"Just Ducky"

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: NC 17

Warnings: AU, male/male pairings, language

Pairings: 1x2, 3x4

Summary: When Trowa Barton and Wufei Chang adjust to college life, Duo Maxwell and Heero Yuy learn to balance work with their changing relationships.

A/N: My deepest thanks go to the kindness of Snowdragon and WaterLily for editing and encouraging me.

"Just Ducky "

Chapter 3 -Misunderstanding

"When God throws a curve ball don't duck-- you just might miss something." --from the movie Extreme Days

I worked like a dog and surprise, the boss threw me a bone, a meaty one promising more pay and tips. Ole' Jet, Mister Barr, with the perfect teeth, promoted me to a sleek, sophisticated uptown restaurant. I wasn't to start until next week, which was okay because finishing out at the local sandwich shop meant I still had my daytime hours, and the fancy place had a longer commute time.

I was so-so with moving on. There was something about my boss that didn't sit well with me. It was in his shifty eyes, and the unsaid words. I wasn't good at reading between the lines, but "snake oil salesman" came to mind when I was around him. I wasn't about to turn down better pay, 'cause it would allow me to say I was picking up a few jobs—real jobs. The fact that there'd be fewer chances to run into Trowa or Wufei and spoiling the whole ruse made it okay, too. I still hadn't gotten a single call back from any of my "sure-fire" bets. Plumber, security, grease monkey—all nada.

If I'd had a better offer, I would have quit on the spot.

So while I was counting the minutes slingin' hash with Matt the drip, Tro' and 'Fei graced the big U classes with their presence and hunkered down to study. I guess the exciting classes were to come after getting the boring basic stuff outta the way; at least, that's what I took from their complaining, and there were virtual crap heaps of it.

The weekend came with a mixed-blessing in camouflage. All the way home, I was mulling over my situation, frustrated with having to work for a creep, being at his beck and call, doing a job I was growing to hate. I wasn't feeling good about hiding what I did from Trowa, but having gotten myself into the mess, I didn't know how to get out. I kept hoping something great would come up and then I could move on and everything would be fine.

But, now I'd have to explain working evening hours and longer hours at the made upgarage where I pretended to be employed. Ugh! I never use to lie to friends or anyone I cared about. I really didn't want to do anything but fall into Trowa's arms and forget for awhile.

So, feeling frayed at the edges and greasy from work, I hopped off the bus, walked to the condo building, and, lo and behold, there was Yuy chatting up, or interrogating, the security detail and not blending into the marble, onyx, and brushed nickel interior of the commons. Dressed in a black, abs-hugging, 2xist Optic tank top and baggy camouflage pants with thousands of pockets, he looked hot. I wondered if he wore Diesel briefs and then thought about scratching my eyes out.

Heero said, "I've come for a visit," which I thought would really blow.

"Oh."

"Chang."

Oh, yeah. 'Ro and 'Fei were a couple. How could I forget? I didn't say that oozing with sarcasm, though, I just smiled in my friendly way. "Cool. 'Fei's in class till six."

"I know. My flight was on time, the line at the car rental agency was negligible and my car was ready, the route was direct, no traffic, no accidents, and I secured a convenient parking space."

Translation: he was early.

"Oh. So, wanna chill with Tro' and me...then?" I asked, absolutely sure he'd say "no" because he had a contingency plan for his "earliness" problem.

"Okay." He picked up a khaki shirt and an urban sport duffle at his feet, muscles rippling across his back, down his arms all the way to his fingertips, and stalked over to the elevator.

Well, shitola. I wanted Trowa to myself! And now I felt guilty. I couldn't help looking and feeling attracted to him. I was only human, but I wasn't about to jump him or anything remotely like that.

This was Heero, I reminded myself. Baked Alaska—hot on the outside, frozen on the inside. To. The. Core.

Here I thought I'd get a little private one-on-one lovin' action with my boyfriend, but instead I was delivering the chill factor into the equation. Trowa was going to be so happy, too, when we walked into our place to find Heero Yuy in tow.

Or, he would have been had he been home.

"He didn't call you?" Heero sounded as if he was accusing me of keeping things from him, either that or was trying to learn how our relationship worked.

"Ah, maybe, but I can't take calls at work so my cell was off."

"Did he leave you a message?"

"Ah, maybe." But seeing as you shot my brain already weakened by da boss man...

Checking, I found one message: "Discushun B late but not 2 late." That first word looked funny, but I figured Trowa was rushed or not good at single-finger typing.

"Looks like it'll be just you an' me for a bit. Tro's been suckered into a class chat group so he'll be late. I, ah, just got off work."

"I see."

He sees and yet he still stays.

"I'm taking a shower, ah, work and all. There's drink in the fridge. Feel free," I said and won my fight not to add aloud, to go.

"Yeah, I'll get something. Thanks."

For nothin', bro. I didn't really hate the guy. I was just in a foul mood and needing alone time and totally unable to play host. My hope was that I'd take this long hot shower, mess with my hair, dress, and come out to find a Heero-less living room. "Give me strength."

Sister Helen used to say that a lot when she'd hold me. At first I thought she was asking God to make her stronger because I was such a big kid. Silly me. I figured out she was asking God for the strength of character not to throw me out on my ear for being such a spunky little trouble-maker. Loved her and she really did love me, too.

That's what I was asking God for, sorta-- the strength to throw Heero out on his ear. That would have been so cool.

But I didn't because when I came out of the bedroom all shiny and clean, not only was Heero still there, so was my beloved and he wouldn't have let me throw Heero out on his ear. Not when he could throw him out on his ass.

Ah, Tro' wouldn't do that. I just wanted to hit something. My boss's nose would be good, but Heero ass... er... ear was handier to fantasize about.

"I was hoping to make it in for a haircut, but my place was fully scheduled before I left," Yuy was saying.

"Yeah," Trowa said, fingering the hair at the back of his neck. "I could use a trim. It's been weeks and neither Chang nor Duo, well, you know."

That set Heero to chuckling since, of course, 'Fei and I didn't get haircuts. I watched Trowa's strong hands test the length of the curls. I kinda liked those curls getting long in back, but I certainly didn't tell him that! Obviously he liked it short or he wouldn't go to the trouble to keep it that way. If I told him I liked it longer then he would be torn-- do what he wanted or try to please me. I would not manipulate him or try to change him. Love him as he was—that was my motto.

"Hey," I greeted them as jolly as can be.

"Want your bangs trimmed?" he asked me.

"Nope!" I said. "I can do it myself."

"Suit yourself."

"Always do."

"Good," he said. And I know he meant that, too. "Then I'll take Yuy around the corner where I go. We'll meet Chang and you later for dinner?"

"Sure." I was too stunned to say more—my boyfriend and 'Ro hanging out at the hair dressers?

Trowa kissed me as he passed by with a, "smell good," and then they were gone.

Well, gee. Now I had nothing to do. To kill time, I shaved, re-plaited my hair, and finished off a piece of pie with a can of soda. I had drifted off to sleep when my cell buzzed. It was Trowa's id, so I picked up with, "Whatsup, Sweetlips?"

"Um, heh, we were thinking of that sandwich shop not far away?"

Oh, no, not there. "Closed for dinner," I told him. Whew, that was where I worked-- had last worked. No good going there. "What about Marios'?"

"That's good. Okay. Chang just called and he's on his way, so you wanna collect him?"

"Yeah. Want me to tell 'Fei where we're eating?"

"No, let Yuy do that. Any excuse to call him, and all, you know?"

"Yeah." I liked hearing the voice of the one I loved, too, so I hung on and we chatted for the next ten minutes.

Wufei joined me outside his door ten minutes later, dropped off his stuff, and then walked to Mario's. "Not my first choice," he told me.

I knew that, but I liked the place. Gotta love 'Fei. Not even a tiny little effort to be polite and agreeable. Well, it was 'Ro's first visit to Wufei since classes started, maybe he was suffering from nerves about seeing Heero again. I liked thinking that someone besides me was suffering tonight.

In spite of the Asian taste buds rejecting the Italian spices, we all had a fun evening. Dinner was good, the outdoor seating comfortable, and the conversation mature for a change. Wufei and Trowa described classes, the professors, and the other students, while I watched Heero grow more uncomfortable. He and I shared the burden of the work world. Our days were built around routine, his certainly dangerous, while the school boys had to adapt to a constantly varying set of demands. When it came my turn to describe work, I deftly switched topics. Heero and Wufei were wrapped up in one another and Trowa and Wufei were so full of university stuff that no one really tried to press me anyway.

This time I was lucky that my boyfriend had so much on his plate that he didn't pry into how I spent my time. "So, what did ya think of our place, 'Ro?" I asked.

"Colorful," Heero said with surprising tact. "A touch more Winner than I prefer."

"Well, he did lend a—"

"Ab-so-luute-ly," Wufei agreed, trotting over my sentence with his well-enunciated word. "Exactly what I thought. Their place is like a brothel, oh you know what I mean, one of those Arab harem hotels. Mine, on the other hand, is very serene, masculine, and subdued."

Yuy practically melted. His smoldering eyes bored into Wufei's. "I'd like to see it."

I even felt a little sorry for him when he next told us that his sabbatical had been denied. His reassignment Earthside, to the same place as Wufei, Sanc, had been denied. He only had the weekend and then he'd have to shuttle back to the colony until he could get clearance and steal another couple days. That really was sad for him and Wufei.

I think it was then that the tide turned and I started liking this starry-eyed, vulnerable, and undeniably sex-crazed Heero Yuy. I didn't know if 'Ro and I would ever be close friends, not after being hurt by him as badly as I'd been, but I could be in the same room with him and not feel like punching in his face.

The next day we all didn't get together until after lunch. We met up with them in the condo gym, working out and looking very, very good and very, very happy. This time I invited them to sample my cooking for dinner. Wufei promised to bring some movies and then Trowa went upstairs to study while I went shopping.

The change of seasons on earth is just phenomenal in every sense of the word. It's like no other place in the universe. This was the autumn. Fall—as in leaves fell off trees. The air smelled spicy. Crisp leaves no longer green but yellow, orange, and red collected in windswept piles. The light hours were shorter and the night's cooler, but the best thing I discovered about fall were blackberries.

I'd never had berries before and the smell coming from the little crates the vendors sold them in was amazing. Twelve crates fit inside a cardboard holder, a flat, which looked like enough to fill the pilot's compartment in a Gundam. One grocer handed me a card with a recipe typed out for Blackberry Cobbler, and it sounded like sex for my taste buds. I bought a flat of berries along with the butter and vegetables I needed for dinner, and then dashed home to cook.

Dinner that night was extraordinary. They all lapped up my rice and curry dish and died over the berry cobbler. We had seconds and third helpings with ice cream while we watched the movie, and it was fun. I think it was the happiest I'd been since we moved to Sanc. I was home. This was home. And these were my best friends. And Berry Cobbler would have to get made again.

The next day Heero left early. He gave me a hug, then embraced Trowa, whispering something I couldn't make out, then walked out to his car with Wufei. I felt sad about his leaving and 'Fei looked devastated.

"What did he say to ya?" I asked Trowa.

"He told me I was a lucky guy." He smiled and pulled me into our house and closed the door. "And I am."

(o)

Adolph's. Waiting on rich folks had its ups and downs. The tips were fabulous, no doubt about it. The work itself wasn't much different, although I had to practice opening bottles of wine and champagne—never done that with panache, in fact, I never did anything with uptown airs, and now I had to learn to be as elegant as the restaurant pretended to be.

Mistakes I covered with my handy charm and cock-sure attitude, mostly. And I had a uniform: pressed, black slacks, pristine, crisp white shirt, and fortunately wine-red apron. I talked them into giving me a locker to store my clothes and I had to get there early to change, cutting more deeply into my off-time. Sometimes, I wondered if it was worth the trouble.

Especially about two weeks into the new job. I wished the troop of men in dark suits just entering with the maître d' would continue across the room over to that big table over there, not one of mine, but they chose my area. Just my luck.

Everyone with ties to OZ, White Fang, or Romefeller did not just evaporate after losing the war. They reinvented their companies, mutually self-supporting, and to stay in shape I can tell you they go out to eat and drink a lot. I guessed who they had been before I heard the accents when I took their drink order. I'd seen and killed enough of them to know their unique stink.

In spite of my revulsion, I did my job. I smiled politely and committed each and every absurd drink to memory. "Very good. I'll be right back with those." And then I was certain one of them touched me. My braid, sliding down my thigh. Like the professional I pretended to be, I shook off the reaction to spin around and break those fingers. I let it go, pretending I'd felt nothing.

"Two scotch neat, one gimlet with Dewar's, bourbon with soda, and an Old Fashioned. And can you drop a poison pill in that?"

The barkeep, Phil, snorted. "Sticky fingers or loose tongue?"

"Fingers, so far. God, I hate those perverted OZ motherfuckers."

"Here, drink this and cool off before you go back out there and say something you'll regret," he warned me.

I took the ice water and drank it down.

"Filth like them? You don't need their respect. Just brings you down to their level."

Funny it did help chill my temper and so did Phil's commiseration. "Thanks."

I waited for him to tend to my order and then filled a tray with the glasses. I carried the drinks to the table and handed them around before tucking the tray under an arm and pulling a notepad and pencil from my apron pocket. "Would you like me to go over the specials again or are you ready to order?"

The thick blond with the buzzcut, lantern jaw, and ex-military bearing had the nerve to drag me to his chair and into his lap. I really should have been expecting that, but he caught me off balance. "I want an order of you, to go."

His compatriots roared with laughter. I pushed off, jumping to my feet. "Please choose from the menu. Sir."

What happened next was kind of a blur. He crammed something into my back pocket and combined manhandling with inappropriate groping and vivid suggestiveness. I swung at him and connected as a couple of his thug friends grappled with my arms. When one of them chose to wrap my braid around their arm and drag me practically to the floor, I stopped being nice. And when I was done there may have been a bloody nose and bruised ribs, but there absolutely was one royally bent out of shape waiter.

Phil helped me to my feet while a couple other waiters dealt with the perverts at the table. "Why don'tchu take the rest of the night off, eh?"

"Yeah, ah, sure." I was halfway down the block before I remembered I had to go back and get my street clothes I'd left in my locker. Phil met me just inside the door, bag in hand. "Maxie, I'm so sorry. I'll talk to da boss an' straighten it all out. Wasn't your fault."

"Thanks," I said taking the bag. Inside were all my things. Phil was great. It struck me on the bus home that I probably looked a mess. I know my lip was busted open; I could taste the blood. I was really looking forward to getting home and having Trowa to hold and commiserate with. I would probably lose the job once da boss man got wind of what happened, and I'd have to start all over job hunting. Tro'd understand that I had to defend myself and he wouldn't like other men touching me so he'd sympathize. I really wanted his strong arms around me telling me everything would be okay and that I'd done okay.

I was happy to be going home early, too. Our evenings had been our together time and I'd hated having to shave precious minutes off our time. And... he wasn't home, yet. So, I chilled in the shower and then sat and looked out the window. At the stars, or where they would be if the city lights didn't light up the sky. I didn't feel like a loser, but I was one.

(o)

I didn't lose my job right away. I kept at it until the end of the pay period and then da boss called me in for de paycheck about an hour into my shift and canned me. I guess the OZ dickheads complained about me and they were high rollers with BIG money and I was just a little scooter with itty-bitty money, so my loss.

"I do know how you can make, well, not a comfortable living exactly, and certainly not a decent one, but--" Barr said. And then he made his move on me. Was I wearing a "cheap fag" sign or something?

He was a big man, but I was a clever street rat at heart and squirmed outta his grip after belting him in the gut. Somehow, I still had the presence of mind to stop before I killed him. I cleared out my locker and ran out, thinking I had to see Trowa, I just had to! I needed to feel his arms around me, his reassurance that I was worth something, meant something important to him. I needed him.

I ran home nearly all the way. If it hadn't been earth with its damn extra gravity, I would have made it running full tilt.

As I opened the condo door, I could hear voices, loud, male ones barking laughter and a girlish giggle along with the chatter in the living room. Company? Trowa wasn't the type to invite folks over, especially without mentioning it to me.

The front room was littered with big-footed dudes and a couple girls—and Trowa in his favorite red chair. Some dude was slouched over the purple chair, mine. I slipped into the kitchen unseen for the most part and grabbed a soda, dropping my street clothes when I went to wipe my hands on my work apron. I was pissed off in a multitude of ways and slammed the refrigerator door.

I could hear my heart pounding in my ears and not much else. I was still wearing my apron and work clothes from Adolph's! Didn't matter. I could bury them in a corner of our closet and burn them later. I could avoid them and just hide out in our bedroom until they left. I balled up my street clothes and carried my soda in a quick zigzag into the hall to the door and forced my way in.

Why was it so hard to open? A pair of back packs had been pushed against it from the inside.

"Hey!" and a scream came from our glorious huge Sanc Red Oak bed.

"What the fuck!" I yelled at the stink of flesh fumbling and snarling in my bed. "Who--? Get the hell outta my room! Fuck! That's my--! What makes you think--?!"

I was having a difficulty spitting things out seeing as I was upset. The guy and girl (oh, yuck het-sex in my bed!) dressed, sorta, while muttering, and shouting, idiocy at me about being "cool" and "no biggie" and, God... give me strength... All the while I was having a hissy fit. All my anger was just billowing forth. The couple in disrepair pushed past me and out the door to join the others and I stomped after them.

"They were in my bed!" I said pointing an accusing finger at the disrespecting pair. "Our bed!"

"Who's he?" I heard murmured around the room.

Trowa's eyes, make that eye, was dinner plate sized when he caught sight of me for, apparently, the first time, but other than that he appeared perfectly unruffled. He was good at composure control, after all.

"Hey! I know him!" some clown-- and I mean that in the best sense of the word-- who didn't KNOW me at all, cried out. "He's a waiter at Adolph's."

I was wearing the damned apron. Well, shit. Cover blown.

I heard "hunk", "cute", "is that hair for real?" and a few other choice words before that pounding in the ears drowned out the chatter. Angry, I wrestled with myself, fighting the urge to run screaming, crashing through the window, and ended up just going off in a huff to the bedroom, where I could shred sheets.

It was some time before I noticed Trowa standing in the room, the door closed behind him. I dropped what I was ripping up and looked at him.

"I didn't even know you'd come home."

"I'd had a bad day. Lots of bad. I just wanted—" You to come home to.

"You wait tables?"

I didn't bother answering that one. I wasn't waitin' tables no mo', actually.

"And I have to find out from someone else? Why didn't you tell me that's what you were doing?"

"It was a for shit job!" I said giving the pile of ruined sheets a swift kick. "Tell you what? That I'm not worth a rats-ass? That I can't get anything better? Give me a little cred for trying to hold onto some self-respect."

He snorted at that. "That... crazy act you just put on out there was your idea of self-respect?"

"Well, no—"

"You think before you mouth off?" he interrupted. He was mad at me. Why wasn't he mad at the guys I kicked outta out bed? "Those are classmates of mine. We were having a discussion to go over the questions for a test tomorrow. They all live in dorms without privacy and this place... I thought I could do something normal...introduce you and all when you came in, but—"

"But they were IN. OUR. BED!"

"And you just outted me in front of all of my friends!"

Oh. "What do you care? I mean, I didn't mean to, but does that really matter so much what they think?"

"Yes!" He rubbed a hand over his face, clearing away the fringe of hair so I could see both furious eyes. "Just for once I wasn't a clown or a killing machine or a terrorist or a freak. I was another student, a little older and with a great house—something to be proud of, ya know?"

I noticed he left out the "great roommate" part. "You still are. Just tell them I'm a crazy neighbor in the wrong place."

"You humiliated me."

Now, that really hurt. "Oh. Well, you can feel all better and tell'em I'm leaving."

"What do you mean by that?"

I retrieved my soda and roll of clothes, hardly knowing what I was doing or saying but knowing I needed to put some space between me and my boyfriend. "I'll be at Wufei's tonight."

Chapter 4

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