Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters. I make no monetary profit off this story.

Other credits: Songs are credited at the end of the story. (Please note, the location was changed by the archivist.) Recognition should go to the late Mitch Hedburg for a couple of his wonderful one-liners used. In chapters 7, 11, 12, 15, 17, and 18, dialog from the anime was incorporated directly into the storyline. Acknowledgment goes to someone else for the 'cats are gay', 'knowing color names is gay', and other gay jokes sailing around the internet. And the New Age affirmations are not mine, but may seen and heard everywhere, even in the GW universe.

Warnings: AU, shounen-ai, yaoi in later chapters, some language, drugs (NC-17+)

Band of Steel
by Kaeru Shisho

"Again."

"But we have been over that ending three times now. We have it nailed."

The blond, blue-eyed boy shot a glance towards the bass player, silently imploring the other boy to come to his defense. He must want to take a break, too, right? Please?

Trowa said nothing and hid his expression behind a shock of long bangs. He shifted his bass guitar to ease his grip, but otherwise did not acknowledge that the argument required his input.

Quatre felt both disappointed and angered, muttering "coward" beneath his breath.

"Not yet, my rhythm was imperfect. I was off the beat," the half-Japanese boy insisted with an angry scowl.

"I agree," the Chinese boy said, folding his drumsticks back like a pair of katanas. "Until we are disciplined musicians, we have no business inflicting our music on the paying public."

"Okay," Quatre said, sighing, "but if I don't get a break soon, my fingers are going to freeze up and that will be the end of the keyboard contribution."

Heero nodded in the bass player's direction, giving him the cue to begin setting the rhythm. On the next downbeat, Wufei set a highlight with a crash of cymbals, and Heero fingered his final riff of the song.

Quatre's fingers flew over the tabs and keys, changing voices mid riff from flute to bells. He worried about Heero. As lead guitar, he set excruciatingly high standards for himself and the rest of the band. Quatre knew how Heero felt. He wanted to be the best. He wanted to win the Sanc Kingdom Battle of the Bands, and there wasn't much time left to prepare. What worried him most, though, was the singing. The keyboardist knew he had the clearest enunciation and the finest voice, but sitting behind the wall of synthesizer and keyboards made him hard to see, and audiences liked to see their lead singers perform as well as hear and understand them. He envied the guitarists who could stand and be seen at times.

Wufei pealed off the final roll and crashes as the squeal of guitar rose and fell, the bass ended, and the cords faded away. The faint tickling of bells and scent of patchouli signaled the arrival of their manager to the practice room.

"Perfect! That was perfect," the man said.

Quatre, cheered by the support, smiled and said, "I thought so an hour ago."

He liked their Zechs, who was four years older, already graduated from college, and beginning post-graduate courses next fall. At first, the band had asked him to be their lead singer, but Zechs had said he could only do that wearing a mask; he suffered from intractable stage fright. His suave, outgoing, and persuasive personality, not to mention his strikingly handsome features, contributed to Zechs' perfect fit as the band's manager and sometimes sound engineer. He also owned the estate which housed them and had his signature on the papers assigning him to be their guardian.

"It wasn't fit to listen to an hour ago," Wufei said, "but it is passable now."

Heero nodded with a nasal, "Hn."

Trowa's concurrence was a nod. He didn't even grunt as loudly as the Japanese boy.

Zechs smiled and toyed with the clear crystal hanging from his earring. "Good, because we need to hurry if we are going to make it to the club in time."

"Club! We're not performing tonight!" Quatre was absolutely certain they had no engagements this weekend.

"No, but there is someone else who is. His act doesn't begin until ten, but it's a two hour drive away and I want dinner." Zechs checked his watch, tapping it to set a timer. "If we leave now --

"Who." Heero didn't ask the question, he demanded an answer to the obvious unstated question hanging in the air like an eagle about to strike.

"I think you should see him first, but his act goes under the name Shinigami."

Heero sniffed and Wufei snorted indignantly.

"Never heard of him." Trowa said, speaking for them all, which was extraordinary. He rarely expressed any opinion.

Nevertheless, the four young men turned off the amps, locked up their instruments, and shut down the power on their way out the door to Zechs' minivan. Quatre sat up front beside Zechs, the designated driver. He knew the others wanted more details before seeing this "Shinigami," and he could be pretty good at teasing out information from reticent speakers. He could empathize well.

"Trowa is right. I've never heard of him either. Is his band better than ours?"

"His band? I don't know, but he is."

Quatre made a face. "He is not in a band then?"

"He is, but the band's not here. Just him and a sound technician that plays synthesizer to back him up."

"What's the band's name? Maybe we've heard of that."

"Not likely."

"What's the damn secret, Zechs?" Heero's limit reached on an empty stomach. He had had enough evasiveness.

"No secret!" Zechs chuckled and turned into a fast food takeout line, vegetarian only.

All five placed their orders, let Zechs pay, and waited until they had eaten and were on the road again before trying a new tactic. This time, Wufei was in the front passenger seat. Quatre hoped the two men's competitiveness would rile Zechs a little and get him to reveal more. He envied how the other boy could stand up to anyone, and wished he could be more assertive like Wufei Chang.

"Where's this singer's band, Zechs?"

"I honestly don't know."

"This is stupid." Heero snarled from the back.

Quatre knew Heero was mad because his vegi-burger with sprouts had waxy white cheese instead of waxy, tasteless yellow-colored cheese. Heero couldn't have actually tasted the difference. It was the principle. Quatre bit his lip to contain a giggle.

"This is a waste of our time and you know it," Wufei said, challengingly. "If we knew the whole story, we wouldn't have agreed to come along, and you are a controlling man. I wouldn't put it past you to have engineered this entire escapade just to make us take that 'necessary break' you keep harping about."

"Done?" Zechs asked. He smiled at Wufei and Quatre just knew that was only to irritate him more.

"I am when you concede to this deceit."

"I am not making this up on the pretense of making you take a break, although, that's a good point, too."

"Then why not tell us what we need to know before seeing this... Shinigami singer?" Wufei carefully ennuciated the foreign word.

"The God of Death."

"What was that, Yuy?" Zechs asked.

Heero glared in the rear view mirror. "Shinigami is a Japanese word meaning the God of Death."

"Oh, dear," Quatre said.

He couldn't help but think the singer must be terribly egotistical to go by a name like that. His other team mates, well, barring the silent Trowa, were bad enough to be around at times. Another swollen ego to butt heads with, they did not need.

Zechs was laughing. "Well, that's interesting."

"If you don't slow down, I will drive," Wufei snapped.

Zechs slowed the car. "You don't know where to go."

"I would take us home by any way possible. Heero could navigate."

"Your inner knowing is your only true compass," Zechs canted.

This nugget of wisdom was greeted by moans then silence reigned for a few miles.

"Where'd you say he was from?" Trowa asked. He didn't press. He asked as if he had missed the other conversations and just thought of the question.

"His band is the hottest thing on L2. Called the Sweepers. That's all I know," Zechs said. "But it's him that's playing tonight. It's him that we are seeing."

He shoved in a CD, cranked up the volume, and ended any further discussion, which was a good thing because most of talk turned to whining and moaning that everything out of L2 was practically garbage. Now Quatre understood why Zechs delayed telling them until they were on the highway and committed to going. Arrogant and trashy. Oh, my.

Quatre was surprised at the crowd. Zechs wasn't, apparently, because he had ordered tickets beforehand. He passed by the line of young people, decked out in an array of clothing from average to deviant -- black, ripped, nearly naked, pierced, and almost beautiful -- ignoring whistles and angry complaints as he pushed to the front of the box office window.

"I have tickets waiting for 'will call'." He flashed a dazzling smile and an ID.

Quatre held back a laugh. As if the Prince of the Sanc Kingdom needed to show an ID! Of course, the privileged position of prince no longer held power, since the government of the Federation of City States had been established, but he and his sister were all that was left of the royalty, and people loved royalty, beautiful royalty. And what beauties they were!

Relena's sweet but serious demeanor and her dedicated role in the student government of her high school endeared her to her public. For that reason, she had transferred to a school overseas. Quatre wondered when she would be returning.

The line moved and Quatre followed along deep in thought. Poor, Zechs. Always in the public eye. The scandal-hungry paparazzi hounded the platinum-haired, towering young man when he was in town, which he rarely was for that reason. Relena and Zechs' faces were as familiar as the ones on the paper money, not that you saw much of that any more. Plastic held sovereignty over all in the realm.

"Quatre!"

"I'm coming!" Quatre shouted, dashing to keep up with his band mates, who had disappeared into the throngs waiting to be admitted.

Advance ticket holders were being admitted. Prince Zechs, naturally, could be first, if he liked, and he did. Locating their seats was easy -- front and center. Between them and the raised stage was a roped off area for dancing, Quatre assumed, although he hadn't seen many similar venues. For a rock band member, his wealth of experiences was slim; he hadn't been clubbing at all.

After that, it took another hour to fill the hall to near capacity, and an hour more to patiently sit through a forgettable local opening act before the lights dimmed. Quatre sucked in his breath as an oppressive air of expectancy surrounded him, threatening to overwhelm his sensitive nature. He held his breath, the anticipation unbearable, and then just as he thought he might burst, the curtain rose again, revealing a dark-haired girl standing at a simple, outdated synthesizer. Outpoured the distinctive pounding of a well-known hip-hop number, flooding the airwaves with BEAT, and driving the audience to shouting and clapping in synch. He eased the air from his lungs, relaxing with the release of tension around him.

"Gods, not this garbage. Really, Zechs, you know we hate this," Wufei groaned.

Wufei was loud enough to be heard over the rising noise and around Heero, whose body blocked Wufei from Quatre's sight. Quatre could feel Heero bristling in agreement. On his left, Trowa loosened up, moving to the beat.

"L2, music of the streets," Trowa said.

Quatre looked over and met his smile, shyly. "I like the dancing best."

"Me, too," Trowa said, his tone mild.

He winked at Quatre in a shared moment of camaraderie before centering his attention on the stage. With an effort, Quatre withdrew his eyes from the other boy and followed his gaze. The spotlight moved, as if searching for the enigmatic star of the show.

One minute nothing, the next -- there he was!

Dancing. Loose, tan pants, slung low on his gyrating hips, sloppy red shirt that was rolled up at the sleeves, bare feet slapping on the hardwood floor, keeping time with the music, and the longest, past-the-ass braid Quatre had ever seen. He traded grins with his equally pleased band mate.

"Dude's good," Trowa said.

"He looks fifteen at most," Quatre noted.

Not that he and the rest of the band looked their ages. Trowa nodded and turned back to the show. The dancer started to sing, or rap, his poem to the crowd.

"It's not where you're from...
It's where you're at..."

His diction was flawless; what he had to say was bleak. He spoke to the darkness inside everyone.

"Before it all comes together,
things fall apart..."

Quatre felt from the encouraging and enthusiastic shouts and reactions from his audience that the words struck to the core of how they felt.

"Just chalk it up and add it to the elevation...!"

"Hip hop," Wufei said with a sniff, making it sound like an insult.

"Rap!" Quatre snapped in return. "The music is rap; Hip hop is a way of life."

Wufei leaned around Heero, his eyes glittering and his tone cutting. "As I said, hip hop."

Heero, seated between the two feuding boys, pushed them both back in their chairs with a hissed "Shut up!" filled with lethal intent.

The next number was another of the same genre, but sassier and funnier, but from the look on Heero's face, Quatre would have guessed the performer was insulting him personally. He was happy Wufei was out of his line of sight. Zechs met his gaze over the heads of the other two boys with a sly smile, and with a shimmer of silver, turned his head back to the performer. Trowa smiled in wry amusement, and bumped shoulders, causing Quatre to grin in return, pleased to have someone to share in the fun.

The music altered unexpectedly, throbbing to a traditional rock and roll beat. The singer launched into a raunchy cover of several songs back-to-back, all the time dancing and swinging that long, brown, braid. His voice soared powerfully over the synthesizer, demonstrating a phenomenal range of highs and lows. And could he emote!

Dancing youth crowded into the limited space to bounce and writhe with The God of Death. Shinigami had every right to be proud of himself, Quatre thought. He was exciting. Lusty.

The music faded at the end of a song, and the braided singer spun and faced the audience, grinning rakishly, and bowing slightly in recognition of their support. "Be back in ten," he said in a low sexy voice that caused Quatre to blush. "Don't go away."

"Like I could," he whispered back.

He was thankful for the momentary darkness in the hall, while he recovered his composure. That guy oozed magnetism, pulling everyone in the crowd into his musical universe while he was on stage, and holding him under the illusion that he was their god. Bow down, heathens all!

Wufei stood. "Well, thank you, Zechs. I think we've all had enough for the evening."

Heero grabbed him by the collar and yanked him back into his seat. "Sit."

"W-what! Y-you..." Wufei stuttered, unable to fathom that Heero could host an opinion of the singer in defiance of own. "... like that noise and blur on stage? I thought you were a musician who appreciated the better things in life."

Quatre was taken aback by the ferocity in his band mate's tone. Not that Heero needed or would appreciate his words, but Quatre felt driven to come to the defense of both Heero and the performer.

"He's electrifying, Wufei! Can't you tell how his performance affects the crowd here? I wish I could deliver lyrics like that."

"He's right," Heero said.

"He is what the band needs," Zechs affirmed. "Sex appeal, talent, allure."

"Sex appeal?" Wufei's lip curled into a smirk. "I wouldn't know."

"That is your shortcoming, Chang," Zechs said with a long, slow sigh. "People come to be entertained, not just to hear the music. Give them both and you win the prize."

"He's very appealing," Quatre put in. "That braid -- do you think it's real?"

"Sex with a braid."

Everyone turned to stare at Trowa, who had spoken. He held up a flyer and waved it. "A reviewer said that."

Wufei's face scrunched up into a frown. "I don't find boys appealing, Barton. You might, or might not, but I don't. If his second half is as coarse as his first, I don't care what the rest of you think -- I won't consider him worthy of carrying our equipment."

"I doubt he'd want to join our band anyway," Quatre said.

Saddened by Wufei's unwarranted prejudice against the boy from L2, he didn't want to get his hopes up. What would this engaging personality gain by joining their band? It wasn't as if he needed them. No, Quatre didn't think this boy would give up his success just so he could become some mythical, magical bean elevating them to stardom.

"He's not traveling with his band," Heero said. "He might want a change."

"He probably wants a ticket off L2," Wufei said. He looked pleased to have discovered another way to criticize the singer, leaving Quatre mystified as to why his friend was so adamantly negative. "You know, the natives can't come planet-side without a solid job and place to live, and once they lose that *snap* back they go."

"That's unjustified!" Quatre blurted out. "We are all from the colonies. If it weren't for Zechs and his...compassion, we'd never have been provided for and given this chance. Don't disparage another for wanting the same opportunity, if, in fact, he actually does!"

Wufei's chin elevated and his face cracked a smile, "Gods, you are in love with the street rat. Your kind is so easily seduced it just slays me."

Quatre felt the heat from shouting continue to rise, coloring his neck and face all the way to his scalp. "My kind -- ?! That's not true -- any of it! I'm not easy. I'm in love with a boy, but not that one, not somebody I don't even know! Oh!"

Quatre slammed a hand over his mouth. Trowa's feet shifted. Heero's glare shot from one face to another, ending with Wufei. Zechs coughed discretely.

"Well, now that we've cleared that up. How about we sit back and enjoy the second half of his set?"

Quatre sank lower into his hard-backed seat. He had just succumbed to Wufei's malicious remarks, out-ed himself to his band mates, and intimated he had a lover. Mortified about summed up how he felt. All he didn't reveal was who he had fallen for. Wouldn't that have been the end-all revelation of the evening, he thought to himself. It certainly would have meant an end to the band.

He closed his eyes and wished himself capable of falling in love with the pretty girl his sisters' had chosen for him to date. He'd be married, in charge of a worldwide company, and faraway on colony L4. Instead he was a child, gay, single, in love with a member of his own struggling band -- who had said, maybe, twelve words to him -- and living off the benevolence of the ex-Prince of Sanc. It would take a miracle to make his life better. He was, however, an optimist who whole-heartedly believed in miracles.

He remained huddled in on himself as the lights dimmed, flickered as a warning for the show to begin. Quatre ignored his friends sitting around him. He blocked out all empathic lines of communication. He didn't want to know how they were feeling about him. All he wanted was to enjoy the entertainment.

As if the entertainment couldn't get any more strident or wilder, the lighting flashed in alternating colors, washing the stage in a kaleidoscope of changing hues, and signaling the return of Shinigami. The music ratcheted up as the dancer exploded onto the stage. His costume had changed. His loose khakis were replaced with daringly ripped black jeans clinging tenuously to the dancer's hips. He was wearing no underwear, Quatre could tell. The shirt's bright color warranted wearing it a few more seconds, before the dancer ripped it off and flung it to the stage floor, revealing a clingy, skimpy black tank and very toned shoulders and arms and chest and everything Quatre could see.

Sex with a braid, no --

"Shit."

Quatre straightened but he couldn't tell whether Heero or Trowa or both had finished his thought. Both band mates were staring, mesmerized, by the dancer, enthralled to the voice that was tearing into a rocker without consideration for his vocal cords. One song blended disharmoniously with the next, until he broke into a falsetto for a cover of Darkness' "Hazel Eyes" that made Quatre's skin break out with goose bumps.

Thinking about eyes, made him remember the statistics he'd looked up one day. Only two percent of humans have truly green eyes, making them the rarest color to have. He rubbed his arms, shivering with a sudden frisson only an infatuation could arouse. Only when the nearest green eye widened in question, did Quatre realize he'd been staring brazenly at his band mate and missing the escalating show on stage.

Shinigami danced in a fevered madness, the techno music deafening. As he spun and circled, a hand loosened the tie restraining his braid in its tight configuration, freeing the strands to fly and fly and fly like ribbons on a May pole, becoming just as phallic a fertility symbol. The hair tips licked the floor, untamed like the feral dancer who wailed and screamed the lyrics to earsplitting intensities.

Quatre wondered where that slim body hid the reserves. The expenditure of energy had to be tremendous. He thought of Medusa. The sweat-soaked hair whipped into ropes that slapped against the singer's back. Or whips. What must it feel like to be whipped bloody by your own hair? Shinigami fiercely ripped out a lung to surpass the thunderous roar of the song's finale. He collapsed on one knee, his sides heaving, hands flattened on the floor, arms spread, shaking to support his weight. Sweat joined hair to puddle at his feet and hands, forming a complete circle around his body.

The roar from the mosh pit was deafening as the music that had driven it. The audience was on its feet shouting a rhythmic "Encore! Encore!" more out of habit and respect than out of any hope that the poor kid could belt out one last note. Still, the pleading continued, the people, beseeching their god for one last attempt at spiritual enrichment.

He struggled to stand one more time. The small, black-haired keyboard player flicked a switch, setting a steady, throbbing beat, and then she stalked off stage. Shinigami was alone, head down, pulling energy from the air, the beat, the souls charged with expectation.

Quatre felt a rush of cooler air and noticed a dark gap where Heero had been clapping moments before. He looked around, even down. Wufei was looking under his seat, but possibly he was looking for his dignity amongst the detritus, Quatre thought. An elbow nudged his ribs and Trowa cocked his head toward the front.

To Quatre's disbelief, he spotted Heero pushing through the mosh pit. Okay, Heero slamdancing in the pit was unreal, and, on second glance, Quatre saw that he wasn't grooving but he was shoving his way to the stage. Before he made it, however, Shinigami bowed elegantly to his fans, threw them a kiss and wearily walked off, stage right. What had Heero wanted to tell the performer, Quatre wondered? He was about to go drag his band member back, when the lights softened to a warm, glow, painting the stage in honeyed hues.

Shinigami was back. With only the thrumming drum beat to back him, he was going to sing. As he stood, counting out the beats, preparing himself, he looked amazing, like a living, breathing effigy, shining with sweat, awash in molten gold, cinnamon tresses draped over and around his shoulders and tumbling in loose waves to his ankles. He parted his lips. His soft voice was raw, throaty and sexy.

"I am alone,
But adored
By a hundred thousand more..."

Is he more like a primitive idol or an insect encased in amber, forever trapped, Quatre wondered? He turned slightly to his left when he thought he heard Trowa made a choking sound.

"Yeah, like...that's like our signature song," Trowa said.

Quatre nodded, "We only cover it. It's not ours. He has every right to do Dandy Warhol's 'The Last High.'"

"And I have known love
Like a whore
From at least ten thousand more..."

When he started the chorus, the entire audience joined in on the "Hi-ii-igh;" at least, Quatre did, and it wasn't his part. He had sung the lead with his band, but hearing the self-proclaimed God of Death, charging the lyrics with pain, slowly extracted from his gut, Quatre knew he'd never sing it again. Not now. Not after hearing it sung by the husky voice of a god.

Heero had not moved away from his hard-fought position at the edge of the stage. Anyone daring to push or nudge him was subjected to his assassin's death glare. Shinigami had nothing over him when it came to murderous stares. When Quatre caught sight of him, he started, jerking his arms out, ready to vault over the rope to get to Heero. He felt strong feelings from Heero, mixed, confused. Hate and love were both strong and often confused. Quatre took one step, but a firm grip on his shoulder kept him in place.

"Stay back."

"But, what if..." Quatre blinked at his green-eyed friend and cleared his suddenly taut throat. "Er... ah... I won't let Heero hurt that beautiful boy!"

"He won't." Trowa closed his eyes, concealing his inner thoughts, before looking away. He didn't know about the sensitive young man's empathic abilities, or he wouldn't have bothered trying.

"When you were the last high
High-igh-igh
Igh-igh-igh
Igh-igh"

Once the singing had begun, Quatre had forgotten to block the feelings around him. He rode the wave of excitement along with the audience of fans. Lulled into the rising and falling of the moods to match that of the emotive singer, the sensitive boy jumped when stung by a nearby counter emotion. Jealousy? Quatre wondered if he'd read that feeling correctly. Had he made Trowa jealous over Heero? No, he'd called attention several times to the striking singer, and how he moved him. It wasn't love, though! He had to correct that impression.

"I mean, it could get him into trouble and that would be bad for the band. I have no personnel interest, other than that."

Quatre bobbed his head, putting on his stern face to underscore his lack of interest in either the singer or Heero, beyond the welfare of the band. Beside him the silent boy shrugged indifferently. He offered no remarks to comfort or relieve his anxious friend. Uncertain what more he could say, Quatre turned his focus back to the performance. He envied Wufei's directness right then. He wished he could be bolder. He sighed, resigned to appear pathetic and weak again. Shinigami was in no way weak.

The long-haired boy was bending over, grazing the fingertips of fans pressed close to the stage, while continuing to sing. His raspy voice grew hoarser with each verse. He sounded on the verge of tears. He reached the stage where Heero stood, and knelt as he sang the words:

"So maybe you loved me but now
Maybe you don't..."

He was almost nose-to-nose with the blue-eyed, Japanese boy when he sang:

"And maybe you'll call me..."

He paused, skipping a few beats, his wide expressive, violet-colored eyes locking onto Heero's, and held ... two...three...four... then smiled, singing:

"Maybe you won't."

In a single fluid movement, the God of Death stood, shrugged, and ambled away finishing the song. He even danced a little, turned, but caught himself in a graceful near-fall. He grinned and stepped dance-like, swaying to the rhythm of the steady beat, reaching now the far side of the stage. He paused to shut off the synthesizer, waved one last time over his shoulder, and left for good.

It was over. The crowd roared its approval knowing they had been blessed. They had offered him their admittance fee, and their god, in turn, had given them everything he had, heart and soul. Quatre was afraid to say anything in fear of desecrating the moment.

Wufei, totally unabashed by his earlier deprecating remarks, acknowledged that the spell was broken. "Well, he certainly is loud."

Quatre was about to slap his face, but again, a calming spirit loomed close. He didn't want to make a scene. He reigned in his annoyance, and said nothing. Let the drummer make an ass of himself. He was, after all, the only one that didn't get the jokes about drummers. What do you call a drummer with half a brain? Gifted. What do you call someone who hangs around with musicians? A drummer.

Quatre started to chuckle as he remembered more jokes. What's the difference between a drummer and a drum machine? You only have to punch the information into the drum machine once. Trowa once told this one, he recalled with a smile: Why do bands have bass players? To translate for the drummer. Laughter bubbled up and threatened to overflow as he remembered one of his favorites, told by Heero, of all people: Why do guitarists put drumsticks on the dash of their car? So they can park in the handicapped spot.

"What's so damned funny, now, Winner?"

Of course, that kind of attitude tipped the scales in favor of hysterical laughter, and the blond sank into his seat. Zechs, meanwhile, wrapped an arm over both Wufei and Trowa's shoulders to get their attention. "I have backstage passes."

Wufei opened his mouth, and then closed it, his eyes following Heero's movement a short distance off. "Where does he think he's going?"

"Ha, looks like Yuy's got his own pass," Zechs said. "Shall we join him and the singer backstage, then?"

Chapter 2 -- Mr. Boombastic

After the show, Heero wasted no time waiting for Zechs and the others. He skirted the edge of the stage until he found the stage door, moving swiftly and in silence, avoiding detection. He caught a glimpse of his target walking slowly down the hallway to the dressing rooms. Limping.

"Just a minute there!" bellowed a deep voice from behind him. "You're not allowed back here."

A meaty hand on his collar brought him up roughly. Heero reached around, and with a vise-like grip of his own removed the unwanted hand. "Don't touch me," Heero snarled.

"'Sokay, bubba," the singer's raspy voice called out. "He can come back."

Heero's head snapped around in time to catch a glimpse of saucy smile and flashing violet eyes. He squared his shoulders and loped off without a second thought to the grumbling bouncer in his wake. Rounding the corner, he was fast enough to see the boy disappear past an unmarked door. The place was a dive, but most venues for music were.

A scrawny arm blocked his way past the open door. He recognized the arm belonging to the girl who played on stage, providing the only techno-instrumental background music for the act. Good thing he'd taken the moment to study the arm. He had considered breaking it to get past.

"Give him a minute, okay?" the girl asked.

Heero watched as the near-naked singer collapsed on a chair, dousing his head with a bottle of water then drinking the rest in a single breath. Heero wanted. He wanted to be that bottle. He wanted those lips drinking him in.

When he picked up the second bottle, set it down, then lay his head on his arms on the dressing table, Heero stepped aside and let the girl close the door. Clearly, the singer needed a few minutes to rest. He could do that. Heero could wait a few minutes longer.

"Gotta smoke," she said and cocked her head for him to follow her to out the door with the EMERGENCY EXIT sign. "Duo disabled it for me," she said providing all the explanation necessary.

"Duo? Duo is Shinigami?"

"Yeah, that's him. Who are you?"

"Heero Yuy."

"Heero, huh? Kinda funny, ya know? Your name means like 'one' or something and his means 'two' in some language."

"Hn," Heero grunted. "You know some Japanese."

"It's part of the colony lingo on L2. Lots of Japanese stationed there once. I guess the environmental's worked back then...then they left, the technicians did, and things have been falling apart ever since. Kinda sad. But it keeps the elite out of our hair."

She shot him a leer revealing slightly crooked teeth and chuckled as she dug through her bag for her pack of cigarettes and lighter. Heero wanted. He wanted to squeeze out every last bit of information about Duo from the girl. When he didn't say anything, she went on.

"Um, I'm Hilde, by the way. So, what's you interest in Duo? It had better be music-related, 'cause he didn't come all the way here just to get laid."

Heero felt the blood drain from his face. He could want that, now that she mentioned it. "I'm with my band. Our manager wanted us to see the show. I don't know what his purpose was, but our band is missing something and Shinigami, Duo, satisfies the requirements. We are entering the Sanc Kingdom Battle of the Bands, and I want to win. I want to be the best."

"Oh? Well, Duo's the best at what he does, only --" She lit up and puffed lightly to get the paper smoldering. "Nobody knew that off-L2, until this weekend."

"How was the first show?"

"Pretty good. After the break, more kids came in. Guess friends called friends. The next, let's see...that was Thursday night, nearly packed. Real exciting that one. Then tonight. You saw -- sold out! He's going places I know."

Heero gave her a curt nod of agreement. Duo was star material. The singer could supernova in his universe. Heero did not see the girl fitting into the Cosmos According to Yuy.

"Another dude stopped by last night. I didn't like him much. Too...serious in a greedy kind of way. Old guy. I thought he'd be back again tonight, but I'm way glad he didn't make it."

"Who was it?"

"I dunno. Funny name. He gave me a card. Lemme see... here it is! Treize Khushrenada."

"He's an important man in the recording industry."

She grinned. "But you don't like him either."

Heero smiled, slightly. "No. He is quick to slap a name on you, pigeon hole you. He can make you money, while killing your creativity."

"Oooh, bad for Duo. He's all for freedom of expression, as you probably can tell."

"Hn." He thought about that, adding another fact to his growing list: Duo was expressive.

"He's a pretty cute guy, too, don't you think?" Her tone was teasing and Heero knew that she was only trying to provoke him into revealing his feelings.

Heero looked away and shrugged. He could do stoic impressions well. He had plenty to say, but not aloud and not to her. "He draws attention."

"Sure does. Sex with a braid! Ha! Some dude put that on the flyer!"

If she was expecting a reaction from him, then he was sure to disappoint her, not that she let it show. She held a lungful of tranquilizing smoke then released it into the smoky cloud around her.

"If the rest of the guys in your band are as dull as you, no offense, I mean... You gotta grab the audience and wring the applause outta them sometimes. Duo can do that, but also he gives himself. He opens his heart and shares his bad and good stuff. That's what people want. They want the guy up there to entertain them and care, not just take the money and do his thing like it or not. But...you felt that, right?"

"Yes. He made me want..." but he didn't finish his thought aloud. He didn't wish to share his innermost and private thoughts with a stranger. He looked at the door, willing himself to be back in close association with the spring of desire.

The girl sucked on her cigarette, held the smoke in her lungs then blew it out in a steady stream. "Yeah, he makes me want, too."

"Who are you?" Heero asked.

"Hilde Schbeiker, like I said. Short memory?"

"I meant, what are you to Duo?"

"What's left of his band? Oh, you mean... I get it. His girlfriend, maybe?"

Again, Heero looked off into the distance, and then turned back to the door. That was not what he had wanted to hear, but what he had sought to discover. Hilde stubbed out her cigarette on the cement step.

"We should get back and save him from your friends."

"Hn," Heero agreed.

The boy called Shinigami collected his voluminous locks, twisted them into a loose ponytail, and tied it at the nape of his neck with a strip of denim from his ripped jeans. He was tired, but interest energized him to meet these attractive young men who had been thoughtful enough to request backstage passes ahead of time. No one had ever done that before. Hilde had shaved off the hot dude with the deadly eyes. He smiled. No way was she getting any action from him. He had seen the need in his eyes and the lust. Nope, that guy was not looking up girl's skirts. With a sigh, he hoped he'd be back, but first he needed to collect his wits for his guests.

"Don't get up, please. Rest. We should introduce ourselves. I am Zechs Merquise, the band's manager."

"Holy, shit!" the boy said as he stretched out his smaller hand to shake. A dingy towel fell from his neck to the floor. "Wait'll the gang hear's about this." He released the grip and waved his hand in the air. "This hand has touched royalty!"

He laughed at his own silliness, but still regarded the man with a touch of awe. Zechs was tall, nearly one foot taller than Duo -- more now because Duo was sitting down -- with an elegant bearing, a sweep of silvery hair past his shoulders, steel-blue eyes, and a long straight nose. His loose pants and poet's shirt were matching unbleached linen, embellished with beads at the cuffs. The man was well-bred and poised -- everything Duo Maxwell felt he was not. It didn't take an inferiority complex to feel second-rate around Zechs.

Zechs returned a kind smile. "Well, not any more, not really." He gestured toward Trowa. "This is --"

"Lemme guess what they play, all right?" the entertainer begged. "I'm good at this."

"Very well, but first, what is your name? I can't possibly keep referring to you as Shinigami," Zechs said.

"Oh, yeah. Duo Maxwell. You can call me Duo. The Shinigami thing, that's just a stage name, ya know?"

He smiled coyly. He bent over to scrape the towel off the ground then continued to wipe down his chest.

"Gotta get up," he said to himself mostly, wincing slightly as he put pressure on his throbbing, sole-beaten feet. "Damn, hurts more than usual."

He studied the slightly taller boy with the reddish-amber hair and the dusting of freckles. His eyes dropped to Trowa's left hand and he motioned to touch it.

"May I?"

Trowa either didn't care or didn't know what Duo meant, but he nodded a fraction anyway, which was enough for Duo to go ahead, reach for the left hand, cradle it and rub it with his fingers. Trowa's eyebrows shot up, but he didn't pull his hand away. Duo dropped it and grinned.

"Bass player, right? Oh yeah! Calluses, man. Those heavy strings'll do it every time."

"That's cool," he told him. "Name's Trowa. I do flute sometimes, too."

"Flute? That's really cool...ah...Trowa. Tro-wa. Got it," Duo smiled again and moved over, examining Quatre. "You know, I don't see guys like you on L2 at all."

Off guard, Quatre frowned and retorted, "I'm not soft, if that's what you mean! I'm a smart fighter."

"Whoa! Steady there, blondie. Didn't mean any offense, really. It's just that fair hair is quite rare, that's all."

He wisely bit back the part about "especially cute ones with gentle blue eyes that are pretty and definitely fuck-bait out on the streets." It was the right thing to do, Duo decided, because in the next moment the sweet-tempered boy smiled back with a faint blush of embarrassment.

"Sorry, Duo. I jumped to conclusions. It's just, well, here," he stuck out his hands, palms up. "Guess what I do."

Duo grinned and lightly touched the fair skin, noting the manicured nails, and turning the hands over once before looking up. "Keyboards, right? That or synth, techo-something, but sometimes... This hand it very strong with light calluses, but not enough that you play guitar, so I'm not sure where you get those."

Quatre grinned, extremely pleased. "Violin! You are very good, Duo. I'm the keyboardist and I play the synthesizer for the band, but I studied violin formally. I'm Quatre Winner."

"Quatre." Duo repeated, sounding it out as "cat-tra."

"Yes, I'm actually from L4."

"Oh yeah? Another colony brat, eh?"

"Yes, we all are. Trowa?" Quatre paused waiting for Trowa to give him permission to say more. "He's from L3."

As Duo and Trowa traded colony jabs, he noticed the hot guy at the doorway, and Hilde hot on his heels. Quatre hurried to include him, and things really started heating up

"We were letting Duo guess what we do in the band. Meet Duo Maxwell."

"I know. His girlfriend told me."

"Girlfriend?" Duo asked.

Duo figured by Hilde's smug look that his face must have reflected how he felt -- confusion combined with distrust all in one. He was pleased to find that the hot guy was with the others, part of the same band. He wasn't sure why he was so certain Duo had a girlfriend, unless Hilde had told him. Right. She'd been teasing the guy, Duo guessed.

She smiled as she concentrated on unfolding a gum wrapper and shoved the thin, pink candy into her mouth. "Hilde here."

"Um, she's not my girlfriend, just a girl - space -- friend. What's left of our band."

"So, there is no Sweepers band anymore?" Zechs asked. "Just the two of you."

"Pretty much, yeah," the girl said. She snapped her gum and twisted the piercing on her eyebrow. "The others, they didn't wanna risk losing what real jobs they got just to come Earth-side. Sweepers make okay money, shuttling crap back and forth around the colonies. It leaves time for playin' clubs on base, and as long as you stick to L2, well, that's okay, not too far to go after the show's done. You know, friends to put cha up all over, but comin' here -- There's hotels, food, stuff that all costs more than the gig pays. So, when Duo got this gig, they wished him luck and signed off."

"But not you," Heero noted.

Duo studied the stern-faced boy and determined that Heero was pressing for conclusive evidence that he and Hilde weren't in a relationship. He smiled at that. Obviously, Heero was making such a big deal out of it was because he wanted a go at him. Well, that's nice, too, Duo thought.

"Well, a promise is a promise, but this is the last time. A girl's gotta make a livin', right? And I'm not some whore, for you all that think L2 girls are only good for one thing." She focused her beady eyes on each of the strangers, challenging them to deny her charge. When no one spoke up, she continued, "I'm licensed to pilot the smaller junkets. Pays lots better'n the band."

"But this is the last, you say?" Heero asked.

"You're pretty relentless, aren't cha?" Hilda grinned at Heero until he looked away, and then she blew an impressive bubblegum bubble. "Why don't cha introduce yerself to Duo?"

"If I do, will you answer my question?"

"Sure, you just tell my friend here what you go by and where you hail from."

"Heero Yuy. L1."

"Lead guitar, I'll bet." Duo stuck out his hand, waiting.

Heero cautiously moved his own until they touched, then gave the other boy a quick, sharp greeting. His grip was like a steel trap. Duo yelped and waved his fingers in the air, blowing on them dramatically.

"Damn! You do weights or something dangerous like that on the side? That's no guitar grip, I can tell ya."

"I work out," Heero said with a smug smile. "So," he lowered his deep blue eyes, casting his cold glare onto the articulate girl. "This is your last, what --? Gig?"

"Yeah, that's right. Couldn't let this pretty boy travel alone to the big city, could I?"

"Hilde!" Duo grumbled as he fell back onto his chair.

"It's true!"

She laughed, but Duo could tell the others weren't sure if she meant what she'd implied. On L2 he had his buds, his group, his people that banded together and gave him safe refuge. He wasn't sure how it was other places, but no young men or women should be alone in a strange place, he felt. On the other hand, taken another way, she'd just implied he was rather sexually free. No secret there, he'd already said he was from L2.

If L2 was known for anyone thing, it was for its legalized prostitution. Of all the colonized worlds, only that one was unable to crawl back from the downward spiral, which had begun during the war for independence. Gangs roamed the streets, drug lords and pimps ran the economy of the boroughs. Since the rest of the world was happy to have a place for all the vermin to live, nothing was done about it except to construct anti-immigration laws to keep L2 on L2. Of course, the natives of L2 were aware and distrustful of the outside world, Earth-side in particular.

"I was hoping he'd hit it big and find a backup band or a venue with a stage band so I could hit the road," Hilde finished having her say.

Duo chuckled and drank more water. "You know, follow your dream, unless it's the one where you're at work in your underwear during a fire drill Anyway.... So, you guys here for a purpose? I mean, it's not like you're transparent or anything, but you don't look like gang-bangers or groupies."

The short, Chinese-looking dude snorted. "Gods, I have had enough."

Zechs smiled and cleared his throat. "We were hoping to meet Shinigami, and, if all parties were agreeable, get to know each other with the intention of inviting him into the band. I'd make an offer now, but I know this is rather sudden. Instead, I was hoping you'd come see where the band lives and practices. Get to know us."

"Oh, excuse me for interrupting the introductions," the manager continued, "but are you traveling with one of your parents or a guardian? I was wondering, in case we go any place I will need parental consent, assuming you are less than 18 years of age. We could get that started while we wait."

Duo yanked out an ID card from the jacket draped over the back of the chair. "No parents, but that's chill, man. I'm legal."

"This is a shuttle pilot's license!"

"Yeah, I'm a sweeper. Ya don't think I make enough doing this to earn a living, do ya? I got plans, and plans take money to carry out."

"You fly a shuttle?" the Chinese guy croaked in disbelief. His face turned scornful. "Impossible. It's a fake."

Duo looked out from under his long chestnut bangs, chin down, teeth bared in a tense grin. In spite of his exhausted state, he lit out of his chair and landed inches from him, his sudden move causing Wufei to step back.

"Fake? You are pretty clueless if you think anyone can fake a shuttle pilot's license. Hold it up, Zechs. See the wires, the embedded holographic images? Can't be done. Still don't believe me? Call USLA, that's the Universal Shuttle Licensing Agency, drummer boy. Number's on the back. Or... scan the barcode. Or... look at my hands. These are calluses you get from gripping the controls handles for hours at a time."

The Chinese boy's face blanched from gold to butter. His eyes narrowed, seething with barely leashed anger. Duo smiled then, and knew the other guy wanted nothing more than to punch his grin into the back his head.

"Yeah, drummer boy. Gotcha pegged right, don't I? You know what they say about drummers, don'tcha?"

Wufei nearly burst apart. "I am not stupid! I am taking AP level classes and will be starting college soon. AP, that's Advanced Placement, in academia."

Duo shrugged and smiled wanly. "What made you think I meant stupid? A good drummer takes tons of practice, hard work, strength, and endurance. So does a being a shuttle pilot. I just figured you and me would share something, that's all. Always wanted a set of drums."

The drummer had done nothing but insult him after he'd managed to find a way to complement him, but with those simple, but carefully chosen words, Duo deflated the Chinese boy like a bubble in the sun. He was surprised, though, when Wufei bowed and mumbled his regrets.

"I am humbled. Please accept my apologies."

"Hey, it's chill, man. I'm not everybody's friend. What's your name?"

"Chang Wufei."

"Well, nice to meetcha, 'Fei."

Wufei winced at the shortening of his name, but under the circumstances he didn't correct the offense. "From L5."

Duo's eyes widened. "No shit. You survived. I'm impressed."

Wufei looked away, holding back the emotions threatening to be exposed in front of a stranger. "Yes. I am all that is left of my family, my clan."

Duo smiled, becoming shy in the silence, and fumbled with his nearly empty water bottle. "So, now that we're on first-name basis, tell me about this invitation, Zechs."

"I'd like to invite you to our abode, a combination residence and studio."

"We call it Club Sanc," Quatre put in.

"You do," muttered Wufei, still chafing from the horrifying 'gang-bangers' accusation.

A furrow formed between Quatre's eyebrows. "Yes, I do."

Duo took a closer look at the nice-looking blonde, and decided Quatre could stand his ground any day against a grouchy band mate, but probably didn't very often. He wasn't as delicate as he appeared on first glance.

"It's on acres of land with horses, tennis courts, swimming pool --"

"Swimming pool?" Duo's eyes brightened, the unusual violet hue standing out in striking contrast against his peachy-fair skin. Seeing the sun-kissed, glowing-skinned, Earth-bound guys reminded him how his skin held the tell-tale transparency of someone living in artificial light. "Oh cool, never seen one of those before."

"Two! One indoors and one outdoors," Quatre added.

Duo recognized bait tossed in his direction. He was tempted to tell them they didn't have to work so hard. He didn't need anything more to be lured back with them that night. He was ready to give in, when his honest streak darted into the foreground and a shadow passed across his face. His eyes darkened as they traveled over the faces of each boy in the band then looked askance at Hilde, and then down. He drew his breath and let it out slowly.

"I gotta be a real idiot to do this and blow the greatest thing that's ever come my way, but I gotta say this."

"Duo, it can wait," Hilde said, her voice gentle and caring.

"No, it can't. I don't lie, especially to people that matter. You all look like a great bunch of guys. I'll bet you got fans hanging all over you, girls in particular. And, I... well, I don't wanna wreck whatcha got going, that's all." He held up a hand, staving off any interruption. "This ain't easy to just blurt out, so let me do it, 'kay? Um, I'm gay. I'm pretty open about it. It's no secret on L2 where folks know me. So, if that's going to be a problem for you, just say so now before we get into this any deeper."

Quatre was the first to speak up. "So am I! I just let it slip out tonight, so no one's said anything to me, yet, but if there's a problem, then I guess you won't be alone."

When those beautiful eyes shown with pleasure and lit up his animated face, Duo blew out another arrested breath of air. One down...

"Well, that's great. Um, maybe? I hope so for you. What do you think?" he asked of Zechs.

"I am twenty-three. I have a girlfriend. I'm perfectly comfortable with my sexuality and I have no problem with yours, Quatre's, or anyone else's. That about cover it?" Zechs asked.

"Good for me." Duo looked at Wufei straight on, but the Chinese youth refused to meet his eyes. "What about you? Do I disgust you so much you can't give me a civil answer?"

Wufei's obsidian-black eyes snapped forward to meet Duo's. "My upbringing taught me that homosexuality was an evil perversion. However, I am here now, not with my clan on L5. I have learned to make concessions. As long as your behavior does not include me in anyway or harm or embarrass the band, then I can be tolerant."

"Tolerated? Okay, I can live with that, if you can, Quatre. What do you think?"

Quatre nodded. "It's a better reception than I received from home."

Duo touched Quatre's arm and smiled sympathetically. "Well, I was an orphan, but I've noticed even in the best homes that a pat on the back is only a few centimeters from a kick in the butt."

Quatre laughed, feeling the bond of friendship forming between them already, before Duo dropped his hand and moved on.

"And you? What does Trowa from L3 think? Yer awfully quiet."

"I'm okay with it. I'm probably bi, but none of us get much of chance at meeting or dating so...," He hesitated and shrugged the rest. "Like your dancing."

"Yeah?" Duo's eyes sparkled. "I think dancing is the perpendicular expression of your horizontal desires."

Quatre laughed aloud, covering the sniffs and grunts from Wufei.

Trowa just smiled and said, "I suspect you're right about that. I, ah, I like your voice. We need the energy. They sell that on L2?"

"Energy for sale? Not that I heard of. 'Bout the only thing that's not. Hey, thanks, man. You do have a lot to say, when you get going. Bi, huh? Yeah, never could get excited about girls. Lord knows I've tried!"

Duo barked out a laugh, ignoring the slap on his back from Hilde. He sobered instantly under the intensity of Heero's glower. In fact, he had noticed that Heero's eyes hadn't left him since he'd entered the room. Duo didn't let that wilt his resolve to cross-examine each band member, though.

"Okay, you're last, lead-boy; at least, I figure you for guitar. Have your say."

"About what?"

"Well, do you like my music? Hate my hair? Consider me as band material or jail bait? Will you murder me in my sleep if I date your boyfriend, or will you and your girlfriend simply tie me up and toss me in the swimming pool to drown?"

Heero's' face transformed slightly registering his transition through a few moods changes. "Baka."

"That mean you like me, or not?" Duo grinned savagely, daring the other boy on.

"He means you're an idiot," Wufei translated with what Duo felt was more satisfaction than the slight justified. "He doesn't care what you do, as long as you do your job."

"He knows what the word means," Hilda put in. "Duo, he insulted you on purpose."

Duo's smile turned wicked as he folded his arms across his chest. "Hey, Hee-row, you're avoiding me. You are not asexual, I hope. Ah, come on, tell me it ain't so."

Heero turned his head. "Shut up."

"Okay, I'll take that as another 'tolerate'," Duo said.

"Well," Zechs broke in. "Shall we go? Is there anything you need to do before leaving?"

Duo shook his head and handed an envelope, the pay for the gig, to Hilde. "Nope."

"Miss Hilde," Zechs addressed her politely, which amused Duo, "would you like to join us as well? You are certainly welcome to come along, stay the weekend, the week, however long you want. Duo, would you like that? Would you be more comfortable with your friend along?"

Hilda stood shaking her head. "Hell no he wouldn't. Like I said, I came, I did the gigs, and this was the last. I got'im hooked up, so now with a clear conscience, I go. And, if I go now, I'll catch the next shuttle back to L2 and be sleeping in my own bed tomorrow night."

"What about your synthesizer?"

"Not mine. Rented. Stays here." The girl swaggered over to Duo and wrapped him in a warm embrace. "You do good and make us all proud, okay?"

He nodded, burying his face in her shoulder and nuzzling her a moment.

"And if these jerks don't treat you right, you come right home. No defeat in that. No harm in trying, right kid?" she said, reassuringly.

"Thanks," he said hoarsely. He was obviously moved by her show of concern and friendship and didn't try to hide that from the others.

"Well, I'm like family, and we Sweepers stick together. We'll be rootin' for ya."

Quatre rushed to Hilda and gave her a hug goodbye. Zechs also promised to take care of Duo Maxwell and see that he had shuttle fare to return to L2, should he decide not to join the band.

"You must allow me to drop you at the launch base," Zechs said in a tone that allowed for no arguments.

Duo stuffed his makeup and other belongings into a soft, worn duffle bag, pulled on a long-sleeved black t-shirt, and jammed his arms into his jacket while whipping his rope of hair free. "These jeans will have to do for now," he muttered mostly to himself as he nabbed his half-empty bottle of water. He followed Zechs out the dressing room door. "Ready. Oh, ah, by the way... what's the name of the band?"

Heero was closest, the flying tail of hair skimming over his arm in passing. "Wing Steel."

"Steal? As in rob a bank and --?"

"No. The metal."

"Steel? Ohhhh... Um, so why 'steel' and not 'gold' or 'platinum'?"

Heero faltered, and Quatre stepped up with an explanation. "We thought it sounded more masculine, and at the time we were playing mostly hard rock."

"But now? What kind of music do you do?" Duo asked as he climbed into the van and found an empty seat next to Quatre.

"Alternative, indie...mixture, I'd say." Quatre smiled.

"So, why not an off-beat metal, then? Like...." Duo hesitated, brushing the tip of his braid against his chin as he thought. "Gundamium. No, make that shorter, like gundam."

"Gundam?" Heero echoed, rolling it over on his tongue and smiling as if he liked the feel and flavor of the word.

"It's used in building giant robotics used in manufacturing. It's stronger than steel. It can take the stresses of outer space," Wufei said.

"I know," Heero said. He looked slightly irritated at the interruption. "It is used on all the colony structures. I hadn't thought of using that in the band name. Wing Gundam."

Hilde laughed. "Guys are so lame at names, I swear! Duo was going to use the stage name of Deathscythe, I mean, that's just so axe-in-the-brain, ya know? Listen, Gun-dam Wing. Better, right? Has a lilt to it and that indie colony culture sound. Gundam Wing, yeah."

Heero's serious glower, softened, and he smiled. "Gundam Wing, with the indie colony culture sound. A new genre. I like that idea."

"Maybe you should wait until I'm in, before you start making changes," Duo said.

"In --?" Heero asked.

And then an incredible thing happened, although Duo didn't know it at the time. Duo watched as Heero Yuy lost his detachment. A blush flushed his face to the tips of his ears, had they been visible beneath his shaggy brown hair. He opened his mouth to respond then snapped it shut again.

"Anybody hungry as I am?" Zechs called out from the front seat. "I have a place in mind along the way. Open 24-7. I'm stopping anyway. Duo, Hilde? I don't imagine you had dinner before the show."

"Got that right. Can't perform on a full stomach," Duo agreed.

"You didn't have dinner the night before, or breakfast or lunch --" Hilde reminded him.

Zechs shot them both a concerned look in the rearview mirror.

Duo caught it and smiled in return. "Three-square's an overrated, Earth-side concept. Hey, I haven't slept for ten days either --"

"What?" Heero asked, his voice strangled. "That's impossible!"

"-- because that's just too long," Duo finished. He flashed him a charming smile and sat back, eyes closed.

Quatre leaned closer to Duo. "You shouldn't tease him," Quatre whispered. "Wufei either."

"Why not?"

"They don't like it."

Duo chuckled. "Now, that's where you're wrong. Those tight boys need teasing to open up."

Quatre opened his mouth to ask what he meant. Duo let him process his words and their meaning more closely, and caught the blonde's eyes roving over his ripped jeans. In the instant Quatre understood the sexual innuendo, he snapped his mouth shut, blushed furiously, and turned away his face to hide it.

"Hey, sorry, Quat. I gotta big mouth and that was just the perfect setup, ya know?"

Quatre nodded just as the van stopped, and Zechs slid out, opening the door to the passenger seat, where Hilde was ensconced.

"Come with me," Zechs said, and offered her a hand out. "The rest of you can stay put."

Several minutes later, Hilde and Zechs returned to the van with two dark-haired men loaded with sacks. Hilde climbed into her seat holding her own bag and turned around to smile reassuringly at her friend. Zechs commanded the distribution of individual bags of drinks and snacks to the boys in back.

"What is this?" Duo asked as two bags were deposited in his lap.

Quatre spoke up. "Middle Eastern. Friends of my family... of mine... own the market and small deli. Thank you, Zechs," he said politely as he accepted a smaller bag.

"Duo, that's lentil soup. It's nutritious and easy on an empty stomach; still, take it slow. I don't want you getting sick." Zechs meant business. He gave the boy a meaningful stare before gradually softening it and smiling in a friendly manner.

"Er, thanks. Tastes great." Duo slid closer to Quatre and whispered, "What's in the drink?"

"I don't know. Lassi perhaps? Is it carbonated?"

"No. Thick and fruity."

"Lassi, then. Mango?"

"Never had one, could be. Good, though."

"Don't you feel...cold wearing those jeans?" Quatre asked him.

"Yeah, I shoulda changed them."

"If you'd asked, we would have given you some privacy."

"'Sokay. Wasn't about you seeing me butt-ass naked. I simply was too damned tired." He turned his head and waited for Quatre's eyes to look up and noticed that Heero's attention was riveted to him. "Hey, don't get the wrong idea. I don't give shows to just anybody. A little mystery is important."

Quatre suddenly seemed so much younger as he filled his mouth with a bite and became completely absorbed in his meal.

Duo sipped and slurped, hands full, in silence the rest of the drive to the shuttle base launch site. The van parked in a loading-zone-only slot. Zechs once again assisted the young lady from the car and accompanied her to the ticket counter.

"Oh, she's not going to let him get away with paying for that too," Duo predicted as he peered out the side window.

"Don't be so sure. Nobility holds sway over its minions. Just wait and see," Quatre said with a light chuckle.

Wufei used the opportunity to move to the seat Hilde had vacated up front. Meanwhile outside the van, the man and young lady pantomimed a brief and noble dispute. In the end, Zechs clearly won, handing over his credit card to the man in the booth. Hilde shyly accepted a quick embrace and a kiss to her cheek, turned to wave to Duo one more time, and skipped away to the waiting room. She was going to ride first class back to L2 with a full tummy and a check to cash.

Zechs returned to the van and started the engine. "Next stop, home."

"How did you get away with that?" Duo asked Zechs.

"I asked her the illuminating question: 'If every year is a marble, how many marbles do you have left?' She understood and accepted her good luck." He tucked a CD into the player, and pulled out into the traffic lane.

"Mr. Boombastic,
What you want is some boombastic,
Romantic, fantastic lover..."

"Ska?" Wufei asked, eyebrows arching to show his distaste.

"Smooth just like silk
Soft and cuddle, hug me up like a quilt
I'm a lyrical lover; no take me for no filth
With my sexual physique jah know me well built..."

"Yes. A little Shaggy for the drive home. Go to sleep if you don't like it," Zechs told him.

"I'm Mr. Boombastic say me fantastic, touch me in my back
She says I'm Mr. Ro...mantic
Say me fantastic, touch me in my back..."

"I didn't say I didn't like it," Wufei demurred.

"She say I'm Mr. boom boom boom Boombastic
Say me fantastic; touch me in my back..."

Zechs sighed and smiled wearily, but said nothing. Duo thought it must suck to have to be the mature one all the time. He closed his eyes and let the music rock him to sleep.

"She says I'm Mr. Ro...mantic
Say me fantastic; touch me in my back..."

Duo was asleep before Zechs had put the van in gear and he slumbered on for the rest of the ride.

"She says I'm Mr. Ro...mantic
Say me fantastic; touch me in my back
She say I'm Mr. boom boom Boombastic
Say me fantastic; touch me in my back..."

Chapter 3 -- She's Come Undone

Duo was dead to the world by the time Zechs parked the van at the estate. Quatre hadn? minded sitting beside the strangely quiet boy for an hour; it had given him the opportunity to stare, unseen. Street lights washed his face in sodium glows, but the god was just a boy asleep. His heavy damp braid lay curled in his lap like a snake, coiled, waiting. Brown bangs framed his closed eyes; long, dark lashes hid the entrance to them. His body gave away nothing, no clues to his personality, past, present, or future. Just a boy. How much of his charm was his liveliness and energy, Quatre wondered?

"Should I wake him up?" Quatre asked when the van was empty.

"We can't leave him here." Zechs looked at Heero to take action, but when he remained still, the older man moved to climb into the van.

"Why not?" Wufei asked. "He can't do any harm in there."

"It'll get too cold!" Quatre cried out irritably. He wanted to hit the sack, not trade barbs with Wufei at three in the morning. "What kind of impression would that make?"

"Hey!"Zechs' shout came from within the van. He backed out rubbing his jaw followed by an apologetic, confused-looking Duo.

"Sorry, 'bout that. Reflexes, ya know?" Duo said around a yawn. "Where's this?"

"The garage. Don't get it confused with home," Wufei drawled.

Quatre stepped behind Wufei about to settle his anger with a fight, one he would lose, he knew, painfully against the martial arts master, when a firm grip to his shoulder heaved him back a step instead.

"Ignore him."

"Heero, I will, but --"

Quatre didn't finish. He was irritated. He wasn't a child and didn't like being pushed around and treated like one. He wished he were stronger like Wufei or tougher like Trowa or scary like Heero. He noticed Trowa watching his reaction, though, and decided that it was a stupid time to make a scene over Duo. He clamped his jaw shut and said nothing more. When he wiggled irritably, Heero immediately released him. Once free, Quatre flung his coat over a shoulder and waited for the others to go ahead, trailing Heero into the house. Zechs led Duo to the guest room, motioning for everyone else to go away. Quatre had no desire to do anything but collapse on his bed in his room.

His clock said 12:00, but his head said "early" then he remembered bringing home the exciting Shinigami. Quatre raced through his weekend "morning" routine, yanking on a sun-faded, pink t-shirt and khaki shorts, and skipped downstairs to check on their guest.

Tapping lightly on the door, so as to disturb the fewest number of people still sleeping in the household, resulted in nothing. No answer. Quatre twisted the knob and peeked in. The bed was empty; the window was wide open.

"Duo?" he called.

"Yo!" Duo replied.

"You're already up?" Quatre leaned out the window, arms on the sill and smiled.

Duo spread his arms wide. "Soaking up the rays, man. Real sun. Woke me up and I'd forgotten where I was. This place... Is it real? Looks like a resort."

Quatre's eyes flit over the exposed torso. Slim and muscled, like he'd remembered from the vision on stage. Duo wore his jeans and nothing else.

"Um, Cat? I gotcher name right?"

His eyes rose to meet the uninhibited violet ones of the other boy, but instantly looked away. He was so exciting, but his hair was in need of a good washing, as was his body. Despite that, his impish good looks were enticing. Quatre's mind wildly chased down something polite to say and an excuse for his giving the stranger a brazen examination.

"Yes, ah, 'Kaah-truh,' but you can call me 'Cat' if you like. Would you like a shower? You look about my size so you can wear something of mine."

Duo responded with a wide smile, and sauntered closer to the window, braid swaying, eyes boring into the other boy's. Quatre was mesmerized; his legs refusing to let him scamper off.

"I packed clothes in my bag, but the shower sounds great." Duo reached out and ran a finger through Quatre's hair, lifting the bangs lightly. When he twisted his head to look into his blue eyes, Quatre suddenly felt shy. "You come with it?"

"Me?" Quatre squeaked. He stepped backwards away from the open windowsill.

"Yeah. You seem interested. I am interested."

"You are?"

"Gods, are you na?e or blind? You're a bloody, blond wet dream. Fuck. You can do me whether I stay on here or not."

Quatre sucked in air and coughed. He had never been propositioned by another boy in that manner; at least, not one he'd just met. He felt the heat rise up his neck and color his cheeks. Why me? he wondered. He envied how Trowa always looked so calm and cool. Heero didn't blush and when Wufei did he could cover it up with an angry outburst. Quatre just hated his blush reaction. He had some sexual experience. There was no reason to act like a virgin when he wasn't. He knew it made him look so young and immature, which made him nervous and self-conscious, which in turn made things worse.

His voice cracked. "D-d-do...? Y-you?"

"Unless you got something exclusive going with your boyfriend."

Quatre's wide eyed confusion set the other boy to laughing.

"Yeah, the one checking us out from the upstairs window at 2:00."

Quatre's shot a worried glance in the right direction, but the wall blocked his view. He wasn't sure if Duo had been joking or not, and it distracted him enough that he missed Duo pushing up on the sill, scrambling for a foothold.

"There's a door --" he began to say.

Too late. Duo was committed already, so Quatre stepped back further giving him room to crawl back into the guest room.

"Tell ya what," Duo wrapped an arm around Quatre and pulled him toward a door, "if I got it right, that way's the kitchen. You cook some? Can you fix me and you something to nosh on then? Cool. I'll go back, shower, and meetcha there in thirty. Okay?"

Quatre recovered his voice and nodded. "I can do that."

"Terrif! Catcha later, then, Cat. Oh and... rain check?"

"Rain...?" Quatre blushed to his ear tips remembering the offer for sex left hanging. "Oh, um, I guess... maybe..."

His waffling was lost in Duo's raucous laughter. Quatre resented Duo's ease with sexual issues, while he became more and more uncomfortable. Would he ever grow up?! How he wished he could be so daring around Trowa!

"Man, that was the best. Hot water to the ver-ryee end of a shower! Yeah! Sooooo, what'sup?"

When Duo entered the kitchen, all heads turned his way. His long wet braid hung in back, concealed, and his drab clothes typified him as a color-challenged teenager, but with a toned, yet slim, physique. His black t-shirt hugged his chest and the faded denims, less ripped that the others, still revealed skin here and there when he moved. Quatre beckoned him to sit in the empty chair beside his with a wave and dashed to deliver Duo sandwich on a plate and a fork -- all before Heero could gather his thoughts or even breathe.

"Here, and help yourself to the salads and pickles," Quatre said.

"Thanks. You really made all this for me?"

"No, I didn't, but it is all for you to eat."

Heero snorted, but kept on chewing his neatly sliced sandwich. He thought Quatre was trying too hard to be nice and accommodating. Duo wasn't a guest in the strictest sense of the word. He wouldn't expect special treatment. Quatre seemed nervous, too. He wondered if that meant Quatre was attracted to Duo. He had told them he was gay; they both were, but that didn't necessarily imply they had to be interested in one another. Heero hadn't betrayed his feelings. He wanted the singer to join the band, because Zechs had been right: he was the key to their winning the contest. If he joined to be with Quatre then that should be okay, too.

But it wasn't. Heero couldn't convince himself that he was all right with Quatre pursuing the singer. No, he wasn't worldly enough to take on Shinigami from L2. Who was?

Trowa pushed the carton of milk closer to Duo, saying, "Glasses are in the glass cupboard."

Duo opened his mouth. Heero expected him to say something like "that's obvious," before seeing that Trowa meant the cabinet with the glass front, but Duo said nothing. Heero studied the slim figure poised motionless and scanning the vast array of choices for the right one. Tall-stemmed wine glasses, coffee mugs, flutes, goblets, cordials, brandy snifters, cocktail glasses, highballs, hurricanes, parfaits, sherry glasses, shot glasses, and possibly even juice glasses somewhere mixed in lined the far wall in a dazzling array.

Trowa smiled the barest smile, and asked, "Want me to get one for you?"

Heero's eyes snapped away from that smile to gage Duo's reaction. Along the way, he was sideswiped Quatre's look of consternation. Heero swallowed back the words he was about to say. He had a new worry. Trowa. Was he possibly infatuated with the singer too? The competition would hurt the band. Now, Heero saw Duo as a threat.

"No, got two legs. It's chill, man!" Duo rattled off carelessly and hopped over to get his own glass.

Before returning to the table, Duo carried his glass of choice, a fine crystal highball, to the sink and turned on the tap. When he sat again, he had a glass of plain water to drink. He blew stray hair out of his mouth.

"Water has no food value," Heero told him.

"Yeah, I'm just drinking it. I got the rest of this for food."

"Milk contains additional protein and calcium."

"Oh yeah? Well, I haven't ever drunk cow juice and I'm not starting now." Duo piled his plate with potato salad as he bit into a dill pickle.

"That's why you're so short."

Quatre moved his chair noisily. "Drop it, Heero," he whispered.

"You think so? So, what's your excuse?" Duo countered.

"I am average height for a male of Asian heritage," Heero said coolly.

"I've read that most males continue growing well into their twenties," Quatre said. "I hope that's true because I'd like to be at least 5'10''."

Heero was mid surly-growl, "good for you --" when Wufei and Zechs entered the room together.

"You started without us?" Zechs asked. "I thought we were eating in the dining room?"

Quatre said, "We decided it would be more comfortable in here for just Duo and me. I thought everyone else had eaten." He looked self-conscious then added, "Then Heero and Trowa joined me. A-and now you, too."

Heero wondered why he'd said that. Lunch was served at this time everyday but Sunday, even when school was in session, he recalled, from his experience when he remained home ill one day. Heero set his fork on the table and stared at him. Quatre had wanted Duo to himself, then. The thought disturbed him. He had never thought Quatre would move on another guy. He wondered if Trowa had caught on to what Quatre was doing or cared enough to be a competitor after all. It was hard to tell what Trowa was thinking; he said little.

Wufei, however, spoke out. "The cook always prepares lunch for us at noon."

"The cook?" Duo paused in his eating. "You guys have a cook? Really?"

Zechs stood, pickle in hand. He was dressed in loose, ivory, draw-string pants and a long flowing tunic with rainbow beads around his neck, an informal version of his evening attire. "Yes. It is far easier and cleaner. More efficient all around. With school, there isn't time to cook meals for six or more if there are guests. Shopping is too far for daily trips and I really don't care to plan meals and purchase supplies in advance. This place," he swept the room with an arm, "has a staff to cook, clean, maintain the grounds, pool, horses, and cars."

"No shit." Duo looked flabbergasted. "So, what do you do?"

"Play music, tennis," Quatre began.

"Work out in the gym," Heero added.

"There is the pool and horseback riding," Quatre continued.

"Video games," Trowa contributed. Duo's eyes lit up and Trowa smiled again. "But music is the big thing for all of us."

"So it's pretty much all fun and games," Duo said, looking over Trowa with a satisfied with a broad grin.

Quatre cleared his throat, drawing Duo's attention back onto him. "It's a wonderful place to explore new interests."

Wufei cut in without remorse. "And then there is school."

"Oh, no problem. I'm done with it." Duo stabbed at his salad, filled his fork, and jammed it into his mouth. "So, don't worry 'bout that."

Zechs shook his head as Quatre opened his mouth. It was obvious to Heero that Quatre wanted to divert the subject away from business and school. Trowa was playing some game, too, and Heero did not want this new kid to break up his band. He was strikingly attractive, even Wufei had had to utter words to that effect after they'd left him at the guest room the night before. Obviously, someone like Quatre and, apparently, Trowa too, would fall hard and fast. Heero admitted that he had been nothing short of mesmerized by the end of the concert. He knew then that he would have to resolve the dilemma, because Wufei would most certainly not. Heero outlined a plan in his head, while listening to Zechs.

"Duo, if you live here, you go to classes. If you are a high school graduate, I'll send for your transcript and find a college --"

"No college. No degree. I learned all I needed. Sitting in hard, wood chairs for six hours was not my kind of thing, okay?"

Zechs would not be okay with anything sub par, that Heero also knew. "Duo, if you don't want more academics, there is a vocational high school program --"

"I got a vocation. I'm a singer and a pilot. Got it all covered."

"He's got a point," Trowa said. "Piloting is a respectable job and it pays well."

"You don't need a high school diploma to get a pilot's license?" Quatre asked.

"Not on L2," Duo answered lightly. "Only two things stop you cold. Can't be color blind 'cause the controls are color coded, and can't have a felony conviction. That last one really is a limiting factor, believe me."

"Really?" asked Wufei. "I didn't realize there were rules to enforce on L2."

Duo set down his glass and looked directly at Wufei through his fringe of bangs. "Ya know, I'm looking forward to the pleasure of your company since I haven't had it yet."

Heero broke into the battle of wits, fighting for containment before Wufei's volatile temper blew up. "But you had to have memorized manuals for repair and operations that would require a knowledge of engineering and physics, be able to compute routes in your head in case you lose navigation of flight control, that's got to be Trigonometry at least, not to mention --"

"Where'dya get all that info?" Duo asked Heero, his attention fully riveted onto the pair of intense, blue eyes.

"I researched it on the internet this morning."

"I find it hard to believe that someone your age and, now, self-admitted lack of education has a legitimate shuttle pilot's license," Wufei said. "Regardless."

"Hey, Chang, chill dude," Trowa said.

"'Sokay. Listen, I didn't say I was stupid, I just told Zechs here that I didn't take to sitting in classrooms. I was tested young and trained special because I had certain talents. Piloting was one; the singing I had to pursue on my own. L2 doesn't care much about advancing the arts, but they need pilots to move people and materials for manufacturing."

"Then there is no problem," Heero said, satisfied in more ways than one. Duo was not easily riled up by anyone; level-headed and able to roll with the punches. He could become a good friend. He looked at Zechs, adding, "He can test out of his classes if you arrange for it. He may not need to attend next year at all."

"Yeah," Duo drawled in a relaxed fashion. "Like I said."

"Well, part of attending school is for the social interaction. Something can be arranged, I'm sure. Some culinary classes, sports, computer classes to start. Besides, there are school functions like dances and games where you can meet other young people your own age."

Duo smiled. "Listen, I don't wanna argue so I'll say okay for now. School here sounds different than on L2, but aren't we all kinda old for high school?"

"Wufei is the only one who didn't have his education disturbed and is tracking well," Zechs said. "I believe the others have one last year to make up for lost credits. The current year is on summer break."

Zechs smiled, "It is my wish for all of you to succeed to the best of your abilities and heart-felt desires. To deduce what that might be, ask yourself the question: 'If I could be anything in this world, and be guaranteed success, what would I be?' Then start being that today in the small ways that you are able. Pretend and imagine shopping like that person, breathing like that person, making decisions like that person. Then build a bridge from here to there with real actions and steps."

"I guess I'm in for more of those affirmations of yours, huh?" Duo asked.

Zechs smiled and nodded. Duo shrugged, effectively dropping the subject. If he didn't join the band it would all be a mute point anyway, Heero thought. Which meant he should come up with a good reason for him to stay; one that did not depend on a romantic link with Quatre or Trowa. He reviewed his action plan again.

"So, what's on your agenda today? Do I get a tour or something? Hear the band?" Duo asked.

"If you are interested in seeing the gym, I was going to work out for an hour before band practice. You may join me," Wufei said as he rose from the table to set his dishes at the sink.

Heero was surprised that the offer came from the one who seemed to like the singer the least. His own thoughts had been along the same tract. Possibly he could join them.

"Okay," Duo said.

Wufei rose from the table to set his dishes at the sink. Heero's gaze followed Duo as he followed suit, collecting his dishes and balancing them precariously on top of Wufei's in the sink. He smiled at the result, tossed his rope of hair out of the way, and stretched his arms overhead. A sliver of skin revealed the rise of a hip bone as his back arched then the dark cloth of his t-shirt slipped back into place.

Show over, Heero pulled in his eyes and willed his disobediently pounding heart to behave. Self consciously, his eyes slipped sideways to find Quatre watching him. He stared him down until Quatre turned away, following Duo's progress as he trotted off behind the short, lithe, and serious Chinese boy. Heero nearly tripped getting to his feet.

"Practice begins at 2:00 on the weekend if we haven't a gig," Quatre called out to their retreating backs.

"Gotcha!" Duo hollered on his way out.

Heero steadied himself, but before he could join the two on the way to the gym, Zechs stopped him. "Heero, just a moment. Give them a little time alone first. I think Wufei is having the hardest time accepting him and this might be a nice chance for them to bond a little."

Heero frowned and looked at Quatre. He knew Quatre had the best sense of others' feelings, somehow. "Is Duo upset?"

"No, surprisingly." Quatre frowned at Heero. "None of you are making him feel very welcome."

"Oh? Did he tell you that?" Zechs asked.

"No, it was just my observation."

"He seems happy and comfortable here to me," Zechs said. "He clearly has moved around a great deal on his own. He gets along with others easily and makes many friends. He's very adaptable. What do you think, Heero?"

Staggering crossed his mind first, followed shortly by sexy, smart, and self-possessed. And that was only the letter "S". "Dangerous," Heero said.

Trowa shuffled his feet and cleared his throat. "How do ya mean?"

"The band is of primary importance. If having him in the band has a disruptive influence, enough to cause a rift then his singing and dancing contribution is totally lost."

"A rift?" Quatre asked, his eyes widening.

Heero thought his friend's expression and tone of voice gave him an aura of innocence, as if he hadn't a clue what was going on. Heero found that disconcerting. How could he not else feel the undercurrent of unrest Duo caused, Heero wondered? Quatre hadn't been a patent liar in the past. He was, in Heero's estimation, a good soul. Trowa, too. Heero sighed, thinking he was letting Duo get to him.

"That's right, Heero," Zechs said, lowering his voice. "What makes you think he's going to break up what you've all got going?"

"I could be wrong," Heero said abruptly, excusing himself and leaving the room without clearing his dishes.

"You should wait and let Yuy demonstrate those," Wufei told Duo, who was fascinated by the complex pulleys and balances of the weight machine. "I prefer isometrics, balance and strength training from karate katas."

"You spar?" Duo asked. He found a stationary running machine and turned it on. "Mind if we put on some music? Helps me keep pace."

Wufei pressed the play button on the CD player resting on a nearby shelf. "Yuy and I spar, sometimes Trowa. They are both skilled, but different." Wufei stared at Duo setting a fast pace on the treadmill. "You can adjust that down."

"She's come undone"

Wufei stared at Duo setting a fast pace on the treadmill. "You can adjust that speed down," he repeated.

"She didn't know what she was headed for
And when I found what she was headed for
It was too late."

"I run fast, thanks. As a kid I'd have to steal to eat then run not to get caught."

Wufei had no picture in his mind of what being a street kid really meant. Stealing food to eat certainly had never entered into any visualization, and trying to picture a younger Duo starving, altered his thinking. "Your parents?"

"Killed, I guess. Never knew them. Me and a few others hung out, safety in numbers. We got hustled into an orphanage, but I was too old to get adopted. Sister Helen saw to it we learned to read, write, and all."

"You were chosen to be a shuttle pilot and you never attended school?" This was too difficult for Wufei to fathom.

"Oh, I did from the time I was eight to twelve, give or take a year. I really don't know when I was born. The school wasn't much and the kids bullied us from the orphanage, so Sister Helen took over tutoring. I guess I was pretty smart, because Father Maxwell had me tested and at twelve, well, I got training. By fifteen, I was licensed to co-pilot and on my first flight the pilot had a heart attack and I took over. What?"

"It's too late
She's gone too far
She's lost herself"

Wufei was standing by the machine, Duo still running his six-minute mile upon mile. "Father Maxwell. Maxwell Church!"

"She's come undone."

"Ah, yeah. Heard about that, eh?"

"She wanted truth but all she got was lies
Came the time to realize
And it was too late."

"It was a story every child in my clan was told. Never play with fire. The children living there burned down their home and --"

Duo cut him off. "Not true! The OZ syndicate did it. I saw them. I was at my flight training and was late getting back. I heard some goon threaten Father Maxwell for more protection money."

"Extorting money from a church and orphanage? A lower life form never walked on land."

"That's for sure. And no better souls lived than Father Maxwell and Sister Helen. They wouldn't give in, but had they suspected the outcome, I'm sure they would have handed over every penny rather than doom everyone to death."

"Too many mountains
And not enough stairs to climb
Too many churches
And not enough truth..."

"So, what did you do?"

"I ran for help." Duo smiled and shook his head, still running without letup. "You know, it's not easy to convince a policeman there's an emergency when you're just a kid."

"They didn't believe you?"

"No, but when I ripped the gun out of his holster, he ran after me." Duo's pace slackened slightly. "But it was too late."

"You survived."

"The only one. I learned several things. I call them Maxwell's Laws, the first being: The enemy invariably attacks on two occasions: when they're ready and when you're not. "

"You seek justice for what happened. You want revenge?"

"Yeah," Duo said, matching Wufei's intensity, "but that takes big bucks and power, oh, and some brave souls stupid enough to carry out some maniacal plan. I, heh, heh... don't know which will be the most difficult problem to overcome."

"It's too late
She's gone too far
She's lost herself

She's come undone."

"Time to cool down." Duo reached out and dialed down the speed until he was walking. When he stopped, Wufei leaned over to read the dial.

"You ran three miles in 17 minutes. I'm very impressed." His eyes bore into Duo's. "You aren't even breathing hard. You weren't even trying."

"Not my hardest, no. I mean, I just ate!" Duo laughed and hopped off the treadmill. "One thing I learned in a book, and that is: humans reach higher running speeds not by increasing the speed of their legs, but by applying greater support force to the ground. Also, shorter lighter runners release body heat faster giving them an advantage."

"She found a mountain that was far too high
And when she found out she couldn't fly
Mama, it was too late!"

Wufei nodded slowly. He had no words for this remarkable young man before him, he thought, then a few come to find. "I judged you wrong. You are not weak or stupid. Taking justice into your own hands would be a rash move. You would be dead had you attempted to do so at the time."

Duo grinned. "Yeah, well, Maxwell's Law number two: anything you do can get you killed, including nothing."

"I did nothing. Oz syndicate destroyed my home, my clan, my family. They killed my wife. I wanted justice, but I was too weak."

Wufei wondered why he had told Duo what he hadn't revealed to his house mates. What was it that made him feel so exposed or want to share his secrets and dark desires with this stranger?

"It's too late
She's gone too far
She's lost herself."

"So, you work out down here to get stronger," Duo stated, understanding Wufei's motivations like no one else. "You want justice served for what OZ did to you."

"Of course." It wasn't sexual attraction, he felt; it was of a different nature, like brother-in-arms.

Duo cracked a smile and broke the binding spell. "You need to loosen up, dude. Believe me, I know. Too much determination will just shrink your nuts. 'Course locked up like monks in here you haven't got much outlet. So, Duo Maxwell at your service, if you get my drift."

He bowed with a dramatic flourish that was completely unnecessary, so of course he intended it to be insulting. Wufei curled his lip in disgust.

"I wish I didn't understand what you just offered me, gai. Say that again, touch me, look at me and I will see to it that you do not play music on Earth again, if you 'get my drift.'"

Duo stepped back tongue-tied, and Wufei knew that he had skillfully impressed him with his authoritative and unquestionable masculinity. Weak women could never stand up to men like him. As long as Duo Maxwell knew his place and remained in it, they would get along fine.

"I must shower before practice," he told him. "I'll have someone meet you here to show you the way to the studio."

"Don't bother. I can find my way." Duo grinned like a spreading wound. "Ah, but before you go --"

Wufei reached toward the CD player and hesitated, uneasy in such close proximity with the smiling boy. "Yes?" "I'd like you to take this knife outta my back. You'll probably need it again."

"She's come undone
Doh doh doh doh doh doh doh doh
Doh doh doh"

Wufei slammed his hand into the CD player, shutting off the music and possibly breaking the unit. Then he swept past Duo and yanked at the door.

Chapter 4 -- I'm Shakin'

Trowa loped after Heero, stopping outside the gym door. "Wait."

Heero dropped his hand from the door knob, taking a defensive posture. "What do you want?" he asked.

"I just want a moment with him," Trowa said, shaking his long bangs to the side then pausing to catch Heero's eyes with his own. "Then he's all yours."

Heero's deep blue eyes pierced his a second then looked askance. "I don't know what you mean."

"Sex with a braid? Oh sure you do, or else you're denser than I think. Or...? Should I invite him to my room tonight, since you're not interested?"

Trowa didn't often tease Heero, but he deserved it for not coming clean the night before. Trowa could see the obvious signs of attraction as well as anyone else with two legs and a libido. He knew Heero was drawn to the comely singer, and yet had denied it to his face. Well, avoided acknowledging it. Asexual, indeed!

And if he didn't get Heero to stake his claim soon, he wasn't sure that Quatre wouldn't fall hard for the singer. Trowa was sure he couldn't compete with the brazen, glamorous, and sexy kid for the attention of the refined Winner un-heir, nor did he believe he had a chance with Duo should Quatre make a stab at romancing the kid. Damn. He wasn't fool enough to dream he had a chance with Quatre whether or not Duo was in the equation at all!

His best scheme, and the least work he decided in the end, would be to spur Heero to action and remove the Duo threat. Heero, he knew, could act impulsively. He could also break his arm, or neck.

Heero snorted something to the effect of "Don't push your luck," and strode off down the hall, missing the hanging pictures by mere inches.

"Only take a minute," Trowa said one more time, then entered the gymnasium.

He nearly pulled Chang out the door as it swung open into the hall. Trowa was pleasantly surprised to find Wufei and Duo at the end of a heated exchange. More resolute guys than Chang had fallen into the arms of less attractive boys than Duo, but it was unlikely.

"Barton. Excellent. You may direct Maxwell to the practice room when the time comes. I have other things to attend to." Without waiting for a reply, Wufei tucked in his stinger and "wasped" off.

"What'sup?" Duo asked.

Trowa checked out the toned chest and faint film of sweat under his bangs. "Getting a workout?"

"Naw, just a run. You here for some exercise?"

"Verbal only." Trowa's eyes flashed a humorous warning.

Duo appeared amused by his suggestiveness. "'Kay. So, you got ten tries to guess what I'm all about."

"Don't need ten." Trowa watched the other boy's eyebrows disappear upwards under the heavy fringe of bangs. "You doing drugs?"

"I used to do drugs. I still do drugs. But I used to, too," Duo replied comically.

Trowa chuckled. "Right. "You bring drugs with you? Okay, just keep the drugs away from Winner."

"You mean Quat? You his big bro or something?"

"No, he's very inexperienced, not like us." Trowa looked down at the slightly shorter boy then hid his eyes behind a shank of hair. "He gets...down about what happened to him; what brought him here. He has a source. He nearly OD'd couple times."

Duo absorbed the information then nodded. "Gotcha. So, you and him got something going on?"

Trowa had scarcely even considered it, although, now that he knew Quatre was gay, he might dream. "No."

Duo smiled in a way that made him uncomfortable at first but then charmed him into confessing. He had sought Duo out to question him and warn him off Quatre, but he found that he was opening up to him and revealing his own well-kept secrets.

"But you wish you did, huh?" Duo pressed. "He's sweet, for sure."

"He's rather pure and clueless for the most part."

"Yeah, I figured that. I may have gone a little overboard with the teasing earlier. So, ah, you're protecting your turf here, right?"

Trowa nodded. "Possibly."

"Not looking for a little action on the side."

Trowa shrugged noncommittally.

"Okay," Duo said without much expression. "So, why aren't you washing the family car and working in your dad's shop?"

"No family, 'cept a sister still in the circus."

"No kidding? The circus? You grew up in a circus? How cool is that?"

"Um, to not me. OZ syndicate mercenaries attacked our caravan. I don't remember it at all. Guess the ringmaster missed a payoff. Our parents were killed, but my sister remained with the remnants of the performers, who were like family."

"You didn't?"

Trowa shook his head. He hadn't even shared this much with Heero, Wufei, or even Quatre. "Mercenaries kept me; trained me. When I was twelve, another circus came to town and I struck out on my own and joined up." When he looked back at Duo, the boy's eyes reflected the pain and loss of innocence he'd known. "My luck it was the same one I'd grown up in. Catherine claimed me and took me in."

Duo shook his head. "What were the odds of that, huh?"

"Pretty low, I have to agree. I'm lucky."

"Yes, you are. That's cool. So, what did you do in the circus?"

"Everyone does lots of things. I took care of the animals. Feeding the lions was my favorite job. I performed on the tightrope...other stuff, like clowning around."

Duo was very impressed. Trowa knew he wanted demonstrations and more details, but one look at the clock flashing digitally on the wall and he knew they'd have to go immediately. "I have a few keepsakes."

"A whip? I always wanted to be a lion tamer just to get a turn at cracking that whip."

Trowa chuckled. "No, um, we should go."

"That time already? Okay, I'm kinda excited to see the studio."

Trowa thought many things excited Duo, but none of them were really him, regardless of how he flirted. No, Duo was looking for a challenge, he bet, and Heero would be one. He closed the door behind them. He felt a tug on his shirt and turned to see what Duo wanted.

"How can you stand it? I wear t-shirts. I can't wear turtlenecks. Wearing a turtleneck is like being strangled by a really weak guy. All day! If you wear a backpack and a turtleneck, it's like a weak midget trying to bring you down."

Duo grabbed his own neck and made gagging sounds, bending over backwards so that Trowa thought he might lose his balance and fall. He caught him by the shoulders and lifted him back into an upright posture, taking care not to step on the braid dragging on the ground.

"You're exaggerating," Trowa said, but he smiled, too.

"You think so?" Duo laughed.

Trowa shrugged, and then said in a droll aside, "I saw a human pyramid once. It was very unnecessary."

Duo nearly busted a gut from laughing so hard.

Heero was tearing into a series of heavy, devastating riffs with the ferocity of a machine-gunner taking on the oncoming enemy. He'd cranked up the amplifier to ear-splitting volume heedless of the other band members filing into the studio, and launched into another attack on their nervous systems. Quatre ignored him in favor of switching on this keyboard and setting tabs on the humming synthesizer already warming up.

Wufei conducted crash tests on his cymbals, testing the resonance of his newest acquisition against the others. If he could distinguish any difference over the cacophony of other noise, Quatre would be surprised. From what he could sense, both band mates were disturbed. Quatre could guess who was at the root of their moodiness, but not why, exactly.

When Duo and Trowa entered together, laughing at some shared joke, Duo's arm draped casually over the taller boys shoulders, they were accompanied by the sour whine of guitar and a deafening racket as one cymbal stand fell over onto the hard linoleum floor.

Oh, yes. Even a non-empathic person could figure out the "who" part of the problem. He felt a tug in his chest seeing the Duo so familiar with Trowa. Maybe it was just as well, Quatre tried to convince himself. He wasn't experienced enough for someone like Shinigami, possibly, but he wasn't an innocent by any means. He simply felt like a kid next to the worldlier singer. Trowa, he knew, had had an exciting life on the road in the circus, and was better equipped to handle the handful Duo was proving to be.

Just being gay wasn't enough. He wondered if he had any attributes besides his good looks to attract anyone but perverts. Maybe drugs.

Quatre sighed, disappointed. He had hoped to build on his friendship to make it something more with the quiet Trowa. He wished to be outgoing like Duo, at least to attract Trowa, but it wasn't meant to be.

Trowa broke apart and dialed Heero's amp down a couple notches in passing. He rolled up a few cables and restrung new ones in a different configuration. He slipped on head phones, took up his bass, plugging a cable into the end, and proceeded to tune up. Not one word. He was the only one completely untroubled in the room.

The singer, Quatre noted, was slightly agitated and he wondered why. Duo seemed content studying his surrounds, although he surreptitiously snuck a quick glance over to where Heero was thrumming two notes over and over.

Quatre watched as Heero stopped punishing his guitar and, instead, tracked Duo's progress around the room. Duo was examining a piece of equipment then moving to the next in a determined fashion. Heero scratched his forehead then scraped the ragged-cut brown hair across it in a boyish gesture. His features softened and a smile teased at the edges of his lips. He gave the impression that he'd been waiting for ages for just such a person as Duo Maxwell to come along so that he could get down to the business of living.

Oh my.

Wufei didn't seem to like Duo at all. Trowa and Heero looked like they might both be attracted to him, and when Quatre was honest, so was he. Maybe Duo wasn't going to be a good fit for their band. He closed his eyes and concentrated on banking up barriers in his mind against the onslaught of emotions moving like warring rivals, clashing onto his bruised psyche. When he checked again, he was pleased to note that Trowa no longer seemed interested in what Duo was doing in the room. He was concentrating on tuning and adjusting his cable leads. Time to get to business, then.

Quatre played an arpeggio which was part of an introduction into one of their songs. Trowa met his eyes and they shared a smile as he answered with the matching bass line. He repeated the notes, establishing the rhythm. Wufei righted his stand and came in on the next measure with both the snare and bass drum accompaniment. Five measures and one repeat later, Heero joined in, and the practice began.

Duo politely listened, tapping his foot, but otherwise staying out of their way while they concentrated on instrumentals. When Quatre started to sing, Duo sat on an amplifier near enough to watch. Quatre knew his voice was nice, but still not as emotive as Duo's. He became self-conscious and sang even worse, although no one, not even Heero commented on it.

They ran through a dozen songs, giving Duo a sample of their range, then broke for sodas. Quatre was first to ask him what he thought.

"You sound terrific; better than I'd expected, though I don't know why I didn't think your band was going to be great," Duo began. "Your equipment is fantastic. I don't even know what all that mixing board can do, but I'd love to get my hands on it."

Wufei smiled smugly. The mixer had been his choice, and Quatre bet he'd never admit that he didn't know how to use all the features yet either. Wufei beckoned Duo closer.

"This is my new raw-china cymbal. You can see the quality in the metal here, but you can hear the difference, and that's what's important," Wufei told him. "Here, give it a try."

Quatre couldn't believe what he'd heard. Wufei never allowed anyone to touch his kit. His throne was his, well, throne! Trowa pretended to clean out his ears as if he hadn't heard properly, and glanced at Quatre to include him. Quatre hid his smile behind a hand, leaned behind his wall of amps, and signaled that his ears were damaged as well. When Trowa chuckled, his insides felt warm and bubbly and the room brightened.

"Man, that's bright with trashy power!" Duo said enthusiastically.

Wufei beamed. "Penetrating. It cuts through fast, doesn't it?"

Duo slammed and pounded for a few minutes on the drum set, pronounced it "awesome," before moving on to check out Trowa's sleek red bass.

"Cool." Duo leaned over the instrument and studied it closely.

Trowa shrugged. "I like it. Warwick Corvette Double Buck Electric."

"Are those two massive MEC humbuckers nestled close in the center of the body?" Duo asked.

"Yeah. Completely covers the sweet-spot most basses miss completely."

"Cool pickup and electronics package I gotta say. Never seen anything this good before."

Trowa glowed. "Yeah, gives it its outrageous attitude and identity. Zechs funded this. I never could have laid out over a grand for this without his backing. Take a look at Yuy's sweet axe, speaking of impressive."

Duo was happy to oblige. He looked over the smooth black finish, the slick, smooth ebony fret board, and high quality chrome hardware, and whistled. "This is one armed and dangerous axe, 'Ro. This pickup array is amazing. Does the neck extend through the body?"

"Yes. Maple neck fitted with twenty-four extra-jumbo frets. There's a Seymour Duncan TB-4, an ESP LH-200, and an ESP SS-120 pickup -- standard on the Stephen Carpenter Signature from ESP." Heero cracked a smile and allowed Duo to touch his beauty that cost the bon viveur Zechs almost three grand.

Somehow Duo had managed to say the right things, assuage the ill feelings, and smooth the ruffled feathers of the conspicuously vain peacocks in the band. Quatre let down his guard, testing the waters, and was pleased to feel warmth and good feelings proliferating. He relaxed and joined in the fun, thinking that possibly this new member might work out after all.

They messed with a couple songs and Duo pointed out how one sounded like one he knew. With some work, they figured out the instrumental parts to dance-rock song by Rooney, which was only a few years old, and ran through it a few times until they were comfortable to add the singer.

"I've forgotten what it feels like to feel normal
To be normal..."

"Ahhh I wake up and it's not my bed, it's w-way too soft...

Duo pulled the lyrics off the top of his head, making them up along the way if he had to, if he'd forgotten the real words. As long as the scansion was right, he was cool.

"I'm sha sha shakin, sha shakin'
I'm sha sha shakin, I'm shakin' now..."

Heero laughed at the mess ups probably because he wasn't fond of the song, but Duo was dancing and shaking and carrying on in a very funny manner. For the last verse, Quatre joined in to keep the lyrics close to true.

"I'm supposed to feel better.
This nightmare is supposed to end.
I am holding on, I am holding on,
I am holding on, I am holding on...,"

The others harmonized, some, but at least they lent their voices to the chorus and brought the song to an outrageous end. It was fun.

"I'm sha sha shakin', sha shakin'
I'm sha sha shakin', I'm shakin' now!"

Zechs wandered in toward the end, bells dangling from his belt tie jingling softly. He clapped and congratulated them on ruining a perfectly good dance tune. After that they played a couple more, testing what Duo knew already and what would make their "sound". Zechs made a few suggestions they approved. The problem was that they needed a real show stopper to end a set or place right before a break to ensure the audience goes wild.

"I know one, but I sing it in Japanese, or mostly, not that the words make much sense. It's a dance tune, so it'll get folks on their feet, but I can make it hot."

"I do not doubt that you can," Zechs said aloud what each of the others was thinking. "Dream and give yourself permission to envision the you that you choose to be."

"Yeah, somethin' like that," Duo said, mystified by the new age philosopher, ex-prince of Sanc. "Do you have a rainbow room, too?"

Zechs laughed aloud at that. "No, I have something much better, a Transformation Oracle to inspire you to self-reflection and clarity."

"No shit!" Duo said as if he might have to see that one for himself someday.

"I'll show you sometime, if your interested," Zechs offered.

"Give me the title and recording artist and I will download it. From there I can get a midi of the music, get it charted out for us to read through," Heero said without consultation. "I can improve the translation as well."

Duo patted his pockets, but came up short if he was searching for a paper and pen. Zechs had both and handed them off. While Duo was scribbling, he was also talking.

"I don't know. My Japanese is pretty good, but you being a native speaker and all... okay. And, ah, don't bother with a keyboard part."

"Hn," Heero grunted, as if he wanted to say more, but he didn't, and then Duo had moved on.

Duo asked, "Can you dance, Quat?"

Quatre nodded. "I've had lessons since I was five."

Trowa cleared his throat.

Wufei snorted. "He does not mean ballroom dancing."

"Like whatcha do at clubs," Duo said, tearing off the sheet of notepaper.

"I-I've never been out clubbing." Quatre suddenly felt very young.

"The nightlife is dangerous in the parts of town where the youth-oriented clubs are located," Zechs said. "I strongly advise against it and do not go myself."

"No way to get there," Trowa said. "No city buses come out here and none of us have transport, except Zechs, of course."

Heero snatched the now neglected paper out of Duo's fingers, and Quatre felt a mood swing from his direction. It wasn't a bad one, more lustful if anything. He wondered what Duo could have written down that would have wrung that kind of reaction out of him -- then he didn't. Duo seemed able to charm chuckles out of Trowa, haul humor from Wufei, why not lure lust from Heero? Quatre frowned at his stumbling alliteration attempts.

Without thinking further than where his own drives were taking him, Quatre looked directly at Trowa and said. "You can teach me."

"He can help, but you and I gotta work out a little routine for that song," Duo said.

Wufei made a point of checking his watch. "We haven't much longer until dinner. We should practice while we can."

"Very well, then," Zechs said. "I'll be on my way to run errands. See you at dinner."

After he left, the band returned to practice. Duo stayed out of the way as he had done before, until his opinion was asked. Quatre was pleased the he could keep a low profile when the situation called for one. Still, he could also tell that Duo was itching to get his hands on Wufei's drums again, so he invited him to sit on a chair close to the synthesizer and pointed out the different "voices" he could set for each song.

In that way, the afternoon passed into evening. It was nearly dark when Zechs came to collect them for dinner. They were putting away the instruments and shutting down the power already.

"You're still here? Dinner's waiting."

"Coming," Quatre said.

"Noin's joining us. We rented movies."

"Does that mean we're supposed to hang around or get lost?" Duo whispered to Heero.

"That means," Zechs said, his eyes betraying his good humor at the question. "Well, I'd like it if you stuck around long enough to meet her. She wanted to catch your act. She is the one who told me about you."

"Oh? She follow the L2 music scene?"

"To some degree you might say she follows all the music scenes. She's a scout for Treize Khushrenada."

"The Treize of Romefeller Recording Industries?" Duo snarled. "That Noin? You know OZ syndicate owns Romefeller, don't you? They rip off the artists royally while laundering drug money."

Zechs' lips drew back in a dry-as-gin grin. "How imaginative you are! Romefeller Recording is the largest label anywhere, but they are completely legitimate."

"Not on L3 or L2," Duo said. "Go there and I can prove it."

This was not the time for arguments, Quatre thought. The conversation ended when Quatre stepped in to ask, "Didn't you suggest we try for a Meteor Music label if we win the contest?"

"When you win it, you mean," Zechs corrected him. "Yes, if that meets with Mr. Maxwell's approval?"

"Meteor? Yeah, they're cool." His demeanor was serious as he entered the formal dining room. "I meant what I said, Zechs, and I do not lie."

Noin and Zechs excused themselves and left the dining room. They hadn't been gone a minute before Duo brightened and caught Heero's eye. "I don't know if I can take any more of Rasa recordings."

"You haven't even caught the energy healing videos," Trowa said.

"Or my favorite, the 'Near Death Experiences of Kun Jen'," Quatre said.

"So, you guys up for a night on the town?" Duo asked.

"You heard what Zechs said," Heero answered him.

"What did you have in mind?" Trowa asked.

"Unless you can materialize a car, 'in your mind' is where the night out will remain." Wufei folded his arms across his chest and looked annoyed when Duo didn't instantly perform magic before his eyes. "That's what I thought."

A dangerous gleam shone from Duo's eyes. It sparked Heero's smoldering libido. He wanted Duo to look at him with that predatory passion.

"Twenty minutes. Change clothes and meet in the garage anyone who wants to come along." Duo's smile promised everything.

Heero was surprised that nobody challenged the singer or argued at all, but then they were probably just as curious and shit-faced bored as he was. Quatre lingered a moment until Trowa nudged him upstairs. Wufei was already gone. Heero was standing alone with Duo. He stared at Duo. Sex with a braid. He'd like sex with a braid -- anyway that sounded, he liked it. Then they were inches apart. If Heero leaned, he'd touch the other boy. He wanted. He throbbed with the wanton desire to touch him.

"You have a clean shirt I could borrow?" Duo asked.

"Yes."

"Your room upstairs?"

Heero nodded and turned away, climbing the stairs. He didn't know what to say. If he opened his mouth he'd tell the sexy singer how much he wanted to see him naked. He might get the wrong idea.

"We're about the same size. Quatre's close, too, but I didn't want to get stuck with a pastel shirt, ya know? Don't get me wrong. I think he looks great in them, but he's blond and I'm not. Trowa's arms are too long, and 'Fei would expect me to return his washed, ironed, and starched."

Heero chuckled. He was right about them all. "And me?"

"I just wanna see what your room looks like."

Heero did a double take. He looked at him, shook his head, and looked again. He thought possibly that Duo was joking, but then again he might have been serious. As he opened the door to his room, Heero thought about what clothes he owned might in any possible way interest Duo. He needn't to have concerned himself even that much, though, he discovered. Duo found the closet and rifled though with total abandon and complete ease. He found Heero's favorite black shirt and pulled it out.

"This one's for you," he said. He dug out a dark, shimmering, blue shirt. "Okay? No, maybe we should switch. This one's probably your fav."

"Actually, the black is," Heero said. "I don't even remember having the blue."

He waited. Heero wanted to watch Duo take off his t-shirt. And he did. Right there and then. He just ripped it off over his head, pulled that damned long braid through, and let it drop to the floor.

"I'll need that back sometime," Duo told him. Heero assumed he meant the discarded t-shirt.

He put on the blue shirt, not making a show of it, just one arm then the other. Heero watched with a trained eye measuring his progress second by second. Heero wanted to be that shirt.

"I look okay?"

Up close Heero could tell Duo's legs were longer than his, but that his own torso was longer. The shirt looked great on the slender singer. His eyes were large, but now they were breathtakingly huge. He was looking deeply into Heero's eyes as if he thought he could look the right way and see himself as Heero did.

"No, you look better than okay."

"Ah, thanks. We only have a few minutes. I'll help you."

Heero's eyes were glued to his animated face as Duo's clever, quick fingers unbuttoned his shirt. He shuddered under the touch so light, so fleeting, so unlike what he had expected. Those hands were strong and calloused from piloting, but the fingers were gentle as they flickered over Heero's chest as he opened the shirt and along his hard, muscled arms as drew it off. Heero mourned the loss of them when Duo was done and tossed him the black shirt.

Duo bounced on his bed and lay back, stretching out, leaving Heero to button his shirt on his own. He managed two. He wanted to cover that tantalizingly poised body with his own and press him into the mattress.

"Your workouts paid off," Duo said. "Your shoulders are great. All your upper body is." He sat up, leaning back on his elbows and looked at Heero from beneath his bangs. "I can imagine you keep the rest in good shape, too."

Heero felt those rare-colored, violet-blue eyes burn through his clothes. He was naked; at least, Heero really wanted to be naked, with him like that, now. He couldn't move, even to tuck in his shirt. Duo's shirt was open, exposing a pale slice of skin and his bellybutton.

"Well," Duo said cheerfully, hopping to his feet. "We'll have to pick up from here later. Time to put on your dancing feet."

This time Heero caught the quick-moving boy by his arm before he dashed out of his room. "What do you mean?"

"Huh? Ah, time to go, right?"

"Not that. The other."

"I should get my shirt back, and give you yours."

"That's not what you meant."

Heero wanted to hear his voice asking, or telling, it didn't matter which -- begging would be nice, he thought. He wanted the other boy to want him, here. If he did. He hadn't tried to remove Heero's vise-like grip from his arm, but his gaze traveled from Heero's face to the hand and back. Heero loosened his hold and ran his palm up, feeling the sinewy muscles of Duo's arm until it rested on his shoulder.

"I'm not cheap, but I am on special this week," Duo said in a low voice like velvet that continued to fire Heero's imagination. His smile and wink indicated that he was joking, a little. It would be up to Heero to discover how much.

"When we get back, we can come up here." Whatever he was offering, Heero was taking. He'd take anything. He was drowning in an excess of his own wants, but parched for a genuine connection to them.

"Really? You mean that?"

Heero nodded. "I want you."

Duo grinned. "Well, damn."

Heero had no idea that the other boy solicited all three of his band mates, even if in jest, and that only he had accepted the offer. It wouldn't have mattered. Right then all that mattered to Heero was how he felt for him, that mind-slamming need to touch, to kiss, to be with Duo Maxwell.

The five boys gathered at the entry to the garage then opened the door for Duo to see what was there. The band van blocked most of the view, but it was obvious the place could hold a fleet of vehicles, which it did. He was awed. They all had been when they had arrived, one at a time. There was a male bonding over the sporty Jaguar, the durable Ranger, and the Harley, while they discussed the dinner company.

"You don't like her?" Heero asked.

"Noin? Nah, she's cool, but if she doesn't know what her boss is really up to..." he hesitated uncharacteristically "... She doesn't strike me as being dense."

"She's nice," Quatre stated as truth.

"Okay, I'm not fond of the girlfriend, but I've never had one, so she's probably fine as far as they go. I will say this for the guy though, he has one sweet ride."

"But it's his, not ours and he won't lend us the keys to any of these," Quatre said.

"We have tried," Trowa put in.

Wufei added nothing.

It was the BMW sedan Duo chose because it looked good and could hold them all. They watched as he pulled out a lock picking tool from his braid and in seconds, popped the door locks.

"'Ro," give it some gas when I say." Duo had the hood open and hot-wired the engine moments later. "Keys, shmees, ya know? Who needs them?"

"You're stealing Zechs' car!" Quatre said in a gasp of real shock.

He stole my heart, Heero thought to himself.

"I'm a thief," Duo admitted.

"Yes you are," Heero muttered.

"I would like it if four people did a cartwheel all at once... so I can make a cart and have a ride, but...heh, heh. So, anybody know the way to town?"

Yes, they did.

Chapter 5 -- Beautiful Boy

As Duo slid into the driver's seat -- a position everyone recognized he deserved to have without argument -- Heero and Trowa contrived to seat Quatre in the middle in the back seat. Even as Quatre's arm reached for the front passenger door handle, Heero used his superior weight and strength to edge in first. Trowa masterfully opened the rear door and directed Quatre to get in. He smirked in Wufei's direction. Apparently wishing to avoid the center seat, Wufei used his leverage so that, as he rounded the back end of the car, he pushed off the rear tail light and bounded to the door, wrenched it open and dove into the seat, all before Quatre had a foot inside.

Quatre frowned at both of them, but Trowa was waiting patiently for him to get in, so he did without a word. Quatre couldn't find his seat belt. Trowa was sitting on half of it and managed to give the boy the minimal space to squeeze his hand under his ass to retrieve it. He watched the blush spread over Quatre's cheeks as he found the buckle and tugged fruitlessly on it. Then Trowa rolled his hips, grinding into the hand. To his delight, Quatre didn't flinch; instead, he grabbed and pinched Trowa's thigh to get him to move.

Trowa eased up on the seat belt, but only after Wufei growled at them, "Stop screwing around and be still. There's not enough space as it is!"

Duo found the lights and the music. "How do we get outta here?"

"Second," Heero said. Humming quietly as he thumbed through the carton of maps, sunglasses, notepapers, and "got it!" Heero waved a gadget towards the back of the car. "Automatic garage door opener," he explained.

"Cool."

Half way down the block Wufei began with the directions.

"You've been to the club district?" Quatre asked.

"I've been by it, not in it. The library is also in the downtown, but on the other side. Zechs and I go there frequently. Now turn here -- no, left!"

The car swung wide, sending Quatre into Trowa's lap. He still hadn't hooked his seat belt. Trowa's arms clasped him tightly and held him steady. Quatre didn't squirm so Trowa didn't let go, and, amazingly, Wufei kept his mouth shut. When Quatre's head rested against his chest, Trowa sucked in his breath, letting it out in a steady stream so he could ruffle the soft, blond hair. Quatre swatted at the lock of hair blown awry. So engaged were they in this pastime, they nearly missed Duo's lively, ongoing conversation with Wufei and Heero pointing out landmarks.

"Right, Barton?" Wufei kicked his foot to get his attention. "A lit parking lot with a guard on duty? By the train station or ... just forget it. He doesn't know his ass from a hole in the ground. Turn right at the one way street and go slowly."

Trowa gazed out the window, listening to Duo ramble on and on. He couldn't stand listening to that all day. More power to Yuy if he could.

"...So I went to the store and bought eight apples. The clerk asked me, 'Do you want these in a bag?' And I said, 'Oh, no, man, I juggle.' I don't know, maybe I was stoned or drunk, but it seemed funnier then."

"Hn," was all Heero had to say in response. "There is the lot. Two o'clock."

"Gotcha. It's gonna cost us, but believe me we don't wanna leave a beauty like this on the street where we're going."

"It would be okay."

"Yeah? On L2 it would be stripped in fifteen minutes flat. I've seen it done. Hey, it wasn't me! But I say, if a dude's stupid enough to put his wheels in danger then, well, those guys stealing the parts gotta make a living too, ya know?"

"Are you amoral?" Wufei bit off. "Laws give order to society. Justice systems -- without them you get chaos."

"You get L2 where the rules change to meet the needs of the men in charge, not the needs of the people. So... the peons rebel in little ways and bend the rules so that they can find ways to eke out an existence."

"There's a place I never wish to visit," Wufei vowed.

Trowa chuckled deep down in his chest, rocking Quatre's head a little. Quatre seemed to become aware of himself and sat up. "Are we here already?"

"Looks like it," Trowa said.

Duo took the time card from the man on guard duty, who wished them well. "Have a nice evening."

"Thanks, but we got other plans," Duo told him with a laugh, and turned the wheel into the lane to locate a parking space.

"Is everything a joke with you?" Wufei asked tartly.

"Nope, you keep reminding me it's not. You know, 'Fei, as the days go by, I think of how lucky I am that you're not here to ruin it for me."

Trowa couldn't move. He had a hand over his eyes, his body trembling with silent laughter, until Quatre punched him in the side, playfully.

"I want to get out on your side. Wufei might bite," Quatre whispered.

Duo let the idle die out and set the brake, ignoring the sputtering and huffing 'Fei. "So we hike a couple blocks and start checking out the clubs. Me, I like the ones with live shows. The ones with deejays-only next. Can't take the canned clubs at all. If they're gay, cool, but not ne