COMMENTS: Always remember -- wherever you go, there you are. *chuckle* I think Duo would like Buckaroo Banzai. The tracker chips for package tracking exist today . Frozen hamburgers cooked with pepper, soy sauce and a bit of wine are quite good. And the "damned Memphis song" is real. I endured it for a couple of hours one afternoon.

WARNINGS: yaoi, mild limeness

BGM: "Anywhere Is" from Enya's "The Memory of Trees". It is interesting how many cultures and languages around the world seemed to recognize the relationship between space and time long before Einstein -- that is, they have no hard distinction between distance in space and distance in time.

Wherever You Go...
A Soldiers and Fools Story
June AC201 - January AC202
by LoneWolf ( kodoku na okami )

-- 4 June 201 --

I've decided to keep a diary for a while.

I know. I know. You're the writer, not me, and I'm sure I'll end up with as many sketches and doodles in the margin as words on the page -- like always. But we're gonna be doing a lot of traveling and one day, after all this Rejects craziness is over, when we decide to settle down again, I want to be able to give this to you so we can sit in bed together and read it and remember that it wasn't just crazy, it was fun too.

Yeah, that made me smile. Because it's almost always fun when I'm with you, koibito mio. Mon ... uh ... what's French for corazon? You would know. Oh, fuck it. I'll stick to a language I know. Mi corazon.

Why am I being so dopey? Probably because I'm tired.

Well, that's a good start for someone who isn't a writer. I guess I should mention that we're about an hour out of Paris and you're sitting next to me, asleep, relaxed. I think I'll add a few sketches of you and the plane so we can remember what it all looked like. And I'm gonna draw that flight attendant who kept making eyes at you. Yep. I'm gonna draw her face when she saw you grabbing my ass back by the lavatory too. Heh. Did you see that? Well, you will when you read this.

Maybe when you see these pictures of you, you'll understand why I call you my angel. You always look the part when you're asleep. Well, all the time, in my opinion. ... Maybe I'll add a pair of wings to that one...

-- 10 June 201 --


That's all I can say about last night.

Well, not really. I could say a lot more, but, y'know. Okay, so our first night together. And the next day. I was sore for a month, but it was sure as Hell worth it. Hmm. And then the Razor -- the club in Tokyo -- but we'd been apart for two whole weeks then...

Anyway, last night was one of the best we've had so far. And not just the sex.

Maybe I think that because the first couple of days here in Paris were kinda shitty. I forgot how nasty I felt after I got my comm set implanted and I don't blame you for not being in the mood. And the time shift from Tokyo... Just let me remind you that I'm sorry I was so persistent Wednesday that you had to tell me to back off. I know that had to be hard for you, 'cause I really do know you don't like turning me down, and... well... I'm sorry I was so pissy when you said, "No".

Uh... Comm set. Feeling nasty. Especially the jaw. Bone healing is a bitch. And I know you aren't the kind to pig out on fancy food all the time, but broth and soft bread torn into tiny pieces is not a fun diet, especially in Paris.

At least the Paris Hotel P is nice. Oz prisons were a lot less pleasant, ne?

And I like making soup for you.

Anyway, last night when you slammed that damned laptop shut and said, "To Hell with it. We're going out," and peeled off the tape over the incisions... Well, you hit me in one of my "I just want Heero to tell me what to do" moods. Did you know I was feeling like that? Hell, do you even know I sometimes wish you would? Or is it just you being you? Well, it's a good thing you heal quick. I could barely see the scars where the doctor cut, and I knew where they were, so I'm sure no one else could.

I sure as Hell didn't think you'd know any fancy restaurants here, though. Yeah, I know you lived here for years, but I have a hard time seeing you in a place that costs a hundred credits a plate. Well, the food was perfect, and the wine was even better. God, if I ate like that every night I'd have to buy a new wardrobe in a week, but for a once in a while thing, it was great. And then the walk afterwards...

Damn it, how do you always know when I want you to have your hand on my waist instead of my ass? I really want to know. Are you psychic? Is it some subtle hint you see in my face or the way I stand or something? I can't believe it's programmed into you. I mean, what good would *that* do you in a war? It has to be something you've learned. Here's a little picture of me smiling my goofy grin because I know that's what I'm doing right now -- because you notice these things.

And here's the view from the top of the New Eiffel Tower.

I guess the fact that I rattled on about it every day since before we left Tokyo must've given you the hint. But you didn't know how great the view was gonna be. You can't tell me you did because I saw your face. "It's like a network diagram," you said -- after about five minutes staring out over the lights. And I rolled my eyes because any normal person would have said, "It's like a dew-covered spider web at sunrise." Sometimes, you are so... Heero Yuy.

But you probably don't remember me rolling my eyes, because that's when I wiggled so your hand slipped below my waist. That got your attention. Do you know what your face looked like then? I think you were even more surprised than by the view. Baka. Here. I'll show you how silly you looked.

And here's us kissing on the top of the tower -- what I think we looked like, anyway. Y'know, you remind me of the tower. All that hard steel you call muscle and bone and those steely blue eyes that rivet me in place. And at the same time, you're... Well, not delicate, but finely made. Beautiful and graceful and yielding in all the right places.

Mmm. We kissed again. See, like that. ... And again...

No, I'm not going to draw them all. I don't think there's enough room in this book. And I'm not going to draw what happened after we got back to our room. I know you remember that.

Which brings me back to where I started.


I'm glad you aren't a normal person, Heero Yuy.

Oh yeah. I think the purple body stain is starting to wear off. Heh.

-- 15 June 201 --

So that must have been the only fancy restaurant you know in Paris.

I'm not complaining. I like the little cafes where we can take a table tucked in a corner and sit with our chairs next to each other, legs touching under the table, sipping coffee, whispering to each other. Even if we are whispering about work most of the time. I like being near you. And you do seem to have an eye for what makes a good cafe. I wonder if you could explain it or if it's another one of those things you've learned and don't know you've learned.

Oh, by the way, you're getting better with the comm. Don't worry so much. Learning to make your jaw muscles do the weird things that control it takes a while. That's why they set it on the private channel to begin with and make changing it the hardest move -- so you're less likely to broadcast at an embarrassing moment. But when you do learn to control it, I still want us to sit next to each other in the cafes whispering.

It's a lot more fun that way.

Well, I'm done with work today and you'll be out of your meeting with Commander Deveraux in a few minutes. I'm looking forward to the gym today. After sitting around on my ass most of the day reading all the reports on 29, a nice round on the stair machine and a hard weight session are just what I need. Hmm. We can take a nice steam when we're done. And then we'll go upstairs to our room and shower.

And I think tonight I'm going to take *you* out for dinner and a walk. It *is* Friday, so we don't have to go to work tomorrow. I wonder if there's a good show we could go see.

I think I'll check the Net while I'm waiting.

-- 18 June 201 --

I've figured out that you don't know much about the city, period. You know how to get to the airport, and your old apartment, and a handful of other places like the gas stations between your old apartment and the airport, and the corner grocery and the like. But you lived here for, what, nearly four years? And yesterday was the first time you'd been to the Louvre?! Or Notre Dame -- or what's left of it after the war, anyway. Or really anywhere that wasn't part of staying alive when you were living here.

Not that I'd ever seen any of them either, but I've only been in Paris a few weeks in my whole life and I know more about where to go than you do.

Okay, so I don't always know how to get there. But it's kinda fun watching you cringe when I try to ask someone for directions. You know how you look. Well, maybe not. Here, let me show you.

Oh, thanks for bailing me out with that flower lady yesterday. Here. I'll add a quick sketch of her looking at me with her eyes about to pop out of her head so you'll remember which one. I sometimes wonder if you let me try my French because you're hoping I'll get better at it or because you secretly find it amusing and the twitching is just an act. Was I really asking her to climb a tree and bark like a canary? I thought I was asking for the bathroom.

Speaking of which, is there enough dog shit on the sidewalks? You'd think people would learn to take their dogs to the curb. I mean, two feet is all I'm asking.

I guess every city has its dirty little secrets.

Maybe that's why you didn't explore much when you were here.

Didn't want to get messy shoes.

-- 22 June 201 --

What a bitch of a night. I mean, it isn't like we've had easy days at work, but sixteen solid hours of video conference. And since most of the team is in Tokyo, starting at 21:00 Paris time.

And now I need to stay awake for a few hours so I don't get my sleep cycle all fucked up. It was bad enough making the jump from Tokyo to Paris when we first got here. Ugh. And just when I'd really gotten adjusted to Paris time.

Oh well, since they caught sight of "you" on that security camera at Narita Spaceport, and since we all know *you* were here in Paris at the time... Yeah, I think it's about time to move on. Just give me a couple of days to get back to normal time.

I think I'm gonna give up and come to bed now.

Mmm. Just the thought of laying in bed feels so good.

Laying in bed next to you, holding you... well, that's even better.

-- 24 June 201 --

"Iceland?! What the Hell kind of drugs are you on, Yuy!?!"

No, I didn't say that to your face, but that's what I thought. Yes, I was mad, and I'm sure you could see it. If we hadn't been in a meeting with the team when you announced your little plan, and if I hadn't had a chance to cool down before we were alone, you can bet I would have said it though -- and probably a lot more too that I'd've had to apologize for later.

But I'm sure you planned it that way, you bastard. You're never anything less than thorough. And you're so damn stubborn.

Yes, I'm still mad. Iceland. Iceland! Groan. We'll freeze our asses off -- or maybe some other parts we'll both regret losing.

<-- Here's me giving my longsuffering sigh. I'll let you pick this time, but next time, I choose the destination. And you can damn well bet your life there isn't going to be any fucking snow where I pick.

Iceland. Hmph. My lover is a fucking idiot. How do you say that in French? Mon a'ime-ado c'est un fucking loco. Close enough.

But I love you anyway because you're MY fucking idiot. So I'll go to Iceland with you. Which proves I'm a fucking idiot too. So we're made for each other, huh? And I'm basically not mad anymore, but if I get frostbite, you're gonna owe me big time.

Yeah, I've learned that if I shoot my mouth off first I usually end up apologizing later. Of course, I don't always pay attention to what I've learned, but this time, I think I'd rather say, "I told you so," than, "I'm sorry."

Sigh. Iceland.

Oh, I was looking back at the last entry. I wonder if the fact he came in through Narita Spaceport means he came from one of the Colonies. I don't know if that does us any good. I'll remember to mention it to you later.

-- 29 June 201 --

You. Bastard.

You knew I was going to like it here, didn't you? Why do they call it ICE-land when the volcanoes and geysers and thermal vents and stuff keep the place so warm? Why didn't you tell me Iceland actually has a summer? And did you know so many people would speak English? I mean, Icelandic is a neat language to listen to, but I can't make heads or tails of it. I had a better chance trying to speak French. Scary thought.

Yeah, this is me being a big boy and admitting I was wrong. I like it here. And I'm glad I basically kept my mouth shut.

Hey. You're looking at me that way again. Here, let me show you.

Whups. Good thing I draw fast. I knew the smirk wasn't far behind that look.

I'll write more later. Right now... I'm going to show you how completely I've forgiven you for bringing me here.


-- 6 July 201 --

God, Heero. If I have to think about anything -- I mean even something as simple as what to eat for dinner or what to put on after I take my clothes off, I'm gonna go stark raving mad. We've spent so much time this past week talking about where the Rejects are hiding and what they're going to do next and how they're going to start a war and all that shit that I can't remember who said what, when. It doesn't help that we're now *ten* hours behind Tokyo.

Oh, yeah, I can remember what we talked about, just don't ask me who said it because the words are all running together in my head.

And I can remember Takanawa being bitchy to me -- and only me. I don't know what she's got against me, but I think even you were starting to pick up on it. You were getting kinda terse with her by the end of the day today. Maybe it's just a, uh, bad time for her, y'know. I guess that's one advantage of being gay.

Anyway, I hope to God your sixth sense or whatever is working tonight because when you get out of the shower in about... two minutes, I'd guess -- you are *so* punctual -- I desperately need you to take charge and just lead me around and tell me what to--

Someone's at the door...

It was the room service girl with dinner. Yes. Yes. My lover may be a fucking idiot, but he's good to me.

Good thing she got here before I started undressing. I really meant that part about not wanting think about what to wear.

-- 16 July 201 --

Did you call the Iceland tourist information center or something before we came? I know you've never been here before, so how else would you know anything about the Glymur Waterfall? Hell, I didn't know anything about it until you led me up that blah little canyon to find-- Well... Here, I'll draw a couple of pictures of it for you.

Yeah, I liked it, in case you couldn't tell. But don't let it go to your head, lover.

And then there was the Hengill. When we get past this Rejects business and decide to settle down again, we're getting a place with a warm spring where we can sit together naked and relax like we did there. Or at least a hot tub, okay?

Well, I guess we did more than sit together, but that group of hikers didn't seem too upset when they walked by and saw us splashing each other like a pair of kids. Of course, that's probably because you have a great body and they got to see it.

Hey, did you realize that?

Not that you have a great body. I tell you that all the time. But when we were playing in the warm spring like that we were acting like kids. Maybe just because we were grown-ups before we were teenagers doesn't mean we can't be kids sometimes now that we're grown-ups.

But the best part, I think, even better than the paintings at that museum -- the Kjar-- Kjarva-- Kjar-whatever. The best day was yesterday when we snuck up to the hotel roof and spent the whole day watching Mount Esja change colors. I hope you remember it when you read this. I'd draw it, but I can't do the colors justice.

<-- Me as Wufei

Anyway, it started out soft rose-gold in the sunrise, then dark green, then it changed to that weird shade of purple-grey when the cool front moved in with the clouds late in the afternoon and you held me close so I wouldn't be cold, then deep, deep blue in the moonrise. It was like that first night in Ireland when you held me, except this time, you would whisper to me every now and then, "Aishiteru."

Maybe the outline will be enough and when we read this together we can remember the colors. When I caught you staring at my eyes, you said the purple was the same shade for a while. Maybe looking at them will help with that part.

I loved the day. I loved seeing the mountain. I loved sitting next to you. I loved you holding me. I loved no one else being there with us. I loved hearing you say, "Aishiteru".

Damn it, Heero. I sound like a lovesick schoolboy -- and it's all your fault.

Me. Goofy grin. -->

-- 21 July 201 --

Okay, you have proved your proficiency with the comm -- among other things. Heh.

I mean, I was only vaguely surprised when you did the little tongue double-click over the comm to get my attention in the shower. I'd been in there for a while, I know. Damn water pressure. That's been the only bad thing about our stay here, and I can live with it, even if I bitch and moan about it sometimes.

Anyway, when you insisted I stick my head out of the shower and see what my birthday present was I was kinda pissed. I mean, my hair is gorgeous and all, but it's a lot of effort to maintain, and at the time it was full of conditioner.

Then I saw my present, all wrapped up in a cute red bow and nothing else... I think that was the fastest I've ever rinsed conditioner out of my hair. And you'd tied the bow so I could just pull the one strand of ribbon and it would come off. That was a good idea. If I'd had to cut it off and slipped with the scissors... That would have been bad.

You always pick such perfect gifts. Perfect size. Perfect color. Perfect for snuggling -- and more. Heh. Good thing it was Friday, bow-boy.

Good thing we had all Sunday afternoon for you to brush my hair out too.

-- 1 August 201 --

I give up. From now on, you get to pick the destinations.

It isn't that I don't like Sao Paulo, but after Iceland, it's steamy. I mean, the hot springs in Reykjavik were steamy, but you could get out of them and get out of the heat. Here, there's no escape.

And traffic. This place is a lot more like Tokyo. I had no idea it would be this busy or crowded or noisy down here. At least Portuguese is close enough to Spanish that I don't fuck up as bad as I did with French -- most of the time. But I wish you knew Portuguese so you could catch me when I try to jump the creek from the Spanish side and miss.

I'm bitching again. Sorry. It isn't that I hate this place. It really is nice here. At least you talked me out of Rio so we aren't down on the coast where it's hotter and the wind's weaker and the air's muggier. Best of all, the people here are nice. Most of them, anyway.

And they have soccer games almost every day, and you know how I love watching soccer. Hell, I think you like it too. I mean, you don't scream and cheer like an idiot -- like me -- but you seem to enjoy it in your own way. I know you're actually paying attention to the game and following the action because you were able to fill me in when I got back from the bathroom after that guy accidentally dumped his beer on me yesterday.

You've gotta learn not to take those kinds of things so personally. Poor guy. You scared him to death before I calmed you down. And just because you're cussing a gaijin out in Japanese doesn't mean they don't understand what you're saying -- or at least the spirit of it. Besides, a little beer every now and then is good for my hair.

I'll have to ask you what you like about the soccer sometime. I have a feeling that could be an interesting conversation.

-- 4 August 201 --

And we're having fewer meetings now. That's another good thing. Everyone else on the team is so busy doing research and pulling everything together that they don't have time to meet every day. Good as far as I'm concerned. Gives me more time semi-alone with you, even if we are at work.

And it gives us time for the soccer league. I think playing is as much fun as watching, especially with the SP Preventers team. I think most of them have been playing the game since they were old enough to walk. At first I thought they were letting us have a little play time because they were being nice, but yesterday I heard Big Ed and Estevao talking and they think we're actually helping the team. Apparently we work well together. (Duh!) Big Ed was saying that whenever one of us gets the ball and the other is close, it's a sure bet we'll get it downfield between us. Then Estevao said we're so small and maneuverable we can slip through the other team's legs before they know what's happening.

I think they were exaggerating a little, but, hey, it's nice to know they think we're decent players.

-- 9 August 201 --

I am never going to think of the question, "So, when do you think we'll be getting off today?" in quite the same way. Yes, that's me in the margin laughing maniacally.

Your answer, of course, was, "In about half an hour, if my plan works."

"Huh?" I asked, in my least brilliant tone. "What plan?" I mean, it was only noon and we had a full half day ahead of us on the mission plan for the raid if we're gonna make next week.

"The plan that starts with me locking the office door at noon." Which you did. As I was standing there wondering why in Hell you'd be locking us in the office at lunch time, you walked back over to me and began unbuttoning my shirt and pushed me back against the desk.

Well, I may be slow, but I'm not that slow. It wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I asked about "getting off", but who am I to complain? And, I have to admit, I thought we'd tried just about everything, but me sitting on the desk... Well, that was a position I'd never imagined.

You are *so* good, and you know how to play me perfectly. Half an hour was dead on.

Heh. You can pull out that plan again any time you want.

-- 15 August 201 --

Yes! Maxwell and Yuy strike again! We are still the best team on Earth and the Colonies!

Well, okay, maybe I'm overreacting. But I've been aching to *do* something instead of talking about doing something. It's your fault. You got me hooked on actually executing operations again instead of just planning and supervising. Yeah. Surely you remember when you dragged me into the streets of Tokyo to find a nuke not so many weeks ago. That's what did it.

Uh huh. So now you have to live with the monster you've created. Could be worse. I'm sure I'm a lot better in bed than most monsters. Heh.

Anyway, helping the Sao Paulo team crack that knockoff toy ring was great. Of course, the look on your face when you realized some of the toys were Gundam pilot action figures was even better. See -->

No, I didn't know that going into the mission. I don't think the SP team did either. I figure they were worth about a thousand credits to each of us in royalties. Y'know, that licensing deal Howard convinced us all sign has been a good thing. Who'd've thought people would still be interested in Gundam pilots five years after the wars? Hell, they're so interested people are making knockoffs.

The soccer game after was good too. It was a little weird, though. I guess we'd never been to watch a professional game with anyone else, so I never noticed how it works, but, even though the team we were rooting for lost, the guys still had a party after the game. Same as the corporate league we play in.

I guess here in SP, they don't care who wins as long as they can have a party when it's over.

Y'know, there are probably worse approaches to life.

-- 21 August 201 --

I don't think this is the best idea you've ever had, but I'm not going to argue because I said I'd let you be in charge of the travel arrangements. I mean, if the Rejects really are close, then signing on as crew on a freighter out of Rio is probably a great way to lose them. Even if they figure out where we are, they'll have a Hell of a time covering all the ways we could sneak off the ship in port. And it'd be impossible for one of them to get on the ship with us.

Still, I have a bad feeling about this...

-- 26 August 201 --

I was right about that bad feeling. Thank you for saving my ass -- and my hair.

Those assholes Marcao and Cesar have been hounding me about my hair ever since we boarded in Rio and I knew they were going to get drunk and try something. I don't think they wanted to do anything more than harass me and maybe cut off my hair -- mind you, that would have been bad enough -- but I shudder to think what they might have tried drunk as they were and with me not thinking entirely straight from that whack on the head they gave me. I think they suspected we aren't exactly brothers like we hinted we are. Not that we've done anything to give ourselves away.


God, Heero. I'm so horny... Of course, I know you are too, so I'll quit bitching. We're due to dock in two days. Maybe we can find a place in Georgetown, wherever the Hell Georgetown is. That is, if we survive doing our work and the two assholes' work that the captain dumped on us after you broke their legs.

Sorry. Bitching again.

But I'm soooo horny, and soooo tired and I don't know which I want to fix worst. I guess I'll settle for tired because I know I'll feel better after a decent night's sleep -- and since fixing the other would probably cause problems with the rest of the crew.

I've noticed they aren't as, um, open minded as the people we usually hang out with. I guess all those stories about sailors aren't quite true.

-- 30 August 201 --

Thank God for Georgetown, nothing little nowheresville that it is. The three day layover was enough time to recover after unloading the hundred crates of beer and loading the three hundred barrels of palm oil. I know it was harder on you, being teamed with me. You had to carry more than your share of the load.

Oh well, at least we got a day to sneak off to that cheap hotel and rest -- and fuck like bunnies. You are so... so... intense when we don't get to do it for a few days. I mean, it isn't like you aren't passionate and a great lover all the time, but when we've been forced to hold off for a while, you're... different.

I like you both ways, so don't think I'm complaining about one or the other.

I wonder what you think about me in the same situation. I don't know. Maybe you'll tell me when you read this.

-- 6 September 201 --

Don't get me wrong, but I am so, so glad to be on an *airplane* from Caracas to Miami.

You're asleep again, which is fine. It gives me a few minutes to catch up on my journal. Not that there's much to catch up on. The rest of the boat ride was the same as the first -- minus assholes bugging me. Work, eat, go to bed dead tired, tell you I love you, sleep. Work, eat, go to bed dead tired, tell you I love you, sleep. Until the last couple of days, when you can add, "mope about how horny I am" just before the "sleep" part.

And now, I think I'm gonna go to sleep. I'm still horny, but we're both too tired to do anything about it. But first I'm gonna draw you asleep so you can see how beautiful you are when you're asleep. I've always loved seeing you asleep. And drawing you asleep. ... Damn. I'm thinking in circles again I'm so tired. Uh, draw Duo.

There. Done.

I love you, Heero Yuy.

Wake me up when we get to Miami.

-- 12 September 201 --

Mmm. I feel alive again. We've caught up on rest -- and other things.

Me. Wicked, hentai grin. -->

I think I'll order room service so we can have dinner when you get out of the shower. A couple of nice, juicy steaks, I think. Yeah, and a good red wine to go with them.

Hmm. And a Flaming Orgasm San Francisco Style for after. But just one to share. I want us both relatively sober. It's time we figured out just what you did that night at the Razor. Now where did I stash that disk with the video?

Ha. I guess you'll need another shower when we're done. Maybe I'll come help you next time.

-- 17 September 201 --

Well, I knew we'd have to go back to work eventually. The first day was torture, but now it's starting to be fun again. I think I'm gonna survive. And, to be honest, as much as I like a good workout that leaves me tired and a little sore -- yes, those kinds of workouts too, but that's now what I mean, you hentai. Anyway, it's better than working my ass off on a ship every day. But I have to admit, I'm in the best shape of my life after that two weeks.

Is Miami a busy place or what? It seems like everyone is running a thousand miles an hour, twenty-seven hours a day, ten days a week.

At least we're working mostly through email. We're so far out of sync with the rest of the team, now that they've moved to Australia, that I'd be dead if we tried to do more than one live conference a week. Of course, we had to move into Hotel P for security, so we don't get room service anymore.

But I think I like having a kitchen better. I think cooking, or even watching you cooking, is kinda relaxing.

I know. You don't think you're a great cook. Hey, you may not make seven course gourmet meals, but I don't care. You're daring in the kitchen and do things no seven-course-meal guy would ever try, and that's why you come up with amazing things like those hamburgers last night. I have to admit, I was a little skeptical -- well, okay, I thought you were crazy -- when you put those frozen burgers in the pan and peppered them and put soy sauce on them, then added some of my good merlot near the end.

Actually, I was kinda pissed off about the merlot. I know you saw me frowning. I thought it was a waste of good wine. Y'know that *is* a 40 credit bottle of a very nice merlot. Not exactly cooking wine. But then, when I tasted what you'd made with it... Well, you can use my merlot to make burgers any time you want. Uh, well, not too often or I'll lose my perfect figure.

I wish we knew more about these clone cousins of yours.

<-- Me. Slightly frustrated.

I'm beginning to wonder if we're ever going to find them. Certainly not here. My gut tells me they're somewhere out there in the Colonies. So what are we doing running around on Earth?

My brain feels frazzled trying to think about it. We need a break. I need to plan a slightly wild night out for us. That guy Eddie -- Commander Zapata's assistant. I bet he'd know some good places to go.

-- 23 September 201 --

Okay, I expected I'd have to drag you kicking and screaming to the club. I figured I'd be lucky to get you to drink something stronger than soda water. I thought I might, possibly, by some wild combination of persuasion and groping and whining get you out onto the dance floor for a slow dance, maybe two.

So I was mildly surprised -- yes, see that picture of me there, eyebrows up in surprise, jaw hanging open? Okay, so I was more than mildly surprised.

As you were coming out of the shower, I casually mentioned we should go out tonight. Uh, last night. It's tomorrow now, isn't it? Anyway, you just looked up with that bland look of yours and said, "Aa."

I thought you'd misunderstood, but before I could tell you what I meant you'd ducked back into the bedroom and closed the door, so I was desperately rearranging my plans, trying to remember if Eddie had said Puerto Sagua was a good restaurant or a place to avoid at all costs. I should take notes about those kinds of things.

Good thing I was sitting down when you walked out ten minutes later and did your little pirouette, 'cause when I saw those tight black shorts with the fray across the ass and your wings almost completely exposed and that skin-hugger mesh top that makes your chest look more naked than bare skin, I'd've fallen flat on my ass if I hadn't been on it already.

"Do I look okay?" you asked, all innocent.

You fucking idiot. I think you were just teasing me. I think you knew you looked very okay, as always. And then you pulled out my mesh pants. God. Who'd've thought you'd save either outfit? I have to remember to be more careful about indulging my little fantasies in the future.

To Hell with that. I'll indulge all I like as long as you're willing.

Thank you for last night. It was great. I don't know if our little adventure at the Razor loosened you up or what, but you actually had a couple of drinks and I didn't have to fight you for a few dances. Oh, and we need to work on your dancing. I mean, you're okay when it comes to formal stuff, but dancing in a club is a totally different animal. Maybe if you get just a tiny bit drunk next time it'll help.

Of course, you danced divinely when we slipped into that dark booth in the corner. But lip dancing is a completely different kind of dancing too. Mmm. You are one Hell of a kisser, Yuy-sama. At the time, I kinda wished they'd had private rooms like the Razor so we could do more than kiss, but I think I'm glad they didn't.

The best part was watching you explain your wings to all the people who came up asking you for a dance. Okay, so there were only four or five, and I had as many asking me for dances -- you did know they were asking for more than a dance, ne?

Anyway, just knowing that I'm not the only one who thinks you look great and that you don't give a damn about them... Some of them were hot, too. And, yes, I know it wasn't just when I was there to hear. I saw you knee that guy in the groin when I was coming back from the bathroom. I guess he didn't want to take a polite, "No," for an answer.

Well, knowing you'd rather be with me is a real turn on. Not the "I want to screw you silly" turn on. The "I feel so good when I'm with you" turn on. It makes me want to lay in bed and hold you.

Speaking of laying in bed and holding you, I think I'll go do that.

-- 27 September 201 --

Y'know, I've always wanted to drive around in a hot little red convertible. I've especially want to drive around in a hot little red convertible and not have to worry about cops pulling me over for speeding. Hacking into the Preventers' spy satellites with your palm comp was a great idea. Beats any radar or laser detector ever made. I think we'll make Chicago by tomorrow afternoon.

I'm still trying to figure out why you picked Chicago. I mean, it isn't an awful place to be, but it's about the last place I'd've expected you to pick. And I guess that's the point, ne? See, I learn quick. Going from South America to Miami was kinda predictable, so we're doing something unexpected.

Oh well. I'm sure we'll find something to do in Chicago. We have everywhere else we've been.

Hell, if worse comes to worst, we'll walk around downtown just so we can say we did something. Well, something we can tell people about without embarrassing them or us. I may hint a lot, koi, but you know I never actually tell.

-- 2 October 201 --

I don't know why I was worried about us having stuff to keep us busy while we were here. I should have known that the meetings would pick up again when we went somewhere that was almost exactly sixteen hours behind the team. So we're sleeping weird hours, but the traffic going to work isn't bad at 23:00 local, and we get out of the meetings in time for a late lunch every day, so we miss the crowd there too.

Still, do you really think all this is necessary? I mean, I didn't hear much new proposed in the meetings. Actually, I haven't heard anything new for a while, except Takanawa's twice-daily snide remarks about me. She's starting to piss me off, y'know. I mean, super-hacker she may be, but if she tries that to my face I may punch her.

Anyway, we keep going around in circles trying to figure out how to catch the clone we know is somewhere on our tail, but we're running from him. How are we gonna catch him if we're two steps ahead of him? Wouldn't we be smarter to turn around and set a trap for him?

Hmm. I need to think about that for a while. But later. You're almost done reading your report -- you always sit back in your chair when you get to the last screen -- and I think I'm gonna arrange myself in bed.

I guess that's another little cue we've learned from each other. Whenever you lay there with your back to me, I know you want me to lay next to you and hold you. And whenever I lay on my back with my right leg bent at the knee, you know that means I want you to come sprawl across me and hold me.

-- 10 October 201 --

We're leaving tomorrow, so I wanted to take a few minutes to write about the house before we leave. It was, of course, your idea, and I have to admit that I was kinda pissed off because you'd picked out this boring house tour without asking me if I'd be interested. But we've been so busy here we've barely been able to make it to the gym, and I really wanted to be able to say we'd done something in Chicago besides work and eat and sleep... and "sleep", so I went with you. Bitching about how boring it was gonna be, but I went.

Am I ever glad I did?!

I didn't really hear what the guide was saying at the front door. We were at the back of the group and I... Well, damn it, I was looking at your ass because you were wearing your tightest pair of jeans and were shifting from leg to leg making it move in that sexy way you do. Tease.

Then we walked into the entry hall, and I forgot your ass.

Well, I'll never forget it completely, but I did get distracted trying to figure out where the gold and blue light was coming from. It was beautiful -- soft gold like wheat, blue the color of your eyes -- but I couldn't see any lamps or anything. I guess I spent nearly a minute looking around before I noticed you watching me, flicking little glances upward, so, finally, I looked up and saw the skylight.

Heero, I know this is probably going to amaze you, but I've never really seen stained glass before. Oh, Father Maxwell's church had a window -- a Pieta, I think. But there was another building not ten feet behind it, so it was always dark. I saw grungy old paintings that weren't as drab and hard to see as that window was.

But this... This was alive. I suddenly realized what that window of Father Maxwell's might have looked like if the light had ever shone through it. And it hurt, because it's gone and it's my fault and I'll never know what it was really supposed to look like, and damn it, why is it that the beautiful things are what get destroyed and the ugly are left alone? The UESA troops wiped out the church, but left the damn warehouse in all its unsightly, dingy decrepitude. Maybe that's why I draw -- to try to replace a little of the beauty I destroyed.

Maybe that's why I sort of made you my little project when I read that poem you wrote about the cherry trees in the park. I hope that doesn't make you mad. I know I'm glad I did, because I think we'd both be dead by now if I hadn't. Even if we'd survived, I know we never would've ended up together if I hadn't.

Then I saw you looking at me like I was a little off. I guess you could tell what I was thinking about -- in general, at least -- because you walked back to me and wiped the tear away just as it slipped out of my eye and said, "There are more," in your quiet, steady, "I'm here with you" voice. And you put your arm around my waist, and smiled that little smile of yours that always makes me melt and feel strong at the same time.

I don't think you planned it. I don't think you could have known how I would react. But you were happy because you'd shown me something new and beautiful.

I was too. Thank you, koi. I'm sorry I was such a bitch before.

You led me to where the rest of the tour group was listening to the guide-chick explain how the... "The hearth is the heart of the house," was how she put it.

Maybe so. But the windows and skylights and the things they did with the sunlight -- they were its soul and spirit.

-- 11 October 201 --

I am *not* a dangerous driver. I've been watching you today and you've been driving faster than I was on the way up to Chicago. And tires are *not* supposed to squeal around every turn, regardless of what Dr. J might have taught you.

But I don't mind riding. It gives me a chance to read my books on stained glass and the house in Chicago and to try some designs of my own. I'm glad we got the e-books. I can zoom in on details and see exactly what's going on.

Y'know, when we settle down one of these days, I'm going to design all the windows. And we have to have that hot tub too. I'm not gonna forget that, y'know.

And, have you ever noticed how you're so focused when you're driving. Almost as focused as when you're making love.

-- 13 October 201 --

Yes, as a matter of fact, I think this stained glass thing *is* my new obsession. But don't worry. I'm keeping you. You think I'd get rid of you after I had your name etched onto my ass?

Y'know, Phoenix is nice, in an arid sort of way. I could see staying here for a while, but we'll be in San Diego by tomorrow evening. Maybe we can come back here and visit for a while one day.

But right now, I think I'm going to show you several of your advantages over glass, not the least of which is that you're a lot warmer, not as brittle, and glass holding me wouldn't feel near as good as you.

-- 16 October 201 --

The only problem with San Diego is, it's the wrong season for whale watching. I really would've liked to spend a couple of days out on the ocean watching waves and whales. I dunno. I think it makes me remember Howard's ship at the beginning of the war when life was Hell, but a Hell of a lot simpler. Maybe we can rent a couple of horses and spend a day horseback riding along the beach.

Maybe next weekend.

-- 30 October 201 --

Heero Yuy, you're a genius.

The last two weeks have been brutal. Takanawa has been riding my ass worse than usual. We didn't even get to stop for the weekends. Then, just as I'm dreading getting out of bed again, you haul me out from under the sheets and tell me to start packing. I almost decked you, y'know. Especially when you dragged me onto that bus to Tijuana.

I'm glad I didn't. And I'm glad you surprised me and wouldn't tell me what you were up to, even if I did fume for a while. I really do like surprises, even if I don't realize it while I'm waiting to find out.

I figured we were going to play tourist in Tijuana for a day, but then, still without explaining what you were up to, we hopped another bus down to Ensenada. I'm guessing you've been checking out the tourist bureau sites on the Net again. Anyway, a nice horseback ride into the mountains, and now here we are camping out in the middle of nowhere, just the two of us -- well, the horses too, but they don't count.

Exactly the kind of break I need.

-- 4 November 201 --

Tuesday. Heh. Hope you don't mind-- No. I think I'll try to remember exactly what we said. I think when we read this a year from now, or whenever, that will make it all the more fun.

Let's see, I was laying in my sleeping bag, about twenty seconds from really falling asleep when I heard you sit up and say -- no, shout, "I am such a fucking idiot!"

I remember thinking I'd been saying that about you ever since this whole thing started. But that night all I said was, "Huh?" I'm not the most articulate person on the planet when I'm mostly asleep. Actually, I'm almost never particularly articulate, but I'm worse when I'm mostly asleep.

"There is only one place to start looking for the Rejects."

That's good, I thought, so I said it. "That's good." And I yawned. Okay, so it took me a few seconds to figure out what you were saying. "Where?" You were starting to get my attention.

"Dr. J."

Now that wasn't what I was expecting to hear. I checked to make sure I hadn't misheard you, then I said, "Uh, Hee-koi, Dr. J is a 'who', not a 'where'."

"Aa. We need to find him."

I almost shuddered when I heard you say that. Not that I'm afraid of Dr. J. No, it was your voice. That "mission" voice. I could just hear our little vacation disappearing. "Okay," I mumbled. "But can we wait until tomorrow?" I knew that tone. I knew I'd be lucky if you didn't throw me over the saddle and drag me back to San Diego that night to catch the next shuttle to wherever you thought Dr. J might be hiding. I hoped you'd have pity on me if I played sleepy.

Then you did your classic Heero Yuy thing. Exactly what I didn't expect. "Aa. We can wait until Tuesday morning."

"Tuesday? That's good." I was sure I must have heard you wrong, but wrong -- I mean, that was your original plan, to stay three nights and head back on Tuesday. But if you didn't correct me, I wasn't going to argue. So when I heard you unzipping your sleeping bag, I figured you were about to get me up and load me onto the horse for the ride back to Ensenada.

I was right about everything except the horse and the destination. Me laughing -->

When you unzipped my bag and zipped yours into it and slipped in beside me... Well, what was I supposed to say? "Is this a hint?" Dumb, considering where you'd put your hand and what it was doing.

From what I've read, most guys, gay or straight, consider themselves lucky if they get laid three or four times a week. For us, that's an average weekend. I don't know why were both always as horny as a pair of seventeen-year-olds, but I think I mostly like it.

"A hint would be more subtle, ne?" Sometimes, you say such profound things. Yes, a hint would have been infinitely more subtle. Your hand was about as subtle as Wing's beam cannon from ten paces. I think that's another one of those Heero things I like. You know when I don't give a damn about subtlety.

Mmmmm. I love you Heero Yuy. And not just because you're good in bed and sexy as Hell, but because you don't mind that sometimes things don't go like you plan. And now that I've thought about it, I'm sure you don't mind a bit that we didn't start back to Ensenada until Wednesday afternoon.

Late afternoon.

Hn. We're almost back to San Diego, so I'll wrap up for-- Did I just write, "Hn"? Damn. Next thing you know I'll be running around saying, "Omae o korosu."

-- 06 November 2001 --

I have a bad feeling I'm not going to have much time to write for a while.


It seems weird to write that because it was just a few hours ago, but when you read this...

We were walking through the train station in Dallas when you did those two little clicks you use to get my attention over the comm. If I haven't told you before, that was a good idea you came up with. It's so multipurpose. Kinda like some of the things you say. (Yes, that's chibi-you in the margin saying, "Omae o korosu." And chibi-me spouting hearts and making eyes at you.) And then you kissed me and pulled me close and I thought you were just feeling like a little hold until you whispered, "Mirror," in my ear.

Well, I knew something serious was up. I glanced at the mirror, doing my best to move my eyes quickly and at the same time burn the picture into my brain as if I was going to draw it later.

"Should we rent a car or take the bus to the hotel?"

Oh, you said it casually, but I know you well enough that I could hear the emphasis on "rent a car". I let the picture play out in my head, drawing it in my mind. Then I saw him. "You" standing near a bush beside the yellow car rental place, watching us. I almost said, "Damn it all to Hell," but I know you can read lips, so I was pretty sure he could, so I restrained myself and just said, "Bus." But I thought it a few dozen times as we walked to catch the shuttle bus to the hotel.

The good thing about knowing a language like Japanese is that not many people outside Japan speak it, so when two people know Japanese, like we do, we can talk in private in the middle of a crowd and make our plans without worrying about people eavesdropping.

Anyway. Now you're catching a quick nap on the bed after we mussed it up so the room would look lived in. I like mussing up the bed with you. And I've got a few days worth of clothes and some shampoo and stuff repacked into a gym bag so when we sneak out later to catch the city bus to the airport it won't be obvious that we're leaving. The rest of our bags are tagged so the hotel might actually send 'em to the local Preventers HQ so we have a chance of getting our stuff back.

I don't know how you can sleep at a time like this. I guess it's something they programmed into you. Get sleep when you can because you never know when you'll be able to get sleep later. I'm so wound up right now I couldn't sleep if my life depended on it. I guess that's one of the ways we're different. Still, I wish--

Huh? Two clicks? So how long have you been laying there watching me? Are you about to tell me it's time to go? I guess I'm ready. I--

Baka. Yes, I'll come hold you for a while.

You always know exactly what I need.

-- 30 November 201 --

It is amazing what three days of real rest can do for a guy after three weeks of traveling Hell. Well, okay, so we didn't just rest, but that could be part of rest, right? I mean, we were in the bed for that too, ne? Mostly.

Okay, so it was rest and recreation. Heh.

Let's see... I stopped counting flights booked after thirty. I stopped counting intentionally missed flights after seven. I know we missed three by accident. At least, I think we missed them by accident. Twenty fake names, forty hotels -- of which we stayed overnight in exactly two, if leaving at 04:00 qualifies as overnight -- eight trains, six buses, four continents, and two rental cars.

And the whole time I'm thinking, "Why the Hell are we running from the guy we want to catch?"

That is my version of the last three weeks. I imagine you could tell me everything in detail, but I don't think I really want to know.

Still, there are worse places to be in December -- well, close enough -- than Fiji. Hell, there are worse places to be anytime than Fiji. And that cheap hotel we stayed at in... was it Montreal or San Salvador? Anyway, it had one of those vibrating beds, and I've always wanted to try one of those. It was fun, but you give a better massage. So I guess it wasn't all Hell.

Um... Fiji. Warm, quiet, and, most important, we're going to stay here for a few more days.

-- 6 December 201 --

Bless you, Heero Yuy, koibito.

Yes, I can stand to stay here until we go to the meeting in Sydney, especially if we spend it like we have the past week. I think tomorrow I'd like us to walk along the beach and look for shells and watch the waves and skinny-dip when it gets too hot and sit under a palm tree on the beach and watch the stars come out. I have a feeling you'll agree.

But right now, I'm going to add a few more sketches of you to this chronicle of our travels and travails. I love drawing you asleep and I love drawing you nude. Now I get to do both.

It's funny how I can look at you and draw you naked and not get all horny. I mean, yeah, we haven't had any shortage of sex since we got here, but still, I usually just have to think about you and I get at least a little aroused. Here I am looking at you, studying your body to draw it, which means I'm paying close attention to all the details. And it isn't like I find you less beautiful, just... It's different. Later, maybe I'll look at the sketches and they'll get me stirred up, but right now--

Who cares? You're a great partner. You're a great friend. You're a great companion. You're a great model for my drawings. You have a great body. You're great in bed. I love you. I don't know what else I could ask for.

Hmm... I definitely think this one needs a pair of white wings sprouting from the shoulders...

-- 14 December 201 --


The flight wasn't too bad, but the meeting... Well, you know I hate meetings on general principle. At least we weren't seriously screwed up time-zone-wise coming from Fiji. And Sydney HQ is pretty damn nice. I know why the team decided to move their efforts down here -- besides the fact that it's more secure than the Tokyo office, if you can believe that.

Une, though. She worries me sometimes. Like when you told her about needing to find Dr. J and she said they'd all disappeared, then, "But I tracked them down once. I can do it again." Did you see the way she smiled when she said that? I know the shrinks say she has her head together, and I know she's our boss, but, damn, sometimes she gives me the creeps.

Makes me glad she's on our side now. I think.

And what is it with Takanawa? Have you seen the way she looks at you? Either she's trying to put a move on you, which I know she isn't because I'm sure she caught my comment about your pretty ass, way back when we were in Tokyo. Seems like a long time ago now, doesn't it? And if she didn't, the fact that you walk around with your arm around my waist all the time -- or your hand on my back -- has to be a dead giveaway.

Not that I'm complaining. I like you touching me.

Um, anyway, either she's trying to put a move on you or she thinks she knows you from somewhere, and I don't just mean reading your file. "Yadda yadda elliptical space yadda yadda Fermat's last theorem yadda yadda kindergarten math problem yadda yadda." Like anyone was going to understand that. Except you. And she knew it.

And, this is a scary thought, you have a Hell of a lot better bedside manner. No, I'm talking about that. I'm talking about the time you took care of me after you busted me out of prison. She's just all business. Damn bitch. Acting like I was being difficult when she shoved that probe against my jaw and I pulled away. "I have a present for you," she said. "Hold him," she said, like she thought you'd do anything she told you. "Upgrading the encryption in your comm system," she said.

When you stepped between us, I thought you were gonna deck her. That's why I grabbed your back belt loop. I mean, if anyone's gonna knock her flat and get his ass kicked for it, it's gonna be me. You didn't, but I saw that glare. Your eyes were so cold I was looking for icicles sprouting from the ceiling. That's why I slipped a finger under your shirt to touch your wings. I haven't figured out why yet, but when you're mad and I touch them, it calms you down. I guess maybe it reminds you of me.

If she'd just told me she wanted to upgrade the comm to begin with... "Yadda yadda randomized key pattern yadda yadda." Looking at me, but talking to you like I wasn't even there. There was something wrong about the way she was looking at me, though. It just didn't fit. I don't know what her fucking problem is.

Oh, I give up. Do I sound like an incredibly jealous lover? <sigh> I guess I do. I know you aren't interested in her, but just the way she focuses on you gets me going. No. Enough of her. I'm not going to let her ruin my evening.

Y'see, I saw that little smile on your face after she left. Maybe you like me acting jealous about you as much as I like you acting jealous about me. I hope so, because I am, and tonight I'm going to make sure you have absolutely no reason to be interested in her at all.


You've run downstairs to get the pizza, so I'm going to add a quick note here.

That was a pretty good explanation of the "randomized key pattern yadda yadda". I just did the math on your palm comp and came up with almost 240 years to crack it based on what you told me. And you settled for my, "so we'll be collecting our pensions" answer without telling me the precise time down to the minute. I think you're turning into an almost normal person. Which is scary -- in a good way, y'know.

Anyway, now it's time to get ready for your little surprise. Today *is* the day we chose to call your birthday, and I'm gonna give you your favorite present. ... If I can just remember where I hid that bow from Reykjavik...

-- 15 December 201 --

So we're off to the Colonies after New Year's. I think I'll miss Earth.

Funny to say, isn't it?

I guess that, from Earth, space has a sense of mystery about it. Not just because you can't see all the stars like you can in space, but because it's safe. I mean, if you're standing in a field on Earth looking up at the stars, you don't really have anything to worry about. You can hold your lover and kiss him and even make love if you want. You don't have to be aware of space.

When you're out there, you're always aware of it or you're dead. Always on the lookout for a rock or a piece of junk that could snag your suit or cut your tether. Always keeping track of where you are and where you're going and how much air you have left. And touching is completely out of the question.

Yeah, I know the Colonies are safer than a spacesuit, and you can touch and all, but I still have this nagging little worry in the back of my mind. Not just the ones we saw destroyed or almost destroyed during the war, but, remember the L3 expansion in 197? The day before they opened the new segment, some idiot reporter trying to get a better shot crashed a shuttle into it. Luckily he and his crew were the only ones killed. If that had been two days later...

At least we're going to be doing something instead of running from the Rejects. I think that's a change for the better. I think running from them was one of the less brilliant ideas I've ever had.

Anyway, to the Colonies. Y'know, I guess it isn't all bad. I've always wanted to try making love in zero-G. Could be interesting.

-- 17 December 201 --

Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Why didn't I think of that. I knew... Damn. Gotta go.

-- 25 December 201 --

What a wonderful way to spend Christmas. Hopping planes around the world. Oh, yes, please, more, and can I have some razor wire underwear too please.

Yeah, right. Look at this and tell me you can't see the sarcasm in my face. -->

Damn, Heero. I'm sorry I didn't think to have them stop the mail. Well, I guess I shouldn't start at the end. I'm sure you'll remember, but... Let's see...

I was in the shower. You know how I love standing in the shower, feeling the warm water running over my body while the shampoo rinses out of my hair. It's my favorite feeling in the world. Except for you holding me. Or making love to me. Or when we're sitting at lunch and you nudge me under the table and I glance up to see that look on your face. You know the look. Here, I'll draw it just to be sure.

I don't even have to glance up. I know it's gonna be there, but I like seeing it. And then there's--

Um... Ok, so warm water in the shower isn't my *favorite* feeling in the world. But it's my favorite feeling that doesn't involve you somehow. How's that? ... Uh, except the warm springs in Iceland... But that was warm water too! So it's basically the same, right?

I'll just pretend it is, even if you think I'm crazy.

Anyway, standing in the shower, warm water, rinsing my hair. Yeah. And then I heard the shower curtain rustle and felt cool air blow in, heard you step into the tub and close the curtain. Felt you put your arms around me.

I like your arms. They're strong and hard and comfortable, all at the same time. I know they could probably crush my ribs with only a little effort, but they're always gentle, warm, soft with me. God, I love you, Heero Yuy.

Hmm. I'm maudlin. Not surprising. Here it is, Christmas and we're stuck on a plane going I don't know where. I hope you do. And you're asleep now -- I mean, really asleep because you're so tired from all the running this past week. I should be asleep too, but I'm going to catch this damn journal up, even if I have to get one of the flight attendants to take dictation for me.

Uh, shower. You were holding me. You laid your head against the side of my neck. Your right hand slid down my side, around to my ass. Your hands-- No. I'm not going to get sidetracked on them. I'll just sketch them real quick.

Okay, so I was wondering what the Hell was up. I mean, we take showers together often enough and even play around in the shower sometimes, but I know you still remember the one time we did try it in a shower/tub combo and I sprained my ankle and you nearly broke your arm and we decided that, while we might try almost anything once, there were some things where once was enough.

Ah, but horny me. I turned around and grabbed your ass -- your perfect, sweet, firm... Uh, and I picked you up so we were eye to eye. You slid your slender legs up mine, wrapping them around my waist like a vise. You leaned toward me, pulling your face against mine, and I have to admit, at that point, I didn't give a damn about slipping. I was ready to lean you against the wall and...

"We may have a problem," you said.

At first I thought it was a joke. "I can help you with that problem." That's what I was going to say, but I only made it to "you". I saw the glare and leaned back. It took me a few seconds to gauge it.

Definitely not happy. Not quite "blow 'em all to Hell" pissed off. Not my fault. I was glad about that last point.

You pulled close again. "Is there a way to mark a postcard so it can be traced?"

Well, I was kind of pissed off that you were more interested in the mail than in me, but I knew it must be important. I also knew you weren't talking about certified-return-receipt-requested. "Tracker chips." I'd used them before in Tokyo. It was my idea, too. Well, actually I got the idea when you told me how PaxAC used them to track packages.

"Damn! Under the stamp." The look on your face. Here. -->

Yeah, that bad. I sure as Hell was glad you didn't think it was my fault. I think even a dead blind bat could have seen something was up. Never let it be said I'm that blind.

But I felt that blind when you told me Tokyo HQ had forwarded us a postcard from Hong Kong. "It says, 'Missing you. See you soon.'" Which had me wondering if someone had slipped something into your food. Then you added the little detail. "In my handwriting."

I spent about ten seconds trying to figure out why you'd've sent yourself a postcard when we were in Hong Kong. Or when you'd had a chance to since all I remember about Hong Kong is a mad dash from one end of the airport to the other and the plane's door closing before we were in our seats.

Then I realized that was the point. You hadn't. "Oh shit." Mr. Eloquence, me.

Y'know, one of the things I love about you is you usually don't get on my case when I do something stupid -- like not thinking to have HQ check the mail for bugs. I wonder if you see I dump enough blame on myself for both of us. And another thing I love about you is that you know when I need you to give in. Like not rushing us out immediately. Giving me time to work off a little stress. Of course, you did too.

That was one of the most intense two hours we've ever spent making love. I lost track of who did what how many times. It was like we hadn't done it in weeks, which was definitely not the case. I guess it was the anticipation of another round of traveling Hell.

It's been worse than the first time. I guess in part because of the time of year.

So now I'm depressed and horny and missing Christmas and have no hope of getting anywhere I can do anything about any of them anytime soon. Sigh. I think it's time to turn out the reading light and snuggle up next to you and wish we were naked in bed together instead of dressed and sleeping in plane seats. Still, I'd rather be next to you this way than not at all.

Maybe that's what Christmas should be about. Not all the noise and eating and partying and presents, but the quiet time you spend with the people you love, telling them and showing them that you love them.

... ... Yeah. ... ... I think I feel better now.

Y'know, Heero Yuy, when all this is over I think I'm gonna ask you to marry me. Well, not the full ceremony and mess. And I don't care if we have a piece of paper or not. I want it to be just us in our jeans and shirts and maybe Quatre and Trowa because they'd want to be there. And probably Relena too, because I think she'd want to be there too. And we'll stand together in Sleuth Wood in a faery ring and promise we'll always love each other and always stay together no matter how angry we get sometimes. And we'd give each other rings or something. It doesn't have to be a ring. I'd take you at your word, y'know.

I think I'm going to draw what it'd look like.


Oyasumi, koibito.

-- 2 January 202 --


I have to say it again.


And I have to snicker too. That was one Hell of a New Year's Eve celebration. And we weren't even in New York.

In fact, it started in Memphis -- in North America, not Egypt. I could tell even you were disappointed that all we got to do was watch the ball drop on that dinky vid in the airport and kiss. Cheesy airport news channel only gave us ten seconds of video and voiced over the whole thing so you couldn't hear what was going on.

Mmmm. But what a kiss it was. Mmmmm. Let me remember it for a minute more. Mmmm.

Uh, I was in seriously bad shape and was just about to pull away from your delicious tongue and suggest we go find an empty stall in the restroom. Hey, there aren't that many people in *any* airport at midnight on New Year's Eve, especially not in Memphis. Then that damned gate attendant -- at least she didn't make eyes at you. I haven't figured out what it is with you and female airline personnel. Anyway, she called our flight.

Which was when I realized it was five minutes after midnight. Mmm. Let me remember that kiss a bit more.

Okay. So while I was busy noticing a couple of people with raised eyebrows and a couple of others smiling knowing smiles -- including the gate attendant -- you leaned forward and whispered, "Restroom?"

I think I would have fallen on the floor if you hadn't been holding me. Do you know how unnerving it is when you pull one of your little mind-reading acts on me? Don't stop. I like it when you're bad like that. Yes, that's me with my hentai grin over in the margin. I just... It's just weird when you do that.

Anyway, I was the good boy and said, "We'll miss the flight."

Then you were the *very* bad boy and said, "Aa. And?"

And... We were the only people getting on the plane in Memphis, and we'd already checked in, so they'd've noticed if we missed the flight. Considering how the gate attendant was smiling when I looked up, she probably would've held the flight for us. I shudder to think how she would have explained the delay.

Besides, if I'd had to listen to that damned Memphis song on the vid again, I'm sure I'd've started shooting people. I don't know what drugs the Memphis Chamber of Commerce was on when they had it made, but that song should have been illegal on Earth and all the Colonies.

I said, "We'll miss the flight," again.

<-- Do you have any idea how disappointed you looked? I almost took it back, but you put on your "mission" face and nodded.

So when we dragged onto the plane and there were only half a dozen other passengers on the plane and the flight attendant guy said they were giving everyone free upgrades to first class (so he didn't have to walk from one end of the plane to the other a dozen times during the flight, no doubt), I didn't think you knew what I was up to when I said, "No thanks. I think we're both tired. We'll sit in the back so everyone else can party. You can just ignore us." But I think you got a clue when I made sure the reading lights were off as I led us all the way to the last row.

Actually, I'm sure you did, because you were faking sleep -- not very well because I could tell -- when he came back fifteen minutes after takeoff to ask if he could get us anything. I wanted to tell him, "Yeah, gone so we can go to the lavatory," but I kept playing the good boy and said, "No thanks. Just close the curtain and we'll be fine until we get to Vancouver."

Well, that was okay by him. He wasn't going to have to do anything to keep us happy. But there was something about the way he smiled that bothered me. And I guess I was right.

I didn't get a chance to think about it, though. About two seconds after he pulled the curtain you had both our seatbelts unfastened and were working on my zipper. Damn, when you're horny, you're horny as Hell.

Don't ever change that, by the way.

It was everything I could do to convince you to back off long enough to get into the lavatory, which was all of three steps behind us. Of course, I probably wasn't doing a great job convincing because I didn't really want you to stop.

I'm just glad your internal clock warned you three hours later. We barely made it back to our seats before the curtain opened. I waved at the flight attendant chick -- who looked familiar -- so she'd know I had seen the seatbelt sign and she didn't need to come back to check on us. I was still trying to get my shirt tucked in and buttoned and make sure my hair wasn't a total wreck, so I didn't want her to do a close inspection.

I was still in a bit of a daze as we staggered up the aisle after landing, and a bit cramped, and I hoped there weren't wet spots on my jeans. I never realized airplane lavatories were so dinky. It's a good thing we're both small. Well, *you* know what I mean. I'm not complaining, okay?

"Did you have a nice flight?" I heard the flight attendant chick asked. She held out her hand and I glanced at her as I automatically shook it and felt her press a piece of paper and something else into mine. I palmed it into my pocket, wondering what it was. Mr. Flight Attendant was standing beside her grinning like a cat who'd swallowed a whole flock of canaries.

Of course, you were perky for some reason and chirped, "Excellent." Yes, chirped. And, yes, I was awake enough catch that smug little smile on your face. -->

Anyway, I was walking up the ramp with you behind me when I realized where I'd seen the flight attendant who shook our hands. She'd been the gate attendant in Memphis. And I remember thinking, But if Une wanted to send us a message, she'd've used Takanawa's private network with the yadda yadda super encryption crap that only you understood. Unless that's been compromised. Which thought made me feel a little sick to my stomach.

And that's when you asked, "Is the 'Mile High Club' some kind of frequent flyer program? I don't remember hearing about it before."

"Huh?" I asked, ever my eloquent self. I looked back and saw you pinning that pair of gold plastic wings on your jacket collar and suddenly realized what you'd said.

I know I turned red. I could feel it. But I wanted to laugh at the same time, because sometimes we can both be so stupid. I hadn't realized we were that obvious.

Sure enough, when I pulled the piece of paper she'd given me out of my pocket and unfolded it. It was just a piece of airline stationery. A pair of plastic wings like they give to kids was inside it, and someone who knew a little bit about calligraphy had written, "This certifies that the bearer is a member of the Mile High Club. 01 January AC202. North American Airlines, Flight 983. Memphis to Vancouver."

You still had no clue and I really didn't want to explain right then. I decided, what the Hell, pinned my wings on my collar and said, "I'll explain after we get to Kansai and have a night's sleep behind us. And if we don't hurry, we're gonna miss our connection to San Francisco."

Oh well, at least we provided some amusement for the cabin crew. And us too, ne? I think I'll leave a little space here so I can add in what your face looks like when I tell you what the Mile High Club is all about.

-- 14 January 202 --

I don't know why you were surprised to find there are no direct flights from Madagascar to Santiago. It isn't like either one is a major transportation hub for world air travel. And I still don't have any more of a clue about why Une wants us there than you do, but we'll be leaving tomorrow morning.

And even though we've been here for a week, I'm glad you told her we'd be there in three days instead of two, so we could have one more day here. I'd always wanted to see lemurs in the wild like we did today. I got some nice sketches. Did I mention lemurs in my ramblings some time or did you just happen to book us on that little nature hike by chance? Once, I never would have doubted that you had a plan, but over the past couple of years, I've seen you grow more spontaneous about some things.

I like that.

Not that I don't like you planning things, but... When you do things -- fun things -- on a whim, you get this look on your face. It's like the look I see when we're making love slowly and you're letting me be in charge -- I remember how hard that was for you the first few times. Now, I think you've learned to really enjoy it.

Or when we're in bed, just holding each other, touching -- but just touching, not moving toward sex.

It's like the look on your face that day in Iceland when we were splashing each other in the warm springs. That free look. The child look. The angel look.

I want to spend a few minutes drawing it. With wings, I think.


And then, I'm going to come to bed and hold you so I can see it for real.


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