Disclaimers: I don't own Gundam Wing - my delusions don't stretch that far.

Pairing: 1X2
Warnings/Spoiler: After the War. Mention of 1x2. Yet another short ficlet - this one from Duo's POV.
Rating: G
Feedback: Craved more than unexpected joy.

Notes: Hello and Happy January from DC! Yes, I enjoyed the holidays. Yes, I'm still writing. And yes, the "Little Things" ficlets are off and running for 2002... (This one is short - but I've others under construction and will post a second one later this week.)

Summary: Yet another quiet little exploration of the relationship between Heero and Duo. Eighth in a loosely connected set.

The Little Things Arc
Part Eight: Heero's Desk
by D.C. Logan

Duo sat pensively at Heero's desk. Heero would have twitched to see him there, in 'his' space, smoothing his fingers along the surface, but Heero wasn't around today. Which was how he'd come to be here in the first place.

He found it soothing, somehow, to spend time where Heero used up so many of his hours. He shifted on the Heero-sized depression in the padding of the chair and rested his chin in the cup of his braced hands.

Heero had finally stopped locking his desk when he left for the day. It had taken months, and the first time Duo had noticed the key resting in its lock, he'd assumed that Heero had forgotten and had nearly drawn his attention to it. But something caught him up at the last moment; Heero didn't forget things - ever. He wouldn't be likely to acknowledge the sudden change in his routine either. This was exactly how changes were made in Heero's life; he made a decision, followed through on it, and put it past him almost immediately. Sure enough, the key remained in its place for the rest of the week. Heero was changing, loosening up his restrictions - dare he say 'mellowing' - as the weeks passed. He grinned, no, he wouldn't say that to his partner's face, but he'd think it in private, and it would bring a smile to his face as he brought it to mind.

He pulled himself closer to the surface, and rested his face against the top of the desk. The light from the window threw the small, nearly invisible divots and mars into sharp relief. He traced a line of engraved script with an idle fingertip. Heero's signature. He so rarely wrote in cursive, and the name was bold, and strong enough to penetrate the paper and the resilient surface of the desk - and leave a lasting impression.

Of course, if he thought about it rationally, that's exactly what the man had done to his life as well; he'd seen it from a different perspective, offered something that hadn't been considered before, and left him different than he'd been. Enough that, despite some of their earlier troubles, they'd managed to find common ground between them. And once that space had been found, Duo had been amazed at how quickly a small handful of shared interests and experiences had expanded to become his entire universe. He wondered if it had been the same for Heero...

on to 'strands'

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