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//I wake up in the morning And I raise my weary head I've got an old coat for a pillow And the earth was last night's bed// Yawning, I stretched, cat-like, before blinking my eyes open. The routine was a facade, of course. I was fully awake and completely aware of my surroundings before I began to stir. But I learned a long time ago that it's better to let people think I wake up slow. Gives me a chance to catch them off guard by being quick when I need to. So, morning again, oh joy. I sighed. Guess that means no one found me. And you know, if you asked me straight out, I coudn't have told you whether I was relieved by that or not. I mean, in some ways, a good fight would be better than this endless game of cat and mouse with OZ. It was getting on my nerves. Rolling to my feet, I stretched slowly while studying the forest around me. The peaceful scenery was totally strange to my city-boy's eyes. Just miles and miles of trees and hills and green stuff. And no one around to appreciate my witty sense of humour! Well, there were the birds, I suppose, but they sounded more interested in scolding me. Or maybe that was the squirrels. Behind me, Shinigami stood patiently waiting. My one and only companion was as out of place here as I was.
//I don't know where I'm going No destination came to mind as I rolled my blanket and picked a few leaves out of my braid. But I couldn't, didn't want to, stay here in hiding. A mission would come along soon enough, and in the meantime there had to be someway I could stir up a little trouble for OZ, or otherwise entertain myself. Time to get a move on, Maxwell. Grinning to myself, I jogged over to Shinigami and quickly climbed up into the cockpit. Being without human company for too long, though, it does two things to me. One, it makes me chatter like a monkey when I do finally get someone to talk to. And two, it makes me way too introspective about some things. I realized the latter was happening as I ran a systems check and started the power-up routines. You know, I'm not really sure what the other pilots think about me and the way I talk all the time. But somebody has to encourage socialization, and Quatre's just too polite to fill up the silence with babble the way I can. Wufei'll talk about Justice and Honour 'til the bars close down -- he did one night, too, and then had the nerve to think that my hangover the next day was from the alcohol -- but it's not comfortable small talk. And the other two . . . having a conversation with them is like pulling teeth. Painful and slow. Maybe they think I'm a nuisance. Wouldn't surprise me. Lord knows people have thought that before. But I can't help wondering, and maybe hoping just a little, if maybe they realize why I need to talk. I just need to be heard, even if I'm not saying anything deep and meaningful. Kind of affirming my existence, you know? Nah, maybe you don't. Maybe I'm just rambling to myself again. Who wants to understand a homeless street rat anyway? Don't waste your time. There's a message waiting for me when I log on to the net. It's not a mission, but something just as good: an invitation from Quatre, asking if I'd like to join him at his current safehouse - one of his father's Earth-side estates. "Hell, yeah!" I type, and send the response. Quatre's place means food, showers, and a real bed. Plus a whole bunch of people to talk to. I'd have to be crazy to turn him down. I am many things, but crazy isn't one of them. So I double-check all my sensor output, flip on Shinigami's "stealth mode", and head for the co-ordinates Quatre provided.
//I'm a devil on the run "Duo-kun! You came!" Quatre's smile is so bright and sunny I can't help but grin back at him. Not that smiling is ever hard for me, but it helps when it's reciprocated. "Oi, man, I said I would, didn't I? Shinigami never lies." I grab him into a quick hug before he can protest. He blushes, of course, but he's still smiling at me. "Some people would argue that "hell yeah" doesn't necessarily mean yes," Quatre quipped. I shrug, and glance back over my shoulder to where his Maganacs are tucking my Shinigami safely into the hangar beside Sandrock. The hangar itself is set into the side of a hill, of which there are many in this area. "Oh, well, you know me - always the street-mouth." Before he can comment, I sling one arm around his shoulders and steer him toward the house. "I'm starved, man! Hope lunch's ready!" He laughs. "Been living off your own cooking again, Duo?" I stagger feebly. "How could you tell? It's not like I'm faint with hunger or nothin'! Have I lost weight? Is that it?" I stop and turn sideways. "Do I look thinner to you? Am I losing my girlish figure?" I twirl in place, and he catches hold of my braid just before it hits him. "Peanut butter and banana sandwiches only last so long, and they're terribly slimming you know." He's laughing so hard he's turning the color of his shirt. "Duo!" he gasps. "You haven't changed at all." He tugs on my braid and I bounce off toward the house again, chattering away. Eventually, he catches his breath and starts teasing me right back. Quatre's fun that way. Takes him a while to loosen up sometimes, espescially if he's been with Trowa too long, but he can be a real card. I don't think the Maganacs entirely approve of the way we carry on when we're together, but I don't care. It's just too much fun. We spend the day dredging up and re-telling stories of all the stupid things we've done and said. Quatre tells me about the horrors of having 29 sisters, and all the crazy ways he thinks up to tease the Maganacs - he hasn't done most of them, of course, cuz there's too much respect and trust hanging in the balance with them, but he thinks about it. I tell him about Solo and the stupid things we used to do, and for once, talking about him doesn't hurt. It's almost a relief to be able to share my memories. By dinner time, our faces and stomachs are sore from laughing so much, so we take dinner out on the patio and watch the sun set. We have a little wine with dinner - just a single glass each - and it mellows me out. The sunset is beautiful, too, all reds and golds and oranges. We sit quietly together, just enjoying the scenery and not needing to talk. That's another great thing about Quatre - companionable silence. After a while, I'm leaning back in my chair, slouched comfortably. We're both staring out at the last rays of light fading down behind the hills. "Ne, Duo? It's awesome, isn't it?" I know he means the sunset and I nod, swallowing the last of my wine. "Kitto, Quatre. It's amazing." "Makes you think how intricate and ordered the world is, doesn't it?" He leans his forearms on the table, still watching the light. "Maybe there is a god that made it after all." That reminds me suddenly of Father Maxwell, and his teachings about God and creation. It makes me uncomfortable because those teachings were so hard to believe. The other teachings, the stuff about sin and divine retribution and so on, those were the ones that made sense to me.
//When you're brought into this world "Daijouba desu ka?" he asks suddenly. That startles me, and I realize I've been silent for several minutes. "Yeah," I say, still distracted. "Yeah, fine." He doesn't buy it, though. "What were you thinking about?" he asks, turning to face me. "Aw... heavy stuff, man." I shrug uncomfortably. "You wouldn't wanna know." But the look on his face says he does, even though he's not gonna pressure me about it. The sunlight's mostly gone now, but no one's turned the patio lights on yet. It's dim and grey. Seems the perfect setting for the discussion of such things, so I shrug again, and turn my chair toward him. "Well, there's a Catholic tradition that you're born in sin, and all this --" I wave a hand at the lawn and the sunset. "-- all this world is just a place to prove your worth, to redeem yourself I guess, before you die. But then there's another tradition that says, yeah, you're born in sin - cuz of original sin - but that Christ came and redeemed us all from it. So all we have to deal with are our sins, and not that first one." "And which do you believe?" he asks quietly, blue eyes watching me intently. "I dunno. I mean, I tried not to believe anything after . . . after the church was destroyed, but . . . you know, if you are born in sin, at least that would be somethin' that was mine right from the beginning. Something I didn't have to take from someone else, nothing anyone else could give me. Just mine. There aren't too many things in this world I can say that about." It sounds stupid to my ears, saying it out like that, but I don't know how else to explain. The strange thing is, he nods likes he's understanding. "Your life's been rough, hasn't it? You never talk about your past much." No, never as much as I have tonight, but something about sharing this with Quatre feels right. And that's weird and a little freaky. There's so much sympathy in his voice - real sympathy, not that "oh poor you" fake pity stuff. He makes me feel like he's interested, like he wants to be with me, talking to me.
//Well they tell me that I'm wanted But I don't have the greatest track record with friendship. People who want to be with me tend to end up dead. "Anou . . . it was life, man, and yeah, it was rough, but it was all I knew." I glance around. "Not like here, man. You got a cushy life - great support. Hope you don't take it for granted." He frowns. "I didn't choose to have this life, even though, given the choice, I probably would. But it's not all . . . cushy." He's leaving a lot of things unsaid, I know. Being the only male of thirty children has to bring a lot of pressure and responsibility with it, I'm sure, though I could never understand it all. "Gomen, Quatre, I didn't mean to offend. We all got our problems, ne? and we all tend to think that our problems are worse than someone else's." "Hai," he says with a sigh. "And I think we'd all like the chance to trade our problems, just for a little while." I can't help chuckling at the thought of Quatre running around with Solo in L2, and me livin' like a desert prince on L4. He lays his head sideways on his forearms and looks at me. "Kinduva funny thought though, isn't it? I mean, I can't see your father puttin' up with a street brat like me. And you in L2?" I shake my head, grinning at him. "Nah, I just can't see it." "Why?" he asks, his mouth quirking like he's trying not to laugh. "You think I'm too soft?" I let my gaze wander over his arms and back. "Iie. We all know how strong you have ta be to be a pilot. I don't think you're weak at all." I think a moment longer. "Just not street savvy, I guess." Now he does laugh. "No, definately not. But if I hang around you long enough, I ought to pick up something by osmosis, ne?" "Aaa. . . ." I reply, looking away. What he might pick up is the touch of death that seems to follow me everywhere, against my will. I hear his chair scrape against the concrete, but I don't turn my head. So I'm totally caught off guard when he suddenly swings one leg over mine and sits himself down on my lap. Instinct reacts before reason, and I try to get up but succeed only in knocking us and the chair over backwards. "Oooff!" "Ack! Duo! Itai!" "Ouoh . . . Quatre? daijouba ka?" The world looks kinda funny from this angle. There's a whole lot of stars in the sky. "Hai, hai," he gasps, and I realize he's laughing. Realizing how absurd we must look, I start laughing too, and soon we're both laughing our heads off. He must have told the Maganacs to leave us alone, cuz even though we're making such a racket out here, no one comes to check on us. He rolls free of the chair, and I follow him. Somehow I end up flat on my back, with him leaning over me. His eyes are sparkling brightly, like sapphires when the light hits them, his hair's a little mussed, and his face is flushed from laughing. It strikes me then just how good looking he is, and as the thought hits me, he leans down and kisses me. His lips are soft and warm and taste faintly of the wine we had earlier. I'm so startled that I open my mouth to ask why, but he of course takes the opportunity I didn't realize I'd offered. His tongue flicks against mine, teasing, and then it's gone, and he's pulling away. "What?" he asks softly. I lick my lips, tasting his kiss and wondering why I didn't just go with it, and hoping I can convince him to do it again. "Anou . . . why, Quatre?" He nuzzles my ear and sucks gently on my earlobe. "Ahh..." I sigh, squirming beneath him. "Because there's still a whole lot of life we can learn about," he says, his breath tickling my ear. "We should explore that before we explore death." That leaves me wondering if he was reading my thoughts somehow, but the thought gets lost in sensation as he kisses me again. This time, I make sure I enjoy it fully.
//I'm going out in a blaze of glory
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