Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Deadly Beautiful ❯ Three Cheers for Hormones ( Chapter 40 )

Deadly Beautiful - Chapter 40

 

by danse

 

~*~

 

Noin shielded her eyes from the bright afternoon sun as she dug in her pockets for her sunglasses. She was leaning on the hood of the blue compact car that Pargan had presented her with as Relena's personal shuttle. At first he'd insisted that the limousine was just fine, as status symbols like that weren't unusual among her schoolmates, but Noin had convinced him that a small, nondescript car would be good for outings. Today, she was using it to pick Relena up from school.

 

It had been eighteen days since Noin had accepted the post as Relena Peacecraft's personal bodyguard, and since then, a routine had developed. Noin would take her to school in the morning, either riding in the limo or driving the car, and then pick her up at the end of the day. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, when Relena had tennis club in the afternoons, Noin would watch from the bleachers. She carried a handgun in an ankle holster at all times and was rarely without her sunglasses, even though she dressed in street clothes (she'd had to restock her civilian wardrobe somewhat since arriving in Liechtenstein). On weekends, the two young women would go sightseeing or shopping, and if Relena had made any friends who she wanted to spend time with at this point, Noin would have acted as an escort on their outings.

 

Unfortunately, this wasn't yet the case.

 

Despite three weeks of regular classes with her schoolmates, along with her extra German classes, the tennis club, and the tutoring she'd begun in English during lunch on Wednesdays, Relena hadn't shown any evidence of forming closer bonds with any of the girls she attended school with. Noin could only remember specifically one instance where their existence had even been acknowledged outside of school, when Relena had come home growling unintelligibly about some girl named Dorothy. Noin had observed that Dorothy was also in the tennis club, and had seen them talking occasionally but not acting particularly warm to each other. Dorothy struck Noin as a pretentious oddball, but it was hard to say she disliked the girl. She just seemed like someone worth looking out for.

 

Noin looked up at the front door of the Friedenskraft-Sank school as it opened to release crowds of young women in identical uniforms, and smiled at Relena as she approached the car. Just as she pushed herself off of the hood to walk around to the driver's side, her pager went off. She clapped a hand over it, frowning. Two people had the number. One of them was Pargan, and he rarely felt a need to page Noin, unless she and Relena were on one of their long expeditions into European culture. She glanced at the LCD screen discreetly. As I thought, she sighed to herself. She clipped the pager back to her belt, and must have still been frowning because Relena walked right up to her, looking concerned.

 

“Is something wrong, Noin?” her charge asked. “You look upset or something.”

 

'Or something' is right, Noin thought. “It's nothing. You ready to go?” she asked, putting on a smile.

 

Relena nodded and opened the passenger door, shooting Noin one last concerned look as she got in before letting it go.

 

Noin got in and started the car, backing up out of her parking spot and turning onto the street to go home. She could get away when Relena got settled in with her homework and be back in time for dinner.

 

Nearly three weeks without a single word... I'm gonna have some things to say to you, Zechs.

 

***

 

He was waiting where his message had indicated: in the same park, on the same bench they'd been sitting on when he'd gotten her promise to look after Relena. She hung back for a minute before he saw her, observing him as he watched the ducks on the pond; his long, silvery hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, and he wore a blue, button-down shirt and worn-looking jeans. His arm was stretched out along the back of the bench, a folded newspaper on the seat beside him. She cursed him silently; he still looked as irresistible as ever.

 

Composing herself and running her fingers through her bangs, Noin casually strolled up to him. “Nice day to watch the ducks,” she said as she moved the newspaper and sat down next to him. She tried not to react as he straightened and removed his arm from the back of the bench and from behind her shoulders.

 

He leaned forward instead, looking at his hands in his lap. “So how is she?” he asked.

 

Noin hadn't bothered to expect any comment on her own wellbeing to precede this, so at least it didn't upset her. “She's doing fine,” she answered softly, looking out across the pond at a couple on the other side that was walking along hand-in-hand. “No threats, no real problems in school; she's adjusting well.”

 

He let out a held breath. “That's good,” he said with feeling. “That's better than I'd hoped for.”

 

“But....”

 

He looked at her then, his icy eyes meeting hers for the first time. “But?” She could see the worry resurfacing.

 

Noin cleared her throat. “She doesn't have any friends yet. Except perhaps for this one... Dorothy Catalonia, I think her name is.”

 

“Catalonia?!” Zechs exclaimed.

 

Noin looked at him in alarm.

 

“It's... nothing. Nothing. I just... know the name, that's all. It's not a big deal.” He was blushing a little now, regretting his outburst.

 

“There's something else, too,” Noin said. “Pargan knows that you're still alive.” She looked down at her shoes. “I had to tell him; there was no other way to win his trust. He doesn't know your alias though.”

 

Zechs put a hand on her shoulder, and Noin felt an involuntary thrill go through her. “It's alright, Noin. I trust you not to tell the wrong people, and I trust Pargan.” He slid his arm back around her shoulder absently, relaxing against the bench as he looked back out at the pond. “So things are going alright for you too, then,” he said quietly.

 

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Um, yeah, I guess they are. I like Relena; she's going to be a fine person. My job isn't hard; I like it here. It's good,” she finished. “How are things back at OZ?” she asked finally.

 

“Treize is having some problems lately,” Zechs answered. “Terrorism or something, I'm not privy to all of it. There's some definite sabotage going on though, and he's starting to think there's a mole in the organization now. I went to inspect a base in the Former Soviet Union and it blew up before I left. When I got back to headquarters, though, I got promoted.”

 

Noin's thoughts of her experiences on the night the South African base was destroyed were shocked from her head. “A promotion?” she squeaked.

 

“I'm a Lieutenant-Colonel now,” Zechs confirmed.

 

She couldn't have said why, but Noin felt cold all of a sudden. She stiffened and leaned away from his touch a little. He outranks me now. After all that time.... After all I've done for him, I'm here, sitting on a park bench in a foreign country, babysitting his sister while he gets promoted. “Well, sir, I'd better be going,” she said a little icily. “Your sister, the princess, awaits.” She got up and turned to leave, catching a glimpse of his face as she moved. He looked kind of hurt. There was a brief window where Noin could have turned back to him, laughing, and it would have been a joke, but she took a step away, and it vanished.

 

She felt sorry to walk away and leave him, the love of her life, like that, but not quite sorry enough to do anything about it except continue. After all that, there had been nothing for her to say about the past three weeks of wondering what had happened to him. She was getting tired of fighting the battles for other people. Her stomach growled; it was time for dinner at the Friedenskraft mansion.

 

***

 

Treize Kushrenada dropped yet another report back on his desk, throwing his arms behind his head and reclining in his chair as he glared at the ceiling. This time it had been Argentina's Leo base, and there had been a handful of survivors: the lieutenant and three privates who had been on duty in the watchtower when the explosion had occurred. Rubble had embedded itself in the supports of the tower, but the thing itself had stayed intact. Another accident report.

 

South Africa. Algeria. Georgia. Now Argentina. And the assassination of Dekim's son at that summit. Three of the reports were able to describe teenage boys as being the perpetrators. Treize sat upright slowly, staring at nothing and feeling very tired. He hadn't risen this far in the military without a good head for the 'what if'. Something had to be done before everything OZ and Romefeller were working toward hit the fan.

 

He pressed the button on his desk intercom. “Theresa, please summon Lady Une to my office,” he said.

 

***

 

After leaving Argentina, the boys went back to Quatre's as a group to recuperate a little before going their separate ways again. After standing in some thick brush at the bottom of the mountain to change into the extra civilian clothes they'd all brought along, they'd all stood over the pile of dirty OZ uniforms on the ground and deliberated over whether to leave them. Finally, reminding themselves of their track record while infiltrating bases and assuming costumes, it was decided that they should keep the OZ uniforms they'd collected on this mission, find more in the future that fit, and start a sort of costume wardrobe.

 

After arriving at Quatre's and throwing the uniforms into the laundry, the five of them took over a large, unoccupied sitting room, spread out enough glue and pens and scissors on the coffee table to make it look like Arts and Crafts Hour, and set about doctoring the OZ identification cards they'd commandeered along with the uniforms, altering the pictures and cutting and pasting more appropriate information on the cards. Duo happily made himself into a lieutenant over the course of an hour, having found a uniform at the base with badges on the sleeve.

“This'll do for now,” Quatre said. “We should all go get some photo booth pictures soon though so we can fix them up better and laminate them properly.”

 

A little later, Duo stumbled tiredly down the hall to his bedroom. He grinned and then yawned as he shut the door behind him, looking longingly at the bed in the room he'd been given. He'd been happy to realize that it was the same room he'd stayed in the last time he was here. Stripping down to his boxers, he fell into bed and was asleep almost instantly. Snuggling his pillow, he started to dream....

 

***

 

He was standing on a dark street corner, and it was wet like there had just been a downpour. Hearing a noise from his left, Duo turned and saw a figure hidden beneath a trench coat running away. He was compelled to chase after it. The person turned just slightly to look at him as they ran, and he tried to see the face but it was shadowed. An eerie laugh drifted back to him as he watched it duck into an alley and took off after it.

 

Soon it was a high-speed game of tag through an impossible maze of alleyways, and Duo was It. He would put on a burst of speed and gain on the trench coat, only to miss when he grabbed at it and fall behind as the mystery person disappeared around a corner. He was getting frustrated. He wanted to catch this being who never showed its face and always stayed a step ahead. The feeling sharpened into a constant, never-ending prick of desire in his gut as he ran. He had to catch it. He would catch it and he would pin it and he would see what was under that trench coat that was eluding him so easily, taunting him with every step.

 

He chased it around a corner, lost it once more, and then ducked into a shadowed alleyway just in time to see a door in front of him closing. He surged toward it, watching his hand leap out in front of him, and caught the doorknob, nearly ripping the door from its hinges as he slid to a stop in the threshold.

 

It was dark and quiet, with soft shadows. He heard a soft voice calling his name, and followed a sweet, alluring scent across an empty room and through a doorway. Predatory now, he crept into the small, warm bedroom and saw the person in the trench coat, whose back was turned as soft hands pulled off wet gloves. Now the hands reached up to the collar to pull off the sodden coat, but Duo was going to claim his prize. He slipped silently across the room, closing the distance between himself and the mystery person, and slowly pulled down the coat from behind, watching the muscles relax as the delicate arms dropped to let it slide off and land forgotten on the floor.

 

Duo stepped forward, wrapping a strong arm around the narrow waist in front of him and inhaling the smell of his prize, the smell of rain and musk and sweat. He rubbed his lips along the place where slender neck met exquisite shoulder, kissed and licked it as he listened to the Other's breathing quicken, soft sighs that reminded him somehow of rain on the roof. Closing his eyes and going by touch alone, Duo worked his way around to the front of the neck, placing light, nibbling kisses along the collarbone and letting his hands explore. Unnecessary clothes disappeared, and suddenly they were on the bed, and Duo's desire was so great, it was practically another being itself, and he opened his eyes to see the face of his prize, lying underneath him with lust-glazed eyes.

 

It was Heero.

 

***

 

He woke up sweating and shaking. It was too cold—no, too warm in his room. Where was he? He was at Quatre's secret Maganac base. Heero's room was probably down the hall.... Shut up brain! he growled to himself, holding a quivering hand to his forehead. What was this? Was he going crazy? He didn't like guys; he was straight. Hell, he ogled women all the time. He had a hot girl living in his apartment right now.... And she had for the past couple of months, and she slept on the couch. Jesus, Duo! He was clearly off his rocker. He'd heard that it happened sometimes to agents who had spent too many years in the field, who had seen or experienced something really traumatic. Surely something he'd done counted as traumatic enough to make him snap.

 

He looked at the clock. It was shortly after four in the morning. He was still exhausted. He sat by the window for the rest of the night and watched the sun come up, not trusting himself to sleep anymore.

 

***

 

Trowa and Quatre were alone for the moment, waiting for everyone else to get up and make it to the cafeteria, where they'd agreed to meet in the morning. They both sat nursing coffee and poking at their cereal in silence. Quatre's mind was racing though. Finally he set down his spoon, trying to think of a way to start the conversation. He looked up at Trowa, who was studying him expectantly, his green gaze calm. “So, um,” Quatre said lamely, “when... when do you think you're gonna go back to Catherine?”

 

Trowa raised his eyebrows. “Why? Do you want me to go?” he asked, sounding bemused.

 

“No! No. You can stay as long as you want. But,” he said contemplatively, “she's your sister, and you think she's in danger. You're not going to want to stay away from her too long, are you?”

 

Trowa took a bite of cereal. “Well, you have a point there, and I have been considering it,” he said. “But Catherine isn't defenseless, and she's safe as far as I know. Besides, I have some stuff to share with the group when they get here.”

 

“Like what?” Quatre asked, perking up.

 

Trowa shook his head. “I'll wait till everyone's together.”

 

“Oh. Okay.” Quatre stirred his cereal around and around, not really hungry. “Was it something from Argentina?” he asked, working his way around to his point.

 

Trowa grunted affirmatively around his coffee cup.

 

“You know...” The Arabian boy said, stretching his fingers out in front of him, “you freaked me out pretty bad when you called off Wufei and me that night.”

 

“I know I did,” Trowa said, “but it was under control. Bringing in you two at that point would only have endangered all three of us.”

 

“That didn't make me any less nervous,” Quatre said, feeling bolder as he spoke. “I thought you were gonna get killed, Tro.”

 

Trowa raised an eyebrow. “You were that worried about me?” he asked, looking surprised.

 

“Trowa,” Quatre said flatly. “I care about you.”

 

There, it was said. Quatre sat back and waited to see how it would go over.

 

Trowa locked eyes with Quatre, feeling his steady aquamarine gaze go straight through, and couldn't move. He fought to set down his cup. He wondered how it could be that he was simultaneously surprised that things had come to this and relieved that Quatre had finally put it out in the air. As he was trying to make his lips form words, Duo walked up to the table carrying a cup of coffee and looking like shit, completely killing the conversation.

 

“Hi Duo,” they both said at once, too happy to see him.

 

Duo made some kind of noise, slugged back some coffee, and winced as he set the cup down. Wufei appeared a minute later with waffles and Heero directly after that with a bowl of fruit salad. Heero took the empty chair between Quatre and Wufei, seated directly across from Duo. Duo looked briefly like he was going to be ill and promptly averted his eyes from the slowly munching Heero, looking at the handle of his coffee cup.

 

After the quiet and oddly tense breakfast was finished, Trowa started the meeting. “You all know I went into the base alone the other night, and I was in disguise. I was supposed to just set the bomb and leave,” he looked a little guilty, “but on my way to do that, I stumbled across something great.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, spreading it out on the table. “I found this in the unoccupied office of the Leo base's commanding officer,” he explained.

 

Heero grabbed the page and spun it around so that he could read it. He raised an eyebrow. “This is an invitation to a formal dinner next week,” he said.

 

“A Romefeller party,” Trowa said triumphantly.

 

Heero looked up at Trowa then, his eyes glittering with the possibilities. “We could kill all of Romefeller's—and probably OZ's—big-shots in one fell swoop,” he said, sounding slightly awed. “That would stop all of this.”

 

Quatre was studying the invitation, as well. “Or we could collect intelligence,” he said.

 

Heero thought about it. “This is true. We'd be naïve to expect that they wouldn't be nervous about the destruction of, what, four bases in the past three months? Security will probably be stepped-up,” he said. “Maybe it would be better to collect information. Or we could organize one hit on one person.”

 

“But which one?” Quatre asked.

 

Wufei spoke up. “I can think of a good one,” he said quietly. “Treize Kushrenada.”

 

The name didn't mean much to the others.

 

Quatre was still examining the invitation. “This is good-quality stock,” he said. “It's monogrammed, too.”

 

Trowa stretched. “It's probably one of those ones where you have to show it to get in,” he said. “Shame I folded it. Did that when I extracted it without realizing.”

 

“Shouldn't be a big deal,” Quatre said. “Luckily, there's no name on here, so no one should have to assume any identities.” He held up the card. “Plus one,” he grinned.

 

“We should put that aside for the moment,” Heero said. “In the meantime, where do we go from here as a group?” he asked, voicing the unspoken question.

 

Quatre frowned. “Why can't we keep working together?” he said. “It's working for us so far. I mean, that last mission worked fantastically. We couldn't have done that alone, any of us.”

 

Wufei examined his butter knife, keeping stubbornly quiet.

 

Duo stretched, fixing his gaze on Quatre who was beside him. “I think I've pretty much quit G's organization by now,” he said. “I can't see how I can continue to work there and do the things I've done for him when I know that you guys are out here, fighting the good fight. I sleep better,” he sighed. Mostly.

 

Quatre looked surprised but pleased. “What are you going to do now, then, Duo?”

 

“I don't know. I need to call Hilde,” he grumped.

 

“Who's Hilde?” Heero asked, sipping from a glass of water.

 

Duo blushed unexpectedly. “She, uh, she's my roommate,” he stuttered.

 

Trowa grinned lecherously. “You dog, you,” he laughed.

 

“It's not like that!” Duo said. “But she sleeps on my couch and she works for G too. And I... kinda had to tell her about you guys, it's a long story,” he said, scratching the back of his head self-consciously. “Shewantstomeetyounow,” he muttered.

 

Wufei raised his eyebrows, having been the only one who understood Duo's last sentence. “Meet us? Well, why isn't she here, if she's single?” he grinned.

 

Duo turned a deeper shade of red, and it spread to his ears.

 

Quatre started feeling sorry for Duo. “You can use a secure line from here and call her. If you want to stay here a while longer, that's fine.” He paused for a second, looking hard at Duo. “And if she wants to come visit here, that can also be arranged.”

 

Duo suddenly relaxed as if every problem he had had just been solved. “Thanks, Q,” he grinned. “I'll go find that phone now, if that's okay.”

 

Quatre got up to go with him, but he'd barely reached the door when a hand on his arm stopped him. He turned; it was Trowa. Just seeing the look in his eyes, Quatre called to Duo. After giving him directions to the closest secure phone, he let Trowa lead him down a different hallway until they were standing in a somewhat secluded garden.

 

“So?” Quatre asked once they were seated on a stone bench, under a palm tree.

 

Trowa was just staring at him, chewing his lip.

 

Quatre gave him a funny look as he tried to feel Trowa's thoughts on the air. He felt nothing.

 

Trowa started cracking his knuckles, one by one, making them pop loudly as he still chewed his lip, never moving his gaze from Quatre's. Finally, he looked down. “I...” He sighed and looked up again. “I'm sorry, Quatre.”

 

Quatre's heart turned to stone and shattered in an instant. He listened, his hands clenching into fists in his lap.

 

Trowa looked like he had just been asked to swallow a hedgehog. “If it was going to be anyone, Quatre, I think it would be you. But I'm sorry.”

 

Quatre gave his friend a cool look. “It's not me, it's you, right?” He raised his eyebrow, feeling hurt. “If only I was female....”

 

Trowa's eyes went very wide. He raised his hands in front of him, waving them back and forth as he shook his head. “No, no, no! It's not like that!”

 

But unfortunately for Trowa, Quatre could taste guilt on the air. “You're lying,” he said softly. “I know you are. But I can't force you to do anything.” He folded his hands in his lap again, studying them. “How do you think I feel about all of this, Trowa? I'm Muslim. I'm religious. My feelings for you go against my belief system, and still, there they are.” He gave Trowa a searching look. “What's your excuse?” he said.

 

Having nothing else to say, and hating the scent of sadness, hurt, and guilt coming from his teammate as the silence hung and grew thick, Quatre stood up and left the peaceful garden without another word.

 

Wufei saw him coming back inside the building with his hand over his mouth, and gave the garden door a pointed look as he walked past.

 

***

 

Duo listened to his home phone ring, not expecting it to be picked up. He looked at his watch; it was the middle of the night at home. Just as he was about to hang up, a sleepy female voice answered. “H'lo? Whozzis?”

 

“Hey, Hilde, it's Duo,” he said.

 

“Oh. Oh, hey. Where are you?”

 

“I'm with my team right now,” he answered. “We're in the Middle East.”

 

“Where in the Middle East? And how long are you going to be there?” Hilde sounded alert now, snapping the questions at him.

 

“Um, somewhere in Saudi Arabia,” he answered. “I'm not really sure where. And I don't know how long I'm staying, either.”

 

“Well, it's going to be at least another few days,” she said authoritatively. “I have to go to Lebanon for G, and then I'm coming to see you. I'll leave the arrangements from there up to you and the people you're with.” She gave him a contact number that sounded like a cell phone. “Now goodbye, I leave tomorrow and I need to sleep,” she said, hanging up before he could get a word in edgewise.

 

Well, I guess that solved a problem or two, Duo thought as he hung up the phone. He was feeling nervous about it already.

 

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