Mission One
Chapter 24: For Luck
.
George tenses as the murmur of soft voices drifts out of the kitchen. Beside him, Kathy places her hand on her husband's forearm and rubs soothingly.
"Relax," she tells him with a smile. "It's her first time..."
He nods once. "I kn-know." That is what has him so worried.
"And we have plenty of antacids and Pepto-Bismol in the medicine cabinet."
George doesn't remind her that neither of those stomach aids have been known to cure food poisoning.
And then it's too late; the kitchen door swings open with a swish! Taki holds aloft her masterpiece—a glazed ham baked with pineapple rings and maraschino cherries—with Jaspien (clutching a plate of homemade brownies) preceding her.
"G-god d-damn," George mutters. "Th-this is fr-freakier th-than Heero's c-cooking debut."
He hadn't meant to let anyone hear that observation, but apparently he hadn't spoken softly enough. Taki's head snaps up and her eyes lock onto him.
"Heero?" she echoes, oddly enough ignoring George's comment regarding the situation's freak-factor. "You taught Heero how to cook?"
George fidgets an affirmative response.
"Did you happen to make any videos of that?"
A small grin pulls at the edge of his mouth. "L-looking for pr-proof?"
Her brows arc. "More like entertainment." She places the dish between her hands on the table. "Heero. Cooking." Taki shakes her head. "That I'd like to see."
Kathy grins. "It was pretty amusing."
"Was he all squinty-eyed?" Taki presses.
"And glaring," Kathy continues, laughter mingling with her voice. "And- and when he- he realized he'd chopped the onions instead of cubing them, he- he..."
George, despite himself, grins widely and finishes her sentence, "Gr-growled."
Taki snorts and feels tears of humor gather in her eyes.
Kathy, still delirious with mirth, glares so hard at her plate her eyes nearly cross as she demonstrates, "Rrrrr..."
Unsure of exactly what is so hilarious, Jaspien watches the three adults in the room dissolve into fits of laughter. After a bit, Kathy, noting Jaspien's silent confusion, winds down enough to tell him, "I'm sorry Jaspien. It's just that when I think of Heero growling at an omelet..."
Cocking his head to one side, Jaspien replies, "But I think Hero has a good growl."
And that comment sets everyone off again. And, again, Jaspien is left in the dust. With a shrug, he stops trying to understand the three of them and just puts the plate of brownies on the table.
"He looked good in that apron, too," Kathy manages to squeak out.
"Hey!" George objects, trying to look jealous.
Taki snickers at the pair of them... and the image of Heero, glaring, growling, in an apron. Oh. Dear. God. Mustering up a bit of will power, she pulls out a chair. "Here, pop a squat, Jas."
As Jaspien climbs into the chair, Taki stands beside hers and clears her throat. "Okay, everyone. Time to get serious." And Taki swallows back a gleeful grin as she imagines Heero doing this: making a speech over his first post-George dinner. "Tonight you will have the honor of sampling a variety of dishes prepared by L2's new culinary duo." She gestures grandly to the boy next to her. "Jaspien." They share a grin. "And me, of course."
"Of c-course" is George's rather dry comment.
Kathy sniffs with obvious appreciation. "It smells great, you two."
"It is great," Jaspien defends.
"Well, then, what are we waiting for?"
Dinner proceeds and no one dies. Or makes a mad dash for the bathroom. Or gags. Taki and Jaspien grin happily at the pure magic of the moment. The evening gets even better when George and Kathy insist on cleaning up the kitchen for them. Neither Taki nor Jaspien say a word; they know what kind of horrors await their test subjects—er, guests.
The silence from the kitchen is telling. Taki strains to catch the reactions of the volunteers. She thinks she hears a rather masculine-sounding sob. But then someone turns on the water faucet in the sink and all other sound is overwhelmed. With a soft sigh, she says, "Well, that went well, don't you think, Jas? We didn't even have to clean all that flour off the walls!" Taki glances at Jaspien when a reply is not forthcoming. "Jas?"
She finds Jas poking at the remains of his dinner with his fork, his expression sad and somewhat sullen. Feeling a little awkward at his sudden change in attitude, she ventures, "Aren't you happy? We cooked something. A lot of somethings. And, like, nobody died. That's a major accomplishment in my book."
The boy nods once and pokes at the brownie crumbs with a little more force. "I, um..."
"Um?" Taki urges.
Very softly, he says, "It would have been nice to, you know, have Hero and Duo eat with us, too."
Taki slumps into her seat. "Yeah," she agrees. "I miss Wufei and Yokaze, too. I'm... worried about them."
Jaspien sends her an astonished look. "But Wufei won the fight with Hero."
Looking into Jaspien's face, Taki has to smile. "Yeah, you're right. Bullets bounce off those guys."
"Taki?"
"Yeah?"
Grinning the boy says in a conspiratorial tone, "I'm glad you think so, too." His eyes sparkle. "I don't feel so crazy anymore."
Taki laughs. "Hey, we'll be crazy together."
Jaspien giggles. "Okay."
Leaning back with mock affront, Taki demands, "Okay? OKAY? Don't you want to be crazy with me?"
Jaspien eyes his cooking partner warily. "Taki?"
"Yes?"
He pauses, briefly considering her before speaking. "You're not crazy."
She tries to look indignant.
He continues, "You're just plain weird."
In the kitchen, over the sound of pans clinking together and water running, George and Kathy pause to listen to the peals of laughter coming from the other room. They listen, look at each other, and—silently—decide not to investigate.
.
Duo stares at his computer screen, ignoring the only other presence in the room. Wufei and Quatre had already left for another day of endless meetings. Yokaze can be heard double checking her pockets and weapons in the main room of the suite. And the sound of water gushing into the shower announces Trowa's activities. And the subtle rustle of cloth against skin from a few feet away announces Heero's.
Not for the first time since their earlier mission, Duo opens his mouth to demand just what in the bloody everlasting hell had happened a few hours ago. That "be careful" ... that look... that phone call to Trowa... risking the mission by ordering an override of the fans... But if Duo is completely honest, he must admit that what bothers him the most is Heero risking his own life by reaching in after him, not even bothering to secure himself with a tether beforehand. Just acting on impulse...
And what about that impulse? The impulse that had made Heero so reckless? And reckless not only with his own life, but with the lives of the others? He'd nearly blown their cover and thrown his own life away just by jumping into that vent after Duo. What the hell had that been about?
The words burn his tongue, but Duo says nothing. Really, what would be gained by discussing it now? Heero and Yokaze are minutes away from heading out on their assignments... potentially dangerous assignments... made even more dangerous by the fact that Heero hasn't done this sort of thing since 197... And as he, himself, had demonstrated last night by nearly biting the big one... this could all end badly. Very badly.
But a confrontation would only distract Heero. Duo's hands fist. He knows he can't say anything right now. Later, however, is another story. If there is a later...
"What is it?"
Duo forces himself to relax enough to turn and face his old friend. He ignores the fact that Heero hasn't finished dressing and is currently shirtless, turning said shirt right-side-out. He goes about the task blindly, his gaze fixed on Duo. Duo makes himself shrug and struggle for words to hide behind. "I've been wishing I could tell Bisho what's gonna go down." He pauses and swivels back around as Heero raises his arms to slide the shirt on. "And I wish I knew how Jas was doing..."
He starts violently when a warm hand settles on his shoulder.
Heero calmly reminds him, "You'll be monitoring the evacuation procedure at the spaceport. Everything will be fine."
Duo is struck speechless at the gesture. In spite of himself, he feels... comforted. Of course, Heero's reply is all the more effective due to its novelty. A long moment passes and still Heero's hand remains right where it is. And then his thumb brushes against the skin at the nape of Duo's neck.
"I miss him, too."
Caught up in the shock of the light massage, Duo almost misses Heero's softly spoken words. He tries not to enjoy the touch too much. Tries to add this moment to the list of things to be... discussed at a later date. But damn, how is Duo supposed to stay angry with him when he uses that tone of voice?
Suddenly exhausted, Duo sighs.
Almost immediately, Heero's other hand slides into place on the other side of his neck. Duo's eyes widen as Heero uses his thumbs and heels of his hands to work at the tension in Duo's neck and shoulders.
In a voice Duo has never heard from him before, Heero repeats huskily, "Everything will be fine."
"Hm," he hums and almost yells, What the hell is going on with you? Almost. A mocking, defiant portion of Duo's mind jeers, You'll never ask; you're scared shitless of the answer!
Instead of leaning into the competent hands, Duo straightens, shrugging them off. "Get going," Duo tells him, rather proud of his flat tone. "Yokaze's waiting in the other room."
He pecks at the keyboard, testing the connections he'd hacked earlier and listening for Heero's retreating footsteps. There is, however, no motion behind him. Heero has not budged an inch. Resting his elbow on the desk, Duo lowers his forehead to his upturned palm, exasperated. If Heero doesn't leave soon, Duo's going to forget about his resolve to not light into him before the mission.
"Heero..." God, he hadn't meant for that to come out sounding so tired, so... aching. "You have a mission to get on with, remember?"
He senses the subtle change in Heero's posture. Stiffening at the rebuke. Just leave. Go on. Get on with it. Go, dammit!
Duo drops his hand and sits up straight once more. "Well, some of us have actual work to do, so—"
The words "piss off" are right there, on the tip of this tongue, waiting to be said. But Duo doesn't have the opportunity to do so. A strong hand closes over his bicep and twirls the office chair around. Duo has the briefest moment to register the look on Heero's face as he looms over him. And that look in itself would have shut him up. But, in the end, it's the feel of Heero's mouth pressing against his that prevents further conversation.
The kiss is sudden and sure and brief, but branding. And when Heero pulls away, allowing no more than an inch of space between their mouths, Duo can still feel the heat from those lips. He blinks into a stare that can only be described as intense and possibly focused... VERY focused.
"For luck," Heero growls.
The words jar Duo from his stupor. His brow furrows as his fury rises. How dare—?
Heero's lips silence the thought. The touch this time is light and tender and completely devastating. A caress.
Heero's expression softens. He whispers against Duo's mouth. "For us."
Us? Duo gives himself a sharp mental shake. Whatthehell!? He opens his mouth to say just that, but again he is cut off. This time by the slam of the door.
"Shit!"
Hands fisted against his thighs, Duo turns back to his computer. And the only thing that stops him from flinging it against the nearest wall is that hundreds of lives are depending on it. And him.
He forces himself to take a deep breath. He closes his eyes for the count of five.
"You bastard."
But even as he curses him, he touches the tip of his tongue to his lips, harvesting the ghost of the flavor Heero had left in his wake.
.
At ten-oh-eight a.m. Wufei's words are interrupted by a slight vibration beneath his feet followed promptly by a system failure alert.
"All citizens are asked to proceed to the spaceport for immediate evacuation. This is not a drill. All citizens—"
The looks on the faces of those around him are priceless. They stare at each other in blatant shock for a heartbeat before the content of the alert message launches them toward the door. Wufei twists away from the guiding hands.
"But, sir—!"
Holding up a hand, Wufei states very calmly and firmly, "I must locate Mr. Winner." He removes a phone from his jacket pocket and flips it open. "We will be right behind you."
The man hesitates for a moment, but the resolve on Wufei's face reassures him and he follows after his associates. Like a good little peon. Wufei smirks at the thought.
He turns on his heel and continues down the hall to the men's restrooms. He pauses just long enough to tap out a short, specific series of knocks on the door. As he does so, he is already shrugging out of his constricting jacket.
Wufei strides into the room and catches the duffle bag Heero tosses him. Wordlessly, he strips out of his suit and pulls on the clothes more conducive to what the three of them are about to do. As Wufei straps on his gun holster, he notes Quatre is just finishing checking over his own arms. Their timing is as perfect as they had anticipated.
Heero stuffs the duffle bag and Wufei's discarded clothes into the trash receptacle. Quatre moves toward the door and listens intently for motion on the other side. Wufei makes a few final adjustments to his clothing before pulling his hair back into a tight ponytail.
With a short nod, Wufei indicates he is ready to proceed.
Gun in hand, Quatre takes point and leads them out into the empty halls... and deeper into the building.
.
~End of Chapter 24~