Author's Note: Since my last update took so long, I thought I owed folks a second one in short order. Hope you enjoy!
"Thunder and Storm tangled with a family of skunks this evening. I doubt I will ever quite get the smell out of the barn, to which they are currently banished. They've been howling more or less non-stop, wanting to resume their place in the nursery with Samuel. But the stench is quite overwhelming and pervasive. Even if I were inclined to ignore it, I'd hardly subject an infant to the eye-watering odor. Tomorrow I'll try Eliza's old formula, if I have any baking soda in the pantry. For tonight, however, the noise is less offensive than the smell. I wish at times like this that Jacob were here to lend a hand. I'm not as young as I used to be..."
--excerpt from the private journal of Ephraim Barton
Smoky Hills Part 33
Ups and Downs
Duo was at the table peeling potatoes to make with dinner, when Quatre came bursting into the house, his face practically alight.
"Put that away! We're going out to dinner--my treat."
"Wha--?" Duo looked up with wide eyes, a potato in one hand and a knife in the other.
"You heard me. I'm buying you dinner at Sal's tonight. We're celebrating."
Duo set down his utensil and gave his roommate a long look, narrowing his eyes. "What, exactly, are we celebrating? They make you Postmaster General or something?" He smirked at his own joke.
"I've got a date with Trowa!"
Duo's eyes went wide again. "Seriously?"
"Yes. Tomorrow."
"Wow." Duo grinned up at the blonde, but Quatre grabbed his wrist and pulled him to his feet so he could give him a boisterous hug. "Oof! Easy there!" Duo cautioned as his friend nearly crushed his ribs. "Save it for your loverboy, why doncha?"
Quatre let go, stepping back and blushing and smiling all at once. "Don't call him that--yet," he cautioned, backtracking just a little. "It's only a first date."
"Yeah, but still--" Duo patted Quatre on the shoulder. "He actually asked you out. That's awesome. Did he say where he's taking you?"
"Um--actually, we're going to meet at the library."
"The library," Duo echoed with confusion. "Why not the post office? You could leave your car there and pick it up after he brings you back--assuming he doesn't spirit you off to a seedy motel to have his wicked way with you."
"We're meeting at the library so I can look at his journals and see if I'll be able to do any restoration."
"And then where are you going?"
"Nowhere."
"Nowhere." Duo frowned at his friend, crossing his arms over his chest. "That's your date? Looking at journals at the library?"
"Well--yes."
Duo glared. "That's not a date. That's what I told you to do to get close enough for him to ask you on one."
Quatre glared back. "Don't rain on my parade, Duo. I'm spending tomorrow evening with Trowa. I'll look at his journals. We'll talk. We'll get better acquainted--and it'll be a start."
"Did he use the word 'date' in your conversation?" Duo demanded.
"Well, no."
"Exactly what did he say?"
"Well--he said you'd mentioned I did restoration work at the library, and that he had some old journals with a bit of water damage he wondered if I could take a look at."
"That's it?"
"Of course not!" Quatre said hotly, not quite meeting his gaze. "He offered to come to the post office with them, and I suggested the library because I have the equipment there to do a thorough inspection of the volumes."
"Way to go," Duo said dryly. "You had a chance to invite him here, where you might have a snowball's chance of seducing him up to your bedroom--and you picked the freakin' library?" He shook his head. "Have I taught you nothing?"
"As a matter of fact," Quatre growled. "You haven't. I don't see you luring Heero to your room with promises of--of--doggie treats for Thor!"
Duo blinked at the clumsy analogy, but he got what Quatre was trying to say. "I don't have the kind of 'in' with Heero that you have with Trowa. So far all we've got in common are two shaggy monsters and a firm hatred of Otto and Trant. I haven't figured out how to transition that into asking him out for coffee--but I'm working on it. And when I do finally ask him, he'll know it's a date--not just a book inspection."
"At least I have plans to be in the same place with Trowa at the same time," Quatre sniffed defensively. "And by the time we're done, I do plan on making it clear I considered it a date. So there!"
"I'll believe it when I see it," Duo said loftily.
"Do you want dinner out, or not?" Quatre demanded, matching Duo's stance and fixing a piercing blue-eyed glare on him.
"Sure," Duo agreed.
"Then stop trying to undermine my happiness. Just let me bask in the anticipation, okay?"
Duo's expression softened a bit. "Yeah, you go ahead and bask," he suggested. "I s'pose I'd be doing the same thing if Heero had asked me to dog-sit or something. Close enough to a date, if you squint just right."
"Exactly." Quatre gathered up the potatoes and put them away, while Duo stashed the pots and pans back in their cupboard, and then the pair left to have a celebratory dinner at their favorite place.
By the next morning, however, Duo had just about had enough of his roommate's eager anticipation. Quatre was fretting over what to wear to work, since he planned to go straight to the library afterwards, and Duo kept reminding him it was just a casual meeting and nothing to get worked up about.
Needless to say, his voice of reason was not well-received, and it made for a long morning at the office.
Duo fairly flew through his mail sorting, eager to get out onto the route by himself, where he didn't have to watch his boss get more worked up by the minute. Not that he wasn't happy for him, he told himself. Really, he was.
He told himself that both in the office, and later as he drove out onto the familiar back roads to deliver the mail.
It was just hard to be around someone so full of excitement, when he couldn't share in the optimistic outlook.
If he was brutally honest with himself, he didn't think he'd ever get up the nerve to ask Heero out. In spite of their pleasant talk at the mailbox and his brief show of boldness, when it came right down to it, he was deathly afraid to open himself up to the good-looking guy. He didn't think he could handle the rejection he expected to get.
Face it--Solo had grown up with him. They'd shared an entire childhood. There was no one on the planet who'd known him as well as Solo had--not even Quatre--and in the end, Solo had left.
Who's to say Heero wouldn't do the same, once he got to know Duo well enough?
"Everyone leaves," Duo muttered to himself, slamming a mailbox with a little more force than was necessary. "Solo--Howard--Father Maxwell an' Sister Helen-- Voluntary or not, they leave."
Of course, that didn't explain why Quatre was still sticking around. But Duo figured eventually that would change as well.
"The only thing that stays the same is this godforsaken town," he sighed.
By the time he finished the route, he'd talked himself right into a deep funk, and Quatre's cheery greeting as he stepped in the back door nearly made him groan.
"Two hours and counting!" Quatre said brightly, walking back to take the incoming mail from his employee.
"Yippee," Duo said sourly.
He got a sharp look for his trouble. "You might at least pretend to be happy for me."
Duo sighed, rubbing a hand across his eyes. "Sorry, Quat. You're right. I just did too much thinking out on the road today."
And the fact that it was coming up on the anniversary of the day Solo had left didn't help.
"I hope you have a nice time with Trowa tonight, and that he really does ask you out--on a real date."
Quatre patted his shoulder comfortingly. "Thanks. But don't sell me short here. You're my best friend and I'll be looking out for you. I'm going to see about making it a double date--you, me, Trowa and Heero."
"You don't have to--"
"If you won't speak up for yourself, I will."
"Jesus, Quat--give it up," Duo said wearily. "Face it. The reason there hasn't been anyone since Solo is because I'm afraid to let it happen."
"That's only part of it," Quatre assured him. "The lack of eligible guys around here has been just as much of a factor."
"That's some bullshit," Duo scoffed. "All I'd have to do is take a ride down to Lakeville and hit one or two of the gay bars. I could find someone, if I had the balls to try."
"The kind of guy you're looking for wouldn't be hanging around in a gay bar," Quatre said firmly. "You want something real--substantial. Not a one-night stand. You could've had a million of those. But you want more. You want a friend and a lover."
Duo rolled his eyes, and managed a weak chuckle. "Now you sound like a country song. How's that go? 'Hopin' to find a friend and a lover--'"
Quatre punched him lightly on the arm. "Stop joking. I'm trying to be serious here."
"I'd really like you not to be," Duo replied firmly. "I'm okay, Quat. Just did way too much soul-searching today, and a bit of wallowing in self-pity and jealousy because you're making much better progress on the romance front than I am. I'll get over it."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, I'm gonna go take a walk an' clear my head. Then I'll probably grab a bite at Sally's, since I expect you to be out late with your new friend." He grabbed Quatre firmly by the shoulders and looked him squarely in the eyes. "When it gets to be closing time at the library, you invite that green-eyed hunk to the coffee shop for a nightcap. And I expect you to have the next date lined up, and maybe even a goodnight kiss under your belt before you get home." He winked teasingly. "Don't bother waking me with your starry-eyed slobber, either. You can tell me all about it in the morning."
Quatre blushed and then recovered and narrowed his eyes. "You're not going to be sleeping off a six-pack are you?"
"I do not plan on drinking tonight," Duo assured him. "Like I said, I'll treat myself to Sally's cooking and then head home and maybe see about signing up for the next on-line class I need."
"Sounds like a plan."
Duo headed out the back door feeling far less discouraged than before. He wasn't sure how he felt about Quatre trying to arrange a double date. But if it meant getting to know Heero better, he was game.
And hell--even if Heero wasn't interested in him romantically, the guy had a pretty good sense of humor, once you got past the hard crust. Maybe they could at least be friends.
True to his word, Duo took that walk he'd mentioned to Quatre--losing himself for a couple of hours in the pine forest along the river near the reservoir. He looked for signs of mountain lions, noted the unfurling fronds of green ferns, and frowned a bit at how low the water was for that time of year, even after yesterday's shower. They really needed a good rain to replenish the levels in both the stream and the reservoir.
By the time he returned to the Jeep, Duo felt much more like himself. He headed for town, already anticipating his tasty meal at Sally's.
~*~
"Trowa, you've changed shirts three times," Heero said with an exasperated huff, putting aside his paint brush and glaring at his brother.
"I know--but after the clown shirt, I have to get this right!" Trowa blurted anxiously. "Is this color okay?"
"It's fine."
"Because I could change it--"
"It's fine!" Heero shook his head. "I have never seen you this wound up before a date--and it's not even a real one."
"Yes, it is. Even though I used the journals as an excuse, I'm going to make the most of it," Trowa assured him.
Thor walked over and gave a cursory sniff to Trowa's pant leg, then looked up hopefully for attention.
"Damn--are these pants okay?" Trowa wondered. "Thor must've smelled something. I wore them out to feed Leon this morning. I should change."
He headed back into the house, and Heero glared at the dog. "See what you've done? He'll probably go through three pairs of pants now, trying to match the shirt."
Thor wagged his tail and went back to lie down next to Balder on a corner of the porch Heero was painting. He was on the last section of railing, and wanted it done before it rained again.
"Hey, 'Ro!"
He looked up to see Trowa leaning out an upper story window, waving a pair of black jeans. "Are these okay?"
"The left back pocket has a tiny rip--remember?" Heero called out with a smirk. "And you better hurry! It's already four o'clock. You've only got a bit over two hours to get ready!" He chuckled as his brother let out a panicked yelp and ducked back inside. "He is so easy," he told Thor, who looked up, thwapped his tail on the floor boards, and then put his head back down on his paws.
Heero wasn't surprised when Trowa appeared at the door a few minutes later, car keys and a stack of journals in hand. "Mind if I borrow your car? I have to go to the store."
"Let me guess--you need a decent pair of pants."
"Yes, as a matter of fact," Trowa grumbled defensively. "I wore sweats most of the time I was in the brace, and all my jeans are worn out and ratty-looking."
Heero rolled his eyes. "You do know the nearest clothing store is an hour away--"
"Which is why I have to hurry," Trowa said urgently.
"Sure you're good to drive?" Heero asked. "It's been awhile."
"Actually, Cathy had me do a bit of the driving, so I got to practice up. I'll be fine."
"And how's your leg?"
"Aside from the tiniest bit of an ache, it's perfect. Stop fussing, Heero." Trowa mustered a warm smile. "I'm a big kid now. I can go to the store all by myself. You stay here and get the painting done, so you can stop obsessing about it. I'll take the journals along with me and probably go straight from shopping to my meeting with Quatre."
"Make sure you eat something," Heero reminded him. "In fact, tell Quatre you missed dinner and offer to buy some for both of you. It's the perfect excuse."
"Oh, you're right. It is!" Trowa said happily. "After we look at the books, I can suggest we get a bite together."
"Good choice of words," Heero said with a snicker. "Should I not wait up?"
"I wish you wouldn't," Trowa said firmly.
"What? You don't want the interrogation when you get back?"
"Save it for breakfast," Trowa suggested, in an eerie echo of Duo's instructions to Quatre.
"Have a nice date," Heero said, watching his brother walk briskly to the car and marveling at the improvement in his leg. It was very comforting to see the athletic man back on his feet.
With a jaunty wave, Trowa started up the car and pulled away, leaving Heero and the two dogs alone with their work.
"Just us again, boys," Heero sighed, resuming his chore.
He was finishing up, maybe a half an hour later, when the phone rang. So he laid the brush over the edge of the paint can and went inside to grab it.
"Yuy here."
"I've identified your body," came Chang's peremptory statement.
Heero's eyes widened. "The dental records?"
"Yes. The Smoky Hills police had a Doctor Schbeiker fax me over records for a 'Solo Stevens.' He's your victim, Yuy."
The Japanese man drew a sharp breath, his initial burst of elation giving way to an array of emotions. The normal rush of determination he experienced each time he began a new case was tempered by the realization it wasn't his case; it belonged to the local police, who were just as likely to bungle the investigation as not. Of course, Chang had assured him he could get assigned to it, if he chose. But there were compelling reasons for him not to.
First off, he was out on stress leave, and he wasn't at all sure he'd recovered to a point where he felt qualified to head up a murder investigation. He had no idea if he'd be able to function the way he should, if he ended up in a life-threatening situation. Granted, on a cold case like this, the odds of him encountering trouble were slim; but still, he didn't like to start something he wasn't sure he could finish.
Secondly, he was involved in the case on a personal level. Not only had his dog been the one to find the body, he also was acquainted with the prime suspect--Duo Maxwell. As Solo's boyfriend, and the one who'd filed the missing persons report, the mailman would top the list of "persons of interest" in a case like this.
Duo himself, was a third issue--one Heero didn't care to contemplate right then. But if he were totally honest, he'd have to admit to a growing attraction to the long-haired mailman that rendered his objectivity suspect, if not completely null and void.
"Yuy! Are you still there?"
"I--yes. I'm fine," Heero stammered, forcefully pulling his thoughts back to the conversation.
"I didn't ask that," came the curt reply, followed by a more suspicious query. "What's got you distracted?"
"For fuck's sake, Chang, my dog's the one who found the body!" Heero snapped. "I feel like I'm hip-deep in this case, on a somewhat personal level."
"Questioning your abilities again, are you?"
"No!"
"Of course you are." There was a vaguely disdainful sniff on the other end of the line. "That's always been your one weakness--that lack of confidence."
"I don't lack confidence!" Heero argued, as he had on a prior occasion with his ex-lover. "Don't you think I'm right to question my abilities from time to time?"
"I never question mine."
Heero's eyes narrowed, though Wufei couldn't see. "Of course not," the dark-haired man muttered bitterly. "You're fucking perfect!"
"That's not what I--"
"Of course it is!" Heero paced restlessly to the end of the phone cord. "Look--I don't want to get into this right now. I have to think about this--decide how involved to get, and where to start if I do."
"I've already spoken to Une. Her assumption is that you intend to lead the investigation."
"You told her that? You had no right--!"
"Well who else would be qualified in that godforsaken wasteland you're calling home these days?" Chang snorted rudely. "Don't insult me by letting the local fools run with the ball, Yuy. I didn't run the number of tests I did for them. I did it for you."
"Why?" Heero challenged. "If I'm such a weak-willed, insecure cop--why put the effort into helping me?"
"You know I don't consider you weak, in any way," came the stern rebuke. "Except for beating yourself up over an unfortunate incident--"
"Unfortunate incident?" Heero cut in. "I shot a little girl, Chang. That's a lot more than an 'unfortunate incident!' It's an unforgivable mistake!"
"You were exonerated by the review board. Just because she was caught in a cross-fire--"
"Stop!" Heero yelled, giving in to the anger and pain that flared whenever he was reminded of what he'd done. "Just shut the fuck up about it Wufei!" He paused, trying to regain control and loosen the death grip he had on the phone receiver. "Please," he finally managed in a ragged whisper.
"I'm--sorry," came a genuinely contrite voice. "I thought-- I thought you were doing better--that you'd put it behind you finally. You sounded like your old self the last time we talked."
"I'm fine, Wufei," Heero said flatly, finally regaining his composure. "Seriously. I am doing fine. But it doesn't help when you and Une are trying to push me back into police work. I'm not sure I'm ready--"
"Yes, but this case demands skills the locals there don't have. You and I both know it. Will you let a killer go free just so you can continue to browbeat yourself over an accident? That would only compound your guilt."
He had a point, Heero reflected. If he let himself stay so fixated on a past mistake that he shirked his current responsibilities, wouldn't that just add to the burden of blame?
"You're right," he finally admitted. "I'll--consider taking on the case. But in the interest of inter-departmental diplomacy, maybe I should let the local police try their hand first--"
"If you let them muck up the case, I'll hold you accountable."
Heero rolled his eyes. "Good thing you aren't my boss then."
"No. But I have her ear, as you well know."
"Yes, Chang. I know. Talk to you later. Goodbye," Heero said firmly, before hanging up the phone.
He stood for several minutes, contemplating their conversation--or at least the parts pertaining to the current case, rather than the reason he was on a leave of absence from work.
As he'd told Chang, he had some personal involvement with the case, and it made him uneasy about trusting his instincts.
For example, normally at this point in a case, he'd be researching the prime suspect--and yet it seemed rather like a base betrayal to go digging into Maxwell's past. The man had annoyed the shit out of him at first, but their more recent encounters had been pleasant enough. And he'd made friends with Thor--bringing him home that time he got lost and feeding him biscuits ever since.
His mind drifted back to the day Duo had delivered the registered packet of information from Chang, and he recalled the braided man's questions about the skeleton--how it had been located, and what that might mean. A suspicious man might wonder if Duo had been trying to figure out if his crime had been discovered after all these years, and what the likelihood was that he'd be found out.
Heero didn't want to be a suspicious man; but if he took the case, he'd have to.
"Fuck." He walked onto the porch, stewing over his dilemma, only to find his large, amiable wolfhound lying there gnawing on the wet paintbrush he'd carelessly left out. "Thor!"
The dog looked up unrepentantly, his grey whiskers stained white by the paint on both sides of his jaw, and thumped his tail in greeting.
"Drop it!"
The dog allowed the brush to fall to the floor with a wet plop, and lay there panting happily, oblivious to the drying paint around his mouth.
Even his tongue was coated in the flat latex house enamel, and Heero nearly groaned aloud.
"Dammit, I should've named you Loki, you big ox! I hope Trowa knows a safe method for removing paint from dog hair," he muttered, picking up the brush and slamming the lid back onto the paint. "C'mon, Thor. Let's go clean you up."
Thor stood and stretched, following along without protest--seemingly puzzled by all the fuss.
TBC...
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