TITLE:  Returning (5/?)

AUTHOR: Tari Gwaemir

PAIRINGS: 1+6; implied 6+13/13+6, 5+13, 3+4/4+3, 2+1

ARCHIVE:  Email me at tarigwaemir@hotmail.com first, but I always say yes.

DISCLAIMER:  Gundam Wing doesn't belong to me, but is owned by Bandai, Sotsu, Sunrise and other big companies, whose names I do not remember.  I make no money from this piece of fanfiction, nor do I intend to.

SUMMARY:  A Gundam Wing tribute to the narrative style of The Dispossessed, by Ursula K. LeGuin

COMMENTS:  Confusing but important subplots ahead, despite the fact that this chapter is almost entirely dialogue.

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Chapter 5: A Renegade

Heero walked into the poorly lit room, exactly ten minutes late. It was a peculiar brand of punctuality, arriving at the moment when the other person was beginning to be slightly apprehensive about whether you would show up at all. But Odin had taught him that people are easiest to read when they are nervous and jittery, and putting them off-balance from the start helped you pick up more than they intended to reveal.

He placed his laptop on the table, opened it, began to type, without once looking up at the men standing in the room. All dressed in black business suits, with stylish sunglasses of course--utterly useless considering the fact that he couldn't make out their faces anyway in the dim light, which was the way it was intended to be. Some stereotypes never changed. Heero resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Finally, one of the men in suits stepped forward and sat down across the table. "Odin Lowe, reputed to be one of the best professionals in the L1 underworld, said to be not only living up to his father's name, but even surpassing it. Yet you are only a boy."

"I am who I am." The unspoken words: Take it or leave it--your chance to use the best of the best.

"I see, Lowe-san."

Heero continued typing, quickly scanned the screen, then finally met the man's eyes. "It is customary for the client to state his request first, Hideki-san."

A pause. "I am not Hideki Yoruhito."

"No. You are Hideki Yasujiro. Nice to meet you."

"...Nani?"

"Foolish of Hideki-san to send a member of the clan, even if he is only an expendable cousin. Of course, it does explain the size of your escort."

"I...I am not Hideki Yasujiro, Lowe-san. To you, I am simply the representative of Hideki Intercolonial." He held out his hand.

Heero briefly glanced at the outstretched palm and ignored it. "Hai, Hideki-san."

Hideki Yasujiro frowned, but decided to refrain from further protests. Heero's face was carefully blank, but his eyes were narrowed in amusement.

The man cleared his throat. "As you may know, Hideki Intercolonial is the second-largest business conglomerate in space. No business group on Earth even begins to rival our size. We have only one rival--"

"Winner Enterprises."

"Hai. We are currently competing with them for a contract to rebuild the former lunar base for research purposes. The World Nation is hoping to later expand the initial basic facilities into a full-fledged colony. In other words, the contractor who wins the Moon Project will have a monopoly on all construction on the moon for the next few decades. We have already lost the Mars Project to Winner; if we lose the Moon as well, we will be completely ousted out of the market."

"Aa."

"Hideki-san is very interested in preventing Winner from winning the contract. Needless to say, he will go to any extent, even hiring a professional, if it means Hideki Intercolonial will gain an advantage in its bid for the contract. I have been instructed to pay you any fee you ask."

"Hn. Interesting."

"The Moon Project contract will be settled next Friday. Keep Quatre Raberba Winner distracted until then. Use any means possible."

Heero arched an eyebrow. "Hideki-san, I have not yet accepted your proposition."

"What? But did you not hear me say that we are willing to pay any sum you ask?"

"Please understand, Hideki-san. I must refuse this offer."

The man drew back in his chair and looked contemptuously at the boy. "I expected better manners from someone who claimed to be the best of the L1 professionals. To back out on an offer after agreeing to meet--"

Heero held up a hand. "Remember. I did not shake your hand. I have agreed on nothing. I owe you nothing."

He closed his laptop, tucked it under one arm like a suitcase, and stood up, gazing calmly down at the incredulous man. He murmured, "You cannot buy a professional with just money, Hideki-san," and left the room.

Back in the safety of his own room, he flipped up the laptop screen again.

"Could you hear everything, Quatre?"

"Yes," a tinny voice spoke from the speakers, "I caught it all. Arigatou, Heero."

"You're welcome."

"I've been wondering, Heero. If I hadn't hired you first to spy on Hideki for the last three months, would you have taken their offer?"

Heero's mouth twitched, and he looked as if he was trying to smile against his will.

"Oi, Heero, do tell! I've been dying from curiosity!"

"Curiosity killed the cat. And don't think I don't know why you're asking."

An unseen voice in the background called out, "I told you so."

Quatre scowled, "Well, he could just tell me anyway. Is it so hard for him to break his vow of silence on all things Heero Yuy just for once? After all, it's for a good cause."

"Yes, like taking money from my already slim purse to fill your rich coffers."

"It's just a small bet, Trowa, don't grouse about it. Or have you realized that you're about to lose money to me...again?"

"I'm not going to lose this one. I know Heero."

Quatre burst into a laugh and replied in a singsong tone, "Not as well as you think!"

Heero rolled his eyes. "What do you think, Quatre? I'm a professional. If you hadn't paid me first, what's to prevent me from taking the job? Besides, Hideki would have paid me more than you did."

Quatre's eyes widened. "Really Heero? You'd have taken a job against your own friend?"

Trowa snickered from the background, "What did I tell you Quatre? I know Heero. You owe me 50,000 credits."

Quatre looked visibly upset as he handed a stack of bills over to an invisible hand. "But...Heero...you couldn't possibly--"

Heero simply shook his head. "This is why professionals don't get involved in any relationships in the first place. They're too much of a burden."

Trowa added, "Friendship is built on trust, and you can't trust professionals unless you've hired them."

"But you're a professional, Trowa!"

"So?"

"Are you saying I shouldn't trust you either?"

"Well...yes."

Quatre sighed in disgust. "You...you...cynics!" His face abruptly disappeared from the screen.

Heero was about to sever the vidlink and close the laptop, when Trowa's face suddenly loomed up close with a serious expression on his face. "Wait, Odin."

"Aa?"

"I seem to recall you saying to me once that professionals can't be bought with just money. Why'd you back me and not Quatre? What happened to the professional's pride?"

"Well, I won the bet for you, didn't I? So how much of that 50,000 are you going to give me?"

Trowa gave an abrupt snort of laughter. "Hn. You're such a liar."

"The best there is in the business."

"Yeah...right. L1 is too soft. You wouldn't have survived with the mercenaries on Earth with all that kuso about honor and bushido."

"If you say so."

"Tell me, Odin. How does a bunch of lying, back-stabbing assassins become honorable?" Trowa asked, his voice taunting.

"Shut up."

"Admit it. Odin Lowe was a renegade. He assassinated the very man he was supposed to protect; he betrayed Heero Yuy for the Alliance's money. And you say that money can't buy a professional?"

"You don't understand; there were reasons--"

Trowa smirked. "You're such a liar. But I can't help admiring you for believing in your own lies."

Heero opened his lips to snap back a retort, but he could only stare at the screen, his mouth half-open, unable to speak.

"Bye, Heero," Trowa said quietly and cut off the vidlink.

Automatically, he responded to an empty screen. "Sayonara..."

He slid off his chair and sat on the floor, leaning his back against his desk. He reached up with two fingers to press the buttons that would turn off the brilliant white fluorescent lights of the room. Unable to see, he closed his eyes and tilted his chin toward the ceiling.

In the darkness, he could hear echoes. Sayonara, Zechs Marquise.

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NOTES:  More parallels between Heero and Zechs.  Oh, and I have no idea how much 50,000 credits is supposed to be in American dollars.  It is meant to be a sizeable amount of money, but not so much that Trowa goes completely broke.