Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing, have any relation to Gundam Wing, have no permission from those who created Gundam Wing to write this. This is purely for fun, to waste time, and to make other people happy reading and to spread the joy of literature to all those poor unenlightened fellow man out there. I am making no profit from this.

Pairings: 1x2x1, side pairing 3x4

Summary: In the world of assassins, everyone knows Heero Yuy's name. And so he is given a seemingly impossible assignment: to track down one Dee Maxwell, and kill him. But then he gets to know an angel named Duo… and life gets really interesting.

Angels and Assassins

Chapter Three: In Which Trowa Is Cool

Agent Smith – new to the field, on his first field operation – watched the lift doors intently, gun at the ready. No one really thought that the targets would be so careless as to take the lifts down – besides, the floor that the assassins had been on was full of his colleagues, so they wouldn't even be able to get to the lifts – but better safe than sorry. They had guards posted in the stairway, too, every other level. The targets were supposed to be trickier and more dangerous than the already-subdued earring-wearing bunch.

He brought his gun up as the panel above the lift lit up, and the numbers flashed… even the other lift opening, and shocked little yelp that the woman in the lift let out upon seeing the lobby filled with black-suited operatives, didn't distract him. Finally the lift dinged, and the doors opened.

The elderly couple inside the lift jumped upon seeing him, eyes wide, and the old lady pressed a liver-spotted, shaking hand to her chest, breath coming in shocked gasps. Smith quickly lowered his gun, subtly putting it out of sight of the couple. "I'm sorry, madam, sir. We're CIA. Just a spot of trouble, nothing to worry about," he apologized, pressing the button to hold the doors open for them.

The couple exchanged a glance, speaking without words, and he felt guilty at scaring them. "What… what's the problem?" the old man quavered as he helped his wife out of the lift, movements hesitant. "Young man, will anything… happen? To our apartment?"

He was quick to reassure them. "No, no, nothing will happen. You and all the other residents can leave and enter with freedom. We apologize for the trouble."

The old lady smiled tremulously at him. "Not at all. We are proud to have such young men like you, serving our country."

As the moved towards the lobby doors that led to the main road, Smith caught the eye of Nott, one of the two agents guarding the front doors, and they exchanged an amused smile as they both heard the grandmother confide to her husband, "Such a nice young man. Children these days, they aren't as polite as they used to be, just think of our Sam and those rude people he mixes with…"

Nott turned his focus back onto the glass doors, though, when his partner Carson nudged him in the side, having seen their commanding officer heading their way. The lean, brown-haired youth had earned their respect despite his age, and had proved that he was not one to tolerate the slightest bit of slack. The captain, wearing plain clothes, held the door open for the elderly couple as they exited, nodding to them when they thanked him.

Nott and Carson saluted him as he stepped into the lobby. But surprisingly, their leader paused with his hand on the door, watching the couple move slowly down the sidewalk. There was a slight furrow to his eyebrows as he watched them, his gaze intense.

"Sir…?" Nott ventured.

"That couple… what floor did they come from?" The gaze did not waver from the retreating silhouettes of the two grandparents.

Nott and Carson automatically looked at Smith, who looked trapped. "Uh… eleven?"

"Is that a guess, agent?" His voice was soft, but in the sudden silence of the lobby it cut through the air easily.

Smith gulped. "No sir!"

"Eleven." The captain nodded once, and turned to Nott and Carson. "Get some shadows on them now. And I want information on the occupants on the eleventh floor, particularly the unit underneath the targets' apartment."

"Yes sir!"

"Good." He slid his mobile phone from his pocket and quick-dialled a number, watching as two agents in plain clothes hurried out onto the street.

There was a click at the other end of the line. "Kushrenada here."

"Sir, this is Barton. I need some X-ray equipment here immediately…"

"The bartender," Heero muttered to Duo agitatedly in an undertone.

Duo gave him weird look. "The bartender? The CIA!"

Heero glared at him, frustrated. "The captain! The bartender!"

"The bartender?" Duo finally got it. "The CIA?"

"The captain," Heero confirmed.

"The hell?"

Heero restrained himself from rolling his eyes – lover or not, Duo was slow. His mind raced, trying to piece together what he'd heard. How had the CIA, of all unlikely organisations, because involved in this disaster? Were their targets the Reds, or the two of them? Was the captain being the bartender at the club last night merely a coincidence?

No. Nothing was coincidental.

So Duo was their target. But no – that couldn't be confirmed. Their target could be the Reds, and so they could have used Duo as unknowing bait. But once they checked his apartment – and the CIA had the necessary equipment – they'd find the hidden rigging. Then they'd find the apartment below. Then they'd suspect him and Duo of something, because normal people didn't have escape routes in their houses. So those apartments had to be abandoned permanently, but he was still confident that he wouldn't be implicated.

He'd felt the captain's eyes on his back, all the way down the pavement. That alone told him something was wrong – no matter who the target was, the green-eyed man suspected something about the two of them. They had to play the part all the way, and from Duo not making any moves, he knew Duo had felt it too.

"We have shadows," Duo murmured, and it took a second for Heero to understand. Damn. So the captain was confirmedly suspicious of them – he was good. He was smart enough to call in the special equipment necessary to identify the rigging. Heero could see that Duo was put out that they'd been recognized, and he squeezed Duo's hand and smiled warmly at him. Duo managed to smile back, and Heero felt a pang of sadness – the longing in Duo's eyes whenever they used the word 'us' made his heart hurt, and he knew that deep down Duo was still an innocent. He wasn't used to the cloak-and-dagger-in-the-back world of assassins and spies.

Or was he? His ease with disguises… Focus, Yuy. Time enough for that later.

"They're just suspicious, or they'd have pulled us in without wasting time trailing us," Heero murmured to Duo. "We have time, but we need to shake them off."

Duo thought for a moment, and then a smirk surfaced. "I have a plan."

"I'm listening."

DUO SHAPED COOKIES. – grabs and munches – Any Heero ones to go along, so that Duo won't feel lonely being digested? Mmm… I feel inspiration coming on already. And are those more cookies I see? Triple choc ones would be nice.

Hope you liked the chapter! To answer some questions: yes, there will be 3x4 in the future. Somewhere. And sorry, but I don't think I'll be writing a lemon in here… at least not an explicit one. – smirks – I'll see how far I can stretch the rating…

Thanks for all the reviews (and cookies), everyone!

Ashen Skies
"The hell?"