Long thin fingers meticulously combed through thick coffee colored hair. He was pretty sure all the matted places were free now but truly taming this unruly mop was impossibility. It would still stick up in every which way regardless. It reminded him of someone else he could name, A sly twist played about the corners of his mouth. Then he judged his task finished and changed positions, curling up on the floor of the cage to give Prince better access to his own mane. The old lion placed one heavy paw in the small of Trowa's back and soon the rough tongue fell into a steady pattern rasping from the back of his neck to the crown of his head and the whole length of his prodigious forelock. It felt so good. Lions are incapable of purring and so was Trowa still he sighed closing his eyes and relaxed.
Someone cleared their throat noisily and Trowa winced. He purposefully waited till the darkest hours of the night so no one would catch him. The ringmaster had never quite gotten over the shock and that had been years ago now. In the long run it was just better not to be seen. Cathy never wanted to intrude when he needed some 'alone time' so that left… "Yuy," He guessed aloud.
"Barton," That inflectionless voice never showed surprise, "Are you just about finished?"
"Why, you want to go next?" Trowa smiled, white teeth glinting in the darkened circus tent. "You could do with a bit of grooming," He joked lightly.
"Thank you no." Heero deadpanned, "We have a mission."
"Why am I not surprised?" Trowa snorted arching his back in a catlike stretch. "Thanks friend," He nuzzled the old lion one last time before rolling to his feet and exiting the cage.
The two Preventers fell in to a companionable silence as Heero accompanied him back to the mobile home Cathy kept for him to return to between missions Trowa could feel those analytical Cobalt eyes scanning the small confines of his trailer. Heero didn't judge but Trowa wondered what the other agent thought of an ex-mercenary's half-hearted attempt at normalcy. Quatre had called the place cozy. And Duo thought it Fine. For his purposes the furniture was battered but comfortable. The duffle bag he kept ready for instances like this lay packed and ready beside the door. When it came down to it, that duffle, and the pictures of his comrades tacked around small round mirror were all that made this place his. Green eyes lingered on each precious memory before glancing at his reflection and running his fingers through his still slightly damp bangs. Almost as an afterthought he picked up a brown grease pencil to scrawl a quick note for Cathy on the glass. She knew what he was and knew he wouldn't change. But that didn't stop her from worrying after him. "Mission specs? Anything extra I might need?" Trowa asked as he grabbed his bag, his mind was already miles away.
"Not really. We can pick up the rest at headquarters before we head to the airstrip." Heero nodded and led the way to his waiting jeep. As they passed the taciturn agent jerked his chin in the direction of the lion's tent. "You do that often?" He asked.
"Sometimes," Trowa admitted. "Quatre guessed something to that affect a few months ago."
"Very perceptive is our 04." Heero grumbled almost too quiet for Trowa to catch.
"He caught me by surprise." Trowa confirmed. "I am often amazed how his mind works."
"Hn," was the more familiar reply.
"Quatre was hypothesizing about your hair too." Trowa admitted, "He thought perhaps someone gave you a crew-cut and you'd just let it grow out however it wanted."
"J." Heero confirmed. The frown that crossed his friend's features said there was clearly more to the story that that. Trowa canted his head to the side in silent inquiry knowing any stronger interrogation would cause the perfect solder to recede back into his impassive shell. He waited for a few heartbeats then Heero continued.
"It wasn't always like this. I used to be quite…meticulous about it. Getting highlights and using gel and all, I suppose, if you can imagine, I styled it a bit like Kushrenada when I was a boy." He almost smiled eyes shining in the moonlight. "Odin took tremendous glee in messing it up in any random moment. I resorted to caring a foldable comb, like a switchblade, to fend off his assaults. It became sort of a game between us. After he died there wasn't any point." He shrugged helplessly. "I left my comb when I took up his gun. That was why J cut it, so I'd forget."
Heero turned again to head for the jeep leaving Trowa standing there for a second. "I'm sorry." Trowa didn't know what else to say, words had never been his strong suit. He bit his lip in thought for a moment then used his longer stride to catch up to his friend. Still he was surprised the amount of effort it took to reach up and run his fingers through that unruly chocolate mane. Heero's eyes widened in surprise but he didn't growl, as Trowa had expected. In fact the other agent hadn't even tried to bite him. Trowa just had to hope Maxwell never found out.