There Goes the World: Chapter 2: The beginning of many things
Disclaimer: Same as before. I don't own the characters, etc.
Duo left shortly after Quatre agreed, and the blonde headed home to pack for the business trip. There wasn't much to pack, but no matter how short the trip, he always packed anyway, just in case he got sidetracked or stuck. He packed an extra change of clothes, reading material, toothbrush, some paperwork he might need for the conference, and last but not least, his handgun. He kind of hated packing it, he was always worried that it would somehow give him away as a Gundam pilot, but he required it for protection.
Rashid entered the room just as Quatre dropped the gun into his bag.
"Quatre-sama, Duo came by before. Did he find you at the café?"
"Yeah, Rashid," Quatre sighed, trying not to sound too disappointed. He knew Rashid would see right through him, but he also knew that Rashid wouldn't ask questions. "Thank you for telling him where I was."
"It was no problem. I thought you might like to see him again."
"Yeah, it was nice. Look, Rashid, in the coming weeks, I think I'll be spending a lot of time in space. Could you…go to Saudi Arabia and get the Maganac Corps. together, just in case?" Rashid nodded, and then approached the window and opened it. Quatre hated when he did that, it made the blonde feel as though Rashid was his maid. The dignified warrior had insisted on following him to this rather remote location, all because Rashid knew Quatre got lonely every once in a while.
"Will you be eating dinner here tonight?"
"Yes, I think I will." After all, I may not see home for a while after tomorrow, Quatre added gloomily.
Rashid left the room then, and in what seemed like no time, dinner had been prepared. Quatre had helped, and even though a couple of hours had passed between Quatre returning from the café and dinner, he still didn't know where the time had gone. He did know why the time had gone so quickly, though. While he and Rashid had prepared dinner, they had talked about the old missions Quatre used to go on, the missions with real purpose. They had soon trailed off onto matters concerning the other Gundam pilots, and one matter in particular had passed their time.
Trowa Barton.
Quatre fondly remembered when he used to have a crush on Trowa, back when both of them had been no older than 16. AS the blonde sat after dinner, he smiled, almost laughing, and remembered how much he had 'loved' Trowa. In his memory it seemed almost comical, but in the past it had been very real to him. He didn't know if he was quite over the crush; he hadn't seen Trowa in such a long time. But he knew he had grown out of it, in a sense. If he still felt anything towards Trowa, he knew the feelings would not manifest as some boyhood crush. They were both nearly in their twenties now; Quatre believed that they could be more mature about their feelings.
As twilight descended gracefully upon the world around him, he took out his old violin. It had undergone unbelievable usage since the last time any of the Gundam pilots had seen it. The glossy polish on the wood had long since started to wear off, the neck of the instrument seemed almost ready to break the blonde had worn it down so much. But this way it had a familiar feel to it, and the music that came from it was as sweet as ever. The violin was an old friend to Quatre, a reliable, dependable old companion. Even if the neck did break someday, he didn't believe he would ever get rid of it. He played whatever came to mind, the sound floating dreamily on the semi-humid air like a childhood memory of summer, and Quatre couldn't help but close his eyes and imagine the sweet sounds of his violin gently wooing the children of the town to sleep.
He also couldn't help but wonder what the Hell he was doing fighting again. This thought came on the heels of the image of the town falling asleep to his music, and it turned the sound bitter. He was such a pacifist, why was he going on another stealth mission? He was a sympathetic, passive, son of a businessman. What was he doing quelching rebel uprisings? He knew that part of the reason he did it was because he didn't want to be the victim, and he wanted to prove to others that 'people like him' didn't always end up as victims. But he was a victim. The other pilots exploited him to no end; they were the obstacles to achieving his goal. No matter what he did or where he went, someone took advantage of him. It used to depress him to know that, but he'd become more mature now. Now, he took a firmer hold in controlling his life and what happened in it. Yet, he pondered as he played, he had given in to Duo without any argument at all.
He had to stop playing at this point, the music sounding like nails on a blackboard to him. He put the violin down and headed up to his room, unable to play over the thoughts in his head. He threw himself on his bed, and fell asleep before any thought could corrupt his dreams.
His alarm cut through the silent house, but it was a moment before he rolled out of bed, stretching and yawning. He walked across the hall and into the bathroom, where he shed his clothes and hopped in the shower. The feel of the water woke him up slowly; he almost felt like he had a revelation as the water slowly kicked his mind into gear. He remembered Duo coming to visit yesterday, and he remembered his stealth mission. As he shampooed his hair, he couldn't help but anticipate his meeting with the other pilots. It had been such a long time since they had all been together; it would almost be like a class reunion.
He stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist as he took another one to his hair. After he dried off and clothed himself, he picked up his suitcase and headed out.
He drove himself to the spaceport, parked, checked-in, and waited. He couldn't stop his mind from wandering as he stared blankly at his reading material. He attempted to focus upon the words on the page, but hr soon found himself thinking about the other pilots again. Usually they sent missions via e-mail. Why had Duo delivered the message in person this time?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"You told him?" Trowa asked in his tiring monotone. Duo clicked away at the keyboard a few minutes before answering. The room was dark save for the light from the computer screen, and Duo's eyes were straining. But Trowa insisted upon it, since this was their L205 base. It had taken them forever to discover and abandoned building that was still in good shape, and they were careful to use an outside connection for the computer. They had discovered that some of the offices (the abandoned building had been a business center at one point) still had electricity. Duo chose a room with working lights, only to have realized, later on, that they couldn't use the lights without being noticed. Now the available electricity only acted as temptation, taunting him from someplace he couldn't reach.
Duo shoved away from the computer, both table and chair almost tipping, and swiveled to face Trowa.
"I told him, alright. And he agreed. His flight to L201 just boarded and is due for takeoff from module 10 in twenty minutes." Trowa didn't react to any of this, and Duo stared at him. "He—"
"Shh. I know." Trowa silenced Duo, knowing what he planned to say. Quatre had been reluctant, he didn't seem as devoted as he used to be. Trowa didn't care. He simply hoped all those moral and personal issues Quatre had wouldn't put the blonde in more danger than he was in already. Trowa hadn't seen Quatre in just under a year. Of course, the blonde hadn't seen Trowa in a lot longer than that; Trowa liked to keep his visits short and distant. He hoped Quatre would come back soon, so they could meet face-to-face again.
Heero knocked and entered without waiting for a reply. Trowa and Duo looked at him and then they turned back to the computer.
"They're beginning to get suspicious. We should leave." Neither Trowa nor Duo argued. Duo began typing once again, stifling a yawn, and had soon reserved seats for a flight leaving ten minutes before Quatre's.
"We're outta here in four and a half hours."
Heero looked like he was preparing a protest to the amount of time, but he knew they'd need to be here in case Quatre's confirmation mission went wrong. Poor Quatre, Duo thought, He always thinks he's alone on these missions, never realizing that we're his guardian angels, always ready to save him from harm.
Trowa stood up.
"That's fine. It gives us enough time to cover our tracks." He said, and walked out of the room. Heero sat down in the vacant seat without a word.
"Quatre's going to be heartbroken. Again." Duo said, although he hated talking about it.
"I'm sure he's gotten over it." Heero replied, emotionless.
"Doesn't it make you sad when he cries, Heero? Don't you just want to comfort him and wipe away his tears?" Duo regretted speaking those words as soon as they filled the silence and left a more painful silence in their wake.
"Trowa does that in his own way." Heero stood up and left as well. Duo stared after him, tempted to follow him and tell him to prove it. How did Heero know what Trowa was up to? Duo felt that Trowa only toyed with Quatre's emotions; he never confirmed or denied them. It almost made Duo hateful, but he just chuckled and turned back to the computer. What was he getting so upset about? Let Trowa show his emotion whatever way he pleased, and let Quatre deal with it the best way he could.
He shut down the computer and folded the tiny laptop as he packed everything up. All the extraneous objects stayed, such as wires and power strips, but all the papers came with him in his trusty manila folder. He headed out the door, and was surprised to see Wufei, standing there, intense onyx eyes on Duo's face.
"I know what you're planning to do, Duo." He muttered. Duo relaxed and smiled, waving a hand in dismissal.
"Yeah, I'm planning to cover my tracks." Wufei shook his head.
"No, I mean with Quatre. You'll only cause trouble if you—" Wufei stopped as Duo started walking away. The brunette could feel his heart pounding in his chest, hoping Wufei would stop talking. Did Wufei really think Duo didn't realize the possible consequences of his prepared action?
"Don't walk away from me, Maxwell! I give up on you pilots, you're hopeless! I'm not participating in this love-triangle of a mission you've concocted, you fool! You've got no sense of justice!" Duo stopped and spun around, prepared to confront Wufei and ask him what he meant by 'love-triangle of a mission'. Duo couldn't help it that people didn't want to live in peace with one another!
"What love-triangle are—"
Wufei was gone.
"Damn moody Chinese people…" Duo grumbled as he turned and walked away.