"Samuel is an even wilder child than his father was; a rebel at heart. He has little use for the townspeople, especially after the well-meaning biddies in the social circle suggested I was not fit to raise him alone. They didn't come right out and say it. But their veiled insinuations that he needs 'a mother's touch' conveyed their message clearly enough. My failure to remarry after Eliza's death was always a bone of contention with many in this town. But as I've said before, the Bartons can take care of themselves. Samuel is proof positive of that. He is fiercely independent, clever and resourceful. He can hunt and trap with the best of them, even at his tender age. And he knows these hills and this land as intimately as the pumas that roam them. He's as deeply rooted to this place as I am..."

--excerpt from the private journal of Ephraim Barton

Smoky Hills Part 39
Sharing Information

Heero headed into the living room, with Duo trailing along behind him, still sipping his bottle of tea. "Sit anywhere you like."

Duo settled onto the couch, looking around at the sparse furnishings. "So...I take it Old Man Barton didn't leave much behind in the way of furniture."

"The place was all but empty," Heero told him. "Aside from some moldy, mouse-ridden items and a resident squirrel population, that is. But the lawyer had warned Trowa of that, and we bought a few things at tag sales after we got settled in."

"Didn't he have his own stuff to bring?"

Heero shook his head, rummaging on the desk for a pen and paper. "He'd lived with a traveling circus right up until the knee injury. Basically, all he had were the clothes on his back."

"Wow," Duo said with a shake of his head. "Sounds like me back when the orphanage took me in."

Heero had found what he was looking for, and settled into an armchair opposite Duo. "It was lucky for Trowa that the lawyer found him when he did. He couldn't afford the surgery needed to properly fix his knee, and was being a stubborn ass about borrowing from me. I'd bullied him into moving in with me, so I could at least look after him. And then the lawyer came along and just dropped this place in his lap, along with his grandfather's personal effects and some money."

"Enough for the surgery," Duo guessed.

"Barely."

Duo raised an eyebrow. "Barely? Old Man Barton was supposed to be loaded!"

Heero shrugged. "Maybe he was land poor. This farm is huge, but for all you know, it could've been mortgaged to the hilt most of the time."

The braided man shook his head stubbornly. "No way. Howie knew him personally. Said the old coot owned the place free and clear."

"Yes, but there had to be maintenance. For all its age, the place is in decent condition," Heero pointed out. "His money probably went into upkeep."

"Doubt it," Duo replied. "He got deals from the local sawmill and feed store--bought all the discount stuff. The man was a freakin' miser!" His eyes lit with an eager gleam. "Word around town was that his pappy made a fortune on moonshine back during Prohibition, but buried it somewhere on the place, in case the government ever came looking to seize it. I'd bet my braid that he knew where it was, and dipped into it whenever he needed something. And that means there's probably a whole shitload he never got around to spending. The man pinched pennies until they squealed."

Heero wore a vaguely bemused expression, and fought back a skeptical grin. "As fascinating as this speculation about Old Man Barton is, we really need to talk about Solo."

Duo sobered instantly, dropping his face so that his bangs shaded his eyes. "That's right. You were supposed to be grilling me about my involvement in his disappearance."

"I told you you're not a suspect," Heero said firmly. "But I do need you to help me find out who should be."

"I told you--Otto and--"

Heero shook his head. "That's too convenient, Duo. It'd be easy to blame someone you're at odds with. But I don't want to take a chance on overlooking the real killer by adopting tunnel vision. I need to examine all possible suspects--anyone who might have had a grudge against Solo."

Duo snorted wryly. "Take your pick," he muttered.

"Did he have that many enemies?"

Duo looked up, managing a wan smile. "Naw, not really. It's just--Solo an' me--we were from the wrong side of the tracks in a town like this. We were orphans--charity cases. An' bein' gay on top of that just made us genuine outcasts."

"I find that hard to believe," Heero responded. "You seem to have plenty of friends in town. There's that girl at the convenience store, Quatre, your pal Howie..."

"Well, technically Howie isn't around any more," Duo told him. "He retired and moved to Florida awhile back. Hilde owns the store now, but she never changed the name, out of respect." He gave a genuine smile. "Howard was a great guy."

"You miss him."

"Yeah. Lots."

"Do you keep in touch?"

"Postcards now an' then," Duo admitted.

"I'll--need his address," Heero said reluctantly. "I overheard Ralph mention that he was there when you and Solo fought that last time."

Duo smirked at him. "How long were you listening in the hallway?"

"Long enough. But the police report of the altercation could be slanted. I'd like to get Howard's version of it, if you don't mind."

Duo peered warily at him. "What if I do mind? You'll still have to do it, won't you?"

"If it would bother you that much, I could do without it--just take what's in the original report."

Duo sighed. "Naw. That shit the cops wrote down, about Howard sayin' I told Solo to drop dead--? Well, Howie would probably give you a nicer version. He knew Solo an' me. And he knew the difference between us just mouthing off to each other and really getting into a scrap."

"You did that often?"

"Pretty much," Duo shrugged. "We grew up together. Hell, we were more like brothers than boyfriends, really." He closed his eyes and ran a hand across his face. "I might've been upset thinkin' he'd walked out on me--but that was a million times better than knowing he's dead."

"I'm sorry," Heero said quietly, genuine sympathy in his voice.

Duo looked up at him, blinking suspiciously shiny eyes, and forced a careless smile. "Thanks."

Heero fiddled with the pad in his hands, and then pulled himself back together and tapped at the page with his pen. "How about summarizing Solo's childhood and then giving me some names? I'll need people Solo was close to, whether it be friends, bosses, teachers, or enemies. I want to get a sort of 'snapshot' of his situation here in town. It might help me think of motives and opportunities."

"Okay." Duo sat back, letting his gaze wander around the room as he thought. "I already told you we were orphans. We started out on the street together, when we were really little, and then got taken in by the Maxwell Church Orphanage here in town." He gave a faint smile. "It was a damn sight better than we probably deserved."

"I doubt that," Heero said quietly. "No one deserves to be out on the streets. I've seen them; I know what it's like."

"Yeah, I guess you do. Sanc probably has its share of homeless people."

"It does." Heero tried not to let his mind travel down that road--into the dark alleys of Sanc. "So back to the point--how long were you and Solo at the orphanage?"

"Well, I ended up there until I was almost eighteen. Solo got adopted by an older couple when he was around ten." Duo scowled faintly. "I think they mostly wanted someone to help work on their farm. Their own kids were grown and gone--wanted nothing to do with the place. They said the big old house was too quiet without the sound of their boys to fill it up. But you'd think they'd have wanted more than one kid, if that was the case."

Heero looked sharply at him, and then his expression softened in sympathy. "I take it they turned you down."

Duo grimaced. "You're right on the ball, aren't ya? Yeah, Father Maxwell suggested Solo an' I could go together, since we'd been buddies so long. But the old fogies didn't like my hair, an' I wasn't about to cut it on the off chance they'd change their minds."

"I'm glad you didn't," Heero said firmly.

Duo cocked his head questioningly.

"Aside from the fact that it looks good on you, you were right not to change yourself for anyone else. It takes a strong personality to do that."

A deep blush spread up Duo's cheeks, and he looked away. "Thanks," he mumbled.

"I mean that," Heero insisted. "If those people couldn't accept you for who you were, they didn't deserve to have you in their lives."

"Jeeze," Duo mumbled, unable to even look up at the intense blue eyes. "You don't hardly know me," he pointed out. "I was a hellion. Not exactly adoption material."

"And Solo was?" Heero countered with a hint of teasing in his voice.

Duo managed to raise his eyes at least as far as the notebook in Heero's hands, and he studied the indecipherable shorthand the detective was using. "Solo was every bit as much trouble as I was--but he had short enough hair to pass muster with the Stevens family."

"So, I'll assume you two stayed close even after the adoption."

"Yeah. Solo came by the orphanage a couple times a week, and we hung out together in school."

"When did you become a couple?"

Duo couldn't help smiling wistfully. "On my thirteenth birthday." He looked up slyly. "I know--you're wondering how a street kid could have an actual birthday."

"The orphanage assigned you one, right?" Heero smirked.

Duo rolled his eyes. "Dammit, Yuy, you are way too quick for me!"

"You're just used to dealing with the lame brains that call themselves cops in this town," Heero said smugly.

Duo laughed aloud at that. "God, I wish Ralph was here to hear you say that!"

"I'm glad he's not," Heero asserted. "I have little patience for morons."

Duo laughed even harder. "Yer killin' me here!" he accused. "All these great insults, and I can't watch Ralph's face turn pretty colors."

"I'll be happy to repeat them next time I see him."

The braided man finally regained control, though a wide smile was fairly plastered across his face. "Ah, I s'pose I gotta get back to the story, hm?"

"It would be helpful."

"Well, Solo and I were a couple from then on. I started high school the next year, and we were pretty much inseparable."

"How did folks take to your relationship?" Heero interjected, casting a knowing look at the other man.

Duo snorted wryly.

"Did anyone openly threaten the two of you?"

"Y'mean aside from the obligatory name-calling and harassment in the locker room?" Duo asked. "Not really."

"What about that scene at Howie's?" Heero reminded him. "That was more than locker room shenanigans."

"Yeah, well, when Solo disappeared, it left me as the only gay guy in town," Duo said with a shrug. "Open season."

Heero's expression darkened. "That's bullshit," he said flatly. "And the police in this town are wrong to allow it."

"The police in this town--" Duo's voice trailed off and he shook his head. "I went to school with a few of them--Ralph and Alex, for example. The others--well, the older cops were friends with Trant's dad, back in the day."

"And Chief Tsubarov?"

"He's an okay guy, really," Duo said firmly. "But you've gotta understand, the way politics work in this town--" He shrugged. "Otto's dad is the biggest taxpayer in Smoky Hills. Even Tsubarov wouldn't dare press charges against his son."

"That's absurd."

"That's Smoky Hills," Duo insisted. He ducked his head, looking a bit embarrassed at the way things worked in his home town. "Look, 'Ro, it's no big deal. Yeah, Solo and I had a few enemies--and I guess I still do. But it's nothing I can't handle."

"Okay," Heero said diplomatically, allowing Duo his pride in the matter. "So--you and Solo had a falling out. I heard you tell Ralph Solo took off and you went back to work. When did you realize Solo was missing?"

"Right away, I guess--but it didn't sink in until a day had passed without so much as a word." Duo shrugged. "We generally made up within hours. But the next day when I tried calling and stopped by the apartment, I got a really bad feeling about it." His forehead creased in a frown. "Probably should've picked the lock right then--but I waited until after school the next day. All of Solo's stuff was there, only there was no sign of him. And his bed hadn't been slept in."

Heero raised an eyebrow. "How'd you know that? Maybe he made it when he got up."

Duo rolled his eyes. "Not hardly. But I'd spent the night before our argument there, and when I got up for school, I'd ended up dragging half the blankets onto the floor." He grinned sheepishly. "I was runnin' late."

"I won't even ask," Heero said with a shake of his head.

"It's not like that!" Duo insisted. "We weren't doing anything that made me late--I just overslept--like I always do. Anyhow, the room was just like it had been that morning. Solo hadn't been back. I went straight to the cops when I saw that."

"And they didn't take you seriously."

Duo gave a derisive snort. "That's putting it mildly--the assholes."

He looked up as Thor and Balder came trotting in, having apparently been brought from their backyard exile by Trowa, and automatically reached out to start scratching Thor's shaggy brow.

Smiling at the smug look on the dog's face, Heero tore his eyes away from the enchanting sight of Duo fussing over the dog with a soft expression on his face, and took the folder he'd appropriated from Ralph, scanning over the police report and comparing Duo's prior statement to the one he'd just made. They were virtually identical.

He kept reading, trying not to sigh in irritation at some of the derogatory marginal notes the investigating officer had written. "Who's Officer Clark?" he asked. "Is he still on the force?"

"Naw," Duo said with a shrug. "That was Trant's old man." A wry smile twisted his lips. "He died a couple of years ago. And good riddance."

"Not much of a loss to the force, if this is an example of his work," Heero agreed.

"Actually, I meant he sucked as a human being," Duo clarified. "I think he might've even slapped Trant around some. Probably why the loser ended up being such a bully."

"His father beat him?"

"Don't quote me on that," Duo said quickly. "It's just something Solo said once, about Trant's dad being a nasty bastard when Trant had a black eye in school that day. I've got no proof."

"Yes, well--" Heero paused, shaking his head. "I hate men who pick on those weaker than themselves."

Duo fixed him with a wary look. "Is that why you stuck up for me at Howie's? You thought I was weaker--?"

Heero caught the dangerous gleam in the indigo eyes at once. "No!" He blurted hastily. "That's not what I meant at all. I stuck up for you because you were outnumbered. It looked like they might do some serious damage."

The flicker of anger that had flared in Duo's eyes disappeared as quickly as it came, and he turned his attention to giving Balder as much affection as Thor. "Well--I can handle those two any time. Trust me on that. But it was nice having some backup."

"As I said before, any time." Heero's eyes were still roving over the report, and he glanced up at Duo questioningly. "Did Solo have a car?"

"Huh?" Duo glanced away from Balder just long enough to make eye contact. "A car? Yeah, he did. Why?"

"It was never found was it?"

"No." Duo scowled deeply. "The cops wouldn't list it as stolen, since they figured Solo'd taken off in it. So nobody ever looked."

"Like they didn't look for a body, back when the crime scene was fresh and there might've been evidence," Heero grumbled.

"Yeah, like that." Duo cocked his head, letting his fingers keep scratching behind the wolfhound's ears. "Why'd you ask about the car?"

"Just wondering if it could've been a car jacking gone bad--"

Duo let out a burst of laughter. "Oh, fuck! If you'd ever seen that car, you wouldn't ask!" he chortled. "It was a piece of shit, Yuy. A genuine crap car. Nobody in their right mind would've wanted it! Hell, even Solo didn't. He was all about havin' his cherry red Camaro some day..." Duo's voice trailed off and he sobered rapidly, blinking a few times and then focusing his interest on the dog again.

"I'm sorry," Heero said quietly.

"For what? Making me think about Solo?" Duo shrugged, despite the hoarseness of his voice. "I thought about him every day for years after he disappeared. Hell, I guess I still do."

Heero's expression shifted slightly. "Is that why you're alone? You were waiting for him to come back?"

Duo shook his head and then shrugged. "Maybe part of me was," he conceded. "I guess once I started believing the idiots who'd said he up and left, I hoped he'd send word for me to come join him." His expression darkened. "But after I turned eighteen and never heard from him at all, I kinda gave up that pipe dream, y'know?" He glanced up, giving Heero a shy smile. "I guess, mostly, Solo was a tough act to follow. No one measured up, and after having been burned once, I wasn't willing to take those kinds of risks."

Heero winced, recalling all too well the sting of being dumped. "I don't blame you," he said gently.

Duo looked up sharply, catching the change in Heero's tone of voice, but he couldn't read the expression in the deep blue eyes. "Well--maybe now that I know--" He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. Knowing Solo was dead, and that he hadn't simply decided Duo wasn't worth waiting for--well, it gave the braided man back something; something he'd needed very much.

"He didn't leave you," Heero said firmly, finishing the thought. "Not voluntarily. He still cared--still loved you."

Duo caught his breath, looking down at the dogs with a hand on each shaggy head, trying to blink back tears again. "Hey, 'Ro," he managed in a choked voice. "We about done? I'm--I need to get home--"

"Sorry. I didn't mean to push," Heero told him, thinking even as he said it that Duo had desperately needed to know Solo hadn't walked out on him under his own power. "How 'bout you just list some names for me--people who were in town back then who might still be around for me to talk to? And then I'll take you home."

"Sure."

Duo followed through by giving Heero a list of people who'd known Solo personally, whether they were friends or enemies. Of course, when he got to Father Maxwell, he had to explain that the priest was dead, along with Sister Helen and the handful of orphans who'd still been living at the church at the time.

But he wasn't prepared for the stricken, sympathetic look on Heero's face when he told him about the only real home he'd ever had burning to the ground.

"God," Heero ground out hoarsely. "If I'd had any idea of the shit I'd make you wade through--" He shook his head.

Duo gave a short, bitter laugh. "What--y'mean my life thus far? Yeah, I suppose it sounds kinda shitty. But it wasn't all bad, y'know. There were plenty of good times, too. And growing up with a best friend like Solo, and folks like Howard and Hilde around--well, I coulda done a lot worse."

Heero looked up from under his bangs, giving a wry smile. "Trowa's right. You are a cheerleader."

"You mean a fuckin' cheerleader," Duo corrected with a smirk. "And no, I'm not. Quatre says I have a defeatist attitude."

"Well, I've yet to see it," Heero said warmly. He gestured with his notebook. "I think I've got enough names here to get started with some interviews. "I'll want to talk to Otto and Trant, for sure. But I think first I should do some fact-finding--see if anyone else can attest to their persecution of you and Solo. That will give me a stronger case for probable cause."

Duo looked amused. "Cop talk," he teased. "Kinda hot."

Heero blushed brilliantly, but got a moment to recover as Trowa entered the room. "Hey, guys--I'm about to start supper. Should I make enough for three?"

"No." Duo stood up hastily, feeling a twinge of guilt over the flirting he'd just done. If Trowa and Heero were a couple, he had no right. "I've gotta get home."

Heero stood as well, frowning in concern at the haggard look on Duo's face. The man had spent all day being grilled by an amateur cop--of course he was exhausted. "Another time, Trowa," he said quietly, sharing a significant look with his brother.

"Oh, yeah," Trowa replied, catching on at once. "Long day, huh Duo?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe you can come back soon," Trowa urged. "You and Quatre."

Duo managed a smile for him. "That'd be nice." And Quatre could see for himself how it was between Heero and Trowa. "I'll run it by Quat and give you a call."

He lapsed into uneasy silence as he and Heero got into the car and headed for town. But it didn't take long for the astute detective to notice how quiet he'd become.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Duo shrugged. "Not sure you'd think they were worth it," he said wryly.

"Try me."

"Just--thinkin' about Solo an' stuff." Duo's gaze was drawn to the road leading up to Beech Bluff as they passed it. "I guess I'm still trying to let it all sink in."

"That's very understandable," Heero assured him.

"Quat and I drove past the forensic crew that day you found the rest of the bones," Duo continued. "I know the cops want to keep the location quiet, but--"

"You want to go there?" Heero finished for him.

"Should I?" Duo asked in a near-whisper.

"You want to see where he's been all this time."

"I think so."

Heero thought about it for a long moment. Some families found solace in seeing the place their loved one's body was found, and others only found it more upsetting. But the place Solo had been buried was peaceful and secluded. It was nothing like a body found in a dumpster or stuffed into a trunk.

"I can take you there," he offered. "There's not much to see--just a clearing in the woods. But if you want to--"

"I do," Duo said quickly. "When could we go?"

"Whenever you want to."

"Tomorrow? I'm pretty sure Quat won't object to me takin' a personal day."

"Tomorrow's fine." Heero adjusted his grip on the steering wheel, trying not to think of the outing as a date. He wanted very much to let Duo know he was interested in him--but it wasn't a particularly opportune time. Duo was still dealing with a huge loss, and his emotional state was questionable at best.

"Hey--"

"Hn?"

"I just want you to know how much I appreciate this--you getting me out of jail, and trying to find out who killed Solo an' all."

"It's my job."

"Ah." A faint frown creased Duo's forehead, and Heero noticed it out of the corner of his eye.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing. Tired, I guess."

Heero snorted skeptically. "I haven't known you long, Duo. But I can recognize an evasion when I hear it. What's bothering you?"

"Just--well--you know about me--pretty much all about me. But I don't know much of anything about you."

Heero glanced aside at him. "Do you want to?"

"Well, yeah." Duo picked at the frayed seam along one leg of his jeans.

"Why?"

The braided man huffed in frustration. "I dunno--maybe because I spilled my guts to you, an' I feel like it was pretty one-sided. I don't even know why you'd give a shit if the Smoky Hills cops kept my ass in jail until Hell froze over."

"Maybe because I despise cops who abuse their authority and won't admit they're in over their heads."

"Yeah, but--" Duo blew out an exasperated breath. "So it was all just professional pride or something?"

"--or something," Heero echoed with a grin.

Duo glared at him, not sure whether he was being toyed with or teased. "How about throwin' me a bone here?"

Heero gave a nod of concession. "What do you want to know?"

Duo pondered that awhile, and then spoke up again with the first question that popped into his head. "You an' Trowa-- Are you--?" He closed his mouth abruptly, grimacing at what he'd almost asked. It was none of his business if they were more than roommates. And while they showed no overt signs of being a couple, it didn't mean they weren't.

"We're friends," Heero said evenly, without hesitation. "Roommates." He glanced over at Duo. "Is that what you wanted to know?"

Duo nodded mutely, biting his tongue to keep from asking the next biggest question on his list--was Heero gay? And if he was, would he be remotely interested in a loud-mouthed, brassy, long-haired trouble maker?

The braided man sighed, shaking his head at the unlikelihood.

"In case you're interested, we're half-brothers, too," Heero threw in, a faint smirk on his lips.

"Huh?" Duo gaped at him. "Seriously?"

Heero nodded. "Trowa's mother was pregnant with him when Dekim Barton took off, and my father, who'd been friends with her for a long time, asked her to marry him. I was born a couple of years after."

"Oh." Duo relaxed a bit, digesting the fact that Heero and Trowa might both be eligible gay men. Then he smiled faintly. "So you're the younger brother, eh?"

"Yes," Heero admitted with a slight grimace.

"Does Trowa throw that in your face much?"

"Only when he's trying to boss me around," Heero answered.

"I don't suppose he succeeds, though."

"Not often."

Duo had turned slightly towards Heero, his curiosity growing since his most pertinent question had been answered. "Why didn't you both go by the name Yuy?"

"Our mother felt that Trowa should bear his father's name--maybe for just such an eventuality as happened when the lawyer showed up to tell him about his inheritance." Heero gave a small shrug. "At least, that's my best guess. Our parents split up when I was a toddler, and I grew up mostly with my father, while Trowa stayed at the circus. We only ever got together at clown school."

"Clown school?" Duo asked in blank shock. "You went to clown school?"

"It was kind of a circus summer camp," Heero said defensively. "It was the one concession my father made--that I was allowed to spend that time with my mother and brother each year."

"Clown school." Duo shook his head, smirking.

Heero sighed. "Is it that unbelievable?"

"Yes." Duo had begun to snicker and could barely stop himself from losing it completely, picturing the stern, stoic man with face paint and a funny nose.

"It's not that funny," Heero insisted, even though a smile was threatening to break through his stern expression.

"But it is!" Duo insisted, clutching his stomach as the chuckles bubbled up. "Think about it! Face paint...juggling...and the noses!" He burst out laughing.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Heero hissed in exasperation. "We almost never dressed up in the whole outfit. Most of the summer camp was gymnastics and stunt training. You wouldn't believe how hard that stuff is. It's all about timing and coordination, you know."

Duo managed to stifle his amusement, considering the new information as he regained control. "I s'pose you're right. Must take a lot of talent to be able to look so clumsy without getting hurt."

"Damn straight!"

Duo smirked impishly at the scowling man, able to see amusement twitching the corners of the taut mouth. "Were you good at it?"

"Some of it." Heero didn't even want to try to explain that his serious demeanor and need for perfection had caused him no end of grief among the boisterous circus kids. He'd been very good at precision moves, but had never been able to loosen up and play the role.

"But not as good as you were at being a detective, right?"

Duo hadn't realized he stepped on some sort of land mine until Heero's face darkened and his hands tightened to a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel.

He caught on pretty quickly then, especially when Heero didn't answer the flippant question. "'Ro?"

"What?" came a curt response as Heero throttled down the familiar feeling of guilt and failure.

Duo bit his lip, fumbling for the right words to get them back to where they'd been a moment before. He realized he'd somehow offended the Japanese man, but didn't for the life of him know how. And it didn't look like Heero was going to be much help on that score, as he was glaring fixedly at the road ahead, looking like he wanted to smash the car into the first solid object they encountered.

"I'm sorry," Duo blurted.

"What?" This time the tone was softer, more confused.

"I--I'm sorry. Whatever I said--whatever I brought up--"

Heero gave a sharp shake of his head. "Not your fault," he said tightly. And it wasn't. Duo had no way of knowing that the last thing Heero considered himself was a good detective. Good detectives didn't accidentally shoot innocent bystanders--at least not in Heero's estimation.

"But it feels like it is," Duo asserted, feeling like he'd asked a very personal question, even though rationally speaking, he knew it wasn't.

"It isn't," Heero said with a shake of his head, gradually pulling his mind away from the image of a sandy-colored dog and a little girl. "Look, I'd just prefer not to talk about my past, I guess."

"Okay." Duo looked uncomfortably out the window.

"It's--complicated," Heero said, a hint of apology creeping into his tone. "I'll get into it with you some day. Just--not today? Please?"

Duo shot him a startled look, catching the genuine pleading in his tone. "Of course," he said quickly. "I didn't mean to bring up anything bad--"

"I know. And you didn't," Heero assured him. "It's just been a long day for me, and when I'm working on a case, I tend to get a bit edgy. You just reminded me of some old baggage."

Duo managed a crooked smile for him. "You've got some, too? You'll fit right in to Smoky Hills then." He decided maybe turning the topic away from both of them might be a good idea. "How 'bout Trowa? What's his story?"

"His story?"

"The circus--the knee injury--inheriting a big ol' farm in the middle of nowhere--" Duo nudged.

Heero glanced warily at him. "Why the curiosity? You like him?"

"No!" Duo said quickly. "I mean, not like that. He's a nice guy is all."

And my boss is lusting after him--so give me something to tell him already!

"He's a very nice guy," Heero admitted. Then he decided it was time to throw caution to the wind, and hope Trowa wouldn't kill him later. Besides, he could claim it was just payback for that magazine subscription. "I think he's a bit taken with your boss."

"Really?" Duo asked with a wide, genuine smile. "Quat'll be glad to hear that."

"Will he?" Heero asked, smiling in return.

"Very," Duo replied. "That is, if you don't mind me passing along the information."

"Why not?" Heero said with a shake of his head. "I've been tempted to do it myself."

"Huh?"

"Trowa's not usually the shy type," Heero elaborated. "But he's been irritatingly timid about approaching your roommate."

Duo snorted wryly. "Sounds like they deserve each other then. Two peas in a pod." He dared a shy sideways glance at Heero. "Was Quat able to help Trowa with the journals? I never did ask him."

"He was very helpful, and I think he's got a friend named Rashid--some sort of museum curator--who's going to examine the ones that were too damaged for his skills."

"Yeah, I've heard the name. If Rashid can't repair the books, nobody can."

They were pulling into Duo's driveway by that time, and the braided man breathed a sigh of relief, glad to be home.

"What time shall I pick you up tomorrow?" Heero asked, throwing the car into park and turning to look at Duo.

"You sure you want to come all the way to town?" Duo asked. "I could meet you up by the reservoir--"

"I'll pick you up," Heero said firmly. "I think I'd like to see you safely to and from the burial site." The blue eyes were full of concern when they pinned Duo with a knowing gaze. "It'll be harder than you realize."

"You're probably right," Duo conceded. "How about after lunch?"

"One o'clock?"

"Sounds good." Duo got out of the car and leaned in the open window. "Thanks for being so helpful, 'Ro."

"My pleasure," replied the Japanese man, smiling warmly, and wishing he dared speak up on his own behalf as easily as he'd spoken up for Trowa. "You have a good night."

"You too."

Duo watched him drive away, feeling unaccountably warm all over. He couldn't say for sure that Heero had been flirting with him--but it certainly looked that way. Duo couldn't seem to wipe the smile off his face as he headed inside to start supper.

TBC...

 

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