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"The Wedding Planner"Written By: Snowdragonct Disclaimer: Don't own any part of Gundam Wing or the characters, more's the pity. This is for fun...no profit involved. Warnings: AU, yaoi, some OOC, angst, potential lemon(s), sickening sappy fluff Pairings: to be announced, or it’d be too easy (but you know who I like) A/N: This idea hit me while I was driving somewhere, and I needed to start it before the inspiration faded. But it will take second place to Boot Camp and the sequel to Boot Camp, so I can’t promise regular or frequent updates. It’s probably totally predictable FLUFF, so you have been warned. And I’m trying out the world of first-person here, with point of view shifting between Heero and Duo (maybe others…not sure yet). Rating: NC 17 Summary: Heero isn't thrilled when Relena hires
someone to plan their wedding, but once he meets the young man, he's
downright unhappy. Duo Maxwell is friendly, good looking, and spending
way too much time with Relena...Heero's jealousy knows no bounds.
"The Wedding Planner"
Chapter Fifty Four: Love Hurts Duo’s Point of View Heero hadn’t been gone five minutes when I heard the clatter of footsteps on the stairs, and then Quatre was kneeling beside me. “Duo, are you okay?” “Fucking swell,” I gasped, still cradling my aching face in my hands. “Jesus, what’d he do?” came another voice. “Trowa—?” I looked up to see two images of the sexy bartender bending over Quatre’s shoulder. “Wow—c’n I have one?” “One what?” Quatre asked, rolling me onto my side and stuffing a handkerchief between my hands and my bleeding nose. “Tro’,” I managed hoarsely, wincing and groaning at a stab of pain from my ribs. “Ah—fuck! Broken rib,” I guessed aloud. “You’re going to the hospital,” Quatre announced. “No—nothin’ they can do—ribs gotta heal on their own.” “Goddamnit, Duo! You’re getting checked out and an x-ray!” Quatre snapped. I’d learned years earlier not to argue when Quatre started swearing, so I let Trowa and him haul me to my feet and half-carry me to the elevator. While we were waiting for the doors to open, I glanced over at Quatre. “What’re you doing here?” “Relena called.” “Bitch,” I growled, wondering what she’d told Heero to get him so angry. “This is all her fault anyway.” “Yes, she said something to that effect in her hysterical babbling,” Quatre said dryly. “I didn’t understand half of it, but I got the words ‘Heero,’ ‘Duo,’ and ‘kill,’ out of it. I thought I should get over here fast.” “So I guess I’m lucky t’be alive,” I muttered, leaning heavily on Trowa and the wall. “She say why he wants to kill me?” “As I said, those three words were all I gleaned out of our brief conversation,” Quatre insisted. “Care to fill me in?” On the way to the emergency room, I told Quatre and Trowa about Heero’s call, my visit to the estate, catching Relena with Geoffrey, and the ensuing chaos. Let me tell you, talking through a bloody handkerchief is harder than it looks—and it hurts like hell. Okay, maybe it was just my face that hurt like hell—but it didn’t make the explanation any easier. “An’ then Heero showed up, asked if I hit her, and belted me.” I frowned, and then winced as I realized any facial expression was going to cause pain for awhile. Shit, even wincing hurt. “I’m so fucked,” I mumbled, closing my eyes. “Stay awake,” Quatre ordered sharply. “And Trowa—could you speed it up a little? I think maybe he’s got a concussion.” “Just ‘cause I see two of the hot bartender?” I quipped, letting Quatre gently brush the bangs off my forehead and look critically into my eyes. “No—because your pupils are different sizes,” he said with a scowl. “Oh.” I didn’t argue any more, because the little shit was right. If my pupils were off, it meant I definitely had a concussion. Fuck, but Heero packed a wallop! “Maybe ’s not so bad if we visit the hospital,” I conceded.
“You should see the other guy, doc,” I joked weakly, wincing at the throbbing pain in my face. He chuckled grimly, and gave me a shot of what I guessed was a pain killer. “Care to fill me in on who did that to you and why?” “I’m a little unclear on it myself,” I admitted. I knew that somehow Relena must have convinced Heero that I was the villain. Whether she used the bruised cheek to garner sympathy, or outright accused me of doing it deliberately, she’d succeeded in setting off his temper like I’d never seen it. Quatre was muttering to himself again, and slipped out from under my arm to walk over to Trowa. “…calling Judge Rashid to get a restraining order…” “Quat, you don’t have to—.” “Damn it, Duo!” He turned around with a scowl that was very uncharacteristic on that pretty face of his. “He nearly killed you! He could have. I don’t care what Relena told him…there’s no excuse!” I nodded, groaning at the ache in my head. “I know. But there’s got to be some explanation…” “Fine. He can tell it to the judge!” Quatre stalked out of the room, leaving me with Trowa and the doctor. “Tro’?” “Just let him,” he advised, stepping over to take Quatre’s place steadying me. “He’ll feel less helpless if he can at least ensure that you’re protected from now on.” “Yeah, I know,” I sighed, leaning wearily into the comforting warmth the bartender provided. “He’s right, anyway. You could as easily have ended up with a more severe head trauma. You’re lucky.” “I fuckin’ feel lucky,” I muttered, blinking to keep tears from forming. I mean, shit…when I left Relena’s estate, I was planning on telling Heero what she’d done and that I didn’t care whether I stole him from her any more. I just wanted him. Relena had finally handed me a perfect excuse to do what my heart had been begging to do all along. How that got turned around to the point where Heero hated me and beat the living shit out of me, I had no idea. I just knew the look I’d seen on his face had hurt worse than his fist did. The doctor looked into my eyes again, for which I was grateful, as it gave me an excuse to wipe at them with the edge of the towel. “I’m going to have you admitted,” the physician told me. “I want a CAT scan and MRI done to rule out any clots or swelling of the brain.” “Shit, doc, I had worse street fights as a kid,” I assured him. “Really. Aside from a killer headache and some sore ribs, I’m okay.” “Yes, and Mister Winner promised a malpractice suit the size of Texas if I miss anything,” the doctor told me dryly. “I’d rather be safe than sorry.” I managed a wan smile. “Okay, doc. You’re in charge.”
“Probably curl up and die,” he said casually, giving me a little smile now that he was sure I was going to be okay. “Just so you know—I spoke directly to Judge Rashid, and he’s got a court officer on the way over here to deliver us a copy of the restraining order. There’s a cruiser headed out to the Peacecraft estate to serve Yuy.” “Fuck.” “I know you don’t like the idea—.” “I just think there’s gotta be an explanation—.” “And I’ll be happy to hear it—some other time,” Quatre assured me. “Meanwhile, I want you protected. Obviously Yuy’s got a temper; and until the misunderstanding is cleared up, he can’t be trusted.” He sat back in the chair, looking around at the sterile room. “You want a magazine to read or something? I’m probably gonna have to leave soon. Visiting hours have been over for awhile.” “I’m good, Quat, really.” “Trowa headed back to The Circus while you were upstairs having tests done. I thought I’d go hang out for a bit.” “I’ll be fine. Stop worrying,” I urged. “As if—,” he chided with a smirk. I managed to grin in return, even though it hurt like hell. “I can guarantee you the doctors here will make sure I don’t so much as take a leak without their help…since you threatened all sorts of dire consequences if the care was substandard in any way.” He chuckled at that and I felt a whole lot better. “I guess I did come on a bit strong,” he admitted. “But you know how much you mean to me, Duo. If anything happened to you, who’d be best man at my wedding?” “That reminds me,” I said with a grimace. “Relena fired my ass; so I’m guessing we won’t collect the final payment on the wedding package you sent over.” “Don’t worry about her,” he said with a shrug. “As panicked as she was when she called me, I think her attitude might have changed. After all, she knows she was completely in the wrong.” “How could she fuckin’ throw away a guy like Heero?” Yeah. That was the wrong thing to say. Quatre’s face darkened like a thundercloud. “Maybe she didn’t like his temper,” he said flatly. I swallowed and nodded, trying not to remember the way Heero felt pressed up against me in bed, or the softness of his touch. Quatre could tell what I was thinking just by the pained expression on my face. “Don’t you dare forgive him without even hearing why he did this!” he snapped, staring me down. “I won’t,” I promised weakly. “But I want to hear the explanation, Quat.” “And you will. But not until you’ve healed up and I can trust you to be tough about this. Since when have you ever let anyone get away with shit like Yuy did?” “Never,” I admitted. That was true enough. Even Relena’s big, brawny boyfriend had taken his licks when he’d tried to beat up on me. I was no pushover. I’d just never expected any sort of physical violence from Heero—of all people. I knew how gentle he could be; I’d never even guessed that he could be equally brutal. “Did Relena say what she told him that got him so mad?” “No. She wasn’t that coherent, Duo. She babbled that Heero was on his way to your apartment and was furious at you. I didn’t get much more than that.” “Could you maybe—call her?” I asked carefully. He gave a frustrated sigh. “I’m not sure I can believe much of what she says, Duo. But if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll call in the morning and ask her what happened at her end.” “Thanks, Quat.” I wanted to ask him to call Heero, too, but I knew he wouldn’t. There was no explanation Heero could offer that would appease my overprotective friend. And honestly, as the pain eased up, I was starting to get a little pissed off myself. I couldn’t think of a reason I’d ever raise a hand against Heero the way he’d done to me. I mean, sure, I’d taken a swing at him on the terrace at the fucked-up engagement party. But that was his fault for grabbing my arm…and the punch had been half-hearted at best. It hadn’t even connected. When he took his swing at me, he’d been dead serious. He hadn’t let me finish explaining that hitting Relena had been an accident—that it happened while I was fighting with her fucking boyfriend. And depending on how much Relena had revealed to him about what went on, I wasn’t sure he’d believe me anyway. I was pretty sure she hadn’t told Heero about her little tryst with Geoffrey. She wasn’t that dumb. But what had she told him? For all I knew, she’d accused me of deliberately hitting her. And Heero believed shit like that? That stung. The bastard somehow believed I hit Relena on purpose. No matter how you spun it, that boiled down to him having a serious lack of faith in me. The kind of lack of faith that spells doom to any relationship. And what had he said about cheating? Something about me cheating on him too. That made no sense at all. Why would he think I cheated on him? Did he think I’d slept with Milliardo? And even if I had, it really was no business of Heero’s. As long as he was with Relena, he had no right to be possessive of me. So what was he talking about, anyway? My head was beginning to ache again from running in circles, when I felt Quatre’s warm hand on my shoulder. “Please try to get some rest, Duo. I’ll be here first thing in the morning; and as soon as the doctor clears you, I’ll take you back to my place for a few days.” “Quat, I’ve got work to do…” “Not for the next couple of weeks,” he said flatly. “I can take over Catherine’s wedding arrangements, and if any new clients come in, I’m sure I can put them off a week or two.” I sighed in frustration, leaning back against the pillows and closing my eyes. “Haven’t you carried me often enough?” I asked flatly. “I only saved your life one time, Quatre. You’ve saved mine a dozen.” He chuckled, and I felt his hand smooth my bangs. “And if the situation were reversed, how many times would you be willing to save me, hm?” “As many as it took,” I admitted, smiling in spite of myself. There was a soft tap on the door, and a man in a suit walked in, accompanied by a police officer. “Mister Winner?” Quatre nodded, and the man handed him an envelope. “Judge Rashid sent me over to deliver this, and I brought along Officer Adams to take down a statement.” I nearly groaned aloud. “Quat, you didn’t say anything about having Heero arrested!” “It goes hand in hand with a restraining order,” he replied unsympathetically. “But it was a misunderstanding,” I protested, pushing myself up on my elbows. “You don’t know that yet.” “Yes, I do,” I argued. God, why did I still have the overwhelming urge to find a reason for what Heero did? Granted, I also had an overwhelming urge to do the same right back to him—but I really did need to heal up first. Quatre merely glared at me and took the officer aside. “I’ll give you the pertinent information,” he said smoothly. “Mister Maxwell still isn’t feeling well. They’re keeping him overnight for observation.” “Not my idea!” I called out grumpily, as the court officer, the policeman, and my boss put their heads together, leaving me completely out of the picture. I guess Quat gave them my information, as well as an account of what happened—at least the officer scribbled away in his notebook for several minutes. Then he finally walked over to me, dispassionately eyeing my bruised face. “Do you wish to press charges, Mister Maxwell?” “No, I do not!” I said firmly. “I wish to get out of this hospital bed and go beat an explanation out of the idiot who put me here.” He actually cracked a smile at that. “Please don’t. Then I’d have to do this all over again, but with you on the wrong side of the complaint.” “Wouldn’t be the first time,” I muttered with a sheepish grin, recalling a rather embarrassing arrest during one of my drinking binges after Alex died. Maybe that was why I had the irrepressible urge to give Heero the benefit of the doubt. Having been a slave to my temper a time or two, I could understand the tendency to act first and think later. Not that I condoned it. I mean, a week earlier he’d left a pleading message on my machine, swearing he loved me. If that were true, how could he believe the worst of me without even giving me a chance to explain? That was inexcusable. And, by God, I’d make sure he knew it! Quatre stepped in just as the officer opened his mouth, probably to ask me what I meant by my last statement. “Duo’s had a rough evening, officer. Do you have all you need?” “Sure,” replied the uniformed man, giving me a suspicious look, but closing up his notebook. “I’ll tell my Captain you don’t want to press charges. If they’ve picked Yuy up, they’ll cut him loose.” I put a hand across my face, stifling a groan. If our relationship had been strained before—this was gonna totally kill it. I wished like hell I’d never gone near Relena’s estate that afternoon. I’d never have ended up in a position where I could be blamed for injuring her. Even if seeing her with Geoffrey had given me a clear conscience about Heero and me, I was afraid the cost had been too high. “They’re gone,” Quatre said a moment later, settling on the edge of my bed. I looked past him to see the door swinging shut behind the two visitors. “Damn it, Quatre. Did you have to have them arrest Heero?” “As I said, an arrest generally precedes a restraining order.” “And how am I gonna get an explanation from Heero if I can’t even talk to him?” I asked. “You can call him,” Quatre told me. “He just can’t initiate contact with you.” Initiate contact? Well that brought back memories…his hand closing over mine on the car keys that day at Hilde’s…the way he caught me when I almost fell off the sailboat…and, of course, that kiss on the beach that started everything. I pulled my knees up and rested my forehead on them. Immediately an arm slipped across my shoulders, and Quatre gave me a reassuring hug. “It’s not forever, Duo. Just until things calm down.” “I was gonna tell him I didn’t care about breaking up the wedding,” I mumbled into the blanket my face was resting against. “Not after seeing her with that ox of a boyfriend. But now—he’ll probably never talk to me again.” Quatre snorted skeptically. “More likely he’ll be begging forgiveness the first chance he gets.” He paused for effect. “I’m just not sure you should give it.” “To someone I love?” “I don’t doubt you love him—but can you trust him? Will you ever be able to trust him again?” “It depends…on why he reacted the way he did...and on whether he can change.” I heard a heavy sigh. “Tell you what…I’ll call him tomorrow and see what he has to say. Would that help?” I looked up cautiously. “It might—if you make sure he knows that hitting Relena was an accident.” “I’ll make sure he knows everything,” Quatre conceded. “I won’t promise to sugar-coat it so he can feel like anything less than the heel that he is. He was wrong to react the way he did, even if you had hit Relena on purpose. And I’ll damned well tell him so.” I gave a wry smile. I’d been on the receiving end of plenty of Quatre’s lectures, and I knew Heero would feel like he’d been verbally flayed before it was over. “You’re the best, Quat.” I gave his arm a half-hearted push. “Go on and see Trowa, why don’t you? He’s probably suffering from Quatre-withdrawal by now.” “You sure—?” “I’m in good hands. We already established that.” I gave him an I-told-you-so look as a nurse bustled in and busied herself taking my blood pressure and temperature, and updating my chart. He smiled sheepishly. “Guess that proves your point. Yeah—I’ll tell Trowa you send your best.” “Give ol’ green eyes a big smooch for me, too!” I suggested cheekily. “You got it,” he promised, leaning in to place
a soft kiss on my forehead before heading out the door to go see his
fiancé. tbc... |
