Seven! *insert old joke about seven eating nine*

Agent Barry Dalton considered himself a steadfast man. He had joined the Alliance's ranks when silver already tinged his dusty red beard, serving for nine long years before turning his heart away from his corrupted officials. Leaving his lovely wife and grown children in the city they had all been raised in, he had wrapped his wedding band in a bandana once worn by his fallen brother, keeping the bandana in his pocket as he joined the rebel forces.

For eighteen even longer months, he battled from the shadows for freedom, food, and the right to be heard. His bones protested more fiercely than his younger comrades when they slept on broken concrete, during the times they were given opportunity to sleep. Thanks to his then fully-grey hair, he earned the nickname 'Wolf-hound' among those youthful soldiers who had nothing to lose—wolf because he fought without mercy, hound because he was a friendly presence to have lazing around the campfire. He also got a bit slobbery when he drank too much.

When the gundams materialized seemingly from the air, he felt in his soul the answer to his prayers had finally arrived. After the war, the gundams victorious, Barry joyfully returned to his family. When the Preventers established headquarters nearby not long after, he knew it was his duty and his privilege to serve under the same roof as those five pilots.

It still made his steel-blue eyes water over when he realized his grandchildren were older than Agents Yuy, Maxwell, Barton, Winner, and Chang.

But despite his steadfast, loyal nature, he was growing impatient to go home. Rose most likely had the day's roast still warm in the microwave as she slept upstairs in their bed, white hair illuminated by the lamp kept on to guide his safe return. The occupant of the cell he was guarding simply refused to talk, no matter how many of the Preventers' best entered the cell on half-hour intervals to cajole, threaten, or terrify the captured man.

Barry had learned there were two types of soldiers: those who fought for their ideals and those who fought for the glory. Those who fought for their ideals were rare. They were also very reluctant to leak information. He reasoned the only reason the man had been kept alive so long was due to his involvement in the recent affair where several agents had been lost, nearly including Agent Barton. But if the man did decide to talk, perhaps they could eliminate the problem they've been having with the weapon-dealing insurgents.

Barry groaned, leaning against the wall to itch an uncomfortable spot on his upper back. He tapped the heel of his rifle against the cold floor lazily, only to snatch it up in aim when he caught the flash of blond hair towards the end of the hall. "Who's there?"

Quatre stepped forward, holding up his hands. "No need to shoot, Agent Dalton. My friends and I just desire a word with your captive."

Barry fingered the keys on his hip, clutching the metal pieces tighter when Agent Yuy and Maxwell joined their friend. "The next questioners aren't due to the cell for another seven minutes."

Quatre flashed him a brilliant grin, lowering his hands with his palms turned upwards. "That's all the time we need."

"With all due respect—"

"Aw, come on, Dalton!" Duo slung an arm around the elder veteran's shoulders, grasping his shoulder with a surprisingly strong grip. "We just want to thank this guy for the job he did on our buddy Tro, alright? Won't cause any trouble for you." The dark gleam in the blue-and-violet eyes left little room for argument, so Barry handed the keys over with a shudder. "Good man! I'll stay out here and keep you company while Quat and Heero slip inside, alright?"

Barry turned his gaze to look straight ahead and not at the young man who still had his shoulder in an iron clasp. His teeth grounded against each other as the heavy door opened and shut behind him. "And this visit, as you call it, is to remain between us, I'm guessing?"

"Always on top of the game, aren't you, buddy?"

"I owe a great deal to you and your friends, Agent Maxwell. You can trust me to keep silent on this matter."

Duo patted his arm, releasing his hold. "Always nice to hear. By the way, do you know where the superglue the secretaries use is kept? I've got to pay a house call tomorrow and I've found my supply sadly lacking…Oh! Finished already?"

Heero and Quatre emerged from the dim room, the former shaking his fist as if flinging off dirt. "Yes. Let's go."

Without seeing the action, Barry felt the weight of the keys on his hip. "Thank-you, Mr. Dalton. Your kindness will be remembered." The three ex-pilots disappeared back down the hall, turning the corner. As Duo rounded the curve, he turned and gave Barry a haunting smile which made the old man, for a brief second, believe he was looking into the face of death itself.

Shaking off the sensation, he only had to wait a minute before the next set of questioners arrived. Running nervous fingers through his thinning beard, he stood aside as the door was opened again. Ringing from inside the concrete box were the shouts of the prisoner: "I'll talk! I'll tell you everything! Please, let me talk!"

Agent Barry Dalton really wanted to go home.

The next morning, several miles away from headquarters, Trowa stretched in the warm sunlight streaming in from Wufei's bedroom window. Or, rather, their bedroom window. Ever since his last mission, Trowa hadn't even laid down on what used to be his bed. Stretching with a content sigh, he turned to his side and snuggled up to the other man sharing his pillow. "Morning, Fei."

Wufei laid down his book, entwining his fingers in the brown hair currently making itself comfortable in his lap. "Good morning, gardenia."

"Reading again, my rubber ducky?"

"Yes. You have an amazing ability to sleep past my designated time to practice my martial arts. How is your sight today?"

"You could have left to exercise. My sight is the same. Just shadows and I can definitely tell where the light source is."

"I would never leave you alone in your condition."

Trowa laughed, arching up to kiss along Wufei's face until he stumbled upon his lips. "Of course you wouldn't—you haven't. You've used up all your paid leave just to do it. But it's been three weeks. You've nursed me back to health just fine. My arm is nearly healed, my ribs aren't sore anymore, and you've kept me so pampered I'm getting fat."

Wufei slid down on the satin sheets so they were level, running his hands down Trowa's clothed chest. "You're not getting fat. You're filling out wonderfully."

"Mmm. Thank-you. But that reminds me that I am getting rather frustrated."

"Frustrated? Am I being overbearing?"

"Never. I meant sexually."

Glad that his love could not see the burn spreading across his face, Wufei placed a warm kiss on Trowa's forehead. "You know I would greatly enjoy becoming more physical with you. Sleeping next to you and bathing you has made sure of that. But we will do nothing strenuous until you are fully well."

Groaning, Trowa rolled to place his feet on the floor, sitting up on the bed, facing away from Wufei. "You're so unfair. You've only had to wait a month. I've waited a year."

Wufei slid his arms around Trowa's waist, leaning into the curve of the taller man's neck. "Waiting for me a year cannot compare to waiting for you a day." He couldn't resist giving in for a fleeting second and tasting the soft skin above Trowa's shirt. "But, you have not seen your reflection lately, so you have forgotten how beautiful you are."

Leaning back into the embrace, Trowa tilted his throat, silently pleading for more contact. "Flattery will get you everywhere."

Nipping his way along the tempting column of flesh presented before him, Wufei whispered teasingly against the curve of Trowa's ear. "You mean I have to use flattery?"

Gasping, Trowa attempted to regain the old mastery of speech. "That more would be fine. Enough. Please."

Wufei decided to add the breathless tone in which Trowa was speaking to his mental list of things he loved about him. Pushing Trowa back down onto the pillow, he continued his study of the blinded ex-pilot with his lips earlier carried on only by his eyes. He didn't have the nerve to tell Trowa that his ever-present novel had gone unread for two weeks. "Are you positive you are not in pain?"

"Positive!"

"And you would not lie to me?"

"No more tricks. I promised."

"Good." Wufei quickly but carefully pulled Trowa's shirt over his head, letting his hands explore the pale expanse, kissing the fading bruises gently. He fingered the edges of Trowa's boxers, folding down the elastic band to tease unexplored territory with his fingertips. With Trowa's moan, they didn't hear the door open.

"Woah! There's something I never wanted to walk in on." Duo turned from the bedroom doorway to yell down the stairs. "They're here! They're just having sex! Ooph!" He caught the thrown pillow as flew towards his head.

"What are you doing here, Maxwell?"

"We're just all checking on the resident patient, of course!"

"I was a lot better before you walked in, Duo."

"That's gratitude for you. Get dressed and meet us downstairs before someone starts getting worried."

When Duo retreated back to the kitchen, Wufei rose off Trowa and the bed, gathering clothes for them to change in. "He should start worrying about his hair."

"Don't be mad. It's not like we can do anything with them in the house. We can continue after they leave."

"You have a doctor's appointment."

"Let's be bad boys and skip."

Wufei had to smile, covering the sweet skin he wanted to taste yet again with a turtleneck. "How naughty of you. Who do you think would flay me first? Sally, Quatre, or Heero?"

Smirking, Trowa stood and reached for his jeans. "Quatre's closer."

Wufei took Trowa's arm as they went down the stairs together. Squinting, the latter could make out the darker outline of his friends sitting around where the table would be. "Hey, guys."

Quatre immediately hugged his healing friend, giving into the need to validate Trowa's presence again, as he had almost every day in the past three weeks. During the war when Trowa was lost in space, he had seen hallucinations of the French man, so he never wanted to rely on vision alone. "It's great to see you with color in your cheeks. Is your sister still handling this well?"

"She's fine. She calls every day. And she sent more soup."

"Unfortunately."

"Fei!" Trowa shook his head in amusement, secretly loving the playful, bantering relationship already developing between his sister and his significant other. "Actually, could I have some? We haven't had breakfast yet."

Wufei jumped up from his stool as if he was given a mission assignment. He dished out a generous helping into a bowl, warming it in the microwave before setting it down in front of Trowa with a spoon. He laid Trowa's hand over the spoon. "It's directly in front of you. But let it cool for a second. It's still hot. You want some ice in it? Or something to drink?"

Trowa shook his head with a smile. "No. I'd rather you eat something too."

"I will wait until you are done."

To cover the contagious snickers coming from the surrounding onlookers, Duo opened the fridge, peering into its abnormally crowded depths. "You two have anything actually good to drink here? What's the point in cranberry juice?"

Wufei struggled back a biting reply, pushing the braided man away from the refrigerator. Reaching into the bottom drawer, he pulled out an armload of canned drinks, dropping them on the counter. "Better?"

"There should be some of those soft drinks you like, Duo. Wufei and I picked them up when he finally let me go out in public."

"Aw, you guys were thinking of me." As Duo reached for a can, a tube fell out of his sleeve and skidded across the counter. "Well darn. You think superglue would stay put."

Wufei snatched up the small tube, flinging it into the trashcan with enough force to make the container rattle. "What in the hell were you planning to do with that?!"

"Look, I'm sorry we irrupted your dismantling of Trowa's clothes, but that's no reason to steal my superglue. It took a long time for me to steal it. You ever deal with a ticked off secretary? Or is Tro here your personal secretary now?"

Coughing and pulling a fuming Wufei back by his side, Trowa decided to rapidly change the subject. "Has there been any progress on dismantling the rebel force?"

Duo sipped at his soda, shrugging nonchalantly. "I've heard they captured one of them from up in the mountains and are holding him at HQ."

Trowa turned his head towards the sound of Duo's voice, identifying the correct shadow. He heard something snap in the hands of his boyfriend beside him, and he hoped it wasn't something previously alive. "Has he proved useful?"

Quatre nodded, picking the broken shards of Trowa's spoon from Wufei's clenched hands before they could pierce his skin. "Yes, actually. He's given away the coordinates of their bases, as well as the names of the ringleaders."

Wufei's voice was low with rage that had nothing to do with Duo's antics, the image of his love's broken body in Heero's muscular arms flashing before his eyes. "What is to happen to him?"

"For his cooperation, he walks, reimbursed for his…troubles."

At Quatre's words, Trowa sighed in distaste, remembering numerous mercenaries carrying the same greed. Shallow fools who would sell out their brothers-in-arms for their own personal gain. Some people would do anything for money.