ChibiMe: Here we are again. It's been a slight while since he posted, but he's still getting the hang of this chaptered fic stuff.

KS: wailing from far off It's not my style!!

CM: He's right. But he's trying anyway, for everyone who told him it was a good idea. Besides which, the only thing inspiring him to keep it up is listening to 'Doukeshi' right now. So PLEASE review and make both our jobs a little easier.

KS: AAGH! stuck with plothole

The World's In Your Eyes, by Kaoru Saotome

Heero bit into the soft flesh of the apple gratefully. Hospital food, despite the obvious stupidity of the situation, contained very little nutrition.

"So you knew about the drunks?" asked Sylvia, leaning forward slightly. Her hands were clasped between her knees, and her hair seemed to shimmer in the sunlight that shot in the window.

It'd been two days since the incident with the van. The local gendarmerie, a large man named Jacques Aristelles, had caught the lunatics involved. As they'd all suspected, the culprits were in chronic states of inebriation and had been sent off to the nearest magistrate – two towns away – under the appropriate charges.

Heero had been kept in hospital, and was due to be released after two more days. His rib was more or less fine, and would heal perfectly if he didn't strain it. His backbone had been the injury that had kept him in this long, though; no one knew if any nerves were damaged. So four days were to be spent in the care of the medical staff, until they were sure nothing important was damaged.

"I knew," said Heero, remembering enough of his limited social skills not to speak through a mouthful of apple. "I just didn't figure they'd be drink-driving in the middle of the afternoon."

"All the same, your reaction time was incredible," smiled Sylvia. "No wonder you were a Gunda – "

Heero shushed her, holding a hand up to stop her talking.

"I don't want people here to know," he explained quietly. "You saw the treatment Duo and the others got. I hate publicity...so please, can you keep it under your hat?"

"Mais oui," smiled Sylvia. "I understand perfectly…you certainly enjoyed that," she reflected quietly as the annihilated apple core clonked into the waste disposal bin by Heero's bed.

"Very much," smiled the soldier. "Thank you." He didn't smile often; unknowing of this, Sylvia was totally unaware of exactly how much he had appreciated it.

"Nothing," she said dismissively, waving a hand. Then her cerulean gaze turned to him again, and she took her turn to smile. "Heero Yuy…it seems we're destined to be involved in road accidents every time we meet."

"Just don't drive a truck through my ward," joked Heero feebly. She giggled.

"Your talking muscles aren't damaged," came the voice of Heero's nurse. So few accidents happened in this town, it was quite normal for a patient to have a personal nurse. It helped them feel more at home, and there were almost too many staff for the hospital's flux of patients. Heero's was called Annette. She was a loud, outspoken and jolly young woman – maybe twenty. And so reminiscent of Duo, it almost made him miss the braided lunatic.

"You're lucky," said the patient seriously. "There was a time when I only spoke to reply to important questions."

"Well, how important to you deem the question of dinner?" grinned Annette. "Tonight we have…"

"It doesn't matter," said Heero. "Sylvia brought me some food today." The Noventa girl beamed proudly.

"Was that wise?" asked Annette. "The food here is hygienically prepared…"

"Don't worry, Nurse." Heero adamantly refused to use her name. He was like that. "I'm sure Sylvia can cook food that won't get people sick."

This almost threatening statement ended the conversation, killing it pretty much stone-dead. Heero found himself dismissing the nurse as an amateur. Duo would have come up with a riposte to that within eight seconds. She remained two full minutes, checking everything in the room was shipshape, and then left. She never said a word.

"How about we go down to the communal room?" asked Sylvia pleasantly. "You can stand, can't you?" she added teasingly. She knew full well that, should Heero's legs be broken and under continuous assault with cheesegraters, he'd be able to stand up.

Heero was already swinging his legs off the bed. He stood at the same time Sylvia did, and she linked arms with him before marching him down to the larger room at the back of the hospital. It had a large window – spanning the whole wall – which commanded a spectacular view of the rolling green hills that surrounded the town, and every copse thereon. The room also contained several armchairs, some of which seemed never to be vacated by the old men and women who lived in the hospital, two sofas – generally empty – and one large television. It also contained, at the moment, four snoring pensioners. The two youths sat down on a sofa after retrieving the remote and relaxed. Sylvia began channel-surfing, while Heero cracked his joints quietly.

"Aw, hey!" said Sylvia happily after a couple of minutes. "Look at this, Heero!"

Heero glanced over at the screen. On it was…

"Didn't I see him with you last time we met?" asked the girl curiously. Heero nodded…but Quatre had kept them safe. So why was Trowa on the news? He read the subtitled headline:

GUNDAM PILOT MISSING

"Trowa's disappeared?" asked Heero. "Trowa's not the kind to – "He was shushed by Sylvia.

"Quiet. I want to hear this."

"…Gundam pilot and friend of the ESUN's youngest established businessman, Quatre Raberba Winner – also a Gundam Pilot – went missing yesterday from Mr Winner's holiday home in Eastern Europe…"

"Oh Heero," began Sylvia, her voice filled with sympathy. He looked at her.

"I'm not the one to pity," he said quietly. "We've made a lot of enemies between us, Trowa and I."

"I know," she sighed. "What are we going to do?" she added, fully expecting Heero to leap into a Gundam and charge to the rescue.

"Call Quatre," he said. "Do you have a portable vidphone?"

"Yeah," replied the girl, somewhat disappointed. "Aren't you going to look for him?"

"No," said Heero. "It's bad enough one of us goes missing without me wandering around getting lost."

"Go in your….you know." She refused to mention the mechs; someone might hear. "The G-word."

"And be followed back here?" asked Heero. "No…I can't risk everything I've got here, now…the peace. The solitude."

"And you won't risk it for your friend?" asked Sylvia. She hadn't expected him to be so selfish.

"Sylvia, all I can be is a injured man wandering around looking for the guy. He can take care of himself. And if he is the victim of foul play, what can I do that someone else can't? My hacking skills have been bettered among the other four. I have no special knowledge about it; I don't know enough about him to know where he might have gone or if he'd earned any grudges in that area…all I can do is sit at home and watch. That's probably how Quatre feels right now. So I'm going to call him. Go and get your phone, will you? I'll be back in my room."

Sylvia watched him leave. Then she stood up and stamped her foot.

"I won't stand for it!" she cried to herself. Several feet away a pair of glasses were hurled into the air as their wearer was jerked awake.

"I won't," she repeated quietly. "Heero Yuy, you're going to help in some way if it kills you…" Crossing the floor as if she had a grudge against it, she stormed out of the room and headed off to the exits.

CM: We did it! ^_^

KS: I did it. You hummed 'It's So Alright' for six hours straight.

CM: Sheesh…well, another chapter done. Whaddaya think, minna? We're kinda stuck for ideas here, so we'd appreciate a few imaginative reviews.

KS: Not too imaginative. Nothing about Trowa being kidnapped by a Mayan baboon-samurai or anything. Just…ideas.

CM: Spoilsport. See ya next time, folks.