CAUGHT BETWEEN THE BANISTER
Part Five: Missing
Disclaimer: don't own them. Don't want them. Don't need them. I'll tell you if anything changes, but don't hold your breath. Wouldn't want you to pass out or anything now, would we?
Warnings/Rating: Not much here to speak of. Maybe one or two hints of yaoi or shonen ai, if you're lucky. This part is rated PG for a few four-letter words. That's all.
---
When Mike and I got back to the apartment, we didn't really feel like doing much of anything. He was stuffed from the popcorn and such he'd eaten at the movies and I was just feeling pretty lethargic. It had been a long day, and having Wufei rush off probably hadn't helped. I guess the shock of realizing that Wufei had grown up since our days back in the war and left me all alone to fend for myself was a bit too much for me, you know? It's weird how things you've known all along can suddenly hit you right between the eyes like that...
Anyway, once we got back we unanimously agreed that it was bedtime. I helped Mike through his little rituals, digging around the cabinets for a new tube of toothpaste when he discovered he was out of his tasty kind, and then put him to bed. I stayed up for a little while longer after that, staring at the wall and trying to read the newspaper, but I quickly gave up all pretense of wanting to stay awake. Turning off the lights in the kitchen and making sure the door was locked, I retired to Heero's room and collapsed in the bed. This time around, I didn't care what the place smelled like or reminded me of. All I wanted to do was sleep.
So I did. And I didn't wake up until eight o'clock the next morning, feeling a lot better and a little more refreshed. I listened for Mike while I was stretching and scratching and didn't hear anything at all. He was probably still snoozing the day away. It had been a long day for him too, after all, and he had been pretty worn out last night. I was personally amazed that such a little kid could handle so much activity!
I pressed an ear to Mike's bedroom door, wondering if he was moving around yet, but I didn't hear anything, so I assumed he was still sleeping. After picking up some clothes out of my bag, I headed to the bathroom to take a shower and go about my business. I probably took more time than was really necessary, but I didn't care. The water felt nice and it wasn't exactly like I was the one who had to pay the water bill. I used some of Heero's shampoo, just out of spite, and that made me grin.
Mike still wasn't out of his room when I got out of the bathroom, so I ran up the stairs to my own apartment to see if Wufei had left a message on my answering machine or anything. He hadn't, although my landlord had left an ill-spoken threat for me. I deleted it without even listening to it. After that, I went back downstairs. I passed one of my neighbors on the way and almost knocked her over by accident. The cranky old bird shot me the finger. Bitch.
Lounging on the couch, I turned the television on low and watched the news for a bit. I never used to do that when I was younger--most kids and teenagers don't--but someone had gotten me into the habit. There wasn't much going on in the universe that day. A peace summit meeting was going on at some backwater colony, the location and name of which remained undisclosed. A homosexual rights march had turned a bit violent back on Earth. A woman on the Moon gave birth to a kid with three arms. Nothing too unusual, you know? After the news came on, I watched an old rerun of some classic television show that no one remembers anymore. It was in black and white and the dialog was pretty corny, but I was grateful that it wasn't Bulbo and Mindy so I watched it anyway.
When eleven o'clock rolled around, I started to get a little concerned about Mike. All right, all right, a lot a bit worried. Little kids are usually up really early, right? So why hadn't I seen hide nor hair of Mike since last night?
Getting up off of the couch, I knocked on the door of Mike's bedroom. "Hey, kiddo? You awake yet?" When I didn't get an answer, I did what any normal person would do. I knocked louder. "Mike?" There was still no answer, so I tried the handle, but it didn't move. The door was locked. Fuck. What would a five year-old be doing that he wanted to lock the door of his room for? A few thoughts came to mind, but I decided he was too young for any of them.
Where the hell did Heero keep his spare keys?
After looking frantically through some of the most obvious places I could think of, I finally found the key to the bedroom in a drawer by the front door. I must have dropped it six or seven times just trying to unlock the door; the idea of what I would find in that room--or worse, what I wouldn't find in that room--had me shaking uncontrollably. Countless possibilities were going through my mind and I didn't like any of them. What can I say? I've got a really vivid and detailed imagination.
The door creaked when I finally managed to unlock it and push it open. "Mike?" I called out quietly as I stepped into the room. His bed was empty and it was neat, as though no one had even slept in it. But I'd put Mike to bed yesterday and tucked him in and the whole spiel last night--hadn't I? I was positive that I had. I called out his name again, praying to God the Almighty that this wasn't really happening, that Mike was playing some sort of game and that he'd jump out to scare me at any moment. I mean, Christ, where could he go? There wasn't a window or anything in the room, just the door!
"Mike, this isn't funny," I said, searching the closet and under the bed and the corners and everywhere he could possibly be hiding. I somehow broke the fire-engine nightlight in the process. Once I'd destroyed the rest of the room, I started searching every inch of the apartment. It took me an hour and a half of looking for the kid to see the little black box lying on the kitchen table and when I did see it I was almost afraid to find out what it was. Picking it up carefully, I turned it around in my hands, examining it, only to discover that it was voice recorder, like the ones reporters used to have back in the pre-colony days. I checked to see if it was rewound (it was) and then pressed the 'play' button, hoping the stupid thing would have the answers I was looking for. The first things I heard were static and general everyday noises like 'thud', which almost made me give up. And then Mike's voice came on.
"Hello? Is this working right? I hope so, because I can't write a note if it doesn't 'cuz I don't know how. And I don't have a cell phone or anything and that wouldn't help anyway because I can't remember the apartment number. So this had better work.
"Duo, you don't have to worry 'bout me! The movie we saw yesterday with Wufei gave me a really good idea and so I'm going to leave until you promise to make up with my dad. Or until he makes up with you. I don't care, so long as you guys start being friends again. I took the pizza money that he left us so I can buy food if I've got to and I made myself a peanut-butter sandwich. I brought some of my toys so I don't get bored and you can tell my dad that I did remember my toothbrush and stuff so he won't get mad because my teeth are getting gross and are going to fall out. And I've got more clothes in case it gets cold and extra socks. It's all in my backpack with Bulbo on it, too.
"I'm sorry I locked the door in my bedroom, but I figgered you would look there first thing, so I had to make sure it would take you a little while to open it, in case you wake up right after I'm gone or something. I don't think you will because you were snoring pretty good when I looked in, but it was just in case, you know? I hope you didn't break my door, though, because I liked that door. I don't know if you know where the keys are at."
If this kid lived through the wrath of the world, I was going to kill him. The message continued.
"Don't forget to call my dad because he might not get home for a few days unless you call him and I don't think my sandwich is going to last for more than a day or two. He probably won't like it when you call him but he'll be glad you did later on, I think. And I think you'll both be happy later, when you start being friends again. I've got my walkie-talkie for when you guys make up and stuff, so you can tell me when you're good friends again. The other walkie-talkie is in the closet with my toy cars. Bye!"
The thing clicked off a little while later and I threw it on the floor, cursing incoherently at it. Fuck! Where did this kid get these ideas, anyway? The movie? Hell, he was never going to see a movie ever again if I had anything to say about it!
I did feel a little better, though, knowing that Mike hadn't been kidnapped or anything like that, but not by a whole lot. There was still one vital fact remaining: Mike was all alone on a colony where kids weren't exactly welcomed with open arms and there was no way I could get a hold of him except via walkie-talkie. I did check to see if I could actually get through to him through that stupid toy, but I suppose he was too far away and the signal was too weak. The fact that I had no idea how to work the thing didn't help. There was really only one thing I could do now. Sighing miserably to myself, I crossed the room to pick up the phone and dialed Wufei's office number from memory.
What, you thought I was going to pick up the phone and call Heero? Get real. At the time, I wouldn't have called him if the apartment went up in flames. Sure, a missing son was pretty fucking important, but I was going to try my damnedest to get Mike back without letting Heero know that I'd failed as a babysitter. After all, it was a small colony and there weren't a lot of kids. He would be easy to find, right?
Someone picked up the phone on the first ring. "Preventer Headquarters."
I paused. "You aren't Wufei," I observed brilliantly. Noticing my surprise, the other person laughed and I couldn't help but smile.
"Congratulations, you get an A for the day! His Excellency the dragon master is off on fraternity leave or something; his wife's in labor. I'm filling in for the day. Do you want to leave a message or anything?"
"You guys still call him the dragon master? Damn, I'm impressed that it's lasted so long. Well, listen, this is Duo Maxwell. I used to work with you guys. Who is this?"
"Officer Cathleen Dillon. I remember you--short guy with the long braid, right? Used to jump up on desks and scream at the ceiling fans when they got too loud?"
"Not quite so short anymore, but yeah, that would be me. Look, Cat, I need to talk to Wufei. It's really important--can you put me through to his cell phone or something? Page him? Anything?"
"I'm not sure; he gave instructions that he wasn't to be bothered, so he probably turned off his phone and pager. If so, I won't be able to reach him."
"Fuck." I thought a minute. "How about the hospital phone? Can you put me through to them and have them find Wufei?"
"That," she said, "I can do. Hang on for a minute while I connect to the hospital." The phone clicked and I drummed my fingers on the countertop as I listened to the corny holding music that was playing. It took almost two full minutes for someone to pick up and, luckily, it was Wufei.
"What do you want, Maxwell?" He sounded annoyed, anxious, and tired. I guess I couldn't blame him for that one; his wife was having a kid and he had been pulled away from her to take a phone call. I would have been pissed too.
"Wu-bear, hypothetical situation. If you were a five-year-old boy who wanted to force his babysitter and his father to make up and be friends again, where would you go? Given that you were really smart and that you lived, say... on my colony."
Wufei paused. "You lost Mike, didn't you?"
"I didn't lose anybody! I told you, it's a hypothetical situation!"
"All right. Hypothetically, then, have you called this hypothetical young boy's father? Or the local police?"
"No. To both of those."
"Then you should do that first."
I frowned. I'd had some awful run-ins with the police before, especially when I was little, but I still couldn't figure out why that hadn't occurred to me before. "All right, I'll call the cops and see if they can help find him, but I'm not calling his father! Or I wouldn't if this was actually happening. It's all just hypothetical, you remember. Really."
"Well then," Wufei said with a sigh, "I would say, hypothetically that you were being stupid about letting a petty argument get involved with something as important as a lost child. Call Heero and tell him what happened. It's his son, after all, and he deserves to know. And he may be able to tell you where to look for the boy."
"Hypothetically, then, I would tell you to go fuck yourself."
Wufei laughed. "I bet you say that to all the cute boys you meet. Now stop wasting time and get to work finding that boy!"
"Whatever. Hypothetically, Wufei, if you lost a five-year old kid and couldn't stand the idea of talking to his father, what would you do?"
"The right thing. Good luck Duo." He hung up, leaving me with a dial tone. Sighing, I dialed another number.
Two rings this time. "Colony V13B Police Department, twenty-seventh precinct," a woman said. I relaxed; she sounded friendly enough.
"Yeah, hi. Um... I'd like to report a missing person."
You're giving me a funny look. What, you don't think I was panicked enough? I sounded a lot calmer than I felt, trust me on that. Besides, I don't remember exactly what I said to her, so chances are that I fumbled my words and started ranting and raving like a psycho. Just because I'm good with details doesn't mean I've got a mind like a bear trap.
The woman spoke again. "All right. Hang on and I'll transfer your call over to our missing person department." The phone clicked and the woman suddenly turned into a computer, babbling the same thing over and over again. "Your call is important to us. Please hold. Your call is important to us. Please hold." I guess even the repetition was better that the cheesy canned music the Preventers had used, but not by a whole lot.
It took almost ten minutes, but someone did finally cut the machine voice off in mid-sentence to pick up the phone. "Missing persons," the man said. Unlike the woman who had answered the phone before, this guy didn't sound friendly at all. Just sort of bored, as though he didn't think this was worth his time. Great. Just my luck.
"I'm looking for a boy, about five years-old and he's--"
"A boy? As in a little kid?" the man asked, interrupting me.
"Uh... Yeah. Five year-olds usually count as little kids. He's got blond hair and--"
"A real live little kid?"
This guy was making interrupting me in mid sentence a bad habit. I frowned. "As opposed to the alternative, yeah, I sure hope so. He's got blue eyes and he's sort of short and--"
"Is this a joke?"
Forget a bad habit, this guy had made interruption into an art form. "Why the hell would I joke about a missing kid?" I asked, appalled.
The man snorted and I could picture the scene clearly: he would have his feet up on the desk with his paunch in the air and he'd be waving around a coffee cup or a donut as he spoke. "No one around this colony has kids, buddy, and if they do then they keep closer tabs on them than they do on themselves. These kids are kept under lock and key. We have never had a case where a missing person was younger than seventeen."
I scowled. "There's a first time for everything, then, isn't there? You can mark this day on the calendar and throw a party once a year. With cake and beer, to make you lot happy. Now look, the kid's name is Michael, he's five years old, and I have no idea where the hell he is. Are you going to help me or not?"
There was a pause on the other end; I think the guy was momentarily stunned. "You're serious?"
"What else was I supposed to be, exactly?"
"Well then, we'll need to take your name and address and see some recent photos of the boy. Then we'll need to..."
I was on the phone with this guy for almost half an hour, working out the details, exchanging information, and occasionally fudging the facts. When the conversation finally ended, though, I felt worse than I had before I called. Two or three years ago, if this had happened, I probably wouldn't have cared! It wasn't my kid--hell, he was the child of my archenemy!--and I would have been too busy worrying about my own problems to care. (The fact that I would have been drunk and singing bawdy songs about wheelbarrows also didn't escape me.) But that wasn't the case now. I'd grown attached to Mike; hell, I cared about the kid, in my own stupid way! And, when the policeman had asked me about my relation to Mike, I'd told him I was the midget's uncle. I'd also given them my address, not Heero's, which was probably good since the next question had been about my landlord's telephone number. No matter how much of a bastard Heero was, he shouldn't be kicked out of his apartment just because I'd been irresponsible and hadn't been doing my job. Not even he deserved that.
Christ, this was all my fault.
Feeling worse than I had in a long time, I picked up the list of phone numbers Heero had left with me just a few days ago and went upstairs, to my apartment, to wait for the police to arrive. Once I was up there, I dialed the number to Heero's portable phone and waited. No one answered, but his voice mail did click on after a moment or two. I guess he'd turned off the phone and was taking messages instead. I was glad for that, at least; I don't think I would have been able to tell Heero what had happened face-to-face without breaking down. As it was, I took a minute to collect myself and then left my message.
"Hey, Heero. Shit, I really hope you check your voice mail regularly… Um, no one's dead and nothing's exploded, so I guess I'm not really supposed to be calling you or anything, but I figured you might want to get a call anyway. No one's dead," I repeated, silently adding an 'I hope' to the end of that, "but there's been a bit of a problem. You're going to want to come back as soon as possible, though--Mike's gone. Seriously. Sorry to bother you, but I figured you'd want to know. I'll give you details when you get here--I'll be in my apartment. It's on the floor above yours--4D. That's all." I hung up quickly, mentally slapping myself. Why was it that everything seemed to happen to me?
No, I do not think I'm being self-centered! If I weren't acting like I was, then this wouldn't be much of a story, would it? So just shut up and let me wallow in my pity, okay?
Anyway, now that I'd made all of the necessary phone calls, the only thing left for me to do was wait for the police to show up at the doorstep. Of course, at this point it dawned on my that I didn't have any pictures of Mike handy, so I bolted back down the stairs, nearly knocking over another old lady who lived on my floor (she cursed and called me a mother-fucking punk) and started looking around Heero's apartment for a picture of the midget. The only one I found was in one of Heero's desk drawers, carefully framed and hidden from sight. He had obviously prepared for a very thorough investigation of some sort. I guess that's what you get for being the nearly-perfect soldier for years on end.
Seizing the picture, I went back to my own apartment to wait for the police like I was supposed to do. They showed up after a bit and gave me the third degree about where Michael may have gone and why he left in the first place. I was super-careful about my answers and didn't say a word about Heero. I guess it was all logical enough because after awhile I could tell that they actually believed that a five-year-old was missing and were ready to get to work.
After they left, taking the picture with them, I decided to conduct my own search, however brief it may have been. It took me awhile, but I eventually found my way to the park again and tried looking around, even digging through the sand box in the hopes that he had buried himself in there for some reason. I checked every nook and cranny in the whole area, looking for any place that was big enough to fit a small child--and some places that even Mike never would have been able to fit in. But it was all in vain; I didn't find even a trace of him. Disheartened, I returned to my apartment to wait some more.
It was nearly four hours later that my phone rang. I raced over to pick up the receiver, praying that it was the police--or, better yet, Mike--but my hopes were quickly dashed when my landlord's face popped up on the video screen. He didn't look happy.
"Duo Maxwell!" he bellowed when I answered.
"Hi, Benny." In my head, I was cursing like a monkey on speed, but I forced myself to at least try and smile. "What's up?"
"I'll tell you what's up. Guess what interesting tidbit of information I just learned today, Mister Maxwell?" he drawled, narrowing his eyes at me. I really hate talking to Benny over the videophone; he has a look that really gets to me. His dark eyes scrunch up and his nostrils flare a bit, and his eyebrows come together. It's his "you are in seriously deep shit" look and I tend to be on the wrong end of it a little too often for comfort.
"All right, I'll guess. A goldfish has an attention span of three seconds," I tried half-heartedly. "Was that it?"
Benny blinked, letting that sink in, and then he scowled. "Whether or not that's true," he said, "that wasn't it. No, I learned that you have a little boy living with you, but that can't possibly be right. You see, Mister Maxwell, that apartment complex doesn't allow you to keep children. So what explanation do you have for me?"
"For the kid? Well, it's a long story. You see, I bought him from a local dealer and I was really only saving him so I could make a decent stew, you know? So he wasn't going to be around long anyway. But I had to let him live in the apartment a little while because they're kind of chewy at that age and I didn't want to have to tenderize the meat too much. But kids that age don't refrigerate well and--"
"Mister Maxwell!!!" roared Benny. He obviously didn't appreciate my attempt at cannibalistic humor. "May we please be serious about this? You have violated one of the complex's major rules, and that cannot go unpunished! What are you planning to do with the boy?"
I let the whole saving-him-for-later idea drop. "Nothing. I was just letting him hang around for a couple of days. That's all."
"I was told that you are the boy's uncle."
"That's right."
Benny pursed his lips irritably. "Your resident's profile says that you don't, to your knowledge, have any siblings. Where are his parents and what relation are they to you?"
"I'm more like the kid's godfather, really. I'm a good friend of the family; you know how that sort of thing works, right?" It wasn't a lie, not really. I had been a friend of Heero's, a very long time ago, and if Heero and I had never fought as we had, I damn well may have ended up being Mike's godfather or something. Provided Heero had still left the group, met Stacey, and had a kid.
"And where are his parents?"
I smiled weakly. I couldn't joke my way around this one. "Well, his mom is in some sort of mental institution, I think, or she's pretty damn close to moving into one. And his dad is away on a business trip somewhere. With a lot of guns with him."
Benny ignored that; he obviously thought I was only fucking around with him. "Also, you're two months behind on your rent. When do you actually intend to pay?"
Actually, I was three months behind on my rent, but I decided not to correct him on that one. "Well, you see, I'm currently a little bit unemployed, so cash is a bit--"
"You're unemployed again? Mister Maxwell, this is the fourth time this year!"
Actually, it was the sixth time this year. But, again, I decided that it would be wiser just to let it go. "It's not as if I can--"
"Do you realize," he interrupted, "that I have every right to come over and throw your scrawny ass out onto the street at this very moment?"
"I do now." My heart sank. This couldn't be good; Benny's scowl was getting worse by the second and his eyes did not look at all friendly.
"But I'm a nice man, Mister Maxwell. I wouldn't throw a man out of his home just like that."
"Good. I'm glad. Seriously."
"I prefer to let them pack first. It saves me from having to deal with those complications later on. You have one week--that's seven days, Mister Maxwell--to vacate the premises. If you and your nephew haven't moved out by then, I'll be forced to take legal action. Goodbye." Benny hung up then, leaving me to stare at the blank screen of the videophone with a look of unadulterated horror plastered over my face.
After a very long silence, I started to curse at the telephone. And it was during an extremely creative and effective string of curses that I heard someone behind me clear their throat. I froze.
"Who's there, how'd you get in, and how long have you been listening?"
"It's me," the voice said coldly. "You left the door unlocked, and I've been here ever since you went from a catatonic state to an expletive marathon in less than two seconds flat. What's going on here?"
I turned around and grinned sheepishly. "You caught me at a bad time, Heero. I take it you do check your voice mail after all, then?"
"Yes, in fact, I do. Quite often. So explain exactly what you have done with my son!"
"Yeah, about that. He's sort of not here right now, as you've probably noticed, and no one has any idea where he is." Heero stared at me, either furious or completely dumbfounded, so I continued. "I woke up this morning and he wasn't up yet but I didn't think that was a big deal because he was probably sleeping so I hung out a bit before I went to check up on him but his door was locked so I had to unlock it and he wasn't there so I started looking for him! I found a tape he left behind saying he ran away until you and I got friendly, so I called the cops. Then I left that message for you on your voice mail. That was about five or six hours ago, and the police are looking and they promised to call the second they found something but I've been waiting for hours and I haven't heard anything from them!"
"Breathe," Heero reminded me. Then everything I'd just said hit him. "You lost Michael?" he asked, staring at me as though I'd just grown another head. I nodded, not daring to argue with him. "How could you be so..." He held up a hand, stopping himself, and put his other hand to his forehead as though he had a really bad headache. "No one has any idea where he is?" he asked, sounding considerably calmer than he had only five seconds previously.
"Not yet. But this colony isn't all that big and there's good odds that he's just fine, right?" He didn't answer me. "You aren't mad?" He shot me a look, so I explained myself. "I mean... Well, you aren't yelling or hitting anything and you haven't pulled out a gun and threatened to kill me yet, so..."
"Oh, I'm mad," Heero confirmed. "In fact, I'm furious. But that isn't going to help anyone just yet--I'll resort to violence and yelling after I get my son back." He wasn't joking; I could tell. "Where are the police looking?"
"I told them to start looking at Stacey's place, but I don't think Mike would go there, do you?" He shook his head. "They said they'd scour the colony."
"What about the park on the west vector? Are they going to look there?"
"Yeah, but I already looked, too. Nothing."
"Damn it!" he swore, slamming his fist against the wall. It cracked a little (the wall, not his fist). Then he covered his face with his hands. "How could I have been stupid enough to let this happen?" he asked no one in particular. His voice was muffled and I was tempted to pretend I hadn't heard. But I didn't.
"I'm the one who lost him," I pointed out. I stared out the window for a bit. "If something happens to him, I'll never forgive myself."
I could tell that he really wanted to put all the blame on me, but he couldn't do it, just as I couldn't blame him for this one. Neither of us wanted to shoulder the blame, but who else was there to do it? Mike, perhaps, but he didn't know any better. And five year olds are too cute to blame stuff like that on.
It was actually kind of funny. If you had given me the opportunity to ruin Heero's life a week before, I would have taken it in an instant. But that was before I knew about Mike and before I'd been forced to see Heero again. Now that I really had botched things up, I felt utterly miserable.
Heero started to pace the floor, arms crossed, back and forth in front of me. I looked on cautiously, awaiting the inevitable storm. It never came.
"When the landlord finds out about this..." he began, letting his voice trail off. He stopped pacing for a moment to think about the repercussions that would bring.
"He already found out," I told him. "But you don't have to worry about it--everyone involved right now thinks that Mike is my nephew." I shifted uncomfortably as his gaze fell on me. "Benny's kicking me out, but that's okay. I'll stay over with Wufei and his family; they won't mind and he'll probably welcome the extra pair of hands. Besides, it's about time I got off of this colony. As long as you're twice as careful about Mike, you two should be absolutely fine. For a while, at least."
Heero frowned at me. "Why did you do something as stupid as that? You didn't have to do it."
I shrugged and felt my cheeks grow a little warm with indignation. "It seemed like the right thing to do. That's all."
"It was a foolish thing to do," he said sternly. Then he paused momentarily. "But thank you."
"Yeah." Now that Heero had to admit that this wasn't entirely my fault, my guilt was slowly ebbing away and the old hateful resentment was taking its place. But even that was slightly assuaged by my continuing worry for Mike. Either way, that didn't mean I had to be overly nice to Heero, right?
Right.
There was an uncomfortable silence as Heero continued pacing around the floor. After a while of watching him, I coughed pointedly.
"Look, you wearing holes into my carpet isn't going to get Mike back any sooner. So why don't you go home and get settled in again and let me wait for the call? I swear that I'll let you know when I hear something."
He considered me carefully. I had the feeling he knew my real motive: to get him out so I wouldn't have to talk to him or look at him or anything like that. Wufei's lecture the day before was really starting to get to me; as mad as I was with Heero, it occurred to me that maybe--just maybe--Wufei had made a good point. Perhaps I was letting myself dwell a little too much on the past. And I didn't want to have to stew over that while I was busy ignoring Heero.
"All right," he said finally. "But I had damn well better receive a phone call or a knock on the door the second you hear something."
He let himself out, so I collapsed into a chair and started flipping through the television channels, waiting anxiously for the phone to ring or for someone to knock on my door.
--to be continued--