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The Lost Soldiers series: 
By Kracken (signs@screaminet.com)

Disclaimer: I don't own them and I don't make any money off of this.

Warnings: Male/Male sex and relationships. language. Violence. Zechs being
very self destructive. Heero being very mean.

This is a 2x6 series and it's slightly OOC. It takes place after the war and
this Duo is not the same Duo as in the Shinigami's Lover series. I'm going to
get off my lazy ass and number them this time. 

Thanks to everyone who bought my book on amazon.com. I'm a poor artist and I
need the shekels. If anyone else is interested, information is in my bio. Luv
ya all!

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#1 - Out of the Blue

Milliardo Peacecraft exited the theater, pulling on gloves against the cold
and shrugging deeper into his chocolate colored coat. He sighed, feeling black
depression weigh heavily on his shoulders. The frivolous court that he had just
dutifully wined, dined, and entertained had only made the depression sink its
claws deeper. He needed a drink, not fancy champagne or expensive wine, but
something baser and more fierce, something strong enough to shove him into
oblivion, an oblivion where the pain couldn't reach.

Almost two years had passed since the war had ended. Nearly two years of
drifting in his sister's shadow, watching her take everything he had always
dreamed of having; Sanq Kingdom, a high position among men, and a chance to
change the world and make a difference. What could he do now, but bow to her
will and become her ambassador of fools? Those fools thought more of their own
enjoyments than his plans or even hers. Peace, prosperity, security, and an
alliance of colony and Earth, as tightly knit as a woven cloth, were the stuff
of his dreams, his plans, yet he couldn't accomplish anything without power.
Relena had all the power and Relena had chosen not to trust him with it.

Who could blame her, Milliardo thought darkly. He had tried to destroy so many
people to achieve his goals. The excuse of being under the influence of a zero
system wasn't even good enough for him, let alone the leader of Earth and
Space. He deserved the life he had been given. In fact, he thought, sinking
even deeper into the blackness. He deserved far worse.

Maybe tonight.

Milliardo needed his limo. He needed to find a place to get his strong drink.
Fingering the beeper in his pocket, he idly scanned the street and the sidewalk
as he began to push the button that would alert his driver. His finger froze.

A figure lounged against the brick wall of a building. He was watching the
important people slowly coming out of the theater, but it wasn't in awe or in
anticipation. It was... in desperation? Milliardo let go of his beeper, not
sure why he did it, or maybe... yes, he did know. The figure against the wall
was provocative, different, fascinating. Milliardo felt the need for a
diversion, a diversion from the dark thoughts that were beginning to turn
violent.

Milliardo slowly approached, giving himself time to study the figure. Long
legs in tight black jeans and an enticing bulge at the crotch. Black ankle
boots with pointed toes and silver heels. A long sleeved, white shirt
unbuttoned at the collar. A long, black coat that swept past his heels and gave
ample pocket room for the hands he had thrust inside of them to keep warm. The
face. It made Milliardo want to laugh and that was saying something in his
present mood. It was the face of an elf, all pointy planes, big cheeks and...
Milliardo took a deep breath in awe. The young man had two of the largest and
most luminous eyes Milliardo had ever seen on a man. They sparkled like
moonlight on purple mist from under a unruly thatch of chestnut hair. That
hair... it was the hair that made Milliardo start at memory.

An interrogation room monitor. Milliardo had leaned on a control console and
idly watched several interrogations at one time on a split screen. Unpleasant
duty. He had hated it, the cold, calculating reduction of a man until he would
say anything, do anything to escape the professionally administered drugs and
pain.

" A little to the left!" A cheery voice said suddenly. Milliardo blinked and
adjusted the screen until it was showing only one room and the prisoner who was
panting in pain, but still attempting a joke. "You almost got that itch, man."

He was bound to a chair and restrained heavily. He was very young. Two men
stood over him using shock rods. The boy jerked and writhed at each touch,
spitting and groaning as his body betrayed him by trying to get away from the
pain. As soon as the shock let up though, he was back to grinning and joking.

"Nice party!" The prisoner gasped out hoarsely. "Make sure you put me on the
call list for the next one."

One of his tormentors lost control. Angrily, he raised a steel toed boot and
slammed it into the boy's ribs. Broken for certain, Milliardo thought as the
boy strangled on a cry and then hung limply in his bonds, unconscious. 

"Stop!" Milliardo commanded through the speaker. The men jerked to attention.
"You are on report, sir," he told the man who had lost his temper. The man
flushed scarlet. "This is an interrogation. We don't want the prisoner to die.
Have him treated and put back in his cell."

They had unbound the boy without question and Milliardo had watched him
dragged from the room. It was then that he had seen that incredible length of
braid trailing on the floor.

He was seeing it now on this slightly older version of the prisoner. The braid
had grown longer, but the young man hadn't. He wasn't tall and he was thinner
and more wiry than Milliardo remembered. He looked desperate and that suited
Milliardo's plans for him perfectly.

"Waiting for someone?" Milliardo asked in his husky voice. The young man
looked him up and down. Milliardo wasn't self conscious. He knew the man was
seeing a tall, well built person with a long fall of snow white hair, an
incredibly handsome face, and ice blue eyes under strong white brows. He was
dressed impeccably and he carried himself with an air only good breeding could
give a person. 

"Not Milliardo Peacecraft," the young man replied with an annoyed drawl to his
voice. Milliardo searched his memory for the accent, Ah, yes, he thought, L2,
den of thieves, prostitutes, and the impoverished. He definitely had the upper
hand.

"I'm at a disadvantage," Milliardo replied with an arched white brow. "You are-
?"

Duo smirked self deprecatingly. "I guess I'm not as famous as the other Gundam
pilots."

"Gundam pilot?" Milliardo came to attention, the soldier in him on alert as he
found himself facing an old enemy.

"Duo Maxwell," Duo replied and then turned his eyes to the theater again. "If
you don't mind. I have business."

"Business?" Milliardo wondered, still stunned by Duo's revelation.

Duo looked uncomfortable. He didn't explain. Milliardo noted his sunken face,
his large cheeks made even more prominent because of it. He was blue with cold.
It was obvious that he had been standing outside for a long while. That look of
desperation surfaced in Duo's eyes again. Milliardo thought that he understood
it.

The people continued to file out of the theater. Duo noted each one, a slight
tick of disappointment evident each time he failed to see who he wished.

"Well," Duo wondered sharply. "Are you going to just stare at me like I'm a
sideshow freak, Milli?"

Milliardo frowned at the shortening of his name. "Who are you looking for?"

Duo's shoulders tightened and then he admitted. "Quatre Winner."

"Another Gundam pilot," Milliardo said.

"Yeah, we use to be friends." Duo shrugged and again Milliardo saw that self
deprecating grin. "I guess I'm hoping for a lot to expect that he'd see me
again, especially here."

"He is a kind man," Milliardo noted.

Duo turned away suddenly and glared at the ground. "Yeah, he is. Too kind."

"He wasn't there at the gathering. He declined at the last minute," Milliardo
lied.

Duo stiffened and then slumped dejectedly against the wall. He sighed and
burrowed his hands deeper into his pockets. "Shinigami's luck, as usual," he
said. "I read in the paper he was attending this get together I was hoping..."
He glared at Milliardo.

"Hoping what?" Milliardo wondered.

"Why am I even talking to you?" Duo demanded hotly. "What do you want, man?"

You, Milliardo though viciously, but said, pleasantly enough, "It's cold.
You're blue with it. Why don't you allow me to buy you dinner?" He motioned
absently to the people leaving the theater. "I've become so tired of insipid
fools. I need to speak with someone who understands me, someone who was in the
war as well."

Milliardo reached into his pocket and pressed the call button. His limo pulled
up to the curb and the driver jumped out and opened the passenger door. Duo
stared at the car's interior, nervous and uncertain. Milliardo realized that he
was going to lose his prize if he insisted. Instead, he spoke briefly to the
driver and gave him directions to a restaurant a few blocks away.

"We'll walk," Milliardo said, as if it were all decided. "It isn't far and
it's quiet. I'll order a private room and no one will bother us."

The young man grinned. That made it hard to gauge his real mood, but it was
telling that he said quickly, "Forget the private room. We'll eat out where
everyone else is, Milli." He didn't trust his old enemy. He wasn't a fool then.

"Don't call me that," Milliardo replied angrily, but then forced himself to
relax again. "Sorry. I've always hated that nickname. I much prefer Zechs if
Milliardo is too trying for you."

"Okay, Zechs," Duo agreed with an even wider grin. "I'll let you wine and dine
me, but, just so you know in advance, I can snap your neck in less than a blink
of an eye. I'm a trained killer, so don't get any ideas about revenge."

Zechs grinned back. "I'm an honorable man, sir. I've fought duels before. The
rules don't include a poison drink or a dagger in a back room. I assure you,
Duo Maxwell, that my intentions are just as I stated. I'm bored. I'm tired of
fools. I'm tired of insipid conversation. I want to talk to you soldier to
soldier. We don't have to be enemies any longer."

Duo gave him a long, silent appraisal and then he made up his mind. "Okay,
Zechs. Let's go talk."

They began to walk down the sidewalk just as a light drizzle of rain began.
Duo shivered and hunkered into his coat. Zechs found himself coming up close
behind the smaller man, almost instinctively, to block some of the rain.

Glancing behind him with a soldier's automatic wariness, Zechs saw Quatre
Winner exit the theater, gold hair shining in the lights and his ever present
smile warm on his entourage of admirers. He would have welcomed Duo with open
arms, Zechs knew, and felt the adrenalin excitement of an enemy thwarted. Duo
was going to be his tonight, he thought. Quatre could have his leavings
afterwards.

Duo walked slowly. It made Zechs impatient the way the boy seemed mesmerized
by every store front and wary of every puddle of water. They didn't say much,
just a comment about something Duo saw every now and then. The young man was
looking uncertain again, almost as if he were forcing himself to do something
wrong and didn't approve of himself. Zechs began to guess that his uncertain
state of mind was the cause of his dragging steps. Zechs tried to reassure him,
draw him deeper into his net.

"I truly respected all of the Gundam pilots, Heero Yuy especially," Zechs
said. "It was an honor and a great challenge to battle with you. Your abilities
and your dedication, as young as all of you were, was phenomenal. I always
regretted being your enemy."

Duo quirked a vicious smile and looked at him sideways. "Really? Was that
before or after you tried to wipe out everyone on Earth?"

Zechs felt a moment of blinding, exquisite fury. It was everything he could do
to quell it and to say, in a normal tone. "Circumstances don't always let us
chose our actions."

"Meaning it wasn't your fault?" Duo sounded edgy, sarcastic. "I'm sure all of
the soldiers who died, protecting Earth from you, could give a rat's ass
whether you blame yourself or someone else. You tried to do it, Zechs."

Zechs was losing him, and, for a moment, he almost wished he would. The young
man was bringing up the exact subject that he so wished to avoid.

"Well," Duo said with a dark chuckle. "You haven't pulled out a gun and shot
me yet. Maybe I can trust you... a little."

Zechs shot a hard look at Duo. The young man had a plastered on grin, but his
purple eyes were flat and hard. He had made a mistake thinking that Duo was
going to be easy entertainment. He was going to be a challenge instead, and
Zechs found that he much preferred that. He was done with dealing with the
insipid.

Zechs kept his voice even. "If you believe that I am the architect of
attempted mass murder, then why come with me at all?"

Duo thought that over, eyes narrowing. "Good question," he said at last. "I
don't know the answer to it yet." Truthful, straight forward. "I should be
ready to starve to death rather than accept a handout from you." He stopped and
frowned, realizing what he was saying. He shut his mouth and it went into a
thin line.

Ah, Zechs thought, mystery solved? He studied Duo surreptitiously as they
began walking again. The young pilot had looked well dressed and ready for a
night on the town. In reality, his clothes were wrinkled and creased, as if he
had slept in them for more than one night. His face was very pale and sunken a
little under his prominent cheeks. There was a tight look to his expression as
well, an expression that was suffering, but determined. Used to gauging
soldiers at a glance to estimate their danger or ability, Zechs recognized
instantly someone on the edge of collapse. It had only been Duo's outgoing
nature and his vibrant good looks that had kept Zechs from seeing it before. 

It made sense then, Duo's need to see Quatre Winner. If Duo was indeed lacking
in a place to live and money for food, then Quatre, his wealthy, fellow Gundam
pilot, would have been a likely choice to beg a favor of. Duo's prickly
behavior of before was understandable in light of that. Duo's pride had been
stinging.

Zechs kept the smile off of his face, but he was very pleased to have a trump
card now. Duo was in need. That was a powerful weapon.

***

Duo Maxwell's appetite was phenomenal. After Zechs had assured him that he was
paying for everything and to order what he wished, Zechs settled back in their
semi private booth and watched the ex Gundam pilot eat two steaks, a helping of
noodles in white sauce, onion soup with cheeses melted on the top, and an order
of sauteed vegetables garnished with stuffed mushrooms. The young man guzzled
down three glasses of milk at the end of it all and then wiped his mouth,
finally raising his eyes to Zechs. Zechs expected Duo to throw it all back up
at any moment. It didn't seem possible that Duo's slim body could hold it all
safely.

Duo grinned, guessing his thoughts. "Don't worry, I won't explode."

Zechs raised a pale eyebrow. "Where did you put it all?"

Duo chuckled as he piled the empty plates on top of each other and motioned
the server to take them away. "Coffee," he said to the man, but Zechs held up a
hand.

"Brandy," Zechs ordered instead. "A serious drink for serious reminiscing."

Duo frowned as the server went away. "I don't drink. It slows reaction time."

Zechs cocked his head at him as he shoved his own uneaten plate of scampi away
from him. "The war is over," Zechs replied bitterly. "You don't need fast
reflexes any more. You can drink yourself into the gutter. It doesn't matter."

Duo shrugged self deprecatingly. "I guess old habits die hard, especially
since I learned them on L2, not as a Gundam pilot."

The brandy came along with two goblets. Zechs filled them both and pushed one
towards Duo. He didn't take it. "L2," Zechs repeated, and then rudely, "So,
were you a thief, a whore, or a drug dealer?"

Duo blinked and grinned. Zechs was learning that Duo's grin wasn't necessarily
a sign of happiness, it was a sign of danger as well, danger for whomever was
testing his temper. That someone, this time, was Zechs. "I could be a rich
politician's son. Don't I look the type?"

Zechs was truthful. "No."

"You do," Duo replied, salting an old wound without knowing it.

Zechs thrust his anger down and replied quietly. "So...? "

Duo frowned and bowed his head so that his bangs hid his unusual eyes. He
played with the goblet of bandy. "Guess."

"Not a whore," Zechs replied and Duo looked up, startled. "You're far too
smart."

Duo's face went dark and his mouth twitched downward. "Too smart? You must
think most whores have a choice." he paused and then, in a lighter tone, "You
are right, though. I am far too smart."

"Thief then."

Duo's mouth quirked. "Why thief instead of drug dealer?"

"Drug dealers don't need personality," Zechs replied. "They have something
everyone has to have. A thief... a thief has to be able to run the con and fool
the mark."

Duo chuckled. "All right, you guessed. Are you going to have me arrested?"

Zechs shook his head, pushing loose strands of his long, white hair back over
his shoulder. "You're a hero," he replied. "A national treasure. A Gundam
pilot. You saved the Earth. You saved the colonies. You brought peace."

Duo's face turned dark and his slim hands closed on the stem of the goblet
hard. "Yeah, all of that!" he growled angrily. "What good did it do me in the
end?" As if making up his mind suddenly, he snorted derisively and brought the
goblet to his lips. He wasn't unfamiliar with the taste of alcohol, that was
apparent, but he still screwed his face up at the fire.

Zechs sighed. "Don't drink Brandy to drown depression. Brandy is to stir the
thoughts and loosen the tongue."

Duo raised eyebrows as he took another cautious sip. "A truth serum?" he asked
jokingly.

Zechs smiled back. "Of sorts. Sometimes a man can be too cautious. It hampers
the ability to exchange deeper thoughts."

Duo shrugged as he put his goblet down and turned the stem idly in his hands.
"I'm afraid I'm not very deep, Zechs. Maybe you should have picked on Trowa
Barton or Heero Yuy."

"They weren't standing on a street corner in the rain."

A hot bitter look past over Duo's face. He quickly stifled it, but words came
unwillingly from his lips. The brandy was working on his untrained tongue,
"Heero should have been."

Zechs filed that comment and chose not to pursue it. He turned the
conversation to the war instead and their places in it. He philosiphied and
tried to find the meaning while Duo scoffed and sneered and finally called
Zechs an aristocrat as if it were a swear word.

"You think war is noble and a fine game," Duo bit out as he took a longer
drink of his brandy. His hand was white on the stem and his eyes were hard and
a little wild with memory. "It took everything away from me, again and again,
killed everyone I loved, made me kill and fight in a Gundam when I should have
been playing harmless pranks and going to school without a care in the world.
It took from me, the war. For you, it just gave you opportunities."

That wasn't true, but Zechs didn't defend himself. Duo was slipping into a
warm drunk and anything he said at that point would only fuel Duo's depression
and anger. He waited instead, nodding as Duo placed the blame and wished for
revenge, a revenge he couldn't have now that there was peace.

Duo's head bobbed. His striking, purple eyes hooded. His handsome face
flushed. Zechs nodded to himself and hid his smile. Now. It was time. The prize
was his.

Zechs rose from his seat and moved around to Duo. Duo blinked up at him and
then began to collapse sideways. Only Zech's hand under his arm kept him from
hitting the floor. "You should rest," he said, feeling that Duo was already
past hearing, but wanting the other patrons to hear. He didn't want stories of
Milliardo Peacecraft kidnapping a pilot to circulate the loose tongues and the
media. "I'll take you to a hotel room and let you sleep it off, my friend."

Hooking a strong arm around Duo, Zechs felt a slight shock as he felt ribs and
a hard wiry body. Duo was as light as a feather. The young man had obviously
been living on the edge for some time. There was also a scent about him, a
telltale clue that told Zechs that the street might have been his home for a
few days. Duo was in desperate need. Zechs grew warm with pleasure as he
realized it. Duo needed and Zechs knew how to take full advantage of that need.

***

Duo slipped into complete unconsciousness in the limo. Zechs had the driver
take them to an expensive hotel, well appointed, and mindful of his privacy.
They didn't ask any questions when he carried Duo to his new room and they were
eager to fulfill all of his requests for personal items, clothing and
toiletries for the young man, and a carefully chosen meal to deal with an upset
stomach when he awoke.

Zechs was patience itself until the items he requested arrived. He was the
panther stalking his prey now, and he knew the importance of choosing the
ground for the kill. When everything was settled and the servants had gone,
only then did Zechs lock the door and turn to his prey.

Duo was sprawled out on the bed on his back, face pale and long braid a
chestnut trail along the coverlet. He was breathing softly. He didn't look
drunk. He looked very young, disturbingly so, and untroubled by dreams. The
sight almost made Zechs pause and reconsider... almost.

The depression still gripped him. He still needed a distraction, this hunt and
conquest, to keep his mind occupied and to keep the darkness from engulfing him
and gnawing on his soul. He feared that darkness, hated it, hated it enough to
do almost anything to avoid it.

Zechs moved quietly to stand by the bed. His hands trembled as he reached down
and slowly began undoing the buttons of Duo's shirt. Why did it feel so wrong?
Zechs had tumbled scores of willing men and women, people who were eager to do
anything to bask in his glow, drawn by his position, his good looks, and his
connections. Never once had he hesitated or given thought to the morality of
it. He slaked his need and they spread their legs... willingly... perhaps a
few, not so willing. War was war. Opportunities weren't always pure and clean
cut. 

A Gundam pilot. The enemy. A brash, rude, gutter rat who admitted to thievery.
It was a privilege for someone like that to be noticed by someone like Zechs.
He almost convinced himself that Duo would wake and be glad, grateful even,
especially when Zechs rewarded him with some much needed credit. Yes, he'd
reward Duo a thousand times over to keep that self destructive darkness at bay.

Half of the buttons were undone. Zechs, eager to see Duo's nipples, spread the
material out. A chill traveled up his spine. Bandages were revealed instead of
the creamy skin he had expected. The bandages were spotted with fresh and dried
blood.

Zechs took a long moment to process this new development. He finished
unbuttoning Duo's shirt and then he peeled it back completely. What he found
was ugly. Someone had beaten Duo to within an inch of his life. The wounds had
been professionally treated, but Zechs, trained in battle first aide, could see
plainly that Duo should have still been in a hospital bed recovering, not
wandering rainy streets on the edge of starvation. His slow steps on the way to
the restaurant were suddenly understandable.

Prey turned into victim in the blink of an eye. Zechs didn't question that,
didn't stop to think why he didn't call an ambulance then and there and have
the boy taken for treatment. His use to Zechs was done. He wasn't in any shape
to be a diversion. Zechs wasn't so far gone as to take pleasure in a rack of
bones and wounds.

Zechs checked all of the boys' wounds and felt a wave of anger and disgust at
the impression of steel toed boots on soft skin and obvious hand and fist marks
all over the young man. Someone had beaten him far past what was necessary to
make any point. It was clearly the sign of some unbalanced mind. Zechs, dealing
with his own inner demons, could recognize the signs easily.

Zechs finished and then made the young man more comfortable on the bed. He
covered him with the blanket, even though Duo still had on his coat, and left
him there.

Zechs ordered a bottle of strong liquor from room service and, after it had
been delivered and he had been left alone again, he did what he had planned to
do before running into a long haired Gundam pilot. Zechs proceeded to drown his
depression until he didn't feel anything any more.

***

"Heero?" Duo said into the phone. His head was pounding and there was a sick,
bitter taste in his mouth. He had woken up alone in a strange hotel room. A
brief note from Zechs had told him to order room service and to make himself
comfortable. Duo had checked to make sure his clothes were still buttoned and
zipped and had felt tremendous relief to discover that they were. He was
puzzled, but glad that he had only made a jackass of himself and passed out
drunk rather than the unthinkable alternative. He wasn't ready to give up his
virginity yet, not to a man and not especially to Zechs, Milliardo Peacecraft,
his enemy.

"Heero?" Duo repeated. "Come on man! Don't be like this! Let's forgive and
forget, okay buddy? You were wrong. I was wrong. No, I wasn't looking at you
when you came out of the shower! I promise! I don't go that way, Heero, honest!
Yeah... yeah, I'll get a job and I'll keep it this time. No, no more baka Duo.
Hey, uh, thanks for sending me to the hospital, man. I know... yeah, I wouldn't
want someone's corpse stinking up my apartment either. Thanks Heero. I'll do
better this time, okay, just let me move back in... what, you threw out my
stuff?" Duo swallowed hard and wiped at his eyes. "S'okay, Heero. Yeah, I'll
just get new stuff. Just let me... really? Thanks man! I'll be there in an
hour!"

Duo hung up the phone. He took a deep breath, feeling a mingling of relief and
trepidation. Time to go home.

==========================================

#2 - Burning Brightly

"No, don't call the police," Zechs said into his cell phone. "Let him do what
he wants within reason. Charge everything to my account."

Zechs lowered his phone and met the puzzled, bored, and annoyed expressions of
the dignitaries seated all around him.

"Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, for the interruption," Zech apologized
smoothly. "We were talking about subchapter nine alpha and how it could be
improvised to cover the law one eight four Zero. I think..."

***

Duo lay on his back amid piles of dirty dishes, tumbled glasses, and expensive
pillows. He burped and giggled, smiling inanely at the ceiling as he waited for
the police to arrive. The opulent hotel room, the abused wait staff, the loud
music from the room stereo system, and the continuous, empty promises to pay,
were all culminating, rising higher and higher on the strength of his boldness,
but destined to tumble and fall and wash up on the shore of outrage.

"Shinigami is at least going to be warm and have a full stomach before he gets
locked in a cell," Duo sighed and then giggled again.

It was a definite rush, being daring again, being the outrageous, death
defying young man who had been the thieving terror of L2. Duo had pulled the
same stunt there several times, but then he hadn't used the name of one of the
most famous dignitaries in Outer Space or on Earth as his credit, and he hadn't
waited around for the consequences to catch up to him either. That was just
self destructive, yet it was exactly how he was feeling at the moment.

"Damn Heero anyway!" Duo growled, found a comfortable place in the pillows
that didn't bother his bandaged wounds and bruises too much, and then tried to
sleep without dreams; the sleep of the innocent, the sleep of the child he had
never been.

***

Heero Yuy paced the small, two bedroom apartment.

"Why doesn't that baka call?" He grumbled and glared at the phone as if it
were the phone's fault. Three days to cool down, and Duo was always ready to
apologize and try again. It was day four now. Heero was beginning to worry. A
distraction. He hated it. He had an important job and important duties in the
Preventers. He didn't need to be worrying about an irresponsible, long haired,
ex pilot.

Heero rubbed at the bandage on his knuckles. It was still raw from beating
Duo. Maybe he had been too rough? It was often hard for Heero to tell. He had
been trained to kill, not to coddle and be wary of breaking bones. If only Duo
hadn't argued. If only he hadn't lost yet another job. If only he hadn't been
so damned unconcerned, irreverent, flippant, and imperfect. Heero supposed the
last bothered him most of all.

Heero was neat, orderly, on time, and conscientious about every detail of his
life. He hadn't wanted to be saddled with a young man who was the complete
opposite, yet, during the war, they had often found themselves forced to be on
the same missions, in the same houses, and even in the same rooms. They had
found a balancing point, of sorts, and they had managed to live in relative
peace... peace, that was the root of their problems now. Duo still acted as if
he were in the war, on the edge, ready to die with each rising of the sun. He
couldn't bring himself to care about every day life. He couldn't get past the
old habit of living what life he thought he had left to the fullest. Doing that
didn't include laundry, dishes, jobs, and most responsibilities. Heero had
slipped, with surprising ease, into his new life as a Preventer, transitioning
smoothly from outlaw freedom fighter to responsible, law abiding citizen.

Heero rubbed at his knuckles again and glared at the phone once more. Where
was Duo now? How badly was he hurt? They were friends, as much as he sometimes
wished that they weren't, but the silence of the apartment was growing
unbearable. Heero was finding that he didn't like it, hated it enough to even
put up with Duo despite what he now knew about him. Besides being the
irresponsible slob that he was, Heero had also figured out that the young man
was gay. He didn't even think that baka Duo knew it himself. It had enraged
Heero at first, finding Duo ogling him as he had come out of the shower, but it
had been the double combination of that shock and seeing Duo counting money
that he couldn't possibly have gotten in his unemployed state. Duo had taken to
stealing again. Heero had snapped at that and he had lost control.

Heero recalled clearly coming down from his adrenalin rush of anger and
finding Duo broken at his feet. The frantic call to 911 and the wait had been
the longest in his life. For some reason, that small space of time, until the
paramedics had arrived and assured Heero that Duo was going to live, had seemed
more frantic, painful, and desperate than when he had blown up a rebel
stronghold with Relena inside and had been forced to wait until confirmation
that she had survived it. It bothered him that Duo could mean so much more to
him. It seemed a weakness and, to Heero, it was completely unfathomable.

He should be glad that Duo was gone for good, Heero thought. He should be
tossing out the young man's things for real, not just saying so out of anger,
yet Heero didn't make any motion to do so. It came to him that, if he kept
those things, Duo would have to, at some point, come back for them. Heero was
uncomfortable with self knowledge, knowing that he longed for that very thing.

Heero picked up the phone and began calling hospitals again. He had punched
Duo in his damaged ribs. He remembered the impact of his fist, wanting to shut
the baka up and stop his pathetic attempts to explain why he had lost another
job and why he couldn't get his head out of the war and into regular life.
Maybe he had done the young man some real damage.

Heero had heard all of Duo's excuses before, time and time again, and Heero
had swallowed them, nodded sympathetically to them, and tried to help Duo as
best he could. That last time though, he had stopped listening and his fist had
expressed his anger and frustration. He had been glad to see Duo leave... or so
he had thought. He didn't want to admit to himself that, if Duo walked through
the front door, then and there, he would gladly forgive and try and help the ex
Gundam pilot once more. Duo was his friend, almost his only friend, or at least
one of the few that had lived the life he had and could understand him because
of it. Heero knew that he would find it hard to live without that. He had to
find Duo. He had to bring him back home.

***

Zechs looked slowly, unbelieving, over the disaster of the hotel room. How
could the young man eat so much and cause so much damage in so little time
and... where was he?

Zechs stepped over the trash, over the plates, cups, and snack bags, walked
around a television that had been placed on the floor, stepped over a childish
attempt to stack furniture, and almost stepped on Duo snuggled deep in a mound
of pillows and blankets on the floor.

Zechs blinked, startled, and then cautiously crouched, ready to spring back.
He was facing a Gundam pilot with hair trigger reflexes. Zechs was a soldier,
had lived with nothing but soldiers for as long as he could remember. He knew
how to behave around them. A person startled a soldier out of sleep at peril of
his life.

Duo was very pale and his bangs stirred with every labored breath. There was a
trickle of blood at the corner of his lips.

Zechs straightened as if he had been shot and he flipped his cell phone open.
Quickly, he called for an ambulance. That done, he crouched again and pulled
the blankets off of Duo cautiously.

Duo had his arms wrapped around his ribs as if he were in pain even in his
sleep... but he wasn't sleeping, Zechs realized with a chill. He was in shock.

"What has happened to you now?" Zechs wondered angrily. He unwrapped Duo's
arms and unbuttoned the young man's shirt. Underneath a gold cross was the same
crisscrossing of bandages Zechs had seen at their first encounter, only now
there was blood seeping into the bandages.

"It looks as if you need me again," Zechs said grimly, but couldn't help the
warmth of pleasure that mingled with his concern. The scale was tipping his
way. Duo owed him a great deal now and Zechs intended to collect that debt
fully.

***

Duo awoke in a comfortable hospital bed, warm, full of saline solution, and,
for once, well rested. It was almost a temptation to keep his eyes closed and
avoid reality as long as possible, but, that wasn't his nature. He met danger
and adversity head on and with a silly grin, that was his trademark. Shinigami
wasn't afraid of a little reality.

Duo fully expected one of his ankles to have a police security cuff to keep
him from escaping. When he wriggled his feet, he didn't find one, or a police
officer standing guard over his door for that matter. Instead, the door was
open to an empty corridor, the hustle and bustle of hospital life coming to him
faintly. It seemed he was free to go if he chose... or maybe more accurately,
if he could.

Duo touched his bandaged ribs. He could feel injected bonding holding the
bones together. That was only used on the most desperate cases, cases who they
knew wouldn't take care of themselves long enough to heal naturally. They were
all but saying that they thought that Duo was suicidal.

"Shows how much they know about me," Duo breathed as he tried to sit up. The
world faded in and out and he decided against it. "I don't want to die," he
whispered. "Heero Yuy is just trying to force me to 'for my own good'."

"Too many drugs?" a husky voice wondered.

Duo started and, out of habit, reached for a weapon he didn't have. It took
him a moment to orient his mind to accept that Zechs was in the same room with
him and that he wasn't an enemy... yet. "Just talking to myself," Duo replied
with a grin. "I'm good at that. I have to be because nobody else ever listens
to me."

"I'm listening," Zechs replied as he came close, but not too close to the
bedside.

Duo wasn't good at being contrite. He couldn't drop his grin long enough. "Ah,
you're probably looking for an apology or an explanation, right? Well, if you
remember, you left me a note to take advantage of the accommodations... I, uh,
just took advantage of them a lot later than you probably intended."

Zechs didn't allow himself to look amused, even though he was by the ex
pilot's bravado. "You did considerable damage to the hotel room. That and this
expert medical treatment have cost me dearly."

Duo felt an edge of anger. "Yeah, well, sorry about the hotel room. I was
pretty sick and out of it when I checked in. Patching me up was really nice of
you, all things considered. I'm sure, though, being the brother of the Queen of
the Universe, it didn't set your wallet back too far."

Zechs pursed his lips. He had expected more gratitude and some sense of debt.
Duo's flippant remark had caught him by surprise. He frowned and began to turn.
"Well, since you are obviously going to survive your injuries, I will inform
the police of my grievances against you."

"Okay," Duo replied.

Zechs turned back to look at him. Duo was making himself comfortable in the
bed, wincing at some pain, but Zechs had obviously been dismissed from his mind
already.

"Okay?" Zechs echoed. "Don't you care that you are about to be charged and
perhaps arrested?"

"No," Duo replied as he snuggled into his pillow. "Could you close the door,
man? It's noisy out there and I need to sleep some more."

Zechs blinked. "Perhaps you think I am bluffing?"

Duo frowned a little, a slight crinkling of his elfin face. "Why would I think
that? You're a serious man. I believe what you're saying. I'm about to be
arrested. Fine. Nothing I can do about it, so I'm going to catch some z's
before they show up, K? Hopefully, there won't be any ex Oz personal in the
force with a grudge. I don't think my ribs can take any more punches."

"I'm owed something for my trouble," Zechs seethed.

Duo said sadly, "Sorry, I don't own anything at the moment to repay you with.
Guess you'll have to chalk it up to 'doing it out of the goodness of your
heart.' "

Zechs flushed hotly and he hated the sudden feeling of guilt that washed over
him. He almost suspected Duo of realizing his plans, and mocking him, but then
Zechs scoffed. He hadn't given Duo any indication that he was interested in him
as anything more than a curiosity from the war. Duo was just needling him for
being an aristocrat and worrying about a few credits like some stingy miser.

Zechs began to leave again. Duo's face was smoothing out. He was still
drugged, somewhat, from the operation on his ribs, and sleep wasn't going to be
a problem for the ex pilot. Perhaps keeping secrets was.

"Good thing he didn't use his fist on your face," Zechs said absently as he
stopped at he door.

"Yeah," Duo replied around a sleepy yawn. "Well, he did, but not too much. I
hid it with some skin colored sunscreen. Heero's such a bastard. " Duo yawned
again. "I was just lookin' ."

Zechs raised eyebrows. "Looking at what?" he prodded.

"Shower. Hmm, " Duo was almost asleep. "Just looked. He got all mad. Beat the
crap out of me. Wanted me to... unhm... respect his privates... oh," he hissed
a chuckle. "Privacy. Stupid shit," Duo slurred. "MMm, not gay. Just lookin.
Even guys look, right?"

Zechs smiled. "Yes, they do," he replied in triumph, but Duo was asleep now.
He probably wouldn't even remember the conversation later.

Zechs left the room, but instead of calling for the police, he made
arrangements for Duo's care and left a note with some credit. The note said
simply, To the Duo Maxwell charity. He knew it was going to prick the young
man's pride, but Zechs was an excellent judge of character. He knew to use the
whip sometimes to bring an overly spirited creature to heel. He would hold out
the sugar and gain his trust again later. There was time to play out the game
and Zechs wanted to draw out the diversion of Duo Maxwell as long as possible. 

***

"Sorry, Heero.... Yes, I know I was wrong." Duo leaned against the vid screen
booth and looked at Heero's dark expression. "I shouldn't have mouthed off to
you. I know I have to be responsible and grow up. I can't expect you or Sally
Po to pay my way through life and wipe my ass."

"I need proof of the information you're giving me, Duo," Heero replied coldly.
"A real paycheck stub. I want to be certain that you aren't paying your half of
the bills with stolen money."

"Heero!" Duo glared. "I told you where the money came from. A painted a house
on Versado street. Go and look. Blue with white trim."

Heero shook his head in exasperation. "You are wasting your considerable
talents. If you would show some discipline, Sally Po would assign you to
mechanics or field assignments."

Duo went pale and grim. "No, no field assignments. I'm not- I won't take the
chance that I might have to shoot someone, even if he is a bad guy. I'm done
killing, Heero."

"Then mechanics, at least," Heero pressed.

"Yeah," Duo rubbed the back of his neck. "That would be good. I'm tired of
grunt work."

"Then show responsibility," Heero urged. "Show up for work on time, dressed
properly, and cut your braid. You know Sally won't assign you to machinery
because it is such a hazard."

"I won't do that!" Duo seethed. "You know why!"

"Then be content with screwing on nuts and bolts and painting houses for a
living, Duo. Everyone is done coddling you and waiting for you to recover from
the war."

"Recover from the war?" Duo growled angrily. "How about recover from my life
in general? How do you recover from that, Heero?"

"You have to, Duo. We all do." Heero grew impatient. "I have work to do, Duo.
I've told you my terms. Show me a pay stub, and pay your half of the rent, or
you can't come back."

"I've got it under control, Heero," Duo assured him. "I'll see you tonight."

Heero didn't say goodbye. The vid screen just went blank. Duo looked down at
the credits in his hands and sighed.

"Well, thank you, Zechs," Duo muttered. "Looks like you've helped me out
again." It left a bitter taste in Duo's mouth. So many people had helped him,
Duo thought. Why did Zechs 'charity' bother him so much? 

Duo pocketed the credits. First months rent, he thought. Now, he just needed
the pay stub and then he would be able to go back home.

***

Zechs was sitting in an outside cafe, sipping espresso. He wore a glittering
coat of scarlet and gold stitchery and his hair was loose, a fall of snow white
to his waist. He was a perfect foil for the flittering, bejeweled female on the
opposite side of the table from him. A major functionaries daughter, she had
latched on to Zechs after a boring gathering, and Zechs had thought it
impolitic to shake her off. After fifteen minutes of her babbling conversation,
Zechs was completely unaware of a thing she had said so far.

A dark figure strode through the crowds on the boulevard, a patch of darkness
with chestnut hair and a very pale face. His two, violet eyes were enormous in
his pinched face.

How long had it been. Six days? The depression had almost returned full force,
especially when Zechs had discovered that Duo had done nothing more exciting
than give his credits to Heero Yuy. He had expected something wilder, more
flamboyant from the grinning young man, not something so mundane. Zechs had
expected to drop in on chaos, a party, another hotel room, something totally
irresponsible.

What was he looking for? Zechs wondered. They were on the high side of town.
Everything was triple the price and a hundred times finer than even a few
blocks away. Only upper crust dared to walk the sidewalks, frequent the shops,
and dine in the restaurants, price no object at least where they were concerned.

Duo leaned against a wall that was well lit. He stuck hands in his pockets. He
wasn't even wearing a coat, Zechs noticed, and saw Duo settle and simply begin
watching the people walking by. It wasn't long before a man approached Duo.
They leaned close and talked. Duo nodded. It was then that Zechs narrowed his
eyes and saw that the top of Duo's black jeans were unzipped and his belt was
loose.

Zechs was out of his chair in an instant and striding towards the pair,
ignoring the startled eep! of his companion. She was forgotten in the rush of
blood and the anger at the very idea that someone was about to slip in and
claim his diversion, his prey, his Duo! 

"... and we don't like riff raff around here, young man, so, move along!" the
man was saying to a very quiet Duo.

Zechs checked his mad rush. He calmed himself with an effort. He had almost
panicked and ruined the game. He waited until Duo began to walk away from the
man and only then did he step forward.

"We meet again," Zechs said smoothly.

Duo froze and his pinched face tightened even more. He didn't look at Zechs.
He was ashamed, that was clear. "I- I don't have anything to say, Zechs. Maybe
another time, K?"

"After it's too late to help you?" Zechs wondered. "After some rich, hairy,
old, aristocrat gropes you and then pays you for the privilege?"

Duo shook his head sharply and his long braid whipped about at the motion. He
gripped his stomach with one arm and began walking away. Zechs blocked his path
and bent a little to look into the shorter man's face. "What did you do to have
him beat you this time?"

"Lost my job... again," Duo sighed in defeat and then angrily. "I wasn't- why
did you think I was going to-, " he was flustered, confused, embarrassed,
ashamed.

"Zip up your pants, Duo," Zechs said pointedly. "This never happened, all
right?"

Duo did as he was told with shaking hands. Zechs smile inwardly. Good. Duo was
beginning to accept his authority. Duo said in a trembling voice, "I wasn't
going to... not with a guy... I was hoping for..."

"Some rich, old lady who liked a handsome face and purple eyes?" Zechs
finished. "They don't need to pick up people off the street, Duo. They have
enough respectable whores in the upper crust of society."

Duo choked on a laugh and then grew suddenly bitter. "Guess this was pretty
stupid, even for me."

"You told me you were smarter than that," Zechs reminded him. "I would have
thought that stealing would have been your first choice."

Duo winced. "Can't really spring through windows and jimmied vents when I'm in
this shape.... and, well, I promised Heero..."

"Do you keep promises even when you're starving to death?" Zechs wondered.

Duo grimaced. "I think you don't see the bigger problem. Heero's a cop. If I
was caught, he'd give me more than a few broken ribs. I don't want to die just
yet."

"You've come close to it."

"Yeah," Duo sighed and then grimaced again. "This is stupid. I'm wasting my
time here. I guess... I guess I'm not thinking too clearly. I can't even move
fast enough to steal someone's wallet."

Zechs pulled his wallet out of his pants. He took out a few credits and then
dropped it on the ground. Duo stared at it. "Finders keepers," Zechs said. "At
least you don't have to steal it now."

Zechs walked away without another word. Some sugar and another lash of the
whip, he thought with a grim smile. He rejoined his companion in the cafe and
smoothed things over with a contrived explanation. Settling back into his chair
and enduring her babbling speech again, Zechs looked past her. He smiled when
he saw that Duo and the wallet were both gone.

==========================================

#3 - Twisted Up

"I'm not going to help you, if you don't help yourself," Quatre Winner said as
he handed Duo a cup of tea and settled in the posh chair opposite him. With an
ornate, cheery wood table and a tea service between them, doilies under scones,
and the flash of very expensive tableware, Duo felt very out of place.

Duo sipped at his tea and hated it. He wanted coffee, but he wasn't going to
make any demands when he was at such a disadvantage. "What are you saying, Q-
man?"

Quatre sipped at his tea and studied Duo over the rim. He put his cup down and
turned it around and around in his hands nervously. "Heero told me you had been
stealing, that you had been acting very unstable."

Duo scowled and shoved aside his tea. He started to get up. "I see, that
bastard already called and told you not to help me. Why doesn't he keep his
fucking-"

"Duo!" Quatre barked.

Duo stopped speaking. It always surprised him when Quatre dropped his innocent
boy routine. The blonde Arabian was a shrewd business man and a politician. He
wasn't an innocent or a fool. He knew when he was being played for a soft
touch. Duo settled back into his chair and crossed his arms over his chest
sullenly.

"I'm not going to throw money at your problems," Quatre informed him sternly.
"That won't make them go away. You need therapy, Duo. I'll make appointments
with some fine doctors and they'll help you to adjust to society. With some
medication, and some positive mental therapies, you'll soon be able to live a
normal life."

Medication?" Duo stood up again, frowning darkly. "Yeah, fine, medicate the
problems away, medicate my stinking childhood away, medicate all the people I
killed in the war away, medicate away every freakin' Oz atrocity and torture
that I witnessed. Yeah, I'll be nice and normal then. I'll go get a job
flipping burgers or cut my hair and be a grease mechanic for Sally Po."

"It's not like that," Quatre replied softly. "They'll help you with the
depression... isn't that what makes you do the crazy things you do, Duo? You
try to get rid of it any way you can... it won't let you live a normal life
with a normal job and responsibilities. It's too painful."

Duo slumped in his chair, staring down at the hands in his lap. "Yeah," he
said in a small voice.

"Let me really help you," Quatre begged.

Duo nodded his assent, too tired, too hungry, too needy for Quatre's help to
refuse. It was becoming a habit, Duo thought darkly, thinking of Zechs. What
had happened to his pride?

***

"I don't get it." Duo shifted uncomfortably in his chair as the psychiatrist
slowly walked around him with a clipboard. Once in awhile the man lifted the
clipboard and scribbled a note. Duo wondered what he was writing. Good or bad?
He shivered and controlled it with an effort. It felt too much like an Oz
interrogation. Sterile room, two chairs, one plain desk, and man who asked one
question after another.

"Mr. Maxwell, " the man said in exasperation. "You have been through three
weeks of mental therapy. At the beginning of each session, I ask about your
medication. What is it that you 'don't get'?"

"How you or the medication is helping me," Duo grumbled and slumped in his
chair, hands hanging between his legs. "I don't feel any better than when I
started."

The doctor was old and wearing a white lab coat. His white hair, short
clipped, and long nose, made him look unusual and very curious. He eyed Duo
intently as he explained, "These things take time, sometimes years. You want
instant results. That isn't going to happen."

"Years?" Duo shook his head. "No way am I doing this for years, man!"

The doctor scribbled something onto his clip board. "I take it, then, that you
HAVEN'T been taking your medication?"

"Is it supposed to make me agree to this crap?" Duo shot back.

Another scribble on the clipboard. Duo saw the word, 'paranoia' briefly before
the doctor turned it away from him. Duo stood up. "That's it! I'm gone. You
don't know anything about me! You can't possibly cure me when you don't even
know what the problem is!"

The doctor was calm as Duo headed for the door. "I can sum up your problem
with a question, Mr. Maxwell."

Duo looked over his shoulder and paused, curious despite his anger. "A
question?"

"A simple question, Mr. Maxwell," the doctor affirmed and then struck right to
Duo's heart, stunning him. "What do you have to live for, Mr. Maxwell? Until
you can answer that question, you won't be cured. You will continue this
suicidal, destructive, immature behavior."

Duo frowned and a hand raised involuntarily to rub at his aching heart. "I
know the answer to your question already. It's 'nothing'. I don't have anything
to live for. There's no point to life, so I intend to enjoy myself until..."

"Until?" The doctor echoed. "Do you hear yourself, Mr. Maxwell? You are quite
obviously suicidal. If Mr. Winner had not given specific instructions to the
contrary, I would have had you committed immediately for observation. You need
help. You need therapy to help you find 'the point' to life, Mr. Maxwell."

Duo shrugged his shoulders. "Don't worry about me, doc. Shinigami doesn't want
to die."

The doctor was very serious. "Do you imagine that your destructive habits are
not a form of suicide? Mr. Maxwell, please, allow me to continue treating you.
I warn you, if you go now, I will have to inform Mr. Winner. He will cut off
your funds."

Duo grinned, a dangerous manic grin as he walked out the door. "Thought so.
It's all about the money. You don't want yourself cut of from the Winner cash
cow. You're like all the rest. You don't give a flying fuck about me."

Duo walked to the nearest pay vid screen, dropped in his money, and dialed
Heero's number. He had told a white lie and it made him uncomfortable. There
was one man who cared, but Heero was dangerous. He didn't coddle Duo with fine
words and a diploma, he forced Duo to be normal with a soldier's cruelty and a
hard fists when he failed to perform. It always worked... for awhile. It would
do. It was bearable, Duo thought, until he found something else.

***

Heero watched Duo out of the corner of his eye as the young man walked across
the living room to go into the kitchen. He was wearing a pair of shorts and
nothing else, drying his hair with a towel briskly, the wet strands hanging all
about him.

Like a wet , long haired, dog, Heero thought sourly, but his eyes were zeroing
in on Duo's erect, pink nipples and the very slim line of his waist. Slightly
damp still, the shorts clung to the small, rounded cheeks of his ass. He looked
almost feminine, Heero thought; relaxed, hair loose, shapely legs sedately
taking him out of Heero's sight.

Heero felt an erection. He moved his jeans uncomfortably and shifted in his
chair, computerized reports forgotten for the moment. His reaction troubled
him. He wasn't gay, but he took whatever opportunity presented itself. Sexual
frustration hampered his efficiency. Still, he didn't want to be attracted to
Duo. The young man was bad news and Heero had very little self control where he
was concerned. He had allowed Duo to return to the apartment as long as he kept
his job at a tile cutting factory, but Heero knew it wouldn't last long. Duo
would lose that job, mouth off again, do something foolish, illegal, or just
plain insane. Heero would hurt him again, it was inevitable. The boy pushed
every one of Heero's buttons. It was almost as if he were asking for the
punishment.

Heero hated those moments when he lost control. Common sense told him to cut
the young man loose, once and for all, and to forget about him. Duo was a lost
cause. He shouldn't be a party to the young man's self destruction, yet, when
Duo wasn't there to tease and torment him, Heero felt somehow dead inside.
Heero had girlfriends. He had a rewarding career. He was on the fast track to
being head of the Preventers when Sally Po stepped down. Everything was going
right for him. He shouldn't need a baka from L2 to keep him company.... yet he
did. He couldn't explain it even to himself, but, he felt, it was the root
cause of why he lost control when Duo failed to meet his expectations. He
wanted Duo around him. He wanted Duo to be his friend. He didn't want Duo to
make that impossible.

And now... Heero watched Duo come out of the kitchen with a sandwich and a
glass of milk. The boy settled, cross legged, on the couch and stared at
nothing while he ate. Heero found himself looking at the beautiful line of
Duo's slim waist again and felt temptation. Heero's erection grew stronger. For
the first time, Heero wanted something more than inane talk. And why not? he
reasoned with himself. He needed to finish his reports. He needed to get rid of
the need and its distraction. His girlfriends were inconveniently elsewhere.
Duo was gay. Why would he object? Heero didn't think that he would.

Heero stood and walked over to Duo. Duo didn't notice, deep in thought, mouth
chewing automatically. His hair was all about him, still damp and a long way
from being dry. It clung to his thin body, covering all the bone deep, black
and blue bruises, the knitting ribs, and the scrapes from being thrown to the
floor. Yes, Heero thought, licking his lips, it would be easy to pretend that
Duo was a woman. He was very pretty in the face with his huge eyes and smiling
mouth.

Duo finally noticed. He looked up, blinking in confusion. "What's up, Heero?"
he asked.

"I wish to change our arrangement," Heero said.

Duo went pale and nervous, putting milk and sandwich on the coffee table as if
he were getting ready to run. "Uh, well, why? I still have my job. I've been
showing up on time. I gave you all of my first paycheck. What's to change?"

"I have to concentrate on my work, " Heero told him. "I find relationships
with women at this time to be time consuming and distracting. It is inefficient
when I only need simple relief, not their companionship."

"Okay...," Duo blinked again. "So you don't want to wine and dine a girl just
to get some. I can understand that. I guess Mr. Heero Yuy hand is going to get
some extra attention," he chuckled, finding the entire conversation strange.
Heero Yuy didn't talk about personal things, especially not about his sex life.
Duo couldn't help his next question, even though a primal warning bell was
going off in his head. "So, why tell me?" he smiled hopefully. "Want me to take
the girls off your hands?"

"That would be a mistake, since you don't have any interest in women," Heero
replied, his eyes boring into Duo's.

Duo's eyes widened and he felt creeping shock and uneasiness. "What? Why do
you say that?"

Heero cocked his head sideways as if puzzled by Duo's denseness. "I have never
seen you with a woman. I have never heard you even speak of one in a sexual
manner."

"Uhm, I'm not that old, Heero. I guess I'm just a late bloomer." Duo started
to get up, but Heero's hand closed on his shoulder and held him there. He
looked at it and then back at Heero. "Okay, you wanna tell me what you're
thinking, Heero?"

"I wish to have sexual relations with you," Heero finally admitted. "You will
give me oral stimulation, or, if you prefer, I will enter you anally. This will
relieve my stress and allow me to continue working at peak performance. I will,
of course, allow you a reduced rent to compensate you-"

Duo slid out from under Heero's hand, wrenching his shoulder painfully. His
mouth was hanging open and he felt suddenly very afraid. "I- I'm not gay!"

Heero frowned. "My observations are not incorrect," he replied. "You have
shown homosexual tendencies towards me. I am proposing a situation where you
are allowed an outlet for your sexual urges and I am relieved of my sexual
stress and need for women."

Duo stammered and then he backed away. "You aren't going to pay me off to suck
your cock like some L2 whore, you freakin' pervert!"

"Are you a virgin?" Heero asked grimly. "That would explain your reticence.
I'll show you how it's done." He reached out and grabbed Duo hard by the arms.
Before Duo could resist, Heero was pinning him to the couch face down and
pulling down his shorts. "A few of the women I have had sexual relations with
were virgins as well. Once I entered them and demonstrated what they were to
do, they were agreeable to continuing the relationship."

"Get off me! Heero, I'm going to kill you! Get the hell off!" Duo screamed. He
was about to be raped. His mind ran in little circles of panic as he tried
unsuccessfully to throw Heero off of him, but injury and too many missed meals
had made him too weak. He wasn't any match for Heero's steel bending strength.

Heero's hard hand opened Duo's ass cheeks and he spit there several times. It
felt warm and disgusting. Heero fondled him, squeezing flesh. "Very much like a
woman's buttocks," Heero said in a low, husky voice. "I will not have any
trouble imagining that they are."

"Don't do this!" Duo whimpered and then, feeling every fiber of his being
cringe, he offered, "I'll suck you off, man. I will. Come on! Let me do that. I
don't want to get raped by you, k?"

Heero grunted and suddenly Duo was being pulled up and his face was being
forced towards Heero's large erection. "Rape between two men is impossible,"
Heero stated. "but your offer is acceptable," Heero agreed.

Duo came face to slit with Heero's dripping, swollen member. He made a plan in
a split second of time and squirmed under Heero's grip. "Not the hair, man. Let
go of it. You don't have to force me, k? I'm gay, remember? I've always wanted
to suck your cock."

Heero grunted and let Duo go. He leaned back into the couch and spread his
legs a little, waiting, too confident in their long friendship, Duo's
passivity, and his own cold, facts. When Duo hit him with both fists clenched
together, full force, straight into his scrotum, Heero collapsed in agony. Duo
was up at once and slamming his foot into the side of Heero's head, not once,
but twice with a burning fury. Heero toppled unconscious to the floor with
barely time for a single cry.

"Fucker!" Duo screamed at him, shaking from head to foot. "You CAN rape a man!
You were gonna rape me! You fucking asshole!" Duo kicked him in the crotch
again. "I made it through my childhood on L2 without having some ass wipe screw
me, I'm not about to let Heero Fucking Yuy do it now!" 

Duo saw Heero stir. Terror seized Duo, even though he knew that he had the
upper hand. Heero had always accomplished the impossible, a super man, it
didn't seem unlikely that he would recover from that kind of punishment and
either try to rape Duo again or resort to his usual tactics, beating Duo to
death. It was time to get out of there.

"Keep the damned rent money!" Duo shouted from his bedroom as he pulled up his
shorts and tossed some of what few possessions he had into a duffel bag. He
climbed into shirt and shoes, forgot his coat, and snagged his sandwich on the
way out of the front door. He ran into the night, ignoring the cold and the
rain. He didn't know where he was going, but he knew he would never go crawling
back to Heero again.

***

"Sir, there's a young man at the front entrance who is asking for you," the
cultured voice of the servant said with some trepidation from the intercom
system.

"One of Relena's servants? I'm not in any mood to see her tonight," Zechs
growled as he downed a glass of wine with a few gulps and then put the glass
down on a side table a little too hard. He glared at the fireplace, lounging in
a comfortable, blue cotton shirt and white cotton pants. He white hair was a
loose fall over his shoulders and his bangs were disordered and hanging over
his intense blue eyes. He had just sent another young man on his way after a
dissatisfying evening of insipid talk and even more insipid sex. Zechs was
poised to go out on the town and find another diversion, one who had more of a
chance of distracting him from the darkness with in himself.

"Sir...,' the voice stopped and then decided to rethink his rash decision to
interrupt Zechs. "I'll call for the police sir. I'm sorry to bother you. He's
obviously some demented street person..."

Zechs sat up straight in his chair, senses becoming alert. "Wait! Describe him."

"Well, sir...," the voice struggled to find a concise description. "He is
wearing shorts, sir, even in this ghastly weather, and loafers instead of
proper shoes. He is blue with cold and he doesn't look well, sir. He has...
well sir, he has hair at least five feet long and it's tangled and wet. I am
reluctant to send him back outside for fear that he will expire in under a
minute. He looks that bad off, sir. I'm sure the proper authorities will take
him under their care and make certain-"

"You're a good man, to care about such an individual," Zechs replied smoothly,
"We should show a little charity. Have my personal physician call here at once
and have him be prepared to treat someone with borderline starvation, severe
contusions, broken bones possibly, and perhaps hypothermia. I will be down to
see him shortly."

The man seemed relieved and pleased. "Very good sir. Thank you sir. He looks
like such a young child..."

Zechs cut him off. He didn't want that image in his head, of a helpless, child
Duo. He wanted luscious, ready to be taken advantage of, Gundam pilot, Duo
instead. He tried to conjure that image and hold onto it as he made his way
downstairs and found several servants standing around Duo solicitously. Duo was
seated on a chair, hair loose and soaking wet all around him, purple eyes
strained and nervous. He was only wearing shorts and a thin shirt. Someone had
draped towels over him, but he was still shivering. He did look like a child
and Zechs found himself reacting to him that way despite his best efforts not
to.

"Duo Maxwell," Zechs greeted smoothly.

"Zechs," Duo chattered back. His arms were gripping himself tightly. Those
arms were thin, the elbows knobby. Zechs saw bruises, dark and fresh, on his
wrists and upper, bare arms. Something had definitely happened again.

"It's a terrible night to be out in, especially so poorly dressed. " Zechs
said, leaving it up to Duo how much to reveal and curious to see if he would
reveal anything at all.

"I-I thought," Duo tried to stop his teeth from chattering. "Maybe, we could
talk awhile, you know, about old times. It seemed a good night for reminiscing."

Was he that desperate for a place out of the cold and wet? What had happened
with Quatre or any of the other Gundam pilots? Why didn't he go to them? It
reinforced the impression that Duo was a child, a child who couldn't think how
to take care of himself and needed others to take care of him. Zechs reminded
himself sharply that Duo was a child of L2. He had cut his teeth on thievery
and survival. If he was acting the innocent, hoping for pity, it was deliberate
and calculated. Zechs hardened his heart and chuckled to himself as he began to
play the game again, his need for a diversion satisfied, at least for the night.

"I'm too tired for conversation," Zechs replied. "Why don't you stay in one of
the guest rooms and we'll meet for breakfast when we're both rested?"

Duo considered, a deliberate, face saving pause. Zechs wasn't fooled. Duo's
entire body had reacted with relief at Zechs words. He was desperate. Zechs
could see that clearly. "I suppose I could do that," Duo said with a shaky
smile. "I'm kind of tired too. Thanks for the hospitality, Zechs."

"Think nothing of it," Zechs replied and then gave orders to his staff. They
hustled Duo up the stairs to a guest room, clucking and trying to get him to
agree to dinner, robes, slippers, and a hot bath. Duo walked slow, not able to
hide a limp, and Zechs could tell that he was at the end of his strength,
still, he paused and considered each offer from the servants as if he might
refuse. He didn't, though, not to any of it.

Zechs waited for the doctor. When the man arrived, he gave him a terse
explanation without revealing his patient's name. The doctor nodded gravely as
they walked to Duo's room, saying, "Abuse? That's a nasty business. Repeated?
I'll leave you the number of a good psychologist. The boy will need help. It is
often hard for an abused individual to stop the urge to return and try to make
things better. They often end up blaming themselves for the abuse and they
believe that trying harder to be a better person, or to do what their abuser
wants, will stop the cycle. He will need counseling to understand that this
isn't so."

They knocked and entered Duo's room. The servants were still in the room and
in a panic. Zechs breasted through them with the doctor and saw why they were
so upset. Duo had collapsed onto the bed, unconscious, pale, and breathing
raggedly.

"Damn!" the doctor exclaimed and began opening up the large case he had
carried up with him. He jerked Duo's clothes off of him and examined him
quickly and thou roughly, keeping his body between Duo and Zechs and the
servants. "Exposure, malnutrition, contusions, slight concussion, hair line
fractures, dehydration... this boy needs a hospital, sir."

Zechs shook his head. Duo wasn't going to escape him again. "You were told to
bring all necessary supplies with you. Whatever you require, I will have
someone acquire. This is a private matter."

The doctor gaped. "But..."

"Your credentials are impeccable," Zechs snapped, using his best military
voice. "You are quite capable of treating him."

"Yes, but..," the doctor sighed, well used to aristocratic quirks. He as
already making assumptions about the long haired boy and his relationship with
Zechs. He could understand Zechs not wanting any scandal. "As you wish, sir. If
you would clear the room, I will set up my equipment and begin treatment."

Zechs leaned a little to look past the doctor. He drank in the sight of Duo's
slim body. Despite being thin and damaged, he was absolutely lovely. Wiry, yet
smooth and well defined, a dusting of hair here and there, but still boyishly
free of it. He was a man where manhood counted most, Zechs noticed, and felt a
stirring in his own manhood when he saw that. Yes, Duo was worth the trouble,
he thought, and more. He nodded to the doctor as he turned to leave, half an
acknowledgement and half a threat to do his very best with Duo. Once Duo was
well again, Zechs thought with an anticipatory air, the scales of debt would be
tipped so heavily In Zechs favor, that claiming him completely wasn't going to
be any trouble at all. The field was his, Zechs thought, and so too the prize.

***TBC***

Duo: That's it?! You're gonna stop there! You meanie!

Kracken: *sniffle* I'm sick again. I need to rest.

Duo: Awww! Poor Kracken (signs@screaminet.com)! I'll make tea, wrap you
warmly, rub your feet, prop
your dead body up! Whatever I have to do to get you to finish!!!!

Kracken: Sorry, no can do. Doctor's orders. Must rest. *sniffle* *cough*.

Duo:Then I'll write it!

Kracken: *grumble* Go ahead, it's not as easy as you think.

Duo: (typing) See Duo. See Duo beat the crap out of Heero. See Heero cry
uncle. Run, Heero, run.... hm, I guess it isn't so easy.

Kracken: Patience. I'll get it done and I'll make sure it's done right and
good. Now, about that foot rub?

==========================================

#4 - Devil May Care

"I still recommend a hospital," the doctor said as he packed up his bag and
began to leave. "But, since you still refuse that advice, I've started an I.V.
to rehydrate him and I've added antibiotics. I don't see any drug scars on the
boy. His urinalysis came up negative for enhancers, but it seems he was taking
antidepressants not too long ago at very high levels. The physical abuse is bad
enough, but, luckily, there wasn't any sign of anal tears, indicating rape, or
internal bleeding. His ribs are still healing fine and a leg injury is only
minor. He is beginning to have a fever and he does show signs of borderline
starvation and acute stress. Those factors could push him over the edge into
critical, so it is very important that he be monitored constantly." He eyed
Zechs accusingly. "I still don't see why a cot can't be brought into this room
to allow me to stay with him and make sure his vitals stay stable."

Zechs felt respect for the doctor's commitment to his patient, but he needed
time alone with Duo and he didn't want the man used to being underfoot at all
times. It was better that he be regulated to a room adjacent to Duo's . On
call, but not an annoyance to Zechs plans.

"He's a trained Gundam pilot," Zechs finally admitted, knowing what would
convince the man the easiest. "He was trained from a very early age to kill
people, Doctor. I wouldn't want him to accidentally mistake you for an enemy.
Unconscious, he is harmless, but he may begin to wake soon. I insist on being
in the room when you treat him from now on. It is the safest arrangement. Only
a trained soldier can hope to combat another trained soldier."

The doctor looked at the pale boy under the heavy covers of the bed, tubes
running up to bags on metal hangers and tangled hair splayed all around him. He
looked harmless, a child, but there was something about his hands, the doctor
thought, small, long fingered, but hard and nicked with white scars. They were
corded and worn, like the hands of someone twice his age. Those hands had
piloted a Gundam and had killed men in the war. Resting and relaxed, they still
looked deadly. The doctor swallowed hard and nodded.

"It may be inconvenient for you, sir," he replied. "I may have to visit him
many times tonight, but, if you still insist... I will be grateful for your
assistance."

Zechs nodded quietly and closed the door behind the doctor as he left. Locking
it, he turned back to Duo and approached the bed with slow, measured steps. He
could take his time now. All distractions and barriers were gone. Duo was his.

Even worn to the bone, the boy had a luminescent beauty, Zechs thought as he
reached the bedside and simply looked down into Duo's face. The boy opened his
mouth a little and Zech's saw surprisingly white, even teeth, and a delicate,
moist, pink tongue. It made his crotch tighten, imagining that mouth doing
wonders on his manhood.

"Mine," Zechs whispered and rubbed at the front of his pants. "Mine, now,
however I want you. You owe me."

Zechs took hold of the blankets and slid them down Duo's body, revealing
slowly and sensually, his other, beautiful attributes. Even the tubes in his
arms, the bruises, the cuts and scrapes, didn't detract from Duo's perfect
form. He was built like a dancer, all corded muscle wrapped in silky skin.
Zechs could imagine him writhing underneath him in fierce passion, clawing and
biting, being hot and vibrant, not like the venal, insipid creature he had
bedded much earlier that night. No, Duo was fire, not milk and thin blood. He
didn't look like the type to lay quietly and take whatever someone gave him. He
would give as much as he was given, and then some.

Caught up in the fantasy, and beginning to loosen his belt in preparation for
the conquest, Zechs didn't notice the change in Duo at first. It wasn't until
he was caressing his own manhood, standing tall and eager, and reaching a hand
to Duo's smooth belly, that he felt the shivering and the blistering heat of
Duo's skin. The boy groaned at the touch and his skin flinched like a skittish
colt.

"Heero!" Duo sobbed.

Zechs straightened as if he had been struck. He stared, wide eyed, as Duo half
opened his eyes in delirium and then began to struggle. "No, Heero! Don't!
Please don't do that! I'll do anything else, just don't rape me! Don't! God,
Heero! Stop! Please Stop!" He was sobbing wildly now and beginning to pull at
the tubes in his arms, panicking.

Zechs yanked up his pants and leaned over to restrain Duo. The boy went wild
then, eyes flying open wide, but blind, caught in a nightmare or a memory. A
tube came loose with a spray of blood that splattered Zechs in the face. He
flinched, but held on. There was a pounding on the door. The doctor's voice
demanded entrance. He had heard the cries from his room next door.

This had to stop, now, Zechs thought, and backhanded Duo hard. The sound was
loud even over Duo's cries. Duo's head snapped sharply to one side and then it
was rolling back, eyes aware now and narrowed with fury. 

"Get off me!" Duo snarled in a weak, hoarse voice. "Where the Hell am I and
what the fuck are you trying to do to me?"

"You are at my home," Zechs snarled back, "and I am attempting to save your
life. You are very ill. If you will calm down, I will let the physician in to
take care of you!"

Duo was shaking and distrustful. It took a long moment of staring into Zechs'
blood splattered face, and trying to think with his fevered mind, before he
stopped his struggles and lay limply. Zechs didn't trust that. He released Duo
and backed up sharply, putting space between himself and a young man trained to
kill with his body.

Duo suddenly smiled, a manic grin below glittering, fevered eyes. "Yeah," he
said. "Let the doctor in and then explain to me why you're in here and he's out
there behind a locked door. The explanation better be a good one too, or I'll
show you what I can do even when I'm shitfaced sick."

Zechs gave him a hard look as he walked towards the door. "Like you showed
Heero Yuy? Is that why you ended up on my doorstep wearing practically nothing
and freezing to death?"

Duo bristled even though he was turning very pale and his eyes were becoming
glassy. "I -I had stuff... I was robbed... and yeah, I kicked Heero's ass, but
that's my business, not yours!"

Zechs stopped, ignoring the pounding on the door. He narrowed his eyes at Duo
and Duo went quiet and nervous. "Do you think you're OWED my help?"

Duo didn't reply, but his hands were knotting in his blankets.

Zechs answered his own question with measured intensity. "I will ask for
repayment, Duo Maxwell, even if it may be only an acknowledgement of my
generosity on your part... a thank you, perhaps, and dare I ask it, some trust?"

Duo closed his eyes and tossed his head, fighting the fevered delirium.
"Trust?" he croaked, "I'm through trusting people. I knew better than to do
that on L2. I shouldn't have forgotten the lessons I learned growing up there.
People there either wanted something from you or they wanted to do you. Seems
the Earth... isn't... any... different." His last words trailed off and he was
suddenly unconscious, muscles going limp. He looked like an abused and weary
child.

Zechs felt something... respect, maybe, that such spirit and will could make
such a thin and beaten body so powerful and alive when Duo was awake. Guilt
nibbled at the corners of Zech's mind, followed by doubt. He tried to ignore
those feelings, opening the door and turning his thoughts to the alarmed and
red faced doctor.

"Sir?!" The man exclaimed as he looked wildly about. "What happened? I heard
shouts! The door was locked! I was about to call the staff to help me break it
down. Why didn't you answer my calls, sir?"

Zechs pushed his long hair out of his face in a weary fashion. "Maxwell became
delirious. I had to hold him down to keep him from hurting himself. Forgive me
for locking the door. It's on old soldier's habit. I had intended to stay and
keep watch on Maxwell myself, to allow you to rest. I never imagined that he
would take such a quick turn for the worse."

They both approached the bed. The doctor examined Duo anxiously and then
looked very concerned. "Fever," he said. "We were too late administering the
antibiotics."

"You can treat him?" Zechs asked.

"Yes," the doctor replied. "It's a complication I was preparing for."

"Excellent," Zechs approved and then frowned as he added, "Maxwell said some
shocking things while he was struggling."

The doctor was reattaching the I.V. lines and taping them in place. He only
glanced at Zechs briefly, intent on his work. "If he was delirious, you
shouldn't put too much trust in the validity of anything he said, sir."

"Still," Zechs replied. "I think you should check him for signs of rape again."

The doctor raised eyebrows as he began wiping away the blood with alcohol
swabs. "Is that what he spoke about? Rape?"

"Yes."

The doctor nodded and began taking out specimen collectors. "I'll do a DNA
scan then and look for intestinal damage. I didn't see any blood in my first
exam, but there wouldn't be if the perpetrator was careful."

Zechs jaw tightened. "Make certain you sedate Maxwell heavily before you
start. We wouldn't want him waking up during that kind of re examination and
breaking your neck, Doctor."

The doctor went pale, stammering, "Y-Yes, sir, I mean, no, sir, I certainly
wouldn't."

Zechs turned away as the doctor lowered the blankets on Duo and injected him
with a strong sedative. He didn't watch the exam or the sample gathering. He
waited until the doctor had finished, tucking Duo back into bed comfortably,
and then appearing at Zechs' elbow.

"I didn't see any intestinal damage or blood," the doctor reported quietly.
"I'll send my samples to the lab in the morning and have them screened for
semen DNA. If the young man was raped, we'll know by whom by early afternoon."

Zechs nodded and went through the motions of thanking the doctor and
convincing the man to leave once again. "You need your rest," Zechs insisted.
"I've done field surgery. I know something about caring for sick men. I think
you sedated Maxwell so well, he probably won't be waking up until your lab
results arrive tomorrow, anyway."

"Yes, sir," the doctor agreed as Zechs began to close the door on him.
"Please, leave the door unlocked this time, sir?"

"Of course," Zechs agreed. He closed the door and listened until he heard the
man return to his own room. Then, Zechs locked the door despite promise not to.
No more interruptions, Zechs thought as he returned to Duo's bed.

The boy was very pale now, the sweat of fever on his brow. Zechs felt that
smooth skin and felt the heat. Brushing the damp bangs out of Duo's eyes, Zechs
couldn't stop the sick images from entering his mind of Heero Yuy, pinning that
young man down and doing his worst, wringing shrieks out of Duo, a proud,
strong ex Gundam pilot. Duo had escaped, unviolated hopefully, yet certainly
not without some revenge on Heero Yuy. Duo had left almost everything behind,
been robbed of what little he had managed to take with him, and then had made
his way through cold and rain to Zechs doorway. Zechs remembered his pride, his
strength, and his calculated manipulation of Zechs and his staff to secure
himself a place out of the weather. 

Zechs dropped his hand and took a step back. An L2 criminal, a nobody, a
shallow, irresponsible, waste of space. Zechs had justified his own actions
with those images of Duo. What did it matter to street trash if a prince
decided to pick him up out of the gutter and show him some favor? A person like
that should be grateful, eager to ... 

Zechs turned away from the bed. He felt the darkness gathering at the edges of
sight, threatening him, holding up a putrid picture of himself, no better than
Heero Yuy; a rapist. Madness, Zechs thought as he unlocked the door and left
the room. He was mad to have considered crushing the bright flame of Duo
Maxwell under his lust and need to keep away the depression. The mental image
that depression gleefully showed Zechs couldn't be avoided no matter which way
he turned. He could clearly see the monster in him, slowly taking over, a
monster who had thought nothing of using men as diversions. Had he really
considered raping Duo for a diversion?

Zechs groaned and clawed at his handsome face, scratching his skin and
mingling his blood with the blood of Duo still there. Giving orders to the
alarmed staff to give Duo all he wanted and to allow the doctor access to
whatever he needed, Zechs packed a bag and left his home, searching for a place
to buy strong drink and a hotel room to drown himself in. 

***

"He was here. He left," Heero said as he typed up a report. The vid phone was
to his right, Quatre's worried face a blur on the edge of Heero's sight.

"Again?" Quatre sighed. "Was he taking his medication or seeing another doctor?"

"He didn't confide in me any information," Heero replied. "Medication? Explain?"

"Uhm, well, I guess I can discuss it with you, you are his best friend,"
Quatre said nervously.

"Hn," Heero grunted.

"He was having a problem with depression," Quatre explained. "I told him I
wouldn't help him unless he sought professional help. His medication was for
the depression."

"Hn," Heero stopped typing and brought up a profile of Duo Maxwell. He began
adding the new information to it.

"I'm worried about him, Heero. The doctor said that he was sounding suicidal."

"He was not suicidal when he arrived here," Heero told him and saw some relief
on Quatre's face. "But we had a disagreement and I am not certain of his state
of mind at this time." Quatre tensed again.

"What did you argue about?" Quatre wondered and then tried to answer his own
question. "I suppose he lost another job?"

"No," Heero replied. "I wished to set up a new arrangement between us and he
strongly resisted. His reaction puzzled me until you informed me of his mental
state."

"What arrangement?" Quatre asked.

Heero paused, not out of guilt or embarrassment, but out of an ingrained
reluctance to let anyone know so much about him. He still considered it a
compromise of his safety and position. Enemies as well as friends could make
use of such information and Heero knew that he had many enemies from the war.

Quatre filled the silence suddenly with an apology. "Uh, that's okay, Heero. I
know you've been under a lot of stress. I can imagine that even a simple
request for Duo to do the dishes would have seemed intolerable to him."

"Hn," Heero replied as he began typing more information into Duo's file.

"You're a good friend to Duo, Heero," Quatre finished by saying. "He's lucky
he has you to take care of him, at least when he lets you. If you see him
again..."

"My arrangement to him is still available," Heero replied. "He may live here
again if he chooses."

Quatre nodded and smiled in relief. "That's good, Heero. I hope he comes to
his senses... well, he always does in the end, doesn't he? At least for a
little while. Take care Heero and tell Duo my offer of treatment still stands
as well."

"Acknowledged," Heero replied. "Goodbye, Quatre. I have reports to finish."

"Of course," Quatre said with a small chuckle. "I will wish that your
dedication to your work , and your complete integration into civilian society,
graces Duo someday as well. Goodbye, Heero."

The vid screen went blank and Heero closed it. He glared at Duo's profile.
Where was the braided baka? The apartment was as chill as ice and empty without
him. Heero was finding it hard to function efficiently. His nights were
becoming sleepless, listening to the silence and feeling that emptiness
creeping up on him to swallow his control whole.

Heero stood and gave the apartment a severe look. He didn't understand why the
loss of Duo bothered him so much. He had spent his life alone, unloved,
untouched, his inner being wrapped up in training and missions. His fingers
closed as if longing to feel those hard muscles and silky flesh underneath him
again.

Pinning Duo to the couch, feeling him struggle and call his name... it had
validated Heero's existence somehow in a way the women in his life never had.
Duo SAW him, reacted to him, and maybe feared him, but it was better than the
inane chatter of females who only wanted him for his position and the men
sycophants who sought out his company for the same. Only Duo looked at him and
saw Heero Yuy for who he was, flesh and blood and sometimes friend. He had the
magic to make the perfect soldier feel alive. Heero had to have that back. Duo
had to be found.

Heero sat at his computer, hooked up to the Internet, and began to search and
hack through files, a shark slicing through the waters of technology and
bypassing civilians bathing in it's power, unaware of their danger. He
patrolled for a drop of scent, a drop of blood in an ocean, Duo's blood, Duo's
scent. It as there, somewhere....

***

"Nothing keeps me down for long," Duo told the doctor as he put on his boots.
"I've always healed fast, but I think the doctor who trained me modified me in
some way to heal even faster."

The Doctor watched Duo, who had been borderline critical two nights ago, stand
and stretch and look, except for a slight wince in acknowledgement of some
unhealed wounds, as if he had never been ill. He had lazed in bed, read
newspapers and magazines, eaten an incredible amount of food, and talked non
stop to anyone who would listen. The doctor had found the ex Gundam pilot to be
funny and very pleasant, not at all put out by his confinement or illness.

"Still, you should rest and avoid a relapse," the Doctor told him. "Milliardo
Peacecraft has given orders that you are his guest and to be treated
accordingly."

Duo frowned as he flipped his long, thick braid over his shoulder. He ran a
hand down the black pants he wore and touched the lapel of his long, black
coat. It had a very thick, black fur lining and warm gloves in a pocket. All
gifts from Zechs. It left a sour taste in Duo's mouth. He had a hazy memory of
waking up in a panic, Zechs leaning over him, and someone... the doctor trying
to get into the locked room. The doctor had been confused on the details,
unable to explain. Duo, still raw from Heero's abuse, felt an unhealthy
paranoia concerning the white haired aristocrat. It was better to deal with the
situation and maybe get an explanation from the safety of his own place, or the
place he intended to have if he still had his job at the tile factory.

"I think I've imposed long enough," Duo replied at last. He grinned at the
doctor and the doctor found it infectious. "Thanks for taking such good care of
me, Doc. You sort of revived my faith in the medical profession."

The doctor clapped Duo on the back good naturedly, "I'm glad to hear it. If
you need my services, please call." He paused and then added seriously. "If you
need more antidepressants, I can fill a prescription for you."

Duo's smile faltered, but then it gained strength as he realized that the
doctor had found out, somehow, and was asking only out of concern. "Ah, no
thanks, Doc," Duo replied as he went out the door. "They didn't help me much.
See ya around!"

Duo made his way downstairs, whistling a happy tune and ignoring the aches,
the pains, and the fatigue from fighting his brief illness. A servant
approached at once. "Mr. Maxwell," the servant greeted him.

Duo grinned. "Henry! What's up?"

The man smiled, but he looked disappointed as well. "I take it that you are
leaving us, sir?"

Duo nodded. "Time to leave the lap of luxury and stop sponging off of old
Zechs."

Henry chuckled. "It was a pleasure hosting you, sir. I'm certain, Prince
Milliardo would not mind in the slightest if you were to remain a while longer."

Duo grimaced and scratched his head as he said apologetically. "Yeah, well, I
wanna take advantage of that, but... something happened that made me realize
how important independence is. I need to get some of that." Henry looked
worried so Duo disarmed him with another smile. "Never mind, Henry. I just need
to thank Milliardo and then I'll be on my way. Where can I find him?"

Henry looked uncomfortable. "Well, sir, it isn't really my place to say. He
didn't give orders to that effect. I will say that he isn't in residence at the
moment, hasn't been actually, since the night you took so ill."

Duo blinked, surprised. Again he remembered Zechs' face above him, looking at
him with intensity. Disturbed and not certain what to think, Duo asked again,
"Come on, Henry! Me and Zechs go way back!" The man quirked an eyebrow at the
lithe youth in front of him, speaking as if he were a grizzled war veteran
instead of someone barely legal enough to drink. "He'll want to know where I'm
going. He'll want to talk to me. I have to thank him. You can understand that,
can't you?"

Henry thought it over and then he nodded. "He did say that you were to be
given anything you asked for."

"Then I'm asking," Duo laughed.

***

Zechs finished the last bottle of whiskey and tossed it aside. It thumped and
rolled on the lush white carpet of the hotel room, leaving spots in its wake.
This was his third day of being drunk and still he couldn't avoid self
knowledge. It ate at him like acid, carving wounds in his mind that he didn't
think would ever heal.

The depression covered him like a dark cloak or a dear friend; a false friend,
a friend who wanted his destruction. No more distractions, Zechs thought, and
the drink was powerless against it this time. The depression was consuming him.
What would happen when it consumed him utterly? Zechs was too much of a coward
to find out.

Meticulously cleaned gun, metallic with silver fittings. A wealthy man's toy.
A soldier's lifesaver. This time, Zechs thought bitterly as he took it from its
shoulder holster hanging over a chair back, it was going to be his executioner.
It was time he stopped avoiding his punishment.

Zechs strode to the center of the room. He stood dramatically at attention and
raised to gun to his temple. "Milliardo Peacecraft, for your crimes against
Earth and Outer Space, I do hereby sentence you to d-"

"Could you hold up the execution for a moment, Zechs?"

Zechs flinched and turned. Duo Maxwell was standing inside his bedroom,
watching him with serious, amethyst eyes and a strained smile on his lips.
Zechs blinked, thinking it was some sort of alcohol hallucination, but the slim
figure of the ex Gundam pilot came closer and seemed very solid.

"What-?" Zechs didn't lower the gun. "How did you get in here? I locked the
door."

Duo flicked open his hand for a moment. In it were lock picks. He pocketed
them and then cocked his head curiously at Zechs, "I don't want to get blood
all over me and brain bits. Do you mind waiting until I say what I came to say?
I'll say it quick and then leave you to uh, your weird kind of fun, I guess."

Zechs lowered the gun, staring, not able to comprehend that Duo was standing
in his bedroom having a nonchalant conversation with him, as if what Zechs had
been about to do was perfectly normal and acceptable.

"Ah, good," Duo said and grinned engagingly. "I ah, just came to say thanks
for the hospitality. Everyone was great to me."

"You are most welcome," Zechs replied numbly, automatically polite. "Feel free
to call again. The doors of the Peacecraft home are always open to you."

Duo shook his head with a frown. "Well, they won't be after you, uh, execute
yourself."

Zechs blinked and then sluggishly thought that over. "I suppose you are right.
I am sorry."

Duo chuckled. "You are, aren't you? You're such a polite man, Zechs. You're
even politely executing yourself, not bothering anyone, except maybe the maid
who has to clean it all up."

"There are certain responsibilities that one must take on oneself," Zechs
replied. "Now, If you'll excuse me, I really must attend to business. I thank
you for your courtesy in acknowledging my hospitality."

"Well," Duo replied, scratching his head thoughtfully. "I remember you said
something about being grateful and how it wasn't owed to me. It made me think.
Maybe I've been expecting help from too many people for too long. I'm going to
try to make it on my own for awhile."

Zechs stared at the beautiful face, confident eyes, and determined mouth of
Duo Maxwell. He felt longing and regret. If things had been different, if he
had taken the time to befriend Duo, if he had not fallen under the dark hands
of depression, If he had not tried to take from Duo... as if it were owed him,
something might have developed. He could feel a definite attraction to the
young man and it wasn't all lust.

"Well," Duo said as he turned for the door. "Thanks again.... oh, ya know, if
you're executing yourself because you tried to blow up everyone on the Earth, I
personally would rather you stayed alive and suffered guilt for the rest of
your life. A bullet to the head is too quick. Just a thought."

Zechs felt a chill of shock at Duo's calm, matter of fact words. It brought
home, brutally, the realization of who he was talking to, a young man who had
seen more death, more atrocities, and more battle than Zechs had seen in his
entire career. That he continued to grin and contemplate growing up and
becoming independent despite it... Zechs felt suddenly very weak and cowardly.
He had been going to take the easy way out and it had taken Duo to point it out
to him.

"Where will you go?" Zechs wondered in a small, ashamed voice.

Duo shrugged, pausing at the doorway and rolling eyes in thought. "I don't
know. I don't have anything... maybe," he hesitated and Zechs heard a definite
edge of apprehension to his voice. "Maybe I can have Heero send me my stuff.
Probably not though. He was... well, he'll still be pretty mad, though we've
punched each other's lights out before. I guess I'm broke until my next
paycheck. I'll have to use my charm to get some landlord to rent to me on
I.O.U.s."

"What job do you have?"

Duo looked wary and then shrugged. "Tile making."

"Do you enjoy it?"

Duo scowled. "Of course not! I'm a pilot!"

Zechs licked dry lips and then said, hopefully, "I have many positions on my
staff. I'm certain I can find you some piloting work. I have eight transport
vehicles, two jets, and a shuttle. You won't be coddled, of course, you will
have to show skill and dedication and you will be under the complete direction
of the heads of those areas. Room and board comes with all positions on my
staff."

Duo looked wary. He had his pride and he didn't trust a man who's motives were
a mystery to him. It was plain that he was about to refuse, despite a glitter
of eagerness in his eyes at the opportunity to pilot again.

Zechs caressed his gun and then reholstered it. "You're wondering why. We have
distinct problems because of who we are. No one cares. No one wants to help. No
one wants to be bothered by ex soldiers who can't forget the spilled blood and
who don't know any other way than war. They have their peace. They don't want
to be reminded of how much it cost. We have to help each other, because they
won't help us. Let me make a place for you that you can accept and function in.
I can't bring you peace or make you forget your devils and nightmares. I have
too many of them myself, but I can make life a little better for you. After the
sacrifices you made for Earth and the colonies, you are OWED that much."

"Stay of execution then?" Duo wondered with narrowed eyes, still considering.
"None of that is going to happen unless you're around to give the orders."

"Stay of execution," Zechs agreed and found a sickly smile. "Agreed, then?"

Duo broke into a grin. "Agreed."

==========================================

#5 - Ties That Choke

Yates, Duo's new boss, looked the ex Gundam pilot up and down angrily. To him,
it was obvious how Duo had landed such a choice job. Everyone knew that Zechs
had an eye for a pretty ass, man or woman. Well, Yates thought, he'd show this
little piece that he didn't stand for that crap when men's lives were at stake.

"You have five minutes to run through the simulated crash landing," the big,
hairy man growled as he thumped his clipboard against his leg. His army
sergeant expression and crew cut were calculated to intimidate.

Duo was astonished. "Five minutes? Do you want anyone to survive?"

The man chewed hard on an unlit cigar, moving it from one side of his mouth to
the other before barking. "What kind of question is that?!"

Duo shrugged as he opened the simulator door. "You've heard of acceptable
casualties, haven't you?"

Yates closed a hand around Duo's braid, bringing him up short. "In this
outfit, there are no acceptable casualties, got that?"

Duo looked down at the man's hand, hairy fist closed on one of the most
important things he owned, his hair. "Let go or I'll-"

"Are you threatening me?" Yates snarled.

Duo glared. He was much shorter and definitely much slighter than his boss,
but there was an air about Duo, a steely determination and a glint in his eye
that spoke of Shinigami; the killer. Yates found himself letting go and
stepping back. He raised the clipboard as if he thought that he could defend
himself with it.

"No casualties," Yates ordered. "One try. No second chances."

The man fully expected Duo to whine and to bring up Zech's name in his
defense. Duo only shrugged again and stepped into the simulator.

Duo was now in a shuttle mock up coming in for a landing. He settled into a
chair meant for a much bigger man. Looking like a child, he strapped himself
in, as if it were a real flight, knowing that the simulator would give him just
as much turbulence as one. He checked his instrument locations and then,
without even mentally preparing, he hit the switch that started the scenario.

Jettison fuel so that the shuttle doesn't become a bomb, Duo thought quickly.
Detach wings so that they don't catch and tear up the shuttle on the ground.
Drop engines so that the shuttle will glide better. Deploy stabilizer stub
wings for stability. Belly down beside the hard runway into softer dirt.
Elapsed time; four minutes, fifty nine seconds.

Duo climbed out of the simulator and met the purple face of his boss. The man
was stabbing a finger at the monitor. "Three hundred dead on the ground!" He
shouted at the top of his voice, startling the other workers in the hanger.
"You dropped your engines on an apartment complex, your wings into the
terminal, and dumped your fuel on a city street where it caught fire! What
possible justification can you give me for murdering those people?"

Duo narrowed his amethyst eyes. "You told me, 'No acceptable casualties'. I
assumed you meant in the shuttle. Run any simulation you like, you won't find
another solution that will allow your passengers to survive. I was just the
pilot," he added coldly. "You gave the orders. You told me five minutes. You
murdered those people on the ground, not me."

"You are insane!" Yates exploded.

Duo laughed. Yates was dumbfounded, not having expected that reaction at all.
"You're forgetting who you're talking to," Duo replied mockingly.

Yates threw his clipboard hard at Duo. The edge of it caught Duo in his still
healing ribs. Duo winced, but he refused to show any other indication that he
was hurt.

"You're grounded!" Yates snarled as he spun and strode angrily away, throwing
over his shoulder, "Get used to the grease pits. That's the only place where
you'll be working!"

"So much for second chances," Duo seethed at the retreating man's back and
then carefully sat on the cement hanger floor. Hugging his ribs with both arms,
Duo rode wave after wave of pain.

"Not a good first day, Maxwell?" a voice said nearby.

Duo looked up and saw the familiar face of Chang Wu Fei. Duo grimaced. "It's
just gotten worse," he replied. "What are you doing here? Last I heard, you had
a cushy job with Relena Peacecraft managing her security details."

"That hasn't changed." Wu Fei gave Duo an arrogant, assessing, once over.
"Looks like you haven't changed either. You're still a waste."

"Still such a 'people person', aren't you Wufei?" Duo retorted with a grin,
teeth gritted in pain and anger.

"Have some pride," Wu Fei growled, looking quickly about them as if he was
afraid that Duo's behavior would make him look bad. "Get off of the damned
floor and face me like a man when you insult me!"

Duo slowly rose to his feet, arms still wrapped around his middle, his
plastered on smile never faltering. "I have stuff to do, Wufei," he replied
tightly. "Unless you want to have a few drinks and talk about old times-"

Wu Fei snorted derisively, "With you? The worst Gundam pilot? The fool who
soiled our reputation? We are heroes, Maxwell. Our part in the war is honored.
You make a mockery of that; the pilot who works menial jobs, the pilot who
insulted heads of state at our awards ceremony, the pilot who was so weak he
was forced to seek mental help-"

Duo went white, shocked to his core. "Who told you that? Who told you I was
seeing a doctor?"

Wu Fei sneered. "It was in the news, Maxwell. Did you really think that bit of
information wouldn't be picked up by the people who wish to discredit the war
and all those who took part in it?"

"Relena, you mean?" Duo snapped back, feeling a hot, molten flush of anger
seethe through every vein.

"Mustn't glorify war," Wu Fei said without replying to that charge. " Mustn't
have war heroes. You gave them perfect ammunition."

Duo felt a pit open up inside of himself and he felt ready to fall in.
Everyone knew that he had seen a psychologist? Everyone was talking about it,
laughing at him, maybe? Duo blamed the doctor. He knew that Quatre would never
betray his trust, gentle kindness and morals aside, Quatre knew better than to
piss off another Gundam pilot, another killer.

"You look awful, Maxwell, "Wu Fei said, breaking into his thoughts. The dark
haired, young man slitted black eyes at Duo. "You look at the end of your rope.
Why don't you do everyone a favor and hang yourself with it?"

He turned abruptly and walked away, returning to the business he had been
attending to before he had met up with Duo. Duo glared after him and then
slowly limped out of the hanger. Going to the dorm of one room apartments where
the crew lived, where he was now living at the moment, he began to wonder what
Heero was doing.

***

Zechs stared at the clipboard and then glared at the big man before him.
"Yates, I want everyone to assemble here at the simulator, now."

Yates chewed nervously on his cigar. "Yes, sir," he replied and then began
shouting for his men. As they began to come from all areas of the hanger to
gather around him and Zechs, he angrily began to wonder what exactly the long
haired whore had said to Zechs. 

Zechs faced the crowd. "Yates has kindly volunteered to show you his new
simulation and his skill at piloting it."

"Sir?" Yates started. "If this is about that Gundam pilot, I assure you,
anything he said-"

Zechs eyes became like cold, blue, ice chips. Yates closed his mouth. "I
haven't spoken with him," Zechs informed him. "I came to see your evaluations
of All new recruits." He glanced briefly at the clipboard. "I can see that you
used the standard simulation for all of the new recruits, except for Maxwell.
If you've instituted a new simulation, I want to assure myself that it is up to
my standards. A demonstration is in order, I'm sure you agree?"

"Yes, sir," was all that Yates could say.

"Very good then." Zechs smiled and it wasn't a pleasant smile. It was as sharp
as glass. "You have five minutes, Yates."

"Sir?!"

Zechs frowned, playing confusion. "Isn't that the time you gave Maxwell?"

"Yes, sir, but-"

"Five minutes, Yates."

Yates' shoulders slumped. He pocketed his cigar and climbed into the
simulator, knowing exactly what was going to happen and preparing himself for
humiliation.

Six minutes later, Yates climbed out and faced the crowd. They were shocked,
having watched him completely destroy the shuttle and everyone on board on a
monitor. Yates said nothing, knowing his sentence before Zechs spoke, and
wincing when he realized that Zechs was going to make it even more humiliating
for him.

As if he were giving a lecture to a classroom, Zechs asked, "Who can tell me
who was at fault in this crash?"

Calls of 'Yates' peppered the crowd. Zechs waited, ignoring them. Finally, a
middle aged mechanic said as he wiped grease off of his hands, "The mechanic
who should have checked the engines before take off."

Zechs raised eyebrows. "Partly," he said.

"You sir," Another, younger voice said at his elbow.

Zechs looked at a tall, well built man in his late twenties. He had a shock of
white blonde hair and dark green eyes. His uniform was a pilots. Zechs didn't
make it easy for him. "My fault?"

"You gave the order for a five minute landing." The man replied without
hesitation. "That Gundam pilot said the same thing to Yates. It's the truth.
It's your fault that the shuttle crashed."

Zechs watched the young man's eyes. They didn't waver. Zechs nodded finally.
"Excellent, but what possible landing could have saved both shuttle,
passengers, and civilians on the ground, even if more time had been allotted?"

Another young man looked at the screen and the mock up scenery. He pointed to
a farmer's field that was longer than the runway. "There sir. It could have
landed there without any trouble. Plowed dirt is softer than hard packed runway
dirt. Engine, wings, and fuel could have been jettisoned safely without ground
casualties."

Zechs nodded, almost agreeing, but he waited for the blonde to speak. He could
sense him itching for his turn. He broke in hard on the heels of the last man.
"Space, sir," he said to Zechs. He motioned to the monitor. "Thrusters are
still online. The shuttle could have been piloted into space to await rescue.
Need for a crash would have been eliminated."

Zechs found a genuine smile. "Excellent. What's your name, pilot?"

"Riley, sir, Peter Riley."

"Peter Riley," Zechs repeated. "You are now in charge here. Yates," he didn't
look at the man, "You are dismissed. Collect your belongings and leave. I don't
tolerate a man who uses his position to carry out personal vendettas." He
looked around at the others. "Thank you gentlemen, ladies. You are dismissed." 

The crowd broke up, talking excitedly. Yates walked away in a daze.

Zechs cued up Duo's simulation on the monitor and motioned Riley to watch it
with him. The scene was brutal, wild, and ... Zechs sighed as he turned to
Riley. "Evaluation?" he demanded. It was another test. The man surely knew Duo
had been there on his, Zech's recommendation. Would he give an honest opinion?

Riley swallowed, but he stepped up to the plate and told the truth. "His
piloting skills are phenomenal, sir. In a battle, I would definitely want him
fighting beside me. In a civilian situation though, he is clearly unstable,
sir. He killed three hundred people in the simulation to carry out his orders
to the letter, without question, and, I clearly saw, that he showed no remorse
or willingness to consider another alternative. He should have known, just as I
had, that taking the shuttle into space would have been the better solution.
Instead, he chose to follow orders. I recommend that he be grounded, sir."

Zechs turned off the monitor and said the only thing he could, putting safety
and other men's lives before his personal feelings; his desire to give Duo some
reason for staying and being available to him, "I agree with your
recommendation. I'll inform him myself." 

***

Duo felt chill fingers running up his spine. He lay on his back on his hard
bed and stared up at the ceiling as he talked to the vid phone. The image was
off, but that didn't comfort Duo. It seemed more disturbing somehow to hear
Heero's voice come out of the blackness.

"I know the way you think, Heero," Duo said nervously, twisting the end of his
braid around and around in his hands. "You probably thought that you were being
perfectly reasonable when you tried to-"

"I was," Heero replied, cool and sharp. "It was a logical solution to both of
our problems."

Duo frowned. "I didn't have a problem, Heero."

Heero begged to differ. "We are both males in need of constant sexual release.
The arrangement I proposed would have allowed for us to discharge that need and
continue to concentrate on our work."

Duo wanted to grab the vid screen and hurl it at the wall. He clenched his
hands on his braid and said, "That makes perfect sense to you, I can tell. The
way you were raised, maybe you can't think of it any other way. What I want to
know is, why you didn't stop... I was begging you, Heero." Duo began to shiver,
the memory of it washing over him; Heero pinning him down, his hands on his
ass, the spit, and the sure knowledge that Heero had been about to thrust
himself into him.

"I've often encountered reluctance among inexperienced sexual partners," Heero
replied. "I concluded that you were experiencing the same reluctance due to
your confusion about your sexual orientation."

Duo bristled, "Dammit, Heero! I'm not a homosexual!"

"That statement is contrary to all of my information and observation," Heero
replied. He paused and then said something that made the hairs on the back of
Duo's neck stand up. For a moment, he didn't sound like Heero Yuy. His voice
was too stiff, too contrived, uneasy with stating his next words. "If my
proposed arrangement is unacceptable, then we will return to our previous
arrangement. I will not ask for sexual relations with you again."

"No hard feelings, you mean?" Duo translated bitterly. "I can come back to the
apartment?"

"Yes."

Duo let Heero wait. He stared at the four, plain walls of his apartment, at
the very minimal kitchenette, at the table and chairs of metal, and at the
bare, cold floor. He thought of working as a mechanic, greasing parts and doing
basic maintenance. It wasn't a bad job and it paid well. There wasn't any shame
in it, despite what Wu Fei had said, yet Duo couldn't help a sting of pride,
remembering what he had been, Gundam pilot and hero. That pride wanted Duo to
throw aside job and cell like apartment, even if it meant returning to Heero.
It was a strong temptation to fall back into the old pattern and self destruct
rather than be anything less than what he had been during the war.

But, what had he been living with Heero or even Quatre? Needy, dependent, and
irresponsible to himself and everyone around him. In a hotel room a few days
before, Zechs had shown him the inevitable end of that behavior, a self
loathing so acute that he could only find one solution to cure it.

"Hey, Heero," Duo said at last.

"Hn?"

"Can you send my stuff to me? I think I'll be hanging out on my own for
awhile," Duo told him, trying to sound confident, trying not to cut his ties
all together. "Keep the door unlocked, though. I might need to come back if
things don't work out, k?"

Heero's voice replied without change of emotion, "Of course. Give me your
address."

Duo rattled it off and felt relief. Heero was sounding... odd, but not angry.
"Great! Uh, Heero?"

"Yes?"

"Sorry about, ya know, hitting you below the belt and all."

Heero paused as if he had forgotten about it and then he replied matter- of -
factly. "It was a good defense. Very effective."

"Uh, okay. Thanks Heero."

The vid phone clicked off without a goodbye from Heero. Duo lay in the silence
and suddenly thought about the things he had just said to Heero. His stomach
churned on bile. He- He had apologized for fighting Heero to keep the man from
raping him! Why- Duo sat up and put his head in his hands. His temple throbbed.
Why had he done that? He wondered. Was securing a tried and true safe place for
himself so important that he would forgive Heero anything?

Again Duo remembered Heero's weight on him, his hands, that wet spit running
down the crack of his ass, warm and threatening worse to come. Duo sprang up
from the bed, ignoring his protesting ribs and bruises. He had to get away! It
was unreasoning that impulse. What was he getting away from? It was done, over,
the perpetrator half a city away. Still, Duo went to the door of his apartment
and jerked it open, everything inside of him urging him to get away, run from
the memory of what Heero had tried to do to him.

"Asshole!" Duo cursed at himself, remembering how weak and helpless he had
been. "Worthless! Useless! Waste of Space! Wu Fei was right! Maybe I should
just find a rope!" he shouted in self loathing at himself as he rushed through
the door.

Duo ran straight into a broad chest, face burying into a long fall of white,
silky hair. He smelled a man scent, heady and rich, and a cologne scent, faint
and wonderful. It made his heart race, his face flush, and some inexplicable
part of him deep down, respond in a way he had never felt before.

Confused, Duo recoiled, stumbling a little against the door frame. He blinked
stupidly at Zechs. The man looked almost sad, regretful. Uh-oh, Duo thought,
more bad news, but it was at least news he had known was coming.

"Let me guess," Duo bit out. "I didn't make the grade."

"No," Zechs replied.

"Guess I'll be leaving then," Duo snapped and hunched in on himself, feeling
suddenly cold; depression flexing claws, readying them to pull Duo down into
its depths. Suddenly, that emotional pain turned into a purely physical one.
Duo gasped in surprise as his lungs suddenly felt full of liquid fire. He
choked and then bent over, heaving and coughing. Something came out and
splattered on the ground between himself and Zechs. It was blood.

Zechs stared down in shock and then he looked up at Duo. Blue eyes battled
amethyst ones, wills clashing, males instinctively trying to position
themselves as dominate. It seemed to last for ever, but only seconds passed
before Duo sighed and slumped. Zechs caught him under the arms. Zechs had won
the battle and now he gave his first order. "You're not going anywhere."

==========================================

#6 - Dark Divides

Pleasant numbness. Duo was happy to let himself drift in it, only slightly
aware of people moving around him, bright lights, cold instruments, pricking
needles, and a warm voice that constantly told him to lie still and allow
whatever was going to happen to happen. Something deep down inside of Duo,
where the drugs couldn't reach, bristled and whispered warnings, but that's all
they were, whispers. Duo was too far gone in a drug haze to do much more than
listen.

'I can't open my eyes', was Duo's first coherent thought in what seemed like
forever. He struggled mentally, feeling the bite of panic, memory returning in
jumps and starts.

Blood on the floor. That image sent Duo's heart racing. Adrenalin gave him
strength and allowed his eyes to open at last. He blinked. Blinked again. His
amethyst eyes were dry, stinging with it. They didn't want to clear for a
moment, but, when they eventually did, Duo found himself staring up at an
ornate ceiling, white plaster with a sunburst design of flowers painted at the
center. Duo recognized it.

"I guess I can assume that Zechs is my host again?" Duo hoarsely said to the
ceiling.

A voice replied, "Yes, sir."

Duo turned his head. His neck was stiff. It was actually painful. He grinned
at the servant sitting in a chair by the bed, a paperback novel lax in his
hands. "Pretty soon, you'll have to put up a sign on the door that says, Duo's
room."

The man looked disapproving. Duo could see thoughts running behind his eyes,
none of them flattering. "Yes, sir," he replied noncommittally and then stood,
unfolding a tall, anemic looking form, in a starched uniform, as if rigamortis
had set in. "I'll inform Prince Peacecraft that his guest has awakened. Is
there anything you require, sir, before I go?"

Duo blinked, trying to think, trying to understand the expression the man was
giving him. "Uh, I'll probably have to pee," he said and was surprised how weak
his voice was. "Other than that-"

The servant paled even more and pointed to a door not far away. "The
facilities are there sir, or, if you find the distance too daunting, there is a
urinal by the foot of the bed." His next question was said as if it were forced
from him only by a strong determination to do his duty. "If you need
assistance..."

Duo almost said that he did, just for the hell of it and to make the man
squirm, but embarrassment at what that request would entail stopped him. "I can
manage," Duo replied. "I'm a big boy." The man turned to go with definite
relief, but Duo wouldn't let him go that easily. "Hey! Before you go, I need to
know what happened! How did I get here?"

The servant sniffed and didn't pause as he walked towards the door saying,
"Prince Peacecraft will be with you shortly, sir. I have been ordered to inform
him as soon as you awakened so that he may come and answer your questions
himself."

"Oh, okay," Duo replied, waited for the door to close, and then, with a
soldier's thoroughness, he dropped his mask of congeniality and began looking
himself over to assess his condition, his ability to defend himself or escape
if necessary.

Duo's hands were shaking and he felt cold; low blood circulation. It told him
that he had been unconscious for a long time. A heavy duty I.V. needle in both
arms alerted him that he hadn't been force fed only liquid nourishment. Someone
had been drugging him. That squared with his groggy mental functions. Pushing
down the blankets, Duo discovered that he was nude underneath and that someone
had been operating with a laser on his ribs. He felt the familiar,
uncomfortable presence of a binding agent holding them together.

Blood on the floor. Duo felt at his ribs as the memory flashed and burned in
his brain. Duo hissed and withdrew his hand. His ribs flashed pain. Punctured
lung? He recalled Yate's clipboard plowing into his ribs edgewise. Shinigami
seethed and thought about modes of revenge, especially when he saw the catheter.

"Duo Maxwell," the throaty voice of Zechs said from the doorway, alerting a
fellow soldier of his presence, well aware that the end of the war hadn't
dulled either of their reflexes.

Duo dropped the blanket, face going hot as he glared at the tall, white haired
man. For some reason he didn't bother with his mask. Something told him that,
not only was Zech's not fooled by it, but that the man knew to a hair's breath
what his abilities were. The 'Lightning Count', as Zech's had been known in the
war, wasn't going to be taken by surprise.

"What's going on?" Duo demanded simply.

Zechs entered, long legs pacing toward's Duo like a panther getting ready to
spring. Graceful, Duo thought, swallowing and getting nervous, powerful, and
commanding. Duo didn't like the feeling of helplessness that rolled over him as
he waited for Zech's to explain and make his intentions known.

Zechs spoke as if he were giving a casualty report, precise information given
in a dry, calm voice. "Punctured lung. Severe blood loss. Borderline
malnutrition. Anemia. Acute stress. One operation on right lung and bio cement
applied to fifth rib on right. Down time so far, eleven days," Duo started in
shock at that bit of information, but Zech's continued without giving him time
to wrap his mind around that. "Drugs given to induce complete unconsciousness
for the express purpose of allowing a critical wound to heal properly.
Projected down time; three weeks. Present function; 20%."

Duo shivered, despite himself. He was that bad? He remembered the blood
filling up his lungs, but it had been too sudden, to shocking. He hadn't had
time to consider that he might have been dying. Duo tried to speak. He made a
hoarse noise. Zechs poured water from a pitcher into a glass from a nearby
table. He handed the glass to Duo. Duo drank automatically, disturbed when the
glass of water felt heavy and uncertain in his hand. It trembled as his hand
continued to tremble, water threatening to slosh out. Seeing Duo's difficulty,
Zechs retrieved the glass and put it back down on the side table without
comment.

"Why am I here and not in a hospital?" Duo wondered, voice under his control
once again.

"You were in a hospital," Zechs replied in that same dry, informative tone. He
didn't meet Duo's eyes. Instead, he studied the pitcher and glass as if he were
fascinated by the condensation of the cold liquid making slow trails down their
sides. "After you were stabilized, I had you brought here so that you could be
under the expert care of my physicians. They are some of the best."

"Why?" Duo asked, short and sharp.

Zechs did look up then, ice, blue eyes keen. "It was my duty. You were under
my employ and you were injured by a man of mine abusing his authority. I take
my duty and my responsibilities very seriously, Duo Maxwell."

It didn't explain anything, but Duo knew that he wasn't going to get a better
answer. "Okay, thanks for helping me out like this, I guess," he said. "Can I
get my clothes now and get these tubes out of me?"

Zechs shook his head and his white hair shimmered and swayed. "No, I'm afraid
not. I argued for, and won, the concession from your physicians to allow the
drugs to be discontinued, but they still insist that you remain in bed until
your ribs and punctured lung are well on their way to recovery."

"Meaning," Duo growled angrily, "That they don't trust me to take care of
myself?"

Zechs nodded. "You have already been hospitalized on many occasions for that
very reason. The diagnosis of 'manic depressive- suicidal' has been entered
into your personal medical records on your last three admissions."

Duo felt the bite of shame and embarrassment. It caused him to retort
viciously, "Me, manic depressive- suicidal? You're the one who had the gun to
his head, Zechs. Why aren't they drugging you?"

Zechs stared, blue eyes giving Duo a slow blink. The silence stretched until
Duo wanted to squirm. He suddenly felt like a rude boy in front of an elder. He
didn't like that feeling at all. Zechs finally spoke and his tone was slow and
measured. "I deserve that. "

It was a moment of vulnerability, Duo realized, an opportunity to go for
Zech's throat and get some payback. It confused him that Zechs was allowing it.
When Duo frowned and let the moment pass, he saw an infinitesimal expression of
relief on Zech's face, a relaxing around his blue eyes.

"We all have our bad days," Duo finally said lamely and moved his arms so that
the tubes tightened. He grimaced. "I'm having more than most, though." He
fingered a needle in his arm. "You do realize that you can't keep me here?"

"Law 340-c subsection alpha, paragraph 67, states clearly that those suspected
of mental instability can be forcefully restrained by medication and given
treatment," Zechs cited officially.

Duo cocked his head to one side, narrowing his purple eyes. "In a hospital,
I'm sure, not Prince Peacecraft's home. If you don't mind me saying, Zechs, all
logical explanation aside, it does seem a bit eccentric."

Zechs found a smile. It surprised him. He was tense and unsure. Duo was
turning out to be remarkably unpredictable. That unpredictability was making it
hard to make a coherent plan.

Did he still even have a plan? Zechs wondered. Things had definitely changed
since Duo had found him in that hotel room, ready to deliver summery execution.
All thoughts of conquering and possessing Duo had disappeared that day. His
intentions now were unclear. His emotions hard to fathom. Zechs still wanted
Duo to stay, and he still needed to be distracted from the darkness with in
him, but the two had separated in his mind.

Seeing Duo's blood on the floor, and knowing how close he had come to never
seeing that maddening ex-pilot again, had shocked and frightened Zechs in ways
he wasn't ready to analyze yet. He had never sought a relationship with anyone.
To suddenly feel the need for one was hard to accept or comprehend. That Duo
Maxwell, someone so different and opposed in nature to himself, seemed to be
the one generating that need in him, was even more disturbing.

"If you were free and able," Zechs asked at last. "What would you do?"

"Leave," Duo replied promptly and with challenge in his voice.

"Why?" Zechs countered. "You'll want for nothing why you stay and recuperate.
You'll have only the best doctors, the best treatment. Since it was a man in my
employ who caused your injuries, nothing will be charged to you. Leaving now
would be completely illogical."

It was so tempting to just accept and bask in a rich man's hospitality, Duo
thought as he continued to examine the needle in his arm. Having someone else
take care of the bills and the details of every day life had always been a
necessity for Duo. All of his attempts to take on those responsibilities
himself had been dismal failures.

Everyone else had made the transition to adult life, none of them seeming to
anguish over lost childhood, lost teen years, or lack of family. Only Duo
couldn't make the leap, the transition. His mind was as stunted in growth as
his body, a body that didn't look much different than it had when he had been
fifteen and a Gundam pilot. Too many missed meals and too much stress, one
doctor had diagnosed, and Duo wondered if the same could be said for his mind.
He couldn't grow up, mentally or physically, no matter how much he tried, and
here he was feeling tempted to play the child again and let Zechs, who's
motives were a mystery to him, take care of him.

Duo remained firm as he said. "That's nice of you, man, but I think I should
be getting back to my life, ya know?"

It was Zech's turn to go for the throat. How much did he know? Duo wondered as
he watched the thoughts play over the Prince's face. Did he know that Duo
didn't have a life to go back to? In the end, Zechs also chose not to go in for
the kill. He looked disapproving instead. "The argument is moot. You are too
weak to go anywhere, Duo Maxwell. If you wish to be taken to a hospital, I will
arrange it, but, I assure you, either there or here, you are bedridden."

Duo could feel it. He tensed muscles in his legs and felt them tremble. He
knew that they wouldn't support him if he tried to stand. Duo hated Zechs at
that moment, hated the man's quiet dominance and control of the situation. Even
though it wasn't Zech's fault that he, Duo, was injured, Duo still found it
easy to blame him. The man was taking full advantage of the situation and it
was still a mystery why.

"Let me think about," Duo said finally, meeting Zech's eyes and trying to
convey to the man that he was dangerous on his feet or flat on his back and
that any plans Zechs had for him were going to be thwarted. "I need to wait
until the drugs wear off before I can make any major decisions."

"That's only wise," Zech's replied.

Without warning, contrary to all common sense and training, Zechs suddenly
leaned over Duo. Duo froze as pale hair brushed against him and Zech's warm
body and warmer, masculine scent hit his senses. It was only a moment, but a
moment of complete, overwhelming confusion on Duo's part.

Zechs was straightening again, before Duo could react, and placing a touch pad
near Duo's hand. He backed away as Duo fought to wipe a wide eyed, astonished
look, and an accompanying blush, off of his face. He replaced it with a hard
scowl.

"You shouldn't do that," Duo managed to say in a voice that was strangled
sounding, distorted by the odd feelings rushing through him. "I don't need a
weapon to hurt you."

Zechs nodded, saying quietly. "I know." He motioned to the touch pad,
explaining in a stronger voice, "That allows you to call for assistance at any
time. The red button is for your physician. The green button is for your nurse.
The yellow button is for a servant. The black button is for my pager. I have
given orders to my staff to indulg