The World's In Your Eyes, by Kaoru Saotome
Heero sipped his tea silently as Duo explained the circumstances that had brought him to Quatre's home.
"I heard about Trowa before it was broadcast," he said smugly, proud of his hacking skills. "I guess I'm lucky. If I hadn't been scouting out a virus rumour, I'd never have found out. I don't watch the news on TV."
"What do you watch?" asked Sylvia.
"He only ever watches television on Saturday mornings," said Heero. "For the cartoons."
Duo nodded. "What can I say? I'm gregarious."
"Wufei's on his way here too," said Quatre, sitting back down with his own cup. "You can imagine Duo jumped for joy when he heard."
"Can't wait to see Wuffles again," beamed the American.
"You know, Duo, he'll hang you with that braid of yours if you keep calling him that."
"I can outrun him," said Duo confidently. "Hey, I'm working on a new OS..."
"Again?" asked Heero. "You created four new operating systems for my laptop alone during the war. I just wish you'd told me before you uploaded them. You scared the hell out of me."
"Yeah, well..." Duo shrugged. "Wu-man should be here today. He travels light."
"I feel so weird," commented Sylvia. "In the presence of three of the five men who ended nearly a century of feuding in just over a year, then saved the Earth again afterward...you guys are amazingly down-to-earth for super-soldiers."
"We're not super-soldiers," smiled Quatre, earning a 'speak-for-yourself' look from Heero. "Our equipment was what made us the deciding factor in the war. When my Sandrock Gundam first appeared, I must have seemed unstoppable to the poor Leo pilots who came looking for me."
"I scared 'em more," smirked Duo. "A black Gundam with a scythe. I mean, come on...which is scarier?"
"Probably a mech that took out two Aries suits, in full flight, with one shot, during atmospheric reentry," came a soft masculine voice from the doorway.
"Wufei!" yelled Duo. "About time! I mean, I can understand you could be a little late with the tiny roads they have around here, but we've been waiting for hours!"
"Not Belgium's fault Americans can't steer," smirked Wufei. "Actually, Maxwell, I was taking in the sights. The rural areas of Europe are not to be missed."
"So what're we gonna do about Trowa?" asked Heero, straight to the point. Sylvia stared at him, amazed at his lack of social graces as he continued, "Wufei, got any ideas?"
"Not without getting paranoid and going into triads and stuff," replied the Chinaman, as Quatre invited him to sit. Accepting gratefully, he added, "I don't think we should rule that out, but let's check the more rational explanations first...what are the chances of Trowa being kidnapped by terrorists?"
"Small enough to be considered nil," said Heero. "He's cautious."
"Then if he's just had an accident and is laid up somewhere?" asked Duo.
"He'd have contacted us somehow. Even by starting a fire and waiting for someone to investigate the smoke."
"Then what's left?" asked Quatre. "What other explanation can there be?" He was a lot more confident, noted Sylvia; less shaky with the topic now that his fellow pilots were in support.
"We're missing something," growled Wufei. "Quatre. You know Trowa best. How was he feeling they day he disappeared?"
"He seemed the same as usual," sighed Quatre. "Quietly went about the day as normal, until he left to pick up some groceries. He always did like doing that for himself." Sylvia blinked. An idea had winked at her, for just a moment. It had gone again, but she resolved to stick with it until it came back and then put it forward in order not to appear a fifth wheel.
They booted ideas around for another hour and a half before Duo yawned and proclaimed himself exhausted. It was around ten; they'd been travelling all day, so they decided to turn in for the night.
In her spacious, four-poster room, Sylvia felt strangely uncomfortable. She was used to her cottage, and having lived among the middle classes all her life – despite her family connections – there was an echo of the sense of guilt felt by everyone who has seen both poverty and wealth. Having been deferentially placed next to Heero's room, she could go and talk to him if she so wished. The fact that she didn't, she reflected, was either a compliment for her self-control or an indication of her fear. She wasn't sure which was worse.
Sylvia drifted off to sleep with a troubled mind, and dreamed fitfully.