Night Wind

Part I – See the Sunlight Fading... Fading...

Chapter Six: Masks

Duo takes one look at the breathless joy radiating from the young boy under his care and knows.

Heero's here.

He feels a slightly wobbly smile push at his lips as his fingers fumble numbly with the cards he'd been charged with shuffling.

God, I hope I'm ready for this.

"Looks like you've got good news, dude." He glances at the cooling confections Jaspien had obviously recently been busy toasting to perfection over Wufei's sacrificial undergarments and jokes lightly, "Mastered the art of marshmallow roasting? Gonna open your own restaurant, now? Get Taki to wash the dishes for you? I think L2's ready for a decent toasted marshmallow place."

Jaspien, still grinning, shakes his head and reaches for Duo's arm. He bodily hauls the young man form his seat, barely able to speak around his happiness but Duo can read his lips.

"Hero's here!"

Duo allows himself to be herded toward the front door. He wishes for another moment or two to compose himself but knows he can't afford to show any reluctance. Jaspien will surely notice if he drags his feet. So he moves quickly but does not run. He pretends to trip over his own feet, laughs at Jas's hidden strength, wheezes and huffs like an old man. In general, he plays his role. After all, it distracts not only Jaspien but himself as well. And he knows that the secret to a successful distraction is for the artist to allow himself to get caught up in the event himself. Thus it happens that Duo covers a distance that seems intimidating in its length in a duration of time that is startling in its abruptness. Thus he finds himself leaning against the doorjamb with his hands tucked across his chest to keep from clutching Jaspien's hand too tightly. Thus he hears himself say with a crooked grin and speculatively arched brows, "Dude! You made it here before the main event."

Still grinning, Duo grasps onto a ghost of memory. He vaguely recalls another time Heero's timely arrival had been called into question. In another country. At another estate. For a different holiday. Recalling with fondness that holiday spent in Salzburg, Duo grins widely and shouts in Wufei's direction, "Pay up, man!"

...ooo...

"Damn! It looks like Christmas... without the tree!" Duo contributes with a grin as he follows the others into the dinning room – at Quatre's smoothly inserted suggestion – for the costume swap. He doesn't crowd around the giant jack o' lantern with the others, however, electing to utilize his bodyweight in keeping the doorway from galloping off down the hall.

Sensing the odd dynamics in the air, Trowa glances up at the young man leaning in the doorway and the corner of his mouth lifts upward. "Are you saying one of us looks like Santa Claus?"

Duo grins mysteriously. "Maaybe..."

"Ho ho ho," Bisho woofs from behind her brother.

Duo straightens with a small jump as if he had not heard her sneak up behind him. He turns and settles a mock glare on her audacious expression. "What are you doing out of the workshop, Elf?"

"Eep!" she squeaks in mock horror. "What a slave driver!"

Trowa watches Duo fight back a broad, crooked grin. "That's Christmas spirit for you," Yokaze's lover deadpans with a blank expression.

Duo throws back his head and barks out a laugh.

"And here's my contribution," Heero offers, lifting out a brown paper sack from his bag. The fact that it's a rather small and sparsely filled parcel is a detail no one present can ignore.

Trowa almost leers but manages to state flatly, "That's encouraging." He communicates a meaningful glance in Yokaze's direction.

She doesn't even bother trying to look miffed. Clearly amused, she accepts her brother's choice of costume and peers into the sack. A strange look transforms her face at the sight within the bag. "Well..." she drawls. "No doubts here who picked this out..."

Duo chuckles from the doorway at the curious expression Trowa's trying to hide. Oh yeah, that guy is as transparent as Oz propaganda. He watches as, one by one, the garment boxes – a few of which are quite large – are distributed. In no time at all, the small talk dies down as people begin to drift towards the stairs. Duo glances at the clock. The party starts in less than an hour. And, depending on the costume and the sadistic tendencies of the one who had selected it, it may take all of that time and then some to get ready.

With a contented sigh, Duo tucks his own parcel under his arm. For a moment, he loses himself in envisioning the evening to come, the startled expression yet to be preserved for posterity on Kodak 400 speed film...

"Duo?"

Blinking, Duo turns automatically toward that voice, realizing belatedly that it had been Heero who had spoken. The cavernous space of the room seems to echo around the two of them until Duo feels the tension and anxiety he'd denied himself earlier return in full force. He'd imagined this moment a dozen times... a hundred times from nearly every conceivable angle. But the fear in Heero's expression as he hesitates over his next words Duo had not once anticipated. He'd hoped for – at the very least – a friendly reconciliation. But whatever Heero has to say to him can't possibly be good. Not with an expression like this preceding it.

Duo's hands tighten around the box housing his costume until the cardstock buckles. He starts a little at the soft crunch and almost misses Heero's series of sudden blinks. But he doesn't miss the smile Heero manages to dredge up.

"It's good to see you again, Duo."

Ah, simple words. Predictable words. Polite words. Duo nearly sags with relief as he realizes that Heero isn't going to start their needful discussion now. "Yeah, you too, man. You been staying out of trouble?"

"As much as I can," he replies with a small smirk.

Duo relaxes even more. "Well, I can personally vouch that life with you was never dull."

As a throb of silence echoes in the wake of Duo's flippant remark, he belatedly realizes his error. He mentally smacks his forehead with an open palm. Stupid! Don't talk about the past. Don't bring it up tonight. Don't... He finds himself staring into Heero's eyes and his silent recriminations morph into something that resembles a plea. Just... don't say it, Heero. Not yet.

Heero makes a visible effort to move past the rather intimidating speed-bump in the conversation. "I hear Jaspien is managing to keep you busy, though."

Duo chuckles although it's a bit forced. "Um, yeah. But he hasn't been suspended yet, so that's a good sign."

"Why did you enroll him in St. Jude's and not the public school?" Heero inquires curiously.

Duo shrugs. "The kid's brilliant. He needs to be challenged."

"But in an exclusive, private school?" Heero blinks slowly, considering the young man before him. "You never had anything good to say about the parochial school you attended at the same age."

Squashing a wince, Duo replies, "It wasn't an easy choice to make, Heero. Should I have sent him to a larger school with bigger classrooms and paint-by-number art classes?" Frustrated, he runs a hand over his braid to rub at the back of his neck. "At least this way, he's not just another 'problem' kid whose potential is never realized." Dropping his hand, Duo concludes, "I hadn't heard from you and I had to make a choice." The unspoken accusation "Where were you when I needed you?" lingers between them.

"I'm not disappointed, Duo," Heero replies after a moment. "Just surprised." He manages a small, barely-there smile and confides, "You still do manage to surprise me occasionally."

Duo feels his own mouth turn up in the corners. "That's good to know."

Heero nods once and moves toward the door. Over his shoulder, he continues, "Just don't let it go to your head, Maxwell."

Relieved at the lack of tension between them, Duo follows Heero toward the stairs. "After listening to Jaspien bemoaning my soggy pizzas for the last two months, I figure I'm due a little flattery, Yuy."

The soft sound of Heero's chuckle accompanies Duo even after they've parted ways on the landing. With a slight shake of his head, Duo shoulders open his bedroom door and thinks that, maybe, things might be all right between them after all.

...ooo...

Not for the first time since the idea for a Halloween party had been suggested, Taki finds herself catching a brief glimpse of a mysterious smirk on her lover's face. Something is going on; she is sure of it. And it's positively maddening that she hasn't a clue as to what it might be.

She stalks up to him and wraps his ponytail around her fist. It had taken quite a bit of cajoling to persuade him to let his hair grow out, but she's glad she'd persisted. Having a longer, thicker mane of hair is useful for many things. Including gaining his undivided attention.

Taki tugs at the silky, coarse hair. "Spill it, Chang."

He glances over his shoulder at her, a single brow arced with infuriating coolness. "To what are you referring?"

She grinds her teeth at her lover's use of proper grammar. "You're hiding something from me and I think I've waited long enough to find out what it is."

With a small grin, he smoothly replies, "No."

Taki opens her mouth to protest, but Wufei simply gathers up the box containing his costume and places a finger over her lips.

"No," he continues, something hot and devious reflecting in his expression, "You haven't waited long enough yet."

Frowning, she draws another breath in order to demand what the hell he means by that cryptic comment but Wufei interrupts her yet again. "Let Trowa know if you need help with your costume."

Still smiling that disgustingly sexy grin, he disappears into the hall.

...ooo...

In the room just across the hall from Taki's, Trowa gazes expectantly from Yokaze to the rumpled paper bag she'd abandoned on the bed.

"Stop asking," she says in mild reply to his silence. "You'll just have to find out with everyone else."

"Hm," he says, removing the lid on the rather large gift box he'd collected from the parlor and finds a rather detailed diagram of how to assemble his costume. With a slight frown, he lifts out a fold of shimmering, near-translucent, white fabric. Glancing once more to the diagram then back to the fabric, he feels a slight fluttering of unease. He glances in his lover's direction before casually tucking both the fabric and the diagram back into the box. Thankfully, her attention is currently absorbed by puzzling over what looks to be directions for applying make-up.

For an instant, he feels a little irritated at the author of his costume. And considering the meticulous details provided in the diagrams, it is only too easy to guess who had drawn his name.

God help you Taki...

Trowa doesn't finish his thought. He quietly watches as Yokaze rises and disappears into the adjoining bathroom. As the door closes softly behind her, Trowa turns back to his costume and feels a genuine smile shape his lips. His initial irritation disappears as he considers the... tactical advantages to this disguise. Perhaps this is exactly what he needs in order to make some headway with his recalcitrant lover.

Reaching for the hem of his shirt, Trowa continues with his interrupted thought, God help you Taki if I go through all this trouble for nothing...

...ooo...

Someone is going to die. It's that simple.

Heero scowls at his reflection with a fierceness he'd not employed since the wars. He tugs viciously at the fabric draped across his chest and thinks, Fishnet and bunny ears my ass!

How had he allowed Yokaze to talk him into this?

Not for the first time, Heero lectures himself on the wisdom of trusting his elder sibling. Before he can figure out a way to salvage this situation a timid knock sounds against his door. He sighs, knowing exactly who must be at that door and knowing that he can't refuse to answer.

Standing out of sight from any potential passersby in the hall, Heero says, "Come in, Jas."

An instant later, a froth of blond hair pokes around the edge of the door. "Hero?"

"Need some help with your costume?" Heero guesses, bending to adjust one of the leather laces arcing over his ankle.

"Um, yeah..."

Straightening, Heero and Jaspien's eyes meet with an almost audible clash. Jaw hanging open, Jaspien fairly shouts, "Your costume's a skirt?"

Heero winces as the bedroom door settles into its frame an instant too late. With yet another sigh, he wonders how many of the villa's inhabitants had heard that. And he wonders which one of them is laughing...

End of Chapter Six