Author's Note: Wow, I never expected to get the number of reviews I did, considering that I really didn't tell many people about this story. My thanks goes out to Dream Angel (keep writing those amazing poems), Lisek16 (let's see who's the longest reviewer now), and Lara Winner (My God, can you write), as well as anyone else who bothered reading this. I know it was short, but that was more of a prologue than anything else. I promise that the upcoming chapters, including this one, will definitely be more plot oriented.

Disclaimer: You know I don't own this series, so why are you asking? No, I still don't own the series, but I'll tell you when I buy out Sunrise, okay?

Chapter 2: A Unexpected Visitor

The only sounds I heard that morning were that of the stalling engine and Duo cursing under his breath. I stood off to the side of him, chewing impatiently on the cap of my pen and shifting my weight from side to side as he tinkered with the engine of the motorcycle underneath me. I knew he was angry, or at the very least frustrated, and I also knew that in times like this he was either going to break early for lunch and cool down or end up mauling the engine even worse than it already was.

Thankfully, he chose the first option and I saw him crawl out from under the belly of the motorcycle, oil streaked across his cheek like tribal paint. I watched him grab one of the towels he kept balled up on his desk and wipe the grease smudges off his face and arms. He turned to me, a broad grin touching his lips.

"I always forget how hungry I get when I'm working. What do you say you go get us something to eat?" he asked, eyes shining brightly.

"What, are we not capable of making lunch ourselves?" I teased, evoking Duo's pouting powers complete with quivering bottom lip slightly protruding. "Alright, alright. Will sandwiches be okay?"

Duo nodded enthusiastically and I went inside to fix our lunches, tossing in a little tomato, a few leaves of lettuce, and whatever else I could scrounge up in the bare refrigerator. Duo came in a few minutes later, freshened up after a quick shower and change of clothes. As he crossed the room, he gave a friendly pat on the back, fingers lingering within the hollow between my shoulder blades. I felt my breath hitch, and I wondered if he heard it too. If he had, he chose to ignore it, for his fingers left my back in turn for balancing him as he leaned against the countertop beside me.

"How are you?" he asked cheerfully, breaking the silent monotony hanging thickly in the air.

"Fine." I pointed a mustard-stained finger over to an unopened letter lying on the kitchen table. "A letter came from Sally Po this morning. Probably has something to do with the Preventors."

"Leave it. I'll worry about it later."

Duo grabbed an apple off the back of the sink, and with a hasty rub on the tail of his shirt, he bit into the thing with a sharp crunch. I frowned at him, giving him his now useless sandwich, but then remembered that this was Duo here, and that by the time I had gotten settled down with my lunch he would already be begging for seconds. But it was that childlike quality of his that he fought so hard to retain, something long lost by the rest of us after the war, that had originally attracted me to him. It was his mature ideals that made me stay.

It had been a year and a half since he and I met right before the moon factory incident, six months since we began the scrap yard project, and three since the whole episode with Mariemaia and Duo was finally able to put the war behind him. He never spoke of Operation Meteor or Deathscythe and if he were forced to talk about the subject, he would bring up an old anecdote about one of the other pilots and suddenly become engrossed in replacing the cables in a beat-up car. Only once did he willingly bring up the subject, at breakfast one morning while watching the news on the little black and white television we keep placed on the edge of the table.

I was reading the newspaper in the next room, but heard the word 'OZ' broadcasted clearly through the fuzzy static. It was a broadcast reviewing the rise and fall of the faction or something like that, I don't quite remember. But I do remember him suddenly blurting out "Whatever happened to everyone?" before shutting off the television and eating the rest of his cereal. I never did know if he was talking about the other pilots, or if he was directing the question to me, or if he even knew I was standing in the doorway at the time. Besides that one occasion, he stayed his usual optimistic self and pretended as though the whole thing never happened in the first place.

But unfortunately, the fact of the matter still remains that it did happen, and that sooner or later those events would come back to him, and his emotions would surface again. This fateful moment happened during our lunch. I heard the nasal buzz of the doorbell and left Duo and his sandwich to answer the door. And of all the people to stand on the doorstep, he was the last one I was expecting to see.

"Duo? Duo, it's for you."

I heard Duo's shoes pounding down the hallway and he slid into position beside me. He gave me a hesitant sesame-seed smile before reopening the slightly ajar door. And I stood by his side, as Duo's expression transformed from that of anxiety to astonishment, flashing a hint of anger, before finally settling on excitement.

"Heero," he managed to croak out. "What a surprise. Would you like to come in?"

He mumbled yes, and with a quick nod to acknowledge me, he stepped into the living room. I watched as Duo ran off with him, talking a mile a minute, and only pausing to listen for Heero's one word responses before bombarding him with another ten questions. I stood still by the opened door, wondering where Duo got all that spunk all of a sudden, and more importantly, why of all the people, Heero Yuy was the one to come see him. But it became quite apparent from their reunion that I was not to be a part of it, and if I were to dig for the truth, it would probably do more harm than good. So with a heavy sigh, I pushed the door shut and left for the kitchen to finish the rest of my lunch alone.

Liked it? Don't worry, the next chapters will be more exciting and less predictable. I have a few twists up my sleeve. In the meantime, I would love it if you would leave me a note telling me what you think. Who knows, perhaps you'll see an amazingly long review from me awaiting you in the not-so-distant future.

-Sicilienne