Disclaimer: My current defence against any corporate lawyers who might decide to beat down my door and present a "cease and desist" order from BanDai is that I've been working on this for a WHOLE YEAR now, and if they even tried to shut me down, they'd have hordes of angry fans swarming all over them and plucking out each and every one of their body hairs, one by one by one. Right guys? *looks expectantly at her readers* ... *crickets chirp* ... =o_o;= *gulp* Uh...right? =D

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Episode Fifty: Cherry Pie

"If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it was, and always will be yours. If it never returns, it was never yours to begin with." ~Unknown

June 12th, 1902

Seven days had come and gone, and not one word from Duo. A letter could have reached London long before then, a telegram would have taken mere hours, or even if he found a well-equipped establishment and asked a favour of the owner, a telephone call promised instantaneous relief, but none of these came. Heero started each day since their parting by reassuring himself that he was needed more at Bridlewood than he was in Ireland, and that leaving Duo there was technically the correct decision, but he never believed himself past breakfast. By now, he should have heard something, he reasoned over and over again. Duo wasn't the sort of thoughtless person who would emigrate indefinitely without saying goodbye. He was supposed to be so much kinder than that.

It wasn't long before Heero was skipping breakfast altogether, to sit in the foyer and wait for the postman in case he happened to be early. Every day he grew more and more disappointed, and the nagging doubts compounded themselves, with interest. Ireland was so clean, so beautiful, and so full of memories that it wasn't difficult to imagine that Duo would prefer it to London. And, of course, there was Helen, a heavenly dream born out of a years-long nightmare; the history Duo must have had with her was difficult to compete with, and to Heero's logical and orderly mind, if Duo chose the more attractive of two homes, it was rational and straightforward, and not to be argued with.

Just considering that possibility had an unfortunate effect on Heero. His sleep was disturbed, his appetite was either out of control or nonexistent, and several times he had seriously considered having a drink for the first time since the hunt ball. Forasmuch as he tried to put on an outwardly show of strength and reliability, he was still dependant on others, as he had always been; first his master, and now Duo.

While Heero struggled with the moral dilemma in which he was firmly mired, he finally spotted the postman coming up the front walk, and was at the door to meet him in a flash. Grabbing the small stack of letters he carried, he ran back inside and practically slammed the door in the man's face in his urgency to see what had arrived. He flipped through the envelopes, putting a mental checkmark beside everything that wasn't his.

Invitation for Relena...quarterly statement from the bank...letter from Bethany's pen pal in New Zealand...bill from the tailor for the new uniforms...junk...more junk... He froze on the last letter, a small beige envelope with his name on it. He dropped the rest and tore it open without stopping to study the handwriting, pulling from it a squarish piece of paper with a single line of writing on it. He read it quickly, realized what it actually was, and wilted.

No...

It wasn't the happy news he was longing to hear. Slowly coming to his senses, he stooped to pick up the rest of the mail and dropped it off on the Chippendale table, next to the telephone. Numb from the neck up, he pocketed his own letter, and went back to his work, appearing strong and reliable, as always.

**********

Something happened on this day that hardly ever happened any other day--the kitchen was empty. Duo was missing, Heero was moping, and Hilde was so over-confident about her abilities that she didn't feel it necessary to spend every moment of her time on food preparation. Nobody else was around, so the conditions were absolutely perfect for a little spy work on the side. With that in mind, Dorothy put on her softest-soled shoes for noise reduction, and padded downstairs to have a look around.

Relena knew the food budget had gotten out of control, but she was too busy worrying about her brother to wonder why. Also, Dorothy knew something that she didn't, that there were unwelcome pests polluting her cellar, and she was determined to get a proper look at them if she was to have any hope of eliminating them from the playing field. She still didn't know how to do away with half a dozen girls without anyone noticing, or even if that was really what she wanted to do, but to avoid needless self-recrimination, she kept her eyes on the prize, Quatre's money. Once she was a billionairess, the law couldn't touch her anyway, she reasoned.

The kitchen looked eerily quiet. Dorothy went from the main staircase past the wooden worktable, constantly looking over her shoulder. She saw no one, heard no one, feared no one. Even if those girls see my face, what can they do about the fact that I've seen them? she thought with a smile. They came here for sanctuary, no doubt, so they can't leave, and there's nobody to complain to who wouldn't make their situation worse. I've got them!

But first, she had to get a look at them, scope out the layout of the room, find ways in and out, count them to be sure, and size them up for potential resistance. Dorothy crept through the doorway to the pantry and scullery, and was only a few steps away from Quatre's bedroom door. Her goal was just within reach.

Unbeknownst to the bumbling baroness, someone was watching, and that someone knew that the girl was not where she was supposed to be. From the farthest corner of the kitchen came a sound, a sound to let Dorothy know that she wouldn't get away with anything while the person watching her was around. From the farthest corner of the kitchen came a bold, strong 'meow.'

Dorothy spun around and gasped, not being able to identify the noise as a cat quicker than her reflexes could react to a human. She took a few steps back towards the kitchen and saw the strange fluffy gray cat that hung around the staff, sitting on the floor in front of the right-hand corner of the stove, staring her down. What's that animal doing here!? Dorothy had always been suspicious of where it came from, and was a little bit jealous of Heero for finding a stray with such glossy eyes and such a luxurious coat as to rival that of her own Anna Maria. Satisfied that she wasn't really in danger of being discovered, she stuck her nose up in the air, turned around, and headed back to Quatre's door.

The little gray cat was smarter than that. Shadow ran a few feet forward until she was safely under the kitchen table and meowed several times in succession, loudly and insistently. Dorothy froze and glared at the cat over her shoulder. "Hush, you!" she whispered angrily.

Again she made for the door. This time Shadow ran to the bottom of the stairs and meowed fervently up at the first floor, and to Dorothy's horror, she got a response. "Shadow, shut up!" Hilde's voice yelled from somewhere near the top of the stairs. "I just fed you an hour ago!"

Shadow and Dorothy looked at each other for several seconds, then Dorothy grinned when it seemed that Hilde wasn't going to bother traipsing all the way downstairs to check on the animal. Ha. Your little scheme didn't work, smarty. Yet again, Dorothy went back to Quatre's door and knelt in front of it, looking for a keyhole. She wasn't terribly practised at picking locks, but she'd seen it done in picture books, and it only seemed to involve sticking hairpins in the right places, and hairpins she had plenty of. Very carefully, she pulled a pin out of the little French twist she'd put in her hair earlier that morning and leaned against the door, preparing to wedge the short barb of metal into the keyhole, when she heard a peculiar scraping noise coming from the kitchen.

Dorothy couldn't fight her own curiosity, and had to turn around and look. Still in a crouching position, she swivelled around on her satin slippers, but couldn't see what was making the odd noise. It sounded like a heavy stone sliding inch by inch across a bigger stone, and she had to get a better look. Returning to the kitchen, she froze again, eyes wide, as she saw just how much trouble she was in.

Since Hilde wouldn't come down unless it was an emergency, Shadow had to make it an emergency. She had jumped up on the kitchen counter, underneath the window, and squeezed in behind the large ceramic flour jar that was only sitting a few inches out from the wall. While Dorothy was trying to figure out how lock picking worked, Shadow had shoved hard against the jar and managed to scoot it all the way to the counter's edge, where it sat precariously with a good two inches of its bottom circumference hanging in mid-air over the slate tile floor. One more shove would do it.

Dorothy cringed and shook her head, waving her hands in front of her as a warning. No! Oh, no!

"Meow," Shadow said, giving her one last chance to leave without doing damage.

"Shhh!" Dorothy hissed, flapping one arm desperately.

Shadow thought about letting her go, but she really wasn't worth it. With one last shove, she sent the flour jar crashing to the floor, creating a huge white dust cloud above the counter's edge and opening a fresh can of worms for Dorothy.

"What's going on down there!?" Hilde shrieked, clomping down the stairs holding up great handfuls of her dress and apron so she wouldn't trip over them. "Oh, for the love of...Shadow! Did you do this!?"

Shadow sat serenely on the counter and licked her paw. Dorothy used the distraction to slip from the pantry hall to the stairs and run away, but just when she thought she was in the clear, she stumbled right into Heero, who was on his way down to investigate the ruckus for himself. They collided with terrible force, and Heero had to be gentlemanly and grab her arm so she wouldn't topple over backwards, but instead of thanking him, she shoved him aside and ran the rest of the way upstairs and out of sight. Heero glared and jogged downstairs.

"...got to understand sooner or later that there are kitty things in this house, and there are human things in this house, and kitties aren't supposed to touch human things! Got it!?" Hilde was bent over a pile of flour and shards of pottery with a dustpan and a little hand brush, admonishing Shadow who sat calmly on the counter where the flour jar had stood, appearing not to be listening to the speech.

"What happened?" Heero asked gruffly.

"Your cat knocked this off the counter! When are you going to discipline that animal!?"

Heero scrunched up his face and looked behind him, then back at Hilde. "Are you sure she did it?"

Hilde harrumphed and gestured maniacally with the hand brush, still down on her knees. "Well, she must have! There was no one else in the kitchen!"

"Ah." She obviously hadn't seen Dorothy, and Heero thought it best not to compound her agitation with the reality that they had almost let the Baroness slip through the net.

Hilde hauled herself to her feet with a dustpan full of flour and stomped up to the counter, pointing sharply at Shadow with her free hand. "Bad cat! Bad, bad cat!" Next, she stomped over to the dustbin and dumped the lot, soon stomping back to get another panful. "Don't strain yourself helping me, Heero."

"I'll help by removing the perpetrator from your presence," Heero said, scooping up Shadow and walking away with her. She was remarkably forgiving of Hilde, to take such undeserved abuse, and after coupling that with the cat's quick thinking in catching Dorothy red-pawed, Heero was quite impressed. It was a bright spot in an otherwise bleak and troublesome day. "Good job," he whispered in her ear. Shadow purred.

Once Hilde had finished clearing away the rest of the shards and spilled flour, she looked up and noticed that Heero hadn't moved for several minutes. He was leaning his left shoulder against a piece of wall so he could face the back door, still watching and waiting. Shadow was still curled up in his arms, and he was scratching the back of her neck rhythmically, staring at the unmoving door as if in a trance. He didn't look at all well. Hilde sighed and padded up behind him. "I wish you'd stop worrying," she said softly. "He's coming back."

Heero never actually vocalized his fears about Duo to anyone, so he should have been suspicious as to why Hilde could tell exactly what he was thinking, but he was too weary even to do that. "Hn..."

"Listen to me, will ya? I know for a fact that he would never, ever leave you." After only a brief hesitation, she moved up very close behind him, putting her left hand up on his shoulder and her right on his arm, squeezing slightly in a comforting way. "I'm closer to him than I've been to anyone else, so if you can't see it, who else should know better than me? He's coming back, and he wouldn't want you to be miserable like this."

Heero's brow crinkled as he realized what was happening. Without moving his head, he looked down at the hand on his arm. Hilde. Touching. Something not right here. Aside from the words 'Hilde' and 'touching', the phrase 'saying nice things about Duo's loyalty' floated through his brain as well. He had yet to spend any reasonable length of time alone with Hilde and not be reasonably confused about her motives. Who did she truly care for? Who did she expect Heero to care for? What kind of unfathomable female mind games was she playing? Snowed in by his self-interrogation, he escaped by twisting around and dumping Shadow into Hilde's arms. "I think I'll go for a walk."

"Atta boy, take your mind off it," Hilde said, balancing the squirmy feline with both hands. Heero strode briskly out the back door and disappeared, not knowing when he himself would return, let alone Duo.

**********

Treize thought of himself as more patient than most people he knew, but that was when faced with unavoidable delays, or perhaps the choice of quality over speed. However, when there was absolutely no purpose or benefit in moving slowly, he preferred to shift into the fast lane whenever possible. This was vividly on his mind when he found Relena in the glittering blue and gold drawing room and sat down next to her to have a chat.

"That's three days in a row you've skipped breakfast," the Count chided with a smile. "Don't think I don't notice when my niece is out of sorts."

Relena returned his smile bravely. "I'm sorry. I get like this when I'm upset, I always have."

"Here." Treize leaned back into the sofa, swung one leg over the other, and passed a plate to Relena with a mixed berry tea biscuit on it. "Keep your strength up, dear."

Relena's smile grew. How thoughtful...he really does worry about me. "Thank you." She took the plate and nibbled away at the baked treat, not realizing until then that her stomach was growling madly. "I have to admit...this is all wearing me down...more so than I expected. I desperately wanted to be strong for my brother's sake, but I'm just not. There's no sense in deluding myself."

Sounds like you'd rather get things over with, Treize thought with a fiendish grin. How fortuitous. "If I may say so, the longer you drag out the reading of your father's will, the worse you'll feel. Every effort has been made to find your brother, and now it's time to let go and move on with your life. I believe he would have wanted that."

"Maybe," Relena sighed.

Long after she had finished eating, they sat side-by-side, not saying anything, but the wheels in Treize's head were cranking over at a thousand revolutions per second. Come on, you silly girl. You've held me up long enough. It's time to end this. Have your father's will read now so we can get on with dispersing his fortune. Don't worry...I wouldn't necessarily leave you destitute...but for the sake of international interests, you may have to lower your standard of living somewhat. That money is earmarked for more important things than keeping you well-stocked with French perfume.

"You know, you're right," the girl said finally. "It's not helping anyone, sitting on my hands when we could be putting father's money to work for us. I'll talk to Mr. Marlowe and find out how soon he can fit us into his schedule."

Treize patted her on the shoulder and stood. "You know it makes sense." After accepting her brave smile as confirmation that the will would be taken care of as soon as possible, he left her to her thoughts, shutting the drawing room doors behind him. He smirked to himself as he walked back down the hall to his unfinished coffee in the conservatory. Today's youth are so wonderfully impressionable.

**********

Thinking about Duo and worrying about whether or not he would ever return put Heero in a lousy mood, and it was becoming dangerously close to wiping out what little job efficiency he possessed. He needed to clear his head, and the easiest way to do that on his own was to hide in Catherine's basement gymnasium and take his frustrations out on the heavy bag. The cab ride seemed to take forever, and he impatiently rushed through the eating area of the pub, avoiding eye contact with everyone and hustling downstairs to change into his workout gear and forget his predicament.

Forgetting wasn't easy; as soon as he started flinging roundhouse kicks at the hanging sack, the anxieties began buzzing around his head like hungry mosquitos. Why did I meet Duo? Why did he have to show me how wretched my life was? Why couldn't I have continued on in ignorance, blindly following my orders and never wanting to complain about the way I was treated? I wouldn't know what freedom was like...or good food...or friendship...or being abandoned... With each pause in between thoughts, he kicked the bag with greater and greater force until something in his supporting ankle went 'twang' and he tumbled down to the mat in no small amount of pain. He growled and clutched the bad ankle, berating himself for losing concentration.

He sat curled up on the mat for a long time, staring down and panting from exertion, then slowly looked up at the opposing wall. There was an old dartboard on that wall, with a single dart angrily jammed into its centre, holding up a squarish piece of beige paper, the letter Heero had received early that morning. Unfolding himself gingerly and standing slowly on his injured ankle, he walked painfully over to the dartboard, ripped the paper off, and read it over just one more time.

"Return to me now, and I will not harm you."

It was the worst possible time for Lord Jeffrhyss to start poking his nose in again. Day after day, Heero had been waiting for some small contact from Duo to let him know what his plans were, and for all his hoping and watchfulness, the only word he received was from his hated master, extending an invitation to rejoin the ranks.

Heero leaned his back against the wall, then slid down it into a sloppy sitting position, still staring at the letter. Why are you pestering me now, of all times? I went for weeks without hearing from you, and I've found that I prefer it. I thought you might have finally decided to leave me alone... That was a foolish hope, and he knew it. Jeffrhyss had probably just been lulling him into a false sense of security, and now appeared to be impatient to see his most valuable agent returned to him.

The trouble was, without Duo, life as an agent didn't seem that bad. The chef constantly derided Heero's virtual slave status, and Heero was never quick to contradict him, but it was a life that he was familiar with, one he had already invested twelve years in. He was used to receiving detailed instructions and carrying them out, and even felt a small sense of satisfaction at completing even a basic training mission successfully. He was used to the beatings that were employed as punishment for mistakes, and gained a fierce resolve never to make the same mistake twice. He was used to eating whatever was given to him, and being tied down to his bunk at night, because Jeffrhyss had told him over and over since he was a child that without His Lordship's help, Heero would have died in the gutter, or worse. He should be grateful. If Heero went back, he was fairly sure that the pain of losing Duo would be wrenched out of him, the way most useless emotions had been eradicated as part of his basic training years before. He would forget, and everything would be as it was before. He should be grateful for that as well.

He was fairly sure that this was possible. But then...if my emotions were eradicated...what am I doing here, sulking with an anger-induced ankle sprain and feeling sorry for myself?

The rest of his hour-long workout session was frittered away without Heero moving from that spot on the floor, drifting from one disturbing thought to the next. At the end, he decided for himself that the past year had been a positive experience on the whole, compared to the twelve years that preceded it, and that he should be grateful for that year most of all. Mentally fatigued and physically battered, he pulled himself to his feet and hobbled uneasily upstairs to clean himself up and check over a few things with Catherine. To celebrate all that he had to be thankful for, he had suggested a plan to the enterprising barmaid, and he intended to go through with the proceedings, whether there was a guest of honour or not.

**********

Later, around dinnertime, the remaining servants were beginning to worry about Heero. Without him, Hilde had to enlist Bethany's help in preparing dinner, and Doris was volunteered to dish it out at the dinner table. Relena didn't demand an explanation from anybody, for she seemed to have other things on her mind, which was just as well. No one would have known what to tell her; Heero had simply disappeared.

At that very moment, he wasn't that far away, pacing the entire length of the Euston Street train station, the one closest to the manor. He had been frequenting the station at least once a day for the past week in the hopes that Duo might spring out of a train from Wales, all smiles and hungry for a hug. This time, Heero was pacing without watching the incoming trains, all tidied up and wearing his best new suit, and paused frequently in front of the ticket area, where a giant chalkboard hoisted above the clerks' heads displayed both incoming and outgoing services.

Heero stopped and stared at the chalkboard. In less than ten minutes, there was a train to Southampton, and from there it was a short ferry ride to the Isle of Wight. He had almost five pounds in his pocket, and no bothersome luggage to haul around. He didn't need to take a single scrap with him from the manor if he wanted to leave, for he knew every one of his immediate needs would be taken care of by the organization. He would have food, shelter, and within days, perhaps a new mission. He even had the promise on paper that Jeffrhyss would do no harm to him upon his return. Certainly, he would be punished, but his useful life would be far from over, and he would be filled with a new purpose. Now the train to Southampton was leaving in five minutes.

How easily would I forget Duo if I stepped on that train? he wondered. Probably about as easily as he himself would be forgotten by the ones he left behind. Relena would have to guard her own fortune from the jackals within her walls, Quatre would have to sort out his family troubles with one less pair of hands, and Otto would be heading down to the post office with a smile on his face to put a card in the window asking for new applicants for the position of head butler. They'd be disappointed for awhile, but they could manage. Now the train to Southampton would be leaving in three minutes. The next train from Wales was due in two minutes.

How soon would Duo forget me? In a sense, we'd both be returning to the life we're most used to...he's always been more comfortable in Ireland, even when he was hundreds of miles away. That's where his heart's been all along. Amid great puffs of steam and a thundering, clattering noise, the train from Wales pulled into the station a little bit early, on the track closest to where Heero was standing. On another track, a conductor was calling the all-aboard for the train to Wimbledon, Basingstoke, Winchester, Southampton, and the ferry to the Isle of Wight. There was still time to get on it.

I suppose running away would be the same as giving up, and no matter where he was, Duo would never let me hear the end of it. He hates quitters. He turned and watched the passengers file off the train from Wales at an excruciatingly slow pace. Behind him, the train headed south blew its whistle, indicating that this was Heero's last chance to reunite with Jeffrhyss.

He'd say I have no faith...

One by one, the train before him emptied from a long string of cars, each with two busy exits. The resulting super-thick glob of people swarmed straight past Heero, engulfing him in a sea of blank faces that pummelled him with wave after tedious wave of indifference. Near the end of the deluge came a slim, tired figure carrying a single suitcase, dressed in a pleasant, sense-appeasing brown, who searched the crowd with anxious violet eyes. In the same instant, the two loneliest people in the whole world found each other in the buzzing crowd, leapt forward, threw their arms around each other and breathed out a shared sigh that was quickly lost in the surrounding pandemonium. The suitcase fell to the floor and lay untouched.

Heero had both arms wrapped so tightly around Duo that he could hardly breathe, but to be fair, he wasn't concentrating much on breathing anyway. "I missed you so much," the chef whispered with what little air he possessed. "I'm sorry I didn't write or anything, but there was a lot going on, and...it was just..." Words failed him quickly, and he simply squeezed Heero back even tighter.

A small part of Heero's brain told him that people were probably starting to stare by now, but it was immaterial. An even smaller amount of faith had paid off many times over, and it was far more important anyway. Still, he stood clutching his friend for quite a long time, long enough for Duo to scrunch both eyebrows in a worried way and wonder if something was wrong. "Uh...Heero? You alright?"

Heero took a long time to respond, and then he only uncoiled himself from Duo as slowly as he could and cradled the boy's head in both hands, with their foreheads touching and their noses a hair's breadth apart. Duo looked up at Heero, all blurry with his eyes closed, and felt sick with worry. "Oh man.....you thought I wasn't coming back. You figured you were never gonna see me again, didn't you? I can tell...you can't hide anything from me."

Heero's hands dropped to Duo's shoulders, and he leaned back a bit so he could look at him clearly. "Never mind that."

"You've got some serious trust issues, you know that?" Duo reluctantly broke contact to stoop down and pick up his suitcase. "Didn't I tell you not to worry? Huh? Didn't I tell you everything was gonna be fine?" He waited a few seconds, then latched onto Heero in a fierce sidelong hug, grinning and laughing. "Aw, forget about it! Get me out of this place! I'm starving!"

Heero smiled and returned the hug, leading Duo off the platform and out of the station as the train to Southampton chugged away down the opposite track. The ankle he had injured earlier was still a bit sore, but he made a solid effort to hide any limping, not wanting to worry his friend any further. They easily made it outside, and to Duo's pleasant surprise, the butler had a carriage waiting for them across the street, and they climbed aboard. On the way inside, Heero nodded to the driver, who acted on previous instructions and drove east, away from the station, and strangely, away from Bridlewood. Duo didn't notice, and the conversation travelled elsewhere. "How is she?" Heero asked.

Duo slouched tiredly. "Not bad...not good either, but I cheered her up lots."

"How was it coming back across the border?"

"...that was the weirdest thing," Duo said with a sense of wonder. "I told her I expected it to be rough getting back because I don't have a passport, and she just said she'd take care of it. When I got to the seaport...they didn't hassle me at all. As soon as the customs guy saw me, he waved me right through." He shrugged. "Anyway, I hope you weren't waiting too long. You haven't been camping out here every night trainspotting, have you? It kinda takes the sport out of it when they pull up right in front of you, y'know."

Heero looked as innocent as could be. "I had no idea you'd be on that train. It was a guess."

"A guess!?" Duo folded his arms and gave Heero an accusatory glare of the highest order. "Wrong answer, buddy boy. I must say, I'm shocked...nay, appalled that you have no clue what day today is. I expected you to know I'd be back today! I had to be back today! Don't you know what day it is!?"

Heero still looked innocent. "The twelfth?"

"Yeah...and?"

"...and..."

Duo coughed in mock offense. "Well, I don't know why I'd still be your friend after hearing that!" Heero smirked to himself as Duo explained why. "Today isn't just the twelfth, I'll have you know...a year ago today is the day we first met. I might not have been able to read calendars back then, but I always knew what day it was."

Heero arched his eyebrows. "Really, now..."

"Yeah, and as for people who forget major milestones in their lives, let me just say..." For the first time since their journey began, Duo noticed the direction in which they were riding. "Uh...aren't we going the wrong way?"

"Don't know. Are we?" Heero replied, looking sly and roguish. Duo appeared highly perplexed and leaned over to the window, studying the buildings and side streets as they flew by. Just when he thought he recognized the neighbourhood and was about to guess where they were going, they arrived. The carriage stopped in front of the Muddy Nag, and Heero poked Duo right out the door and onto the pavement, just barely holding back a sage smile.

"What are we doing here?" Duo asked. "I've gotta get back to my kitchen!"

"Inside," Heero said, poking him in the shoulder again.

"Ow! Okay, okay!" Duo acquiesced, shoved his way through the door of the pub...and was greeted by a spectacular sight. The interior of the pub had been transformed from its old scheme of green and brown, complete with ugly patterned wallpaper, a scuffed floor, and dated wall decorations, to a shimmering fantasy in red. Pristine new red tablecloths covered every horizontal surface, sparkling red Christmas decorations hung down the walls and from the ceiling, and dozens of red candles were lit all around the room. The dining room was just about full, with a varied and boisterous crowd of customers who were all smiling and chatting to each other over the exact same dish. In front of each customer was a fresh slice of cherry pie.

"There's the man of the hour!" a girl's voice called out. Within seconds, Catherine squirted out from between two very full tables, wearing a tremendously perky crinoline dress in a brilliant red that outshone the rest of the room all by itself. "Right this way, sirs," she cooed, leading a very confused Duo away, who kept looking over his shoulder questioningly at Heero all the way to their reserved spot. Nestled to one side of the room, far from Heero's usual tiny table near the door to the kitchen, was a cozy horseshoe-shaped booth that had been set aside for someone, with candles and water glasses, red cloth napkins and fancy gold-rimmed tableware, nicer than what the rest of the customers were eating off of. At Catherine's prompting, the boys sat down.

"Is someone gonna let me in on the big secret, or what?" Duo complained mirthfully, letting a hint of a smile escape his control.

"My pleasure," Catherine said, putting on her most dramatic airs. "A year ago today, I had a major breakthrough with my cooking...a cherry pie of such artistry, such succulence, such outstanding culinary pulchritude that I had to declare, out of all the creations that have come out of my kitchen, it was truly the most perfect." She folded her hands and looked down at Duo in joking accusation. "It was a little too perfect."

"Eheheh," Duo coughed, tugging at his collar.

"That day, my most exceptional work was, shall we say...misappropriated by some person or persons who shall remain nameless..." Duo and Heero each smirked and raised an eyebrow at each other in perfect unison. "...and I have to admit, I was really furious at that person...but then I got to know him a little better. I learned that when you bake with love, you bake a whole lot better, and thanks to a few extra recipes of his, and a little inspiration, I've turned into a better cook and a better hostess. This place has never been more successful in all the years I've worked here, and I believe it's because I met this nameless pie bandit and found out what made him tick. To that end, June the Twelfth will now and forever be Cherry Pie Day at the Muddy Nag, in honour of the pie thief that put me on the road to success."

Duo was caught between a laugh and a hug, wide-eyed and smiling. "I...I don't know what to say...this is just plain awesome, Cathy! Thanks!"

"You're welcome, you sticky-fingered little so-and-so," Catherine said, leaning down to tug playfully on Duo's ear. "You should be thanking Heero, though. The whole thing was his idea. All I did was import six crates of cherries and do all the cooking." The barmaid didn't notice Duo's eyes shift quickly over to Heero, suddenly glowing with joy, relief, and love. "Now, what can I get you boys?"

Unleashing his best pearly grin, Duo laughed, leaned back, and humoured the girl. "Well, I dunno...what are the specials this evening?"

Catherine grinned back, snatched a pencil from behind her ear, and pointed at the menu board with it. The entire regular menu had been erased from the black slate surface, replaced with the words 'The best cherry pie you've ever eaten, 5p. a slice.' "Of course, for privileged customers and special guests, dinner's always on the house." She winked and walked away, tucking the pencil back behind her ear as she went to rustle up two more pieces of pie.

Duo stared sweetly across the table at Heero, who was neatly framed between two lit candles and taking a sip from his goblet of water. "You remembered," he said quietly and with loving awe.

Heero put the goblet down and shrugged slightly with the same arm. "I don't have the kind of money anymore that I'd like to spend on you, so I have to find more cost-effective ways of celebrating occasions like this."

"Heero...you don't have to spend money on me to make me feel lucky to have you," Duo said. "Just knowing you didn't really forget is enough."

"I couldn't forget," Heero assured him, thinking back for the hundredth time on the day he tangled with the Peckham Pie Thief. "When a long-haired stick insect with a pie throws you into a brick wall, you don't forget that."

Duo laughed. "Hey, you weren't very nice to me either! You pulled my hair!"

"You invaded my room!"

"You insulted my cooking!"

"You threw my life into chaos!"

Duo beamed. "Well, yeah, I did that, all right. I had to, your life was just crying out for some chaos."

Catherine returned from the kitchen with two very hefty slices of cherry pie and set them down in front of the boys. Then, before Duo could dig in to the tantalizing treat, she made him stand up and presented him to the entire clientele as the boy responsible for the Muddy Nag's recent success, and led them in three cheers which turned Duo's face a similar shade of red to the pie.

Heero sat quietly and soaked up all the positive energy in the room, especially the brilliant sunbeams coming from Duo as he smiled. This is what life should be like, he decided silently, and while Duo shyly waved off the cheers and adulations of the customers, Heero took the beige, squarish letter from Lord Jeffrhyss out of his pocket and read it over again. Promising not to harm Heero physically didn't make it a better deal than staying right where he was, with Duo. Ready with a reply, he took out his standard agent-issue retractable pen and wrote out a single line underneath Jeffrhyss' old, scrawly handwriting:

"You don't own me."

Heero had the letter and the pen tucked safely away by the time the cheers had finished, and the diners were turning back to their own affairs as well, diving into their slices of pie while a cluster of well-fed gents stood around the piano and sang songs to serenade the rest of the room. When the chef was finally allowed to sit back down, he was clearly overflowing with happiness. "I can't believe you arranged all this for me! And I didn't bring you a present from Ireland or anything!"

"Getting you back in one piece was my present," Heero said. Sitting forward a little, he held up his goblet between the two lit candles. "Happy anniversary."

Duo repeated the action, clinking their glasses together. "You too." Though it was just water, something that would leave the taste of the pie unadulterated, it seemed sweeter than ambrosia when shared at such a precious time. Duo put the glass down slowly and drooled at the pie. "This looks and smells so fantastic...but all I can think about it gobbling it down so we can go somewhere where I can hug you properly without people staring at us." He looked at the pie, then looked at Heero, who was watching him watching, and hadn't begun to eat yet. "Aw, hell with it."

With another gleaming smile, Duo scooted all the way around the horseshoe-shaped booth and trapped Heero in a giant bear hug. Heero wrestled his arms free after awhile and clutched Duo even harder in return, drenching his senses in all the lovely things he thought he might never experience again...Duo's warmth, the pressure exerted by his sinewy limbs, the scent of his hair, his kindness, his humour, and above all, his smiling face made up of a sunny palette of rosy beige and deepest violet.

Just then, perhaps induced by the sudden erasure of fear combined with the intoxication of being squeezed so tight, Heero had a craving...an electric, unfathomable craving to do something to Duo, right in front of everyone, starting with his lips and moving on in unknown directions afterwards. If he shut his eyes and inhaled Duo's scent deeply, the craving grew stronger, and the presence of the pub full of customers grew fainter. It was only Duo's comment about being stared at that registered in his subconscious and prevented him from acting, but if the craving continued, Heero reasoned, he'd have to act on it eventually, and he somewhat liked the thought of that. For now, however, the two of them were stuck in a hug they had no desire to escape, and their slices of cherry pie laid untouched for quite a long time.


~~~~~~~~~~

Next, in Episode Fifty-One: Otto acts on a suspicion and invades the cellar unexpectedly, Duo visits Sally in the hopes of finding a cure for Helen, and Heero devises a way to test Duo's trust and his own alien impulses safely.

I think we've just witnessed the opening of a very important floodgate. =^_~= There's nothing more I need to say about this, so I'll see you next time, on June 21st! Ja ne!