Blue Divide

by ExecutiveShrimp

AU, 2x1: Detective Duo Maxwell is called to the scene of a murder and kidnapping. When it is discovered that he knows one of the victims, he becomes the prime suspect. In a race against the clock, nobody knows who can be trusted.

2. Chapter 2

Negasonic Teenage Warhead: Thanks so much! I'm glad you've enjoyed the first chapter :)

Shima Yi: You will find out this chapter if Duo is guilty or not. I hope you won't be disappointed with the direction I have chosen for this story. Thank you for reading and reviewing :)

CaseyCuervo: I'm happy you liked the first chapter :) Hopefully this chapter won't disappoint.

PrussianTails: Thank you so much for reading my story and taking the time to leave a review. The entire story is already written, so the updates won't be too far apart. I hope you will like this update.

Scared of Darkness: What a great compliment, thanks! I'm happy to have recruited you back for the GW fandom :) I hope that you will like this update, please share your thoughts with me on the story :)

TheSpaz: Thanks for the review! Let me know what you think of this update :)

Animefangirl0219: Haha, it's not a vote, the story has already been completed, but duly noted :P I hope you will enjoy this update and thank you for taking the time to leave a review.

---

Auhor's note:

I'm so happy people have taken interest in another 'writing experiment' of mine! I really enjoyed puzzling this narrative together, so I'm grateful for the positive feedback. I intend to also post the final chapter within a couple of days. The next chapter for "Brothers" is ready but that needs to 'simmer' for a while anyway.

Part two of three. The two chapters will be told from Duo's POV.

---

Warnings for part 2: Language, violence, sexual content, the mildest bondage ever

---

Blue Divide

Part 2

Duo had been living a life of secrets and emotional isolation since he was only a young boy. He first realized he was different from all the other kids, in a way no one could understand nor accept, when he was placed into the foster care of a nice enough family; a father in a business-suit, a stay-at-home mom and a son his age who was on the soccer team of the school they made Duo attend as well. He was eleven and the other boy was twelve. They played together at home and Duo joined the soccer team. That foster family was nice and in that regard they were nothing like the homes he had been placed in before.

He liked the boy more than he had ever liked anybody. He enjoyed playing with him and talking with him. He never wanted to spend any time with anybody else. The boy was kind and sweet. He was special to Duo.

If he had grown up as a normal kid, in a steady household, perhaps he would have known better, but when he realized his feelings for the boy encompassed much more than friendship, he didn't think of this as odd. He wasn't ashamed and he wasn't scared. He didn't know that he should have been.

He told the boy how he felt and after that he kissed him, on the mouth and the boy kissed him back.

His feelings for the boy became stronger than ever and for the first time he suspected he was happy. For weeks to come they continued to play together in their rooms and on the soccer field. Sometimes they would kiss and touch each other where it felt good.

When, one day, the father of the household walked in on them, everything changed. The big man grabbed him by his upper arm – so painfully Duo was reminded of his own father – and he dragged him out of the boy's bedroom. Downstairs he proceeded to slap Duo across the cheek and with an accusing finger pointed at him he made sure, in a loud, almost shouting tone of voice, that Duo understood how wrong and sick it had been of him to kiss another boy.

The family suspected Duo had forced himself on their son and they were abhorred by how he had disrespected their hospitality with his brutish, perverted behavior. Once the mother was done cussing him out to avenge her son's besmirched innocence, the father brought him back to child services and he told them Duo had sexually assaulted their son.

There were no more foster homes after that. Duo grew up in two all-boy orphanages. In the first orphanage he made the mistake of telling the other boys that he had been in love with the son of his last foster family. The big boys beat him badly, regularly. Everyone would call him names and no one would play with him. When the violence escalated, the caretakers had decided to transfer him to a different orphanage and they strongly advised him not to tell anyone that he had kissed another boy, or else the same punishment from his peers awaited him.

And so his double life started when he was thirteen years old and he had to bottle up his feelings to protect himself. He fell in love with a couple more boys during his teenage years but he knew better than to act on those feelings. If anyone would find out what he truly was, he knew he would be persecuted.

After a few years he stopped falling in love with anybody and he started to excel at the deceit. Lying was a gateway to a youth of theft and violence, but he never got caught, because he was too good at it, although he would never be proud of that.

As he grew older and ashamed of the choices that had defined him, all he aspired to be was a police officer; to be one of the good guys, to distance himself from his roots and his past and prove to himself – and anyone else – that he was better than that.

He graduated from the academy at the top of his class and became a police officer and then soon made it into the undercover squad because he was so good at pretending to be someone he was not. Nobody realized that he was that good because he was always pretending. He was always hiding his true self.

He resented his time in the undercover narcotics division, even though he should have been grateful for the swift, upward career move. He wanted to be one of the good guys, but instead had to pretend to be the exact thing he rejected, and most days he felt like a crook pretending to a cop, not the other way around. At least the undercover assignments allowed him to keep his colleagues at arm's length. As had been true his entire life, it was important to keep his sexuality a secret.

Even as an adult he feared the consequences of coming out. He knew he likely would not suffer physical abuse, as he had in the past, but as a police officer your career depends, in large parts, on the grace of the superiors; the old guard, senior agents whose homophobia trickled down all ranks. It takes a certain kind of person to become a police officer. The machismo that they all shared – even the women - left most susceptible to a hatred of those they perceived as less tough, less virile and less strong.

Duo had seen up close what it would do to an officer's career even if he was only suspected of homosexuality. The man didn't get that long-deserved promotion and his team treated him differently. The man was being scrutinized and his possibly deviant sexuality was blamed for his every flaw – if he wrongly filed a case folder, if he spilled coffee on his shirt, if he missed during target practice, if a suspect outran him… it was all 'because he was gay'. The tension between the team erupted into a physical fight and after being released from the hospital, the man was reassigned and put into a dead-end function, supposedly for his own well-being.

Duo had long decided that fate would not befall him, he wouldn't let it. He was too ambitious and too committed. All he wanted was to be a cop and put away criminals that deserved to rot, like his own father. Every time he got some piece of shit locked up, he felt like he was getting rid of another part of himself that was too much like his father. The parts that, if left unchecked, would fester and devolve like his father did. It was a cathartic process. He wasn't going to let the curse of his sexuality stand in the way of that.

He was friendly to everyone, to avoid anyone making up rumors or dig up dirt on him out of spite, but he never actually befriended any of them. Even the most superficially personal detail of his life felt like leaving the door open for people to discover the skeletons in his dark closet. No one ever realized it was a show of smoke and mirrors; smiles, jokes and birthday cards.

He satisfied his basic urges with casual sexual encounters with strangers – not even exclusively men – and there was never any intimacy with them, because he couldn't risk it. Sex with intimacy leads to a relationship, lovers become boyfriends and boyfriends want to meet your 'friends' and accompany you to the station's New Year's party. It was a slippery slope he avoided carefully.

When the loneliness crept in, he had started drinking. Just a little bit to take the edge off his self-loathing and headache-inducing paranoia and for a while that helped. But soon he had to drink more and more to achieve the same results. He was never in denial about his addiction or the potentially devastating effect it could have on the career he had been protecting so dutifully all those years, but he had no one to reach out to for help and all he could do to numb that heartache was to drink more. The drinking didn't help his temper. It was a struggle to maintain that friendly façade in a manner that would make no one curious enough to ever look behind the mask. Sometimes, he would snap, but luckily he never betrayed his secret.

Milliardo called him to his office one day and urged him to be honest. He said: "I know."

Duo's initial fear had been that Milliardo had somehow found out about his homosexuality, but it quickly became clear his boss had only become aware of his drinking problem and he had been relieved.

Milliardo graciously offered help, he encouraged Duo to talk to him or talk to the station's counsellor, Sally Po. But he couldn't open up to either of them. Milliardo was his boss and Sally was WuFei's longtime girlfriend that had everybody wondering: 'When the Hell is Chang going to pop the question?'. He was too distrusting to open up to anyone.

Duo was grateful when he had to go undercover for an investigation. It meant Milliardo would have to get off his back for the time being. But the environment that he had to put himself in caused his drinking to worsen and a sense of despair grew within him to an unmanageable size and insufferable sharp, jagged shape. The fear that he would end up ruining his career and falling further into that void of loneliness, consumed him.

One night, very drunk and feeling very sorry for himself, Duo called the suicide prevention hotline.

And Heero Yuy answered.

"I don't know why I'm calling," He said sheepishly. "I'm not suicidal. I don't think so, anyway."

Heero was nice, patient and understanding. Of course he was, he wouldn't be working at the hotline otherwise.

"I don't really have anything I want to say. I don't want to talk about my problems, or whatever…" Duo continued on in a manner betraying his confusion and insecurity. "I was feeling lonely."

"We don't have to talk about problems. We can talk about anything, or not talk at all."

"I don't want to talk," He said. He was inebriated and uninhibited. He worried that even if they would simply talk about the weather he would end up telling this stranger his entire sob-story of a life.

"That's okay. Do you want me to just stay on the line with you?"

The offer surprised Duo. Calling and talking seemed so irreversibly linked, it was weird to him to be on the phone with someone and not speak, after all, that was the entire purpose of a phone call. Yet, the offer intrigued him and he wondered if it would help him feel less alone. "Sure."

"Okay. I'm here for you," He said and then he became quiet.

Duo stared across his living room, shaking his head at himself. This was crazy, wasn't it? But for whatever reason, he didn't want to hang up. He frowned when he heard a particular sound from the other end of the line. It took him a moment until he recognized it. He kept quiet for a few minutes but then he could not contain his curiosity. "Are you typing?"

"Yes."

Somehow Duo could tell the man was smiling. "What are you writing?" Was it about him? Was he psycho-analyzing him through his silence?

"Code."

"Code?" He raised his eyebrows. "You're a programmer."

"Yes. Sort of. I fix people's computers. I work from home and I also do the hotline from home."

"Short commute," He joked.

Heero chuckled. "Very. And every day is casual Friday."

Duo laughed. "What does casual Friday look like when you work from home? Bathrobe and slippers?"

"Sometimes."

Duo was amused by the thought. He tried to imagine what the man looked like. He envisioned a big, heavy-set man, and hairy probably, an image based on prejudice. Whatever he looked like, he had a nice voice; deep and vibrating, it was soothing. And the pacing of his words was rhythmic and the way the words blended together sounded almost melodious. It didn't matter much to him who he was and what he might look like, he wanted to hear more of that voice, so he agreed to a conversation.

Over the course of several calls – first via the hotline and then later Heero provided him with his home-number – he learned more about Heero Yuy and he even allowed the other to learn things about him, until eventually he realized, one day, that he had told Heero everything, and it didn't scare him. The anonymity of not being seen, of not 'really' knowing each other, made him feel secure enough to reveal things about himself that he had never told anyone. And Heero always knew what to say, or rather, when to say nothing. There was no judgment – not even in the form of well-intended but misguided advise - , only understanding; an understanding of the loneliness and the struggle. For the first time he felt like had actually made a friend, like there was someone out there in the world who knew the ugliest truths about him and still accepted him.

Whenever he talked to Heero, he didn't feel like drinking and this made him feel hopeful that there was a way for him to quit his addiction; a hope that wasn't there before. It was thanks to this spark of hope that he agreed with Milliardo that he should go to rehab. Getting injured during the shoot-out was the perfect excuse to be out of the field long enough to enable a recovery from his addiction.

The facility was nice and the doctors and counsellors did their job well, but the person who kept him from walking out the door during the toughest moments, was the man on the other end of the line; his only friend. A man he had never met. He realized how silly it was that he had no idea what his only friend looked like. There were no secrets between them and yet there was the distance of not knowing what the other looked like. He wanted to see the smile that accompanied that rumbling laughter at their shared, off-beat humor. And, more than anything, he wanted to see Heero's eyes, to see the understanding that he had only ever heard before, through the phone line. On a whim he made a call to the office and he asked Hilde for a favor; to track down Heero's address using his home phone number. She happily located the house for him and without thinking he signed out of rehab for the evening, promising to come back.

The house he ended up standing in front of was small and quaint. The paint on the paneling had faded to a dusty, pale shade of blue. The garden was wild and unkempt. The roots of a tree in front had pushed up some of the stepping stones that made up the path heading to the front porch. In every room of the house the lights were on but thin curtains obstructed a clear view into the home.

He knew it was crazy to show up unannounced like that, but no more crazy than not formally introducing himself to the person who may very well one day be accredited to saving his life from a deadly, all-consuming addiction. He went up to the front door and after a deep breath, he knocked.

It took a moment before the door was answered. With a creak the door was slowly opened and Duo marveled at the sight before him. Dressed in jeans and a loose-fitting sweater was a young and remarkably attractive man. His face was an exotic contradiction of a small, delicate nose, soft lips and big eyes and thick, masculine eyebrows, high cut cheekbones and a sharply defined jawline. The golden glow of his complexion and the upward slant of his eyes suggested an Asian heritage that was belied by the cobalt blue shade of his eyes.

He realized he had been staring, the man regarded him with apparent confusion, and he smiled stupidly. "Heero Yuy?"

One of those dark eyebrows quirked at the sound of his voice but it was evident Heero couldn't place him yet. "Yes?"

It only then dawned on him that Heero couldn't have any idea who he was. He reached out his hand and introduced himself: "I'm Duo Maxwell."

Those eyes widened. "Duo…" He looked him up and down. "I-… What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to meet you. For real. Can I come in?"

Heero wrapped his arms around himself and looked over his shoulder self-consciously. "I wasn't expecting guests."

"It's okay, I don't mind a bit of mess. Or, if you want me to leave…?"

"No, not at all." Heero chewed on his bottom lip momentarily and Duo was distracted by the sight. "I guess it's okay. Don't judge, okay?" He stepped aside and held the door open for Duo, inviting him into his home.

Duo humbly stepped over the threshold and he appraised the surroundings while Heero shut the door behind him. At first glance he didn't understand Heero's embarrassment, the place was spotless and well-organized, but upon closer inspection he noticed the desk with several computers, the rows upon rows of books, movies and CD's, various collections of knickknacks, a treadmill in the study – while the park was only about a block away - and the intensely 'lived-in' feel of the place. The dead give-away was that there was only one barstool at the kitchen counter, one desk chair, one chair at the small dining table and one lounge chair in front of the television set. It was the home of a recluse, someone who spent all his time alone in his private sanctuary and it was Duo witnessing the testament of this lifestyle that caused Heero embarrassment.

"I don't really expect any guests ever," Heero explained sheepishly as he must have watched Duo's gaze bounce around the room.

"You have a nice home," He said and he offered him a warm smile. Even though Duo's apartment looked very different – with more than enough chairs for elaborate dinner parties – his home might as well have looked exactly like that. He was also always alone.

Heero nodded and tried to hide his blush and rolled the desk chair to the petit dinner table. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Yes, thank you." He took a seat at the table and watched the younger man set to work, pouring hot coffee into two mismatched cups.

He put the coffee on the table along with a jar of sugar and apologized for not having any coffee milk but as it turned out they both preferred their coffee black and strong.

The conversation was slow and awkward at first. Heero's appearance didn't match Duo's expectations and he presumed the same was true for Heero and it threw them both off. But then Duo reminded himself to focus on Heero's voice, which sounded familiar but even better in person and talking to him became easy again and his ease and familiarity was reflected in Heero's demeanor.

It was around midnight when Duo caught on that Heero was being flirty with him. It was a shy, understated kind of flirtatious behavior, very different from the overt sexual advances he was used to when meeting men at bars and clubs, which was why he missed it at first. He knew Heero was gay, the man had candidly shared this with him after he himself confessed the nature of his sexuality during one of their extended phone conversations. He had never considered acting on this knowledge, but he never realized how irresistibly attractive the other was.

He waited for Heero to lightly touch his forearm again as he laughed at one of his anecdotes and he responded to it the only way he knew how. Duo fell silent and shot up from his seat suddenly. Heero mirrored him, he stood and stared at him with confused eyes, wondering what he had done wrong. Duo bodily pushed him back against the wall and fused their lips together in a desperate kiss.

The shorter man's shock quickly made way for compliance. He brought his arms up around Duo's shoulders and pushed his hips off the wall and against Duo's when the kiss deepened and intensified.

The abrupt turn of events overwhelmed Heero, which was possibly why he never made any objections, he was not given time to think or second-guess their actions before Duo helped him out of his sweater and let his big hands explore the sensitivity of his nipples and the ticklishness of his sides.

Duo's shirt joined Heero's on the floor and shortly after that both their jeans were pooled around their ankles.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" Duo whispered breathily in his ear. He trusted that the obvious insinuation that Duo wanted to fuck him needn't be spoken out loud. He knew the matter of top versus bottom wouldn't be an issue, their preferences had already been disclosed during one of their hours-long phone calls. Duo still remembered getting hard hearing Heero describe himself, in that vibrating voice of his – with the slightest hint of embarrassment -, as a 'total bottom', even though he still imagined the Japanese man overweight and hairy at that point.

Heero moaned. "Yes… Ah! Nnnn. But I don't have any condoms."

The American growled but accepted that he would have to wait. "Next time, then," He asserted and he freed their matching erections from their underwear and lined them up and started stroking them together.

They soon reached their climax, in near unison, and Duo waited for both their heartrates to slow before he dressed himself.

Heero followed suit.

The agent realized he had made a terrible mistake when he reminded himself that having a relationship was too big of a risk. Having a boyfriend would make it much more likely that others would find out about his homosexuality. An innocent phone call to his desk phone and an inappropriate joke from a co-worker would be enough to fuel rumors and cause the kind of trouble he had painstakingly avoided since he was just a kid growing up in a hostile orphanage.

A panic came over him and he announced that he had to go back to the rehab facility, it was already late. He could see the insecurity written across Heero's face, but he didn't know how to soothe him.

He left and drove straight back to rehab. When the exit came up, he felt his own foot putting more pressure on the gas pedal without his conscious control and he nearly missed the exit that led back to Golden Horizons and keep going for a gas station where they sold his favorite brand of bourbon. He shook his head and took the exit. When his hands moved around on the steering wheel, the sweaty palms left wet marks on the leather.

He could either have a friendly relationship with Heero, or a sexual relationship. A combination of both would be too real, too intimate and too close for comfort. Maybe if he hadn't already been struggling to quit his drinking habit, he would have had the wisdom to recognize Heero was a better influence on his life as a friend and he would have had the self-discipline to act on that wisdom. But the truth was that he had no self-discipline to spare, not as he missed the burn of alcohol in the back of his throat that leveled everything. Since he had gotten a taste of Heero, he wanted more. He wanted it more than he wanted a drink.

So, selfishly, he made the decision that, moving forward from then on, their relationship would become purely physical. Heero made no apparent objection to this autocratic decision and eagerly agreed to start meeting up at the motel, as opposed to either of their homes. The fact that Duo lived in Harrisburg, close to the police station, while Heero lived in Philadelphia, meaning they lived about an hour and forty minutes apart, served as a perfect excuse to choose the motel as a meeting-point halfway. But for Duo it wasn't about a shorter drive. The motel was a way to reestablish a measure of distance between them, the setting naturally prevented matters from becoming too intimate and personal and Heero seemed to recognize and accept the stipulations and limitations of what was being offered to him.

The first time they had sex in the motel room, Duo was rough with him – as he always was, before and after -, it was what they both wanted. Heero took hold of the headboard and between his cries and moans he begged for Duo to fuck him harder and deeper. Duo knew that it had been a while for Heero since he had last engaged in sex, but he didn't say anything about it. They both lost themselves to the sensations and when it was over – far too soon – Duo acknowledged he had a new addiction.

As they met up regularly for sex, Heero's shy demeanor developed into a more confidant attitude. Duo's evident need and desire built-up his self-esteem and self-awareness.

For a while, everything was perfect. The sex was the best he had ever had. Heero was the most beautiful guy he had ever seen and the younger man – by as little as three years - certainly started dressing himself in clothes that enhanced that. Duo never stayed long after getting them both off. That was the point. They would talk only briefly, before or after their physical exertion, and they did share a candy-bar and a Mountain Dew once or twice afterwards. Or a smoke, even though it was obviously Heero wasn't a smoker, he just wanted Duo to stay. But Duo never spent the night, he was adamant about that, because during those short moments of quiet conversation and remembering the long talks they had shared on the phone, Duo knew he could easily fall in love with Heero and that was not something he planned to let happen.

He had to be harsh when Heero first hinted that he wanted more.

The Asian male climbed out of the bed, disentangling himself from the messed-up sheets. Duo still lay in bed, catching his breath. With greedy eyes he watched Heero move. He enjoyed seeing the muscles flex and stretch under that soft, golden skin that glistened with a sheen of sweat.

Heero located his jeans and worked on putting them on. He didn't bother with his underwear, Duo had ruined his briefs when he literally tore them off his body shortly before.

"In a hurry?" Duo teased. Normally Heero was all too happy to lay flush against him and play with Duo's long hair or draw shapes on his chest absentmindedly until it was Duo who decided he had to head home.

"I thought you should know what it feels like being the one walked out on," He shot back with a smirk.

"Hmm… It's no good," Duo commented, following the movement of Heero's nimble fingers as he buttoned up his jeans. When the other man searched the room for his shirt, it was Duo's turn to grin and inconspicuously he pulled the article of clothing that lay beside his pillow underneath the sheets, hiding it from Heero.

"Have you seen my shirt?"

"Not since I took it off you." With a mischievous look in his eyes he crawled to the foot of the bed, where Heero stood, and he put his big hands on the man's slim hips. Duo touched his nose to the smooth, hard planes of his abdomen and let his tongue dart out to taste the drying sweat on his skin.

"What are you doing?" Heero wondered, bemused.

"Round two." Without warning he jerked Heero forward, having him fall onto the bed beside him and he wasted no time climbing on top of him and capturing his mouth in a deep, demanding kiss.

Heero responded favorably, as he always did and he was more than happy to help Duo get him out of those tight jeans again.

Duo effortlessly flipped Heero onto his stomach and had him angle his pelvis so he could push his erection into his warm body again, once he had put another condom onto himself. The passage was still slick and open from their previous go-round and Duo marveled at how he was welcomed inside.

Heero gripped the sheets and moaned into the mattress. "Ohhh, you're so big…"

"I didn't hear you complain before," Duo breathed against his neck and he started thrusting.

"I'm not complaining… Feels good! Ah!"

He fucked him hard, intent on bringing them both to a swift orgasm, until Heero said: "I want to ride you."

He was hardly about to object to that. He pulled out and maneuvered around Heero to lay on his back on the bed. His lover straddled him and reached behind him to guide Duo's erection back inside him. They moaned in unison when Heero rolled his hips. Duo stroked his hands up and down the toned thighs, occasionally reaching out to grant Heero's arousal a couple of pumps of his tight fist. When Heero was taking things too slow for his liking he grabbed him by his ass and started moving his own hips off the mattress. The Japanese man jerked himself off and found his release first, spilling his come on Duo's abdomen, which made Heero smirk. After Duo had climaxed the younger man rolled off him and helpfully rid him of the condom and cleaned off his stomach and chest with a towel that he had placed by the bed.

Once Duo felt confident his legs were strong enough to stand on and he wouldn't simply keel over, he got up on his feet and dressed quickly. He was working on the last few buttons of his shirt when he caught Heero saying softly:

"Please stay."

Trying to brush it off, he joked: "I'm not up for a third round."

"Just spend the night with me. Sleep next to me," Heero said, turning to lay on his side and avoiding eye-contact in the hope that Duo wouldn't catch the vulnerable expression. "We can have round three tomorrow morning."

"This is just about sex, Heero, I don't want anything else," He said bluntly. He tried not to sound mean, but given his harsh words that was pretty much unavoidable. He feared Heero wouldn't let it go, that he would demand more, that he would demand the things Duo wasn't comfortable giving. A heat grabbed at him, it flushed his chest and caused his throat to constrict.

But Heero didn't argue. He accepted the rejection, without ever even glancing up at him. He stared down at the sheets, where his fingers toyed with a fold and he simply said: "Okay."

Although Duo was relieved, he felt like an unbelievable asshole and he also predicted Heero's agreement wasn't as final as the singular word had made it sound. The issue would be brought up again, he feared.

From then on, Heero's dissatisfaction with the arrangement hung in the air, unspoken but felt. It was apparent in the way he pressed himself close to Duo's naked body in the aftermath and the empty look in his eyes whenever Duo got up and left. No matter how hard and often Duo made him come, screaming his name, Heero was never fully satisfied, but they both ignored it for as long as they could stand it.

Many times Duo was tempted to stay, to spend the night in the motel room and hold Heero's warm body close to him and stroke his fingers through his soft, wild hair. But he knew that if he would, he would be lost. He would step into the unknown and he would risk everything for a relationship that he didn't even know would last. He had never had a normal, serious relationship; a calculated decision that had, admittedly, stagnated his emotional and social development, which left him appropriately unsuitable for a relationship – or maybe that was just the excuse he fed himself whenever he got scared that he was missing out.

Yet those nights, after Heero's body had gifted him the most intense pleasure, a part of him yearned to know what it would feel like to wake up with the younger man in his arms and to make love at dawn, unhurried and honest, with nowhere else to be and no secrets to keep. It was a fantasy he allowed to occupy his thoughts for only a few minutes before he would get out of bed each time and leave Heero behind.

Arriving at the motel parking lot one night, Duo glanced down at his watch and cursed at the time. They had agreed to meet at eleven, but it was nearly midnight. He had been out of rehab for about a month but he still had to attend AA meetings regularly and he had been at a meeting which ran long when one of the housewives had a nervous breakdown at the last minute, retelling one of her experiences. It wasn't unusual that Heero would have to wait for him, but that didn't mean Duo didn't feel guilty about it.

On his way to the door of room 102 he fished the key out of his jacket pocket and he fumbled on the first attempt to insert it into the lock. His hands were unsteady with excitement. The Japanese male had that effect on him.

He succeeded in opening the door and he grinned at the sight that greeted him.

Heero lay on his stomach on top of the sheets, his legs bent at the knee, his feet kicked up and playfully swinging back and forth. He had taken off his jeans to get comfortable and had draped them over the foot of the bed, but he had left on his black boxer briefs and white button-up shirt because he knew Duo enjoyed undressing him. Duo had once explained to him that it was like unwrapping a present.

Heero had been killing time, entertaining himself with reading an e-book on his cell phone, and he ignored Duo for a few moments before finally looking up at him with a sparkle of mischief. He knew very well what the sight of him lying on that bed did to his greedy lover. His button-up shirt was hiked up to expose the small of his back and his briefs had ridden up between the ass cheeks, partly baring them for Duo to see.

The condoms and lube already lay within reach, by the pillow.

The American slammed the door shut and made quick work of undoing his tie and stripping out of his jacket and shirt.

Heero watched him move across the room. His feet stilled and he lowered them onto the mattress. His legs were spread ever so slightly, inviting Duo to crawl on top of him.

Duo did exactly that. With his tie still in one hand he climbed over the foot of the bed and on top of Heero, nudging his legs further apart with his knees. His long braid snaked over his shoulder and fell onto Heero's back. Duo rested his weight on him and grinded the growing bulge between his legs against his shapely behind.

Heero groaned and wantonly pushed back against him. When Duo was fully erect the shape of his cock lined up with the crevice of Heero's ass and they both moaned at the friction created by their clothes and the heat that radiated through the fabric.

Impatient as ever, Duo got up on his knees and turned Heero over beneath him. He took gentle hold of Heero's hands and pinned them to the pillow above his head. He draped his black tie across the wrists, not actually tying him up, but wordlessly letting him know that he wanted him to keep his arms up. Heero's eyes darkened and he watched his lover with apparent lust.

The agent let his fingers ghost over the other's stomach and up to his chest, pushing the shirt up with the feather light touch. He lowered his mouth to his chest and licked at a nipple that perked up in the air-conditioned chill of the room.

"Ohhh…" Heero arched his back and threw his head back. He fought to keep his arms and legs still but he couldn't help but squirm as Duo moved his mouth to the other nipple while he kept stimulating it's wetted twin with his fingers. He licked his lips and said: "Tie me up for real."

Duo couldn't help but look up in surprise, yet he was instantly intrigued and aroused by the idea. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," He practically squeaked. "Tie me up and fuck me hard."

Duo growled and hoisted Heero a little further up the bed so his hands reached the headboard. Using the tie he tied Heero's left wrist, looped the loose end through the cut-out shapes of the headboard and then tied his right wrist with the other end.

Heero pulled to test the knot and he bit his lower lip when he discovered he couldn't free himself.

Duo's hands dragged down Heero's arms and he watched goosebumps spread over Heero's skin. He kissed him for the first time that evening. A fire spread through him at the comfort and ease with which Heero submitted to his dominance. He moved his hands to the heaving chest and plucked at both nipples, drinking up the small sounds Heero made in response.

Eager to move it along and get to his present, Duo sat upright between Heero's spread legs and he undid every button of his shirt, maintaining heated eye-contact the entire time. He pushed away the sides of the shirt once the last button was released and then crawled down his body and rid Heero of his underwear. He slowly dragged the briefs down the length of his toned, golden legs, letting the fabric caress his skin.

Heero mewled pathetically at being subjected to such sweet torment. His erection curved back towards his belly button and twitched in response to Duo's ministrations.

"Fuck…" Duo groaned, appraising his lover. "You're so beautiful." He realized how sappy and unintentionally romantic that sounded, so he amended: "You're the hottest thing I've ever laid eyes on."

"I want you to lay more on me that just your eyes," He said. "Touch me."

Duo unzipped his pants and lowered them down to mid-thigh and gave himself a few tugs, then hooked his hands under Heero's knees and pushed his legs up and back. He kissed his way down the inside of his thigh, letting his lips brush across the soft, sensitive skin. When he reached his groin he flicked his tongue along the head of the erection just once and then he looked up at Heero with mischief in his eyes and said: "Beg for it."

Heero didn't hesitate. While shamelessly moving his hips off the mattress, trying to get his arousal closer to Duo's hot mouth again, he begged without inhibition: "Please. Please! Put your mouth on me."

Duo wouldn't have been able to resist anyway. He dragged his tongue up the entire length of the shaft and then took him onto his mouth. With a strong grip on Heero's legs he prevented the man from thrusting his hips up while he sucked him off. When he could tell Heero was close to reaching his climax he let go with a pop.

"You're turn," Duo said. He crawled up the prone body and straddled Heero's chest. With his thumb he spread the bead of pre-come over the crown of his penis and then rubbed the wetted head against one of Heero's pert nipples. When Heero licked his lips, Duo sat up and leaned his pelvis forward, bringing his erection within reach of the other's mouth. Heero pushed his head off the pillow and eagerly wrapped his lips around him and teased him with the pressure of his tongue and the heat and wetness of his mouth. Duo gripped the top of the headboard tightly with one hand, while the other supported the back of Heero's neck.

Not able to wait any longer to claim his ultimate prize, he grabbed the lube and a condom and positioned himself between Heero's wantonly spread legs again. He stared lustfully at Heero with hooded eyes as the other watched him put on the protective latex. Duo stroked himself a couple of times to coat his arousal with plenty of lube.

When he was ready he hoisted Heero's legs over his shoulders and leaned forward until Heero's knees nearly touched his own chest. "Is this what you want?" He pressed the blunt head of his erection against the opening.

"Ah! Yes!"

He locked gazes with him and slowly entered him, letting him enjoy the stretch and the fullness, knowing it was his second favorite part; second only to reaching his climax with Duo inside him, his muscles clenching around his thickness. Before he started in on that primal rhythm he kissed the Asian male lengthily; a shallow, open-mouthed kiss, their tongues barely meeting between hot gasps for air.

He started to pound into him, so forcefully that the movements shook the bed and the top of the headboard swayed enough to bang against the wall with every thrust. He didn't care. Besides, neither of them could stay quiet anyway, he was certain their cries could be heard in the neighboring rooms and outside as well, so they might as well hear the headboard hit the wall. The motel wasn't known for its peace and quiet anyway. Guests didn't really come there to go hiking in French Creek Park, they weren't interested in wildlife, all they cared about was living wild. The motel had a reputation for hosting sex parties and for being a haven for gay men looking for casual, anonymous sex, with drug-use being a big part of the overall experience. These were not the kind of men to mind hearing them have sex. They'd probably enjoy it.

Duo was aware that violent crimes had taken place at the motel in the past. That was just the kind of place it was. Yet he felt safe here because he knew he wouldn't accidentally run into a colleague or anyone familiar. People who weren't part of the more seedy gay lifestyle avoided this place like the plague. Which meant he was free to shamefully fuck Heero, making him scream his name out loud.

He sat upright and after placing a kiss on Heero's calf he let him lower his legs to wrap them around his torso. His brutal pace didn't relent until Heero tightened his legs around his midsection, nearly immobilizing him.

"Kiss me," He breathed.

His lips looked too good to be denied, so Duo dropped down and connected their mouths again. With Heero's strong legs dictating Duo's pace he didn't allow him to do much more than slowly move in and out of him, tightening and relaxing his legs to facilitate this unfamiliar rhythm. It felt good, so Duo played along until it all started to feel a bit too intimate to him. It resembled love-making more than anything he had ever done and he hadn't agreed to that. He released Heero's lips, but not before biting on the lower lip, and sat up on his knees again. With a strong grip he pried Heero's legs off him and he turned him around roughly.

The tie around Heero's wrists twisted and Heero yelped at the fabric digging into his skin, but he made no other objections. He knew he had been caught trying to force something that Duo wouldn't allow and he accepted the roughness as his punishment.

Duo dug his fingers into the wild, chocolate brown hair of his lover and pulled. He whispered in his ear: "Do you want my cock back inside you?"

"Yes." To further express his need Heero pushed his ass off the mattress, against Duo's arousal.

He let go of his hair and used both hands to take hold of Heero's hips and lifted them up, raising his ass up nice and high. He resisted thrusting into him for as long as he could, enjoying his lover's obvious need. He rubbed the blunt head of his erection between the cleft teasingly and nudged it against his perineum and ball sac. Finally, he easily slipped back inside him and the channel clenched and unclenched around him.

Heero cried out to show how much he enjoyed the intrusion.

The American couldn't stay the inevitable any longer. He snapped his pelvis mercilessly, working his length into him at a pace that would ensure neither of them would last for long.

Heero pulled on his bonds, the fabric was starting to tear but he could not or would not free his hands. "Please, Duo, make me come with you!"

Heeding his request he took one hand off the creamy soft hip and with his fist he formed a tunnel around Heero's manhood that he pumped up and down the length in a rhythm that matched his thrusts. When Heero's impending orgasm made him tighten his muscles around Duo's cock, Duo returned the favor and squeezed his lover tighter with his fist.

They both cried out and shouted each other's name. No more than a second after he felt the first wave of semen spill onto his hand, Duo came, snarling a curse word, and he pumped the condom full with his release.

Completely spent he let go of Heero's flesh where his fingers had left the beginnings of bruises and Heero's hips fell down onto the mattress. He carefully peeled the condom off his softening member and after tying a knot in the end he chucked it towards the trash bin in the corner and felt a distant sense of pride when he hit his mark. Duo kicked away his pants and sprawled himself out on the bed, on his back, next to Heero.

The younger man lay with his face buried into the pillow and his back moving up and down sharply with his breaths.

Duo remembered he was still tied up, so he rolled onto his side and after a short while he managed to undo the knot and free Heero's hands, but the other still didn't move. Duo moved to rain kisses on his lower back and his sensitive bottom. He reached out a curious hand and felt the wetness on the inside of Heero's thighs; sweat and excess lube that had dripped out of his hole and was spread over his skin while Duo had been slamming into him.

He wiped his slick hand on the sheets and crawled up alongside Heero's body to lay flush against him. He nuzzled his ear with the tip of his nose. "Are you okay?"

Heero turned his head sideways and peered at his lover. "Yeah. That was intense."

"Hmhmm." Duo chuckled. He stroked a hand through the tousled hair of his partner.

Heero sighed contently and closed his eyes.

Not wanting the moment to be mistaken for something romantic or to lead him on, Duo stopped petting Heero's hair and pointed out: "You're lying in the wet spot. I'll go get you something to clean up with." He rolled off the bed and trotted over to the small bathroom. He opened the sink faucet and used his hands to wash his own groin, not caring about the water that dripped down his legs. Then he folded some toilet paper together and moistened it with water and he walked that back to Heero. Rather than tenderly cleaning him, he offered him the tissue so he could clean himself. He sat up and rubbed away the smear of come on his abdomen first and then wiped the tissue between his legs.

Duo stared for a moment and then announced he was going to take a shower.

Under the hot spray he closed his eyes and let the water clean his skin and soothe his muscles. It had been quite the work-out and it would feel so good to crawl into bed alongside Heero and just let himself drift away to sleep. It would be much more enjoyable than getting dressed and driving back home to his empty apartment and getting into the cold bed that was too big for him alone.

With no shampoo or soap available – there was, technically, a bar of soap provided by the motel, but he didn't trust it – he soon finished and he dried himself off with a towel Heero had brought with him.

The agent walked into the room, still completely naked. He wasn't looking forward to jumping into his clothes, the fabric always felt too coarse after the sex had set all of his nerve endings alight, leaving him hyper sensitive.

Heero was sitting on the bed. He popped open a small bag of chips and took a sip from a can of soda before putting a salty chip in his mouth. His cell phone was on the bed in front of him, with a lot of text displayed on the screen.

"Did you go out to the vending machine looking like that?" He pointedly looked at his lover, dressed in only his boxers and his white shirt – he hadn't bothered with more than one button, at the height of his midriff – and his tousled hair, hooded eyes and swollen bottom lip made it unmistakable to all who would lay eyes on him that he had just been fucked.

"So what? Everyone walks around half naked in this place."

"Exactly, and I don't want them getting any ideas when they look at you." He crawled onto the bed and distracted Heero with a kiss on the corner of his mouth so he could steal a handful of chips.

"Hey!" He pulled the bag into his lap to protect it from Duo's greedy fingers.

Duo laughed and shook his head at him and started to get dressed; first his pants, then his shoes and then his shirt. It wasn't until he was busy buttoning up the shirt that he noticed Heero was sulking.

As soon as Heero caught him looking at him he exchanged his expression for something sultry and he lay down on his back and with a light touch he parted the sides of his shirt, exposing his smooth, golden stomach and two fingers toyed idly with the singular button that held the shirt together and protected the expanse of his chest from Duo's hungry gaze. "Are you sure you want to leave so soon?"

No, Duo admitted only to himself.

"What if any of those other men 'get any ideas'?"

Duo snorted and pretended that the teasing remark didn't make him insanely jealous at the mere thought of anybody else touching Heero. He fumbled with the buttons. His fingers were suddenly far less coordinated.

Heero sat up and moved to the edge of the bed. He stalked over towards Duo and grabbed his wrists, stopping him from further buttoning up his shirt. He placed a kiss on the exposed hollow of his collar bone and then undid the button underneath. "Just spend the night with me. One night, just talk to me, we never talk anymore. I won't ask for more." His lips brushed against Duo's skin as he spoke.

Duo pursed his lips. He grabbed Heero's shoulders and made the man take a step back. "You're already asking for too much."

Heero pushed his hands off his shoulders. "Why do you get to decide what is enough and what is too much?!" He demanded and he fixed wild eyes on Duo's face. "What about what I want?"

"Don't pretend I didn't give you exactly what you wanted," Duo spat. "You enjoyed getting fucked. You wanted it hard."

"Of course I like it when you fuck me! I love it! But it's not enough for me!" He smacked Duo's hands down when the agent tried again to button up his shirt and was ignoring him. "Listen to me!"

Duo pushed Heero away. Everything was starting to get too close, crowding him, and he felt cornered and scared. "What the fuck, Heero?! I thought we were having fun! Why would you want anything different? What changed?"

"Nothing changed!" Heero shouted in reply. "I've been in love with you before you even showed up at my door!"

Duo stared at him. His heart contracted painfully but he paid it no heed and questioned Heero's vulnerable admission to protect himself from his own feelings. "Oh, come on! You were perfectly fine with just letting me fuck you."

"I had sex with you because I thought it could evolve into something. I wanted it to become more!" He covered his mouth with his hand to shield the tremble in his lower lip from Duo's harsh gaze, but the pain in his eyes was apparent. When he had regained some of his composure he dropped his hand and said: "I thought you could love me too."

Selfishly Duo was angry at the other for saying these things, for expecting things from him that he told him he couldn't give him. "I told you it was just about the sex!"

"But what about all those nights we talked on the phone? Did you forget about that?"

"That was different! I was talking to you as a friend. It was never about becoming involved; about falling in love; about getting a boyfriend," He spat. "I thought you were some ugly, fat guy. When I saw you were hot, I had to pick between staying your phone-friend or fucking you. You didn't object to the call I made."

"But why was that your decision?!" Heero challenged. "And why didn't you tell from the start that those were the only options?!"

"Oh, as if you would have made a different decision. You were all too eager to let me push you up against the wall and jerk you off."

"I don't know what I would have decided!" The first tear trailed down his cheek. "All I know is that I miss my friend!"

Duo blinked at him. Too caught up in the heat of the moment to be rational, he tried to settle the argument and offered angrily: "Fine, then we'll go back to being friends."

"I can't go back!" He wiped away his tears and was clearly disgusted at his own emotional state. He accused: "This is all your fault! I was fine before you showed up in my life! I didn't need anybody! I could sleep alone in my bed and not miss anybody!"

"I told you it was just about the sex!" Duo repeated petulantly. "I don't want a relationship! I don't want the responsibility and I don't want the risk! I told you I have to keep my sexuality a secret. I'm not going to risk my career for something that is doomed to fail!"

Heero glared at him. "You're a fucking coward! And don't pretend that you didn't know you were stringing me along. If it was just about the sex I could have let anybody fuck me."

"You knew exactly what I was offering and you loved every inch of it, you fucking whore!" Duo shouted, losing himself to his blind, indiscriminate anger. He chose his words purposefully for maximum damage. He wanted to hurt Heero the way Heero was hurting him.

Heero balled his hand into a fist and punched him across the jaw hard enough that Duo staggered back and hit his back against the wall. "Fine, I loved it. You got me! The joke is on me! But if sex is all you have to offer I might as well spare myself the forty-five minute drive to this disgusting place and find some other guy with a big dick to fuck me. And maybe he will end up loving me!"

The thought of anyone else having sex with Heero; pushing their cock into that tight, hot opening that he had claimed as his, fueled his fury to an unmanageable intensity and he felt his self-control snap in a way he hadn't experienced since his last drunken outburst. Overwhelmed with rage he warned: "Don't you dare. I'll kill you! I swear, I'll fucking kill you!"

"You can't tell me what to do," Heero hissed. "You're not my boyfriend."

Duo knew he had to leave or else he would end up hitting Heero and although the shorter man packed quite a punch, it wouldn't be fair and it wouldn't be right. Duo was much bigger and stronger and a trained fighter. He didn't want to hurt him.

Heero's gaze hardened. The depth of his blue eyes that previously beckoned Duo into a beautiful drowning, then stretched between them and Heero seemed far away, oceans away, even with less than two feet between them.

Without another word Duo grabbed his jacket and he stormed out of the room, taking some satisfaction in slamming the door shut as hard as he could.

He stalked back to his car and again took out his frustration on the door; also slamming it shut with more force than necessary. He patted himself down for his keys and then sped off and drove onto the highway, heading home. Luckily the road was pretty quiet at the late hour – or early, technically – because he was driving recklessly, not able to calm himself.

His hands were shaking and he felt a cold sweat all over his body, like he was going through withdrawal all over again. After only a few minutes he was shaking so violently that he couldn't even switch gears. He realized that even if he could avoid crashing into another car in the light traffic, he could very well end up wrapping his Jeep around a tree. When he spotted a sign indicating an upcoming gas station he steered the car into the rightmost lane and took the exit. He parked the Jeep out of the way, behind the store, to avoid being seen should anyone else happen to come by.

Duo had to pry his hands off the steering wheel. He was gripping it so tightly, to help with the shaking, that his knuckles were white and his fingers hurt.

He thought about going back and apologizing for the things he had said and for upsetting Heero. The memory of his heartbroken expression would haunt him, he was sure of it. But he also knew that there was no point in going back. The only way to make things right and to keep Heero from looking at him like that, with those eyes full of anguish, would be to agree to a relationship. That was the only thing that would make the other man happy and as tempting as that was, he wasn't ready to be someone's boyfriend. With him not being able to give Heero what he wanted, why would he go back? They would only argue more and hurt each other more.

He lifted the armrest between him and the passenger seat and retrieved his pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the hidden compartment. He shook one of the cigarettes out of the pack and put it between his lips and lit it. He took quick, uncontrolled, panicked drags from the cigarettes, making him cough a couple of times. The cigarette didn't last long with him constantly pulling on it, so he quickly lit a second one.

He had made it through a childhood of delinquency and a stressful career without every lighting a cigarette, until recently. He had started smoking around the same time as he had started drinking. It just seemed like the thing one did; have a drink and have a smoke. His favorite bar, where he had some of his best, numbing drinking experiences always smelled like cigarette-smoke which is how he got hooked. He knew he should quit, but he figured quitting his drinking habit had priority and he could only handle tackling one addiction at a time. Until he felt confident his yearning for alcohol was fully out of his system he calmed his nerves with nicotine.

The problem, of course, was that before he went into rehab he only had a smoke alongside a nice glass of bourbon – and another, and another, and another -, so although the inhalation of the smoke did soothe his anxiety, the taste and smell also made him crave a drink. At the rehab center they had agreed that quitting his smoking habit could wait and to deal with his need for an accompanying drink they suggested 'habit-substitution'. They replaced the habit of drinking alcohol with his cigarette, with drinking water.

And goddammit, those counsellors earned their paycheck, because nowadays he couldn't fully enjoy a smoke without a glass of water. The nicotine was still relaxing, but it didn't feel right not holding something to sip from in his other hand.

Still he didn't trust he could keep his composure enough to be able to head into the store and purchase a bottle of water. He was upset and couldn't stop thinking about Heero and their horrible fight. He regretted saying the nasty things that he did, he didn't want to stop meeting up with Heero, being with him had kept him sane and in that sense it had always been about more than 'just sex'. Having something to look forward to grounded him; it anchored him and saved him from being dragged along by the daily grind of his life. Sex with Heero was the only thing that could make him happy, as of late. He didn't understand how that worked exactly, but it did. He didn't want to lose him. Those hands through his hair, those lips against his, those understanding eyes that could absolve him of all wrongs.

Yet he couldn't shake his petty anger. He blamed Heero for pushing him into a corner and for exploiting his possessive streak, leaving him enraged like that at the thought of other men touching Heero's body. The remark – the threat, rather – to let other men have sex with him, reduced him to something primal. He didn't mean what he had said, he couldn't have killed Heero, but he had no doubt that if Heero followed up on that threat and he happened to witness it, he was fully capable of killing whatever man Heero would choose to replace him with. That measure of jealousy scared him. He had never been the type to share, but such extremes were novel, even to him.

The agent took his phone out of his pocket and typed impulsively:

'I hate what you've made me do. What you've turned me into.'

He sent the message and waited, but there was no reply. He thought about apologizing but disregarded it. He was too proud to admit he had been wrong. He threw the phone into the passenger seat and lit another cigarette.

He wiped at his eyes, at the trails of tears that had fallen without his knowledge, when he spotted the headlights of a car in the rear-view-mirror. He felt uncomfortable showing weakness in a relatively public place, even though the car moved along and turned the corner towards the gas pumps, not paying him any attention of course. Whenever he was upset, he always felt like any given stranger could see him and would judge him for not being manly enough. Which was why he always hid his true feelings behind a crass pun. Of all the guys on the force, Duo probably mocked gay people the most, because he was so afraid they would see the truth otherwise.

He wished he could give Heero what he needed, because Duo knew he also needed it himself, but it wouldn't be the first time his cowardice got in the way. His fear had caused him to let so many good things wither, that he was left to wonder if any good still remained.

His life was such a mess; such a lie.

It took a while but when his hands finally stopped shaking and the reflection of his eyes in the rear-view-mirror didn't unsettle him anymore, he got out of his car and headed into the store. His mouth went parch-dry when he accidentally passed through the aisle of alcoholic drinks on his way to get a bottle of water. He stopped halfway down the aisle and stared at one of the enticing bottles of burnt golden liquid.

"Oh, fuck this." He pivoted on his heels and continued on his way to the refrigerated section. He took a bottle of water and while he stood at the cash register he decided to buy another pack of cigarettes as well.

Back in his car he lit a fresh cigarette and drank his water while he smoked.

When he was done he felt ready to hit the road again and he drove home. But no amount of cigarettes could calm him down enough to be able to sleep that night. He felt high-strung and wound-up. He had to distract himself or else he would just end up thinking about Heero and regretting every word that he had said to him that night. He did what he always did when he couldn't sleep: he cleaned his Jeep, inside and out. His black Jeep was his pride and joy and he had always taken good care of it, but lately especially he made sure the body was polished and the chrome rims gleamed and he vacuumed every hair and dust bunny out of the seats and carpets. It had become an obsession to him, in the absence of any real hobbies.

Once done he went upstairs for a proper shower and nursed two cups of coffee and then he decided to head to the station. He didn't know what else to do. At least at work he could read through the case file of his last undercover job – again – to prepare himself for his testimony in court in a few weeks' time.

There was only a short line of overachieving agents at the security check when he arrived. It was too early in the morning for most to head to work. He took his gun out of the holster on his belt and placed it in the plastic tray along with his watch and cellphone and as he waited to be waved over to step through the metal detector, someone tapped on his shoulder.

Duo turned around and offered Hilde a smile. "Good morning, Sunshine," He greeted her in his usual, chipper fashion.

"Good morning," She replied in kind but then she narrowed her eyes at him and put a finger on her jawline when she said: "Where did you get that bruise?"

Duo felt his face go hot. He hadn't realized Heero's punch had left a visible mark. After a quick search for an excuse he supplied: "It's way too early for me. I was standing over the can, taking a piss and still sleep-drunk I just toppled forward and knocked my chin against the wall."

"Oh." She grimaced as she sympathized with his pain, but an amused smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Yeah, sure, laugh at the misfortune of those who pee standing up."

She chuckled freely. "Anyway, nice five o'clock shadow," She teased, "Although I always thought they meant pm, not am."

Confident his lie had been accepted he smiled at her joke and went through the metal detectors and was cleared to go upstairs. After getting his watch, phone and gun from the tray he waved her goodbye.

The first thing he did once he got up to his floor was go to the men's restrooms to check his reflection. The bruise was a faint purple. Since he had neglected to shave since yesterday morning his stubble hid the discoloration reasonably well, but in a building full of cops it was bound to be noticed and get some attention. The only one he worried about was his boss, Milliardo. He would suspect it would have something to do with his drinking behavior of the past; when he used to get involved in drunken bar-brawls.

He went to his desk and opened up the file on his undercover case. He wanted to make sure he knew it backwards, the conviction depended on his testimony. It would be a good way to prove to Milliardo that he was back on his feet. Show him he was the same, reliable guy he was before. He had given Milliardo reason to that doubt that and he hated himself for it, but the man really needed to get off his back and stop scrutinizing his every move.

Unfortunately the letters blended together on the paper and his thoughts wandered elsewhere. He checked his cellphone but Heero still hadn't responded to his text. He started to type an apology, but then deleted every word and put his phone in his pocket. He stared out the window, trying to decide if he was more angry at himself or Heero. He had no right to be angry with Heero, he realized that, but that didn't mean he wasn't. Emotions were, by nature, not susceptible to logic.

He turned in his chair when someone knocked on the corner of his desk. His eyes slowly focused on his boss, Milliardo Peacecraft, and he thought to smile when he saw the first hint of that familiar frown on the handsome man's face. "Zechs! I should have known you would be at the office at fuck'o'clock."

"Don't call me Zechs," He corrected.

Duo shook his head. The man had really grown to hate his old undercover alias, which was exactly why he enjoyed pestering him with it.

"We've picked up a case."

"Cool." Duo got up from his chair and worked his arms into the sleeves of his jacket. "Let's go."

"Are you really up for this?"

He paused with his jacket halfway on. He knew the agent meant well, all Milliardo had ever done was look out for him, but it started to get on his nerves being second-guessed every step of the way. Without trying to boost his own ego, he was one of the best and Milliardo had always acknowledged that, but nowadays Duo wondered if he could ever stop seeing him as the drunk asshole who nearly cost them both their careers. Trying to be patient, the way Mill had been patient with him, he assured him: "Of course…" But he couldn't refrain himself from reminding his boss: "You promised you would get off my back once I got back on duty."

"And you promised you would tell me if something was up."

Quickly becoming increasingly agitated with the lack of trust, he whispered in response: "And I'm keeping that promise. There's nothing to tell."

"So there's no story behind that bruise? Or the fact that you come in at five in the morning and you're trying to hide that bruise with that hideous stubble?"

Duo groaned. "I'm not trying to hide anything! I had a stumble in the bathroom and forgot to shave. As you pointed out yourself, I'm not used to getting in at such an early hour." He watched his reaction closely and hoped the lie was as effective with him as it had been with Hilde.

"Alright."

Milliardo seemed unconvinced, but there was nothing he could say to change his mind. "Zechs, seriously. I'm cool."

"Fine… Don't call me Zechs."

The two of them went down to the parking garage and Duo got into the passenger seat, knowing Mill always insisted on driving ever since Duo's drinking problem had made itself apparent. He hardly had the right to blame Mill for distrusting him.

The drive was quiet and normally this would irritate would Duo, but his thoughts were scattered – he still couldn't get his fight with Heero out of his head – so he welcomed the moment of peace before he would have to focus all his attention on this new case. He didn't have the kind of job that allowed him to slack off for a day once in a while, when he wasn't feeling up for it, and he had already been more of a headache than a help to the team when his drinking reached its peak. He was committed to being the agent he used to be; the agent who could really immerse himself in a case and come up with the unexpected solutions.

"Did you go to the meeting last night?" Milliardo interrupted the silence.

Duo shot him a look. "Yes, I went to the meeting, mom. As I go to all my meetings."

"Dial down the snarky attitude. I stuck my neck out for you."

"Don't worry. Your neck is fine." He looked back out the window. The scenery was familiar. He had gone down that highway many times on the way to the motel to meet with Heero. "Where are we headed, Philly?"

Mill didn't even answer his question. Instead, he kept bugging him. "I'm not trying to get on your case or give you grief. I'm just looking out for you. It's my responsibility."

"It's not."

"It is, Duo," He snapped. "You became my responsibility when I made the call not to report your issues to IA."

"I'm alright, Mill, you made the right call. I'm grateful for what you did, I won't let you down. I'm better now." He looked at him with an earnest expression. He meant what he said. He didn't want to disappoint Milliardo, but he felt that if Mill kept looking at him through a magnifying glass, he would never live up to the promises he had made him and the expectations that Mill cherished.

Milliardo nodded and said nothing. He stared up ahead, but didn't seem to be minding the surrounding traffic much.

Duo snapped his fingers in front of his face, to get him out of his own head. "Mill."

Milliardo glanced at him.

"I'm okay," He repeated.

"I trust you."

Duo's heart clenched, but he remained casual. "Good. Anything I should know before we get to the crime scene?"

"Too late. We're already here."

Duo frowned and looked out the windows. They were nowhere near Philadelphia yet. His heart rate quickened when Milliardo took an all-too-familiar exit and a cold sweat came over him when they took a left turn and ended up on the parking lot of the Sunburst French Creek motel; the motel where he had been with Heero only the night before. Even though there had been previous, unrelated, violent crimes at the motel and it was likely this was just another case that didn't concern him, a sickening thought popped up in his head. A thought that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and made his skin crawl. He wetted his dry lips with his tongue and tried to swallow, but he couldn't work his throat.

"This is the place?" He asked dumbly. The yellow tape in front of them, not to mention the gathered police cars and reporters, made it obvious this was 'the place'.

"Yeah. You remember those other cases, don't you?"

He did, but he couldn't shake the feeling that this case would be different. That this case would be personal. When Mill climbed out of the car, he followed his lead. His movements were stiff, but he managed to hide his shock. Absent-mindedly, he recounted the past crimes that had occurred at the motel: two gay bashings and a robbery at gunpoint of a guest who was dealing meth out of his motel room. "The media was all over it," He mentioned. Everyone knew about those cases. He scanned the parking lot and noticed Heero's blue sedan was still parked where he had last seen it, last night. His heart sank.

"And they will have a field-day with this one as well. If we don't solve it, it will be the fourth unsolved crime at this motel and we'll be the 'homophobic' assholes who didn't care enough to catch the killer."

They went underneath the police tape and while Milliardo talked to the detective on site, all Duo could do was stare at the open door. The faded lettering read '102'. It was their room. It was the room he had left Heero alone in last night. What had happened after he left? He noticed the coroner's van parked to the side and his stomach tightened into a coil as he watched them roll out a black body bag onto a gurney in preparation. He nearly doubled over with pain and nausea, but he managed to remain looking professional. If he told Mill he had been in that room just last night and he knew the guest that stayed there, he would be sent home immediately. He couldn't let that happen, he needed to see what was in that room. He had to see it with his own eyes.

A sergeant appeared and he shook their hands before leading them into the room, saying something about a John Doe.

"Motel front desk doesn't have an ID on him?"

"Room is paid for in cash, for an extended stay. The room has been rented by the same guy for the past couple of weeks."

Duo paid no attention to the exchange between his boss and the sergeant. Walking into that room, knowing it was a crime scene, was one of the hardest things he ever had to do. He idled by the door, stalling, afraid of what he would see if he followed the sergeant's lead and would look into the bathroom.

Quietly and imperceptibly he took a deep breath and then he walked to the doorway leading to the bathroom for a quick peek. Relief washed over him when it was instantly apparent that the man on the floor was not Heero. The man was much taller and broader and had black hair. His face was unrecognizable after violently impacting with the edge of the sink and yet there was still something familiar about it, but he couldn't place it. To prevent Milliardo from noticing his emotional state he stepped away and kept his back turned until he felt in control of himself.

"Too bad," The sergeant said. "We had a bet going. I was sure it was just a sad."

"Aren't all deaths sad, sergeant Mueller?"

"No, not 'sad'. A SAD. S-A-D."

Milliardo looked to Duo with confusion written on his face. "What's that? S-A-D?"

"Slip-and-die," Duo replied dryly. He ignored the back-and-forth between them, even as Milliardo clearly became irritated with the sergeant's casual approach and lack of respect.

His eyes scanned the room which bore evidence of a struggle and a pretty intense one. Heero's overnight bag was on the desk, his change of clothes still tucked inside, it proved that he had stayed behind after Duo had left and had been part of the fight that had occurred which caused John Doe's unfortunate demise in the bathroom. With the inside information that he had, he quickly narrowed down the options of what could have happened until one scenario remained plausible. Two or more men had come into the room and had taken Heero. The Japanese man had defended himself, he was deceptively strong, and the fact that people always underestimated him must have given him an advantage in the fight. After the initial struggle he had tried to escape to the bathroom, but one of them followed him in there before he could lock the door. In the cramped space he had gotten the better of one of his attackers and had slammed his face into the sink, killing him. Obviously, there had been more attackers, otherwise Heero wouldn't be missing. He had been kidnapped.

Or at least, he hoped he had been kidnapped. The other option was that they killed him and disposed of his body, but he chose to believe differently. He chose to have faith.

When the sergeant had been sent out of the room by an angry Milliardo, Duo commented: "Was it really necessary to make him nearly piss his pants?" It was important that he kept up the game of pretense. If he made it known that he had a personal relationship with one of the victims their team would get taken off the case and that meant more delays in the case, more information lost in translation and then a lesser team would be tasked with the responsibility of finding Heero in time, with the odds already stacked up against them. He wanted the best to be out looking for Heero and he knew their team was the best.

Obviously, Milliardo would find out sooner or later, but by then they may have already found Heero, or unearthed a good lead at least.

They put on their gloves and went to work, asking the Forensics team to give them a moment. Milliardo quickly discovered the used condom – used by him – and drew the correct conclusion. "Someone was definitely in this room with him."

Duo used the opportunity to give his insight, hopefully without betraying the entire truth. "Yeah, because John Doe is not the guest who rented this room." At Mill's expected, questioning look Duo took Heero's shirt out of the bag and held it up for him to see. The shirt was clearly too small to fit the John Doe in the bathroom and Milliardo agreed.

"So the guest has a visitor, has sex with him and then… what? A lover's quarrel turned ugly? He kills him and flees?"

"But leaves his stuff and a dead body in the bathroom of his own room?" Duo challenged. He had to steer the investigation in the right direction, so they could find Heero as quickly as possible.

"Doesn't make sense…" Milliardo agreed. "But there's no phone, so he must've taken that with him at least. If we can get an ID we might be able to track the cellphone number."

Duo knew that they would soon enough figure out Heero's identity thanks to his car still being in the parking lot, so he refrained himself from shouting out his name.

Barton and Chang arrived on the scene and Milliardo went outside to get them up to speed and give them orders. He tasked Duo with overseeing the Forensics crew. Normally, he would have objected to baby-sitting the techs, but any excuse to not have to be around his boss and under his careful watch was good enough for him.

Duo observed the techs retrieve the condom from the trash and lift fingerprints off the nightstand, desk and doors. He knew some of those prints would match his, but with a bit of luck it took the Forensics department long enough to make their way through all the prints. He wasn't worried about the condom or the hairs pulled from the bed. His DNA was not on file, unlike his finger prints. Not until he would be asked to give a sample would they be able to prove the condom and the brown hairs were his.

He flinched when WuFei appeared behind him – the man always snuck up to him, he walked quietly like a predator stalking its prey. He was pleased to find out they had indeed managed to identify the missing person as Heero, but his face felt hot when the other agent announced it was their job to search the house. He had only been at Heero's home that one time, he had purposefully avoided it since then and it scared him a little to have to go back there, he worried he might break down and become an emotional mess.

On their way to the house in Philadelphia – he let WuFei drive – he stared out the window and luckily WuFei was never one for chitchat.

He hated himself for leaving him behind. If only he had staid the night, like Heero had asked him to. They had to find Heero, safe and sound, he thought to himself, he had to do what he had failed to do last night: save him.

The car stopped in front of the house and Duo stared at it for a moment before following Chang up to the front door.

WuFei knocked on the door, considering the possibility that Heero had a roommate or live-in partner.

Duo waited a few seconds before declaring no-one was home and he didn't waste any time picking the lock with the kit he carried with him at all times. WuFei stood off to the side, with his arms crossed in front of his chest. He didn't approve of Duo's lock-picking, but he knew they had to have a look inside, that was why Mill had sent them there and he was all about following orders. As long as he didn't have to break any rules himself, he wouldn't nag too much about honor or justice.

Technically, they weren't allowed to enter the house before going through all the proper legal channels, but time was of the essence. The proper paperwork was a formality that they would deal with after the fact, as they always did when they suspected a kidnapping. People they had saved had only ever been too thankful to file a complaint about them snooping in their homes without permission. Until everything was cleared with the home-owners, they might get a scolding from the higher-ups, but Mill would always protect them from the brunt of it.

The door opened and they headed inside.

The American paused in the hallway, remembering the last time he had stood in that exact spot.

He looked around, into the kitchen on the left, the study straight ahead and the living room with sitting area and dining table to the right. He noted a significant change. The singular lounge chair in front of the TV had been replaced with a big, comfortable couch and there were two new chairs at the dinner table and two barstools in the kitchen.

With a heavy heart he recognized Heero had made room for him in his home, in his life, always expecting Duo to come back there one day; to have a romantic dinner with him, snuggling together on the couch for a movie and having breakfast in the kitchen in the morning.

Heero's words from the night before hit home. 'I was fine before you showed up in my life! I didn't need anybody! I could sleep alone in my bed and not miss anybody!'

Heero had wanted more out of their relationship and, daring to hope, he had purchased new furniture so Duo could come home with him. But Duo had never come back there, leaving Heero to sit by himself on that big couch and stare at an empty chair every morning at breakfast and every evening at dinner. Before Duo had showed up on his doorstep, there had never been an empty place in his house, but now there was and it must have been a sore reminder of what Duo wouldn't give him.

WuFei briefly inspected the bank of computer screens at Heero's desk and then declared there was nothing to see downstairs, so they headed to the second level.

Upstairs a narrow hallway connected the staircase to the master bedroom, a tiny spare bedroom and a bathroom. They went into the master bedroom, where Duo had never even been. The room was spacious and double doors opened up to a large balcony, but there was no furniture outside so it didn't seem like Heero ever went out there. The color scheme was dark, making the room more cozy and warm. What stood out amidst the shades of eggplant and grey and accents of black, was a single white pillow on the bed. Duo guessed it was a pillowcase Heero had stolen from the motel and it probably smelled like him at some point.

The words rang in his head mercilessly: 'I could sleep alone in my bed and not miss anybody!'

He clenched his fists on either side of him. He hadn't been fair to Heero and it scared him that he might never get to apologize and make amends for his selfish actions.

What if he was already dead and one of the last things the person he loved said to him was 'You fucking whore'?

WuFei opened the drawer of one of the bedside tables and he snorted. Cynically, he remarked: "Well, he's definitely a fag." He used one of his latex gloves to retrieve something from the private drawer and held it up for Duo to see; a vibrator. "And there are more like it."

"Fuck, WuFei!" He snapped. "Put that back. Show some respect!" His body trembled with anger.

WuFei eyed him suspiciously. The one thing they used to have in common was making fun of queers. WuFei was one of those straight-laced, traditional types who still believed homosexuality was a lifestyle, a choice, and the wrong one at that. Duo always joined him in mockery to protect his own sexual identity, but he couldn't stand the Chinese agent judging Heero.

"Okay." He put the vibrator away and shut the drawer. He slammed it hard enough to make Duo jump.

The long haired agent turned his back towards his partner. He knew his unusual behavior would make WuFei suspicious. He busied himself looking through the dresser. As a detective he had gone through many underwear drawers over the span of his career, it was always a favorite hiding-place, but he had never rummaged through underwear that he actually recognized. He remembered stripping some of those boxer briefs off Heero, sometimes pushing them down only far enough to expose his opening so he could fuck him while the elastic fabric kept his thighs together.

Heero wasn't a whore, but still Duo had treated him like a human sex-toy. He had no right to reduce him to a piece of meat, to cheapen Heero's pure affections.

During any other investigation he would have left the underwear drawer completely ransacked, but – as if that could make things right – he took the time to neatly rearrange the briefs.

"There's nothing here," WuFei concluded.

Duo agreed. Nothing in the house was motive for kidnapping; no money, no drugs. Heero didn't have any rich relatives the kidnappers could call for ransom and he didn't have any connections, through his job or otherwise. Heero was a nobody, as they would normally say. Whatever had been done to him, it was personal. Usually a disgruntled ex-lover was involved, but Duo knew Heero well enough to know that he had only few relationships worth mentioning, from a long time ago, and they didn't end badly.

"Maybe it was all random," WuFei mused aloud as they headed downstairs. "That motel was swarming with gay guys looking to satisfy their sexual needs. It could be that someone just took him for sex."

Duo shuddered. The thought had crossed his mind. What other explanation remained?

They were headed back to the car when Duo's phone rang. Milliardo's name blinked on his screen and Duo was irritated at the thought that he might be calling to check up on him. "Maxwell."

"Hey." There was a long pause before Mill continued: "How's it going?"

Duo frowned at the oddly vague question. "Uhm… Good." At WuFei's curious look he shrugged his shoulders. "We're done at the house. There's nothing here that looks like it has to do with anything."

"So, nothing to report at Yuy's house?" Milliardo pressed.

It wasn't like Milliardo to micro-manage. If he said there was nothing, there was nothing! "Just a regular place. Clean and organized, but not in an alarming, serial-killer-kind-of-way." He forced the joke to convince everyone that he was fine.

The boss was hardly amused. He barked: "Meet me at the station. Now."

Duo pocketed his phone and sat back while WuFei drove them back to the station.

When they arrived they went up to Milliardo's office for their assignments. WuFei was quickly delegated to desk-duty and the Chinese man left, mumbling something under his breath. Duo idled in the doorway, waiting for instructions. When the blond agent remained silent and he noted how tense he was, he asked: "What's gotten into you?"

Milliardo looked at him sharply. His eyes were pleading. "Please be honest with me."

Duo's heart skipped a beat and his palms went sweaty. Surely he hadn't been found out so soon? "About what?" He tried to brush it off. "I told you I'm fine. Jeez, you come into work early one day-"

The other agent interrupted him. "Hiroshi Yuy."

Duo knew his boss was fishing, he didn't have the whole story. He kept his emotions in check. "What about him?"

Milliardo wasn't completely fooled by his innocent tone. "Please admit that you know him."

He forced a laugh and tried to throw him off. "Well, I just went through his underwear drawer but that hardly means I know the guy. Certainly not more than WuFei, you should ask him what he found in the nightstand…"

Milliardo looked off to the side, disappointed and unsettled. "Why are you lying?" He demanded.

"I'm not lying!" Duo argued in vain.

"Stop it! Just stop it!"

Duo's blood went cold when Mill showed him Heero's phone inside an evidence bag. What did it mean that they had found the phone? Did they find Heero? Was he…?

"We found his cellphone in the bushes, Duo. You guys have been exchanging text messages. Clearly, you know him."

He knew he couldn't deny it. "It's not a big deal-"

"Why didn't you tell me? Why did you lie?"

"Because I knew the team would get taken off the case. You and I both know what happens to cases when they get shuttled from one department to another, from team to team. Every time a case changes hands, the odds of it going unsolved doubles." His answer was completely honest.

"That's hardly an exact science."

"Call it a ballpark-figure. The exact numbers don't matter. What matters is that we are the best. So I had a choice, tell you I know the guy – barely, by the way – and have us booted off the case, or keep it a secret. It was a choice between giving the best odds and the worst odds, what was I supposed to do?"

"How do you know Hiroshi Yuy?"

Duo knew he had to lie if he wanted the team to stay on the case. He had to make Mill believe that his relationship with Heero was as platonic as possible. "For starters I know him as 'Heero Yuy'," He started and that was not untrue, "And we met in rehab. As of late, we've been going to same AA sessions and meeting up once in a while. That's what we text about." He could tell Milliardo had trouble trusting him and he hated that he had to lie to the other man, after everything Mill had done for him.

"What about that last text?"

"What last text?" The American quipped and a terrifying cold sunk into his bones when Milliardo repeated the words of the angry text message he had sent Heero. "That's private," He tried to deflect.

"Nothing is private in a murder investigation, Duo."

He was forced to make up a bullshit story to explain away the message and he swore to Mill – lying through his teeth – that he had never been to the motel.

Finally, Milliardo seemed more at ease. "I choose to trust you," He said, making Duo feel like even more of an asshole. "Don't make me a fool."

He was dismissed and he headed down to the bullpen where WuFei and Trowa were working the case. Rather than telling either of them he had been instructed to split the work load with them, he said nothing and took a seat at his desk. He opened the case file and forced him to study the gruesome photo of John Doe's smashed-in face. His cheekbones, nose and upper jaw were completely destroyed. All that remained was his short, Neanderthal-forehead, thick, protruding brows, small eyes that were too close together and his big, masculine chin. He stared at the features and he knew he had seen the man before, but it was impossible to recognize him with half of his face pulverized. Odds were he had seen him on the parking lot of the motel once or twice, but alarm bells went off in his head regardless.

He was certain Heero had not been taken for money or personal revenge and if rape was the objective like WuFei had suggested, whoever was responsible could have just kept him locked-up in the motel room and had his way with the Japanese male right there. It wasn't the kind of place where people would rush to someone's aid if they hears screams or a fight.

Duo couldn't shake the feeling that somehow Heero's disappearance had something to do with him. Duo didn't have any money, much like Heero, and he didn't have any angry exes because he never had a serious relationship. But there were plenty of people out there who resented him: dangerous criminals who's business he had thwarted and who's friends he had incarcerated, or killed during a shoot-out. Those were exactly the kind of people who would be hungry for revenge and violent and stupid enough to carry it out. Either they had been after him and missed him by half an hour, or they had waited for him to leave and had kidnapped Heero on purpose to punish him.

He scoured through the database of mugshots. He suspected he might have met John Doe in the line of duty and he hoped he would be able to ID him by going through the mugshots of everyone involved in his more recent cases. He clicked from photo to photo and so far hadn't been able to match one with the picture of the disfigured Doe.

The problem was that it could just as easily be an old case coming back to haunt him. It could be a criminal arrested as many as ten years ago, seeking revenge after just now being released from prison. This included people he had dealt with during his time in the undercover unit, John Doe could be any random crook he had met during those grueling years. This meant the pool of possibilities was a lot bigger, but he had no way to look up the information on recent releases, or all associates of every gang he had ever dealt with without involving Administration.

Trowa's hand landed on his shoulder. "What are you working on?"

"Oh, just…" He gestured vaguely at his computer screen. When he caught a glimpse of the time he felt embarrassed. He had been scrolling through the images for over an hour and it had been a total waste of time.

"The boss wants to talk to you."

"Oh… Okay." An ominous feeling settled over him. "Is he in his office?"

Barton looked apologetic. "Interrogation room 2."

"He has a suspect?" Duo inquired hopefully.

"Yeah. You."

His face blanched. The game of pretend was over. He slowly got up from his seat and was about to walk away but the other agent wouldn't let him by.

"Take your gun out of the holster and leave it in your desk drawer," He ordered in a hushed voice.

"Are you serious?"

"Just do it. Don't make a scene." He nodded at WuFei and the other agents who were only just out of earshot.

As casual as possible he grabbed his gun and placed it in the top drawer of his desk.

Trowa nodded and stepped aside.

He walked out of the bullpen and he could feel the other agent's gaze on his back. He paused in front of the door of interrogation room 2 and wiped his palms on his jacket. The empty holster was jarringly light, he missed the weight on his belt. Everything felt off. He wondered if his lies would cost him his badge but at the moment he didn't worry about that. As long as nothing he had done would cost Heero his life, it would be fine.

After a final, deep breath, he opened the door and made eye-contact with Mill. The man had a cold look in his eyes. Duo grinned nervously.

"Sit down."

Duo swallowed. He cast a glance at the chair opposite of Milliardo; the suspect's chair. He stepped into the room and let the door fall shut behind him. Milliardo kept his piercing eyes trained on him. He stood by the chair and rested one hand on the back of it, but he was apprehensive about taking a seat. He knew what it meant that he was being invited to sit there.

"Sit down, Duo."

He recognized there was no persuading his boss that all of that was unnecessary. More than a little perturbed, he sat down. In hopes of easing the tension, he quipped: "What's up with the new digs, Zechs? Office getting refurbished?"

"Don't call me Zechs."

"What are we doing here, Mill? What's going on?"

"You tell me. No lies this time."

Duo sighed and sat back in the chair. He naturally adopted a defiant attitude that he had relied on in the past, during his undercover days, to protect himself. He didn't want Mill to see how shaken he was, yet he couldn't fight the constriction in his throat that kept him from being able to speak.

Milliardo confronted him with the facts. He had discovered that Duo had lied to him about not being at that motel. The man knew he had been coming there for two months to meet up with Heero at night, including last night. He finished: "The manager remembers you, thanks to your braid."

He chuckled bitterly. "The goddamn braid," He managed to croak. He pulled the rope of hair over his shoulder and nervously fidgeted with the end of it. During one of his undercover ops he remembered one of his 'fellow' criminals warning him that the braid was too recognizable and would get him in trouble eventually. He would have never predicted that the drug dealer would end up being right.

Milliardo disrupted his trip down memory lane. "Forensics have already matched fingerprints found at the scene with yours. I'm guessing the long brown hairs in the bed and the used condom in the trash are also yours, correct?"

They had reached the point where lying was truly useless. He had to be honest and that included being honest about the sexual relationship he had with Heero, even though it hurt him to admit to his colleague that he was gay. They had to get this over with quickly so they could all get back to work; back to finding Heero. "Correct."

Milliardo was visibly offended. "Why did you lie to me about your relationship with him?"

Duo scoffed. "I already told you. I didn't want our team to get booted off the case because of my personal relationship with Heero. We are the best and I want the best to be out looking for him."

"You had to have known we would find the link between you and Yuy soon enough."

"Of course I did, but I was hoping that it would take a while, so we would at least find a decent lead before then." This line of questioning was a waste of time and he was getting increasingly agitated and impatient.

Milliardo shook his head at him. "What have you done, Duo? This looks so bad…"

"Come on! Obviously I didn't have anything to do with the murder or the kidnapping!" Duo wrapped his arms around himself. He felt exposed and embarrassed. He bit back: "So I slept with Heero, so what? It is irrelevant to the case."

Milliardo laughed at him and that served to piss him off even further. "Irrelevant? In any other case we would be convinced we had our guy. You were there last night, Duo. The guest next door heard Yuy have sex with someone and then they had a fight. That was you, wasn't it? You slept with Yuy and then you argued." He watched Duo clench his fists. "He called you a coward. You called him a whore… And then you said you would kill him!"

Duo hated having those words thrown in his face, as if he didn't already regret what he had said enough, now his angry outburst also implicated him in the case and distracted the team from finding the actual person responsible! "So I said something stupid?!" He exclaimed, raw with guilt. "What else is new? It's like the guy next door from us said, I left! I stormed out! I didn't kidnap him or kill that other guy!"

"What time did you leave?"

He paused and tried to remember exactly. "A quarter to two," He estimated and then went on to insist: "And I didn't come back. I went home!"

Milliardo took a moment to study his notes and it felt like an eternity went by. In the meantime, Heero was out there, somewhere, frightened, perhaps in pain, perhaps cold… The longer the pointless interrogation lasted, the more acutely he became aware of what a waste of time it was. He counted every second of lost time; every second neither of them were out there actually trying to save Heero.

With a distraught tone to his voice, he asserted: "You know I had nothing to do with this. You know me!"

Milliardo blinked at him. His face was unreadable. "Do I?"

His stomach churned.

"Everyone calls you 'Duo', not 'agent Maxwell' and you know everyone by name. You hand out donuts when we close a case and you are always the one to remind me when I'm about to forget someone's birthday… You have all of us convinced you are our best friend, but nobody really knows you. I know nothing about you."

His heartrate sped up dangerously. Every word Milliardo said was true and he realized how bad it made him look. He never intended to fool or manipulate anyone because he didn't care for them, he had been scared and had only tried to protect himself, but Milliardo didn't know that. There was only one person who knew the truth; Heero.

Mill was merciless as he went on. His words were blunt and destructive, like a jackhammer chipping away at concrete. "I don't know what you do in your spare time. I don't know what kind of sports you like. I've never been to your apartment. I never hear you mention a girlfriend… or a boyfriend. I don't know if you have a pet. I don't know why you keep your hair long. I don't know what you did last Thanksgivings, or who you celebrated Christmas with, or any holiday."

"But none of that is important. You know me, you know I wouldn't…"

Milliardo wasn't letting him talk his way out of it. "You have a temper, I've seen you snap. I know you can be violent and dangerous when you've been drinking. That's what I know."

Mill's implication that he might have been drinking insulted and enraged him. "I haven't been drinking, I told you!" He slammed his fists onto the table, even though his anger only proved the point Milliardo was making. He couldn't keep his cool. He was too stressed and too scared.

"You also told me you were in rehab two full months, you never mentioned checking out twice a week to go to that damn motel!"

"To be with Heero," He declared and his face went red, "not to get wasted! I haven't had a drink in months!"

Milliardo's next word were like a stab in his heart. "You can't seriously expect me to still be able to trust you."

He knew he couldn't blame the agent for distrusting him. He had misled him and he himself was responsible for the consequences. Still, it hurt to hear him say those words so bitterly.

Suddenly the door burst open, interrupting their quiet moment of reflection and they were both caught off guard, nearly leaping out of their seat.

WuFei stood in the doorway and he refused to look at Duo. "Boss, a word?"

"Yeah." Milliardo left him alone in the interrogation room to meet with WuFei in the hallway.

Duo toyed with the end of his braid and worried about what had been so urgent that Chang interrupted the interview. It was against protocol and normally the Chinese man was all about following protocol. He hoped there was a break in the case, that they had uncovered a lead and were close to finding Heero. As a detective he knew the statistics on adult kidnapping and they frightened him and in any other case he would disregard any kind of hope as naiveté. But now that he is was in the other chair and the person who was missing was someone he cared about, not some stranger, he realized remaining hopeful was a necessity; it was a survival strategy of the mind. If he lost hope, he would go crazy and they didn't have time for that.

The clock was ticking.

He became more and more anxious the longer it took for Milliardo to return. When the door opened, it was not the blond agent, but instead WuFei who walked inside and took Mill's seat across from him. "Where's Mill?"

WuFei didn't answer him. He was doing his usual bit where he ignored the suspect and ominously flipped open the case file and looked at it like he had all the answers there and a confession was merely a formality.

Duo had seem him interrogate enough people to know his game-plan and he knew he had to prepare himself. Obviously, he wouldn't fall for the manipulation, since he knew the magician's tricks, but he knew WuFei was about to test and prod him and purposefully drive him to the edge. Flustered suspects were less capable liars and once he had them there he would flip the switch and play the buddy, tell them he understood, tell them there were 'alleviating circumstances'. That's when most suspects would admit their involvement.

They were still in the quiet phase of WuFei's strategy. Without a word he lay three black and white pictures on the table in front of Duo. He didn't say anything, or ask him anything. Most suspects would start volunteering information.

Duo wisely kept his mouth shut, forcing WuFei to break pattern. Chang was poor at improvisation.

"You said you left the motel at a quarter to two," He stated.

Duo grinned at him and said nothing, to throw him off. He wasn't going to play along with him. WuFei saw the world in black and white only, the man was already convinced Duo was guilty. Nothing he could say could change his mind.

"These are security camera images from the gas station. You arrived there half an hour later than you should have if you truly left the motel at a quarter to two."

He kept staring at the agent.

"This is the part where you talk."

Duo shook his head. "This is the part where you actually ask me a question. That's the whole point of an 'interrogation'; interrogate, question, investigate, query, examine, inquire… grill, roast, pump, quiz…"

"This is all a game to you, isn't it?"

"No," He shot back smartly.

WuFei heaved a deep sigh. "Why did you make these purchases at two thirty, when you supposedly left the motel at a quarter to two?"

"As you can see, I bought cigarettes. The reason I was buying cigarettes was because I smoked the last of my pack sitting in my Jeep parked behind the store."

"Why did you stop there for a smoke?"

"I was upset. As the witness reported, I had a fight with Heero."

"Hiroshi Yuy?" He verified.

"Yes. You're getting very good at this question-thing."

Duo's mockery annoyed the serious agent. "What did you to argue about?"

Duo clenched his fists under the table. "That's none of your business. It's not important for the case."

"I decide what is and what isn't important to the case. What was the fight about?" He held his pen ready by his black notebook.

"I'm not going to tell you. It's a waste of time to follow this line of investigation," He growled in response.

"Why are you so certain of that?"

"Because I didn't kidnap Heero!"

"Right." WuFei's mouth was a thin, taut line. "Well, I agree. I don't believe you kidnapped mister Yuy."

"Oh, really?" He scoffed. "Then why am I still in this fucking chair? Who's playing a game now, huh?"

The agent closed the notebook and put his pen in his breast pocket. His every movement was slowed down purposefully to agitate Duo. He placed his hands on the table, entwining the fingers. "I'm serious. You didn't kidnap him… You killed him."

Through gritted teeth Duo snarled: "Fuck you, WuFei."

"I hate what you've made me do. What you've turned me into," He read out loud from the notes and suggested: "Killing? A murderer?"

"Why would I sent that message to Heero's phone if I killed him? It doesn't make any sense."

"Guilty conscience, or just plain crazy. Maybe you thought you could apologize to him by sending a message out there."

Duo shook his head. "You are 'just plain crazy'."

"All the evidence points to you. And if you kidnapped him, you wouldn't have come to work early, if anything you would have been late. Even later than usual. You would have still been playing with him."

Duo felt his anger boil and bubble dangerously close underneath the surface. The dry, matter-of-fact tone with which WuFei accused him only further fueled his rage.

"Your fingerprints were on the scene. As was your DNA, in the semen in the used condom. One witness saw you come to the room last night. Another witness heard you have a heated argument with the victim, post-coital. You show up to work – too early – unshaven, unkempt, exhausted after clearly missing a night's worth of sleep and you have a bruise on your face, indicating you were part of the same struggle, with mister Yuy, that got our John Doe killed. I saw you were looking at old mugshots. He was one of your friends from your time as an undercover cop, wasn't he? You had to dispose of Heero, because he would trace back to, but you didn't have time to get rid of Doe as well, did you? He's much bigger, more difficult to maneuver. You were looking at the mugshots to check to make sure he isn't in our system and you were probably ready to delete his file if he was."

Duo started shaking his head.

"You left after your argument with mister Yuy but you waited in the parking lot for your old pal to help you out," WuFei continued to hypothesize. "Two men strong you went back to the room to get Yuy. As you had predicted, he was stronger than he looked - which was why you called Doe in the first place – and in the struggle Yuy managed to kill Doe in self-defense. But you get the upper-hand and you put Yuy in your car. You're in a hurry so you leave Doe behind. You stop at the gas station for cigarettes. Kidnapping is a stressful business after all. Was Heero already dead in your trunk, or did you kill him after you had a smoke?"

Duo only glared at him.

"It doesn't matter much. Either you killed him in the struggle at the motel, or you killed him after your pit stop and you disposed of the body somewhere between the gas station and Harrisburg. Then you went to work early so you could start lying to everyone to cover your tracks."

"Come on, WuFei," He tried to reason with him. "It's an orgy of evidence! That only happens when a person is being framed! If I were involved in this, would I leave a condom with my semen at the scene? Not to mention all the fingerprints?"

WuFei quirked an eyebrow. "Are you trying to say that your only defense is that if you would have done it, you would have done it better and we would never find out?"

Duo snorted. "I don't know about the others, but you definitely wouldn't know. You're not a very good cop."

The insult succeeded in getting a rise out of the proud agent. He straightened up in his chair and narrowed his black eyes at his suspect. "I am a good cop," He contended. "I am a good detective. All the evidence implicates you."

"And that's why you are not a good detective! Because you can't see the forest through the trees! You always get hung up on things like that, you draw premature conclusions and once you've made up your mind, you can't change it back."

"And what about you? The only reason you are a good detective is because you can think like a criminal! What does that say about you?"

Duo ignored the fact that the jab hit him dead-center in his insecurities and urged: "I know you can't see it, but you are wasting time with me. Heero is out there! You should be looking for him, and not be in here gloating because you think you finally have proof that you're a better cop than me."

"Don't worry. We have the best of the best out there looking for Yuy."

Duo looked up at him, hopeful.

WuFei grinned darkly. "Divers and cadaver dogs."

Without think Duo jumped out of his seat and threw his body over the table. Both men fell to the floor, with Duo on top of WuFei. He held onto his tie with one hand, pulling it tight around the man's neck, and beat him savagely with his free hand. He only managed to land two punches before WuFei caught his fist and flipped them over. Now that the Chinese man was on top he twisted his fingers into the front of Duo's button-up shirt and his pulled him up only far enough to slam him back down, causing Duo's shoulders and head to hit the floor. The pain disoriented him and he could only fight back weakly when WuFei's hands closed around his neck. Realizing he couldn't pry the man's fingers off his throat, he reached up and pulled on WuFei's tie so that the fabric would constrict his airway.

Both were red-faced and close to suffocating when Duo distantly heard the door open and suddenly WuFei was pulled off him and thrown into a corner. He gasped for air and coughed loudly.

"What the fuck are you two doing?!" Trowa yelled. "Are you crazy?!"

Duo scrambled up to his feet and tried to lunge at WuFei again but Trowa caught him and pushed him back to the other side of the room.

"Stop it! Both of you!"

"He's going to get Heero killed the way he's slacking off!" Duo accused, out of breath.

"Fuck you, Maxwell! You're the one stalling and obstructing the investigation!"

Trowa whistled sharply to get both their attention and silence them. "You," He pointed at WuFei. "Out. Now." He grabbed him by his upper arm and maneuvered him out of the room. He told Duo to take a seat and calm himself and then he let the door fall shut behind him.

The American heaved a sigh and did his best to straighten his clothes. Feeling hot all over, he rid himself of his jacket and then sat down again. He couldn't stop his legs from jiggling. Adrenaline was pumping through his body. He could really use a cigarette but it would be futile to ask.

He heard mumbling out in the hallway and surmised that Mill had come to talk to WuFei and Trowa. Duo buried his head in his hands. He knew he was messing things up, but he couldn't think straight. It had been foolish to attack WuFei, obviously he shouldn't have done that, but to hear the man tease him so casually with the likelihood that Heero was already dead made him lose control. He hadn't been thinking, he was just desperate to get out of that room and find his lover. It seemed like no one else was still focused on finding him. Not alive, at least. It infuriated him. He had lied to keep this team on the case because they were the best. He hadn't expected that his actions would unhinge the team in such a way that they might not be the best guys for the job after all.

The door opened and Milliardo entered, carrying two paper cups of water. He placed one of the cups in front of Duo and then he took his seat across from him.

Duo had expected the water to be a peace offering, but clearly it wasn't when Milliardo bit: "Well done. On the day you become a suspect, you decide to finally fight out that beef with Chang."

Duo glared at him. As wrong as it had been of him to attack the agent, WuFei definitely deserved a punch in the face for suggesting Heero was long dead. He resented that Mill appeared to be taking WuFei's side on the matter. "He got on my nerves," Duo shot back.

"You lie to one agent and you fight with another," Milliardo summed up.

Duo shrugged dismissively.

"How are we supposed to work this case if you keep getting in the way of the truth?"

"It's like I told Chang," He spat, "You're wasting your time with me. I didn't do anything. I'm not involved. You should be looking for Heero, not asking me stupid questions!" He pounded the table with his fists again, not caring that the water spilled from the cups. He had to make Mill understand somehow that they had to find Heero, or else Duo knew he would never be able to live with himself.

Milliardo tried to convince him that he had to talk to him, that he was their only lead to find Heero, whether or not he was guilty.

But Duo wasn't very susceptible to his logic. "Then you're being led astray! This approach is only going to lead you further away from actually finding Heero!"

"If you are innocent, it is a reasonable assumption that whoever took Yuy, took him to get at you. Innocent or not, you are the key to finding out what happened."

Although he agreed the kidnapping had to relate back to him somehow, Duo didn't believe that spilling the last of his well-guarded secrets, regarding his personal life, would help them in any way. He implored Mill to look into John Doe, he was certain he must have met him during one of his busts or undercover missions. If they could identify the John Doe, they could go banging on the doors of his known associates. But Milliardo wasn't about to relent and Duo chose the only option that he thought would force Milliardo to give up on this fruitless pursuit into his personal life and would get him on the right track. "I'm lawyering-up. I'm not saying anything until I get a lawyer in here. In the meantime you can go out and actually look for Heero." He jumped in his seat when the other agent hit the table and he noticed the determination in those ice-blue eyes.

"If you didn't do this and you want us to find Heero alive, we are your best friends," He advised him. "Because if you tell us your side of the story we might be able to prove your innocence and in the process find the person who is responsible and hunt them down to get Heero back safely."

Duo was rendered speechless. His heart was pounding.

"You want that? Right? You want Heero to be safe?"

Duo readily agreed: "Yes. Fuck, of course I do." His voice cracked as he spoke.

"Tell me the whole story, Duo," Milliardo urged.

It dawned on Duo that he had no choice but to trust his boss. With a sigh he resigned to Milliardo's behest and told him everything.

---

To be Continued…

Of course I couldn't make Duo the bad-guy, that's not how I roll :P