"I don't know what I'll tell young Samuel about his father. Do I reveal the whole truth--that Jacob allowed his friend to die, out of jealousy and desire? That's not strictly true. From all I've read of Jacob's letters, and the journal he left behind among his belongings, he would have wished Aaron and Annabelle happiness together, had things gone differently. Aaron's death was an accident, even if Jacob felt he was to blame. I can picture the two hot-headed young men arguing and having a scuffle, and from what I know of the falls, once Aaron slipped he was doomed, even if Jacob hadn't hesitated. I doubt he could have pulled him back up on such a slippery surface. If only he'd talked to me, instead of running away..."
--excerpt from the private journal of Ephraim Barton
Smoky Hills Part 38
Saving the Day--er Duo
Duo sighed, sipping from the styrofoam cup of coffee, and looking wearily across the table at the cop he'd known since they were both in grade school. "Again, Ralph? Seriously?"
The other man scowled. "Yes, seriously. From the beginning, Duo."
They'd been at this game the entire day--Ralph asking pointed questions about what Duo remembered from the day Solo disappeared, and Duo rolling his eyes in exasperation and dredging up the painful memories. He'd alternated between irritation and outright anger, especially when around mid-morning, Ralph threw him in the holding cell while he and Alex responded to a motor vehicle accident. He'd returned three hours later, having taken his lunch break on the way back to the station.
"You could've at least brought me a freakin' doughnut," Duo said for perhaps the tenth time since Ralph's return.
"Quit yer bitchin'," Ralph growled. "You're lucky to have that cup of coffee."
Duo's fingers clutched the cup possessively. "You're lucky I'm still awake," he retorted. "And a decent meal would go a long way towards gaining my cooperation."
"Tell me what I want to know, and you'll get a meal," Ralph shot back. "The sooner you come clean about what happened, the better."
"Jesus," Duo muttered. "Okay." He thought back again, remembering his last conversation with Solo, and feeling the familiar stab of pain in the vicinity of his heart. "Like I told you at least ten times already, I was working at Howie's, and Solo came in to get a soda and some snacks. We talked a little bit, he bought his stuff, and he left. That was the last time I saw him."
Ralph looked up with narrowed eyes. "What did you two talk about?"
"The usual shit."
"And what might that be?"
"How the fuck should I know? It was nearly eight years ago, Ralph!"
"You can't remember what you talked about in your very last conversation? Try again, Maxwell."
Duo rolled his eyes theatrically. "What difference does it make?"
"A lot."
"For chrissakes--" Duo downed the rest of his coffee and plunked the cup down, crossing his arms on the table and glaring at Ralph. "We talked about Gunderson layin' Solo off, and what he was gonna do about rent money, and how long it was till my graduation so we could leave this fucked up town."
"Didn't you leave a bit out, Maxwell?"
Duo's glare intensified. "No. That about covers it."
"What about the part where you guys got into a shouting match and you told him to drop dead?"
Duo winced at the memory of his last words to Solo. "Thanks for bringing that up, dickhead," he drawled snidely, covering his pain with attitude. "Who told you we argued?"
"Howard did. Back when Stevens disappeared and you filed that missing persons report. He said you two had a lovers' spat." Ralph put just enough emphasis on the word "lovers" to convey his disgust quite clearly. "What was it about?"
"The same old shit," Duo shrugged. "Solo was talking about getting out of this dead end town, and I didn't feel like discussing it. Simple as that."
Ralph shook his head. "Wanna try again? The officer who interviewed Howard wrote down--" He paused to look over the paper in his hand. "Stevens said 'What do you want from me?' and you said 'just go ahead and leave.' And the you followed it up with 'drop dead,' or words to that effect. That ring any bells, Maxwell?"
Duo rolled his eyes, recalling the argument all too well.
"You lost your job?"
"Yeah--Gunderson can't afford hired help any more. His sons are going to pick up the slack." Solo fixed a troubled look on his boyfriend. "How am I supposed to pay for the apartment? Food? Gas?"
Duo walked around the counter, glancing to be sure they were alone before wrapping his arms around Solo's waist. "We'll figure something out."
Solo shook his head, refusing to be soothed by either his boyfriend's words, or the warm embrace. "Figure what out, Duo?"
"You'll find another job--"
"Where?" Solo demanded with a scowl. "There are no jobs in this dead-end town!"
"You--could have mine," Duo offered, gesturing around them at the convenience store. "I don't need it. I've got room and board at the orphanage. Father Maxwell doesn't care if I work or not--"
"I don't want your goddamned job!" Solo blurted, pulling free and glaring at Duo. "I want something that's not crap--like everything in this fucking town!"
"It wouldn't be forever," Duo retorted. "Just until you find something better--"
"There is nothing better! Not in Smoky Hills!"
"What about the lumber yard?" Duo asked carefully, knowing it was liable to set Solo off even worse.
"I'm not beggin' Otto's smug-assed father for a job," Solo snapped. "I'm sick to death of stuck-up snobs like him." He paced restlessly across the floor, fists clenched at his sides. "I need to get the fuck out of this town, Duo. We'll never have a future here--"
"I know that," Duo agreed. "But I've got two more years of school, and since I'm a ward of the State, I don't have a choice about where they stick me."
"I can't stay in this shithole for two more years," Solo growled in exasperation, running his hands through his shaggy bangs.
"I won't be eighteen until--"
"I know that!" Solo practically yelled at him, his face taut with anger and frustration.
"So--what?" Duo demanded, his eyes glittering with his own brand of anger. "You're gonna go without me? Is that it?"
"No!" Solo insisted. Then he paused and frowned. "Maybe. I don't know!"
"Which is it?" Duo snarled. "Yes or no, Solo?" He took a step closer, hands on his hips. "All that talk about us leaving together-- Was that just bullshit so you could talk me into sex?"
Solo tossed his head, snorting wryly. "Obviously not--since we haven't had any, have we?"
The blush in Duo's cheeks might have been anger or embarrassment. But either way, he didn't take the sarcasm well. And when Howard came striding out of the storage room to see what the raised voices were about, the braided boy's temper flared, and Solo was the unlucky recipient.
"Nice t'know that's how you feel about it," Duo retorted. "Jesus, Solo--you said you'd wait--that you didn't want to rush me. Now you're sayin' it's not worth sticking around here, since you can't fuck me--"
"That's not what I said," Solo replied quickly. "It has nothing to do with you--"
"It has everything to do with me!" Duo argued. "You're talking about leaving when you know damned well that I can't!"
"Fuck, Duo. What do you want from me?" Solo snapped. "Y'want me to crawl to Otto's dad begging for a job, and work in the goddamned lumber yard until you graduate? Fine! Have it your way! I'll fucking do it, if that'll prove I meant what I said about you--about us."
"Yeah?" Duo asked snidely. "And then you'll bitch about it bein' my fault we're stuck here. Every time we disagree about something, you'll throw it in my face--what you had to do for my sake. Well, fuck you, Solo! Just go ahead and leave, why don't you? And while you're at it--drop dead!"
Duo stormed past Howard into the stock room, slamming and locking the door behind himself, while Solo went the opposite way, out the front door of the convenience store, and out to his car that was parked at the curb.
Recalling that moment now, Duo wished for the millionth time he could take back his unkind words. But Solo had been so eager to leave, and Duo had felt trapped in the system--too young to even drop out of school and go with him. Hearing Solo go on about getting out of town had made him feel like maybe his lover wanted to escape him as well as the intolerance in the small, close knit community. So he'd blown up at him, accusing him of that very thing.
In point of fact, it was no worse than previous spats they'd had, and at the time Duo hadn't thought much of it--until a day passed without Solo calling him or stopping by to make up. He'd begun trying to track down his missing lover, only to find he'd simply vanished. And when he'd jimmied the lock on Solo's apartment door and found that none of his belongings were missing, he'd gone straight to the police, certain that something was seriously wrong.
They'd pretty much laughed him out of the station; but they weren't laughing this time.
"What's your point, Ralph?" Duo asked flatly.
"You were the last one to see Stevens alive, Maxwell. And you two had a fight." Ralph looked insufferably smug. "I'm guessing the fight didn't end at Howard's place. You went and found Solo and continued it, didn't you? Only maybe you did more than just yell at him--"
Duo was on his feet at that, hands flat on the table as he leaned menacingly across. "Shut your fuckin' mouth, Ralph! You know damned well I didn't kill Solo!"
"I don't know nuthin' of the sort!" Ralph snapped in response, standing and matching the aggressive stance. "I know you've got a temper, though; whole town knows about that! When you drove your old pickup truck over the statue of the town's founding fathers, you pretty much proved you're capable of violence."
"That wasn't violence," Duo scoffed. "That was payback. When there was a fire at the orphanage, the penny-pinching town government wouldn't even shell out a nickel towards rebuilding! Said it was up to the church to provide the financial backing--an' now there's no more orphanage at all!"
"Who'd want one, if you're an example of the kind of kid they raise?"
Just as Duo was about to launch himself across the table, there was a quiet knock on the door, and Heero stuck his head in. "Excuse me," he said politely, though the stone cold expression on his face suggested he wanted to be anything but polite. "There was no one at the desk."
Ralph scowled at him. "This is a small town. Our receptionist only works part time, and Alex is out on patrol. You'll have to come back later."
"Actually," Heero continued, crossing his arms and regarding the officer coldly. "I was looking for you. I believe you're the officer investigating the remains found on my property?"
"Yes, but I'm kinda busy with a murder suspect here--so if you don't mind coming back--"
Heero raised an eyebrow. "A suspect? How could you have a suspect when you haven't even gotten a full report on the cause of death?"
The officer snorted rudely. "Look. You ain't from around here, so just butt out. Maxwell's the last one who saw Stevens alive, and since your big-shot Mister Chang classified it as a homicide, I can't think of a better suspect."
"Doctor Chang actually classified it as a suspicious death. Until he's determined a definite cause, I think it's a bit premature to begin interviewing people of interest."
Duo wanted to smile at the handsome Japanese man, grateful he hadn't used the word "suspects," but he figured Ralph would get the wrong idea.
"And what would you know about it?" Ralph demanded.
Heero held out a badge, looking decidedly smug. "I'm head of the Homicide Department in the Sanc District. And I'll be handling this investigation from here on out."
"The hell you say!" Ralph blurted, stalking over to snatch the badge from Heero's hand and examine it. He looked up with a deadly glare. "Since when are you a cop?"
"Detective," Heero corrected him with a patronizing smirk, taking back his badge and tucking it into his hip pocket. "And how long I've been on the job is irrelevant. My boss has spoken to your boss, and he's ceded jurisdiction, since your town hasn't got the resources to conduct an in-depth investigation of a cold case."
Ralph looked a bit puzzled.
"Should I use smaller words?" Heero asked scathingly.
Duo couldn't help it. He snickered at that, quickly muffling it under a hand, and pretending to yawn. "We finished here, Ralph?" he asked innocently.
"No, we're not finished!" Ralph snapped, glaring at him.
"Yes, you are," Heero contradicted him. "This is my case now, and I'll be the one conducting interviews. All I'll need from you from now on is the use of this interrogation room as a place to meet with the interviewees. I'll try to let you know in advance when I'll be using it."
"Hey, you can't just commandeer our police station--!" Ralph protested.
"I beg to differ," Heero retorted. "I can use any local resources I require. Talk to your Chief Tsubarov, and I'm sure he'll spell it out for you."
"I will talk to him," Ralph grumbled. "I'm not gonna take your word for any of this."
Heero just shook his head and rolled his eyes. He opened the door wider and gestured to Duo. "Need a ride home?"
Duo blinked in surprise and then nodded, even as Ralph tried one last time to assert his authority.
"You can't just cut Maxwell loose like this. The Chief was the one who told Alex an' me to start our investigation by talking to him."
"Talking, Ralph?" Duo sneered. "It sounded a lot more like accusing to me."
"Well if the accusation fits--"
"Officer Kurt!" Heero cut in sharply. "Duo's leaving now. With me." He held out a hand. "I'll take the file on the Stevens case, too, while I'm at it."
Ralph reluctantly handed over the folder, his jaw set with anger. "If yer such a hotshot detective, why didn't you mention it when you brought that first bone in?"
"I was trying not to be pushy--at the time. But from now on--" Heero tucked the folder under an arm, and pointedly held the door open for Duo, who smirked defiantly at Ralph and strutted out into the hallway like he owned the place.
~*~
The moment they stepped out onto the sidewalk, Duo turned to face Heero, hands on his hips.
Here it comes, Heero thought.
"You're a cop?" he demanded accusingly.
Heero met the angry gaze and nodded. "A detective, actually."
"And you didn't think to tell me that before?"
"When? We've hardly spoken," Heero pointed out.
"I asked you that day at the mailbox if you were one of the forensic guys, and you said you'd worked with Chang."
"I did," Heero said with a shrug.
"The way you answered implied that you worked in forensics," Duo noted, pride in using what he considered a "Quatre" word seeping into his righteous indignation over Heero's omission.
Heero sighed, looking down at his feet so that his chocolate mop of hair obscured his face. "Technically," he said quietly, "I wasn't a cop when you asked. I was on leave."
"Being an off-duty cop's no different!" Duo growled.
"Yes, it is," Heero said firmly. "But if you're determined to hate me because of what I do for work--"
Duo blinked at the almost sad look that peeped from under the thick bangs. "I don't hate you," he said quickly. "I just hate being lied to--and it seems like you lied."
"I didn't feel I had much of a choice," Heero told him, gaining confidence at Duo's proclamation. "It was pretty obvious that day at Howie's that you're not a huge fan of authority figures. I didn't want you to judge me by that before you got to know me."
"I wouldn't--" Duo stopped, realizing he might have done just that. If he'd known from the beginning that Heero was a cop, he'd have looked at him differently.
And now that he knew the truth, he was surprised he and Quatre hadn't figured it out anyway. Knowing how authoritative and bold Heero could be, they should've guessed he'd had a job with some power attached to it.
"Gonna give me a chance?" Heero asked, looking straight at him now. "Or are you going to assume I'm like the morons back there?" He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the police station.
"You're not like them!" Duo said hastily. And then it was his turn to look down timidly. "I mean--first off, you took my side. In all my years in Smoky Hills, no one in the police department has ever taken my side--in anything." He looked gratefully at Heero. "Thanks for putting Ralph in his place."
"No problem. He was acting unprofessionally. He needed to be taken down a few pegs."
"Yeah, an' it was fun to watch," Duo asserted, resisting the temptation to throw an arm across Heero's shoulders like he might have with Quatre. "Hey, can I buy you a late lunch or something? Just to thank you for helpin' me out?"
Heero shook his head. "Much as I'd like that, since I'm assigned to this case, I should keep my actions above reproach. It wouldn't do for me to appear less than objective about it."
Duo eyed him warily. "Does that mean you're gonna be the next one to grill me?"
"Not at all." Heero ducked his head, shrugging slightly. "I prefer to interview people, rather than interrogate them."
"Still makes me a suspect, doesn't it?" came the rather sour response.
Heero looked squarely at the other man. "I don't for one instant believe you murdered your lover, Duo. Your reaction to the news of his death was far too painful to have been faked. Yes, I'm going to have to interview you, and ask questions that may seem rather prying. But it's all about gathering information--not looking for guilt where none exists."
Duo's jaw dropped a little. "I think that's the longest speech you've ever given me, 'Ro." He gave a warm smile. "One of the nicest, too."
Heero dared a small smile in reply. "Does that mean you won't get annoyed with me if I ask you to come back to the farm and give me as much information about Solo as you possibly can?"
"Hm. I s'pose it'd be okay," Duo conceded. "Any chance I could bum a sandwich off you then? I was serious about lunch. Ralph didn't give me anything but crappy cop coffee all day."
Heero's smile widened at his sudden success. "It's nearly dinner time. You could stay for that, if you like."
Duo smiled back. "Thanks, but Monday's my night to make dinner for me an' Quat. I'll need to do that after I get home. But I could sure use something to tide me over until then."
"In that case, I'm sure Trowa's got something in the fridge you could throw together," Heero assured him.
And this way I can spend more than five minutes in your company--maybe actually make a little progress in getting you to realize I'm interested--and maybe find out for sure if you are too.
"If you cooperate with my investigation, I might even be persuaded to make that 'late lunch' for you," he added.
Duo's grin was bright and genuine. "Then let's get going--before Thor an' Balder beat me to the goods." He practically skipped across the parking lot to Heero's car, sliding in beside the blue-eyed man and beaming at him.
"Buckle up," Heero ordered automatically, slipping the key into the ignition.
"Yes, mom," Duo agreed with a snide smirk.
Heero darted him a quick look, recalling how many times Trowa had said the same thing. "I'm not your mother, Maxwell."
"Good thing, too," Duo said cheekily, gaining confidence at the lack of real heat in the blue eyes.
Heero raised an eyebrow, hoping that meant what he thought it did, and started up the car.
"Hey, you got a cell phone I could use?" Duo asked. "I should call Quat and tell him I'm okay."
Heero pulled his phone from a pocket and passed it over. "Reception's pretty good here, but you better complete the call before we cross the dam, because after that, there's virtually no signal."
"Don't I know it," Duo agreed. "My cell's practically useless, most of the places I go. Dunno why I even bother with it."
He made the call quickly, telling Quatre he was out of jail, headed for the Barton farm to help Heero out for a bit, and that he'd be home to make supper. His boss was busy with customers, so aside from a quick "thank goodness," he didn't have much to say, except that he'd see him later.
When they got to the farmhouse, Heero led the way up the steps and fended off Thor and Balder, who were both eager to greet Duo, expecting their usual dog cookies from the familiar mailman.
"Sorry boys," he told them, scratching both big, shaggy heads. "Didn't bring the Jeep, an' that's where I stash the goods."
Heero smirked as the dogs gave up sniffing every pocket and fold in Duo's clothes and sauntered off to find other entertainment. "They're very mercenary," he commented.
"Like me," Duo grinned. "How 'bout that food you promised?"
"I'll get right on it."
Heero led the way to the kitchen, where Trowa was busily washing the breakfast dishes that had been left soaking earlier. "Hi honey, I'm home," he quipped, straight-faced.
Trowa raised an eyebrow, looking past him at Duo. "And you brought me a present?" he teased.
"Hope you like brunets," came the smooth response, as Heero walked over to the refrigerator. "What would you like to drink, Duo?"
Duo hesitated, a bit surprised by the easy banter from the normally-stoic Japanese man. "Um, soda?"
Heero studied the contents of the icebox, and finally reached for a bottle. "Will iced tea suffice?"
"Sure."
Heero took out two, and passed one to Duo. "Sorry. Neither Trowa nor I drink much soda. Mostly we stick to tea or fruit juices."
"I'll stock up for next time," Trowa offered. Duo's back was to him, so he couldn't see the thumbs up that the auburn-haired man gave Heero. "I'm sure there'll be a 'next time,' right?"
Duo looked at him in surprise, missing the glare Heero shot at his roommate.
"That's up to Duo," Heero said firmly. "He's certainly welcome."
The braided man almost got whiplash, turning back to see Heero holding out a glass for his drink.
"Uh, save the glass," he urged, waving it aside. "I'll drink it outta the bottle and not dirty a dish." He gave a cheeky grin. "I hate washin' dishes."
Heero gave a short nod and set the glass back in the drying rack. "What kind of sandwich would you like?" he asked. "There's some cold meat in the fridge--roast beef and chicken breast I think. Or I could make some tuna salad."
"Whatever's easiest," Duo shrugged. "I'm just starvin' because that louse Ralph kept me at the station so long."
"I'm sorry about that," Heero told him, beginning to pull packages out of the refrigerator and set them next to the loaf of bread on the counter. "If I'd known, I'd have come down sooner."
"Not your problem," Duo assured him. "But I appreciate the save."
He plunked himself down at the table, his gaze going from Trowa to Heero as he wondered about the pair. Were they together--as in, a couple? Or were they just friends and roommates the way he and Quatre were? He wasn't even positive Heero was gay. The Hot Studs magazine might've been a mistake--a glitch in the subscription department, for all he knew.
Trowa finished the last dish, and dried his hands on a towel, before grabbing the crutch that was leaning nearby and hobbling over to the table to sit opposite Duo. "Wanna grab me a drink, Heero?" he asked, settling back with a relieved sigh.
Heero cast a wary look at him when he passed him a bottle of tea. "You overdid it, didn't you?"
"Not much," Trowa said carefully. "Just, after all the running around this afternoon, standing in one spot sort of stiffened my knee up a bit."
Duo looked curiously at him. "Is it still bothering you a lot?"
Trowa shook his head. "It doesn't hurt much. Mostly I get frustrated at how weak the leg still is, and how hard it is to flex the knee. The surgeons warned me about that. But I hadn't counted on how much I'd feel like a useless invalid."
"You kiddin' me?" Duo chided him, keeping one eye on Heero, who was engrossed in making their sandwiches now. "Heero said you hiked out with him and the dogs to find the rest of the skeleton. And I just saw you doing housework. From where I'm sitting you don't look at all like an invalid; more like someone recovering at a pretty decent rate, who'll be a hundred percent before he knows it."
Trowa smiled and ducked his head to hide a blush. "Thanks. But you don't have to soothe my ego. I know I'm not much good around here right now."
Duo reached over and gave him a solid, stern punch in the shoulder. "Stop talking like that! You've gotta have an optimistic attitude, or you'll never get anywhere fast."
"Jesus," Trowa laughed, looking over at Heero. "You brought home a fuckin' cheerleader, Yuy." When Heero looked over his shoulder, eyes sliding over Duo before settling on Trowa, the auburn-haired man gave him a sly look. "Can I keep him?"
"No," Heero said firmly. He caught a glimpse of a startled look from Duo, and quirked a smile. "We already have too many pets."
"Nice," Duo grumbled. "I'm bein' lumped in with the likes of Thor and Balder, am I?"
Heero gave a shrug, walking over to place a plate with a sandwich and chips in front of Duo. "If you're housebroken, I suppose so. I'm assuming you are--?"
"Oh, fuck you," Duo mumbled. But it was muffled by the first bite he took from his sandwich and Heero let it slide, settling into the middle seat on the table with his own drink.
"Mmm--this is good!" Duo said brightly, after swallowing that first mouthful and washing it down with a sip of iced tea. "What did you put in it?"
"Trowa's secret seasonings," Heero said mysteriously, sharing a conspiratorial glance with his roommate that made Duo want to sigh with envy.
It was such a shame the two were obviously more than just friends. Quatre and he were the only gay guys in town, and since they were best buddies rather than lovers, it limited the playing field considerably.
"Bullshit," Trowa scoffed. "It's stuff from the grocery store. It's got garlic and onion and stuff, instead of just plain salt. Makes things tasty." He gave Duo what could have been a teasing leer as he said the word "tasty."
But then again, Duo reflected, it could have just been plain old amusement.
"So--dare I ask, Heero, why you brought Duo home? Aside from your tendency to pick up strays, that is," Trowa teased.
"He's going to grill me about Solo," Duo piped up cheerfully, gesturing towards Heero with his bottle of tea. "He promised me sustenance in return for information." He gave a wide smile. "I'm easy to bribe."
"I'll keep that in mind," Trowa replied with a smirk.
Heero kicked his brother under the table, which only made the auburn-haired man chuckle quietly and continue gazing appraisingly at Duo.
Duo, however, was distracted by the flutter of wings as Zero flew in off the porch and landed on the back of the one unoccupied chair at the table. "Hey! It's the screamer."
Zero bobbed his head in greeting and held up a foot, flexing the toes in a begging gesture.
"Aw, how cute! Can he have a piece of my sandwich?"
"A small one," Heero said with a sigh. "And watch your fingers. He can be a bit grabby at times."
Duo broke off a tiny square and carefully held it out, and Zero took it very delicately from his fingers, mumbling a "thank you" before clutching it with his claws and nibbling the meat out first.
"He is awesome." Duo was thoroughly enchanted by the friendly bird.
"Oh, don't say that!" Trowa chided. "It'll go straight to his head. He's already a pushy enough bird."
Duo reached out as if to pet him, and the bird clutched his snack tighter and gaped his beak in a "hands off" gesture.
"Careful," Heero warned. "He's a bit possessive once you give him food. And that beak is strong enough to crush Brazil nuts."
The mailman hastily pulled his hand back, looking a bit less confident. But at that moment Wing fluttered in to join Zero on the back of the chair, chattering away and doing his own begging routine.
"What's that?" Duo asked.
"A mynah bird," Trowa answered. "He's mine."
"Does he like sandwiches, too?"
"He likes anything that's not tied down," Trowa smirked.
Duo broke off another morsel for Wing, who was just as happy as Zero to devour the treat.
And when they saw that there was free food in the offing, Thor and Balder wandered over to poke at Duo with their shaggy muzzles and give him doleful looks.
"Okay--that's enough," Heero said firmly. He herded the dogs to the back door and let them out into their pen, and then shooed both birds out to the porch. "That sandwich is Duo's. Eat your own food," he scolded them, as they flew to their respective perches.
He walked back over to the table, casting an amused look at Duo, who was making rapid progress on his sandwich now that the moochers were gone. "If you're about finished, let's go into the living room. I've got a couple of notebooks at my desk, and I want to take some notes while we talk."
Duo gave a slight grimace. "I s'pose I can't avoid this forever, can I?"
Heero turned to look squarely at him. "I know it's going to be painful for you to talk about Solo," he acknowledged. "But I mostly need facts and figures, and names of friends and enemies. I'll try to keep it short and to the point, okay?"
Duo nodded. "I appreciate that." He looked searchingly into Heero's face. "And thanks for callin' him Solo, instead of just Stevens. It seems a lot less impersonal--and it always suited him better anyways."
TBC...
Back to Snowdragonct's Fanfictions Page