warnings: the usual ooc-ness, more of Relena, jealous!Heero
„So, you're trying to say that you actually know where the coordinates are but you can't tell us because…"
"… it's complicated." I ventured a glance in Heero's direction.
"Right." There it was again… Incredulity tinged with lots of sarcasm.
"All I can say is that I had an intima- I mean- *interesting* encounter last night which proved to be quite… quite… revealing," I offered.
"Aha."
"Well. If Duo refuses to tell us where the coordinates are, I say it's up to him to get them," suggested Quatre, his right eye twitching somewhat maliciously.
"Erm…"
"That's a fantastic idea, Quatre," Trowa chimed in, not a little love-struck. Wufei nodded enthusiastically in agreement while Heero… just looked his usual stoic self.
"Ok, it's settled then," Quatre resumed. "You have a week to sort this out, Duo. Or *we* will." I must admit he could be quite intimidating when he had a mind to.
Well, that's how I came to spend every minute not occupied with Heero and distilling rum in Relena's company, reluctantly trying to get into her pants- or rather her outrageously pink dresses. You could say I *courted* her, which was difficult enough since she had - quite inexplicably - decided to behave with impeccable modesty for once. I accompanied her on long, long walks all around the island, listening half-heartedly to her equally long monologues about her plans for the future at one of the fashionable courts of Europe, joined her and her girl friends, most of them notorious piratesses, for tea spiked with generous amounts of rum and had meals with her in her father's inn. Yet despite my valiant efforts I just managed to find out that Relena apparently planed to have a career as a coveted court lady and was very fond of rum, all in all not very helpful information. The only good thing about the whole situation was that the islanders, who hadn't been particularly nice to me since I got the opportunity to send so much time with Heero, the object of their collective affections, began to warm towards me when they noticed that I had obviously directed my attentions towards Heero's sister.
The most depressing thing about my unwilling courtship was that Heero began to treat me rather more shabbily than usual. He was less eager to listen to my stories even though I tried to make them as captivating and gripping as possible, basically making them up out of thin air by now, inventing adventures, intrigues, treasure hunts and love affairs as I went along… but all to no avail.
It all started on an evening a couple of days after the fateful night I had spent unconscious in Relena's bed. When the sun was just about to set and Heero and I were not even close to finishing our work for the day, Heero suddenly dropped the piece of tubing he'd been fiddling with and declared that he was hungry and that now would be the best time to go over to the inn and have dinner. To say that I was surprised would have been an understatement. I don't have to remind you that Heero had refused all my dinner invitations since the first day of our acquaintance (with the exception of that memorable, surreal evening when he got naked in my room to show me the map). Then again, Heero had not actually invited me to join him, he'd merely stated that he intended to have dinner, quite possibly without any of his annoying suitors and these included me.
Secretly heaving a lovelorn sigh, I replied, quite eloquently: "Um…okay."
"I assume you're not hungry."
"Well, I am, but-"
"You're going to have dinner with my sister."
"No! I mean, yes… I do, but-"
"I understand." And that's when he took up the piece of tubing he'd dropped and resumed tinkering with our distillation apparatus.
"Didn't you say you were hungry…?"
"Hn. Yes, I did."
"So… you're not going to have dinner?"
"No."
Well, Heero certainly was an enigma. Following that evening, he behaved almost *moodily* if indeed it was possible for Heero to be anything less than aloof and composed. He still insisted to try the newly distilled rum before me, bravely facing death on an almost daily basis, but all the progress I thought we had made, spending so much time together and telling stories, seemed to have been lost.
Pretty soon, the whole situation became so depressing that I began to drown my misery in barrels of rum and started gambling again as if there were no tomorrow, winning a whole lot of worthless trinkets and even more tin buttons until there was basically no pirate with properly buttoned shirts or jackets on the whole island...