Heero calls Quatre after he's finished putting away the dishes from lunch. He relocates from the table to the sofa, placing the laptop on the narrow coffee table and settling back into the sofa cushions. Quatre answers on the third ring, looking simultaneously tired and overjoyed. "Heero," Quatre greets, "hello! How are you?"
"Fine," he replies. He pauses, raising an eyebrow at the blonde. "I heard you were planning my funeral."
Quatre flushes and laughs. "Not quite yet. You didn't check-in though, and well…" Quatre shrugs. "We all know your history for being a bit…reckless." Heero continues staring silently at Quatre, eyebrow still raised. "You could have asked, you didn't have to take the explosives, you know? We're a team, we would've helped."
Heero disregards the comment. "I spoke with Duo and he has a lead on additional detonators. Between those and whatever your team has stored, you should be able to detonate the Gundams without too much trouble."
Quatre sighs heavily. "That isn't the point," he says. "But yes, Duo sent me a message earlier about the potential explosives."
Heero nods and the conversation lapses into not-quite comfortable silence. Heero studies the room behind Quatre. The walls are lined with shelves filled with books and he guesses it's some type of office. Quatre seems to be studying him as well, a small furrow between his eyebrows as he puzzles over something. Heero lets his gaze slide away, distracted by an argument taking place outside the trailer.
"Why did you do it?" Quatre asks finally.
"Would you trust Preventers with Sandrock?" Heero counters. He looks back at Quatre. "You were the one who wanted to get rid of the Gundams originally."
"Yes, but not by blowing up the Presidential Bunker," Quatre responds. He's still frowning. "You can't think that Preventers will overlook what happened. Your relationship with Miss Relena aside, you know Lady Une or Miss Noin will never let it slide."
Heero shrugs and sinks back into the sofa cushions. "I'll lay low for a while and they'll move on to something else."
Quatre snorts indelicately. "When have you ever known that to be our luck?" he asks. He seems to notice the sofa behind him for the first time. "Where are you, anyway?"
"Laying low," he replies, smirking. He sobers after a moment and leans forward so that Quatre can see he's serious. "Zero would never have made it out of that bunker on his own, Quatre. He was too damaged. I think Une would have taken greater offense to me blowing Zero up in one of her storage facilities than in the ESUN President's ruined home."
"We could have arranged transport with the others."
Heero shakes his head. "Too risky and you know it. You wanted to transport them out secretly, that wouldn't happen if you had a beat-up Gundam that would be useless in a fight. You can frown all you like, it was the right call."
Quatre heaves a sigh and rubs his temples. "Fine, you're right," he agrees. "But you didn't have to listen to Wufei and Duo complain about the tampering. The only one who wasn't surprised was Trowa." He rolls his eyes and reaches for something off screen. A moment later he raises a porcelain teacup to his mouth and takes a sip.
"Wufei and Duo like to hear themselves talk."
Quatre stifles a laugh, nearly choking on his tea. "Be that as it may, I've had a migraine from it for the past few days because of this." He takes another sip of tea before setting the teacup down. Heero hears the soft clink as it settles into the saucer, no doubt also porcelain. "When we finally get this sorted and find a proper location, you should join us."
Heero glances at the screen in surprise.
"It'll be good, getting everyone together again. It probably won't be for a few months, by the time Duo can get us the materials, and it'll be good to catch up." Quatre is smiling. "You may even be off Preventers' Top 10 Most Wanted," he teases lightly.
Heero rolls his eyes. "I'll think about it," he says.
Quatre is still smiling at him brightly. "Do," he urges. "I'll let you know when we've decided on a date and location. And Heero, if you need anything, don't hesitate to reach out. We are still a team, even without a war."
. . ... . .
Heero hacks into Preventers, just for fun and to see if there's anything on the explosion that hadn't made it into the news. There's plenty, of course, but none of it seems overly concerning. There are some questions on whether it really was an accident, some preliminary reports on the size of the fire not being equal to the estimated explosives on the scene, and mention of power loss to the security system due to the storm. Heero clicks through the reports, skimming each of them. He pauses, seeing Noin's name listed as the investigating agent, before he signs out and closes down the laptop.
There are still several hours before Trowa and Catherine would be done with their practice and he feels bored and cooped up. He grabs his sneakers from their spot by the door and tugs them on, tying the laces quickly before heading out, making sure to lock the door behind him.
The backstage area of the circus is like he remembers it – a maze of trailers and trucks, and in the middle the backstage area of the big top and menagerie where the animals are let loose in large fenced runs. Heero pauses, watching as a girl with fire-red hair balances on a pole held by two men. He recognizes the girl from his time during the war, but not the men.
The girl bends her knees and bounces on the pole the men have resting on their shoulders. Heero watches for a while as the acrobats practice and the girl gets tossed effortlessly into the air. She lets out peals of laughter each time she's bounced up and Heero shakes his head, turning back the way he came. He doesn't feel like dealing with Ariel's questions if she spots him.
Instead, he cuts through a gap in the fence separating the backstage area from the midway. During his recuperation he had visited the midway once or twice, practiced shooting the targets set up at one of the booths and slipping away before he was accused of being a ringer. The midway is nearly fully constructed now, only a few booths putting up the final touches. Even though the circus isn't open yet, he can smell the stale scent of burnt popcorn and the sweet smell of cotton candy.
"How'd you get back here?" a voice asks.
Heero pauses, turning to look at one of the midway workers. He's a few years older, face scarred from what looks like a nasty burn, and wearing the blue denim overalls most of the midway workers prefer. Heero doesn't recognize him from his previous visit.
"I'm with the circus," he says evenly.
The man eyes him disbelievingly. "Yeah, that so? I know the other workers and you ain't one. Don't look like one of 'em performers neither," he states. His arms fold across his chest.
Heero shrugs. "I'm not," he says. "I'm visiting a friend."
"Friend got a name?"
He shrugs again. "Most people do," he comments. The man's eyes narrow and Heero takes a breath. He'd been looking for a distraction, not a fight, he reminds himself. He hunches his shoulders slightly, trying to seem less threatening, and lets his gaze slide away from the man.
"We don't like outsiders."
"Yeah," Heero replies. "I got that." He heads back down the midway toward the backstage area. He can feel the other workers' eyes on him and he remembers why he hadn't done as much exploring during his recuperation.
. . ... . .
There's an email waiting for him when he boots up the laptop again. He pauses, frowning at the message icon, before clicking on it. There are actually two emails, and he clicks on the first one automatically.
0700 Mon. U better be right.
He rolls his eyes and deletes Duo's email without responding. He makes a mental note to follow-up with him on Tuesday to make sure he'd gotten the detonators from the factory and hadn't ended up in prison. He clicks on the next email and frowns.
Glad to see you're still alive and well. You wouldn't have to hack the database if you'd just stop being stubborn and sign-on.
-N
He's still staring at the email, debating on how to respond when the trailer door opens and Trowa steps in. He glances over, noticing the flush on Trowa's neck and the exasperated set of his mouth. Heero leans back against the sofa, eyebrows raised curiously.
"Tough practice?"
Trowa snorts, shakes his head, but doesn't elaborate. Heero watches as Trowa disappears into the bedroom, digging through the dresser, before passing back through and into the bathroom. A few moments later the shower starts up and Heero turns his attention back to the message window still open on the laptop.
I don't know why everyone assumes I died.