6x2, 1x relena, 5x Sally,3x4
Warning:Angst, violence, graphic... the usual.
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Watching a man's downfall is never an easy thing, especially when it isn't by choice. I saw him at his best, during the war; an eager boy, with a madman's style, and an irrepressible fatalism. If someone had to fight, it would be him. If someone had to sacrifice, he was always the first to sign on. Watching him applauded, by Earth, and space, after the war, and pinned with medals, I had envied him, and had wished for some of his fresh innocence. I hadn't realized my own innocence, then, even after the life I had led, to believe that Duo Maxwell's 'innocence' had been anything other than the lie that it was.
I ran into him, more personally, much later, and even then he had been wearing the playful persona of a man who was in control of his destiny. A man was allowed a few drinks, and to contemplate the stars, but not at the top of the darkened, Preventer car park. I doubt that he had realized that his lounge chair was the hood of my very expensive car, or that, as his commander, I could have had him up on charges. I doubt that he had been thinking about consequences, then, and I had only been thinking about what to say to someone that I had admired.
"Agent Maxwell?"
His head had turned my way, and he had smiled, recognizing me. That smile had been a curved line, set in a pale, stone like face, and his eyes had been black with shadows. "Commander." He had saluted me with his beer bottle, and then had rolled off the hood of my car, to land unsteadily on his feet, on the pavement. His Preventer jacket had swung, along with his braid, and he had seemed all in motion, for a moment, as if he were dancing. He had stilled then, leaning back against the hood of my car.
"This convertible your ride?" Duo had asked. "White, like you, and very expensive. Again, like you. I bet you look good with the top down and all of that hair catching the breeze."
"You're drunk," I had said, unnecessarily, but had felt my face heating up, too.
Duo had thought about that, for a long moment, and then he had replied, "Yes, I am."
"Why?" I had moved closer and the moonlight had given me all of his expression, that 'I have the devil by the tail', confidence.
"People get drunk when they celebrate," he had told me.
I had fiddled with the car keys in one pocket, and my cell phone, in my other, trying to make a proper decision. "What are you celebrating?"
Duo had made a motion with his beer bottle, as if he were giving a toast, and had replied, "I found out that I was gay today."
I had frowned. "A little old for that, aren't we?"
He had shrugged. "I'm a late bloomer, I guess." He had raised the beer again and had said, "To date number 25, and her suggestion that, maybe, I'm just not into women. It all made sense after she said that. I just thought I was impotent."
I had found myself laughing. He had looked hurt, but then he had laughed, as well. "I'll take you home," I had suggested.
"Nope, I'll just catch a cab." He had turned to wipe off my car hood, with a sleeve, and then had given me a nod. "All nice and clean, again, sir. You're good to go."
"No more drinking on Preventer grounds," I had warned him, more seriously, and he had nodded, a simple promise that he had kept, as far as I knew. When I saw him next, though, I discovered that the drinking had been about something deeper, and that Duo Maxwell had far worse troubles than discovering his sexual orientation.
I was coming down a brick paved street, passing a park cloaked in darkness, and scented with jasmine, when I saw him next. A person always thinks of bums on park benches, or huddling over sidewalk grates. Maxwell had more expertise at being homeless. Safely tucked away where a low, brick wall cornered artfully with the wrought iron fence of the park, I wouldn't have noticed him at all, if the pop of a cork hadn't made me look that way. The light of a lamp post picked out a Preventer issue boot just visible in Maxwell's patch of darkness.
We were far enough South where it never snowed, but the cold could get bitter, all the same. Jasmine, and lush park greenery aside, it was still cold enough to see my breath. Loyalty was ingrained in soldiers and I wasn't any different. That Preventer boot had me turning aside and investigating that patch of darkness.
I had to swing a long leg over the wrought iron fence, to enter the park, wary of surprising someone probably trained to kill, but Maxwell's uneven chuckle revealed who he was and I relaxed, though my concern grew.He turned on a cell light and I saw him, bundled up in a coat, and nursing a bottle of very expensive champagne, in his corner hideaway.
"You always see me at my worst," Duo said softly, but then, more loudly, "I thought I'd go camping. Not many places around here for that, except the city park."
"I think there is a law against it," I replied, joining his light banter as I tried to understand the situation.
"Is there?" Duo seemed genuinely puzzled. "A public park with rules about allowing in the public. That's government for you."
He stood, and rearranged his coat to check for leaves and dirt, before he stepped fully into the light. Then I could see his pensive expression, and knew that he was embarrassed.
"What happened?" I asked, making my voice sound official, commander to agent.
Duo shrugged as he looked down at his half empty bottle. He corked it again, as if in an after thought, as he replied, "I live in the Preventer barracks, because I take long missions. They didn't have a free bed this time and it was too late to call any of my buddies."
There was a tightness in the word 'buddies' and I wondered at it. Surely he had friends? I remembered him so bright and outgoing. I couldn't imagine a man like Duo Maxwell being alone.
"Were the hotels full, as well?" I asked.
He blushed, red hot, then, and shrugged. "That's kind of fancy, for people like me."
Like him? A hero? A top Preventer agent? It didn't make sense to me.
"Besides," he continued. "It's kind of nice to relive the past."
His voice said differently and I surmised that, whatever his time on the streets, it hadn't been pleasant.
"I have an apartment nearby," I told him and fished for the keys in my pocket. "You may stay there for a few days, until they have a bed at the barracks."
When I wanted relaxation, I loved to come to that quaint quarter of town, have a quiet dinner, and stay in a one bedroom walk up, in a building reminiscent of an old french villa. Without body guards, Preventer duties, and obligations, I could pretend, at least for one evening, that I wasn't the notorious Milliardo Peacecraft.
"I'll be all right, here," Duo insisted, but I could tell that he was only saving face.
"I insist," I told him and then flicked a look at the champagne. "No drinking, though."
Duo chuckled and moved to toss the bottle into the nearest city garbage can. The door to the can made a flapping noise as he replied, "I fished it out of the garbage behind a really expensive restaurant. It was just to keep warm."
I had seen the label, before it had taken the fall into the can. It was the same as the champagne that I had after my meal that evening. It made me shiver, a little, thinking that he had been finishing that very bottle. The odds were against it, of course, but I couldn't help contemplating it.
Duo blushed again, maybe replaying his own words and realizing how it made him appear to me. "Old habits die hard, I guess," he said lamely.
I held out the keys and he took them, not meeting my eyes. I saw the cold air cloud as he let out a sigh. Duo Maxwell, expert in piloting, munitions, infiltration, undercover, and hand to hand combat, seemed more a lost teenager, at that moment, one who desperately needed a parent to tell him what to do next. I didn't like that image. He was a man, by age and experience. To think otherwise, danced with the notion that he was unbalanced, somehow, and I didn't want to believe that.
I gave him the address of the apartment and he nodded as he contemplated the keys. It seemed a stop gap to a larger problem. I said, "I'll talk to housing and see about getting you a permanent home on Preventer grounds."
He blinked. "A home? What would I need a whole home for? I just need a bed out of the weather."
His expression was of a man who had just been, jokingly, told that he could have a rainbow and fairy sparkles. I wasn't a psychologist, and I wasn't about to ask questions when I might not understand the answers. It seemed to me, though, that we, Preventers and the government, and made a grave error in judgment, when we had assumed that the confident, and capable, Duo Maxwell, hadn't needed help in adjusting after the war. He had just demonstrated to me, glaring deficits in judgment and self esteem.
"We'll talk about it, later," I told him, already contemplating contacting experts on his behalf. "For now, simply get out of the cold and get some rest. I'll see you at headquarters tomorrow."
He grinned at me. "Nope, the next few days are my down time."
"Then enjoy the apartment," I replied, "and I'll call to check on you. The refrigerator is stocked. Take full advantage of it, and that's an order."
"Yes, sir," Duo responded and then, with a deeper blush. "Thanks."
"You're welcome," I replied and found a soft smile on my face. It felt good to help him, to talk to him, and to know that I had made him safe. I wondered at that feeling, a part of my mind calling it foolishness, but I couldn't deny it.
__________________________________________
"Your stove burns everything," Duo complained as he pulled on his coat, and smoothed hands over the wrinkles.
I stared at the remains of some sort of food battle on top of the burner and scowled. I sorted through empty containers, of melted plastic, and food, trying to identify the remains. "These have heat tabs. They don't require cooking," I told him, irritably. "Didn't you read the directions?"
"It said to heat and serve," Duo grumbled as he dug hands into his pockets. His hair was a wild mess, braid half done, and his shoes were still dirty from the park. I saw the tracks on my cream colored carpet and winced. "Look, " he complained, "I always eat out, at the commissary, or crack open ration packs. They don't bother heating that shit."
I picked up a small garbage pail and began gingerly tossing food and containers into it. "All right, let's agree that you can't cook Why didn't you clean up this mess?"
Duo looked embarrassed and ducked his head so that his bangs covered his eyes. "I guess that I was having too much fun with that vid system of yours. Time just went by."
Duo moved forward as if to help, but I curtly waved him off as I dropped the pail, back to the floor, in disgust, and snapped, "Leave it! I'll call a service. This is going to require professionals."
I looked at him, finally noticing his coat. He expected to be evicted and I had to wonder at that. If he knew that making a mess had been wrong, then why had he made one? It seemed childish. It came to me all at once. If you took a wild bear out of the woods, and put it into a well appointed apartment, a person could only expect a bear to act like a bear, in those circumstances. It was possible, that Duo Maxwell, didn't have the first notion of how to live in an actual home.
I tried to imagine never having more than a bed, and never being responsible for keeping even a room clean and orderly. I felt a pang of sympathy and my anger cooled.
"Take off your coat," I told him and he seemed surprised. He hesitated, as if expecting a joke, and then took off his coat. He began to toss it onto the couch back, but I snapped, "No, there is a closet, over there, where you will hang it up on a hanger. Once you've done that, you will take off your boots in the foyer."
"What's a foyer?" Duo asked as he slid off his coat.
"The tiled space between the front door and the carpet," I replied and motioned towards it.
"Oh," he said and chuckled as he went to do as I ordered.
When Duo was standing before me again, in old socks that were holed in the toes, I had to ask a new question. "What do you have in the way of clothing?"
"A couple of shirts, Preventer uniform, Preventer boots, socks," he replied and then didn't go on. Underwear was noticeably absent and I tried not to look down at that particular area on his person.
"You're paid well," I said, confused. "What have you been doing with your credits if you haven't been renting a home, or even buying clothing?"
"Expenses," Duo grimaced and shrugged. "Missions require a lot of extras, sometimes."
"Like?" I prompted.
Duo looked nervous. "Preventers doesn't always give you what you need. Sometimes, I need more boom in my bombs, or more fire power, all around. Stuff happens, too, that needs credits."
"You've never submitted an expense report?" I wondered.
Duo blinked at me, confused. "A what?"
I asked, silently, for patience. "An expense report. It's a form where you request that Preventers pays you back for all of those mission 'extras'."
Duo shrugged and looked down at his toes, poking through his socks. "Well... I don't think they'd approve of some of the things that I've had to buy. I mean, how do you tell someone, that you had to pay a whore, to proposition your target, so that you could get him into a back alley, to take him into custody, unseen? There's probably not a space for that on any form."
I bit my lip, stifling a laugh, but the soldier in me was irritated and thinking about disciplinary action. Everyone knew that the Gundam pilots were loose cannons in the field, but there was a general policy of ignoring those moments when they, not only dropped the book, but buried it ten feet under.
"You are certainly dedicated," I managed, but then grew more serious. "Still, you need to learn to take better care of yourself."
"I'm fine," he replied with a grin as he looked up at me, all confidence again. Which only meant that he took pride in still being alive, when a lot of other people weren't.
I could see his problem, then, and it was written all over his cock sure stance and his sparkling eyes. He was still just surviving, when every one else had decided to live their lives. Wu Fei had gone to teach at a university, and had married. Quatre Winner had dedicated his life to his projects and Trowa Barton. Heero Yuy had fallen full force into Preventers. He had friends, a nice apartment, and at least one prospective significant other in ballistics. Duo had remained, Duo, and had most likely been separated from his fellow pilots, by his very act of not changing with the times. I could imagine them feeling sorry for their one time companion, but going on with their lives and falling out of touch with him. Duo was alone, I supposed, and no one had noticed that he was so very inept at being an adult living in peaceful times.
"I've changed my mind," I said and saw him stiffen. He was imagining eviction again, as I reached for a scrub brush and began running water into the sink. I told him, "You're going to clean up this mess."
Duo blushed and his mouth hung open, slightly, but then he made a face and stepped forward to take the rag. "What do I do?"
He was honest and I sighed as I took cleanser from under the counter. "Soak the mess first, to soften it up, " I instructed, trying for patience, "Then add the cleanser. Scrub, but not hard enough to damage anything. Also, try not to get water on the floor."
"Roger that, sir," he grunted, not liking the task, but seeing the fairness of it.
I began tossing containers into the garbage pail, again, wondering how to tackle the carpet next, but then, his voice made me pause and stare at him, when he asked cautiously, "So... What do you want, for all of this?"
"Obviously not a maid," I replied, trying for a joke. It fell flat.
Duo was still serious as he persisted. "I know that you want something, so, just tell me, so we'll be even."
"Even?" I echoed as I turned to work melted plastic off of the burner.
"You do for me, I do for you, right?"
'Do', was a poor choice of words, and I think he realized it as he blushed hotly and ducked his head again.
"I'm your commander," I informed him with all correct decorum, keeping my mind firmly out of the gutter. "It's my duty to see my men taken care of."
Which sounded just as leading as 'do', and had me blushing as well. "You don't owe me anything in return, " I added quickly.
"Uhm... okay," Duo tried and then worried his lip.
"Yes?" I prompted.
"I will pay you, you know, for the food, and all," he told me.
A man had pride. "All right," I replied, going back to safe ground and wondering how we had wondered into the quagmire of innuendo to begin with. Were we really thinking that way about each other? I was his commander. It was against all the rule books. It was improper behavior unbecoming of a commander.
"I'll ask about homes on grounds, today," I promised.
"I still think that a bed is fine by me," Duo replied as he scrubbed. "But, yeah. I don't want to freeload."
Holes in his dirty socks. A few shirts that had seen better days. Preventer clothes. A lack of understanding about simple hygiene and housekeeping. I had no more intention of letting him go in that condition, than I would have dreamed of allowing a baby to toddle into traffic. He needed someone... a teacher. It amazed me, that I was considering the job myself.
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"What do you think?" I asked and watched his face carefully.
He turned around and then turned again, eyes wide, as he took in the very small, one room apartment. It came furnished, barely, and the bed was a Preventer issue, hard as nails, single bed. I wondered when they would ever stop using rough, dark green blankets. The kitchenette had a half fridge and a microwave, nothing to tax his meager skills.
Duo jammed hands into his pockets and ducked his head for a moment, before saying uncertainly, "I can afford this?"
"Yes," I replied as I settled his one bag onto a plain chair. "You're able to rent , here, at a discount, because of your agent status."
"It's a lot of space," he said and then looked uncomfortable. "I'm not sure what I'll do with it all."
"Anything that you want to," I assured him.
He coughed, covering his mouth, and then rubbed at his chest. He had done that, many times, on the ride there, and I had begun to worry about his health.
"The kitchen is fully outfitted," I said. "There are sheets, towels, and toiletries as well." I didn't mention that I had bought them. It seemed only right that he shouldn't have to worry about those things just yet, when simply having a home was so hard for him to wrap his head around.
"So, " Duo said at last, rubbing at his chest again, "You did all of this, because you're a good commander?"
Suspicion, hardly veiled, was plain to see.
"Maybe I think you're owed this... and more... after you gave so much during the war?" I tried, but he gave me a cock eyed look that told me that he wasn't buying that. If he was owed anything, he was owed some honestly. It was hard to admit to what I wasn't certain of myself, though. "I care about you. Is that explanation enough? I don't think that I can give you more than that right now."
He blinked at me, worried his lip as he considered my words, and then turned away, before I could see a blush. "Okay... That's good... just so long as you understand that I don't pay for things the old fashioned way."
Blunt at last, and making his line in the sand, he waited for my reply with stiff shoulders.
I didn't play games. A man didn't begin anything important with a lie. "That's not what I intended."
Duo walked over to the kitchenette and looked into the fridge. He smiled as he saw the juices, and a few precooked meals from a local restaurant. "People of your caliber, tend to have low opinions of people on my rung of the ladder," he said as he snagged a juice and popped the top. "Sometimes, they think we don't count, and that we're just around to use up and then throw away."
My nostrils flared. "I'm not one of those people," I replied and he looked under his arm at me appraisingly. "I may have the title of Prince, but I never had the privilege. I've been in the military my entire life. What position I have, I have earned by the trust of the men, and women, around me. You've earned my regard, by your deeds, and your upbringing was never a consideration, Duo Maxwell."
He straightened and took a sip of his juice as if he needed that wetness to reply. "Okay," he said in answer to my long speech.
I laughed and he grinned. Apologies didn't need to be any more complicated than that.
Duo motioned to the room, "Thank you, for helping me out. I just hope that I get to enjoy it. Missions keep me away from home, most of the time."
"About that," I said as I moved to join him in the kitchenette, "You've been on duty in double rotations. That has to cease. You will follow normal scheduling procedures."
Duo snorted and leaned back against the counter. "Tell that to Une. The fine print, says, 'normal rotation will be followed, with no exception, unless an emergency requires an agent's singular skills. Unfortunately, I have a hell of a lot of 'singular skills'. I've learned to rest on the go, though, so it's no biggie, anymore."
He shrugged, but I could see the weariness of acceptance in that gesture. He didn't like it, but he would do what was necessary. He coughed again and moved away from me, rubbing his chest with his free hand, to look at the bed. It was tucked behind a divider, with a simple plastic chest for clothing.
"At least the bed won't feel strange," Duo snickered. "This looks like the one from the barracks."
"You can buy your own, later, if you like, " I assured him, and then asked, "About that cough, Duo, it doesn't sound good."
He grimaced. "I was hoping that it would go away. I'm usually pretty good at not getting sick. My chest hurts, though."
"Visit the clinic," I ordered, slipping easily into my commander role. I wanted my words to be obeyed. "You've been outside, in the cold, and worked ragged. That leaves you open to sickness."
"Yes, Doc Peacecraft," Duo replied, a little irritated. "Do you think that I'll need surgery?"
"Duo," I began but he turned and gave me a steady look.
"I can take care of a cold," he assured me firmly, "and I can take care of myself, too."
Pride was rearing it's head again. A man could only take so much care, especially from another man, before it rankled. I backed off and sighed, considering that I might be over reacting to my need to have my men in tip top shape. Another, deeper voice, told me that it was something more meaningful, but I shrugged it off.
"Does the refrigerator stay on all the time, or do I turn it off when I'm not using it?" Duo asked, suddenly interested in his new home again.
I covered a smile with my hand and replied, "On, all the time. You might want to dispose of perishables, if you're going on long missions. Even refrigerated, things spoil, eventually."
"That's good to know," Duo said. "Heero had one of these, but he just grunted when I asked him to show me how to use it. I don't think that he took me seriously."
"It's just hard to imagine that you've never had experience with these sorts of things," I tried to explain.
Duo shrugged, as if he were unloading a great deal of dark memory from his shoulders. "Well, I've used them, a few times, but I've never had them myself. I've never had to take care of them. I just grab a drink, nuke a meal, and go about my business. "
"If you have any trouble, call me," I told him, and grabbed my coat.
"You're leaving?" He seemed nervous, now, and uncertain.
"You'll get used to it," I assured him with a smile, "and if you need company, you can call me for that, too."
"Yeah?" He looked pleased, and cocky, damn him. He grinned as he showed me to the door and opened it for me. He hung on the jam as I went through and then said, "I was going to ask you to come back, anyhow. "
"Then we're on the same page?" I asked, hopefully.
"Definitely," he replied and his voice fairly purred with warmth. I had to remember that there were some things that he wasn't ignorant of, and that he was older than he looked.
_____________________________________
The practice course had been rigorous, the recruits very green. It had taken Duo and I, the better part of the morning and the afternoon, to get them through it. After one concussion, one sprained wrist, and a great many scrapes and bruises, our charges collapsed on the other side of the finish line.
"Three laps around the field and then hit the showers," I ordered, not granting any mercy. Duo snickered, low, so that they couldn't hear, appreciating my cruelty. but he understood, as well as I did, that a mission wouldn't grant them any mercy either.
Their extra laps also gave us the luxury of using the showers first, and Duo and I were quick to make our way there and take advantage of that. He was stripping even before he hit the door. I was slower, working my sweat filled shirt over my head and tossing it onto a bench, near my locker. His shorts and underwear went flying over to his locker, hitting it squarely and then sliding in a heap to the floor as Duo strode, naked, into the shower and whipped on the hot water.
Long and lean, his ass was two rounded globes above slim legs. He leaned out, to spare his hair from getting wet, and let the water spray over him. His groan of delight made me instantly hard.
In a locker room, or even a mission situation, bodies are just bodies. Men and women are comrades, not objects of lust. I had lost that detachment though, all in an instant, and I couldn't get it back. Undressing now, would show Duo that, rather crudely, but I couldn't not take the shower, either. Trying to pretend that my condition, was just adrenaline, wasn't going to fool him, and there was nothing that I could do, but try to hit myself with cold water before he noticed.
It shouldn't have mattered. I did want Duo. I didn't have any reason not to show him that. Being his commander, and on duty, just then, made any display unprofessional, though, and I couldn't find it in myself to ignore that. Off duty, was one thing, but here, where men and women depended on us both, we couldn't afford to forget our positions.
I finished undressing and chose a shower head just behind Duo. Turning away from the sight of him soaping erect nipples, I turned on the cold water, and thought hard about an upcoming mission weapon's list.
"Damn!" Duo grunted and I looked over and saw him rubbing a shoulder. "I think Marson pulled a muscle when I saved him from falling into the mud obstacle."
I prayed that Duo wouldn't ask me to rub it out for him as I replied, "You should go to medical. You can check on your cough and your shoulder at the same time."
Duo shrugged and rubbed at his shoulder, as he replied, "I took medicine for the cough, it's fine, and the shoulder will work itself out."
He hadn't coughed more than a few times all day, and he had worked well on the course, so I discarded my worry about that. To keep the conversation going, and my mind away from his soapy body, I stared at the tile, and asked, "Are you getting comfortable with your apartment? You didn't call."
Duo was very quiet and I resisted the urge to look at him. "No time to call. Une brought me back early, and there was that mission in San Paolo. When I got back, though... well, I'm not used to... neighbors."
"What happened?" I asked in concern.
"They visited," he replied, "and introduced themselves. They seemed to be casing my joint, though, so I didn't let them stay long."
"That's called being curious," I chuckled. "They want to know what kind of person is living next to them."
"I had my weapons kit out," Duo said thoughtfully, "and my uniform was on the back of a chair. They must know I'm Preventers."
"Why do you sound nervous about that?" I wanted to know.
"Strangers shouldn't know too much about you. It gives them an advantage," Duo replied as he stepped out of the water and made his way to a towel rack.
Duo began drying off and I saw his privates swinging with his motions, perfectly relaxed, and oblivious to any display that I was putting on. I brought my attention firmly back to the tile, somewhat disappointed, as I said, "You sound like Heero."
"I learned a thing or two from him," Duo grunted.
"Well, you don't have to be neighborly, if you don't want to, but good neighbors can be helpful," I pointed out.
"How?" He began dressing in his uniform as I finished and began drying off as well. His eyes traveled down, as if against his will, and widened a little when they reached below my navel. That made me feel better as he blushed a little and turned away, as if to adjust something in his locker.
"They can watch your apartment while you're gone, or help you if you're ever in trouble," I told him.
"I can depend on them?" he wondered.
"Not all the time, but, if you become friends, you're more likely to have them do things like that," I explained.
The other agents came into the locker room, then, swearing, panting with exhaustion, and looking ready to expire, and the rest of our conversation was lost to the noise. For the rest of that day, though, I remembered Duo's look, and promised that I wouldn't let him wait much longer to call me.
_________________________________
"Where the hell is he?" I demanded of one agent as we all sat, waiting for the last man to appear to begin our briefing.
"Maxwell," the man replied, simply, as if that was explanation enough.
I didn't think that it was. Maxwell was known for outrageous antics, and insubordination, but when missions were involved, he was a professional to the core. I couldn't wait for him any longer, though, and began the meeting simmering with anger, and making a mental promise that Maxwell would go on report, no matter how I felt about him.
That was the trick, I knew, to separate the man from the agent, to never let personal life mingle with professional. If I couldn't manage it here, then whatever we felt for each other, was doomed from the start. We were both career men and I didn't think that we would ever chose a relationship over that career. I certainly wasn't ready too.
Halfway through the meeting, my cell alerted me to a call. I took it irritably. "Peacecraft," I growled, as everyone waited for me to continue.
"Hey, commander," Duo's voice sounded reedy, as if he could barely force the words out. He coughed hard and then another voice took over the conversation.
"Po, here, Commander Peacecraft," my head of medical said. "Agent Maxwell is suffering from an upper respiratory infection. It isn't serious, and won't be, as long as he takes his medication and rests." The words sounded threatening and seemed aimed at Duo."I recommend a week of downtime."
"F'n nuts!" Duo choked out angrily.
"I have eight years medical, and a diploma, that says I'm not," Po growled back. "If you want to ignore me, then I'll write out your toe tag, right now, and reserve a space on a morgue slab!"
"That doesn't sound 'not serious'" My stomach clenched in worry. "I knew he was ill. He seemed to be recovering on his own, though."
"No doubt, that he was," Po agreed, "Until he took a case, last night, in the rain, in thirty degree weather. His immune system went down for the count."
I had sent him on that case, only quickly checking the duty roster and not considering anything but getting the case wrapped up by a top agent in the field.
"Send him home, that's an order," I told her, managing to keep emotion out of my voice as I shut off my cell and looked at the agents at the table, staring at me in curiosity. I shuffled papers and said, "Maxwell won't be joining us on this mission."
They looked disturbed by that and I couldn't blame them. In a dangerous situation, Duo was the man any agent would want by his side.
"Idiot," Heero grumbled under his breath as he scowled at his mission parameters.
Was he worried? He didn't seem to be, maybe trusting in Duo's strength, or not hearing enough of the conversation to understand Duo's condition. I still felt a flare of anger at that casual dismissal, and it was difficult to remain professional and continue the meeting, with guilt, and anger, pressing down on me.
A small part of me, knew that Heero was right. Duo should have known, should have refused the assignment, and should have done better. I should have been as relaxed as Yuy, knowing that a small infection, wasn't something to worry about, not when Sally Po was the doctor, and not when a Gundam pilot was the patient. I found that calm detachment impossible, though.
When the meeting adjourned, I knew that I couldn't race off to see Duo. I had duties. People depended on me. It didn't make it any easier, knowing that. Forcing myself to get through the day, and to do things correctly, had never seemed so onerous. When the last duty had been performed, I purposefully kept myself under control, wrapping up the day properly, and then signing out with a thankful finality. Now I could be human and tend to my personal life.
He opened the door of his apartment looking pale, a kleenex held to a running nose, and his eyes squinted as if in pain. He grunted when he saw me, looking pleased, despite everything, and opened the door wider in silent invitation.
I stopped two steps into the apartment, mouth opening a little, at the chaos."I did tell you what a garbage can was, before I left you last, didn't I?" I wondered in shock.
Duo was too sick for embarrassment, if he felt any at all. He collapsed onto the couch where medicine, hot coffee, and a handheld game was already installed. The chaos seemed to intensify around that spot.
"No time for cleaning," Duo managed and then coughed and looked miserable.
"You make time." I sighed as I picked up a waste can and began gingerly dropping trash into it, not sure what I might find.
"Don't have to do that," Duo grumbled at me and then rubbed at his throat as if speaking hurt him.
"I do," I replied tightly, "but I won't do it again, I'll just have your apartment condemned."
Duo gave a hoarse chuckle, but I wasn't trying to be amusing. The apartment looked as if a five year old had tried, and failed, to keep house there.
"Don't," he tried and I gave him a raised eyebrow. He settled, then, knowing that further argument was useless as I began cleaning.
"You took your medicine?" I asked as I began doing the mound of dishes.
"Yes, mom," he sighed, and then I heard his game start up.
"You shouldn't drink coffee," I tried again, but he grunted in response. I did sound like a henpecking mother, but the man was frustrating in his need to actually have a mother, or a good maid, to take care of him. I considered the maid, thinking about cost, to both pride and credit balance, and then discarded the idea. How was Duo ever going to learn day to day living if someone was, yet again, picking up for him?
I paused at the realization that I was doing that very thing. I stared down at sudsy dishes, feeling a little unmanned, and confused. What was it about Maxwell that made me want to go to that level of concern? It didn't seem healthy, for either of us, to treat him as a child when it was the man that I desired. I was Milliardo Peacecraft, the Lightning Count, a commander in Preventers, a war veteran, and someone to be reckoned with, yet her I was, doing dishes, like a housewife, and worrying about a young man that had survived more than I could imagine in his short life time.He would go on surviving, if I never cared to help him again, like a rat in a dumpster, cocky and self sufficient even in the midst of chaos.
"I'm sorry," I told him.
I put down the dish and turned to him. He was blinking at me and then he understood and smiled.
"Dumb ass," he said with a snicker.
I laughed, agreeing, and went to sit down beside him, wiping my hands on a wrinkled hand towel. "I just worry... about you... because I care," I explained.
Duo nodded, looking relieved. "That's good," he replied."Don't need to wipe m' ass, though." He coughed hard, pressing a hand to his aching chest. "Maxwell's mess, Maxwell's problem," he finished.
"Okay... just, don't let it get anymore out of hand, for my sake," I tried. "I'd rather not contend with a leftover fast food burger and two old buckets of chinese, for a seat next to you."
Duo did blush then, leaned forward, and removed the items to the coffee table. I moved closer, then, and felt tension drain from us both. He didn't look seriously ill, just as Po had assured me, but he was definitely not well.
"The next time, that I put you on a case," I told him, "and you aren't a hundred percent, I'll put you on report. Understand?"
"Yes, sir," he replied guiltily.
I spent a comfortable few hours with him, and it was hard to leave after, but he had made it clear, and I understood, that he was his own man. He didn't need a mother, he needed a friend. Later, hopefully, I would be much more than that.
__________________________________________
"You can drop it!"
Duo's voice was loud in the hanger and that was saying something. Transports, of all kinds were being serviced or moved about. Men and equipment were making their own general din. Duo's snarl carried over it easily, and I left off zipping up my flight suit to look around, the man holding my helmet for me, forgotten.
Duo was confronting Heero Yuy and, even from my distance, I could see the dark scowl on the young man's face. He said something in return, Duo flipped him a bird, and then yanked up the zipper on his own flight suit as he stalked to his fighter. I saw Yuy search me out, with his eyes, run a frustrated hand through his disordered hair, and walk away to do his own business there.
As much as I wanted to forget our past rivalry, there was still a powerful urge to best that man, to strive to come out on top, in whatever we did. I doubt that he felt any different. It was a running joke in Preventers, to not put two Pit Bulls, meaning us, together in one arena, or only one would come out alive. Our rivalry wasn't anything that dangerous, but it was always there, always ready to rise up when we faced the same mission, the same challenges, or the same man. Did he want Duo for himself? Jealousy wondered. I imagined him not approving of a commander wooing a subordinate, but we were all human, after all, and these things did happen unofficially.
I took my helmet and put it on, and heard Duo's voice, through the helmet radio, calling irritably, "Hey, blondie! Long legs? Sweet cheeks? Blue eyes? Pecks like God-"
"Here," I growled, though I was secretly laughing.
"Oh, sorry, commander," Duo apologized, but I could hear the laughter in his voice. "Ready, when you are."
"Taxi out," I ordered curtly. No one was going to accuse me of forgetting protocol, for a lover, but horseplay was the norm, when men needed to loosen up nerves before a mission.
"Roger," Duo responded, just as professionally, and I waited my turn to taxi out.
I passed the time checking instruments and taping my flight plan to part of the lower canopy. I could never trust the on board computer entirely. I had flown too many missions, where it had failed, and failed badly. I read off my checklist to Duo, and listened to his bored, 'of course I have it right', responses, but it was necessary. We were going to be skimming the upper atmosphere and seals, and oxygen equipment, needed to be in working order. A slip up could cost a man his life, and I was determined that it wouldn't be Duo's.
We checked weapon controls as he took up position on the runway. The powering up and powering down always made the ground crew nervous, but they were well clear of any accident zones. We finished as I took my place in launch position.
"Launch, Zero Two," I ordered, using our code names.
"Roger, Zero One," he replied and his ship did the vertical launch like a deadly insect lifting off, thrusters pushing against gravity. When he was up and away, I launched my ship.
Arrowing out, into the morning sun, together, felt exhilarating. We were hawks, in search of prey, mates, if I wanted to think deeper about it. I loved the little fighters. They were quick, sleek, and deadly. When I was in the pilots seat, I felt one with the wind and sky. I was still grounded, though, still in command. I couldn't let it go to my head. I was very aware of Duo's position, relative to my own, his periodic check ins, and the sound of his voice. The medic had cleared him for duty, but I knew the man well enough to know how he could fool even me, when he chose. If one cough passed his lips, I would be, not only scratching the mission, but putting him on report as well.
The trip was long, even in our swift fighters, and it was a temptation to talk to Duo, to ask him about that exchange with Yuy, but I only asked for status. That left my fertile imagination free to fill in the conversation, myself. When Duo's voice came, his words were a relief. I don't think he knew that his radio was still open.
"Yuy, King of Jackass. Daniels is NOT better at upper atmosphere combat. He chokes when ever he hits re-entry burn.... or maybe he just doesn't want to ruin his fighter's paint job?" Duo's voice was angry and disgusted.
"Watch your chatter, Zero Two!" I ordered sharply.
"Sorry, Roger that," Duo replied in obvious surprise and the radio clicked.
It explained the look Yuy had given me, a disapproval of my choice, clearly. Going over each man's abilities, in my mind, I almost had to agree with him, but, Duo was correct, in a dog fight, Daniel's choked when ever his ship hit re-entry burn. That wouldn't do on a mission like ours.
I checked our time and adjusted our speed. We were on a rendezvous with our targets. We couldn't be late to intercept them.