Notes: None really, just the usual plea for reviews. This chapter isn't very interesting, but if I added it to the previous or next chapter, it would make that chapter really long, so this is it. I don't know how long chapters will be, probably varying in length, depending on when I want to stop things, but I wanted to end the first chapter with Heero going to sleep and start the next chapter at the new safe house, so this chapter just got stuck in the middle. Sorry. Enjoy and review!
I woke up to the sound of Duo standing up. I glanced at him and saw him stretching, muscles straining, fingertips reaching for the ceiling. He looked at me and didn't grin or smile or even speak. His mask was still down, and I knew that around me, it would be until he came back from the mission, and maybe then, he'd continue to go unmasked for me.
Shaking his head, Duo moved to the single dresser and opened one of his two drawers, pulling out some black jeans and a black long-sleeved tee shirt with black boxers and black socks. He dressed silently, turned away from me, but making no move to hide himself. He had a bullet-crease scar across his shoulder blades and a clean knife wound to the right of his lower back. His skin was creamy and pale, as he normally wore long-sleeves and most of his work took place at night, or inside a building or Gundam. I knew that he was strong and muscled, and it showed more in the front, in his chest and abdomen, but just from looking at his back, you could tell he was strong. He was lean and lanky, but he had muscles. I liked that.
Sitting down on his bed, he unbraided his hair and brushed it. He looked completely different with his hair down. It moved around him like it were alive, a thick, warm, chestnut, living blanket. I liked seeing him with his hair down. I was the only one that got to see him like that. I felt honoured. He braided his hair quickly, having had years of practise, and tied it off with a black hair-band.
Duo reached under his bed for his bag and began checking its contents-clothes, weapons, basic medical supplies, four changes of ID, handheld radio, laptop. He had another bag filled with bomb-making equipment, another change of ID and a couple more guns, plus a complete med kit. The handheld radio was for him to call us on the emergency frequency in case of trouble.
He pulled on a shoulder holster, checking the gun's clip and safety automatically, and then strapped a knife to each forearm. The knives were a set of four, the other two going on his thighs. He normally didn't add the knives unless in enemy territory, usually having just his gun and hunting knife. That he was wearing them now was not a good sign. He pulled on his black combat boots and checked the knives in the built-in sheaths. A gun and four knives, and he hadn't even left the safe house yet. Not good. Duo wore extra weapons when he was nervous, angry, or upset. I think it might have been all three this morning.
He looked at me again, some dark, unreadable emotion in his violet eyes, and then left. He hadn't said a single word. Unless doing infiltration work or hiding from search parties, silence was damn near impossible for Duo Maxwell. I didn't like that he was silent. I really didn't like it.
Sighing, I got up and changed into faded jeans with an off-white tee shirt, gun a stark contrast to the whiteness, but no one would comment. Forgoing shoes and just wearing socks on my feet, I padded downstairs and found that Duo was the only one up. He was sitting in the kitchen, staring into his coffee. Duo's idea of breakfast was coffee-or in a pinch, Coke-and maybe an apple. Quatre made sure he ate properly. So did I. Come to think of it, so did the others. Hm, interesting.
"How long will the mission take?" I asked quietly, pouring myself some coffee and sitting down opposite him.
"Few days, week at the most. I leave in a couple of hours."
"The others might not be up."
"I know."
"Do you want me to tell them about the mission?"
Duo thought about that for a moment and then shook his head. "No."
"Alright."
I heard movement upstairs and knew that at least one of the others was awake. If it was Wufei, it was just him, if it was either Trowa or Quatre, it would be both of them. I listened, and heard just one set of footsteps, so it was Wufei. He moved into the bathroom and I heard the water running. It was his day for the first shower, a very hot one. Then it would be me, with a hot one, then Duo with a very warm one, then Trowa with a warm one, then Quatre with a lukewarm one. The hot water in this safe house was very limited, and it took a long time to heat back up, so we took it in turns. Of course, the water running made the other two wake up. Quatre would come down in a moment and start making breakfast-probably pancakes.
I looked at Duo and saw him take a deep breath, let it out slowly, and plaster a cheerful grin on his face. It looked completely genuine, just like all his smiles, and it made me... sad to see it, which was confusing as hell.
Quatre walked in, wearing a pair of jeans and a loose grey tee shirt. He didn't appear to be armed. He was the only one of us that was not constantly armed. He smiled around a wide yawn and said good morning.
"Morning, Quat," Duo said cheerfully. "Didya sleep well?"
"Very well, actually. You?"
"Like a corpse."
"Duo."
"Sorry. Like a log."
"Better. Pancakes?"
"Oooh, yummy." Duo sipped his coffee and watched Quatre move around the kitchen, getting all the ingredients for pancakes. I watched Duo. He seemed so happy, so... carefree. But it was just a mask. It was as flawless and impenetrable as my own masks. Did the others know it was a mask? Quatre, with his mild empathic abilities might, if he focused hard enough, but the others.... I don't think any of them realised just how much Duo hid from them. He ran and he hid and no one even knew he was doing it.
"I'm going out to do the shopping later, if you have anything to add to the list," Quatre said, glancing at us. I'd already checked the list and couldn't think of anything else, so I didn't say anything. Duo stood up and took the list off the fridge, examining it. It was quite short, just the bare essentials, and one luxury item per pilot. My luxury item is a book by Laurell K Hammilton. She's my favourite author. Only Duo knows how much I like her, and he's read some of my books. Duo's luxury item is a new CD, nu metal, of course.
"Nope, you've got everything here," he said, putting the list back on the fridge just as Trowa walked in, wearing jeans and dark blue tank top, with a gun in a hip holster. A shoulder holster would chafe against his bare skin, so why put up with it if you didn't have to? He made himself a coffee, and Quatre a tea. Quatre is the only one of us that doesn't drink coffee, or anything with caffeine in it, for that matter.
"So, what's everyone doing today?" Quatre asked cheerfully, putting the pancakes in front of Duo, along with a bottle of chocolate ice cream sauce, knowing how much Duo like the stuff on his pancakes.
"I'm going to be working on Wing," I muttered, still watching Duo, who just looked at his pancakes and then pushed them towards me.
Quatre noticed and asked, "Aren't you hungry, Duo?"
"Not as much as I thought I would be. I'll grab a snack later or something." He grinned and left. I ate the pancakes because my body was hungry and then followed him. He was opening the window, and tossing down his two bags and med kit.
"Leaving?" I asked quietly, leaning against the wall. He looked at me and nodded.
"Yeah. Might as well get a little jump-start on things, huh?"
"One week."
"Yep. From today."
Meaning that next Wednesday, if he wasn't back and I hadn't heard from him, he was captured or dead, and I could go find him.
"We leave this safe house in three days."
"I'll get the co-ordinates from base at the end of the mission. I'll find ya."
"Who's going to pilot Deathscythe?"
"You, of course. I don't trust anyone else with my buddy. Just don't steal his parts again."
That was something of joke between us-that I'd stolen parts from Deathscythe to fix Wing after he'd busted me out of the Alliance hospital. Like the fact that he'd shot me when we first met. He grinned at me for the first time since yesterday, and it was a mere ghost of his usual grin that left his eyes empty, drowning violet pools of nothing.
Then he turned and jumped out the window. I heard him land lightly, pick up his bags, and walk away. It was a five mile walk to the town, but I knew he could walk it. He could've taken the car and left it at the drop-off point, but he didn't. He chose to walk. Hm.
I walked over to the window and watched him walk away, and felt... something. I don't know what it was-sadness, longing, wistfulness, all of them, none of them; just something. I sighed and turned away from the window.
I woke up to the sound of Duo standing up. I glanced at him and saw him stretching, muscles straining, fingertips reaching for the ceiling. He looked at me and didn't grin or smile or even speak. His mask was still down, and I knew that around me, it would be until he came back from the mission, and maybe then, he'd continue to go unmasked for me.
Shaking his head, Duo moved to the single dresser and opened one of his two drawers, pulling out some black jeans and a black long-sleeved tee shirt with black boxers and black socks. He dressed silently, turned away from me, but making no move to hide himself. He had a bullet-crease scar across his shoulder blades and a clean knife wound to the right of his lower back. His skin was creamy and pale, as he normally wore long-sleeves and most of his work took place at night, or inside a building or Gundam. I knew that he was strong and muscled, and it showed more in the front, in his chest and abdomen, but just from looking at his back, you could tell he was strong. He was lean and lanky, but he had muscles. I liked that.
Sitting down on his bed, he unbraided his hair and brushed it. He looked completely different with his hair down. It moved around him like it were alive, a thick, warm, chestnut, living blanket. I liked seeing him with his hair down. I was the only one that got to see him like that. I felt honoured. He braided his hair quickly, having had years of practise, and tied it off with a black hair-band.
Duo reached under his bed for his bag and began checking its contents-clothes, weapons, basic medical supplies, four changes of ID, handheld radio, laptop. He had another bag filled with bomb-making equipment, another change of ID and a couple more guns, plus a complete med kit. The handheld radio was for him to call us on the emergency frequency in case of trouble.
He pulled on a shoulder holster, checking the gun's clip and safety automatically, and then strapped a knife to each forearm. The knives were a set of four, the other two going on his thighs. He normally didn't add the knives unless in enemy territory, usually having just his gun and hunting knife. That he was wearing them now was not a good sign. He pulled on his black combat boots and checked the knives in the built-in sheaths. A gun and four knives, and he hadn't even left the safe house yet. Not good. Duo wore extra weapons when he was nervous, angry, or upset. I think it might have been all three this morning.
He looked at me again, some dark, unreadable emotion in his violet eyes, and then left. He hadn't said a single word. Unless doing infiltration work or hiding from search parties, silence was damn near impossible for Duo Maxwell. I didn't like that he was silent. I really didn't like it.
Sighing, I got up and changed into faded jeans with an off-white tee shirt, gun a stark contrast to the whiteness, but no one would comment. Forgoing shoes and just wearing socks on my feet, I padded downstairs and found that Duo was the only one up. He was sitting in the kitchen, staring into his coffee. Duo's idea of breakfast was coffee-or in a pinch, Coke-and maybe an apple. Quatre made sure he ate properly. So did I. Come to think of it, so did the others. Hm, interesting.
"How long will the mission take?" I asked quietly, pouring myself some coffee and sitting down opposite him.
"Few days, week at the most. I leave in a couple of hours."
"The others might not be up."
"I know."
"Do you want me to tell them about the mission?"
Duo thought about that for a moment and then shook his head. "No."
"Alright."
I heard movement upstairs and knew that at least one of the others was awake. If it was Wufei, it was just him, if it was either Trowa or Quatre, it would be both of them. I listened, and heard just one set of footsteps, so it was Wufei. He moved into the bathroom and I heard the water running. It was his day for the first shower, a very hot one. Then it would be me, with a hot one, then Duo with a very warm one, then Trowa with a warm one, then Quatre with a lukewarm one. The hot water in this safe house was very limited, and it took a long time to heat back up, so we took it in turns. Of course, the water running made the other two wake up. Quatre would come down in a moment and start making breakfast-probably pancakes.
I looked at Duo and saw him take a deep breath, let it out slowly, and plaster a cheerful grin on his face. It looked completely genuine, just like all his smiles, and it made me... sad to see it, which was confusing as hell.
Quatre walked in, wearing a pair of jeans and a loose grey tee shirt. He didn't appear to be armed. He was the only one of us that was not constantly armed. He smiled around a wide yawn and said good morning.
"Morning, Quat," Duo said cheerfully. "Didya sleep well?"
"Very well, actually. You?"
"Like a corpse."
"Duo."
"Sorry. Like a log."
"Better. Pancakes?"
"Oooh, yummy." Duo sipped his coffee and watched Quatre move around the kitchen, getting all the ingredients for pancakes. I watched Duo. He seemed so happy, so... carefree. But it was just a mask. It was as flawless and impenetrable as my own masks. Did the others know it was a mask? Quatre, with his mild empathic abilities might, if he focused hard enough, but the others.... I don't think any of them realised just how much Duo hid from them. He ran and he hid and no one even knew he was doing it.
"I'm going out to do the shopping later, if you have anything to add to the list," Quatre said, glancing at us. I'd already checked the list and couldn't think of anything else, so I didn't say anything. Duo stood up and took the list off the fridge, examining it. It was quite short, just the bare essentials, and one luxury item per pilot. My luxury item is a book by Laurell K Hammilton. She's my favourite author. Only Duo knows how much I like her, and he's read some of my books. Duo's luxury item is a new CD, nu metal, of course.
"Nope, you've got everything here," he said, putting the list back on the fridge just as Trowa walked in, wearing jeans and dark blue tank top, with a gun in a hip holster. A shoulder holster would chafe against his bare skin, so why put up with it if you didn't have to? He made himself a coffee, and Quatre a tea. Quatre is the only one of us that doesn't drink coffee, or anything with caffeine in it, for that matter.
"So, what's everyone doing today?" Quatre asked cheerfully, putting the pancakes in front of Duo, along with a bottle of chocolate ice cream sauce, knowing how much Duo like the stuff on his pancakes.
"I'm going to be working on Wing," I muttered, still watching Duo, who just looked at his pancakes and then pushed them towards me.
Quatre noticed and asked, "Aren't you hungry, Duo?"
"Not as much as I thought I would be. I'll grab a snack later or something." He grinned and left. I ate the pancakes because my body was hungry and then followed him. He was opening the window, and tossing down his two bags and med kit.
"Leaving?" I asked quietly, leaning against the wall. He looked at me and nodded.
"Yeah. Might as well get a little jump-start on things, huh?"
"One week."
"Yep. From today."
Meaning that next Wednesday, if he wasn't back and I hadn't heard from him, he was captured or dead, and I could go find him.
"We leave this safe house in three days."
"I'll get the co-ordinates from base at the end of the mission. I'll find ya."
"Who's going to pilot Deathscythe?"
"You, of course. I don't trust anyone else with my buddy. Just don't steal his parts again."
That was something of joke between us-that I'd stolen parts from Deathscythe to fix Wing after he'd busted me out of the Alliance hospital. Like the fact that he'd shot me when we first met. He grinned at me for the first time since yesterday, and it was a mere ghost of his usual grin that left his eyes empty, drowning violet pools of nothing.
Then he turned and jumped out the window. I heard him land lightly, pick up his bags, and walk away. It was a five mile walk to the town, but I knew he could walk it. He could've taken the car and left it at the drop-off point, but he didn't. He chose to walk. Hm.
I walked over to the window and watched him walk away, and felt... something. I don't know what it was-sadness, longing, wistfulness, all of them, none of them; just something. I sighed and turned away from the window.