"Defying Gravity"

A Romance in Three Parts

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, yaoi, some language

Pairings: 1x2x1, 3x4x3

Summary: A multi part story of romance starting with a turning point vacation, developing throughout a dangerous UC mission, and moving ahead through the unexpected challenges of a summer vacation.

"Part One: It's a Vacation"

"Needs a tune up," I said. "Hear that 'ting'? Timing's for shit. What kinda monkeys you think they got working down there in maintenance?"

"Hn," Heero grunted in agreement or possibly he didn't know the answers, but I always figured he was agreeing.

"Yeah, stupid kids and old geezers looking to retire. They don't drive them. They don't depend on them to work. What do they care? Maybe I'll retire to the Preventer's garage and fix these babies up right. Get them purring."

Heero took his eyes off the road and flashed me with his blue eyes. Blue eyes and dark messy hair. Man, he was good-looking. He dressed in simple clothes, neat, always neat and tidy, except for his hair.

"Not a bad idea."

Huh? I shot Heero a quick, sidelong glance. "Uh, I was kidding."

He shrugged and signaled left. He turned into the crowded parking lot, dove into an empty slot on the furthest row, and cranked up the brake. I heaved out of my warm seat and felt the slap of cold damp air on my face. I hated the cold.

"Coats first?"

"Hnn." Heero strode determinedly, like he knew where he was going.

"Guess not. Okay, it's your game plan, so lead on. Been here before?" I asked.

"No." He pulled a pamphlet out of his pants pocket and jammed it into my hand.

Ah, he had studied the outlet store directory and map. Naturally. "Gotcha. Okay, so some coats and I could use socks. I didn't pack enough, for some reason. Maybe I was hoping to do a wash every day? What do you think?"

"Do you ever do laundry?"

Well, no. "Why bother? I pay the fee and have it done for me."

"You could learn. Use the facilities to gain the skills to move out."

"I could, but why? I'm hardly living in the dormitory anyway. And... I don't like being alone, completely that way. I mean, why would I want a place to take care of all by myself, ya know?"

We were talking, really talking about, well, stuff. He and I never talked about anything but missions or Preventers. 'Course, this was sorta skirting Preventer topics. I had no idea where we were heading, and didn't care until Heero shot me a cold glance.

"You wouldn't have to live alone."

Oh. He had me there.

"In here." Heero didn't waste words.

I caught the sign as we entered. "GUESS? Is that an outfitter?"

"No, fashion."

Fashion? "Heero, I just need some warm clothes for the week. I can shop for some jeans on my own later."

Heero shook his head and caught the eye of a salesperson about our age.

"Hey," I waved a hand in front of my stubborn friend's face. "You listening to me?"

"Hey," echoed the clerk at my elbow. "What can I help you gen-tell-men find today?"

I figured he meant us and answered, "Nothing-"

"He needs slacks in corduroy and wool, not black; jeans that fit, black's okay; some shirts both casual and dress; sweaters that coordinate; and a sports coat ...ah... two, one wool, for a start." Heero rattled off an entire wardrobe like he was requisitioning equipment for his next mission.

I stood, mouth gaping. The salesperson whipped out a measuring tape and a smile. "Great. I'll need a few measurements."

"I haven't enough money," I whispered to Heero; I was definitely angry and uncomfortable.

"Yes, you have. Your income is comparable to mine and you have practically no expenses."

How did he know? Besides... "I mean, I didn't bring much with me."

"You have a Preventer's credit card. Use that."

"This is personal. I can't expense that!"

"How many sets of clothes have you destroyed on the job?"

Lots.

"Those are expenses. You can replace them."

"They didn't cost... Holy shit!" I checked the price tag on a pair of brown cords the salesman was holding up for my approval. "I haven't spent that much on my entire wardrobe in a year!"

Heero smiled. "He'll try those with that jacket," he pointed out a flecked, wool tweed, "and find a shirt, or sweater."

I shook my head, but that smile of his sapped the force from it. What I wouldn't do to see that smile again. Not much, I can tell you. All my arguments slipped away. What, me worry? Sure, pile them on. Color? Ask him.

If Heero wanted to see me in nice clothes, well, I'd treat him to a show anytime. I wasn't shy and I liked attention. And, yeah, I looked good in those clothes. Looser jeans that didn't hug my crotch, shirts with sleeves I didn't have to roll up and necks that didn't gape, sweaters without holes and that "draped" right. Heero smiled or shook his head, helping me choose the best colors and fit. I picked out my own socks and some new underwear while I was at it. What the hell.!

Heero asked me to wear one of the new outfits, and I did without a whimper. While I was charging my purchases for the very first time with a credit card, Heero asked the same salesclerk about the various outfitters in the area.

"We will store these back at the car," he told me, grabbing two bags and leaving me to juggle the other five. I could do it, too. It was nice to know he didn't think I was incapable of doing more than my share.

"So, when did you learn so much about clothes shopping?" I asked.

"Internet."

Okay, I guess he could fit that in between everything else he was researching. He locked everything in the truck and steered off in a new direction.

"This store has some good deals, I was told," he said.

"Okay with me. Yeah, I could use clearance section with markdowns."

Picking out down coats, hats, gloves, and scarves was a cinch after sweating over everything else. We were both outta there in under thirty minutes.

"You bring shoes other than those?" he asked.

I looked down at my worn, multipurpose, steel-toed work boots. "Nope, these are it. In summer, I'll pick up a pair of sandals or sneakers."

Heero stared a moment, his expression inscrutable, although I'd say it was just him thinking through the possibilities for our next move. "I need a pair of winter boots. There's a shoe store."

"There's five of them, according to this map."

"Pick one."

Why not? This was fun, spending company money on clothes for me, while Heero waited and watched and smiled. I staggered out of the shoe store carrying my winter wear and with shoes, new shoes that fit! Boots, dress shoes, and a really cool pair of basketball shoes with Gilbert Arenas' name on the label. I was chattering along, excited about my new things and by an entire afternoon in the presence of Heero. A heady experience.

After loading the trunk with the rest of our bags, I checked my watch. "We've been gone for hours."

Heero shrugged and looked up, judging the likelihood of snow starting any moment. "We'll eat here then head back; that is, if you'd like that?"

You're asking me? "Yeah, we could catch a burger or something."

Heero smiled, chuckled, actually, and then shrugged as he pulled out his cell phone. "Chang? Fine. We will eat here. Understood. Bye." He tilted his head to the car, and we got in and left. "I saw a restaurant on the way. The shoe salesman recommended it."

"Oh? That's okay with me," I said.

"You're easy to please."

"I have simple tastes. When I was growing up, picky would get you no where good; you'd starve, freeze, or be abandoned."

"You are resourceful."

"Oh yeah?" I grinned. You'da though he'd crowned me king for noticing.

"It's ...fun... to do things for you." He stumbled over the kind words this time.

"Hey, thanks, man. I gotta tell you, yeah, I've never bought so much in my life that didn't repair a Gundam!" I was grinning like an idiot, but I couldn't stop. "Hey, is this the place? Looks nice. Tempura?"

"It's Japanese. You don't like it?"

And I swear, he looked worried enough to turn the car around and go to the sub shop across the street.

"I probably will love it. I just never ate it before. Hey, I like new things. Come on!"

I was glad for the new clothes. The place was posh, and, had I been wearing my ripped, stained, resale-shop clothes, I wouldn't have fit in. Heero chattered in Japanese to the pretty hostess, who was certainly falling in love with him as she led us—well him, while I just tagged along—to a low table. We sat on mats on the floor. I was speechless, but Heero was talkative. He waved away menus, and ordered dishes off the top of his head. Then she bowed and left us.

He became aware of my quiet state and looked at me from under a fall of bangs. "I ordered for both of us. Faster. I hope you like the food."

"I like eating, Heero. If I can catch it and kill it, I can eat it!"

His eyes widened slightly. "You were kidding."

"Yes." Possibly.

I leaned to the side, while the waitress returned to pour tea for us. Heero said something to her in Japanese, to which she nodded and bowed.

"I asked her to bring the dishes as soon as they are ready and not to bother with the traditional order."

I smiled. I had no idea what he was talking about. "Nice place."

He nodded and sipped tea.

I tossed back the tiny cup and poured another. "Thirsty."

"Would you like something else to drink?"

"Ah, some soda would be great. Lemon-lime or anything."

He nodded and caught the girl's eye, not that that was hard. He rattled off something and she left, thrilled to carry out his orders.

"Looks like you have a fan," I said. "If you want to arrange something later, I'll find my way back. I mean, I don't want to cramp your style, you know?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The waitress, if you want to ask her out."

"Why would I do that? I'm with you."

"Just my point. I'll do a quick, quiet exit—"

Heero's arm shot out and caught my wrist in his grasp. "I want to be with you, not her."

"Oh." Well, wow. "Okay, cool." I pulled my hand free and reached for my empty tea cup. We were saved more embarrassment when my soda and the first courses arrived. Cucumbers sliced in a tangy dressing, sweet potatoes, sliced, cold, but cooked, and a long, skinny, green vegetable wrapped with a green cord. I poked at that last one.

"Asparagus and that's a scallion around it," Heero said, following my gaze to the questionable food.

Okay. I knew how to use chopsticks, thankfully, and tasted everything. "I like the cucumbers best, I think," I said.

"Me, too."

A platter of what looked like chicken nuggets on cabbage appeared. "Pork in breading fried quickly," Heero explained as he served us both.

That was delicious and I inhaled most of it as bowls of rice and soup arrived. "Miso soup," he said.

I watched my friend drink directly from the small bowl without a spoon and copied him. "I like this, too. I like it all, thanks."

Heero smiled, warming the whole room, I think, and then he returned to eating in silence. It was a nice quiet, though. The waitress returned and he handed her a card.

"Ah, I can pay my share," I said.

"Next time, you can treat," he said. "We can go. I'll get my card at the door."

"Shouldn't we tip?"

"On the card," he said and waited a moment for me to follow him to the door.

The drive home, I figured, would be silent, unless I started in. "Hey, that was a first for me. You musta grown up eating that way, huh?"

"No. I was not raised by a Japanese family, but I have researched the customs and foods, and studied the language. I'm glad you liked it."

More silence and then he said, "I like you. I had fun. I'd like to do this again."

The tips of my ears burned. I didn't know where to look. My heart beat a tattoo on the inside of my ribcage. Had I heard that correctly?

"Duo?" Heero's voice, usually flat, nearly cracked.

"Ah, sure. Dinner or the shopping?"

His jaw muscles tightened. "Either. Neither. Something else. Your choice."

"Oh. Okay. Sure."

He surprised me further with a chuckle. "That cost me a year's therapy to say that. You could at least show some enthusiasm."

He was asking me out on a date. Maybe. My hands felt clammy. "You've been to a shrink?"

"Yes. It helped me sort out my problems and resolve my emotional blocks. I may have been the 'perfect soldier,' but I was far from being the perfect man."

"Coulda fooled me," I said without thinking.

"No, you pointed out already that you noticed the difference in me at lunch. After the last vacation, I wanted to change." He looked at me a moment, then his eyes returned to the road. "It was suggested that I was offering you nothing."

My nervous stomach was doing loop-de-loops. My mouth opened. My mouth closed. I found a foot sized to fit inside, opened wide, and stuffed it in. "Oh, well...that's... something."

I don't think that's what he was expecting me to say. He sighed and dropped the topic. I don't know what I was thinking. My mind was reeling with blinking lights: "TELL HIM YOU LIKE HIM, TOO!" but my mouth failed me. I could not do it. I mean, the mythical hero could be adored, but when the fantasy came alive... whoa baby! What if he meant "like" like a friend? It was hard to tell with Heero. To be frank, I hadn't a lick of experience with this intimacy shit, less than him, I suspected.

My mouth remained sealed, frustratingly so, because I'd always thought I was gifted at winging it by the seat of my pants.

He stopped outside a convenience store, motioning to me to stay put, and came out lugging a couple six-packs. He loaded them in back and peeled off from the curb without a word. Then-- "You date much?" he asked.

When had I the time for dating? "Ah, not much, not really. I kinda went from diapers to Gundams to Preventers with a few coffee shops and lunch breaks to round it out."

"That's hard to believe. You are so outgoing and popular."

"Hardly," I murmured. My comfort level was off the charts. I wanted out of the car and off the planet, putting a distance between myself and him, the source of my discomfort. But then I saw the cabin looming in the distance and suddenly I wished we weren't home yet. Stay. Go. Stay. Go. Fight or Flee.

"Tomorrow then?" he asked as we rolled next to Wufei's car and parked.

"Tomorrow, oh, ah, yeah. Yeah. Okay. That would be fine. Great, yeah."

I raced into the living room, flushed, confused, excited, and scared to death. Guys who liked other guys, met bad ends, right? It was just a passing phase. Sure, Maxwell, a goddamned three-year phase.

Damn. Heero said he liked me. He wanted to go out with me, just me. But he could have meant he liked me better than, say, dogshit, and wanted me to be a real friend to do stuff with. Or maybe not. Man...

I dashed past the door into the living room and was happy to see the familiar faces of my friends. They looked a little surprised, but I figured I'd interrupted something. It looked like they were gathering around the TV to watch the stack of movies Trowa was holding. I'd forgotten my new clothes, how I must have looked to them, wide-eyed, breathless, all rosy-cheeked, and probably wild and half-cocked crazy.

"Hey, we're back!" I shouted.

"Maxwell!" Heero stood in the doorway, arms loaded with his bags. "Unload so I can lock up."

"Oh, yeah, right!" I grinned and spun around. I skid around Heero, avoiding a collision with his packages by an inch, if I was lucky.

"Baka," he grumbled as I slipped by, but he cracked a smile and shook his head taking the sting out of the insult. He must have said something to Quatre, because he rushed to jam on his shoes to join me outside.

"Did you have fun?" Quatre asked, arms loaded. He looked the very icon of ski-instructor cool. Blue eyes, teeth white as a collar of roiling surf, bridge of his nose and chin lightly tanned from- no surprise- skiing, he'd told me.

"Yeah, it was great. I emptied the store. I got these cool clothes, shoes, lots of stuff. Heero was a trooper, I gotta tell ya. If you ever need fashion advice, he's your man. I didn't know twill from tweed before today, and he knew Donegal from Harris." I whispered, "All new." New clothes; I was in awe.

Quatre was smiling and nodding and banging boxes past the front door. Trowa caught my eye on the way in.

"You missed my chili," he said.

"Ohhh," I groaned. "I was really looking forward to that, too."

"There's leftovers," Wufei said. "Where did you eat?"

"Japanese restaurant. It was way cool. We sat on the floor and this cute waitress fell in love with Heero when he started giving commands in Japanese, so she brought us our food extra fast. We had these incredible pork nuggets and cucumber salad I think I can make and a kind of soup with these little onions and mushrooms floating on top that we had to drink out of the bowl, I mean, I did that as a kid 'cause we never had spoons, but this was a really posh place."

Quatre chuckled and wrapped me in a quick embrace. "Sounds like you had a great time."

Wufei and Trowa exchanged glances. "You understand anything he just said?" Wufei asked.

"I heard "floor", "love", "Heero", "incredible nuggets", and then something about cucumbers and mushrooms," he said.

Wufei smiled, frowned, and elbowed him. Heero had returned from his room, where he'd stashed his purchases, while I was still awash in a sea of my own newly-purchased flotsam. His eyes scanned the room, settling on me. His expression was uncertain, probably mirroring my own.

Quatre grabbed one more bag. "We're all glad you had a good time, and you look very handsome in your new clothes, Duo. Come on; let's put your new things away so we can watch this DVD Wufei's wanted us to see."

Okay, so it wasn't our first date really, but it was awkward as hell there at the end, and I heard first dates usually were. Of course, at the time I wasn't thinking "date" I was not liking my feelings and reveling in them at the same time. Sounds confused, a mess? Yep, that was me all right.

(o)

Although we each had a small bedroom to ourselves in the cabin, we shared a bathroom upstairs and one downstairs. For showers, I was relegated to the downstairs, ancient, claw-footed, tub/shower combo, because I took the longest, and that was because of my knee-length, thick, mostly straight, you-get-the-idea hair. The others could be in and out in five minutes and so could I, if I didn't wash my hair. Anyway, we'd run out of movies to watch and were tired of breaking our jaws with yawns, so we all agreed to turn in. That's when I took my turn with the downstairs shower. I spent another twenty minutes carding my hair snag-free then sat at the fireplace to dry. This was a luxury I enjoyed. Better than braiding it wet and going to bed with a damp towel wrapped around the rope.

The quiet was nice, if I didn't try and think too hard. When not vacationing, the five of us plus a posse of other castaways from the war lived in the Preventer's dormitory with minimal privacy, so this was lovely having the entire living room and fire to myself. The fire popped and crackled. Peace.

We had fought a war for peace; it was nice to enjoy it once in awhile. I wanted to forget my last job. I did not want to think about Heero, his eyes, his strong grip on my wrist, his wry smile, his ramrod straight back that made it seem like he was taller than me when we were actually the same exact height, and size, pretty much. I kept my thoughts above the waist, for about five minutes.

I could hear a door open, light footfalls, and another close, then hear it repeat a minute or two later. Probably the bathroom. We drank a lot of beer watching movies, beer that Heero and I picked up on the way back from the outlet stores, using just his Preventer's ID.

My hair was mostly dry, dry enough so I could braid it and hit the sack. It had been a long time since I had been able to relax like this and have a comfortable bed to myself and no gun under my pillow. Well, I was supposed to have checked my gun in with Wufei when I got into the car, and I had, but I'd pinched it back. It wasn't stealing, since it was mine to begin with. I enjoyed the last of the fire, patted the budge of the gun in my waistband, and started up the stairs.

I heard voices. Quatre's cry and an answering low grumble from Trowa. Give it up and go to sleep.

Another sound out of Quatre, but this one resonated like a muffled sob. I took the stairs two at a time until I was outside his door, my hand about to turn the knob. Trowa's voice rumbled close by. He was in Quatre's room, just on the other side of the door, so close I heard Trowa hiss, "Prick-tease!"

I jumped back just in time. The door flew open and he stalked past, not even seeing me in the hall, but pushing past, leaving the door ajar. I sneaked a peek inside. Quatre was naked from the waist up, covers pooling over his hips on the bed. His face anguished. That's the only way to describe that look. He was staring down at his hands until his eyes shot up, noticing me. I nearly asked if he was okay, but he beat me to it.

"I'm fine, Duo. Bad dream. Please, leave," he snapped.

Ill humor made him feel slightly less powerless, I guess. Worked for me. I stepped back and closed the door. I leaned against the wall, trying to piece together the puzzle in a way that didn't include two of my friends sharing a bed. Quatre had lied to me. He wasn't "fine" and he hadn't had a "bad dream," but I had to honor the guy's pride and not press for details. I knew what a "prick-tease" was, having been called one myself.

Man, I couldn't imagine my two friends in bed together, but I wasn't so stupid not to have guessed what had happened. Trowa had wanted sex and that Quatre had denied him. When had they decided to do that?

A man who screwed around with another man was a dead man; they both were. I also knew why Quatre wouldn't let a man touch him, ah, sexually. I knew secrets Trowa didn't. Still, that didn't give him the right to hassle my bud. My room was in one direction and Trowa's the other, so I sneaked silently to Trowa's door.

I was inside and pinning him to his bed, my gun at his temple an instant later. "Never, ever put your hands on him again, or I will kill you without a second thought, make that without a first, I'll just do it on instinct."

My finger twitched, ready to act on its own accord. I had the situation under control and a handle on my anger, but he didn't know that, and my expression probably didn't reassure him. He nodded, slowly and minutely.

"Glad we understand each other," I said. I leapt out of his reach and pocketed the gun. He's a friend, not the enemy, I reminded myself.

Trowa blinked, but didn't move to sit up. "I don't know if you do understand, Maxwell. I love him. It's only natural to want."

Natural? Another man?

Hardly, but I knew the feeling, because I wanted. I wanted and wanted and wanted.

"He's my best bud," I said. "I love him, too."

I could see a glittering as his eyes narrowed and his head turned my way. "Not the way I do. It's...different."

"Quatre's different."

"I know. He's afraid, but I don't why- what the problem is. You do, don't you? Tell me," Trowa demanded.

He wasn't in any position to make demands, so I knew he was desperate and had told me the truth. He loved Quatre, romantically. A man who loved another man was a dead man.

"Duo, I don't want to hurt him. I don't want to see that look in his eyes again. Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing to tell."

Before I could explain, he reared up, shouting, "You're a goddamned homophobe and a liar, Maxwell! I can't believe—" His eyes roved to my hand and to where I'd stashed my gun, as he drew a deep breath, tension building across his corded arms and back. "When you come down from your 'battle mode high', we'll talk. You can be sure of that."

Homophobe?

That was a first. I wasn't prepared for that insult, but that other was a sore point for me. "I don't lie!"

Again, his eyes traced the path from my hands to my waistband where the gun handle was visible. "There's not much I feel like saying to a friend about to blow my head off."

"I can't tell you. I promised Quatre. It's his decision."

"Okay," he said. "Let's get this over with tonight. I'm not going to sleep on it and Quatre needs—" his voice cut off.

"What I need—" Quatre's sudden entrance surprised me. He had on a pair of sloppy sweatpants, Trowa's, I guessed. "—is to talk with both of you."

"We got company," I said. "I hear the others heading this way. Is this what you want, really?" I asked my bud.

Quatre sighed and nodded. Behind his back, I recognized Wufei and Heero's guarded shadows. "Hey, guys," I called. "Join the party."

"What is this?" Wufei snapped.

Trowa motioned for the others to shut up and listen. Heero stepped inside, his eyes on me, his expression curious. Wufei found a wall to lean against, scowling. Quatre moved to sit beside Trowa on his bed, closed his eyes, and began to speak in a low, shaky voice. "We were captured on our way out."

"OZ mission a couple years ago," I filled in. "I ripped the data, while Quatre watched my back. We almost made it outta there."

Quatre waited for me to stop, and then continued, "Since I was the heaviest armed, the guards picked Duo as the one with the information."

"We know this story," Wufei broke in. His impatience with this interruption to his evening of self-absorbed meditation was apparent from the tenor of his voice. "Duo was...tortured. I found your cellblock with the two of you inside, together. Trowa and I cleared the corridors, while Heero held off the attack on our escape route. You and Duo remained in the hospital two days then were released. Why is this important now?"

Quarter raised his eyes, meeting Trowa's. "I was the one that was tortured."

"I read the reports in the hospital," Heero said. "You were roughed up, but he was beaten and raped."

"No! I had the records switched. I couldn't live with the," his eyes locked onto mine and held, "shame. Duo said he could. He said just being from L2 put him in a different league. If pretending I had been overlooked, if that would help me, he was willing." He gave me the kindest, saddest look ever.

"L2 and damaged goods go together," I said with a shrug.

Quatre shook his head. "They made you watch, while they r-raped me, and nearly broke you. Nearly, but not. I couldn't have been that strong, Duo, had our roles been reversed. I think L2 and strength go together."

Heero and Wufei shook their heads as if refusing to believe what they'd been told. Trowa's face was a mask of tragedy, as the information played out in his head. Quatre clenched and unclenched his hands, his face twisting in anger barely suppressed.

"My family would suffer deeply, knowing that I'd been r-raped, repeatedly, but Duo had no family, no one that cared, he said." Quatre's voice rose. "But that was wrong! I have a problem now that I can't deal with and, Duo, there's someone who did care what happened to you. He needed to know."

He? I caught that, but I didn't think anyone else did. I thought Quatre was wrong, but I said nothing. Why did the truth matter to anyone but Quatre, and possibly Trowa? I felt Heero's glare on by back and my gut twisted. Deny, deny, deny... I felt the fatigue of the stressful day crashing over me like rain on the window, no...like a tsunami, wave upon wave. Trowa reached out, resting a hand on my bud's shoulder, but nothing was said for a moment.

We were all uncomfortable; someone had to elevate the mood. "Well, now they all know," I said. I even tried out a smile and a chuckle.

"Preventer's will pay for counseling," Wufei said. "I think you both should go- both you and Duo."

Okay so that started an argument that we were all too tired to finish. Someone walked out, me, and started the migration out of Trowa's room. Behind my back I heard Heero's voice, pitched low, commenting to Wufei. "His hair..."

My hair was loose. I don't know when I'd worn it loose around my friends. Not for a long time. I bunched it into a heavy ponytail and closed the door to my room. I braided it and crawled under the covers. Alone. A whole room to myself. The quiet. I lay there a long time listening to the sound of the wind in the pines and trying not to think.

(o)

I don't know where Quatre ended up that night, but in the morning he was wearing this smarmy look on his face, which I hated, and told me he was willing to go into therapy, if I'd go with him.

"I made us coffee," I said.

"Thanks, but don't be evasive." Quatre poured himself a mug and rejoined me in the living room, where I was reviving the fire.

"Sure," I gave in. Quatre didn't ask much out of a friendship. After all, if therapy helped Heero, what did I have to lose? A few issues? The end of my nightmares? An idiosyncrasy or two? I poked at the glowing embers and blew on the pile of paper plates I was recycling into kindling. "When I can squeeze it in."

"I think you should," he paused, unsure how to say what he knew I wouldn't like, "Go on light duty for awhile. You don't have to volunteer for the worst undercover operations."

"Someone's gotta do it. I come out alive. Who knows how many kids would have failed and died on duty, only to have to den me in anyway to mop up?"

"You don't have to do it all, Duo! You can choose to live your life and how to do that."

"And miss out on the fun?" I grinned, but I didn't fool my bud.

"None of the rest of us do! You have given your life over and over to some cause. We just want you to give to yourself now."

"Thanks, Quatre, but I'm okay. It just takes me a few days to get my 'role' outta my head, ya know?"

"When's the last time you acted as just you, can you remember?"

"Yeah, sure. It was..." Damn.

"A year, Duo. Our last vacation together. You took off a month and then you were gone again. You are losing yourself! I never know if I'm talking to my dear friend or some character you're playing anymore. You are killing yourself!"

I was so caught up in our conversation that I didn't notice Wufei join us until I heard his voice. "Why do you think we started these vacations, Maxwell?"

"Huh? Ah, fun?" I offered.

"Yes, for you."

Oh. They did it for me, to give me chance to unwind, for my mind to stabilize. The concerned looks I was getting clued me in: I was wearing down. "You been checking on me." I didn't ask it.

"We have limits. You keep pushing yours too far." Wufei unfolded his arms.

"Coffee?"

Wufei sniffed and shook his head. "No thanks. I'm making tea."

Quatre knelt beside me, watching the flames dance along the edges of the blackening paper. "I don't want to lose my best friend."

"Yeah, thanks," I chuckled, but my shrug said it all.

"No matter what, you are my best friend. Trowa won't replace you."

"I'm not an idiot, Quat, or blind."

"No, you're very perceptive. I know you don't approve-"

"It's not about my 'approving'. It's... it's dangerous! As a kid on the run I saw everything. Everything, Quatre. You can't even imagine."

"I may have been born with a silver spoon in my mouth, but I'm not naïve. I know that life's more difficult for... homosexuals." He dipped his head and stared into the fire.

"They all became whores and died, Quatre!" I blurted out. "They'd get beat to a pulp and used until they died!"

His eyes were so blue and clear and kind. "This isn't then or L2, and we aren't street kids or helpless. And... it's the way we are. When I look into his eyes, my heart just pounds. I can't help smiling. I want... something from him that isn't just friendship, Duo. Do you understand?"

Man, did I.

"I think you do. I've seen you light up when he smiles at you, and what you do to him when you walk into the room—" He stopped, afraid he'd said too much.

I couldn't meet his gaze. The fire held me spellbound.

"And it's okay," he whispered. "It's wonderful to like somebody and feel it returned."

I was fascinated by my hands, the poker, the burning paper and where the sticks caught fire along their splintered edges.

"He couldn't take his eyes off you last night. Your hair is spectacular down." His voice was hesitant again. "Tell me when to stop before you hit me, okay?"

That broke the spell.

Smiling, I said, "Stop, then."

His smile faded and I saw this strange pinched look around his eyes. "You frightened me."

Okay, that sobered me up.

"You attacked my boyfriend, our friend, with a gun. He told me this morning." He fought back a blush and achieved a sterner expression. "Don't say what you're thinking. This isn't war time, Duo. We don't shoot friends. That's—"

"Crazy." I said that, but I was dizzy from contemplating the word "boyfriend."

"Yes, it is."

"I didn't shoot him." Him, your boyfriend, Trowa. Gods...

"No, so you aren't crazy, but you held a gun to his head. I was mad at you for interfering, you know that."

"Protecting..."

"I don't need protection! I'm as tough as the rest of you. That made me feel—insulted." he sighed. "It was sweet, but totally unnecessary. Trowa wouldn't hurt me."

"He has before," I reminded him.

"The war is over." Quatre huffed, seeing that I looked humbled. "I was going to tell him about...what had happened, the truth. I'd been working up to it. It's hard. I will tell my family, too. Someday. Just don't want them to use the attack as an excuse for my...being gay, and use it against Trowa."

"Sure it wasn't?"

He pursed his lips and snorted with disgust. "Yes, I'm sure, and you know that I've liked," he drew his breath and held it a moment, letting it out slowly, before continuing, "boys pretty much exclusively as long as I've had sexual interests. You knew about a few." His eyes were luminous and searched my face for a reaction. "I had the biggest crush on you for the longest time, but I needed the friendship more. And I'm glad I did, because I really need you as my best friend."

Breathe. Breathe!

"Duo?"

I breathed; hot followed by cold tidal waves of shock washed over me. Quatre once had a thing for me? Wow, did that take courage to say.

"Ah, you sure know how to... shut me up. Man." I met his worried eyes with a smile. "Me? Really?"

His relief was instant and he nodded. "When Trowa came alongI made a choice, seeing the difference between how I felt about the two of you, and I noticed someone watching you and me, well, you mostly, trying to figure out our relationship."

"This someone has a name, Quatre, so you might as well use his name." A smile won over my mixed feelings, but then the sudden heat of blood flushing my face nearly unnerved me. "He told me when we went shopping. Ah, Heero did, but I'm not sure how he meant it."

Quatre grinned. "He said he liked you? Did he? Well, that's great, isn't it? I mean, you like him too, right? You didn't tell him to go to hell, did you?"

"No, I—" I dropped the poker and wiped my hands on my jeans, "told him I'd think about it."

"Sounds like you have plenty to think about this week."

"No shit." I nodded and rubbed a sore knee, stretching it before standing. Quatre and Trowa were boyfriends, Heero liked me, I liked Heero, Quatre and I needed counseling, Heero had had over a year of counseling and discovered his emotions. Yeah, I had plenty to think about.

"All right, but promise to really think about the therapy." Quatre patted my arm as he stood. He drew the curtains and gasped. I jumped to my feet and in a flash I stood gawking at the scene out the window.

"SNOW!"

Wufei strode from the kitchen. "Yes, and breakfast is ready."

"Food," Trowa muttered as he stumbled playfully down the stairs. "Food or I die."

"Move it," Heero said.

Heero shoved his friend forward, as Wufei pushed past them both and up the stairs.

"Where's he going?" Trowa asked.

I shrugged and dug out the silverware, tossed it in a pile on the table and fell into a chair alongside Heero. As we helped ourselves to the piles of sausages, eggs, and toast, Wufei pattered back downstairs. He dumped a bag at the door then rejoined us at the table. I wondered why he needed his sword. "Snow threaten you?"

"What? No." His eyes looked askance, avoiding mine. "You'll see. I came prepared for snow." A fleeting smile swept his face; it was almost evil.

(o)

We had a great time in the snow. Heero had been doing perimeter checks, but for the best defensible positions for a snowball fight, and had a head start in the attack. Wufei had packed gear, but not weapons, just shovels and scrapers to clear paths and the cars. He had a fortress erected out of snow in no time. Trowa, Quatre and I got creamed. And soaked. We fired snowballs upon Wufei and Heero in strafing runs, bombarding them as best we could, and nearly beat down the resistance. Still, we were trapped and Quatre got cold so we stopped. His thin Arabian blood couldn't handle the cold as well as mine, a surprise.

I also turned over my gun to Wufei, promising not to steal it back. I had to sit in front of the fire braid undone, hair fanned out to dry, which Heero didn't seem to mind at all, since he sat and stared at it while Wufei prepared lunch.

"Is it my turn to cook dinner?" Quatre asked.

He was towel-drying his silky blonde hair and had changed into pale blue jeans the color of his eyes and a lemon yellow shirt. Yeah, I noticed the clothes he was wearing and even embellished the description that way in my head. Yeah, I learned that word "embellished"—as in "the back pockets of these jeans are embellished with rhinestones." And, no, I didn't buy those jeans.

"Yes," Heero said, "but Duo and I have made other plans."

Quatre smiled. "Good. I only bought enough fish for three." And then he winked.

Chapter 3

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