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"Boys Bad Day"Written By: Kaeru Shisho Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Gundam Wing
or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story. Rating: R Warnings: AU, male/male pairings, language, alternating
povs (sounds a little naughty) Pairings: 1x2 Summary: Duo suffers a very bad day, and Heero's
isn't much better until the two take on one another. "Boys Bad Day"
The moment the door slammed shut, Duo had an infinitesimal moment in which to appreciate the cool breeze that had blown through his open bedroom window and dried the sweat from his brow. A change in the air pressure in his apartment had caused the gust that swung the door closed. Slam! And automatically clicked the lock in place. Snikt! Yup. No amount of twisting the doorknob or plying the lock with his colorful cursing could change the fact that Duo was locked out of his new apartment. He hadn't had the time to procure a duplicate key and stash it in a handy place, like a friend's apartment, since he'd only just arrived and he had no trustworthy neighbors, yet. And if there was a manager or security guard or doorman on the premises, then he hadn't made his acquaintance, yet. He hadn't had a chance to do much socializing, yet. Damn. He was screwed. Normally he kept his keys in a pocket. All his pants had pockets, so it shouldn't have been a problem. But it was. He'd just moved in that day and was dead tired from his red-eyed flight to get to Sanc, getting the cargo movers to deliver his belongings from the shuttle to his apartment that day, which was a weekend, and then coming up short of cash to pay them. That hadn't been part of his plan, but he'd been hit upon by a pickpocket. Oh, he'd caught the kid and gotten his money back, but in doing so he'd run out of a gift shop with a few unpaid items and to restore his good name and avoid meeting the chief of space shuttle security in his new home town he'd paid for the things- and a little more. Bribes didn't come cheap in the Kingdom of Sanc. So, he'd been short of cash, "You don't take creds?", when it came to paying the men delivering his belongings. They dumped his Spartan furniture, his assorted boxes, his bags of clothes in the street outside his building. There was no elevator. It took him hours to lug them up the stairs one chair, one box at a time. Which is why he'd left the last boxes stacked outside his door and ordered a pizza. The pizza delivery guy was cute and smiled invitingly and gave out all the right signals that Duo couldn't have missed had he been blind, deaf, and dumb. And he hadn't had a boyfriend in years so a quickie with the delivery boy just might tip the scales for what had become a really bad day. "Thanks, bud," he said adding a generous tip electronically. The smile he received nearly blew his mind. Oh, yeah. For about ten seconds. "Man, this is cool. I'll take my girl out for drinks and get laid tonight for sure. Thanks!" "Yeah, sure." Disappointment jabbed at his heart with a tiny little pitchfork (make that a scythe for irony) and reminded him of all the little heart-shaped bruises his body bore thanks to love's losses. This distracted him enough so that, while carrying the open pizza box with the gorgeous aroma for melting cheese and spicy red sauce to the up-ended-box-serving-as-a-table, he tripped in a puddle of his own blood, or something that had leaked from a box onto the slick, polished wood floor, landed chest down on the pizza, and smeared his jeans in sauce. He knew from experience that if he didn't soak the clothes quickly, the stains would set and he'd have another set of "painting walls" clothes. Which was why he had taken off his pants to put them to soak in the sink. And his shirt. He heard a jostling of boxes outside his door, dashed out, envisioning someone trying to steal them, and heard the telltale bang of his luck-running-out door. "I am sooo screwed." He heard the click of a door closing, the one across the hall from his, indicating that someone was home. Thinking they might have a wire he could use to short out the electronic lock was his only hope. If only he had his boots on, his boots with the break-in tools sewn into the lining. And his socks. His socks, boots, pants, shirt. He checked out his shorts. Clean-ish and opaque. Well, there was that, at least. He strode up to the neighboring door and knocked before he thought anymore and talked himself out of doing it. He heard voices on the other side of the door. Men's voices. "Heero! There's someone at the door!" "He's in the bathroom." "Someone should answer it." "We didn't order the take out yet." "Oh, for Gods'sakes. I'll get up." Great. An apartment full of strange men and he was dressed to kill in his sweat and underwear. Great. The door opened and there stood a Chinese man, very fit, very handsome, and sporting a stern expression. "What?" "Noticed the, ah, lack of clothes, eh? Well, funny thing about that, um, not so funny, actually. What I need is, beside clothes, is access to my clothes, which is a problem-" "OH!" A very, very cute blond with watery blue eyes popped his head around the Chinese man, pushing him aside. "You should come inside!" "Heero wouldn't like that-" warned the Chinese man. "Nonsense! Come in, come in! I'm Quatre! Now, what happened? What can we do? " "I, ah, Quatre, my door slammed and locked me out. I just moved in today and... Do you have any wire?" "I don't know about finding wire. Trowa! Go get him something of Heero's to wear!" "Oh, that's not necessary, really. Just a wire. I can jigger the electronics, I think, and break in. Well, I know I can, if I had the right tools, but those are in there with my clothes and things and, oh shit, my phone, creds, and computer and my life is on the other side of that damn door and I just need a wire!" He was a wire's width from losing it right then. And then he was tackled from the side, brought to the floor with a full-body slam. His arms wrenched over his head, held in a vise-like grip. He couldn't breathe from the weight of the man on top of him. A man who was strong and built solid like a rock. And crazy! "Get me the restraints!" his attacker yelled. "Over there! Hanging with my jacket!" What had he gotten himself into! Duo really started to panic, but when he saw the sparkle of cuffs, the ring of metal, he shut down the alarms squawking in his head like a flock of geese (another bad-day experience he wanted to forget but couldn't), and focused his attention on getting free. He twisted and squirmed and, curling his legs up between them, pushed and kicked out. Air! After a day and night of stuffy shuttle travel, no shower, followed by a hard day's slaving over boxes in the hot, Earth sun, and no shower, a little air was more than welcome. Snap! "You cuffed me!" Duo screamed as he got his feet under him and hunched into a crouch. "Get these off and I'll consider not arresting you for assaulting a Preventers agent!" He was face to face with the man who'd tackled him, staring directly into a pair of intensely blue eyes framed by tousled brown hair, the face faintly Asian and cut by a wicked smirk. "With hair like that?!" the attractive but unpleasant man said in a tone meant to insult. "Don't make me laugh." Duo laughed. Mr. Cuff-happy, blues eyes didn't. "I said don't make me laugh, idiot!" "It's not all about you-hey! Leggo my hair, asshole!" "Heero! Don't hurt him!" cried out the blond. Heero?! Heero... where had he read that name recently? While Duo processed the name, Heero tugged again on his braid. "You're (tug) no (tug, tug) agent. You're the one breaking into the apartments, you shit head! God, you stink! Chang, have you called the police to come pick this guy up yet?" Combining the braid-pulling and the "you stink" comment lit the fire under Duo. He bounded off the floor, flinging his manacled wrists up and over the messy brown-haired head, and twisted his body so that his chest pressed into the other man's back, Heero's back. With one quick jerk, the cuff links would break his captive's neck. "Ugh!" "Nobody move!" shouted the Chinese man, who, Duo deduced, must be Chang, although it was the tall silent one holding two handguns on him that had Duo's respect at the moment. "Not moving," Duo assured him. But someone else was. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the blond walking up beside him. He seemed perfectly cool, calm, and collected, considering the ruckus leading up to the moment and danger around him. "Wufei, Trowa, put down the artillery." The blond removed a card from Trowa's pocket and held it so Duo could read the lettering. "I presume that you recognize a Preventers ID? These are all agents." Chang Wufei and Trowa Barton. He watched as the blonde- Quatre, Duo reminded himself- placed a hand over his heart and Duo wondered if he was going to swear fidelity to that big Preventers agent in the sky. "And I can tell that you are a good man, probably a desperate one, who accidently found himself locked out of his apartment, and needs a hand getting back in." Quatre smiled, and Duo smiled back. "That's about it," Duo agreed, catching his breath. "Good. I'm Quatre Winner and you must be... Duo Maxwell?" That he had guessed, perfectly, Duo's name on the first try was more amazing than the fact that the two men holding guns on Duo, lowered them when told to. "Ri-ight. How'd you get my name?" "Release Agent Yuy and I'll tell you, and, Heero, please, stand down." Duo felt the man, Heero Yuy, stiffen as he raised his locked wrists over his head. Quatre had turned to radiate his smile, this time, over at the tall man who'd tucked his firearms into his waistband. "Trowa, please bring Duo those sweats. You'll be more comfortable dressed, I'm guessing." Duo nodded slowly and reached out for Heero to unlock the cuffs. "Get these off." He ran the names over in his mind: Quatre Winner, Heero Yuy, Wufei Chang, and Trowa Barton. Most of Preventers' elite special ops team. "This is crazy, Winner," Heero said, but he removed the cuffs. "No, it's not." Quatre carried over his notebook. "If you all had read your weekly newsletter, which we received today, you'd know that a new special ops member was flying in from L2." "You don't look a thing like your picture," Heero said in an accusatory growl. "I don't?" Duo felt at a disadvantage; he hadn't seen the picture Quatre was referring to. "Sorry.' "Agent Maxwell? The Shinigami?" Chang asked in wonder. Duo tightened the drawstring on the sweatpants and rubbed at his reddened wrists. "I thought I'd left that name behind. But, yeah, that be me." This time when there was a knock at the door, there was no argument; Heero pulled out his wallet counting bills at the door. "Duo, you must join us for dinner. Our way of apologizing for all this." Quatre gestured to encompass the room. "Nothing fancy. Chinese takeout?" "I like Chinese." Duo smiled at both Wufei and Heero. One of them had to be at least part Chinese, given the odds based on the number of Chinese descendants out there. "Good! Wonderful! Trowa-?" "I know," the long-suffering man with the veil of bangs ambled away, "bring in another chair. Got it under control." "Um, listen, um, not that I don't appreciate the invite and all, but I would really like to get inside my place. First. Shower?" "Oh, of course!" Quatre cried out. "How rude of us!" "He won't come back," Wufei stated as if he owned the facts. "I will," Duo stated flatly. He hadn't planned to, but just to prove Mr. Attitude wrong he now had to. Rats. No one had an electronic lock break in kit handy. There was Duo's in his room and the others knew where they could get their hands on one back at the office...but... In the following flurry of activity, and Yuy's whining over something, wire was found. Despite Chang and Yuy's grumbling conjoining into a kind of annoying drone in the background, Duo messed with the wire and it sparked twice, once emitting a puff of smoke. "I think you melted the mechanism," Trowa remarked. "You think?" Duo sniped back. He knew he had failed to short it out properly. "It's the new type with cheap thin wiring." "We can break down the door." Heero tested it once alone and shook the walls on both sides of the hallway. "Maybe not." "Trowa, maybe you should drive to the office and locate a break in kit?" Quatre asked. And the poor dude probably would have, had Heero not stopped him. "Don't bother." "Stand back." And before anyone could stop him, Mr. Hot-Shot aimed and fired his gun, blowing a two-inch hole in the door, completely hurling the lock into the next dimension and sending metal fragments flying through the air. "Heero!" "Yuy!" Duo rose up off the floor and flipped the handle. His door creaked open. "Is everyone all right?!" Quatre cried out desperately. "Yeah." "Sure." Duo crawled into his apartment, closing the door behind him with his foot. "At last!" He could hear the muffled murmur of voices receding from outside his door and closed his eyes. He lay on his back on the floor. He hoped the showoff - radiating confidence with the body of a god full of hard muscles and abs to die for - had to explain why a gun had been fired inside a building to the local cops. So over the top. So hot. So stupid! "Get that shower!" He searched for towels, shampoo, soap, shaving tools, collected what he did find, tossed what he found but didn't need, and dumped the essentials on the floor or that bathroom. While letting the water come to temperature, he decided to forget dinner and just crash. With a little high-proof oblivion to still his churning mind, he'd sleep. But his stomach demanded, "Feed me!" Had he packed any drink? Was there some pizza cheese he could scrape off the inside of the delivery box?" (o) Heero started his day badly. He bruised his knee on his night table. Not a big thing, but an irritation that multiplied when he spilled hot tea on the same knee later when a kid texting, oblivious to the world around him, and Heero's presence, ran into him exiting the coffee shop. He returned home to eat his scone, changed his pants to his running clothes, and sprayed stain remover on the tea stained ones. "Laundry...later." His day off shouldn't include housework. He checked his messages one more time. Nothing new. He examined the face pictured on the week's newsletter: ruffled dark hair, hint of smile, young man. A new agent for their team. Why had Zechs thought they needed one more? So they could work in pairs? Heero made a face. If that was so, then this new guy would be his partner on missions. That irritated him. He didn't like partners, especially strangers. This new guy looked like some kid, a newbie for sure, but he'd been wrong about that. He re-scanned the description thoughtfully. The agent was young, his age, and just as decorated, and from a colony just as distant as his. What good would he be here in Sanc? Heero's frown deepened. "I will not babysit a new agent or play tourist guide!" He slammed shut the laptop and steamed a little more before deciding that he shouldn't dwell on work on his day off either. He went for a five mile run, which hadn't been as satisfying as it should have been so he'd cut it short. The sun had been a little too hot, the air a little too humid, so he pumped up his bike tires and rode out for a fifty mile spin. Kevlar tires meant he'd have no blowouts, the fully enclosed chain guard minimized the chain maintenance, and he'd just had it professionally lubed and cleaned. His expectations for a thorough workout were high. The bike path was a good one, well-traveled for the first ten miles, and he rocketed down the roadway. He hadn't expected the pothole. Suddenly he heard a noise. TWANGGG! The front wheel went all wobbly. "Now what?!" He got off the bike and inspected the wheel. A broken spoke flopped around. "Wonderful," he said, not meaning it at all. He unscrewed the shaft from the nipple and removed it completely so it couldn't entangle with the frame or chain, and then called one of his friends for advice. "Stop laughing, Barton, and just tell me if I can ride with a broken spoke." "You're okay to ride it a bit longer to get home, but you don't want to continue another forty miles if you can help it." "Oh. Fine. Thanks." "If you want, I can meet you at the cycle shop and give you a lift home." "No. That's all right. I need the walk." His ride to the shop was at a more conservative speed, completely ineffective for getting his endorphins going. Fortunately the fix was simple and took the local bike shop just a couple of minutes to replace the spoke, and since it only cost him a couple bucks, so he had enough left over for lunch. Having to order a glass of water and not have it automatically delivered was just plain poor service, he thought. The Asian salad he ordered failed to please as well. They were out of bean sprouts "How can you be out of bean sprouts?" he asked sensibly. Bean sprouts?! The staple of Asian food restaurants?! "We can substitute with bok choy." Gak! Substitute their good taste, their pride? He almost walked the three blocks to the upscale organic market to buy some sprouts, just to spite the restaurant, but it wasn't worth it. No one really cared that much except him. Late that afternoon, he arrived back at his complex, and was immediately annoyed by a horrid buzzing sound. He'd first heard the Annoying Buzz half a block away. The glass door was propped open with a box- someone moving in, apparently-and the buzz trilled on and on. He reached up and found the turn-off for the alarm. "Idiot should have done that." He included the person moving in and the manager in that insult, even though it was the manager's day off. "Where's the door man?" "Inconsiderate idiot," he embellished. How could the new dweller not have known to switch it off? He scanned the street scene, catching sight of a double-parked delivery truck attempting to pull into a too-small parking slot. "Good luck with that," he muttered. He nearly let the door close behind him, catching it just in time to nudge the box back in place. But should he do that? He wasn't concerned for his safety, but there had been a string of break-ins in the complex. Leaving it open was just begging for someone to walk in and rob them blind. "Another problem." Out came his phone and he tapped out the starting number for the manager, when the security guard-slash-doorman appeared from a room, zipping his pants. Heero let his glare cover what he had to say. "Bathroom break!" the guard said defensively. "I turned off the alarm," Heero informed him then left. "Incompetents everywhere." He marched into his apartment and headed directly for the kitchen. His friends weren't expected for hours yet. Why had he invited them tonight anyway? In his current mood a turn at a punching bag would do him more good than socializing. He grabbed an apple and took a bite. It was over ripe and mushy, which he detested, but he needed the calories so he bit, chewed, and swallowed without tasting. Before he hosted anyone in his home, he should shower. Then what would he do until they arrived? He had time for a work out in the exercise room. Filling his water bottle, changing from his bike-peddle-hugging shoes to his aerobic supportive ones, and collecting a towel took another five minutes, or would have had he not broken a shoelace and had to feed a new one through the tired, worn holes of the shoes first. "Stupid things should be made of unbreakable materials," he snapped and then he was dashing down the stairs to the basement. Not only was it his day off, it was a day off for everyone else in the building, or so it seemed, because most of them were doing what he wanted to do. What a waste of good equipment, he thought, as he stared down the user of an elliptical. A full minute of intense focus and the girl gave up the machine to him. He worked out for an unproductive hour. He required two hours to work up a sweat, but someone brought music for their work out, and he knew from experience that what began as just the annoyance of a music background would soon grow into lycra-clad aerobics class. Too many untrained people hogging the space and bombarding the air with strident music. This was why he almost never came down here on the weekend. This was why he liked to work weekends. This was why he was in a bad mood when his friends showed up earlier than scheduled. He opened his door unsure who to expect when he answered the knock on his door. No one had buzzed him from the main entrance, which might have meant that the moving was still going on and it was still wedged open. That reminded him to go down later and re-engage the door alarm; something the security man probably wouldn't think of, the incompetent idiot. It could be a neighbor. Once a little clump of girls sold him cookies. People were home from work. He had heard foot traffic in the hall outside his door since he'd returned from the basement gym. He opened the door wide, sure of his ability to fend off anyone. His three best friends stood there. "You're early." "Are you letting us in?" Wufei asked. "Hi, Heero," Quatre greeted him. "We didn't actually set a fixed time." "I'm taking a shower." Heero announced this, stopping himself just in time from walking into the linen closet. "That's okay," his blond friend said in an unconcerned manner. "We brought some cards. We'll entertain ourselves." Trowa fought back a smile. "All bets are off." If all bets were off, then agreements that had been made no longer applied-like showing up at the time Heero confidently knew he'd established. He knew his friend was making a joke, though. With Trowa's perfect poker face and knowledge of card tricks, no one wanted to play betting game with him. "Just go bathe!" I will! Heero left the other three to their card game and took a quick shower. As he dressed, he heard another voice in his front room, a voice he didn't recognize, speaking quickly. What he caught disturbed him: "... I can jigger the electronics... break in..." The apartment's burglar! "...I know I can, if I had the right tools... and I just need a wire!" Heero shot out of his room, took one look at the wild-eyed, near-naked (God, he's hot!) intruder, who had no clue he was being targeted, and dove, hitting low with a rewarding smack and knocking to the floor a young man. Close up, he saw pale skin, and a lot of it, over a slender but wiry young man. With practiced moves honed by training, Heero had the man incapacitated and a vise-grip on both wrists. "Get me the restraints," he shouted to Wufei, who was closest. Damn, are you blind! "Over there! Hanging with my jacket!" Then the stranger fought back and was good. Impressed, Heero no longer held back. He outweighed the long-haired man and was the best of the best Preventers special ops team. He should be able to handle this twerp one-handed. He did, using his free hand to clamp on the manacles. "Get these off and I'll consider not arresting you for assaulting a Preventers agent!" Oh, please. "With hair like that?! Don't make me laugh." The creep laughed. How dare he laugh at him! "I said ME!" He grabbed at the ridiculously long braid, knowing he could secure him in place with that alone. "Heero! Don't hurt him!" cried out Quatre. Soft-hearted idiot! And then a blur and that maniac had Heero in a headlock! Yuy couldn't believe it. The crazy man with the huge eyes and ridiculously long hair was a fellow agent! The new one he'd read about, forewarned of in his e-mail, not that he looked anything like that unflattering picture. "Duo Maxwell?" Heero grumbled. Duo growled some acknowledgment of his identifier and the two pulled apart then suddenly he was in his face again demanding, "Get these off!" "This is crazy, Winner," Heero said, but he removed the cuffs. "Agent Maxwell? The Shinigami?" Chang asked in wonder. Wonder and AWE. Heero translated the name and smirked. "God of Death, no less," but it was to the man's back as he pulled on a pair of sweat pants, and he didn't catch his snappy rejoinder, because Heero was sure Duo was the type to always have a clever comeback. Once again, as if he hadn't been in close enough proximity already, the idiot reappeared in front of him, dressed now (In Heero's clothes!) smiling like he owned the place. "I like Chinese." No, you don't. Heero wheeled around, to gape at his insane friends. They had invited the crazy man to dinner? At his apartment? No one had asked his approval and it was all decided! "Winner, what are you doing in my kitchen?" "Finding wire. Here's some!" "That's part of... something important!" No one listened to Heero's comments, though. Everyone was gathering outside the room across from his... Oh no! The crazy man who called himself the God of Death, with the fine muscled chest and who wore his shiny, brown hair in a yard-long braid, was going to be his neighbor?! "Can this day get any worse?" Now what was he doing? "That won't work!" Smoke! Heero fanned away the few wisps and opened a window. "You'll set off the fire alarm." Wufei held up a battery and shook his head. "Disarmed already." Heero knew shorting out the lock wouldn't work. He could have told them so, had anyone simply asked him. "We can break down the door." Heero tested it once alone and shook the walls on both sides of the hallway. "Maybe not." Winner was about to send Trowa out for a break-in kit, but Heero put a stop to that. "Don't bother." He could take care of this once and for all. Get it over with. Get that crazy man (with the smoldering hot body) into his apartment and close the door on the entire problem! He did warn everyone before firing his gun and sending a bullet right through the lock and the door, to embed itself someplace in the wall beyond. Why were they so excited? "Is everyone all right?!" Quatre cried out desperately. Of course they were, Heero thought. "Babies all," he said and marched back to his apartment. You'd think they didn't shoot guns every day! He was not alone in his apartment. He was surrounded by his friends again. "You know he won't come back unless you go over and apologize," Quatre told him. The "he" in question being Duo Maxwell, of course. "Apologize for what?" Heero asked feeling mulish. His nosy friend stepped closer and looked him up and down with a keen eye. "You seemed more wired than usual. Are you taking drugs?" "What? No! I just... had a bad day." "We'll be working with the man," Trowa reminded him, "and you cuffed him like a criminal. A waste." "Hn." "Don't make us recapitulate what just happened, Yuy," Wufei snapped. "Just go!" He brushed him aside with a gesture that included pulling out his phone. "I'm ordering two more dishes now. Return with him, post shower, by the time it arrives." There was no use arguing with the united front of friends, unless he planned to get new friends. He'd made some assumptions about the stranger, which turned out to be wrong no matter how justifiable they were- that was all! "All right." Heero knocked and heard a noise, so he pushed open the ruined door and stepped inside. "Hello?" No answer, only the rush of water. "With all that hair, he'll be there for an hour." He turned to leave Duo to his devices, in peace, when he noticed the boxes still stacked outside the door. "Those would be safer inside." He dragged the boxes into the room, and noticed the quiet. The water had been shut off. He stood staring in the direction of the bathroom, assuming the layout was a mirror image of his own apartment, and wondered whether it was best to call out again and reveal his presence, or wait. The pros and cons balanced, so taking the path of least resistance, he sat on a box and waited. When he heard the sounds of someone opening a door and his footsteps, Heero leaned over and knocked on the wall while announcing, "Agent Maxwell? It's Agent Yuy... ah... Heero... from... across the ... hall." Dear God! The man had a ton of hair! He watched a trickle of water run a path down the other man's tight abs. His mouth went dry and his eyes traiedl down the perfect torso, right down to the narrow hips off of which hung his grey sweatpants with the Preventers logo half torn off from the time it caught in a weight machine. "Ahem." Duo cleared his throat. Heero looked up and met Duo's eyes. He frowned and ran a hand over his cloth-covered thigh. "I'll give these back as soon as I unpack, which could be now if you insist." "Ah," Heero couldn't speak when he tried the first time. "No....no... keep them... May I have a glass of water?" "Sure. There's a glass here someplace. Don'tcha have water of your own? Just askin'." "I do. It's... crowded over there right now." "They're your friends." "And my team mates. It's -" "A little commingled?" "Yeah, that's better than the word I was thinking of," Heero said ruefully. "Oh heh, heh...incestuous," he guessed correctly. "I same over to apologize for earlier." Heero figured that should cover for all his transgressions, whatever they were, and gestured at the boxes. "And I brought these in. They were stacked in the hall." "Oh, thanks. Ah, I guess you're a little jumpy about strangers in your apartment?" "There's been a few reports of missing items, a robber in the building, which is what I'd thought I was catching when I caught you. A series of bad assumptions." "Uh, huh. You know what they say about assumptions," Duo asked not pausing long enough for an answer, "They make an ass out of you and umption." Heero smiled and looked down at his feet. He was wearing socks, but no shoes. He insisted everyone remove their shoes at his door, and did the same when visiting. The color of the stripes on his socks didn't match. "Um, sorry." This time he meant it, for...whatever. Looking up, he noticed Duo was busy checking his cartons. He scanned barcodes, using his recovered handheld device to read off the packing list from the shuttle. "Right. Hmmm." "Problem?" Heero asked, wondering what he was going to be blamed for this time. "Short one box." "It's not in the hall," Heero assured him. "Huh. I'm pretty sure I didn't leave any on the street, though, it'd be too bad if I did. Let's see... using the tracking device inside... Got it! It's in the building. A floor down." "That's not good." "No shit." "I am sorry. If I hurt you-" "Eh!" Duo gestured to him to shut up. He seemed wholly absorbed by the mystery of his missing box and locating it, more so than in appeasing Heero's feelings. "No harm, no foul. Call it history, all right? Wanna give me a hand getting my carton back? Call it even?" "Absolutely." Actions would speak louder than words, especially his, apparently, feeble ones. "I have a plan. Do you have any envelopes? Real mail?" "Ah, I guess." Duo opened a box and removed a stack of paper files. "Records... yeah, here's something from a lawyer." He upturned a couple envelopes into the file and handed Heero the empty covers. "That okay?" Heero couldn't help but examine the addresses. "Something amiss?" Duo asked, putting emphasis on the last syllable. "No. I had a mission on L2, but not this sector. I was curious if we'd ever crossed paths before." "No, I'da remembered you. Ready to do this?" Heero nodded and stepped into the hall. "I'd like to lock up, but this will have to do," Duo said. He cracked open a box and removed a handful of small items. "I'll have that fixed." Heero watched him set up a couple motion-detector alarms on his door, exactly as he would himself. "Yep. Okay down one floor in about two doors." With a nod, Heero fell in behind the other man. "I wouldn't make such a big deal out of this, ordinarily, but that box has something pretty special to me in it." Curious, Heero had to ask, "What?" "Games. All my gaming stuff and some really old games I can't replace, you know? Sounds kinda lame-" "No, it doesn't," Heero assured him. "Clothes, dishes, who cares? But games? I agree." "Cool." "This is it." Duo stepped to one side and Heero took his cue and knocked. If someone was in and saw Duo, who knows what he'd do? Heero might be recognized as just another apartment dweller. Footsteps and then, "Yeah?" "I got your mail by mistake, room 334." Heero flipped the backside of the envelopes at the peephole and waited. Duo nodded, satisfied with the ruse. Maybe even impressed. When the door opened, "I'll take it", Duo pushed past and entered. "Hey!" The room was cluttered with hundreds of boxes, overflowing with merchandise, jewelry, and stench. Neither agent let it distract them from their mission. Duo waved his hand and the transmitter flashed and beeped. He pointed at a box. "That's mine. See the tag? Shuttle bay 5 from L2. You ain't from L2, bub." Before the thief took a step toward the exit, Heero had him in a headlock. "Cell. Right front pocket," he told Duo. "Punch 'send9' to get the local police." Duo complied, grinning as he removed Heero's phone with elaborate care, "a delicate operation here, heh, heh," in order to avoid intimate contact. Were his jeans that tight, Heero wondered? They seemed to be getting snugger now... To the culprit he was holding he said, "I've been curious who'd been robbing the complex here." He ignored the rambling denial and whining of the man, letting Duo finish the call and check the contents of his box. He looked up and smiled, relieved. "It's all here!" "Good." Heero put everything he felt into that word. He felt good. He felt good that Duo got his treasures back, intact. He felt really good about the way Duo was looking him over. "I should go downstairs and bring the police up here. That guard at the door is... um-" Duo seemed to be considering a kind way to put it. "-Inadequate." "Yeah, to begin with." Oooh, they shared another moment of what could be the start of something good. Building camaraderie. Heero felt a grin stretch across his face to match the one he was enjoying on the other man's face-Duo's, not the burglar's face. He wasn't smiling at all. "You're okay with him, alone?" "No problem," Heero assured him. (o) When Duo returned, he was carrying a large bag with Chin's Take Out printed in red on the outside. "I think the doorman was gonna keep it because one order already went up," he whispered to Heero, "So I took it. Hope your buddies understand." "They will." Heero exchanged positions with a policeman and glanced down at his cell. "Quatre says they are tired of waiting and are eating the first order without us." The police took his statement and Heero's. There were crates of stolen, probably, things stacked all over the room for the investigators to study. Duo wanted just one. "That's my stuff. I just want the contents. I'll run over the box with its label for evidence, if you need it," Duo said. Heero flashed his badge and convinced them to allow Duo to keep the contents of his box. There was plenty of other evidence to collect and they had the tracking numbers on the shuttle shipment. "You've done us a favor, here, resolving this," one man said. "Go ahead, but save the carton." Pleased to have an open case cracked, the policemen departed in good spirits and carried away the suspect. Heero checked his messages again. "I guess you got stuff to do," Duo said. "No, I don't. Just... another message from Quatre wondering what's keeping us, but this one also informed me that Zechs had just joined them." "Oh? What fun!" Duo couldn't put any enthusiasm into his voice. He was not up to socializing with the team after the tough day. He toed his box, evaluating its weight and considering whether or not he wanted to wrestle with it. Heero decided that for him. Heero hefted the heavy carton to one shoulder. "Shall we go?" "Show off." Heero opened his mouth to deny it, truth though it be, but Duo shot him a smile and watched as a blush spread up the other man's neck, deepening across his high cheekbones, and disappearing beneath the mussy-brown bangs. He chuckled and was pleased and relieved when Heero joined him, even though Duo thought he was trying a little too hard to sound casual. "This is nothing." Duo's put to use his natural talent for putting people at ease. "I'm starving. Did I tell you about wearing my dinner?" He explained about the pizza incident, leading to why he hadn't been dressed earlier. Shaking his head, Heero commiserated in silence with him, blushing incident pushed to the past, which had been Duo's purpose. He couldn't help himself from wanting to like this fellow agent, attracted like crazy to him physically, and wanting to make him a friend, despite their rocky start. After depositing the carton to join the others, Duo wondered if he was ready to join his future team mates, Heero's friends, across the hall. He felt unenthusiastic, but hungry. To be totally honest with himself, he just wanted Heero to himself. "They are having a party in my apartment. Let's not go there." Yay! "Okay, but there's not much atmosphere in here." Duo indicated his box-filled room. "I know a place on the roof." His smile faltered. He felt bone-weary. "Can we take the elevator?" "Of course. It's been a long day." On the way up, Duo wanted to clear the air. The other man didn't seem to be the talkative sort, but he hated to let uncomfortable things brew into worse things. So, Duo began, "No hard feelings." "I'm glad to hear that. It's bad enough that the man with oversight of the special ops is Chang's boyfriend." "Merquise? No kidding? Huh. So... Quatre and Trowa?" "A couple in private life? Yes." "Oh. Yeah, they seemed connected, ya know?" "They are." "They got that team gestalt." His face turned thoughtful a second and then a frown darkened his expression. "You don't think I was picked to ah... you know...?" "Pair with me? The thought crossed my mind." "Hmm." Duo seemed to be thinking things over. "Do you mind?" "I did. Now, not so much. You?" Duo smile widened into a beautiful grin, his eyes twinkled. "No, now that I know there's no rule against sleeping with your partner." If getting a reaction had been his aim, he hit the target right on. The unusual Asian-blue eyes widened to take in what he'd said and then the color drained for a second, only to rush back with flush of blood as he absorbed Duo's intended meaning. Duo had to admire the man's self-control, though. He watched Heero quickly composed himself and, even if he wanted to say something else, what Heero said was, "We can do laundry together tomorrow, if you'd like?" "Heh, heh... yeah, let's see how our underwear comingles first, eh?" Duo liked the blushes he could bring to Heero's face. He was ready to imagine more. And both Duo and Heero's bad day got a whole lot better after that. The End
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