Heero walked with trepidation toward the huge black bus. It looked like an
overgrown hearse, so black that it almost seemed to absorb light. No chrome
anywhere, windows blacked out, matte black trim, no logos whatsoever. It
certainly looked intimidating, but what worried Heero was not the bus but the
diminutive singer he knew would be inside. He would never admit it to anyone,
but Duo Maxwell confused him. Heero Yuy was a man who had everything figured
out. He had always known what he wanted to do. He was a natural athlete,
excelling in any sport he decided to try, his natural strength enhanced by
dedicated exercise. His half-Japanese heritage had caused him some problems
at school, at least until the first confrontation, when the bullies decided
to leave him alone after seeing him fight. His career as a bodyguard started
when a boy he had befriended got picked on as well. They soon found that when
Heero was with him, no one bothered him. Heero found he liked being respected
for his strength, and he liked protecting other people. It made him feel
He trained in every form of martial arts he could find, and at a competition
he was approached by the head of a small, elite security firm that provided
discreet protection for celebrities. They didn't want huge, flashy, obvious
muscle; subtle, unarmed protection was what their clients wanted. Heero fit
that description perfectly, and he was hired straight out of high school. He
was the company's youngest bodyguard, and was in great demand. In the three
years he had worked with the company, he had guarded movie stars, diplomats
and foreign dignitaries alike; he loved his work. It was mostly uneventful,
but when he finished a job he knew he had done the best job possible.
Bodyguarding also left plenty of free time, once the client's pattern was
established. Heero loved to study languages, knowing that someday he might
need them. He spoke English and Japanese fluently, of course, and had worked
his way through Mandarin Chinese, French, Italian and Spanish. He was now
alternating between German and Korean. He carried a rolling suitcase and a
backpack; he really didn't know how much stuff he would need. Treize had said
the tour would last 3 months, but that they wouldn't be out the whole time.
It was also pretty obvious that the producer doubted he would last the entire
tour. Heero decided to prove him wrong; he had never quit on a client before,
and didn't intend to start now. He wasn't afraid of Duo Maxwell, no matter
how beautiful... he corrected himself quickly... annoying the singer was.
He had been propositioned by several of his female clients, but he had always
rejected their advances on the basis of his job. He was absolutely not
allowed to become involved with his clients. It was a relief, actually, to
have that to hide behind. As beautiful as some of the women he had guarded
had been, they didn't move him. He had had a few short relationships, but
nothing very serious. There never seemed to be a spark, and he would find
himself losing interest quickly. It was all too much effort. He didn't mind
being alone. Now... for the first time, he found himself moved by someone.
For the first time, there was a spark. And he was afraid. Not to mention the
fact that the person who made him feel this way was male. Heero was
He looked down at himself. He wore jeans, neatly pressed but jeans
nonetheless. He felt underdressed. Most clients wanted him dressed nicely,
and he had gotten used to it. Worse still was the shirt he wore; it was a
black t-shirt. He didn't like t-shirts, he preferred button-up shirts. He
wasn't sure why he was so worried about how he looked. He unconsciously ran a
hand through his permanently mussed brown hair before knocking on the door of
the bus. There was no response. He banged on the door, harder. Still no
response. Now Heero was annoyed. He was punctual, he expected the same of his
clients. He leaned forward, trying to hear any voices inside the bus. He
could hear music. The door was open a centimeter or so. He put down his
suitcase and found he could just slip his fingers in the crack. He pulled,
and the heavy doors moved slightly. He reapplied himself, bracing his feet,
and pulled with all his strength. The doors groaned, then opened. Smirking to
himself, he walked up the stairs.
The first thing he saw was a blond head peeking over a row of seats. "Hey!
Nobody opened the door! How'd you get in?"
Another head joined the blond; poking up over the seats, so close it was
obvious that the two were sharing a seat. "And more importantly, who the fuck
are you?" the low voice asked threateningly.
Heero put on his best bodyguard blank look, walking forward until he loomed
over the people in the seat. He looked down, burying a blush because the two
were both boys, and completely entwined with one another. Their hands were...
he focused on their faces as he tried not to lose his composure. He looked
down at them, not saying anything.
The brown haired one stood up as quickly as he could without dumping the
blond on the floor. "I asked you a question," he said, sounding angrier.
Heero looked him straight in the eye and said, "I'm here to see Mr. Maxwell."
The blond laughed, the brunet looked confused, and Zechs appeared from the
back just in time. "Ah, Mr. Yuy, great to see you again. I see you've met
Trowa and Quatre already." Trowa sat back down.
Heero looked down at the two in the seat, while Zechs continued, "Quatre is
the keyboard player and Trowa is the bass player, in Duo's band."
"We're also Duo's friends, and we take care of him," added the blond slightly
"Well, this is Heero Yuy, and it's his job now to protect Duo. He's a
bodyguard," Zechs explained.
Trowa still looked suspicious, but Quatre smiled warmly. Then started to
laugh. "Good luck!" Quatre said, apparently enjoying his own private joke.
"You'll need it," added Trowa.
Quatre giggled again, checking out the bodyguard's impressive body. "Then
again, Duo might enjoy him a little TOO much."
Heero tried not to blush at the blond's insinuation. He was succeeding in not
reacting to the innuendo. At least until Duo himself appeared.
"Y'all are talking about me, aren't you?" drawled the longhaired boy,
wandering up and draping himself over two seats. He was talking to his
bandmates, but he stared challengingly at the new bodyguard, trying to hide
the way the gorgeous man made him feel. He was also trying to pretend that he
hadn't been anticipating the man's arrival, hadn't dressed especially
provocatively for him. He had wiggled into his shortest shorts and most torn
t-shirt, and his hair cascaded around him. He sprawled back, spreading his
thighs casually, watching to see if the bodyguard's eyes strayed. No
reaction; the man was either really good, or wasn't interested. But Duo
wasn't about to give up just yet.
"Duo, you seem to have a present waiting for you," said Quatre, and Trowa
frowned at him.
Duo smiled, "I think it's a robot, personally."
"Duo," chided Zechs. "I thought you were going to try to get along with Mr.
Duo pouted. "I'm just not used to this."
Heero had been watching the exchange as neutrally as possible, trying with
all his will not to stare at the longhaired singer's spread legs.
"Just let Mr. Yuy do his job," Zechs continued.
Heero cut in. "Please, call me Heero." And he finally addressed Duo directly,
taking a deep breath so as not to get lost in those violet eyes. "And I'll
try to do my job without getting in your way, Mr. Maxwell. Just try to
pretend I'm not here."
Duo almost laughed out loud. Trying to ignore the gorgeous man was not an
option. What he said was, "Yeah, right." Then he looked out the window
wistfully. "I just wish this wasn't necessary. It's not fair." Then he turned
back abruptly, grin fixed firmly in place. "And call me Duo. Mr. Maxwell is
my father, I haven't talked to that asshole in years!"
Heero thought for a moment he had had a glimpse at the real person underneath
the persona, but it was quickly gone, and that saddened him for some reason.
He berated himself for getting too involved already. This was just another
job. No matter how his new charge made him feel.
"Right! Is everyone ready then?" Zechs cut in.
"I'm always ready," Duo shot back, unable to resist an opening like that.
"We know, Duo," laughed Trowa, pulling Quatre back on his lap.
"Grab a seat, Heero, it's gonna be a bumpy ride!" yelled Quatre just before
Trowa shut him up with a kiss.
"You don't know the half of it," murmured Zechs with resignation.
The bus rumbled to life, and they were on their way.