Review replies:

Yurikitsune: Ah, you read this on my site? (happy smile) Thank you! Eh, this story's so old though. I'm afraid of it. (whimpers and backs away in terror) It's so… sappy! It makes me gag. (sniffles pathetically)

Lihanou: Eh heh. (sheepish grin) I'm glad you like it. I'll try my damnedest to continue with this thing to appease you. Hopefully it keeps up to your expectations, as my styling has changed a bit over these last (cringe) we dont' even want to mention the number of years. (cries) I can't believe I'm that old of an otaku! Sheesh.

Disclaimer: I in no way own Gundam Wing. Don't sue; I'm simply an E5 in the USN, therefore I have no money. Ha.

-BEGIN FIC-

-Duo Maxwell-

Well, the shuttles arrived a total of two hours late.

A stressful wait it was, standing in that lobby with a very overly grumpy Wufei, an unconventionally antisocial Heero, a slumbering Quatre and a stoic and silent Trowa. Such fine company I got myself involved with. Three pilots who wouldn't know how to start a conversation with any member of the human race if their lives depended on it, and one normal guy who at the time was too busy snoring away in that funky lotus position he was sleeping in to bother giving me someone to unleash my overstocked energy at. And while I'm certain those three delightful comrades of mine found my presence just as annoying as I found theirs, I take no pity on them. If they'd wanted me to quiet myself, they should have simply spoken themselves. It's not that I'm incapable of listening. I simply need noise. Silence is too fucking unnerving.

Anyway, the shuttles finally arrived, rolling slowly to the gates and glistening in the bright morning sunlight as perfect as anyone could imagine them being. Only a half an hour longer wait and we were shuffling onboard, our belongings in duffel bags slung over our shoulders and our minds on the situation that was driving us away from the earth we'd not so long ago been forced into calling our temporary home and battleground.

Cease-fire, my ass. We all knew that OZ was up to something. We all felt it. No matter how much any of these other losers I have to recognize as Gundam pilots look at me oddly for mentioning it, I know that they feel the same way as I. Maybe they just don't feel the need to express their concerns as I do.

It wasn't anything to do with the timing, or the relative position of either organization. It was simply that there was no viable reason for a cease-fire to be called. None whatsoever. Just like the leaders of both parties woke up that morning and said, "Golly gee wilickers, I think I just don't want us to fight for awhile," and called up their enemies to say, "Let's not shoot at each other." Or maybe they figured out that them being at one another's' throats was what we Gundam pilots were using to cover our own tracks and assist us in our missions. The chaos caused by becoming the proverbial third wheel was simply fabulous for its contributions to the survivability factor of our little fiasco tromps those who sent us our information delighted in sending us on.

Nah, they didn't figure nothin' out. Just dumb luck, I'd like to think. I personally felt that sticking with the "Golly gee wilickers" explanation was the best for the moment, all things considered.

Or perhaps they'd predicted that we'd leave the Earth and were simply waiting for the right moment when no one was paying attention to anything to strike at one another once more.

Or maybe they just wanted to fuck with our heads.

Fucking hell, it just didn't make any damned sense!

Better just to drive the mind off of such matters and focus instead on things at hand.

Like the fact that Perfect Soldier Boy's stolen yet another bag of peanuts from my tray.

Bastard!

Glancing around the shuttle, giving him the temporary satisfaction of having successfully scavenged more salted treats away from me, I sighed. The vessel was quiet and the trip was peaceful. Smooth skies lead to a debris-lacking path to the L-1 colony cluster, where we'd be landing at the Cluster A-18372 Spaceport and from there going our separate ways.

I'd have to be meeting up with Simon and Patty again. And Cindy was most likely going to be with them.

Simon and Patty were my 'Dad' and 'Mom,' the relationship being nothing but a collection of superficial titles assigned to random strangers designed to somehow supplement my supposedly empty life and grant me some foundation of stability for the years I'd face after these conflicts I faced now had since subsided. Simon – well, Dad – was a computer programmer. From what I understood, he'd been a regular with the Sweeper Corps, and had been the original designer behind the complex computer systems that ran the Peacemillion craft that the ol' Prof had stashed away. He was a cool enough guy. Nice enough, anyway, to give a stowaway like me a chance to redeem myself for the little bout of havoc I raised with the ship and its crew when I made my way into its bowels quite uninvited. And his wife, the woman I found myself regularly calling Mom for lack of any other way to show respect, was kind almost to a fault.

Cindy, wenchy excuse for a pseudo sister, gets no special recognition.

I'd take Heero over her any day.

But they'd be waiting for me at the port. Waiting with smiles and a camera and gooby kisses and cries of, 'Welcome home, Duo!'

For some reason, part of me simply couldn't wait for that, just as much as the rest of me loathed and dreaded returning to the lie that Professor G had created in a dire attempt to retain what little sanity remained in what scraps of my soul could be found.

Then I found myself wondering – what was everyone else going back to?

My eyes found their way first to Wufei. He was sitting silently and completely upright, buckled into his seat and reading a thick black-bound tome, his eyes squinted as he poured intently over the text scribbled on the book's thin pages. Did he have family waiting for him to bustle over him and shove him into a car to be careened off to his home with? Did he have a home waiting for him to return? For some reason, my heart found itself a bit more heavy and sad. I don't think I ever believed for a moment that he really had anyone or anything to return to.

Why sad over Wufei? Simple. He's a good friend, no matter how callous and cold he may seem to be. The guy simply has different ways of expressing himself; if he protects your ass once in your lousy life, it means he's simply ecstatic to have you as a fellow member of the human race and that you're more than worthy to be a presence in his ever so holy universe. Heh. I know that was a bit sarcastic, but hey! Pretty damned straight.

He'd saved me before. He'd shown me that he recognized me at least as a worthy comrade in all things Gundam, if not a friend. Thus I regarded him as a friend in return.

And the thought of one of my friends not having anything to return to disturbed me.

My eyes drifted to Trowa, who was all but plastered to the window of the shuttle, staring blankly out into space. Now that's a guy to ponder over. Quatre's said that he's got a girl in a circus to return to. And my brain says, "How the hell can a guy like that score someone's affection?" Not that he's unfriendly or anything, but he has the personality of a blade of grass. Now I've met some pretty personable grass stalks, mind you. And Trowa's right up there with the most expressive and friendly ones I've ever known.

I can't bring myself to really worry about him. He'll be scampering merrily back to his circus as merrily as Trowa the Mime can scamper in his shuffling, lackadaisical I-don't-care way. Back to this 'Catherine' chick. Must be sweet.

Quatre, the sleeping wonder strapped in his laid-back chair… hell, we all know where he's going. Quatre Raberba Winner, prince-boy of L-4, going back home to his world of comfort and servants waiting on him hand and foot.

Wonder if he'd get bored enough to invite me over? Heh heh.

And Heero….

Heero….

Heero.

He was staring at me as I stared at him, one eyebrow quirked over one dark Prussian blue eye. "What?" his voice asked, his tone dull and lifeless.

Shaking my head, I sighed quietly. "Just wonderin' where you're going after we land, is all."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Back to base."

"Not back home?" I questioned, hiking one brow above the other.

And I could only stare as Heero's lips turned with the slightest hint of a frown at their edges, his brow furrowing in that ever so familiar look of consternation and disgruntled disregard for the world in general, his eyes narrowed just a pinch. "I have no home."

"No home…?" I quietly whispered. My concern crept into my voice against my will.

"It doesn't matter."

My eyes narrowed slightly at his toneless statement.

Oh, but it does matter, Heero Yuy.

It matters.

might be continued against any and all better judgment...