Toy Soldiers
by Ashura
disclaimer: I don't own GW. Surprise, surprise.
pairings: One more revealed this chapter! You know I'd tell you if it wouldn't spoil
the surprise...but you might have guessed by now, ne? So far: 13x5.
warnings/notes: AU, because playing fast and loose with the
timeline and actual events. Yaoi, het,
drama, angst, violence, sap--um, how about just "everything"?
****************
Book I: Sweet Bells Jangled Out of Tune
****************
Chapter Five
"Act when
advantageous, halt when not advantageous."
--Sun Tzu (The
Art of War)
//I think I'm in
love with him.//
The words echoed
in Une's brain, stubbornly refusing to fade from her memory. They lingered long after Treize had passed
out in his chair, past the point when she had hauled him to his bed and tucked
a blanket around him before escaping to her shuttle and the safety of Fortress
Barge. It did not good to try to shut
them out and retreat back into the compliant haze of denial that she had taken
refuge in so long--he had confessed far to much to her, in alcohol-enhanced
trust, and her battered heart ached for it.
It was almost too
surreal to believe. She remembered the
duel itself, between Treize and the pilot of Gundam 05, but had not been
witness to the aftermath. For that she
was glad. Treize had come out the
victor, but had been too intrigued by the Gundam pilot's integrity to kill
him. It was the rise of adrenaline, he
claimed, for a man's reaction was not so different between war and sex. He said he was entranced by the young man's
defiant dark eyes, and without really thinking about what he was doing, he had
claimed a different kind of death as his prize for the duel.
To his even
greater surprise, the boy had, if reluctantly, agreed. It was a strange kind of honour that Une did
not understand, this submission to long-outdated rules of warfare that had led
them from the field to the bedroom. Neither one had any real experience with another man, but from Treize'
halting explanations--sometimes vague allusions, sometimes painfully
clear--they'd been reasonably successful at figuring it out as they went along.
But that was not
what kept Une's heart clenched so tight. She had known, if in a vague and undefined way, that Treize was hardly
celibate; she had merely avoided thinking about it. Wufei understood him, he told her, as not even she or Zechs
could; they were both old souls, warriors holding desperately to a code the
world seemed to find no value in anymore. That they were both men, that they were enemies--these were unpleasant
truths, but they made no difference in the feelings that continue to grow until
they could no longer be controlled. It
hurt them both, that they still fought on opposite sides, and the promise had
been Treize' attempt to keep divided their two lives. It made sense, even she could see that. They needed to lay down rules, or the parts of them that were
adversaries would bleed into their love affair, and poison both.
But the way he
described the pilot...there was a shine in his eyes she had seen only once
before, and that was what chilled her so thoroughly. //It was the same with Leia...he only had to see her once, and he
was gone.// But it hurt too much to
recall--the memories were too much to bear. She tried to take refuge in the side of her that was cold and ruthless,
but that side cared as much as her softer self did. One half of Une loved Treize, the other half killed for him, and
she no longer had the power to be strong.
//I won't
cry. I won't. It's weak to cry.//
Masking her pain
in pride, she fled for the sanctuary of her room.
****
Duo heard the
faint whir of the door sliding shut, and forced his breathing into a steady,
even pulse. He'd gotten in the habit of
pretending to be asleep whenever anyone was present; the worse off they thought
he was, the better chance he'd have of escaping later. Oh, he knew when he did that he was going to
miss Dr. Blythe's regular injections of pensycolene, but he'd survive. He'd just be in a lot of pain. It wouldn't be the first time.
It was in the
midst of this reverie that he realised that whoever had come in hadn't checked
on him yet. More to the point, the
muffled sound coming from the direction of the door sounded suspiciously like
someone trying very hard not to cry.
He rolled
carefully onto his side and cracked open one eye. He could see Une's blurred silhouette, her back to the door,
hunched forward with her head in her hands. His breath caught in his throat with the startled realisation--she
really was crying. He wouldn't have
thought it possible--he wasn't sure why, but it was true nonetheless.
And while he was
certainly no expert, he could think of only one thing that could bring Une to
tears.
His body never
really bothered to consult his brain, just stretched sore bruised muscles and
crawled out of bed, straining against the fog of dissolving painkillers and
extreme injury. He hated to see anyone
upset. "Hey...what's the
matter...?" he asked, padding
across the floor to face her.
She choked off a
sob, trying to school her face into its usual calm facade, but her lip was
trembling as she tried to order him back to bed. "I feel fine," he protested, though he didn't, and
disguised his very real pain by pressing his hands against the door to each
side of her shoulders. "But you
don't, that's obvious...c'mon, Nicole, tell me what's wrong...or let me
guess...Treize?" Each syllable
brought her defenses a step closer to crumbling, and by the time the name left
his lips she was shivering, sliding weakly down the wall.
Duo dropped
slowly to his knees to face her, his body protesting his sudden ill treatment
of it. His fingers brushed her cheek,
tilted her face up to meet his gaze. The devastation in her soft hazel eyes was as painful in its own way as
the dulled sting of the letters carved into his shoulderblades. "Even I can see how devoted you are to
him. He /should/ love you."
She shook her
head frantically, tearing her eyes away. "No." The single
syllable hung in the air between them and shattered as if it were a tangible
thing. "He couldn't," she
whispered brokenly. "Not after
what I've done...not when he loves one of you."
"One
of--" Duo blinked back shock as
Une, defeated, sagged back against the wall. He didn't understand what her words meant, sinking slowly into his
still-foggy brain--it was at least as uncomfortably startling as the fact that
he was kneeling over the crumpled, sobbing form of an enemy and wanting
irrationally to comfort her.
He gathered her
into his arms and cradled her against his chest. Some part of his brain, attempting unsuccessfully to remind him
that this was still his enemy, noted with detachment how fragile she seemed,
how her crimson uniform jacket seemed too big for her, how she sagged limply
against him. "If Treize can't see
what he's missing in you," he whispered soothingly, "then he's an
idiot."
She started to
look away again--he caught her chin gently in his fingers and turned her back
to him. He would never really
understand later what made him initiate that first tentative kiss, pressing his
lips against hers with surprising tenderness--the instinct to comfort, he would
claim, and the real proximity of her slender curves to his only-too-teenage
body. He would understand even less
what made her respond, save her desperate need to be cared for, to fill the
aching emptiness in her soul. At the
time it was enough. He tasted the salt
of tears on her lips as she melted against him, and drew her carefully
upright--they balanced on each other, backing step by slow hesitant step til
she tumbled onto the bed and he climbed more carefully over her. What little of his mind remained cogent
tried to caution him--//This is your enemy,// it told him, //your captor. Not your friend.//
//Not true,// he
told the inner voice to silence it. //Colonel Une is my enemy, that's true...but not Nicole. And this--this is only Nicole....//
He lost his
balance trying to slide her jacket from her shoulders; his arms ceased to hold
him up and he collapsed on top of her, feeling her rapid heartbeat and the soft
swell of her breast beneath his cheek. His battered body responded despite its injuries, and their next kiss
was urgent, feverish.
Une was not a
virgin, but neither was she particularly experienced--she never seemed quite
certain what to do with her hands, and after her awkward fumblings touched one
too many of Duo's countless bruises he put a stop to them, pressing her wrists
into the mattress with a gentle admonishment not to interfere. He moved slowly for both their sakes, his
deliberate exploration of her body a testament to their respective
frailties. Her ragged breathing was
punctuated by whimpers when at last he entered her, his own hypersensitive
nerves singing with the caress of her skin. They rocked together in rhythmic, lonely desperation, struggling against
despair, their completion thick with as much heartache as pleasure.
Still, it wasn't
an unpleasant feeling, when they curled together like frightened kittens, and
drifted to sleep in the damp, tangled sheets.
****
Duo was dragged
into consciousness by the insistent burning ache in his limbs. The last dose of pensycolene had worn off a
bit early thanks to his unexpected nocturnal activities, and now the renewed
pain of his injuries woke him ahead of schedule.
For a few minutes
he was content to ignore it, lying with his head pillowed comfortably against
Nicole's shoulder, one arm and most of his hair splayed across her chest, the
light blanket a comfortable weight against the parts of him not still covered
in welts.
Then the
uncomfortable revelation hit him--this was his chance.
It was probably
the only one he was likely to get. Nicole's steady breathing and the flutter of her lashes suggested she
wouldn't wake up soon, and it wasn't yet time for Dr. Blythe to come pump him
full of drugs. The passkey was in her
jacket pocket. He could be gone within
minutes.
Duo bit back a
groan. //I could, but I'd feel like an
asshole. Hell, I'd BE an asshole. She'd think I seduced her just to escape.//
The little voice
of survivalism wanted to know--rather uncharitably, in Duo's opinion--why he
cared one way or the other what she thought of him once he was gone.
He disentangled
himself from her, and crawled out of the blankets, fumbling for his
clothes. He told himself that she would
understand--she had said herself, she knew how the game was played. They were still fighting on opposite sides
of a war, and she wouldn't fault him for taking the opportunity he was
presented with.
He still felt
like an asshole.
Finally, he
reached a compromise with himself. No-one could move as silently as the self-proclaimed God of Death, and
Une was still dreaming, curled on her side. Duo flipped on her computer--any communications programme would do, he
didn't need anything complicated.
After all, he
just wanted to leave a note.
****
Lady Une slumped
in her chair, her chin propped on her upturned hand, staring blankly around her
quarters. She hadn't been dreaming; the
evidence was still very present, from the soiled sheets to the message flashing
brazenly on her console screen.
And most
importantly, the pilot was gone.
She read it over
once again, still unsure what to make of it or its significance.
//Nicole,// it
read, and she winced, reflexively turning to block the screen despite the fact she was alone.
//I know this is
the worst sort of low, and I apologise. I don't want you to think I'm the kind of asshole who would sleep with
you and run away--normally I'm not. But
you should understand. It's part of the
game. 'Act when advantageous,' Sun Tzu
said. I'd be an idiot not to escape
now. You understand that.//
//But that wasn't
why I kissed you.//
//I hope you feel
better. And tell Treize I said he's a
fool.//
//Duo.//
Well, that was
that then. She had to make her
report. Treize would be awake, she
should tell him as soon as possible--and part of her was quite tempted to relay
Duo's message to him verbatim.
She found a
little vindictive pleasure in seeing his sleep-mazed face appear on her screen
when she typed in his code--so he wasn't completely ready to go about the day
yet after all. He straightened
immediately after one glance at her expression.
"Lady...you
left quickly. Is there some emergency
of which I should be made aware?"
"Indeed,"
she returned acidly. "Our captured
Gundam pilot has escaped."
"What?" Even Treize' famous composure could not
totally contain his surprise. "I
thought he was too drugged to move! How
did this happen?"
"Apparently,"
said Une wryly, "he got better."
Treize frowned. "Such a trouble, that--we just lost our
biggest advantage, and without him we're certainly not gaining any supporters
down here. At least I hadn't gotten
around to /telling/ them we had a captured Gundam pilot in your bed--"
"Your
Excellency," Une interrupted coldly, her eyes flashing white fire. "How many times, /sir/, have /you/ had
a Gundam pilot in your bed and let him go free?"
Treize paled, his
initial expression of shock replaced almost immediately with regret.
"So,"
he said softly, "that's why you left." His gaze turned down toward his hands and he refused to meet her
gaze. It was so unlike him, and so
endearing ,that she found herself softening. "Well," he continued sadly, "we shall just have to make
amends, somehow."
He might have meant
within Oz, or he may have meant between the two of them. With Treize, it could be so difficult to
tell.
[end book I]
