Disclaimer: ...what? You think I have time to write a new disclaimer every week? Do you have any idea how busy I am!? =P Fuggedaboudit.

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Episode Sixty-Six: Twisted Mirror

"The truly proud man knows neither superiors nor inferiors. The first he does not admit of, the last he does not concern himself about." ~William Hazlitt

November 23rd, 1902

Down in his shared cellar bedchamber, Trowa sat propped up against the wall, slouched and pouting with all his might. With a slow, steady rhythm, he threw an object at the opposing wall, a palm-sized ball of dull red leather, a souvenir from his cricketing days. Over and over, he flung the ball and caught it again as it bounced back to him. He was essentially hiding, from many strange ideas and from one blond gardener.

The two of them hadn't spoken much about the Holstein incident at the fair. Trowa was suddenly struggling with a lot of confusing feelings, but somehow didn't feel as though he could talk about them with the one person who needed his reassurance the most.

I wish I knew what to tell him. He didn't really ask me what he meant to ask, but he deserves an answer anyway...before he gets too caught up in this game of hide-and-seek. Before we both do.

On one hand, he could easily see how he and Quatre might be drawn to one another. They had a faithful friendship, backed by shared interests, unearthly powers, and a pledge to protect Quatre from the dangerous factions in his own family. Trowa just worried, after seeing the way Quatre looked at him in the stables, that they might have interpreted that friendship differently.

Out of a sliver of the window, he saw the back of Quatre's winter coat and a woolly hat plodding away from the house, probably on a path to Arthur's cottage. Now Trowa considered it safe to crawl out to the kitchen for his breakfast, like the despicable worm he was. Tossing the cricket ball aside, he skulked out towards the faint voices he had heard all morning. When he arrived, Heero and Hilde were lounging at the kitchen table, Duo was whipping up a fresh batch of scrambled eggs and bacon, and Shadow was curled up on the table, well away from the food, apparently napping.

"I don't know what you're complaining about, this is fun!" Hilde was saying.

"Sure, it's fun for you, 'cause you're just watching!" Duo replied forcefully. "I'm the one being grilled!" Heero didn't join the scuffle, he just sat there looking smug.

"What's going on?" Trowa asked.

"It's Duo's lesson time," Hilde explained. "Heero refuses to communicate in English, so Duo has to practice his Japanese if he ever wants to get through to him."

Intrigued, Trowa perked up an eyebrow and folded his arms, settling in to watch the strange spectacle. Heero was still awaiting the delivery of his meal, and while Duo left the bacon to drain on a wire rack, he picked up both the tea kettle and the coffee pot, took them over to the kitchen table, and carefully attempted to ask Heero which he preferred. "Dotchi ga...suki desu ka?"

Approving of Duo's grammar and diction, Heero shrugged and left the choice up to him. "Dotchi demo kamaimasen."

Relieved, Duo arbitrarily chose coffee and poured some out for him. Heero's approval meant so much to him that he dreaded making a mistake, even in practice, and habitually took a little extra time to get the words just right. "I tell ya, you won't find a tougher teacher than that guy right there."

Trowa stuck his hands in his pockets and looked jokingly disappointed. "Gee, I didn't know there was no English allowed today. I was going to ask him where we keep the dustrags, since you can write your name on the chest of drawers in our room."

Heero looked up at Trowa right away. "First floor linen cupboard, second shelf from the bottom, right hand side."

Duo perched his hands on his hips and scowled, acting insulted. "Oh, that's just charming! Why can't I have a time-out like that?"

"Because Trowa's not taking any lessons, is he?" Hilde stated firmly.

"Well, that's not fair!" Duo leaned across the table to glare at Heero, narrowing missing the butter with his braid. "I think everybody else should suffer alongside me! If I can't talk to you in English, then neither can they!"

Heero looked blankly at Duo, then turned one ear towards him an inch. "Nani?"

The others chuckled as Duo pretended to sneer at the rebuff. Duo complained every chance he got, but he and Heero both knew the other enjoyed it completely, and a little sarcasm displayed by either side was all part of the fun. Everyone could see it.

"Did you order your breakfast in Japanese too?" Trowa asked as Duo brought over platefuls of eggs, sausage, toast, bacon, and dollops of strawberry jam.

Heero shook his head. "Couldn't. We don't have words for every item on the typical English menu."

"Hey, you should be grateful for what you get. There's some really disgusting things on the menu that I haven't even attempted," Duo pointed out, slathering jam on his toast. "Do you know what they put in black pudding? I know, and I wish I didn't."

Again, Heero looked bewildered and leaned forward a bit. "Nani?"

Duo huffed out a sigh as his knife stopped moving. "Aw, for cryin' out loud! I can't talk properly about it if you haven't got a word for it! You said so yourself!"

Heero blinked and shook his head again. "Wakaranai."

Duo stuck his tongue out and went on with his meal.

Grateful as always to be well fed, Trowa dug into his breakfast with gusto, and ended up chewing and talking at the same time. "So what's on the agenda today?"

Hilde wolfed down the rest of her eggs quickly before answering. "Well, Lucrezia's been going to these society lunches lately, y'know, putting her ear to the ground and stuff, and she heard from these old biddies in some civic service club that a girl matching Dorothy's description moved into Lady Une's house last week."

Continuing the pattern that had existed before Trowa even got there, Heero overlaid a second conversation on top of the first, solely for Duo's benefit. "Ima nanji desu ka?"

Duo stopped eating to devote all of his brainpower to the question, then looked up at the pendulum clock above the coat rack. "Kuji...jippun sugi desu."

"Ii desu," Heero praised for the correct answer. It was ten past nine.

"How come I never heard about that?" Trowa wondered out loud.

"We tried to find you to tell you," Hilde said, "and Quatre too, but you both disappeared. Anyway, the secret's out, and now we have to figure out why she didn't tell anyone. She's supposed to be running errands for us, after all."

"Otenki-wa dou desu-ka?" said Heero-sensei.

Duo looked over his shoulder and saw through the window that it was lightly snowing. He relayed the information at once. "Yuki-ga futte imasu."

"Ii desu."

"Fine thing expecting her to leak information to Treize about Hassan, but we've already given her everything we had," Trowa complained.

Hilde shrugged with her eyebrows. "We'll just have to come up with something, I guess."

Suddenly, someone came in through the back door, shaking off the snow and taking off his hat. It was Quatre, and as soon as he looked up and saw Trowa, they both went slightly red. Nevertheless, the gardener lifted his head proudly and carried on as if nothing was wrong. "What are we all talking about?" he chirped.

"Nannin imasu ka?" Heero asked, gesturing around the room with his fork.

Quatre stood there and blinked, frozen halfway out of his coat. "...okaaay..."

"It's alright, he's talking to me," Duo told him offhandedly. He then counted up the number of boys and girls in the room, as per his teacher's request, and prepared a verbal report. "Onnanoko ga hitori...to otonoko ga.....umm...oh, shoot. Four. What's the word for four?" He sank his head into one hand and fiercely knit his brow, struggling for the answer.

Quatre hung up his coat and chuckled at Duo's desperation, finally recognizing another one of their language lessons. "What's the penalty if you get it wrong?"

"I think he should get a spanking," Hilde muttered quietly through a constrained smile.

"I have to live with the shame until I can make it up in the next lesson!" Duo tried and tried, but couldn't find the word he was looking for anywhere in his brain. He sighed and shook his head in frustration. "I can't remember."

"...nani?"

"Rrrgh!" Duo wrapped his braid around his neck and comically tried to strangle himself with it, eliciting more than enough laughter from the others to cover up his melodramatic gagging noises. "I forgot! I forgot! Washuremashita!" he finally insisted with his hands in the air.

Smiling, Heero scolded him a bit for his forgetfulness. "Wasuremono o shite wa ikemasen."

Duo narrowed his eyes. "You can be such a pain."

Heero propped up his chin in one hand, staring at Duo with a strange but pleasantly wistful gaze. "Kirei-na hitomi-dane," he purred lightly. While Duo looked at the ceiling, mutely repeating those words to himself and trying to decipher them, Heero finished off his coffee and turned to Quatre. "We know where Dorothy is, we just don't have any more information to give her."

"If I could get a message to the rest of my family, provided there's anyone back home who'd still be loyal to me, we might have something," Quatre mused.

Duo was still attempting to piece together what Heero had said to him, and Heero smirked a bit as he rose and took his breakfast dishes over to the washbasin. "Today I might go through Giorgenson's files again, in case there's anything we missed. In fact, since there's nothing else on, I might go now so I can be back for lunch." He walked back to his original side of the table and bowed to his student, bringing an end to the lesson. "Soredewa oitoma itashimashou."

Duo got up and bowed as well, then straightened back up, licked his lips, and prepared to deliver a response that he had been working on for days. He struggled through it hesitantly, his hands suspended in mid-air and his eyes continually flitting up to the ceiling in thought. "Anata-to...shaburu-ga...dekite ureshii desu!" He grinned proudly at the end.

Heero absorbed the badly-formed sentence for half a second, then suddenly burst out laughing and couldn't stop. While the rest of them all gaped at the paranormal sound, he collapsed back into his chair, hyperventilating with glee.

Although a part of Duo was thrilled to see Heero so happy, the rest of him was absolutely mortified. "What'd I say!? What'd I say!?"

"Whatever you meant to say, I don't think you quite said it," Trowa guessed, regarding Heero with a bizarre kind of clinical fascination. Even Shadow looked up from her nap, it was that much of an occasion.

"I was trying to say, 'It was nice chatting with you!'" Duo gulped frantically, turning redder than his homemade tomato sauce. "Heero, come on! Tell me what I said!"

Heero covered his mouth with one hand and shook his head, unable to see for the excess water in his eyes. He could practically count the instances in his life when he had laughed so hard on one hand, and his sides hurt so badly that he could hardly sit up. Finally, struggling just to draw breath, he forced himself to stand up and choke out a few words. "I th-think...that's all...the lesson time we have for...t-today."

"Heero, I'm serious! I wanna know what I said wrong!" Duo's pleas and commands were ignored as Heero made a hasty retreat up the stairs, causing Duo to stand at the bottom of the stairwell, shouting angrily upwards. "You brat! Get back here!!"

"Give it up, Duo, he's long gone," said Hilde, smirking and patting his nearest arm.

Duo turned away from the stairs and appeared lost. "I'm not gonna be able to concentrate for the whole rest of the day, now."

They all had a good-hearted giggle at Duo's expense, and he soon joined them, until Bethany came shooting down the stairs with the morning mail, looking like she had just seen something that couldn't be explained as anything other than demon possession. "Who died?" she asked fearfully, jerking a thumb over her shoulder at the stairwell.

"Don't be mean!" Quatre scolded. "Heero's just as entitled to the occasional belly laugh as the rest of us. It's perfectly normal."

"Hmmm...matt'r of opinion," Bethany murmured. "Post's 'ere, anyway."

Duo went from sullen to lively and approached her with hopeful eyes. "Tegami ga ari--uh...I mean, uh...any mail for me?"

Bethany gave him the same deranged look she gave Heero as they passed each other on the stairs, and mechanically swung out an arm with a letter clutched at the end of it. Duo happily snatched the letter, having been kept waiting for it for what felt like an eternity, and skittered into a corner to read it in semi-seclusion. The others made fairly bland conversation while Bethany was still there, and waited until she was gone before getting back on topic.

"So what do we tell Dorothy next time we see her?" Hilde wondered.

Quatre looked between her and Trowa, then shrugged uncomfortably. "We'll just have to wait and see if Heero can come up with anything, for now."

After slurping down the last few drops of her grapefruit juice, Hilde stood, smacked her lips, and brushed her hands together. "Well, it's early yet...think I'll go have a nice leisurely soak and do my nails." She fluttered away, humming luxuriantly, and suddenly Quatre and Trowa found themselves pretty much alone, and staring uneasily at each other.

Eventually, Quatre dragged his eyes away and looked over at Duo, who was thoroughly immersed in his letter. "Um...s-so, uh...you're going to the pub with Heero this afternoon?" he asked, desperate for a distraction.

It took Duo ages to look up, and when he did, his eyes were vacant and haunted. "Huh?" His brain caught up with his ears just in time, saving Quatre the trouble of asking the question again. "Oh...no, I don't think so," he muttered blandly, glancing up at the clock, then back down at the petal-pink pages he held. "Actually...there's something else I oughta do today...by myself. Tell him to go on without me, okay?"

Trowa and Quatre watched with worried eyes as Duo plodded hastily up the stairs with his head drooping and his braid dragging lifelessly along behind him, but couldn't think of anything to say. Once again terrified at the prospect of being left along together with a million and one things not to talk about, the boys panicked, and sat blank-faced on either side of the table, unable to devise a graceful exit. Shadow lifted her head to look around, and the boys both leapt on her at once, petting her, praising her, and playing games with her for as long as it took until someone else wandered into the kitchen and broke the tension between them. Shadow was pleased with the sudden surplus of attention, but she couldn't have known that it was just the two-leggers' ploy to avoid starting a conversation they didn't know how to finish.

**********

Heero never once questioned where Duo was swanning off to, or why, but it did mean that he more or less needed another partner for what he had planned. Whether he found any information in Giorgenson's archives to feed Dorothy or not, he wanted to confirm with his own eyes that she had actually moved in with Treize and Lady Une. As it turned out, there was no new information buried in the archives, so it was off to the lavish west end estate with his willing volunteer, Lucrezia.

"How do we want to handle this?" she asked as they strolled down the street, bundled up in their winter coats. "Are we just going to walk up and ring the doorbell?"

"I think I was counting on a flash of inspiration to tell me the best way to proceed," said Heero. "The back yard is poorly guarded, and from there we might be able to see clear into some of the back rooms."

Lucrezia thought that was as good a plan as any, and let her mind wander while they made their way closer to the estate. She thought about Milliardo for the hundredth time, but instead of lingering on him, her attention drifted unexpectedly to land on Heero. He was a few inches taller than the day they first met, but somehow she hadn't noticed it before. His frame was gradually losing some of its boyish quality, and his features were the tiniest bit more angular. Time and fate were transforming him from an abused child into a young man of many passions, just now learning to strain against their iron tethers. While he still didn't quite match her in height, Lucrezia found herself echoing the old thought that if Heero had been just a few years older, and if Milliardo had never returned from the war, her desires might have led her down a completely different road. Naturally, she felt a little guilty, but her lingering fixation on the boy was only due to the fact that he and Milliardo were more alike than they would ever know. Even at that moment, she felt his pull on her, but she told herself yet again that it was all in her mind. "Lady Une's seen so little of me, she might not recognize me at all if I went up to the door and asked for Dorothy," she commented, endeavouring to distract herself.

"We'll keep that option open in reserve, in case we--" The next few words hit an impassible road block in Heero's throat as he spotted something down the road that set off dozens of mental alarms. It was a fair-haired, round-headed boy about his age, crossing the street and heading for Une's estate. It was the boy who sat next to Jeffrhyss as guard and escort the day of the coronation. It was an agent.

The blond boy hadn't seen Heero yet, but would surely recognize him if he did, so without thinking, Heero grabbed Lucrezia by both arms and flung himself behind a convenient hedge, taking her down with a surprised yelp. Landing flat on her back in a half-inch of snow with Heero splayed flat on top of her did nothing constructive for Lucrezia's state of mind, and she suddenly needed another distraction. As his instincts let go and his intellect took over, Heero realized his rather uncouth error and cringed. His reflexes apparently forgot that it wasn't Duo walking beside him. "Sorry," he whispered, rolling into a crouch and slowly peeping overtop of the hedge.

Lucrezia needed a few deep breaths to collect herself, but managed to sit up and crouch beside him. "What is it?"

"See him?"

At Heero's indication, she peeked over the hedge as well, and saw a young man in a dark suit with a straw hat and leather attaché walking up and knocking firmly on Lady Une's door. He was a good fifty yards away, at least, and didn't appear to have noticed anyone taking a nosedive behind the shrubbery separating Une's property from the next. "The one with the case? Who is he?"

Heero hesitated, working his jaw in contempt. "He belongs to Lord Jeffrhyss, like I did. We've crossed paths once or twice, but only in training...never in the field, unsupervised. His name is Byron."

"Byron who?"

"That's just his alias. I don't know his real name, or if he even has one anymore."

"What's he doing here?"

"Probably carrying out the reconnaissance mission on Treize...since the position's been vacant for some time."

They were much too far away to hear what was being said, but the door definitely opened, for the blond boy swept off his hat and threw a charming smile at whoever was inside. "Good afternoon, sir! Is the lady of the house at home?"

Just inside the door, Une's snooty butler regarded the boy with his usual distaste, then showed him into the foyer and vanished. Byron adjusted one of his cufflinks while he waited, and was still broadly smiling when a classy brunette in a burgundy dress emerged. "Can I help you?" she purred haughtily.

"You already have, looking so ravishing at this hour of the day," Byron complimented her, "but what I can help you with is even more exciting." He swung his attaché case up to sit flat nested in both hands, clicked open the locks, and the lid sprang open, revealing a molded velvet interior cradling a modest selection of sparkling goblets and candlesticks. "The finest in genuine Dresden mercury glass, available at a premium price to very select customers!"

Une rolled her eyes slightly. It was up to her butler to turn away any and all door-to-door salesmen, but somehow this one slipped through the net. "Oh, really," she scoffed. "Silvered glass is for peasants. I won't even touch anything less than sterling!"

"Ah, but these are artisan originals," Byron continued, "hand-signed and dated more than thirty years ago, and destined to become collectible antiques! Real masterpieces!"

"What's going on out there!?" a man's booming baritone shouted from an inner hall of the house. An irate Treize, wondering where his lady fair had been dragged off to in the middle of their lunch, came clomping into the marble-tiled front hall, slapping a folded newspaper against his palm. When he caught sight of the fair-haired salesman, however, he froze.

Byron spied Treize and immediately smiled even wider than before. "Why, hello there! We simply must stop meeting like this!"

Une turned and glared accusingly at her husband-to-be, with one hand on her hip and the other tracing a line of pearls around her throat. "What does he mean? Do you know this person?"

Treize fixed an icy, suspicious stare on the boy. It was the same young fellow who cleverly talked his way into sharing a carriage ride from Southampton to Relena's country estate. His presence in London couldn't possibly have been a coincidence. "No. I don't know him."

"Oh, surely you remember," Byron said snidely, closing his case full of silvered glass. "We were on the train to Southampton together, and then in that carriage to--"

"Just because I have frittered away time in the same enclosed space as you does not mean to say that I know you. Now, will you kindly vacate these premises, and take your worthless trinkets with you."

Treize was trying to distract Une from noticing one detail in particular from the lad's short speech, but it was too late. She scowled at him. "You went to see her, didn't you? You went to visit your simpering niece in the country after you promised not to!"

Byron pretended to look bashfully repentant. "Oh dear, I've dropped you right in it, haven't I? I'd better go."

"I'll see you out," Treize spat, stalking forward and taking a firm hold of the boy's arm. He dragged him to the door, causing him to drop the straw hat that he had tucked under his arm during his brief product demonstration. Once the intruder was safely out on the doorstep, Treize leaned down, picked up the hat, and shoved it into the centre of the boy's chest, pushing him backwards almost a foot. Then, he stepped back and slammed the door. That much of the scene, Heero and Lucrezia saw quite clearly from behind the hedge. Byron seemed unfazed, and even amused by the event, and was smirking all the way back down the front walk as he sauntered off in the opposite direction, his mission well underway.

Heero looked at Lucrezia, made a swift and angular beckoning motion with one hand, and she nodded in response. They slowly rose from their hiding place and proceeded to tail Byron for the next twenty minutes, up one street and down the next, until he finally stopped at a continental-style café.

The pursuers paused outside while Heero decided what to do next. Dorothy was put on the back burner, as he had something more urgent cooking in his mental kitchen. "As soon as we get inside," he said in a low voice, "get far enough away so that it won't look as if we're together, but not so far that you can't see me."

"I think I saw him move to the left, so I'll go right," Lucrezia confirmed.

"After you, then."

Lucrezia crossed the cobbled street to the café, and Heero followed a discreet distance behind. As soon as she was through the door, she calmly wandered to the right and sat down at an empty table for two, but not before gaping at the opulence of the place. It looked as though it had been imported in one piece straight from Monte Carlo, with gilded ornamentation on the rich red papered walls, a thick patterned carpet under every table, cloth napkins, tall candles, real silver on every surface, and enough room to swing a cat between the chairs. It looked so ordinary from the outside, but the snobbish, reclusive patrons probably liked it that way, because it discouraged newcomers. When she was given a fine embossed menu in hand-drawn calligraphy, she also gaped at the prices.

When Heero walked in, the eye-searing excess hardly made him flinch, and he went straight for his target, who was sitting comfortably and languidly in his private booth, looking over the lunch menu in a very relaxed way. A rival agent, even in such a public setting, presented a clear danger to Heero's safety, now that he was off the force, but he had a specific gamble in mind, one he felt could pay off in spades if done correctly. Heero walked right up to the booth, and stopped.

"Just the tiramisu, Gustav," the blond boy sighed contentedly without looking up. "...and maybe a liqueur chocolate or two to follow."

Heero waited for a moment, then took the menu out of Byron's hand and slapped it casually down on the table, staring down at him the entire time.

Byron looked up and greeted Heero with a serpentine smile. "Well, now! You're not Gustav! I thought something was wrong when I didn't smell his ghastly aftershave..." He watched as Heero took a seat opposite him in the booth, then beckoned over one of the waiters on duty. "A red wine for me...and a whiskey, neat, for my friend, here," he said, pointing a neighbourly hand to his comrade until the waiter grovelled off. "That is your poison of choice, isn't it?"

It had been, many moons ago, but Heero was well over that phase. He folded his arms and glared. "So you've been studying me," he stated.

"No, not personally," Byron chuckled. "I've got better things to do...but remember, the Master sees all and knows all. He knoweth of thy going out and thy coming in," he misquoted carelessly, referring to Jeffrhyss. The drinks arrived quickly, and he took a sip of his wine immediately. "My God, he could know how many times you scratch yourself in a day if he wanted to."

Heero stared down at the whiskey glass that had been set before him, then looked up at Byron again. "Why are you here?"

"Isn't it obvious? I've been given your job." Byron swirled the wine around in his glass and swallowed another gulp. "Someone has to watch Treize, so it might as well be me. I'm the right age, the right type, and I have many of your abilities with the added bonus of being trustworthy."

"I've been a part of this organization more than twice as long as you," Heero scoffed.

"Ah yes, but I haven't mutinied lately, nor have I been divulging precious information to civilians. What's that boy's name? The one you've been training to fight? Maxwell, isn't it?"

"And what if I have?"

Byron leaned forward, putting on his spiteful face and holding up his thumb and forefinger a half-inch apart. "Do you know you're just that close to being declared a berserker? The only reason you haven't been reacquired and executed is because His Lordship is clinging to the fantasy that you can be rehabilitated. Even so, if you commit the faintest act of treason, you can still be hauled in by your toenails and thrown in the pit...and we all know what that means." He sat back and smirked, swirling the last of his wine.

Heero knew he had the advantage in mental discipline, and reasoned that if he kept Byron talking long enough, he might inadvertently let something slip, something that would help hatch the budding idea in Heero's subconscious. "You don't have to stay with them, you know. You don't have to limit yourself to the existence Jeffrhyss chose for you. I got out, and I could help you to do the same."

Byron snorted. "You think I need rescuing? I'm not like the rest of you drones who were force-fed all that weak-minded tripe about harmony and peace! That's all just a smokescreen to trick agents into thinking they're fighting for the greater good! Well, let me tell you something, chum...'good' is relative. The only thing that really counts is being on the winning team, so you can whimper and cry all you want about living for yourself instead of the cause...I'm exactly where I want to be."

While Byron drained his glass and held it up, silently asking for another, Heero weighed his words carefully. Part of what he said was true, specifically the part about Jeffrhyss' five-line creed being a complete load of twaddle. It was hammered into every member of the organization that each of them could achieve peace through total obedience, and Heero had fallen for it once. Byron, however, didn't even need to be brainwashed, for he had a natural bloodlust and overactive ego that would make him obedient to Jeffrhyss regardless of the man's motives. "Still, you're more than intelligent enough to make an honest living elsewhere," Heero said, goading him.

"Honest living?" Byron laughed. "I can't think of a single advantage to that, compared with what I've got now. I'm one of the top-rated agents, since you left. My salary is scandalous. I could eat here three meals a day if I wanted. With the bonus for completing my last mission, I'll be able to make a down payment on a nice villa overlooking the Riviera for my eventual retirement, and in the meantime, I can really live it up in my off-hours. Operas, cruises, parties all night long..." The arrival of his second helping of wine caused a brief but welcome pause in the tirade, during which he guzzled another mouthful. "And women. Mustn't forget women. You know, you're awfully tense for your age, Heero. You should go downtown tonight, find yourself a nice, firm wench who can teach you how to relax. Be careful picking out girls down by the docks, though...some of them are diseased."

Suddenly nauseous, Heero wrinkled his nose in disgust, then picked up the untouched shot of fine imported bourbon and downed it in one gulp, hoping Duo would understand when he came home smelling of alcohol. It was strangely logical, since Byron paid for the drink, that he should also make it necessary. "Sounds like you expend more energy pleasing yourself than His Lordship."

"Listen, I worked hard during my last assignment, so I deserve a plum little job like Treize-spotting, and I do have some useful things to do when I'm not working. Unlike some people I could mention, I spend time bettering myself instead of squandering my training on pathetic, long-haired gutter dogs who should have been picked up by the garbage collectors years ago. That's why, in a very short while, you'll have to buy your own drinks, because I've got classes to attend this afternoon."

"I won't keep you then," Heero said, unable to eradicate every last trace of indignant scorn from his voice. He stood up and left the booth just in time, seconds before he would have reached across the table and throttled the putrid little whelp for insulting Duo.

The café had filled up a bit, making it easier for Heero to hide within the crowd while he searched the other half of the room for Lucrezia. He caught sight of her frantically-waving hand and scooted over to her table, making sure he was just out of Byron's line of sight. "That looked amiable enough from over here," she said about their conversation.

"I envy you for not having to suffer through it," Heero groaned. "We'd best get out of here befor--"

"Just a second," Lucrezia interjected. She pointed directly over Heero's shoulder to a booth by the window. "Does that fellow look at all familiar to you?"

Heero turned a bit in his chair and was hit with a small tidal wave as the young man sitting a few tables away came into focus. He sat hunched over a mangled bit of cake, which he had been picking apart with his fork, but was sadly unable to become interested in eating. His tawny lion's mane of hair was sloppily ruffled, and there were darkish half-moons under his eyes as if from weeks of persistent insomnia. "...Marcus!" Heero breathed.

"He's been moping over that dessert for as long as I've been sitting here, and from the look of him, a lot longer than that," said Lucrezia. "Looks depressed. Can't blame him, really."

"Yes..." The wheels in Heero's head spun faster and faster, until he drew a line between two big dots in the café, and his subconscious idea was officially hatched. "Let's go say hello."

Before Lucrezia had the tiniest chance to ask why, Heero was out of his chair and heading over to the booth. Being the gentleman that he was, he held up a moment while Lucrezia caught up, then all but shoved her into the unoccupied side of the booth and sat down on her right. From there, if he stretched, he could just barely make out the side of Byron's head. Marcus was obviously startled, but glad to have a familiar face to chat with. "Hello!" he chirped with surprise. "I hardly expected to see you two here. Hardly expected to be here myself..."

Heero gave him a friendly and sympathetic smile. "How are you coping, Marcus?"

"I don't think I am, really." Marcus sat up and shoved the cake away. "Bloody ostentatious concoction. Didn't really want it anyway."

"You miss Relena, don't you?" Lucrezia asked with genuine empathy.

"Mum and Dad got sick of watching me mope around the house, so they've slung me out for the day. Trouble is, even when I'm trying so hard not to think about her, I end up back in London...hoping..." Marcus breathed out a lovelorn sigh. "I can't look at the window anymore. I keep thinking she'll walk past. You've no idea where she's gone?"

Heero looked down and folded his hands on the table. "Doris telephones the country house every day, just in case, but there's never any answer."

"We've tried her friends, old family acquaintances...nobody's heard from any of them," Lucrezia added. "We even asked the police for help, but they say they can't do anything unless there's evidence of foul play."

Poor Marcus slumped back down over the table, feeling utterly hopeless. "If only I knew if any of this was my fault! I didn't think I was pressuring her, but what if she didn't see it that way? It's all gone wrong..."

There was a five-second pause of absolute silence. "Still, never mind," Heero then said in a somewhat consoling voice. "Until this all gets sorted out, I want you to know, Bridlewood's doors are always open to friends. Anytime, day or night, come on over. Our house is your house."

Lucrezia looked puzzled, but Marcus' entire face gleamed with gratitude. "Oh, that is good of you! All my own friends in Essex have already gone home to be with their families over the winter, so I'm really desperately short of people my own age on the estate. Maybe it would make me feel better to spend the occasional few hours in a different environment...and if Relena came home, I'd find out that much sooner! If there's any possible way I can pay back your kindness, just name it!"

"Well...I wasn't going to ask, but..." Heero glanced across the room at Byron's booth, then dismissed a 'What do you think you're doing?' glare from Lucrezia. "There's a friend of mine sitting on the other side of the café."

"Oh, yes?" Marcus said, looking interested.

"Yes, and it's his birthday in a short while."

"Oh, how nice!"

"I want to get his schoolmates in on a surprise party for him, but I don't know which school he attends."

"Hm, that is a problem."

"I can't ask him, because he'll know something's up, naturally."

"Naturally."

"So...I don't suppose you could..."

Marcus' eyes lit up, being the sort of person who loved to be useful, especially when he had something heavy-hearted on his mind that he wanted to forget. "I'd be happy to! Just point me to him!"

Ignoring Lucrezia's increasingly angry glare, Heero pointed around the corner and gave a brief description of his 'friend.' "Just walk right up and start talking. He loves to chat."

"Consider it done!" said Marcus, and he was off in a flash.

Unable to stand it any longer, Lucrezia reached out, grabbed the silk cravat tie around Heero's throat and yanked on it hard, pulling the tie out of his waistcoat and pulling him sharply to the side, his eyes bulging. "What is wrong with you!?" she whispered.

"Nothing! Get off!" he snarled, tugging back.

"You just sent an innocent boy to go make small talk with one of Lord Jeffrhyss' cronies! Don't you see anything slightly cruel about that!?"

"Byron won't harm him, if he really is innocent," Heero insisted. "And he does love to chat. We all do, us agents, if we're presented with a potentially valuable source of information."

Lucrezia blinked in confusion and didn't even notice that she had let go of Heero's tie. The whole thing was baffling. "This doesn't make any sense. His birthday? His schoolmates?"

Heero leaned a bit out of the booth, saw Marcus chattering away safely, then leaned back and nudged Lucrezia further towards the window. "Listen carefully. Any agent needs reliable information on the people involved with his mission. I was instructed for weeks in preparation for infiltrating the manor, but Byron came to London not knowing the first thing about Treize, and he's suddenly doing my old job."

Lucrezia blinked again. "So you're...proud? Jealous? What?"

"It's not about me, it's about him!" he said in an excitedly hushed voice. "He can't carry out his orders without additional information, and when that happens to an agent in the field, they make contact with an archival base and request the files they need. That's just the sort of place that would have accurate, up-to-date reconnaissance on Hassan, and that's what we're after, but archival bases change location frequently, and I'm out of the loop. I don't know where they are."

"...and sending the lamb after the lion is supposed to help?"

Heero visually sighed. "Right now, Byron's wondering who this person is who had the audacity to strike up a conversation uninvited. He'll memorize his name and contact the archive for information on him, while Marcus will tell us what unsuspecting school he's inflicting himself on. If it's a boarding school, which would be an agent's first choice simply for the plainness and simplicity of the accommodations, the archive will send the information packet there, and if we intercept it in some way, we'll have the location of the archive right on the envelope. Then we raid the archive, steal the updated files on Hassan and give them to Dorothy piece by piece. Dorothy tells Treize what she knows, for a small fee, and Treize becomes far too concerned with Hassan to take any notice of what we're doing. See?" He paused, and watched for signs of comprehension. "See??"

Lucrezia propped her chin up on one elbow. "Do you lie awake at night thinking up these schemes, or do they just magically come to you while you're brushing your teeth or something?"

Heero glared. "Don't knock the system. The system works."

In the very next moment, Marcus returned to them, unharmed and a bit more chipper than before. "He's a pleasant fellow, your friend! A bit conceited, but who isn't in a place like this? Oh, well...present company most certainly excepted..."

"Right," Heero said, anxious to get on with it. "Did you find out the name of the school?"

Marcus folded his arms and winked once. "He was pretty tight-lipped about that, but I think I've reliably pieced it together from the hints he didn't know he was dropping."

Heero smirked. He knew Byron was too undisciplined to keep his big trap shut. "And?"

"Eton," said Marcus. "Definitely Eton...although I'd like to know how he gets away with spending his afternoons here. The headmaster really ought to have a talk with him about truancy."

That was good enough for Heero, and he felt a surge of vindication as he raised an eyebrow at Lucrezia. She still wasn't sure if this was all such a good idea, but let him have his moment anyway. Pleased to have been of some help, and to have somewhere to go when he was too depressed to loll about his own house, Marcus treated them both to a dessert of their choice, and they graciously accepted, since they had some time to kill before Byron left, making their escape that much simpler.

**********

Earlier that morning, after fleeing up the stairs with his letter, Duo kept looking at the clock obsessively while he changed out of his white uniform, unsure of exactly where he intended to go. He only knew that he had an irresistible urge to leave the manor, just for a little while, and just until he got a few things sorted out in his head. Wanting to look his best, he put on his black frock coat and re-braided his hair as neatly as he could, then tucked the letter on the petal pink paper into his pocket. Finally, he looked at himself in the mirror, really looked, the way he did only once every year or so, and tried to absorb his own age for consideration.

It was something he used to do whenever he had access to a reliable reflective surface, which wasn't often. Not knowing his own birthday had always meant that he had to estimate his age based on memory and looks, and he was never quite sure how old he was supposed to look. Just then, he was wondering if he looked seventeen, and also wondering if seventeen was old enough for a person to know what they truly wanted and needed out of life. Helen didn't seem to think so, hence the disturbing content of her letter. Her words were hurtful, and stabbed Duo straight through the heart, though her underlying tone made it clear that she only wanted what was best for him. Until they could agree on what, precisely, was best, however...

How could she say those things to me? I could've turned out a lot worse than I did, all things considered! I could've been a drunk or a sloth or a murderer!

Well...I don't really think I have it in me to be a murderer...

Anger and hurt feelings only made up a small part of the whirlwind of emotions coursing through him. A large part of the rest of it was guilt, which was the reason behind his sudden urge to escape. He checked the clock for the umpteenth time, and flew down the stairs and out the door before, he was quite sure, Heero had even gotten around to finding his replacement for the day's sleuthing.

Duo walked in the first direction he felt like taking, and got into the first hansom cab he happened across. He asked the driver to pick a direction at random and knew that God would do the rest. The driver chose a favourite leisure route of his that took them across the river to the south, and eventually into the borough of Lambeth, where Duo's pocket money for the ride ran out, save a few coins reserved for a specific purpose. He stepped down, thanked the driver, and wandered until he heard the faint, melodious strains of a congregation singing with one voice, wafting on the snow-laced breeze. Down the road from where he was dropped off, there was a church, precisely what he needed to douse himself with so he could sleep that night.

He crept into the building shortly after mass was underway and sat down somewhere towards the back, dropped his few remaining coins into the collection plate, took his first communion in ages, and sang along for the remainder of the hymns. Catholicism was a wonderful medium in which to experience guilt, and just then Duo was swimming in it. Not only did he have Helen's scathing words beating down on him, but the realization that he hadn't been to confession in over a year, when he had more to confess now than at any other time in his life, also pulled his head down lower and lower, until he was staring at his shoes through the entire sermon.

After the service, when everyone else had left, he was still sitting there, mired in despair and self-recrimination. A young curate eventually came over and quietly asked if he could be of any assistance, and for a moment, Duo was tempted to open his mouth and let all his sins come gushing forth, so that he could feel the pleasant sting of judgement, but he said 'No, thank you,' and left the church.

From there, he actually walked home, a terrible distance to inflict upon a pair of feet that genuinely worked hard every day of the week, and didn't even get the Lord's day off to rest. It took almost the entire afternoon, causing him to miss lunch and skip tea, forcing the manor's residents to fend for themselves for once. The most difficult decision of all, the one that kept his mind occupied all the way back home, was whether or not to tell Heero about the letter. The mountain of worry chilled him from the inside, while the snow and wind churned in the air outside, leaving him a frozen, pitiful wreck by the time he dragged himself up the front walk to the manor.

Then, at the peak of his indecision, an unexpected thing happened. Before Duo made it all the way to the door, shivering and slapping his arms to keep his circulation going, the door opened, and Heero appeared. He looked terribly concerned, which was something Duo hadn't seen enough of, so it was difficult to discern. His jacket was off, as it usually was when he was pacing in thought, and he immediately pulled Duo inside and wrapped their thick plaid blanket around him, telling him how worried he was, and that he should have worn his winter coat. Right away, he shuffled Duo into the parlour, where a roaring fire was already waiting for him, and jumbo-size servings of hot cocoa and soup made a grand entrance soon after, carried in by Hilde on a silver tray. The day was finally looking up.

Heero never scolded him for disappearing without telling anyone where he was going, he was just glad to have his little mouse back, and spent the rest of the evening trying to let him know that. In the midst of the comforting process, he also brought Duo up to speed with regards to Byron and Marcus, and the possibility of finding an archive base, until Duo began to sniffle and sneeze. Heero ordered him immediately to bed.

"I'm not getting sick! I can't possibly get sick! I've got a household to feed!" he griped as he emerged from their ensuite bathroom in his newer custom-made black pajamas. "I can't lie around in bed being sick! It's only 7:30!"

"No arguments," Heero said calmly. "You need your rest." He turned down the covers on the bed and marched Duo right into it, ignoring his mild obstinacy. When he was nicely tucked in, Heero sat casually next to him, turning the lantern on the bedside table down low. "So, where did you go, anyway?"

Duo could tell from the tone of voice that Heero was just taking an interest, not checking up on him. He rolled over on his side and snuggled into his pillow, looking up at him. "I went to Corpus Christi, for mass. Haven't been in awhile, figured...I dunno, like I was way overdue."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"...yeah, I did. I kinda miss it."

"Then you should keep going. We managed without you for dinner, I think we could scrape together breakfast for ourselves once a week."

Duo smiled. "Really?"

"Really..." Heero propped himself up with a pillow, took a book out of the drawer, and flipped open to where he left off the day before. "...but not while you're sick."

"I'm not sick!" Duo suddenly sneezed, then frowned as Heero smirked down at his book. "Alright, alright...do you have to win every argument?"

"Go to sleep."

Sighing, Duo tried to go to sleep, but it was just too early for him, even though it was dark out. He rolled onto his back and twiddled his thumbs, thinking about how nice it was to be taken care of, no matter how much he complained about it. It reminded him of what an incorrigible student he was earlier that day, and he began to think differently about his behaviour. "Hey...this morning...you know I wasn't trying to be mean or anything, right?"

Heero looked down and nodded. "I know."

"Yeah, well...can I have a hug anyway?" he asked, sounding pitiful and repentant as he shoved himself up into a sitting position.

Only too happy to oblige, Heero put down his book and wrapped both arms around Duo, and they both squeezed until they couldn't inhale anymore. Heero let Duo lean against him while he tried to get to sleep, and turned the lantern all the way off to save some light for later. Snuggly warm and totally relaxed, Duo silently decided that he didn't need to tell Heero about the letter from Helen just yet. It could only serve to ruin the perfect serenity they had attained, and nothing would be the same afterwards. Better to keep things they way they are, for now, Duo thought. I'll just have to convince her...I know she won't be happy with me, but I can't do what she asks! I just can't! I'd die!

Duo nuzzled Heero's shoulder playfully, trying to get his mind off the letter. "Hey...when are you gonna tell me what I said this morning?"

"Forget it."

"Aw, come on, I wanna know!"

"Too bad."

"How about tomorrow?"

"How about never?"

"Oh, yeah?"

In an instant, the evening went from a calming time of convalescence to an all-out pillow war that eventually resulted in a cascading snowfall of feathers all over the floor and the bed. They didn't stop to think of the noise they were making, laughing and brawling like two children in a playpen, or that someone passing by their door might hear them and wonder, but neither did Heero worry that Duo wasn't getting his rest. After all, laughter could be very good for the immune system.


~~~~~~~~~~

Next, in Episode Sixty-Seven: A team heads to Eton College, hoping to snatch some information from Byron's living space, while Duo stays home and opens up to Hilde about his mystery letter.

Heeeee. =^-^= Does anyone have a mental picture of this "Byron" person yet? If not, I may have to provide some...visual references. =^_~= And about the language lesson...*chuckles* What did Heero say to Duo that make him stop and think? What did Duo say to Heero that made him hoarse from laughing? I think I'll let you find that out on your own, and forgive Duo for his mediocre grammar, but we wanted to make it as easy as possible for people to research the joke. *blushie* I'm so bad! *cough* Now, I know it'll seem like a long way away, but next eppy will be out on December 5th, to accommodate Rachel's exams. (Rachel: Oh great. Blame me. :P) See you all then!