by Blue Soaring
The five pilots gathered at the table the next day. Quatre was serving pancakes. The little blonde seemed to take great joy in preparing breakfast for them, so the other four dutifully filed into the kitchen every morning. A bright smile covered the small pilot’s face.
"Good morning everyone!" Quatre beamed at the four seated boys. "Sleep well?"
A smattering of responses came from the table. This too was part of the ritual. Early on, the others had discovered that, with food, came the responsibility of morning chats. Personally, Wufei thought it was an unfair exchange.
"So." Quatre sat down at the head of the table, laying the big plate of pancakes in the center. To his right sat Duo and Trowa. Across from them, Wufei leaned on the table with Heero seated beside him. "How did the mission go? You’re back early." He started serving out breakfast as he waited for an answer.
Wufei waved a hand dismissingly. "They were insufficiently trained and unprepared. It was an insult to our honor."
"Hn." Heero grunted, probably in agreement. One could never tell.
"And the mobile suits?"
Wufei gave Quatre a withering look.
Quatre didn’t fidget under the Chinese pilot’s glare. If anything, his smile actually got bigger. "Excellent. Here, have some pancakes, you must be starved!" The blonde heaped pancakes onto Wufei’s plate.
Oddly, Duo was quiet. Of course, it’s hard to talk with your mouth full of food, but that usually didn’t stop the energetic American. It was Heero who spoke next.
"What did you do while we were gone, Quatre?" Heero asked, chewing slowly on his food.
Duo’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. That was a whole sentence that just came from Heero, complete with punctuation and hidden meanings. He gasped, choking on a mouthful of orange juice. Trowa pounded the braided boy on the back. Duo finally got his breathing under control, shooting a grateful look at the other boy. Trowa nodded, sipping on his coffee.
The others were looking at Duo. After a few seconds, they turned back to their plates. Heero looked pointedly at Quatre, waiting for a response. Quatre was sill beaming.
"Nothing much. We all ran diagnostics on our Gundams; watched a bit of television. But we had fun, didn’t we?" Quatre was positively glowing.
Quatre looked at Duo and Trowa. Trowa looked at Quatre and Duo. Duo looked at Wufei, Quatre and Heero. Heero looked at Duo and Wufei. Wufei looked at Heero and Duo. There was an awful lot of looking going on around that small table.
Duo inhaled his last pancake. "Yeah, we had fun. Tinkering. Great pancakes Quat!" He reached for another.
Trowa stared into his coffee cup, not that you could really see where his eyes were under all that hair. He nodded his agreement. Or at least his hair did.
Wufei cocked an eyebrow. "So, did we miss anything exciting?"
Quatre laughed. "Exciting? Around here?" He shook his head. "You guys were the ones on a mission, getting all the action."
Duo was scarfing down pancakes like there was no tomorrow. Then he ran out of syrup. He looked at his plate, then at the empty bottle. He seemed lost. Trowa pushed his plate over to Duo, and the violet-eyed boy smiled, dipping his fork into the gooey pile of syrup.
Wufei leaned back from the table. "Action? Yes, I suppose we were."
Then Duo started in on Trowa’s pancakes. "You wanf ‘th west o’ thowse?" He mumbled around a mouthful, pointing down at his friend’s half empty plate. Trowa shook his head. Duo swallowed; then he grinned.
"So, what’s on the agenda for today, Heero?" Quatre asked, watching Duo demolish what was left of Trowa’s breakfast.
Heero sipped his drink. "Diagnostics on Wing and Shenlong. Inventory of food and first aid supplies." He ticked items off on his fingers. "Perimeter scans, routine security measures, including motion detectors."
Trowa stopped nodding. Quatre almost stopped beaming at Heero. Almost. Duo raised his head from his plate, cheeks puffed out. Wufei raised his other eyebrow.
Duo swallowed loudly. "Laundry?" He echoed.
"Yes, laundry," the shorthaired boy repeated. "we’re running out of clean clothes and sheets."
Eyes were glancing madly over the table now. The Chinese pilot could have sworn he saw a smile flicker behind Heero’s blue eyes. Wufei was enjoying the show, although he’d never admit it. On account of his honor, you see.
"I’ll take the laundry." Quatre spoke up.
Wufei could see the tension ooze out of Duo. He could barely control his laughter. It seems Heero was not as withdrawn as he had once thought. This new revelation held…possibilities.
"Inventory for me!" Duo bounded up from the table, gathering dishes as he went.
No one was surprised. If food was involved, so was Duo.
"Perimeter." Trowa also stood, and Duo narrowly missed hitting him with his armload of dirty plates.
Wufei looked up at the tall pilot. "I’ll help with the scanners."
Trowa nodded. He seemed to be doing a lot of that.
"And that leaves the Gundams to you, Heero. Can you handle both of them?" Quatre was still glowing. He was turning into a damned light bulb. Duo wondered where his switch was. Oh yeah. He already knew.
"Of course." Heero drained the rest of his juice, handing the glass to Duo as the latter rushed past.
The Heavyarms pilot turned to leave with Wufei close on his heels. Wufei had the distinct feeling that there was going to be a lot of innuendo tidbits flying around today. He was sort of looking forward to it.
Quatre dumped another load into the washer. He was feeling quite glad that this safe house was well equipped. Well, truth be told, he had made sure it had all the necessary amenities. Technically, it wasn’t a safe house. It was a summer cabin. But why quibble over a technicality?
The Arabian pilot wandered into the kitchen. Duo was nowhere to be seen. He was probably working on the medical supplies by now. Quatre shrugged to himself. Laundry was such a boring task. You couldn’t really say that you were doing the laundry either. It was more like you gave the machine the clothes and the detergent and it did the washing. A technicality, really. And since Quatre wasn’t quibbling over technicalities, he let it drop. He got himself a cold glass of water instead.
Quatre leaned against the counter, looking at the table where they had all eaten breakfast just a little while ago. It occurred to him that Heero was acting a little strange…well, he conceded, a little strange for Heero. Heero had dropped enough hints that he knew what had happened last night. He could have swore Heero was really saying ‘who’ when he had asked ‘what’. The only thing was, Quatre couldn’t tell what was behind those hints. The little pilot smiled again. One way to find out. And he poured another glass of water.
Trowa and Wufei were sneaking. If you asked them, it was stealth, but sneaking works just as well. They flowed in among the trees, hidden from the sky. Wufei held a small scanner in his hand. He watched as various signals bleeped across the screen each time they passed a motion detector. Trowa moved about twenty feet in front and to the side of him. Wufei stopped and whistled to the green-eyed pilot.
Trowa halted, looking over to where Wufei’s whistle had come from. The Chinese pilot emerged from behind a tree and motioned for Trowa to join him.
Wufei watched as the circus acrobat approached him. He had no choice but to admire the grace with which the Heavyarms pilot moved. Although his own training was exhaustive, Trowa’s muscles bunched and flowed under his skin like some feral cat’s; with a deadly beauty. Wufei was gaping. He gave himself a mental shake. He’d have to work on that. It was bad enough he lusted after Duo, but now it seemed he was severely tempted to jump the entire group. So much for being a loner.
Trowa was standing close to Wufei, whispering in his ear. Wufei nearly jumped out of his skin. One point for the clown. Wufei recovered quickly and moved his head so he could speak in the brown-haired pilot’s ear. "Number fourteen, malfunction. No visual." Why the hell where they whispering?
Trowa nodded. Big surprise.
Wufei walked over to the detector. Trowa stayed where he was. The black-haired boy shifted the bushes, searching for the defective equipment. He found it a few seconds later. Picking it up, he snapped the casing and fiddled with the wires. A green light flickered once. Satisfied, he closed it and put it back in its place, fixing the bushes. He glanced at the palm scanner. Two visuals, him and Trowa. Coordinates confirmed. He walked back to Trowa.
"Fixed?" The tall pilot inquired.
Wufei was tempted to say no. But what purpose would that serve? He’d been around Duo for much too long. The braided idiot was starting to rub off on him. A smile quirked at the corners of Wufei’s mouth. Rub off on him. He made a funny. Trowa was looking at him, waiting for an answer. Wufei was going to share the joke with him, but then he remembered Trowa had no idea what had happened. At least, he thought the other pilot didn’t. Curiosity got the better of the Chinese boy. He’d have to work on that, too.
"So, how was Quatre?" He asked, fiddling with the scanner.
Trowa quirked his single visible eyebrow. There were all sorts of implications in that particular question. Unfortunately for Trowa, he didn’t know how much Wufei knew. He knew that Wufei knew that something happened in the safe house last night. The conversation at breakfast proved that. Or he thought he knew that Wufei knew. Trowa could have just been reading too much into the exchange. Or maybe Wufei did know, and Wufei was trying to find out how much Trowa knew about his little excursion into the realm of Duo. Trowa’s head started to ache. One point for the Chinese pilot. Of course, there was always the possibility that Wufei was just asking if Quatre was worried about the mission; Quatre had a tendency to worry about the other pilot’s safety. But that last thought didn’t cross the tall pilot’s mind. Go figure.
So, Trowa decided not to play word games. It would conserve brain power, not to mention his sanity. "Great. Duo?"
That little response took Wufei off guard. Chalk up one more point for Trowa. He hadn’t expected a straight forward response. Oh well. At least he got his answer. Trowa knew about Duo, and he knew that Wufei knew about Quatre. Nice and open. So much for innuendo. Wufei let an uncharacteristic grin appear on his face.
Trowa returned the smile. He moved his face close to Wufei’s. "Much easier my way, isn’t it?" Before the other boy could answer, Trowa closed the distance between them, pressing his lips against Wufei’s. Wufei’s eyes widened in shock. Trowa’s hand came up to cup the back of his head, pressing Wufei against him. The Chinese pilot closed his eyes and leaned into the kiss, parting his lips. He felt Trowa’s warm tongue exploring his mouth. He returned the favor, meeting the other boy’s tongue with his own.
They broke apart, gasping. Wufei had no choice but to agree as he felt his body stir in response to Trowa’s touch. Another point for Trowa. Score: Trowa, three; Wufei, one. Next round?
Trowa motioned for them to continue checking the detectors. They still had work to do, he kept telling himself. But his body didn’t seem to want to listen. When did it ever?
Heero was watching Wing’s vid screen. Now, that was interesting. He looked on as Trowa and Wufei continued with the perimeter scan. Heero had the habit of keeping an eye on the other pilots. He told himself it was because of the danger they would pose to the others if either one was captured. It made perfect sense, so he left it at that. After all, why argue with yourself? Seemed like a self-defeating action to him. Heero wasn’t big on defeat.
He glanced back at his laptop’s readout. Shenlong was in perfect condition; Wufei took good care of his Gundam. They all did. Heero climbed out of the cockpit and shimmied down the side of Wing. He opened a panel on Wing’s left leg and examined the wiring. He saw the problem and immediately set to work fixing it.
Quatre stood on the walkway looking at Heero. He held a glass of water in his hand, forgotten. His eyes were glued on the half-naked, sweating Heero. He licked his lips.
"Yes?" Heero asked, not turning from his work.
Quatre started. "Ah…I thought maybe, you’d like a drink?" He approached the Wing pilot, holding out the now remembered glass.
Heero turned, wiping his hands on a rag. Quatre stared. Heero was hot and glistening. The boy positively screamed sex. Tanned skin covered a slender body. Hints of muscles showed underneath. Quatre was getting a little hot himself. Heero reached out and took the glass before it could fall from lax fingers. He leaned back against Wing, crossing his arms over his chest. "Something else, Quatre?"
It took every bit of will power the small blonde possessed not to jump Heero right then and there. He was quite proud of himself. Then it hit him. Heero was teasing him. This little show had been for Quatre’s benefit. He should have suspected as much. Heero had virtually hit him over the head with a sledgehammer at breakfast with all those hints he was tossing out. Problem was, what was Heero suggesting?
Heero saw the indecision flicker across Quatre’s face. He held up the empty glass. Quatre walked forward to take it. As soon as he got close enough, Heero’s hand flashed out, grabbing the blonde by the wrist and tugging him off balance. He fell against Heero.
Quatre looked up into Heero’s face. The Wing pilot’s eyes smoldered. He set the glass down behind him. His hands snaked around to press the blonde’s hips against his own. Quatre felt the pulsing hardness in Heero’s pants. He felt his own pants grow tight. He felt the heat emanating from Heero’s body. All in all, he felt very good. It was a nice, compromising situation to be in. No question now as to what Heero was suggesting. He suggested things very persuasively, he did.
But first, they had work to do. Life isn’t fair sometimes.
Duo sniffed. They definitely needed more food. There was absolutely nothing in the safe house worth eating. The fridge was full of vegetables, tofu and various sauces. No meat. Unacceptable. The only things to drink were juice and coffee. No soda pop. Unacceptable. The cupboards held dried pastas and various canned goods. No snack food. Unacceptable. He’d have to go get supplies.
Duo raced upstairs to get his jacket and hat. No sense in telling the others where he was going. They were all busy. Why bother them with petty details? Duo sauntered outside to where the motorcycle was hidden. He glanced at the small saddlebags slung oddly over the seat. They’d be big enough to carry the food. After all, he wasn’t getting that much. Just the necessities.
Duo grinned and revved the engine. It was surprisingly quiet. Heero must’ve been tweaking with the bike. He had a habit of doing that. Oh well. Quiet was better anyway. He straddled the bike, setting the saddlebags more securely. Then he sailed down the half-concealed road, braid flying behind him.
The scanner in Wufei’s hand bleeped. He hurriedly glanced down at it. Trowa looked back, waiting. The screen showed a blip on the radar, so he switched to visual, searching for the source. A figure on a bike shot past one of the cameras. He switched to the next and centered in on the figure. Wufei shook his head. It was only Duo. But where was he off to?
Heero’s laptop beeped. Quatre glanced up at Heero, then scrambled up the lifts and poles after him. Heero flicked to the outside cameras. He saw Duo race by on the motorcycle. Where the hell was he going? No missions had come through.
Quatre groaned. "Food," was all he said.
Heero’s eyes flicked back to the screen.
Duo had a plan.