The Stylist
Summary: In this chapter Duo and Trowa learn about the fashion business, settle some issues, and find trouble
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.
Warnings: AU, male/male pairings, language
Chapter Four
Day 2
"So glad you could make it this morning," Wufei told Trowa and Duo, seated across his desk.
"Sarcasm noted," Trowa mused.
"We're late," Duo admitted, with explanation, "but it's your fault, 'cause your team didn't stock our kitchen with enough food to keep a gnat alive. So we went out for breakfast."
"Objection to dietary restrictions logged." Wufei jotted this on his device. "Before we get started on today's agenda, I wanted to remark on last night. "
Since there were no objections, he continued, "First, I received texts and phone calls from both Mr. Winner and Mr. Yuy very late last night and again very early this morning. These came in the form of complaints, pleas, reprimands, orders, and in one case, accompanied by tears. It seems you charmed the pants off both Winner and Yuy yesterday—"
He glared at Duo and Trowa, daring either of them to comment, "- and I mean that figuratively."
"I figured that," Duo said innocently.
"I appreciate it, I think," Trowa said.
"I believe you to be men of honor," Wufei said tartly. "Returning to my point, it seems they were under the impression that Duo is wasting away, under my direction. 'Let Duo eat!' was included in the texts from both men. They were extremely concerned that I am starving Duo for the purpose of, and I quote: 'turning him into a pedophile's wet dream.' Setting the record straight: there is no longer a plan to slenderize either of you, and never one to make you a nubile target for sexual fantasies."
Wufei frowned at Trowa and then Duo. "Eat reasonably. I have arranged for you to approve menus for which your kitchen will be stocked for the remainder of the week."
"Don't bother," Duo said with a wave of his hand. "We'll handle our food. We are adults."
"I understand, but it is in the contract we signed and so I shall have a proper pantry supplied," Wufei said and updated his notes. "Next! I had assumed you had smartphones. I thought everyone over the age of 5 did. I was wrong. I should have noticed the missing contact numbers on the forms you signed. To compensate for this oversight, I am providing you with the latest in personal devices. Independently, both Winner and Yuy have extended offers to teach you all you need to know to utilize the untold wonders within. Yuy will want to make them secure as Fort Knox. Enjoy."
"Cool."
"Later. On. Your. Own. Time," Wufei informed them with emphasis, and then resumed his lecture. "I know you hadn't expected the video and photos invading your personal space. May I remind you, I gave you money to buy dinner? I had no idea Winner and Yuy would show up. I had no idea they would want to join you for dinner. There was never any plan for them to accompany you to dinner or to a club for dancing later. That was wholly serendipitous."
"How so?" Trowa asked.
"Yeah, good for who?" Duo double downed.
"Whom," Wufei automatically corrected. "Your faces are all over the internet. You are the talk of the town. But. No one knows who you are, or you'd have cyber-stalkers after you. You are mystery men. What's more intriguing, there is no information about either of you, besides drivers' licenses. Absolutely no previous internet identity. This makes you truly remarkable men."
If there were any, and if it was summer, you could hear crickets it was so quiet.
"I asked Mr. Winner if he did background checks on his employees. He does, but part-time parking attendants don't get an in-depth check. Nothing came up, so you were clean. Interesting. If Mr. Yuy were doing his security, a few flags might have been raised. I'll wager he's been looking intensely into solving the mystery of who you are."
"He shouldn't try too hard," Duo said.
"There's nothing to know," came from Trowa.
"You'll have to talk to him. I have no authority over his activities," Wufei told them. "The fortunate fallout from last night's adventure was completely unforeseen. A lot of free publicity. Who was that model dancing with one of the most eligible business men in Sanc?—Morning Post. Reclusive bachelor, Heero Yuy, seen celebrating with new internet darling.—Evening Star. And those are just examples among many."
"Unfortunately, the presumptive press concluded that Mr. Yuy was gay, which he has given me no reason to assume is true. So, I sent out notifications that Mr. Yuy was engaged by Long's for personal security, providing him a cover story, and is perfectly reasonable considering Mr. Winner's high profile presence."
"Did Heero ask you to do that for him?" Duo asked, curious. He was reassured that he wasn't the only one who couldn't read Heero Yuy's preferences from his mixed messages.
"No, he didn't comment one way or the other. His primary concern was first for your health and secondly for your safety, since he believes you have hidden your true identities, or something sinister." Chang's raised eye brow asked the question "Is this true?"
"These are our true names," Trowa offered, but that was all he offered.
With a clipped nod, Wufei continued, "Don't worry. He is always suspicious and I think he yearns for more excitement in his life- like covert missions."
All three men expressed something by smiling, and the subject was dropped.
"Back to what I wanted to tell you," Wufei said. "Had we months to prepare, I would have splashed full-page spreads in all the Sanc state fashion magazines, and arranged training and shows for you. But that's not possible."
"We aren't gonna be runway models?" Duo moaned as if disappointed.
"Unlikely. My assistant, Sally Po, has been preparing and collecting material that will appear on several influential blogs; spreading word about upcoming exciting publicity events, while she's been out visiting design houses." Mostly to himself, he murmured that she was expected back tonight. "I have three websites clamoring for pictures and bios. You two are the hottest topics in a very noisy media. I want to work with that."
Duo drew a deep breath and let it out audibly. "Whew! That was some spiel, 'Fei." Duo went on, "My take-away is that I get to eat and get a smartphone —"
"—and we're already famous," Trowa put in, "Haven't you won your bet, then?"
"Thank you, Mr. Barton, for acknowledging our small triumph," Wufei said. "If I wanted to, I could call Mr. Khushrenada now."
Duo interrupted, "You mean that good looking, auburn-haired man who was holding court with the tall drink of champagne in platinum blond?"
"Mr. OZ himself," Trowa said, "with the well-bred, patrician air about him. To the manor born."
"Yeah, the stuffy one," Duo agreed. "Personally, I kinda fancied the artistic blond."
"That was Zechs Merquise, the highly refined one, tastefully turned-out but doomed to sink into a tragic, darkly performed gothic denouement." Trowa said this as a dramatic recitation.
Both he and Duo cracked up into laughter which lasted several minutes. Duo dried his eyes and waved his fingers in Wufei's direction.
Trowa cleared his throat to say, "Sorry, we watched Wuthering Heights the other day. It had a profound effect on our sensibilities."
"Sensibilities!" Duo cried out and fell to the floor in uncontrolled laughter.
Totally serious, Trowa suggested Meiran bring them tea, and Wufei actually complied. Soon, everyone was sober and refreshed.
"Hey, thanks for the winter stuff, 'Fei," Duo said. "I really needed a coat like this last night."
"You are welcome, Maxwell. The colors suit the both of you, I think."
"Emerald green's a little brighter than what I'm used to," Trowa said, touching the soft fabric at the cuff of his turtleneck. The color contrasted with his taupe slacks. Resting on a chair by the door where he'd dropped them, was a cream cashmere scarf, matching butter-soft gloves, a grey and ivory herringbone coat, and an artificial fur hat. "And I don't know about the hat."
"The Russian Cossack style is a classic. That one is made from an imitation Sanc Grey Wolf material that's make you appear six inches taller. Give a try. It will keep you warm if the temperature continues to drop."
While they were sipping tea, they learned about the plans for the day.
"Zechs Merquise worked up dozens of prototypes for his spring and summer lines."
"The ugly green-?" Duo began.
"It is my understanding that some of the color palate has been reworked."
"That was fast," Trowa commented.
"Yes, computer assisted pattern making and assembly make all this possible in such short time frames. The clothes are quickly constructed and may not be in their final forms, although, I understand he has orders for some of the lines ready for shipping." Wufei stood. "The limousine is outside. You will be at a formal photo-shoot. Merquise is generously lending us his studio time and expertise today and possibly tomorrow. He wants his designs to look their best, of course, and is doing us a favor, so behave."
"Seems like he's helping you against his boss in this bet thing," Trowa pointed out.
"I'd guess he has a crush on you, 'Fei," Duo teased.
"OUT!"
(o)
The limousine negotiated the dark streets, still wet from the late night's melted snowfall, weaving sinuously and rocking Duo into a drowsy state. The temperature currently hovered above freezing. Trowa buttoned up his coat and stuffed his hands in his gloves, resting his head against the window, while the car journeyed through the city to the foot of Mount Sanc, rising out of the landscape in the opposite corner and seven miles from the Palace. A golden blade of light cut through the clouds, washing the building in its hue.
"I feel like we've journeyed to another place," Duo commented, giving his friend a sideways glance.
Gone were the black-knotted, wrought-iron gates, graceful arches, and tall towers of the old city. Here, new modern buildings with reflective windows and sharp angles infiltrated the landscape.
"Or time travel exists," Trowa suggested.
"If only," Duo said, sighing. "Think Wufei was mad at us?"
"We're making him appear brilliant. He loves us." Trowa brushed the hair out of his face. "Yuy hates me. Maybe you can make a friend of him."
"He doesn't hate you. If you want my opinion, I think he's jealous of how close we are," Duo contested.
"You mean, he's jealous of me," Trowa challenged.
"That would be true if he is attracted to me," Duo said. "The jury's out on that. You heard, 'Fei. The dude's concerned and I'll bet frustrated that he can't dig up anything on us."
"No chance of that."
"Right," Duo mused. "I think I'll tell him what you and I were talking about over breakfast, but not until this bet thing is over."
"You trust him that much?"
"I will by then, or I won't."
"Let me know what you decide. I might want Quatre to know."
"If he doesn't figure it out on his own. It's common knowledge the dude's a genius. Yuy might be a techno whiz, but Winner's frightful intuitive and smart."
"Yeah, and hot, too." Trowa grinned. "I thought he devised the dinner media event to see what the investigative reporters might dig up about us."
"I think Wufei put that notion to bed though, don't you?"
"I do. I believe Quatre wants to follow our progress because he feels responsible for getting us into it, basically."
"And you like him," Duo concluded.
"Definitely, yes."
"I get this weird reoccurring feeling I've seen him before. Heero, I figured out from school days, but it's like I've known him on a deeper level or something."
Trowa shook his head. "Nada and nada, but then I have all those gaps." He pointed at his head.
"So, what's your phone number?"
They were just exchanging contact numbers when the car stopped in front of a white marble and glass building.
"Austere." Trowa summarized. He jammed the Cossack hat over his head. "Fits in with this wind out of Siberia."
"Didn't have snow where I grew up," Duo told him on their climb up the fifty steps to the main entrance.
"I managed to avoid it for the most part."
"Boots would be nice." Duo dashed up the last few steps. "Love these loafers, but snow will ruin them."
"More security cameras than the Parliament House," Trowa observed in a lowered voice. "Patently obvious to the point of ostentation."
"Yeah, Long's is discreet," Duo said. "If Chang oversaw the security installation, he's extremely good. I hardly noticed any of it until the second day."
"He's impressive all around," Trowa said. "I think I'll tell him."
"Heh, one of these days-" The rest of what Duo had to say would remain unsaid, so aghast he was at the building's interior. "—damn."
Inside the cavernous entry hall, the only clue that it housed a fashion studio was the gigantic "O" and "Z" carved out of a granite wall the size of a monument.
"Do you think he uses the old OZ logo on purpose?" Duo wondered. He began stripping off his hat and gloves in the heated room.
"I do," Trowa answered, removing his hat and scarf, and turned toward the sound of tap, tap, tapping heels echoing off the stone floor.
A well-groomed, middle-aged woman wearing a slenderizing navy suit, pearls, and a headset slipped around her coif appeared from an opening in the wall. She stood behind the stone barrier-partition, perhaps her desk, and withdrew a pair of capacious tubs.
"Good morning, gentlemen. My name is Pearl. Please place your outerwear in these bins. That's right, coats, too."
"Look, Tro', they labeled the containers with our names," Duo said brightly.
"Smartphones and all media devices must remain behind. Sorry. You won't need them. Mr. Merquise doesn't allow interruptions and it minimizes security risks."
Once they had complied and the filled baskets were tucked out of sight behind the desk, Pearl smiled. "Mr. Merquise is waiting for you, stage two."
"Where's that?" Duo asked. "First time, you know?"
"Take the elevator. Get off at level two and follow the gold signs." Pearl was no longer watching them; her interactions with them completed. There were plentiful cameras watching their every move; she didn't need to.
"Follow the yellow brick road," Duo whistled the tune.
"I won't be sad to remove this turtleneck soon," said Trowa, who was overheating.
They entered a sitting room done in shades of grey. Displayed on the walls were poster-sized shots of award-winning designs, complete with framed award plaques. Across from a granite-look sofa was a flat-screen TV. In the corner was a bar, possibly. Everything was hidden behind white cabinetry, but they could hear the hum of a refrigeration unit near the floor.
"There he is by a wall of props," Trowa said.
"Hey, he ties back his hair, too," Duo noted.
"Maybe you can introduce him to a braid over cocktails," Trowa said with a smile.
Highly unlikely, thought Duo.
Perfectly fitted suit and tie, groomed to the finest detail, no stray hair overlooked, Zechs' hyper-polish came off as intimidating, and Duo guessed that was exactly what the man meant it to do. Merquise wore a smartphone headset. He looked seriously unfriendly and perturbed. He was talking to an invisible listener at the same time pointing out changes to "the set". Lights, reflective screens, ankle-breaking cabling strung perilously—all of it covering the space of a large auditorium. Two drafting tables. bookcases overflowing with books, tools, supplies, and rolls and rolls of fabric, and body forms draped in fabric samples took up another portion of the studio.
The call ended abruptly when Zechs noticed the presence of prey, clients. "Good morning, Duo, Trowa," Zechs greeted them on first name basis. There was no time given for them to respond beyond brisk nods of agreement.
"We're running a little behind schedule this morning, but it can't be helped. As you might remember from our first meeting, I said I wanted you as OZ models, if you show well and win the bet for Mr. Chang. You won't be strutting runways in shows—those are over for now."
"I woulda thought the stores were already ordering spring stuff," Duo commented, remembering what Wufei had told them.
"It's true. We already have some designs in full production, filling orders to flood retailers in March. These are more cutting-edge avant-guard. The accessories are new and fresh. After our introduction this week, everyone will be clamoring for those for summer and the jackets for fall."
"How are we a part of this introduction?" Duo asked, since Trowa had gone silent, his way of dealing with uneasy situations with a domineering authoritative figure in charge.
"You'll see today. The publicity for the collection will be packaged for distribution to influential social media on all platforms, blogs and websites." He looked them both over carefully.
"Chang has done a good job on you; I'll have to thank him later." Zechs flashed a smile, and then continued.
"Today, you in particular, Duo, will be introducing our new 'street cred' line, which will be huge in fall and winter, but we will give them a sampling for summer ordering. Additionally, also part of our street-wear spring collection, Trowa will best show off the global-explorer line. It should ensure sales and possibly bring in additional orders."
Zechs ran a hand over Trowa's back, neck, chin, turning him a little, bordering on too intimate a caress for a professional. Duo's eyes narrowed. Trowa had that distant look in his eyes, turning inward with his thoughts. Duo would have to watch Zechs, be on the lookout for bad behavior. Trowa was just so vulnerable.
"- But I'll put you both in a wide range of styles for the shoots. Some avant-guard. Experimental and Gender-fluid mark the OZ label even in the street clothes selections. We believe that the body is your canvas, and my designs allow the customer to create his composition artfully and make sure every element is part of the story: from your clothes to your jewelry, makeup and even your attitude."
"Street clothes aren't as cool as avant-guard stuff?" Duo asked, letting him slide over the "gender fluid" comment.
"Designers, like myself, create predominantly for street wear. Avant-garde street style is often regarded as extravagant and head-turning, a way of making your presence known. Then you have haute couture, which no longer is a focus of mine. It attempts to create highly conceptualized, elaborate pieces - the exact opposite of pret-a-porter {ready-to-wear}."
Zechs paused to think a moment. "Ready-to-wear avant-garde is generally meant to be versatile and accessible, and it features bold, often masculine cuts, monochromatic palettes and a remarkable amount of layering. Hmmm, which reminds me…" He smiled lasciviously at Trowa, ravishing his body with a glance. "I haven't forgotten my desire to get you both into swimwear, but that will have to wait until tomorrow."
"Aw, shucks," Duo murmured.
"This is Lulu and she will be assisting you. She knows what you need to wear for each shot. We have many outfits to go through today so let's get on it!"
Duo couldn't believe his eyes. Lulu was a dead ringer for Hilde Schbeiker from his old colony past. Black hair worn a lot longer than I remember and wide, pretty blue eyes- the crazy pink glasses are new. But, not that mocking smile. Yep, it was her. Will she say something?
He blinked.
She winked. The secret would remain in place; at least, he hoped that was what the wink meant.
"I'm so excited to be working with you today," she gushed. "I've seen all these vids of you two from last night! It's fun to read local gossip," Lulu said as she walked them over to the rolling carts, one for each of them, loaded with hanging clothes.
"Only when you aren't the subject of it," Trowa responded in an arch tone.
From a distance they could see lots of khaki and gauzy white shirts, black and white stripes, muted animal prints, and glittery, colorful shoes.
"Takes me back to my time in India rustling up cats and elephants for transport," Trowa said, his conversation skills returning once the commanding blond man had backed off. "Particularly the clown shoes."
Duo laughed loudly. He knew this wasn't an entirely true story. Trowa had loaded animals fresh from rehab in a zoo's outdoor habitat and relocated animals used in the circus out- a zoo-circus trade program. It had been how he met his long lost sister and joined the circus. But not in India. It had been in Africa and it was part of his cover as a mercenary at the time. And that was a dark period in Trowa's life he had scarcely shared with Duo.
Duo was put in narrow-striped black and pearl-grey cotton pants, a wide black belt with a dangling glasses case, also in black, alongside a purposeless loop of chain that hung to mid-thigh. Up top, he was poured into a second-skin tight, black short sleeved knit shirt with four buttons.
"We want that with the white trench," came from Lulu. She pulled out an ankle-length white trench coat, which had zebra stripe silk trim and lining. "And this scarf in (yes, here it comes) green (gack green) and peach (eh?) tropical print."
"Seems like a lot of stuff to wear when it's hot," Duo muttered, tugging at the messy little scarf.
Duo wrinkled his nose at his image in a mirror, but held back any further comments as to the muddle he felt the clothes made of him. He had no trouble looking grim and tough… with plenty of street cred, whatever that meant to Merquise. Actually, Duo figured he knew what it meant to a man like Merquise. Fashion that could make you think you would be accepted by ordinary young people who live in cities because you have the same styles, interests, culture, and opinions. But Duo knew credibility required a lot more. Commanding a level of respect in an urban environment came from experience, struggle, survival. Duo had been through a lot of everything "street" in his lifetime.
"Hey, Tro'. My street credibility is undeniable."
Trowa ran his gaze over him, evaluating his appearance, but only shrugged, as if he could avoid unwanted attention by his silence. Zechs had stepped away, momentarily to yell in his phone.
Duo tried another sure-fire trick to engage Trowa's mind, again trying to get him to stop tracking Zechs. He started an urban dialect dialogue: "I waz in prison bout two years grand theft and pushing coke, but check out them looker gunshot wounds I got, yo."
"Damn you got street cred yo! You rap?" Trowa replied, matching his dialect. He glanced over in the designer's direction, switched to Sanc upper-crust dialect and then said, "I'm from The Sanc Palace and got a 4.0 from Sanc Exclusive University, Limited. My parents were both royals and would still be together if it weren't for those damned colonials."
Duo laughed. "Man, you are wack; you don't got no street cred, you sucker!"
"Stop with the goofing around!" Merquise ordered them, closing in to hover over Trowa. Once again he stood chummy-near in the confined space, adjusting a scarf, adding another senseless little purse on a long shoulder strap, which he seemed absolutely mad over. Touching. Touching. Touching.
Later, after shooting a load of pictures, Duo was stuffed into loose, shiny black fabric slacks with a black and white diamond patterned shirt and a grey and cream striped unstructured jacket. Again, silver chains hung at the sides from a black belt that jangled as he walked. He considered how they might come in handy strangling Zechs, if he didn't leave Trowa alone.
There was a wolfish quality to the pale, tall designer in the way he stalked Trowa, circling, asking prying questions, intimidating him. Not that Trowa gave much away. He just wore the outfits, followed directions, and endured. He appeared languid as a lion ambling across the savanna, stomach full, looking for a shady place to nap. Only Duo knew of the turmoil going on inside.
Duo attempted to distract his friend with talk. "Definitely fall stuff. The only thing summery about these clothes are the sunglasses, which I like, and the shirts are worn open at the neck. No ties." He looked down at his feet shod in black patent leather slip-ons. "And no socks. Kinda impractical, I think."
But Trowa was busy dressing and looking dour.
During a break, Duo watched Trowa parade around in front of the cameras wearing high-waisted khaki slacks with a pair of matching belts worn in parallel, and tight over hips. These were paired with an animal print over-shirt. Change of slacks. Change of shirt. The belts switched. Fake leather bag hanging low to his hips. The top shirt buttons were left open and sometimes filled in with a tied cravat in the miss-matched black and white diamond pattern. Once, Trowa wore a safari hat and black sunglasses like Duo had worn, bored look perfectly in place.
Another take had him in khakis with a white belt, white shades, and a bag with pointless straps and chains worn with a white strap crossing his chest- the matching man-bag was definitely going to be an OZ thing, some only big enough for a pack of cigarettes or a small phone. Loose khaki adventure-safari-styled shirts had chest pockets and epaulets (for holding those frustratingly useless crossover straps in place), and in some cases, sported sewn-on badges, which reminded Duo of suitcases and trunks in old movies decorated with travel stamps. Again, sockless shoes glimmering in silver and bronze seemed to be the Merquise view of trekking shoes. In most cases the pants legs were worn three inches too short either as a finished hem or folded up to mimic a cuff.
"Was this to make one think you'd just had a growth spurt and out-grown your pants? Duo asked. "Or to look as if you were ready to cool your feet in the waves?"
Lulu stifled a laugh, barely, but everyone else pretended not to hear him.
Next, Trowa was stuffed into pants in shiny light grey with khaki patterns splashed helter-skelter with that peachy and green combination Duo had worn in a scarf. It looks like mock camouflage.
Animal print shirts with plain khaki pockets for a boring changeup. More silly purses and chains and leather pouches for storing ammunition or drugs Maybe I should make that suggestion?
Duo's turn came again and he was shocked to find himself decked out in a three-piece suit all in leopard print and finished off with sparkly blue shoes. He really wanted the shades to hide his face. Who would wear such a travesty?
His mind began to spin as he switched out of one crazy combination and into another. When he caught himself taking a liking to a pair of cream and brown striped high-waisted pants with belts, he worried that he was being conditioned to accept the look. He wanted to tell Trowa about his revelation, but couldn't spot him.
On the rack—what were those? Duo got a glimpse of shorts, too short, and swimwear, too brief. Tomorrow was going to be hell if those were what he'd have to wear. Where had Trowa gone off to, he wondered?
While he'd been under the lights, he'd lost track of his friend. As far as he could tell, Trowa was nowhere in the vastness. Possibly he was in the men's room. He located the unisex lavatory sign mounted over an open doorway and toddled off in that direction. On the way, he noticed some good soul had delivered an ice chest with water bottles. Good idea! He grabbed one, popped the cap, and marched ahead, guzzling the cold liquid.
What happened next was over quickly. He just reacted automatically to a situation he knew Trowa was incapable of getting out of. Outside the restroom door, Duo saw Trowa pinned to the wall in complete submission, Zechs leaning over him and doing the talking. Trowa's replies short and faltering. Duo reading insecurity, fear, and emptiness under a shell of complacency.
Without weighing the consequences or even considering them, Duo launched his attack on the aggressor, tearing the bigger man off his friend and dragging him down the short hallway, and then he punched Zechs hard enough to make his point.
"Tro'! You okay?" Duo cried out as he ran back to Trowa, who seemed stunned and didn't speak.
Strong fingers dug into his shoulder and spun him around. Duo didn't see the blow coming. He just felt as if a jackhammer had torn his stomach out. He folded up, unable to breathe, staggering back into Trowa's arms. He collapsed to his knees. Trowa seemed to come out of his stupor and held onto Duo, hauling him back onto his feet while he got his breath back, and then half carried him out of the corridor, past the props.
Zechs stood trembling with anger, his ash-grey eyes burned with rage. "Get the hell out of my sight!"
They staggered into a dressing room, and searched for their clothes. Lulu rushed in, carrying the clothes they had arrived in.
"Get dressed and I'll call the elevator. Don't worry." She patted Duo on the head and disappeared.
"Friendly," Trowa said.
"Old, old, friend," Duo said. "I told you about her—salvage job in L2?"
"Different name?"
Duo nodded. "Time to split this scene."
They wasted no time following the golden markers to the elevator and from there to the lobby. Without a word, they retrieved their outerwear from the containers, and rushed outside, pulling on the coats as they went.
"Well, that's that," Duo said as they began their descent down the hundreds of steps.
"It is that," Trowa agreed.
Duo sighed. "I sure screwed that up. 'Fei's gonna blow."
"Thanks, though." Trowa shrugged. End of discussion. "I don't see the limo."
"Long walk back," Duo noted.
"We have plenty of afternoon left."
"Right. Walking then."
Duo set out in one direction and Trowa grabbed his arm and pointed him in another. Duo believed he had a sixth sense enabling him to find his way around unerringly. His friend knew better.
"Let's not make the walk any longer than we have to," Trowa said. "I do have plans."
"With Quatre?"
"Who else?" Trowa sighed. "It's a reconciliation meeting; hopefully, apologies will be accepted."
"Good luck. Heero's making me dinner."
"Oh, yeah? Well, hope our luck improves."
(o)
"Hello, Trowa. I'm so happy you agreed to see me again."
"It was unlikely that I was going to evade you for long," Trowa smiled. He wrapped an arm over the shorter man's shoulders and steered him out the door of the jewelry store. "Let's walk."
"If that's what you'd like. I could have met you at you home, you know, or are you avoiding that particular building," Quatre asked, divining the problem in a way that troubled Trowa a little.
"The exercise is good for me. I usually get a great deal more at the circus."
They left the Blusard's building under a threatening sky and chill wind, wandering aimlessly, going nowhere in particular; just getting used to walking side by side.
"Tell me about your circus job," Quatre said.
Trowa chattered on for several minutes about his acrobatic work and being a target for his sister's knife throwing act. "My favorite part is caring for the animals, the big ones, like the elephants and lions. Tigers and leopards, too."
Quatre oo'ed and aw'ed enthusiastically, encouraging him on, but soon Trowa ran out of stories. He wasn't like Duo who could prattle on about the simplest things and turn them into epic events.
"You look like a Russian prince in that hat."
"Chang thinks it's my best look. Maybe in another lifetime, I was one?"
"Anything's possible," Quatre said, still sounding uncertain. "Are you comfortable being out in public with me?"
"Your security detail seems capable of fending off a few noisy journalists."
"You SEE them?"
Trowa nodded but did not elaborate on that topic. Eventually, they took shelter primarily in the subject they had in common, Chang Wufei.
"Chang explained that no one set us up. That you were just checking up on us and were so blown away by our awesomeness that you couldn't leave us alone." Trowa's smiled widened into a rare grin. "No ignoring two magnificent male specimens like us."
Quatre chuckled a little and slapped him on the arm.
"Wufei is a very, very good man, as close a friend as I have ever had," Quatre told him. "Heero is, too, but he has been harder to get to know. I have a multitude of sisters, but only one I can confide in. That's it. There are work friends and business acquaintances, but really the people I can count on and call true friends form a tiny priceless group that I treasure," Quatre said. "I may have a lot of things, but really close friends are exceptional."
"Exclusive brotherhood."
"By definition, yes." He avoided Trowa's eyes and laughed nervously. "I don't know what came over me. "Sometimes one feels freer speaking to an outsider than to people one knows."
Trowa shrugged. "Probably because a stranger sees us the way we are, not as he wishes to think we are."
"Are you quoting someone?"
"No, I've just made it up to impress you."
Quatre smiled. "And how do you see me?"
"Like a mystery."
"That's the strangest compliment anyone has ever paid me," Quatre said in a husky whisper.
Trowa bowed.
Which made Quatre laugh. Trowa wanted to hear more of that laugher, which is why he decided not to bring up the fiasco at the studio. It didn't put him in a good light and Duo, well, he didn't need more people complaining to Chang about him. That would come soon enough, probably.
He came up to Quatre in the half light and took his hand. He stroked his palm in silence, as if he wanted to read the lines on his skin. His hand was shaking under his touch. Trowa caught himself tracing the shape of his body under those beautifully fitted clothes. He wanted to touch him and feel his pulse burning under his skin. Their eyes met. He felt sure that Quatre knew what he was thinking.
He sensed that with everything the successful businessman wanted at his fingertips, or at his beck and call, Quatre was lonely.
"I'd like to invite you to one of my homes some time," Quatre said. "It's on the water."
"Sounds nice. What's keeping you?"
"I wasn't certain of the reception I'd get tonight, or I would have made plans."
"I'll bet your security guys can bring around a car and sweep us away."
Quatre chuckled. "Oh, Trowa…you are …"
"Hot stuff?"
"Too hot to touch tonight…for me."
"Fair. I'd like to get to know you better and move on from that outsider designation I have now," Trowa requested.
"Well, let's start with dinner, but after that I'll have to drop you off and go home. I have a 5:00 AM transcontinental call to make and back-to-back meetings all day. What's buzzing in your pocket? Is that your smartphone ? You got it! That's wonderful! Here's my personal contact numbers… try this one first, then this…or this. Now, I really want yours… Oh, my! Trowa! Wufei has left you a lot of messages. Do you know how to read them?"
"Yes," Trowa said calm as a winter lake at dawn. "It'll wait."
"I wish we had more time tonight, but… Here we are: Chinese."
They had come to a stop in front of a building. Trowa read the name, "Kung Pao Bistro. You intentionally led me here?"
"Ha! I could let you think it was by accident, or… I could let you think I masterminded it all, which makes me more of a mystery, doesn't it, if I just keep you guessing?"
Trowa shook his head and hid his smile behind his bangs. "Don't make me regret giving you a compliment."
(o)
Duo had decided not to talk about the episode at the studio. There was no sense giving someone he would like to impress a reason to reject him. If he wrecked Wufei's free publicity plans, then let Wufei take it out on him tomorrow. Mind made up, he parked near the entry door as Heero had instructed, turned over his car key, and waited while the lobby manager examined Heero's business card and called Heero to verify his identity. Duo guessed his junker car did not impress. As he watched his car pull away from the curb and enter the underground garage, he thought how he very well could have been that parking attendant.
Duo appreciated the irony of the situation. Maybe I have entered another dimension?
The lobby manager held the elevator door for him, and smiled. "Penthouse, sir," the man called out Duo's destination, and then pulled an iron gate across the closing elevator door. No one could break through and get to Duo!
"Oh wow! This place is like a secure vault," Duo said.
The elevator stopped on its own at, hopefully, the correct floor. There were no numbers to select. When he stepped out, there was a short hallway and one door. Before he could knock, it opened.
Heero, dressed in deep blue slacks and shirt, all matching, greeted him. "Hello, Duo. Come in."
"Hi! This place is… awesome!"
"I have half of the floor. The other side is Winner Corp security offices. We don't share elevators. Would you like a tour?"
"I gave you a short one, so fair's fair, sure."
Heero pointed down a hall "master suite that way" (apparently off limits) crossed the gigantic living room, which, like Duo and Trowa's suite, had ceiling-to-floor, wall-to-wall glass, labeled it "the living room", and then beckoned Duo down the far hall to "my office."
Duo, wide-eyed-amazed, looked inside the vast room. "Looks like Mission Control in here."
Heero appeared pleased by this. "I'm responsible for Relena's… the Prime Minister's security. I have a monitoring center here, when I'm not at the palace."
"Relena-?
"Darlian -."
"Darling? You two are pretty close, huh?" Duo tried to be witty and knew he failed as he watched Heero's face grow stony.
Heero got the implication of "Relena, darling", and frowned before replying, "Don't pretend to misconstrue what I said. Darlian is her last name. We attended school together at one time. Now, we don't run in the same social circles."
"Sanc Academy," Duo said. "I went there."
The raised eyebrow indicated plenty of doubt without Heero saying a word, Duo figured.
"Just a year. You obviously don't remember me, but I was there. We played pickup basketball a couple times." Duo added a bit more, "Shorter, braid under the uniform jacket? Same me."
"I remember."
Duo couldn't interpret Heero's expression, but determined that is was something like: How could you have gone to the most prestigious prep school in the entire kingdom and turned out parking cars for a living?
"Is that good remember or bad remember?"
Heero didn't answer. "This is unexpected." He was staring at his sleek, black smartphone. "I'm sorry. Someone's coming up."
"Who shows up at the lobby uninvited?" Duo wondered. With all the security "the best in Sanc" could provide.
"Relena," Heero welcomed her stoically.
Before Heero introduced her to Duo, Relena greeted him. "Hello, Duo."
It was as if the world had stopped spinning. She smiled at Duo and his ears went up in flames. He nodded at her, tongue-tied. He realized this was the one girl he'd been in awe of, oh so many years ago. Her safety had been his mission for a short time.
"Oh, so you know each other?" asked Heero, intrigued.
"Of course we do, you know that- an old school chum. You remember those wonderful school days, don't you Heero?" she smiled. "Duo was the only one who ever had the courage to tell me to my face that I'm stuck up and vain."
Heero looked at Duo with astonishment.
"That was years ago," Duo explained.
"Well, I'm still waiting for an apology."
Duo didn't know where to look. "Listen, Relena, um, Miss Prime Minister, about that insult, I promise I—"
"I was only teasing you, Duo. Besides, you were right, I'm a bit stuck up and sometimes a little vain," she said. Her laugh was light and unaffected. "I came over to see if it was you, who I remembered." She leaned in to whisper, "You always seemed to be around and where you were, so was Heero. I thought I had two boys with crushes on me. My mistake. You were my competition, Duo. He was very fond of you back then, you know."
Duo raised his shoulders and looked down. Fond? That was all news to him and likely untrue.
"He was always talking about you. I just hated you," she admitted with a smile.
Duo's eyes met hers: blue, frank, fearless. He didn't know what to say, so he just smiled. Now he felt she was ensnaring him with her honesty.
"I called Heero this morning and he told me he saw you last night."
"Is that a problem? I need permission or something?" Duo shot back.
"You don't like me very much, do you, Duo?"
The question took Duo completely by surprise. Disarmed, he realized he needn't feel so defensive.
"No, that's not true," Duo said. "I don't know you well enough anymore to say one way or the other."
"That's fair."
She pulled Duo to the side and tilted her head closer so only he could hear what she had to say. He had to brush away her soft blonde hair from his eyes.
"Take care with him, Duo. He's very…vulnerable. Your birthday celebration, well, it's all over the internet … speculation that he was on a date. And if it's true, you may have just outted him, I believe, against his will." She kissed Duo's cheek. "I think I'm in the way here," she said, backing to the door. "Goodnight."
Heero wished her a good night and closed the door. "We should get back to the kitchen. I have a few things to finish." He led the way back to the cutting board. "Don't feel the need to tell me what she deemed important to keep secret from me."
"Are you being sarcastic?"
"No. I really don't want to know." He fed Duo pieces of carrots and jicama. "You might as well eat these here."
"Hand-fed appetizers. Saves washing a plate," Duo joked, and nibbled Heero's finger with the next sample.
A quick, startled glance was his reward for the provocative move. Heero returned to his cooking, lifting a steamy pot to fluff the rice with a fork. "This is ready," he observed.
Getting the conversation back on course, Heero asked, "Why did you leave?"
"I didn't! Still here!" Duo grinned.
Heero crossed his arms over his chest. "School."
"Okay. Back to that. Fine. I could say it was too hard and I failed out, but it wasn't." He affected an upper class accent and said, "Sometimes these illustrious institutions offer a scholarship or two for the sons and daughters of the gardener or barber, just to show their magnanimity. I was on scholarship."
"So why leave?" Heero asked impatiently.
"You remember the colonial unrest at the time? The money was cut off, what do you think? "
"The colonies wanted more autonomy," Heero supplied.
"Yeah, close enough. So, funding for projects like educating the homeless kids got pulled to rev up the military spending."
"Your scholarship money was withheld and so you had to drop out."
"Yeah, but instead of hauling ass back and going all-out military, like they expected me to, I got a job." Sorta true.
"You had to find a place to live."
"Listen, I don't think we know each other so well. There's some personal stuff I'm not ready to share, okay?"
"Want to tell me why we celebrated your 21st birthday last night when I know you are the same age as I am?" Heero asked, still pushing for answers.
Duo shrugged. "Do I have to?"
"Unless you are in some witness protection program."
"Man, if I was I sure as hell fucked that up!" Duo laughed.
"Totally." Heero smiled (finally!). "Whoever did the clean-up work on your past, did a hell of a job, but you can't erase memories. When Relena called the night I first heard about the contest, she recognized your name. Her step-brother had told her—"
"Her step-brother? What's he got to do with this?" Duo asked.
"Zechs called me and his sister, too, to press me into an investigation of you and Trowa. Zechs Merquise is her brother, long estranged. It's complicated."
"Zechs? The moody, hot dude with the unreal hair (and lecherous, slimeball attitude)?"
"Khushrenada's lap dog?" Heero chuckled. "Something Chang said of him once, and, yes, I don't like Zechs very much, if that's not clear."
"Or her."
"Relena is okay. Once she understood I wasn't aspiring to be her boyfriend, and left the bodyguard position, things improved."
Duo took all that to mean Heero and Relena were not an item, bringing him one step closer to knowing what his preferences were. Baby steps. He didn't trust what she had whispered to him. But is seemed as if Heero didn't know what was going on during that time or Duo's role being there. Good. It should stay that way for now. "So when did you go from…school boy to her bodyguard? And now her security?"
"After graduation."
Well, that sounded like he'd found Heero's limits. No job talk. "Cool." Duo hoped Heero was done summoning up memories of old school days and poking around in his past.
Heero filled plates with rice and stir-fry. He asked Duo to carry them while he gathered up silverware and glasses. "There's a choice of drinks in the refrigerator, if you would get me something… whatever you're having."
He chose two bottles of fruit juice and joined Heero at the table. "This is like the best seat at the restaurant—the window seat."
"I like observing the boat harbor when I eat," Heero said.
"Yeah, always something going on out there. This is good! Very authentic."
They chose eating over talking for a few minutes, which, Duo noted, just gave Heero the opportunity to get back to his favorite talking point.
"So, your previous record in Sanc has been scrubbed, including your school record. In fact everything about you and Trowa up to the last year has been expunged. My job is security, Duo. I know how nearly impossible it is to have no past, and how expensive it was for someone to have it done so thoroughly and expertly."
"Boundaries," Duo said, hoping that would be enough.
As he stared into Heero's eyes he thought about how he would have loved telling him how enchanting they were, but no. Heero would wait forever for him to answer. Duo sighed. "You are not going to let this go, are you?"
"It's my job to protect the Prime Minister."
"That is just so bizarre. Okay." Duo drew a deep steadying breath. "If I tell you I am absolutely no threat to her or Sanc or anything related to them, will you believe me? NO? What if I also promise to tell you the entire truth one of these days? It's not the kind of thing I reveal to just anybody, get it? You have things like that too, right? You haven't been very forthcoming about yourself."
Heero seemed to agree enough to let go of the subject, and gamely guided the conversation to Duo's woes over the crazy clothes he was being asked to wear.
"Is modeling something you like doing?" Heero asked.
"At first I thought it was kinda fun. But… it lacks substance and… let's just say I kinda burned that bridge today and leave it at that, okay?"
"Could that be related to your pocket beeping?" Heero asked, eyebrow cocked.
"Oh! My phone!" Duo yanked it out. "Wow… messages."
Heero leaned over to look. "You really must have pissed off Chang. Would you like my number?"
Duo almost missed the second part because Heero ran the two statements together so fast. But he caught on. "Yes!" and entered Heero's information and recited his number. "Yeah, never turn down an offer like that," he said, smiling widely.
Heero cleared his throat preparatory to speaking about something difficult, Duo guessed. Duo put his smartphone away, holding down the off button to silence it and give him his full attention.
"What's on your mind, 'Ro?" Duo wanted to encourage him to talk.
"Something I have come to terms with… feelings… I wondered about years ago and squelched- to be dealt with at a much later date."
"Hey, I am in no position to judge you. I'm about as flawed as they come," Duo said meaningfully.
"You should know… I need you to understand… this is the first time I ever asked a man over, one I took an interest in."
Duo looked at him dumbfounded.
"Honestly, I don't have much experience with this… none, to be precise."
Duo examined his body language carefully, intrigued by this revelation. He smiled supportively. "The hardest part is the discovery. But then there's nothing like the first time. Nothing. You don't know what life is until you undress a person for the first time. A button at a time, like peeling away the hot cornhusk wrapper from steamed tamale…on a winter's night."
Heero devoured him with his eyes as greedily as if Duo were a piece of chocolate.
Duo was filled by an almost painful desire to kiss him.
"If you have a technical query, I'm like a doctor when it comes to such matters," he quipped.
Stupid Duo!
Heero was being serious, bearing his soul and he goes and makes a flippant remark like that. Duo knew his off-hand manner was inappropriate, and saw Heero shutter his eyes. Yep, it seemed Heero read his thoughts and felt differently.
"It's getting late…," Heero murmured, looking terribly uncomfortable.
One part of him wanted to stay, to lose himself in this exciting intimacy. But sensing Heero's uneasiness, Duo just nodded and said nothing, letting Heero escort him to the door.
"Thank you for the dinner. I enjoyed it," Duo said, holding out a hand politely.
Ignoring his formal gesture, Heero placed both hands on Duo's arms, leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, barely grazing it. They gazed at each other, and this time Heero searched his lips, almost trembling.
Duo's lips parted inviting a kiss, and it seemed as if Heero's fingers were reaching for his face.
At the last moment, Heero moved away and looked down. "I think it's best if you leave," he whispered.
Duo thought Heero was about to change his mind, but before he could say anything, Heero closed the door. Duo was left on the landing, feeling his presence on the other side of the door, motionless, asking himself what had happened in there. When he reached the lobby, he could still feel Heero's face, his voice, and his smell, deep in his soul. He carried the trace of his lips, of his breath on his skin to his car and on the drive home.
TBC