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Chapter 3
Day Two 00:15
Heero slept: I brooded.
It was late, and I was tetchy and disturbed. No excuse, really, for allowing the memories
to clutch long, strong fingers around my neck and choke the emotions back out
of me. But they did. Humour me while I recall how I met him in the
first place. How it all sprang from
there.
It was almost a year ago; I’d been working in the
Department for a couple of months.
Initially, I just sort of drifted there.
I’d been doing contract work for some guys - you don’t need to know
where or how I met them - and I’d just completed a couple of creative and (it
subsequently transpired) rather dangerous projects for a major financial
institution. Call me naïve, but I hadn’t
realised the rather sketchy legality of some of the tasks, nor the dubious
nature of the organisation behind it, until I was approached by a
representative of this hitherto unknown ‘Board’, suggesting that I looked at it
again from their point of view. I soon saw things in a rather different
light, and swiftly cut the ties with those guys
I mentioned earlier. I thought the least
I could do in recompense was to help the Department mop up the mess, and that
went rather well.
So it was a pleasant surprise when they asked me to
consider doing what I enjoyed so much – becoming someone else for a while,
working my way into places I hadn’t previously been invited etc - for a
living. For them. It was damned good fun! And I thrived there, though I say so
myself. The team was good - I soon
hooked up with Trowa and Quatre and Wufei as friends, and I had a healthy
respect for Relena Peacecraft as a boss.
At the very least, there was plenty going on to keep me out of trouble.
I worked with most of the other staff guys on various projects, but in those first few months I never bumped heads with Heero Yuy. I think I’d seen his name on internal briefing papers. I knew he was on weapons and suchlike; Wufei had worked with him on and off, as it was his area, too. Much of my work was involved in the preparation of missions: the evaluation of the principals concerned; the development of the right, most effective team; the ‘hook’ as I liked to call it. I monitored the progress of a mission, but I was rarely there at shoot-out time, assuming there was such a thing. I could defend myself along with the best of them, but I didn’t actively seek it. So I’d never met him, knew nothing of him except for an exemplary reputation and a certain amount of nervous admiration on the part of his workmates.
He came most highly recommended - or so Relena said,
when she first introduced us. It was a
Tuesday night, about 21:00, and she’d been on her way out of the building. I reckon everyone else had already left. I was working late again and she came around
to the office I was using, probably seeing it was one of the few lights still
on. I tended to work until I fell asleep
or got tired of whatever stuff I was concentrating on - which often wasn’t
until the small hours of the morning.
Heero had appeared at her shoulder, and he carried a
jacket over one arm. She introduced us, then looked between us, her eyes flickering. “Be nice to Heero, Duo,” she said. “He’s been with us for a while now. The best weapons expert we’ve ever had - and
a strategic brain to match. He’s on the
same mission as you, this time - though he’s involved in exit strategy, not
infiltration. You can take him through
some of the preliminary plans tomorrow, perhaps. He’ll need to know what operatives you’re
putting in, the hierarchy of the organisation that is our target. Keep it as simple as you can, OK?” She’d smiled confidently. “That strategy’s always worked for us in the
past.”
I’d nodded; I don’t think I was giving her my full
attention and she coughed deliberately to get me to look up. “Make sure you put the time aside for a
briefing, Duo,” she’d insisted. “I know
you’re possessive of your plans, and sometimes deliberately elusive. So I daresay he’ll get in your way as much as
all of us do - but you’ll live with it.”
She’d pursed her lips in a half-smile, and her gaze reviewed my habitual
lack of office uniform. That night I was
in faded jeans and a casual short-sleeved shirt, my long hair twisted into a
braid down my back. I think I probably
had a chewed pencil in my mouth and my feet up on the desk. It was my usual pose when thinking through a
mission. Someone in the past had dared
to suggest that my dress and attitude weren’t particularly good for the
Department’s image – but Relena had always been willing to show that a little
tolerance, if the job were done properly.
Anyway, there’d been no complaints for a while.
That evening, she’d been a little distracted, passing
up on the chance to scold me. Instead,
she’d turned back to her companion. “And
I suggest you watch Duo in return, Heero.
He lives life on a loud, impatient and unpredictable edge - and talks to
anyone who’ll listen about it, too. But
if he doesn’t exhaust you first, you’ll find his contribution to the missions
invaluable.”
I was just that little bit disarmed by her description
of me. Hey, I wasn’t sure it was selling
my good points for all they were worth! “And
I’d always thought you such an excellent judge of character!” I quipped. We smiled at each other, and she gathered up
her bag, ready to move on out of the building.
I waved to the new guy in a casual, friendly way and settled back to the
task in hand.
I wasn’t so bothered about this Heero Yuy on the team –
to be honest, I didn’t really have time to give it any
more thought. I was in the middle of
planning a major infiltration of a high-tech IT corporation
and I had a pile of files in front of me detailing Department operatives who’d
apparently been assigned to the mission.
I was meant to build my team from it, like the proverbial silk purse
from a sow’s ear. What I actually had were guys who looked more
like they should be modelling CK briefs than passing themselves off as
technicians; I had kids who’d struggled with programming in their basic
training and had never really progressed past Gameboy,
and I had agents who’d shown as much aptitude for blending into their
environment as an elephant in custard.
So I was weeding out the potential from the useless and developing new
identities for these people, knowing all the time that I’d probably keep them
as cleaners or something and go into the Service Department myself. Couldn’t trust ‘em to know their byte from
their butt, right?
“There are other
resources,” said Heero’s voice. He’d
appeared suddenly at the door as I cursed colourfully at the multi-coloured
files scattered across my desk. “You
don’t have to accept any of these if they’re no good for this specific
mission.”
I looked across at him, startled. I was used to working on my own most of the
time, and I’d assumed he’d left in Relena’s wake. It gave me a chance to look him over
properly, for the first time. He was
wearing well-cut linen pants and a long-sleeved dark blue shirt. Very
suitable attire for the office, I smiled to myself. Broad shoulders, slim neck,
darker skin than mine. Thick, short dark hair that reflected a purple sheen in the dim
fluorescent lights of the office and looked damned attractive against the blue
shirt. A
straight nose and a generous mouth, with the hint of sharp white teeth behind
the lips. A very good-looking man,
I appraised, but with a serious expression – obviously a man who wouldn’t get caught with his feet up on the desk,
I thought. Dark eyes –
deep blue eyes. I got caught
looking into those very eyes, and that’s where my gaze stayed. “So is that what you’d do, Heero Yuy?”
He frowned a little, put his jacket over a chair and
he walked over to me. Quite close,
really – he came around to the back of the desk and stood at my side, his eyes seeking
out the offending files. He had a very
pleasant smell - must have been his soap or his shampoo. He glanced over my shoulder at some of my
notes – hell of a lot of exclamation marks, as usual – and put a hand down to
steady one of the papers. It was a
strong hand – it looked well kept and graceful, but definitely strong.
I stared at it, God knows why, and at how close it was to my own long-fingered
hand lying beside it, half-curled round a pencil. I glanced up at his face and suddenly, he smiled,
like he’d been pleased by something, perhaps by surprise. It was only a slight smile, but it seemed
more of a contrast on his serious face than my habitual grin.
It was one of those moments that I thought only happened
in fiction, but I remember - very clearly - the feelings that his smile
provoked, because I’d never known anything like it before. I felt a warmth all
through my veins, like some kind of real-time embalming. There was a weakness in my gut like nausea,
although I knew I had an iron stomach as far as eating was concerned. At the time, I’d laughed at myself - I tried
to blame my reactions on the air conditioning, on the need for supper, on the weather, God dammit.
Ridiculous! This
guy stands peering over my shoulder and I felt like I melted into sap.
But it took me a while to realise – and admit - that I
fell for him, immediately, and in that very instant. I fell heavily and hard, for Heero Yuy.
*
I covered my disturbance well, I reckoned, and he
never told me any different. “I see your
problem,” he replied. His voice was low
and calm. Very
careful. “It’s a rather mixed
bunch, right? But I admit I don’t have
the same dilemmas that you do. I get offered
people with established technical qualifications. After all, I just need guys who’ll load a
weapon and be prepared to use it, according to my orders. Who’ll set a fuse as I tell them, then stand well back.”
“Yeah,” I grinned.
I felt light-headed. “Sounds a
lot like my job description, too.”
He didn’t exactly laugh - but his eyes flickered up to
mine and they looked warmer. They looked
interested. Shit, I nearly hopped like an Easter
bunny! “Thanks for the input, anyway,” I
said. “Guess I just like to do things my
own way. You heard Relena – I like to
work on my own at this preparatory stage, that’s all.”
“Others can’t keep up?” he smiled.
“No,” I smiled back, flushing very slightly. “Just too much of a
maverick.”
Dammit, it was like his eyes followed the words as
they spilled out of me! They were arrogant,
facile words, that I’m known for producing with alarming regularity. But he still looked amused by them. Or maybe he was looking at my mouth - at my
lips. It was a very sensual action – I
don’t know if he was aware of it like that.
My cock reacted shamelessly to it, right there and then; my groin felt a
strange, sticky tingle. At that moment,
he could’ve looked at anything of mine if he’d wanted, and I wouldn’t have
cared - my worn socks; my ancient set of bound encyclopaedias; my kindergarten
report card. Come to think of it, that
last one might have given him a good idea of what I was like - as good as any
recent appraisal on file.
I shifted my legs carefully, trying to get my
comfortable position back. He was nodding
gently at my words, but his eyes followed my movement. “A maverick,” he said, softly. “Not always a bad thing.” He glanced at his watch and looked surprised
at the time. “You want to grab some late
supper and talk some more about it?”
Did
I? I tried out that insouciant look and
probably just looked sour. I’d checked his
hand - no ring. Checked the way he
related to Relena, because she was damned hot
- but he’d been nothing but professional.
I nodded agreement to the supper.
I nodded - and I prayed.
*
We walked to the small Italian restaurant a few doors
down because they knew the staff from the Department there and because the food
was always good. As far as they were
concerned, we were just plain office workers.
I nodded to a couple of familiar waiters, but the rest of the time my
eyes were glued to my companion. The way
he shrugged off his jacket; the way he folded his long legs under his
seat. The polite smile he gave to the
wine waiter - the approving nod he gave as he looked round the décor. The menu arrived under my nose and I looked
right through it like I had Superman’s X-ray vision. God knows what I ordered! I like my food, y’know? But I could’ve asked for Table Napkins Carbonara and I wouldn’t have cared.
But we both chose a rich red wine - and the same
thick, creamy pasta. And when it
arrived, instead of eating and drinking it gratefully, we started to talk.
He obviously knew I was cleared to the same security
level, because he mentioned his involvement in a few of the bigger, higher
profile missions. Not boasting, y’know -
I’ll give him that. Mind you, he didn’t
need to - his reputation was already established, from what I could
gather. In fact, one of the missions he
mentioned was the very job where Relena had earned her last promotion. Despite myself, I was impressed.
“She thinks a lot of you, right? Calls you in on the strategy meetings?”
“Hardly! It’s only Quatre Winner who’s included
there. But I get on very well with
her. She’s fair - she’s a great
boss.” He was watching me with honest
bemusement, as if wondering how I could think him one of her bureaucrats. It was true - I could imagine him with his
guns and his bombs, but I couldn’t imagine
him in a suit and tie, office-bound. He
would manage staff well - he would have a crystal clear view of the overall
objectives - but he was a field man, through and through. I guessed that Heero Yuy lived his reputation.
I liked that thought a lot. I didn’t have much time for bureaucracy
myself, either.
“You like Quatre?” I asked, a little
mischievously. I did, of course - he was a valuable colleague and he’d become a
good friend. Nothing more, though – we
didn’t find that attraction in each other, not that either of us minded. He did get included in all the high level
meetings, and sometimes I thought he must know as much as Relena about the
mission plans; and probably more when
it came to knowing how the hell they were going to be put into practice. But I’d never known him to pull rank on
us.
Heero caught my look and raised an eyebrow. “Sure,” he said. “He’s a good friend.” And then he grinned, as if he’d seen right
through my clumsy prying. “Seems to me that Trowa Barton likes him, too. Am I right?”
We laughed together, then. It was relaxed. It was good!
*
“So did Relena talk to you about the new team? The ‘Project Team’, as she calls it?” It was about that time that the Team was
first coming together - she’d had sanction from the Board, and there was the
ripple of excited anticipation throughout the Department.
He nodded. Caught my eye. Think
we both flushed – we grinned ruefully at each other, anyway. She’d obviously asked for us both to be in
it. I felt ridiculously excited.
“It sounds good, Heero – something much more
challenging. And I know most of the
other guys she’s chosen for the top team – they’re the best to work with.”
“I’m looking forward to that,” said Heero. “Working with you.”
Hell, was everything
he said going to sound saturated with my growing desire? I felt a terrible ache inside; all I could
taste in the salad I was eating was the sharp flavour of need. Had it been that long since I dated? Since I touched anyone? Since I had some rich, wet, sticky satisfaction?
It wasn’t just that, of course. It was all about him.
Meanwhile, he talked some more about the new materials
he was testing – the chance he now had to work with some of the finest
equipment in the industry. Some high-speed, low-weight models that had been imported from
He was also intrigued to know more about my role
which, let’s face it, doesn’t lend itself to a normal job title. “I work with the people,” I explained. “Ours – and the target’s. I find out what we have to deal with – what
we need to be able to blend in with them without drawing attention. I suggest the best ways to approach people
whom we need to manipulate – what their motivations may be, what their triggers
are. I coach our people in developing
alternate personalities – how to cope with undercover work. I arrange the documents they need, the
clothes, the look, the mannerisms. Then
it’s up to them to carry out the rest of whatever the mission needs.”
His eyes caught mine – that had been happening a lot,
all through the meal. “Like a chameleon,”
he said, and it didn’t sound sarcastic, or like he’d been listening to canteen
gossip about me. “That’s quite a
talent.”
Fuck, I hoped I didn’t blush! “It’s just part of the process,” I shrugged. “Not as glamorous as blowing up strongboxes, or
like guys in sunglasses providing security for international celebrities, or
charging into riot situations, guns blazing -”
When I looked back at him, his eyes had clouded over a
little. I could have kicked myself. I’d been facetious, just like I always was,
but I’d been talking about someone else’s work, not my own. I was out of line, and I knew it. He might be really pissed with me, might
think I was laughing at his role in the Department –
“Sorry,” I blurted.
“That didn’t come out like I meant.”
I reached for my glass, to cover the embarrassment with a drink. He reached for something at the same
time. Our hands nudged knuckles.
My body went white hot.
“It’s OK,” he said, and he sounded like he meant
it. He didn’t move his hand and mine
was, quite frankly, frozen to the cloth.
Our fingers brushed against each other’s.
“Good,” I replied.
My throat was too tight to manage anything more articulate. There seemed to be a lack of blood flowing to
my heart – and a lack of breath to my constricted chest.
The waiter had been hovering for some time at the edge
of the room. By then, we were the last
ones in the restaurant – we’d definitely taken longer over a couple of plates
of salad and pasta than anyone really had the right to. We were still smiling at each other – mine
must have looked more like a grimace – when the poor guy snatched his chance
and waved the menu between us.
“Coffee, sirs?”
Heero looked at me.
It was a look of such astonishing intensity that I felt almost
breathless. His eyes were so deep that I
felt momentarily dizzy; I felt as if the floor shifted under me. I tried to put my fork down carefully and
succeeded in dropping it off the table altogether. “Coffee, Duo?” he asked, softly. How could someone put so much communication
into two such banal words?
I gazed back.
“Not here,” I replied. Hoped to
God my voice wasn’t shaking as much as my heartbeat. “Got some at home. I live just round the block.”
“I’ll get my jacket,” he said.
*
I mean, I’ve had more than my fair share of dating –
had a couple of other guys’ shares, probably.
But it had been a while since anything regular, and nothing had ever
really lasted. No-one had ever kept my
attention longer than a shared summer, or finding winter warmth in bed, or just
a few weeks unencumbered fun. It had
been several months since I’d even felt the lack of such company. And I’d definitely never felt so drawn to someone that I couldn’t hold my hands at my
sides – that I couldn’t tear my eyes away from that person, or stop thinking
about what it would be like to kiss …
But that’s how it was with Heero.
He was beside me as we walked around the block, just
kind of normal, two guys wandering along.
He had his hands in the pockets of his light-coloured pants for a while,
and he’d slipped his jacket back on as the evening was cool. His shirt was a thin fabric, and I’d seen the
line of his muscles underneath it during supper. I do remember thinking – again - how that shade
of blue really suited his colouring. I
felt shabby with my jeans and my patterned shirt – but then when I’d stumbled
into my clothes that morning, I’d not envisaged the evening ending up like this.
I felt all sorts of strange new things, to tell you the truth. Most of all, I felt every inch of him along
the shared side of my body; I was conscious of every breath he expelled into
the cool night air. It had never been
such a long and charged journey back
to my apartment.
I’d been living there since I joined the Department,
though Relena was looking into something more secure for the Project Team
members, so I’d probably be moving again in the near future. I’d always moved fairly regularly - you might
call me a restless soul. So I kept a lot
of my stuff in boxes and trunks – didn’t have much time for formal
furniture. Just needed a reasonable
kitchen, a comfortable bedroom and a top-notch bathroom with power shower, and
I was happy enough. Didn’t watch TV,
though I listened to music quite a lot; I had my system fixed up to turn a CD
on the minute I opened the front door, just to greet me with something
good. And yes you may well think, why am
I rambling on about my household habits?
Guess it’s because that’s how nervous I felt that night – nervous about
what he’d think of my place; nervous of inviting him back there, like I
couldn’t remember if I’d washed up after breakfast, or left yesterday’s jeans
out on the couch…
Wasn’t really an issue, though.
I fumbled with the key of the building to get in, and
when the lock first clicked open, even before we’d taken a step through the
doorway - that was the first time he touched me properly. Suddenly there was one of his strong, steady
hands on my shoulder, turning me to face him, then the other one running slowly
around the line of my jaw. I stared into
his eyes – they looked darker than ever.
Maybe wary.
My own eyelids felt heavy with seductive delight; my lips parted very
slowly as if to release a silent groan.
Swear to God I nuzzled up against his palm like some needy cat.
His voice whispered very gently into my ear; I could
feel the brush of his dark hair against my cheek as he leaned into me. “Tell me now, Duo, if you’d rather I didn’t
come in. I don’t know you well enough -
I don’t know if this is OK - shit, I
don’t know anything, really -“
I didn’t answer with such mundane things as
words. Couldn’t even
be bothered with a nod. Just let
my chin tilt up so that our lips were millimetres away, and I could breathe in
the warmth of his tentative whisper.
Then I opened my mouth and took in his darting tongue.
We bumped heads that
night, for sure.