Progress: 5 of a proposed two figure sum
General Notes: Here to post yet another chapter of my story, and thank you guys once again for taking the time to read it. I've been having a totally shoddy day since my PDA died and now I have to part with it for a good week so that some people can take a good look at it, determine the problem and fix it. Damn technology, it always dies on me!
Music: June – Piano Version – by somebody Chinese; Asia – Doremidan; Everlasting Snow – Dream; Mockingbird – Eminem; Our Love – F.I.R; Can't Lose You – F4; Memory – Gundam Seed Symphony Soundtrack; Contract – Hikaru Nanase; Come on Closer – Jem; Moonlight Sonata – Beethoven; Fantasy Impromptu – Chopin; Star Wars Imperial Theme – John Williams

Covetousness

Chapter Five: A Bar

Heero wandered aimlessly down Mathews Road, hands stuffed in tight jean pockets and blue eyes fixed firmly on the road before him. It had not been long since Duo let him go, and Heero still could not help but feel unnerved. He could not understand why Duo had let him go. Was it out of pity? Or was he one of those people who enjoyed the thrill of the hunt? The look on the violet-eyed man just before he drove off was definitely not one of a hunter anticipating a good hunt, or any hunt for that matter. Duo had appeared sincere enough, and Heero could not help but feel irritated by it. He may be a fugitive suffering from chronic amnesia, but he definitely did not need the pity of a man sent out to retrieve him. Still, he was not going to throw away the freedom the braided-man had given him. With a sigh, Heero turned his gaze skywards, seeing gathering rain clouds and a crack of lightning sear in the distance. The thought of finding a place to stay for the night flickered across his mind once more, but a quick rummage through his right pocket reminded him of his current financial problems. Maybe he would find a secluded alleyway or a bridge of some kind, Heero thought wryly, as long as it ended up being dry and kept him away from the police.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, jolting Heero and forcing him to walk that much faster. He did not have a destination in mind, but the idea of getting under some shelter before rain began was highly appealing. A bar at the intersection between Mathews and William caught his gaze, and he proceeded inside it. Even if he did not have the cash for alcohol, the place would provide for a good shelter, even if it was for the time between now and when he got kicked for not buying anything. Hopefully the bar was full, Heero thought as he pushed through the door, dully noting that he did not even know what day of the week it was.

The bar was small with dim lighting, a small dance floor, a most tiny stage and a little bar off to the side. Heero wondered dully if the theme of the bar was the word small, but regardless, the place seemed popular enough, although it was not exactly the popular Heero had in mind. The stage was dominated by a guy with brown hair, who was currently playing what sounded like Fantasy Impromptu, although the blue-eyed man had no idea how he knew. Silently, he committed the thought to his memory, hoping that it would help in the future in his attempt to find himself. A few people were dancing, although they were mostly couples dressed in business suits. On closer inspection, it appeared that practically everybody was dressed formally, giving Heero a most uncomfortable feeling of standing out. He stared at his own jeans and shirt attire with distain, and hoped desperately that nobody would notice, even though he was already getting a few curious glances from a couple of people at the bar. Taking a deep breath, Heero averted his eyes and walked around to the other side of the dance floor to take a seat at one of the tables there. Three men in business suits, currently sitting at the table next to him, looked up when he sat down, but did not pay him any more mind. Heero was glad as he placed his right arm on the table and cushioned a cheek in his hand, eyes straying around the bar, finally coming to a halt on the pianist. Unconsciously, his eyes closed, and he let the melody take him away.

A stone pavilion stood next to a large lake, color gray, although Heero knew it was normally white. There was a small amount of green moss growing on the side nearest to the lake, an area that was definitely difficult to tend to, and the three steps leading up to the pavilion were chipped and worn, with dark smudges on the corners. He could make out a small round table in the center of the pavilion, surrounded by two chairs made out of glass. On the surface of the table was a beautiful chessboard, also shaped out of glass, with crystal pieces, some clear and others a light shade of blue. The blue side had won, having cornered the clear king with a castle and a queen. But the blue king was lying on the chessboard, half rolling off, a section of it broken, shards of blue crystal scattered over a corner of the board. Looking up, Heero located a large house no so far away, a large white house with tall, stone pillars and wide windows and intricate carvings around the main door. The door itself was a dark shade of cream, and had been left ajar, showing only darkness inside. Heero took a step away from the pavilion, suddenly wanting to go inside, but a cracking noise alarmed him. He stared down quickly, seeing broken glass under his feet, glass which appeared to be from a glass flute. He looked up again, and the door had opened wider, but still showed only darkness. He took another step towards it, ignoring the sound of cracking glass under his feet. He had just stepped out of the pavilion, black, leather shoes finally finding the grass when the image disappeared.

Heero blinked once, feeling uncoordinated for a moment as his eyes took up the dimly light insides of the building he was in, the business men at the table next to his, the various couples still on the dance floor, and the brunet playing on the piano. He remembered that he was in a bar, a convenient little place to hide from the rain, which reminded him suddenly, and left him in a few moments of absolute silence, ears straining to catch whether it was raining outside or not. However, despite the soft melody of the piano and the way people tended to murmur instead of speaking normally, he could hear nothing of the outside. It was only then that Heero noticed the waitress standing beside his table, dressed in a conservative dark-brown outfit and holding a small, barely noticeable pad in her hands.

'Sir?' She asked, and Heero had the suspicion that she had been hear for quite a while. 'Would you like something to drink?'

'Um.' Heero thought for a moment, the idea of getting alcohol definitely not on the top of his to-do list, but he felt as if he needed to get something, if he was hoping to remain in the bar. 'May I have a bottle of beer?'

'Certainly.' She scribbled quickly on her pad. 'What kind sir?'

'Kind?' Heero felt stumped for a moment, his mind suddenly deciding to draw a complete blank. 'Actually, may I change that to a gin martini?'

'Sure?' The waitress scribbled on her pad again before turning around and walking off, leaving Heero to wonder what a lime martini was. He did not have to speculate for long though, for the waitress soon returned with a cloudy drink in a small glass that looked awfully like a triangle on a stick. He paid fifteen dollars for his drink, and the waitress left, although it did leave Heero wondering what kind of life he lived previously if he could remember the name of such an expensive, cloudy, alcoholic drink when he could not remember what his last name was. Lifting the glass to his face, Heero took a whiff of his drink, made a small face at the foreign smell, then took a small sip. His tongue screamed at the unusual taste, and his throat burned as the drink slipped down his throat. He placed the drink back on the tabletop quickly, breathing in quickly and choking slightly. The three men at the next table stared at him, but he waved them off quickly. Thankfully, they decided to leave him with some shred of dignity and returned back to their conversation, while Heero recovered from his small fit.

Still breathing harshly, Heero glared at the drink sitting on the table, wondering if he could make the thing combust simply for being the target of his irritation. He was certain now that despite whatever he had been previously, as long as he liked drinking that drink, then he had at least one masochistic streak. Still, as he watched the thing through cold, blue eyes, he got the urge to take another sip. If not for anything else save that he just wasted a good portion of the little amount of cash he had left on a colored drink which burnt his throat. With a sigh, he grabbed the glass and took another sip, and managed to drink it without too much fuss this time. His mouth still tingled, his throat burned and his stomach felt like he had just kindled a fire there, but it was tolerable. Shrugging, he downed the rest of the glass in one gulp. His brain screamed at him that the drink had been a bad idea, but the rest of him seemed to like it, despite the fact that his entire esophagus was burning in a way he had never felt before (or if he had, he could not remember it). Setting the small glass down, he stared forward once more to see the pianist once again, now in the middle of playing the third movement of the Moonlight Sonata. Unfortunately, this piece did not set off a weird memory, and Heero felt almost disappointed. Still, he knew the piece, which meant something about his previous life, even if he could not quite figure it out at present. Although something about expensive drinks and an interest in classical music put him under the impression that he definitely lived well, whether it be his own wealth or inheritance. Perhaps he would check up his name tomorrow on the city database. The name "Heero" was slightly unusual, and he was willing to bet there were not that many, especially in this city.

The image of the pavilion flashed across his mind again, and Heero wondered for a moment with dull eyes still fixed on the pianist just what it had been of. Was that white house he saw his own? Or that of somebody he knew? Either way, it had been in a rich neighborhood, or so the blue-eyed man assumed. He did not think that there would be houses so large, they could only be described as mansions, in random parts of the town. Unless it had been in another country, which he highly hoped was not true – his twenty-eight dollars was definitely not going to sustain for a trip out of the country.

The sound of metal chair-legs scraping across tiled floor snapped Heero out of his musing. He turned slowly, not wanting to give away his jumpiness, and found the pianist who had been playing earlier sitting next to him. At close range, Heero found that the musician had emerald-green eyes, and his hair was fixed in the most unusual fashion, with most of it hanging neatly before one eye. He appeared to be in his early twenties, perhaps of similar age to Heero (although the blue-eyed man had little ideas as to how old he, himself was), and was wearing black pants, white shirt and a navy blue tie. The look really led Heero into believing that the guy had only just got off work at an office. Deciding that the other man was not going to speak anytime soon, Heero quirked his eyebrow and tilted his head in an obvious question.

'Thought you could make do with some company.' He explained, hailing a waitress and ordering a butterscotch, which Heero's mind instantly registered as the name of a drink. 'I saw you staring while I was playing.'

'Fantasy Impromptu.' Heero murmured.

'Yea.' His companion nodded. 'You like it?'

'Something along those lines.' The blue-eyed man found himself responding. 'It's by Chopin isn't it?'

'Yep.' The other guy smiled. 'One of my favorite pieces, was what got me interested in the piano in the first place.'

'You like the piano then?'

'Sure.' He shrugged. 'I just like music in general really, so in the end, it doesn't really matter what I'm playing. When I was younger, I had an infatuation with the flute, still do, even now. But there are just some pieces the flute can't play, and that's why I learnt the piano. But this is only my part-time job though.' Here, he reclined in his seat and accepted hid drink when the waitress returned. 'It works well enough though. I don't have the cash to buy a piano of my own, after spending the last of my savings on buying an apartment downtown, but the guys here pay me to practice on theirs. So, I'm not complaining!'

'Guess you wouldn't.' Heero murmured, eyes roving back to the stage, on which a girl with red hair was busy playing Beethoven's Pathetique.

'I'm Trowa by the way.' The man introduced, stretching out his right hand. Heero shook it, his grip firm.

'Heero.' Heero returned. 'Pleasure to make your acquaintance.'

'You always this formal?' Trowa asked with a laugh as he took another sip of his drink before setting it down on the table. Heero shrugged, eyes flicking around the bar once again. They were both silent for a moment, with Trowa finishing off his drink and Heero watching the girl play with a glazed look. 'You know, you look kind of familiar.'

'Pardon?' Heero snapped up quickly, eyes fixed on Trowa. The emerald-eyed man shrugged, setting down his glass and stretching slightly. 'I just feel like I've seen your face somewhere. You come here often?'

'I'm not sure.' Heero sighed. 'Walk down the street, spot a bar and enter is what I generally do, so I can not say with any certainty whether I have been here previously.'

'Carefree aren't you?' Trowa asked jokingly, hailing the waitress once again. 'Want a drink? It's on me, since I get free drinks anyway. One of the many quirks of working here.'

'I guess.' Heero shrugged. 'You don't have to, and I'm trying to keep myself from getting too drunk.'

'Another glass won't hurt.' Trowa smiled. 'You look like you can take more than just one glass. So, what's it going to be?'

'Gin martini.' Heero said immediately. Trowa nodded and placed the order with a blue mojito. The waitress nodded and walked off while Heero wondered dully why anybody would name a drink mojito. Trowa seemed to catch his frown, because he shrugged and responded with a "it tastes alright, even if it does sound like something from a childish cartoon."

Somehow, the bright blue coloring did not warm Heero up to the drink at all, even if it did not come in a flimsy little triangular glass.

Duo yawned as he fell back on his bed, still dressed in the same clothes he had been wearing earlier. He felt more tired than he had been in months, and the pounding in his head was promising a horrible headache. By tomorrow, he probably would not have the strength to get up and call his boss to tell him he was not feeling well, not that the slave-driver would care. Even now, the mere idea of a shower was making him groan, just as his stomach made a similar noise, only twice as loud. Duo cursed louder, his voice echoing around his apartment. He was hungry, he had had no dinner, and his stomach was demanding food. Unfortunately, his bones felt as if they would break if he stood, and his head was beating to its own rhythm. As if he was not in enough pain as it was, the phone suddenly began to ring, and when he refused to leave his room to pick it up, his cell phone began to ring as well. Duo let out a cry of exasperation before jumping up irritably, knocking over a chair in the process, and snatching the vibrating, metallic object off his desk. He flipped open the lid with a snap and pressed the evil object to his ear, before growling out a very impatient hello.

'Don't snap my ear off Maxwell.' Quatre's voice sounded through the phone, although his tone was not nearly as sharp as his words, almost as if he was suffering from a long day as well. Duo sighed, turned, and fell back on the bed once more, with his right hand holding the phone in place while his left massaged his temple in circular movements.

'Sorry Q.' He yawned widely, feeling his eyelids drop. 'I've just had a long night.'

'I saw you coming over before.' Quatre's voice was more worried than disappointed. 'Who was the guy you picked up?'

'Some guy who needed a lift to the city.' Duo replied, hoping desperately that Quatre would not ask him for anything specific. He was proud to say that he never lied. True, he bent the truth on occasions, and walked wide circles around them, but it still did not change the fact that he simply did not lie. He was also happy to declare that he had managed to keep to the "run, hide but never lie" motto for as long as he lived, and definitely did not feel like breaking it any time soon. 'I was just feeling a little stressed, and he looked like he could use some help.'

'I was neglected for some random guy you met on the street?' Quatre asked skeptically. 'What a kind friend you are Duo Maxwell.'

'You know it.' Duo grinned, just as his stomach rumbled once again. 'Ah great, Hungers strikes back and with a vengeance.'

'It's ten-thirty Duo.' Quatre's voice was one of exasperation. 'Please don't tell me you haven't had dinner yet.'

'Fine, I won't tell you.' Duo sat up slowly, using his left arm to push himself off the bed. The room swam around him, making him feel slightly sick. He was suddenly reminded of why he had been lying down in the first place, and promptly fell back once more, one hand clamped around his head. Quatre made a concerned noise through the phone, but Duo managed to intercept before the other man managed to warp himself into a mother hen. 'I'm just a little tired, a little irritated, a little hungry, and a tad overworked. I'll take a day off work tomorrow, spend the entire day on my couch and watch some movies which will not mention the word "duty", eat a bunch of cheap and unhealthy fast food, and sleep lots.'

'I take it that work didn't go all that great?' Quatre mumbled. 'And what about the word "duty"?'

'It sucks.' Duo growled. 'Really, really sucks.'

'I'll bring you some food tomorrow.' The Arabian promised over the phone. 'Our cook absolutely outdid herself today, it's a shame you didn't come and enjoy it. But I'll bring you some tomorrow so you won't have to spend the entire day eating two-minute noodles. It definitely won't be as good as it was, but you'll like it regardless.'

'Sure Q.' Duo smiled into the phone. 'Yea, you come tomorrow.'

'It's late Duo, you should rest.'

'It's ten-thirty, mother.' Duo replied dryly.

'Go to bed Duo Maxwell.' Quatre commanded with an air of importance. 'You definitely sound like you could do with some rest.'

'Will do.' Duo smiled, although Quatre could not see him. He murmured a quick goodbye, and his friend did the same, before the line went dead and he was left lying on the bed, staring up at the white ceiling above.

Heero Yuy's face flickered across his mind, and Duo suddenly remembered the look of pure pain when the man admitted that he could not remember anything. His left arm draped itself across his eyes, obscuring his view, but still, Heero's face remained. A test subject for the military; a specimen they did not want. Conley spoke of Heero as if he was a lab rat, whose sole purpose was to be experimented on and killed when the scientists were through. But Heero was not a lab rat. He was every bit as human as Duo was, and felt pain just as easily. For a moment, Duo could picture Heero sitting in a laboratory, dressed in a white smock with tubes feeding into him and surrounded by eager doctors scribbling hasty notes on notepads. He knew that if he was given the choice of a life like that or death, then he would choose death, no questions asked. He wondered dully what Heero would choose when the time came. Would he even give Heero a choice? Silently, he berated himself. He was getting too much into this situation, he was feeling sympathy and pity and most of all, injustice for his blue-eyed target. Duo cut the chain of thoughts immediately, knowing that he was treading on dangerous grounds. He had no choice over the matter, so better keep the situation down-pat and keep himself reserved. It would not do if he stood before Heero and found himself unable to pull the trigger.

Silently, Duo reminded himself that he had promised there would be no more killings, no more deaths. He had killed enough people already, especially when that little boy died. Now that he thought about it, that little boy was much like Heero now: somebody who was inadvertently involved in something that was completely not of their choosing. Or rather, Duo was almost completely sure that Heero had not chosen to be brought back to life. That picture on his coffee table, and the look in those eyes when he met him in person today, told of a man who would have accepted death if that was his only option. Not somebody who would have clamped on to the idea of living enough to let himself be turned into a lab rat for a bunch of curious scientists whose only undiscovered area was the plane of the death.

'I wonder how he died in the first place.' Duo murmured.

The walls did not answer.

Endnotes:

This chapter was rather unsatisfying, if I do say so myself. Even from my point of view as the person who's writing it, I still think that this chapter was a bit repetitive. I suppose I just had to get my nerves back into the writing mode again, or something like that. Trowa was terribly out of character, but somehow, I found that I couldn't really help it. The only way for him and Heero to meet was for him to be a little extroverted, far more than being in character would allow. Sigh. I still ended up splitting hairs there, trying to think of another way for those two to meet. I must say though, I originally did not intend on them meeting at a bar, but somehow, things turned out that way. Which brings me to another point: I am sorry for the lame description of the bar and the drink names and/or descriptions, if I fudged up anything. Personally, I've never been into a bar before. My age won't allow it, and my face isn't exactly mature enough for me to just pass by unnoticed. As for the drinks, the only thing I've ever had that's stronger than beer is some cognac of some brand I cannot remember, and a little bit of spirits (by little, I mean less than half a teaspoon, as a dare from one of my cousins). So, I don't really know about drinks. I did go online to search up the names though! Yes, I did do research. A martini sounds common enough, although I'm not quite sure about the other drinks. Personally, I'm not much of an alcohol fan, but bars are a brilliant place to meet people.

The piano pieces I used in this chapter were all amongst my favorites. I simply adore Chopin's Fantasy Impromptu, and Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, although the third movement is something my Elf friend adores more than me. Pathetique is also a lovely piece. It's often on loop the instant I get home everyday, the CD courtesy of my dear Elf friend.