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"Lasting Impressions"Written By: Dragonmistress_7 Disclaimer: I don't own the Gundam Wing Boys.
Lasting Impressions Chapter 2 Heero wasn’t aware he was looking for signs of Duo’s discontent with his lot until he found one. After Duo had bathed, washing off most of the ugly brown paste from his skin, he’d asked not to be forced to reapply. “Please, Heero? Eventually it will stain my skin brown permanently, but right now it doesn’t matter what color my skin is. I’ll start putting it on again when we’re a couple of days away. Please?” he begged. Heero hesitated. He didn’t really want to force the allateleion. If something “happened” to paste, it was hardly their fault. The Nachi’s bride could, undoubtedly, get some more of the stuff. No real harm done. His next action surprised even him. He took three of the four tubes in question and dropped them into the garbage disposal. Casually, he started it. A whirring sound and a few other, equally satisfying noises told their fate. “How clumsy of me. I seem to have misplaced some of your skin paste. Well, no help for it, I suppose,” he deadpanned. Duo gave a brilliant smile. “Thank you, Heero. I owe you a favor.” Heero grunted in response. “My fault, anyway, I guess. You didn’t have a problem with it before.” Actually, Duo had never liked the paste, but he didn’t bother to correct Heero. Instead, he directed his conversation in a more interesting direction. “By the way, I read that book you gave me.” “Do you understand how the same actions apply to heterosexual relationships?” Heero asked absently, though his mind was elsewhere, pondering what was to come. “Oh, yes, I got that part. I was just wondering if you have anything else I can read,” Duo said, waving the human’s question away with one now-pale hand. “Yeah, better stuff than that, too. Have you read much human literature?” Heero asked. “Not really. I think there was some sort of human epic I read when I was little. I liked it, but I didn’t really understand it, you know? Too much of a cultural difference, I guess. Good story, though.” Heero beckoned him into the second bunk room. There was a large cabinet in one corner, which he opened to reveal thousands of books, crammed into every available space. “I know it doesn’t take up as much space to just download them, but I like real books. I don’t know why, but it’s just not the same. I do have a few hundred saved on my computer, if you prefer.” “No, this is fine,” Duo said, eyes shining at the prospect of so much reading material. “Do you have a recommendation?” Heero looked over hundreds of titles in a glance, remembering something of each one. At last, his hand hovered over a selection. “This one,” he whispered reverently, pulling out a thick brown book with a worn binding. “There are some good stories here.” “These Are the Odds: A book of short stories,” Duo read aloud, taking the book from Heero. He flipped to the table of contents, idly reading the first few titles. “The Lady or the Tiger. The Outcasts of Poker Flats. Desiree’s Baby. The Yellow Wallpaper. The Garden Statue.” “Everything I know to be true about life, everything I ever questioned about it, is in that book.” That statement opened up a whole new realm of possibility for Duo, one that he’d never considered before. One that he’d never had to consider before. Was it possible to know about other people, simply by studying the things they surround themselves with? Could this book give the average person, one who couldn’t read emotions and desires, an insight into Heero’s soul? His own impressions of Heero were vague at best. His actions were based mostly on instinct rather than conscious thought and, confusingly enough, Heero seemed to shy away from him more often than not. Could he learn something about Heero from this book? He was determined to try, to test the theory. He gave Heero a dazzling smile and shot toward the door, pausing outside long enough to call “Thanks,” more an afterthought than anything, before he was off to his bunk to read. As he opened the cover, he suddenly paused, realizing something was off. He’d never done anything as an afterthought before in his life. Perfect people tend to be rather deliberate, after all. Desires are generally rather firm. He still couldn’t say what it was about Heero, but it was, beyond doubt, the strangest thing Duo had ever experienced. His eyes fell again on the book. With determination, he opened it and began to read. ***** Heero stuck his head into the bunk room. “Hey, Duo, you want to learn how to land this thing?” Duo blinked and laid down the book, which he was reading for at least the fifth time, and still wasn’t sure he understood. “What’s up?” Heero didn’t look pleased as he said, “We’ve been in space for a week now. We have to stop for fuel.” Duo nodded and hopped down from the bunk, following him back to the cockpit. As he ran through the landing sequence, Heero commented, “I always stop at this station for fuel. And there’s a pub nearby that I always visit when I do. I can’t afford to draw attention to us by doing anything out of place. There are people here who would follow me and hijack the shuttle, just to see why I was in such a hurry. I won’t leave you here alone. You’ll have to come along. Are you going to be okay with that?” “If it gets to be too much, I can anchor myself to you by touching you,” Duo suggested hesitantly. “Is that a problem?” Heero probed, sensing Duo’s reluctance to make the suggestion. “N-no, not-- not really,” Duo stammered, cheeks taking on color. Like a human, Heero observed idly. Of course, there really wasn’t that much difference. “Tell me, Duo.” It was an order, and Duo felt he didn’t have a choice. “It’s just that-- the only person I’ve ever anchored to before is the first Nurturer,” he said in a rush. “She-- did not befit her title.” Heero waited, knowing that there was more, afraid to hear it. It took all of his presence of mind to keep from comforting the allateleion, despite the fact that he normally did not touch others. “Everything is so much more open when you touch someone. Their thoughts, their feelings, it’s like stepping inside. She-- she hated me. And she wanted me. Not like in your book, where they liked each other and wanted it to be fun-- she wanted to hurt me. She even thought about-- stealing me and selling me. She had offers, I know. I could even see the people who made them in her mind.” Duo hugged himself, unwilling from his past experience to seek comfort elsewhere. Then he gave a cold smile. “She did hate me. But I hated her, too, and I told her so. I’m not designed to be able to hate people, only to accept them, no matter what, but I held her hand, looked her in the eye and said it.” The smile widened. “She thought it prudent to tender her resignation after that.” “Oh? Someone else heard you, then?” Heero asked. “Only the entire Nachi parliament. I was being presented for inspection, you might say. If they thought I was ready, I would have been put up for auction then. They waited, though, because for me to say I hated her, she either had to want me to, or be a truly despicable creature. Either way, it was obvious she was too depraved to be around me. They kept me to see if I’d suffered any physiological damage from being around her.” “So they decided you’re cured?” Heero asked. “They decided they were running out of time. I need to be Impressed within the next few weeks, or I think I may Impress to whoever happens to be closest at the time when I can’t hold it back anymore.” Duo was just full of surprises. “You can control it?” Heero asked. Somehow, that didn’t seem right. Otherwise, why all of the care about how he was handled? Duo shook his head. “Not really. I can resist the urge to seek out Impression, but if I don’t control the impulse, that doesn’t mean I’ll automatically Impress to the next person I come in contact with. It just means my senses are seeking someone to be Impressed to.” “How--” Heero wasn’t sure why the question made him nervous, but he couldn’t help but ask. “How do you know who, though?” Duo shook his head. “You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve been asked that. It’s-- it’s like trying to explain color to a blind man.” Heero felt a wave of disappointment, but Duo hadn’t given up. “Close your eyes. Sight has nothing to do with it.” Heero closed his eyes as he was told and listened carefully to Duo’s voice. “Now, imagine that everywhere there is a person, there is a color. Some people will be the same color, and the people you really like are jewel tones, bright and beautiful. You’re looking for just one, though, and you’ll know it’s the right color because it smells perfect. And when you brush against the color, it feels…like a crystal clear note.” Heero opened his eyes to see that Duo was perfectly serious about his bewildering description. “What happens next?” Duo looked a little sad as he slid his arms into the jacket that Heero had let him borrow. “I don’t know.”
“Whatever you do,” he instructed, “don’t make eye contact.” “What if I don’t have a choice?” Duo asked. “Then for the stars’ sake, don’t look away first!” Heero exclaimed, his agitation making him impatient. The bad feeling that had dogged him for a week was kicking into overdrive. He had to protect Duo. That was his job, but in a dive like this, it wouldn’t be easy. “Calm down, Heero. It’ll be okay. I’ll be anyone you want me to be, remember?” Duo soothed. For some reason, that didn’t calm Heero down at all. Still, there was no help for it. He entered the bar, glaring at anyone who looked his, or especially Duo’s, way. He led the way to a corner booth, and positioned himself where he could see the door. Duo kept his head down and his mouth, for once, shut. Heero took in the crowd and found it unsavory enough. The one exception was sitting beside the bar, strumming on her instrument. He noted that her back was to the wall and not any of the patrons, too. Her skin was paler than Heero’s, but didn’t have the slightly luminous look that Duo’s did. Her dark hair was cropped off short in the back, for convenience, with long bangs in the front that had a mind of their own. Her chin, despite its delicacy, jutted out in defiance of the universe. She wore light purple, and her eyes were heavily lidded, as though she were concentrating on playing instead of paying attention to her surroundings. Appearances can be deceiving. Heero would bet his shuttle that she could describe him right down his boots. That was what she was trained to do, after all. She looked almost unremarkable, no bright colors or distinguishing marks. Heero knew she possessed an intensity that attracted people to her, but it didn’t show through her sloppy posture and downcast eyes. Heero had been acquainted with her for some time, even helped her out a few times. He was sure that, if it came down to that, she could be counted on to return the favor with the wicked knife she kept on her person at all times. Duo, he noted, had also taken interest in the human woman, or more specifically, in her instrument. “Is that a kelirish?” he breathed. “Is she a Bard?” In truth, it was almost a redundant to ask both questions. Few besides Bards learned the kelirish anymore. This woman played the lyre-like instrument very well, though. Especially considering she only had five short, human fingers, instead of the seven that instrument usually demanded. “It is, and she is. That’s Hilde, and she’s the only person in this whole damn place besides me you might be safe with.” He was pleased to note that Duo seemed to be filing this information away. He suddenly stiffened. Despite the fact that he was sending out glares that could peel the paint off a wall, they were being approached. A fat, balding human with bugged eyes and an oily smile was headed their way. Duo must have felt his approach, because his head jerked up for a moment, and then he looked nauseous. “Excuse me,” he mumbled before standing and hurrying to the bathroom. Heero looked over at Hilde, then glanced from her to the bathroom and back. She nodded almost imperceptibly, and he relaxed some. If it was empty, as she’d indicated, Duo would be better off in there. “Hello, Heero,” the fat man said, sliding down in the seat Duo had just vacated. Heero had to give the man points for his stupidity. It surpassed any he had previously seen. At least maybe it would get him killed before he had a chance to procreate. “Who’s your friend?” the man asked, nodding toward the bathroom. “Hired hand. I need the extra help,” Heero replied shortly. “How much to spend some time with him?” Heero was torn between being more disgusted because of the man himself, or being more disgusted because he thought Heero was enough like him to sell him Duo. “You don’t have that much,” he said coldly. “I suggest you leave my employee alone.” “Oh, come on, Heero,” the man said, wheedling, “Some extra cash never hurts. Name your price. I’ve got it.” Heero rather doubted that, since his own payment for acting as Duo’s escort and bodyguard was only a fraction of what the Nachi’s bride had paid for Duo, and it was still more than a run-of-the-mill spacer, even a crooked one, could expect to make in thirty years. “Not for sale, or even for rent. Leave now and keep your balls. That’s the best deal you’re going to get.” Before more could be said, Duo came back. He obediently did not make eye contact with the greasy man. He slid in the seat by Heero, and immediately latched onto his wrist with one hand. Instead of leaving, the man began talking to Duo, who babbled on about nothing in his unease, his grip on his bodyguard becoming almost painful. What the hell? ‘Shut up, Duo,’ Heero silently willed, but to no avail. A tendril of fear, irrational, sprung up, way down deep, but he suppressed it. Duo was holding onto him. He would know. Was the boy still talking? Heero shot them both an annoyed look, and decided that anyone else who was watching could see that he had a perfectly good reason for leaving without ordering anything. “Come on. There weren’t that many ahead of us. The shuttle should be ready by now,” he said, pushing Duo to his feet and then standing himself. The fat man also got to his feet, blocking their way to the door. Heero led Duo around another table, wanting to insure that the man would leave them alone, but not wanting to cause trouble if he didn’t have to. When they exited, the persistent little bastard was right on their heels. “I’ve tried to be reasonable, but I’m a lonely man.” “Gee, wonder why that is,” Duo muttered. When Heero gave him a look, he shrugged slightly and glanced down at where he was still gripping Heero’s wrist. “What?” “Maybe I’ll have the pleasure of having both of you to keep me company,” the man mused, one finger tapping conspicuously on a supposedly concealed weapon. As though Heero hadn’t noted it on the moment of his approach. “Or maybe you’ll take your last chance on Heero’s offer,” a voice said. There was a faint gleam that indicated that a knife was being held to the balding man’s groin. Hilde stepped in closer, making her presence and her willingness to follow through with the implied threat known. “This isn’t any business of yours, Bard,” he snarled. Hilde smiled at him. “I think that I can decide for myself what is and is not my business, especially since I’m the one who will castrate you if you so much as sneeze.” For a few heartbeats, there was silence. Heero was mentally cursing, wishing for nothing so much as to be on his own space shuttle. He couldn’t abandon Hilde, though, and couldn’t send Duo back by himself, so they all just stood there, waiting to see what would happen next. Pudgy fingers eased away from the weapon. “No hard feelings, lady. If you’re that set against it, that’s fine.” Hilde obviously didn’t trust his response, but neither could she stand there with a blade to his crotch indefinitely. Slowly, she pulled it away. There was a brief flash as light bounced off of it, and then it was gone. The greasy man responded immediately, lunging for Hilde. Heero darted forward to assist her, but Hilde was quite capable of taking care of herself. She dodged the man’s grasp and used his own momentum to propel him violently into the door of the bar, which promptly fell off its hinges and landed on the barroom floor with a clatter. Whether unconscious or simply smarter than Heero had given him credit for, the man didn’t get up. “Shit,” Hilde remarked, eyeing the door. This wasn’t good at all. “Hilde! Don’t you dare come back through that doorway! You know what I told you!” the bartender called. “You told me not to start anything. I didn’t. He started it,” she said, giving the unconscious man a kick in the ribs. “I just finished it.” The bartender didn’t buy it.
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