The sparkle of shattering glass echoed through the room, and it was immensely satisfying.

Heero's ears perked. Twitched. The urge to hear more lured him, and he caved. He grabbed the pillow at the other end of the couch and whipped it toward the kitchen, watching it take down the simple steel lamp on its way. Wobbling, tipping, crashing. The thin pole tried feebly to bounce, clanking against the tiles. The light bulb smashed brilliantly, too. Twinkle twinkle little shards. He kicked at the coffee table, hard, and witnessed its skid into the television unit with a bang. Papers flew in disarray, like birds in sudden danger. But it wasn't a big spectacle, no, not big enough at all. Damn. Anything else in this apartment willing to lend itself to destructive catharsis?

Those damn hazel eyes were still in his mind, sneering at him, laughing at him. Jeering. The guy was lucky he had gotten away with just a fist to the jaw. He wanted to pummel the dimples off that cheeky grin, that good-for-nothing ass. Who did he think he was, coming into this apartment and accusing Heero of all that junk, all that fucking blather? So what if it was true or not? As if Heero didn't know anything about himself. What gave him the bloody right?

Heero ignored the accusations and implications and all that useless crap. Damn idiot was freaking lucky he had been interrupted. Goddamn boy should have bled. Amused at Heero's misery? Ass. What Heero would give to be able to drag him and stuff him in the dumpster downstairs. Throw his stupid paintings and audiotapes in too. He has everything Heero wants? As fucking if.

Heero's scoff sounded suspiciously bitter.

Quaint would be one word to describe it. It's not the word Heero uses, but still, it fits. The front porch is typical, and the back porch is larger than the front, with a path opening out to a small pier and a lake, its size undeterminable by speculation alone. Clear, fresh waters match the lush greens and cool air. The surroundings engulf the modest cabin. Inside the cabin is a kitchen and living area complete with a bookshelf and a fireplace, and also a single bathroom and bedroom. The interior is in shades of brown: natural beiges and chestnuts to manmade roans and stains. It is well equipped -- water and sewage, electricity and internet -- and meant to cater comforts both natural and acquired. Far from the small, camping-in-wilderness lodgings from way back Before Colony. But it is still a change from the urban, city life. It's still charming, and rural, and quaint.

He doesn't use any words to describe the cabin. It's a cabin, and it's available, and it's away from everyone. That's all he cared about when he arrived; it's all he cares about now. He is still pleased with it, not that he really thinks about it much.

It was not a new cabin when he had moved in, but it was clean, and had been well-kept. Dust and a bit of roofing were the only things Heero really had to deal with; the former had been taken care of easily, with the latter not taking long to follow. There are still other things to do, things to fix or improve or just contemplate about, but nothing glaring, nothing majorly wrong. The simplicity of the place suits his nature easily. A wonderful place for a little escapism.

Thursday nights, Heero and Duo would meet up after work for a little 1-on-1 on the court a few blocks down from Duo's apartment, which was not too far from Heero's apartment either. Who arrived first was up for grabs; they each brought a ball with them to practice with during the wait. Afterwards, they would go back up to Duo's, make dinner, and get caught up with what they had each been up to during the week, which in most cases was just the few days since they had last spoken on Sunday.

Usually, he found Duo waiting for him, but that wasn't the case this time, so Heero warmed up as he waited. He went through his stretches, then began to run along the black pavement around the scuffed, orange court. As he retightened the laces on his running shoes, he idly wondered how Duo's day at the shop had been. Moving past free throws around the key, he started practicing his lay-ups to bide time. This was later than usual for Duo.

The ball spun through hoop and hit the court when he heard Duo's laughter. A sound he'd recognize anywhere, even in the busiest mall, half asleep. Crisp, lively, ringing laughter. But Duo was obviously not laughing at him or to him. Heero turned around; his eyes met with another, and his mind went on alert. Darren.

"Hey Heero," Duo greeted. "Sorry for making you wait --" Heero nodded it away; Duo knew he didn't need to apologize, but he always did it anyway. "-- but today was just crazy busy, and Darren was helping me close up. We've been closing up late all week."

"If only they paid for over-overtime, right, Duo? We'd be rich. Rich, I tell ya."

Heero blocked out the rest of the conversation, distracting himself with a large gulp from his water bottle and tossing it back to his bag. The sky was developing into a purplish blue, but the sun still sat bright and white-orange to the west. It would be red and hazy soon, as autumn was fond of rushing late afternoon into evening without a care.

"So yeah --" Duo turned to Heero as he dropped his bag beside Heero's deep green one. He tilted his head over to his co-worker against the black fence. "-- I told him to come watch us play a bit and just chill from the day. Take a break, you know? You don't mind, right?"

He did, actually, Heero did. But he didn't know why, and couldn't give a legitimate reason. Maybe it was the way Darren seemed to brush Heero off. Maybe it was because he was imposing himself everywhere, regardless that Duo had invited him here this time. Something about him was unnerving. But what could he say?

Right. So he merely lobbed the basketball to Duo. "You're up first."

The court was worn, the white lines on orange bumps barely visible anymore. It didn't matter to them or to anyone else who rallied there. All everyone wanted was a place to shoot some hoops, hang out. Duo racked up several points quickly, taking easy shots to warm himself up. Heero started to get into the game a little more, placing his body closer to Duo's to ward off the defensive or shut down the offensive, stealing glances at Darren at the same time. But Duo was getting the better of him tonight. The two of them bumped shoulders again as Duo broke to the left and took another shot, letting the ball roll off his fingertips and up. Duo shrugged half-apologetically back to him as it went in, but Heero was distracted by the spectator on the sidelines.

He hated it, hated the way Darren cheered and bounced off the fence when Duo made the shot, hated the grin on his face. Hated the wink Duo just threw back. Hated how Darren's presence seemed to energize Duo. He was losing, and losing badly. In more ways than one.

"Hey man," Duo called as he checked the ball back to Heero, "don't play easy on me just cuz I've had a crazy week. You're down almost twelve points."

"Actually, thirteen," Darren chimed. Heero glowered at the merry sound.

"I assure you, Heero is normally much stiffer competition." Duo threw a cheeky grin at Heero as the ball floated from Heero's hands and slid through the net. "See? Whoo, three-pointer!"

Heero gave a noncommittal response as they passed the ball again. It was true he had been letting Duo off a little easy, but not this easy. His breathing was getting heavy, he noted, but Duo's had just started pacing -- and Duo was the one who worked overtime today. He was upset, upset at this Darren, whose face was becoming too familiar. His name kept popping up in conversations. The time he spent with Duo was undoubtedly increasing. It ate at Heero, took his focus away from the game. His shots were off the mark, bouncing off the rim instead of swishing through the net, overshot with pent-up anger. His footing became heavy and slow. It was outrageous.

"Whoa, man, air ball. You okay?" Duo kept moving as he asked, dribbling back to the faded clearing line at half-court.

"Make him leave."

"What? Who?" Duo paused mid-step as he asked. "Darren?"

Heero tried to steal the ball and missed. "Yeah," he growled back. He got a raised eyebrow in response. Heero darted another glare toward the sidelines and back, but it gave Duo ample opportunity to take another shot and score.

"Fine," Duo replied, his breathing heavy. He was confused and suspicious, but he let it go, and went over to see Darren off.

Heero watched the exchange, heard the two of them laughing briefly, and stood alone with a negativity he couldn't place. His eyes focused in when Duo clapped his hand on Darren's back, and narrowed on the return from Darren. The fingers that felt, rather than touched, the jersey on Duo's back, the wisps of Duo's braid. The way they lingered there. Loitered. Heero had to force himself to unclench his fists and loosen the tension in his joints. It was as if even his bones were grinding together in displeasure. And Duo just smiled, Heero's rage unknown.

It seemed to last for so long, even though it couldn't have taken more than a minute to get Darren out the gate and for Duo to return, tossing him a bottle of water. They took short drinks and let the sweat drip from their brows before rolling the bottles off the court.

"So, you wanna talk?" Duo asked as Heero picked up the ball.

"No." He threw the ball to Duo. "Fifteen more minutes."

"Alright then." Duo threw the ball back and bounced on his toes. "Bring it, Yuy."

He wanted to work it off, this unnerving feeling that egged him. He wasn't sure what it was, and yet he knew it was something. It was almost like something he couldn't admit. Who the heck was this Darren to barge in on his time with Duo? Heero was still down nine points, nine points that Duo had gotten from Darren's presence, and he had to close the margin; he couldn't let Darren win. Basketball was his game with Duo. His. Only his.

The sun was nearly gone from the sky, but there was still enough light to play by. They started up again, more serious this time. Heero stopped thinking about Darren and Duo's relationship and let his body take over.

Drops of sweat combined between their bodies as they collided -- shoulders, backs, arms -- each trying to hold off the other. Heero loved it when they really went for it, feeling his muscles tighten and stretch. He loved the focus in Duo's eyes, his energy and spirit making him even more enticing to be around. His own body felt more alive every time they came into contact, every time Duo's skin rubbed across his own. It made his spine tingle when Duo slammed his back completely into his chest, and they fought, pushing each other with their torsos, neither giving an inch.

Heero caught up with about two minutes to spare, and from then on it was neck in neck. He was up by one point until Duo succeeded in making a bank shot and went up on Heero by one. Heero had the ball now, but Duo was great at defense when it counted. Every step he made toward the net was met with resistance. Every turn, blocked.

He made a snap decision and pulled back, opening a tiny space between their bodies, just enough to take a shot if he was quick enough. The ball was up and ready when he saw the intense look in Duo's eyes and realized Duo was leaping right at him. Reflexes took over and he let the ball go, Duo crashing into him a split second later.

They hit the ground, hard, Duo's arms on either side of his head and Duo's body crushing his with the force of his launch. Heero felt Duo's breath on his neck and along his jaw. One of his hands met with a damp jersey and a messy braid, another with a sweaty shoulder. His arms had instinctively gone around Duo, catching him after releasing the ball. The sound of the ball hitting pavement reached their ears, no bounce off the rim or the backboard, nothing but net and court.

"Alright," Duo heaved, still on top of Heero's body. "Uncle. I give. You win. I can't believe you made the shot." They lingered there awhile, together, one on the other, heads side by side. Heero felt Duo's body relaxing, and felt his own relaxing in return. But both became self-aware at the same time, and Duo rolled onto his back beside Heero with Heero's arm still on his shoulder blade, now sandwiched onto the ground. "Good game."

Heero retracted his arm and bent it under his head. They laid for a while, catching their breaths before Duo spoke up.

"Alright, what the hell was that back there?"

It was ambiguous, the question, but Heero knew what Duo meant. "I don't trust him."

"Why? What's there to distrust?"

Heero had no answer. He had no name for what had been happening inside him today, no words at all. And it wasn't just today either. The feelings were popping up more and more every time he saw Darren, and with a greater intensity. He lay staring at the darkened sky, remembering that he had felt faintly possessive of Duo, but then tried to leave that line of thought as quickly as it came. Duo didn't belong to anyone but Duo. But if he did, it certainly wouldn't be, shouldn't be that smug Darren. Or that other guy, what was that name on the valentine Duo had written a few months back? Outside of work, Duo didn't need to see any of them, really. If he wanted to watch a movie or have a few beers, he could do that with Heero. That's what friends do. He shut his mind off after that. He lay a little longer, until his heartbeat was good as normal.

"Hey, you better put something on. Feels like winter without the sun, here. I'm freezing."

He was shaken from his reverie by Duo's words and realized he was indeed getting goosebumps too, no longer kept warm by his earlier heated thoughts. He got up and accepted the windbreaker Duo pulled from his green bag.

"You shut down when Darren's around. And he seems to get just the slightest bit tense when he sees you, too. I don't know what the hell the problem is, but I hope it goes away. Darren keeps me sane from the crazy clients who have ridiculous requests and have no concept of time and all that shit. And you, I ain't getting rid of you. But I don't want to play mediator when you're both around." Heero was about to shoot a petty comment about Darren, but Duo continued.

"You can do that for me, right?" Duo didn't wait for an answer. "C'mon, let's get out of here and grab some food -- my treat. I don't feel like making dinner tonight. But I get the shower first."

"Deal."

They sat facing the open bar, backs to the busy tables being waited on by staff in black clothing with red aprons around their waists. Spiral lamps hung from the ceiling, dotted over tables and booths. Blues and purples in the corners, reds and oranges everywhere else. The bar was popular, and people frequently found themselves with no place to sit on weekends. Weekdays were better, but the bar still saw most tables full. It was a good business.

A girl squirmed in behind Heero to grab something from the bartender, leaving as quickly as she came. Her eyes had lingered momentarily on the sign under the clock. Must have ID to drink. But the sign was just for show; they never really ever checked. Not that it mattered to Heero either way.

"Have you heard from Catherine?"

"Yeah, I got a call from her last week. She says their tour will be done at the end of next month and she'll be around to visit. It'll be good to have her over. My place hasn't had much activity lately." Trowa munched on the complimentary peanuts. Just the right amount of salt. "You? What've you been up to?"

"Just the usual. Work. Home. Out now and then."

"Yeah, so Duo tells me."

A shrug. "I lead a pretty boring life."

"As long as you're okay with it." There was no answer coming. "But you aren't...?"

"Well... Now and then I just wonder, what's the point?"

"We all have days like that."

"What do you do?"

"Not too much. It usually goes away fairly quickly. Sometimes I pick up my flute and play a little. I haven't been practicing regularly, so it gets me back on track. You should pick up a hobby. It'll keep you busy."

"Yeah, maybe."

They sat around for a while, letting time flow. In the bar, glasses clinked and orders were taken. The cash register rolled. The bartender mixed two vodka tonics on the rocks, then a mango margarita, the fruity drink permeating the quiet air between the two. But the air was not exactly relaxed, and finally Heero let out a defeated sigh, drawing Trowa back to him.

"You're a smart guy, Heero. You know how to figure stuff out. Why does it seem like you're so unhappy all of a sudden?"

"I don't know. Little things, I guess is what 'people' would say."

"So change them, if they're so little." He popped another peanut into his mouth. "Or forget about them and go out on a date once in a while."

Heero took a sip of his beer. "You're one to talk."

"Yeah, okay, so I'm a hypocrite." Trowa shrugged and tossed his head to move his hair from his eyes. "But we're talking about you."

"A date? With who? How do I know what to look for?"

"Someone who makes you smile, for one. You can go from there. Even I smile more than you."

Eyes rolled. "Smiling is overrated."

"Ha. Don't let Duo hear that." Trowa tossed the rest of his drink back and placed the glass back on the coaster, getting up off the stool. "Anyways, I better go. Call me sometime, okay? And remember: happy."

Happy. Right. Heero scoffed. Happy people are idiots. Probably have to trade half their lives to get that clichéd feeling. Was it worth it? Probably not. He wondered what connections he would have to make to find the guy who makes the trade. That guy might be worth looking for, instead of a date. Or maybe he can date the happy trade guy. Leave him hanging on whether he wanted to be a happy idiot or a smart downer. That would be absolutely fantastic. Maybe Happy Guy is a girl. Either way, it must be a scam. Heero wished it were that easy to be happy. But then he would be an idiot too. Damn.

Heero mused at the strange comparisons he was making. Maybe he was spending too much time with Duo. Or not enough. He wished he could be in Duo's circle of joy. Hey, Duo was happy and also not an idiot. Clearly there was a way to do it. But Duo was probably the only exception.

Where was he going with this, anyway? He decided that happy people are annoying. And way too abundant. There. Done. Heero reached into his pocket and pulled out a few bills, placing them on the counter and exchanging nods with the bartender. He could keep the change. He deserved it.

A drunken man belched to his far left when he got up off the stool. He had been mumbling all night, but his voice picked up when Heero passed. "Yer damn right it's ov'rrated. I 'ate 'appy people!" he griped. "Theeey can go fuck-'emselves. If they so damn 'appy, why don't they share deh big secret wit' the rest o'us, 'uh? Se-elfish bastards!"

The thought lingered and found itself resonating in Heero's mind as he left.

At some point Heero decides to give the guitar a try. He had seen it two weeks in when he had decided to move things around in the cabin. Why not, if he is going to stay a while. The instrument is foreign to him in almost every way -- the awkward shape, the different strings; the thickness and the thinness and the hollowness of it. The sounds. He's heard acoustic guitars before, but only in recordings. It's sorely out of tune, but he doesn't know what to do about it, nor does he yet care.

The first day, he does little more than pluck the strings. Separately. Together. Feels the difference in the top three strings. Watches the vibration. He studies the lines on the neck, sees his solitude in the spaces. It doesn't bother him, being alone. He was mostly alone back in the city, too. Only in the few months before he had left had he really started spending more time with someone, with Duo. He doesn't much feel lonely; it's not something he worries about, because he knows it won't be for a long time coming.

It takes another few days before he picks up the guitar again. Mostly out of boredom, with a pinch of curiosity. Okay, maybe more than a pinch. It unsettles him, not understanding something. He searches for guides on the internet and is bombarded by thousands of hits. They all look the same; he chooses one arbitrarily.

He learns the names of the notes each string is given by default. Intervals don't mean anything to him outside of a song, so he finds a tuner on another site. E. A. D. Heero doesn't know music, but he has excellent hearing, and the tuning happens quickly. G. B. It's new, fixing an instrument that isn't a machine. E. It intrigues him, as many things do here, intrigues him like the poetry on the shelves and the birds' leisure in the sky and the feel of walking around topless in the heat.

He doesn't do completely as instructed, but he does read everything. An armless chair, check. No slouching, check. Fingernails trimmed, check. It's awkward, holding the guitar the "proper" way, curling the fingers just so around the fretboard. He has no pick, but they say that is okay, so he continues.

Two hours later, he has learned three chords and a chromatic scale. It's enough for now. It gives him a satisfaction he hasn't felt in the past little while. He sets the guitar back against the bookshelf and goes to cook dinner.

The sunlight makes the tiny particles of dust dance over his nose and his face twitches. He fights the itch in favour of sleeping further, and a part of his mind fights his fighting. He should get up now, like he used to. In fact, he's already late, by those standards. Late and irresponsible. He shuts that part of him up.

He turns his head and the itch goes away momentarily. Sleeping in is still new to him. Sunlight streaming over his eyelids is new. He is not actually late, even by his past standards, as the light he gets now comes from the early dawn, whereas sunlight in his boxed-in apartment building meant late, late, late. No-time-for-breakfast-and-emails late. Don't-get-into-an-accident late. He has nothing to be late for now, no office opening and closing times to adhere to. He is still an early riser, but now to a different tune.

Getting up is enjoyable when it's not rushed. He lingers, sliding his legs in between the sheets a while. Muses over what he needs to accomplish for the day and what he wants to. Breakfast does not follow in the next twenty minutes so he can get out the door. Now it comes about an hour after he rises. He likes the changes to his old routine. It's not something he ever thought about before, that such small changes would make a difference. He could have gone to work later and stayed a little longer, but it just never crossed his mind. Nor the idea of using his laptop to listen to a new song before going to bed, instead of to double-check his presentation slides. Little things.

Had these choices been available to him all this time? So easy to reach if he had just thought harder about them? Maybe. For now, it is time to get up and muse about breakfast. Probably banana bread and apple juice.

Heero lifted the top layer of his green napkin, already folded into the bird base, to create a long diamond, then brought the sides to the middle once again to make an even thinner diamond. Creasing the folds, he turned the napkin around and repeated the procedure on the other side. Almost done. A few inside-reverse and mountain folds later, he was done. He held the flowery napkin pattern at the base with one hand and the lightly embossed tail with the other, and pulled. And pulled again.

Nothing happened.

Heero stared at the bird in his hand and went over the steps once more in his head. Fold in half, all directions, collapse to base, diamonds, sides to center, head, tail, wings... What went wrong? It wasn't a complicated design; he shouldn't have missed anything.

"Excuse me."

Heero looked up and saw smiling hazel eyes coupled with ash brown hair and an amused air. Heero briefly studied the guy in front of him. Good smile, with just a hint of dimples in the cheeks. He recalled seeing Duo talking animatedly with him shortly after they first arrived. But that was no surprise -- it was a company gathering, after all. It would make sense for Duo to know and be sociable with everyone here. He wouldn't have been here at all except Duo's car was in the shop, and Duo had somehow managed to wheedle him into staying the drive. Not exactly his first choice of Saturday afternoon activities, but it wasn't as if he were busy per se. He had committed to picking Duo up afterwards, anyway.

"Are you're trying to make the flying bird?"

Heero blinked and nodded, then turned his attention back to the thing in his hand. He was, but it wouldn't flap for some reason. It felt silly, to be stumped by a simple origami bird, but he was determined to figure it out. He was so close; he almost remembered what he had done wrong. He knew it had something to do with the wings. Did he mix up the wings and the head? No, that couldn't be it.

"I can see you're still trying to figure it out." The stranger smiled some more. "I'll give you a hint: think simple."

'No shit,' thought Heero as the guy walked off. It's a freaking bird that flaps its wings. Everyone knew it was simple, just not which simple was the right simple. Thus it was complicated. Now what exactly was he missing...

"Bored?"

A shadow came over his hands and Heero knew it to be Duo by the voice and the tone. "It's okay, I guess. Wasn't expecting anything, really."

Duo chuckled lightly. "Folding birds to keep you company? There wasn't any green on Wing. Don't tell me you've forgotten already."

"Of course not." Heero tugged on the tail again. Nothing. Damn.

"You're supposed to mingle a little, man. Or mingle around with me, at least. Not stand here stealing napkins."

Heero shrugged. He knew Duo knew he wasn't he socializing type. Nothing against Duo's coworkers, of course.

"Well, I see you met Darren, at least."

"Who?"

"Darren? The guy who was just talking to you? Like, five minutes ago? Don't tell me you were ignoring him." Duo gave a friendly shove. "Heero?"

Heero twisted his arm behind him and threw the thing onto the table. "Ugh, I give up." He felt like an idiot, couldn't even make a stupid bird flap its wings. Why was he wasting his time? He stood around trying to think of something else to do when he realized Duo was still standing with him, also doing absolutely nothing. "Why aren't you with other people?"

"I'm keeping you company."

"Not gonna drag me around and have me meet people?"

"Nah. Not your thing. I shoulda known that." Duo quirked his lips to one side and gave a small, apologetic smile. "I dunno why I asked you to stay. I just wanted to spend the day with you too, I guess."

Heero blinked, then nodded and smiled back. They stood in comfortable silence, the sounds of feet shuffling and teeth crunching and conversations lilting in the background.

"Hey, what happened to the bird? Did you finish it?"

He was back, the brunet -- Darren -- casually strolling back to where Heero was still standing -- albeit now with company. Company he wanted to be alone with. Damn. Duo perked up immediately, probably delighted to see the one person Heero supposedly socialized with today. That didn't please Heero either. "I lost interest."

"Gave up, you mean," Duo scoffed. "He abandoned it, the poor bird."

"I could show you, if you'd like?" Darren retrieved a similar white napkin from his jeans. "It's really very simple."

Heero started to shake his head, completely not in the mood to feel even more inferior than he already felt. He was already bested by a piece of paper. How much lower could one go?

Apparently, the answer was lower, as he watched Darren do the exact same folds as he did. Less accurately, too, for Heero was somewhat of a perfectionist. But when the little bird flew, that no longer mattered. Great, just great. Didn't anyone teach this guy not to kick a guy when he's down? Especially if he got beaten down by a napkin? But what really aggravated him was to see Duo fawning eagerly over the bird. Bested, and had his company stolen from him. Hell, damn this guy.

"You made a crane -- you know, those wishing birds. Which is great, don't get me wrong. But they don't fly. You were thinking complicated on the wings -- that was your problem. The wings are simple: no double fold. Complicated things don't fly."

"Yours doesn't fly either. It just flaps." So what if he was splitting hairs? He was feeling petty. This guy started it anyway, challenging him to a bird folding contest. Yeah, so what if he won? Stupid Darren and his stupid smile. Did this guy think he was being charming?

Darren's mouth opened to respond, but closed quickly when he saw the displeasure on Heero's face. "Yeah, heh, yeah. Okay, good luck with that, then." Then he turned and left.

Duo was still next to him, flapping the bird once, twice.

"I could've made it too, you know. I can make it fly."

Duo picked up the orphaned crane on the table and placed it in Heero's hand, tilting his head in thought. "When you finish it, can I have it?"

Heero blinked at the unexpected emotion in Duo's voice. Like he really, really wanted Heero to make the bird. It was strange, but really touching. "Yeah." They looked at each other and Heero waited for more words to form in his mind, but they were interrupted by Darren's voice slicing through them.

"Hey Duo, Misha says she wants to talk to us about something or other. You free right now?"

"Yeah, I'm coming." Duo clapped one hand on Heero's back before jogging away to catch up with Darren. Heero hoped Darren tripped and fell and made a huge fool of himself in front of Duo. That would serve him right. Why he was feeling so spiteful all of a sudden, he didn't know.

Heero put the crane on the table and walked off to his car.

On the internet, Heero meets a girl on a reading forum he joined on a whim. She likes metal and machines, the mechanics of moving parts and also of the mind. She enjoys music and, of course, reading. The former she enviously has no gift in, so she sits on the sidelines and listens while she delves in the latter. All this he learns from her bio.

He adds 'sweetmachines' to his IM list -- she is the only one there other than Relena. The days in the cabin are lonely, and that opens Heero up in a way that being surrounded by outgoing people never did. Work is likewise boring. She keeps him company between lines of code and waiting for water to boil. She is easy to chat with because they do little more than discuss car parts and book passages and she jokes about the silliness of people on the news, of criminals and world records and politics. A veiled analysis of the world at large.

Duo would like this girl, Heero thinks.

Later, they gain a sense of familiarity and friendship, sharing anecdotes without names or places, but these are stories and a part of themselves all the same. It's a relationship with the anonymity and satisfaction that only the internet can provide.

"Hey Heero?"

"Yeah?"

"Let's take music lessons."

"Sure? We can find ourselves dance partners and sign up for that too, while we're at it."

"I'm serious."

"Why?"

"Why not? It'd be fun."

"You say that about a lot of things. Why the sudden commitment?"

Duo shrugged weakly. "No, no reason."

"There's a reason."

Heero heard Duo's sigh. "I saw you eyeing those guitars and keyboards again today. You do that every time I park there and pay the meter. You wanna learn, I know it." Indigo eyes looked into his. "I just thought maybe you'd go do it if I took them with you."

"Oh."

"I wanna see you doing things you'd enjoy, you know? And...I wanna do them with you." Duo continued, somewhat softly. "Like when we play basketball, and stuff. It's good to see you relaxed."

"I would hardly call myself relaxed when we're playing basketball."

"Yeah well, I'm just that good."

Heero snorted, but he couldn't hide the shy smile. They continued walking, side by side. "Thanks, Duo."

There's a warm breeze on his skin as he sits on the dark, wooden panels of the pier. The rough, rocky shore to his left and back sits happily, reflecting the afternoon sun that the conifers by the cabin are soaking in. Little round waves of water bounce off the posts of the pier extending down below him. Despite being by the water, the heat wins out and blankets the entire area.

Heero swings his legs back and forth over the edge of the pier like a little kid, even though he doesn't feel like a little kid. Maybe some part of him does. He watches a gull in the distance scan the waters for fish. There are some small silver ones swimming not far from the pier, and he watches those for a while as well.

A thin film of sweat coats his skin, and he wants to go swimming. Naked. Skinny dip. 'But that's not allowed.' He recites mentally, 'It's frowned upon because people do not want to be subjected to unexpected images of...'

But there are no other people around. So what if it's frowned upon? Who's here to frown? Exactly. He can do whatever he wants, and what he wants is to throw off his clothes and dive into the water. Should he do it?

Seconds later, a crisp splash sounds and the silver fish dart away from the area. For a second, he wonders what in the world possessed him to remove all his clothes. The water is damned cold! His shirt must be laughing at him right now, sunbathing up there with his shorts and sandals while he shivers and flails his limbs around to keep himself afloat and, more importantly, warm.

Despite himself, Heero grins. Skinny dipping is fun.

The takeout sat on the black, marble countertop in the kitchen, waiting to be opened. Beside it laid the day's paper, ruffled but neatly put back in place. "Crash on LSW turnoff injures five," a headline read. The victims, a young couple who were out shopping, and four friends of which one remained unscathed. The news was followed up by an editorial further in the paper, deploring the lack of seat belt use by young teens.

Heero caught snippets of another car crash as he slowly flipped through the channels, his body relaxed on the midnight blue sofa, taking up two of the three outlined seats. He paused on an episode of a political drama, but it was a rerun of a rerun -- in fact, he watched the rerun two nights ago -- and continued on. There would be a documentary on at 10, but Duo should be back to the apartment by then. He knew Duo was going out to a movie with a few coworkers, but he assured Heero he would not be having dinner with them and to bring up the usual, leaving his extra keycard at the front desk for Heero to pick up.

He had settled on the weather channel when he heard the beep of the card sliding into the lock of the apartment door. Voices filtered in through the crack, conversation unclear amidst the sunny but windy forecast of the next few days. As the door opened fully, he caught snippets of details of the movie they had watched -- an animated film about a renegade spaceship that befriends an alien on Mars. Fit for guys and gals, and most importantly, plenty of cute, relaxing humour. Heero flicked his eyes from the TV to the doorway, seeing Duo inside with one hand on the knob and a blonde male against the doorjamb. A blonde male who was leaning forward, tilting his head toward an unsuspecting Duo.

His senses went on immediate alert and he leapt from the couch to the door, body suddenly filled with adrenaline. It was amazing the speed with which he crossed the distance, placing his shoulder between the two guys who stared. Startled. The blonde especially, not knowing how fast Heero could be. And who was likely expecting Duo's place to be empty.

He saw the blonde take him in -- his flushed body, hard-set jaw, menacing eyes complete with a craze of hair -- and take a small step back. Heero didn't realize how murderous he looked, even if it was what he was going for. "Get out," he pushed through gritted teeth.

"Uh... um..."

"Heero!"

"Out!" The blonde jumped at the order.

"Duo...?"

Duo sighed heatedly. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said across Heero.

"Yeah, okay," the blonde replied, trying to look beyond Heero. "Um, good night."

Heero stood and watched his backside get smaller and smaller down the hall until Duo shoved him aside and slammed the door. "What the hell was that, huh?"

Heero walked back in and harshly set his hand on the tabletop, back to Duo, not answering the question. "I don't fucking want to see him here again."

"Oh really? This is my apartment, remember? That's a little harsh, don't you think?" Duo waited. "You're not kidding, are you."

It wasn't a question. And there was no answer forthcoming.

"What the hell are you so angry for? If anyone should be pissed it's me!"

Heero turned around, his other hand gripping the table backwards. "Do you want me to leave?"

"You were rude! Beyond rude!"

"He was going to kiss you!" Heero blurted.

"And you don't think I knew that?"

"So you were gonna let him do it?!"

"No. But so what if I was? Am I not allowed to be kissed, is that it?"

Heero's knuckles went even whiter, willing himself to not to answer that.

"I can handle myself, you know? I piloted a Gundam and survived, too," Duo continued, pacing to vent out his frustration, arms flying. "You know, I let it go every time, but you keep pulling stuff like this. Is this a hobby? Do you do this to everyone?"

A pause. "There isn't any everyone," Heero replied, almost emotionless, looking away.

At that, Duo deflated. He sat down on the couch, forehead in one hand. "Thank you, Heero, for looking out for me." He looked up at Heero. "But don't be so harsh about it. And I'm fine. It's unnecessary. Just..." One arm rose, then flopped. "I can deal with it."

Heero knew that wasn't it -- he wasn't looking out for Duo; it was something else, something intensely selfish. But he let it go, and replied, "Okay."

"Now -- tell me you got chicken and not beef, or I'm really gonna kick you."

"Sometimes I wonder about you, Heero."

Heero stopped typing and looked at the back of Duo's head on the couch. "Hm?"

"Perfectly good night and you're sitting in front of your laptop doing work, of all things. Work! Do you really have fun with that?"

"No. It's boring. But it needs to be done." The clacking resumed.

"If it's so boring, why are you doing it? Do you even like your job?"

Heero shrugged, even though Duo couldn't see it. "It pays for things. Not everyone likes their job."

"Okay, fine. What about other stuff? What about life? You enjoying life? Got everything you need? Doing everything you want and all that?"

His hands stilled, considering everything -- and everyone -- in his apartment. He had to will himself to keep typing and not to think about it. "I'm happy right now."

Duo raised an eyebrow, then shrugged at the vague and weighty response. "Well, that's good then. I'm glad. But," he added after a pause, "not surprised. I am great company, after all. When you're paying attention to me, that is." His eyes sparkled.

Heero found himself wanting to add more to that statement; he wanted to confirm and emphasize to himself how much Duo's company was comfortable -- made him happy -- but he stopped the thought before it got anywhere. Instead, he tried to hide his sudden vulnerability when he asked back, "Do you? Have what you want?"

"Sure. Got most of it, anyway." Duo turned his head and looked at Heero.

It was natural and unchallenging, but Heero had to look away.

"Of course, there's lots more I wanna do and learn. Look at old racecars, find some people in that field. Find more dessert places. Rollerblade. Chisel ice sculptures, even. Instead, I just sit around the TV at home and at your place. I should probably do more with my time. Like, Darren certainly knows how to spend time effectively. Works out, goes for movies, grabs a beer here and there, great pool player. Sings. Reads. Even listens to audio books when there's nothing on the radio. No wonder he enjoys doing deliveries. I'd be bored stiff, driving around alone all day. Darren would be some interesting company. Hey, did you know Darren's learning watercolour? It'd be so cool to be able to paint."

Heero tried to ignore the implication about his company. Was there an implication? He made a small noise and Duo continued.

"He told me to go with him for a lesson one day. I said his teacher probably wouldn't like that, but he kept saying it'd be fine. Says it's kind of weird starting out, but it's fun. Maybe I'll take him up on his offer one day. What do you think?"

"I say let's stop talking about Darren. He's...annoying to hear about. Like he's perfect or something."

"You just hate him cuz he's happy," Duo joked.

Heero really had nothing to say to that.

It doesn't take Heero long to become familiar with the instrument. One could say he is almost prolific with it. He always had a way with machines, with instruments, though none quite this simple. Its complexity lies with its ease, he knows. However, it, too, requires practice and precision to master.

It should not be surprising, but it still is, the way he has an instant rapport with the guitar after the first few, stumbling tries. It settles in his hands and mind in a distinctly earthy, organic way. He strums a few chord progressions, the ones in the guide he had been following, then plucks the strings in various sequences, by way of warming up. It has already become out of tune from when he picked it up last just two days ago, courtesy of the ever changing temperatures and pressures of his abode. His ears already better at picking up beats and nodes, he tunes away from the computer. A twist and another strum later, he is satisfied.

Janice -- 'sweetmachines' -- had sent him a few links to some simple guitar tabs. He had glanced at all five of them, but one song title had made an impression easily. He loads the page now and recognizes by the lyrics that it is a song Duo played frequently in his car. The song is no challenge, as the site and Janice had promised, and though it's far cry from the real thing he knows the tab to be true to the song. A few runs later and he can almost play and hum the entire thing without stopping. He decides to take a break and look at the other four pieces Janice recommended.

Duo had been right, of course. He had always wanted to learn. And he really is enjoying it, and enjoying himself. Loving it.

Afterwards, Heero sits with his legs up on the couch and removes the bookmark between pages 82-83, continuing with his daily reading besides the assignments from the forum. A narrative, unrhyming, spans the spread. Two girls who started as friends and grew apart, one forgiving but the other accusing. Heero understands the words, but does not dwell on the emotions and moves on.

A sonnet this time, by a famous playwright. It is much harder to read than the narrative, but still Heero trudges along, and though he does not understand the meaning word for word, by the end he is left with a general feeling for the whole. It resonates in him, the theme, the context.

Minutes later, Heero realizes he still has not moved on to the next page, still mulling over the sonnet. He thinks of Duo and wonders more than usual what he's been up to, how he is. Lets some of his more deep-seated feelings wash over him as he wonders. He makes a note to speak with Relena again soon; he has not done so yet in the past two weeks. He reads the second quartet again and Darren pops into his mind. The grin and the eyes and the way he hovered over Duo. When he reads the last sextet once more, his mind is off, clouded. The accusation floats into his mind, and he is faintly aware that though he's been here a while, he still has not let anything go. But he is not ready to examine it, so he closes the book, gets off the couch and puts the book away.

That night, as he lies in bed, lines of iambic pentameter fly in his head on the wingtips of origami birds. It takes a while, but finally he falls asleep, blanket clutched in one hand, once more thinking of Duo and Darren.

He couldn't explain it, why he felt this way, but he did. It was not a good thing, he knew, but he couldn't help it. When Relena called him, upset and wanting to vent, he had been sitting at home lamely flipping through channels. Yet again. In fact, TV was so dull that he had stopped on a clergyman talking about sloth, or something. He had already gone over gluttony and lust. Gluttony was boring, and lust was obvious. Sloth was pretty obvious too. He hadn't been learning anything new.

He drove with his earpiece and mic in place, consoling the girl about whatever had gone wrong that evening at her quarter-annual colony integration meeting. Something about pricks and stuck-up, selfish asses with no idea how long something or other takes. And how she had to cancel her date because the meeting went into overtime. And as she ranted he couldn't help having this weird feeling.

His mind drifted back to the TV after he hung up on Relena, promising he would be there in less than two minutes. He really needed to find something better to watch on nights he wasn't with Duo. That clergyman was the most interesting thing on, which really didn't say much. Or it said a lot.

Sure, he was upset on her behalf. But things had been going so well with all her other rendezvous up to this point -- meetings, dates, new recipes, heck even the lottery -- something was bound to go wrong. Right? At least that's what he thought. That's not to say he wanted Relena to fail. What kind of a terrible friend would he be if that were true? It was just that her winning streak was kind of aggravating. Hearing about this one failure, though, he had to admit he was feeling vaguely...pleased. Not unhappy with the outcome.

What were the other sins again? Greed, pride, wrath...

Heero cut the ignition. He arrived at Relena's.

Sometimes he feels resentful of Janice. Her whole demeanor is happy, or at least what one can garner through just forum posts and IM chats. But there's obviously a satisfaction there, and not discontentment. Either that or she can hide it really well.

He never could. He still can't, and he knows it. It's half the reason he's still here, alone. But only half.

But it's hard to really be resentful of someone online. And he knows the problem isn't hers -- it's his. Still, he can feel it build up and flare, the resentment, and when that happens, he stops responding and goes back to programming. Systems checking. Anything to ignore the nagging voice at the back of his mind.

And adds avoidance to another one of his problems.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me."

"Duo! What's up?"

"Um, nothing really. Just wondering if you're free for a quick coffee or something? Short notice, sorry."

"Can't. Apartment meeting in an hour."

"Oh, okay."

"It'll be ten-thirty or later by the time it's over. A little late for us to meet on a weeknight."

"Yeah... Yeah, I know."

Heero frowned at the tone of Duo's voice. Definitely down about something. "Do you want me to skip it?"

"No, no, don't do that. Please. Hearing your voice is fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Seriously. Just...keep talking?"

"About what?"

"Anything. Anything's good."

"Duo, what happened? What's wrong?"

"Just an argument. It's fine, it's resolved. I just... wanted to hear your voice all of a sudden."

"Oh." He got those feelings too, sometimes, though he never acted on them. Did Duo get them too? Something inside him fluttered. They probably weren't of the same nature as his, though. "Well, uh..."

A light laugh sounded from the other end, and Heero could see in his mind the little smile that always accompanied it. "Tell me what you ate today. And what you're having tomorrow."

"That's boring. And you saw my fridge this weekend."

"I don't care. Try me. And in detail. Please."

Heero looked at his clock. Another fifty minutes before the meeting. Should be enough time to get Duo to joke and tease again. His story will be so boring and his tone so flat that Duo would soon be adding his own comments and quips to spice it up. Duo always got a strange kick out of that. He smiled at the thought. Settling on his couch and lying comfortably on his side with a pillow in one arm, he started on the colour of the toast he had for breakfast.

Part 2

"Good night, Heero. Please do try and take some time out for...thinking. Analyzing. I'm sure if you tried, it wouldn't take you long."

"Perhaps. Good night, Relena."

Swiftly, he cuts the connection; she always just waits indefinitely with a small smile anyhow. He knows better than to make even a vague commitment to her request -- he's not going to do it. She used to offer to listen to his problems, but has since learned better. Heero never once took her up on that. Now, she always urges him to "analyze" himself, but he always puts it off. It's so easy to put off doing something you don't want to do. Especially when you've already figured out half of it.

It becomes increasingly harder to talk to Relena with each vid-call. He knows she's doing well, in avenues besides just her work. In fact, the good news just doesn't stop coming. He knows he should be happy for her, and part of him is, but still... She deserves it, of course, but does it have to seem so easy? Each time, it irks him so. He thought he was over this already. Okay, maybe that's a lie.

When he can't stomach it anymore, he changes topics. To a worse topic. Her political life is classified, and his life hasn't changed, so they move on to the rest of the gang, who are always "fine" and "doing well". And that inevitably leads to how Duo is still wondering why he's away for so long, and Relena's "why are you still alone in the cabin away from everyone anyway? Still haven't thought about your life yet, Heero?"

Same ol', same ol'. Chatter, chatter.

This time, she had asked if he is happy.

He isn't. He may be more content now, with the book forum and the pier and the guitar, but he isn't happy. Not yet. "I'm fine," he had said to her. "It's peaceful here."

It is. Just a different kind of peace. One that isn't laden with other people's happiness. One that doesn't require telling others what he wants. He can just do it, take it. Just go for it. No need to ask. No need to vocalize. No one to stop him; he can if he wants to. It's not complicated when there are no other people around. So yes, he has his contentment. It's just not the same as fulfillment.

"You enjoying life? Got everything you need?"

"I'm happy right now."

Sparkle. "I am great company, after all."

Fantastic, mesmerizing company. He really was.

He didn't mean to snap at Quatre, and he really didn't want to walk out like that, but he wasn't sure what came over him, and he wasn't sure what to do about it. He'd forgotten how absolutely positive Quatre could be, and how it consumes him as he talks. The way that makes cheerful people giddy, but makes disgruntled people depressed. Well, it was his fault for forgetting Quatre's energy. But he didn't really expect to feel neglected around Trowa.

Quatre was so optimistic, but Heero knew things don't always happen that way. No fairytale endings every night, and sparkling pictures, and brilliant melodies. He knew he was exaggerating -- Quatre clearly didn't see things that way -- but he couldn't help it. You don't always get what you want.

He slowed his pace down the sidewalk and ran a hand through his hair. Quatre had realized he was upsetting Heero. He had a good sense of people. But by that time it was already too much. Every little damn thing these days was too much. Even smiling people in magazines sometimes. He knew if he had stayed, he would've been fighting a losing battle. But what was worse was that he knew the argument wouldn't change anything. It would just make him more miserable.

Ahead, a group of kids ran toward a happy jingle. An ice cream truck pulled up to the curb across the street, plastic cone spinning, red and blue colours swirling. The kids lined up, giggling, all merry and excited. They were so easy to please.

His throat was dry from all the internal venting, so he grabbed the right change from his pocket. But he couldn't cross the road. Couldn't get his legs to move. He just kept staring. Would ice cream make him happier? It was such a stupid question.

'Good going, Yuy. Can't even work up the nerve to get an ice cream cone.'

He turned around, away from the truck, and headed back to his car. His mood wasn't good for driving, but he didn't want to walk it out. Too much time to think about too obvious things. A fallen bird lay on the curb as he walked by.

"It took a while, but we're together. And it's just been...wonderful." And then Quatre had reached across the table to him. "So, when's it your turn, Heero?" Heero had tightened his fist around his crumpled napkin and looked away from Quatre's crisp, perfect one.

Never. It would never be his turn.

Lines of a song float into his head one night and do not leave him alone. The next morning, his mind adds words to the melody and after work he looks up the song with a sort of enthusiastic energy. He should have known it was another something he got from Duo -- the lines he remembers are about a satellite and friends that split each other's lips. Now, he looks for tabs on the net. Finding them instantly, he settles in his seat and begins.

The melody doesn't come easily, and he's hard-pressed to recognize the song beyond the two lines he already knew. He also has to give up on the C9 and plays just a C, skewing the song a little more. The song only reluctantly translates into the acoustic, a very far cry from the original. No one who hears what Heero is playing would be able to recognize it, but his eagerness pulls him through and it's enough for him finally after playing through the tab three times.

Once he gets it together he practices the C9 while reading the lyrics. It takes him a while because his fingers keep slipping off the strings. He doubles back on the words several times both because of the guitar chord and because he doesn't quite understand them. After he plays the song once more, with the chord intact, he reads the lyrics through again, a frown surfacing and deepening with each verse. The words may be confusing, but one thing is obvious enough. The song just makes him think of Duo.

It upsets him because he knows he never worked up the nerve to talk to Duo, perhaps never will. And the suggestions in the song are just ridiculous. Definitely fantastical. Like glue would ever work. Who would make such a fool of oneself? Evidently there's an irony he doesn't quite get in the lyrics. It is just like Duo to get him into a song he doesn't completely understand but will annoy him anyway. Never mind that it wasn't done intentionally.

The solution is so obviously simple. Clearly, all the composer has to do is say what he wants.

Clearly, it's all he would have to do too.

He closes the webpage without bothering to bookmark it and sets his guitar aside. Suddenly he's in a foul mood, all enthusiasm gone. Stupid song.

When he mentions it to Janice some time later, she spends half the conversation in mirth and the other half teasing. How cute that there was someone he was having trouble with. At the end, she asks why he left, and he replies that he has a...problem to deal with. She tells him that's silly and tells him the same conclusion he reached before, that he should screw everything else and just say what he wants. Go for it. Yeah, easier said than done. What is "it", anyway?

"So why am I here, again?"

"Cuz. I promised Cheryl I'd come with her if I was free, and I'm free, so yeah."

"Okay, but that doesn't explain why I'm here."

"Well she has a date."

"And?" The music pulsed harder as they walked further into the room.

"And I didn't want to be alone. Do you know how terribly unfun it is to be at a club alone if you're not trying to pick someone up?"

Heero looked at Duo blankly. "No, I don't."

"It was a rhetorical question." A pause. "But you answered on purpose. Ass."

Heero shrugged guiltily as a purple strobe light streaked off Duo's bare shoulder and over his own deep green chest. Duo scanned the barely lit interior from left to right and back again before his face brightened. Gesturing for Heero to follow, Duo headed to a round table halfway between the bar and the dance floor where a pretty little blonde sat, waving rapidly at them. Well, at Duo. She hadn't met Heero yet.

The introductions were quick and simple. He liked Cheryl -- she was like Duo: friendly, outgoing, and intelligent. And she seemed to accept that Heero was just a quiet person. They ordered a round of drinks while they waited for their fourth to arrive. They talked about the previous night's weather, Duo and Cheryl complained about work at the yard, and Heero was asked about his job and his hobbies. It was usual, and expected, and relaxing.

Cheryl's date arrived during their second round of drinks. Again, they exchanged names. No one person knew everyone at the table, and dimly the thought that it was like a double date flashed through Heero's mind. It quickened the pace of his breathing.

A few short anecdotes later, and Heero felt at ease again. They played quarters with their first glasses -- losers drink. Duo and Heero were just too good, so the other two started tilting the glasses and sliding them back and forth, like an arcade game for prizes. They had a couple of good laughs at some near misses, and even more laughs at the way off shots. The stakes were raised for the final round -- losers pay for drinks. Cheryl beat her date quickly and he ran for the washrooms, but, competitive as ever, neither Heero nor Duo let up that easily. In the end, Cheryl had them shoot together to save time, and by some stroke of luck, Heero's quarter bounced off Duo's and out, and the clink of Duo's quarter into the glass was accompany by a resounding cheer and high five. Drat. Oh well, just a silly game, right?

"Thanks for picking up my tab, buddy. Maybe I should really chug it down tonight."

Heero scoffed. "It'll take a lot more alcohol than you could drink to make me broke."

"I dunno, Duo," Cheryl jumped in. "I think that's a challenge."

"Oh, I'd rather him spend money on me in other ways." Duo winked. The joke carried no weight, but Heero flushed anyway.

"Say Duo, wanna dance?" Cheryl tilted her head to the red-green-purple-yellow dance floor. "I know you're itching for it."

Duo considered it, but shook his head. "Nah, maybe a little later. I wouldn't take your first dance of the night. You have a date, remember? I'll just have to wait it out." Was that a glance of longing cast his way? Heero doubted it, but he took note of the fingers drumming on the tabletop and the little pout across Duo's face before he perked up and grinned. "Ah, and the devil cometh as beckoned."

He watched as Cheryl's date proffered his hand out to her in a low bow, a silly gesture considering they were in a club. But it was definitely effective -- Cheryl readily delivered her own hand with a giggle, and as she hopped off her high stool, they broke into an immediate faux salsa, breaking forward and rocking back alternatively. Her date made googly eyes and exaggerated winks at her, drawing crisp, delighted laughs from the girl.

Could he do that? Look that ridiculous to make someone laugh? Would anyone do that for him?

Heero immediately, reflexively, glanced to his companion who sat watching the crowd, bopping his head and jostling his shoulders to the beat. He could feel the tap-tap-tapping of Duo's feet against the leg of the tall table. Even his butt shuffled over the seat. Chair dancing, Duo had called it. It looked silly to Heero, but he was sure Duo didn't care. In fact, Duo didn't care about doing lots of crazy, outlandish things. Including lots of things that made him smile, laugh even. Fantastic things. The wig he grabbed off the mannequin in the mall and the fake accent, the juggling act in his apartment, the body art... Heero could never imagine himself doing any of those bizarre things.

But he could hold his hand out, right? Waggle an eyebrow, the way Duo does? That shouldn't look too foolish, comparatively. It wasn't like Duo would agree to dance with him. It would just be a joke, to make him smile. Or maybe it would be nice to dance with Duo. Maybe. He tried not to go any further on that train of thought.

He turned to find Duo watching him, waiting, expression somewhere between expectant and amused. His eyes twinkled, as if knowing his thoughts and daring him to continue. Suddenly his right hand went clammy and jittery. And his left was no help either, numb under his thigh. His heart raced. How were people able to so easily let go of their inhibitions? It could be the alcohol. But he knew that wasn't the entire answer. People knew how to do things he couldn't. It was like a secret power they had. Or a secret kept only from him. That was not a pleasant thought.

Another unbridled laugh from Cheryl drew his attention. Her date had started tap dancing and singing a parody of the current song. It was attracting a small crowd, but he kept at it, adding fancy spins and pulling her in. They certainly were happy. Even an idiot could see that. Show offs. Were they trying to show him up or something?

A nudge to his side brought him back to his earlier predicament. 'Ask, you stupid fool. Clearly, he's already expecting it; you'll look stupider if you do nothing.' Duo had cornered him without actively doing a single thing. Damn. He couldn't admit to himself how much he wanted to do this, and not just for the amusement value. Why exactly would it be worth it to make a fool of himself again? To hear Duo laugh... it was important to him somehow. And the slim chance at a dance. Not that he knew how to dance. Not that he wanted to dance. With Duo.

As he lifted his hand off the table, a deep voice came between them. "I hope I'm not being presumptuous in asking if you'd like to dance?" It was clearly not directed at him.

Duo smiled politely but glanced once more back at Heero. It was as if he were giving Heero a chance to say something, but Heero's mind had stopped thinking. He went from muddled but willing to instantly angry, his mood dropping swiftly like the quarters in his glass. He watched as Duo joined Tall-and-confident in leaving Heero to his confused irritation, glaring at the crisp crimson shirt on Tall's back. Just like that and Duo was gone.

How long had it taken for Tall to decide he wanted Duo? Clearly a lot less time than it took Heero to get over being a wuss. But that guy could probably have picked up ten people before Heero would've said a word to Duo. That was so pathetic. Was he referring to himself or Tall? Of course not himself. Who goes around dancing with a billion different strangers in one night? What was he trying to prove? Does it really make him... happy?

He couldn't stand it. But he couldn't take his eyes off either. Like a car crash, only beautiful. Intense. Gripping. The yelling and laughing around him all faded through some strange space warp, as if everyone was suddenly many, many meters away and only the music and the beat and the twisting, flowing Duo Maxwell was in front of him. Nothing professional, nothing award winning; just a simple, modest dance style. A personal preference. The picture filled his mind. Heero could almost forget the ugly attachment at his side. All he had to do was take one hand and rip the image in two, keep the one with the gorgeous, slinking braid. Shred the other half...

Heero briefly wondered why it wasn't him up out there. Why was there something Tall-and-handsome could do that he couldn't? He didn't want to think about this guy. He was repulsive.

Now he understood what Duo meant about being alone at a club. Unfun. That was the word. Especially when everyone else around was having such a blast.

He had read somewhere that right before a storm is a great time to fish. Also right after, depending on which fish one is after, and if one is using live bait. He doesn't particularly care. He has no need for an overabundance of fish anyway. He just wants to breathe in the cloudy greys around him.

The water is barely moving as he puts his gear into the canoe. There's a motor boat to the side but it doesn't suit him, not usually and especially not today. Climbing in, the canoe wobbles, rippling the water. But the ripples have no energy, weakly travelling a scant few inches before dying, sinking back to unknown depths. The water is much darker than the sky, a deep steel blue with more steel than blue. It's like his life is suddenly devoid of all colour. Even the cabin looks dull in the stormy sky. No matter; he didn't come out here for sunshine or rainbows. He is out to fish. Or topretend to fish. Or something.

With a few flicks of his wrist, Heero uncoils the rope tying the boat to the pier and drops it into the canoe. He rows slowly and steadily for a good couple hundred meters then stops paddling. Then he just stops and sits, looking emotionlessly at his fishing gear. For show, he picks up the rod and checks the line before flipping his metal box open to select a lure. He had not bothered to bring any live bait with him, so he picks up a small, yellow-green-black one and slips it on the metal hook. The neon spiral with a floppy, flat tail stares back at him. When he lets it go, it swings in small circles. It almost looks like it's suspended in mid-air, the fishing line barely visible. Heero runs a hand along the black fishing rod from which the lure and line hang. Carbon fibre. Right up his alley. Not necessary for what is around -- he doesn't expect there to be anything big -- but then none of this fishing gear is really necessary for this trip either. Just a pretense.

'Look out, fishies, I'm here.' Yeah right.

He casts. The line whizzes, lure plopping into the water. Again the lazy ripples form, briefly. A hint of wind teases the scenery, nudges the bangs in his face. Heero holds the rod in his hands, uncommitted. Staring out, his eyes become unfocused. There is nothing to focus on. The sky is a strange grey none would call natural but that only nature would produce, almost a mauve if one squints and tilts into another dimension. It's interesting, but Heero doesn't care. Not today. Today, he just cares that it's grey. He came out to surround himself in grey. So he sits, rod in hands, hunched with elbows on his knees, letting everything and nothing permeate into him.

Lines come unbidden to him, like excerpts. Flooding him. As if to a poet in a dream. Too many words, too many allusions to things past. He doesn't bother to sort them out. Just lets them wash over him. Osmosis, in and out. Hides the gems somewhere for later -- he can't tell you where, he doesn't know -- and lets the rest jumble. It's all passive, unconscious, but he's aware of it. Lucid.

Some lines are from books. Some are just noises. It's a dream within a dream. Most are things people have said. Mundane things. Gossip. News. Mission details. IM chats. Something pulls on his fishing rod but he doesn't notice. There's nothing but grey and water all around but even if there were, he wouldn't see any of it. He stares out, eyes unfocused. There aren't even swirls of anything in the sky. It's all one big mat of cloud, of grey matter, maybe moving slowly or quickly or not at all, impossible to tell.

He remembers laughter. He hasn't heard real laughter in quite a while. The kind that comes from living people, not in a box, not on a screen. Not digitally warped. He himself is not much of a laugher -- more of shrugger, or a glarer. A complainer. Laughing was really everyone else's job. Maybe he really has been away from civilization for too long. Is that really how it sounds? Heaving and chiming and unhidden? What if he has it all wrong? For a second he can't remember how long it's been since he arrived, since he saw another face, since he ran away. For a second he panics. 'Do I even exist?'

I think, therefore I am; someone once said. A philosopher. Heero is not a philosopher. But philosophy is supposed to apply to everyone, right? Was it "I think" or "I doubt"? Or both?

His reading forum would know; Janice would chide him for mixing it up. How did he get to this topic anyway? Duo would just laugh.

Duo...

The waters still beneath his boat. It's coming, thick in the air, the storm. Heero knows the telltale calm after all his time here, even if he can't remember how long it's been. Everything is stagnant. He feels stagnant too. It feels so heavy in his chest. He didn't come out to think, he really didn't. But here he is, anyway. Murphy's Law, really. He just wanted to be grey. He had just told Relena outright that he may never do it, too, never do that stupid analyzing. Will thinking and reflecting get the air flowing again? What a study in irony his predicament would make.

He wants to tell himself he doesn't really miss laughter. He had always scorned happy people anyway. But he really does want to hear Duo laugh again. More than he cares to admit. It scares him that he may be forgetting the sound and grace of this one Duo Maxwell.

"We totally gotta get laid, man."

Okay, so it wasn't always about the grace. But Duo had this way with things that made it all okay. No, not had. Has. Yes, Duo has a way of seeing exactly what he himself couldn't see, or didn't want to see, and a way of telling him that differed from all the books and the poetry and the lyrics he had ever read. Has. He'll see Duo again. One day.

"You really think you'll be happy when everyone else is miserable, don't you."

'I don't know how else to do it. How else to be on par with everyone else. I'm sorry.'

"What about me, Heero? Does that include me?"

Did it? Of course not. But he hadn't been able to live with Quatre's happiness. Nor Trowa's. That was what Duo saw. That was why Heero had doubted. That was why he had left.

He can't stop the flood of regret from overtaking him. He shouldn't have left. He should have talked to Duo. He should have left a note. He's throwing too much away, too big a gamble. He's not going to resolve his problem -- he can't even acknowledge it. Is he stuck here forever? Oh god. He really doesn't want to be grey forever. Not this indescribable, mauvy grey. Will it overtake his life, all his memories? Is he destined to be miserable forever?

On impulse, he grabs the pencil and notepad from his box of gear and starts to scribble. Anything. Everything. Sentences spill into one another, no start and no end. He writes at angles, blindly. Words overlap, graphite on graphite on lead on paper. Grey on grey. The fishing rod slides from between his knees to the floor of the canoe, ignored. It was amazing, incredible, the speed of his thoughts, the energy, the brain waves, grey and white matter. He can't tell if he was making stuff up or plagiarizing. He doesn't care. The page becomes saturated with it. Disjunctive, but connected through tangents. A jumble. Word search. Scrabble. But he can't stop. It's imperative he doesn't. His arm tries to cramp up, but he won't let it. Nothing save death could stop this.

The first crack of thunder draws him from the page in his hand, the lightning having gone completely unnoticed. Suddenly he notices the outburst of wind trying to tear the book from him. He is tempted to let it go stolen, forget it all, but a stronger fear grips him and makes him hold on tighter. "No!" he yells. "No! It's mine! You can't take it from me!" His salvation, though he doesn't know how. A ridiculous fight to watch, the struggle clear on his face against an invisible force to match. Heero is determined. But nature wins out, ripping the page from the notebook, and the paper slips from his hands, floating to the bottom of the canoe. In a panic, Heero traps it under his sandal. The fishing rod flies out of the water with the force of his pull, hook bare of the lure lost some time ago, and he grabs the paddles. He rows at a frantic pace, uneven like his breathing, scrambled like his mind.

When he reaches shore he docks quickly at the first post and leaps out of the boat, almost breaking out into a run with his feet still in the air. The atmosphere sizzles around him, and he shakes it off, fighting the net, not wanting to be captured. He doesn't even realize he left his prize back in the boat for the storm. But he scrambles, each foot rushing ahead of the other. So close to being free, only to be interrupted just as suddenly as the newfound desire to let go had come. Damn it all.

He finally realizes his crazed state of mind when he reaches the steps of his cabin. It leaves him quickly, the energy, the drive, and he feels the retreat back to his passive self. He feels depleted, though at the back of his mind also somewhat intrigued. Turning to face the waters once again, he stands just outside the cover of the roofing across the back porch. The first drop of rain is fat and cold, landing on his foot, rooting him to the spot. Maybe he should go inside. Tree branches war as waves start to tumble and thunder rolls.

It looks to be quite a storm. Heero does not move.

"For my birthday, I want you to get me nothing, okay?"

"Nothing?"

"Yeah. Just be free that evening."

"That was already on the game plan. Besides, I'm free either way. How is that a present?"

Duo waved a hand around. "Just a technicality. It's fine."

"You are one strange person. Don't you want to hang out with less boring people?"

"Eh, I'll be with loud, obnoxious people the Saturday before. And then with Tro' and Quat' and 'Fei on Sunday. It's all good."

"So...you want peace and quiet on your birthday?"

"No, silly, I just wanna spend time with you. If I don't get anything, it'll be like you're giving me you." Duo grinned ferally.

Heero blushed, and Duo laughed. "I will not be your slave."

At that, Duo cracked up before regaining his composure. "Alas, you caught me and my evil, evil intentions. Please make my sentence light. I swear I have learned my lesson." Heero shook his head at Duo's ridiculousness, and let him continue. "In all seriousness, though, I just want to hang. Soak in the Heero-Yuy-ness. It'll be the truest present I can get."

"Okay," Heero replied, touched and amused. "Can I have you for my birthday, then? I promise to give you all of me for yours."

It was Duo's turn to blush at that. Then Heero did too, when he realized what he said.

This morning he had sat up in bed before the dawning sun, not quite with a start, but tense. Uneasy.

He had sat there a while -- back straight, muscles tight, expression vacant -- before the cold and chill from the storm the night before caught up to him again and his body shivered. He is slightly feverish but still, he had felt cold without his thin blanket covering his bare torso. He has been shivering all day since.

All day, he has been on edge. The wind is not welcome, and the sun scorns him for it. His mind can't focus. He touches the kettle while it is hot, adds sugar instead of salt to his beef, makes mistakes in his programming -- and still misses some after reviewing three times. Books work against him, the words all jumbled and tangled in strings he doesn't have the patience to untie. Now, he sits down to his laptop again, only to stare blankly at the desktop, unsure what he wanted to do in the first place.

He doesn't know how much longer he can put it off. It's so taxing to do so. But is he really ready? Too late to ponder that now. His mind is already filled with other thoughts that won't let anything else in.

Heero leaves the glow of the cabin to stand before the loom of the setting sun. The colours are back, not the same lacklustre shades of yesterday. But Heero cannot appreciate them, like a punishment to himself. He can't do anything until he resolves this thing. Leaves rustle and a moth weaves through the short undergrowth. The rocks on the shore are half painted by water. Heero sits on the end of the pier and threads both hands in his hair to cup behind his head and he leans back slightly, elbows out. Everything about the scenery is perfect but him.

He is alone. And unhappy.

And alone.

Why? Because he left. He was unhappy. But why is he unhappy now? Because he's alone. Why does he care all of a sudden?

He knows what this is. He had his calm yesterday. Now it's time for the storm. It's been a long time coming. He realizes he has opened the floodgates and nothing will close them in time. He pictures himself trying, forcing two huge dynasty doors against the war outside but he is only one person and he has not the strength he once had. And too late he realizes the water is already in and the soldiers were there all along and he is dressed in enemy colours; he is the outcast by his own doing.

Funny that he thinks of floodgates. He lives by a huge body of water. Any idiot should know never to kick a dam if he hasn't planned an escape. That's like just asking to drown. But he did anyway. Oh look, he's an idiot -- and he's unhappy. Well what a fine load of crap that was. Isn't the bargain supposed to be one or the other? Not both? What a gyp. He knew it was s scam. He probably lost half his life too, without knowing it. God-bloody-damn it.

Even the birds can't take the melodrama, and he watches them fly away from him and his probably infectious displeasure to a land far, far away. He wants to go with them. That's where fairy tales happen, right? Where everything is simple, simple and magical and no one has to try and things end sickeningly, overloadingly sweetly, but at least they're happy. At least someone will be there for you when you overdose. None of that here.

'Why can't I have your wings?'

He shivers again, the temperature dropping with the evening. The canoe rocks on the waters and knock-knock-knocks against the post it's tied to. Heero throws a glance that way and notices the slip of paper sticking out from under the seat of the boat. Reaching over, he picks up the paper. It's from last night, he recognizes, and he reads it, squinting in the dimming light. Then he laughs. It's not funny, but he laughs. Laughs and laughs, this choking, horrible, angry laughter as he stares at the page, no longer reading the page but not needing to. Laughs until it turn into shouts, into profanities. And oh, how profound these profanities be.

Not only is he miserable, but he is a sinner. A sinner, because he hates because he wants -- but he can't have, doesn't have, because he is a stupid fucking idiot who can't grasp his own fucking life and shake and punch even just a small ounce of sense into it. He should have just taken, taken and become a criminal, 'cause damn, it would be so much better than giving in to a sin, so much better than this. It's his own fault he's not happy -- everyone else is, everyone else knows how to be happy, because well it's just that easy, really, but it isn't easy for him and he hates them for it. How dare they?! He hates them. Hates and hates and hates them, their smiles and their eyes and their dreams and their boldness and their, their...just...why, bloody god, why? Why does he have no fucking nerve? How did he let himself get away with being such a lousy goddamned fool for so, so long with everything except what he wanted? And how could he leave the one thing that made him truly happy behind? This was his solution? Self-sabotage, whoo hoo! Fuck.

He's so depressed he could die.

There is no storm this night, though he wishes there were. Not even a hint of nimbus at all. He could really use the pathetic fallacy. Right now he's just pathetic. And wallowing in fallacy. Is there irony in this? It isn't funny.

Damn and shit in hell.

Darren was wrong, of course. Heero is not jealous. That would imply he had something to lose that was his to begin with. He had nothing in that category. He's not jealous. He's a fucking envious bastard.

You just hate him cuz he's happy.

'And because he has a chance with you.'

...Freaking...

He looks down at his hands and sees a paper crane. It looks like Duo was right; he does fold birds to keep himself company. Yep, definitely pathetic. Like he really needed any more reminders that he is alone. Damn, what he would give to tell this sad, pitiful story to Duo. He could make it extra, extra boring, too. He really wants to hear one of Duo's snappy quips. Plenty of room for laughs in this tale. Shaking his head, he stares at the final reds of the retreat sun. It looks like the heart of an explosion in ultra slow motion. It looks like the start of something big. Really, it's just a prelude to a dark night. And just like that, the rays are gone. He shivers again.

God, he wants Duo so badly.

It's over. He's done. Tomorrow, he'll pack and make his journey back to...well, he hesitates to call it home, but it's where his job is and where his friends are, so it's as good a home as any, he guesses. Besides, Duo is there. And it's Duo he knows he needs to get to, so that's that.

He also knows that Duo is probably happy as he is, with Darren or whoever else, and if that's the case then he needs to accept that and that's something he needs to learn too. If so, he'll have to plead his case and hopefully Duo will still help him be less of a pansy with his life. It's an alternative. But one that would fucking suck.

"You're jealous."

"What?" Heero spun around in his chair to meet his guest. He had left the door unlocked, expecting Duo, and when the stranger knocked twice without trying the door, he thought it might be a neighbour. But he wasn't expecting this.

"I finally figured it out, why you don't like me. All the glares, the stiff shoulders. I'm everything you want to be. I've got things figured out, sailing on clear waters. Oh, but you can probably handle all that, even if it irks you. But more than that, I'm competition for Duo, and you know it. But I was a fool, and I didn't know it til now."

"Know what?"

"I was stupid. I didn't think I had to fight anyone, but I do. You. But..." A smirk appeared in a flash as he tilted his head, satisfied. "...it seems that I really don't have to, because I'm winning, anyhow. And that is why you're jealous."

Heero leapt off his seat, stalking forward past the couch and steel lamp, instantly furious. Something in him flared at those words. "You better start making some sense or get out, or there will be hell to pay, Darren."

Darren took a few brave steps forward, matter-of-factly. "You think you're good for Duo, huh? You're not."

"What the fuck are you getting at? What do you want with Duo?"

"No, the question is what do you want with Duo? Whatever it is, I don't think you're gonna get it. Not with the way things have been going lately."

Heero's eyes narrowed at these words, outraged and suspicious.

"That's right. Duo's been telling me all about your stupid problems, and all the little fights you've been having." Darren looked so smug, Heero was about to pummel him -- as if he needed any more incentive to. "All that attitude. Tsk. Who do you think you are?"

"I'm --"

"Just a sad little friend who's causing him trouble. You think you're helping him? Protecting him? No." Darren stepped into Heero's personal space, inches from his body. "You're such a hot-head. You're just making it easier for him to hate you."

Duo was confiding in Darren about Heero's behaviour? Apparently so. Duo had wanted him and Darren to get along. Was adamant about it, in fact. If push came to shove, would Duo really choose Darren over him? He really had no idea how close they have gotten, which was strange, but he knew Duo had tons of fun with him. Heero was so confused about Duo. But infuriated about Darren.

"If you do anything to Duo --"

"See? Violence and threats. Rage. Admit it, Heero -- you're jealous. Full of it. Because Duo likes me better. And it's eating you alive. Because you want him too."

He couldn't say anything to that; Darren's words resonated in him in a way that was startling. Scenes flashed in his mind, his attitude around Duo and his friends reinterpreted. His rage taking over every time, ruining his time with Duo. He saw the way Duo's face twisted when Heero glared at one friend, threatened another. The irritation when he tried to calm Heero down. How he never noticed before because he was always too busy with his outrage. He wanted Duo? He never thought about it that way. But Duo was apparently looking to another.

"You certainly are right to be jealous, but you don't have the right to be."

There was no way Duo could know what Heero wanted -- not even Heero knew. He wanted to be everyone and everything surrounding Duo, wanted to take Darren's place at work, wanted to be the cashier Duo joked with at the grocery store. Wanted, wanted, wanted. But Duo was not his. He had no right to be jealous. Was he jealous? He only half heard the rest of Darren's ranting.

"Green's the perfect colour for you.

"You don't know how to be happy. You're unsatisfied with life and want to drag Duo down with you.

"He can do so much better than you. You are so replaceable.

"You just wait and see. Duo's mine, and --"

Heero didn't wait for the end of that sentence before he threw his fist, socking Darren hard across the jaw. And it felt so good. Oh, so damn good. The contact. Darren's head falling. The fear in his eyes. He held Darren by the front of his shirt, all traces of civility gone.

"If you dare --"

"Heero, if you dare!"

A hand clamped down on his raised arm and threw it aside. Heero didn't even get a chance to open his mouth before Duo cried, "I don't want to hear it! I don't care!" He saw the disgust in Duo's eyes as they passed from him to Darren. With barely a second thought, Duo wrenched Darren's shirt from Heero's grip.

"I think, Heero, that you better deal with your anger problems, and all those other problems you have. This won't happen again." Duo looked like he wanted to say more, but didn't. He gave Heero a final look before turning away, leading Darren out the door.

Heero stared, but there was no one there. Only the white wall of the corridor. It greatly displeased him. Duo... He wanted to yell. He wanted to destroy something. Slamming the door, he stalked back into his apartment and thumped onto his couch, wrenching the pillow out from beneath him and tossing it angrily over the coffee table. It nicked a glass of water off the table.

The sparkle of shattering glass echoed through the room, and it was immensely satisfying.

"You're so serious. It's amusing."

"Gee, thanks, Duo. You're pretty amusing too."

"Great! I'll take it that means I can stay?"

"Sure. You'll still keep me around when my seriousness is no longer amusing, right?"

"Only if you keep me too."

Heero secures the canoe he so haphazardly tied down yesterday before retreating back to the porch, turning on one of two lamps. They look like old oil lanterns, but they are definitely electric. Just part of that quirky, quaint feeling that will no longer be around when he gets back to the city. He never noticed any of it when he came, but now he knows he'll miss it. Things are simple here. But unfortunately life isn't that simple.

There is no longer any light outside, but he knows where everything is and so the one lamp is ample for him. Though he doesn't know why, he figures he should move everything back to where they were before he came -- the patio table, the tool chest, the benches, the other lamp. It's not a lot of effort and it's not a lot to move, but he had already lost most of his energy to rage and revelations. The interior would have to wait for morning.

When he's done, he parks himself on the steps and looks up. Probably will not see the stars this gorgeous for a long while. Humanity ruins everything. But what could one do?

No more musing for the day; it is time for bed. Tomorrow will be a long day too. Heero gets up slowly, revelling in the small aches at his back -- he won't have ones that feel quite like these for a long while either. He retreats back to the light switch, turning off the lamp. One arm stretches out as he lets a yawn go, opening the door with the other and stepping inside.

There is light coming from the living area. And a duffle bag by the couch. With a Duo sleeping on it.

Heero blinks, and blinks again. No changes.

It's too late to think about this now. He flips the thin blanket on the back of the couch off onto Duo, turns off the light, and shuffles off to bed.

He gets up the next morning and takes two eggs out of the fridge. As the first one sizzles when albumen hits oil, he sees Duo stirring in the corner of his eye. Probably has a crick between his shoulder blades from sleeping without a pillow. Sure enough, when Duo sits up, his shoulders scrunch and one hand reaches back to rub at the area. Unsatisfied, he drops back down, only to hit the armrest with the back of his head.

"Ow..."

Heero shakes his head and smiles. When Duo finally makes his way over to his side, both eggs are done and the second is being scooped onto a plate. Duo perks up before frowning and going over to his duffle, rummaging for something. Heero wonders what. His question is answered when Duo calls to over his shoulder.

"Hey Heero, where's your washroom?"

"Right before the door to the back porch, left side. Right is storage."

"'K, thanks."

Heero debates between juice and milk and settles for water for them both. Duo comes back quickly, obviously feeling better, having brushed and washed up. The braid and bangs are still messy, but Duo's never cared around Heero before. Good to know some things stay the same.

"Nice place you got here."

"Thanks. Not exactly mine, though."

"Eh, a technicality. I wanna take a shower after food -- that okay?"

"Yeah, everything's there."

"Great."

There's clearly a lot to go over, but neither wants to start, so breakfast is spent basically in silence. But Heero takes comfort in the ease of the silence, how it dissipates and floats instead of chokes. When they finish, Duo starts to pick up the dishes, but Heero swats his hands away and shoos him off to take his shower. No need to be polite between friends. And they clearly are still good friends. Heero hopes they are still great friends, the kind they were before.

During the afternoon, Duo tells Heero about work and the weather and the upcoming civic holiday celebrations at City Hall, like Heero had never left and they aren't in the middle of nowhere, far away from malls and concert halls and office buildings. They hike into the forest for an hour in one direction, and another hour along the shoreline back toward the cabin, passing the pier and continuing onward. Duo picks up little rocks and pebbles Heero had never noticed the colours of before. They spend some time doubling back to the cabin and he leaves Duo sitting on a large rock at his request while he gets his daily reading done a few hours earlier than usual. Dinner is cooked and served and eaten in the same lighthearted, easygoing nature of the rest of the day.

They argue about who will sleep on the bed. Heero insists Duo takes it, and Duo insists Heero stay there, and neither will budge. Heero sighs, but at the same time he smiles. Duo really has not changed.

"I'm not gonna kick you out of your own bed, you dummy. I can't believe you think you're gonna win this one."

"You spent yesterday driving here, and then fell asleep awkwardly on my couch. We spent the entire day walking. I think your body is going to mutiny if you stay on the couch again tonight."

"Pshaw, we didn't walk that long. Four, five hours-"

"Less than three, actually. Clearly it felt like much longer to you. You, bed, tonight."

"Noooooo."

"Yes."

Duo shakes his head comically. "Noooo. You're treating me like a guest. Stop it. No host business. I sleep on your couch when I stay at your apartment, why is this any different?"

"I already told you. Your body is exhausted."

"Tell you what," Duo bargains. "I'll take the bed if you play me a song on the guitar."

"I never told you I play."

Duo shrugs. "I just assumed you would've learned, in all this time. You telling me you didn't?"

"I'm not playing you anything. And don't change the subject. You're sleeping on the bed."

"No."

"Yes."

"Noooo."

In the end, they both take to the floor.

Heero almost forgets that he had originally plan to leave this day, back to civilization, to face the music and the people he left with little or no explanation. Things seem so relaxed with Duo, it's like they're on a vacation. But Heero doesn't forget, because Duo is the person he had wanted to go back to the city for. He could talk to him now, before they fall asleep, but he doesn't. Now that Duo is here, it's like Heero has lost his nerve. Again. He sets it aside in favour of sleep and decides he should do something he hasn't done in all his time here before today: enjoy the setting with someone, instead of alone.

It continues for another two days -- spending time together, catching up, sharing stories. They still both sleep on the floor, touting the same reasons as before. They spend less time in each other's presence than the first day, Duo exploring things on his own and Heero still writing code and more code. Duo checks out the selection of books and Heero points to ones he's read and some he liked in particular, recommending a few things to Duo. In the evening, they sit and discuss some passages Duo picks, and Heero can tell Duo is surprised at Heero's love for literature. He expresses it, and Heero laughs. He had been surprised when he first started, too.

It's good to laugh.

"What about this? I haven't seen you touch it since I got here." Duo takes the guitar out of its case and puts the strap around his back, pulling his braid through. He slides his thumb slowly across each string, so they sound separately but linger into each other. "Not bad. Hmm, let's see..." Duo leans over the instrument, humming each string and counting along the lines drawn on the neck. Heero watches as his braid slides over his shoulder and thumps softly against the hollow base of the guitar. Finally, Duo finishes with the frets and plays a pretty solid E minor, then a much looser A minor. A few strings buzz. Duo tries again, squeezing his fingers on the strings, then moves on to D minor. Except it doesn't sound right.

"Index on the bottom string. And don't play the first two strings."

"Ha, I knew it. You do know how to play."

"Just a little."

"Uh huh. I got you to admit it. That's all that matters." Duo quickly slips the guitar strap over his head and passes it to Heero delightedly. "C'mon, play me something. You aren't getting away this time."

Heero grumbles, but accepts the instrument anyway. He stalls by tuning the strings, but it doesn't take much time, and he finds himself mentally running through his limited repertoire. He's forgotten some of the old stuff he played when he first started, but he picks a short tune in three-four, some nocturne simplified and transcribed as a beginner piece. He can tell Duo likes it, and, not wanting to lose the look in Duo's eyes, he continues into another song when that one finishes. And another after that.

"Hey, I know this song!" A laugh and a wink. "You've got great taste in music."

He knows Duo knows the song. He had run out of little tunes and the next few tabs that jumped into his mind had all been songs he got from Duo. He chuckles at the fake compliment and responds by continuing to play parts of a few other songs as they come.

The music undoes him, especially when combined with the slightly pained look on Duo's face. He could tell what Duo must be thinking about, with all this music. Well, they had played the game long enough; it was time to breach the subject.

"Duo... How did you find me? I mean, it's not like I covered my tracks or anything, but... Suddenly, you're here." His hands stilled. "I guess what I mean is, why?"

Duo leans back to lie on the couch, head cupped in his hands. "Why not? It's been long enough." Duo shifts a little, trying to get comfortable, and stares at the ceiling. "Would you believe I always knew you were out here? Yeah. When you disappeared, the first person I went to was Relena. You talked to her most often other than me. Keep playing." Duo gestures at the guitar with his chin and Heero continues. "She said yeah, she knew where you were, and that you were okay, and she asked me to let it go for now. And I did. Before the end of the week she told me where you were staying. Thought I deserved to know.

"And then I thought, if you're gonna skip town without telling me where you're going, you probably had good reason. I should respect that." Duo sighs. "I really missed you, ya know? I started to feel like I've been taking you completely for granted. But I figured, you know, Heero'll be back. I can stand to wait. You were getting so down with life, all sulky and unhappy and not having fun. So yeah, I thought it was probably good for you to get away. And I thought you knew that I... well... yeah, I thought you knew. But then I thought, maybe you didn't. It's not like I ever told you. Then I really wanted to find you, to talk to you and what not. To tell you..."

It is their first thick, awkward silence, guitar chords aside. The song Heero is currently on continues to play itself, slowly, mournfully. Heero realizes he has been humming softly over the chords.

Duo laughs, a little bitterly. "Something fantastic..."

Heero doesn't know whether he's referring to the song or something else. He stops playing and focuses on Duo. What is he trying to say? And then Heero remembers that he had things he wanted to say too. But, staring at Duo lying on his couch and becoming cynical, he's scared. He can't find words.

"None of that stuff would work, you know? The crazy, ridiculous shit they sing about? Like the glue?"

Ha. That was the same conclusion he had reached about the song too.

"It's really simple. So simple. The most fantastic thing would be if you would just tell me. But that would mean you would have to solve of your problems first. And I guess you haven't gotten that far yet, right?" Duo chokes. "God!"

"What?"

"You wanna know why I'm here, Heero? Because I finally realized I was being a hypocrite." Duo sits up and Heero is pierced by Duo's eyes. "I want to be happy too, Heero. And that's something I should be taking into my own hands, and not just sitting around waiting for it to fall in my lap. Does that sound familiar to you?"

"It's not the same thing, Duo!" Heero exclaims, exasperated. "You do take action. You know what actions to take! You don't scowl and hiss whenever someone wins, whenever you hear success stories you know you have the potential to achieve but still haven't. You don't become a huge fucking ball of desolate rage and incoherency whenever someone gets close to what you want."

"Or who you want?" Duo shakes his head, bewildered that there is no response forthcoming. "Damn it Heero, you know what you want, who you want. I know you know. I can see it your eyes."

"I... I just..." Heero stutters. He can't do this. How do people do this? Happiness is so hard to achieve. "I don't know how..."

Duo picks up the crane made from the scrap of notepad Heero had scribbled on and throws it at him. "You're still on this?! Fuck, Heero, even I know how to do it."

Heero's eyes follow Duo's hand into his pocket and to the thing in his hand when he opens it. A green, origami bird. His eyes go wide. Duo had kept it!? His failed napkin bird! Except it isn't a crane anymore.

"You have the instructions. Why don't you follow them?"

Heero can see the hurt and the pain, can hear it as Duo implores him. But he is frozen to his spot on the floor. He blinks in frustration and looks at Duo, but there are no answers there, just disappointment. God, what should he say? Damn it, why is it so hard?

Finally, Duo is fed up with it all and, throwing his hands up, rushes out the back door into the night, leaving a barely sane Heero in his wake.

They avoid each other all day. Heero makes food for two but ends up eating alone. He respects Duo's anger at him and lets the other share of the food be taken away unchallenged when he goes to his laptop to hide. At dinner they end up running into each other and for a second, their eyes meet. It hurts Heero when Duo quickly looks away, but he knows it is his fault, and he knows he must fix it. He sees the damaged crane Duo threw the night before at the foot of the bookshelf and picks it up, fixing it and putting it into his pocket. After wetting all the dishes in the sink, he goes to join Duo on the end of the pier. He had done so much thinking there, on those boards. Duo is probably doing the same.

He is seated off to one side, as if expecting Heero to come out to him. When Heero slowly crouches to his left and hears no protest, he is sure Duo had been waiting. He eases onto his bum and brings out his legs to mirror Duo's over the water.

"You seem happier. That's what I thought that first day I got here. And then I thought, hey, maybe Heero's figured a few things out. Maybe he's gotten over this silly little envy thing. Maybe he can finally be happy for people who are happy. Maybe he'll let me be happy."

He pauses there, and Heero wonders if he's going to continue, or if he's done. Even though it seems Duo is no longer mad at him, as he was last night, Heero is afraid to look at Duo. Afraid to hear that it might be too late. He needs to say something, say something now. But then Duo goes on.

"It's not easy for everyone else, you know? But they know that, and they work at it. That's how they get to being happy. Yeah, it's easier for some than for others, but still. It's a process of learning, and listening to yourself. What you want. And what to avoid. There are a lot of little things you could've done before that would've helped you to be a lot more relaxed."

"Yeah. I've learned that. I learned a good number of things." Heero finally turns away from the water and to his side. His eyes rest on bare knees, not as tanned as his own, and he brings them up, across Duo's thighs and shorts, up the folds and wrinkles at the base of his tee, sees the hands clasped together and goes up the lax muscles in his left arm. Little scars on his shoulder, but a smooth neck. Jaw line. They finally rest on Duo's face waiting patiently for him to continue. It's make or break time. "I also know now that I will never really be happy unless I'm with you.

"I was this ball of envy when I left. I think I still am. I just... don't know how to not be this ugly thing I turn into when I see other people around you. It always felt like they're gonna take you away. I still feel that way now."

"You're afraid you're going to lose me."

"I guess. Yeah."

"There's a way around that, you know? I'm here now, but I can't wait forever. If you keep this up, then sooner or later, I won't be here anymore. I don't know when that is. But...you won't lose me if...you have me. You know?" Heero nods. He understands. Duo continues through the stray hair across his face. "You know what I want. But I'm not gonna make it any easier for you. You have to do this yourself."

"Okay." And he kisses him.

Happiness tastes good. When they break apart, Heero realizes his eyes are closed and opens them again to see sparkling indigo, equally pleased as he.

"Can we do that again?"

Heero's laugh is cut short by the insistent hand at the back of his head, fingers tangled in hair. He curls an arm around Duo's waist as they lean into each other, and their free hands find one another. The kiss is longer, slower, with more substance but still light. The hand at his head lets up and they both pull back, fingers still locked together.

Suddenly remembering, Heero releases Duo's hand and reaches into his pocket, gingerly pulling out the present. He holds the base of front and tugs on the tail, watching the wings flap in the reflection in Duo's eyes. "Here. I said you could have one when I made it." He offers the origami to Duo, waiting.

The bird is picked up off his hand, examined, and tossed into the water. At Heero's incredulous look, Duo smiles and explains. "That bird was for you. To let the problems go. Now make a bird for me."

Heero hears the unspoken request, and is pleased to find himself eager to comply. "I'll have to go inside for more paper, though."

"Mmm, nah, I think I can wait. I've already waited all this time." Fingers wrap around Heero's own once again, and they sit against one another in simply fantastic happiness.

"So when are we gonna head back? Tomorrow?"

"The stars here are gorgeous. Let's stay a few days. We can watch the birds in the morning."

"Okay."