The former Gundam Pilots did not spend much
time in the Preventor Main Headquarters. Too much time spent in
action had made them accustomed to it, and all of them grew restless
quickly, each demanding in their own manner to return to the field,
to something, anything but paperwork.
Duo, in particular, had difficulties with it,
the repetitive filling out of forms and reports, and he had on
numerous occasions loudly declared that touching any kind of
processed paper gave him hives. Whether or not he had a true allergy
had never been proven, but his presence in the offices had confirmed
a severe allergy in the rest of the staff to -him-.
In an attempt to control at least some of his
more ‘exuberant' behaviors, he had been given a shared office with
Heero, the one person who seemed unperturbed by Duo's antics.
There were worse ideas in the history of the
world, but not many.
If anyone enjoyed a challenge, it was Duo
Maxwell, and trying to find a way to distract Heero had become his
latest mission. Spitballs and flung pencils were an everyday
occurrence. On occasion, Heero would find pictures of naked men
tucked into his files, pairs of too-pretty boys contorted together
in impractical positions, and once, a picture of Duo, naked but for
the ineffective veil of his hair, smiling cheekily at whomever had
snapped the photo.
He'd kept that one.
More than once, he'd stoically taken
deliveries of delicate flowers and brightly colored balloons, often
from sweaty couriers in uncomfortable costumes. He'd done so without
comment or complaint, placed his 'gift' on a corner of his desk and
simply continued his work. Une had been the one to finally put her
foot down and ordered Duo to tone it down, namely because she didn't
feel the stripper was appropriate for an office setting
Through all of it, Heero maintained his focus,
giving Duo no more than an affirmative or negative grunt whenever he
slyly questioned about the items.
Of all the little games and gimmicks Duo had
attempted, Heero had never thought that his absence would be the one
that finally worked. Without tapping feet, snatches of music sang
and then hummed wherever Duo forgot the words, Heero found he
couldn't concentrate.
After his third attempt to read the daily
reports, Heero finally turned off the computer, resting his chin on
his folded hands as he studied the empty desk on the other side of
the office.
It had begun earlier in the day with a parcel
in the morning mail. Duo had seemed fine then, had been stirring his
fourth spoonful of sugar into the sludge he call coffee, had winked
and blown a kiss to Alisa, the blushing intern who was delivering
the mail that day.
The address had been from L-2, and Heero had
seen the brief frown crease Duo's face for only a moment before he
opened it. A single slip of paper had been inside, a clipping from a
newspaper. An obituary for a Joseph Tiotoma, Heero knew, having
rescued the wadded paper from the trash where Duo had thrown it. The
grainy black and white picture showing a man perhaps in his forties,
sporting the same plastic-lipped smile as most people in portraits.
Services had been three days before. No family listed. No one
extraordinary, no one Duo had ever mentioned.
Duo had apparently known him anyway. He'd
blinked a few times while reading it, growing paler with each
passing moment before he'd thrown the clipping into the trash and
left the building without a word to anyone.
Unusual behavior even for Duo, Heero had
noted, before finishing his own coffee and going to their office.
Hours later, he had accomplished not even half of his tasks for the
day, and worse, Duo had shown no signs of returning. He'd turned off
his pager, or was simply ignoring his messages.
The situation was really becoming
unacceptable, Heero decided, with Duo not here to do any work, and
him unable to concentrate on his, perhaps it was time for legwork
instead.
He tossed the mostly unintelligible report
he'd been trying to write into the trash, sorted the rest of the
papers into their files before flicking off the light and locking
the door, unhurried, thoughtful gestures as he considered where Duo
might have gone.
The first thick breath of the humid summer air
as he stepped outside was like trying to inhale through a burlap
sack, and felt about as pleasant. Heero had a brief moment of
yearning for his old outfit and settled for removing his uniform
shirt, folding it neatly over one arm.
Duo was a creature of habits, many of them
revolving around food of a greasy and peculiarly disgusting nature.
There were several restaurants in the area that Duo liked to
frequent, but a cursory search revealed that he hadn't visited any
of the establishments on that day. Heero even checked the Taka
Sushi, from which they had been banned the previous year for an
incident involving one of their booths. Heero hadn't minded.
Machine-made sushi was rather distasteful.
He searched for well over an hour, wandering
in and out of restaurants and shops, and even took time to call
their apartment to see if perhaps Duo had gone there, but he hadn't.
To his shame, it was by accident that Heero eventually found him;
walking down the boardwalk he happened to glance down the beach and
saw a lone figure far away from the crowds and laughter, sitting
amongst an outcropping of jagged rocks.
Heero walked towards the rocks, climbing
easily over the rough-edged barrier of stone until he could see the
person clearly. Kneeling awkwardly in the sand, close enough to the
water that Heero could see flecks of saltwater on his face, was Duo.
He'd lost his shoes somewhere; the soles of
his feet were slightly reddened, presumably from the heat of the
sand. The wind was shaping his hair into banners of chestnut brown,
fluttering wildly around him and certainly tying wicked little knots
that Duo would be struggling with for hours that evening. Rumpled
clothing, the skin of his face hinting at sunburn.
He was lovely.
Warmth and discomfort met somewhere in Heero's
middle, congealing into something almost like a cramp. He ignored it
and walked across the sand to Duo, close enough that the ends of
Duo's hair whipped against his trouser legs. Duo never moved, his
eyes still on the rippling surf.
Heero stood behind him silently, shifting
awkwardly from foot to foot as he searched for the proper words in
this circumstance. Meaningless apologies and expressions of regret
aside, there seemed little to say. Duo was likely expecting
something, though, and Heero was the only person here to say it.
"Who was Joseph Tiotoma?" Heero asked,
quietly, the uselessness of any other questions leaving him only
with curiosity.
Duo exhaled, slowly, his eyes never leaving
the dance of the waves. He spoke slowly, oddly, giving each word
undue care, as if they might break if said too quickly. "He was an
old friend, no," Duo interrupted himself, ducking his head and he
smiled faintly without humor. "It's weird to hear you call him
Joseph. We all knew him as Tio."
He fell silent, reaching out to cup a handful
of sand. He studied them silently, keeping whatever answers he saw
there to himself, before tipping his hand and allowing a thin stream
of shimmering brown to pour out.
"Tio," Duo said clearly, leaning forward to
trace the name in the damp sand, "was an old whore who got me off
the streets, took me into his place and only asked for thirty
percent of the profits."
Heero said nothing, knew that none of his
emotions were showing on his face, but it seemed not to matter. Duo
had yet to even glance at him.
"If it hadn't been him it would have been
someone else. At least he was nice," Duo continued, shrugging. "Hey,
a guy's gotta eat."
"Duo, you couldn't have been more than
twelve."
"Twelve year olds eat a lot." Duo said
lightly, still smiling and there was nothing false in it, no lies
from Duo in words or expression.
Heero exhaled slowly, the wind snatching the
tiny sound away unheard. He debated briefly what to do now. Duo had
been found and while he was not entirely happy, he was unhurt, and
there was a great deal of work to do back at headquarters before
they began their next mission. It would be best to gather Duo up and
escort him back. Unhappiness could be accomplished there just as
well as here.
Instead, Heero moved to sit behind the other
boy, carefully finger combing the long strands of Duo's hair to one
side before settling his chin on the newly exposed shoulder and
wrapping his arms loosely around Duo's waist. He felt Duo sigh and
his head tilted backwards until his cheek was resting against
Heero's.
"Who sent you the clipping?" Heero asked
softly, his lips just brushing the curve of Duo's ear.
Duo gave a little shrug. "Who knows? Someone
who used to know me maybe?" He raised a hand to his lips, chewing
thoughtfully on his thumbnail. "Could be someone thinks they've got
something on me but..." Duo shook his head. "Nah. I'm not really worth
blackmailing, and if that's all they've got, I could give a shit,
anyway."
There was no sound but the surf and the faint
shrieks of seabirds, no movement but Duo's hair. It was eerie for
Duo to be so very still; he was a creature of motion even when he
was asleep. Faint murmurs and restless tossing were commonplace, and
Heero simply accepted it as part of the package that was Duo, like
taking shipments of flowers and balloons in the workplace was, and
enduring kisses in public places for no more reason than Duo wanted
one. Like knowing when Duo wanted to be held and didn't know how to
ask.
The wind coming off the ocean was cooling and
he felt Duo shiver. Heero tightened his arms around him, being very
careful not to cause pain. "Are you all right?" he asked.
Duo laughed, only very softly, but it was
still there. "No. But I will be." He slid a hand over one of
Heero's, entwining their fingers and the two of them watched the
constant slide of the waves against the sand.
-finis
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