Duo Maxwell Ac204 March

In life, there were good days, and bad days. And terrible days.

Days that started well and went quickly downhill, and days that started poorly and brightened unexpectedly.

Today was one of those days that started poorly and just kept getting worse making you wish to just crawl back to bed and sleep the day off, hoping the next would be slightly better.

Except he didn't even had that luxury. Up at wee hour for the delivery of a shipment he was supposed to take at home and ended up waiting for him at the workshop. Since the delivery guy had other thing to do than wait for him, he had to call three friends before finding one close and awakened enough to keep guard on the shipping until Duo managed to get there.

Of course, the bus was late, because more detour due to maintenance. Nino, Howard's former second was quite late for him own workday and somewhat pissed. Meaning he had to haul the whole delivery by himself.

It just became worse by the hour.

Until the very last drop : when, at seventeen, he got a phone call from an angry customer asking him to come meet her at a parlor on the other side of the colony.

Once upon a time, Duo had met a nice, charming old lady, who wanted to offer her delightful grand-son a most beautiful gift. He crafter her a lovely doll, with long flaming hair, Trowa-green eyes (because, man, even before he started having a crush on the guy, Duo couldn't have helped noticing those amazing eyes) and one of his most accomplished learning abilities to widen the number of games they could play together.

Too bad, the charming old lady seemed to be a bit senile, or hadn't seen her grandson for a very long time and her fond memories were pretty far from the young teen's temper. When Duo arrived to the parlor, a fancy place that really didn't belong in the Dumpster, it was to be greeted by one horrifying sigh.

Duo had learnt, after he had to say good-buy to his Death-Scythe and a good part of his life, not to project on objects. Despite the care and pride he put into creating his Dolls, Duo never empathized with his creations. They were work of art, painstakingly crafted, and they were just that : objects meant to be sold.

Still, he couldn't have helped the wave of pity then outrage he felt when his eyes landed upon the disheveled Doll, torn clothes, and mangled arm. How the Hell did they managed to almost wrench one of his Dolls arm? They were made to be sturdy.

Their skeletons were made after the Gundams schematics after all.

_ ...don't know what she thought... ... humiliate my son! ... ... Always resented me... ...

Through his own anger and disgust, Duo didn't follow much of her rant. Only that she was an utter bitch, and next time he should up the random variable to his Doll's decision making so they wouldn't win too much.

Because all this was just for that : once the game's rules and strategies memorized, this Doll couldn't lose against a spoiled ten year old brat. Except for the games of chance like 'snake and ladders' where you could just follow the dices.

Utterly drained by all the restrain he had to muster to not murder the bitch, Duo ultimately picked up the Doll, did certainly not offer for a refund _they should have just come to him, he would have easily fixed the issue_ and turned his heels before his restrain snapped.

The place was closer to his house than the workshop so he decided to head straight there, Doll in arms.

_ Boy, you're a mess. What did they do to you...

When stepping in the shuttle with so many people staring the Doll hid its head into his neck, he didn't think he could get any more depressed. He realized he was wrong as soon as he opened the door on an empty living room and remembered Trowa telling him he wouldn't be available for a few days.

He settled the Doll on the counter/dining table and seated himself next to it. He was hungry, somewhat, but couldn't muster the will to either try to fish out something edible from his fridge or call for delivery.

He crossed his arms and flopped his head over with a loud sigh.

That was one of the worst days. Even going to bed seemed too much of an effort.

He jumped from his slouched position when a firm, polite knock echoed in the too empty living room. (empty, besides the clusterfuck of takeout boxes and discarded cans he only cleaned once a week. Or so. And yes, his attempts at learning how to cook had been short lived. Sue him!)

Who could that be at this hour? He wasn't expecting anyone. He pondered about simply pretending he wasn't there when a second knock decided for him. He got up, then blinked at the Doll, left arm still extended. Was it petting his hair just a second before? And, thinking about it; a Doll shouldn't be self conscious and hide from stares.

That consideration flew from his though upon opening to his late visitor.

_ Fuck me...

A delicately raised eyebrow answered him.

_ Don't think so. You look like Hell warmed over.

_ Gee... Tactful as ever 'ro." Duo opened more widely to let Heero, his wheeled suitcase and sailor bag get in. He did feel like Hell, not even warmed over. "Nice to see you too.

It felt even more weird to see Heero in his living room than it had been to see Trowa there for the first time. And at least, then, he had been warned. He blushed at the mess his place was in.

Baggage at his feet, Heero looked around, taking in the large living room doubled with an open kitchen and the table/counter to separate the two spaces.

_ Erm... the guest room is door on your right," Duo suggested, anxious to be able to clean up a bit without looking too ashamed of his living's state. He completed: "The bathroom is behind the kitchen, my room far left.

So Heero carried his stuff to the guest room, and Duo was left with little time to tidy-up a bit.

_ Recon he could have called first." He muttered, half to the Doll, half to himself. The Doll who had been staring at the guest room door, looked to his direction and followed his hurried trail.

Duo shrugged and started on sorting out the trash; the few food leftover to the compost, cartons and tin cans for recycling, glass bottles he would bring back to the shop. Colonies were a small microcosm, nothing could be left to waste. Especially there, they didn't have the money to bring more stuff from Earth so often.

He hadn't had time to do much when Heero came back from the bathroom. Duo frowned as the rush of water he could still hear.

_ I'll do it, you take a bath.

The time his addled brain took to register the words and try to formulate a protest, Heero had already dragged him to the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Duo huffed and passed a hand over his face. Ten minutes. Heero had popped back into his life ten minutes ago. And he was as bossy as ever, like he never left.

Next he rubbed his stomach, old remembrance of the several times Heero had punched him in the gut. Geez... Well... the bath was already drawn, might as well not waste it.

He turned the faucet off, shed his clothes and soaked in the warm water, braid dangling from the hem. He really didn't want to have to dry his hair tonight. Too tired.

He woke slowly, first to the smell of food cooking, then to the goosebumps raising on his skin when he moved in the cold-ish water.

_ Heero?" Some part of his brain registered that he was naked with his friend leaning over the bathtub. He should feel at lest a bit self conscious about that. Probably.

_ Hm. Still me. Your bathtub needs a heater.

_ It's not an ofuro.

_ Too bad.

Heero got up to grab his bathrobe and hand it opened to Duo. Naked ass be damned, he wasn't going to pass the offer. Heero helped him into the garment, roped it close snugly around the waist and went away as a breeze.

_ Dinner's ready, don't fall back asleep." Duo glared uselessly at the half closed door.

After a quick detour by his room to get some comfy clothes, he followed his nose and growling stomach to join his unexpected guest.

_ You had all this in your bags?" He chanced, taking his usual seat at the counter and eyeing the several dishes spread over it. A move caught his eyes. The Doll was still seated where he had put it but now sported a sling to support its broken arm and curiously bending over the plates and bowls.

_ I made do with what I found in there.

Duo was impressed, he didn't even know he had that much left.

_ How much of it was past the expiring date?" His hungry stare turning suspicious.

_ Doesn't matter, cans and dried food doesn't get spoiled that easily.

Duo sniffed once and shrugged. He's eaten far worse than an outdated can and still lived.

_ Let's dig then!" He concluded with a little more enthusiasm than he really felt. Until the first spoonful of broth. "Hell... that's delicious!

Heero, smirked, shook his head and thanked his praise as he served his own bowl.

Come to think of it...

_ Where did you find those?" He barely remembered having china. They were beautiful, delicate dishes painted with tiny fishes in deep blues and soft, goldish browns.

Heero's spoon indicated the sideboard that held the mini Gundams. Where Duo and Hilde had stored the stuff they barely ever used.

Now... thinking about it, he vaguely remembered finding Quatre's gift (because who else would be rich and foolish enough to get him such precious dinnerware?) too fancy to use as everyday dishes and put it there for special occasions.

Turned out, the only parties they ever threw were definitely more the kind to get carton plates out than china. And Quatre never ate home whenever he came.

_ Tableware is meant to be used, Duo.

_ They look expensive, we were afraid they would get chipped.

_ Better chipped than forgotten to dust off in the bottom of a cupboard.

Duo was still too tired to argue, so he conceded the point to Heero.

_ You sure it came from Quatre though? It's not really his style.

Nice food was reinvigorating, and put some warmth in his insides, but couldn't Heero stop with his twenty questions game? At least for today...

_ Who else? Duh. Unless you're loaded and are the one who send them to me alongside the palm-tree Quatre promised me. No one else I know could afford it.

Well, technically, Howard probably could, he also knew Duo well enough not to gift him with easily breakable things. Relena too, but he knew it didn't come from her. Her gifts were always of the edible kind.

Heero looked at him for a long time, blank. until Duo squirmed and looked away. What was he supposed to say? He cocked a curious head at the Doll. It seemed to listen intently at their conversation, eyes darting from one to the other. It was also plugged to Heero's laptop (since it definitely wasn't Duo's, it must be Heero's).

Duo has half a mind to tell his friend off about that. Heero could have at least asked before he started to meddle with his Doll.

When he looked back to his friend, he wasn't at the table anymore but coming out of the guest room a clothed wrapped bundle in his hands and handed it for Duo to unwrap.

The bowl was chipped in three places and stained with paint. Otherwise, it was almost identical to the one Duo was eating from. Lighter blue and greenish birdies; still, it was obviously from the same artist.

_ Wufei offered those to me and Trowa when we moved in together.

Good thing Heero had waited for Duo to put the bowl on the counter before speaking. Chips and paint stains would have been the least of concern...

Wufei?

_ Oh...Shit... Guess he had a good reason to be mad at me then..." He muttered dejectedly.

_ There... wasn't any card?

Thankfully, Heero's tone only held mild, neutral puzzlement. The last thing Duo wanted to hear right now was judgment or pity.

Duo shook his head. The package had arrived during one on the 'dew week' when the colony systems would send more moisture at night to help the crop growth. Coincidentally, Duo and Hilde had not been there during that week. When they did come back, it was to find a lump of a dried up package siting next to a blooming palm tree.

They had to soak it whole in the bathtub to extract its content.

Heero simply nodded his acknowledgment and served some more fried rice in Duo's plate.

_ It was four years ago. Lots of nasty stuff has been said in between. I'm... not sure there is anything to salvage by now.

And as bummed as he was about having ignored Chang Wufei's extended hand years ago, Duo wasn't sure whether he wanted to try. They never really had a good relationship to begin with, and there had been so many things between them since then.

The closest they might have become was during one of Duo's darkest hour, that became one of his worst nightmare. And Wufei had mostly ignored Duo's flailing to concentrate on surviving. Just a little longer, just in case Heero or Trowa would come back and deliver them.

In the end, their savior had been tho one they least expected. They hadn't known at that time how poorly the two other pilots had been faring against Quatre's misguided rescue attempt.

Heero said nothing but got up to the jacket he had hung behind his door. When he was back, it was with a small, white carton in hand. Carton he handed to Duo.

On it, a number. Just that, a phone number, bleeding black embossed on stark white, and nothing else.

_ What is it?

_ The number of Wufei's current residence. For whenever you feel like giving him a call.

GMT+1. Duo wondered, was it Europe or Africa? Italy, according to Heero.

_ Desert?" Heero offered. Duo nodded and tucked the card in his repertoire. Tonight was not the night he would make a decision about one Chang Wufei.

It was only later, after Heero shoed him to bed once the dishes washed and dried, Duo wondered how Heero knew where Wufei was staying. And why did he have cards with his phone number on?

Pickaboo

Duo woke up to the soft sound of dishes clattering together and the aroma of fresh coffee. Mind still blurry from the first good night sleep he had since a long time, he picked up his discarded night clothes to put on on his way to the source of the enticing scent.

He stopped at the corned, taking in the homey feeling of having someone cooking in his kitchen. How many times had he woken-up after a rough night to find Hilde flipping him pancakes, humming to herself and whatever tune playing on the radio.

Except it wasn't Hilde in her babydoll, it was Heero in a blue undershirt and yoga pants.

Heero wasn't flipping pancakes but steering a pot of white-ish stuff that smelled of honey.

He wasn't humming, he was talking to the Doll in a language Duo didn't recognize. Could have been Polish, or Japanese, or a mix of both.

The little thing still had its arm in a sling. It was kneeling near Heero, again looking intensely at was he was doing.

_ Are you teaching it to cook?

_ She was curious, so I showed her.

Duo huffed, it was just a puppet a bit smarter than most, they couldn't be 'curious'. Then he shrugged, people had a tendency to humanize things to feel more at ease with those, maybe Heero was one of them. It wouldn't hurt anyone if he were.

_ And... care to show me?

_ Take your coffee and a seat. It'll be ready soon.

Duo pouted a bit, mainly for show, and headed to where the coffee pot was supposed to be. In was supposed to be, supposed was the important term.

_ Heero? Coffee?

_ To your right. Near the toaster." Came the immediate reply. Heero hadn't even looked up whatever he was doing. As on cue, the coffeemaker was gurgling its finish. Duo filled the two mugs waiting by its side and handed one to the cook who drained half of it in a swig.

_ Why would have I ever pegged you as a tea guy? You chug coffee even more than I do.

_ Racial stereotypes?

Probably.

Heero came by with the pot he had been steering in hands and Duo absentmindedly reached for the hot pad and landed it between their bowls.

_ Actually, Trowa's more a tea guy.

_ He didn't complain about the coffee when he came.

_ That's where the problem lies, he barely ever complains." Heero answered with a sad smile. "Well... one of them. I'm not exempt of annoying habits either.

_ You still turn to grommeling when deep in your work?

Heero glared and bit and smiled softly at his attempt at lightening the mood. Heero's talkativeness had been a running joke between them. Other kids often said Duo was stealing all his words or idiotic stuff like that.

He sneaked a peek to the white-ish stuff.

_ Looks milky...

_ I didn't bring dairy in my bags if that's what you're implying." His tone was dry but his eyes crinkled playfully. "I found almond and hazelnut milk in your drawers.

_ Did you look for the expiring date?

Heero snorted.

_ I didn't realize you would have become so bothered with that kind of thing.

Duo blushed and a finger went to scratch lightly at his cheek. He wasn't, not really. But he barely had made any groceries since a few months now, except for the few days when Trowa had been there.

_ I... My cooking sucks." He admitted at last. "Most of what's left... I didn't buy, so I don't know how long it had been around.

As answer, Heero simply filled their bowls with the stuff.

_ Itadakimasu.

_ I'm digging." Duo answered as he plunged his spoon into what turned out to be some kind of porridge made with semolina instead of oat, honey and raisins. Hilde used to make it cold as cake.

It was good. Eating with company was even better.

Trowa Barton AC195

He shut down the screen. So this was what the last pilot looked like.

He was almost glad to be further from that particular brand of bad new than Heero. He wouldn't like to have to kill one of the few people his lover seemed to care about.
Better let him chose how to handle Maxwell's capture. He knew, killing Maxwell was the safest option, and he knew Heero had come to the same conclusion. But Heero's heart weighted a lot more on his decision making than his own did, or more than Heero liked to admit. So maybe Heero would find some loophole in his own reasoning himself wouldn't have bothered with.

He sure hoped that whatever Heero would do, he'll at least be able to find the professor's whereabouts. Piloting carriers was becoming quite boring.

Surprisingly, he found himself missing the circus and wonder how Catherine and the others were doing, down there, on Earth. At the time he hadn't thought much about it but with distance, from up there, he had to marvel at how readily they accepted him. A man who came from nowhere, with too many secrets. No questions, no reserve.
They welcomed him, and the weird guys he kept bringing to the circus.

Until his bout of self-destructiveness Catherine blamed on Heero. Not that she was totally wrong about that. She hadn't understood. It wasn't Heero's fault he had misinterpreted the smaller pilot.

They were of similar breed bar one fundamental difference : Heero was riding on emotions, too many of them he barely had a grasp on. He... had lost his a long time ago. And he was now just starting to gain them back. It was jarring at times.

Heero had awakened a growling beast, deep inside his guts, and it felt too much at once.

He was in love, and he had no idea what he was he knew, was how dangerous a feeling it was in war time. He had to distance himself from the source of his distracting feelings.

He had been too willing to follow Heero and support him silently, despite his better judgment. Jealousy was making him too reckless too. He needed time to get his composure back.

And peace to be able to fully give himself to the conflicted pilot.

To the guest who asked me what the final pairing would be : that's the whole point of the plot you're asking me. I might only have 10 readers at most I can't spoil the end to everyone. If you really want to knwo before you decide to keep on reading, please give me the occasion to answer privately.

(Actually, it has already been said, but Duo is a bit dense...)

What I can say is : Duo won't get back with Hilde. Hilde won't bang Quatre. Quatre won't get Trowa. Trowa won't fuck Wufei. Wufei won't hit on Relena. Relena won't explore new territories with Sally. Sally won't get distracted by Duo's long hair.

Ah... and Heero won't make out with the Doll. Obviously.

Also I'll keep the Duo [now] / Trowa [then] format till the end. No incursion in Heero's screwed up mind. The very last chapter would be presented by Wufei.