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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: 3x4, 1+C, 2xOC
Archive: Desolation Angels. Previous parts can be found at http://www.dreamwater.net/ashura/LongLost.html
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Chapter Twelve: Matters of Emotion
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The inside of a Jaguar E-type was not built for comfortable lovemaking. Still, a tipsy Quatre and unfathomably flexible Trowa managed to make the most of what they had. Sleepy and sated, they curled drowsily around each other, partially covered by Quatre's wrinkled shirt.
Trowa's fingers stroked absently through Quatre's damp hair. "I suppose we should head back."
Quatre made a small, half-conscious noise and roused himself, if not to movement then at least to speech. "I guess so...if we have to....This was a good night," he observed, wriggling against Trowa, who shifted beneath him.
"It was," his lover agreed, with an affectionate kiss to his temple. "But you're getting heavy, love, and I'm getting stiff."
"Oh, all right..." Quatre pretended to pout, but crawled off Trowa and into the driver's seat, fumbling for his clothes. "You don't think the others are worried about us, do you?"
Trowa shook his head, stretching as much as the small car allowed to tug on his jeans. "I'm sure they figured it out."
"I suppose you're right," Quatre agreed, squirming into the other seat. Trowa climbed over him to take the wheel, and however reluctantly, they sped away from the deserted road it had taken them so many hours to find, and back to the hotel.
All the lights were off when they reached the suite, and they did their best to stay silent as they crept in. It was a good deal easier for Trowa, who was not only conditioned to it, but completely sober. Quatre giggled as his knees bumped the couch and he almost lost his balance--flailed, and caught Trowa's arm just in time to keep from tumbling onto the body stretched out asleep there.
The body grumbled sleepily and pushed herself blearily onto her arms. "Wha--Quatre--??"
Quatre, clinging to Trowa, giggled his apology. "Cathy? Sorry...what're you doing out here?"
She shrugged, snuggling back into the cushions, a little disoriented herself. "I guess I fell asleep...Heero must've left the blanket. Now go 'way, Quatre, I'm sleeping. Trowa, take him away and put him to bed, will you?"
Trowa chuckled. "With pleasure," he assured her, as his sister's head vanished under the duvet like a turtle into its shell. He scooped the blonde into his arms, to prevent any possible damage to the furniture. Quatre tipsy wasn't normally a problem--Quatre tipsy, tired, and glowing could definitely present one. "Come on, it's late, let's go to bed."
"Okay," the smaller boy agreed easily enough, snuggling into his lover's chest. And by the time Trowa had laid him out on the bed, still in his rumpled clothes and untied shoes, he was already snoring gently.
"Hey, Heero!" The hiss came from entirely too close to his ear, and he pulled his pillow over his head in a vain attempt to escape it and get back to what was just starting to be a very promising dream. It was only Duo, after all. If it was important he'd keep talking, and if it wasn't--well, chances were he'd still keep talking, but there was always the slightest possibility he'd leave Heero alone and go back to bed.
"Heero! C'mon, it's 7:15, I know you're awake. You're always awake."
No such luck, then. Reluctantly, Heero extracted his head from beneath the pillow and blinked sleepy blue eyes at Duo--
Who was fully dressed, though his hair was unbraided and hanging around his shoulders. What was he doing up already?
"Duo? What the hell do you want? When did you get home?"
The former God of Death gave him an entirely too-perky-for-seven-in-the-morning grin. "Just now. Why aren't you up?"
Heero surrendered to forced wakefulness and sat up. "Because I didn't go to bed until three this morning, and I /was/ having a good dream. What about you? Where have you been all night?"
"Met somebody," his roommate returned with another grin, and Heero groaned.
"Duo, if you woke me up to tell me you had sex...."
Duo pouted. It was an expression he must have been practicing since infancy, and it never failed to reduce Heero to malleable mush. "Aw...if a guy can't share good news with his best friend, then what's the point? Anyway, I didn't wake you up for that. I was just telling you I was home--I really /did/ think you'd be up."
Heero did his best to turn a yawn into an exasperated sigh. "All right, who is she? Or is it a he this time?"
Duo flopped carelessly onto his bed. "Librarian. You'd like her, she's Japanese and smart. Anyway she helped me find a bunch of stuff on our little mystery."
"That's useful at least," Heero admitted, wincing as his bare feet touched the cold floor. He really was getting soft. "Do you plan on seeing her again, or does one of the rest of us need to take the library from now on?"
Duo made a face at him, for all it was half-hidden by hair. "It's not like that. Just a casual thing, like. We kinda left it open. Anyway I'm not avoiding her."
"That's good." Heero swallowed his sigh of relief that the teams would not be split up further--all of which brought him around to remembering just what /he'd/ intended to ask Duo about this morning. "Hey...can I ask you something?"
"Is it important?" Duo's voice was muffled, his face buried in his pillow. Heero yanked it out from under him.
"You woke me up, remember? Don't even think you're going back to sleep. Yes, it's important, baka, I'm asking you for advice. Doesn't that mean the world's about to end?"
"You are?" Duo blinked rapidly and put on his best "stunned" face as he rolled onto his back. "I'm sure it at least means Hell's weather report is changing. What's on your mind?"
Ah, now that was a very good question--and now that Heero had the opportunity, he was no longer sure exactly what it was he needed to ask. Duo waited patiently for all of eight seconds while he stumbled over his tongue, til he finally let out an exasperated laugh.
"This is about a girl, isn't it?"
Heero shot him an accusing glare.
Duo raised his arms in surrender, still laughing. "Well, come on--I can't think of anything else that would make you stutter and ask me--/me/--for advice! You're sure not after my impeccable fashion sense, or worried about the latest in incendiary technology!" He rolled upright, crossing his legs and propping his chin on his hands, ignoring his friend's normally potent glare. Then again, he'd been immune to that look for quite some time. "So who is she? Or am I wrong? Is it a boy?"
"No," Heero admitted, suddenly reluctant to part with the information. Maybe asking Duo hadn't been such a good idea after all. "Girl."
"Well?" Duo prompted, a flash of impatience in his violet eyes. "Who--oh!" An entirely wicked grin spread across his fair face, and Heero was certain there were horns growing out of his head. "Catherine Bloom, of course. You haven't talked to any other women lately, after all. So does she like you too?"
Heero did not need words to communicate. Expressions, especially with someone who knew him as well as Duo Maxwell, generally worked just fine--and this one said 'How should I know, moron? I'm asking you for help, aren't I?'
Duo, in return, rolled his eyes. "Just ask her on a date, Heero. Hell, you could even double with Quatre and Trowa--provided he didn't kill you--just to make it less intimidating."
Heero looked skeptical. "You think so?"
"Won't know til you try!" Duo chirped, flopping backward onto his bed again. "What can it hurt? Now what time are we all meeting to discuss results?"
Heero frowned, not entirely happy with the resolution of the former line of conversation. "Relena's coming over at eleven."
"Well then," Duo said, pulling back the blankets and snuggling beneath them, "I have a good...two and a half hours to nap yet. Three if my best, dearest friend in the whole entire world agrees to braid my hair for me," he added, batting his eyes hopefully at Heero, who threw up his hands and nodded. "Thanks! Night!"
And just like that, Duo was asleep and Heero was not, and he knew there was /no/ way he'd ever get back to the exact same dream.
Relena Darlien had picked up something of strategy during her political career. She arrived promptly at eleven, and she'd borrowed Dorothy's car. While not the same yellow monstrosity she'd driven during the war, Miss Catalonia did seem to retain an affinity for vehicles that could adequately house and feed entire an entire army. ("It's to make up for not getting a mobile suit," Duo had explained once, while safely out of earshot--they may have uncovered a heart inside that fair shell after all, but he didn't want to press his luck now that he no longer had a Gundam within easy reach.)
It meant, of course, that there was no reason to take more than one car, and poor Trowa was denied the opportunity to wreak havoc on the streets for one morning. Relena shot him a smug, triumphant look--and winked at him. He pouted at her, and Quatre patted his hand.
"Where we goin'...?" Duo asked blearily, his nap not having been quite so restful as he'd hoped--mainly because Heero had insisted on making /just/ enough noise to keep him from falling completely asleep.
"Breakfast," his utterly unapologetic roommate answered, tugging his braid.
"Oh! Food!" Everything was all right then. Duo was a man of simple tastes. "Pancakes?"
"If that's what you want," said Relena agreeably.
It was a longer, but inherently safer journey than it would have been had any one of the pilots been driving. Duo cajoled Relena into finding a pancake house, and by the time they got there and found a parking place big enough for Dorothy's car, all of their bellies were growling.
"We would have gotten here faster if you let me drive," Trowa began. Relena threw her sweater over his head, and he subsided into barely-audible, good-natured grumbling.
Fortunately, the rest of the workaday world had already had their breakfast, and the place wasn't busy--within a matter of minutes they were seated, caffeinated, and well on their way to being fed. Things were looking up indeed.
"So," Relena began, "I've got some idea of how everything goes together, but I'll ask this first--what did everyone find?"
"Somebody give me your water, I finished mine," moaned Quatre, who couldn't understand how the tiny, teensy bit he'd had to drink the night before could make him wake up with such a headache. How come he was always the one to be hung over? Trowa slid his glass over with an affectionate smile. Much as he hated seeing Quatre miserable, he was an awfully cute drunk.
"Take the damn water, I want COFFEE," Catherine growled, sliding him her glass as well and reaching for the pot. Duo was too busy staring sleepily at it, utterly fascinated by the way the lid went up and down.
Heero looked at Relena and shrugged. "I emailed it to you this morning."
"We were with you," Trowa said simply. "So you know we didn't find anything."
"Which only leaves Duo," Relena said pointedly.
The boy in question looked up from watching the sugar dissolve in his coffee mug. "Oh. Right. I found a lot of stuff, actually." A snicker--which only Heero understood and everyone ignored--and he pulled a stack of photocopied papers from his jacket pocket. "Here," he announced, shoving it toward Relena and Quatre. "This explains a lot."
"So my father and the Qu--my mother's--brother were schoolmates," Quatre said, rubbing at his eyes. He didn't care for the way the letters liked to move around on the pages. Letters ought to remain in the same order, all the time, or how was one supposed to read them?
"Philip Cressida," Relena confirmed, bent over the pages as well. "Heero and Catherine found that last night. And he was killed in a duel with Louis Catalonia."
Quatre winced. "Figures," he grumbled, then caught himself and tried to look apologetic.
"There's pictures of them, too," Duo said, stretching across the table to point out some of the pages. "Good looks run in the family, apparently. Anyway that issue is after the duel. It's got mini-bios on just about everybody, and statements from the family members after the whole thing was over."
"I found some of the same things," Heero agreed, glancing over the copies. "Louis Catalonia was adamant that the Peacecrafts' policies of total pacifism were outdated and useless. He thought they'd change their opinion after the duel, but both the King and Queen go on record saying that it only strengthened their ideals...as does Haroun Winner."
"The funeral was the first time he and Katrina met," Duo continued. "And that was only a year or so before Relena was born...whatever happened, it happened fast."
"Here's a picture of them together," Quatre interrupted, a curious tightness to his voice that prompted Heero to shoot him an uncharacteristically gentle look, and Trowa to squeeze his hand under the table.
It was the only picture of his parents together that he'd ever seen.
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