Dream Roses-chapter two
Disclaimer: I do not own the wonderful Gundam pilots but one day I will clone them and own the clones mwahahahahaha...Err...yeah..
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A faint chirping awoke the normally heavy sleeping Duo Maxwell. Silently cursing the interruption he sat up in bed, annoyed to find that it was still that hideously cramped army cot he had been confined to while he was waiting to be rescued. It had been Quatre that had told him to lay low after the mission, telling the agitated Duo to clean himself up as best as possible and relax while they set out on the recovery mission. Its was all right for Quatre, he had his safe houses and feather beds in every room. Not a one bedroomed smelly apartment where the only light came from a neon 'Girls Girls Girls' sign outside the only window and the bed felt like it was made of concrete. The injuries he had sustained had woken up with him and now sent an incessant throb of pain through the young boy's slender body. Duo had heard nothing from the blond Arabian since he reported his position to them over a week ago, and as far as he was concerned one hour was too long when spending it in this place.
"When are they gonna come and get me already?!" One booted foot kicked at the floor with exasperation. "I could have flown home myself in Deathscythe by now!" He argued to the invisible Quatre by his side, even though he knew it was virtually impossible. It hadn't just been the pilot to get beaten up, and now Deathscythe lay battered in a warehouse just down the street like some sort of giant cod fish. If it hadn't have been for sheltering his beloved Gundam, Duo would probably have had more comfort for himself. All the money he had for emergencies was blown on that warehouse with a no- questions-asked approach. And that meant no spare cash for Duo's own luxuries. And since he wasn't known for his patient characteristics the American teen felt fairly sure he would be occupied by watching paint dry at this point in time. Or rather; violet eyes rested on the skirting boards, watching the paint peel off again.
"It's all his fault I'm here," the young pilot muttered sadly. "All I'm-so- brilliant Yuy's fault...If it hadn't have been for him I would never have gotten distracted." He sat up a little further, one arm wrapped around his chest to try and ease the pain. "And another thing! I would never have been distracted if he hadn't noticed Relena! So it's all his fault! I can't believe he accused me of being useless! It was his fault! So up yours Yuy, it was your problem, not mine!" A final concluding nod of braided head emphasised his smug smile. That would teach Heero to call him useless. Feeling very proud of himself Duo didn't hear the door open, or hear the handgun hammer being cocked back.
"Christ, Duo! I almost shot you!" Now that voice did disturb the braided pilot's self-satisfied reverie and made him swivel round with such force it felt like he had broken another rib. There, framed by the sunlight stood Master Quatre Winner himself, a 9mm pointed straight at 02 pilot's head.
"What? Why? You knew I was here! What did you think? That I'd lied and led you into a trap or something?!" Even through his clothes he could feel his heart pounding. What the heck was Quatre thinking?!
"Well you were making so much noise I thought you were being attacked or something. Forgive a guy for being concerned." Sliding the gun back into it's holster, the Sandrock pilot hurriedly moved to help his friend up. "What were you shouting about anyway? You could have been heard by anyone within a mile radius." Quatre joked, slinging one supporting arm around the American's waist.
"Huh? Oh, nothing important," Duo half lied, leaning some of his weight on the blond. It was true he never told a lie, and it hadn't been a lie. Not a complete one anyway. After all, Heero wasn't important to him at all. Especially when he had been the cause of Duo's injuries. But some buzzing little voice in the back of his head told him differently.
"I'm sorry about the wait and everything, but we couldn't go anywhere until Wing Zero was repaired," the shorter boy explained, steadying his fellow pilot as the braided teen decided to stop suddenly, staring at Quatre incredulously.
"Wing Zero got damaged?" The American asked tentatively. "How?" The other boy's reply was a simple shrug, trying to guide his injured friend towards the door, but not having much luck.
"Heero wouldn't say exactly. Just that he foolishly allowed himself to be distracted by someone." Quatre shrugged again, a little more keen on getting Duo out of death's cesspit and into the waiting car outside than answering questions. And at last it seemed that the hyperactive brunette was willing to co-operate. A little too willing as the Arabian found himself almost being dragged out of the room, not having a choice in the matter since Duo still had a firm hold of his shoulders.
The car ride home proved uneventful which was lucky; OZ soldiers still hadn't realised that Gundam pilots didn't just travel around in Gundams so didn't have the intelligence to search any cars. With the blond in the driver's seat and the brunette languishing in the front passenger seat as though he were a beached whale, occasionally moving the favour of his arm from one arm rest to another and OZ soldier would have counted it as suspicious. If, of course, Quatre had not had the foresight to bring the car with blacked out windows. Beside him Deathscythe's pilot repeatedly whimpered and cast pleading looks in his direction like a lost little puppy to make Quatre drive faster. And though loathed to admit it the ploy worked and one Arabian foot pressed down harder on the accelerator. For some obscure reason that the blue eyed boy couldn't explain his fellow pilot had the makings of an insane grin on his face. It had been that way ever since the conversation about who would pick up Deathscythe and what happened at the base to cause such damage. With a proud smirk the violet eyed teen had replied it was Heero's fault and left it at that. And though Quatre tried his hardest to understand how Wing's pilot could have possibly have an effect on Duo's performance on the battlefield he just couldn't find a logical reason. But then again, when had Duo ever resorted to logic?
It had taken longer than expected to return to the safe house, mainly because the violet eyed boy had kept complaining of travel sickness and ordered his driver to pull over on numerous occasions, though Quatre suspected that it was more to do with interesting flora and fauna that had been spotted along the roadside. He may have been a vicious Gundam pilot at times but from experience the blond knew Duo could be the gentlest of all five trained killers, often putting off some of the most important things to sit in the garden of one safe house or another. The American usually replied when questioned about his priorities that he barely had time to notice the simple, beautiful things in life in the occupation he held. And Quatre was inclined to agree with him. Unusual as it was to think of the brash American appreciating more than fighting and working to eliminate OZ's constricting hold over the colonies and Earth, he actually did have a sensitive side, more childlike than Heero, Trowa or Wufei who worked for the greater good and nothing else. But once the car finally pulled to a stop outside the pale brick mansion the braided boy got some much needed medical attention by all accounts and could be put to bed. As luck would have it the only bones broken were his ribs and they would heal up after the surgery Quatre's personal doctor performed. One sprained wrist and minor cuts ensured a week or two of comfort and pampering for the pilot of 02, much to the displeasure of the other four boys who knew all too well how much Duo would take advantage of being waited on hand and foot.
How different the sky looked when viewing it from the safety of a warm bed, Duo reflected from beneath the covers of an overly sized four poster. Nothing but the best for poor injured little Duo, Quatre had stated warmly and Duo himself was only going to argue the point that he was by no means 'little' when stoic Trowa had appeared in the doorway. Knowing it would be pointless putting forward his argument now that the small blonde's lover had turned up, the long haired brunette resigned himself to letting that comment slip. Shortly after a chaste kiss and warm embrace the two had retreated from the room together, leaving Duo to brood over the colours forming by retreating sunlight. Instead of the previously seen blues and pinks, the landscape here was overshadowed by a vibrant orange, streaked here and there with waves of pale yellow. Lead grey clouds sparsely decorated the flaming atmosphere, brining with them the threat of rain later on in the night. But what did he care? He was leading the good life for a fortnight or so, along with his four friends who had been guaranteed a break from fighting since OZ was regrouping itself and carefully plotting it's next move, meaning the Gundam pilots would be inactive for at least five days. As per usual Heero and Wufei had protested, claiming it was better to strike while OZ was down and allow them an all out victory. But Trowa had soon pointed out that they couldn't strike if there was nothing to strike at, plus the break would be a welcome rest and relaxation time. A soft knock floated through the room, head so heavy with sleep the violet eyed boy could barely look up in the direction of the door. It had remained open since the departure of the tall brunette and his Arabian lover as Duo hadn't been bothered to shut it, and now, said brunette had returned, leaning against the door frame like he had never moved.
"Hey Trowa! You seen Heero around, I thought he might have been courteous enough to come and see unfortunate injured little me wouldn't you say?" Chirpy voice rang through the peaceful evening air and made the tallest soldier wince from the pitch, but he put it down to not having heard from Duo for so long.
"He's recovering from his own injuries Duo," Trowa stated simply, a little amused by the other boy's half stunned look.
"So the Perfect Soldier bagged himself a few knocks to the head did he? Can't say I sympathise though, it's his own fault for paying too much attention to that Relena chick. You'd never see me getting distracted by a female that's for sure. I'm more of a professional than Heero, dedicated, you know? Did I tell you it was Heero's fault I'm in this condition? Yeah, his glaring face appeared on my monitor telling me not to screw up. Well the joke is on him now 'cos he was the one that screwed up, and all because he was too concerned about a girl." The shorter brunette's ramblings came to an end, punctuating his speech by throwing a purple eyed stare in Trowa's direction. Trowa, being the Silent Soldier, said nothing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~ Sorry for taking so long with this part, it was kinda half hindered by personal problems if you get what I mean. Don't you just hate it when someone gives you writers block?! Chapter three coming up in a short while, and thanks for all my nice reviews. I shall reward you all with a little lemon as soon as I can.
~*Rose Blood*~
Disclaimer: I do not own the wonderful Gundam pilots but one day I will clone them and own the clones mwahahahahaha...Err...yeah..
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~
A faint chirping awoke the normally heavy sleeping Duo Maxwell. Silently cursing the interruption he sat up in bed, annoyed to find that it was still that hideously cramped army cot he had been confined to while he was waiting to be rescued. It had been Quatre that had told him to lay low after the mission, telling the agitated Duo to clean himself up as best as possible and relax while they set out on the recovery mission. Its was all right for Quatre, he had his safe houses and feather beds in every room. Not a one bedroomed smelly apartment where the only light came from a neon 'Girls Girls Girls' sign outside the only window and the bed felt like it was made of concrete. The injuries he had sustained had woken up with him and now sent an incessant throb of pain through the young boy's slender body. Duo had heard nothing from the blond Arabian since he reported his position to them over a week ago, and as far as he was concerned one hour was too long when spending it in this place.
"When are they gonna come and get me already?!" One booted foot kicked at the floor with exasperation. "I could have flown home myself in Deathscythe by now!" He argued to the invisible Quatre by his side, even though he knew it was virtually impossible. It hadn't just been the pilot to get beaten up, and now Deathscythe lay battered in a warehouse just down the street like some sort of giant cod fish. If it hadn't have been for sheltering his beloved Gundam, Duo would probably have had more comfort for himself. All the money he had for emergencies was blown on that warehouse with a no- questions-asked approach. And that meant no spare cash for Duo's own luxuries. And since he wasn't known for his patient characteristics the American teen felt fairly sure he would be occupied by watching paint dry at this point in time. Or rather; violet eyes rested on the skirting boards, watching the paint peel off again.
"It's all his fault I'm here," the young pilot muttered sadly. "All I'm-so- brilliant Yuy's fault...If it hadn't have been for him I would never have gotten distracted." He sat up a little further, one arm wrapped around his chest to try and ease the pain. "And another thing! I would never have been distracted if he hadn't noticed Relena! So it's all his fault! I can't believe he accused me of being useless! It was his fault! So up yours Yuy, it was your problem, not mine!" A final concluding nod of braided head emphasised his smug smile. That would teach Heero to call him useless. Feeling very proud of himself Duo didn't hear the door open, or hear the handgun hammer being cocked back.
"Christ, Duo! I almost shot you!" Now that voice did disturb the braided pilot's self-satisfied reverie and made him swivel round with such force it felt like he had broken another rib. There, framed by the sunlight stood Master Quatre Winner himself, a 9mm pointed straight at 02 pilot's head.
"What? Why? You knew I was here! What did you think? That I'd lied and led you into a trap or something?!" Even through his clothes he could feel his heart pounding. What the heck was Quatre thinking?!
"Well you were making so much noise I thought you were being attacked or something. Forgive a guy for being concerned." Sliding the gun back into it's holster, the Sandrock pilot hurriedly moved to help his friend up. "What were you shouting about anyway? You could have been heard by anyone within a mile radius." Quatre joked, slinging one supporting arm around the American's waist.
"Huh? Oh, nothing important," Duo half lied, leaning some of his weight on the blond. It was true he never told a lie, and it hadn't been a lie. Not a complete one anyway. After all, Heero wasn't important to him at all. Especially when he had been the cause of Duo's injuries. But some buzzing little voice in the back of his head told him differently.
"I'm sorry about the wait and everything, but we couldn't go anywhere until Wing Zero was repaired," the shorter boy explained, steadying his fellow pilot as the braided teen decided to stop suddenly, staring at Quatre incredulously.
"Wing Zero got damaged?" The American asked tentatively. "How?" The other boy's reply was a simple shrug, trying to guide his injured friend towards the door, but not having much luck.
"Heero wouldn't say exactly. Just that he foolishly allowed himself to be distracted by someone." Quatre shrugged again, a little more keen on getting Duo out of death's cesspit and into the waiting car outside than answering questions. And at last it seemed that the hyperactive brunette was willing to co-operate. A little too willing as the Arabian found himself almost being dragged out of the room, not having a choice in the matter since Duo still had a firm hold of his shoulders.
The car ride home proved uneventful which was lucky; OZ soldiers still hadn't realised that Gundam pilots didn't just travel around in Gundams so didn't have the intelligence to search any cars. With the blond in the driver's seat and the brunette languishing in the front passenger seat as though he were a beached whale, occasionally moving the favour of his arm from one arm rest to another and OZ soldier would have counted it as suspicious. If, of course, Quatre had not had the foresight to bring the car with blacked out windows. Beside him Deathscythe's pilot repeatedly whimpered and cast pleading looks in his direction like a lost little puppy to make Quatre drive faster. And though loathed to admit it the ploy worked and one Arabian foot pressed down harder on the accelerator. For some obscure reason that the blue eyed boy couldn't explain his fellow pilot had the makings of an insane grin on his face. It had been that way ever since the conversation about who would pick up Deathscythe and what happened at the base to cause such damage. With a proud smirk the violet eyed teen had replied it was Heero's fault and left it at that. And though Quatre tried his hardest to understand how Wing's pilot could have possibly have an effect on Duo's performance on the battlefield he just couldn't find a logical reason. But then again, when had Duo ever resorted to logic?
It had taken longer than expected to return to the safe house, mainly because the violet eyed boy had kept complaining of travel sickness and ordered his driver to pull over on numerous occasions, though Quatre suspected that it was more to do with interesting flora and fauna that had been spotted along the roadside. He may have been a vicious Gundam pilot at times but from experience the blond knew Duo could be the gentlest of all five trained killers, often putting off some of the most important things to sit in the garden of one safe house or another. The American usually replied when questioned about his priorities that he barely had time to notice the simple, beautiful things in life in the occupation he held. And Quatre was inclined to agree with him. Unusual as it was to think of the brash American appreciating more than fighting and working to eliminate OZ's constricting hold over the colonies and Earth, he actually did have a sensitive side, more childlike than Heero, Trowa or Wufei who worked for the greater good and nothing else. But once the car finally pulled to a stop outside the pale brick mansion the braided boy got some much needed medical attention by all accounts and could be put to bed. As luck would have it the only bones broken were his ribs and they would heal up after the surgery Quatre's personal doctor performed. One sprained wrist and minor cuts ensured a week or two of comfort and pampering for the pilot of 02, much to the displeasure of the other four boys who knew all too well how much Duo would take advantage of being waited on hand and foot.
How different the sky looked when viewing it from the safety of a warm bed, Duo reflected from beneath the covers of an overly sized four poster. Nothing but the best for poor injured little Duo, Quatre had stated warmly and Duo himself was only going to argue the point that he was by no means 'little' when stoic Trowa had appeared in the doorway. Knowing it would be pointless putting forward his argument now that the small blonde's lover had turned up, the long haired brunette resigned himself to letting that comment slip. Shortly after a chaste kiss and warm embrace the two had retreated from the room together, leaving Duo to brood over the colours forming by retreating sunlight. Instead of the previously seen blues and pinks, the landscape here was overshadowed by a vibrant orange, streaked here and there with waves of pale yellow. Lead grey clouds sparsely decorated the flaming atmosphere, brining with them the threat of rain later on in the night. But what did he care? He was leading the good life for a fortnight or so, along with his four friends who had been guaranteed a break from fighting since OZ was regrouping itself and carefully plotting it's next move, meaning the Gundam pilots would be inactive for at least five days. As per usual Heero and Wufei had protested, claiming it was better to strike while OZ was down and allow them an all out victory. But Trowa had soon pointed out that they couldn't strike if there was nothing to strike at, plus the break would be a welcome rest and relaxation time. A soft knock floated through the room, head so heavy with sleep the violet eyed boy could barely look up in the direction of the door. It had remained open since the departure of the tall brunette and his Arabian lover as Duo hadn't been bothered to shut it, and now, said brunette had returned, leaning against the door frame like he had never moved.
"Hey Trowa! You seen Heero around, I thought he might have been courteous enough to come and see unfortunate injured little me wouldn't you say?" Chirpy voice rang through the peaceful evening air and made the tallest soldier wince from the pitch, but he put it down to not having heard from Duo for so long.
"He's recovering from his own injuries Duo," Trowa stated simply, a little amused by the other boy's half stunned look.
"So the Perfect Soldier bagged himself a few knocks to the head did he? Can't say I sympathise though, it's his own fault for paying too much attention to that Relena chick. You'd never see me getting distracted by a female that's for sure. I'm more of a professional than Heero, dedicated, you know? Did I tell you it was Heero's fault I'm in this condition? Yeah, his glaring face appeared on my monitor telling me not to screw up. Well the joke is on him now 'cos he was the one that screwed up, and all because he was too concerned about a girl." The shorter brunette's ramblings came to an end, punctuating his speech by throwing a purple eyed stare in Trowa's direction. Trowa, being the Silent Soldier, said nothing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~ Sorry for taking so long with this part, it was kinda half hindered by personal problems if you get what I mean. Don't you just hate it when someone gives you writers block?! Chapter three coming up in a short while, and thanks for all my nice reviews. I shall reward you all with a little lemon as soon as I can.
~*Rose Blood*~
