AC 202. Post EW. The Preventers are an elite force, designed to protect high-ranking government officials and ensure the Alliance's survival. Heero Yuy is the best among them, even though his position now is officially 'Bodyguard,' which he prefers. When a supposedly simple operation, to infiltrate a new-age cult within the capitol, heralds the arrival of a prophetic shooting star, Heero discovers that the Bartons didn't just invest in the creation of the Gundams.

Just what is a Perfect Soldier?


A/N- This story takes place a little over 5 years from Endless Waltz. It incorporates lots of canon information from the series/OAV and then moves into a new adventure. However, I would not consider this AU as the rules of the Wing universe are still in play. This story is not Frozen Teardrop compliant.

Hope you enjoy. As always, I don't own Gundam Wing. If I did, I'd write a new series.


Quixotic

adj. Chivalrous or romantic, to a ridiculous or extravagant degree.


"This is the only thing I can do for you right now."

Truer lines were never spoken, and in his life, he'd said them twice.

Both times to women, if that were anything to go by. He was starting to think it was.

The first, to a grieving girl over the mistaken death of her Grandfather. It was the only course of action he could find to complete his failed mission. Looking back, Heero could concede that Sylvia Noventa had been right. He'd been a coward.

Revenge. That how he thought the grieving souls of the deceased's families were eased. That's what he was taught in relation to the Colonies, and to Earth. It was naïve. He knew now: revenge only lead to meaningless battles. Apparently illegitimate children did too, but in retrospect, none of them could have seen that coming.

"This is the only thing I can do for you right now."

The second time, it felt like those words had come from a different man. Although both instances could have resulted in his death, it was different when saying them to Relena as she clutched the edge of Wing Zero's cockpit, her helmet thrust over the controls into his face. More… hopeful. At least, 'hope' was how he identified the feeling. She was the first person to ever give him some semblance of hope. She was the first person who ever gave a damn about him coming back alive, more so even then himself.

His life had always been compartmentalized into missions. Missions like his father had, or so he gathered, from the files he was able to recover before taking Zero offline for good.

He supposed he had once thought of Relana as a mission too, the whole careening wake of her that swept him up in its relentless tenderness. Affection will rationalize strange things, and when you act on your emotions, the lines tend to get a bit blurred.

It made him wonder about the circumstances of his birth, of Mariemaia's, of all of them. Of all the ones who came before and all the ones who would come after. It made him wonder how such fucked up people as his father's generation could have given birth to children. But he had to remind himself, their children had turned out pretty fucked up too.

Heero knew he'd always need an end goal. If protecting Relena was that end goal, he would lay down his life. But it was foolish to dismiss the fact that he cared about her. He did. She was a part of him as much as his Gundam was, more even; because he was content to send Zero into the sun while he was pretty sure he'd go on a homicidal rampage if anything were to ever happen to the (formerly Vice) Foreign Minister.

He could explain this to her, but she would undoubtedly pout reminiscent of an unhappy debutant and ask him why he didn't 'live for himself'. He couldn't help it. She was… if it were not for her he would be dead. If not for her he wouldn't know what iswasto live.

Heero realized quite early on that these were the kind of things women like to hear. It stroked their egos. But he couldn't say them. It wasn't that his feelings were false, but in all honesty, he was a bit embarrassed about them.

Relena could be intimidating, although he'd never admit it out loud. Still, those who knew him well enough could pick up on it.

"Pah, women…dothat," Duo Maxwell would converse casually during mission down time. He'd cross his arms over the chest of his borrowed Preventer's uniform- he'd become one of the organization's part-time contractors- and tilt his head back, as if he'd gone from The God of Death to The God of Relationship Wisdom. "They fuck with yourmind, man."

Not that he would ever,ever,ask Duo Maxwell for romantic advice. The man was a constant revolving door of bickering, sulking, and making-up with his wife. Most of what the braided pilot had to say came unsolicited, and usually required the silent treatment or a good threat to shut him up.

"Sometimes you've gotta take control, Heero! Women like that kind of thing."

Heero adjusted the digital focus on a pair of binoculars and ignored the comment. He and his loud-mouthed partner were currently tailing the head of a small group of 'freedom fighters' in the Capitol. It was rumored they were planning on causing a disturbance during the upcoming Mars Terraforming Commission's conference in a few days.

Relena would be there.

There was no doubt he'd be on her personal security detail.

He knew he was the best, and that's why they always assigned him to her. It wouldn't have mattered, he'd have volunteered anyway, but they put him on the roster like it was a given. Sometimes, he thought they wanted to see if he'd refuse. Like it was a test. They wanted to see how long he'd stay stoically by her side; how long it would take before his feelings got the better of his protocol.

Did he love Relena? It would certainly be better for them both if he didn't. Less complicated. But then, he was starting to think life ever being 'less complicated' was a bit of a pipe dream.

"Be rough with her. You know," Duo continued, munching on a bag of something loud and obnoxious in the unmarked car's passenger seat, "throw her up against the wall, rip off her pantsuit, threaten her life- heh, I almost forgot, you've already done that last one."

Through the lens, Heero could see their target down the street being escorted into an inconspicuous building. "I'm warning you now to stop talking, while you still have all your fingers." He typed the building's address down on the cruiser's center console computer pad, one-handed.

Duo rolled his eyes, "Jeez."

"Your lack of focus is the reason the Preventers won't hire you full-time."

"Idorun a business too, buddy."

"You're wife runs that business and you gamble away the profits, which is why you're here."

"Are you going to do this theentiremission?"

"Hn." Heero set the goggles down, "They've gone inside."

Now that he thought about it, there wasn't really one defining moment where his relationship towards Relena had changed. It was much more fluid. He did know, at one point, that he had been annoyed with her. More than annoyed. She could have compromised his entire mission. But after a few encounters, when he could have clearly disposed of her but hadn't, he realized that she was worth protecting.

At least, politically.

She was important to his mission, a part of his tactical advantage. And then love? Well, that was harder to pinpoint. And even harder to define.

Maybe it reallywaslove. But most of the time, Heero wasn't even sure he could correctly identify the emotion. He certainly did care for her.

Somewhere around the time he spent in the Sanq kingdom his regard for her had grown. When she had followed him into space…

Seeing her alive on Libra had nearly undone him. He'd been so flooded with relief. It had taken every ounce of training since he was a child to keep his soldier's cool composure.

Not that it was unrequited. He knew exactly how she felt, which would make a relationship that much more dangerous.

A small voice inside his head reminded him that, for all his stoicism, he'd been unable to completely resist her.

On more than one occasion.

"So, are we gonna do this?" Duo cracked his knuckles as he leered out the windshield.

"No."

That prompted a grumbling, incredulous sigh, "Are you kidding? Then why the hell'd ya bring me out here in the first place if-"

"Cool it," Heero reached behind the passenger seat, pulling back up with him a camo-green duffle bag. He plopped it down on the other pilot's lap. "You've got everything you need in here."

Duo raised en eyebrow as he unzipped the duffle. Inside under the extra shirts, lightweight jacket, and some cash, a handgun glimmered.

"The conference is tomorrow."

"And?"

Heero frowned, "Didn't you read the mission briefing?"

With a cavalier smile, Duo said, "Ineverread the mission briefing."

Of course.

"You have paperwork claiming you part of the rebel group. It's a conglomeration of a few worldwide cells headed by what they consider a 'divinely inspired' leader. The have gained a… diverse following, so you won't be noticed. I will be covering the Foreign Minister-"

Duo snorted, "I bet you will."

That was ignored, but there was an edge to Heero's voice when he spoke next, "We believe they will try and disrupt the Conference. There's no direct threat to Relena's life, but we want to keep an eye on things."

"Who's covering the President?"

"Wufei."

Duo let out a bark of laughter, "That's perfect. I bet they're having the time of their lives together."

"Dorothy Catalonia has the full support of every Preventer agent."

"Uh-huh."

After a moment, Heero couldn't help the small chuckle at the thought. "No, they don't get along very well at all."

Dorothy Catalonia was the only person in the entire Earth's Sphere that could out-rant Chang. Heero had seen it in action, and after a few failed attempts to gain verbal dominance, Wufei had quietly stopped trying. He hadn't admitted defeat, not exactly, but there was an extreme unwillingness on Wufei's part to engage the President in fights he could not win, even if Dorothy did goad him. Heero surmised that a bit of the man's pride had been tempered as a result.

It was a surprise Sally Po didn't give the other woman some kind of award, for her job was made infinitely easier as a result.

"So," Duo checked the clip before tucking the handgun in waistband of his jeans, "I'm suppose to just walkinthere?"

"I thought stealth was your specialty."

Duo popped the passenger door, sliding out and closing it behind him. He leaned in through the open window.

"You know," he said as he adjusted his new jacket, tossing the Preventers one in the backseat, "I'm real glad Relena's been mildly successful in prying you out of your shell, but maybe we could keep the sarcasm to a minimum, huh buddy?"

Heero clipped his seatbelt, raising a pair of dark sunglasses to his face. "Get in touch with headquarters tonight. Until then, you're on your own."

"Yeah. Roger that."

Duo watched the other pilot turn the engine over, adjust his mirrors, check over his shoulder for on-coming traffic.

Give me a break, Duo thought, with an amused grimace.

Heero pulled into the lane and sped out of sight.

Duo cracked his neck. "Well," he said with a huff, "let's do this."

Slinging the bag over one shoulder, the former God of Death now God of Relationship Wisdom skirted oncoming cars and darted across four lanes of traffic to the other side of the street.

The target building was down the sidewalk by about six full lots, but there was an alley that would lead him around back.

The streets were relatively clean, he thought, if its alleyways were anything to go by. The Capitol was like that though: they kept it pristine in order to make foreign dignitaries feel comfortable and safe. Well, Duo supposed that he and the others were doing their part as well, keeping the Earth Sphere safe from crazy terrorists and post-war nut jobs.

And Heero didn't have to be so mean. So Duo didn't take onas manyassignments as the others. He certainly took more than Quatre, and hecertainlyspent more time in the Colonies then Heero ever did anymore. The majority of that guy's time in space was spent guarding Minister Darlian, following her like a scowling shadow.

Maybe it was good thing, the braided pilot surmised, pulling himself over a chain-link fence and dropping down without a sound.

Maybe that close call against Marimeia had finally knocked some sense into him.

Then again, Duo thought with a grin, it wasn't likely.

Heero didn't necessarilyavoidnew field assignments, but the ones he did engage in were never longer than a month, and almostallhad to do with the Foreign Minister, or the President's, direct safety.

It wasn't, Duo thought, that Heero had no interest in being more involved, it was just that most post-war missions weren't dicey enough to warrant someone with Heero's talents. The Preventers had been dousing relatively tiny 'fires'; it wasn't worth the Perfect Soldier's time. When he could, Heero seemed to enjoy the quiet life of Bodyguard.

But none of them could stay away forever. Fighting was ingrained within Heero just as much as it was ingrained in the rest of them.

It was why they still took these kinds of missions.

Kneeling, Duo unzipped the duffle bag, pulling out his fake passport and other 'credentials'. He scanned the document.

"Hmm, let's see..."

The organization was called…Children of the Meteor...? Duo raised an eyebrow. That was… odd. It looked like they had a small, but vocal, following on the net too. They resided mostly on conspiracy forums, and their beliefs were murky at best.

Guess they saved their real business talk for the in-person meetings.

And they did have a leader they considered to be 'divinely inspired', as Heero had put it.

First Disciple Xen Ferox.

Grand master sir wizard champion of the nut balls. Or whatever.

The guy hadn't been a soldier under OZ, or part of the Treiz Faction; not a member of the Colony rebels, or the White Fang. There were no records of him acting under Marimeia or being a part of Earth's resistance fighters. In fact, there was hardly any background on Ferox at all. It was like he had appeared, right out of the blue, just a couple years ago.

Tucking the papers in his pocket, Duo slung the bag back, peeking around the side of the building. Up ahead, two men with guns stood amidst the shadows of an inconspicuous double doorway. Standing, he threw his shoulders back, took a breath, and strode around into the open alleyway.

He hadn't even walked fully out of the shadows before one of the guards cocked his rifle, pointing it in his direction as they spotted him.

"Stop right there!" The man barked.

Duo's hands flew up, "Hey now, we're all friends here."

There was a tense moment of impasse.

"Look," he continued, "I'm here about the- uh- club meeting? I even brought my dues," he said, motioning to his bag, where the wad of cash weighed heavily against the canvas.

"Don't move!" The guard snapped. "Now step forward, slowly…"

Walking into the light, Duo rolled his eyes. "You are aware those are two completely opposite commands, right? Huh?" He blinked in surprise.

"Lower your weapon," the second guard said in a low, calm voice to his comrade, "I know this guy."

Duo squinted into the dark doorway.

Trowa?

The other Preventer agent, dressed in civilian clothing, gave Duo a small smile.

So, he'd gone undercover too.

The first guard lowered his gun, barking gruffly, "Well, lets see some proof then. Show me your invitation." Duo came forward, fished the papers out and handing them over. The guard looked them over begrudgingly, his nose wrinkled.

"So," Duo shoved his hands in his pockets, addressing Trowa directly. "How long you been here for? We haven't seen each other since that… uh, that thing."

"Since the birthday party."

"Riiight."

Relena had hosted a gala event back in April. All the pilots had been in attendance.

Trowa leaned against the metal doorframe. "I've been here about a week helping with logistical plans."

The guard gave a grunt, handing Duo back his papers. "You two know each other through- what?"

"This is the only thing I can do for you right now."

Truer lines were never spoken, and in his life, he'd said them twice.

Both times to women, if that were anything to go by. He was starting to think it was.

The first, to a grieving girl over the mistaken death of her Grandfather. It was the only course of action he could find to complete his failed mission. Looking back, Heero could concede that Sylvia Noventa had been right. He'd been a coward.

Revenge. That how he thought the grieving souls of the deceased's families were eased. That's what he was taught in relation to the Colonies, and to Earth. It was naïve. He knew now: revenge only lead to meaningless battles. Apparently illegitimate children did too, but in retrospect, none of them could have seen that coming.

"This is the only thing I can do for you right now."

The second time, it felt like those words had come from a different man. Although both instances could have resulted in his death, it was different when saying them to Relena as she clutched the edge of Wing Zero's cockpit, her helmet thrust over the controls into his face. More… hopeful. At least, 'hope' was how he identified the feeling. She was the first person to ever give him some semblance of hope. She was the first person who ever gave a damn about him coming back alive, more so even then himself.

His life had always been compartmentalized into missions. Missions like his father had, or so he gathered, from the files he was able to recover before taking Zero offline for good.

He supposed he had once thought of Relana as a mission too, the whole careening wake of her that swept him up in its relentless tenderness. Affection will rationalize strange things, and when you act on your emotions, the lines tend to get a bit blurred.

It made him wonder about the circumstances of his birth, of Mariemaia's, of all of them. Of all the ones who came before and all the ones who would come after. It made him wonder how such fucked up people as his father's generation could have given birth to children. But he had to remind himself, their children had turned out pretty fucked up too.

Heero knew he'd always need an end goal. If protecting Relena was that end goal, he would lay down his life. But it was foolish to dismiss the fact that he cared about her. He did. She was a part of him as much as his Gundam was, more even; because he was content to send Zero into the sun while he was pretty sure he'd go on a homicidal rampage if anything were to ever happen to the (formerly Vice) Foreign Minister.

He could explain this to her, but she would undoubtedly pout reminiscent of an unhappy debutant and ask him why he didn't 'live for himself'. He couldn't help it. She was… if it were not for her he would be dead. If not for her he wouldn't know what iswasto live.

Heero realized quite early on that these were the kind of things women like to hear. It stroked their egos. But he couldn't say them. It wasn't that his feelings were false, but in all honesty, he was a bit embarrassed about them.

Relena could be intimidating, although he'd never admit it out loud. Still, those who knew him well enough could pick up on it.

"Pah, women…dothat," Duo Maxwell would converse casually during mission down time. He'd cross his arms over the chest of his borrowed Preventer's uniform- he'd become one of the organization's part-time contractors- and tilt his head back, as if he'd gone from The God of Death to The God of Relationship Wisdom. "They fuck with yourmind, man."

Not that he would ever,ever,ask Duo Maxwell for romantic advice. The man was a constant revolving door of bickering, sulking, and making-up with his wife. Most of what the braided pilot had to say came unsolicited, and usually required the silent treatment or a good threat to shut him up.

"Sometimes you've gotta take control, Heero! Women like that kind of thing."

Heero adjusted the digital focus on a pair of binoculars and ignored the comment. He and his loud-mouthed partner were currently tailing the head of a small group of 'freedom fighters' in the Capitol. It was rumored they were planning on causing a disturbance during the upcoming Mars Terraforming Commission's conference in a few days.

Relena would be there.

There was no doubt he'd be on her personal security detail.

He knew he was the best, and that's why they always assigned him to her. It wouldn't have mattered, he'd have volunteered anyway, but they put him on the roster like it was a given. Sometimes, he thought they wanted to see if he'd refuse. Like it was a test. They wanted to see how long he'd stay stoically by her side; how long it would take before his feelings got the better of his protocol.

Did he love Relena? It would certainly be better for them both if he didn't. Less complicated. But then, he was starting to think life ever being 'less complicated' was a bit of a pipe dream.

"Be rough with her. You know," Duo continued, munching on a bag of something loud and obnoxious in the unmarked car's passenger seat, "throw her up against the wall, rip off her pantsuit, threaten her life- heh, I almost forgot, you've already done that last one."

Through the lens, Heero could see their target down the street being escorted into an inconspicuous building. "I'm warning you now to stop talking, while you still have all your fingers." He typed the building's address down on the cruiser's center console computer pad, one-handed.

Duo rolled his eyes, "Jeez."

"Your lack of focus is the reason the Preventers won't hire you full-time."

"Idorun a business too, buddy."

"You're wife runs that business and you gamble away the profits, which is why you're here."

"Are you going to do this theentiremission?"

"Hn." Heero set the goggles down, "They've gone inside."

Now that he thought about it, there wasn't really one defining moment where his relationship towards Relena had changed. It was much more fluid. He did know, at one point, that he had been annoyed with her. More than annoyed. She could have compromised his entire mission. But after a few encounters, when he could have clearly disposed of her but hadn't, he realized that she was worth protecting.

At least, politically.

She was important to his mission, a part of his tactical advantage. And then love? Well, that was harder to pinpoint. And even harder to define.

Maybe it reallywaslove. But most of the time, Heero wasn't even sure he could correctly identify the emotion. He certainly did care for her.

Somewhere around the time he spent in the Sanq kingdom his regard for her had grown. When she had followed him into space…

Seeing her alive on Libra had nearly undone him. He'd been so flooded with relief. It had taken every ounce of training since he was a child to keep his soldier's cool composure.

Not that it was unrequited. He knew exactly how she felt, which would make a relationship that much more dangerous.

A small voice inside his head reminded him that, for all his stoicism, he'd been unable to completely resist her.

On more than one occasion.

"So, are we gonna do this?" Duo cracked his knuckles as he leered out the windshield.

"No."

That prompted a grumbling, incredulous sigh, "Are you kidding? Then why the hell'd ya bring me out here in the first place if-"

"Cool it," Heero reached behind the passenger seat, pulling back up with him a camo-green duffle bag. He plopped it down on the other pilot's lap. "You've got everything you need in here."

Duo raised en eyebrow as he unzipped the duffle. Inside under the extra shirts, lightweight jacket, and some cash, a handgun glimmered.

"The conference is tomorrow."

"And?"

Heero frowned, "Didn't you read the mission briefing?"

With a cavalier smile, Duo said, "Ineverread the mission briefing."

Of course.

"You have paperwork claiming you part of the rebel group. It's a conglomeration of a few worldwide cells headed by what they consider a 'divinely inspired' leader. The have gained a… diverse following, so you won't be noticed. I will be covering the Foreign Minister-"

Duo snorted, "I bet you will."

That was ignored, but there was an edge to Heero's voice when he spoke next, "We believe they will try and disrupt the Conference. There's no direct threat to Relena's life, but we want to keep an eye on things."

"Who's covering the President?"

"Wufei."

Duo let out a bark of laughter, "That's perfect. I bet they're having the time of their lives together."

"Dorothy Catalonia has the full support of every Preventer agent."

"Uh-huh."

After a moment, Heero couldn't help the small chuckle at the thought. "No, they don't get along very well at all."

Dorothy Catalonia was the only person in the entire Earth's Sphere that could out-rant Chang. Heero had seen it in action, and after a few failed attempts to gain verbal dominance, Wufei had quietly stopped trying. He hadn't admitted defeat, not exactly, but there was an extreme unwillingness on Wufei's part to engage the President in fights he could not win, even if Dorothy did goad him. Heero surmised that a bit of the man's pride had been tempered as a result.

It was a surprise Sally Po didn't give the other woman some kind of award, for her job was made infinitely easier as a result.

"So," Duo checked the clip before tucking the handgun in waistband of his jeans, "I'm suppose to just walkinthere?"

"I thought stealth was your specialty."

Duo popped the passenger door, sliding out and closing it behind him. He leaned in through the open window.

"You know," he said as he adjusted his new jacket, tossing the Preventers one in the backseat, "I'm real glad Relena's been mildly successful in prying you out of your shell, but maybe we could keep the sarcasm to a minimum, huh buddy?"

Heero clipped his seatbelt, raising a pair of dark sunglasses to his face. "Get in touch with headquarters tonight. Until then, you're on your own."

"Yeah. Roger that."

Duo watched the other pilot turn the engine over, adjust his mirrors, check over his shoulder for on-coming traffic.

Give me a break, Duo thought, with an amused grimace.

Heero pulled into the lane and sped out of sight.

Duo cracked his neck. "Well," he said with a huff, "let's do this."

Slinging the bag over one shoulder, the former God of Death now God of Relationship Wisdom skirted oncoming cars and darted across four lanes of traffic to the other side of the street.

The target building was down the sidewalk by about six full lots, but there was an alley that would lead him around back.

The streets were relatively clean, he thought, if its alleyways were anything to go by. The Capitol was like that though: they kept it pristine in order to make foreign dignitaries feel comfortable and safe. Well, Duo supposed that he and the others were doing their part as well, keeping the Earth Sphere safe from crazy terrorists and post-war nut jobs.

And Heero didn't have to be so mean. So Duo didn't take onas manyassignments as the others. He certainly took more than Quatre, and hecertainlyspent more time in the Colonies then Heero ever did anymore. The majority of that guy's time in space was spent guarding Minister Darlian, following her like a scowling shadow.

Maybe it was good thing, the braided pilot surmised, pulling himself over a chain-link fence and dropping down without a sound.

Maybe that close call against Marimeia had finally knocked some sense into him.

Then again, Duo thought with a grin, it wasn't likely.

Heero didn't necessarilyavoidnew field assignments, but the ones he did engage in were never longer than a month, and almostallhad to do with the Foreign Minister, or the President's, direct safety.

It wasn't, Duo thought, that Heero had no interest in being more involved, it was just that most post-war missions weren't dicey enough to warrant someone with Heero's talents. The Preventers had been dousing relatively tiny 'fires'; it wasn't worth the Perfect Soldier's time. When he could, Heero seemed to enjoy the quiet life of Bodyguard.

But none of them could stay away forever. Fighting was ingrained within Heero just as much as it was ingrained in the rest of them.

It was why they still took these kinds of missions.

Kneeling, Duo unzipped the duffle bag, pulling out his fake passport and other 'credentials'. He scanned the document.

"Hmm, let's see..."

The organization was called…Children of the Meteor...? Duo raised an eyebrow. That was… odd. It looked like they had a small, but vocal, following on the net too. They resided mostly on conspiracy forums, and their beliefs were murky at best.

Guess they saved their real business talk for the in-person meetings.

And they did have a leader they considered to be 'divinely inspired', as Heero had put it.

First Disciple Xen Ferox.

Grand master sir wizard champion of the nut balls. Or whatever.

The guy hadn't been a soldier under OZ, or part of the Treiz Faction; not a member of the Colony rebels, or the White Fang. There were no records of him acting under Marimeia or being a part of Earth's resistance fighters. In fact, there was hardly any background on Ferox at all. It was like he had appeared, right out of the blue, just a couple years ago.

Tucking the papers in his pocket, Duo slung the bag back, peeking around the side of the building. Up ahead, two men with guns stood amidst the shadows of an inconspicuous double doorway. Standing, he threw his shoulders back, took a breath, and strode around into the open alleyway.

He hadn't even walked fully out of the shadows before one of the guards cocked his rifle, pointing it in his direction as they spotted him.

"Stop right there!" The man barked.

Duo's hands flew up, "Hey now, we're all friends here."

There was a tense moment of impasse.

"Look," he continued, "I'm here about the- uh- club meeting? I even brought my dues," he said, motioning to his bag, where the wad of cash weighed heavily against the canvas.

"Don't move!" The guard snapped. "Now step forward, slowly…"

Walking into the light, Duo rolled his eyes. "You are aware those are two completely opposite commands, right? Huh?" He blinked in surprise.

"Lower your weapon," the second guard said in a low, calm voice to his comrade, "I know this guy."

Duo squinted into the dark doorway.

Trowa?

The other Preventer agent, dressed in civilian clothing, gave Duo a small smile.

So, he'd gone undercover too.

The first guard lowered his gun, barking gruffly, "Well, lets see some proof then. Show me your invitation." Duo came forward, fished the papers out and handing them over. The guard looked them over begrudgingly, his nose wrinkled.

"So," Duo shoved his hands in his pockets, addressing Trowa directly. "How long you been here for? We haven't seen each other since that… uh, that thing."

"Since the birthday party."

"Riiight."

Relena had hosted a gala event back in April. All the pilots had been in attendance.

Trowa leaned against the metal doorframe. "I've been here about a week helping with logistical plans."

The guard gave a grunt, handing Duo back his papers. "You two know each other through- what?"

"The War," Trowa said, before Duo could even open his mouth. "We became Children right after that, didn't we?"

Duo blinked, "Yeah, that's uh- that's right. That Ferox is one convincing guy!" He hiked the dufflebag higher up his arm. "So, you gonna give me the tour?"

The former pilot nodded, "My shifts over anyway. I'll send out the next one," he told the other guard before opening one of the big metal doors, motioning for Duo to follow. The man still on-duty gave him a sneering, untrusting glare as the braided pilot slipped past into the darkness beyond.

"The War," Trowa said, before Duo could even open his mouth. "We became Children right after that, didn't we?"

Duo blinked, "Yeah, that's uh- that's right. That Ferox is one convincing guy!" He hiked the dufflebag higher up his arm. "So, you gonna give me the tour?"

The former pilot nodded, "My shifts over anyway. I'll send out the next one," he told the other guard before opening one of the big metal doors, motioning for Duo to follow. The man still on-duty gave him a sneering, untrusting glare as the braided pilot slipped past into the darkness beyond.


A/N- This is intended to be a sequel to my 1xR fic 'Disarmament'. You can read this story without having read the other, but just be aware that some minor information (how Heero became Relena's bodyguard after EW) is based on events in 'Disarmament'.

Thanks for reading, please review!