It was afternoon that day, and it was sunny. Everything around him was green -- the grass, the leaves, the color of Heero's stupid shirt. There were a few crickets around to disrupt the peace, and it was warm. Heero's hand in his was warm.

Duo was supposed to wake Heero up now, he knew, as Heero had given him specific instructions. He'd probably get mad at Duo when he woke up, and would never take another nap in the rest of his life.

But that's just the thing, Duo thought. He might never even have the choice to take a nap ever again.

So, Duo let him nap.

"Duo?"

He didn't look up, preoccupied with memorizing every curve of Heero's sleeping fingers.

"Mission," Quatre's voice whispered from above. Heero stirred slightly, but stayed asleep. Duo could practically feel his friend's shock.

"Is something wrong?" Quatre said, still in a muted tone as he crouched down beside Duo. "Heero should be whipping out a gun and pointing it between my eyes by now."

"I don't know. He says I'm relaxing. I mean, who says that?" Duo replied, snorting. "That being around me...'relaxes him.' What is that supposed to mean?" Quatre waited for more, but Duo was content to trace patterns on Heero's palm.

"I don't understand, Duo."

"I think the point is that nothing is wrong, Quat." Duo finally looked up. "And that's the problem. Nothing's wrong right now, except the fact that we're pilots, and we're only teenagers, and we're fighting a war, and he has a mission waiting for him." Duo sighed.

"What if he dies tomorrow, Quat? Would there still be nothing wrong?"

Quatre stayed silent, looking away as Duo kissed the back of Heero's palm. He got up, biting the inside of his lip as he did so. "Five minutes. Okay, Duo?" He laid his hand on Duo's shoulder, a pained look on his face, before leaving them alone.

"Yeah," Duo echoed, watching the sunlight cast shade on Heero's cheek. "Okay."