*********
Long Lost
Disclaimer: I still don't own GW or any of its characters. I tried, but Evilnmalice outbid me. (Fortunately it didn't pay up, so it doesn't own them either.)
Warnings: None
Pairings: so far, only 3x4, we'll see how things develop
Archive: Desolation Angels.
************
Chapter Ten: On the Path of Truth
************
Duo let out a sigh and slumped onto the table. He was surrounded by a pile of yellowed newspapers and tabloid magazines, and the dust was making his nose tickle.
Duo decided he'd earned break. Shoving the pile aside and fumbling in his pocket for cigarettes, he abandoned the realms of twenty-year-old court intrigue for the damp, musty autumn air.
He lit a cigarette as the library door swung shut behind him, ignoring the pointed glare of a young mother who was ushering her child out of a nearby car. Smoking was hardly the most death-defying thing Duo had ever done, and despite Heero and Hilde both nagging him about it incessantly, he wasn't inclined to feel apologetic over it.
He punched his access number into the public phone that stood sentinel near the door. It rang at least eight times before the visual receiver clicked on to reveal Hilde, wrapped in an oversized t-shirt and hastily toweling her hair. "Yes—oh! Duo!" A sigh of relief at the familiar, unthreatening face of her roommate. "How's it going?"
"Dusty," Duo proclaimed, wrinkling his nose. "I'm taking a break, thought I'd call and see how you were."
Hilde shrugged, tossing the towel aside and running her fingers through her short dark hair. "Business as usual, really. I get to drive the forklift a lot without Heero around to lift things."
Duo grinned. "So that's why you wanted to get rid of him...and I, as usual, tag along in his wake...."
Hilde snorted. "I think Heero would dispute that, and I for one know better. Not that I don't /like/ having the place all to myself," she added. "It's amasingly quiet here without you."
"Aw, but Hilde," Duo teased, "I would never have thought you /liked/ it quiet!"
"Well, I do—sometimes," she amended with a grin, before re-settling herself in front of the phone on what Duo recognised as one of their kitchen stools. "So why don't you tell me how the sleuthing is going? I'm dying of curiousity here!"
Duo grinned. "Oh, all right!" He flicked the last ashes from his cigarette and snubbed it out on the bricks of the library wall. "It's going pretty slowly, Hilde, to be honest. We've figured out that the Queen had Relena, took off for L4, and had Quatre, but that's about it. Oh—and that Mr Winner was an old friend of her brother's or something. That's the part we're looking for now."
Hilde nodded thoughtfully. "Let me guess—the old records have all been 'cleaned out' so there's nothing to find."
Duo nodded. "You got it. I'm in the library looking through old gossip columns."
She laughed. "Then get back to it! I have a scrapyard to run—I can see Murphy's truck pulling in right now, and I'm not dressed. Besides, you have scandals to uncover."
Duo grinned sheepishly. "Okay, okay, I'll let you go. See you when we get back, Hilde."
"Sure thing. Say hi to everybody for me. And keep me updated," she added impishly.
He tossed her a hasty mock-salute. "Ninmu ryokai!"
She clicked off the phone, and he got back to work.
"Sir?" A soft voice called to him as he settled back at the table. He looked up to see one of the librarians, a slim brunette barely older than Duo himself, cradling a plastic-covered periodical in her arms. "This might help you, I thought I'd bring it over for you to see."
"Huh? Oh, thanks—let's take a look." She set it down in front of him, flipping through pages til a bright full-colour spread opened in front of him. "This one."
THE DEATH OF A DYNASTY, it read. A NATION DEVOTED TO PACIFISM ENCOUTNERS A NEW KIND OF BATTLE.
It was an analysis of the Sanq Kingdom's demise—not comprehensive by any means, but informative nonetheless. Duo's eyes widened. "This is fantastic, thanks!"
The librarian smiled, her hazel eyes sparkling. It was, Duo, realised abruptly, the same look he'd seen on Wufei's face from time to time at the prospect of new knowledge. //Huh...that's a thought. Wonder why nobody's called in Wu-man and Sally on this yet? Probably because he's never gotten along with Relena, so she wouldn't think to. Well, maybe if we need his help later.//
"I'll let you know if I find anything else," the girl said, vanishing into stacks of books, and Duo bent over the magazine to glean what he could.
********
Empty-handed and subdued, Relena, Quatre, and Trowa piled back into the car they'd left parked on the lawn.
Quatre patted Relena's shoulder comfortingly. "We may not have found anything, but I'm glad we went," he told her honestly.
Trowa nodded. "Sure was something to see," he agreed, turning the key to bring the E-type rumbling to life. "You both buckled in?"
His white-knuckled passengers nodded. "Why do you keep letting him drive?" Relena asked in a low voice—not low enough, and Trowa laughed.
"Yes, Quatre, why /do/ you?" he asked teasingly.
"Because he doesn't get to drive my car very often," Quatre answered innocently, ignoring his lover. "Or /any/ nice car, for that matter—just those trucks the circus uses to cart things around in. And he likes it. And since I love him," he added dryly, "I foolishly trust him not to endanger my life."
"Besides," Trowa inserted smootly, "get Quatre here on a bad day, and he redefines the term 'road rage.'"
Relena raised an eyebrow, and Quatre blushed.
They spun into the driveway of the house Relena shared with Zechs and Noin, and skidded to a screeching halt outside her door.
"Pick you up tomorrow?" Trowa asked as she climbed gingerly out of the backseat.
She made a face at him. "No thanks. How about /I/ pick /you/ up?"
Trowa looked disappointed. Quatre chuckled. "Suit yourself." She tossed them both a wave and disappeared inside.
Trowa reached for the gear shift and found Quatre's fingers lacing into his own.
"I think we should go see what else Sanq has to offer," the blonde said neutrally, though from the corner of his eye Trowa could see the smile threatening to break across his face.
"You mean we should stall," he responded, deadpan.
Quatre did grin at that. "Are you saying you don't /want/ to spend some time alone with me?" he demanded, trying to sound hurt and failing miserably.
Trowa lifted their joined hands to his lips, kissing his lover's fingers teasingly. "Of course not."
Quatre smirked, brushing those same fingers across Trowa's lips. "Then let's go into town for a while. I found a restaurant earlier I want to try with you, and I'm not ready to go back to the others yet."
"All right," Trowa said agreeably. "You navigate."
The car very nearly took flight, and Quatre chose to keep his mind off the possibility of imminent doom by tracing abstract patterns along the length of Trowa's denim-clad thigh. "I hope the others had better luck," he mused thoughtfully.
"Quatre," said Trowa reluctantly, "your doing that is making it really hard to keep my mind on driving."
Quatre considered carefully how much fun danger could really be.