"The Rovers"

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, Romance, Adventure

Pairings: ?

Summary: The characters from Gundam Wing find love amid the perils of war, oh… and they save the world while they're at it. The story is set in an alternative universe on earth. Part One is told from Heero's point of view. We meet the roving people with a hidden agenda, and the men hunting them. In Part Two, things go wild and…well, let's just get through these first four chapters of Part One and see how it goes.

Thanks to Waterlily for reading and offering her advice not just once but twice—and when you get through part two you see just how long a story this is and just how much I owe her! Hope the exchange rate is in my favor…

"The Rovers "

Part Two

Chapter 8 - Just Causes

(o) Wufei's pov

Merquise and Chang hadn't come within sight of the L5 borders when a blast from an unbalanced firearm sounded over their heads. Howard had forewarned that Duke Dermail had armed troops with rifles- poor ones, but effective if you were hit, so they weren't completely unprepared. The pair rode quickly for cover. At the side of the road were the broken remnants of carts from which to take up defensive positions.

Wufei sighted down the barrel of the flare rifle, silently expressing gratitude to Howard and his assembled inventors for their brilliance and generosity. A firearm like this was a rarity and a tremendous advantage against the simple rifles he and Zechs were facing.

From the slats of a wagon he could see pinpricks of rifle fire. He returned it, squeezing off thin beams of light that burned on contact then changed powerpacks as lead pellets rattled in the branches above his head. Magically, the used pack would re-charge in a few minutes. He had no idea how Howard's doctors created and wielded such power, but he was grateful for it now.

One of Dermail's men leaped from a depression in the earth on the other side of the road and threw a bomb into the wagon in front of him. The sides blew out and the wooden frame started to burn.

"Imbeciles!" Wufei sneered. They could steal the bombs from L5, but these people had no idea how to mix the explosives to do any real damage. Not all the secrets of his people had been pilfered- something else to be thankful for.

Dermail's riflemen, some wearing white bandages, jumped out of an empty dray on the side away from the gunfire and began to shoot from behind the wheels. Wufei heard a cry from his left, a bullet smacked into the log Zechs used for protection. His heart leaped into his throat. Zechs!

The temptation to turn and check on his lover was so great he had to bite his lip to keep his attention focused on the attackers. He aimed carefully and fired off his energy-packed magazine, then looked up. A figure in field gray had slumped beneath a wagon, the wind flapping a bandage that had come loose from his head. He could hear Zechs change powerpacks again, and let out a breath of relief. Zechs was still shooting. He couldn't be too hurt.

Some of the soldiers were shooting from behind a metal-plate covered cart chained to a tree; he could hear the ricochet as gunfire from the forest hit the iron armor. Another group of troops began firing from a coal cart, half on, half off the road where horses had once dragged it, and then become trapped in the mud. They were aiming behind him, which meant at Zechs who was probably moving. Wufei lay down a wide arc of a blue-green power streak, the nature of which was a mystery to him. Trees ignited by his fire flashed brightly with flames and became torches of light. Steam rose from the melting ice on the ground. Men wailed in fear. He doubted any were hurt, but it stopped their attack, enabling Zechs to scoot up to his side.

"Are you all right?" Wufei asked.

"Yes. You?"

"Of course." Wufei actually gave him an apologetic little ghost of a smile for his snappish retort. "We have to get out of this. I know a village not far. Through the forest."

"I agree." Zechs said and nodded to clear the bangs from his eyes.

"You go first," Wufei said. "Take the horses and I'll cover you. We will need a diversion after that."

"I have just the thing." Zechs dug out a small round ball with a twist of string at one end.

Wufei recognized it at once. He'd seen Duo put it in his hand before leaving, telling Zechs to "Light it then run like hell."

"We should give Duo's gift a test."

"It will work," Wufei assured him. Duo had gained much expertise as a Rover and friend to Howard. "Of that I have no doubt." He changed to the recharged power pack and took aim.

Zechs ran, dragging the frightened horses with him then whistled for Wufei to move. His bursts of eldritch flame shut down the men firing on Zechs, but once he let up shots pursued him into the forest. Something exploded into the tree as he passed. A piece of shredded bark hit his cheek, stinging.

"Now!" he shouted to Zechs. He dove for his horse and leaped into the saddle. For an instant he saw a twinkle of light in Zechs' hand then the toss.

They spurred their horses to action and he counted, "One, two, three..."

The explosion lit up the sky and even though they had ridden a good way into the woods, the noise frightened their steeds and nearly knocked them off their footing.

He rode next to Zechs and heard him swearing. "Damn powerful...!"

Wufei had to admire the otherwise uncivilized (in his opinion) Rover who had created the little bomb. Duo Maxwell understood what to do with explosives from L5, and Wufei respected that.

"Winton's not far." Wufei took the lead and rode with care, zigzagging through the forest, following a narrow, worn trail rimmed with treacherous ice. He listened to the sound of a single horse behind him, Zechs' fine mare. No one followed them.

The people of Winton were a combination of L5 colonists, traders, misfits- Rovers in general. The two men could hide out all winter in a village like that, and pick their way to Sanc with the spring thaw.

The Rovers were looking for them. There was a message with a proposal from one of Howard's connections. There was a cache of new weapons not far away. It would be so beneficial to the cause if Wufei and Zechs would lend a hand.

"After what I've seen, the damage, the senseless destruction," Zechs said, "if I can assist L5 in their fight to exist, I wish to be constructive and be of service."

Wufei glowed with pride and the show of loyalty. "I can do no less, of course."

Detailed instructions came next, all word of mouth, leaving no trail of messages. What took form was a delicate, dangerous series of missions that would take the two men eventually to Sanc. When everyone was satisfied with the plans, dinner was served, a hardy one with venison, bread, ale, and, surprisingly, a delicious apple tart.

The two travelers climbed into their shared bed both for warmth and affection. It was easier this time. Wufei was becoming accustomed to being naked in bed with the man, and Zechs was so very, very accommodating. Light from a half moon shown around the heavy curtains, reflecting off long, slivery hair and absorbing into black. Pale limbs intertwined.

"We are opposites in appearance," Wufei noted, twirling a swatch of white hair with a loose tendril of his own black.

"Uh." Zechs was closer to being asleep and nonverbal.

"I am short in stature. My hair is black-"

"Black like the silk of your flowing pants."

"Yours is white-"

"As my formal uniform made for a tall man." Zechs smiled. "Just look at those eyes-"

"I see yours. Steely grey."

"I see yours, like coals, burning with the fire of the dragon."

"I'll show you fire-" he promised, knowing he had so very little experience to back up his vow.

"Permit me show you how much I appreciate your spirit of adventure," Zechs murmured.

Maybe, Wufei thought, Zechs just admired his pluck. "I ca-an...oh!"

When he felt the velvety, warm mouth on his length, he shut up. The hand rolling his balls felt so good, he moaned. The finger circling his overly-sensitive hole forced words from his mouth he'd never used around royalty.

And Zechs chuckled. And that vibrated up and down his groin and he squirmed and cried out. "Yes!"

Wufei had always prided himself on being a good student, and analyzed what his lover could do to him that he had never in all his wildest dreams imagined men did to one another. Then he applied himself and returned the favor. Touches that Zechs liked, or that drove him crazy, Wufei learned. He was a fast study and let his passion direct his moves. They made love as if it might be their last chance, while promising to be there for the other forever.

Afterwards, they cleaned up and talked about this and that.

And then Zechs surprised him with a question. "On your thigh is a dragon tattoo. You never spoke of it before. Is it significant?"

"My clan's mark. We shall return and inherit the earth," Wufei said with a mysterious air. "Part of our mythos. It's said that when fire comes from the Dragon's Tooth, our people will pour from the cracks and fill the valley-and take it for ours, laying waste to your history."

"My, I hope I'm immune from this cleansing of the Sanc Kingdom, what with all the arms I'm helping move to support L5?"

"It might help buy forgiveness," he said and smiled. "But these are the people of the vast orient who live beyond the mountains. There are millions."

"Really?!"

"As I understand, yes. Don't worry too much, though. It's just a story."

Wufei had many stories to tell, all new to Zechs. It turned out to be a Godsend because they were caught in Winton, shuffling arms, and sometimes transporting them many hundreds of miles the rest of the winter. In fact, it wouldn't be until spring and the thaws that they would be able to begin their ultimate mission.

(o) Quatre's pov

"These numbers must have a pattern," Quatre declared.

"An extraordinary sequencer is creating these," Instructor H said. He twisted the tip on one moustache and patted his extended belly. He was rather fat, with a receding hairline and a thin, dark mustache that stood straight out at each end. He wore a country jacket with narrow shoulders and a thick wool tie. He moved over to let the imposing Master O in his shimmering silks examine the latest message spies had intercepted from Khushrenada. "Familiar?"

"Thank you, I do recognize this," Master O said. "That was my invention. Dermail's troops must have stolen it when they attacked L5."

"Excellent!" said Instructor H. "You can build another one and decipher this then."

"Yes," Master O declared. "I have several mockups that need only the fine tuning to match the gearing required. An afternoon's work and we can begin decrypting."

"What will you do with the information?" Quatre asked.

"I don't know," Instructor H replied with a smile, which made him look particularly creepy. "I suppose if there was troop movement information, we could let the Rovers know. Maybe stop a battle? Maybe disrupt the flow of goods?"

"Become a snag in their war machine, you're saying?" Quatre mused. "We must be careful, however, not to do too much or we might expose whomever it was that got us this message."

"You always were a clever boy," H said. He laughed and walked away with the other inventor. "And have grown to become an even more shrewd young man. In this instance, you are entirely correct. There will be difficult decisions to be made in the future."

It wasn't long before that future became the present, and Quatre felt the time had come to leave the laboratory if he was ever to be reunited with Trowa.

If only Trowa was here, he wished.

The sun started to shine and stay in the sky longer. The air filled with the scent of growing things and damp ground. Spring. Not like the springs he'd known in L4, with the sudden showers and the vast blooming desert that lasted only a week or two before the sun burned the tiny plants to dust. No, not like that at all. In L3 it was a subtle change. The ice was melting.

"Why, Rashid," Quatre cried out. He hadn't seen the man in two days. Personal business, he'd said. "I thought you'd be gone longer. Is everything all right?"

"Everything is as it is," the man said. "No better, no worse. I was wondering, my prince..."

Something was not right at all, Quatre could tell; he could feel it in his bones. "Rashid, please, tell me what it is that's troubling you so."

There was some hemming and hawing but at last Rashid gave in. "If I may speak...frankly....?"

"Oh, I know what that means," Quatre replied. "You have one of those father-son talks on your mind."

The big man colored slightly. "I, ah... yes. You could put it that way."

"Then sit. I'm boiling water for tea. We will do this like the friends and compatriots we both are."

After tea and a quiet moment gave Rashid time to gather himself, Quatre sat back. "Now then, what are we to discuss?"

"Trowa Barton."

"Him? I see. I know you don't approve-"

"I do not approve of your relationship and I made my feelings clear from the beginning-but that is not my primary concern."

"Go on."

"The Maguanacs are sworn protectors of the colony. Our bloodlines go back to the times before it was a colony, to when it was a sovereign sheikhdom of its own. We will always give our lives for our land. Your father's father was one of us."

"Yes, he's always prided himself to have that heritage, even if he has not himself been a part of your brotherhood."

Rashid lowered his head in a bow of gratitude. "The alliance with Sanc has long met with our disapproval."

Quatre hadn't known that. His mother had been from Sanc, for instance, and the shock must have registered on his face, because the older man quickly clarified his remark.

"A non-threatening disapproval."

"I understand. I think we need to maintain good relations with the Sanc Kingdom, to whom we technically owe allegiance and share a border, but I do wish they would leave us alone to manage our affairs." Quatre smiled. "I am beginning to sound like Trowa, aren't I?"

"Only in your spirit of independence," Rashid said. "Of which you have my, complete approval."

"Then what is the problem, if it isn't primarily my being with Trowa or my feelings of independence?"

"A moment more of your patience, my master. Your union with the princess of Sanc concerned us a great deal. Your... progeny... our colony's future would be bound to that of the Sanc Kingdom and entangle L4 further-"

"Pardon me, but don't you believe I considered that myself?"

"I am gladdened to know that. As less and less of the blood of the Maguanacs flows through the heart of our land's leadership, the further adrift-"

"How do I fix that?! Quatre interrupted again. "I have refused the union with Sanc and if I remain with a man there will be no heirs at all."

Rashid smiled for the first time. "You would adopt an heir, assign one."

"Yes, I could do that. I haven't thought about it at all, of course."

"Of course, you are not yet Sheikh of L4. You are young and have many years to contemplate such things."

"Or maybe not. Is that what you are worried about? That I might die in this... uprising and leave L4 without a replacement?"

"In part." Before Quatre was ready for it, Rashid switched his approach. "My prince, have you considered what Master Barton has to gain from a... union with you?"

His chin lifted with pride. "We're in love," Quatre said. "He gains that." Seeing that Rashid was less than impressed by that revelation, he deflated a little. "Oh, Rashid, I was only an encumbrance on the road for him, as you saw, so it isn't my fighting power that he wants. The doctors have been the greatest benefactors of my skills, actually."

"Yes, they have been. You've been most useful and their products will be powerful weapons in the right hands."

"The hands of the Maguanacs, you mean?" Quatre guessed.

"Yes. We are the colony's protectors." Rashid's eyebrows drew together and twitched, making Quatre think of fighting furry caterpillars. "Trowa Barton, have you seen him since the attack?"

This was a terribly sore spot in Quatre's heart. He missed him. He hadn't seen or heard from him in weeks. "No."

"That does not worry you?" Rashid asked. "Does his love run so shallow that it can be turned aside by the first rock in its path?"

"I-I don't know. I'm sure he's very busy. I would think if he were hurt someone would let me know, wouldn't you?"

"You were injured and he never came to see you," Rashid reminded him, and then more gently added, "He's not hurt. He has passed through town twice."

"He has? And he hasn't stopped to see me?" Quatre's voice cracked, his chest tightened painfully.

"There may be many good reasons for this, including not wanting to draw attention to your whereabouts. I do not know his motives."

"But you don't like him? Why are you supporting him now?"

"I didn't say I did not like the man or believe in his cause. I have not advocated for your relationship with him, or any man."

"Oh." Quatre sat, dispirited, face buried in his hands.

"It might not be so wrong. I may be wrong. Two men leading a country newly freed and unregulated by the dominating kingdom might be seen as a demonstration of strength. Just-"

"-What?"

"Know what drives him. Use this, your gift." Rashid placed a hand over the heart of his prince. "Learn the man's motivations. Be sure. Be certain it is you, and not the power of your position, that he loves."

"And if I am sure, then you'll support me, help us?"

"Of course. I am here, am I not? Besides, I have your heir picked out already."

"My... who?! How could...? Who?"

"My son, of course, with your approval."

"Your... I didn't know you had a son. Who?"

"Tem, is his youth name. He's just a boy. You wouldn't know him from the flock of wild boys that run through the streets."

"That's a dangerous thing to talk about, you know," Quatre said.

"Your replacement? Only if you name him, can that ever be. And... not for a long time. Ten years at least. "

"Let's say one day I become sheikh-"

"May God protect the sheikh," Rashid murmured the litany. He wasn't suggesting there be an assassination!

"Oh, yes... this is a long ways in the future," Quatre corrected with a smile. "I am sheikh with Trowa at my side and I declare your son my heir-should anything happen to me, you would be the first suspected of the crime, you know."

"Then I shall have to be ever so diligent in my watchfulness, my master." He smiled and Quatre returned it.

"When he turns eighteen, then." Quatre touched his forehead, lips, and chest as a symbol of oath made. "Thank you for reminding me of my responsibilities," Quatre said, rising. "I promise to think about all you have said, if you swear to me one thing."

"You have my word of honor." Rashid repeated the gesture: with my thoughts, words, and heart.

"Next time Trowa comes to town, let me know. I will see him no matter what."

"As you wish, Master Quatre."

(o) Heero's pov

Heero liked the arms trafficking job. He respected the fantastical weapons, revered the anonymous doctors and inventors. He might admit, if Duo pressed him, that he loved his buster rifle a little too much. The job was as good as anything he'd done before, plenty of fun and challenges, and fabulous company in Duo. He adored Duo. He loved L2 and the countryside they traversed. He was absolutely sure that he had never been happier in his entire life.

"Wanna have a little fun?" Duo asked him.

This was Fairfield's market day. They'd picked up delicious bread and cheese and washed it down with a local herb tea. Heero was in a great mood to do something new.

"Yeah," Heero said.

"Then go ask the local grocer to give you a pile of too-old-to-sell winter squash."

"I will," Heero said, and then more cautiously asked, "Why?"

Duo grinned and he thought that would be his only reply, but then he said, "So you and I can play what I call 'a real man's dodge ball.'"

Heero asked for and received the rotting vegetables and they proceeded to throw them at each other, dodging glop and seed flying through the air, avoiding harming the locals, but eventually getting run out of town.

So that was fun.

His life with Duo was full of fun times like that.

They walked their horses pulling the wagon through and around the muddy road and talked about this and that, trading bits of life stories, nothing too heavy. Heero had a sudden sense of home, of knowing where he was. The sky filled with torn clouds, tinted red by the sunset over the foothills, empty fields stretched away from the little road, boundary lines marked by groves of birch and poplar. The land turned to wild meadow, where the winter grass hissed and swayed in the evening wind. It was very beautiful, very lost. These blissful, blood-soaked valleys, he thought.

They drove south in the last of the daylight, the afternoon fading away to a long, languid dusk.

"Sorry 'bout the road," Duo said.

"It's not your fault," Heero said. "I'm sure it's decent enough when it's dry."

It wasn't his old home, though, Heero knew. It was L2, but it felt like home. They drove the wagonload of arms over the rutted road, Duo weaving them around dark mud holes.

A tiny village, then another and another. Chert, Silt, Ferris. One after another. Winter in L2, snowless and damp, awakened memories long hidden: he must have roamed there as a child.

"Yeah, at least the passes are open unless rain's caused a rock fall or washed out a bridge," Duo said.

The land, field and meadow, was dark, empty. At last they came upon a village-a dozen log houses at the edge of the road, windows lit by oil lamps. A few sheds and barns. The dogs barked at them as they went past.

"It's not far from here," Duo said, squinting as he tried to peer into the gloom ahead on the road.

The wagon's carriage lights gave off a dull amber glow. Just as the countryside turned to forest, Duo stopped the horses, jumped to the ground, and walked up the road. A minute later, he returned. He was grinning again.

"Believe in miracles," he said. "I found it."

They left the wagon, Heero carrying a crate, Duo with a satchel, and started walking. The silence was immense; there was only the wind and the sound of their footsteps on the mucky road.

"It's right there," Duo said.

Heero stared then saw a path in the underbrush between two towering beech trees.

"We take this to the drop off and wait," Duo said.

"Is that much further?" The crate was heavy and he was carrying it.

"No, what is it with you and walking? It's fine weather. Great night to be out getting fresh air and exercise. You getting soft on me?"

"I'd rather be getting hard and getting off on you someplace safe." Heero waited for Duo to smile back.

They walked for another ten minutes then Duo slowed.

"This be da place."

Heero saw a dry root at the foot of a tree, settled the crate so it didn't rock and would stay dry, and sat on it. He gave Duo a hard candy and took one for himself. Lemon drops, they were called, he'd bought them in Plank or Drain or some other one-syllable name. Villages of L2 seemed to proliferate like mushrooms from the mossy undergrowth.

Clouds blew over the moon. Stars blinked. They heard footfalls and grabbed weapons, holding them at the ready.

"Yo, ho, Scriber Joe!" Duo shouted when he recognized the Rover's gait.

"Shinigami, well met. Whatcha got me?"

"Box of chocolates," Duo joked. "Wantcha to meet Heero, my new right hand man. 'Ro, this here is Joe, an arms dealer of the best kind."

"No one's taking my town without payin'," the man said. "Friend of Shini's is a friend of mine, Heero."

"Nice to meet you Joe," Heero said, shaking hands.

"Well, we should be getting on our way," Duo said. What was done was done, why talk about it.

"Hold up a minute. I got something for you," Joe said. "Just a message...hold on...it's long. Here."

Duo took it, thanked his comrade, but waited to open it until he was out of sight to talk to Heero. "Let's go back to the wagon where there's a light. I got the feeling this next job's going to be complicated."

TBC...

Chapter 9

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