"Heero's Good Fortune"

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: Yaoi, AU

Pairings: 1x2, 3x4

Summary: Heero introduces his new best friend to his other friends with a composure perhaps unmerited and gets them back for their past boyfriend introductions.

"Heero's Good Fortune "

Part 1

"When you said you met this Duo fellow by accident—" My friend Wufei started out mistaken from the start. This came from rushing headlong into a thing- a cause, an argument, a simple story-telling.

Cautionary note, one which I ignored entirely and to my benefit: don't let your emotions rule your head.

"Heero said he'd been in an accident," Quatre declared.

I was glad it was another of my friends, and not I who had to correct him. It meant it was Quatre who received the evil eye.

"And don't look at me that way."

"And what way is that?" Wufei scoffed in return.

Ignoring the silly argument threatening to eat up the afternoon, I persisted in my attempt to get through the "how we met" story before its subject arrived. And I had a method. I'd planned this out so as to irritate them just enough to get even. I had had to endure the retelling of Wufei's storybook fairytale romance with Zechs Merquise enough times to recognize each iteration's embellishments. And I had had Trowa's in-your-face, one-nighters to hear about and Quatre's eventual, and by my accounts inevitable, taming of the playboy story to listen to.

They could damn well suffer through my story, made up parts and all.

"As crashes go," I said, "it wasn't all that big, not like on one of those news shows, where they say it sounded like a Mobile suit assault. This was more like being hit from behind by an out-of-balance washing machine."

"Hold on." The last of my friends to be heard from stopped my recitation, as I had expected he would. The only surprise was that he'd let me get this far.

"Yes?"

"You weren't suspicious that this happened?" Trowa never took anything that happened at face value. He was forever on the hunt for the deeper intent, the devious workings, and the dark subplots lurking on the fringes.

"No." I did not then or now.

"You drive a BMW sports car. A car like that screams rich-ass driver, making you a target for-"

Cutting him off at the shadowy alley where the rich are mugged by the desperate, Wufei reminded us all that: "Rear-end collisions are less likely to go for well for the car behind, from the point of view of the insurance adjuster."

"I was thinking of a faked-accident-turn-robbery," Trowa pressed on. "Those are becoming all the rage in crime these days."

"Don't be ridiculous. You want to hear the rest?" I asked.

"Oh, yes, we do!" Quatre earnestly insisted. "I want to know everything about this wonderful new man in your life." He shone in the dusty light of the garage, but he sparkled in the sunlight.

"The driver was, as I was to quickly discover, to become my new best friend, Duo, recently from L2. His car, a death trap, had folded. To quote him, '-adapting the shape of an accordion, but, alas, one never again to make beautiful music.' He seemed sad to see it that way and I thought even mournful. You have something to say, Wufei?"

He had snorted. He had made it a sound of contempt. "I will," he promised. "Proceed."

"When he piled into the back of my car—"

"Just a moment!" Now Wufei had something to say. "Were you blocking traffic?"

"You both were not badly hurt, right? That was good." Bless you Quatre.

"Why did you let him get into your car?" Trowa asked.

"We had pulled to the side of the street. I quickly determined that I was unhurt. I couldn't determine his condition. He seemed dazed and unsteady on his feet, so I opened the door to the back seat of my car, suggesting he sit a moment and collect his thoughts."

"That was nice of you," Quatre said.

"Thank you. He'd cut his lip right here." I pointed to where using my face.

"It was not nice. It was reckless," Trowa said. "The man could have pulled a knife on you."

"I agree. You should have suspected he was out for his own gain." That came from Wufei.

Trowa approved wholeheartedly and looked pleased to have Wufei's support. "Robbery attempt, at least."

I guessed Trowa had been working robbery cases lately for Preventers, and Quatre hadn't been able to get him to detach from his job.

"Oh, Trowa, not everyone has evil intentions." Quatre beamed at me. "Was he injured anywhere else?"

"He said not. He confessed to having too much home brew -" I knew that would get a rise out of all of them.

"Drunk driving! And you didn't notify the police!" Wufei shouted with indignation.

"I was stunned by his beauty." I guessed that might aggravate them, too.

Quatre chuckled. "A thief who stole your heart?"

Trowa let out a low moan. "I can't believe this. You being remotely sympathetic to anyone driving drunk."

"Your insurance agency could collect-!" Wufei insisted.

"Thank you, Wufei, for looking out for me and my insurance company."

"You have no reason to be impertinent to me!" Wufei said and giving me his bruised look. Boo hoo.

"We should let him go on, everybody. I'm sure he has a good explanation," Quatre said. His expression begged for me to offer up a reasonable justification. "He's teasing us, can't you tell? I'm positive he wouldn't have been so complacent had Duo actually been drunk."

Quatre wasn't called the brains of the operation for no good reason. Also he cheated and "read" the emotions of others. Mine must have been pretty damn complacent. It was time to introduce another irritant into my story before they became bored with it.

"He was... distracted with worry for Shinigami, the pet cat he reluctantly left back home in the care of a friend named Hilde, residing on colony L2."

"Sounds like a load of crap," Trowa surmised.

"I think it's sad," Quatre said. "I wonder why he couldn't bring the cat with him when he left?"

"Probably the flea-bitten mongrel couldn't get past the health requirements for importation!" Wufei submitted. "Well, now we are getting somewhere. L2 colony. Naturally."

Trowa didn't let Wufei continue to tell me why anything fell into place as a result of Duo's having come from L2. "That's racial profiling."

"I know what it is!" Wufei snapped, taking the bait, "I can say anything I like. This is Heero's garage and not a workplace, besides, we all know you were thinking the same thing as well, that it was intentional on his part for us to think that since he revealed the detail."

Well, of course. Moving on. "In the late night darkness, he made a promise to pay for any damage: 'I give you my word, mister, and a word is all a poor L2 colonial dude has to give. On my honor, this misfortune will be set straight, and I apologize for the trouble my Shinigami has caused this evening.'"

"He deserved a good tongue-lashing for breaking the law, drinking and driving...or distracted by his cat.. or whatever his excuse. It could have been a serious accident. It would have been completely within your rights to call for the police," Wufei concluded. "It is the law, actually, to report accidents." He looked to Trowa for conformation, which he got from this look of triumph spreading across his face.

"I don't think it was Shinigami who caused the trouble so much as whatever was really worrying him," Quatre said, sighing.

I felt sorry for my kind friend trying to balance his feline adoration with his desire to support me, Duo, whom he'd not yet met, and placating the others.

"You did collect his insurance information... name, residence, driver's license number?" Wufei pressed.

Trowa sat up. I knew he was mentally running through the steps he would take the moment he got his hands on that information. I needed to eliminate that possibility. "At the shake of a hand, a deal was made—"

"What!?" They practically harmonized.

"- Duo was to drop off a payment every Sunday afternoon at my house-."

"Oh, Heero! You are very trusting."

"Too much so, and borderline insane," Trowa concluded. "To believe a total stranger like that? You very well might never have seen Duo again."

I wondered when my dear friend and investigator for Preventers had expanded his work experience to become my psychiatrist. I nearly asked him, but the sarcasm didn't wear well on me, so I let it all pass.

"I assume the man had no insurance, another law broken, since he is legally obliged to have it to be licensed in Sanc. Oh. My. God! He's unlicensed to boot! Then there's the DUI...or not... Heero, there's still time. Give me what you have on him and I'll get the ball rolling. We can get his wages attached—"

"Wufei!" Quatre cried out in his most scornful voice. "Heero won't do any of the things you are suggesting. You know he likes Duo. That's why we're all here."

Duo had really gotten to me, yes. I didn't bother telling them that I had given him money to taxi home, wherever that had been at the time. It wasn't any longer. He'd moved. Yes, I could gloss over that because I had a much more significant piece of the story to unveil.

"And the damage was very small, wasn't it?" Quatre asked, again, trying to move the story along.

"I estimated that for my car the total amount of the damage was a little over a thousand credits-"

"Ridiculous!" Wufei had out his small notebook device and was pecking madly away at it. "I saw your car at the shop. They won't even look at it for that amount. Give me your receipts!"

I ignored the demand. "- to which Duo, on his first visit, exclaimed, while handing me a ten credit chip, 'It will take some time, my friend, but we will travel this road together, and we will have a drink about it at the end.' "

"Seems to me he'd better lay off the booze," Trowa drawled. "You know he's going to bugger out on this deal, right?"

"Even if he follows through, at that rate it would take him years, no less than two, to repay you," Wufei determined, while still punching in numbers and typing away.

"He liked to remind me that he, as owner of Shinigami, was responsible for any damage caused by the troublesome cat—" I went on, or tried to.

Wufei snorted. "Oh yes. Even if the cat resided two thousand sectors away in a place cloaked by a blanket of artificial air and shielded by layers upon layers of material impervious to every kind of energy ray and substance known to man, he was responsible."

"Duo always looked to the horizon while saying these things. He had an earnest practicality along with a vision of the future." I may have been wearing a dreamy expression. Thinking about him did that to me.

Trowa laughed outright "Sure you weren't blindsided by this Duo dude?"

Quatre kicked at him as he stood up. "Poor Duo!"

"So what is he doing on Earth?" Trowa asked. He started walking to the door leading into my house. "Working?"

"He can't be making much if he can only afford to pay such small amount! OH! I see! Duo wants to drag the timeline of visits out!" Quatre looked pleased with having come up with his romance-laced, logical conclusion.

Trowa disappeared into my house. I assumed he'd gone to use the bathroom. The rest of us were dotted around my garage with the door up.

"As if that's a recommendation!" Wufei snarled at Quatre, which he could only if Trowa was not around to protect him, I think. "And no mention of how he'd put you out, damaging your car. You had no inkling that the man was relying on your good will to carry out his worthless-?"

"But he's come every Sunday," Quatre cut him off, "Right, Heero? He's trying!"

"He has, and during each of Duo's visits, he gladly accepted an offer of an ice cold beer, sadly not a home brew, but one I'd chosen from a local, distinguished brewery. Two's his limit."

"You supply him with alcohol when you know, first hand, he's a drunkard!" Wufei could, and had, worked himself into a state over minor things. "Dear Lord! Heero! I agree with Barton this time. You have gone off the deep end."

"So, you've labeled him a drunkard already? Didn't you understand, Duo hadn't been drinking; it hadn't caused the accident," Quatre corrected. "It was his worrying about his kitty cat, which I agreecan be a distraction."

"You and your awful, awful cat—" Wufei started a new rant, which I interrupted.

"Every payment was placed in a cigar box, labeled, 'Shinigami's Misfortune.'"

"That's sweet, Heero." Quatre showered me with one of his gentle smiles. It had a trickle-down effect that warmed me top to bottom with his well-being.

"Thanks." I smiled with him. His eyes were tracking Trowa now, reentering the garage, where we were all seated on cardboard boxes. He carried with him a sheaf of papers.

"And after three months of Sundays, the total cash payments amounted to-? What's this?" Wufei immediately bounced up to meet him. Sparkly things caught attention of crows; for Wufei it was paper, forms, litigation, documents of any kind. No wonder he was a lawyer. He took all the papers from Trowa and scanned them for information.

I shook the cigar box and related the sum total of its contents to date. "$162.29."

"I see." Wufei returned to his stack of cardboard boxes, where he had set up a temporary office. He tablet poised upright on one, the papers next to it. He typed furiously. "$5500 for your car's repair... and what is this additional cost? No... no... you didn't!" The last past coming out in a choking gasp of air.

"I didn't?" I teased.

"You repaired his car!" Wufei screeched; his voice cracked.

"I passed it several times that first week. He'd abandoned it, because he couldn't afford to have it towed, and, obviously, hadn't funds to fix it himself."

"Dear God..." Wufei moaned. "You are aware that it IS possible to do the minimal $600 repair, enough to license a repainted bug, get it to pass emissions, and use it as basic, somewhat reliable transportation-."

"I don't even see why you felt the need to do that much," Trowa said. "He drove into your car."

"He was at fault and knew he'd broken several laws, and yet you ... OH MY GOD!"

Quatre ran to assist Trowa, who had caught a swooning Wufei. "What's wrong?"

"He probably discovered the bill for the car's full restoration," I told him.

"That's like purchasing a brand new vehicle," Trowa said.

"The place literally took the entire car apart and put it all back together again by hand." I smiled. "The end result: a nifty, brand new, hand-crafted car."

Trowa nodded his agreement. "Yeah, most reliable shops will end up doing that. What's the name of the place you used again? I have a Ferrari I've been meaning to fix up, but I'll never get to it, I know."

"Stop that! We can't condone what he did!" When Trowa leaned over him to get a look at the shop mechanic's name, Wufei nearly punched him in the face with his wild swing. "Don't hang over me! And do not let Yuy think this is in any way an acceptable expenditure!"

I was talking mostly to Trowa now, who wanted the particulars. "—couldn't figure out how to inconspicuously install a radiator, modify the pan and get it to pass inspection."

"Not a car like that," Trowa thrummed with excitement.

I knew about the old sports car he had up on blocks and draped with canvas in his garage. He'd once told me how he'd dreamed to have it in racing condition. That was when he had free time; before he'd met Quatre. "However, they found they could easily get 150HP out of a pancake 4."

"That the same engine that sits in the Porsche 914?" he asked me.

"Yes, and even the 912 with a 6 cylinder variation behind the 911."

"Steering upgrade?" Trowa pressed.

"You don't need power steering... the front of the car is very light. But I agreed to upgrade the electrical system and install a modern stereo and HID lighting. Same for NAV and PW's. The interior was easy enough-."

When I dared to look, I noticed that Wufei was sitting, head in hand, staring at the sheets of paperwork from the VW restoration shop.

Quatre was bent over him, comforting him as best he could. "It's all spent now, Wufei, so it's too late to do anything about it. Besides, it must look very nice and be quite valuable." He looked my way and asked, "We'll see it soon, won't we?"

"Yes, he'll be driving it over." I returned to my discussion with Trowa. "Trouble was with torsion bar suspension it couldn't handle too much additional weight without upgrades."

"You did those of course."

"Oh, yeah. It will never drive and feel like a modern car, but it was a worthy project and looks very nice and tasteful."

"What was the bottom line?" Trowa asked. "I'm really thinking I'll have that Ferrari done now."

"For that? Expect to pay $20,000 to $100,000 depending on how much quality you want in the vehicle." I smiled as Trowa's eyes, visible eye, widened and then I have him the final, reasonable number. "It cost me 30 grand."

"Not bad at all. If I had to do it myself, it would take me years. I think I'll have the big items jobbed out and leave the fun parts to do myself. I want technology upgrades—"

Wufei had recovered sufficiently to let me have it. "You realize that you are spending more on him than he is paying you back at this point? He's hardly keeping up on the beer tab! He'll never catch up."

"It's unlikely," I said. "But he seems to have a plan."

"Oh, I'm sure he does," Wufei muttered.

Trowa patted the box he was sitting on. "It have anything to do with all this shit in your garage?"

"Yes," I said. Nothing got past Trowa. "In addition to the money, Duo unloaded what he called 'valuable mementos to help us reach our destination.'"

"His destination, you mean," Wufei corrected with the precision of an account, or tax attorney. "Which, appears to be your house."

I was tempted to give him the punch line right then, but didn't. I knew the impact would be greatest in a few minutes.

"Oh, these are his things?" Quatre peeked into one of the boxes. None were sealed.

"They are," I conceded. "Duo began by stacking the items in a pile that started in that corner of my garage and gradually spread toward the center."

"As if sucking up your goodwill and money hasn't been enough," Wufei said, "he must take over your home as well. Yuy, I'm afraid I must step in and get the law involved."

"This reminds me of a movie I watched the other night, The Blob. It grew and grew." Trowa spread his arms in demonstration and Quatre slipped within his embrace.

"Much like an ominous town-eating lava flow," Wufei pointed out.

"Which one was this?" I asked.

Trowa frowned. "Which one what?"

"Which hunky star?" I clarified.

Quatre laughed and supplied the answer. "Steve McQueen."

McQueen, the actor, was long dead, so I didn't think Quatre had anything to worry about, and he didn't act like he thought so either. When Trowa discovered a man he liked the look of, he'd get a fixation. It made him good at his job and, at one time, a bit of a randy boyfriend, until Quatre discovered that watching old movies supplied Trowa with sufficient eye candy to curb his appetite. I'm sure he had a few other tricks as well.

That and the fact that Quatre himself was a handful, or so I understood Trowa to say. He had called him "high maintenance, but in a good way". I interpreted that to mean that the CEO of Winner Enterprises would require his boyfriend's undivided attention, knew how to make that happen, and Trowa didn't mind it in the least. They both seemed happy.

"So what's Duo's plan got to do with this crap?" Trowa asked, getting us back to the subject at hand.

Quatre peeled himself off Trowa' chest and experimentally opened another of Duo's boxes. "Ha!" he laughed.

"Duo said to me," I related, "'It is my dream that one day we will have the king of all garage sales; people will come from miles around, and once they realize the value of the collection, money will flow from their wallets, and Shinigami's debt will be paid.'"

"How poetic of him," Trowa said.

"Oh, Heero," Quatre said sorrowfully. "I don't think you are doing very well out of this arrangement."

"You're damned right he's not!" Wufei agreed gleefully. "Not only is he losing money right and left, but he has lost his one day off."

I must have made a sound he didn't like, a chuckle possibly, because he riveted his beady, black eyes on me and proceeded to give an accounting of my current state of affairs, as per Duo.

"Your free Sunday afternoons are no longer." Why Wufei had decided to sound like a bad voice over of himself, I couldn't guess, except that it was his feeble attempt at sounding dramatic. "You are spending a fortune on beer, but nothing matches the fortune you have paid a car shop to fix your car and restore the other man's, the leech's. And now, your garage has been taken over by junk! It is criminal!"

"Oh, how cute!" Quatre had found something of Duo's that he liked. He held it up so we could all see the electric owl clock with eyes that went side to side with the ticking;

Quatre and Trowa rifled through a couple boxes, uncovering a wealth of, well... Some highlights of Duo's other mementos:

- Queen's greatest hits album, very used condition;

-Box of ancient DVD movies, all action-type;

-Three buckets of assorted nails, screws, and mismatched hardware;

-Coasters representing biker bars from all over the universe;

-Four red-striped vinyl chairs, which I coveted because I had the matching table in the kitchen;

-One stuffed armadillo named "Solo";

-Assorted posters, all hot young men. No comment except that it kept Trowa occupied for most of the afternoon after that.

-Blue-stained wood lamp with torn peacock fabric shade and dangly glass beads- for "pizazz", Duo had said, when he'd shown it to me;

-Black candelabra embellished with smoky crystals and what appeared to be barbed wire;

-Banana-shaped comb.

As if fueled by movements of unstoppable, underground tectonic plates, the pile had mushroomed and included many hand-made wooden crates brimming with tools from different eons and varying degrees of rust and disrepair.

"What are these?" Wufei asked, at last giving up the pretense of disinterest. He lifted the lid on a very large crate at the back.

It held, for all appearances, unidentifiable parts. "Those are from what Duo called his 'old skipper-ship' and it choked him up to look at them," I explained.

"Oh dear," Quatre said. His eyes moistened, looking deceptively as if he might cry. I'd seen him do this before. He could appear weak and emotional, but he had rhino-tough skin and a heart encased in Gundanium. "These are all Duo's possessions, aren't they?"

I had wondered myself. "Once, I questioned Duo as to the origin of the items, since some seemed very well-used. Again, he looked toward the horizon while replying, 'They come to me while I'm driving, praying to the Sister Helen and Father Maxwell, and hoping for an end to my hardship. Wait and see, my friend. Destiny has brought us together on this journey, and every day I dream of the time when my collection of mementos brings an end to this problem I have burdened you with, an obligation brought upon by the curse of the reckless Shinigami.'"

I had taken him at his word that these were "findings" to sell. Now, though, looking back to each time he brought something, I could picture the care he'd taken unloading and placing them just so. I began to wonder if Quatre was right and these were his treasures.

"Ancestors protect me!" Wufei moaned; at least I think that's what he muttered. "And it's his own fault. He did a stupid thing, caused what could have been a much more dangerous accident, and is trying - with excruciating slothfulness - to compensate Heero. It's the consequences of acting stupidly and he's dragging it out to get Heero feeling sorry for him and let him off."

"I think he would have taken the car, sold it, and run if he'd been trying to pull a fast one on Heero." Quatre told him. "I keep wondering, though, that if he carted all this from L2, why couldn't he have brought his cat?"

"He didn't ship this. It would have cost him a mint," Trowa nudged the crate with his shoe. "More likely it's collected here, like he said."

"The man is getting free drinks AND free storage! I bet he'll never sell any of this!" Wufei railed. "And I'll bet my next paycheck that there's no damned cat!"

I looked over the garage. As the lava pile of amorphous bags and boxes expanded, threatening my prized collection of National Geographic magazines, I knew Duo and I shared the same dream. Get rid of it, sell it, and let him keep the proceeds.

Wufei was still on his rant. "The parasite might as well move in!"

Ah, my moment had arrived, the one I'd been waiting for. Time to spring the news.

"He is," I said. Heh, heh. I knew I should have invited Wufei's keeper to keep him from going apoplectic, but I absolutely hated Zechs.

Wufei's face drained of all color and his mouth gaped. "Eh?!"

TBC

Chapter 2

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