Bishi Pile Challenge

Major challenge response: Trust, Memories, Expectations

Minor challenge response: Shadows, Organization, Veteran

Word count: 3,376

Series: Friends 2: Friends and Enemies 2/??

Author: Karina

Pairings: Zechs + Duo, Trowa x Quatre

Ratings: M 15+ [In Australia] Rated in the event of bad language and violence.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or the characters.

Warnings:

Many thanks to Katie and ShenLong Deb for running their wonderful eyes over this and cleaning up my act.

Character Challenge: Duo, Zechs and Quatre

Chapter 2

He was tempted to turn the helo around and fly back to the air terminal as quickly as the rotors could turn. Quatre had given him 15 minutes to get to the designated location and the tone of his voice had been deadly serious. This was not a game; that was what the underlying message had said. Quatre's voice was reminiscent of occasions during the war when their lives had hung in the balance. Duo's memories of the times when they had made the mistake of ignoring the seemingly innocent blonde led him to be almost afraid.

What lay behind the message?

Did he really want to go there, to the private air port Quatre had designated, and discover what the man had done?

A law unto himself; that was perhaps the best description of Quatre Winner. He had the money and the means to thumb his nose at most people and organisations in the ESUN and he did; regularly. A great many people in positions of power had been burned, to varying degrees of severity, by Quatre and one day Winner would run out of luck.

No one could be invincible, despite the best planning and resources. In every operation there was always an element of luck, rogue and bringing with it the make or break moment. It was inevitable that someone, at some time, would bite back.

Had that now happened? Was Quatre fighting some sort of action to deter people from taking what was his?

"Shit."

He had trouble behind him and now it appeared there was to be trouble ahead as well. He had promised Marquise he would make himself scarce; cruise below the radar of anyone who might wish to silence his voice as a witness. He had intended to largely honour that promise… at least for a time, but now?

What had Quatre been up to while everyone was occupied up on that mountain? Some days he swore his friend needed a nursemaid, a baby sitter; someone to keep him from making rash decisions from his heart and not his head.

Things could go bad quickly when their strategist used his heart to decide his course of action against the rule of common sense. But then Duo knew all about making sudden and seemingly rash decisions. He had made a few himself and he had benefited from more than one Quatre had made in the past.

"Barton is gonna blame me."

Whatever it was behind this clandestine use of a private airfield somehow it would come back to being his fault. Quatre constantly went out on a limb for his friends, or for a good cause that too few people with means were willing to champion. He seemed to give little thought to his own safety… and that, Duo knew, was not really accurate.

It was not fair to the man or to the consummate strategic skill of him; or to his instincts.

Winner was an exemplary strategist.

That had been proven repeatedly during the war and on many occasions since the peace had been won. He was no fool, but sometimes Quatre seemed to take prodigious leaps instead of judicious steps, skipping over procedures, discussions and heading straight into trouble. That he somehow managed to extricate himself from the mire time and again, and always end up smelling of roses and rolling in additional wealth, was just… well… Duo was uncertain exactly what to call it. Luck seemed to be such a poor description given the hard work Quatre put in during those times of trial.

No, Quatre was definitely not a fool. He was anything but that. He was, in fact, as misunderstood in his way as Duo had found himself to be.

//I guess that's why we deal so well with each other.//

He had not had a problem relating to Solo all of those years ago, and until Quatre had come along Duo would have had to say that Solo was the only person he had not had a problem communicating with. They had understood each other on so many levels that few words were ever needed between them. It was almost as though Solo had known what he was thinking and he had understood Solo in turn, without the need for spoken words.

It had been a long time since he had lost Solo to the plague on L2 and those were far from pleasant memories, though largely looked back on fondly for the people who had lived them with him. He had really not known what to think when he had first met Quatre and spent those long days in the desert heat with him. They had so easily seemed to fit together in a way that had nothing to do with physical attraction, but was increasingly intimate the longer they had spent together. Even the presence of Trowa today, Quatre's significant other, did not impinge on their ability to understand and accept each other.

It was not even a problem between them that Quatre was filthy rich and he was a street rat from L2 turned Sweeper, turned… well, hobo? Quatre did not push his wealth on him, understanding he stood on his own two feet and gave in coin other than credits into their relationship.

In his view it was cool for Quatre to be with Trowa; he was happy for his friend… friends. They were good together, fitting well in a way that was as intimate as his bond to Quatre but very different too. Trowa was a good influence in curbing Quatre's more impulsive moments, but Trowa never tried to hold him back, never told him what he could, or could not, do.

//Not like Hilde.//

Ah, no. He had to stop that before he began. That sort of thinking was not fair to her. He was not sure what exactly had gone wrong in their relationship, he had thought things were okay between them, but she seemed to want more from him. It wasn't as though she had said she wanted a wedding, ring and the whole works. No, that was not what had ended things for them, it was something else. Something deep inside himself had not… filled… where it should have.

He was not in love with Quatre but he could not for an instant deny that Quatre warmed him deep inside. He had thought he loved Hilde but that place deep within him, in his psyche he guessed, was empty… or cold maybe?… when Quatre had not been near.

No, the break up between he and Hilde wasn't her fault. The blame for that had to rest squarely on his shoulders. Things had been falling apart in slow but sure stages from the very beginning because he had not realised; it was his fault for so long ignoring what was missing.

He had hurt her and he was sorry, but his leaving as he had was better, kinder to her in the long term. She would go on quite well without him.

And now, when he least expected to find it again, there was someone else who impacted on that deep place he had leaned to acknowledge from associating with Quatre more than the shrinks. It was just about the last person he would ever have expected to incite any reaction from him… except, perhaps, anger over past sins… but he was not without sin himself and therefore he should not cast stones.

Marquise. What was it about the man that made him sit up and take notice, as he did with Quatre? What was it about him that made him… God, no! He had been about to say trust?!

Did he actually trust Marquise?

Only Quatre, and Solo before him, had had that trust naturally, without earning it. One had been an ally during the war and the other… the other had been the enemy. The enemy to him and to the others who fought as he had fought for peace, but then it could be said the opposition had equally considered themselves to be fighting for peace too!

Everyone thought their own cause just and some were far more honest about it than others.

And he trusted Marquise now, for some strange reason, because something inside him gave a nod of approval. What would have happened if they had met through the war? Would that instinctive trust he now found have been there then?

//Shit. I don't understand any of this. I don't get why I'm so concerned about what is happening to him. It's not like he's a Gundam Pilot; he's not one of us five. He's former OZ, an officer, and he did that whole freak out thing with the White Fang and threatened to destroy everything on Earth. Why should I trust him?//

Experience had taught him Marquise was hardly trustworthy material, at least in his books.

But how to equate that past action with the man he had met up on the mountain? It did not seem to fit.

The man he had met, almost dead when he had found him, was quite definitely sane. Dangerous as all hell let loose to be sure, but sane none-the-less. Marquise could probably produce a dozen reports from psychologists attesting to that fact and Duo snorted softly in amusement; he sure as hell could produce them and still they called him a certified nut case.

People!

What was it about Marquise that determined he could trust him, yet at the same time, screamed the need for caution, not because he was not to be trusted but because he was dangerous? The man had not been like that during the war, had he?

How had the men placed under his command dealt with him? Had they respected him? That was the measure of a good officer, Duo knew, the degree of respect held by the men who served under him, and were willing to lay their lives on the line trusting in his abilities to get the best out of them and get them safely home.

How had Khushrenada dealt with him if Marquise had been that… scary?

Maybe he should look into that? Find out more about him. It could give him some insight into why the man affected him as he did.

Duo scrubbed a hand over his face, tired, irritable and confused. Everything was wrong in his world and he felt he was swinging uncontrollably towards an oncoming, unknown disaster.

Flying without a flight plan over a night shrouded city toward a dark airstrip was certainly not helping. The navigation beacons would permit him to find the airstrip but would give him little assistance in landing, not that he was incapable of landing on a dark patch of ground without all of the modern conveniences to assist, and there was sure to be at least a minimum of lighting available to set down without thinking the ground was a little further away from him than it actually was.

A light blinked on, flashing coyly at him from his control panel and he sighed, pushing aside thinking to correct his flight path. The light was a landing beacon, unexpected assistance but he would follow it in to land… and a series of red lights springing up in the night ahead of his flight path further relieved his anxiety.

He was tired, he was anxious about what had transpired at the main terminal. They had to have landed by now and for all he knew his friends and Marquise could be bloody corpses on the tarmac.

//Shit!//

He was a paranoid bastard tonight! So not good.

The private strip was visible now, a heliport landing pad illuminated by carefully placed flares and the beacon light on his control panel was almost a solid red glow as he approached. The flares and the beacon were all the assist he was going to get for this night landing, but it was more than he had had for some missions during the war. One did not look a gift horse in the mouth and refuse the aid when offered.

Coming in to land he had the opportunity to survey the area, eyes piercing the darkness, noting every detail possible in the poor lighting. There were no lights other than the usual security lights left to burn at night. No indication of anyone waiting for him either, the shadows were too dark, and Duo felt his guts crawl with unease.

"Ah, what have you done, Quatre? Why all the cloak and dagger shit?"

There were people down there, at least two he assumed, to rig the helipad flares and set the beacon, but he could detect no trace of them as he brought the helicopter around for the landing.

Duo put distractions out of his mind to focus his concentration on bringing the helo down safely, breathing a sigh of relief as the wheels touched the ground and he began to shut the controls down, eyes constantly scanning the darkness for any hint of movement.

If it was not for the fact that Quatre had called him, and he recognised that voice as being his friend's, then he might have considered Marquise's 'friends' might be at work, aiming to remove him immediately from the scene. If it had been Quatre and he had been forced to make the call… no, Quatre would have warned him. They had set codes for that sort of thing during the war and they were all a bunch of paranoid bastards sure the world was out to get them.

His eyes closed and his hand dipped into the pocket of his flight jacket as his phone rang.

"Yes?"

"What are you waiting for?! Get your arse out of the chopper. You will find a car parked behind the Control Tower. There's a map in the glove compartment, route marked, and the clock is ticking, Duo."

He stared at the disconnected phone for a long moment, scowling and then sighed; he would find nothing out if he did not reach the blonde.

"Trowa is gonna be pissed. I don't know what is going on, but I know somehow it will come back to having my arse in the fire."

He would need to have a few words with Quatre about involving him in another scheme that would, eventually, earn Winner Enterprises a fortune. These schemes always worked out that Quatre increased his holdings after one of these madcap starts, and no one else ever seemed to understood at the beginning what the hell Quatre was up to.

//Again no warning Quatre was being coerced into making this contact, which means everything is above board. If you are being so secretive about it, Kitty Kat… what ever 'It' is...then I guess it's okay. Zechsy wanted me to go to ground.//

The current clandestine activity should make it hard for the organisation Marquise worked for… or rather for the individual or individuals who wanted Marquise out of the picture, to put their grubby little paws on his trail. He would wait and see what Quatre was playing at and when he found out what game was being played he would decide how best to act.

What was happening back at the Preventer's terminal? The not knowing was doing little for his nerves, setting him right on edge. No one had better leap at him from the darkness out there or they would get rather a cold reception. He could feel the knife sheath tucked up his sleeve, ready and waiting to release the blade with just the right muscle action…

Duo released the flight restraints and cast a quick look about the cockpit. He wanted to go back and see what was happening at the Preventer terminal. Marquise had been determined to hunt down the one who had tried to kill him and Duo could understand that… but to go back into the lions den, unarmed and with no back up?

"Idiot."

The mark of a man accustomed to doing things himself, of a man who did not have anyone he could rely on to guard his back. Duo knew what it was to have no one to watch your back, and while there were now strains between he and the other pilots he did not doubt they would watch his back if the need arose.

They had gone up the mountain after all and it would not have been because of Marquise that they did it.

Jumping down from the helicopter, Duo closed and locked the door, hoping Quatre would have someone remove the machine at some point through the night. The removal of the machine would further cloud his activities, making him that much harder to track.

Setting off for the Control Tower at a brisk jog, Duo scanned the tarmac for any hint of another presence. He was sure the night was alive with eyes. Someone was here, lurking, watching, waiting…

//This is stupid. Blonde's are bloody idiots. Dangerous idiots.//

But so, it appeared, was he because he seemed to have little if any control over his life. Did Winner and Marquise feel this same sense of standing on the edge of a precipice, staring over into a bottomless pit… feel the ground beneath their feet beginning to crumble?

Damn it all, he had felt comfortable with Zechs! As comfortable as he felt with Quatre. He did not do that. He was Duo Maxwell, walking paranoia in the flesh, and he did not trust easily! Something had clicked between them and he would have liked longer to really get to know the other man; to explore that acceptance of the older man. To learn if he could trust him.

//Damn its cold.//

Cold and dark. His breath misted in front of this face and his lungs ached the air was so cold. Ice dangled from the eaves of the buildings and fresh snow crunched under his boots, making his footfalls far from silent. The shadows were deep and many and while he had fairly good night vision he could barely see the tarmac under his feet, despite the fresh fall of snow.

The feeling of not being alone in the night was growing stronger and raising his heightened senses to new levels of alarm. The soft crunch of booted feet... behind him. He was in the shadow of the control tower now and he hesitated, about to turn when the unmistakable sounds of the helicopter warming up came through the clear cold air.

Quatre had proven time and time again that he was nothing if not efficient… and he was an exemplary strategist.

The car was where he had been told it would be, on the far side of the tower, and it was cold enough Duo was thankful to throw himself behind the wheel, after first checking in the rear seat. The keys were in the ignition and he started the engine even as he reached for the glove compartment in search of the map. Instant heat from the air conditioner startled him and he hesitated… the car was rather warm.

The tank was full, the engine warm and the interior warmed up against the cold. Who ever had brought the car had abandoned it recently… the very one who now piloted the helicopter? Quatre was very good and Duo was thankful he would not have to freeze any more than he had to.

Opening out the folder he found, the only item in the glove box he noted, Duo studied the map frowning as he realised the round about route led ultimately to the industrial area on the far side of New Port City.

"I suppose I might find a bed before sunrise, if I'm really lucky. How much running around are you going to have me doing?"

Shaking his head slightly Duo considered the route marked out in pink highlighter and grunted softly; there would be no using the GPS for this trip. Time to go and a sticky note attached to the pad informed him he was to avoid breaking speed limits and attracting attention. Discretion, was it?

"Fine, no lead foot, but you owe me an explanation, Kitty Kat and you better make it a good one."

End

Karina Robertson 2010