The Stylist
Summary: In this chapter the young men get out into the elements and awaken the sleeping past.
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 Seven
Day 4 - Snowed In
The news program supplied the background noise:
"—Record-Breaking Storm Dumps Two to Four Feet of Snow on Parts of the City-State of Sanc! While the wind will be noticeable today, blowing snow is not a big concern at this time. That will be something to watch for tonight, however, as our next system arrives, bringing the wind and causing blowing of existing snow. That one probably won't produce much new snow at all, but will drop the temperatures drastically. So, for today, enjoy the sledding, staying inside with a blanket watching movies, or whatever you decide to do today. But stay safe and off the roads. Give those snow plow drivers plenty of room to do their work, whenever they can get started—"
Heero and Duo were flipping pancakes and frying bacon when Barton strolled into the kitchen.
"'Sup?" Duo asked.
"Quatre's business chatting, which includes sending me on a mission to recruit help toting clothes from Chang." Trowa snagged a bacon strip and chewed.
"Why?" Duo asked then taking a long drink of coffee.
"The stylist to the stars wants us sporting clothes from some other fashion houses, not just Khushrenada's crap."
"Hurray!" cheered Hilde, sitting and watching the pancake flipping.
"We're back at work?" Duo griped.
"Yeah. It's ten o'clock."
"The man does not rest." Duo lifted crispy, done bacon strips onto a plate.
"No snow days."
He's really driven," Duo said, sighing. He stowed the plate of bacon in the warming oven and lay out more bacon to fry. "So he's sending us clothes."
"He has a shitload of stock from winter, so when we go outside we are to get video of us larking off in style." Trowa looked at Hilde. "You can handle the video, he claims."
"Yep!" Hilde's smile was charged with confidence. "I'm no artist, but I'm a whiz at vids."
"It's a blizzard," Duo insisted. "Nobody's working."
"I'm working," Heero said, being argumentative, "Winner's working, and, so, apparently are you and Barton."
"And me!" Hilde shouted.
"I'd rather help you," Duo said and batted his eyes at Heero.
Heero chuckled. "You'd rather eat. Go ahead and help with the clothes," Heero told Duo with a nudge. "I'm okay here."
"More than okay," Duo said, and gave him a smile and a wink.
Hilde waited until Duo was out the door to ask Heero, "So you're really into Duo, or not?"
"Are you?" he asked, disinterestedly.
"We L2 folk sorta have to look out for one another. I think it's a kinda insecurity and desperation that drives us to snap at anything good when it comes our way. Friends look out for that and remind one another to think twice."
"You think I'm dangerous?"
"Oh, yeah, I know you are. Good looking assassin with money and a secure job, and, if I'm remembering right, hands that can bend steel bars." Her eyebrow lifted with a knowing expression. "That sounds like a man to be reckoned with to me."
"Put that way, I sound like someone you should avoid annoying," he said, with a meaningful glare. "Do you want eggs with your bacon and pancakes? I can cook them anyway you like."
"Yes, please- scrambled." She gave him a shy smile. "I remember Duo talking about you once, way back. He raved about you, like nothing could hurt you or stop you. He was, like, electrified, and believe me not many folks impressed him."
"We were teenagers; passionate to do something meaningful, brainwashed to fight for causes we didn't understand and, to my understanding, hyped up on mixed cocktails of performance enhancement drugs, stimulants, and unknown healing agents."
"That explains some of the stunts you all pulled off. Suicidal. But my memories are kinda foggy."
"I find it notable that you remember…back then," Heero said.
"Not so much that's not Duo-centric," she replied with an air of offhandedness. "Colony buds are like family, ya know? I knew what I was doing- crazy times."
"A lot of us didn't know differently and having no family to fall back on we did what we were instructed to do—more or less. Winner was the exception."
"Did I hear my name?" Quatre chimed in, fresh from his shower. "That coffee smells delicious!" He poured a mug for himself and slid into a seat at the bar next to Hilde. "Good morning. Everything smells delicious! I love your perfume."
"Thanks," she said wryly fanning her neck and smiling for effect. "For all the good it'll do me around this bunch."
Quatre chuckled and watched Heero at work. "You didn't have to do all this."
Heero met his friend's humor-filled eyes. "Yes, I do if I want to eat. Duo's cooking skills are primitive. I doubt Trowa's are any better. I know you can't find your way around a kitchen, so that leaves me."
"I can cook, some," Hilde said. "I'll do the next meal… lunch?"
"Okay," Heero conceded the task. "There's bread we should use before it goes stale."
"- and sandwich makings. I see them," Hilde said from the inside of the refrigerator. "Good enough." She returned to her plate. "Really yummy pancakes, Heero."
"Thank you. Here's a fried egg for you," Heero pushed a plate with the egg, bacon, and pancakes toward Quatre.
Quatre poked the egg until the golden yolk oozed out, mixing with the sweet syrup. "Just like home," he said with a satisfied sigh. "You remembered."
"As if you'd let me forget after the last time I over-cooked them," Heero said.
"I wasn't that bad!" Quatre protested. "I told you I was in a crummy mood because the Turner land deal was going badly. Oh, my… these pancakes are delicious."
"And today's word is… DELICIOUS!" Hilde said with a laugh at Quatre's expense.
From the doorway, voices could be heard, Duo's first. "I have it! Just don't slam the cart into me while I stick something under the door to hold it open… got it." Then Duo shouted, "Make way for the fashion express!"
"I can take care of this, just go get the other one," came Trowa's voice as he rolled a cart of hanging clothes past the kitchen.
"I'll take that!" Hilde cried out as she left her perch at the bar. She jammed the last of her bacon into her mouth. "Is there more?"
"Duo can handle it," Trowa said, letting her roll the cart into the front room and taking her place at the bar. "Looks good," he said, stealing Quatre's bacon.
"Stop that!" Quatre admonished him, but without heat. "Heero's cooking eggs. How do you like yours?"
Trowa looked over at Heero, who stood waiting patiently. "Okay, not rubberized."
Heero actually did an eye roll. "Fried over easy, medium or hard…or scrambled."
Trowa looked at the mess on Quatre's plate. "Cooked."
Heero chuckled at that and broke two into the pan. "Over medium."
"God-damned mother—" Duo grumbled as the cart's wheels caught on the threshold. "Give me a break here!"
Heero dashed out of the kitchen to help drag the heavy cart of clothing inside. "Come have breakfast. I've saved you some. We can eat together."
Heero returned to the kitchen in time to flip the eggs onto a plate, add the bacon and a couple pancakes warming in the oven. "More hard-cooked, sorry," he murmured as he set it in front of Trowa.
"Thanks. Perfect, actually."
Eggs sizzled in the pan, coffee mugs were re-filled, and Hilde opened the window drapes to reveal the bright whiteness of reflected snow, billowing like meringue over the buildings, cars, streets, and anything unlucky enough to be left outside.
"Wow!"
Quatre nudged Trowa and tilted his head toward the window. "Let's go in there and finish eating."
No argument from me. After loading up another couple pieces of bacon, Trowa stoically carried his plate into the front room, following the light of his life to a chair and coffee table with a view of the city. "Chill day."
"God, I hope y'all left me something to eat, after all the hard work I put into that bacon—the smell in here is amaze-balls!" Duo announced.
The more time Duo spent around his fellow colonist, more he fell back on his hometown manner of speaking. Heero found this amusing and smiled as Duo plunked himself on a bar seat.
"I told you I would save you some breakfast. Drink your coffee, and I'll have our eggs done momentarily."
"And you never lie," Duo said.
"No, that's your line," Heero told him. "I lie all the time, but not to you."
"My line? What's that supposed to mean?" Duo asked, puzzled.
"Something you used to say, a lot: 'I may run and hide, but I don't lie!'"
"Really? Kinda stupid, if you think about it. Man… I don't remember that." Duo took a bite of bacon and eggs and chewed thoughtfully. "Did we ever fix stuff, machines together?"
Heero winced slightly, hesitant to tell the truth. He wished he could tell Duo they were good friends, special friends back then, but they weren't, not really, not in important ways. He hadn't been capable of any depth of feeling for another boy or girl. He didn't want to hurt Duo's feelings, or lie to him to protect those feelings.
Duo shrugged as if indifferent. "I can picture us working on something, talking." He looked up and searched Heero's face for a response. "It's starting to bug me, that I can't … that I've forgotten all sorts of stuff. Tell me, we were friends… comrades… competitors… not enemies, I hope?"
"After leaving school, we were not enemies, ever. All those other things, possibly a little," Heero acknowledged. "There wasn't time for anything meaningful. We were so driven to succeed and complete our missions."
Duo shoved pancakes into his mouth to hide his disappointment.
"Duo, we can't change the past, whether we remember it or not. But… we have the now and the future to make into what reality we want. Would you like to try?"
Duo's smile told him he'd said the right thing.
"Yeah, definitely. And thanks for not lying to me, telling me truth, and not taking advantage of my… not knowing."
"You're welcome." Heero poured them more coffee and continued to eat sharing a feeling of warm tranquility.
Breaking the serenity was Hilde's squeal of excitement: "He's got us both Tsubarov Studios and Duke Dermail's Consortium fashions from the winter season. So classic-driven the both of them. I think Khushrenada's cutting edge designs are great, mind you, but they go stale after a season or two. I know, I know, that's the idea—to get folks to pony-up for the newest crap so they don't look passé, but still- Oooh! Sally has labeled everything Wufei grouped so we know what's for what person to put on. Even me! Okay, I'm getting dressed and toting equipment down to the lobby. The rest of you hop on it!"
Trowa flipped through the hangers until he found two sets for him and chose one. "No one else should choose green or you'll look like me," he joked. He waited for Quatre to choose a bright pink and grey number.
"It is not pink," he corrected everyone. "It's raspberry. Come on, Trowa, let's try these on."
Duo was busy on his smartphone, mumbling at what he was looking at, while Heero served him seconds on pancakes. "That game looks fun, but not that one. Too confusing."
"What's fun?" Heero asked.
"Snow games."
Heero didn't comment. He'd learn all he needed to know when Duo was ready to share. If Duo thinks it is fun, it will be.
When Trowa came back out to show off his two-tone green and gold parka and snow pants, Duo called him over to talk about the things they'd need to "play."
"Gotcha," Trowa agreed. "Carrot and rope."
"I think we should roll a cart down with a change of accessories, to make the shots more varied," Hilde said.
No one commented so she went ahead and sorted what she liked and thought was appropriate. I gave them their chance and they all blew it. They've lost their right to complain.
She shoved a selection of clothes and accessories onto the one cart and left the other with extra clothes, scarves, gloves, hats, and one outfit each for Heero and Duo. "Hey, guys! Pay attention! I chose for you 'cause you're too slow!"
"That's okay." Heero carried away his hangers and strode off to change, leaving Duo to deal with Hilde.
"We were cleaning up the mess in here," Duo said, and found some way to object. "You better not have me in red."
"Mr. Chang would never put you in red, Duo. You're in purple and Heero's taken the blue. Hurry up before the rest of us over-heat!"
Ten minutes later, Hilde had taken the cart and her video stuff down to the lobby and returned to the suite to find nearly everyone standing around.
"What happened to Duo?" Hilde asked, finishing the final check on her smartphone.
"Primping," Trowa said. "We'll get started. Tell him I'm getting the rope he wanted."
The last line was directed at Heero, who was already on his way down the hall to Duo's room.
He knocked first. "Duo? Is everything okay?"
"I don't know." Duo sounded a bit off. The knitted hat in a tweedy black and white also had a lot of violet in it. It fit awkwardly with the braid. He'd tried coiling his hair on his head and jamming the hat over it, but it made his head look huge. It bumped out strangely no matter what. "Come in. What do you think?"
Heero came up behind him and set his hands on his shoulders, gazing at him in the mirror. "You look utterly enchanting," he said softly.
"I look ridiculous." Duo blushed at the praise, though.
"I have an idea." Heero pulled at the yarn threads at the back of the cap until he stretched a hole large enough to pull the braid through. Then came the good part, the thing he had been obsessing over for a very, very long time: he took the long plait in his hand, weighed it a moment, finding that it felt as heavy and slinky as he had imagined, and reverently brought it up to his face and smoothed it against his cheek, kissed it lightly, and then poked it through the opening in the hat. As he drew the hat slowly over Duo's head, adjusting the bangs, the braid, and the earflaps, he didn't notice Duo's flabbergasted expression.
"There. That's better," Heero said.
"God, 'Ro… that was the most… erotic thing I've ever seen," Duo whispered.
Heero smiled, satisfied with the results of his spontaneous act. "Look forward to tonight, then."
"Oh, man! Oh, man! Oh…Wait?!" Duo threw his arms around Heero's neck and pulled him in for a kiss. A real one. And then another. "This is real, isn't it? Not some dream or memory… no, I don't dream this great." He grinned.
Heero couldn't help smiling to match Duo's. His joy was contagious. "Not a dream and nothing like this happened before. I'd never forget it."
"But I would," Duo said sadly.
"No, I don't think you would have forgotten us…doing this. I told you before, what I remember wasn't a friendship. Sometimes we helped one another or acted like rivals, but we weren't…intimate. I certainly was determined to get myself killed and you were hell-bent on massacring everything in your way. You and Winner bonded a little and we could have been friends—"
"—if a war hadn't gotten in our way, huh? Well, I wish I could remember more, but I like knowing this Heero. Now. Like this."
Both of their smartphones went off.
"It appears we are holding up progress," Heero said, skimming the message he knew Duo couldn't be bothered to read. "Trowa says to remind me to tell you he got the rope from the trunk. Does that spell 'fun' to you?"
Duo winked. "You betcha!"
(o)
It was a phantasmagoria of shifting light and shadow in the sparkling white wonderland of shifting vistas. Buttery sunlight glowed over the tops of the lowest buildings. Rays pierced between the buildings, sending molten ribbons of gold alternating with long, icy-blue shadows cast by the tip-tops of streetlights. Trees like scabby white and pale grey spiders lent a gothic touch against the intricate stone work of the downtown historic buildings, most of whose architecture remained hidden by soft heaps of marshmallow frosting.
Street signs were buried nearly to their necks, as were a few abandoned parked cars and their out-of-time meters. There was no distinction between the sidewalks and the street—a white carpet spread cross the boulevards uniting unrelated buildings. The giant urns, which in spring and summer held beautiful flowers, now presented snow mounds like dishes of candy floss.
The wind had blown snow up to and over the steps of the Sweepers bank across the street. The little cafe that adjoined it was closed, windows dark. Everything was closed. Law offices, title company, travel agency—all darkened windows. Lights dotted the higher levels of office buildings, so a few others had living quarters in the buildings. Curtained windows reflected the morning light or the white scenery below.
"All right! This is gonna be fun!" Duo enthused. A good night's sleep, a full stomach with no worries where the next meal would come from, and the feel of a kiss on his lips (with a promise of more to come), and Duo was all set to take on the day.
"Actually, it is time to get to work," Hilde informed them, blocking the door out of Long's. "So before you mess up your clothes with wet snow, I need to get some video to post."
Snow as seen from a penthouse suite window was entirely different from snow up close, standing knee-high to shoulder-high as far as they could see. Clearing the windswept snow blocking the door was the first task. Putting shoulders to the task, they forced open the glass door to behold the glistening world of untouched whiteness.
The next thing they noticed was the quiet. No vehicles, no people, no birds, just them.
"Making our way out there is going to be a lot of work," observed Quatre.
"Nature's gym," Trowa said.
"Snowman time!" Duo shouted.
He rounded up everyone to help roll the giant snowballs and pile them into a semblance of a snowman. Trowa jammed a carrot into the "head" and wrapped his designer-label scarf around the "neck". Duo, having raided the trash for soda cans, asked Heero to flatten three of them, which he did effortlessly with one hand. Those became "buttons" in the middle.
"Tomatoes for eyes will make him look demonic, don't you think?" asked Quatre, looking into the bag Trowa brought from the suite.
"I know!" Duo crowed, running back into the lobby. There he relieved two lamps of their light bulbs and collected decorative rocks (personal trophies collected by Wufei on a trip to the Himalayas) from the top of a potted plant. He ran back out with his prizes.
"Here are the eyes," he told Heero and gave him the light bulbs. "I got the mouth in here," he added, patting his bulging pocket.
Hilde danced about recording the boys in their bright snow clothes, laughing as Duo pressed pebbles into a giant grin. "That is one scary snowman. He needs a hat now—use mine!"
"Don't put the hat on him!" Duo explained. "That's where the game comes in. We all haveta line up about 10 feet away, and take turns trying to land the hat on the snowman's head by throwing it.
"'K!" She flung her cherry-red beret Frisbee style at the head, missing the top.
"The player who lands the hat on the snowman's head in the fewest number of throws wins."
And for ten minutes they all took turns "hatting" the man and getting it on video for all time. Mostly, no one missed. A miss usually meant having to plow a new path to retrieve the beret.
Trowa held up the rope. "What's with this?" He'd collected it from the trunk of Duo's car.
"Tie a knot at each end," Duo told him. "'K, then, we gotta dig a trench in… the middle of the street."
Heero held up a hand. "I got this; hold on."
He loped into the lobby and carried out a custom-made, agate-topped steel side table, which had cost Wufei in the neighborhood of $800. He laid it on its side in the exact center of the street and pushed, the flat side pushing aside a wide swath of soft snow. It worked great and fast, and left a neat trench behind him. While he did this, the others trampled paths for the teams to stand in that crossed the trench.
"So we divide into two teams, opposite sides of the trench. Yes, in the paths you all made. The team that pulls everyone on the other team over the mid-line first wins!"
The first time the match was tried, Heero and Duo pulled Trowa and Quatre over the trench in thirty seconds, so the next time, Heero was a team unto himself. It took him less than a minute, hand over hand, feet planted, to win the contest. His strength was impressive and unmatched, and probably not something he wanted the world to see. So, for the video Hilde asked them to "pretend" to work at it and make it less about male competition and more about entertainment."
They shucked their parkas, revealing goose down vests and beautifully handmade sweaters, which Trowa declared, "were probably handmade in child-labor camps."
Hilde suggested that while she moved to a spot with better lighting, "The rest of you lazy bums should now switch out a few of the accessories, which makes my man-handling of that cart of crap down to the lobby worthwhile."
She hoped there was material she could post after going to the trouble. The four young men were gorgeous, posing at times, caught unawares at others. Fur-trimmed hats glittered with a coating of snow. Ruddy cheeks, high color and smiles. Quatre dragging Trowa in for a kiss using his scarf made snow games look like fun for grownups, but maybe not for the general public to view. I'll think about that later.
Duo insisted on another of his games: winter dodge ball. "I had to look that up 'cause I didn't go to schools that played games called dodge ball. There was dodge-the-bullet and jump-the-rats, but… anyway… heh heh. Split into two teams, and then go to town throwing the balls at each other. When someone is hit, he is "out" and sits down. If someone catches an offending ball, the thrower is out. The game continues until all members of one team are eliminated. Okay, so obviously we use snowballs instead of rubber balls. And we shouldn't pack'em so hard that we break bones when we hit. I for one don't want a broken nose today."
In about a minute of within-the-rules pitching, hitting, and catching, the game progressed to become a full-fledge, all-out, snowball fight. Balls of hard-packed snow flew, pelting heads, and bruising chests and backs, and freezing the gloved fingers that created them. There was cursing of the direct hits and near misses both.
And Hilde got it all on video, until the camera was knocked out of her hands and she joined the battle.
"Calling it!" Duo shouted over the battle racket, while holding his hand protectively over his sore ribcage. "The next person who shoves snow under my clothes is dead meat tonight, when you least suspect it."
"Aw, you giving up, wuss?" Trowa ragged on his best friend.
"I am and I'm not too proud to admit I have had enough. I'm cold and wet and ready to go inside, and get warm and dry."
"Me, too!" Quatre agreed. "Hilde, is the camera all right? Did you record what you wanted?"
"Yeah, it's fine. I got lots of good stuff. I wanna go in and edit and upload some of it. Sally will love it!"
No one actually complained about going in at that point.
(o)
Sally met them inside the lobby. "Did you all have a good time? It looked like a lot of fun out there. Here, Wufei had me bring you these sweat clothes to change into. Just leave all the wet things on the floor, and I'll collect them later. Why is this table wet?"
No one answered her concerning the table, but she did get a response.
"Here?" Quatre asked, looking around for a magical private dressing room.
"Yes, here. There's no one watching you. Hilde, if you'll come with me, I have clothes for you, and you can show me what you recorded."
"Wait!" Quatre cried out, objecting to special treatment that he wasn't getting. "Hilde gets privacy, but we don't?!"
"That's right. You boys can pretend you're in the scouts on a camping trip or something. Oh and when you are done, Wufei has prepared us all lunch and after that he's inviting all of you to his personal workout, training, and sparing room. Take the elevator to level 5."
"Quit complaining, Quat," Duo told the blond. "You aren't dirty, you're sweaty, and that's why you're changing into sweats. You heard her, we get to eat and then workout. You don't wanna shower twice."
"I might want to shower four times a day," Quatre insisted, pitching his magenta and lime striped sweater at him.
With his hands running up and down Quatre's smooth skin, Trowa purred in his ear, "I like you kinda… raw."
Eyes fluttering closed, Quatre's knees gave way, overwhelmed by the sudden passionate onslaught. Trowa captured him in his arms and kissed him.
Heero kept his eyes to himself, a little uncomfortable around the other pair.
Duo was more interested in enticing Heero's attention, and asked, "I wonder what kind of training Chang does?"
Heero was focused on dressing quickly, missing the question.
"Martial arts?" Duo suggested.
Heero just grunted, "Hn."
"What about that sword he's got mounted over his desk?" Trowa said. "I think he really knows how to use it."
"He does," Quatre said, untangling himself from Trowa and pulling on a sweat shirt. "He's participated in many contests and won placements."
Heero dressed again made a better participant. "He will be pleased to show off a little." He looked to Quatre for confirmation. "Between the three of us, we should be able to put on a demonstration?"
Quat's face lit up. "Yes, of course! That will be fun."
Trowa threw an arm over his shoulders and drew him close, definitely a territorial move. "Not too fun, I hope."
Duo grumbled on his way to the elevator, "You realize that this gets Hilde out of making lunch?"
"I do, and it can only be to our benefit." Heero smiled and bumped shoulders with his grumpy friend. "Chang is an excellent host."
(o)
"God, it smells odoriferously fabulous, 'Fei-dude!" Duo cried out.
"Thank you—" Wufei looked up from his wok "- I think. Sit. I have to finish and I do not want observers in my way."
Wufei had prepared appetizers, a large vegetable and mushroom stir fry with rice, and a noodle dish with braised eggplant with pickled chilies and garlic.
Sally noted," I put the steam buns and dumplings in the steamer." She smiled and set the table as the others took their places.
"And an excellent chef's helper you have been," Wufei praised her, to the surprise of the ones that knew him best, or thought they did.
"Well, the teacher deserves s-some credit," she responded, her throat catching at the intimacy of his brown eyes on her.
Hilde bounced to her chair, skipping down the hallway and carrying a laptop. "Ooh potstickers! Love those!"
"You're not bringing work to the table," Chang admonished her.
"Naw, just wanted to show the guys something. Look here: we track the number of visitors to our site in all sorts of ways, as do all our partner sites and bloggers. Since smartphones are everywhere, all social media platforms are being targeted, there's lots of ways to measure popularity. Okay, see these numbers?"
"The counter's spinning," Duo noted. "Is that good?"
"Yep. Hits so fast we can't read it. Way in the millions, though. You guys are making fashion history, and that's just barely capturing the results from the winter stuff I just posted. Most is coming from Sally's work with the design teams outside of OZ. We done good, boys.
"People must not have much to do," was Trowa's takeaway.
She closed the laptop and helped pass around the dishes. As they ate, the weather report came on the radio bringing news that road clearing would not reach the downtown area of Sanc that day.
"The next system is blowing in a little sooner than expected, lowering temperatures drastically… Blizzards can occur after snowfall when high winds cause whiteouts-"
"That's fallen snow blowing around," Quatre clarified.
"- and snowdrifts—"
"I got this one!" Duo said. "Huge mountains of snow."
"- which decrease visibility…" The reported continued with local alerts and closures.
"It seems we'll all be here another night," Chang said, smiling. He wasn't disappointed at all to have Sally staying over again.
Sally turned to Quatre, who had just asked her about her marketing angle. "Long's has professional-women-only branding and professional-gentlemen branding, but for the younger men we are pushing gay-vague."
Quatre smiled. "Not metrosexual, thank Allah. That just relegated gay men to flowered shirts with turned up sleeves and steered straight men to pink and a handful of feminine perks like pedicures and scented candles."
"Gay-vague! That's what I was telling them," Hilde broke in. "It's not that straight men look more stereotypically gay per se, or that out-of-the-closet gay men look straight. Young dudes have migrated to a more ambiguous middle ground."
Sally nodded in agreement. "One client of ours said the other day that he was mistaken as gay because he's really into fashion and shops a lot. Now he's just one of many, a fast growing many. And those are the young men we want to be marketing for today."
Hilde added, "It's not just gay men starting a trend with straight men lagging behind until gay men tire of it. Zechs, pardon the reference, even noticed how gays and straights were taking up new styles almost simultaneously."
"You mean that the lag time between gay innovation and straight appropriation is nonexistent now?" Quatre asked, chuckling.
"I think internet purchasing has had a lot to do with that. Men can choose clothes they might not see in stores they'd avoid," Heero pointed out. "Without gay or straight context they are less inhibited." He glanced over at Wufei for a quick correction. "Not that the need for a good stylist will ever go away. Someone has to guide taste."
"Excellent argument." Wufei cleared his throat. "We have left the era when the defining line for men is one of sexual preference," he said. "Now, it's either 'I want to be stylish' or 'I don't.' I can accommodate everyone."
"Especially important is that we don't scare off straight men by pushing gay couples," Sally said. "Which is why some of the video from today won't be used." She shot a direct look at Winner, who smiled back.
"Guilty!" he laughed. "Trowa has infected me with his boundless passion for—"
"—for snow sports," Trowa finished for him, kicking his foot under the table for emphasis.
"So let's go do some!" Duo bounded for the door and was swept off his feet by Heero's grasping arms. "Whoa!"
"Duo, come back," Heero ordered, releasing him quickly. "Chang wants to show us his workout gym."
"'K." Duo submitted without a fight. He just needed to do something. It mattered little what. And the feel of Heero's vise-like grip sent a shock of high voltage excitement throughout his body. Wow!
They crowded into the elevator and rode from the fifth level suite down to the basement. There Wufei led the crowd to a set of doors, beyond which was well-lit room, temperature-controlled, with lots of floor mats, a wall of martial arts tools, and a scattering of exercise equipment.
Quatre and Heero walked to the wall to examine the sword assortment displayed there. They had been in the room before and knew a little sparing was in order. Quatre chose one and carried it to the center of the room. Heero watched Duo out of the corner of his eye and just caressed the sword case.
Duo picked up a 10 pound dumbbell and did some arm curls. Trowa trailed Duo, having a minimal interest in sword play.
Wufei joined them. "Something Sally said made me think: a person would have to be avoiding technology not to notice the excitement they have stirred up." He paused to see how the other two would react.
Trowa stared at him. "You think Duo and I didn't have smartphones on purpose."
"Under the radar." Wufei folded his arms across his chest to match Trowa's stance. "I asked you before if you were hiding your identities. You said no and I believed you, but all of us being together like this has brought on some… disturbing thoughts."
"We were talking about stuff like old memories," Duo said.
"Yeah, coming back to haunt us," Trowa added.
"In some cases," Duo said. "I think we should include everyone if you really want answers."
Trowa agreed. "Quatre and Heero appear to know a lot."
"So does Hilde," Duo said.
"I see," Wufei said, thinking. He recommended Sally and Hilde join the discussion. So they agreed to hold off for an hour, work out a little, then gather for refreshments and a little pow-pow on the events of the past.
(o)
With his excess energy expended after a workout, Duo settled down between Quatre and Heero to listen. He let his braid slither over Heero's thigh, so he wouldn't forget him (heh, heh). Trowa and Hilde sat on the floor near his feet. Wufei and Sally chose chairs, drawing them close to face the sofa.
Quatre agreed to begin the conversation. "We were all fourteen year old fighter pilots representing different colonies. Trowa, you weren't born in a colony, like the rest of us, but took over your namesakes' position to represent colony L3."
"All I remember is growing up in the circus, pretty much," Trowa put in.
"Probably a good thing," Hilde murmured.
Quatre continued, "Our rendezvous point was the aircraft carrier Peacemillion, built and run by the engineer called Howard—the same one Duo has been working for at a car repair shop. Also on board were the five engineers, doctors, and researchers that Heero and I have been trying to find. Sadly the Peacemillion was destroyed, taking the lives of them all, so there's a lot of lost information."
"They called the five of us Colony Liberation Organization, officially, but that's a hard piece of information to find data to confirm it."
"Who's 'they'?" Duo asked.
"The doctors. Others who exerted some control over them, maybe everybody who planned our missions. I don't have names, Duo, sorry." Quatre returned to his story. "We were sent out on particular missions aimed at gaining autonomous rule for the colonies, more rights, trade, control, sovereignty…stopping the United World Forces from extracting the money and resources from them. Each of us had specialized training—Trowa was used for infiltration jobs, for instance."
"Just call me the chameleon," Trowa said, in jest.
"Heero believes he can prove our training extended to mind control through the 'ZERO system', which has had long term after effects causing us to forget the war and our roles in it."
"All five of us had contact with ZERO," Heero emphasized, "with different results."
Wufei shook his head skeptically, and then asked Trowa, "You say some of your memories are returning?"
"A few. Bit by bit."
"Why now?" Wufei asked.
"I'm not certain, but I think the more time spent with ZERO, the less effect on our memory—in the long term," Quatre added.
"It also helps to talk about it," Heero said. "Sometimes it sparks a memory and everything comes back."
"Then proceed," Wufei ordered. "Share some stories."
"Okay," said Quatre. "I first met Trowa Barton in battle. He'd run out of ammunition and surrendered to me." Quatre gave his friend an endearing look. "I asked that we become friends instead."
"I can't believe I was such a hard sell," Trowa joked. "You broke down my defenses eventually."
"Just barely," Quatre said. "I've had more luck the second time around." He blushed after admitting what was obvious to everyone.
"You told a story about me," Duo said, "parts of which come at me in images but not more."
Quatre said, "I told Duo that he and I had camped out together. The entire story, began
With his retreat from Siberia being blocked off by OZ troops. That's right. OZ. The same as the fashion design company we know today. It is an enormous conglomerate, still draining the colonies of their resources, goods, and services. The military aspect of OZ broke off and different factions formed, like White Fang, headed by none other than Zechs Merquise."
He noticed the color drain from Trowa's face. "Are you all right?"
Trowa raised a hand. "Bad memory. I guess fragments are coming together for me now. Just go on."
"Okay, then, if you are sure?"
A nod and half smile from Trowa convinced him to continue.
"Back to my story, then. After Heero chose to self-destruct his fighter jet and, as we found out later, had his body carried away by Trowa," Quatre frowned at Heero. "Which really upset Duo and me. We didn't know you were alive or that Trowa was either for that matter."
Heero shook his head. "I'm sorry."
"It's all right, now," Quatre smiled at him. "That was over and done years ago. Anyway, so Duo was forced to travel with me and the Maguanac Corps to hide out at their base in the Middle East-in the desert. Rashid and the rest of my bodyguard are part of the corps today. Anyway, when OZ troops located the base, the Maguanacs distracted the enemy while Duo and I escaped."
He turned to Duo who was studying his feet. "That is the complete story."
"I'm remembering more now," Duo said. "I'd gone from a frozen wasteland to the burning heat in a day with the thugs at my heels. Sand and sun and…Man, I owe those Mag-dudes my life, and I'm sorry I forgot being your friend, Quat."
"Debts of gratitude have been put off too long," Heero said. "Remember, I awakened at a traveling circus troupe after being unconscious for over a month following my near-death experience in that hell hole Siberia. Thankfully, it was Trowa who found me, rescued me, and guarded me while I healed."
Trowa tipped an invisible hat to him. "My pleasure, I'm sure."
"We travelled together for a while," Heero admitted. "I think now that you didn't trust me on my own."
"Or maybe he had a crush on you," Duo mumbled.
"We all admired you, Heero," Quatre said quickly, before bad feelings could get stirred up.
"Trowa may have saved me once, but I remember that you were always in trouble," Heero said, frowning. He nudged Duo gently and smiled. "Your fighter jet had some problems and you got captured by OZ. I watched the battle on television and took off to find and kill you so you couldn't give up any secrets under interrogation."
"What a friend you were!" Duo exclaimed. "Geez, glad you didn't accomplish that mission!"
"No, I ended up rescuing you instead. And that wasn't the only time!"
"Really? Couldn't resist me, huh?" Duo laughed.
"I guess, deeply imprinted on me was a death wish and a soft spot for Duo Maxwell." Heero chuckled at the strange looks the other gave him. "It wasn't just you with plane engine problems. Wufei, your fighter had the same limitations that Duo's had and you had a rare failure, escaping death, and then getting captured."
"I was in a prison cell with Duo—"Wufei whispered. "It was cold and dank… nothing but a threadbare blanket."
"I was pretty beat up," Duo said. "You were sleeping."
"I was meditating and coming up with an escape plan," Wufei said sharply.
Duo laughed. "As I remember it, I said that if you developed an experimental method for getting out of that stinking shit-hole, and if you needed a skinny guinea pig, one bursting with enthusiasm, then I was-"
"You wanted me to consider you at my service." Wufei smiled wryly. "I never got the chance."
Heero sighed. "I busted the two of you out of that prison. Lady Une was on her way to unlock the cell, but was shot."
"Thanks, 'Ro—just in case I didn't tell you back then."
"You showed your gratitude in your own way."
"Oh! Like not making you pay for stealing parts off my plane!" Duo crowed. "I remember being so damned mad at you for that!" He grinned. "See? We did fix machinery together! I knew it!"
Heero gave him a little smile. "We all have people to thank, like you, Sally. You could have had me killed when I was helpless. Do you remember seeing me in a hospital?"
Her eyes widened. "Oh, my…yes… I'd heard there was a young man with an amazing healing ability and I wanted to see for myself. It was an Alliance hospital."
"Oh, wow! I got him out, didn't I?" Duo asked. "Yes! Duo to the rescue! I knew he was a rebel like me and I sure didn't trust anyone on the other side, sorry, Sal. And what does he do in return? Steal my plane's parts!"
Everyone laughed and the tension reduced.
"You saved me from sure death once," Hilde said. "I'd been a former OZ volunteer and Duo had convinced me to change sides, so to prove myself, I sneaked into as OZ installation to steal data for you pilots and when I was making my escape got nearly killed … but I was saved by Duo."
"Cool… I'm a hero," Duo said with a smile.
"You did all right in the end," Heero said. "We all soon met up, using Howard's ship as our base of operations, like Winner said."
Quatre continued on, "Heero and I met the engineers or doctors, who explained that they had installed in our fighters a new system known as ZERO, which would increase our skill level, but to do so would effectively take away the pilot's free will. Mostly in all their trials to date this had driven the test pilots insane."
"And they wanted us to fly with that on?!" Duo shouted, incredulous. "Assholes!"
"Yes, indefensible behavior," Quatre agreed. "In fact, Heero was forced to test the ZERO system to gather data. He destroyed an abandoned warehouse, but I stopped him before his sanity was lost, and we escaped to Sanc."
Duo perked up. "Hey! Something like that happened to me, too. Geez, I'm remembering all this crap! I was working on salvaging the parts to fix my fighter, when I was captured by OZ and forced to test… was that…? It could have been the ZERO System! Yeah, I was about to lose my mind when Hilde rescued me."
"Oooh! I'm a hero, too!" Hilde chortled. "You know, there's something about ZERO you might not know—"
Unfortunately, what nugget of information Hilde was about to convey, would have to wait a while longer. Quatre was intent on telling his story.
"Once, while you were imprisoned, Duo, I had my first ZERO interaction. It was horrifying and has left a mark on me," Quatre said, saddened by the memory of such a terrible experience. "I was unprepared for the mental stress caused by ZERO's neural interface. None of us was, really, but my empathic abilities made me most vulnerable. It drove me to the point of insanity and I destroyed an OZ-occupied resource installation and an evacuated civilian base. During a second assault, Trowa managed to bring me back to my senses by blocking my attacks with his fighter… sacrificing himself… and seemingly perishing in the resulting explosion."
His voice cracked. His eyes filled with tears at the memory, and then streamed down his gentle face.
"You saved my mind," he told Trowa.
"I'll take your word for it," Trowa replied in a hushed voice. "I don't recollect a thing about that."
He raised a hand and brushed away the wetness.
"It may have been a Sweepers vessel that found you at sea and took you to back to the circus. We may never know for sure. But somehow Duo located you and gave me the coordinates to find the circus. Seeing you alive and working there was… a relief."
"You told me that I'd lost my memory. I'll believe that." Trowa reached up and patted his lover's knee.
"That's right," Quatre said. "Catherine was adamant that I leave. She refused to let you return to the battlefield. But then as I prepared to leave, a battle between the colony rebel group and OZ spread into the area and I took off to defend the colony. Despite the fact that you still remembered nothing, you agreed to fight with me in hopes of recovering your memory."
"We were terribly outnumbered." Quatre turned to Duo. "But just as things were getting bad, we were saved by Duo, and ended up back with Howard on the Peacemillion."
"You can all thank me later," he said, grinning. "I'll think of how."
"That ZERO system only did one good thing and that was helping Trowa get some memories back." Quatre sighed.
"Oh?" Trowa queried him.
"Yes." Quatre went on, "The five of us were reunited on board Peacemillion. You borrowed the fighter with the ZERO system in order to free the circus and Catherine's colony from one last rogue OZ unit. Because of the ZERO System, going out of control, you nearly destroyed the colony until I stopped you, but then I saw it happen… your eyes cleared." Quatre touched Trowa's hair and tucked the bangs behind an ear. "You'd recovered your memory in the process."
"Mostly, and not, apparently, for long," Trowa put in.
"And when I said we were all affected, I was partially correct," Quatre said. "One of us was fine with ZERO. Wufei, you were the only pilot of the five of us to never… capitulate to the effects of the ZERO system. Yes, you were momentarily vulnerable, but you managed to retain control of your faculties during combat, likely owing to intense mental discipline as a result of your martial-arts training."
"I think I have heard enough—for now," Wufei said abruptly and standing suddenly to put an end to the discussion. "You've given us all a lot to think about."
He didn't want to brood over his role, his past, at this time. He needed to absorb what had been said first. And talk to Sally Po, his sounding board. His supporter. His lover.
"I think we need a snow-play break before bed," Duo announced.
"There's that second set of dry clothes in you suite," Hilde reminded everyone.
"You still have energy?" Sally cried out. "Count me out."
"I'm out as well," Wufei said. "Use the elevator from the back. I'm locking up the lobby," he told Trowa. He smiled at Sally. "You and I can… watch a movie."
Sally closed and locked the front door against the elements. "Not for long," she whispered with a smile he couldn't misinterpret.
TBC