Disclaimer: If it sounds familiar, it doesn't belong to me.
2nd Interlude
By Zero's Wings
Finally Quatre finished his story, and fell back in his seat, exhausted. Trowa stared at him, not with the confusion and thinly veiled terror that he had after Heero's story, but with a look of sensitive contemplation, and a bit more respect than usual. Heero's face had a similar expression, but his eyes were more alive than Trowa's. Alive in a bad way, that is. Trowa's emerald eyes were simply dead of emotion, whereas Heero's danced with an icy fire, the cold, killing fire. Quatre smiled at them both. They would come around eventually. And besides, they were both far more human now than during the war. They would've never taken the time nor had the patience to listen to his story, nor would Heero share his own with them, not in a million years. Things were different, definitely changing for the better, and Quatre hoped that these admissions would help each of them sort through their own life and understand it.
"What'd I miss?" Duo asked, finally emerging from the bathroom.
"Nothin' much," Quatre said nonchalantly, swigging down the last of his chocolate milk.
"Well, that's good. I'm goin' to bed."
*****
A.C. 197 - The Gundam pilots had sprung into action once more, and saved earth from a fatal colony drop as well as the misguided young tyrant Mariemaia Kushrenada. Dekim Barton, the insurrection's true leader and puppetmaster, was dead, entombed in his great fortress a hundred feet below the pavement of Brussels, Belgium.
The Gundams had been reduced to ashes, except the Zero, which was now little more than a crumbling relic in the Smithsonian, plastic laminated over its near-indestructible armor, with glue in all its joints and caulk in all its circuits. There was a small set of stairs you could climb to get to its cockpit, which was filled with big, glossy posters of Wing Zero's pilot, Heero Yuy, as well as an authentic replica of the orange space suit he wore when he first came down through the earth's atmosphere. The engines had been removed, and the gigantic twin buster rifle was held in a glass case in another room.
Heero went to visit Zero every now and then, but he found the experience to be unusually depressing. To him, it felt like going to an open-casket funeral for an old friend, but finding that his body had been desecrated by thieves in the night. Heero would sign autographs for the few aging war buffs who recognized his face, along with the hundreds of screaming pre-teen girls who had his poster on their bedroom walls. The other Gundam pilots faded from the spotlight, though Quatre sometimes went on TV and did public service announcements, and Duo modeled with his old-fashioned Catholic threads, which became the rage on California Island.
The Gundam pilots went their separate ways for the most part. Duo went back to L-2 to run his salvage business with Hilde, Quatre went back to L-4 to run his family's business, Trowa went back to the circus with his sister, Catherine, Wufei was a Preventer headquartered in the Sanc Kingdom, and Heero stayed in Sanc as well. He visited Relena often, and the two went out for dinner when she finished her work, or coffee in the morning if she wasn't very busy that day. They weren't dates, Heero told himself. There was more familiarity between them, it wasn't about discovery; it was about just feeling comfortable around one another. Sally Po joked that they acted like an old married couple, and Wufei rebuked her with tempered harshness.
The Gundam pilots met up at Howard's villa/naval base/repair shop in the Spice Islands every few months. They all acted more casual and relaxed when they met together. Heero didn't like it. That old cliché kept running in his head: It was quiet, too quiet. Somehow, this idyllic lifestyle was getting to him more than his hit-and-run lifestyle did during the war. He couldn't settle down, he needed to be occupied.
Heero spent nearly all his money on an old-fashioned ground car, a gorgeous Ferrari 308, and punched up its horsepower with a Nitrous Oxide injector from his Gundam. It was fun, but there was simply no comparison to flying Wing Zero low over Earth's atmosphere.
Heero then tried following Duo's example. He drank a little, smoked a little pot, and partied late at night with the long braided pilot. Heero didn't like being out of control of his own body though. He tried desperately not to think this way, but he couldn't deny what his brain was telling him, that these things lowered his effectiveness in combat. So he drank a little more, smoked a little more, and partied a little more, then gave it all up while he felt he still had a chance. It was suprisingly difficult.
On one of their reunions at Howard's place, Quatre brought up that night that they shared the stories of each other's pasts. Duo, Wufei, and Trowa were still mute about their early lives, and Trowa had been acting kind of strange lately. After Quatre brought that up, Trowa started mumbling cryptically to himself. Late one night, after Duo and Wufei had gone up to bed on the third floor of the house, Quatre, Trowa, and Heero found themselves in an eerily familiar situation. Quatre decided to ask Trowa what had been bothering him so much.
"Nothing...nothing." Trowa said in a nearly inaudible whisper.
"I'll make us some coffee, and we can discuss this over it," Quatre said. "Heero, how do you take yours?"
"Black," the grim pilot responded.
"I should've figured. And you, Trowa?" Quatre looked over at his friend with an increasing amount of concern. Trowa, had curled up, hugging his legs and rocking back and forth. He was whispering something that sounded like: "moon...life...hanged man." Quatre felt tears of frustration and fear welling up in his eyes, but he pushed them back with some difficulty.
"I'll make it just like mine," he said in a soothing voice, "lotsa cream and lotsa sugar." Trowa stopped rocking back and forth. As Quatre got up to make the coffee, Trowa's whispering ceased as well. Coherent words formed in his mouth for the first time in hours.
"...with cinnamon," he said quietly.
*****
Duo was suddenly jolted awake by a thunderous sound right outside his window. He lifted up part of the venetian blind with his left hand, and his eyes widened in shock. Outside, a huge mobile suit had landed only a few hundred feet away. It was painted blue and white, and had openings reminiscent of giant pores, giving the suit an organic look. It was dark outside, but Duo could easily see that the suit was larger than any of the Gundams, even the Wing Zero. There was a knock at his door, and Duo reached for the Desert Eagle .50 that he kept hidden under his pillow. The door was suddenly kicked open and a tall, wiry man stepped in from the light of the hallway.
The stranger looked at Duo, then shined an incredibly bright flashlight at the young pilot. Duo held a hand up to shield his eyes.
"Hey, who the hell are you?" he yelled. He then heard the man curse under his breath.
"That doesn't matter. You're not Heero Yuy."
"No shit I'm not Heero Yuy! Now tell me who you are!" Duo demanded forcefully. The man, unfazed, pulled out a 9mm pistol with a huge silencer. At that instant, Duo dove for the pillow hiding his own weapon. Just when he had the soft purchase of his bedspread in his hands, there was a yellow-white flash, with hardly any sound accompanying it at all, and he was thrown into a wall at the opposite end of the room. Duo felt completely numb with shock. Eventually, he came back down to earth and was immediately greeted by the worst pain he had ever felt in his life: a white fire drilling horribly into his side. That sonofabitch shot me, he thought hatefully, and then he lost conciseness.
*****
Trowa drank his coffee with cinnamon, an uncharacteristic grin spreading across his face. "I suppose there will never be a better time," he said, the smile fading fast from his face. And with that he began again where Quatre and Heero had left off two years prior, sharing his life with the two of them...
End of 2nd Interlude
Aren't cliffhangers evil? ^_^ Please leave feedback!!
2nd Interlude
By Zero's Wings
Finally Quatre finished his story, and fell back in his seat, exhausted. Trowa stared at him, not with the confusion and thinly veiled terror that he had after Heero's story, but with a look of sensitive contemplation, and a bit more respect than usual. Heero's face had a similar expression, but his eyes were more alive than Trowa's. Alive in a bad way, that is. Trowa's emerald eyes were simply dead of emotion, whereas Heero's danced with an icy fire, the cold, killing fire. Quatre smiled at them both. They would come around eventually. And besides, they were both far more human now than during the war. They would've never taken the time nor had the patience to listen to his story, nor would Heero share his own with them, not in a million years. Things were different, definitely changing for the better, and Quatre hoped that these admissions would help each of them sort through their own life and understand it.
"What'd I miss?" Duo asked, finally emerging from the bathroom.
"Nothin' much," Quatre said nonchalantly, swigging down the last of his chocolate milk.
"Well, that's good. I'm goin' to bed."
*****
A.C. 197 - The Gundam pilots had sprung into action once more, and saved earth from a fatal colony drop as well as the misguided young tyrant Mariemaia Kushrenada. Dekim Barton, the insurrection's true leader and puppetmaster, was dead, entombed in his great fortress a hundred feet below the pavement of Brussels, Belgium.
The Gundams had been reduced to ashes, except the Zero, which was now little more than a crumbling relic in the Smithsonian, plastic laminated over its near-indestructible armor, with glue in all its joints and caulk in all its circuits. There was a small set of stairs you could climb to get to its cockpit, which was filled with big, glossy posters of Wing Zero's pilot, Heero Yuy, as well as an authentic replica of the orange space suit he wore when he first came down through the earth's atmosphere. The engines had been removed, and the gigantic twin buster rifle was held in a glass case in another room.
Heero went to visit Zero every now and then, but he found the experience to be unusually depressing. To him, it felt like going to an open-casket funeral for an old friend, but finding that his body had been desecrated by thieves in the night. Heero would sign autographs for the few aging war buffs who recognized his face, along with the hundreds of screaming pre-teen girls who had his poster on their bedroom walls. The other Gundam pilots faded from the spotlight, though Quatre sometimes went on TV and did public service announcements, and Duo modeled with his old-fashioned Catholic threads, which became the rage on California Island.
The Gundam pilots went their separate ways for the most part. Duo went back to L-2 to run his salvage business with Hilde, Quatre went back to L-4 to run his family's business, Trowa went back to the circus with his sister, Catherine, Wufei was a Preventer headquartered in the Sanc Kingdom, and Heero stayed in Sanc as well. He visited Relena often, and the two went out for dinner when she finished her work, or coffee in the morning if she wasn't very busy that day. They weren't dates, Heero told himself. There was more familiarity between them, it wasn't about discovery; it was about just feeling comfortable around one another. Sally Po joked that they acted like an old married couple, and Wufei rebuked her with tempered harshness.
The Gundam pilots met up at Howard's villa/naval base/repair shop in the Spice Islands every few months. They all acted more casual and relaxed when they met together. Heero didn't like it. That old cliché kept running in his head: It was quiet, too quiet. Somehow, this idyllic lifestyle was getting to him more than his hit-and-run lifestyle did during the war. He couldn't settle down, he needed to be occupied.
Heero spent nearly all his money on an old-fashioned ground car, a gorgeous Ferrari 308, and punched up its horsepower with a Nitrous Oxide injector from his Gundam. It was fun, but there was simply no comparison to flying Wing Zero low over Earth's atmosphere.
Heero then tried following Duo's example. He drank a little, smoked a little pot, and partied late at night with the long braided pilot. Heero didn't like being out of control of his own body though. He tried desperately not to think this way, but he couldn't deny what his brain was telling him, that these things lowered his effectiveness in combat. So he drank a little more, smoked a little more, and partied a little more, then gave it all up while he felt he still had a chance. It was suprisingly difficult.
On one of their reunions at Howard's place, Quatre brought up that night that they shared the stories of each other's pasts. Duo, Wufei, and Trowa were still mute about their early lives, and Trowa had been acting kind of strange lately. After Quatre brought that up, Trowa started mumbling cryptically to himself. Late one night, after Duo and Wufei had gone up to bed on the third floor of the house, Quatre, Trowa, and Heero found themselves in an eerily familiar situation. Quatre decided to ask Trowa what had been bothering him so much.
"Nothing...nothing." Trowa said in a nearly inaudible whisper.
"I'll make us some coffee, and we can discuss this over it," Quatre said. "Heero, how do you take yours?"
"Black," the grim pilot responded.
"I should've figured. And you, Trowa?" Quatre looked over at his friend with an increasing amount of concern. Trowa, had curled up, hugging his legs and rocking back and forth. He was whispering something that sounded like: "moon...life...hanged man." Quatre felt tears of frustration and fear welling up in his eyes, but he pushed them back with some difficulty.
"I'll make it just like mine," he said in a soothing voice, "lotsa cream and lotsa sugar." Trowa stopped rocking back and forth. As Quatre got up to make the coffee, Trowa's whispering ceased as well. Coherent words formed in his mouth for the first time in hours.
"...with cinnamon," he said quietly.
*****
Duo was suddenly jolted awake by a thunderous sound right outside his window. He lifted up part of the venetian blind with his left hand, and his eyes widened in shock. Outside, a huge mobile suit had landed only a few hundred feet away. It was painted blue and white, and had openings reminiscent of giant pores, giving the suit an organic look. It was dark outside, but Duo could easily see that the suit was larger than any of the Gundams, even the Wing Zero. There was a knock at his door, and Duo reached for the Desert Eagle .50 that he kept hidden under his pillow. The door was suddenly kicked open and a tall, wiry man stepped in from the light of the hallway.
The stranger looked at Duo, then shined an incredibly bright flashlight at the young pilot. Duo held a hand up to shield his eyes.
"Hey, who the hell are you?" he yelled. He then heard the man curse under his breath.
"That doesn't matter. You're not Heero Yuy."
"No shit I'm not Heero Yuy! Now tell me who you are!" Duo demanded forcefully. The man, unfazed, pulled out a 9mm pistol with a huge silencer. At that instant, Duo dove for the pillow hiding his own weapon. Just when he had the soft purchase of his bedspread in his hands, there was a yellow-white flash, with hardly any sound accompanying it at all, and he was thrown into a wall at the opposite end of the room. Duo felt completely numb with shock. Eventually, he came back down to earth and was immediately greeted by the worst pain he had ever felt in his life: a white fire drilling horribly into his side. That sonofabitch shot me, he thought hatefully, and then he lost conciseness.
*****
Trowa drank his coffee with cinnamon, an uncharacteristic grin spreading across his face. "I suppose there will never be a better time," he said, the smile fading fast from his face. And with that he began again where Quatre and Heero had left off two years prior, sharing his life with the two of them...
End of 2nd Interlude
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