bishsticks asked for supernaturally sweet Heero/Duo. This... seems like it should be longer. I had to wrestle with it a lot.

Halloween Drabble 21
Ghosts

"I can't believe the rent on this place." I turned to the real estate agent. "Are you sure you quoted it right?"

The agent nodded. "Very sure."

"Why is it so low? Are there termites? Roaches? Is the downstairs neighbor a serial killer?"

The agent laughed. "Not to worry, Mr. Maxwell. The downstairs neighbor is a computer whiz of some kind- you'll never see him."

"Then why is it so cheap?"

Sighing, the agent gave in. "Supposedly it's haunted. Previous tenants complained of feeling like something was watching them all the time. Doors closed, footsteps, those kinds of things."

"Cool!" I grinned. "Sounds perfect for me."

A week later, I moved in, delighted with my new apartment. It was big and airy with plenty of windows. I couldn't think of a less spooky place.

But things did happen, just as the agent said. The bedroom door wouldn't stay closed- even when I locked it. Sometimes when I was on my computer I felt as if someone was leaning over my shoulder. The phone would ring and no one would be on the other end.

It wasn't really creepy. In a way it was kind of comforting. I'd spent most of my life alone. It was nice to have a roommate- even one I couldn't see.

One night I woke up to the sound of footsteps in the hallway. I grabbed the gun that I kept beside the bed- but the hallway was empty, the front door locked.

"Hey!" I said to the empty air grumpily. "That wasn't nice. I was sleeping and you scared me. Can't you walk in the daytime?"

I got a distinct impression of surprise. "What? Can't I ask you to be a considerate roommate?"

Sorry, the word was soft in my ear. Sometimes I like to hear my own footsteps again.

I flattened myself against the wall, heart pounding. Was that a reply?

"Did you talk?"

Did you hear me?

"Crap! Yes! Just don't hurt me!"

I'm not going to, the sadness in the voice made me pause in my attempt to become one with the wall. I didn't mean to do anything. I was just walking. I thought you were asleep. I'm very sorry.

Damn it. Now I felt guilty.

"Uh... it's okay. Just- can you do it in the daytime?"

But you work then. I'll be quiet.

Well, he really was considerate.

"It's okay. I write books- horror stories. I think it would be fine for you to walk then. Help me get into the mood, you know?"

A soft sigh. I wondered why you hadn't moved out like the others.

"Did you try to scare them off?"

No. I like company. I just... wanted to be noticed.

"Well, if that's all you want, I'll do it happily." I headed back towards the bedroom and was faintly disconcerted to see the door open before I got there.

Thank you.

And that's how I acquired my best friend. Oh, I know it sounds odd, having a ghost for a best friend, but he was. I suppose if he'd had a different temperament it wouldn't have been as pleasant, but he was a very well mannered ghost. The bedroom door stayed closed, the phone only rang when someone called, and though I still could feel him leaning over my shoulder as I typed, it was usually because I invited him. Weeks passed and I got so that I couldn't imagine him not being there. I told him everything. We liked all the same things- the same books, the same TV shows... I could talk to him for hours.

Sometimes I wondered if he was just a figment of my imagination, created out of my loneliness, but then I doubted I would've dreamed someone like him up.

The only thing he never wanted to talk about was how he died or who he was. He wouldn't give me a name to call him by, wouldn't tell me anything personal. There was only one time I saw him exhibit any kind of poltergeist activity and that was when I happened to run into my downstairs neighbor on the steps of the building. He was a pretty charming guy for a computer geek and I admit, I stood out there for longer than I meant to talking to him.

My apartment was ice cold when I returned.

You shouldn't talk to him.

"What?" I said to the empty air as I tugged my coat tighter around myself. "Damn, did the heater break?"

Duo, I'm serious. You shouldn't talk to him. He's not safe.

I stopped halfway to the thermostat. "What are you jealous or something? The man's attractive- what's wrong with talking to him? I can't spend all my time with spirits."

The temperature dropped even more, and this time my ghost sounded sad.

Duo, please. Trust me. He's not safe.

For the first time I caught a glimpse of him, dark-haired and serious looking, standing by the window that looked out to the street.

Gorgeous, I thought. Too bad he's dead. "Look, you have to tell me why. He seems fine to me. He even asked me out for tomorrow. It's been ages since anyone's asked me out..."

You can't go!

I don't know why I was pushing it. Why wouldn't a ghost know better than I did? But I didn't even think. "You aren't my mother. I'll go if I want."

Suddenly it was like being in the center of a whirlwind. Papers flew, my kitchen table chairs fell over with a crash, the cupboard doors opened and slammed shut. Something shoved me against the door.

I'm not going to stand by and let him hurt you too!

The wind died, the air warmed and for the first time since I moved in I felt truly alone in the apartment.

"Hello?"

No answer.

"Look- I'm really sorry."

No reply.

Maybe he was sulking? I took off my coat and went to my computer. I tried to get some work done, but the whole thing just bothered me. So I logged onto the net and did some research on my address.

News stories, several of them popped up. One of the guys who had lived here, a Heero Yuy, had been found badly beaten on the front steps. A victim of one of the city's sickos. I'd read about the guy- apparently he liked to beat his victims to death. He was one of the reasons I kept the gun by my bed. He'd been at it for a while- and apparently the former tenant of this apartment was one of his first victims. Heero'd been alive when they'd found him- but slipped into a coma right afterwards. No mention of him at all after the first few stories.

One of the stories had a picture with it. Dark haired, serious and gorgeous. My ghost.

"Hello?" I tried again. "Heero? I'm really sorry. Can you tell me what happened?"

No answer.

I went to bed that night wondering if I'd seen the last of my ghost. Had I driven him off for good? I hoped not.

The next morning I had to run out for a breakfast meeting- and when I returned, my building was surrounded with cop cars. "What's going on?" I asked one of the officers who was standing by his car.

"Arrest. Guy in the bottom apartment. He's the one who's been killing all those guys."

"What?!"

"Yeah, one of his victims was able to identify him for us this morning."

"I thought none survived."

"Well, this one has been in a coma for the better part of a year. Woke up last night."

You can imagine my reaction.

I couldn't get near Heero. I tried. Thanks to the trial he was surrounded by guards and the press. I wasn't even sure what I'd say to him- I mean- did he remember what happened?

It was a month later that I opened the door to find him on my doorstep. For a minute I couldn't find my voice.

"Hi," he said, that serious look of his fading away as he gave me a shy smile. "This is going to sound a little crazy, but do you believe in ghosts?"

OWARI

 

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