June, After Colony 199
Have you ever heard the expression "There is a reason for everything"?
I think it's the worst load of bull I've ever heard.
Oh, don't give me that look. I know I sound bitter; more than likely utterly childish as well. Maybe even selfish, as if I think I've had a rougher life than anyone else. I haven't, and I know it.
I also know a handful of people who did have that kind of life. Some of them still do.
And that's why I'm standing here, in the artificial rain, looking down at a crumpled piece of paper. Re-reading an address I committed to memory three days ago. Biting my lip as I look across the street, glaring at the cheerfully green door.
I can't tell you why I suddenly think that colors can be cheerful. Why do I even bother with such inane thoughts at a time like this?
When I left Earth I was full of determination. I knew what I had to do and exactly how to go about it. On the shuttle here I used the time to come up with the perfect speech. I had enough arguments that my target -- it feels appropriate to call him that -- would have done whatever I told him to.
But standing here, it feels wrong.
I arrived yesterday, and I've had time to watch him. He has a life here, friends and a job, maybe a girlfriend. When I planned this, I never stopped to consider the possibility that he had moved on. Stupid of me, really.
Looking at that damn door, I realize that there is only one way to do this, only one thing to say. I cannot bring myself to barge into a stranger's life and turn it upside down with cleverly twisted words -- especially not a stranger I know so much about. He deserves the truth.
Have my ramblings gotten you confused yet? No? I'm impressed. I can hardly make sense of my own thoughts right now. There are too many thoughts circling in my mind for me to sort them out.
Pushing away from the wall I've been leaning against, I straighten my back and walk across the street to knock at the green door.
The man who opens it is young, still in his teens. I would have called him a boy if it weren't for the look in his eyes. Anyone who's seen enough to get that look has earned what respect I can give him.
"Can I help you?" he asks.
"Duo Maxwell," I retort, my tone of voice not rising to make it a question. The braided man nods anyway, regarding me with some suspicion. Good.
"My name is Carla Moore," I inform him briskly, "and I would like to discuss a common friend with you; Heero Yuy."
He stiffens at the name, eyes going wide. "You know Heero?" He barely waits for my nod before stepping back and ushering me inside. We move through the small house into the kitchen, where he asks me to sit down before moving to the cupboards over the sink. He looks at me over his shoulder.
"I just made coffee, would you like a cup?"
I smile slightly, this restrained politeness so far from my mental image of him that I can't help myself. "I would. Black, please."
He returns to the table with two cups, a pot and a bowl of sugar. Pouring the coffee, he stirs two spoons of sugar into his cup before looking up to meet my gaze. Those violet eyes of his are quite captivating.
"How is he?" Duo asks quietly, as if he's afraid of the answer.
"Not as well as I would like." I hold up a hand to stop the flood of questions about to pour out of his mouth. "Please, let me say what I came to say and then, if you still feel the need for them, I will answer your questions." I wait for him to nod before launching into the tale of Heero's and my past.
"I first met Heero in 197, when we were assigned to the same mission. I was fairly new to the Preventers at the time, but I'd already been through six partners. They claimed I was impossible to work with and I thought they were idiots." I reached up to twirl a lock of hair around my finger. "There is a limit to how many bad jokes about redheads I can take, you know?
"We completed the mission and were split up again. Three months later, I was assigned to be his new partner. Apparently, Heero had even more trouble working with others than I did. I liked him, though. He treated me like shit most of the time, but he did that with everyone. He didn't single me out for it. I'm not sure when he started to open up to me." I paused to indulge myself in a smile. "Well, open for him, anyway. He's still the most secretive person I know. I'm guessing I'd proved I could be trusted, that I wasn't easily shocked. He started telling me things about the war."
I looked up from my coffee to find Duo's pained eyes locked on me. He looked… wistful, like he regretted not being there.
"He needed to talk, and I'll always be grateful that I could offer at least that much to him. I could listen, but I couldn't understand, because I wasn't there. I still have my parents, my brother and his family. I didn't loose anyone to the war, it breezed right by our little village.
"We've been room-mates for the past two months, and I've held him when he woke up crying in the middle of the night. I've seen him at his worst and never shied away from it. And he's done the same for me."
I pause, sipping my coffee, letting the silence grow, hoping that Duo will understand what I'm trying to tell him. He fidgets in his chair. He's cute when he's uncomfortable.
"Why are you telling me this?" he finally says. "What's the point of letting me know how much better his life has gotten?"
"You need to know where he stands." I keep my voice calm and level. I hope. "You need to realize that if it hadn't been for you, he wouldn't have been able to relax the way he does." Ah, I've got his attention now, alright. Even after knowing Heero this long, the sharpness of Duo's gaze is a bit unsettling.
"If you hadn't been around, joking and simply being alive, he would have forgotten what it was like. He told me so." My voice lowers slightly as I pin him with a glare to match Heero's. "And for your sake, I hope that I haven't misjudged you, because if you hurt him, I will hunt you down and skin you alive."
He blinks at that; obviously not used to being threatened by women.
"I wouldn't... I couldn't..." he stutters, so worked up at the thought of hurting Heero that he can't complete a sentence. I am satisfied.
"I came here to tell you that he misses you," I continue, as if Duo didn't say anything. "Sometimes when we're watching the sunset, he'll get this faraway look in his eyes, and I'll know he's wishing you were there to see it too."
Duo's eyes are suspiciously bright now. He blinks, and sure enough, two tears make their way down his cheeks.
"I came here to ask you to come back to Earth again." I allow my voice to warm, now that I'm certain of Duo's feelings for my Heero. I frown slightly at the thought. He isn't my Heero anymore, in fact he never was. He will never be anyone's but Duo's. And I can see that the opposite is true, even before Duo speaks.
"When is the next shuttle?"
I smile back at him, genuinely happy for them. Things will work out, I can feel it.
Maybe I was wrong after all.
Maybe there is a reason for everything.
Maybe a happy ending is reason enough.
October, After Colony 199
Duo slipped out of bed, careful not to wake his sleeping lover.
Looking down at the sleeping Japanese man, he smiled gently. Heero looked so adorable when he slept, innocent almost. Curled up on his side, one arm reaching out as if in search of Duo's warmth, the other hugging his pillow.
Duo had to curb a sudden -- by no means uncommon -- urge to climb right back in and kiss those slightly pouting lips. He knew well enough that there was no way he'd settle for a single kiss, and he had promised to meet Trowa and Catherine at the spaceport.
Cursing under his breath at the unfairness of the world, Duo tore his gaze from the all-too-inviting sight and went to the kitchen in search for coffee.
On the table he found a small, black velvet box and a note.
He snatched the note, immediately recognizing their roommate's neat handwriting.
To whichever one of you stubborn people finds it first:
don't you dare leave this apartment without taking the
box back to the one you love first.
Hugs,
Carla
PS. I'll pick up the circus people for you, so use the time,
you hear? *wink wink*
Duo shook his head, amused by the woman's bluntness. But her idea was not at all bad...
Smiling widely, he picked the box up and went to wake up his love.