Warning: Shounen-ai content, and some..."suggestiveness".
Disclaimer: These characters are used and abused without permission. But they enjoy it. =^_~=
Note: Due to scheduling screw-ups on my own part, the release dates of each episode may not exactly match the story dates listed after the literary quotation. Problems at home caused me to get out of sequence, but that hasn't changed what I believe should be the proper chronological flow of the story. Maybe I'll be able to get synchronized again, but if I don't, it's no biggie. Just wanted to let you all know. =^_~=
~~~~~~~~~~Episode Eighty-Nine: Fly By Night
"All human joys are swift of wing, for heaven doth so allot it; That when you get an easy thing, you find you haven't got it." ~Eugene FieldAugust 5th, 1903
Long after he was exhausted, Heero kept running. After dropping Shadow off at the manor, he realized suddenly that he was homeless, and that even if he found some puny corner of London to rest his head that night, he couldn't stay there for long. On top of that, he felt as if there were fiendish eyes following him everywhere he went. All the drunken vagrants, all the ladies of ill repute, all the thieves hiding in black alleys seemed to be watching, staring as if they knew him. The eerie, stomach-turning sensation stayed with him all the way to the newspaper office, where he broke in without a trace to curl up on the bare floor of the storage room. It turned out to be a long night.
Long before Heero got to an unsettled sleep, Duo was wringing his hands with grief and worry. He was kept at the house very late, late enough for Arthur to come tapping at the back door with Shadow in one arm before Duo could even entertain thoughts of going to the pub. The carpenter showed him the parephernalia that had been thrown over the back wall. Then Duo went straight to Catherine's in a panic and found their shared room torn to shreds, drawers emptied, clothes strewn about, and even the mattress overturned. The agents had taken their frustrations out on the furniture at not finding Heero where he was supposed to be.
The next day, it began to rain, a hard, driving rain that dragged the moisture-soaked air from the clouds down to ground level, where it was just warm enough to create a thick fog in between bouts of torrential downpour. Duo worried terribly that Heero had no place to go, and that he didn't have the necessary skills to live successfully as a hobo, but later that afternoon he was given a glimmer of hope by a hand-delivered item that arrived by the back door to the kitchen. A messenger boy brought Duo a copy of a small-town newspaper from the Camden neighbourhood, and Duo gradually recognized it as the one Heero worked for. Leaving Merlyn to tend to the lunch arrangements, he secluded himself in the cold storage room and read the whole thing from front to back, searching for a clue.
He found it in the agony column, and Heero's situation became clearer. He was apparently still working, and his position as proofreader allowed him to slip the occasional doctored item into the newspaper without detection. A small ad in the lonely hearts section read as follows:
violet eyes and long brown tail,
miss him terribly."
Sitting on the floor of the cold storage, Duo clutched the newspaper to his chest and smiled with relief. Heero was safe, for the moment, and even able to communicate in a roundabout way. For the next several days, Duo walked to the adjacent borough and bought a copy of that newspaper every morning, scouring the classified ads for more clues and hidden messages. He was even able to answer back by sending his own ads in, knowing that they would land on Heero's desk bright and early each day. With this system, they were able to talk without being in the same room, and plans were soon made that the whole of London might read, but would never understand.
**********The first telegram of the day on August the 5th was delivered as early as the milk and the newspaper, and its destination was Lady Une's mansion. Being in constant communication with his underlings spread throughout Britain, Treize attacked the front door before the clanging tones of the doorbell could dissipate down the many halls and staircases, anticipating the good news he had been waiting for. As he opened the envelope and read the telegram, he smiled. Very good news indeed.
Pride made him want to share his news with someone, but the only person in the house he could trust was his fiancée, and she found all the swashbuckling espionage stuff rather boring. Nevertheless, he sought her out, and located her in her pink and gold dressing room, having the first fitting of her costly imported wedding gown. "Darling?" he called as he rapped the back of his clenched hand against the door.
"Don't come in, you fool!" Lady Une's panicky voice called back.
Treize rolled his eyes and barged in anyway. His bride to be was standing in front of a three-way mirror in a satiny white mutton-sleeved dress with a long train and yards of lace spread out from the collar to the floor. Alfonse, her wardrobe consultant, was fluttering around her effortlessly, nipping in handfuls of fabric and pinning them in place. "You're at it a bit early, aren't you?" the Count remarked.
Une scowled at his reflection. "Idiot...it's bad luck to see the bride in her gown before the wedding."
"If I'm paying for it, I should get to see it whenever I like," Treize snarked, walking up behind her.
"I don't know about these Swiss dressmakers of yours," Une sneered with displeasure, tugging at the high collar that was presently choking her. "Seems a bit too conservative for my taste."
"You can tart yourself up as much as you like between now and the wedding, but first I must tell you some wonderful news..." He began unfolding the telegram but paused, glaring at the young man who was crouched at his love's feet, judging how much the dress should be hemmed. He cleared his throat gruffly.
Upon hearing this noise and seeing the way Treize was looking at her attendant, Une laughed and shoved him in the shoulder. "Oh, you can talk in front of Alfonse, don't be silly! Just make it quick, darling, I have a hair appointment before lunch."
He wasn't altogether happy, but Treize conceded that Alfonse, who did nothing but mince around the place babbling about the latest ladies' fashions and his own needlework projects, wasn't much of a security risk. The Count excitedly told a very bored Une about his upcoming feat, the disaster he planned to orchestrate for Cinq's amusement, and the details of which had just been confirmed by his outside agents. Une listened out of politeness but didn't take any of it in; she never had truly grasped the seriousness of Treize's goal in life, for anything to do with politics or world affairs was, in her opinion, quite tiresome. While the plan was put forth, Alfonse kept his head down, pinning fabric until all was completed, and then he left to fetch something he needed from the linen closet in the hall.
Alfonse looked over his shoulder nervously once or twice as he padded away from the dressing room in his royal purple embroidered slippers. He felt rather unfortunate, in some ways, to be living under that particular roof, but it was too late to escape. Trying to act normal, he opened the door to the linen cupboard and took out a few miscellaneous items, eventually thinking that he just might make it through the day without any serious shocks. And then he closed the door.
Dorothy was standing behind it. Alfonse gasped and nearly dropped what he was carrying as the girl leaned in close with a catty smile. "Hello, Alfonse," she purred, looking quite glamourous in a dress of pale green silk with her flaxen hair draped elegantly down her front, accentuating every curve. She looked much healthier than she did a week ago. "Do you have anything for me yet?"
Alfonse trembled with fear. This delicate young lady had hopelessly ensnared him into a myriad of evil dealings that he wanted nothing to do with. She followed him out of the house once. She knew where he went on his days off. She knew whose company he kept when he spent his nights elsewhere. She knew that Alfonse was the frequent, secret, and most definitely illegal lover of a prominent male wrestler, and if Alfonse didn't do exactly as Dorothy said, she promised to expose them both.
There was no other option. Alfonse took Dorothy aside and told her everything he heard Treize say in the dressing room.
**********The rain persisted for days and days, beginning as a vertical flood and slowing to a depressing drizzle as summer showed its true colours. Duo kept a careful eye on the weather, and his other eye on Otto and Bertram Augustus, as they seemed to be planning something. Through careful eavesdropping, the chef learned that the two men would be absent on a particular day to attend a large estate auction to the south. They were planning on purchasing some pieces of art such as vases and paintings to be placed in Sutherby House, which was nearly ready for its official opening as a hotel and health spa. They would be gone all day, which made it slightly safer for Heero to visit Bridlewood without fear of the police being called. Duo successfully persuaded the women of the household that they deserved a girls' day out and that they wouldn't be caught skiving off work if the authority figures were ninety miles away in Hampshire. The ladies agreed and hit the town, with Hilde's assurance that she would keep them occupied as long as possible, leaving Duo, Quatre, and Trowa alone in the house.
The other two were off attending to matters of their own, so Duo didn't make a point of telling them that Heero was hopefully on his way. Instead he silently planted himself by the front parlour window, anxiously waiting. He didn't know what sort of tricks Heero would have to pull in order to elude the agents that were most certainly watching the manor every hour of the day, but he couldn't wait to find out.
Out of nowhere, Heero came jogging down the street in his older black suit, having long ago been thoroughly drenched en route to the manor. The front door opened for him automatically, and Duo poked his head out to marvel at how easily Heero was able to jaunt up the steps unimpeded. Nobody was watching him, nobody followed him, and it was smooth sailing for once in a large number of days. Panting from his extended sprint across town, Heero stopped as far as the mat just on the other side of the door, leaned forward with his hands on his knees, and caught his breath while dripping profusely from every limb.
Duo gawked once more at the lack of agents outside, shut the door, and bear hugged Heero as soon as he straightened up, not caring about getting soaking wet as well. "How did you do that!?" he hollered. "They're not all afraid of a little summer shower, are they?"
After chuckling and peeling Duo off him, Heero wiped half a gallon of water off his face and slicked-down hair, shaking droplets onto the mat as he glanced across the room. "Well, you know...you meet a lot of interesting people in the newspaper industry...for instance, I just recently made the acquaintance of a very lovely girl working at the Times..."
Duo smirked. "Uh oh..."
"...and after a few glasses of wine, she was more than agreeable to the idea of planting a false news item in today's edition," Heero finished. "As far as anyone chasing me knows, the Crown Prince Nakamura is making a series of royal visits across Europe, and theoretically arrived in London early this morning. Every agent within fifty miles is camped outside Buckhingham Palace looking for me, in case I throw myself on the Prince's mercy and beg him to take me back to Japan with him."
While Heero dragged off his sopping wet jacket, Duo marvelled at the scope and simple elegance of the ruse. "...there's a Crown Prince Nakamura?"
Heero shrugged as the tie came off next. "I don't know that there isn't one, and I don't expect the average agent does either. Hardly matters in any case, because by the time they realize they've been had, I'll be safely back at the office." A smug smile appeared on his face, and as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his socks squished loudly in his shoes, and Duo broke down laughing. Their situation was both sad and ludicrous. It felt like some kind of boiling point was fast approaching, and with increased stress levels came a desperate need to let go of the moment, to separate themselves from ugly realities and retreat to their quiet place, but it didn't stay quiet for long until the cold and the rain finally got to Heero, and he sneezed.
"Aww...poor baby," Duo coddled sarcastically, and he let Heero lean against him while he struggled to remove his shoes and socks. "I predict a hot bath in your future. You go pick yourself out one of the more expensive bathrooms upstairs, and I'll start some water boiling."
Grunting and sniffling a bit, Heero nodded. "Maybe that's best."
Duo worked hard to take the very best care of his friend, otherwise he might well have caught an awful cold from the inclement weather. He found some dry clothes while Heero was scrubbing himself down in the tub, and hung the wet clothes up to dry in the laundry room. Then he poured no less than three cups of hot cocoa down Heero's throat in front of a roaring fire, and the ex-butler didn't know what to make of being so vigorously pampered after spending so many nights on the office floor. Usually when Heero wanted to pay Duo back for his regular everyday kindness, he brought him some candy, but living rough didn't allow for such luxuries, so he had to think for a bit until he remembered something else he was good at besides counting out lemon drops and licorice whips into little brown paper bags. He beckoned Duo to follow, and led him to the parlour.
"I want to show you something," he said in answer to Duo's questioning glance. In the parlour was the same piano Heero had tinkered with at Christmas, and when he inspected the padded piano bench, he found that it opened up in the same way that the one at Catherine's did, and that there was music inside. Duo watched quizzically as Heero flipped through the crinkly paper leaves and pulled out something by Chopin, propping it up on the stand above the keyboard. Then he closed the bench back up and invited Duo to sit next to him, which he did, all the while bursting with curiosity about what would happen next.
With a quiet sense of pride, Heero laid both hands on the keyboard and began to play. It was the most astonishing thing Duo had ever heard. The automaton mind that couldn't fathom how to sing hymns at a church service less than a year ago was now pealing forth with a beautiful, multi-tonal melody that seemed to have descended from heaven itself. Washed over with deep relaxation, Duo gradually leaned his head on Heero's shoulder, and it stayed there for the duration of the song. When the last chord faded, Duo sat back up to hear whatever Heero had to say about this miraculous transformation, and the work he must have put into it over the weeks. "They used to leave me alone for days at a stretch...to test my mental stamina," he stated with an eyebrow shrug, and then a smile. "Now I get bored so fast."
'Wow' was all Duo could think, all he could hear, and all he showed on his face. "That's really something. I mean, not just for you, but for anyone."
"Do you like it?"
"Hell, yeah." Duo more than liked it, he was completely besotted. Suddenly he had to get himself as close as possible to this new incarnation of his friend, and it gave him a wicked impulse. The chef smiled and looked down, feigning shyness. "They just painted our old room, y'know...this real ugly white that's identical to the old white except there's no mildew." The smile grew as he slipped an arm around Heero's waist and squeezed, leaning into his side. "Wanna see it?"
Heero could tell from that smile that if they went upstairs now, watching paint dry would be the last thing they'd do. He smiled too. "Hell, yeah." And then they tip-toed up to the attic together.
**********Lucrezia and Milliardo couldn't even talk anymore without arguing. Their vastly different opinions on how to approach the Cinq problem made it impossible for them to share even the most basic of conversations, and Lucrezia had even stopped sleeping in the same room with him in protest. Now they were sitting opposite each other in the private parlour, avoiding eye contact at all cost. Sutherby House had endured a long series of renovations and come out sparkling, and among the improvements added were extra walls and doors on each level, meant to separate the family's living space from the more public areas. It was in this sanctuary that Lucrezia and Milliardo sat and ignored each other for at least a small part of every day.
They perched in identical brown suede art deco lounge chairs, with the lady pretending to enjoy flipping through a fashion magazine and the gentleman feigning interest in the local newspaper. Everything they could have said had already been said, but the battle waged on, trapped inside their own minds.
Every few pages, Lucrezia glanced up at him. I'm not going to shout anymore, because I know you won't hear me anyway. You've done nothing but talk at me, but you never tell me what I want to know, like why you think it's your job to save the whole world. And you have all these noble goals...which is fine, except for the way you go about chasing them. Joining these madmen is the worst possible thing you could do. How do you know you'll be able to stay objective? To set yourself apart? To avoid really becoming one of them? I'm so afraid for you...I'm afraid that once you get a taste of true power..... She couldn't bring herself to even think about what might happen. It was too painful to consider.
On his side of the room, Milliardo also looked up from his reading material, carrying on his own point of view in a similar fashion. How do I get through to you? I didn't choose this battle, but I can't possibly walk away. I'm not so unfeeling, so irresponsible that I would lie down and let these people play puppeteer with millions of lives. 'In the world, but not of the world'...that's the key. There's no possible way to bring them down from the outside, it can't be done. If these men have eluded the police, the military, the governments of the entire world for so long, a few people beating on the door with sticks aren't going to make one bit of difference. I have to become one of them...there is no other way.
They were both so engrossed in declaring themselves the victor of their mental skirmish that they didn't notice the doorbell, or the entrance of Otto and the new butler, with Pegan showing the way into the parlour. Not paying attention to what day it was, Milliardo looked up with slight surprise, and frowned. "What are you two doing here?"
Otto approached his master with faint meekness, as if not wanting to upset the young man quite yet. "We're just stopping off here for a cup of tea before heading out to the coast." When Milliardo failed to display recognition of what Otto was talking about, he leaned forward a little, arching his eyebrows. "The estate auction?"
A disinterested dawn crossed Milliardo's face, and he nodded, straightening out his newspaper with a crackle. "Yes, I...do recall that, now."
"Is there anything in particular you'd like us to look for?" Otto asked obseqiously.
"Everything pertaining to redecoration is Relena's responsibility," Milliardo replied blandly, and he went back to his local news as quickly as he had been dragged away from it.
Off in the corner, Pegan and Bertram Augustus introduced themselves to one another and mutually retreated to look after the arrangements for morning tea, but Otto could not follow. The strange aloofness shown to him by his employer was disturbing, and it hadn't started just then, either. Milliardo had been giving Otto the cold shoulder for some time now, and he couldn't work out why; he would have liked to discuss it with him, but didn't feel comfortable with Lucrezia in the same room. To her credit, Lucrezia picked up on this vibe, and got up and left of her own volition, giving Otto the space he needed to lay out his thoughts in a straight line. The burly house steward stepped a bit closer to Milliardo's chair, and cleared his throat gently. "Sir..."
"Spit it out," said Milliardo.
"These...'plans' of yours.......I'm always available if you need me in any way."
Young Master Peacecraft looked up at last, narrowing his eyes with a half-smile that didn't look friendly at all. "That's very interesting. And in what capacity would you most like to serve?"
"Well...in whatever capacity you see fit, sir. It's not for me to choose, and I know how important this is to you...to all of us." The awkward pause grated on Otto's nerves, and his voice sharpened suddenly. "Your family has nothing but my utmost loyalty, you know that!"
Milliardo set the newspaper aside and stood, glowering horribly at his servant. "Do I?" This time, Otto wore the confused expression, but Milliardo wasn't buying it. "Why do you think I've assigned you to mind the children while we conduct mission operations from here? Uncle Treize had limited power when he first arrived in England. Some of what he did, he couldn't have done without help."
Otto's stomach lurched. Since he had clammed up pretty solidly about his erstwhile partnership with Treize, and since the lad wasn't communicating with his uncle himself, there was no way of knowing how much Milliardo knew or from whom he heard it. "I swear to you, I did not know his true motives at the time! My only thoughts were for Relena's safety, and he helped me watch over her!"
"Ignorance is just as deadly as malice, Otto. I can't afford a liability like you right now." With that, Milliardo sat back down and returned to his newspaper, the subject closed. "You'll be late for your auction."
Irreversibly crushed, Otto retreated from the parlour in shame. All his years of loyal service to the family, full of sacrifice and stress, suddenly counted for nothing. He had lost the trust of his most valuable ally, possibly forever. At some point during their exchange, the doorbell rang again, but they didn't hear it. Some moments after Otto disappeared dejectedly down the hall, thinking that he might as well not bother speaking to his employer on a personal level ever again, Relena entered the parlour. She was pleased to find her brother all alone, for she had something very exciting to share, in the form of a telegram that had just been delivered to the front door. It was from Dorothy, but she wasn't about to tell him that.
"I have news," she cooed sweetly, waving the telegram around like a little flag.
"I could use some about now," her brother groaned.
"It's from a contact I've established in Lady Une's mansion," she declared secretively, unwilling to reveal her source. "Once you've had a look at it, I think I should send the details to our friends in London right away."
She gave him the telegram, and he read it over thoroughly. At the end, he looked up with fierce eyes. It was just the break they needed after failing so badly in Leeds. The siblings locked gazes and traded sinister smiles as they realized they were both thinking the same thing: Their window of glory was fast approaching, and this time, nothing would stand in their way.
**********A long time passed after the boys crept upstairs to their old room. At first the rain intensified, beating against the window with inch-thick drops, but then, as if mimicking the scene indoors, after building up to a thundering climax, the weather settled itself. Soft, misty trickles of water replaced the storm, and outside the birds began to sing their thanks for the refreshing shower.
The sweet, warbling songs wafted up to the attic and slowly nudged the boys awake. They were curled up on their old bed, the rickety iron-framed double-sized bunk which had been stripped down to the mattress while the room was painted. Both were lying on their right sides, bare from the waist up with Heero lazily holding onto Duo from behind. Whatever had occured prior to the rain slowing down, they had somehow managed to switch trousers, which were unnaturally rumpled. Duo's hair had been freed from its braid and lay in a tumble beneath him, and Heero appeared equally mussed-up. A faint but pleasant floral fragrance was also drifing around the tiny room, emanating from something that had rolled under the bed after being deliberately dropped when it was no longer needed, but the details of the boys' environment all blurred together until they were no longer recognizable as small parts of a larger whole. The climate of blissful euphoria took care of that.
Stirring out of sleep, Heero spontaneously yawned, and then reached a little further around Duo's chest to pull him closer. Duo squeaked softly in his mouse-like way and clutched Heero's arm with one hand while shielding his eyes from the light with the other. As Heero became steadily more aware of their time and circumstance, he yawned again and brushed some hair away from Duo's ear with his nose. "You know what time they get back?" he whispered.
"...mmmrr.....no," Duo mumbled back drowsily.
Heero's inner cynic scoffed quietly. "It'd make sense...for them to walk back in.....right when everything's perfect." Then it grew in volume, reminding him that every lovely thing that was happening that day was just window dressing for the life of a fugitive. When he walked out the front door later on, he would become hopelessly miserable once again, perpetually on edge from the threats that surrounded him on all sides. A sensuous afternoon romp with Duo was quite pleasant, but it was by no means a permanent solution. "It's not perfect," he muttered depressingly.
"...mmh...we're all doing our best," Duo mumbled further.
While Duo was probably just lying there angelically without a care in the world, Heero started thinking about all the things he had done in the past that might have contributed to his current predicament. Being out in the real world taught him a great deal about cause and effect, more than mere training ever could, and as he mulled over his own actions, a single theme became piercingly clear, and he thought to himself that it just might be the cause of all his problems. "I use people."
Duo blinked, then twisted his head back to look at him out of the corner of his eye. "Hell of a time to get introspective on me," he said, rolling over onto his left side "So you use people. That's, like...your job. You have to do it."
They both propped themselves up on one elbow, and Heero looked down at the bed, feeling suddenly unworthy to look Duo in the eye. "Not all the time. But I do it anyway. When I left Catherine's, it was four days until my next paycheque, and most of my money was in the top drawer of the bureau, but I had enough to get by without starving...and I saw this little brunette coming out of a bakery. I wasn't hungry, not really hungry, the way you must have been...but I still went up to her and turned on the charm. Talked her out of two Eccles cakes and a hot sausage roll." He slowly sighed, and then looked up at last. "Why would I do that?"
Duo's face contorted into the hands-free equivalent of scratching his head and pacing in a puzzled way, then he made an educated guess with apologetic eyes. "Because you could?"
"That's right. And I'll be honest with you, there have been several days lately when I haven't liked myself very much as a result." Something new appeared in Heero's deck of doubts. Duo saw it, and Heero saw it reflected in his eyes. "I manipulate people because I can, and when you do something so often without even thinking.....you..."
He couldn't finish, but he didn't have to. Duo smirked widely and pulled his hair off to one side as he leaned in closer, making sure that Heero couldn't look away. "Are you worried that you're using me right now?" he asked. "Lemmie tell ya something," he added when he didn't get an answer right away. He sat up cross-legged and started a new braid as he lectured. "This could be exactly why we get along so well, because you can't twist me in eight different directions like you can other people. You know darn well that those goo-goo eyes and pretty words won't work on me, and they never will. Go on...say to me what you said to that brunette. Try it!"
Heero sat up in the same way and faced Duo, always up for a challenge. He cleared his throat, rubbed his hands together briskly, and knit his brow as if calculating his opening attack, just as if Duo was any other bit of fluff walking down the street, a weak mind ripe for the plucking. But he couldn't move or speak. He blinked at Duo for awhile, then tried several times to say something, each time stopping short of emitting any sound. No less than a dozen times, he changed his mind on which line to throw him, but in the end, he caved under the pressure of Duo staring at him expectantly, and collapsed forward with a sniggering laugh, which infected Duo almost immediately. "I can't!" he exclaimed.
"Why not?" Duo shot back while laughing.
Calming himself down but still grinning slightly, Heero looked to either side as he thought. The answer was so simple that he couldn't even justify the breath necessary to verbalize it. The bonds of respect and affection would keep him in line, and he needn't have feared the insurgence of lies from other parts of his life. His gaze softened. "I just can't."
Having gotten the unspoken answer loud and clear, Duo tied off the end of his braid and let it dangle back into place. "So what have you been eating besides second-hand pastries?"
"Nothing yet that can hold a candle to your cooking," Heero said, and he meant it in earnest.
"I just had a thought," Duo said in a sly tone that quickly transmuted into a colourful sales pitch. "There's this big inch-thick steak sitting in the icebox, and it was supposed to be Otto's dinner, but I think I should tell him that it looked a little green and I had to dispose of it elsewhere...you hungry?"
Heero's eyes lit up, and his stomach threatened to start growling loudly at the merest mention of a home-cooked meal. "With those little roasted potatoes, and that cheddar mushroom sauce?"
"And peach cobbler for dessert," Duo added teasingly.
".....I don't deserve you," Heero sighed happily.
"Well, we all need a goal to shoot for," Duo snarked, and they chuckled to themelves as they cleaned up the room to disguise their presence before heading downstairs for another well-deserved luxury.
**********It was just about the time when the rain let up that Quatre made it back to the manor, his mood dampened beyond the capabilities of mere water. The news from his sisters was not good, and he carried a copied-out telegram as proof of that fact. Having the good sense to take an umbrella along, only the cuffs of his trousers were wet when he walked back in through the kitchen door. He knew Merlyn and the housemaids were out somewhere, but didn't really notice why, and they were the last people he needed to talk to anyway. Tossing the folded umbrella in the corner next to the hat stand, he marched straight into his and Trowa's bedroom, only to lose his train of thought to a bizarre surprise.
Trowa was lying down flat on a narrow bench with no back, hefting a barbell with round metal weights up as far as he could reach and then down to his nose, then back again. In fact, there was an awful lot of new toys in the room, all geared toward weightlifting. Even his clothes were different, the green and beige having been replaced with loose-fitting tawny brown trousers and a white sleeveless kind of shirt that provided the ventilation and mobility needed for a good workout. Quatre swallowed; suddenly his bedroom was a gymnasium. "Um..."
"Be with you in a sec," Trowa blurted out in a hasty breath, and he grimaced with the effort of placing the bar back on its stand. Quatre glanced at the white numbers painted on each of the metal discs attached to the bar and added it up to be more than a hundred pounds. His eyebrows flicked upward as Trowa sat up, reached for a towel, and daubed at his face and neck with it. "What do you think?"
Quatre looked at the barbells, the dumbbells, the jump rope, the boxing gloves, and the heavy bag which had no place to hang and was lying on its side against the wall with the window, and was befuddled. "First tell me what it is."
Trowa shrugged. "Just a whim. It dawned on me that I'm always saving my money but I never buy anything with it. Duo buys kitchen gadgets, and you buy books...I thought it was time to get something for myself, that's all." He accompanied his declaration with a rare toothy grin, indicating genuine enthusiasm for something other than animals and sitting quietly. It was unnecessary to admit that he might have enjoyed looking like some of the nude models in the big black book, and that it was this feeling of inadequacy that drove him to seek out exercise equipment. He figured if Quatre really wanted to know, he could find out for himself just as easily. "Out for a walk?"
"Out talking to my sisters," Quatre corrected dully, pulling a folded piece of paper from his pocket. "We've got a problem...or an opportunity, however you want to look at it."
His tone of voice was reason enough to pause for thought. "Is this something we should discuss with Heero?"
Quatre's eyes bugged out. "He's here? When did he get here? Why didn't anyone tell me?"
Trowa shrugged with a 'What are you asking me for?' look. "I don't know how long he's been hanging around, but I just saw him and Duo out back a few minutes ago, while I was getting a drink."
They looked at each other, then looked at the door at the same moment that they heard someone coming in through the kitchen, picking up some things, and walking back out again. The pair went out in unison and saw Duo and Heero, as advertised, walking with armfuls of stuff toward the back of the property, and they seemed to be aiming for Arthur's cottage. It was getting pretty near tea time, so it was odd for Duo not to be at his post, fixing a meal for everybody. Being of one mind, Trowa and Quatre decided to follow them, and upon reaching the cottage, they saw that a whole outdoor barbeque had been set up, with a charcoal grill and everything. Hearing the crunch of dried grass behind him, Duo turned around after setting a box full of meat packed in ice down on a table Arthur had set up with barrels all around to sit on, and grinned at seeing the pair. "Hey! Great! Saves me the trouble of calling you to the table. Pull up a barrel!"
The two boys were too stunned to answer right away. Since they were the only ones home at the present, Duo and Arthur had gone to an awful lot of trouble to prepare a special treat just for them. There were fresh salads, pitchers of lemonade and iced tea, and the soothing shade of the old growth trees on either side of the brick wall. Not only that, but the sun was coming out at last. "What's all this?" Quatre asked in disbelief.
"Cookout!" Duo cheered. "Away from the prying eyes, and such. You want a lamb kebab?"
It all looked very tempting, with Arthur already grilling slabs of every conceivable animal to Duo's specifications. Heero was already halfway through what appeared to be a generous steak, which he must have needed very badly, judging by the rate at which he consumed it. Still, Quatre didn't have much of an appetite yet. "I don't think I'll be able to eat until I tell you all what I found out today..."
"Does this have to be right now?" Heero moaned around a mouthful of beef. "First cooked meal I've had in ages...I'm not ready to think about work yet."
Still clutching his precious piece of paper, Quatre perched his hands on his hips and scowled. "I'm surprised at you! Since when do you put eating ahead of important breakthroughs pertaining to the mission!?"
"Since he hasn't heard what it is yet," Trowa remarked, reaching for a plate to put his first pork chop on.
"Aw, sit yeself doon an' have somethin' to eat before th' rain starts up agin!" said Arthur, turning over some sausages to make room for the kebab.
Eventually, the sight of everyone lounging around on barrel chairs and stuffing their faces depressed Quatre to the point that he gave in, and sat down to start picking at a bowl of fresh coleslaw. The sight of his pitiful self agonizing over being ignored got to Heero, and he put his fork down at last. "Alright, what have you found out?"
Swiftly recharged, Quatre shot straight up in his seat and leaned over the table with fresh enthusiasm. "I went to visit the girls as usual, and Yasmeen had just gotten a telegram from Relena. They weren't going to tell me about it, but Hessa's very guilt-ridden right now, so she secretly copied it out for me. Relena got it from someone who got it directly from Treize, and no one at any level thinks that the information stopped at their front door." He unfolded the paper in his hands, but didn't turn it over to anyone, wanting to verbally cushion the blow somehow. "Treize has scheduled his feat, and Milliardo is going to try and steal it away from him. If we intervene soon enough, we can stop them both from doing something really terrible."
Duo looked up while dishing himself out some macaroni salad to go with his frankfurter. "How terrible? And keep in mind that we've all seen terrible, we know what it looks like."
Quatre passed the note across the table to Heero, and waited while he read the first two lines bearing the name of a location somewhere in England. "This is the target...a railway tunnel to the west. There's a single track that runs through it, and it mostly hauls cargo to and from Wales. Treize's plan is to divert a passenger train through the tunnel at the same time as a cargo train will be headed in from the opposite direction...and deliberately crash them together."
Trowa seemed unconvinced, and didn't respond until he'd swallowed a healthy-sized mouthful. "Sounds like a tall order to me. Is he sure he can do it?"
"Actually, it's not all that uncommon. I stopped off at the library on the way home and picked up some figures...wish I didn't have to know about this stuff..." From the other pocket, Quatre produced a smaller piece of paper, ripped out of a notebook, with some facts jotted onto it by the librarian. "Since 1842, there's been an average of one major railway disaster every year in Britain, including four tunnel collapses, thirteen derailments and over forty collisions. When you find out just how easily these sort of accidents can happen, it's not too hard to think of someone planning one on purpose."
They ate quietly for a little while longer, speaking little and watching Shadow chase a moth around a small patch of lawn while the depth of the problem sank in. In the past, Heero would have needed to rally support from his troops, but after what they had all been through together, he knew he had it regardless. As he looked around at everyone's faces, he didn't see questions about what they should or shouldn't do, but curiosity about how soon they could get started. On the telegram copy was a date and a place, committing them to act or be acted upon, and for once there were no doubts, at least among those assembled. The problem was, in Heero's view, how to co-ordinate a team effort when he couldn't even gather his team in the same place without endangering all their lives. Now the enemy agents following him were a serious inconvenience.
**********As much as Heero wanted to stay right where he was, he knew it was too dangerous. The agents would be returning to their surveillance posts, and he had to get back to the newspaper office before his escape routes were blocked. He left soon after dinner, while it was still light out, to best ensure that he would disappear before Otto returned, and it worked.
The most difficult part of his trek was putting the pleasant memories of the day out of his mind. They were very distracting, and any drop in his focus might have caused him to not see someone tailing him, or to miss an important shortcut. No such incidents occurred, but it didn't come without a cost. In his effort to find a place in his mind where he could achieve total focus, he stumbled across something he hadn't heard himself think in a long time.
'Peace comes from harmony...'
Heero slowed his gait, glancing around him as if someone else had spoken the words aloud. He saw no one but a few ordinary citizens daring to step out of their shops and homes while there was a brief pause in the rain. Thinking it might have just been a stray thought that would not re-occur, he kept on walking, but in a few moments' time he fell into the same trap, and the internal voice spoke again.
'...harmony comes from oneness...oneness comes from obedience...'
He stopped in an alley and flattened himself against a brick wall. Now let's get one thing straight, he told himself, hoping that the part of him making that annoying noise would hear him. Dredging up Jeffrhyss' old nonsense isn't going to do one bit of good. I like it here. I'm not going back, and there's nothing you can do or say to make me change my mind. A long silence followed, long enough to convince him that the intrusion was over. That's better. And he kept on walking.
When he neared the newspaper office, he was thinking more about arranging his next day off than about what he might find when he got there, and so he was taken somewhat by surprise. From two blocks away, he saw strangers hanging around the brownstone building, and their general manner suggested that they weren't cub reporters comparing notes. Then more men joined them from across the street. There were no fewer than a dozen cold-faced men wandering around the outside of the building, checking the doors and windows, casing the surrounding edifices, even climbing the drainpipes to get a look inside. A sinking feeling built up in Heero's stomach as he realized they must be agents.
...I'm too late...I've got nowhere to go now...
As he turned around and walked inconspicuously away, he knew his time was running out. He didn't want to go back to his old life, but if this siege of unfriendly agents persisted, the odds of having a choice would continue to decrease. Now he couldn't go to the pub, or the manor, and in a few days he would lose his job due to an extended an unexplained absense which his employer would misconstrue as quitting. That meant no more notes to Duo. No more money for food. No more safe sleep. No more anything.
~~~~~~~~~~
Next, in Episode Ninety: Treize and Milliardo simultaneously go after the same deadly goal, and Heero's team is on the scene to interfere, but it may be the end of the line for one of its members.
So...living in England? Heh heh heh...hot enough for ya!? XD ...I'm sorry, that was mean, but you're having the kind of summer I want, and I'm having the kind of summer you expected. Rain, rain, and more rain. My dinner's cold, so I'll keep this short. Next episode will be August 21st. Don't miss it. Seriously.
(*HINT*: ...Heero's in deep sh*t next week.)