting for Calvin to come up the stairs.

He stood in his doorway and watched the tall, lean man approach him with a suit bag draped over one arm, and balancing a shoebox on his free hand.

"Here you go, sir." He handed Duo the bag and the shoebox.

"Thanks. Give me a minute - I'll be downstairs in a little bit." Duo closed the door and rushed to brush his teeth while taking a quick shower, pinning his hair up so he wouldn't get it wet. When he finished rinsing out his mouth and drying off his body, he stalked towards the bed where he had discarded the bag. He unzipped it and paused.

It was a classic suit: Black jacket; Black slacks; White button-up shirt; Black tie. The shoes were black also.

He didn't have any time to stop and think. He got dressed and noted it fit him better than the grey suit. It was obviously not a second-hand suit - Yuy had purchased it for him, remembering to size up the measurements of the shoulders because that was where the previous suit didn't quite fit him properly. He slipped on the shoes – Yuy knew his size thanks to the tennis shoes he lent him for their squash matches. He spritzed on some cologne that he bought specifically for his meetings with the businessman, and then after giving himself a final once-over in the mirror, he had no choice but to accept his fate and go with the flow. He headed out and was a little startled to run into Calvin waiting for him by the door.

"I told you I'd be downstairs in a little while."

"I didn't think it would polite to go back down without escorting you." He fell in step behind the American and followed him down the stairs.

Rain was coming down in buckets by that time, but Duo didn't get wet as he crossed the street to the waiting car. Calvin had an umbrella with him and held it over them both. The man hurried around him to open the car door.

"Thanks." Duo slid into the cream leather of the backseat, next to Yuy. "So, this is a surprise," he said, keeping his tone flat. He didn't want to sound annoyed, but at the same time he didn't want to make it seem like he was perfectly fine with being summoned like this.

Yuy tucked his phone into the breast pocket of his electric blue, three-piece suit after finished up typing a message into his schedule. "The photographer that had his work shown at the other exposition is having his new work shown as part of an ensemble exposition. Since you liked it, I thought you would enjoy it."

Duo couldn't admit that he hadn't even hung the photo Yuy bought him – from that specific photographer – on the wall yet and he wasn't planning to. It wasn't that he didn't like it; the photo was too intense - too real - and looking at it made him feel nervous. The old man in the photo was receiving a kiss of forgiveness, but Duo was starting to lose faith in ever being able to forgive himself. Yuy had been right, art was an experience; he had no idea how much that rang true until he caught himself being jealous of a weathered, elderly man in a black-and-white photograph. Currently, it was leaning against a wall, facing said wall instead of the room.

"I wouldn't exactly call myself a fan," Duo admitted. "Just because I liked one picture doesn't necessarily mean I like his work overall."

"Of course not. But you should find out what you like. You should try it."

He smirked, that was exactly how he convinced the billionaire to eat French fries and stuffed-crust pizza. The man didn't let on much, but he was paying attention to Duo and the words the American said to him registered, even when it seemed like he was ignoring him or brushing him off at the time.

It was a 45-minute drive to a different gallery. They didn't say much so Calvin turned up the volume on the radio a little; the car filled with the delicate, purposeful notes of classical music. Very unlike the pop-y dance beats Duo was used to hearing at the clubs. He didn't mind it - the music was calming and eased away the tension of what would have otherwise been an uncomfortable silence. The music was so worldly and artful that it felt inappropriate to interrupt with meaningless conversation.

He stole looks at his company in the reflection of the black window. Yuy was looking ahead with that focused gaze that Duo was starting to get used to. He watched the rear lights of the SUV in front of them and sometimes seemed to be making eye-contact with Calvin in the rear-view-mirror. The driver would offer him a slight smile that only caused the billionaire to tense up.

Duo twisted around in his seat and looked back at the twin SUV trailing them. The big headlights were so close behind that another car couldn't slip into the space between the two vehicles. "You always leave the house like this? With the entire entourage?"

"My head of security insists on it."

"How many guards do you have?" Duo wondered innocently, with the mission on his mind.

"I don't know exactly, but I have eight with me at all times. They come with me where ever I go."

"What about the house? Shouldn't they protect the house?"

Yuy looked at him finally, but didn't appear distrustful. He had gotten used to Duo asking a lot of questions so he wasn't alarmed by it. "The house is just things. I don't pay them to protect things, I pay them to protect me."

Duo nodded. It was useful to know that whenever Yuy was not home, most of the guards would be away as well. That should make their job a little easier, when the time came.

"Have they ever had to-..." He stopped, unsure how to phrase his question. "Has their presence ever been proven necessary?"

All Yuy said in response was: "They earn their paycheck." From his ambiguous answer it was clear the guards had to step in a couple of times; the conman made a mental note to research it later.

The car stopped and Duo realized this particular exposition was very different from the previous. They stepped out in front of a modern art museum. The geometric building was lit up and the lights from below accented the odd shapes of the architecture with highlights and dark shadows. Velvet rope lined the path to the entry for arriving guests to follow, all dressed in their best suits and finest dresses. It was an elegant affair.

An hour ago, Duo had been lying on his couch, pigging out after a large take-away dinner, and trying to think of something to distract himself with for the evening – masturbation probably.

Right away, someone recognized Yuy and came up to him. The man grabbed his hand to shake it and didn't let go. The guards stood by tensely, ready to pounce - but they were invisible to the guests, who were used to ignoring bodyguards and other personnel. Duo waited, feeling more and more awkward at each passing minute. People looked at him and he felt like he had FRAUD written on his forehead, in permanent ink.

The man took his time idolizing the billionaire, sucking up to him as one does, reciting facts about Y-enterprises as if Yuy wasn't aware of the successes of his own company. The Japanese businessman said very little in response and as soon as he was able to free his hand, he tucked them both in his pockets. He did not like being touched by strangers; a formal handshake he would suffer for the sake of being respectful, but anything beyond that was out of his comfort zone.

Finally the ordeal was over and it appeared Yuy was as relieved as Duo, but just like that, a second "fan" appeared. Luckily, this man was easier to dismiss. When Yuy looked at Duo over his shoulder, he knew it was his cue to join him.

As they walked into the museum where an usher showed them the way to the right exposition hall, Duo commented: "These folks really love you."

"They hate me," Yuy corrected. "Every single one of them." He nodded politely in response to someone's wave.

"What are talking about? You are like all four Beatles-in-one to these guys."

"They kiss my ass because they feel they have to," the businessman rebuffed. "I'm too successful for my age - they resent that. But they are too afraid to be honest with me because if I wanted to, it would take very little for me to bankrupt their companies."

Duo quirked an eyebrow at that.

Yuy nodded at a man in a proper penguin suit. "If I pull the contract I have with his company, he is going to be left with over 500 million dollars in useless materials and equipment that he can't sell to anybody else." He pointedly looked at another. "If I move production to a different country, he is going to lose roughly 300 million dollars of yearly income that I pay him for shipping. And that guy in the brown suit: if I decide to release one of my software programs in China, the competition would kill his program."

"Have you ever done that?" Duo wondered. "Put someone out of business because you didn't like how they treated you?"

"Once." Yuy stopped and looked at him defiantly.

The American swallowed. "Your father."

"Yes."

Yup, "Daddy" issues, Duo thought to himself.

They continued through the hallway and ended up in a grand open space. Framed photos were suspended from the high ceiling with wires, in no discernable order. Portraits, landscapes and still-lives blended together. The ballroom itself was more impressive than anything: the ceiling curved up dramatically to a skylight at the top - at least 40 feet above them - and there were two walkways crisscrossing overhead. The white walls were interestingly texturized; Duo couldn't resist touching it.

Waiters handed out champagne but Duo knew better than to accept a glass at that time. As he politely declined the offer, he caught Yuy watching him. "Like what you see?" He tried being cheeky and bold more often, but it never had the desired effect. Yuy was never really thrown off his game.

The man narrowed his eyes and assessed analytically: "This suit fits you better."

"Uh, yeah. Thanks, by the way."

"But next time we should have one tailor-made for you. The pant leg is too wide at the ankle, the jacket is too boxy and this type of lapel doesn't suit you at all." He looked away, annoyed.

Duo chuckled. "And here I thought I looked pretty fly."

Yuy's gaze darted back to him and he admitted brusquely: "You look good."

Duo took a step towards him. "Yeah?"

One corner of Yuy's mouth curled up ever so slightly, but then he forced on a stoic expression. "Yeah...for a white guy."

Duo's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Yuy promptly walked off to admire one of the artworks, leaving Duo to sputter by himself. With quick steps he followed the man.

Pretty fly, for a white guy? Did that seriously just happen?

"Don't tell me you're secretly into the 90's punk-rock scene."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied innocently.

Duo let out a laugh. For Yuy to drop a reference like that but not be willing to share how he knew the song had Duo suspecting one of his previous paid companions introduced him to it – probably Voss – and he was too embarrassed to talk about it.

He decided not to press on, but couldn't stop grinning. "You're full of surprises."

"I figured you like surprises."

Duo frowned. "How so?"

"Showing up unannounced at my work, at my house, and last week at work again."

The other shrugged. "Well, what can I say? I guess I just had an uncontrollable hankering for Pilau."

Yuy's eyes softened but he pursed his lips to suppress a smile.

"If I say something funny, you're allowed to smile, you know?" Duo teased.

"If it's really funny, I will," Yuy conceded dryly. "Let's focus on the art." He nodded at the picture they were standing in front of: an angled shot of a part of a dilapidated building, with muted colors and the background completely, unrecognizably out of focus, but a fuzzy black shape suggested there was a figure standing by.

"How am I supposed to focus on art now that I have that song stuck in my head?"

"I'm going to greet a couple of people," Yuy announced, "In the meantime, you can walk around and see what you like. Some alone-time will help you experience the work."

As Yuy walked away, Duo called after him: "Alone-time? You make it sound like I'm a five-year old who didn't eat his veggies." He ducked his head between his shoulders when he realized how his voice echoed in the open space, drowning out the subdued, indiscriminate chatter of the other guests.

He turned away from the funny looks he was getting and started to circle the room. He folded his hands behind his back and walked slowly, stopping every once in a while to study a photo. He found himself gravitating to black and whites, and preferring candid shots of people to the staged portraits or the artsy images of buildings and other inanimate objects.

Whenever he could, his eyes searched the crowd, looking for the blue, three-piece suit. He spotted Yuy talking to the man whose business he could bankrupt by moving production from one factory to another. The older man talked to him with enthusiastic, big gestures and exaggerated amicable touches to the arm and shoulder. He was smiling from ear to ear and laughed heartedly at every other word that came out of Yuy's tight mouth.

Duo didn't understand how the Japanese man could stand such obvious deception. He gave the man credit for not being so blinded by his own ego that he fell for the over-the-top adoration, but he had to wonder if Yuy liked the ass-kissing more than he let on – perhaps even more so - precisely because he knew how much those men hated being at his mercy.

When Yuy made eye contact with him, Duo quickly redirected his attention to the art. After a few heartbeats, he inconspicuously looked to the side again, but Yuy had gone to mingle with someone else. The only indication Duo had of his location was the bald head of one particularly tall bodyguard, who shadowed the billionaire's every step. Two of the other guards were stationed at the only entrance to the large room; the rest were probably spread out throughout the building, patrolling the perimeter and keeping an eye on the car.

He took a deep breath and fidgeted with his tie.

From the corner of his eye he noticed a figure in blue approaching him. He fixed his gaze on the picture in front of him intently to keep up pretenses.

Yuy came to stand beside him but said nothing.

"So do you know every rich guy in the state, or do you pick out these events with the intention of networking, knowing they'll be here?" Duo inquired, not peeling his gaze away from the photo.

"Actually, I think some of these men come to the expositions only because they know I'll be here."

"Then they are not paying attention."

Yuy looked at him but Duo kept staring at the picture.

"You wouldn't have come to this exposition if it wasn't for me; you don't like photography," he observed. "You like the abstract stuff. Makes me wonder how many other evenings they wasted going to expositions you wouldn't even consider going to." He faced Yuy with a smirk.

"Looks like you're paying attention."

Duo shrugged. "It's not difficult to notice. You have a mansion full of artwork but not a single piece is a photograph. Heck, you don't even have pictures of loved ones at your place," he tried to joke. "Why is that anyway?"

"The obvious reason."

Duo waited, hoping he would state the obvious.

Yuy looked at him coldly. "There is no one who I love."

"Not much use for pictures, then." Duo didn't have any pictures either, but not because he didn't love anyone. He loved J.J.; he loved A.J.; he loved WuFei, at one point. He didn't exactly have a picture-perfect life, so he never thought of taking anyone's picture. There was never the right occasion; every moment was laced with fear and despair, even the times they laughed. He didn't even have a camera. Hell, he didn't even have a cellphone until recently: a burner phone Neil gave him that he never used.

"No."

"Is that why you don't like photography? Because it's just plain awkward having pictures of strangers in your house when you have no photos of family or friends?" He probed.

"No, that's not it. I don't care that I have no family or friends." He was lying, but there was a possibility that he didn't even realize he was lying to himself as well.

"What's the reason?"

"You first," Yuy shot back. He nodded at the photo in front of them and asked: "Why do you like photography and not 'the abstract stuff'?"

"What makes you think I don't like the abstract stuff?"

"The fact that you call it 'the abstract stuff'."

Duo smiled. "Fair enough. I guess," he paused and studied the picture, "I guess I like the realness of it. There is no bullshit - it is what it is. This is the world, this is life and you can't make it seem any prettier by painting it in a different color. A photo doesn't lie - it's truth, in all its detail and imperfection."

Yuy nodded along as he listened carefully to Duo's reasoning.

The American watched him look at the photo – really look at it – like he was seeing it for the first time, even though they had been standing in front of it for a while, staring at it so they wouldn't have to stare at each other; he appreciated that Yuy tried to see it the way Duo saw it.

He nudged him with his shoulder and smiled playfully in response to the surprised glance the casual touch earned. "Your turn. Why don't you like it, Heero?" He used the name purposefully; he liked the way it sounded - rolling off his tongue - and the other liked it too.

"It's not so much the case that I don't like photography," Yuy corrected. "I simply have a preference for abstract art."

"Okay, so why's that?"

"Personally, I feel a photograph is cluttered with unnecessary detail that distracts from the message, or the truth, as you said. In an abstract piece, all distractions are filtered out. What is put on the canvas is the core of what the artist wants you to feel. It's not important in what way someone's hair falls, - " he gestured at the women's hair blowing in the wind, " - or what is worn. If they are sitting or standing; if they are men or women, rich or poor, black, white, Asian, Muslim... Abstract art takes away everything that is insignificant - or supposed to be anyway – and distills down to the essence, a 'truth' that rings true for everyone. Someone might look at this and feel disconnected because they can't identify with these people; because what they're watching is someone else's 'truth'. With abstract art, there are no faces of others – you can put yourself in it, and therefore see your own 'truth'."

Duo was riveted by his words. He stared at his eyes as he spoke, noting the undeniable honesty and vulnerability. It was made apparent once more - just like during their conversation at Patrick's two weeks ago: Yuy wanted to be like everyone else. Not a rich man, just a man - just a person, rather. But for someone who had it all, it was easy to dismiss money, status and power as unimportant. Still, Duo heard the loneliness in his voice and he sympathized with him. Maybe being loved only because you are wealthy is just as bad as being hated only because you are poor. Yuy certainly made a compelling case.

Yuy hardened his gaze before he faced Duo again.

Duo smiled. "Maybe you could take me to your kind of exposition next time, show me what you see."

"Maybe... Maybe I'll show you my private collection someday."

Knowing that to be a personal and intimate thing for Yuy, he said gently: "I'd like that."

"Did you see any you like?" Yuy asked, changing the subject.

Duo let out a chuckle. "Yeah, but I'm not going to tell you which ones; I don't want you to buy me anything. Besides, I kinda see what you mean about the pictures being about someone else, not me - not my 'truth'." He thought of the framed photograph - titled "Forgiveness" - resting against the wall in his apartment, how that kind of absolution might never be Duo's reality, only something to be envious of.

The billionaire nodded. "Then I guess we're done here. I'll take you home."

"Don't," Duo blurted out. He didn't want to go home; the thought of being alone again made him anxious. Yuy wasn't his friend and their time together was never for fun, but he preferred it to being home with just his thoughts. "Let's go have a drink someplace first."

"A drink?" Yuy cocked an eyebrow at the novel notion.

"Yes."

"Someplace?"

"Anywhere is fine with me." Seeing that Yuy required a little more convincing to go along with the suggestion, Duo continued: "You see, I was having a really crappy evening before you showed up. I don't want to go back to that yet."

Yuy eyed him carefully, trying to decide if the man was being genuine or not, and whether or not he wanted to play along regardless. "Okay. We'll have a drink." He signaled to one of his guards. The man jogged ahead to get everyone and the cars ready to leave.

As they walked out of the museum, Duo let their shoulders bump intentionally with every step and was encouraged when Yuy did not move away from him. Just as they arrived at the curb, the three cars pulled up - Calvin stayed at the wheel as the guards opened the doors for Yuy and his guest.

"Home, sir?" The driver asked once his passengers got settled in the backseat.

"The bar," Yuy instructed. "We're having drinks."

"Yes, sir. I'll call ahead to let them know you're coming."

Duo wondered where he would be swept off to as they drove for another 40 minutes. He had no idea if they were getting closer to home or going even further away from it. He stopped thinking about it as soon as he realized it didn't matter.

They arrived in front of a tall hotel building, and took the elevator up to the top floor. The doors opened to an elegant, modern interior of black and white design softly lit by overhead, crystal chandeliers that bathed the surfaces in a warm light, giving a pleasant, inviting atmosphere to what would have otherwise been a colorless and cold space.

A single bartender in a black vest over a crisp, white button–up stood behind the bar, and one waiter idled by. Other than those two, there was no one else present.

The guards stayed behind at the elevator and Duo followed the businessman to one of the low tables at the center; they both took a seat on the black leather lounge chairs opposite of each other. The creaking of the leather was loud in the quiet bar which made Duo feel self-conscious.

The waiter wasted no time - he welcomed them cordially and asked for their drink orders.

"The regular," was all Yuy said.

"Uhm, Vodka Sour, please," Duo said when the waiter turned his attention to him.

"A preference for any particular brand, sir?"

"No. Any is fine," he answered dismissively.

Yuy interjected: "He'll have the Kors."

The waiter nodded and excused himself to fetch their drinks that the bartender was already making, being able to hear them in the dead quiet. The clinging of crystal wear, the final polish of the glasses, the unscrewing and uncorking of bottles, the scooping up of ice, and the pouring liquid... -everything was audible. Duo was even afraid to swallow, worried it'd be heard as well.

There was a piano on a small, raised platform close to them... but no one was there to play it.

Where is everybody?

The waiter returned with their drinks; Duo's Kors' Vodka Sour, and some kind of cocktail – a blend of golden whiskey and red wine sitting on top – for Yuy. He placed the glasses on the table, dulling the sound with his little finger. The American watched him walk away and the bartender leave with him - they went through double, swinging doors at the back. He cocked his head to the other side, at the empty spot where the guards had been only a minute ago.

Unsure of the meaning of it all, Duo brought his glass to his lips and took a sip; before saying anything, he needed to fuel his courage in the alien situation. The drink – mixed with a much more expensive vodka than his palette was used to – burned far less in his throat and left him undecided as to whether he liked that or not. Part of the drink's appeal to him had been the almost-masochistic burn in the back of his throat at each gulp.

"So this is weird," Duo remarked, pointedly looking at the empty seats around them.

"When I have a drink, I like to enjoy it with peace and quiet."

"But where is everybody?"

"The hotel manager clears the bar for me whenever I come here."

He stared. "The hotel manager makes his guests leave so you can be by yourself up here?"

"He is well-compensated for the effort."

"Yeah, but what about the guests?" Duo fired back.

"They are too: they're all enjoying a complementary 1996 Salon champagne in their hotel suites as we speak."

Duo blinked at Yuy's matter-of-fact answer.

"How do you like your Vodka Sour?" Yuy took another sip of his own drink.

"Uhm," Duo twisted his wrist, rolling the glass in his hand, watching the liquid move. "I guess it's 'more bitter' than it is sour."

"Did they make it wrong?"

"No no, it's not that. It's bitter because I don't feel comfortable knowing you interrupted people's evening to have this place to yourself." It was a huge risk being that honest with him, but Duo hoped the man really did like people who were not afraid of challenging him - like Voss said.

Yuy's jaw tightened. He brought his drink to his lips again but kept looking at Duo over the rim of the glass. "I just want to be left alone when I'm having a drink at the end of the day."

The fact that he was trying to explain himself relieved Duo; the dialogue was still open, and he didn't get shut down for his "insubordination". "If that's what you want then you should have a drink at home."

"I don't have a bartender at home." Yuy paused to look away pensively. "I suppose I could hire one..."

Duo snorted at the logic but made sure to flash a smile. "Or you could just learn to make the drink yourself."

"Hn." Yuy took another sip.

"How did you find this place anyway?" Duo needed to keep the conversation going - the silence dragging on felt like wasted time.

"I stayed at this hotel while the tower was under construction and my house was still being renovated. I lived here for about two months, when I wasn't away on business, that is."

"Must be a pretty great hotel to keep a guy like you happy. I mean, given the kind of places you live in." Duo sipped from his glass, starting to get used to the smoother feel of the liquid.

"It was fine."

Just fine? Duo wordlessly shook his head at how spoiled the man was. "How much does it cost to spend two months at a hotel like this?"

"The suites were 11-hundred dollars per night - I had three, and four standard rooms for my guards."

The conman was surprised at receiving an actual answer to what was a pretty rude question. His eyes nearly popped out at the numbers. "Why three suites - one bed not enough for you?"

"I slept in the middle suite. I rented the suites on either side to avoid ending up with noisy neighbors."

Duo laughed. "Yeah, those are the worst. But you know you can buy earplugs for a couple of bucks, right? That's how I dealt with my noisy neighbors, in the beginning. But, honestly, I've gotten so used to the background noise that I can sleep through a freight train rolling through my apartment at this point."

"Can't you afford a nicer place with the money I pay you every week?" Yuy asked bluntly.

"Uh," Duo put away his glass and fidgeted with the hem of his suit jacket for a moment. "Yeah... I suppose."

"Or does your-" Yuy stopped himself to think about the wording for a second, "-employer get most of it?"

The American snapped his head up to glare at the other man. "I don't have a pimp," he bit. "I work for myself - nobody controls me." Oh, how he wished that was the truth.

Yuy coldly continued: "Then you are making more than enough money to move into a nicer, quieter building with the money you're getting from me and the 'Jerry Horns' in the world."

'Jerry Horn'? Duo was confused...until he remembered that was the name of the guy whose wallet he had stolen right before his first lunch with the Japanese businessman.

He considered his answer for a while, looking for a way that would put a spin on it proved beneficial to his mission. "I don't make long-term decisions based on short-term situations."

"What does that mean?"

"Well, this is temporary, right?" He gestured between the two of them. "Sooner or later, you're going to get bored with me and move on to the next guy. Then I'd be down to living off the so-called 'Jerry Horns' I come across. That alone is not enough to pay for a nice place in a decent part of town, and take care of my responsibilities."

Yuy pursed his lips in thought. "Why are you assuming that this arrangement is temporary?"

Duo genuinely snorted. "Come on - that's how these things go, right? We aren't fucking 'Romeo and Juliet' – star-crossed lovers, destined to be together. I'm a whore. You're my 'John'. These things aren't meant to last."

"Romeo and Juliet died after having 'known' each other for only 24 hours - I've been on flights that long. We've already exceeded the timeline of the ultimate 'star-crossed' lovers."

"Fine," Duo conceded with exasperation, "wrong example. You should know I never actually read the damn book."

"It's a play," the other corrected routinely.

Duo glared at him, but was disarmed by the tiny smirk - maybe Yuy was trying to tease him, not aggravate him. "Whatever; you know what I mean. One day, I'm going to get the boot. That's your M.O., right?"

Yuy sat back. Needing to push the issue so he could, albeit reluctantly, open up to the idea that maybe this time should be different – guilt-trip him into it, if he had to - Duo continued with: "I know you've been doing this for a while: you invite guys over to keep you company, but it never lasts." He watched the man's hand tighten around his glass. "I'm not so stupid to think of myself special enough for this to go differently just because it's me."

The businessman stared at him, but he was hard-to-read. He was conflicted about something – perhaps his need for companionship battling with the ease and familiarity of being a social recluse – but Duo couldn't possibly be certain. That was one of the most infuriating things about the man: he hid his emotions well. Duo suspected he hid them because, for the most part, Yuy himself was unsure of what he was feeling, and how he should act or react to the experience.

"I-" Duo stopped and took a moment to think, "-It's okay, I'm not expecting anything. I'm just enjoying it while it lasts and when it's over, it's over; I'll land on my feet again."

Yuy nodded but averted his eyes to the gold and burgundy drink in his hand. "It's wise not to count on this to last."

Duo swallowed at the cold, detached tone.

The Japanese man let the tip of his index finger trace the glass's rim. "But I also don't want you to assume that this time can't be different..."

The conman raised an eyebrow at the other. As he spoke, Yuy's voice got softer than usual - almost demure - betraying his vulnerability. It was a rare, honest moment and although a breakthrough, it left Duo feeling very uncomfortable.

"If you want this time to be different, you have to, at least, try to be different." Yuy only stared in response to the demand. Duo followed up: "It can't go on like this; it won't work like this."

"Like what?"

"You keeping me at arm's length. That's going to get old real soon - for both of us. If we're going to hang out more often, we might as well try to get to know each other. Who knows - maybe we can be friends."

"Friends?" Yuy was befuddled by the notion; he shook his head. "I don't need friends."

Duo smiled; that's exactly what he said last time, during their first game of squash. He was lying then too.

Deciding to take on a bolder approach to keep Yuy from avoiding the issue, he called him out: "You're lying."

"Excuse me?"

"You're lying," Duo restated calmly. "If you didn't need friends, you would've never invited over in the first place, like all those other guys. And I definitely wouldn't still be here." Yuy looked offended at having the truth thrown in his face. "You don't just need a friend - you want a friend. And you've been trying to make it happen, but you don't know how to go about it."

"What makes you think you know me well enough that you can draw these conclusions?" He spat.

"I don't know you, but I do know people, and you're a guy just like any other. The fact that you have more stuff than the rest of us doesn't mean you don't need the same things we do - the same things I do." Duo's heart started to pound as he said those words and acknowledged that they were the truth: he was just a guy.

Yuy cocked his head and raised his eyebrows, to which Duo asked: "Would it make you feel better if I admitted that I want us to be friends? Would that make you feel less vulnerable?"

Yuy stiffened in his seat; he wasn't going to say anything, but he didn't have to: the hope in his eyes was all too apparent. He didn't even know how much he was saying without saying anything at all.

"I'd like us to be friends," Duo reiterated, hoping he could get through to him - find an opening that he could worm into.

"How can we be friends if I still pay you?" the man countered, trying to regain some control over the dialogue, and his own emotions that warred behind the calculated façade.

"Don't see it as payment," he replied glibly with a smirk. "See it as helping out a friend. Like a-uh... Like a loan."

"But you're not going to pay me back," Yuy correctly surmised.

"Well, we all have that one friend that we loan cash to knowing full-well that we're never going to get it back. But we do it anyway, because we're friends."

"I don't have a friend like that."

Duo chuckled and asserted: "Now you do... Buddy." He grinned widely at him, but eased it into a small smile, something reassuring as opposed to victorious.

Yuy looked thrown off-balance; he was definitely out of his comfort zone. "What does that mean? Being 'friends'?"

The American knew he had an uphill battle ahead of him with the socially-stunted billionaire, but they had just taken a huge step forward so he wasn't deterred. "Tell me stuff about yourself."

The cobalt-blue eyes narrowed. "I think you know more about me than you let on."

Duo expertly danced out of the tough spot by retorting: "It doesn't matter what I know. It matters what you tell me."

"And what about you? You will tell me things about yourself, correct?"

Duo's lips tightened.

"That's how friendship is supposed to work, right? A two-way street?" Yuy formulated his words as a question, but in spite of the intonation, Duo knew he had stepped beyond his insecurities and was making a demand.

He nodded his consent. "Yeah, that's right. It's only fair."

Yuy fired away instantly. "Why were you having a bad evening?"

Duo let out a laugh. "Why do you get to go first, huh?" He realized the man wasn't going to let him off the hook, but he didn't need him to let him off. This was exactly what the conman wanted. Never forgetting to utilize the truth whenever it worked in favor of the con, he replied candidly: "I've been worrying a lot about my brother. He always gets himself in trouble."

Yuy's jaw clenched and his gaze shot to his drink as he avoided eye contact.

Oh yeah, there was definitely a brother, Duo confirmed. Pretending not to notice, he continued on: "He got kicked out of his apartment, so he had to stay with me for a while. I hated every second of it, but at least I could keep a close eye on him. Now that I found him a place of his own again, I worry more." The other was unresponsive. He took a big gulp from his drink and made a face like all of a sudden he was dissatisfied with the taste. "I always try to keep him out of trouble. But it seems like it's his life's mission to get himself into trouble, you know?" Again, no response; Duo took another big drink, in a hurry to empty his glass, but he seemed to struggle swallowing and stomaching the liquid. The topic was making him very uneasy.

"Do you have a brother?" He shot point-blank; to avoid arousing suspicion he added: "Or a sister?"

"No," was the curt reply. Duo nodded and finished his drink, hoping the alcohol would dull the stinging pain in his heart. Yuy definitely had a brother, but based on the man's response, the brother was likely dead. He had no trouble sympathizing; the fear of losing his own brother had been with him ever since A.J. burdened him with the responsibility of taking care of him. He didn't even want to imagine what it would be like to live the reality of that fear.

"His name is Jared, but ever since he was little he insisted on being called J.J.," Duo continued. He needed to keep plucking at that sensitive nerve, hoping Yuy would give him more of a reaction that he could work with, "because Jared wanted to be cool like his big brother, who everyone called A.J."

The man regarded him with a question in his eyes. "So you have two brothers?"

Duo swallowed. Technically, he didn't have a single, biological brother, but now was not the time to make that distinction; he did always view A.J. as his "big brother", even though they were never more than best friends. He risked a lie and answered: "Yeah- I mean, I did. A.J. died a long time ago," the raw emotions in his voice were genuine. He never talked much about A.J. not even to his little brother - the full force of the loss hit him every time.

Yuy's breathing quickened. He thought long and hard about how to formulate the question that Duo could already read in his eyes; he only managed to use one word: "How?"

The American rubbed his palms on his pants-covered legs. He hated having to share this with the man, but he had no choice; he had to gain Yuy's trust and make him open up to him. It was a give and take.

"A.J., he-" he cleared his throat and took a moment, "- he took care of us. I don't expect you to understand, but in our world, when you have people you need to care of, you don't have much choice... Sooner or later, you have to cross a line - your own line – and the legal line. I mean- fuck... He wasn't a bad guy; he was a good guy - the way we all start out... But the good guys don't make it out there."

Watching Yuy observe him with a blank stare angered him; he could just imagine the way the man was judging him. "He worked odd jobs - we all did - but it never lasted. There was never a place for us, not a single business could afford to pay an extra paycheck for more than a couple of weeks. But in one line of work, there was plenty of money to be made and plenty of vacancies to be filled."

"Drugs."

"Yeah... Drugs." Duo wrung his hands together. "A.J. started dealing and the money started rolling in. But A.J. was a fool; he thought he could deal drugs and still be 'the good guy'. He refused to carry a gun, thought he wouldn't need it. He just dealt with local kids: selling baggies of only a couple of grams, nothing big." He shook his head. "Like any business, they had to deal with competition eventually.

"The local businesses went under because a big 'corporation' moved into town." Tsubarov's gang. "They didn't do much at first: they'd stop by and harass A.J. a little - did the whole 'carrot-and-stick' routine on him. He could join them and he'd be set for life; or he could keep standing in the way of their monopoly, and they'd have to get rid of him. He didn't want to work for them; he knew they would make him cross too many lines.

"I told him to get a gun to protect himself from those guys. He didn't want to, but I made him; I told him I'd rather have him end up as a bad guy than as a dead guy." Duo took a deep breath and released it slowly. Yuy made no attempt to comfort him and kept his cold gaze fixed on him.

"What happened?"

"Give me a second, okay?!" Duo had half a mind to storm out of the bar, but with clenched fists he remained seated and finished his story.

"So A.J.'s on his usual corner – dealing - when the beat-cops show up. He tries to hide the coke by stuffing it in his inside-pocket. But when he moves to hide the bag, he exposes the gun to the cops, so they draw their guns and all they see is his hand going into his pocket." He scrubbed his face with his hands; he was angry more than anything. "They shot him. I-... I hear the gunfire - our apartment was right around the corner - and I didn't even think anything of it... Just another shoot-out, that's what I thought.

"A few hours later, the cops show up and they more-or-less tell me offhandedly that they shot him; then they start ransacking the apartment, looking for more drugs. Those cops... they didn't give a damn. 'Job well done' - that's their idea of how that day went. They were only disappointed that they didn't find anything in the apartment, or they could have nailed me too." His entire body was trembling; he wished he had another drink to calm his nerves.

"I made him get that gun... He wouldn't have had it, if not for me. I may as well have shot him with it myself." Duo chuckled darkly. "And the real kicker? The official report comes out a few months later and says that the gun wasn't even loaded. He bought the gun to appease me, but never bought any ammo for it; so not only was he not going to shoot those cops, he never intended on shooting anybody with it."

"The police officers couldn't have known that: he was a drug dealer with a gun. If he was a good guy, he hid it well."

Duo flared his nostrils and seethed: "Fuck you, Heero! What the fuck do you know about what it takes to make it in the 'real' world, huh!? You don't know the kind of lengths people like us have to go through to put food on the plate and keep a roof over their heads! You were born with a silver spoon in your mouth, then upgraded to a gold, diamond-encrusted one. You don't get to question if A.J. was a good guy or not - You don't know shit about life!"

"You're right. I shouldn't have said that," Yuy replied. "I'm sorry."

Duo blinked at him, recognizing that the man wasn't usually the type to apologize. It effectively deflated him.

"But," the Japanese man added, "I do know about life. You think I have it easy because I've never been short on money, but money only solves one kind of trouble: Money trouble. Everything else...-" he paused to give it careful thought, but decided against saying any more. A bitter smile appeared on his face.

"Tell me," Duo urged gently, regaining control over his feelings.

"About what?"

"About the 'everything else'. Tell me something real - so far, all I've seen is a guy who has it all."

Yuy responded wryly: "Then you're not paying as close attention as I thought you were because I'm the guy who has 'nothing'." He folded his hands together in his lap and stared at the door on the other end of the open space, revealing his subconscious wish to flee. Still, rather bravely, he opened up: "You blame yourself for your brother's death, but you couldn't have known that it would go like that."

"..." Duo held his breath.

"I knew exactly what I was doing...when I killed my father."

Duo's eyes widened at the quiet confession. Yuy's tone was casual and detached, but there were dark emotions rooted in the tight lips and white knuckles, and the way he wouldn't meet Duo's gaze.

"My father had a pretty successful software company," Yuy started, not knowing that Duo knew this already from his research into the businessman. "He wanted me to take over one day; he had been preparing me for it my entire life. But I didn't want what he had built. I wanted to build something for myself and not owe him anything, or else I would never be free of him.

"I developed my own software and started my own company. Y-enterprises steadily grew, and within a few years the expanding business threatened his company - he would soon go bankrupt. It took him seven years to swallow his pride and come to me to beg me to not put him out of business.

"I knew his work was his only purpose in life - the only thing he ever loved..." He stopped at the poignant words. "I took it from him, knowing it would destroy him. I wrecked his company, piece by piece. It was all I wanted. It was my 10-year business model."

Duo listened, barely able to hear over the thundering noise of his beating heart.

"Two years ahead of schedule, Kouta Yuy Software Solutions went under: my father had buried himself in loans trying to keep the business afloat. A few days later, in the middle of the night, he calls - drunk. For the first time in my life, he tells me that he's proud of me. I had become exactly what he wanted me to be: A ruthless businessman." Yuy sighed and looked down at his hands - they lay limp in his lap at that point. The anger had washed away, replaced by something different, something more... bleak.

"The next day I get another call: He killed himself that night. I knew he would. I had known for eight years that he would, yet it never stopped me." He looked at Duo, trying to gauge his reaction to the shocking confession. Duo kept himself as composed as he could, but his breath hitched in his throat when those blue eyes settled on him.

"So, you're right. I don't get to question if your brother was a good man or not. I'm not a good man myself; I became the very thing my father always wanted me to be... I became just like him. Now, work is the only thing I have - the only thing I love - and there is no going back," he concluded.

"I'd like to think we can always go back," the American said meekly. "We do what we have to do - we become who we have to become to make it work. But we always get to come back from being the bad guy..."

Duo shook his head at himself, not even believing his own words. Betraying Heero would be another mistake he would have to bear for the rest of his life, with no kiss of forgiveness to absolve the guilt. He was just a fucked-up guy, like him. No better, no worse. And he even admitted to that, something Duo initially didn't think the billionaire was capable of.

Yuy wasn't full of himself; he was full of pain and suffering, and just like any guy Duo ever came across on the street, he became whatever he had to be to deal with that pain: exact revenge on his father, and then shut himself off from any emotion. This went deeper than simple "Daddy" issues. Kouta did something - something horrible – and perhaps it had to do with the absent mother and the apparently-dead brother. It was jarring to be faced with the reality that, in spite of his wealth, Yuy's life was brutalized by hurt.

And in two months' time, Duo was only going to make it worse... He took a moment to control his breathing and wait for his heart-rate to slow down. He felt like he was on the verge of having a panic attack. He didn't want to have another outburst, like he had with J.J.

"Maybe we can be friends," Yuy said, in that emotionless, detached tone that was his security blanket. "We have something very important in common."

"Oh, yeah?" Duo croaked.

"We're both really fucked up."

He smiled sadly. "That we are." He scratched at his nose, pretending to have an itch. Instead, he needed an excuse to cover his mouth with his hand to hide the trembling lower lip from Yuy's sight. Sitting across from him was a reflection of himself: A son of a broken home. A brother. Alone. A man corrupted by heartache. A lost soul yearning for forgiveness.

This was not the man that was on the cover of Forbes magazine... This was not the man he had agreed to lay waste to.

Voss had been right - Duo said the right thing and he was "worthy" now. Yuy could open up to him because he knew he would understand, and he did... That was the problem.

Duo understood his pain, his fragility, his guardedness. But it didn't change anything; he had to go through with the mission.

He doesn't deserve to get hurt again...but neither do I! Duo tried to rationalize. I shouldn't have to lose my little brother - not after everything I've already lost!

He stared into those blue eyes, staring right back at him.

I'm sorry.


I'm sorry too.

For being evil, that is.