Gundam Wing: Angel and the Dragon

Part 8

The trip by helicopter back from Nepal was, for Trowa, extremely instructive in the various possible levels of anxiety. The scene of Wufei's capture played itself over and over in his mind as he tried to determine just what it was about Treize's sudden appearance that had disarmed the pilot so thoroughly. Only one possibility, besides simple incompetence, presented itself, and the French pilot tried not to think about it: that Wufei had been a spy.

The next level concerned Luxembourg. He had basically determined to his satisfaction that Duo was not in Nepal, which meant he was either in Luxembourg, or Oz had outmaneuvered them so thoroughly that they had missed something fundamental. He hoped ferverently that Duo had been rescued, since failure would probably mean a further reduction of their ranks.

The final level, and the most difficult for the quiet Gundam pilot to sit through, was his worry over Quatre. He knew as well as anyone that Quatre was the least trained in covert ops of them all. If Wufei had been captured so easily - and if Trowa had come so close - then he wasn't sure if Heero could protect Quatre from a similar fate, even if they were successful in breaking Duo out. The thought that his smiling, blonde beauty might not be there to greet him when he returned haunted him for the whole trip.

Finally, the helicopter set down at a reasonable distance from the safehouse, waiting just long enough for Trowa to disembark, and then lifting off again. The Maguarnac pilot waved at Trowa enthusiastically before he was lost from sight by the curve of the hull.

Trowa located Wufei's motorcycle, which the two of them had ridden there an eternity ago, and walked it up to the asphalt shoulder of the nearby road. He didn't have the key, so he jimmied the lock and started it with a few twists of wires. He gunned the motor and sped away.

:Please, Quatre love, be there.:

He had hardly drawn up to the little shack and parked the motorcycle before the object of his worry flew out of the door, calling to him.

:Yokatta.:

"Trowa! Thank goodness you're back!" Quatre said, then burst into tears, burying his face in his shoulder and sobbing.

"Quatre! What is it?" He extricated himself from the boy long enough to get off the motorcycle, then wrapped his arm around his shoulders and guided Quatre towards the house.

"Heero made me come back, he wouldn't let me come to the base. And he hasn't come back, or contacted me, or anything. And now you're back, but you're riding Wufei's motorcycle and he's not here either." Quatre babbled as Trowa sat him down on the couch.

"Heero's been captured too?"

"I suppose so," Quatre said tearfully. "Does this mean that Wufei has really been captured?"

Trowa nodded. "I saw it." He wisely decided not to mention that the last thing he had seen of Wufei was of him getting shot.

"What do we do?"

"I don't know." Trowa sighed, a wave of exhaustion hitting him. He'd been too keyed up to sleep in transit on the way back, and now he was feeling the effects. "Let's discuss it in the morning, I need some rest."

"Okay, Trowa." Quatre stood. "How horrible of me! I've been sitting here all alone with nothing to do while you go off on that mission, and I don't even offer to do anything for you when you get back! I'll take care of you Trowa."

"Don't apologize, aisuru." He allowed himself to be bundled to bed and allowed a smile to grace his face as Quatre curled up beside him, yawning cutely.

"I've been so worried, I hardly slept last night," he said.

Trowa caressed his cheek. "I'm sorry to make you worry."

Quatre opened his eyes and smiled. He wrapped his arms around Trowa and kissed him softly on the lips. "That's okay."

"I'm so glad Heero made you come home. I was worried, too."

"You were worried?" Quatre looked so sweetly surprised and happy that Trowa felt a stab. He knew he was undemonstrative, but surely Quatre knew how much he loved him!

"Of course I was. I love you," he said. He felt a glow of pride as he said this. A few months ago, it had been a physical pain to utter those words, and now they felt natural coming from his lips.

"I love you, too, Trowa," Quatre said earnestly. Then a look of pain wrinkled Quatre's forehead and caused lines to spring up around his mouth. Trowa couldn't stand to see them, so he smoothed them away with kisses. Quatre sighed. "I feel so responsible. Maybe if I'd been there, I'd have been able to help."

"More likely you would have been captured. I was lucky not to be captured myself, and I'm much better at this than you are."

"Really?"

"They were ready for us, really ready. It was a trap, and a very good one."

Quatre sighed again. "I hate this. Now instead of one of us captured, it's three, and we're back where we started, except now they're really in two different places."

"We're back to square one, that's for sure."

"Square negative one, more like it," Quatre said sadly. "We're even worse off then before."

Trowa kissed him. "Don't worry. We'll make a better plan and get them out."

"I hope so."

Their mouths met again, tongues warring, and hands wandering lovingly over each other's bodies. Quatre made little cries in his throat as Trowa stroked him through the fabric of his pants. Quatre unzipped Trowa's jeans and drew him out, pumping softly, then harder.

Safe in an empty house with his lover, Trowa abandoned himself to it, moaning and even crying out as Quatre steadily increased the frequency of the motion. He did keep enough presence of mind to do the same for his beloved. Again and again they ground their hips together, almost as close as two people could be - head to head, chest to chest, groin to groin. Then they separated and began pumping with their hands again, continuing, but not letting themselves release, until their hands cramped and they moved together again.

Finally, Trowa found he couldn't hold back anymore. He cried out, spurting his seed over Quatre's slim hand. Quatre let go and went over the edge a second later, crying out Trowa's name as he did so.

They both collapsed to the mattress, legs and arms entwining, breathing as though they'd run a marathon.

"Ai shiteru, Trowa. Honto ni ai shiteru," Quatre said softly.

At first, Trowa only grunted, then something in his mind prodded him and he kissed Quatre deeply. "Ai shiteru, Quatre," he said when his mouth was free again. The two boys drifted to sleep, held in each other's arms.

Wufei sat on the bed, his knees brought up to his chest and his arms curled around them and watched the door like a brooding lion. Or dragon. Treize watched him for a few seconds and reflected idly that if the Chinese boy's eyes were weapons, the door would be a smoking pile of slag by now.

He gestured offhandedly at the tech running the surveillance equipment. "Shut it down."

"Yes, General," the boy said nervously, glancing up at him with trepidation before punching a few buttons. :My, they get younger every year, don't they? How depressing.: Treize fingered the rose in his hand absently.

The General of Oz punched the combination that opened the door and entered the room...

...and was promptly hit smack in the face by a thrown pillow. He jerked back in surprise and bumped his head on the now-closed door.

"That hurt," he remarked, touching the back of his head gingerly with his free hand. A snort from the dragon at the other end of the room answered him. Attempting to regather the shreds of his dignity, he held up the rose and advanced on Wufei. "I thought I might give this to you, little dragon, as an overture of peace."

Wufei sneered at Treize, though he reached out to accept the flower. "What am I supposed to do with it, eat it-" he was cut off as his finger was pricked by a thorn. He dropped the rose with a hiss, red blood welling from the sensitive pad of his right index finger.

Treize caught his hand and lowered his mouth to it, soothing the pain away with his lips. He sucked lightly and tasted blood. "Ah, like you, it is beautiful, yet causes pain, little dragon," he said, glancing up at the blushing pilot.

"Did you get that one from a book?" Wufei said derisively, snatching his hand away.

Treize smiled. "Would you be so angry at me if you had gone to Luxembourg and been caught by Zechs instead? Or if I had not shown up at the precise moment I did and shattered your concentration?"

"Probably not," Wufei said in a hurt tone. "You betrayed me."

"I tell you, dragon, I did not intend to. I never expected that you would come here. Furthermore, my presence there was completely coincidental. You and your friends moved more quickly then even I had anticipated, and I was still inspecting the facilities to ensure that our trap was complete when I saw you. I reacted with surprise without thinking, dragon, and called your name. I'm sorry."

Wufei drew his knees up to his chest again and lowered his forehead to them. His voice was muffled as he spoke, but Treize couldn't tell if it was just from his position or emotion. "All right, fine. I forgive you. Now onegai, leave me alone."

Treize drew back as if stung. "Very well, dragon, if that is what you want." He rose, but was arrested by Wufei's hand shooting out to grasp his cloak. The Chinese boy uncurled, his dark eyes intense and locked on Treize's sapphire ones. He rose, never taking his eyes off of the taller man, and with great deliberation, he kissed him.

Treize nearly pulled away initially, so surprised was he at the sudden return of intimacy. He had entertained thoughts that perhaps Wufei's fanaticism would make this incident the end of their relationship. For once, instead, he allowed his iron control to relax and he gave himself to the kiss.

Wufei's hands slid up under the cloak, drawing shudders, even through the layers of uniform, from the older man. They slid around his body, and Treize responded in kind, wrapping his arms tightly around the boy and moaning into his mouth. The hands traveled down, encountering the belt and tracing its line absently back towards the front.

Without warning, Wufei grabbed Treize's sidearm and ducked out of his hold, backing up three steps and pointing the gun at him. His eyes were intense and determined and his mouth set. "Don't move," he said. "Raise your hands."

Treize did as directed, his mouth pulled down in a frown. "Now, dragon, this is hardly fair," he said quietly. "You have used our relationship to get my guard down, and take advantage-"

"Urusai!" Wufei barked, cocking the gun. "You used our relationship to get me captured in the first place. I told you it was forgiven, not forgotten. Now, turn around."

Treize turned slowly. "Will you shoot me in the back, my dragon?" he asked ironically. A snort answered that question.

"Of course not, that would only get me killed. You're going to get me out of here."

"I think you may be mistaken, dragon."

"Not if you want to live, Treize." Treize fell silent. He had to admit, he wasn't quite ready to die, yet. And he suspected Wufei understood him well enough to know it. He heard Wufei rustling behind him, but knew damn well he daren't turn to see what he was doing or Wufei would shoot him. He cursed himself for overestimating his power over the boy. :How could I have been so arrogant? He's never given me any firm indication that he cared about me in the least, and I know how fanatic he is. For all I truly know, he's simply been biding his time all along, saving this for when he truly needed it. I'm a fool, blinded by love.:

He heard a clink and Wufei came around him into his field of vision, a pair of handcuffs dangling from his fingers. :Where did he-?: Then Treize thought back to when he had brought Wufei to this room. He didn't specifically remember giving the 'cuffs to one of the guards, and *he* certainly hadn't had them when he'd left. He'd assumed that one of the guards had taken them, but Wufei might have lifted them, given sufficient skill.

"I have underestimated you in many areas, dragon," he said. Wufei's eyes were serious.

"Hold out your left hand." Treize complied, his cloak falling away from the arm as he lifted it. The handcuffs were fastened onto his wrist and then Wufei tucked himself beside him, under the main fall of the cloak. Another click signaled the cuffs being hooked onto Wufei's hand, which was the one holding the gun. The boy rearranged the cloak and suddenly Treize saw his plan. With the aid of the cloak's concealing properties, and because of the angles at which Wufei had cuffed their arms together, it looked as though Treize simply had his arm around the boy's arm, or perhaps was holding his hand. Meanwhile, the barrel of the gun dug uncomfortably into his side.

"Ingenious," Treize said quietly.

Wufei's dark eyes flashed at him. "I swear I will not kill you once we get out of here. In return, you play along, kisama, or I blow your torso off."

Treize grimaced and averted his eyes, berating himself for the show of weakness, but unable to help himself. He had been neatly outmaneuvered. "Understood."

"Let's go." Treize led the way over to the intercom beside the door and signaled the guards outside to open the door. When the door opened, he swept past them without a word, heading for his suite. Wufei kept his eyes down and shuffled along like a good little plaything, though when they were out of earshot he jabbed the General sharply in the ribs. "Where are we going? The elevator is the other way."

"Trust me."

Wufei snorted, but didn't protest as they continued. When they reached the suite, Treize strode over to the bed and Wufei balked. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Getting us out of here, dragon." He hauled on the handcuffs and Wufei discovered rather abruptly why it's sometimes not a good idea to chain yourself to someone else. Treize pretended to be too busy trying to find the little groove in the wood on the headboard to notice him regain his balance. He found the spot and touched it.

The bed slid forward and then aside, revealing a dimly-lit, rock-walled tunnel.

"What the hell is that?"

"Executive privilege."

Wufei took a long look at the tunnel. "That leads out of here?"

"That is correct."

He shook his head. "Do you have one of those in *every* base?"

"Do you expect me to tell you that, given that I am a hostage and you are pointing a weapon at me?"

Wufei grunted, then waved the weapon in the general direction of the tunnel. "All right, let's go."

A long, sometimes dark, time later, they emerged from a cave. Wufei looked around and recognized the area as being reasonably close to where Quatre's helicopter had dropped him and Trowa off, which meant that it was about a mile from the base.

"Yoshi," he remarked. He tucked the gun into the waistband of his pants, pulled a small needle out of the band in his ponytail, and picked the lock of the handcuffs with disconcerting ease. Treize smiled at the boy and held up his arm, the handcuffs still dangling from the wrist.

"Well, I suppose I'll make the trek back now. I'm sure by the time I get back you'll be long gone, so you have nothing to worry about. I'll just tell them that you surprised me, overcame me, and forced me to show you the secret exit. They'll remodel my suite and that'll be that."

Wufei smiled slowly, a curiously distant look in his eyes. "No, that won't be that, because Duo and Heero are still in your custody." His leg shot out, knocking Treize - unused to fighting martial artists, just fencers - off of his feet. The boy leapt on him and grabbed his wrists, cuffing them together behind his back in a swift motion.

He got up and pulled the gun from his waistband, pointing it at Treize again. In his other hand he held his wristcom. "Get up, General, you're coming with me."

Zechs was still stone-faced the next day when he came to Duo's room before the start of his workday. Duo yawned mightily and looked at him with sleepy eyes.

"Milliard!" He patted the bed beside him. He sat up, allowing the covers to fall from his shoulders to reveal a deliciously bare torso. "Take a load off, man. C'mere!"

Zechs regarded him for a moment, then shrugged and sat down, carefully, on the edge of the bed. He heard Duo shift behind him and was about to turn when a pair of delicate hands seized him gently by the shoulders. The hands started kneading, with decent, if untrained, proficiency at the muscles of his neck and shoulders. Despite himself, the Lightning Count found himself relaxing.

"What are you doing, Duo?" he asked sharply.

"Saaa, man, you're so tense I'm getting sympathy pains!" Then he sighed, "Jeez, you sounded like Heero for a second there."

Zechs looked down at his hands. "Sorry."

Duo snorted. "You shouldn't *have* to apologize for resembling the guy I'm in love with, but unfortunately, you do. It's okay, though."

Zechs felt a stab. :The guy I'm in love with.:

He bore the pilot's ministrations for a while as he got his emotions back under iron control. It was much more difficult then usual, though, given the fact that Duo's hands were all over him. Well, not *all* over him, but the effect was similar.

"Hey, why don't you take that awful mask off, Milliard?" Duo broke his concentration by saying. "You look like Wing or something."

Zechs shrugged. "I hadn't planned on staying long." Duo grunted.

"Weeelll, why don't you take it off, now?"

"I'm still not planning to stay long." He paused. "I had planned to take you to see Heero again. He's been on his best behaviour since you left, by the way." He couldn't hide the irony in his voice as he continued. "He's out of restraints this time, as well, which I'm sure will please you."

"Hmmm, maybe." Duo gave his shoulders a few more good squeezes, then leaned forward and hugged Zechs from behind. "Okay, give me a minute to shower and we'll go, okay?"

"All right." Duo bounced up and headed for the bathroom, whistling to himself. The door closed and Zechs shifted himself so he could lean on the headboard as the sounds of water spraying drifted though the cabin. Duo was singing again, in a very inventive key, Zechs noted with amusement. :What am I going to do? I can't get him out of my head.: He sighed, closing his eyes. :It's over, I have no hope - even if I had any in the first place. Why did I ever let myself feel this in the first place?: Though, he knew he never had a choice. :I love him. I can't help myself.:

The sound of the bathroom door opening and a blast of steam heralded Duo's return. He sashayed out, still clad only in boxer shorts, and went clothes-hunting. Zechs marveled: even after almost a week of spending nights on the floor, the uniform was relatively wrinkle-free. Amazing.

Duo unashamedly dressed in Zechs' full view, then sat down on the bed and handed him the brush. "Go to it, man."

Half an hour later, Duo was dry, clean, and dressed. He bounced to his feet.

"All right! Let's go!"

"Yes," Zechs replied. Duo turned to him, his eyes twinkling.

"Oh, and as for yesterday's performance..." He pounced Zechs, kissing him hard enough to bruise both their lips. When he withdrew, his eyes had lost none of their sparkle. "Don't forget that," he whispered.

Zechs just sat there, totally in shock.

Suddenly, Duo was on the other side of the room, a bundle of energy again. "Come on, come on, I'm tired of these four walls, man! You can't keep Death locked up like this!"

He shook his head. "Coming."

It was a long trek down the mountain to the nearest settlement. Treize couldn't move his arms to steady himself on the treacherous slopes, and after he fell heavily the first time and scraped his cheek, Wufei held tightly onto his arm, saving him from a few stumbles. A mile from the small town, they stopped near a small communications station on the outskirts. Treize permitted himself a small sigh; he'd been wondering how the Gundam pilot had intended to get him into the town without someone recognizing him.

Wufei knelt beside an access panel, keeping a watchful eye out for guards. He forced Treize to his knees beside him, where he could both watch the General, and work on the panel, and produced the wristcom. He worked quickly, cutting wires and rearranging them, connecting some to the circuitry in the comm unit. Finally, he pressed some buttons on the unit and it emitted a blast of static.

The Chinese pilot cursed vehemently and adjusted some dials. Finally, the static ceased and the image on the tiny screen resolved itself into the image of a blonde boy.

"Wufei! Yokatta! You're alive!" Quatre cried. His hair was more tousled then usual and he seemed to be wearing pajamas.

"Of course I'm alive, Quatre. Get me out of here."

Quatre glanced away for a moment and seemed to be speaking to someone outside of the screen's range of view. Then he turned back. "Trowa's looking for you, now. I'll contact the Maguaranacs and send a helicopter. Don't worry, Wufei-kun, we'll be there in a few hours."

"Yoshi. Make sure there's room for two."

"Two?" Wufei moved the little watch so that Quatre could see his prisoner. Treize raised one sculpted eyebrow at the image, then looked away, studying the gorgeous mountain view. When Wufei looked into the screen again, Quatre was still in mid-gasp. "Treize!"

"Sou."

"Wait there, a helicopter will be there to pick you up as soon as it can get there."

"Arigatou." Wufei switched off the watch and removed it from the panel with a few twists of wires.

"So, you truly intend to do this, dragon?" Treize said sadly, still not looking at the pilot.

"Did you doubt it? Perhaps you don't know me as well as you think you do." Wufei hauled him to his feet and placed his face very near to Treize's. "Winning this war is all that matters. Any feeling I might have for you is secondary. Get moving!" He pushed Treize ahead of him and the General stumbled again, catching himself before he scraped his face on the rocky ground. The words passed wonderingly through his head. :Any feeling I might have for you... he has feeling for me? Oh dragon...:

Heero looked up from his brooding as the door slid open to admit Duo and Zechs. He was sitting in his customary position for the activity: leaning against the headboard, one leg bent, with his arm resting on the knee. His piercing eyes noted a few unusual details and narrowed malevolently.

Zechs glanced at him and frowned, then looked down at Duo. "If you need anything, just call out. I'll be watching, again, though I'll be doing some work at the same time."

Duo shrugged, flashing him a smile. "No problem."

Zechs took one more look at Heero, who was almost steaming with rage. "All right, enjoy yourselves."

"Will do!"

The Lightning Count left and the door slid closed behind him. Duo's grin seemed to falter a bit.

"What's up, Heero? You look royally pissed about something. Did they forget the butter with your toast again - eek!"

He cut himself off with a squeak as Heero got up off the bed and stalked him. With each step the Perfect Soldier took, Duo took a step back, until he bumped into the dresser and had to stop. Heero walked up to him until he was almost touching the other pilot. He raised a hand and brushed his fingers against Duo's lips. Shinigami's pilot's eyes widened at the gesture, a strange contrast to the rage smoldering in his eyes.

"H-Heero...?"

"You have a fresh bruise on your face."

"Nani?"

"Your lips, they're bruised. So were Zechs'," he said quietly. Suddenly Duo felt very, very cold. He started trembling.

"Heero..."

The Wing pilot suddenly lashed out, punching the stainless steel dresser just five inches to the right of Duo's chest so hard he dented it. "What did he do to you?!" he shouted.

Duo wanted to lie. He wanted to tell Heero that it was all Zechs' fault, that *he* had kissed *Duo* and that it wasn't his fault. I can't do that to Milliard, though.

"Heero, I - I'm sorry."

Heero stared at him. "What are you apologizing for?"

Duo cringed slightly, knowing what this confession would bring. "He didn't do anything to me. I kissed him."

Though he was expecting the worst, the force of the blow still took him by surprise. He flew halfway across the room, hitting the door with his head and shoulder and went down in a heap, seeing stars.

He was dimly aware of the door opening and people rushing past him. He could hear Heero shouting, but he couldn't understand what he was saying. Warm, familiar hands hoisted him up and cradled him and bore him away.

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