Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ The Edulcoration of Duo Maxwell ❯ Ivy ( Chapter 58 )

The Edulcoration of Duo Maxwell - 58/?

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Warnings: AU, yaoi, coarse language, violence, angst, cliffhangers, red herrings, mention of various vices, random bits of useless knowledge, occasionally explicit sex, enough footnotes to choke an army of horses.

Spoilers: Nah

Disclaimer: I don't really need to be Captain Obvious here, do I? No ownership, no money being made, yadda yadda. Written for fun, not profit.

Pairings to date: 2x1x2, 3+4, 4x3, 5+M/5xM, 9+6, past 2xH, past 4x1

Archived at:
http://www.atsui.org
http://www.gundam-wing-diaries.150m.com

Edulcorate (verb) - To free from harshness (as of attitude); to soften

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Just to clarify - before reading this, please insure that you've read the "real" chapter 57. If you read the chapter titled "Bringing Mayflowers" - that's the fake one, as you would have guessed after finishing it. I don't want to leave any stone left unturned, however. The real chapter 57 was titled "Liberty and Prosperity in the Violet Garden."

My apologies for any confusion my warped sense of humor may have caused. I actually expected this entire thing to have been finished long before April. Just goes to show you, I suppose.

~~~~~

Chapter 58 - Ivy

Quatre Winner sat on the steps of the back deck and propped his chin on his fist. The lawn in the back always looked more lush than that in the front, although he suspected it was his own preference for the backyard, as the front lawn provided the fescue with the direct sunlight it needed, where the estate itself cast parts of the backyard in shadow.

He could still remember how much time his father spent selecting the ideal blend of grass varieties to get the color and texture he desired. The Nevada climate didn't allow for much in the way of selection, as drought tolerance was a characteristic that was absolutely required.

"Long roots," a female voice said behind him.

He turned to see Iria's friend Sally standing out on the deck. He got to his feet automatically, causing a hint of amusement to light her features.

"I hope you are enjoying your stay with us," he said politely. He actually meant it. Any friend of Iria's was a friend of his, and Sally had been unfortunate witness to Quatre's coming out.

Almira hadn't believed him, had thought he was making it up just to spite her.

Iria had actually just entered the family room with Sally in tow when Quatre blurted it out. He'd had a little speech all prepared, including his conviction that it wasn't just a phase, that he'd know for years that he was different, and leading up to the news itself.

It had just taken one look at his eldest sister's bored expression, then a glance at his father who nodded slightly in encouragement, for him to decide to forget what he'd planned on saying and just go with the first thing that popped into his mind.

"I'm gay."

It was the same way he'd imparted the news to his father, whom he was glad had stayed in the room and not said a word. He didn't know what type of reaction he'd expected, but the fact that the Winner patriarch did not promptly denounce his son spoke volumes, although he supposed that was what threw Almira off. She'd expected that their father hadn't believed him, either.

Quatre smiled a bit as he remembered Almira's whirling around and demanding that their father talk some sense into him. All he'd said in response was that he'd met a friend of Quatre's, that he seemed a fine upstanding young man, and that he'd certainly hope his daughters would be gracious should Quatre ever decide to introduce him to the family.

It effectively shut her up. Almira hated feeling unbalanced, and she was still unsure as to whether or not her father was being deliberately obtuse, and if the word 'friend' carried more than one meaning.

Quatre wasn't sure himself.

Sally was leaning against the wide wooden rail and admiring the elaborate landscaping, especially the small topiaries along the edges.

His hand reached into his pocket and he felt the folded scrap of paper that he'd kept on his person since he left Los Angeles. The penciled digits were becoming faded with constant handling, but he'd committed the number to memory by now.

Quatre realized she'd just thanked him for his hospitality, but it was her earlier comment that had caught his attention.

"Excuse me?"

She glanced at him without moving her head. "I said thank you for making me feel welcome. Iria insisted."

He understood that Sally meant that Iria wouldn't allow her to pay for a hotel room, and not that his sister forced her to extend her gratitude. The Winner estate had numerous guestrooms, and Iria could be rather persistent. Sally hadn't had a chance.

He realized how ambiguous his question had been, and tried again.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. Before he could clarify, she nodded and repeated the first thing she'd said when she'd joined him.

"Long roots." She tilted her head toward the lawn. "They can run about six feet below the surface. That's what makes this blend so adaptable to an arid climate. The long roots enable it to absorb more water from the soil."

Quatre nodded, then joined her in looking out at the backyard.

"It's beautiful," she said. "The whole thing. The grass is lush, the topiaries are both sophisticated and quirky, and the choice of flowers provides just the right amount of color. It's quite a contrast to the view in the front."

"It is," he agreed. The front was out of one of the homes and gardening magazines. His father always wanted the exterior to look picture perfect, no matter what might be going on behind closed doors. Perception was often more important to people than the truth, he'd often said. If someone were going to judge you on appearances or rumors alone, then they'd better be damned good ones.

"It's more than the sum of its parts," she continued. "It's the way they complement each other that pulls it all together."

He blinked a few times, then realized he'd been moving his gaze from lawn to shrubs to flower beds and hadn't really looked at the picture they all made as a whole, something he usually prided himself on.

The little waterfall fountain made of small stones gave the impression of quenched thirst, and the shade from the house provided some protection from the sun for the flora planted nearby.

"I've spent many years," she said, "working in a laboratory, analyzing drugs down to their molecular level. Sometimes looking at the results in terms of strings of chemical elements makes me forget the reason I'm doing what I'm doing. The appeal of these substances - the very thing that makes them a desired commodity.

"Escape is an oft desired outcome. The end result is not always the freedom the user had hoped for. At best, they obtain only a temporary sense of euphoria. Instead of overcoming the harsh realities of life, so many people find that denial works best for them. Sadly the return trip becomes more painful each time, and they crave that same blissful feeling, so much so that they must find something that will sustain it longer, that will pull them deeper into the haze of clouded perceptions.

"Your sister has often said that she knew you were made of sterner stuff, Quatre," Sally continued. "She sees the end results of substance abuse in others. She's dealing with college students and burned out businessmen who thought they could reshape their lives into something tolerable using an outside agent of change." She paused, then added, "you two must be very close."

Quatre knew that Sally wasn't merely speculating with her last statement.

"We are."

She glanced over at him once more, noticing his hand had crept into his pocket again.

"Sometimes, Quatre, the answers won't be provided unless you ask the questions first."

She smiled at him and pushed herself away from the rail. "It's been a pleasure speaking with you. I look forward to doing so again."

He watched her walk back into the house. As soon as the door closed behind her, he pulled the paper out and unfolded it, staring at the number again.

With determination, he followed her into the house, then went straight to his room.

He picked up his phone and dialed the number with surprisingly steady hands.

~~~~~

"Anything else you wished to discuss today, Heero?" Jameson Hunter asked. Heero half expected him to stroke his chin as if he had a long pointy beard.

"No," Heero replied slowly. "But I need to bring it up anyway."

Hunter said nothing, merely waited for Heero to collect his thoughts.

"I engaged in highly promiscuous activities."

The psychologist didn't so much as raise an eyebrow. "Anything else?"

"Illegal prostitution," he clarified.

"Forgive my bluntness, Heero," Hunter apologized in advance, "but I must ask, if I hope to understand the motivations behind your actions."

Heero nodded.

"Buying or selling?"

Heero looked him right in the eye. "I was a whore."

The doctor nodded. "Interesting choice of words, Heero."

"Whore?"

"Was," Hunter corrected. "The things in your past, Heero, you're working those out just fine. It's the present that often becomes the sticking point. I'm glad you shared this with me," he continued. "I think you needed to say it out loud, to hear yourself say it. However, you strike me as the type for whom actions speak louder than words, and I've yet to see any sign that your current behavior is self destructive, nor do I feel you pose a risk to others.

"Our time is up for today, Heero. I will see you in two days."

~~~~~

Quatre was expecting Heero's voice mail. What he hadn't counted on was the pang to his heart upon hearing his ex-roommate's voice as it provided curt instructions to leave a message.

"Heero," he said quietly. "Please...call me when you get a chance..." he took a deep breath before rattling off his phone number, after which he slowly replaced the receiver.

He sat down on the edge of his bed and leaned forward, clasping his hands together and trying to get his riotous thoughts under control.

Why were things so difficult to sort? It was impossible to see things clearly when you were one of the involved participants. He wasn't even sure why he needed to talk to Heero, other than he felt safe, putting his thoughts into words, with Heero.

Heero had kissed him good-bye, and it had been the most gut wrenching kiss he'd ever shared with someone in his life.

Until Trowa had given him a tongue massage that had made him tingle from head to toe.

His hand reached for the phone again, but he pulled it back quickly. He could not, would not, absolutely refused, to call the other number he knew by heart.

By heart. He ran a hand through his hair and gave a short bark of laughter as he caught himself doing so. How many times had he seen Heero do the same?

He was developing a headache. He scooted back on the bed and swung his legs up, then let his head and shoulders drop back to the pillow.

Sometimes Heero made things look so damned simple. He was the most complicated person Quatre had ever met, or so he'd thought until this past week. Perhaps Heero only appeared complicated at first glance.

That wasn't to say Heero was shallow. There were few people Quatre had met that had as many layers to them as Heero. Of course many of them he'd seen just this week.

'French onion soup,' his mind supplied, and he snorted. Layers upon layers of complex human emotions and drives, ripped apart and jumbled so they were indistinguishable from those of others.

When Quatre had a problem, he worked through it by looking at each piece individually. However, Sally's comment earlier about the Big Picture was what he'd been missing. At one time he'd been proud of his ability to step back and see how things interconnected.

That was before his own emotions were so wrapped up in so many of the pieces that he was helpless to separate them.

This time, however, he'd start with each piece, and then let his mind wander over the whole thing. Maybe he'd missed something before.

Heero.

What about Heero?

For starters, Heero and Duo Maxwell.

Before Quatre had made that particular connection, he'd noted Duo's loneliness at their first meeting. That had struck him most of all. Next to that, regret was edging it out. He'd been unable to tell how the two were intertwined, but he'd been just as incapable of refraining from blurting out some ambiguous bit of advice.

He'd been so taken with whatever was brewing beneath the calm exterior of Duo Maxwell, he'd felt the need to make an opening statement at the meeting. He'd announced the benefits of exploring avenues that hadn't yet been considered.

He'd meant it as advice for Duo. There was an expression, he mused. Something like, 'physician, heal thyself.'

The avenues that hadn't been previously considered.

Trowa.

He rolled onto his stomach. Thoughts about Trowa would have to wait.

Dorothy Catalonia. Dorothy was bound to discover what he'd been up to lately. The axe was waiting to fall. After all that had happened, after being taken back into the fold, would Dorothy insure that the blade descended? He had only himself to blame for how it would affect him, but what would it do to the rest of the family?

Family. Iria. His sister was working with Sally Po on a case, one that involved a drug investigation.

Trowa had unwittingly been slipped GHB at one time. Trowa had adamantly refused to let Quatre drink from a glass that he hadn't personally given him. Quatre shook his head again. No. Not yet.

Where was he? Ah, yes, Iria and Sally Po.

Sally Po was an agent of the Drug Enforcement Administration.

As was Heero. Every damned road seemed to lead to Heero.

He'd spent a lot of time playing the 'If Only' game when it came to Heero. He loved Heero, supposed he always would. Could have been madly, deeply in love with Heero if his feelings had been reciprocated.

Love was, he supposed, like the fescue outside. It had deep roots, but eventually if there was nothing to irrigate it, even the deepest roots wouldn't be enough to sustain the grass. It would wither and die without water.

Heero was an amazing man, Quatre decided. He'd always thought so, but for different reasons. For young, worshipful, lust driven reasons. For the simple fact that Heero was older, just as cynical as he was, and full of hidden passions.

He'd fallen hard for Heero for admittedly shallow reasons, but had grown to love Heero for who he was.

Trowa had accepted Heero simply because Quatre had. Trowa had faith in Quatre's judgement. Trowa had grown fond of Heero over time, more testament that he looked past the image Heero fed to the rest of the world.

And Trowa wanted him. Had wanted him, sexually, for a long time. Had come over as soon as Heero called him, and had been calm as could be when faced with two guilty faces. He'd acted as if it the three of them were sitting at a table in the bar, turning to Quatre and asking how his meeting with his father had gone.

How the hell had Trowa known about that meeting?

When Heero had left for the airport, and it had just been the two of them, Trowa was quiet. Appraising.

He'd licked his lips once, and Quatre had recognized the signs. He seized that sense of the familiar, and had started touching Trowa, caressing him, pulling his shirt out of his waistband.

The feel of Trowa's skin retracting from his touch, not in revulsion, had egged Quatre on to explore further.

The sound of Trowa's breathing as Quatre had fastened his mouth over one of his nipples, the moans he elicited from Trowa's throat as his fingers unfastened his pants...all of these had continued to feed Quatre's ego. They made him feel in control, the way he'd needed to be with his johns.

It had fulfilled him more than any of his jobs had, though, because he'd wanted to hear those sounds. Wanted to touch and taste that flesh.

He'd been the one calling the shots at first. He'd been the one to lead Trowa into the bedroom, to strip him completely naked. Trowa's hands had seemed timid as he ran his hands over Quatre's arms.

When Trowa had bent forward and touched his forehead to Quatre's collarbone, the brush of hair tickled. Quatre had gone weak in the knees, a situation he'd quickly remedied by maneuvering them both to the bed.

He'd been the dominant party when he'd made love to Heero, but Trowa was a different story.

Heero had almost reluctantly given in to Quatre, but Trowa was eager for it. Was panting, back arched, eyes latching onto Quatre's.

Quatre had wanted to do it with Trowa facing him, but before he could position himself between his legs, Trowa turned on his hands and knees and said his name. One word that sounded like both a plea and a command.

Their voices were so different, Quatre mused. Heero's had been a little more monotone, but Trowa's carried a world of inflections.

"Quatre..."

It had been a siren calling, and Quatre was surprised when he realized just how damned horny he was. He'd jerked off a few times, but it had been a while since he'd had sex with someone else.

He'd unrolled the condom before brushing his fingers over Trowa's ass. Part of him had wanted to run his tongue up the space in between, but he'd shaken off that desire quickly. It had no place for what was happening between them.

As soon as he'd sheathed himself in Trowa, he'd stilled his body, allowing Trowa to adjust. Allowing himself to adjust. It was different from wrapping his hand around his dick. The pressure was different. The heat was different.

Trowa was different.

Then Quatre had stopped thinking, and started fucking, focusing solely on the physical sensations, the raw animal need that had been reawakened.

It had felt so damned good. He'd reached around and started stroking Trowa's length as he slammed into him. When Trowa's back bowed and his head was thrown back, when he moaned, all of it had spurned Quatre to the edge of orgasm.

When Heero's name spilled out of his mouth, he'd been horrified, then the next thing he knew Trowa had pulled off him and was out the door.

It had taken Quatre a moment to realize the noises he'd heard had come from the kitchen, and had been more than the sounds of the bed slamming against the wall.

He'd followed Trowa to the kitchen, and he couldn't have been more surprised to see Duo Maxwell there, his eyes fixed on that part of Trowa that Quatre had been roughly stroking moments before.

Things were incredibly awkward after that. Quatre could probably spend all day listing the reasons why that confrontation was mortifying, but the one that rang utmost in his mind was the utterance of Heero's name.

Trowa had been more than understanding.

Duo had been horrified.

Whom had he wronged more? Trowa, for shouting someone else's name as he came? Duo, for overhearing his lover's name shouted by someone else?

Or Heero, for being caught up in what seemed to be far more than a simple love triangle?

~~~~~

"I thought you and Hilde had broken up, Duo," Wufei said, a puzzled look on his face.

"We did."

"Haven't you been spending a lot of time together lately?"

"Ever hear of friends, Wufei?"

That comment was met with a disgusted look. "I'm aware of friendships, Duo. I just don't think you two spent this much time together when you..."

"When we WERE together?" Duo interjected. "You're probably right."

He went back to perusing the document in front of him. Wufei was still standing there.

"Anything else, Wufei?"

His partner shook his head. "No. Unless you're done with the info on McNeil's"

"Give me an hour and I'll be more than ready to let you have this bathroom reading material."

Wufei made a small sound of disgust before leaving Duo to his own devices. Once he'd turned the corner, Duo looked up and stared at the open door.

His partner was hiding something from him. Had been ever since they'd gotten back from California. He'd caught Wufei open his mouth as if to say something, on more than one occasion, before closing it. Duo almost expected to hear the jaw snap shut each time.

Had he been spending that much time with Hilde? He supposed he had. It seemed ironic that he did seem to have much more free time for her now that they were no longer involved.

What did that say about their relationship? Hilde had complained several times in the past that she spent more time talking to Sylvia than she had to Duo, but they'd managed to find time together every couple of days. The second application of medicated shampoo had gone much better than the first, as they'd recaptured the easy friendship they'd had before they'd slept together for the first time.

His first blood test was scheduled two weeks before Hilde's business social. It would be reassuring to know that at least some diseases had been ruled out. He wondered about the whole information sharing. At least he wouldn't need to tell Hilde if anything came back positive, as he'd been monogamous when they were involved.

He was proud of her. She'd never expected nor wanted to ride on his coattails, no more than Meiran had with Wufei. Why hadn't things worked out between them? Hilde was spunky, intelligent, attractive, physically fit, and they'd had great sex.

That bothered him. He'd enjoyed sex with Hilde. His libido was healthy, they'd had some great times, they'd even joked about adding 'benefits' to their friendship.

So why wasn't he the least bit serious when he brought it up during their banter? It wasn't just that he wanted to be sure he was disease-free. He just had no real desire to tread that path again.

He set down the prospectus on one of their earlier acquisitions. The company name hadn't changed after they'd purchased it. In fact, it was rare for them to rename any of the businesses they bought and sold. A waste of time, considering they often didn't hold onto these businesses for very long. It was all about the market price.

Yet Sanquhar was a different story entirely. Even its name - who had come up with it? It was one that had nothing to do with Peacecraft, Winner, or Maxwell-Chang, all companies bearing the names of their founders.

Speaking of Sanquhar, Wufei would be permanently relocated in Los Angeles, or one of the neighboring cities, by the end of the month. He realized he'd miss working with Wufei. Who was he kidding? He'd miss Wufei and Meiran.

Duo stood up and stretched. It was a good business strategy, however, having each of them located on opposite coasts. It was downright necessary with the startup of Sanquhar that someone be on-site.

Part of him wanted to be there, wanted to feel first hand what it was like to build a business again. They'd been working with established corporations for so long, he itched to be involved with a startup company again.

He did not, however, particularly care to run into Quatre Winner.

If he were honest with himself, he wasn't even sure how much of that was because he'd barged in on Quatre, causing both of them undue embarrassment.

Quatre was a damned good looking man, he admitted, but then, so was the 'partner' he'd been with that day.

He took a deep breath, replaying the scene in his mind, when the other man, Trowa, had him against the wall. He had to admit, the man had a damned fine physique, but what had been the most welcome sight of all was the knowledge that the man was a bit larger than Heero, and therefore it had not been Heero with Quatre's cock buried in his ass.

There was something between Quatre and Heero, that was for sure, but it wasn't physical. He wasn't sure if that made him feel better or worse.

All the awkwardness aside, he reluctantly admitted he'd found both Trowa and Quatre physically attractive, although admiring the scenery had been the furthest thing from his mind that day.

He needed to give the situation more thought. He picked up the paperwork on his desk. He'd drop it off on Wufei's desk so the man would stop hounding him for it. Then perhaps they could discuss Sanquhar a bit. He needed to take a more active role in that and stop acting missish about it. Quatre Winner was just a business partner. A man, like himself, like his partner.

Like Heero, perhaps.

He was looking forward to meeting up with Hilde later.

~~~~~

"Why the sudden interest in Scrabble, anyway, Duo? You usually prefer games like Risk or Stratego."

Duo shrugged, but Hilde didn't notice, busy as she was turning letter tiles upside down so they could each select one to determine who went first.

Hilde won the first move. As they started selecting their tiles for the game, she frowned.

"Duo? You only use seven tiles in Scrabble."

His hand hesitated slightly as he held the last two aloft, then he set them down again. "Do you want me to select seven new ones?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm sure I can beat you even if you cheat," she teased.

She laid down the word PINKY, with the word centered on the star, despite Duo's snort. "You call that a word?"

"I do. Pinky. Fourteen points," she said, jotting down her score before selecting five new tiles.

He eyed the board and then his own tiles. He shuffled some around. He could use the C, H, E, S, and T with Hilde's Y. That would put the T on the triple letter score square, giving seventeen points. He picked up the C, then hesitated. He rearranged the tiles and then grinned at Hilde.

With this word he'd get two triple letter squares, and one of them would be the four point H.

He placed the S and the C above Hilde's Y, and then finished with T, H, and E.

"Scythe. Twenty-four points," he said proudly.

"It's still early in the game," she warned him, looking more than pleased as she laid a Q several spaces above the P of pinky, then triumphantly placed a U directly under it.

"Quip," she announced. "Seventeen points...the score is now thirty-one to twenty-four."

He slid a single tile beneath the P. "Quips. Sixteen points."

She growled. "That is so unfair," she complained. "You get the ten points for the Q and you didn't have to wait for the U tile, either."

"I could cry for you a little bit," he offered.

She beamed at him. "Why, thank you, Duo!" She laid down two letters next to the S in 'scythe.' "Sob."

"Five measly points and you think that's a major advance?"

"Let's see what you've got, Maxwell." She pulled two more tiles from the pile.

He put two O's above Hilde's B before laying his last letter.

"Boob. Double word score, too," he added. "Fifty-six to your thirty-six, Schbeiker."

"I am so tempted to pick out your wardrobe for that networking boondoggle," she muttered. She frowned at her letters, and Duo expected her to forfeit her turn by exchanging some of her tiles, but she finally placed an H to the left of the E in 'scythe.'

"He," she sighed. "Still, it's five points."

Duo decided to form 'hero' with his R and O tiles, but as soon as he'd laid them down, Hilde cleared her throat.

"Want me to challenge you on a new word, Duo, or are you slipping with your spelling these days?"

He glanced down and realized he'd inadvertently placed a second E next to 'he' before he'd finished the word.

HEERO.

"You're too good to me," he muttered, pulling out the extra E and moving the other two letters to the left.

"Would you say, then, that I'm your heeeeeero?"

Duo froze.

He was staring at the word HERO on the board, but picturing the way it had looked, before Hilde pronounced it with an exaggerated long E sound.

He realized he'd had sex with someone whose name he didn't even know how to spell. If he wanted to find Heero, how could he do so?

'You had sex with someone whose last name you don't even know,' he reminded himself. 'For all you know, Heero isn't even his real name.'

He shook his head. No. He knew that Heero hadn't lied about his name. He'd cried out that name in the throes of passion - the very thought that the name was nothing more than a lie was more than he could stomach.

"Duo?"

"Sorry," he mumbled. "Let's see what you've got. You're still behind." His smile convinced her that all was well.

Hilde was less than gracious sometime later when she won, using the O in HERO to spell out LOSER.

~~~~~

Heero could see why Sally had been so happy to hand over these particular reins when she left. Recorded statements taken by an agent that had been working with local officers. The slurred speech of the emergency room patient made it impossible to understand a thing that was said.

The digital version on the computer was no better than the tape Sally had worked with earlier, although he had the option of slowing it down, speeding it up, and trying to use the software to cut out the background noise. Audio files were not his forte on the computer, however.

He selected the file containing the follow-up interview, when the patient had been brought in for questioning at the station. He sighed. In his experience, everyone suddenly became a legal expert when brought in for questioning, insisting on their right to speak with a lawyer first. He wondered how much this kids parents knew.

He bit his lip slightly. He really should call his parents soon. He'd left a few messages on their answering machine over the past few months, careful to call when they were at work, but he was sure they'd appreciate a more interactive form of communication after all the clipped messages he'd left. He supposed, as parents, they'd always be worried about him, especially considering his job. Hell, they'd probably be happier to see him in person...

He started slightly when Noin put her hand on his shoulder.

"Yuy? Ready to call it a day?"

He nodded, pulling off the headset. When she suggested they stop for a beer and a bite to eat before heading their separate ways, he welcomed the distraction.

It was later that night, lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, when he realized the truth of what Hunter had said early in their sessions. It wasn't a relapse, but the pain was still sharp at times.

The idea of going to his parents' home, and seeing the Vargas home next door...he didn't know if he was ready for that. He'd rather be called to the carpet like a wayward child for approaching Hitomi wearing leather pants and a blond wig.

'What are you, Heero, seventeen?' he chided himself.

The appointments with Hunter often seemed useless to Heero, although he supposed it helped to have an unbiased listener. There was still that one sticking point that Hunter kept hinting at, that one bit of self-knowledge that Heero refused to share with him. Perhaps, given enough time, Hunter would be convinced that it was not something that would impact his job performance. Even the unexpected reminders of Kitty, although painful, didn't have the same ability to render him powerless over his actions.

He reached over and pulled the stuffed bear hidden between the pillow and the wall and hugged it to his chest, resting his chin between its ears. He rubbed the plush fabric with his chin, which was finally showing signs of stubble.

He released the bear and ran a hand over his stomach. As it slid up toward his chest, he winced as he encountered the short hairs there as well. He turned his head to the side and stared at the plush ursine face. He'd swear its embroidered mouth was smirking at him.

He sighed. He supposed that was one more appointment he'd need to make, if Noin's idle speculation earlier that evening was accurate.

"How'd you like to have the fur stripped off half of YOUR body, Gaia?" he grumbled, tossing the bear to the foot of the bed before flopping over onto his stomach and turning off the bedside lamp.

He just knew Noin was going to be smirking at him the entire time.

At least he didn't have to go to Buffalo this time.

~~~~~

Sol - for the love of Duo's safety - here it is! What can I say, the rug rat is reminding me where that term comes from these days.

The board games, both of which require strategy, and therefore both of which I suck at:

Risk: http://www.hasbro.com/pl/page.viewproduct/product_id.9491/dn/default.cfm

Stratego: http://www.hasbro.com/pl/page.viewproduct/product_id.9518/dn/default.cfm

Gaia - Mother Earth in Greek mythology. She was the original goddess to whom the Oracle at Delphi was dedicated. Mother of the one-hundred armed, fifty-headed giants known as Hecatonchires, as well as the Cyclopes and the Titans. Her daughter, Rhea, was mother of many of the Olympic gods and goddesses.

Rhea is the one who wrapped a stone in swaddling clothes to fool her husband, Cronos, into thinking it was Zeus, the last remaining child. Cronos swallowed each of his children whole, determined to thwart his destined fate and have his son overthrow him.

Rhea is sometimes credited with saving the heart of Dionysus (other times it is Athena who is responsible) after Hera, in a jealous rage over Zeus' transgression with the mother of Dionysus (then known as Zagreus), had the Titans tear Zagreus apart, eating all of him but his heart.

Zeus consumed the heart and "visited" Semele, thereby begetting yet another son. (Sometimes the story is that Semele herself ate the heart.) Thus, Dionysus was "born again." Other versions indicate Dionysus was "thrice-born."

Regardless of whom was responsible for salvaging his heart, it was Rhea who cured Dionysus of his madness, beset upon him by a persistent Hera. No wonder he has such a dual nature...born multiple times to multiple mothers under various circumstances is a hell of a way to make an entrance!