"Why Me?"

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, language, male x male

Pairings: 1x2, 3x4

Summary: Trowa is pushed into dating Duo in order for Heero to see what he lost, realize his mistakes, and get back together. Will that work? Really?

A/N: This was started years ago and I resurrected it and Waterlily edited it, for which I am very grateful. Hope you like it!

"Why Me? "

Chapter 2

(o) Heero's POV continued

What I needed was an afternoon pick-me-up. Coffee would do.

On my way to the coffee station, I was nearly bowled over by Chang, flitting directly to his office.

"That guy ought to take it easy or he'd have a coronary before he hits twenty," commented an agent in passing.

"Yes," I agreed.

Chang needed a companion in his life to be at peace. Duo had said so and said that Quatre had said so, too, and they were in tune with human needs, which made me painfully aware of my own currently unmet needs. I needed my lover back, my heart, but I also needed someone for balance, to share interests with and field a few relationship questions every so often to complete the whole. Someone more than just a comrade in arms, or possibly a dog.

Wufei had been talking about getting a dog recently, and he already had a cat and a bird and a recently acquired aquarium of cichlids, following his trip to the tropics. I doubted pets were doing it for him.

I successfully traced the fastest path to the coffee station, when a cozy scene opened in front of me. There was Duo standing head-to-head with Trowa Barton. Duo was doing most of the talking as I neared. Not an uncommon situation.

"Cool. It's a date, then," he said, in fact.

I'd wanted Duo to find another job elsewhere; being lovers and working daily together and my gentle suggestions, which he claimed were "pressuring him" to find a less demanding job, had "put a strain on our relationship," not to mention the harrowing adventures he'd landed in more than once.

A month ago, our argument got out of hand. He packed a bag and moved out of our apartment that same day, telling me, "I'm 'relieving the strain', as you put it, faster this way."

I hadn't put it that way, he had. Idiot.

Also, 'relieving the strain' hadn't been what I'd meant or how I felt at all, but he'd been uncooperative when I'd tried to get together to talk things over and then he'd retreated mostly to avoidance-mode around me. Still, I had hopes that he'd thought about what I'd said, seen the truth of it, and possibly started looking for an alternate job.

Maybe that was this "date" he was referring to? With Trowa I knew the direct approach was best; with Duo, well, he knew to expect it from me, so I just asked flat out. "What is?"

"Not that it's your business," Duo said to me, more sharply than I deserved, "but Trowa and I are going out tonight."

Very funny.

Suddenly, Duo was leaving, and I was left standing alone at the coffee urn with Trowa.

"Have fun." I said automatically to his retreating back; I didn't think he'd heard me, but it didn't really matter, since I'd been sarcastic.

Barton looked after him, ashen-faced. I nearly told him not to worry, that I understood how Duo's tactless humor was often inappropriate, but that might have actually insulted the guy. I mean, Trowa had known Duo as long as I had and was used to cynicism; he was the ironic cynic maestro (Duo's words). So, instead I just caught his one green eye and stared, driving in the fact that I understood. I did that until he blinked and then we both parted with empty mugs.

Staring past the dried crust at the bottom of my coffee mug, I saw the image of my own eye.

On reflection, what if it was true? What if Trowa and Duo were actually going out together on a date as he'd stated? That would also explain Barton's shell-shocked manner on seeing me.

I didn't like the idea of Duo dating, but if it was Barton, it wouldn't go far because Winner would have a fit and-no, wait! Had they really called it quits?

The next thing I thought was "poor Quatre."

Obviously, my friends were insane.

I called Trowa and got his voicemail. If he'd wanted to talk, he'd have picked up. He knew who I was and where I was and he could guess at the why with the best of them.

Since I couldn't talk to my friend and knew Duo wouldn't talk to me, I decided to call Quatre and set up a date of our own. Get the facts. He'd need someone to console him, as Merquise had suggested, and I could use his logical and scheming mind to find a way out of the quagmire my life had become.

I called the Thai restaurant and secured reservations first. I liked Thai, that's why I chose it. And it was new. Then I called Quatre Raberba Winner.

"Heero? Is that you? How nice a surprise."

"I heard the news."

"News? What news? Oh, about Trowa and me, well yes..."

"We could talk."

"Tonight?"

He invited me up to his skyline condo, adding, "I need to change after work."

Considering Quatre's habits, that could take forever before we had dinner.

"You're dressed now, I take it?" I asked.

"Yes! Of course! I just meant I could clean up a little before-"

"Not necessary," I told him, because it wasn't. It was just me. A little dirt and a wrinkle or two wouldn't matter. "I'll pick you up at work and then dinner and then when you get home you can change into anything you want."

He laughed. "All right."

"I was thinking-" or Zechs had placed the thought in my head, "of the new Thai restaurant."

"That would be wonderful."

The way he said made me shiver. I could feel sparkles in his voice spewing forth from the phone and landing on me. They stuck and I felt the tingling the rest of the afternoon.

No, actually, it was just a pinched nerve from typing too much. The tingling let up just before the end of the day, when I shut down my computer for the weekend. I avoided running into anyone wanting to waylay me into unnecessary conversation, left the building, and picked up Quatre outside the office building where he worked.

"You could have come in," he remarked. "You didn't have to buzz me and wait."

"Would we be here if I had?"

His confused expression meant I had to explain. "I would have gone up and then waited while you finished a few calls and offered to give me a tour and who know what else. We wouldn't have gotten here in the car for another hour."

He just shook his head, not saying anything until he'd buckled up and I'd pulled away from the curb. "You are so driven."

Duo had accused me of that too, but then he'd "loved me for it", he'd said. And I had believed him.

"You are a control freak," I shot back.

"Me?! I am not!"

"Yes, you are. You make everyone wait while you dither."

He leaned over and whispered into my ear, a surprisingly sexy move. "Such a smooth talker you are, Heero. And honest. So refreshing from my other...dates."

"Hn." What else was there to say to a comment like that?

He gripped the armrests while I steered us through dense Friday night downtown traffic and into a gated parking lot.

"Miss flying?" he asked.

"No. I'm happy with my feet planted on Earth." Then I noticed his hands were a little shaky. I know Trowa drove like a maniac, so he ought to have been used to my skillful maneuvering. Still, his day may have been a nerve-wracking one, so I apologized before he could. "Sorry."

"For what?"

"The rush."

"Oh, yes, well, I usually take my time leaving work and avoid the crowded routes." He smiled and I smiled.

"Duly noted."

The restaurant was packed. I was pleased to have reservations so we could be seated immediately. Out of habit, I scanned the dining room, examining the other people. Duo would have speculated I was looking out for enemies. He knew me so well.

All clear, what I could see of it. There were several areas blocked by pots of bamboo.

We were shown to a window table, as requested, where I could sit and observe the other diners. I was wondering whether or not to request the potted plants be removed so I could my visibility would be improved when Quatre made approving noises.

"What a lovely view!" Quatre exclaimed, staring out the window from ten floors up.

I liked the location, too, just not the bamboo barricades, but I decided to drop that suggestion. He thanked the server. We sat and watched as our candle was ignited and water glasses filled, and then the man left us.

"I think you might be interested in my latest project." Quatre reached under his lapel and withdrew a hand-sized computer. Model unknown.

"I'm interested in that." I loved small techno devices, the more powerful the better, and his was the latest. No. It wasn't even available on the market yet. I knew the market.

"This? It's in test. I'll order you one to beta."

"Thank you."

"I want you to see what I have stored on it. Here...I've been working on this, ah-," he paused and handed me his computer; as in, he let me extract it from his shaking hands.

I adored the device, light as a feather, excellent clarity. "What's this?" On the view screen, I recognized Wing Gundam Zero as a transformable mobile suit diagram. "What are you doing?" I asked, and not gently.

I must have sounded as if I was accusing him of murder, grand theft, and mayhem, because he sounded defensive. That was my fault. But Wing Zero? That was hazardous tech!

"It's mine." He pressed the tablecloth crease smooth, which was quieter than pounding with his fist. "I still own the manufacturing rights."

Even though it was based on a design by five long-dead engineers-but I didn't say that. "I suppose, technically."

He had also operated the Mobile suit and the Zero system, but not without doing himself harm. That harm turned out to be temporary, thankfully. All the Gundam pilots had their turn behind the controls of Zero at one time or other and with mixed results. Only Zechs Merquise and I had the capacity- not skill, which was only a small part of controlling it and something all the Gundam pilots had- to operate it without mental breakdown.

"Yes, I do," he assured me as he signaled the sommelier for the legal drug list comprised of champagne, wine, local brews, and a few aperitifs.

I scrolled past the picture and read the highlights. "Armored with Gundanium alloy and powered by an ultra-compact fusion reactor with no ultimate power rating on the upper limits ever measured."

"Oh, it was measured," he assured me with a sly smile, "just never recorded."

"I'll have... whatever you do." I had more important things on my mind now than alcoholic depressants.

What put Wing Zero above all other units, was the cockpit's "Zero System". ZERO was an acronym for Zoning and Emotional Range Omitted. I once had suggested they add a "D", ZEROD, for deadly, but Duo had joked about "Ze Masterful Heero and ze rod of death" enough to get me to drop the idea. When he miss-spoke and called it "Ze Rod of Desire" I couldn't look him in the eye for a week. That was many, many years and a war ago.

Duo. I missed him. Before my thoughts drifted into a melancholy crater of my own making, Quatre's voice cut in.

"You'll recall that the 'Zero System' allowed the pilot's mind to interface directly with the Gundam's combat computer. Just open that bottle and pour. I know it's good," he said to the man who appeared ready to do the cork sniff and tiny taste test. "I'm sorry," he apologized to the man next, "but I own the vineyard, so I really do know."

"Very good, sir," the man smiled and poured and good manners presided once again. He left us the bottle and swept away with his linen and fancy opener.

"What do you know of the exact nature of the Zero System's operation?" I asked, probing at what Quatre was getting at having this information at his fingertips, carrying it in his pocket close to his heart.

"It's very technical, but in short," and he lowered his voice, "it 'sampled' the pilot's thoughts, combining them with incoming combat data before presenting the pilot with various alternate outcomes."

I knew that much. "You're dancing around the 'sampling' part," I noted.

He just sipped his wine and blinked.

"And that 'presentation' left much room for improvement," I said with a slight smile to take the edge off any accusation he might think I was making. I wasn't trying to place all the blame on Quatre- what Zero had done was frightful, but not intentionally so.

"Yes." Quatre swallowed a gulp full of his wine. "Unfortunately, the technology was unrefined; sometimes the data stream flooded the user's mind, overwhelming him so that he couldn't assimilate it."

"More often than not."

If the pilot could make sense of all that data, depending on the pilot's mood, the Zero System could tell him how to achieve total victory, or decisive defeat. While conceivably this could have given pilots an unprecedented advantage by presenting them with the best possible course of action, accessing the pilot's mind had the unhappy side-effect of driving the pilot insane. The mental stresses the Zero System placed on the pilot were mostly too great for any ordinary human to handle, and even the five mad scientists that designed it originally saw the potential danger of their work.

I had thought these plans had been destroyed, but there they were, the schematics for "Zero System" merrily scrolling across the screen. "I didn't think you'd have saved these," I told him. Or that anyone should have salvaged any part of it.

I looked up to stare into his eyes. That told me more about what he was thinking. He didn't hide as well as Barton or I did.

There was pain in that expression, and something else, and then he smiled. "Funny, isn't it? I'm more than a little obsessed with this, I know."

That could have explained his borderline nervousness around me. He'd rearranged his service-ware twice, and since he'd moved his napkin to his lap I hadn't seen his hands.

"At least you are aware of your excesses." As I wish Duo was. But, I didn't want to start thinking about Duo again-not tonight. "I would have thought Zero would be the last thing you'd want ever to see again."

He leaned forward, a hand appearing to brush the bangs from his eyes. His eyes looked shiny and very bright blue in the candle light. "I suppose I should be better company or you won't want to see me again."

Oh, right. This was supposed to be a date. I consumed my wine like it was water, letting my meta-metabolism take care of its effects. "Some people might question our choice of subjects-for a date." I emphasized the word "date" mostly to convince myself it was.

"We aren't ordinary people, though, are we? Trowa and I never actually dated. He just moved in and we went on with life."

"Duo and I...We never dated either," I said, thinking about that. "It was as if ... I don't think either of us had any idea what a date was or how to go about it."

"Dating would have been a waste of time, probably. You already knew each other. That's how it was with us; besides, Trowa had nothing and I had it all. It wouldn't have been fair."

"I'm sure you could have worked that out. Anyway, we aren't together anymore. None of us. Do you think that's what caused our problems? Trying to share lives before we were ready-?"

"-I don't think so." He said that quickly, so much so that the words came out nearly before I'd finished with my comment. "I think we shouldn't take our lovers for granted."

Again, he blinked and smiled as if he was keen on pleasing me and anxious as hell, and then relief washed over him as the server returned. "Oh, the menus! Good I'm starving."

We ordered food, dropped the heart-to-heart for a while, and then, I saw something suspicious flying out from behind a potted bamboo. Had it been a braid? Speaking of out-of-the-ordinary people, could that be Duo in the dining room? I stood and craned my neck to the side.

"It's him! Them!" I blurted out. I couldn't believe my eyes. Duo Maxwell and Trowa Barton here. At the same restaurant.

Oh! Was this the date Duo had announced?

I could see Trowa's lips move and then Duo, seeking us out and mouthing, "Holy crap!"

Quatre twisted around in his chair and rose to his feet. "Oh, I see. Well, we can have a nice time over here without them, can't we?" He sounded completely unfazed by what he'd seen, although a tiny frown creased a line between his eyebrows; it came and then it went in the course of a split second.

"Yes." I'd have a good time if it killed me, or someone.

Suddenly I had an armful of slender male and a face full of blond hair as Quatre wrapped me in a tight hug.

"You're such a good friend!" He said it so sincerely I stopped thinking of murdering him; I only imagined shoving him out of my space and through the plate-glass window.

He returned to his chair as our appetizers were delivered. It gave me time to think without talking. I had already polished off my first glass of wine and was well into my second before Quatre had half-emptied his first. I didn't even like wine. I had also counted wrong; I was on my third.

Another of those tiny, fleeting frowns lined Quatre's brow and then he reached into a pocket for his phone and stared. "I'll just shut this off for tonight," he told me with a forced smile. "Just you and me tonight."

"I feel honored."

He clicked his glass to the top of mine and said, "Cheers!"

I murmured something and topped off my glass with a bit more wine and forced myself not to turn so I could watch Duo. In order not to obsess about him and what he and Trowa were up to at the other table, I thought back to a time when Quatre was less stable-even less stable. How truly, completely balanced Winner was these days was questionable, now that I knew he was back to messing with some form of the Zero System.

There was a time when he had tipped the scales to the dark side. That wasn't far in the distant past. Not more than a few years ago, unfortunate circumstances placed a seriously mentally imbalanced Quatre Raberba Winner in space without his beloved Gundam Sandrock. He'd been reeling from the death of his father and had become enemies with the very space colonists he was fighting to free, when he discovered the abandoned work of the five scientists.

Was this his way of reaching out for help? I'd make it my duty to keep him out of trouble this time.

"You were the builder of Wing Zero." I wanted him to feel it was okay, that I was okay with everything. "That alone would have been an unforgettable experience."

"Oh, it was!" Quatre laughed in a totally carefree manner, as if he hadn't cared about the dangers of the Zero System then, and didn't appear to mind now. "One would think that having destroyed an entire space colony would have been enough to get Zero out of my system," he joked weakly.

And nearly killed Trowa, don't forget that detail. Unless he possibly wouldn't mind ridding himself of the man now? Who knew? Not I. "It was an interesting technology," I admitted, scuttling for the safety of dull commentary.

"I think so, too. I'm so relieved. Trowa hasn't been very supportive," he revealed. "I've needed someone to talk to about all this."

"I'm sure he was thinking mostly of your safety." And his. Who could blame Trowa?

"And his." He chuckled lightly into his glass as he tasted his wine.

His echoing my thoughts startled me into looking up. He appeared awfully untroubled for having recently broken up with "the love of his life". I sure hadn't bounced back, even after a month.

"Ummm, these cheese-stuffed peppers are tasty!" he said. "Try one?"

His appetite hadn't suffered either, I observed. "Sure."

"And I don't blame him for the warnings. I'm not stupid, Heero! I just needed a little help. Being around something dangerous and totally unstable-."

"Are we talking about you or the system?" I asked, meaningfully, but knowing I could intimidate him if I looked too serious, I tagged on a smile and his face lit.

"Ha! Both?" He chugged half his glass of wine before continuing on. "I remember a lot of that event, believe it or not. Things like... I was unable to tell the difference between friend and foe."

"You were strong enough to come through intact," I reminded him.

"I know. So many men suffered mental breakdowns and death."

I had a clear memory of the latter occurring, when some fool OZ soldier obsessed with the capabilities of Wing Zero and the ZERO system got his hands on the suit and challenged the pilot of Deathscythe Hell. That contest had ended predictably with the OZ guy going insane and dying during the battle.

Duo managed to come out just fine. I remembered Duo screaming, and his cackling laughter following. "And another one bites the dust. Oh, yeah, oh yeah!"

God. Why couldn't I get Duo out of my mind for just one night?

Possibly Quatre's thoughts tracked mine right down to that battle, because he hopped up from the table-again- and gave me a quick hug. "I'm sorry about you and Duo."

I had been clutching a glass of water and spilled a little of it in the process. "Hn." I nodded and shimmied a shoulder loose, followed by an arm, and I pushed him away-gently of course. "And you and Barton." I tried to sound sympathetic, even knowing said Barton was currently looking cozy over leafy greens with said Duo.

"Trowa? Oh, yes, of course. Well..."

He sounded for a second there as if he'd forgotten who I was talking about. Had Trowa really meant so little to him? I couldn't believe that. I decided he must have been putting on an act, a pretty good one.

Our dinners arrived, cutting off whatever he'd been about to add, and food took center stage. I was on my fourth glass of wine and felt I could use the protein from whatever source it was I'd ordered.

When I thought I saw his hands flutter like butterflies flitting over a meadow and land on the computer, I regretted ingesting all that wine. I must have imbibed at a faster rate than my body was prepared to process, so I chugged some water and carved up more of the meat on my plate. I let him take back the device so that he'd sit back down and guide the conversation into safer territory.

That this was an unusual date was starting to register with me. There were probably deep-seated psychological reasons why I never got into the swing of dating. Yes, mind-bending, insanity-causing death machines made safer topics than discussing my feelings for the most important person in my life sitting just slightly more than 20 feet away.

"Do you mind?" Winner asked politely, if not unsteadily, fingers poised above the keyboard. "I'm just dying to show you something."

"Go ahead." Die. Show. Anything.

He flipped to another view of Wing Zero and passed me the computer again. I found myself staring directly into the "search eye," and had trouble controlling the urge to shallow hard. I'd used the eye in combat as a device to gather data that the cameras and antennas overlooked. "I always preferred how it returned the information in immediately useful form, instantly calculating the precise position, movement, and weak points of an opponent for me," I said, conscious that he'd know what I meant and appreciate the same things.

"Elegant, wasn't it? It was the same type used by the Shenlong Gundam-the search eye only." Quatre folded his arms over his chest. "I've studied them all, the schematics, but the Zero just draws me in."

I jumped. "Me, too. I thought it was just an after effect of having used it or a fixation that I had since I'd used it longer than anyone else."

"And it might be one or the other or both, but it is something only you and I share."

Before I could contradict or question his facts, he added, "Zechs, for instance, has never given it a second thought."

"Well, his brains were scrambled in other ways," I muttered under my breath, but Quatre heard me and laughed quietly.

"The Lightening Count," he said. "How terrible to have to live up to that name. Not that is was a misnomer. His reactions were quick."

I took the obvious setup, wondered aloud, "Which ones?" and smirked as my "date" laughed. Yes, I wasn't so mature not to take cheap shots. I studied a page of code while imagining my old nemesis "getting off" in record time.

Zechs Merquise had used the Search Eye of the Wing Gundam Zero to track down the Gundam Epyon and its pilot, who'd been me at the time. We never really settled our score, either. That guy had always bugged me and still did.

And yet, I'd let Zechs talk me into this date. Such as it was.

"So, what about that new project of yours?" I asked. "This looks like code for interfacing two different devices together."

"You are looking at it."

"You're building a-" I lowered my voice to a whisper and leaned forward. "-a Gundam? Tell me you're joking."

"Oh, Heero! I didn't mean that. All right, not exactly. I'm simply modeling a Zero-like system and utilizing the "search eye" technology."

Oh, is that all? That's so much simpler. "There's nothing simple about you or what you do, Winner. Oh, don't give me that innocent look either. I know you, remember?"

"Ha! I guess you do! Well, I'd been thinking about that Zero system for some time." He chuckled again, and I was sure he was jittery. "I just couldn't get it out of my mind, you might say."

"Are you giddy?" I felt light-headed from the alcohol and the noise he made was not at all like Duo's laughter. Was he having an anxiety attack? Trowa told me he could be a little skittish, but I hadn't been clear what he'd meant at the time.

"No! Heero, I was laughing. It was a joke."

"I heard it." Joke or not, I decided he'd had more than enough wine for the evening-I certainly had- and poured his remainder into my glass, and left it untouched, for the meantime. I hoped he'd eat more food, and demonstrated by stuffing a forkful of my...steak... past his pink lips.

And he removed the meat from the tines with his teeth... slowly... and then applied his lips... slowly.

I swallowed. Hard. It had been awhile since I'd been with Duo and there'd been no one else, so I permitted myself to react normally to sexual invitation, and not punish my thoughts. I could play along, knowing, pretty much, that neither of us was going to take advantage of the other's vulnerability.

I relaxed, smiled, and said in as gentle a tone as I could manage, "What I haven't heard is an explanation for your studying that dangerous... fascinating device."

He chewed and nodded as he handed down his judgment. "Delicious and tender."

He reached for his wine glass, noted that it was empty, as was the bottle, and signaled the waiter. I pushed his water glass closer and un-signaled the waiter.

The return of the tiny frown puckered his brow for an instant, fading away to reveal a speculative expression. When I tried, I was very good at reading faces. I just couldn't read faces of people who were better at hiding.

Quatre wasn't hiding much, that I could tell, or he was just manipulating me, showing me what he wanted me to see? Not that it mattered. I didn't care. I was enjoying his company, that of a good friend in the making, and his challenges, which included learning how to put him at ease around me. I wanted to study him and his hobby.

"I did have hope of combining the features and turning them into an interrogation device," he revealed smoothly.

NO! "Interrogation? Who-?"

And before I could complete that line of questioning, he followed one bombshell with another. "For development purposes, though, what I desperately need is someone who has used it successfully-"

Ah, ha. Here's where I came in. "Like me."

"Well, yes. There is Zechs Merquise as well-"

Immediately I said, "Leave him out of this. He was brain-damaged goods enough without another bout or two with Zero." My next reaction was "Count me in!" but first I'd like his response to a couple dozen questions that are piling up in my brain.

Then his handheld computer buzzed. "Excuse me; it must be urgent if they are attempting to contact me through this."

He stepped out of the way and I considered his words. Interrogation device? For whom, his business? Surely not. That would be unethical. For Preventers then? I would absolutely have to keep an eye on him. It's always the nice, peace-loving guys that have to be watched.

His call only took a moment and then he turned back and took my arm.

"I'd like to discuss the psychology of the zero system with you in detail. Let's go to my place where I can show you the R&D facility I'm considering, and since it's a bit out of the way for you, I can offer you a guest room. Unless you have pressing plans? Oh! Do you want dessert?"

Ah. No. "I don't care for sweets and I have no plans tonight. All right. I have a few questions of my own, as you can imagine."

I glanced over at the other table on our way out and caught Trowa putting away his cell phone while Duo seemed fully engaged with folding his napkin-a nervous habit of his.

"Ready to move on?" I heard Trowa ask him.

I wondered if I should stop and say something, when Quatre pressed his lips to mine. While my brain was totally consumed with that invasion, he broke it off, and slipped away.

"Ah..." was all I could utter.

Nice kiss. It totally short-circuited my previous line of inquiry. All my previous trains of thought had been derailed by that simple kiss. Damn hormones anyway.

"Thank you for the lovely dinner. Now, this way," Winner said. He tugged on my hand and dragged me away out the door.

Along the way, I wondered what I'd been intending to ask.

I wondered what I was getting myself into.

I wondered what it had been that Zechs had said to convince me that this would be a good idea.

I didn't wonder why Trowa hadn't been able to refuse this man anything.

TBC

Chapter 3

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