Disclaimer: I don't own the GW characters – am just borrowing to torment for my amusement

Warnings: Swearing, yaoi, violence, general angst, possible OOCness (ages since I've written fanfiction so may be a little bit rusty)

Pairings: 1x2 , 3x4 a hint of one sided 5+2

A/N: Song for this chapter is Coheed and Cambria's Running Free. There will be some artistic license regarding L2 from here on out.

Chapter Five

Running Free

Travelling by commercial shuttle was easy but had its limitations. I was carrying my duffle bag as I handed over my fake Preventer sanctioned ID documents and smiled at the girl behind the counter. Flirting and being charming was a weapon I was very effective at using. It made you seem less scary. Being an ass and a difficult customer usually made you memorable.

The problem with a commercial shuttle was that I was not an official Preventer officer or part of any police organisation that was allowed to carry a weapon. I couldn't carry a gun or my usual flick knife and it meant sitting near civilians. The old dude sat next to me snored in his sleep and I looked out at the darkness of space. I'd hacked into the shuttle company's database after Wufei gave me my shuttle tickets and selected my seat doing brief background searches on the people on board – the old guy was visiting family in the colonies and seemed the best option. He didn't speak to me as I put the hood up of my black sweatshirt and put in my headphones. I looked like a troublesome teenager and it stopped conversation. Heh, being undercover had taught me a lot of tricks. It also hid my hair and it made me look younger.

I slept a little during the flight and then grabbed my duffle and left the terminal quickly. I learned to travel light over the years. My life was all about throwing stuff away anyway – I was never one person for long enough for it to be kept. I suppose the leather jacket counted but that was it. I didn't keep anything else. I bought clothes new most missions and threw out the last lot. I suppose I was wasteful but I wore most of my black clothing until it became an unattractive grey colour and then it wasn't so pretty. I'd learned to be a ghost and after having so many different identities, I was looking forward to being plain old me after this. Work out what I wanted. Hell, I'd earned enough cash working for the Preventers that life would be more than comfortable for me if I didn't want to work. Shit, this must be like Q felt, loads of dough but what the fuck to do with it?

I felt a little more like myself as this cover didn't involve any kinda disguise. The last few hadn't as it was figured I was mostly forgotten now. It was over three and a half years since the war and with no images or video for people to verify my appearance it would be pretty impossible for some to recognise me as a former Gundam pilot. I also had grown up a little, I was taller and not quite as skinny but I looked pretty much the same. 'Fei always commented on my weight and diet but hell, by now if I could still eat whatever shit I wanted and didn't put on weight, I wasn't going to. A doctor had said it was because of my childhood and then whatever G did to me – I'd grown up scavenging food, guess the lack of nutrition had taken its toll.

My hair was nowhere near as long. That had been the first fight when I'd joined the Preventers. They wanted to cut it, just cut it all off as if anyone had seen me it was the most fucking recognisable thing about me. Despite the fact every image, every little bit of me had disappeared, they still felt that the braid would give me away. I fought for it and damnit, Wufei had fought alongside me. We decided to cut it to about shoulder length. I didn't cut it again after that. For the first year I still braided it even though it was hardly worth it. It now had grown out some but was still not as long as I liked. I knew it was easier shorter for undercover work – it could go under a hat, a bandana or even a wig. But I missed it, you know, I didn't quite feel like me without hair down to my ass.

I'd worn contacts from time to time and prosthetics. Sometimes I wouldn't recognise myself and sometimes it was hard to maintain the identity with all the little things I had to remember – I was on edge every second of an undercover in case something slipped. I'd had so many names… I couldn't remember them all. I'd turn round to someone and think for a second – who the hell am I exactly? And then I'd remember that I'm not me and say the right thing. It was exhausting. And I was sick of it.

This time I was Domino but the whole story was close to my own life. It was easier the closer the identities were to me as I stood less chance of letting something slide or fucking something up. The Domino identity was as near to me as an identity had ever been – orphaned, grew up in street gangs on L2, fought in the war – though for the other team, and then became disillusioned, drifted round the colonies using the explosives knowledge to blow shit up for terrorist cells or gangs for cash. I was being credited with a few terrorist attacks – which was kinda nice. At least in this identity I was good at what I did. I also didn't have a criminal record and no real name. The ID docs I'd been given were Drake Noir. Maybe the Wu-Man had a little sense of humour in there somewhere.

I'd looked over the file over and over again since 'Fei had handed it over in that dinky café in Berlin. I knew I couldn't just join the gang – I had to have something to make them bite. I had to have something they wanted in exchange for a little information and a chance to get close enough to know what they were going to do. The last undercover had been six months and for two of them I'd lived in a shitty one room apartment and engaged in plenty of criminal activities until they noticed me and offered me a cut to be one of their enforcers with the kids. It took time undercover. You had to make people trust you. You had to be believable and pay your dues. We didn't have that. This was all gonna happen in a matter of weeks not months. And I really didn't know how believable Heero was as a street punk.

I exited the terminal, bought a shrink wrapped unattractive looking sandwich from a coffee shop and waited for a bus. I caught one, keeping my hood up and looking like an average young punk as I put my coins in the slot and slunk to a seat by myself. No one joined me. I suppose I gave off the air of street punk. The tattoos helped. Made it more authentic despite 'Fei's reservations.

I watched the good part of L2 drift away – the rich part, the places with the apartments and government buildings and shops. It wasn't long until that disappeared and you get to the streets I grew up on. I tried not to get sentimental – it was a long time since I'd been here and I wasn't that same kid. I was a war hero, a major fuck up, now a well-paid Preventer agent. Not the same kid that everyone died around. Not that kid…

The bus stopped and it brought me back to the present. I grabbed my duffle and jumped off the bus, not thanking the driver as I was being a punk. You don't thank anybody for nothing. It was getting dark, the colony day cycle starting to turn to dusk and the neon of the seedy part of L2 could be seen brightly. I zipped up the hoodie and held my duffle close to me. I knew there would be plenty of little shits ready to try pickpocketing me – there was nothing worth getting but fluff in my pockets but my duffle had some mission stuff that I needed and my new laptop. No chance of them getting that.

I walked quickly to the rendezvous location that was located in a part of L2 known by the locals as the District. The District was where you could satisfy any vice, girls, boys, girl/boys, drugs, smokes, drink, tattoos, guns, information and shitty food. We'd always tried to avoid the District as kids. It was a bad place and most kids never came back – they ended up being offered some food and then trapped into trafficking drugs or worse, the sex trade. Solo never told me as kid why we never went near… as an adult I was glad that son of bitch had looked out of me. It made me think of those kids in my last undercover. It made me wonder if any of the kids that disappeared when I'd been here ended up in one of those warehouses, terrified, underfed, dirty and ready to be shipped off to some unknown place. It made me shiver.

At night the District was busy, at this time when the cycle hadn't quite gone fully round to night, it looked pathetic as you saw the day dealers hanging around cafes and the day whores stood against walls. It just looked sad. It reminded me of a waiting room with people ready to give up and die. Fucking hated the District. All that was bad about L2.

Wufei contacted me before I got my shuttle to confirm a rendezvous with Heero and an opportunity discuss his progress in the area. I'd scowled at the vidphone in the busy terminal as I checked in for the last contact prior to going under. I just didn't know what to say – yeah, that's awesome, we're gonna be a great team because you know, there's no personal shit between us. I felt vaguely guilty as I thought about Heero – yeah, I'd thought about him plenty over the three year period but I had been with other guys. I'd not been celibate and damn near, I didn't expect or want him to have been either. If he thought I was dead then he had to move on. But then he'd punched 'Fei which maybe that said something. I'd scratched the back of my head as 'Fei talked through the details of the rendezvous and I nodded to confirm I understood. His face was pretty unreadable over the vidscreen but I'm guessing mine showed the swirling emotions.

"Maxwell, it's over three years. You are both different people."

Huh. I wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing. I was not that different. Maybe I found it harder to laugh, maybe I didn't smile a lot anymore, maybe the sense of humour had gone from black to goddamn bleak, but I was pretty much the same.

"Yeah, it's fine. We'll go kick ass together. Be like old times," I said, my voice a bit deep for what was meant to be a light hearted comment.

"Duo," he said, a gentleness in his voice that had freaked me out. "Look after each other."

"You getting soft in your old age? We'll be fine – no hair pulling and shit."

He opened his mouth to respond but I cut him off.

"Shit 'Fei, my shuttle's boarding in like five, man. We'll be fine, we know you're sorry, we'll get the bad guys and I'll see you for a shitty debrief all nice and be a good boy for ya."

"Good luck."

After that I disconnected the line and boarded the shuttle. The conversation was running through my mind as I walked towards the rendezvous location.

Wufei explained Heero was living in the District above an internet café imaginatively named Wired and had been on L2 for nearly three weeks. He'd managed to find out some information and had managed to get himself in the trust of the local gun running gang. That was mainly because 'Fei had managed to secure some old weapons from Preventer busts that he'd been able to barter and sell for some information. It seemed like he'd got somewhere but with the actual gang had hit a brick wall. Couldn't imagine him being charming and well, cool to the kids on L2. Hell, I could barely imagine what he looked like properly anymore. I didn't keep anything with me, remember? I had no photographs, I had jack shit and since even if I'd tried to find traces of Heero (which I had and I figured he'd deleted it himself, go figure) there was nothing, I didn't have anything tangible of what had happened between us. I remembered stuff and some things were clearer than others.

I remembered how blue his eyes were – that stuck with me. I remembered how he could floor me with a look, how he could make his intention damn well clear just by this glint in his eye – intentions that usually ended up with me pinned against a wall, a bed, a floor, a shower – fuck there had been so many times and places that I remembered but I didn't remember how he smiled. I forgot how he looked when he was puzzled when I said something that he didn't get – you know, something that frequently happened. I remembered the sex – that's what'll happen when you're a hormonal teenager but I didn't remember much else. It all blurred together. Then there was stuff I wish I forgot – how wounded and lost he was after the whole Mariemaia shit and how I couldn't deal. How I was a fucking asshole and unable to do anything but push him away. How I thought Relena and the others could put him back together. I remembered saying the words I could never take back. Hates a bitch of word. Be careful with it people and don't say it when you don't really mean it. Especially don't say it to someone who has a puzzling concept of human emotions. Shit. I was the bad guy in this situation and Quat had been right. He'd needed me right then, he'd damn near wanted me at that point and I'd been too focused on how fucking empty I felt that I didn't see. Maybe it was more than just fuck buddies. Never could work it out.

I sighed deeply as I arrived at Wired and looked inside. The café itself was dark apart from the computer screens and was a complete dump. Its décor was cables and insides of computers. It wasn't as such a décor as just loads of shit piled up. Typical L2.

Wufei had said there was a back entrance to the apartment so I scooted around the building row – next door was a pawn shop one way, the other way was a dive bar. Bet it wasn't the quietest place to live. But it was cheap. And it looked like the sort of place a local thug could afford. Being undercover was about always keeping up the appearance of who you were supposed to be. You couldn't be some two bit thief and live at the Ritz even though the Preventers could afford you to. Shit, I had so many scars and wounds that were treated badly because I couldn't go into a hospital and show that I had medical insurance. I had a pretty impressive slash across my stomach from a knife fight a few years ago that never really healed properly. I was just a patchwork of scars.

There was a door way with a buzzer for a few apartments in the building row. I looked at it and saw the number I was looking for - twelve. Kinda poetic, everything in ones and twos. My finger went for the buzzer but then I stopped. There was a fire escape. Hmmm. That was a certainly a more interesting way to make an entrance. I don't know what exactly had got into me but there I was looking at the ladder and the fire escape. I secured my duffle over my shoulder and jumped to the bottom rung. I hadn't grown that tall and I sure as hell wasn't as elegant as Trowa but I made it and was able to pull the rest of my weight, thank god for still being skinny and travelling light. I climbed up the ladder and then reached the metallic stairs and quietly walked past the windows of the other residents. I looked in at some – the apartments were real small and looked pretty shitty but it was the best a lot of people could afford.

I crept to the window that in my calculations would lead into Heero's apartment and stopped for a second. I suppose I was doing this stupid ass thing as I was delaying the inevitable meeting with him. Shit. I swallowed and edged to the window and looked in. I could see the back of his head and I couldn't help a smirk, it was a familiar sight to me. And not in a dirty way. He was always turned away from me, looking at his laptop, running mission schematics or something. Hacking into some database, getting information and generally just ignoring me.

I could see his hair was pretty much the same and he was sat straight backed like I always remembered but apart from that I couldn't see. I must have made a noise as suddenly he turned and I could feel my breathing stop for second. He looked over, a gun already in his hand and I could see the slightly confused look that turned into a disapproving look –a knitting of brows that I'd seen a million times before. I decided in that instance to give him a small smile and a wave.

And I was confronted with the Heero Yuy Death Glare as he stalked across the room to open the window. Huh, some things never change.