Fortnight

Ch 04 - Inure

by APs

Betas – gothic-pixel and justanotheranimefreak (Who are both awesome!)

A/N – Read and enjoy! Reviews will be loved, too!

I have known it for a long time but I have only just experienced it. Now I know it not only with my intellect, but with my eyes, with my heart, with my stomach.

- Hermann Hesse

Wufei was losing ground fast. Three in the morning, earlier than normal, earlier than they were technically allowed to be there, and Sally was putting him through his paces. His focus was shot, body fighting instead of his mind. He was coasting on muscle memory, which his student had clearly not missed. With a growl, the woman backed off and waited until her master had relaxed his stance to do the same.

Sally eyed him as she settled sore shoulders, "Alright, what's bothering you?"

Wufei lifted an eyebrow at her, barely even sweating.

"Please, kid, I know I'm not good enough to back you into a corner just yet. Add to that the unholy hour and the fact that Duo's gone on a cold mission and I'd have to speculate that there's something you need to get off your chest," the woman sat on the mat to stretch, letting the man come to her if he pleased.

Wufei gauged her carefully. Sally had never been stupid and she knew him intimately, but he still couldn't help the surge of affectionate relief he felt at her intuitive grasp of his condition. He folded his legs neatly beneath him before he spoke, "I have feelings for Maxwell."

"What?" The woman's expression was pure surprise, no room for anything else.

"I am romantically interested in Maxwell," Wufei sighed through grit teeth. Did she think this was easy for him? He'd inured to the preliminary conclusion less than a week after their awkward nocturnal exchange and, instantly, the idiocy of the entire situation had come crashing down on him. When Duo had left three days ago for a cold, or low threat level, mission, basically a mail run, Wufei had realized the true depths of what he'd unearthed. The first night, he'd woken up screaming and wandered about his house practically aching for another voice. The next day had been terrible, he missed everything from casual diner conversation to the harsh violet eyes. It had been last night, when he hadn't slept at all, that he had decided he needed to talk to someone.

"When did that happen?" Her shock had subsided, letting curiosity shine through.

"I have known it for a long time but I have only just experienced it. Now I know it not only with my intellect, but with my eyes, with my heart, with my stomach."

Sally's husky laughter caught him unprepared, "I always knew love would sneak up on you, though Duo wasn't exactly my first guess."

"You had a first guess?" the man eyed her sourly.

"Of course," Sally smirked, "There were plans to set you up with a tough little girl from Tactical, at some point. Though, I always figured you'd be more compatible with Heero, honestly."

The Chinese man balked at the casually presented information, "Yuy?"

Sally realized she'd gone too far, too fast, and consciously reigned herself in, "Look, for all your scholarship and maturity, you've never really been one to listen very closely to your heart. It wasn't really that I thought you preferred men so much as you preferred specific men."

Wufei just glared at her, unable to quell the heat rising in his cheeks.

Sally sighed, "You know how I say I can tell you don't love me by your eyes?"

He nodded slowly.

"It's because you never look at me with even half the warmth you give the other pilots," she smiled wanly, "They're the only ones I've ever seen your eyes soften for."

He wanted to propose again. Women like Sally didn't actually exist, at least not outside ancient histories and plays. He could see the legacy of Amazons and Empresses in her, perhaps even a faint echo of the woman Nataku may have been. She would make a fine mother to strong children. It still wasn't love. He took a deep breathe, "What made you think it would be Yuy?"

"Well," she paused, checking that he was willingly listening, "Heero has always seemed to be on more equal ground with you, but trust you to fall for the one that knows less about love than you do."

"Maxwell is one of the most caring people I know," Wufei corrected sharply.

"Oh, he's caring," Sally hesitated, "The man definitely cares how others react to him, wants everyone to laugh and be happy, not think too much, but he doesn't let anyone get close, almost like he's afraid. I'd bet the poor guy's been wounded."

Wufei scowled, "We've all been wounded."

"A wound of the heart can be much more serious than most things physical," Sally murmured, "and I get the impression Duo's heart may be encased in scar tissue."

The image of Duo's scarred body flashed through Wufei's mind, but he didn't flinch, "We all have wounds, Po."

Sally shook her head and sighed, "Alright, so what's specifically bothering you?"

The man gauged her, trust a doctor to cut to the heart of the problem. He licked his lips, "As you know, Yuy and Maxwell have recently had… difficulties."

"That's putting it mildly," Sally agreed.

Wufei ignored the aside, "Maxwell came to me, as a friend, for help."

"And now you feel that you're, perhaps, a little biased and no longer the ideal mediator for this specific situation," the woman hypothesized.

The man blinked. Were all women so… intuitive, or was Sally Po just psychic? He was troubled by the thought of hurting the situation more than helping it, whether intentional or otherwise. His dealings with his clansmen were tied with his honor and putting himself before any of them was shameful.

Sally tilted her head at him, apparently having expected more of a reply, "If it helps any, it looks like whatever was happening between Duo and Heero is over."

"That is between them," Wufei glowered. He could not consider something 'over' until some form of equilibrium was restored and, from where he stood, everything was still fairly volatile. Only those involved knew what had actually happened and they didn't seem to feel the need to share.

"I'd say you have some part in this now, wouldn't you?"

"I would not."

Sally scrutinized him, "Your feelings count for something, too, Wufei."

Not when they usurped his sense of duty. Sally had never understood that part of him and he wasn't entirely sure she could even if she had wanted. It was always the many over the individual. If one must sacrifice for harmony, then one did so willingly. Wufei simply gazed back, his shoulders falling slightly, "This may have been a mistake."

The woman was trying valiantly not to be offended, "It does seem more like something you'd usually discuss with one of the others. Why not call Quatre?"

"Winner is already shouldering more of this burden than is right," Wufei reasoned nicely, so he thought. Trowa was still away and dumping this entire fiasco on the blonde seemed downright unjust. It had very little to do with their current interpersonal issues, so he told himself.

Sally frowned, "Well, who do you usually talk to?"

"Barton."

"Oh."

The man nodded. Trowa had been his confidante during and since the war. He had been the closest Wufei had found to a true kindred spirit among the other pilots. Wufei was a warrior, of a line of warriors. Chang Wufei had fought his war because he was capable and had decided it needed to be done. Heero, though admirable for his strength and drive, was a soldier and fought because he was told. Duo fought out of necessity, which Wufei accepted. Quatre had fought for peace and Wufei had always had his misgivings about that line of logic. The man with no name, whom they had learned to call Trowa, was a mercenary. Though he could take orders, he was equally capable of deciding his own actions with a clarity the others had often lacked and his stoic determination in the face of despair was enough to make the proudest warrior heed that quiet voice when it deigned to offer something.

Sally tore him from his thoughts, "Why don't you talk to Heero?"

The man arched an eyebrow. That was, in fact, the last available choice.

"You need someone to explain this to and he needs to understand what's happening. There's no reason you couldn't help each other," Sally demonstrated this cooperation by weaving her fingers together.

Wufei stared at her, blasé. He could think of several reasons why they may not be able to help each other, most of which revolved around weapons and fists. Of course, the last time he'd seen his Japanese friend the man had seemed more lost than angry. Heero did deserve his honesty, after all, and perhaps it had been long enough that a discussion might not devolve into blows. The point was rapidly approaching where he would more than welcome a fight, anyway.

Apparently, he took too long in his revelry for Sally's tastes, "Or you could always talk to Une, I guess."

Wufei choked and the woman broke into peals of deep laughter. Composing himself, the man let a dark little smile cross his features, appreciating Sally's low, throaty laugh, one of the things he found truly attractive about her. Her mirth subsided slowly to a Mona Lisa smirk and a saucily arched brow.

"I'll talk to Yuy," Wufei assured her.

"Good," a wolfish grin slipped onto the woman's lips, "It's such a waste letting someone that gorgeous mope about."

Sally laughed, again, as her friend grimaced. Wufei sighed in resignation as he got to his feet, "I believe we're finished for the day."

They bowed, but before Wufei could turn to head for the men's locker room, Sally had caught him in a hug, bodies crushed together. He froze, familiar hands gripping his back tight, the fragrance of soft hair, warm breathe against his ear.

"Thank you… for coming to me," she softly whispered, low and throaty.

A slightly whimsical smirk overtook him and he returned the embrace gently, "Marry me."

She laughed and kissed him firmly on the cheek before slipping from him, "Don't be an idiot, Chang Wufei. We all deserve better."

And he watched as she jogged away, trailing laughter.

Chang Wufei was waiting at a table in a decent, but inexpensive restaurant for one, Heero Yuy, with whom he had managed to make plans earlier that day. That had been an exercise in efficiency, a conversation in nods, grunts, and a single note. Wufei had decided on dinner over lunch, for the lack of time constraint, stress, and weapon availability. He'd chosen the restaurant for its open floor plan, many exits, neglected back alley, and general public neutrality while not being overly busy. The field of battle is never an arbitrary thing.

"Wufei?" The soft question made the Chinese man turn, frowning slightly. He knew that voice and it wasn't right. He found Quatre smiling politely with Heero beside him, coldly blank.

"Yuy," Wufei greeted his invited guest first before settling a questioning eye on the blonde, "Winner."

"I hope it's not a bother that I accompanied Heero," Quatre squirmed slightly in his formalities and Wufei felt exasperation flare.

"He's playing conciliator," deep blue eyes indicated Quatre with only the slightest annoyed chill to them.

The blonde ignored the flat insult with practiced ease and moved to claim the seat on the far side of the table, leaving Heero to drag a chair over near Wufei's, "Diner with friends seemed like a good idea."

In the silence that followed Wufei glanced from Quatre's reserved smile to where Heero was glaring halfheartedly at the blonde. Quatre Winner could be downright insufferable when he decided it was his job to fix something. When the waitress materialized, it was little wonder both darker men ordered stiff drinks.

"Just water, thank you," Quatre smiled gently, garnering a small smile in return. The woman vanished like so much smoke, leaving the three to stare at each other. Quatre chuckled, which would have sounded strained by any standard, "I suppose that makes me the designated driver."

The looks he earned from his Asian companions made the blonde clear his throat and straighten his back. Not bad considering a normal man would have probably began to melt. Wufei shoved his frustrated growl back down his throat and focused on Heero. The Japanese man was regarding him with that inscrutable vacuity of genuine ignorance, waiting. Heero Yuy didn't fidget. In some circles it was believed he didn't even blink. The truth was, Heero didn't really know what was expected of him, so he did nothing. He'd grown out of it, since the war, but here he was, back in old ingrained habits. Something had to have shaken his confidence, badly. Wufei could only wonder.

"Well?" The single low growl made Wufei blink. Heero was direct, at least.

"Thank you for coming," Wufei bowed his head slightly, keeping eye contact.

"I said I would."

"It was good to hear from you," Quatre offered. Neither of the others spared him any attention.

The drinks arrived and Quatre thanked the waitress. Heero sipped at his glass like whiskey had lost its bite while Wufei left his ignored on the table. They watched each other, sitting in silence, and Wufei couldn't help remembering the war, specifically the lunar base. They had sat in utter silence for days before Duo had been thrown into an unceremonious heap on their floor. …Duo.

Quatre took a deeper breath, but Wufei decided he should be the one to start this, "I felt I should apologize for what happened at my house."

"That was a month ago," Heero stated, vanilla bland.

"And we have not spoken since."

Deep blue eyes remained indifferent, "There's nothing to say."

They had always been the comfortable silence type of friends, speaking when necessary, but finding it less and less so over the years. A smile, a nod, a handshake, a glance, they had perfected the art of nonverbal vocabulary. Absently Wufei wondered if that was why Sally had believed Heero more his 'type'. They were guys together and, though Wufei would never say it, the fact that Heero had simply erected a wall, stopped their dialogue, hurt. It hurt a lot. He drank somewhat mechanically, hoping the burn would cover his bruised pride.

"Obviously there's something, Heero," Quatre chimed in.

Wufei was calculating how much more difficult the blonde was making this, but Heero simply nodded, taking another drink, "Apparently. Was that all?"

Wufei frowned, "I should not have treated you so rudely."

"No," Heero agreed, lips ticking upward, "But I needed it."

Something seemed to relax in Heero, a thaw if not a full melt just yet. The Japanese man glanced at Quatre, who gave him a warm smile, encouraging. Wufei knew that the others leaned heavily on the blonde, with whom all three had spent significant time during the war. It sometimes felt as though they had all been lost together, while Wufei had been fighting a war by himself. Heero understood, had helped him during the Mariemaia incident. Something tightened in his chest and Wufei cursed Trowa's mission. More liquid fire blazed down his throat as darkness settled on his face.

"There's more," Heero wasn't asking. Concern flashed in deep blue eyes.

"I…" Wufei bowed his head slightly without breaking eye contact, submissive, but hardly cowering, "I have realized that I feel deeply for Maxwell."

Heero's eyes widened and he blinked. Several times. Quatre looked between the two, puzzled, "We all like Duo."

"Some more than others," Heero placed his glass on the table with great care. Quatre frowned, but said nothing.

Wufei licked his lips, "On my honor it was neither intentional nor anticipated in the least."

Deep blue eyes glared at him briefly, "How long?"

"A week."

"He doesn't know," the tone was broken glass, irregular and sharp.

"He may."

Heero clenched his jaw, "But you haven't told him."

"No," Wufei confirmed. He felt himself falling into that placid rigidity, his mind and body reacting to tension in the air, aggression aimed his way.

The Japanese man laughed, "So, you want my blessing to fuck my boyfriend?"

"Heero!" Quatre's protest barely registered, Wufei was so shocked.

"Let's go, Quatre," Heero finished his drink and stood.

Shock burst into outrage as Wufei slammed his glass down, bolting out of his chair, "I ask no such thing, Yuy."

"Then you already have."

Quatre was on his feet now, too, "Heero!"

Wufei sputtered and felt himself turn what must have been an interesting shade of crimson, "I am not- could not- How vile and debase-"

"You wouldn't have stopped it," Heero growled.

Wufei swore fluently, and a touch whimsically, in Chinese before he caught his breath. His friend was right, no doubt his lack of proper response was damning enough.

"Why don't you both sit down," Quatre rasped from across the table, "This is hardly fair."

"Fair?" Heero laughed again, vaguely crazed. Wufei reevaluated his friend quickly. He was carrying himself like he had during the war when he'd been smashed inside and running on nothing but pain and wrath.

Onyx eyes closed with a deep, grounding breath, "I came here to do the honorable thing. To inform you and give you my word that it shall never go further."

Heero stared icicles at him, "You're not going to do anything because of me?"

"I could never wager your friendship."

Deep blue eyes slipped away from him, leaving a notable void, "You're either a liar or a coward."

Wufei felt his face twist, shaking visibly, but he couldn't speak.

A wolfish grin slipped onto Heero's face, but he still wouldn't look at Wufei, "Either you lied about your feelings or you're too scared to do anything about them."

"Heero," Quatre sighed, "stop trying to start a fight."

Deep blue eyes flickered to the blonde like he'd just dropped the apple on Newton, "No, I think I was supposed to." Heero glanced at his smoldering friend, "I believe that was exactly what Chang wanted."

Wufei killed his drink in one shot and took his time replacing the glass as he reigned himself in. Silence once again served as his only response.

"Sorry, Wufei, but I'm not beating through your insecurities this time," Heero's rough voice grated, gravel against skin.

"Don't be a fool, Yuy," Wufei sneered, feeling the familiar double edge of disgust, "It was a beating from you that started this."

Heero froze, his every muscle strained, his voice soft with the promise of violence, "You want to stop."

A part of him wanted to heed the wisdom in that, but it was suddenly as though they were fifteen again, young and invincible, full of idealism and rage. Piss and vinegar, as the saying went. The arrogance lacing his tone was bitter, "Afraid of an honorable fight, Yuy? Or are sucker punches all you're capable of anymore?"

"Wufei!" His name coming from Quatre with such force was an odd experience, surreal almost. He looked down his nose at the blonde briefly, but Heero was the immediate threat.

"Stop," Heero was practically humming with the effort of restraint.

Wufei's brain was screaming on full alert, but the pompous smirk slipped onto his lips so naturally it made his skin crawl, "So you can simply blindside me, too?"

Fist met table, brutally, "You weren't there."

"No one was." Volumes rose.

"Guys! Please-" Vaguely Wufei registered Quatre trail off, go blank, but danger was too imminent in Heero.

"You won't understand!"

Quatre's hand was clutching at his chest, "… Heero…"

"Not if you won't explain yourself!"

The blonde sank back into his seat, "…Wufei…"

"You've already decided!"

Panting softly, Quatre stared at the table, barely whispering, "…Trowa."

"Damage speaks for itself." Wufei shifted, one more push and Heero would break, "You're-"

"Both of you shut the hell up!" The two Asian ex-pilots stopped to stare in shock at little, blonde Quatre. The man was seated, but the look in his eyes was unsettling, all the craze and power of Zero under lucid sobriety. It was terrifying. Jaw clenched, he fixed his comrades each with a look firm enough to admonish inanimate objects, then closed his eyes, leaving them in bemused and astonished silence.

It was Heero who spoke, "Quatre?"

"Trowa," Quatre started, but his voice hitched, "Trowa's in trouble."

Heero glanced to Wufei, who nodded. They had long ago given up trying to quantify or explain Quatre's ability to simply know things. It made Wufei uncomfortable, if he thought about it, but it had more than proved its utility. There were things that needed doing and Heero would see to Quatre, so all that was left for Wufei, at the moment, was a swift retreat before anymore of his world was pulled out from under him.

Allora Gale – You'd think 'Fei would be better at stepping delicately and I'm glad to have enlivened your vocabulary. Thanks again!

Yesterdays-lover – Sorry, but if I finish it off soon, I may be convinced to move up the update schedule. We'll see.

Shinnscape – No worries, I'm definitely continuing and finishing Fortnight. Thanks for speaking up. It makes me feel loved.

In2lalaland – I'm happy Wufei comes across as solid and the problem is more complicated than it looks. That's all I'm saying for now, but thanks for reviewing.

And a general thank you to everyone who has faved and a hello to my watchers!