Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Deadly Beautiful ❯ Operation Lola ( Chapter 42 )

A/N: Anyone who understands the significance of the number 42 (and also how my brain works) will understand that this is a significant chapter. Everyone else gets one warning. Onwards. Oh, and if you've never heard Lola, by The Kinks (really good/funny song), I suggest giving it a listen either before, after, or during the reading of this chapter. You will understand so much more! But not about 42. That's different.

 

Disclaimer: I don't own them?

 

Deadly Beautiful - Chapter 42

 

by danse

 

~*~

 

None of the Maganacs or their guests got any peace or quiet on the afternoon of July 6th. It was the day before the Romefeller, Inc. dinner party, and Hilde and Iria were starting their own mission: Operation Lola, as it had been dubbed. Duo, while doing his best to see the silver lining, had joked, “You know, this whole cross-dressing business keeps getting that song by The Kinks stuck in my head. `I asked her her name and in a backroom voice she said Lola, L-O-L-A, Lola-a-a-a....'” he'd crooned. Unfortunately for him, the name had stuck, and now his codename was Lola.

 

The first and most important step, the girls had decided, was to get rid of all the unnecessary body hair. Luckily, Duo was young and not overly hairy to begin with, but that didn't save him much. His tortured screams could be heard in every corner of the compound as they subjected him to a complete leg and arm waxing.

 

While they left him to recover from that, Hilde and Iria, bubbly as schoolgirls, bounced to Iria's room to raid her closet. After going through her small collection of eveningwear, they had to dismiss it all as either logistically impossible (they'd rigged Duo a stuffed bra that, while it turned him into a respectable B-cup, required shoulder straps), inappropriate for the setting, or too wrinkled.

 

Hilde frowned. “This is no good. Even if I had anything to wear to this, I didn't bring it with me, that's for sure. If I'd known, I could have gone shopping before I came!” she wailed.

 

Iria collapsed on the bed among her dresses, rubbing her eyes as she thought. “Wait,” she said suddenly, freezing. She sat bolt upright, wearing an excited grin. “I have twenty-eight sisters--what was I thinking?” She stood up and started to pace. “Granted, I do not keep in touch with half of them, but that is still more than poor Quatre. I am sure that Jazira owes me a favour, and one of hers would....”

 

Hilde watched in some confusion, a hopeful look on her face. She had no idea what Iria was mumbling about, as she was completely unacquainted with the Winner family situation, but she suspected that their problem was about to be solved. Beckoning for Hilde to come with her, Iria left the room and ran for a phone. Hilde followed, still a bit confused.

 

While Iria found a phone in a conference room in an adjoining hallway, dialled her sister and proceeded to chatter in Arabic for ten minutes, Hilde wandered up and down the corridor with her hands stuffed in her pockets, staring at her feet and letting her thoughts wander. I can't believe I'm helping my crush dress up as a woman. This is so awkward. And yet fun. He's going along with it so easily, though. It's not really right. Then again, she reasoned that Duo seemed to act around his friends as if he had something to prove. He was strange like that.

 

Finally, Iria hung up the phone and walked back into the hallway. Hilde looked up; Iria was smiling with satisfaction.

 

“Jazira is going to lend me the perfect dress. She is almost the same size as me, so it should fit Duo as well as one of mine. Unfortunately, she lives in Al Hillah, which is a couple of hours' drive at best.” She glanced at her watch. “It is two o'clock now, so if I leave right away, I can be back around six.” She smiled at Hilde. “I think that it is worth it for this endeavour of Quatre and his friends. While I am gone, why don't you work on his nails? I do not think he will moan too much about it, not after that waxing.” Iria led them back to her room and started rooting through a drawer, finally extracting a bottle of dark blue nail polish. “I know the dress that Jazira is lending me, and this will go with it nicely. Have fun, Hilde!” she grinned, before taking off to go beg some jeep keys from Rashid.

 

Hilde looked at the nail polish, sighed, and then set off to find Duo with a grin. He should have been finished whimpering by now. Hopefully he wasn't hiding.

 

***

 

Iria got back at twenty minutes after six, carrying a dry-cleaning bag. Hilde had just finished carefully trimming the split ends from Duo's hair, taking about two inches off of the bottom, and brushing his hair until it was tangle-free. As Iria burst into his bedroom, he was busy gathering his hair into a ponytail to keep it out of the way.

 

“Victory!” Iria cried, holding the garment bag out in front of her like a trophy.

 

Hilde looked gleeful as she sprang up from the bed and ran over to look at the dress. “Oh Iria, this dress is gorgeous! It'll be just right!”

 

Duo sighed, studying both of them as they briefly ignored his presence. Finally, he got up to examine his new eveningwear himself. “Nice colour,” he observed. He felt the fabric. “Feels nice.”

 

“I am glad you like it, Duo,” Iria said, “because it was a real pain to get, and you will wear it if it kills us all.”

 

Duo winced. “Okay,” he huffed. “I guess I gotta try it on now, right?”

 

Hilde nodded. “Strip down to your underwear and we'll get you outfitted.”

 

Grudgingly, Duo obeyed, and was shortly standing self-consciously in his monkey-print boxers... in front of two attractive young women, chewing his lip furiously to 'keep the bitching to a minimum', as Hilde had so eloquently put it, as they wrestled him into his padded bra. Growling, Hilde grabbed a pen from the table nearby and attacked his hair, winding it all up into a sloppy, makeshift bun and securing it with the pen. “I had long hair when I was younger,” she said. “This was one of my favourite quick-fixes. Sorry, Duo, it's gonna get in the way otherwise, and I don't wanna braid it again.”

 

Iria was frowning, her chin propped on her fingers as she studied Duo's mid-section with a shameless intensity that made him blush. “Do you have any other underwear?” she asked. “Boxers will not work with this dress. They will show through.”

 

Duo stammered, not knowing what to say to such a personal question. “I-um-well... let me check?” He turned to his bag, sifting through it slowly.

 

Dumbfounded by his sudden, inexplicable shyness, Hilde brushed him aside to search his bag herself. “It's cool, Duo,” she said when he looked about to protest. “No one cares. We won't tell anyone.” She smiled.

 

A little more digging on her part turned up what Duo had dreaded her finding. “Well,” Hilde managed, her lips twitching as she tried to suppress her laughter. “I guess this will be sufficient. We'll just give you a little privacy to put them on, hmmm?” She winked.

 

Duo turned scarlet and grabbed the thong away from her, giving both girls a death glare that sent them into the hallway quickly. The door did nothing to mask the peals of laughter that started on the other side. Growling as he changed his underwear, Duo pulled on the dress immediately after so that they wouldn't see anything he would regret.

 

“Is it safe to come back in?” Iria asked through the door.

 

“...Yes.” Duo was mortified by everything that had happened to him so far that day.

 

The dress had a high collar, not unlike a mock turtleneck, and was sleeveless. It was floor-length and satiny, and the colour was the same as the nail polish that Hilde had already expertly applied to Duo's nails. The rich blue was shot through with silvery threads so that it sparkled where they caught the light. Duo fidgeted while Hilde zipped it up in the back, and then the girls stood back to survey their work so far.

 

The collar covered Duo's Adam's apple, and there was no fear of any of his underwear showing. His `breasts' looked realistic under the fabric, except for a lack of natural movement that hopefully wouldn't be noticed. Unfortunately, although Jazira's body wasn't very curvy, and therefore the dress had straight lines, Duo didn't have quite enough hip to fill out the middle of it properly. Also, Iria had forgotten that the dress was slit on one side halfway up the thigh. “It is a good thing that we waxed your legs, Duo,” she said, kneeling to examine the skirt. “I was thinking that this dress was an A-line.” Duo had no idea what an A-line was. “You are going to have to wear pantyhose.”

 

Duo looked down at his exposed leg. “What's wrong with my leg?” he demanded. “I have a bit of a tan. There's no hair.”

 

Iria sighed. “You cannot attend a formal event with bare legs. It is a no-no.” Bracing her hands on her thighs, she stood up slowly. “You are not much taller than me; I might have some that will work.” She left his room to go down the hall to her own. Hilde followed, dragging Duo behind her, although he was still in the dress and might have been seen by anyone happening by.

 

Iria already had a drawer open in her dresser and was looking through it. “Do you think black or nude, Hilde?” she asked.

 

Duo stared.

 

Hilde looked him up and down. “For a dinner party? Is there going to be dancing?”

 

Iria frowned. “I don't think so....”

 

“In that case, nude,” Hilde said. “Black would be better for dancing.”

 

Iria smiled at her in total agreement and then threw an unopened package of skin-coloured nylons at Duo. “Put those on, Duo,” she commanded.

 

He groaned, but he ripped open the plastic obediently. At least he wasn't going to have to dance while dressed as a woman. He didn't know what he'd do if it came to that.

 

***

 

Heero glanced at his watch and then looked back at his crossword. He was ready to go and his suit was starting to stifle him in the dry, desert heat. It was the morning of July 7th, just before noon, and wheels-up was scheduled for twelve-thirty.

 

He and Duo would be leaving via helicopter at that time for a rendezvous on the outskirts of Paris, where a Maganac contact already in place would receive them and lend them transportation. Heero was driving, against Duo's protests. They expected to be at the party by six-thirty, and they were expected to collect intelligence on OZ and Romefeller, mostly.

 

Trowa had suggested that if they had a good chance, the proposed hit should be on Dekim Barton, one of the most important men in the Romefeller corporation. Wufei had protested this heartily, but was overridden four to one and had to keep his thoughts to himself. So the hit was on Dekim Barton, and they were leaving now in a little over twenty-five minutes, and Duo still wasn't ready yet. Did they convert his brain into a woman's, too? he thought sarcastically, just as the curtain to the room he was waiting in was pushed aside.

 

Iria came first, followed by Hilde, who was dragging someone by the hand. When all three of them were in the room, Heero just stared, at a loss for anything else to do.

 

Duo looked pretty good, for a twenty-four-hour transsexual conversion. His dress suited him, and although Heero could tell that the fit wasn't great around the middle, he didn't think anyone would notice. Duo's slender, muscular arms didn't look too butch for the costume. He was holding some long, silky-looking, white gloves in one hand. Heero saw that his fingernails were painted and that he was wearing white high heels that peeped out from under the skirt.

 

His hair and makeup were what made it, though. Blush tinted his high cheekbones, frosty, light blue eyeshadow was visible behind his mascara-ed eyelashes, and from the look of it, he was wearing a light coat of caramel-coloured lipstick. Thin ringlets of curled hair fell on either side of his face around feathered bangs, and the rest was coiled neatly into a mature-looking up-do behind his head. His light brown hair shone with natural, auburn highlights that no one had ever known were there. The girls had even added clip-on earrings and some bracelets and rings to complete his outfit.

 

Heero stood up, walked over to Duo, and inspected him more closely. “Did they pluck your eyebrows?” he asked wonderingly.

 

“Yes,” Duo snapped, glowering at him and turning a furious red.

 

“What do you think?” Hilde asked Heero proudly, elbowing Duo.

 

Heero pursed his lips and nodded, his eyebrows raised in a face of surprised approval. “He looks like a girl,” he answered.

 

“That's all you got for me?” Duo snipped, looking kind of annoyed.

 

Heero offered an arm jokingly. “If I was a high-school jock at prom, I'd be getting slapped right now,” he said.

 

“I'd just knee you in the balls,” Duo assured him.

 

Heero lowered his arm.

 

“Now boys, play nice,” Hilde said, slipping between them to face Duo. “Here's your shawl and your bag,” she said, giving him both items. “You've got lipstick in there to touch up after dinner, and you will need to do that. Just say you're going to powder your nose, that's the normal excuse. And do your best not to mess up any of the rest of your makeup, because you probably won't be able to fix it yourself. Alright?” She gave him a hug. “Be careful, guys.”

 

Iria came forward to give Duo a hug, too. “You'll fool them all,” she said happily. “Good luck.”

 

And with that, Duo and Heero left the building to go meet their helicopter.

 

***

 

“Fuck, it's messing up my hair!” Duo yelled, putting his gloved hands to his head as he scurried out of and away from the helicopter, nearly tripping in his heels as he tried to protect his hairdo from the breeze of the whirling blades. Heero followed at a more sedate pace, chuckling.

 

He caught up to Duo at the car they were going to take: a shiny, silver BMW. Duo was smoothing his hair out, looking severely inconvenienced by life in general. Heero opened the door for him and was ignored as Duo crawled inside, awkwardly smoothing his dress underneath him. Heero got in on the driver's side and started it, loving the smooth purr of money under the hood. He backed out of their parking spot silently as Duo rearranged himself in the seat and put on his seatbelt.

 

“So,” Heero said, turning onto the road that would take them into Paris. “How does it feel to be a woman?”

 

Duo leaned back into the seat and closed his eyes. He wanted to rub them but knew better. “I have a lot more respect for what they go through to look good,” he sighed. “The mascara was evil, and so was all the hair removal. And this bra feels like murder! It itches.” He rubbed his back against the seat as he spoke.

 

Heero grinned, glancing behind him as he changed lanes. “So our story,” he prompted.

 

“I've been thinking about it,” Duo replied. “My name, I guess, is Lola, or at least I'm already getting used to being called that.” He scowled. “I have laryngitis, so I refrain from speaking above a whisper.”

 

“Can you manage a girly whisper?” Heero asked cheerfully.

 

“Hell no. My whispering will be limited to talking to you. And what's our group cover story?” he asked.

 

Heero considered it. “I work for Romefeller, in... international relations. I don't speak a lot of English--that'll keep us uninteresting. We came in place of my boss, who couldn't come due to his sister being in the hospital.”

 

“Sounds reasonable to me, but scrap the non-English part,” Duo said. “We'll keep it low-key.”

 

“Alright,” Heero said agreeably.

 

They were both silent as the car reached Paris, watching the buildings go by in the late afternoon. Duo finally broke it, staring out the window as he talked. “Did it strike you as odd that the man Trowa suggested we take out has the same last name as he does?”

 

Heero's expression became grim. “Yes, it did. But that's Trowa's business and not mine.” He turned left at a traffic light.

 

“Hmmm,” was all Duo said in response. They continued on.

 

When they pulled up in front of the estate where the party was being held, a boy of about their age in a dress jacket tapped the driver's side window. “I'll park ze car,” he said. He looked bored. Heero looked around the valet and saw two others like him sitting on deck chairs beside the front gate in front of a board full of keys.

 

Heero smiled, leaving the car running for the valet as he got out, moving around the vehicle to open Duo's door. Both were in character now; Duo accepted Heero's hand and gave him a charming smile as he gracefully slipped out of the car, carrying his shawl and bag. Heero shut the door behind him, took the light blue, beaded, purely decorative shawl, and draped it around Duo's shoulders before offering his arm. Duo accepted it like it was the most natural thing in the world to do, and they advanced toward the front gate as a couple.

 

“Don't walk too fast,” Duo hissed through the side of his mouth at Heero. “Haven't quite got the hang of these shoes yet.”

 

Heero raised his hand to his mouth, pretending to stifle a cough instead of laughter.

 

A butler at the front door smiled at them in greeting and asked for their invitation. Duo noticed that he was wearing an earpiece, and scanned his jacket for strange bulges while Heero presented the card. “Hikaru Midorikawa and Lola Descharmaines,” he said calmly. Duo noted that he was using the same alias that he had at Clearwater Academy, when they'd first met face-to-face. And that he'd turned Duo into a Frenchwoman without his consent.

 

The butler smiled again more beatifically, gesturing them inside. “Jean is right there, he will announce you. Please, right this way, Monsieur et Mademoiselle.”

 

And so, the couple walked into the world of the upper class and were announced as members of it. They made the rounds, shaking hands and talking (well, Heero was talking), sipping champagne and eavesdropping as much as possible as they played the role of a couple wanting to break into this high society.

 

It took Heero ten minutes to locate Dekim Barton from Trowa's description. He nudged Duo. “Eleven o'clock,” he muttered. Duo looked, his eyes going wide as he found the man who Heero was talking about.

 

“That old guy talking to the guy in the blue uniform?” Duo whispered, risking quick glances at the two men as he spoke.

 

Heero nodded affirmatively. “That's Dekim,” he said.

 

Duo gave him a look that clearly said, `What now?' Heero shrugged, taking Duo by the elbow and gently leading him through the throng of people to the hors d'oeuvres table, which was about four feet away from the other two men.

 

Duo observed the men over Heero's shoulder as he bit into a quiche. “The young guy has forked eyebrows,” he whispered suddenly.

 

Heero raised an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”

 

Duo put down his half-eaten quiche and with a surprisingly graceful twirl, had reversed his position with Heero's and was pushing him lightly across the room as he grinned widely at an unknown joke, giving Heero a good view of the man he was talking about.

 

“Sonofabitch, he does,” Heero mused. He froze suddenly, nearly tripping Duo and catching him by the arms absently. He looked down at his cross-dressed partner. “Didn't Wufei mention something about a guy he thought we should take out?”

 

Duo frowned. “It was like French or Russian or something.... Treize....”

 

“Treize Kushrenada,” Heero said suddenly, his memory jogged. “I think that's him. Wufei said something about his eyebrows.”

 

Duo backed up a half-pace, discreetly shaking off Heero's hands, which were still resting on his elbows, and as he smoothed out his long gloves, he studied Heero's expression. “So what do you want to do about it?” he asked quietly. “We agreed to go after Dekim. We don't even know what Treize's deal is.”

 

Heero frowned thoughtfully. “You're right,” he said. “Proceed as directed.”

 

A butler appeared at the entrance to the parlour, clearing his throat to speak to the crowd. “Dinner is being served in the dining room. Will the ladies and gentlemen please proceed to their seats to begin the meal.” He smiled and repeated himself in French, and everyone began to file into the next room.

 

The dining room was more of a hall. An enormous mahogany table dominated it, twenty chairs on each side. The crystal reflected the light of the candles along its length, creating a mesmerizing, sparkling effect.

 

Heero found their name cards and pulled out Duo's chair for him. Duo sat down with a slight nod and a smile, putting down his bag under the chair and folding his gloves on top of it. Hilde had informed him that he had to take them off for dinner. Heero took his shawl and draped it across the back of the chair for him before sitting down himself, to Duo's left.

 

Duo tucked his loose tendrils of hair behind his ears, his persona starting to weigh on him fully. Noticing that his hands shook a little, he folded them in his lap, sitting primly upright. Heero shot him a glance and frowned; he'd seen the shaking. He reached over and patted one of Duo's hands, giving him a steady, reassuring look. Duo returned it, trying to breathe.

 

By then, all of the other dinner guests had made their way into the dining room and seated themselves. Dekim and his wife sat on the other side of the table, one seat to Heero's left. To Duo's utter chagrin, Treize was right beside him. Just as he was giving the man a look of abject horror, Treize turned to meet his gaze. Duo looked away quickly, focusing on some woman's ridiculously expensive diamond necklace.

 

“And you are...?” Treize asked, drawing Duo's gaze back to him as he studied Duo's face.

 

Duo's eyes widened and he blushed, giving Heero a sharp nudge.

 

“What?” Heero said, switching his attention from the person whom he'd just been talking to. “Oh. My apologies, this is Lola Descharmaines, and I am Hikaru Midorikawa. I work in international relations for Romefeller. We're here in my employer's place; he had something pressing to take care of tonight.” He extended his right hand around Duo, which Treize shook, giving Duo a curious look. “Lola has a bad case of laryngitis; she's trying to refrain from speaking,” he explained.

 

Understanding dawned on Treize's face. “Ahhh, I see.” He picked up Duo's hand, holding it up to his lips. “It's a shame I won't get the pleasure of hearing your sweet voice this evening, Mademoiselle,” he purred before kissing it lightly.

 

Duo blushed again, completely weirded out.

 

“So you're Japanese then, Mr. Midorikawa,” Treize said, leaning around Duo to address Heero once more.

 

“Yes, I am,” Heero answered, looking a little puzzled.

 

“Ore mo Nihon ni sugoshimashita yo.”

 

Heero looked floored. “Ah, sou desu ka,” he responded shakily.

 

Duo had absolutely no idea what was going on. He gave them both an unsure look.

 

“I'm sorry, Mademoiselle, you don't speak Japanese, do you?” Treize apologized.

 

Duo shook his head, his eyes fixed on Treize's.

 

“I was merely telling your escort here that I have also spent some time in Japan,” he said genially. “Fascinating culture. Beautiful language.”

 

Heero nodded his head nervously, a shaky attempt at a bow. “Th-thank you, sir,” he stuttered. This guy is a piece of work, he thought, suddenly not so confident in their disguise.

 

He glanced up at the table and saw Dekim giving them all an interested look, which was cut off when the first course came.

 

***

 

Duo hadn't realized until he saw a bowl of soup set in front of him that this meal was going to be the hardest part of the evening, including killing Dekim, however they were going to do that. He'd known that he'd have to be on his best mealtime behaviour, as his table manners were generally not all that genteel, and he was pretending to be a cultured woman. It hadn't set in until he saw food in front of him and his stomach let out a happy growl that he was probably going to go hungry tonight, by his standards.

 

I have to be careful how much I eat, he thought, glancing around the table at people picking up their soupspoons. Probably have to leave food on every plate.... He sighed inwardly, picking up his spoon. At least having Treize practically breathing down his neck had made him lose his appetite somewhat.

 

Between the last course of the meal and the coffee, Duo excused himself to the bathroom, picking up his bag. He walked slowly down the hall, relishing the moment of solitude as he listened to his heels clicking on the floor.

 

This estate obviously hosted a lot of parties of this kind, because the main floor had two large bathrooms side-by-side, one marked for each gender. Duo stopped and stared at the doors in confusion. He hadn't really been thinking about the consequences of doing this at all, had he? With a deep breath, he clutched his purse and pushed open the door to the ladies' room.

 

The inside was polished white marble and brass fixtures. A woman in a maid's uniform stood just inside the door, next to a small pile of fresh towels, and gave Duo a charming smile. He returned it, trying not to look too impressed with the setup, and strolled confidently over to the counter to fix his makeup.

 

As he checked his hair and makeup in the mirror, he couldn't help but notice how many women were in the room, chatting casually as they readjusted their dresses and fixed their hair and used the toilet, completely trusting of being entirely in their own company. Imagine that, he thought with a slight smirk as he opened his lipstick and leaned forward to apply it. I wonder if actual transsexuals use the public restrooms. I wonder if any of these people have ever stopped to think about that. Lipstick done, he rubbed his lips together lightly and pressed a clean tissue between them, like Hilde had shown him.

 

Smoothing a loose strand of hair back into place, he checked himself out in a full-length, gilt-edged mirror in the corner. Wow, I do look pretty convincing! he thought, checking out his costume for the first time. He suddenly had more faith in his ability to stick the mission out. With fresh resolve, he washed his hands with scented soap, accepted a towel from the maid, and discreetly checked out a blonde in a black, backless number who was fixing her stockings as he left the bathroom.

 

***

 

When he sat down at the table again, the coffee had already arrived and the atmosphere was much more relaxed than it had felt earlier. Heero smiled at him when he sat down again, and Duo smiled too because he'd noticed that Treize had wandered to the other side of the room.

 

Duo shunned his coffee and put his evening gloves back on to hide his somewhat inelegant hands. He leaned forward with the intention of speaking to Heero quietly, but Heero just shook his head slightly and took Duo by the hand, leading him out of the room without a word. Confused as all hell, Duo grabbed his things and followed, wondering where they were going.

 

A few minutes later, they emerged through a patio door onto a moonlit terrace, which led into the estate's back garden. A few couples roamed about, and some people talked in small groups as they drank their coffee or nibbled at desserts. Heero continued to lead Duo gently by the hand as they walked to a fountain in the back corner. Heero stopped at the edge of the fountain farthest from the house and turned to face Duo, his arms crossed casually over his chest.

 

“I figured this would be a better place to talk without being overheard,” Heero explained, his voice partially obscured by the noise of the falling water.

 

Duo had to admit, it was a good idea. “How did you know this was here?” he asked.

 

“I didn't; I knew that there was a garden and I figured it would probably have somewhere discreet to talk. Then I saw the fountain.” Heero shrugged.

 

His cleverness was infuriating sometimes.

 

“So,” Duo said, getting to business, “did you have anything in mind for the job?”

 

“I already took care of it, actually,” Heero said.

 

Duo stared.

 

“I went to the bathroom too, while you were attending to your girly things. On the way back to my seat, I passed Dekim's and slipped a cyanide tablet into his coffee.”

 

Heero had apparently thought of everything, but Duo saw a slight problem with the plan. “I didn't see him at his seat when I came back. There were a couple cups of coffee there, though. Or, wait--one was tea.”

 

Heero nodded. “He wasn't at his seat when I slipped in the cyanide, either. That was maybe a minute before you came back. I think the tea belonged to his wife; it was in front of her chair.”

 

Duo thought about it and frowned. “So, then... he's probably drinking it as we speak.”

 

“Probably,” Heero said.

 

Duo wrapped his shawl tighter around his arms, like it was going to give him any protection against the cool night air. Everything was quiet and still, and then suddenly Heero had grabbed him, and he found himself pressed against Heero's shoulder, his eyes as wide as saucers.

 

“Someone's coming this way,” Heero whispered in his ear.

 

Duo understood, and forced himself to relax, raising his arms from where they were pinned to his sides and placing them lightly on Heero's back. He could feel hard, sinewy muscles through the suit jacket, and as he cautiously rested his head on Heero's shoulder, he could smell an enticing mix of the garden's night-blooming jasmine and Heero's aftershave. Their bodies were close enough together that his fake breasts pressed against Heero's flat, muscular chest. Duo felt so tired....

 

“I-um-I'm sorry if I'm, uh, interrupting anything,” a strange male voice stuttered. Duo froze, shaken from his strange reverie, and turned to see who was talking as he and Heero released each other. It was a young man from the dinner.

 

“What's the matter?” Heero asked, his voice tense.

 

“Mrs. Barton collapsed. Someone called an ambulance.”

 

Both boys gave the man a shocked look. It was genuine; this was not how it was supposed to go.

 

“What happened to her?” Heero asked urgently.

 

“I don't know.... She-she took a sip of her coffee and then she was on the ground!”

 

Fuck, the two spies thought simultaneously.

 

They followed the messenger into the house, and met mass panic and disorder. Dekim was on the floor, cradling his young, dead wife's head in his lap. Treize knelt beside him as they conferred. Everyone else was either standing around looking pale, crying hysterically, or frantically calling people on their mobile phones. The ambulance showed up at the front door and some paramedics carted away the body, Dekim drifting after them.

 

Heero sat down heavily in a chair, and Duo stood awkwardly beside him. “They switched seats,” Heero said simply, feeling like an ass.

 

“It's okay,” Duo said softly, patting his shoulder. “Honest mistake, really.”

 

“Terrible tragedy,” came a voice from behind them. They both jumped; it was Treize. He walked up and took a seat next to Heero. “Looks like someone poisoned her coffee. It's all over the floor now, but they're going to send some in for tests. My guess is that it was cyanide. Nasty stuff. But,” he said, softly and dramatically, “why would anyone want to go to the trouble of poisoning such an innocent and benevolent woman?” He shook his head sadly. “Such a waste.”

 

“Yes, it is, isn't it?” Heero said.

 

As they collected the car and drove back to the helicopter pad, both teens were quiet. Heero was brooding about his botched homicide, which was not only understandable, but absolutely expected from him. Duo figured he was probably doing his best not to drive them straight into a building out of anger.

 

Duo, on the other hand, had already forgiven, and moved on from, the incident. He was staring moodily out of the passenger window, his chin in his hand, wishing he could sit in the backseat or something, just to put more distance between him and Heero than the stick shift. Their sudden embrace in the garden had done very bad things to his emotional stability, because it had brought back in sharp relief his disturbing dream about Heero from a few nights prior. He hadn't realized how shapely Heero's back would feel under his fingertips, or how Heero's hair could tickle his nose like that. Or how quickly he could relax in the other boy's embrace, soaking up his body heat. He wondered what kind of aftershave Heero used.

 

He was never going to like the smell of jasmine again.

 

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A/N: I am so goddamn evil. I love it. Please comment.