Toy Soldiers

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"?

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Book I: Sweet Bells Jangled Out of Tune

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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 It was a strange kind of honour that Une did not understand, this submission to long-outdated rules of warfare that had led them from the field to the bedroom.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]