Author's Note:
Rating: PG-13 for language. This was supposed to be straight humor, but it ended up with some drama/general in it as well so go fig. I've added a couple of minor events to Heero's past, nothing dramatically AU I hope, as I also hope this is not OOC.
But I guess that's up to you to decide. Happy Reading!
Bigger Games:
It began to get complicated the day Heero noticed he really didn't like oatmeal. Loathed it in fact, each spoonful was an inner struggle against vomiting, the reward a cold mass of lead congealing in his belly. Not that this minor observation slowed his methodical swallowing. As always, he worked his way efficiently through the bowl, paying only half attention to the chattering of his partner, who seemed to be heatedly discussing the finer points of something called 8-ball with another student across the cafeteria table.
"You sunk it like that...sure..."
Focused on the immediate task, Heero kept an even pace, bringing the spoon to his mouth in steady intervals.
"I've done it, and I'm not on any fancy team either!"
With an feeling he would have called relief had he admitted to emotion, Heero finally scraped his spoon across the bottom of the bowl. He then took a large gulp of the orange flavored beverage that claimed to be all natural. Heero doubted the stuff had been more than waved by a fruit in passing, but his colony upbringing had accustomed him to artificial drinks. The acidic taste did little to remove the memory of breakfast from his mouth.
The voices around him rose. Distracted for a moment, a grimace touched his face before shifting to his usual neutral expression.
"Right." Another of the boys, light haired and greasy, sneered with unveiled sarcasm.
"Are you calling me a liar." Duo narrowed his eyes, his expression the same manic coldness as when he set explosives. The other boy, gifted with the bravery of the ignorant and foolish, plowed forward.
"Prove it!" He said loudly, his limp ponytail flopping behind him like frayed yarn. Two students flanking him parroted shouts of support.
Glancing up from the remains of his detestable breakfast, Heero attempted to catch his partner's eyes. Heads were beginning to turn from surrounding tables. He and Duo weren't supposed to be calling attention to themselves; killing a student in the cafeteria did not seem like the best way to avoid notice. Heero didn't know or care what trouble Duo got himself into, so long as it didn't interfere with the mission. Unfortunately, his partner didn't appear to be paying Heero or mission parameters any mind.
"Bring the whole team, we'll kick all your asses!" Duo shouted, his characteristic grin mocking as he clapped Heero roughly on the shoulder. Startled, Heero barely restrained himself from catching the wrist and breaking it, instead glaring at Duo with what would have been shocked dread on anyone less controlled. On Heero, it merely looked like intense concentration.
"McGlinty's Pool Hall at five."
"Fine."
The three students then turned as one and stalked off towards the exit.
Heero tried to put together the missing pieces of the conversation, usually an easy task considering his near perfect recall, but all he remembered was the sickening texture of the oatmeal he'd just choked down. Before he could piece together more than a few fragments, the bell rang, one minute early by Heero's internal time sense. He repressed a pang of annoyance.
"Third period." He told Duo with a glare that demanded answers.
Duo just grinned, and with a wink and wave, lost himself in the crowd of exiting students.
*****
"So you've gotten us involved in some sort of watersport?" Heero asked quietly as they followed instructions for a Chemistry lab session.
Expressions flashed rapidly across Duo's face, confusion and disbelief. "Watersport?"
"McGlinty's Pool Hall." Heero enunciated each syllable. In a more expressive person it might have sounded enraged, in Heero the even tone merely sounded chill and deadly.
Heero was not amused. His new weakness in food preference combined with a vague concern about the happenings at breakfast had diverted him more than he wanted to admit. In an earlier class he hadn't noticed a teacher talking to him for over a minute, almost gaining him a detention. While Heero figured he owed something for the Mobile Suit parts he'd borrowed a while ago, and...well, the fact that Duo had helped break him out of that one OZ facility, this morning's fiasco was definitely straining that debt.
Sharing a room with Duo was bad enough. The boy only stopped talking when he was asleep or plotting something worse, and his crusade to "lighten Heero up" was so annoying Heero often debated whether the debt of honor would remain strong enough to keep him from actually following through and pulling the trigger. Duo was a good soldier though, and Heero was forced to admit the other pilot had a better understanding than him of the social dynamics of these student packs.
"Not a pool," Duo said with an uneasy laugh, "Pool, you know, the game with the sticks and the balls..." At Heero's uncomprehending stare, he continued, running his hand over his braid in one of his more common gestures, "...and the table, and you have to sink the balls with the cue and you have no idea what I'm talking about do you?"
Heero caught himself short of grabbing Duo by the throat and shaking him vigorously. That someone could talk so much and say so little was beyond comprehension. It was not his place to admit ignorance about another of Duo's irrelevant interests. He clutched a beaker, white knuckled, as the solution inside hissed and bubbled.
"Well, I guess I'll have to teach you then!"
Oh no, Heero thought with an internal groan. Duo said 'teach' with the same obnoxiously determined tone he'd say 'infiltrate' or 'show those Ozzy bastards'. Or 'mission'. Heero wouldn't agree to go, to learn, but somehow he knew he'd end up peering over Duo's shoulder as he was taught the intricacies of yet another distraction. Stress relief. Like those antiquated video games, or the comics Heero now collected in the case of his laptop.
I could always kill him in his sleep. Heero toyed with the notion as tendrils of smoke began to rise from the beaker in his hand. Unfortunately he seemed to have a hard time these days killing people or even pushing people away over harmless activities, especially those who claimed to be his friends. Friendship was a liability. A weakness he would surely overcome, hopefully before his enemies rooted it out. Absentmindedly, Heero handed the mixture to Duo, who proceeded to rapidly pour chemicals into the beaker.
"Hnn." Heero muttered, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
"Great, I'll meet you after school." Duo never said where. He was too smart to assign Heero a location to avoid. Still, Heero knew the boy would be at his elbow the minute the final bell rang to end the day.
Heero said nothing.
*****
Things grew decidedly more difficult the moment Heero found out he really liked pizza. Eyes closed, he savored the scent as a conneseur would test a fine wine. The thin crust crunched between his teeth, mixing with smooth cheese and tangy tomato and herbs, to rest in a satisfied warm spot which filled his stomach completely. Every bite was better than the last, and Heero barely restrained a soft sigh of pleasure as he finished one slice, starting immediately on the next.
In fact, the pizza absorbed him completely until he noticed his partner's unusual lack of chatter. Suddenly concerned, Heero tore himself from his slice, surveying the room for threats. Everything seemed normal...people were sitting, eating, drinking, talking and Duo was staring at him openmouthed, gaping like a fish.
Huh?
"Is something...wrong?" The words came out awkward. Heero was unsure if the question was even necessary, considering the lack of bleeding wounds and gunfire. Still, he waited expectantly for an answer, or at least for Duo to move.
Duo blinked, shaking his head with a soft chuckle. "Nothin' man."
"So, what are the parameters of this game you want me to learn?" Heero asked after an awkward pause.
"The place is across the street. Finish your pizza." Duo said with a wry grin, "Then I'll show you."
*****
Cigarette smoke poured over Heero stinging his eyes as he followed Duo through a heavy oaken door. Inside stood rows of tables, some occupied, most empty. A few people glanced up from their games, assessing the new arrivals and Heero felt himself unconsciously nodding in response. He felt...comfortable. Analyzing the unexpected feeling Heero searched back through his memory, trying to figure out where he had encountered something like this before.
"Don't you think he's a little short to be bringing out here to hang with scumbags like us."
"Hey, who are you calling a scumbag!"
"Ease off Freddy, takes one to know one."
"If you didn't owe me that money, I swear..."
Laughter. "Swearing is a sin, you know."
"Yeah, yeah, ain't none of us going to heaven anyway. So who's the kid Odin?"
"Heero! Earth to Heero. Man, I can't believe I just said that." Laughing, Duo leaned on the edge of the table, one hand extended towards him holding out a long wooden pole.
"Hn."
"Here's your cue stick. The game is pretty simple. All you have to do is use this stick to hit off of the white ball, that's the cueball, and use that ball to hit the other ones into whatever hole you call. Those are called pockets. There's a bunch of other rules, but that's the basics. First I want to show you how to hold the stick."
Heero let the words wash over him, unable to shake a sense of déjà vu. He was concerned. For Heero, memory was like watching a three dimensional digital image, perfectly clear yet detached. This was the product of intensive mental training. Only in the dark of night and under the greatest exhaustion would his memories wring him dry, forcing him awake in cold sweats with only the briefest pain filled images which faded quickly to dust beneath his iron control. They had no power over him when he was awake. And they never distracted his attention. Heero felt cold. Not until today.
"So, you gonna teach the kid how to play?"
"Why else would I bring him here, Freddy?"
"Told you Fred, it's sure not for your stunning company!"
"Shut up De'Marco, I said I'd have your money by the end of the week."
"That's right, or I get your brand new bike."
"Kid got a name?" A voice cut softly over the crowd. Everyone turned respectfully to face an older man. He sat on a
chair, short legs barely touching the ground. Still, his eyes held something deeper than simple curiosity.
"He's my sister's kid. She gave him some foreign sounding name I can't pronounce so I just call him Junior."
"I see." He whispered, staring intently at the man and boy. "He's a quiet one. A quiet one indeed. Let him stay." The
old man nodded, releasing his eyes from the pair before turning back to his drink.
The boy felt himself nod in return.
"Ready to give it a try?" Duo grinned. "I already broke them for you, just pick one and drop it into a pocket."
Heero leaned over the table stick balanced carefully between his fingers, the other hand held further back for guidance and power.
"You're gonna have to give the kid something to stand on, he can't even see to the top of the table."
Taking a deep breath, Heero focused his attention on the solid white ball. Lining up his shot, he felt the lacquered wood smooth between his fingers like something comforting and close. Best to start at the beginning. The yellow one ball required only a simple tap to be placed gently in the corner pocket. Drawing his arm back on the pool cue, Heero took his shot.
"No. No. You have to keep it steady otherwise you'll only hit air. You can't be mad about it kid."
"Yeah, slow and steady, just like workin' a good woman."
"Fred, you don't know anything about a good woman."
"You shouldn't talk about your mother like that, De'Marco."
"I can just kill you and steal your bike."
"Hey, look at how the kid hit that ball! He sunk three at once!"
"Fools and children. Blind luck. It's just blind luck."
With a simple breath, the cue became part of him and he followed it, quietly calling shots as he sank each ball in turn.
"Six ball, left center."
"Wow! Heero, I thought you said you'd never played before!"
"It's simple geometry." Not taking his eyes from the table, Heero analyzed the arrangement of the remaining balls.
"Yeah, but he's sinking them in order."
"What!"
"Doesn't count if he isn't calling his shots."
"You don't call your shots either Freddy."
"Five ball, right center pocket."
Odin laughed heartily as everyone stopped and turned to watch the child.
"The kid's a friggin natural!"
"Yeah, that one. He'll be a hustler for sure."
"Heero, I've been playing this since I was eleven. What you're doing isn't natural."
"You wanted me to learn so you could beat those guys, right?"
"Umm...yeah." Duo responded, his brows furrowed with confusion.
"I'm learning." Heero felt a slight wave of satisfaction. Finally, he could throw his partner off balance for a change. The boy sure confused Heero enough that he didn't mind returning the favor.
Holding the stick between his fingers, Heero added a slight spin to the cue ball, sinking the next three balls in turn.
****
"You lost. " Duo said, conversationally as Heero knocked the last remaining ball into it's pocket.
"How?"
"You were supposed to..."
"Just to let you know kid," Alcoholic breath wafted hot against his skin as the man whispered loud enough that everybody heard. "You gotta sink the eight ball last."
"Hit the eight ball last." The words came from Heero an echo of his memory, and he felt his grip on the pool cue tighten. He didn't understand. This was comprimising his efficiency. It was changing something, as though little pieces of himself were being taken apart and rearranged to fit somewhere far outside the boundaries of his training. Heero had a sinking sense of foreboding.
The past.
"Always follow your emotions kid. When the going gets rough, they'll never lead you wrong, not really."
The future.
"Damn Heero, you've been holding out on me. Who taught you how to play?"
"Nobody."
"Right." Though his tone dripped with sarcastic disbelief, Duo's eyes flashed only a brief question before turning back to the table. "Guess it's my turn then." Duo added finally, leaning over to rack up another game.
As annoying as Duo could be, he had an innate talent for when it was important to be quiet. Self preservation, Heero decided after a moments thought. Still, fingers white knuckled against the pool cue, Heero couldn't help feeling a stab of gratitude for his partner's solicitude.
Deliberately relaxing each finger in turn, Heero forced his attention back into the here and now. He was slipping. A cold knot lay leaden in his stomach, another sign of how far he had fallen. He couldn't eliminate his emotions but he could control them. Discipline. Training. They were constants, dependable. Constants that slipped away as he grasped for them all the more, and that made him afraid.
"Emotions only serve to make you weak, my boy. They may fuel you for a time, but it's a fragile strength. And more often than not, they are a distraction."
****
"Well, if they aren't early."
Heero glanced up from the pool cue to see a large crowd approaching the table. His earlier concerns were pushed brutally aside as Heero automatically analyzed the group, noting the three guys from earlier that morning. Even with the advantage of numbers, Heero rated their combat ability as minimal. "They brought friends."
"Yeah, looks like they brought the whole fraggin' school with them."
"Hn."
"Didn't know we'd spooked them out that bad."
"Duo?"
"Yeah."
"What exactly did you bet them anyway?"
"Only twenty dollars," Duo responded with a feral grin. "'Course, then that jerk Ryan raised it, so now we're stuck beating the whole damn team first."
Huh?
That someone could speak so much and say so little never failed to baffle Heero. But he was curious. Things were rarely simple or predictable where Duo was concerned.
"Ryan, good! You finally found the place!" Duo shouted amiably. "Think you brought enough people to watch you get your ass beat?"
Ryan turned a fascinating shade of red and stuttered painfully before drawing up to his original bluster. "This is the team you have to beat."
"Right, all forty of them. How many did you have to club and drag in off the sidewalk?"
"What...scared...?"
Duo looked over the assembled group for a good ten seconds before shaking his head slowly. "Naah."
Someone laughed.
Ryan glowered. "You know, playing pool professionally is different from just hustling in bars."
"I know." Duo grinned.
"And your friend?"
"What about me?" Heero kept his tone neutral, but when he met the other boys eyes, Ryan's slid aside.
Heero realized this was probably the first time Ryan had heard him speak outside class. Rapidly sorting back through his recent memory, Heero verified this fact. Usually Duo did enough talking for the both of them. The silence went on a beat too long before Ryan spoke again.
"Are you ready to share in his humiliating defeat?" He said in a voice Heero guessed was supposed to sound menacing.
Ryan still refused to meet his eyes. Heero wondered what he had seen there.
"No." Heero stated. Duo's face froze. He felt...strange. Heavy, like take-off without the adrenaline. He didn't like it. Leaving now would be more conspicuous than sticking out the game, Heero decided. He heard himself saying, "Let's begin."
Another choked twitter came from the crowd. Something akin to surprise or maybe relief flashed over Duo's features. Without speaking, Duo started to rack the table.
****
The crowd was silent as Duo took his final shot. A near impossible shot, but he hadn't missed one yet. The crowd had grown as the game progressed, until almost everyone in the hall was now gathered around their table.
Heero and Duo had wound up alternating games instead of turns: Duo because of his honed skills and Heero due to the memories that guided him. Memories which seemed less invasive as the games progressed.
Duo had even allowed Ryan to go first for this game, a generosity which only illustrated for the audience Ryan's inflated sense of his own abilities when he missed an easy shot early on. The boy's expression had moved from cocky to nervous to angry to finally rest at a sort of grudging respect.
Now Duo's eyes were flat as he lined the stick to the cue.
"I don't lie." Duo whispered under his breath as he drew his arm back. The cueball seemed to twist on impact, bouncing off the far wall to tap the 8-ball into the corner pocket with barely a tap. The crowd exploded in cheers, chatter and applause.
"That was amazing!"
"I never thought...."
"We should ask them to join the team."
"Think they would?"
It felt strange. Good. Heero filed back through his memory briefly; no, he had never been the victim of spontaneous applause before. Duo was grinning his 'I kicked your ass grin', as he sometimes called it. Heero felt the corners of his mouth rise in response.
"Fine. So you can play." Ryan's voice cut over the diminishing crowd noise. His tone had lost some of it's arrogance but still he sounded skeptical. "There's still no way you can make that shot you talked about."
Duo never dropped his grin. "Put your money where your mouth is."
Ryan reached into his pocket, pulled out a twenty dollar bill and placed it carefully in the center of the table.
"Ladies and Gentleman...and the rest of you people," Duo waited for the laughter to die down before continuing, "My man Ryan is putting money on a sure thing and that's about to land him in a whole lot of trouble."
Duo reached under the pool table and picked up three balls: white, black, and yellow. "You see, he's bet me that I can't hit the 8-ball into the center pocket from here..." Duo placed the 8-ball ten centimeters in front of the center pocket, "...with my cueball here." He then placed the cue about the same distance from the opposing
center pocket.
"But that's easy!" Someone exclaimed.
"Seems that way. Hey Ryan, why don't you explain the hard part?"
Ryan snatched the one ball from Duo's hand and dropped it on top of the twenty dollar bill. The 1-ball was now directly between the cue and 8-ball. "He says he can do it without hitting touching the 1-ball with the cueball or hitting any of the rails."
"That's right. For all you non-professionals, that means I'm going to whiz this cueball right past the 1-ball," Duo pointed at the 1-ball, "which will be resting comfortably on the top of my twenty dollar bill, and the only ball I will touch will be the 8-ball when I sink it."
"And you can't jump the cueball." Ryan added.
"Or bounce it off the walls, I know." Duo said in an almost bored tone.
Heero studied the table. As skilled as Duo was at the game, Heero could not grasp how he could make that shot. The cue would have to do a semicircle around the 1-ball and then again do a 90 degree turn to come up behind the 8-ball to knock it successfully into the pocket. It seemed to defy all laws of physics. Yet in spite of all evidence, Heero was not concerned his partner would fail. Duo never seemed to take any laws into account, he was too busy twisting them to his will. Duo was up to something, Heero was sure. To his surprise, Heero was burning to know what it was.
Learning the methods of possible allies is only sensible for a soldier, Heero decided. It was a logic tinged too much emotion, and one he'd been using far too often of late.
"So who wants to bet against a sure thing?" Duo said, leaning casually against the table.
"Just take the shot already!" Another bystander yelled.
"Alright. Alright." Duo quickly bent over the table and took the 1-ball briefly off the twenty. He then rolled the bill into a tube and stood the tube up, placing the 1-ball back on top of it. With this one change, Heero noted approving, the impossible shot had just become easy.
"That's not fair!"
"It's hysterical!"
"Shhh..."
Without speaking, Duo picked up his cue stick and took his shot. The cueball passed straight underneath the 1-ball, not even grazing the rolled up twenty. It hit the 8-ball with a dull crack and the crowd watched in shock as both the 8-ball and cueball both slid down the center pocket.
"What's that mean?" Ryan asked after a few seconds of everyone staring silently at the table.
"I hit it too soft." Duo scowled, his hand white knuckled around the cue. "It worked last time!" He added with a slight growl.
"He did sink the 8-ball." Shouted someone from the back of the crowd.
"Yeah, and he didn't break any of the rules."
"But he sank the cueball. That doesn't count."
"It's a good trick though."
"Nope," Duo sighed, resigned. "I lost, fair and square."
"Let's just split the difference." Ryan said, holding out his hand.
Duo gave a half smile and took it. "I've got a better idea. How about I match you twenty and we use it to order pizza."
"You watch that one, Junior."
The boy stared, his feet dangling from a too tall stool, his eyes too serious for someone so young. "But he's losing." He said finally.
"Yup. But watch how he moves. See how the other one is just reacting. That's the sign of someone playing a bigger game."
"Yeah, you always say that when you're having an off day, Fred."
"I'm dispensing valuable advice here."
"Right."
Heero blinked and he was standing in a circle of people who were plying his partner with questions and comments.
"You were really great!"
Duo smiled. "Naah, just pissed off."
"I still can't believe you scratched that last shot." A girl with spiky blond hair chimed in.
"Me either. That was friggin' embarrassing." Duo shook his head. "Guess you can't be perfect all the time." He added with a half smile. Their eyes met for a moment. Bigger games. Then Duo slid his eyes away.
Wins and losses, battles and wars, the past and the future: they were all playing bigger games. Games with rules his training only had partially prepared him for. And it would only grow more complex from here, Heero realized. But for the present, Heero decided he would enjoy the pizza.
End.
Criticism and Praise always appreciated!
Drop a review or email me: vashti@force.stwing.upenn.edu