A transmission arrived on the tenth day after stasis, addressed directly to Duo and bearing the seal of the United Earth Sphere Military. Sally had brought a tablet on which he could view the message, but Duo could gather no courage to open it, not even with Heero or Quatre at his side. Worse, perhaps, was that the transmission weighed heavily on him. Duo knew the possible repercussions, he knew that what he had done would be met with severe consequences, and though the ESUN had long since outlawed capital punishment, he might be left with a fate far worse than death. After all, what could be worse than living life shying away from human interaction, hating himself for what he'd done and receiving no pardon from those around him? Even if Heero, Quatre, Sally, or anyone else said that things would be all right, there was no telling what they actually thought of him, and given his admittedly fragile nature of late, Duo knew as fact that they wouldn't tell him outright.
A second transmission arrived on the thirteenth day, which bore a mark of urgent notice, yet still Duo did not open it. The pressure increased until he couldn't bear being in the same room as the damning tablet. He sought Heero.
"I'm going to tell you the same thing I told you two days ago," Heero said impatiently when Duo presented him with the problem. Whenever Heero spoke to Duo as of late, his tone sounded like he was addressing a four-year-old. He placed emphasis on every word. "Open. It."
"I don't want to," Duo said sheepishly, and then added in an even quieter voice, "I'm afraid of what it says."
"Oh for God's sake!" Heero wheeled on Duo, and Duo could tell that Heero was holding back rage. In the midst of putting on a tie, his fingers were trembling and he could scarcely finish the knot. "At risk of sounding insensitive: You already blew up the damned colony, what worse news could you possibly expect? No doubt that letter is a parrot of what Relena received on the exact same day, and I can tell you verbatim what it said because she's dictated it to me at least a dozen times over the voice com." Heero wrenched the tie closer to his neck and turned around, grabbed a charcoal jacket from his bunk. "Preliminary meeting will be held July 22 at 1300 hours at the Saint Victoria base."
Duo regarded the tablet in his hand. "Will you read it for me?"
It took Heero a moment to respond. He took two very deep breaths, passed his hand through his hair, and approached Duo with measured steps. He snatched the tablet and powered it on. "What's your authentication code?"
"Same as yours."
Heero punched in the numbers and drew up the correspondence, then motioned for Duo to sit. It struck Duo as odd how casual Heero seemed while reading the letters, but he listened attentively. "Most recent letter reads as follows: The following officer is requested to be present at McCarthy Air Force Base, J.A.P. branch on August 7, AC205. Master Sergeant Duo Maxwell." He shrugged and added, "That's two weeks from Friday. Seems reasonable enough. Not so bad, was it?"
Duo felt his body relax slightly. He knew since his initial talk with Quatre that he'd be required to appear before a court, so this came as no surprise. And even though the thought of appearing in public terrified him, the thought of losing everything he'd worked for and starting over at rock bottom, Duo knew it had to be done at some point.
"The first letter," Heero continued, "Reads as follows: Attention Master Sergeant Duo Maxwell, second division air and space forces UESM, stationed Peacemillion. Please consider this a formal summons to appear at court martial on August 7, AC205," he paused and scratched his nose. "Guess you don't have to be there for the prelim."
"Is it the same as the second? A duplicate?" Duo asked hopefully during the stall, but Heero shook his head slowly.
"No, this is longer. The letter continues: It has come to our attention that in events leading up to the incident for which you are being investigated, you allegedly assumed control of an unidentified mobile suit with unregistered operating systems which were recovered at the scene. Please prepare yourself in any way necessary to demonstrate for the courts…" Heero's words slowed as he neared the end of the letter, and he trailed off into silence before swearing strongly beneath his breath. "There's no way…"
Duo felt familiar fire igniting in his stomach again. "What?" he asked, though it he was honest with himself he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer. "What does it say?"
"Okay, you've got to understand something first," Heero let the tablet fall limp to his side and practically collapsed onto his bunk. "We recovered that mobile suit, the one we engineered together and you test piloted the day you went MIA. It's been in the hangar ever since. I've been trying for the last—I don't even know how long at this point—to get the software those lunatics uploaded into its system decrypted and working again, so that we…Howard and myself and Milliardo and, you know, people who will actually understand what the hell it is…So that we can figure out how it worked, what effects it had on you. That was our goal, you get it? We wanted to reproduce the effects that this system had on your brain to make you go so insane, but we wanted to be the test subjects, not you. I had actually contacted Trowa to pilot the program initially because he's got the emotional range of a stump, which we figured would emulate your situation pretty accurately and without the need for chemical alterations." Heero waved the tablet at him irately. "But these idiots at the ESUN want you to get back in it. They want us to reproduce the conditions of the system on you so that they can measure the effects of the system on…" he referenced the correspondence again. "Really? They call you patient zero."
Duo blinked several times, jarred by Heero's sudden anger more than he was the bad news. "I don't understand," he said flatly.
"The short of it, Maxwell? I've got to get a solution pronto. This system has to be up and running in the next week or so now, so that'll give us a full two weeks to debug and test. I've got to talk to Quatre and Sally so they can get you prepared so these sadists can put you back in the cockpit," he gestured toward the tablet. "This is absolutely asinine."
Duo slumped in the chair, curled his legs to his chest and rested his forehead against his knees. Try as he might over the last days, he could not recall in earnest what that cockpit had been like, could not recall how it felt to be under the effects of that system.
"You're going to be okay, though," he heard Heero continue more calmly now as he shuffled around the room. "You've got two personal friends with experience in medicine who will take care of you during the process. Quatre and Sally will be happy to help."
"And you?" Duo croaked.
"Well, for now I've got to go planet side to attend this preliminary meeting with Relena on Wednesday. I'll be gone at least tonight and tomorrow. Hell, I won't arrive on Earth 'til tomorrow morning even if I get out of here right now… Might be back Wednesday night but it'll be ridiculously late. She's got some weird elbow-rubbing, high society party to attend after the prelim that she'll no doubt drag me to."
"Hence the tie," Duo added.
"Hence the tie," Heero agreed. "I had planned to take my work with me at any rate, so I'll keep you up-to-date if I've got to be gone longer than I thought. Now, I hate to be that guy but I've got to run," he tossed the tablet onto his bunk and made for the door, grabbing a heavily loaded shoulder bag as he went. "You're welcome to stay in here if it helps, at least while I'm gone. It's a hell of a lot less stuffy than that medical bay, and there are no windows to trigger you. Just don't mess with the computer."
"Never," Duo said, his voice muffled by his knees.
"I guess I'll see you in a couple days. Don't do anything stupid while I'm away, Maxwell."
Duo shook his head. "The stupid is already done."
ф
Heero found it difficult to stay awake. The room was stuffy, the chair was too soft, and he was not well rested to begin with. The flight to Earth had been hectic, with reporters waving their notes and recorders at him, asking questions for which Heero couldn't even fathom an answer. He didn't want to think—and hadn't bothered to ask—how Relena felt in her situation. No doubt she had been dealing with the press for far longer than he had been.
She sat beside him now, her hand resting tenderly on his thigh, with a rapt-yet-bored expression on her face. Every once in a while, she'd drum her fingers, particularly when the officer in charge said something stupid, which at least served to keep Heero awake, if not attentive.
But Heero's mind was occupied with things besides the proceedings at hand. He'd not seen his wife in twelve days, even over videoconference, and there were many things Heero felt the need to discuss, particularly now he had read the correspondence Duo had received. Even their initial greeting had been muted and extremely public. Too many journalists were crowded around, screaming at the both of them to make a statement on Maxwell's court martial, on information they knew, things they were hiding. It was all they could do to duck into their shared vehicle to make way to the Saint Victoria military base where they now sat in collective boredom while a fat old officer well out of active duty had been droning on about things they already knew for nearly four hours.
"Mr. Yuy, how is the decryption coming along, then?" the officer asked.
It wasn't until Relena tapped his thigh that Heero jolted back to the task at hand. "Decryption is taking longer than expected," he said officially. "Their code was built on a foundation of my own, which I submitted to you about eight months ago as a part of the requirements for the X42P9-58 project. I wrote a standard operating system."
"So, to clarify: They took what you produced and built on top of it?"
"Affirmative."
"When do you expect the decryption to be finished?"
Heero shrugged casually. At this rate he wasn't certain he would be able to get at the language of the altered code. "Seems a stupid question, Corporal, when you've already scheduled the jury."
Heero heard Relena say his name under her breath in warning, as though scolding a child, and he felt her body tense beside him, but Heero paid her no real mind. These men were no friends, and as far as he was concerned deserved the same respect as they had always paid him.
"We'll continue as scheduled, then," said the Corporal hotly, and he checked his watch. "Preliminary information is gathered, in this case, and we will reconvene on August 7 for demonstration of the cockpit operating system." He looked at Relena and nodded his head toward her. "Madam Secretary, thank you for your patience. We will provide you armed escort to the airfield so that you can return to space for your leave peacefully."
"That won't be necessary," Relena replied as she stood, and Heero rose beside her. "My husband and I have other matters to attend this evening."
With that, the Corporal gave a salute and a stiff, "Ma'am. Sir," to Relena and Heero in turn, and four uniformed guards escorted the couple out of the quiet, stuffy courtroom into a large concrete yard bursting with journalists. With little regard the strangers shoved microphones and cameras into their faces while shouting questions and commentary. One clipped Relena on the shoulder forcefully enough to knock her off balance. Heero caught her around the shoulder and gripped her tightly as he walked, remembering always how this was the part of his life he truly despised. Give him a dark room aboard the Peacemillion with a connected computer and he'd be happy forever. This? Less so.
Relena was first into the back seat of the military-provided armored sedan that ferried them around the city, and Heero slumped heavily into the seat next to her, slamming the door behind him. He lay askew for a long while, utterly exhausted, as the driver pulled away and the media pounded against the windows. Thoughtless, he tugged at his tie, unfastened the button on his collar, rubbed at his neck, and swore.
"You didn't need to be so crass with the Corporal," Relena said quietly. "He's just doing his job."
"Yeah, and he's keeping me from doing my job," Heero replied curtly. "Not to mention that's the same persistent busybody that keeps trying to recruit me."
It was at this point that the driver interjected to ask a destination, and Relena replied, "Renalda ballrooms, downtown. There's a party to begin in..."
"It's five o'clock," Heero said automatically.
"Less than an hour, then, we'll probably be late," Relena said, completing her thought. Then she looked to Heero joyfully and added, "I invited my brother and Noin to the party, I hope you don't mind."
Heero shrugged. Any other day he might have taken issue, but today he was too tired to care. Generally, at these functions all Heero did was sit at a table in the back, eat his free dinner, and enjoy more than his share of free drinks. As far as Heero was concerned, all would be well as long as Milliardo stayed out of the way. Besides, he thought, there were items the group of them needed to discuss.
Having worked so successfully with Milliardo prior to colony detonation, Heero wondered often if having him aboard the Peacemillion would help him with the decryption. But Milliardo had been busy tending to an increasingly ill and increasingly immobile Noin, who had seen more complications in recent weeks than ever, resultant from the stress of her capture and subsequent release.
"Are you all right?" Relena asked, her voice tender now, and she touched a hand to Heero's shoulder.
"Ah, yeah," Heero replied. "Tired." He looked toward her and noted the odd expression on her face. It was a look he didn't see often, but which told him that there was something on her mind she didn't know how to discuss. "Out with it," he prompted.
"How did you know that the jury has been scheduled? Those documents were classified."
Genuinely, Heero laughed, and when he glanced back to his wife she looked scandalized. "You do remember who you married, don't you?"
"So you hacked into the military database?"
"No," Heero said, and Relena visibly relaxed. "I read Duo's mail. Relax! He asked me to do it, gave me his authentication code and everything. Did you know about it?"
"I was aware that it had been scheduled," Relena replied. "The letter I received only specified a date. I'm sorry I didn't let you know but I've been caught in meetings since I came down from space."
"Don't apologize," Heero's response came automatically, but then he realized what Relena had said. This news struck him as odd. "But you just said," he started slowly, "that your letter specified only a date. It didn't tell you what would be happening?"
She shook her head. "It just said to convene for trial on August 7 at—ah—McCormack?"
"McCarthy base," Heero corrected. "That complicates things, I suppose." He paused for a thought, tapping absently against the armrest of the door, and when he glanced at Relena she had an expectant look about her. "I'll explain everything to you once we've got your brother and Noin around. You know as well as anyone that I don't like explaining things twice, and this is important for them as much as it is for us. Which is to say I'm going to need Zech's help." And then in afterthought, he added, "Again."
"You feel like you're relying on him too much?"
"I feel like I might have to."
"Well, don't worry about that. Noin told me he's been restless since they arrived back on Earth. He's not a man to sit around idly, you know. I'm sure he'll be happy to help with whatever you need."
"Hope so."
The rest of the car ride passed in comfortable silence. Heero was content to let Relena check and respond to her messages while he stared wistfully out the window and felt only slightly guilty about his sour mood. The incident with Duo had certainly put a strain on everyone, but Heero felt more distant from Relena than ever now, having only spoken with her through antiquated telephone lines and occasional voicemails. It was not out of the ordinary for them to spend many consecutive days apart from one another—such was a requirement of Relena's position—but one or the other always scheduled at least one day each week to meet, on Earth or in space, and those days passed by too fast. Heero wondered if it was his fault, this time, that things seemed so frigid.
By a quarter to six the two had entered the lobby of the Renalda hotel, a large and decorous building whose antiquated architecture set it well apart from the modern skyscrapers that surrounded it. Noin and Milliardo stood waiting to the side of a gigantic square rug, red with blue and gold accents, which made them look more regal than their awkward positions would indicate. Milliardo held Noin by the waist, and she had her arm delicately wrapped around his, and by her posture and his stiffness, Heero knew at once that she was having difficulty on her feet.
The lot of them said hello and made their way inside to the dinner, where they ate and made small talk over a variety of food and drink. Relena and Heero recounted the meeting of that afternoon, and Milliardo and Noin explained in detail all of the trouble they were having now they had returned from Mars. And then, not long after plates were cleared and words of general welcome made, Relena excused herself to go off and be sociable, explaining to Noin and Milliardo that such activity was par for the course whenever she went to these sorts of functions.
Heero remained at the table with them.
"So this is what you do," Noin said casually. She had positioned herself comfortably, her chair at an angle to allow her to recline against her husband. "It seems," she looked around as if the walls would tell her the word she was searching for, "interesting."
"Boring, more like," Milliardo quipped.
Heero shrugged. Even if he did agree with what Zechs had said, it didn't seem to need reemphasizing. "It is what it is," was all he could settle for. "On the bright side, free dinner, free drinks, and all the awkward politics a man could dream of." He looked at Milliardo and asked, "Interested?" and Milliardo shrugged noncommittally.
Heero raised his hand in the air and flagged down one of the wait staff presently bustling about. If ever it had seemed appropriate to utilize his status as First Gentleman it was now, when at least one other person might benefit from the perks. An attendant rushed to the table, a pock-marked young woman who, aside from an obvious skin condition, seemed remarkably well put together. She bowed respectfully and surveyed the table.
"What can I get for you, sirs, madam?" the waitress poised a pen over her notepad.
"For us," Heero gestured to Milliardo and himself, "the strongest thing you've got in the smallest glass you've got. For her, dessert. Whatever you'd eat yourself, a double portion."
"Heero," Noin said as if in protest, but she did not move to cancel the order.
"And under whose name should I open the tab?"
"Mr. Heero Yuy," Heero responded officially, and he shot a sidelong glance to Noin and Milliardo as he did. Milliardo, reclined slightly now himself, had an eyebrow raised skeptically, and Noin seemed utterly amused.
Slowly then all at once, the attendant grew flustered. It was not the first time Heero had elicited such a reaction from someone in a public place, and he found it at least slightly funny how the realization always seemed to dawn on people. He watched the attendant's face screw up in recognition of the name, and then alarm when she took a second glance at him, and then she threw herself into another respectful bow and began to stammer.
"Mr. First Gentleman, sir, I apologize! I ought to have known your face!"
"You're fine," Heero replied, deadpan.
"Of course there will be no charge for you or your guests this evening," said the waitress, and she scribbled something hastily on her notes. "Nor for the Secretary General, if she would like some refreshment."
"Nothing for now, I'm sure she'll flag someone down if she wants. It'll just be the three of us."
"Y-yes! Of course, sir. I'll be back momentarily."
It took every ounce of restraint for Heero to hold back a laugh as the attendant rushed away. For all the politics, meetings, and minutia of life as Relena's husband, he certainly did love this kind of treatment.
Noin did not hold back her laughter, and when Heero looked to her one hand was muffling her mouth while the other rubbed the ever-growing bump around her stomach. "Sally didn't warn me about that."
"About what," Heero replied casually.
"Getting flirty with the attendants? You've got this smug look on your face right now. You love this!"
Heero shrugged, and he felt a smirk tugging at his mouth. "Well, I've got perks besides accelerated docking and shuttle clearance."
Not ten minutes later, the pock-marked waitress arrived with a heaping platter of all manner of baked goods, more than enough for five hungry people, and two neatly poured lowball glasses of some amber liquor neither Heero nor Milliardo recognized by sight or smell.
"Please let me know if everything is to your liking, sir," said the attendant, and when Heero nodded she bustled away.
"This is ridiculous," said Noin, eyeing her plate. "I couldn't eat this much food if I'd starved myself for a week."
"Save it for later, then. Or I'll take it back to the Peacemillion with me," Heero said. "At any rate, we've got to talk business."
With every intent of discussing the letter Duo had received, Heero leaned forward on the table, elbows resting on its top, and took a deep breath to begin his lengthy explanation.
"Ah, Mr. First Gentleman!"
"Shit," was all Heero could say, and his head dropped. He knew this would happen before he ever entered the building—it always did—yet still he had held out hope that perhaps, if he was engrossed in conversation elsewhere... But the familiar voice floated over from halfway across the room and, with a quick glance to Milliardo and Noin, Heero knocked back his drink in one. "I'm so sorry."
All at once a very fat man in pristine military regalia pulled out the chair adjacent to Heero's and invited himself to sit. He flagged over another waitress and said to her, "Another round for the First Gentleman and his guests, please, and a glass of whatever they're having for myself." And when she had gone, he folded his sausage-like fingers and smiled a bit too sweetly. "It's a pleasure to see you again, sir, and who are your tablemates this evening?"
Heero cleared his throat awkwardly. Whatever had been in that glass stung as it went down, but was presently providing an intense warming sensation in his stomach. Or was it frustration doing that? "This is Milliardo Peacecraft and his wife, Lucrezia Noin-Peacecraft. Milliardo is Secretary General Peacecraft's brother." Heero despised speaking in such a formal manner, but there was nothing to be done for it. He nearly choked when he saw the enormous grin now smeared across Noin's face. Clearly she was enjoying his discomfort. "Corporal James O'Keefe, ESUN Special Operations Force," he said in introduction.
Noin extended a hand, which O'Keefe took graciously, but Milliardo continued to cup his drink. "It's a pleasure," she said gracefully, in a tone far brighter than any Heero had heard her use prior. Heero couldn't help but wonder if she would make a more sociable date for Relena on these occasions.
"At any rate, sir, I'd like to discuss my proposition with you again," O'Keefe said, and at this point the waitress had returned with another three glasses, which she placed before the three men. Without so much as a thank you, the Corporal continued. "I sent out another letter to you about four weeks ago requesting you reconsider."
"I may not have received it," Heero feigned. "It's been busy for us and…"
"I sent it three times, sir. I don't think you understand how meaningful it would be for us to have you on board our team."
"I think the fact that you sent me a letter in triplicate says plenty," Heero said dryly. He had honestly lost count of the number of times this man had attempted to recruit him, and each time Heero had said "no," another offer had come in, this time sweeter than the last. And this was not the worst of it. No fewer than three branches of the military had courted him like this, and each branch seemed more persistent than the last.
"Ah, yes," O'Keefe said condescendingly. "My apologies if you feel I've flooded your inbox. It must take a great effort to keep up with your duties."
Heero heard Noin stifle a laugh, which she expertly turned into a cough, which she expertly stifled by taking an enormous bite of one of the finger cakes from the platter. Milliardo took a generous drink. So did Heero.
"And where is the Secretary General this evening?" O'Keefe asked.
"I couldn't tell you even if I wanted to," Heero said curtly, "and I really don't want to. Corporal, I've been as courteous to you as I know how to be, but I'm going to have to respectfully ask you to go. I've got some fairly serious, and fairly personal, matters to discuss with my family here."
"But Mr. Yuy, if you'd only—"
"You're dismissed, Corporal." Heero meant for his voice to offer no chance at rebuttal, and he seemed to have taken the correct tone. The Corporal snatched his glass from the table and stood. "Thank you for the drinks. I'll be sure to respond to your correspondence next time it's sent."
In a huff, the Corporal left.
"Are you always that pleasant with men in uniform?" Noin asked.
Heero shook his head. "Just him. But keep in mind: That man has been harassing me for years, and he's not very good at making negotiations. He keeps trying to throw more money at me in terms of a salary, but when he's got the choice he buys me the cheapest food and drink on the menu. I don't want to work for a guy who treats people like that."
"I can't say I blame you," said Noin.
"What's worse, he's the guy presiding over Duo's case."
Milliardo scoffed, "And you spoke to him like that?"
"I doubt my interaction with him will have any effect on the case," Heero reasoned truthfully. "Every talk I've had with him has gone exactly that way. At any rate, back to business. I need to talk with you two about a problem I'm having, and about a problem I've got with this court martial."
At this, Noin sat straight and looked interested. Milliardo took a sip from his glass and seemed, if Heero was to judge, extremely disinterested.
"It's been a while since you were around," Heero said, mostly to Noin, "and you've got to know that it's not getting better. We've got Quatre docked off to the side with all his stuff, but the support we need simply isn't there. Duo's gone completely off the deep end, Sally has her hands full taking care of him, and Howard couldn't fit another minute into his schedule what with existing projects and all the drama."
"And how have you been holding up?"
It seemed almost ironic that Noin asked the question at the same time Heero stopped to finish his second drink. He thought nothing of it.
"I've been working," Heero said. It seemed Noin was dissatisfied with this response, as she shot a glance to Milliardo that was full of meaning. But Heero continued, unfazed and without realizing that Noin hadn't been asking about work. "You see, I read Duo's summons to him and it said that they want him to get back into the cockpit. They want him to demonstrate the use and capabilities of the system that led him to destroying that colony."
"That's horrible!" Noin cried.
"Seems cruel," Milliardo agreed.
Heero nodded, glad to see that the two of them were on his side in the matter. "I had hoped one of us could do it. Hell, I'd get into the machine if they'd let me…" He waved his hand absently, as if to push the thought away. He couldn't be certain if it was the nerves or the sudden influx of alcohol that was making his mind unclear. "At any rate, the hearing begins in two weeks and I'm supposed to have a working model of this system for them to run him through. But I can't crack it to export it out."
At this, Milliardo sat straight and rested his chin on his hand, suddenly interested. But Heero ignored the shift in posture and continued.
"I don't know what solution I'm going to be able to work up in such a small amount of time. Now, we've got the mobile suit in Peacemillion's hangar but it's battered as hell and almost certainly inoperational. I don't know if we could remove the cockpit as one unit and put it in a new chassis with external power, that'd be one solution, but the monitor overlay inside won't allow us to see what's happening."
"So you're saying that you've got to have this cockpit available for testing in a real-world situation?" Noin clarified.
"Not necessarily, it doesn't have to be hooked into a suit. They just want to put Duo inside of it and run it through a simulation, as my understanding goes."
"It's a stress test," Milliardo said suddenly. "They need to measure Maxwell's reaction to the cockpit system."
Heero nodded.
"The idea of building a separate chassis for the cockpit isn't bad," Noin said. "How many man hours would that take?"
Frustrated, Heero shrugged. There was no doubt in his mind that he could build such a rig, but there was no way it would be finished, polished, and tested by the required date. The military council had put him in a bind here, and he could not see a way out.
"I'll help you. That'll half the labor," Milliardo said, and when he looked to Noin she nodded her accord.
"And what about the others? Quatre will help; he's already aboard the ship if you explained right. What about Trowa? Wufei?"
"If Quatre talked to them I'm sure they'd show up," Heero said. "But I don't have a blueprint; I don't have a plan of action at all here."
Milliardo waved his hand dismissively now. "Blueprints are no problem. You don't even need a plan that complicated. Function over form here, Heero. You remove the cockpit from the mobile suit and rewire it to a separate chassis and the parts are effectively all already in place. All you have to do is figure out what the output needs to be, where the visuals need to go, and the rest is easy, especially if you were smart and kept the memory and data stored in the suit's black box. It's just a matter of fixing components that were ruined in the self-detonation sequence."
"And I coded the self-detonation sequence, so I know all the components that were destroyed." Heero felt heartened and the warm feeling in his stomach returned. "This is good. I'll return to Peacemillion tonight and get Quatre on the voice com. In the meantime, I can start removing the cockpit and drafting up a chassis."
"Slow down, fly boy," Noin warned, and she looked at her own watch now. "It's eight fifteen. Even if you left right now you wouldn't dock until well after midnight. Yes, go back home if you feel you need to, but you need to relax. Spend some time with your wife, maybe?"
"Yeah," Heero agreed, and he rubbed at his forehead with his fingers. His mind was moving a thousand miles a minute. "She had planned to come back with me for a couple days, at least until she received orders to be somewhere else. I can fill her in on the details and—"
"That wasn't what I meant," Noin insisted.
Heero stopped mid thought and looked up to catch Noin with a lopsided smirk and Milliardo, the slightest hint of pink in his face, drinking deeply from his cup. "Oh."
It was Noin who ordered the next round.
