The Stylist
Summary: In this chapter, troubling day 5 of the bet draws near its close with a Midnight Special and day 6 begins a little brighter with wild rides, vampiric transfusions, and intrigue.
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.
Warnings: AU, male/male pairings, language
Chapter Nine
Day 5— Planning session
Happily, it drove like new- just as if it had been pulled together in a scrapyard from the start, which it had. The heater offered up some warmth the minute they arrived back at the Long's building.
"Aren't you going to help me out?" Dorothy cried out as Duo walked away.
"Forgot you were there," he said. With a hard grip, he yanked her out and to her feet.
"Ouch! You're hurting me! Don't be so rough!" she said, sniffling. "You aren't a very nice man."
"You stabbed my friend with a sword. Maybe you killed him! I could have left you outside to freeze to death." He punctuated the last word with a sharp push, shoving her into the elevator. "You'd better hope he lives. His boyfriend won't be as charitable as I've been."
"Boyfriend-?" But one look at Duo's grim expression and she shut up for the rest of the trip to Wufei's office.
Sally and Hilde met them in the lobby near the elevator entrance, both wearing worried expressions.
"Wufei brought Heero and Zechs back here," Sally began, "How's Quatre?"
Simultaneously, Hilde asked, "Yeah, how's Mr. Winner? The others are in his office and look beat up! I'm avoiding Zechs big time. You know, I took his recordings? I'm person non grata."
Duo could hear Wufei's detached voice correcting 'persona non grata' from beyond his office door. They paused just outside the door. The mighty carved dragon seemed to glare dangerously.
"I don't know," Duo admitted. He pointed at Quatre's assistant standing, looking as if she'd been in a bad accident and shaking at his side. "She stabbed Quat with a sword. There was a lot of blood, but he was awake when Trowa and Rashid took off to the emergency center."
"I didn't MEAN to hurt him!" Dorothy wailed.
They could hear a scuffle and Wufei's office door banged all the way open. Hilde skittered off into hiding just as Heero appeared. Zechs pushed in right behind him. Wufei slipped around them both.
Hoping, probably, to appeal to everyone's better instincts, Dorothy tried again. Blood-splattered and using an ear-splitting shrill voice didn't help her case any and made her a target for blame. "I didn't MEAN to hurt him! It was an accident! Won't anybody listen to me?!"
Heero lunged forward and proceeded to send a fist in her direction. Zechs gallantly veered around and blocked the shot with his body. The clip nearly dislocated the taller man's shoulder and propelled his elbow backwards into the girl's jaw, knocking her out with one punch.
Dorothy silenced at last.
"That is a sufficient lack of discipline for now!" Wufei snapped. He caught her before she fell to the floor and wrestled her out of the way. "Help me, you maniac," he commanded Heero.
Wufei untied her hands (If I get my hands on the man who used his designer scarf as a rope…) and Heero draped her over the antique Victorian fainting couch, stretched out on her back. Sally collected the woman's purse and coat and Duo's nice scarf (none the worse for wear), and carried them away.
Heero excused his actions with a glowering look directed at Merquise and a shrug. "I needed to hit something."
"Something helpless?" Zechs murmured, reminding everyone that he was there and why he was sporting a puffy, blackening eye from his earlier encounter with Yuy outside Winner's building. He glared in Heero's direction as he rubbed at his tender shoulder.
"Tro' will call when he knows something," Duo said, falling into a chair. He turned his hard stare onto Zechs. "I thought you broke something." Getting no response out of the man, he turned to Heero.
"You wrecked my car!" he said at the same time and in the same accusatory tone as Merquise.
The supercharged air could power the entire building. Wufei probably felt it, having managed to meditate it away on most trying days. "It's getting on meal time. I suggest we take a break while I prepare dinner. Heero, would you care to assist? Don't answer. Just come along."
This would take out one of the combatants and minimize the bad feelings emanating from Duo and Zechs over their damaged cars—all in one move.
Sally turned to Zechs, took the melted icepack he'd been holding over his eye, and said, "I'll bring you some fresh ice, and one for your shoulder."
"Thank you."
Heero looked chagrined as he passed Duo, cuffing him very gently on the shoulder, his reddened fist lingering and his eyes bright with what Duo understood could possibly be love, but more likely was only infatuation: pupils wide and black, enlarged as much as to say "I like what I see and I want to see more."
The power of that look, whatever was behind it, struck him like a cross between a shower of gold dust and a smack with a two-by-four, leaving Duo's nerve endings tingling.
"I'm sorry," Heero said. "I'll pay for repairs if insurance doesn't cover it." His voice sounded rough, all low and close and gravely.
"Oh," Duo said softly, feeling floored for a dizzying instant.
When Heero was no longer in the office, Zechs shook out his platinum mane. "In my defense, Winner called me, not the other way around. He challenged me to a sword fight! I had no idea what to expect, but it certainly was not that! And then to be stricken by memories of a frightful past, fighting pointlessly…I don't know what to make of them."
"He told you why he called you, didn't he?" Duo asked.
"Some fool point of honor over that Barton man-"
His unfortunate remark was cut off when Heero appeared of the blue, lunging at him, fist leading the charge. Wufei couldn't stop Heero. He knocked the legs out from under Zechs, but that left the man open to more of Yuy's pummeling when he fell on top. Duo landed on top of Heero and grappled for an arm, any arm, to stop him. Barely controlling Heero for a second, however, meant that Zechs could get a punch in.
Suddenly, Sally appeared, entering the room with a hypodermic needle and jabbing it into Zechs' arm, injecting him with a quick-acting tranquiller.
"That should subdue him." She stared down Heero a second, asking, "I have one for you. Super-human dosage. Do I need to use it or will you behave and help me get this man upstairs?"
"I can," Heero said. He carried the bigger man all by himself. He even behaved.
It was agreed that Sally would take Hilde her dinner in her office and let the boys settle their differences upstairs in Wufei's living quarters—quietly, like gentlemen. As she reminded them, she was only a call away from knocking them all out, if it came to that.
"And Heero, come back for Dorothy. She'll probably be staying upstairs with us tonight." Might as well put that super human strength and overload of male hormones to work!
The rest of the evening was comparatively quiet after that. Zechs woke up to find himself in a chair at Wufei's table being served delightfully aromatic food. His shoulder was bound and nothing was throbbing with pain. Sally smiled at him and asked if the pain medication was helping. He nodded, still fuzzy headed. He put it down to extreme exhaustion and shock, questioning all his memories equally and never asking for the details to fill in the time he'd lost.
They ate in silence for the most part. Dinner was an uneasy peace with everyone eyeing one another warily.
"I made a miscalculation—which with a clearer mind I consider to be a foolish mistake," Zechs said. "I tried to explain to Winner, but he was in some sort of fugue state and not listening to me."
"I'm listening," Wufei said. "Tell me why you acted the way you did towards Mr. Barton."
"I thought I'd shake up the two men. They'd be fed up with the modeling job and quit, and you would lose the bet. That was it."
"Why him!" Duo cut in. "Why pick on him and not me?"
Zechs didn't look him in the eye when he answered. "No reason that I know of." Possibly a subconscious one.
Duo looked clearly unsatisfied with his answer, but Wufei wanted to move the conversation forward.
"So you hoped to sabotage the bet to give your boss an advantage," Wufei summarized. "Dishonorable. Lying, faking an injury, filing lawsuits! You tarnish your family name."
"Perhaps, in light of everything that's happened, your assessment is not entirely incorrect. It didn't seem so wrong at the time. But while Winner engaged me in a sword fight for Barton's honor, something frightening happened. Memories…" Zechs said in parting, "excuse me, but I must go now. I need some time to come to terms with these… past memories that, I swear to God, are just surfacing. I am deeply sorry for any problems I may have caused you or Mr. Barton. I will attempt to make amends, if it is possible. My car—" He waved a hand as if to wave away the problem. "I need to think and now is not the time for unclouded thought."
Wufei agreed to host another, a calmer meeting in his office, the time to be decided, but either the next day or the one after that, a propitious day—the end of the bet. Or not, if no one wanted it.
As soon as Merquise departed, having received a ride from a friend with a heavy-duty SUV, Dorothy opened her eyes.
"Is it safe to get up?" she asked.
"We haven't heard from Trowa yet," Duo answered, "so I'd stay outta my way."
Sally wanted no more of male nonsense. Dorothy was no friend of hers, but she didn't think the young lady was the type to attack her boss intent on murdering him. The woman looked miserable in her bloody clothes and was probably starving, having slept through dinner.
"Duo, why don't you take Heero and Hilde up to your rooms and wait for Trowa's call. Dorothy can stay here on the couch for the night."
"Fine," he approved curtly.
"Thank you. And please let us know any news?" Sally asked.
"Will do, Sal. Let's hope it's good news and soon," Duo directed Dorothy's way, adding, "for your sake. Or I'll be on your case like stink on a skunk."
(o)
Trowa was working his way through waist-high snow. It kept thickening like glue until he could hardly move.
"Tro-wa! Oh! He-lp…me…" It was Quatre's voice sounding frightened, panicking, and growing weaker.
"I'm coming! Hold on! I-I love you!" he called out. He couldn't see Quatre anymore. Just the fringe of his magenta scarf, and then it too slipped beneath the snow. "Qua-tre!"
"Tro-!"
"-wa Barton?"
His head felt fuzzy. Someone shook his shoulder. "Mr. Barton?"
He forced his eyes open and his body shot out of the plastic hospital chair. "Huh?!"
The doctor stepped back. "I'm sorry to awaken you, but I know you've been waiting to hear about Mr. Winner."
"Quatre! Is he-? Is he okay?"
"He's resting comfortably, sleeping. The surgery went smoothly. No vital organs were cut, mercifully. The muscles will take time to heal. He'll have to take it easy for a while."
"Can I see him now?"
"You should go home and get yourself some rest," the doctor was suggesting, eyes skimming over Trowa, "and clean up."
Trowa looked down and saw the blood stains on his shirt. His very expensive designer shirt soaked in Quatre's life blood.
"You'll be able to visit him tomorrow afternoon. I'll have instructions printed for you as to his care at that time."
"I need to see him." There must have been a great deal of desperation as well as determination in his voice, because the doctor backed down immediately.
"Well, since you are listed as his next of kin, along with his sister and Mr. Rashid…You wouldn't know how to get in touch with Iria Winner, would you?"
"I'll see what I can do." Trowa was baffled at how his name was on Quatre's next of kin list when they had just met. Unless… unless everything Quatre and Heero had been telling him was the truth and that he and Quatre had been close in the past. Very close. Family close.
Quatre was asleep. Trowa sat and watched the monitors, listened to the beeps, took in the pale-as-death visage of his true love. Assured that there was nothing else for him to do that day, he allowed himself to be escorted out to the waiting room, passing Rashid with a salute. One mercenary to another.
Outside the hospital lobby, Trowa stood wondering whether to walk—not wise since he was not dressed for the near zero temperature. Not even a coat! I could call someone. God, I can't think. I've totally lost all focus. "Please get better soon," he whispered aloud to his absent lover.
Rashid took his turn for a minute, satisfying himself of the care his employer, and family friend, was receiving before leaving him in the care of the hospital staff. He saw Trowa standing alone hugging himself and shivering at the covered entry.
"Mr. Barton? If you are not waiting for a ride, would you accept a ride with me?"
The look in the young man's eye was unwelcoming and desolate at first, but softened as Rashid drew closer. Trowa nodded and accepted with a simple, "Yeah. Thanks."
Together, the downcast men left the hospital building and strode across the partially cleared parking lot; salted walkways with heaping piles of plowed snow at the edges.
"Mr. Winner senior, a good man, hired the Maguanacs for his security." Rashid frowned and then moved past some bad memories. "We now report to Master Quatre when we are needed. We are attempting to contact his sister, Iria. She's a doctor working of late in a very remote village."
Trowa said, "That's good. She should know that Quatre will be fine."
Rashid accepted that with his own stoic silence, and the two men approached the dark menacing form of the hulking HUMVEE. They climbed in and buckled up.
"Good view," Trowa said, admiring the sightlines from his seat height.
"True. Good over sand and on ice," Rashid said proudly. "A home on wheels."
"Better than the caravan I live in when I'm working late at the circus—was working," Trowa said, correcting himself.
Am I ever going back? He discovered that the idea of moving on to a new career wasn't as daunting as it had been. There also wasn't a nostalgic desire to go back to the circus life, although he didn't want to leave his sister in the lurch either. He didn't want to depend on Quatre, even though the man suggested it was a possibility he should consider. No. I want to contribute to our relationship. Relationship. Now there was a word packed with many levels of meaning.
"Extra shielding. Very tough. Armed like Army!" Rashid's teeth showed in a rictus grin as if war was imminent and he was eager to go into battle.
"Formidable," Trowa said.
"Yes. Fine word. Formidable," Rashid agreed.
On the way, Trowa remembered to send a wordy message to Duo: "Q fine. Stitched up good. No big probs. See him tomorrow afternoon. Getting ride back."
(o)
Duo, Hilde, and Heero gave Trowa some space when he came through the door. He acknowledged them with a sigh, dropping his blood-spotted boots at the door, and then pointed up the hall toward his room.
"Shower first, talk second," he said.
When he emerged in his sweat pants and shirt, it was Hilde who led him to the kitchen and pushed him onto a bar chair.
"I got just the picker-upper for you," Hilde told him, while heating up a skillet.
"Not hungry."
"I know. Here, have some orange juice." She plopped a glass in front of him, which he drained in two glups.
Duo and Heero migrated closer, taking up seats on either side of their friend while watching Hilde prepare… something.
She kept up a running dialog as well as spreading butter on bread and toasting it grill-style in a pan. "See, there was the last train stop at the border of L2 where all the military folk would collect before getting their assignments and heading out in different directions."
She placed the toasted bread on a plate and broke an egg into the pan with more butter. The egg sizzled. With a generous hand she slathered the toast with peanut butter.
"There was a diner. The awesomest hotspot to meet up. I mean, all the high-flier pilots were there." She winked at Duo and they both chuckled.
"The diner at the end of the line," Duo said with a laugh. "Wasn't it called Joe's or something, but we all called it—?"
"—the Last Diner! Heh, heh... get it? Like the Last Dinner?" Hilde laughed. "We all thought we were oh so cool and clever back then."
She sliced banana over one half, and slid the hot egg over the other. "This is the tricky part," she said to Trowa.
In one quick motion she slammed the two halves together without losing any of the innards. She sliced it neatly into two equal pieces and pushed it toward Trowa. "Give it a try."
His hand moved cautiously and then his hunger took over and he took a bite. And then another. "It's pretty good. Real good."
"You bet it is! Make you one too?" she asked Heero, who'd been studying her every move and was now gazing at her hopefully.
"Okay."
Duo shook his head. He still felt full from dinner and wondered if Heero had eaten anything at all. "No thanks." The smile stretched across his face as he remembered something. "The Midnight Special!"
"Yeah!" Hilde cheered. "That's what this was called."
Together they chanted the advertising line: "Puts hair on your chest, and a smile on your face!"
While Hilde made Heero a sandwich, Duo took a moment to send Wufei a message, letting him know that all was well for the night, but if he'd like to come on over and shoot the breeze a bit, he'd be welcome.
Hilde asked while cleaning up, "So, remember what I was telling you? About AZEROCOM? I was wondering if you think Howard's in on it."
"What?" Heero asked.
"Oh yeah, you missed that enlightening moment, running out on us as you did," Duo told Heero.
"Little distracted. I'd forgotten all about it. Bet Chang did too," Trowa said.
"Forgotten like the age discrepancy on your driver's license," Heero mentioned to Duo.
"Aw, 'Ro… That's pure misdirection on your part, and you know it," Duo said with a touch of annoyance coming through. Just a touch. "Let. It. Rest."
"Can we get back to the ZERO issue?" Hilde asked. She let more than a little frustration enter her voice.
"What about it?" Heero asked. "You believe that ZERO has something more to do with AZEROCOM besides the name insertion?"
Hilde smirked and cocked her eyebrow. "Well, duh. Yeah. It's part of the communication system. I know it."
"Hold that thought!" Duo hopped off his chair at the bar and met Wufei at the door. He urged everyone into the living room, and fired up the faux fireplace. "We were talking about AZEROCOM," he said, filling in Wufei on their conversation.
Hilde gave Heero her best smug expression. "You all were looking for something that could cause mass brain control—it sure is a prime candidate, don'tcha think?"
"Hn." Heero shrugged indecisively. "Duo and Trowa didn't have smartphones until a few days ago."
Trowa turned to Wufei. "Remember when you asked if Duo and I didn't have smartphones on purpose?"
"Yes. It could have been a way to hide your identities."
"But we weren't hiding," Trowa said. "It got me to thinking, though, that maybe someone else was running interference for us. Duo, I'll bet my organic angora wool socks that Howard knows the truth. You told me he discouraged you from working on the newest computer-controlled cars. He kept you away from technology, or tried to."
"Yeah… right… now you've got me to thinking," Duo chuckled. "Okay, he did, in a lot of ways," Duo said excitedly as he caught on. "I used the shop landline to make calls, because the building blocked all kinds of signals, cellphone coverage was nil in there. I, ah, lived in a room above the shop until I moved in with Trowa. At that apartment we gotta landline, too, 'cause it was cheap."
"We had that old computer someone had tossed out and we fixed," Trowa said.
"Heh," Duo mused a bit. "I guess he couldn't stop us from computer games. I logged in as 'Solo', who he knew nothing about. Games… my downfall." Duo grinned. "And as long as you were a circus performer," Duo added, "there wasn't much opportunity for you to get very connected there."
"But I played games, too. I used Catherine's account under the name 'Triton.' Howard wouldn't have known that was my birth name. Still, neither of us used any social media."
Hilde looked satisfied that they were taking her idea seriously. "So, you had contact with ZERO, minimal as it was, and explains why you were affected even though you didn't carry cellphones."
"Triton?" Wufei asked.
"Who was Solo?" Heero asked, a frown darkening his brows.
"It's just a name on a paper," Trowa said with a little smile, not offering any more information.
"Solo was a boy I looked up to who led a gang when I was really young," Duo answered Heero's query with a sigh to end the sentence. "He was called Solo, so I took the name Duo—it sounded cooler than 'kid' and I was really young!"
Heero reached for Duo's hand to comfort him. "I named myself, too."
"Geesh! You guys! This is important!" Hilde cried out. "Why doesn't anyone seem to remember the past ten years? I mean, it's got to be a mind control thing on a big scale. AZEROCOM, I tell you!"
"It is worth investigating further. Tomorrow we talk to Howard, who may have suspected something worth covering up," Wufei decided, even if it didn't work out that way exactly. "After work and after we see Winner."
No arguments? A win.
"All right then," Wufei got up and went to the door. "I should look in on my…guest, and make sure Miss Catalonia is comfortable. Try and make it to the lobby at ten o'clock. I'll have your outfits ready and we can get some work done. It's our last day to complete the contest, for the most part."
"We'll be there, boss!" Hilde agreed.
"10:00 AM. Got it." Trowa saluted.
"Sure thing," Duo said and turned on the television. "Here's a movie worth falling asleep to."
A huge sigh emanated from the floor where Trowa was settled in.
"What?" Duo asked. As in: what else or what now?
"I got a ride back here from Rashid," Trowa began.
"With 'Sheed? He is so cool. I mean, badass scary as hell, but dedicated," Duo said. "I remember him at his hideout with Quat before we go attacked. So what about him?"
"We got to… not talking exactly... but I guess I decided… I'm not going back to work at the circus. I justdecided. I haven't injured myself bad yet, but the closer I get to thirty the more likely it is I'll do something serious enough to myself that I'll have to stop the acrobatics and be limited to ticket-taker or cage cleaner."
"That was a long speech," Duo pointed out. "So, I doubt you're going to park cars for Quat either."
"No. I want to be in a… relationship… with him, while he's still interested," he said, trying out that word and liking it better.
"Whoa, that's a big time life change going on. You really thinking of that?" Duo asked him. "Has he mentioned anything?"
"He brought up the subject. I was too insecure to accept any propositions at the time. Job-wise or of living together. I'm thinking differently now. I need him, Duo."
"I think he's breaking up with you, Duo," Hilde said, chuckling at Duo's look of righteous indignation. "I mean, you two won't be sharing an apartment much longer, right?"
"Hey, he deserves a life," Duo countered in support of his friend.
But Duo was not pleased with the idea of being deserted by his closest friend and roommate in the very near future. He understood why Trowa wanted what he wanted. He was deep-down happy for his friend, but that made him face his own tenuous situation. He really didn't like planning futures.
I'm more of a dude who'll take the crap life dishes out and make the best of it. I'll just do that again. And I'll still see him once in a while, surely, at least until his social sphere and mine no longer intersect. That was grim.
He cleared his suddenly tightening throat, and then made the mistake of catching Heero's piercing glare. Searching those depths for answers was just too terrifying now.
Not tonight. Heero has his deluxe job and friends and home. Besides, I don't see why Heero would want much more to do with me after using me for his sexual orientation breakthrough. And wasn't that just what had happened? Heero was rich and respected, while I'm merely a flash-in-the-pan trending meme and just an average master mechanic, gear head… soon to be homeless. Another grim thought. Damn.
"I'm glad you found Quat, I really am," Duo said, pulling together his better self. "And he needs you to keep his head screwed on just as much as you need him."
"Thanks," Trowa said.
"You realize he had like a ZERO manic reaction to Zechs Merquise's attack on you?" Hilde asked. "I mean, think about it! And you, Heero, you think you might have over reacted today?"
"Hn," Heero snorted.
"I'm sending him good vibe thoughts, so be quiet." Trowa shot Hilde a fractional smile to soften the order.
Heero, who'd been quiet up to this point, now spoke up and asked Trowa to "send him good karma thoughts from me, too." Karma was the word his good friend used. Quatre really believed a person's actions could really generate a force of good or evil. Heero wasn't sure of the "force" bit, but certainly agreed a person's actions could result in good or evil outcomes. And Hilde's words concerned him deeply.
How many rash decisions had any of them made that were caused by ZERO interference? It was frightening. ZERO must be stopped. And he must hide that thought. ZERO must not know.
Not wanting to leave Trowa on his lonely own that night, Heero and Duo generously gave up their private room, gathered together blankets and pillows, and with Hilde, joined Trowa for another group-hug, puppy-pile, sleep-a-thon with the fire burning and movie scrolling past, until they all dropped off into uneasy rest. Actually, Duo was afraid that Heero was becoming a little distant, possibly beginning to regret their previous intimate contact and didn't want to face that disappointment. He'd run away if there was any place to go.
Escape the whole problem. So easy… Run and hide.
(o) The next morning, day 6 of the bet
Dorothy had spent the night on Wufei's couch. Over toast and tea, she and Quatre concluded a teary phone conversation in which both agreed to forgive and forget. It helped that she was getting a raise and a bonus for quick, though foolish, action. Next time she would heed her boss's warnings and orders and leave the building when told there would be a major snow storm. She wouldn't stick around the office, where she had slept on a couch and eaten leftovers in the cafeteria's storage.
After more toast and bagels with tea and coffee with Sally and Hilde, Dorothy accepted a short make-over session with new clothes and then a ride from Duo to her car, which Heero kindly dug out from under a snow bank. When it wouldn't start, Duo fixed it and sent her on her merry way. He was a lot nicer, she decided, when he wasn't grieving for a hurt friend.
After multiple calls to check on Quatre's condition, they all agreed to visit him after lunch. "And bring me my cellphone and PDA! And clean clothes and my shaving tools-!"
That left the morning for work. There was one more day to secure the popularity of Duo and Trowa, because the next day the results would be evaluated and bet would conclude.
Tsubarov Studios and Duke Dermail's Consortium clothes had arrived while Quatre was being stabbed by a wayward sword, and while his friends were desperately trying to stop him from whatever harm he seemed intent on doing.
Playing dress-up again, posing, and putting the sex and allure into the spring and summer collections, helped to take their minds off Quatre's condition. They sorted through the fashionable collections, dressed up, changed looks, and shot new staged pictures and electrifying videos.
What they demonstrated was that Khushrenada's fashions were not the only attractions out there, and that Duo and Trowa could make anything look hot, desirable, and on trend.
With time to kill, Heero upgraded all their cellphones and devices with the newest security protection to prevent, among everything else evil, cyber-stalkers. Wufei insisted that Sally, and Hilde hand theirs over for protection, too.
When it was time for the hospital visiting hours, they were all quick to change into warm clothes, gather up Quatre's necessities, including a coat in case they could bring him home sometime, and sort themselves into cars.
(o)
Duo took off with Hilde, who was getting a chance to drive his junker. She had convinced him the best reward for all her hard work was to let her drive his car. "While the rest of you pretty boys basically played, I did everything!"
Questioning ensued.
"Have you ever driven on ice?" Heero asked.
"No, but—"
"Have you ever driven a stick shift?" Trowa asked.
"No, but how hard can it be?"
"I'm going with Chang," Trowa said.
Heero looked unsure, so Duo just waved him on. "This may take us awhile," Duo told him.
"I want you to tell me everything you know about that handsome Rashid fellow," Hilde whispered in Duo's ear, revealing her true purpose in getting Duo alone, before skipping off to his car, key in hand.
(o)
Wufei ended up behind the wheel of Sally's Subaru with Heero and Trowa in back. Sally looked regal in her starched white lab coat and requisite dangling stethoscope.
"Why the costume, Doctor?" Heero asked.
She turned around in the car seat. Her expression was as earnest and intense as Heero's. "I have this idea. I'm not sure it will work, but I think, if you agree, that we must try it—to help your friend heal quickly."
Trowa clearly wanted to be abreast of anything having to do with Quatre's welfare, and he spoke up, "What is it you have in mind?"
"She wants to give Winner my blood," Heero said, making an educated guess. The thought had occurred to him too. "Correct?"
"Yes, a blood transfusion. If you still have that rapid-healing aptitude."
"I'm not certain our blood types match, but I'm a universal. I also don't know that I still heal faster than normal, since I don't get hurt, but I do have my superior strength."
"I've heard," Sally said, smiling. "We'll give it a crack then."
"Winner will resist," Wufei said. "Unless Trowa can convince him."
"I can distract him," Trowa smiled. "No promises convincing him."
"Just try." Sally waited for Wufei to stop the car at the entrance. Heero was already out of the back seat and started going up the steps. Trowa slid out and waited to go inside the hospital.
"Go ahead and park," she told Wufei. "I'll need a few minutes to set everything up. Come on, Trowa. I'll need you, too."
Quatre was so happy to see Trowa, and the bag of goodies he was carrying, that he totally ignored what Sally and Heero were doing. It wasn't until she came at his arm with a long needle that he noticed Heero lying on a bed next to his already draining blood through tubes into a collection bag and from there to a fancy filtering machine.
"What are you doing, Miss Po?!"
"She aspires to be a vampire. Just kiss me and pretend she isn't here," Trowa told him.
Quatre accepted the kiss, but made it a short one until Trowa explained what was going on. "You could have just told me that from the start. I'd have gone along with you."
"This was more fun… for me," Trowa whispered, and then treated himself to the lips he'd been missing.
Duo and Hilde arrived with Wufei. Together they carried in more chairs and joined the waiting group. Duo's eyes looked a little wild, his carefully groomed bangs were mussy and braid was frazzled. Hilde was quiet. Both seemed to agree to keep whatever happened on the drive over between themselves.
"And no one look at the new bent fender," Hilde commanded. "Now both sides match."
The blood transfer took a couple hours. After the transfusion was complete, both Heero and Quatre fell asleep for about an hour.
Trowa and Duo played cards. Sally and Wufei read trade magazines. Hilde watched Quatre and Heero breathe. Everyone seemed to be avoiding their smartphones, now that they knew about ZERO.
When Quatre woke up, he blinked, found himself wonderfully clear-headed and pain-free, and smiled.
Duo spotted his movement out of the corner of his eye. "Your boyfriend is mental, you know that?" Duo said to Trowa, knowing Quatre could hear him.
"I am here and awake and I'm not mental!" Quatre declared, and then made a funny face, crossing his eyes and sticking out his tongue at them.
Heero sat up, the sound of voices waking him. "How are you?" he asked immediately.
"I'm… amazing! I feel amazing!" Quatre exclaimed.
Trowa bounded to his side and did his own examination of the wound site. "Amazing."
"Good. Your color is back to normal, too." Wufei put away the magazines and remained by Sally, off to the side. He looked over at Duo. "So, I'll bite. Why did you say that about Winner?" Wufei asked, mostly prompting Duo to say something funny and lighten the mood, and Duo was happy to comply.
"Yes, why did you?" Quatre echoed drolly.
"You may not have guessed this about me, but I've never ever felt at home in a really posh office," Duo began with a "don't feel insulted" wink to Heero and a shrug aimed at Wufei. "But Quat's hangout was like whacked out mondo bizarro."
"Piffle-me-diffle," Quatre said dismissively.
"Let me paint you a picture of his office," Duo said, relishing the moment with his friends, relieved that Quatre felt better and would recover quickly. "This delux solid gold elevator—"
"It's only gold-plated, Duo," Quatre said. He wasn't serious.
"—So you say…Anyway, it delivered us to this colossal office space- like a hanger for a hundred fighter jets! 'K? This space was appointedwith a polished floor of- get this- glowy, little green alien tile—"
"Sanc forest green." Quarter smiled. "Some embedded LED lighting. And walls of muted sandstone."
"Right, where there was a wall. I mean, it was mostly video screens, glass, and - to be generous- art. There's a dark wood bar on the left and a gigantic matching grand piano to the right—"
"Playing piano relaxes me. The bar relaxes other people."
"For all that… lemme see, how to put this…like a brochure… here goes: the dominating feature is the panoramic view. Midtown Sanc glimmering her lights beyond soaring panes of thick glass. I could see a narrow balcony—"
"So one can enjoy a breath of fresh air—" Quatre put in, hardly containing his mirth.
"Or a fall to their death. Point of view." Duo looked around. "Which gets me to my point. The art. Did you see the art?"
"I was distracted by my boyfriend bleeding out on the alien tile," Trowa remarked wryly.
"Still, ya coulda seen the art… All those dark, horrific faces and stuff? Nightmares!"
"Now that you mention it, I do remember Catalonia," Trowa put in.
"Nihilists," Quatre said by way of an explanation. "One is a famous self-portrait by Pablo Saborío. They are on loan. A rotating display I share with the palace and the Sanc Metropolitan Museum of Art. I'm not that troubled."
"Okay, but what about the knife-edge, cut-glass tables? Huh, huh Yeah! And the exotic, scary-looking man-eating plants! Lurking. Overall, it has a very disturbing feeling."
"You are so sensitive, Duo," Quatre said, laughing. "Now, what's the plan? I'm ready to go back with you and I am sure you all have been very busy without me."
"Will they let you leave, just like that?" Hilde asked.
"I paid for a wing of this place. They'll let me do what I want." Winner looked pretty smug about it, too.
They made him promise not to overexert before letting him in on their proposed meeting with Howard back at the Long's building. It was just going through the motions, and that was okay because they all knew it. Quat would do what Quat wanted to do. Quatre vowed to be good and that was what they wanted to hear. They got rid of the blood transfusion equipment while he dressed and prepared to go because that was what he wanted to do. Fair is fair.
"If we can convince Howard to come over," Duo said. "And by convince I mean force."
"He'll come. Rashid will… persuade… him to come. I'll give him a call now." Quatre looked at Duo. "Where does Howard live?"
"Above his auto repair garage."
(o)
Howard accepted a ride from the Maguanacs (always wanted to ride in one of these souped-up HUMVEEs) and agreed to meet with everyone at once at Long's for what was promised to be an Intriguing Discussion.
Wufei met them at the door to Long's. "Rashid, you may join the others in my office…door's open."
"Thank you."
The stylist drew Howard deeper into the lobby, steering him out of sight of his office door. "Indulge me just a moment. Before you are besieged by the others, there's something I've always wanted to do," he told the older man.
"And howdy do to you too, Chang Wufei. What's that?" Howard pocketed his ubiquitous and unnecessary sunglasses and ran his fingers through his scant, graying hair.
Wufei held up a garment bag and unzipped the front.
Howard licked his lips and let his eyes rove over the well-cut khaki twill jacket in a safari cut. "What have we here?"
"I saved it for you. A little Khushrenada number, Merquise design. The only thing, one of the only things, in the collection that a man would be seen wearing."
"What's the other?" Howard asked while trying on the jacket.
"A black leather number Maxwell approved of." Wufei checked the back and sleeve length. I remembered correctly—your size. How do you like it?"
Wufei showed him to a full-length mirror, always present in the lobby, his office, and practically every room in the building. Howard preened and posed a minute, testing all the pockets and pouches and zippers and snaps, before sanctioning the garment as an addition to his wardrobe.
"The lining zips out, but for now the extra insulation is good," Wufei pointed out.
"I like it, yes. Very practical. You never did like my Hawaiian shirts," Howard noted with good-humored chuckle, "Did you?"
"I didn't understand them, frankly. Awfully garish and impractical. Oh, there's a hat to go with it." Wufei displayed the wide-brimmed field hat with a flourish.
"Yeah, man! That's a hoot, I say! A hoot! But it is GREAT!" Howard followed Wufei toward his open office door. "Lookit me, everybody!"
Howard danced around whooping and hollering for another minute. Once he accepted everyone's compliments, he settled down to pay attention to what was being presented.
Sally whispered her compliments to the stylist, and Wufei beamed with pride.
Hilde had five computer screens running videos and showing everyone all the uploaded promotional material and pictures she had sent out. Rashid remained, ready to return Howard to his garage when the time came, but perfectly satisfied to look over Hilde's shapely shoulders at the pictures.
"It's good to see you again, Howard," Sally said.
"You look lovely Miss Po. More beautiful than ever."
"Thank you," she said with a faint blush, and led him to an empty chair in the crowded office.
Heero was teasing Duo about his age again.
"I told you the truth!" Duo insisted. "I don't know and my records were lost in the Maxwell church fire, so it was made up. If Trowa'd been around when the fake ID got made, the mistake would have been caught, and I'd have the same year as him, probably. That's it. Nothing meaningful."
"So, it could be right and you're the youngest here," Heero smiled.
"If you insist, sure. If I get asked for my birthdate, it's the date I give 'cause it would be stupid not to know my birthdate, right? So are we done with this now?"
Heero laughed. "Okay. I really just liked the idea of being seen with this younger…person. Being the older man."
"You guys are sickos," Hilde moaned.
Rashid chuckled, amused by her theatrics.
"The truth is," Howard interjected, "you are all about the same age. Here, show your ID's."
Wufei 25; Trowa 23; Quatre 25; Heero 24; Duo 21.
"Only Wufei's birthdate and Quatre's are actually based on birth certificates," Howard pointed out. "So it is quite possible that the rest of you could be the same age as them. Records of your birth were artificial machinations— even yours, Triton Bloom."
Trowa hid behind his fall of bangs and said nothing.
"Cooked up by those doctors, is my guess," Sally said, putting everything together.
"Another strike against them!" Hilde declared. "Those old geezers were up to no good," she told Rashid. "Messing with teenagers, turning them into killing machines."
"Life's problems wouldn't be called hurdles if there wasn't a way to get over them." Howard looked around at all the eyes on him. "Just one of those useful affirmations. Now where were we?"
"The five doctors. Can you tell us what you remember about them?" Sally asked.
Howard nodded with an air of complicity. "They meant well, you know. Doctor J, he attempted to make Heero Yuy, already a trained killer, into the perfect soldier. Incredibly strong and fast healing…driven to follow orders. But as we know, Heero had a heart and a conscience, to moderate his determination."
"Professor G had run out of good candidates, when by happenstance, Duo Maxwell illegally broke the security codes and sneaked onto his ship. He took the enthusiastic, partly trained pilot, who'd been a bright street kid, and directed his energy, native stealth talents, and anger to fighting for the cause. From a life of crime to terrorist-soldier wasn't that much of a stretch, but to his delight, Duo worked well with others, offered camaraderie, and was not burdened by angst."
"Doctor S was excited to have a focused, capable, persuadable, and sane Trowa Barton over the original candidate by that name—who, it turns out, the good doctor shot and killed. Our Trowa was a superior replacement for the son of Dekim Barton. He was already a mercenary, a mechanic, and had developed uncanny chameleon capabilities to blend into different roles. Best of all, as a circus performer, Trowa came with the best cover for his mission activities."
"Instructor H learned about Quatre Winner through the Maguanac Corps. He wasn't sold on using the son of such an important man, a boy with a name and connections. But what convinced him to take Quatre on, were his special empathic abilities, engineering, tactical and strategizing skills, as well as already built in bases with the Maguanacs for hiding purposes."
"Master O was reluctant to train Chang Wufei who, he maintained, should have remained a scholar and teacher. Wufei surprised him with his single-minded strength of honor and purpose. His fighting skills were outstanding and, honestly, when the first chosen fighter was killed, Wufei was the only L5 student in training who met all the necessary criteria to move up. He never regretted putting Wufei into that fighter seat and giving him the benefits the doctors could hand out."
Wufei let out a huff of disbelief.
"Benefits? You mean drugs. We were test subjects for all kinds of chemical shit," Duo said.
"None of the fun stuff either," Trowa grumbled.
"Never mind about that," Heero snapped. "AZEROCOM," Heero spit out between clenched teeth. "What do you know about it?"
"Getting there. Patience was never one of your strong points, was it, son?" Howard winked at Heero, daring him to have another outburst. He was denied by the more mature Heero Yuy. "Very well… Now…where was I…? Ah, yes… What you all had in common was a willingness to sacrifice yourselves for the cause, whatever that was."
Howard paused, observing them all with a masked smile or perhaps he was only fondly looking backwards at the past.
"But as the fighting went on and on issues developed. You were heroes to some and criminals to others. It was hard to explain you. The newscasts cut you out. It didn't look good to show a sweet-faced boy being tortured, accused for evil deeds without trial—Duo in chains was the last telecast. Those big, sad eyes pulled at the heart strings."
Duo batted his eyelashes at the man.
Heero said, "I remember that. I went to kill him to keep him from giving up information."
"I never…NEVER broke!" Duo insisted.
"And I didn't kill you, did I?" Heero said with a smirk this time.
"Getting back to my point," Howard said. "Information surrounding you five was definitely subject to heavy censoring after that fiasco. Five young teenage boys had been used to conduct a war. It was wrong, and hard to correct. What's more, once you would become of age, you could be tried for war crimes as adults—but it wasn't fair, was it? Those who had allowed you to be used were at fault and could be charged as well—"
"—Hold on! You saying that they brainwashed everybody to protect five kids and a handful of others? I don't believe a loada crap like that," Duo complained. "Though I kinda prefer being protected rather than pilloried."
Howard shrugged. "You asked, I tell it like it is, son. The doctors put everything, their hopes and dreams, into the five of you. They wanted to protect you, since you'd all managed to survive. Also, I believe that they saw the world wasn't coming together like they had envisioned, so they came up with a scheme to reset it, for a while, anyway. ZERO didn't put ideas into your head, it showed you possibilities, which with a little manipulation could steer you into one direction or the other. That's what they did."
"A little manipulation? Christ!" Trowa said, irritably. Howard's evasive look away made him feel especially uneasy. The man knew more than he was telling, Trowa was sure of it, and the only way to discover the truth was to keep the man talking. "So, Howard, aren't they all dead?" he asked.
"That's right. I seem to recall hearing that rumor. How did they do this if they were all dead?" Quatre asked.
"Who says they are all dead? Or were ever alive, for that matter? It's all undocumented." Howard tapped the side of his head. "It's all up here."
"All right, then. How did they come up with the technology to do this?" Heero asked, wondering. "There are billions of people."
"Only a few thousand, the media," Howard brushed his concerns away. "Exactly how? I don't know. I was not one of them, I was just an engineer that worked with them, and I didn't engineer AZEROCOM."
"We should bring it down! Blow up the design site… take out the towers… find out wherever ZERO resides and destroy it!" Hilde shouted, fist upraised in righteous indignation and passionate excitement.
"Not the worst idea," Rashid said in support of her.
"I agree," Heero said.
"Oh sure. You don't think that will be easy, do you? That they won't fight back? The security around the buildings must be… the best." Howard sat back; sure they would all see reason, the impossibility of such an action, and give up on the crazy idea.
"It would be a suicide mission," Heero concluded.
"Absolutely," Howard agreed.
"A lot of what we did before was," Duo said. "Didn't we all have a death-wish moment?"
"We were willing to sacrifice ourselves and we did…over and over," Quatre said with a sigh that said "Look at me and what I just did to myself!"
"And look where it got us," Trowa said.
"We were idiots." Heero admitted.
"Then and now…" Trowa said.
"I wish it would wear off, this desire to step in front of oncoming trains and such," Duo muttered.
"It is wearing off with the return of our memories. My desire to die over this is not what it used to be," Trowa said. He grinned. "But, I expect it is not gone entirely."
"Yes. Wearing off. Possibly. Let's see what the main players do as the memories return, and I mean Treize Khushrenada and Lady Une in particular. I suspect that ZERO will continue to manage the outcomes for the length of our lives, and not allow the chief actors to rise to power or for the creation of war crime courts. I think it is in all your best interests to let AZEROCOM be, at least for another 50 years or so."
"Not on your life!" Duo shouted.
The others agreed with him whole heartedly.
Howard shook his head. "In that case, son, you'd better come up with a damned good plan."
TBC