"Where should I put Mr. Maxwell, sir?"
Nicklaus asked, sidling in the front door of Wufei's apartment with Duo in his
arms.
"In bed, thanks," Wufei replied tiredly, limping over to the sofa
and easing himself down to sit. Sally's examination had been thorough... and
painful. She wasn't a sadist, so he was almost certain she hadn't done it
on purpose, but it was hard not to feel resentful when his knee and the back of
his head were throbbing in time to his heartbeat, and his shoulderblade was
sending stabs of pain through him every time he moved.
"Here," Leah said;
he opened his eyes to see her holding out a glass of water and some pills, and
grimaced.
"I don't--"
"Doctor's orders," she interrupted.
"Major Po said, 'Take them or else'."
"Or else what?"
"Or else she
will exercise her ingenuity to make sure you regret acting like a masochistic
idiot. Apparently she thinks you have a nasty tendency to undermedicate
yourself."
"I'm surprised she trusted me to give Duo his pills,
then," Wufei snarled.
"She also said that you look after everybody
else first and best, and only neglect yourself," Leah replied, unperturbed.
"Shut up and take them, Chang. I wouldn't risk annoying her."
"And
of course you'll tell her if I don't," he muttered sulkily, fully aware that he
sounded childish but unable to stop.
"Make my life easier, okay? Take the
pills. That way I don't have to decide whether or not to turn you in."
He
sighed. "Fine. Give them here."
As Leah was taking the empty glass back
to the kitchen, Nicklaus came out of the bedroom. "He's still fast asleep, sir,"
he reported, smiling. "I've got that video disk I promised you; where would you
like it?"
What-- oh. That. "Just put it next to the
computer. I'll get to it later."
"If you need anything, sir, you know you
can call me or Ninke or Karl and we'll take care of it."
"I'll keep that
in mind, thank you. Ah... do the three of you pool your information and
resources?" Wufei asked tentatively.
Nicklaus grinned. "Oh, yes sir. And
it's not just the three of us; the whole family work together. Have a nice
day!"
"Be seeing you, Chang," Leah said, heading for the
door.
----------
"You wouldn't object to a couple of slight
detours on the way back to HQ, would you, McKenzie?" Nicklaus asked casually as
he buckled his seatbelt.
"That depends," she replied. "Where and
why?"
"The Foreign Ministry, and the local branch of Winner Enterprises,"
he said, pulling another couple of video disks out of his pocket and grinning at
her. "Like I told Chang, the Assink family members share all their
information."
----------
Wufei levered himself painfully up off
the sofa and limped across to sit in front of the vidphone, tapping in a code
one-handed.
<<Winner Enterprises, Executive Switchboard--
oh, good afternoon, Mr. Chang!>> The receptionist smiled, then looked down
slightly and gasped, one hand going to her mouth. <<Oh dear! Are you all
right, sir?>>
"I'll live," he said wryly, glancing down at his
empty sleeve and the shirt bulging over his strapped-up arm. "It's not serious,
just annoying. Are Quatre and Trowa free?"
<<Mr. Barton is in a
meeting with Mr. Assink, sir, but Mr. Winner is in his office,>> she said,
glancing to one side, <<and... his line is free. Shall I put you
through?>>
"Please."
<<Get well soon, sir!>>
*click*
<<Good afternoon, Wufei,>> Quatre said
cheerfully, appearing on screen. <<How are you and Duo? You saw Sally this
morning, didn't you?>>
"We're fine," Wufei replied. "Duo's asleep;
Sally says he's doing all right."
<<That's good, but what did she
say about you?>> the blond boy asked shrewdly. <<I think she
was more concerned about you than Duo on Sunday.>>
Wufei suppressed
a grimace, remembering some of Sally's caustic comments as she'd looked at his
x-rays. "You just love nearly getting crippled, don't you? If he'd hit you a
little more to the left, he would have broken your spine, and if you put too
much strain on that shoulder you could still do yourself permanent damage.
Don't. "The usual. She's just annoyed because I wouldn't let her
strap me down and x-ray me then."
Quatre didn't look convinced, but at
least he had the good manners not to call Wufei a liar to his face.
<<Well, as long as you're both getting better. Is there anything I can do
for you? Anything at all?>>
"Actually... yes," the Chinese boy said
reluctantly.
* * * * *
As Trowa stepped out of Ninke's office, he
was nearly knocked down as Quatre barrelled out of his own room next
door.
"Oh! Trowa!" Quatre said happily. "You've finished?"
Trowa
nodded, holding up a disk. "We've worked out the last set of proposed changes to
the secretarial procedures. Want to see?"
"Um, yes, but not right now.
I'm going shopping, want to come?"
*blink*blink*
"Shopping?"
"For Wufei and Duo!" Quatre explained, heading for the
corridors. "Duo needs underwear and stuff, and they're running out of milk, and
Wufei isn't in any shape to go himself even if he doesn't want to admit it, so
he called me. Oh, and he also asked if I could send a maid over, to help him
tidy up around the apartment and do dishes and laundry and stuff, but I figure I
can do that too..." His voice faded as he turned a corner, gaining
speed.
Trowa stood frozen for a moment, mind racing as he considered
Quatre, and household chores, and tried to make the two pictures overlap; then
he shoved the disk in to Ninke's hand and bolted after his
lover.
----------
"Quatre, I don't think Duo needs those
leather pants."
"But they'd look so good on him!"
"They're hardly
convalescent clothes. Besides, he needs to gain a lot of weight. If they fit him
now, they won't fit him once he's better; and if they don't fit him now,
why buy them?"
"...Later, then."
"*sigh* Yes,
Quatre."
After Quatre had raided a couple more stores with the same
efficiency and intensity he'd displayed raiding OZ bases during the war, Trowa
was eyeing the growing number of bags with trepidation.
"Exactly what did
Wufei ask you to get, Quatre?"
"Socks and underwear," Quatre replied
absently, holding up two sweatshirts and comparing the colours. "But Duo needs a
lot more than that."
I'm glad this notion didn't hit him when
we were looking for Duo's Christmas present, Trowa thought privately.
...Actually, it probably did, but he would have resisted because he
wouldn't have wanted to embarrass Wufei and Duo with a huge present. Now he's
been asked to shop for Duo, and he's just... expanding on his
orders.
Quatre dropped both sweatshirts on the counter, on top of the
pile of other sweatshirts, and headed for the T-shirt racks. "Do you
think he'd like this one?" he asked, holding up a shirt that read 'Welcome to
Hell! Now GO HOME'.
"Quatre," Trowa said cautiously, "I don't think he
really needs all--"
"Yes he does," Quatre interrupted,
quiet but intense. "He's got nothing, Trowa. I can't make all the bad
things in his past go away, and I can't just snap my fingers and have him
forgive us, but I can get him this stuff. And maybe he'll get mad at me,
but if he does I'll apologise. I'm not going to leave him with nothing to wear
except Wufei's workout clothes just because he might yell at me. I'll be
glad if he yells at me, actually, it'll be better than being
ignored..."
There was a slight pause; then Trowa smiled. "He likes band
T-shirts too, you know."
* * * * *
"Ooh! They're
new..."
"Where?"
"Over there." The glasses-wearing cashier jerked
her chin towards the ranks of shopping trolleys.
"Oh, wow. That blond guy
is cute!"
"I like the tall one myself; he looks like the strong,
silent type."
"Good! We won't have to fight over them!" They exchanged
smirks.
----------
"What food did Wufei say they
needed?"
"Milk, bread and eggs, but--"
"--you're
sure they need more than that, all right." Trowa rolled his eyes, but pushed the
trolley into the first aisle without further
protest.
----------
"C'mere, quick, you've got to see
this!" Giggling, the shorter cashier led her friend to the end of an aisle and
peered down it.
The blond boy was darting ahead of the trolley, grabbing
things off the shelves, chattering at top speed as he did
so.
"--and I know Duo likes these, remember when he ate a
whole packet by himself? Oh, these are good--"
As packets and cans
tumbled into the trolley, the taller boy calmly examined them... and put half of
them back while his friend's back was turned.
"Juice," he said calmly.
"Duo likes orange mango."
"That's right, and apple peach
too..."
As they came to the end of the aisle, the two cashiers turned
around and tried to look busy. The one with glasses started to straighten the
magazines at the end of a checkout aisle, then jumped and emitted a sort of
strangled squeak as she caught sight of a face on one of the glossy
covers.
"Excuse me," a cheerful voice said behind her. "What aisle is
fruit juice in?"
"Ah! I, um, er, I-- aisle six!" she blurted out,
spinning around with the magazine clutched behind her back. "Six, yes.
Um."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," the blond
apologised.
Nooooooooo, really, you can startle me any time,
honest... "Um, that's okay. Really. No problem."
"What's got into
you?" her friend hissed, popping out of the next aisle as the two boys moved
away. "He spoke to you and you totally blew it! You've squashed that
magazine, too."
"I don't care, I'm going to buy it anyway," she said,
flattening it out hurriedly. "He's Quatre
Winner!"
"What?!"
"Look, here, they've got an article on the
Solar System's most eligible bachelors, and he's in it! He's on the
cover!"
"He's available," her friend pointed out, grabbing
the magazine and flipping through it. "Here he is... Quatre Raberba Winner, CEO
of Winner Enterprises... yeesh, he's only eighteen!"
"Right age for us,"
the other girl said happily, reading over her shoulder. "And... oh,
bugger!"
"What?! What?!"
"Read that paragraph," she said
mournfully, pointing. "Next to the picture of his tall friend."
"Hmmm...
'unfailingly polite', yadda yadda, 'dress sense', yadda... oh. 'Unfortunately,
most society maidens have stopped trying to ensnare Mr. Winner, because it seems
that his constant companion Trowa Barton is more than just a
friend'."
They both sighed.
"First it was cute-and-Chinese, and
his friend with the gorgeous hair and eyes," the shorter girl said glumly. "Now
these two. All the best guys are gay and taken!"
"Back to
watching, I guess," her friend agreed sadly.
* * * * *
"Hey 'Fei," Duo mumbled, wandering into the lounge room trailing a
quilt. "What time is it?"
"About three," Wufei said, smiling
involuntarily at the fuzzy expression on Duo's face. "Want some
coffee?"
"Yeah." Duo plopped down onto the sofa and yawned. "D'we hafta
go see Sally soon?"
"We went this morning. Don't you
remember?"
"Um." The braided boy frowned. "Not sure."
"I'm not
really surprised," Wufei said dryly, levering himself up out of his chair. "You
were zombied again; I actually expected you to sleep longer."
"Oh. ...I
remember something about a demolitions mission. Guess I was
dreaming."
"No, that was how I got you up and moving. I told you that no
explosives were involved, but you kept rewriting the mission
parameters."
"Oh. Okay."
That's an awful lot of words out of
Duo at one time, Wufei thought hopefully as he started the coffeemaker.
Of course, he is still mostly asleep... but at least he's moving under
his own power, and his eyes are open!
Two cups of coffee later, Duo
was actually awake and alert, and looked interested when Wufei suggested a late
lunch.
"Sandwiches?" he said tentatively. "I can make
'em..."
Wufei grimaced. "We're out of bread; if I'd been thinking, I
would have got McKenzie to stop at the shops on the way home. I called Quatre,
though, and he said he'd pick some up. He should be here soon."
"...oh."
Duo looked down and fiddled with his mug.
He's still not sure whether
he wants to encounter Quatre, I guess, Wufei thought, worried. I hope he
doesn't vanish into the bedroom when he arrives...
A moment later,
there was a knock on the door.
"Hi," Trowa said, pushing through the door
with an amazing number of garment bags hanging off his arms as soon as Wufei
opened it. "Hi, Duo."
"What the hell is all that?!" Wufei
sputtered, eyes wide. "I told Quatre Duo needed underwear and socks,
not--"
"Have you ever seen Quatre shop?" Trowa interrupted,
heading for the bedroom.
"...no..."
"You've missed an experience.
He loses all restraint when he's not shopping for himself."
"In other
words, he went nuts," Wufei muttered, leaning out the door and seeing Quatre
approaching, loaded down with groceries. "Quatre, you didn't need to get all
this!"
"Well, I figured you could use it," Quatre said, a little
defensively. "And it's not like I bought anything
expensive."
Thinking about the ultra-exclusive logos he'd seen on
a couple of the garment bags as Trowa carried them past, Wufei bit his tongue
and just stepped aside to let him in.
"I'll just put all this away,"
Quatre panted, wobbling slightly as bags threatened to burst under the strain,
"and then I'll do the dishes or something. Hi, Duo!"
"...hi," Duo said
shakily, watching him stagger into the kitchen. A moment later, there was a
slithering noise, a yelp of alarm, and then a loud clattering as tins bounced
all over the floor.
"Oops! Nothing broke, don't worry..."
"Um...
need a hand?" Duo called, almost sounding as if it was dragged out of
him.
"No... oof! Really, I'm fine," Quatre replied. "I just have to find
where everything goes. That can't be too hard."
Duo leaned forward and
covered his face with his hands as another thump came from the
kitchen.
----------
"Where do you want all this?" Trowa asked as
Wufei came into the bedroom. Strangely, now that the bags were all sitting on
the floor, they seemed to have multiplied...
"What did Quatre
buy?" Wufei said helplessly.
"Everything he could think of," Trowa
said dryly. "Except the leather pants. I managed to get him to put them
back."
"Thank you. Ah... I have space in the wardrobe, and spare
hangers. There are shelves in the wardrobe too, and I think we can move things
around to free up a couple of drawers."
"I will move things.
You will sit down and tell me where to put them."
"You've been
talking to Sally, haven't you?" Wufei asked sourly.
"No. I just know
you."
"Hmph." Wufei sat on the futon and pulled a couple of bags towards
him, poking through the contents while Trowa opened drawers and shifted his
clothes. "I was going to get Duo some clothes the day after we brought him
home," he said absently, "but I got sidetracked by Sally, and somehow never...
good grief. Trowa, where did you find these?!"
Glancing at
the boxers Wufei was holding up, Trowa smirked. "The Sock Shop. It's a specialty
shop that sells socks, ties, underwear, stuff like that. I think Quatre's
secretly always wanted to buy half their stock, but never quite got up the
nerve... or could never come up with a reason to. You gave him the perfect
opportunity; I don't know whether to thank you or kill you."
"I take it
he got some for himself?"
"Yup."
Wufei tried to imagine Quatre
wearing a pair of virulent red-and-green satin boxer shorts, emblazoned with
little Tequila bottles wearing sombreros and the legend 'One Tequila, Two
Tequila, Three Tequila, Floor!' He couldn't. However, he found that he could
easily see Duo wearing them. "I take no responsibility, Trowa," he said,
putting them to one side and gingerly reaching into the bag again. "I didn't
even know the shop existed. 'Cereal Killer'?!"
"That poor, innocent box
of cornflakes, shot down in the prime of its life," Trowa muttered. "Wait until
you get to the bubble bath one."
"...ye-ess. An interesting use for baked
beans, I see. How many did he get?!"
"Every single one that made
him giggle."
"I knew I should have asked Relena," Wufei sighed,
peeking into another bag.
"So why didn't you?"
"Because I didn't
know it until after Quatre assured me he'd do a good job. Well, Duo will
certainly like them, and that's what's important... even if I have to get
another chest of drawers to store them all!"
"Heh. I'm sure Quatre would
be happy to help out..."
"Don't even think about it,
Trowa."
----------
Once the clothes and groceries were all put
away (and the new hairbrush and ties, and Duo's favourite brand of shampoo and
conditioner, and...), Quatre made a beeline for the sink, but Trowa intercepted
him before he could pour more than half a cup of dishwashing liquid into the
water. "I'll do the dishes," he said. "Why don't you...
uh..."
"I'll vacuum."
"Er-- I'm not sure
if--"
Quatre sniffed haughtily, drawing himself up to his full
height. "I'll have you know that I push a mean vacuum, Trowa," he said, stalking
out.
As it turned out, Quatre could vacuum without missing spots,
knocking things over, or sucking up anything he didn't want to. "Nice job,"
Wufei commented, relaxing slightly.
"It's just like running a search
pattern," he explained cheerfully, switching it off and rolling up the cord.
"Duo explained it to me!"
A tiny snigger escaped from behind Duo's hands
as Quatre marched into the bedroom; then Trowa came out of the kitchen. "Nothing
seems damaged," he muttered, looking around with a dubious expression. "...Wait,
where'd he go?"
Quatre popped back out, carrying the overstuffed laundry
basket. "The washers are in the basement, right?" he asked, puffing slightly.
"Don't worry, I've done this before!"
Wufei and Trowa blinked at each
other for a moment as the apartment door swung shut behind
him.
"Has he?"
"I have no idea," Trowa admitted. "I don't
think he took any washing powder with him, though, unless you keep it in your
bedroom."
Duo's shoulders started to shake. "Oh, he has," he moaned,
giggling. "I had to save the poor washer from blowing up!"
"Washing
powder's under the kitchen sink," Wufei told Trowa. "Go rescue the
washers."
As the front door slammed again, Wufei sat down on the sofa
beside Duo. "When did Quatre get his hands on a washing machine?" he
asked, genuinely curious.
"You've never spent two weeks alone in a
safehouse with Quatre, without Trowa automatically taking his turn at housework,
have you?" Duo wheezed, wiping at his eyes. "I have! He was more than willing to
do his share of the chores, but I learned which ones to keep him away from
pretty quick. Do not let Quatre do laundry. Do not let Quatre do dishes. Do not
let Quatre cook... He's right, though, he pushes a mean vacuum. And he
can iron!"
"How did you find out which ones he can handle without dying
in a domestic disaster?!"
"Well, if he can relate something to business
management or piloting a Gundam, he can do it! He couldn't vacuum
properly until I told him it was like running a search pattern." Duo snickered,
then gave up the struggle and howled with laughter, collapsing against Wufei's
shoulder.
----------
Downstairs, Trowa skidded into the laundry
and found it almost empty, except for a pleasant-looking fiftyish woman in a
long skirt and blouse, who was watching with interest as Quatre crammed the last
of four loads' worth of washing into a single washer.
"Oh, good, Trowa,"
Quatre said, shutting the lid and peering at the washer's controls. "This isn't
quite like the one I used before, and I'm not sure how to make it
go."
"Um... I think you need to put coins in," the European boy said,
mentally calculating how to get Quatre away from the machine without hurting his
feelings.
"Really? How much?"
"Actually, it takes tokens," the
woman said helpfully, pointing at a small dispenser mounted on the wall; then
she winked at Trowa and stepped forward, offering her hand to Quatre. "I'm
Gwennol Ptaschinski, but that's such a mouthful that everyone calls me Gwen or
Mrs. P. I don't believe we've met; have you just moved in?"
"Oh no, we're
just helping a friend," Quatre replied, automatically stepping away from the
washer to shake hands. Behind him, Trowa mouthed 'Thank you' at her, and started
pulling sheets and clothes out. "He was injured at work a couple of days
ago."
"Oh, was that Mr. Chang, the Preventer? Now that I come to think of
it, I saw you helping him in on Christmas Eve. I do hope he's not too
badly off, especially now he's got that other lovely young man staying with
him."
"He'll be fine," Quatre assured her. "He just can't use his right
arm at the moment, so some things are a little awkward for him. I'm sorry, I
haven't introduced myself! I'm Quatre Winner, and this is my friend Trowa
Barton."
"Pleasure," Trowa muttered, quickly separating the washing into
whites and colours.
"That's quite all right, I can see you're a little
distracted by worrying about your friend," Mrs. P. said comfortably, flicking a
glance past Quatre to gauge how much longer he needed to be distracted. "I
imagine that being a Preventer must be a dangerous job sometimes. Is the other
young man a Preventer too?"
"No, Duo -- Duo Maxwell -- is a
friend of ours from before Wufei joined the Preventers. He, uh, got hurt on L2
while he was, um, visiting to pay his respects to some, er, deceased
friends."
"I see. Well, I hope he's recovering."
"Yes, and Wufei's
taking very good care of him, but it may take a while."
"I
certainly wish them both the best," she said, smiling at Trowa as he closed the
lid on the last washer and fed tokens in, "but I see that my washing's done, and
I don't want to keep you here talking when you've surely got more interesting
things to do. Give my regards to Mr. Chang and Mr. Maxwell, won't you? My
husband and I are in apartment 31, and we'd be only too glad to lend a hand any
time they need it."
"I will, and thank you!" Quatre smiled, and turned to
Trowa as Mrs. P. walked out with her basket. "She's so nice, isn't she? It's
good to know Duo and Wufei have such helpful people in their
building."
"Yes," Trowa agreed. "Very helpful."
"Oh, you're
finished! I was going to help..."
----------
Back upstairs, Duo's
giggles finally trailed off and he sighed, resting comfortably on Wufei's good
shoulder. Without thinking, Wufei tightened his arm around Duo and turned his
head, pressing a gentle kiss to Duo's hairline.
Duo froze for an instant,
then slowly lifted his head to look at Wufei. Wide violet eyes met black, and
they leaned closer...
...lips parted...
The apartment door crashed
open, and they jerked upright as Quatre bounced in. "We met the nicest lady
downstairs," he said happily. "Mrs. P. She said-- Wufei, are you all
right? You look a little odd..."
"I'm fine," Wufei gritted through
clenched teeth, determined that he was not going to clutch at his abused
shoulderblade and fall over screeching in pain, or throw a book at Quatre's head
and abuse him for incredibly bad timing.
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