The Storm 1/3
Sequel to "In the Rain"
Story 2 in "Chasing Down the Moon"
Rating: Pg
Series: Gundam Wing
Genre: General
Pairings: 1+2+1
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Pissy Duo, mild language, budding shounen ai
By Moon Faery
Disclaimer: A statement created solely to save one's ass from becoming lawn
for the proverbial legal mower. I do not own Gundam Wing, nor does anyone I
know own it. However, this story line and plot are MINE, and so is Ms.
Crevil. (Holds fic close to her.) Grrrr....
Author Notes: For those of you who read 'In the Rain', Good For You! ^-^
You wont have to read it to understand what's going on in this. You'll
notice that there's theme going on with the weather. What can I say? I like
rainy nights.
Anyone up for me making this a trilogy or a miniArc?
***
Duo watched Heero from under lowered bangs, scribbling randomly on
his notebook as the teacher droned on about physics and gravity forces. His
eyes followed the neat, concise movement of Heero's slightly bronzed, long
fingers as they wrote down the teacher's every word.
It had been three whole days since that time that they had spent
together in the storm, and Duo was beginning to unravel. They had sat up
all night, watching the sunrise through a clearing sky before returning to
their dorm. Duo hoped that Heero might have warmed up to him a little to
him, since he hadn't seemed bothered by their closeness when they had been
surrounded by pouring rain and lightning. Unfortunately for him, however,
Heero had become even more distant. It was almost as if he were avoiding
him.
"Mr. Maxwell!"
"Yes?" Duo looked up and smiled attentively, only just beginning to
notice the other students vacating the classroom eagerly.
"Were you even paying attention?" Ms. Crevil asked gently, absently
sticking a pencil into her gray-streaked French-twist, joining many others.
"Of course I was, Ma'am," Duo answered easily, conveniently
forgetting to mention exactly what it was he'd been paying attention to.
"Then why are you still here after the lunch bell?" The teacher sat
on her desk and smiled amusedly at him. Her hazel eyes slid to Heero's
retreating back for a moment, and her smile grew a little wider. Duo found
himself blushing.
"Um, no reason," he stuttered. "I'll go get lunch now." Grabbing his
books, he ran out the door in a flash of braid.
Ms. Crevil shook her head at his antics. "Ah, young love." She
blinked, looking down at her hand. "Now where did that pencil go?"
***
Heero sat in a corner of the lunch room, text book in hand, not
eating. He had long since decided that the odds of starvation were
significantly less than those of food poisoning or genetic mutation. Not
everyone had come to the same conclusion, though. In his direct line of
sight, on the far side of the room, sat one Duo Maxwell, munching on some
fries.
Contrary to what one might think from the way he acted, Duo actually
ate very little. Heero sometimes found himself wondering how Duo managed to
survive with so little food. He did have a bad habit of storing non-
perishable food items in the oddest places. More than one, Heero had leaned
against a wall, only to have it give out under his weight to reveal a stash
of energy bars.
"Hey, Heero!" his partner called loudly, waving an arm. "Get over
here!"
Heero just glanced up from his text and shook his head once before
returning to pretending to study, knowing very well that Duo could see him.
The other boy pouted adorably, but returned to the dubious items on his
tray called 'Tuna Surprise'. No one wanted to know the surprise. No one but
Duo.
Since the incident in the rain, Heero had found himself watching his
partner more often. That single night had convinced him that he didn't know
nearly as much as he would have liked to about Duo. It bothered him, like
an itch he couldn't reach. So he stood back and observed the pilot of
Deathscythe, removing himself from the immediacy of life with Duo. What he
found only confused him, and made him want to know more.
He had noticed that Duo never made a noise when moving, except when
it was a complete accident or intentional. Similarly, he tended to hug
walls whenever possible. There was a small, inexpensive case of lock picks
that he kept in his shoe and another set that was in his hair. They
received more attention than Heero's laptop did. Both looked old and worn,
but the former thief religiously polished them once a week or more, and
Heero had yet to understand why.
Another thing that had been dutifully noted by the pilot of Wing was
the blueberry scented shampoo and conditioner used every second or third
day in a half-hour long ritual of showering. It was an inexpensive brand
that came in extremely large quantities, which explained it's use. What it
didn't explain was the matching soap. What stuck in Heero's mind was the
odd, almost flowery fragrance that joined the blueberry when it dried. The
change in odor was probably due to the cheapness of the items, but seemed
to fit Duo well. Heero could locate his partner in a dark, abandoned
building by that scent alone.
It was the little things that he found himself paying the most
attention to. The way he tossed his braid, or the color his eyes turned
when studying history. Even the way Duo tilted his chin when cleaning his
gun made shivers run down Heero's spine. The well trained assassin in him
told him that becoming too curious about anyone was not a good idea, and
likely to get him killed. He ignored it. Somehow, discovering what made Duo
Maxwell who he was had developed into the most important thing in his life.
And Heero had too few important things in his life to let go of this one.
***
Paper was strewn across the floor and both of their beds when Heero
returned from his last class. On the bed, Duo was diligently scribbling on
another piece of paper, chewing on the end of his braid carefully. Beside
him a Colt was laid out on the comforter, ready to be loaded. A large
supply of spare ammunition was already out.
Duo didn't even bother to meet Heero's eyes as he checked his gun and
loaded it, slipping the light weight weapon in his ankle holster. Heero
didn't doubt that he had already stored several others. "Mission," the boy
who called himself Death commented briefly, slipping some small slivers of
wire into his braid in place of the much-cherished set that was usually
there.
Heero's eyebrows twitched; it was sooner than he had been expecting.
"Mission statement?"
A delicate chin jerked at a particular pile of information. "Arrived
airmail," he explained. "We're supposed to burn it. Immediate evacuation of
the area for this one." He went back to studying whatever it was he was
looking at so intently, avoiding Heero's questioning gaze.
The sapphire eyed boy cast a tiny glare in the braided one's
direction, but moved to pick up the mission statement. It was a simple get
in-go boom-get out job, on a fairly insignificant base. They were to leak
some of OZ's less people friendly projects to the United Earth Press, but
that was all that out of the ordinary.
"They need both of us for this?" Heero snorted in derision. "Even you
could pull this one off alone," he grumbled sourly, dropping the stack in a
neat pile on the desk.
For the first time since lunch, Duo looked directly at him. His eyes
were cold and hard, a small swirl of hurt tinting his eyes bluer than their
normal dark purplish-blue that reminded Heero of a storm at twilight, just
before it rained. "It's what we do," he told his partner harshly. "So stop
bitching and dig out that monster you call a laptop and get to work on
covering out tails."
Heero, who had already been on his way to the computer, hesitated
midstride. He half-turned to look at the boy on the bed, who was watching
him from under his fringe of bangs. "Duo, what's wrong?"
The dark eyes that Heero couldn't seem to classify as a single solid
color slid away from his own, looking fixedly at Heero's left eyebrow.
"It's nothing."
Heero stared at him silently, eyes lidded and face calm. Finally, he
turned to the laptop and began to type, fingers blurring over the keyboard.
When that was done, he changed into his usual spandex and tank top and
headed towards the door. He paused.
"I'm going to the office to wipe our records," Heero explained
quietly, hand resting on the door knob. He glanced at Duo, who was still
working on whatever it was, waiting for a reply.
"Hn." The slight shoulders trembled a little at the grunt, but
otherwise Duo made no move.
"Duo?"
"What?"
"Don't lie to me again." The door closed as Heero ghosted out into
the darkened halls.
Tears glimmered in the corner of Duo's eyes as he looked up in time
to see a vanishing green-clad back.
***
The mission went smoothly. Duo placed the explosives while Heero
hacked the system. It didn't even require the Gundams to accomplish, and
the sole OZ casualties (pre-blast) were a pair of guards that chose the
wrong moment to turn a corner. They were a good mile out into the country
when the explosions went off, illuminating the bottom of the incoming
clouds. The sound echoed off the sky, crashing like lightning. By the time
the fires had been put out, the quarter moon was brightening the tops of
the trees as they sped along on motorcycles, vanishing into the shadows.
***
Sequel to "In the Rain"
Story 2 in "Chasing Down the Moon"
Rating: Pg
Series: Gundam Wing
Genre: General
Pairings: 1+2+1
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Pissy Duo, mild language, budding shounen ai
By Moon Faery
Disclaimer: A statement created solely to save one's ass from becoming lawn
for the proverbial legal mower. I do not own Gundam Wing, nor does anyone I
know own it. However, this story line and plot are MINE, and so is Ms.
Crevil. (Holds fic close to her.) Grrrr....
Author Notes: For those of you who read 'In the Rain', Good For You! ^-^
You wont have to read it to understand what's going on in this. You'll
notice that there's theme going on with the weather. What can I say? I like
rainy nights.
Anyone up for me making this a trilogy or a miniArc?
***
Duo watched Heero from under lowered bangs, scribbling randomly on
his notebook as the teacher droned on about physics and gravity forces. His
eyes followed the neat, concise movement of Heero's slightly bronzed, long
fingers as they wrote down the teacher's every word.
It had been three whole days since that time that they had spent
together in the storm, and Duo was beginning to unravel. They had sat up
all night, watching the sunrise through a clearing sky before returning to
their dorm. Duo hoped that Heero might have warmed up to him a little to
him, since he hadn't seemed bothered by their closeness when they had been
surrounded by pouring rain and lightning. Unfortunately for him, however,
Heero had become even more distant. It was almost as if he were avoiding
him.
"Mr. Maxwell!"
"Yes?" Duo looked up and smiled attentively, only just beginning to
notice the other students vacating the classroom eagerly.
"Were you even paying attention?" Ms. Crevil asked gently, absently
sticking a pencil into her gray-streaked French-twist, joining many others.
"Of course I was, Ma'am," Duo answered easily, conveniently
forgetting to mention exactly what it was he'd been paying attention to.
"Then why are you still here after the lunch bell?" The teacher sat
on her desk and smiled amusedly at him. Her hazel eyes slid to Heero's
retreating back for a moment, and her smile grew a little wider. Duo found
himself blushing.
"Um, no reason," he stuttered. "I'll go get lunch now." Grabbing his
books, he ran out the door in a flash of braid.
Ms. Crevil shook her head at his antics. "Ah, young love." She
blinked, looking down at her hand. "Now where did that pencil go?"
***
Heero sat in a corner of the lunch room, text book in hand, not
eating. He had long since decided that the odds of starvation were
significantly less than those of food poisoning or genetic mutation. Not
everyone had come to the same conclusion, though. In his direct line of
sight, on the far side of the room, sat one Duo Maxwell, munching on some
fries.
Contrary to what one might think from the way he acted, Duo actually
ate very little. Heero sometimes found himself wondering how Duo managed to
survive with so little food. He did have a bad habit of storing non-
perishable food items in the oddest places. More than one, Heero had leaned
against a wall, only to have it give out under his weight to reveal a stash
of energy bars.
"Hey, Heero!" his partner called loudly, waving an arm. "Get over
here!"
Heero just glanced up from his text and shook his head once before
returning to pretending to study, knowing very well that Duo could see him.
The other boy pouted adorably, but returned to the dubious items on his
tray called 'Tuna Surprise'. No one wanted to know the surprise. No one but
Duo.
Since the incident in the rain, Heero had found himself watching his
partner more often. That single night had convinced him that he didn't know
nearly as much as he would have liked to about Duo. It bothered him, like
an itch he couldn't reach. So he stood back and observed the pilot of
Deathscythe, removing himself from the immediacy of life with Duo. What he
found only confused him, and made him want to know more.
He had noticed that Duo never made a noise when moving, except when
it was a complete accident or intentional. Similarly, he tended to hug
walls whenever possible. There was a small, inexpensive case of lock picks
that he kept in his shoe and another set that was in his hair. They
received more attention than Heero's laptop did. Both looked old and worn,
but the former thief religiously polished them once a week or more, and
Heero had yet to understand why.
Another thing that had been dutifully noted by the pilot of Wing was
the blueberry scented shampoo and conditioner used every second or third
day in a half-hour long ritual of showering. It was an inexpensive brand
that came in extremely large quantities, which explained it's use. What it
didn't explain was the matching soap. What stuck in Heero's mind was the
odd, almost flowery fragrance that joined the blueberry when it dried. The
change in odor was probably due to the cheapness of the items, but seemed
to fit Duo well. Heero could locate his partner in a dark, abandoned
building by that scent alone.
It was the little things that he found himself paying the most
attention to. The way he tossed his braid, or the color his eyes turned
when studying history. Even the way Duo tilted his chin when cleaning his
gun made shivers run down Heero's spine. The well trained assassin in him
told him that becoming too curious about anyone was not a good idea, and
likely to get him killed. He ignored it. Somehow, discovering what made Duo
Maxwell who he was had developed into the most important thing in his life.
And Heero had too few important things in his life to let go of this one.
***
Paper was strewn across the floor and both of their beds when Heero
returned from his last class. On the bed, Duo was diligently scribbling on
another piece of paper, chewing on the end of his braid carefully. Beside
him a Colt was laid out on the comforter, ready to be loaded. A large
supply of spare ammunition was already out.
Duo didn't even bother to meet Heero's eyes as he checked his gun and
loaded it, slipping the light weight weapon in his ankle holster. Heero
didn't doubt that he had already stored several others. "Mission," the boy
who called himself Death commented briefly, slipping some small slivers of
wire into his braid in place of the much-cherished set that was usually
there.
Heero's eyebrows twitched; it was sooner than he had been expecting.
"Mission statement?"
A delicate chin jerked at a particular pile of information. "Arrived
airmail," he explained. "We're supposed to burn it. Immediate evacuation of
the area for this one." He went back to studying whatever it was he was
looking at so intently, avoiding Heero's questioning gaze.
The sapphire eyed boy cast a tiny glare in the braided one's
direction, but moved to pick up the mission statement. It was a simple get
in-go boom-get out job, on a fairly insignificant base. They were to leak
some of OZ's less people friendly projects to the United Earth Press, but
that was all that out of the ordinary.
"They need both of us for this?" Heero snorted in derision. "Even you
could pull this one off alone," he grumbled sourly, dropping the stack in a
neat pile on the desk.
For the first time since lunch, Duo looked directly at him. His eyes
were cold and hard, a small swirl of hurt tinting his eyes bluer than their
normal dark purplish-blue that reminded Heero of a storm at twilight, just
before it rained. "It's what we do," he told his partner harshly. "So stop
bitching and dig out that monster you call a laptop and get to work on
covering out tails."
Heero, who had already been on his way to the computer, hesitated
midstride. He half-turned to look at the boy on the bed, who was watching
him from under his fringe of bangs. "Duo, what's wrong?"
The dark eyes that Heero couldn't seem to classify as a single solid
color slid away from his own, looking fixedly at Heero's left eyebrow.
"It's nothing."
Heero stared at him silently, eyes lidded and face calm. Finally, he
turned to the laptop and began to type, fingers blurring over the keyboard.
When that was done, he changed into his usual spandex and tank top and
headed towards the door. He paused.
"I'm going to the office to wipe our records," Heero explained
quietly, hand resting on the door knob. He glanced at Duo, who was still
working on whatever it was, waiting for a reply.
"Hn." The slight shoulders trembled a little at the grunt, but
otherwise Duo made no move.
"Duo?"
"What?"
"Don't lie to me again." The door closed as Heero ghosted out into
the darkened halls.
Tears glimmered in the corner of Duo's eyes as he looked up in time
to see a vanishing green-clad back.
***
The mission went smoothly. Duo placed the explosives while Heero
hacked the system. It didn't even require the Gundams to accomplish, and
the sole OZ casualties (pre-blast) were a pair of guards that chose the
wrong moment to turn a corner. They were a good mile out into the country
when the explosions went off, illuminating the bottom of the incoming
clouds. The sound echoed off the sky, crashing like lightning. By the time
the fires had been put out, the quarter moon was brightening the tops of
the trees as they sped along on motorcycles, vanishing into the shadows.
***
