“Good,” he simply says and captures my lips. I slide my hand into his hair, fingers stroking the thick chestnut bangs.
“Don’t you want to know what..”
“No.”
“Duo..”
“Shut the fuck up, Yuy.” He deepens the kiss immediately, tongue prying at my lips, demanding -not asking- entrance. I part my lips for him, but not obediently enough to give him absolute control of the kiss that easily. He growls, hands slipping in my neck and pulling me closer, forcing to meet his fierce lip-lock. I want to protest, my fingers tightening in his hair, my other hand on his shoulder.
“Duo..”
“You can tell me all about it later,” he responds, looking up at me again. I stare back, right in to his eyes. Dark purple.
“I…”
“Hmmm? Something wrong?”
“Are you wearing contacts?”
“Why the hell should I wear contacts?”
“I don’t know. Your eyes look a lot darker to me.”
He laughs in delight and kisses me again, a lot less forcefully, and a lot more attentively. His hands slide from my neck to my shoulders, his fingertips pressing. “You’re such an observer, Heero. Such an eye for details.”
Duo smiles smugly at me, and moves his head, nipping along my jawbone. I try to keep control over my breathing- his mere touch, his nips and kisses are always tantalizing, teasing, promising. I want to have more of him, more than I could ever bear; if he would be a liquid, I would drink so much of him that I would drown myself. I want to drown myself in him and never resurface; Duo is Duo, my Duo, and my Duo only.
He nips at my ear, laughing softly. His hands are moving lower down my back, his fingers trailing along my spine. “Such an eye for details, but still you miss the bigger picture.”
“What?” I want to loosen the embrace, but he doesn’t allow me to straighten myself. “What did you say?”
“Does it matter?” He arches into me, trapping me on top of him with his legs. His grip is firm and a lot more forceful than anyone would give Duo credit for. I gasp out loud. I’ve never minded him trapping me before, but his grip feels uncomfortable, suffocating. Fucking Une! This is Duo, my Duo! He likes to wraps his legs around me, one way or another, he likes to trap me and hold me down with simple yet gentle force- he’s done it numerous times before and now I’m doubting... weighing... contemplating his every move. That woman dared to call him Shinigami and make me doubt -and damn me for even allowing her to doubt me- him, my Duo and my mind is running in circles and- he kisses me again, right on my cheek.
“You seem troubled? Something the matter?” Duo moves his head again, settling himself comfortably in the pillows.
“We have a mission,” is the best I can come up with.
“A mission? Now?”
“Yes, now. Wufei’s going to pick us up in the afternoon.”
“Wufei? That’s great! I haven’t seen him in a while.”
He stretches himself, stifling a yawn. His hand is still on my back, drawing lazy circles. He hasn’t moved his legs.
“Duo, you saw him this morning.”
“I did? Bah, I merely caught a glimpse of him. Maybe we can really catch up this afternoon.” He shifts a little, holding me close. He puts his hand on my cheek, cupping my face, and kisses me again. “Is that all?”
“At the moment, yes,” I answer, feeling… what am I feeling? Doubtful? Regretful? Remorseful? I want to taste his lips and convince myself that his lips still taste the same. He moans slightly when I take control, pressing my lips hard against his, wanting, needing the touch. Craving, dying for his touch. His touch only. He tilts his head, turning it to the side, exposing more of his delicious skin. I latch onto his neck, my hand leaving his hair and tracing the outline of his face. Nothing seems different; his response is still the same, already arching into my touch. Before his eyes flutter shut in delight, I notice the far lighter color. Cobalt blue and violet… swirling colors, the colors I can’t get enough of gazing into, for hours and hours on end. It’s out of my mind the next second as he starts yanking at my shirt, buttons popping open, and whispering my name in such a way only Duo can whisper.
-----------------
I don’t exactly recall falling asleep, but I’m awakened by a monotonous, repetitive sound. I open my eyes, disoriented for a mere second. The bed is empty and I’m lying on the covers, naked, with a blanket thrown over me. I push it away, sitting up straight. Duo sits behind the desk, his fingers on the keyboard of his own laptop. His one’s black, mine’s the same silver gray as Une’s. Thinking about that woman immediately brings up a headache- the conversation we had, was a difficult one, and an unbelievable one. Duo’s curled up in an impossible fashion; one leg is tucked behind him on the seat of the chair and his other leg is drawn up, and he rests with his chin on his knee, looking fascinated by the laptop screen. He wears nothing but his boxers and his skin shimmers, hair still damp, but firmly braided.
I could use a shower of my own, and I’d better hurry if I want to be in time for Wufei. I roll myself off the bed, not caring for my current naked state; it isn’t something Duo’s never seen before.
“Benedetti, right?” He calls out to me.
“What?”
“Salvatore Benedetti. I just received his file.”
I walk over to him, putting my hands on his shoulders and kissing him on top of his head. Duo smiles, the corners of his lips turned up, his kissable lips widening a little. “Mobile suits manufacturer. Some people will never learn.”
I simply nod, leaving my fingers on his shoulders. The picture on the laptop is the same one Wufei showed me. These encrypted and encoded e-mails can’t be intercepted due to the special lines we use and in the hardly imaginable case of them being intercepted, I wish the one trying to read them good luck. I was the one to design the encryption.
Duo’s slender fingers rest on the keyboard and he leans back with his head, resting against me. I expect him to start asking about my meeting with Lady Une any second, but he remains silent. Changes in my Duo… yes, there are changes in my Duo. My Duo has changed. He’s far more silent, that’s for sure. Normally he would jump all over the place, demanding to know what’s going on, demanding to know what the meeting was about, just demanding to know. Duo’s not the kind of person to accept things placidly. He wants a reason, a motivation… and it unnerves me that he doesn’t ask and just calmly sits in a chair and takes what’s been dealt to him. I kiss him again on the top of his head, because I’m too much of a coward to start talking about it myself, and I don’t want this fragile moment to shatter.
Wufei arrives late afternoon, dressed in a pristine light gray business suit, and looks over us appreciatively. “Good to see you,” he addresses Duo.
“Good to see you too,” is his reply and I keep my eyes on Wufei to gauge his reaction. Nothing is visible on his face, not even the merest flinch. It’s the coldest response Duo has ever given Wufei as far as I can recall... and now that I pay attention to it, Duo has been responding pretty curtly to others as well lately. I remind myself that I have to be firm in my resolve and not allow anyone to make me doubt Duo. People change, and as long as Duo doesn’t change into some sour, bitter hermit he can be as curt as he wants to.
“Fully briefed?”
“Fully,” Duo answers at the same time I do. We both received the emails with the details concerning the mission- we understand that this is Wufei’s show, so to speak; he has set up the contacts, and he has worked on his own on this case for quite some time now. Salvatore Beneditti is the big fish he’s going to catch and we’re his assistants- not that I mind. We’re here to lend each other a helping hand, right? I notice I do indeed have difficulties keeping an objective opinion about Wufei- I’m still disappointed that he didn’t take Duo’s side, as far as the meeting went. Maybe there’ll be another opportunity to talk about it, in private, or else I’ll create the opportunity. I can’t let go of this, not after what has been discussed. It’s about my Duo.
Wufei is posing as a representative of a Chinese wholesaler of salvaged titanium; God only knows how much titanium is still left floating around in space or scattered all over Earth after the two wars. We are his assistants; Duo is the PR man, I’m the financial advisor. I doubt we’ll be doing a lot of talking to Benedetti, but if he wants to talk to us, we’re prepared. We’re going with Wufei to keep our eyes and ears open for anything suspicious while he deals with Benedetti; the future course of the mission depends on our findings.
Duo smoothes his braid before following me and Wufei out of the hotel room. I realize I still haven’t eaten anything; the breakfast this morning was ruined and I didn’t think of having lunch. Has Duo eaten something?
A taxi is waiting for us outside and we take our place on the backseat, while Wufei takes up residence on the passenger’s seat. “It’s only ten minutes out of Florence.” He gives the address to the driver, who mumbles something akin to “Si, signore” and puts the car into motion. Ironically, we pass the convention center where I met Une earlier this morning, which almost seems a lifetime ago. It’s been only a few hours… a few hours, and years have been changed. I glance at Duo, who’s looking out of the window, hands folded in his lap. He’s perfectly relaxed, not a bit of tension to see. He knows how to talk his way out of a situation and to fight as well should it be necessary- we’re both without a gun, at Wufei’s request. It would certainly be very strange if we were to carry guns at a simple meeting, and would arouse suspicion immediately. I like to look at his profile; his gazing eye, his slightly curved nose, his warm, full lips, his cheekbone, all framed with the dark chestnut of his hair, displaying so much color- cinnamon, light brown, honey… strands of hair mixing into one liquid sea of chestnut. His braid is thick and luscious, resting over his shoulder, inviting me to stroke it; but I know better and keep my hands off of him for now. We’re on a mission.
I wonder what he’s thinking of. The upcoming meeting? He’s probably mentally preparing himself for his role as the jovial, easy-talking PR man, assisting his colleague for a large order and delivery of titanium. Salvatore Benedetti won’t probably see that he’s being fooled; but if there’s really a Shinigami deep down in him, then Duo has been fooling me for years as well.
------------------
We arrive earlier at Benedetti’s factory than I thought, but still ‘fashionably late’; Italians aren’t that punctual and it’s a good thing I don’t live here; showing up late for an appointment has never really impressed me.
We’re welcomed by a beautiful secretary, dressed according the latest fashion, and she calls upstairs for Benedetti that his foreign guests have arrived. I admire the large hall and a work of art; it’s of course a reproduction of the Venus of Milo. It takes Benedetti another half an hour to finally come down from wherever he was to meet and greet us; I refrain from commenting on his tardiness because this is custom and he does get points for at least trying to bow to us, only to be ruined with a fake laugh and an exclamation of “you funny Asian guys!”. I don’t like him, and that’s a civilized thought.
Duo picks up on the comment immediately, introducing himself as “one of those funny American guys” and launching into a marketing speech that leaves me baffled and Wufei a bit less distressed; if anything, he hates it if people mock his cultural background. Thanks to Duo, the kettle is off the stove before it even could boil over and I can’t resist throwing a smug look towards Wufei. It hasn’t escaped me however, that Duo hasn’t exchanged a single word with him during the taxi ride.
Benedetti is impressed with Duo’s words. He’s talking a little faster than normal speed and riddles his words with so many marketing terms that the man, not that much used to English anyway, can’t do anything but nod enthusiastically. By injecting some Italian phrases and words, Duo has won the man over in no time, throwing the ball back in our court when he’s finished with his talk. We’ve settled on English as our main language, as none of us speaks Italian that fluently and Benedetti isn’t quite multilingual himself.
“Welcome, welcome,” he says, the accent thick enough to send any English speaker running for the hills. “Let’s go to the office and discuss, right?”
Wufei nods sternly and after the exchange of business cards and another handshake, we follow the man to his office. The secretary waves after Duo and I’m sure he sends her a saucy wink in return. Changes in Duo? No, no changes at all. Une is wrong and Wufei.. I’ll deal with Wufei later. Hard.
The door to Benedetti’s office is opened by another man, hardly worth my attention. I know Duo’s looking for the same details as I do; extra security, lots of personnel, closed offices, cameras. He’s going to ask for a factory tour later and seeing the way he’s buttered up Benedetti, I’m sure he’ll get his chance. For now, we are seated on three comfortable chairs and the skinny nameless man asks for our preferences in coffee. Wufei declines and asks for tea, I ask for a cappuccino and Duo does the same. Benedetti welcomes us again, talking proudly about his factory and how he worked hard to make it into the producer of steel and iron works as it is now.
Wufei finally finds a way to jump into the monologue, and just as they start to discuss the delivery terms of the titanium, the skinny man returns with a cart full; besides the coffee, he has prepared several antipasti dishes as well. It’s not even close to dinner, but I haven’t eaten all day and I urge myself not to indulge myself in the delicious looking pasta with seafood. Duo steals an olive and I’m sure I’m the only one in the office who caught his movement; I grin a little.
As Benedetti urges us to taste the antipasti and have as many as we want to, Duo takes his chance to ask for a factory tour. The Italian nods, waving his bruschetti around. “That’s an excellent idea! You see more opportunities for us, right? Adalberto, show him the factory and we’ll meet again for dinner, yes?”
Duo rises from his chair, thanking Benedetti and assuring him that he’s looking forward to dinner together. I want to bang my head into the wall; that means we’re stuck to him for a long time to come.
Reclining into my rather comfortable chair, I listen to Wufei discussing business with Benedetti. After a long dissertation about the factory and its rise into the steel and iron world, the man’s now back on track with the titanium delivery. I mustn’t slip away in any other thoughts; Wufei can ask me any moment to back his story up with some figures and financial talk. I put on an expression as if I’m most interested; fortunately I have eaten plenty of the antipasti so I feel at least a bit better. It crosses my mind that Duo has only eaten that olive.
“We can offer you a larger margin as soon as you start ordering in bulk,” Wufei motions towards me. “Mister Yuy here can account for you how much your profit will be if you make use of our offer.”
“Very interesting,” Benedetti agrees. “I’m going to need more titanium in the future. How am I certain of constant shipments?”
“We hold our customers in high regards,” I take over the conversation. “And some customers hold priority over others.”
“How do I know I’m one of those customers who hold priority?”
“As soon as you start ordering in bulk from one and a half ton and up,” I reply deadpan. “We offer customized prices and discounts, as long as the orders and payments are steady. We can deliver according to a schedule, and payments can also be made according to schedules.”
“Sounds good to me.”
It’s almost like I can see the gears in his head turn around. Titanium is hard to come by, especially in bulk. Wufei has convinced the man that his company is able to deliver titanium in steady shipments; that would mean an uninterrupted chain of producing mobile suits... which we aren’t supposed to know. Wufei has probed Benedetti about whether he wants to expand his steel and iron works, and I can’t even recall the answer to that; the Italian is as slippery as an eel, changing the subject as fast as he can. I hope Duo can come up with more relevant information; from this discussion alone I can determine that Benedetti is a relentless, greedy little bugger. I’m convinced he only thinks of the profits he’s going to make from manufacturing Mobile Suits and selling them to the highest bidder. He’s the kind of person that makes me want to puke.
-----------------
After the long and boring meeting, we still don’t have a contract. Benedetti is a master in prolonging and extending; now he wants to await the first shipment of titanium before taking a final decision. Wufei agrees, of course- that shipment will only arrive after we’ve verified if the man’s intentions are kosher or not. Duo has to rejoin us for dinner; we’re waiting downstairs for him. The handsome secretary has already left; I glance at my watch. Wufei heaves a small sigh, out of Benedetti’s earshot; he’s quite fed up as well. It’s because we couldn’t get out of the dinner together; apparently the Italian assumed we’d be joining him, no questions asked.
My heart jumps when I hear Duo’s voice ringing through the hall, his laugh as contagious as ever. He comes around the corner, accompanied by Adalberto, who seems to have loosened a great part of his stiff composure and laughs with Duo as if they’re the best of friends. I put my hand up, waving at Duo.
“Are you finished yet?” He asks when he sees us, taking the hard hat off and mussing his hair a little.
“We’re going out for dinner and we were waiting for you to show up,” I answer, glad to see him in one piece- as if anything could’ve happened in the factory. But you never know…
“Dinner sounds nice!” Duo gives the hard hat to Adalberto with a graceful “Grazie”, thanking him once again for the tour. Benedetti asks him if he enjoyed the tour and while Duo is talking to him, the Italian motions for us to walk outside, to the waiting limousine. I walk next to Wufei, and take advantage of the opportunity.
“I want to talk to you in private as soon as possible.”
“I’ll let you know.”
This answer will have to do for now, as Wufei has to arrange for us to meet somewhere, at a location where we’re certain not to be overheard. The convention center will be an excellent place; he already knows what I want to talk to him about. I don’t want to keep this a secret from Duo; they can’t expect me to hide it from him. It has surprised me that Duo didn’t pry at all about the mysterious meeting this morning, but I’m sure he knows that something’s going on. I don’t want to keep that from him, and certainly not these suspicions. He’s allowed to have a chance to defend himself. I don’t want to close my eyes and be blind to any changes or to the possibility that he could be the killer… but it’s all too strange and too coincidental to make any specific accusations. I don’t want to accuse him of anything. I want to hear his side of the story, and as far as I can remember, the strange death of the security guard back in Eastbourne is the only thing that just doesn’t compute. To hell with Une and her precious theory.
Thanks to Duo, the dinner is tolerable, slightly enjoyable even; he keeps up the conversation, knows how and when to place a joke, not afraid of making fun of himself as well. He involves me and Wufei into the conversation time after time, only falling silent when he eats- and he eats a large dish of cannelloni, three slices of garlic bread and one or two olives. He eats as fast and thoroughly as I’m used to from him, clearing his plate until there’s not even a little crumb left. He compliments the cook and Benedetti for choosing such an excellent restaurant, ordering an espresso with a large smile. I’ve eaten something called spaghetti caprese, and I could barely eat half of it, the earlier antipasti having filled my stomach pretty much. Wufei isn’t much of a pasta eater at all; I don’t know what his dish is called, but it’s hardly touched. He probably would’ve offended his host -and maybe he does anyway- but Duo knows how to distract Benedetti’s attention. If he goes on like this, he could get the access codes to his factory out of the Italian without a hitch, I muse. I use my napkin to wipe my mouth and put it down, awaiting the ordered coffee.
“So, I take it I can work out the plans for the factory?” Duo asks, slipping a mocha bean into his mouth. “The collaboration could be very promising, and very effective. With the right cards in hands, your factory can become the leader on the market.”
Benedetti nods enthusiastically, harping on his wish to present himself as the great ‘presidente’ of his factory. It’s actually rather hilarious how the man is swooned by Duo’s words; he’s nothing but a greedy, egotistical little bugger. He won’t get very far with his plans for manufacturing Mobile Suits if he continues to expose himself like that. How is he ever able to keep up his cover if he’s apparently that lustful for attention? It amuses me slightly and I glance over at Wufei.
I know he wants nothing but to make an end to the stupid dinner, but he patiently waits until Benedetti calls it quits. From the looks of it, the Italian is having the time of his life and Duo seems to enjoy with some sarcasm the impending fall of the business man. It takes another hour before the man rises to his feet, thanking us for the meeting and looking forward to the envisioned collaboration. We all speak the same words, smiling and nodding in his direction, friendly yet determined to decline his invitation to a drink at his place. I want to get rid of him, figuratively; it’s like he’s leaving a thin layer of oil behind, that you can’t get off your body no matter how many times you wash yourself. We do accept his offer to drive us back to our hotel, and he doesn’t look surprised when we name the Brunelleschi, cracking a joke about how it’s a ‘good home to such great business man like himself’. It doesn’t escape me that his goodbye to Duo is more attentive and long-winded than his last words to us; I hope he mistook the irritated look on my face for tiredness, but it’s the last thing I care about. Wufei turns to face us after verifying that Benedetti’s limousine is really out of sight.
“A nightcap upstairs?”
It’s not as much as a question as a command; he wants to discuss what Duo saw in the factory, and what my interpretation is of the meeting and of Benedetti in general.
“Fine with me,” I answer and I want to ask Duo what he thinks about it, but he’s already walking towards the elevator. He blinks when I come to stand next to him, touching his hand with mine.
“Tired?”
“A little. It’s all right.”
He falls silent when Wufei walks up to us, and stares intently at the elevator button. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve held them for two friends who just had an argument and are too stubborn to apologize to each other… but they haven’t been in any arguments and still the air is thick enough to cut through with a knife. A knife or a scythe.
Duo opens the mini bar as soon as we’re back into our hotel room, and mixes Bacardi and coke for himself, and gin and tonic for Wufei and me. I haven’t been aware of Wufei taking a liking to mixed drinks, but judging from the pace of his first sips, he likes them a lot. I take a sip of my drink and free myself of my necktie before sitting down. Duo shrugs off his jacket, loosening his tie as well and opening up the first two buttons of his shirt.
“I thought he was never going to shut up,” Wufei sighs. “Excellent work, Yuy, Maxwell. If it were a real business deal, we’d be rich by the end of the year.”
Duo lifts up his glass, as if he wants to toast. “No problem, my man. Piece of cake.”
“What did you learn from the tour?”
He takes a large swig before answering. “Too much. Everything’s just too much. Too much material, stored up to the roof. Too many people walking around. Too many projects at the same time. It’s not really fishy- superficially seen. All you see is a factory filled with steel and iron material and hard working people. Adalberto wasn’t tight-lipped, but tight-lipped enough not to divulge that much information. I know where the offices are, so we can always break in and swipe some of the hard drives.”
“Hack job?”
“If Duo places a modem I can download all the information you want. I doubt I can learn anything from hacking the company’s website. We need human resources files, the accounting files, sales and purchase files.”
Wufei looks back at Duo. “Do your findings warrant further investigation?”
“I certainly would create an opportunity to lift those files,” he answers, taking another sip of his drink. “Adalberto talked about four projects, which is already pretty much for such a specialized factory. I tried to hear him out about the projects, and as far as I could understand, there was far too much personnel and equipment on the premises.”
“Benedetti is purely acting for money,” I join in. “He’s one of those who will literally sell his mother if it’s profitable to him. He doesn’t see the consequences of delivering war material and the inevitable casualties involved; it’s just the money.”
“I’ll arrange for a flight over the factory grounds,” Wufei says, swirling the ice cubes around in his glass. “With infrared pictures we can see if there’s an extra level under the premises. The deal’s not made yet and I’ll probably be having another lunch with Benedetti before he makes a decision. It doesn’t matter in the end, naturally. I want you to visit the factory tomorrow night and lift its data from there. When we have that, we can always decide what measures we’re going to take.”
I’m finished with my glass and put it back onto the desk. “We’ll be at the factory tomorrow night. That leaves us with the day to prepare, but that won’t be a problem.”
“I don’t expect otherwise,” Wufei says and for a second, only for a second, it seems that something of our old bond is back. His trust that we can take care of this mission and carry it out without a problem is almost the unconditional trust he’s shown us before. It doesn’t deter me from having that private talk with him, though. That’ll have to wait after our nightly visit, but then I’ll have opportunities enough to talk to him.
Wufei leaves after declining a second drink, claiming he needs to do some work before going to bed. It’s late, but not that late yet, and Duo isn’t about to go to bed. I can see from his face that he’s already planning on how to approach the mission tomorrow night; breaking in is his forte, no doubt about that.
I stifle a yawn, rise from my chair and close the distance between us, caressing the outline of his face with my fingers. He looks up, a small smile gracing his lips.
“An Eurocent for your thoughts?”
“Italians sure know how to make great dinner,” he retorts, and I laugh.
“You ate well this night.”
“I always eat well. All this pasta is going to make me fat.”
“Swim another few laps, then.”
“Yes mom…” He tilts his head, his invitation to kiss him. I don’t hesitate for a second and place my lips on his skin. He brings up his hand immediately, placing it on my neck.
“Heero..”
“Hmmmyeah?”
“What did you talk about with Une this morning?”
Fuck damn! I notice my body tensing, and I know he has felt that as well. I can’t do with a simple “It was nothing” now.
“She wasn’t satisfied with some of our missions... or at least, the results from them,” I answer, hearing my voice not falter for a second. I know how to lie convincingly. I hate to do it.
“Results of our missions? What are you talking about?”
“You remember our mission in Eastbourne?”
“Of course I do. The Masterson list.”
“Remember the security guard?”
A slight hesitation. “The man ended up dead, while I knocked him unconscious.”
“… while you first claimed he didn’t see you at all.”
“That was fucking two years ago!”
“Not long enough.” I know my voice sounds harsh, but this has been bothering me for a long time. Duo has always shrugged it off whenever we talked about it, telling me that he mixed it up.
“Look, I’m very sorry for what happened to that man. I’ve seen the pictures as well, and it was horrible. I wouldn’t wish such a death upon anyone… but I wasn’t the one who killed him. When I was in Masterson’s study, I chopped him in the neck. He was unconscious but breathing when I left the room, and that’s it. If the Lady isn’t satisfied with my answer and my mission report, why is she asking you, and not me? I should be the one called to her. It was my responsibility.”
I kiss him on the cheek, not only because I want to kiss him, but also to win some time. Duo’s right, of course, but how can I talk my way out of this without giving him the impression that something more is going on, without giving too much away?
“We talked about this mission afterwards,” I say, keeping my fingers on his jawbone, gently caressing. “This is highly classified; only you, me, Wufei and Une know about it.”
He snorts. “What’s so fucking special about some asshole wanting to make gigantic profits from manufacturing Mobile Suits again? He doesn’t deserve half the attention he gets.”
“Une was very adamant about it,” is the only thing I can say in return.
“Fine, fine.” His face is distorted, though, but he doesn’t want to say out loud that he really doesn’t believe me. Duo’s never been one to lightly accuse someone of something; and he’ll never say out loud that he doesn’t believe me. I’m waiting for a “Bullshit!” exclamation, but it never comes.
“We better get some sleep, it’s getting late… and we have quite some preparations to do.”
“You’re right,” I say, not showing my disappointment. He puts his hand on my fingers before I can remove them and moves my hand up. He stares at my finger, the finger without the ring. He doesn’t wear his one either; the whole ‘we’re on a mission’ thing, remember?
“I so fucking hate this,” he mumbles, pressing a light kiss to my finger where the ring’s supposed to be. I leave him be. It bothers me as well, but we can’t present us as a couple in this line of work.
It’s the first time in quite a while that my sleep is disturbed and plagued by nightmares. I wake up around three; it’s dark and extremely cold in the room. It takes a precious minute for my eyes to get accustomed at the dark, and I move to head to read the time off from the alarm clock. Duo rests with his head on my chest, his arm draped loosely over my chest as well. I shiver; how can it be so cold in the room when it was such a beautiful day? I want to move my right arm, but Duo lies on top of it, as a cold, immobile statue. I frown. Since when is Duo so cold? I can move my left arm just fine and place my hand on his forehead- he’s as cold as an ice cube, and silent. Once again fear tightens my heart; I’m still not used to Duo lying so still in the bed, so unmoving and with a hardly noticeable breathing pattern.
“Duo,” I carefully whisper, even if I don’t know why I’d want to wake him. To tell him that he’s cold? He doesn’t respond anyway and I decide to shove him off, his arm over my chest weighing heavily and the coldness of his body discomforting me.
“Duo.” I touch his hair, sifting my hand through the strands. “Duo... what is happening to you? What is happening to us?”
It’s so silent, it’s so dark and it’s so cold, that it makes me feel the loneliest person on Earth, without a sound or a light from the outside world, without the usual warmth of the man I love. There haven’t been many situations in which I wanted to cry... but now that I do want to cry, my eyes remain dry and staring at the ceiling in the cold darkness. The darkness that seems to breathe next to me, as silent as he might be.
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The bed is empty again when I wake up and I force myself to get up, get dressed and take a shower. After I checked the encoded email - Wufei has sent us aerial photographs, I will take a look at them later - , I answer the door for the waiter with the breakfast cart, at exactly five minutes past six again. There’s no mauve envelope between the dishes, and I release the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
I swipe a piece of melon and grab a towel before hopping in the shower. I know I’ve had a nightmare last night, but I can’t recall what it was about. It wasn’t about the mission or Duo, that much I’m certain of.. it was just a mumble of visions and images flashing through my mind, as if it was short-circuiting or something. I shake my head, sending suds of shampoo all over the shower cabin. I rinse and turn off the hot water tap for good measure. Freezing, I step out of the cabin, drying myself off and dressing quickly before eating breakfast- more of the delicious melon, a grapefruit, and an orange; topping it off with some tea and honey.
Duo enters the room, returning from his usual swimming routine while I’m sitting behind the desk, studying the aerial pictures. He snags a ciabattini from the breakfast cart and saunters over to me, the smell of chlorine wafting.
“I didn’t know they still use chlorine in pools?”
“Bah, it’s a horror to my hair, that’s what it is,” Duo mutters, shoving the tuft of his braid into my face. “Split ends, dry, tangy. It’s a good thing we’re leaving soon!”
“Not before the mission’s over. Look at what Wufei has sent us.”
“Infrared and thermographic pictures? What did he use, a satellite?”
Knowing Wufei, he probably did- the ESUN has access to the most advanced technology, and can act on certain judicial grounds to justify the use of that technology. It’s a delicate point of discussion, and every year there’s someone asking questions from the political world- they want to know where ESUN is spending tax payer’s money, why ESUN uses certain equipment, blah blah blah… as if they don’t trust the organization that tries to maintain the balance between the colonies and Earth, juggling with millions of different interests and relations. Considering that probably 99,9% of the total population doesn’t know the ESUN has a certain division that Duo and I are a part of... why would people trust the organization? There’s so much more going on behind the scene than the average Joe realizes, and instead of accepting that people are working hard and taking tremendous risks for the sake of peacekeeping, they yak about why mean evil ESUN is spending their money on something different than they want to see it spent on.
I blink my eyes as a pencil dances in my eye field; it’s Duo pointing to a red line on the thermographic picture.
Chapter 8 | Chapter 10 |