Author: PlaidDragon
Pairings: 1+2
Warnings: Yaoi, humor, suspense
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing and its original characters do not belong to me.
Something Wicked This Way Comes...
Heero paused, fork halfway to his mouth. Something was in the air. Something... odd. Something... strange.
His eyes shifted left to right. Nothing visually unusual. Wufei snorted and glared at the notebook next to his bowl, probably reading the latest propaganda. Duo and Quatre had their heads together, smirking and giggling over something. Trowa ate silently and deliberately while rolling a pair of ben-wa balls around and around in his hand.
Just a usual morning with all five ops in residence.
So why did Heero suddenly have the feeling of someone walking on his grave? He rolled his shoulders; whatever it was, he wished it would quit it. He returned his attention to his food. A few minutes later, Wufei left the room, followed shortly by Trowa.
Something in the air... changed.
Heero looked up...
...only to find Duo and Quatre gazing at him with looks that could be described as... intense.
Looks that could be described as... calculating.
Looks that could be described as you-hold-him-down-while-I-get-the-(fill in the blank).
Unfortunately, Heero's mind was already filling in the blank and not finding any of the choices good. He swallowed. Time to get the feet involved.
Heero stood up and headed for the sink to dump his dishes. "I'll be in Wing," he muttered as he went past the scary two-some.
He was just about to congratulate himself on a timely escape when Quatre said, "Do you need any help, Heero?"
"Uh... No; thanks."
"You sure? Two heads, and all that..." That was Duo.
"No, I'm sure. It's... um... a one-man job," was all he could think of to say.
"Okay," they said brightly in unison, and watched him make his exit.
Heero felt like someone had stapled a bulls-eye to his back. He could hear the tone of the crosshairs lining up. They were smirking for godsake! Giggling together! And there he sat; fat, dumb and happy in his oblivion. God, if J ever got wind of this, he'd laugh himself into a damn coronary. Not that that would be a bad thing... Heero just preferred not to be involved.
He was in midair on the winch line, when he remembered that his notebook was still in his bedroom. Fuuuuck... Did he really need the computer? ...*sigh*...
Yes, he did.
Dammit.
Discretion being the better part of valor and all that crap, Heero chose to use the back entrance to retrieve his notebook. What the hell, he'd scaled the insides of elevator shafts and missile silos, climbing in the second floor window of his bedroom was nothing.
Or it should have been.
"Hi, Heero. I thought you were going to work on Wing." Duo stood at the foot of his bed, tidily folding Heero's clean laundry.
"...."
Duo raised one eyebrow. "Are you stuck or something? Need a hand?"
"No, I'm fine," Heero muttered, climbing the rest of the way through the window. No point in throwing himself off the side of the building; it was only twelve feet down.
He sighed and crossed to his desk. "I just needed my notebook."
"You know, I thought you must have forgotten it, when I came in and saw it there." He gathered Heero's neatly-folded underwear and tucked it into the dresser drawer. "You going back out the window?"
He knew when he was out-flanked. "No, I'll use the stairs."
"Okay, Heero. See you later."
The look that accompanied that benign statement sent a chill up his spine. "Um... Yeah..." He beat a hasty retreat from the room.
God, that was close!
"Hi, Heero. I made you a snack to take back with you." Quatre met him at the bottom of the stairs and offered him a Tupperware bowl.
"Um... Thanks, Quatre..." Don't even bother trying to get out of the house without it; you will be hungry later, said the look on Quatre's face.
"You're welcome, Heero. Have a nice afternoon."
Good thing he didn't chew gum; he might have swallowed it and choked to death.
Ohgodohgodohgodohgod....
It took some effort, but he managed to lose himself in the inner workings of his Gundam, and finally the hours flew by. All too soon it was time to go back to the house. Pausing just outside the kitchen door, he smelled hoisin sauce; Wufei must be cooking. He breathed a tiny sigh of relief and pulled the door open.
...to find Duo and Quatre executing a coordinated ballet of kitchen wizardry.
Quatre was at the stove, while Duo was chopping vegetables and slicing meat, flipping the pieces into small bowls as he went along for Quatre to add to the stirfry.
Heero stared.
"Oh, hey Heero," called Duo as pieces of carrot plunked into a bowl. He turned to the startled man, big-ass razor-sharp knife in hand. "You like crispy beef, don't you?"
"...yeah..." he managed to say.
"And I know you like rice balls," added Quatre with a smile.
"...yeah..."
Duo came to take his hand, pulling him into the room with a smile. "Well, you go get cleaned up, stinky; this'll be ready in about 10 minutes."
"...yeah..." Duo put his free hand in the middle of Heero's back and shoved him gently through the doorway into the living room.
For a moment, Heero just stood there, blinking.
Oh, shit...
Trowa walked past him on the way to the stairs. "I warned you, man," he muttered as he went by, shaking his head mournfully.
Wufei came from the downstairs bathroom, folding his sleeves back down. "What part of 'not a smart idea' did you not understand, Yuy?"
Heero swallowed and fled up the stairs to the shower.
He could gather his stuff and leave... He could keep in touch by email and secure phones...
"It's too late, Heero," said Trowa, leaning against the doorjamb.
"That it is, Yuy," said Wufei shaking his head.
"I... I didn't think..."
Wufei snorted. "No shit, Sherlock!"
Trowa just looked... disappointed.
"You have to help me!" Heero hissed at them.
Wufei held up his hands, shaking his head. "You were warned, Yuy; nothing we can do now."
"He's right, you know; once they're on the scent, you're history," sighed Trowa sadly.
"It was nice knowing you, Yuy," smirked Wufei turning back to the stairs.
"Yes; you've been a great guy," agreed Trowa following him.
"But..." Heero stood there alone in his room, a shirt twisted in his hands. Hands that could kill, hands that could bend steel bars, hands that could... could...
Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod....
I am just... dead...
He couldn't even run without giving J a good reason...
He sighed heavily, accepting his fate as a consequence of his own weakness. Heero Yuy squared his shoulders, said a brief but heartfelt prayer - to whom he couldn't have said - and went down to dinner.
The food was delicious. Everyone said so. Heero couldn't tell; all he tasted was ashes. But he was resigned to his fate and joined in the complements. Duo and Quatre beamed proudly; they didn't usually cook, so this was quite a special occasion.
After dinner came the board games and tactical discussions of where they thought it would be most productive to attack OZ. Still, bedtime came all too soon.
Trowa left the group first, stifling a rather theatrical yawn, in Heero's opinion. Quatre soon followed. Wufei left to empty the dishwasher; Duo headed slowly up the stairs, a tiny smirk playing about his lips.
Heero sat in the darkness of the living room for some time before he sighed, stood and climbed the stairs to what waited.
His room was dark; quickly he undressed and crawled into his bed, pulling the blankets close.
How much longer did he have? Maybe it would be all right. Maybe it could be worked out. Maybe he could plead insanity. There was certainly enough evidence; sane people didn't self-destruct their machines while standing within the blast range. Maybe he could appeal to the notion of 'the team.' Maybe he could get on his knees and beg. Maybe he should just get out his gun and -
The door opened. A single shadowed figure crept into the room.
Heero swallowed. Too late now. Ha! Wasn't this a laugh; J's great 'Perfect Soldier', paralyzed by indecision.
If OZ could see me now...
A moment later, the door opened again. A second shadowed figure joined the first. They crept toward the bed.
Heero's heart pounded against his ribs; he broke out in a cold sweat; his chest tightened. He couldn't breathe. He wanted to scream, cry, beg even, but it was too late.
Too late, much too late for Heero Yuy...
~*~
"Morning, Trowa," said Wufei as he ambled into the kitchen.
"Morning, Wufei," came the lazy response.
"Sleep well?"
"Oh, yeah."
"Seen Heero yet?"
"Nope."
"Did you hear it?"
"Oh, yeah."
"I almost feel bad..."
"Me too."
"But then I consider the alternatives."
"Yeah."
"Better him than me."
"I know what you mean."
They heard a clatter on the stairs and a moment later Duo came bouncing into the room. "Coffee!" he yelled. "Must have coffee!"
"Just finished perking," offered Wufei. "Trowa made it."
"Yay! You're the best, Tro!" He grabbed a mug from the cupboard and began tweaking the drink with additives.
Wufei reached around to turn the kettle on for hot water. "Quatre coming down?"
"Oh, yeah! He couldn't find his shoes."
Quatre chose that moment to come bounding into the kitchen. Wufei handed him a mug with a teabag already in it.
They sat around the table, drinking their caffeine vehicle of choice until Quatre said, "Hey, Duo, you want to help me with that hydraulic problem?"
"Sure thing, Quat! Lead on, my man. How about," he was saying as the door closed behind them, "you give me a hand lubing those..." And the door cut off the rest of his sentence.
"Oh, yeah," said Wufei with a sigh. "Better him than us."
"You think they killed him?"
"I doubt it. We'll check if his room starts to smell."
An apparition appeared in the doorway. Its skin was chalky, its eyes wild and bloodshot; its limbs shook spastically. It was wrapped - barely - in what might have once been a bedsheet. Its hair stood on end; it made a keening sound like fingernails on a blackboard.
Wufei and Trowa looked at each other, then back at the strange apparition.
Trowa just shook his head. "We did warn you," he reminded.
Wufei sighed. Eventually, he would take pity on the poor, cowering creature, but for now...
"Did you really expect that they wouldn't find out that you were screwing both of them, Yuy?"
OWARI
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