Adult-FanFiction.org : Gundam, Beyblade, DBZ, FMA

Crashing Down	By : kracken Category: Gundam Wing/AC > Yaoi - Male/Male > Heero/Duo Views: 2893 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing and I don't make any money from this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 1-1
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 1
- 2
"We have nothing in common," Heero growled as he shoved hard to get the last lock down into place on his jump ship protective plating over its more delicate instrumentation. The tech was revving the engines, dusting up the tarmac and generating a mind numbing heat from the engine exhaust ports. Heero was mentally ticking off the fuel levels with each rev and getting angrier at the tech by the millisecond. How long did it take the man to get it right?

Shouting loudly to be heard over the engine test, Commander Une, bangs flying in the dustup and hand on her military cap to keep it from flying away, ordered him, "Planning room, level four! One hour, Yuy!"

He glared at her, shaking out a hand with several quick jerks to get the fingers joints to loosen up. Fuck getting older that made old injuries ache and joints, that had seen four times the wear and tear of a normal man, begin to fail him. Fuck rules and regulations. Fuck partners. Fuck the tech who couldn't get a damn fuel to engine ration properly balanced.

"Shut it down!" Heero finally shouted as he grabbed a handhold and swung into the ships open hatch. "I said, shut it down, you god damned moronic-"

The engines shut down and an apologetic tech leaned in the pilots chair so that he could look down the short bay at Heero. "Sorry, sir, but the whole array needs to be replaced. It won't balance because it can't get proper readings."

That meant downtime for the ship and a wall ripped out to reach the array. Fuck stupid techs who didn't see the necessity in putting in a hatch for something like that. Not that they would have envisioned their jump ship taking a hit in an ariel firefight that had required Heero to dive between two jutting rock ledges at mach one. He hadn't quite made it.

Fuck getting old! Heero thought again as he slung himself out of the ship again. He wouldn't have missed that maneuver during the war. Ten years shouldn't have made that much difference. The engines shut down, sending a puff of heat up his backside as he watched Commander Une's correct posture and tight backside striding off the tarmac and into the engineering hanger.

"Looks like you sure pissed her off," the tech said as he climbed down beside Yuy and started making notes on a computer floppy. "She only leaves headquarters when she's personally going to execute someone."

"What do you know about Duo Maxwell?" Heero asked bluntly, ignoring the man's comment.

"Maxwell?" the man grunted as he made the mental shift and then shrugged. "Likes deep infiltration cases, ex Oz trying to revive the old days, especially. People say he has a personal vendetta against them and can't give it up even after the war. Total nut job."

"Has he ever had a partner?"

"No. Like's it solo, just like you, sir."

Heero frowned. What was Une up to? Fuck officials! Heero thought angrily and slapped a hand backwards into the tech's chest, making him grunt. "Get my ship fixed."

"That's my job, sir." the tech retorted and then thought better of getting angry at a man of Heero's caliber. "You'll be ready for jump in 48."

Two days, Heero thought in disgust as he stalked away. He truly missed the old days when he didn't have to have ships inspected by pencil pushers and staffed with a maintenance crew.

Maybe the others had been right to give it up completely and pursue more peaceful occupations, Heero thought, but only briefly. He couldn't honestly see himself as a pencil pusher or a tech deep in the bowels of some corporation. He was a total adrenaline junkie and would probably be that way for life. Riding the edge of oblivion never ceased to make him feel truly alive.

Maxwell had felt the same way, apparently, but they had taken on different careers. Heero loved being a pilot. Duo, it seemed, was all about cloak and dagger. In ten years, their paths hadn't managed to cross. Why now? What was Une up to?

Heero entered the engineering hanger and entered his data into the nearest terminal cantilevered off of the bay walls. The keys were covered in engine grease and dirt. The place smelled like oil, ozonated metal, and baking asphalt from the sun drenched tarmac. The mechanic nearest to Heero ,gave him a nervous, shy look before returning to his work. Even after ten years, Heero had still managed to keep his status of 'the best of the best'. The awe and worship Heero could ignore as long as the damned men did their jobs correctly.

Heero shook his aching fingers out again, as they cramped on the keyboard. He stared at them, briefly, at white knuckles that were clear indicators of joint problems, before muttering, "Fuck!" under his breath and stalking out of the hanger towards headquarters proper.

One knee twinged harshly as Heero turned into a corridor. Another bad joint that was prone to make him stumble, once in awhile. Embarrassing, weak, and something that made him glad that he had chosen to remain a pilot. His body could manage a control yolk, still, and button pushing. He wasn't sure what he would do if that became untrue, but he could feel a dark depression even brushing the edges of the very idea.

Duo Maxwell. Heero's mind shifted back to a problem that didn't require him to think of a grounded ship and a body that was doing its best to betray him. He had received the notices for meeting, already, by nervous messengers of every rank. Heero had ignored them all, especially when one had admitted that Une was considering making Maxwell his partner. Aside from dropping the man in the vicinity of a mission, Heero couldn't see any practical use for a combination of their talents. He could only assume, then that plans were in the works to shift his primary position for one more suited to a partnership with Maxwell.

That insinuated that Heero had been less than satisfactory in his performance or that someone had noticed his joint problems. He certainly hadn't informed anyone of his growing problems in that area, and he couldn't believe that even his last mission had been unacceptable in any way. Even damaged he had managed to get civilians out of a fire fight and get them to safety with his tail on fire and one engine malfunctioning.

Une wasn't someone that Heero could ignore, especially when she felt the need to confront him face to face. That meant that she had taken a very personally interest in whatever plan was in the works that involved Heero and Maxwell. She could make him an ex pilot with one tap of her finger on a keyboard and Heero was under no illusion about his prospects for ever getting into a cockpit, after that. Word would go out and she would make certain that he was blacklisted. Heero didn't want to resort to mercenaries or backwater police forces who didn't care about his record. heero was the best, he thought, and he wanted to work for the best.

Heero was the first to arrive in the planning room. It held only utilitarian white plastic chairs and a long table, that were scuffed and abused from years of arguing officials, crews, and agents. As he sat down, he unzipped his khaki jumpsuit down to his waist, to dry the sweat on his lighter khaki undershirt. Pulling out his palm computer, he played a calming game of Pong. When a thumb cramped, after a few minutes, he dropped the computer on the table with a rattle and shook it with a muttered, "Fuck!"

"Finally show up, huh?" Duo was standing out of reach from Heero, but relaxed, hands in uniform pockets. He looked as if he had been standing there a long time, watching him.

Heero calmed his racing heart, muscles twitching as he kept them from reacting in a deadly fashion.

There was a white scar over his nose and across one cheek, Heero noticed, and a steel in his purple eyes that he didn't recall from the war. There was also a hard set to his wide lips, even though they were smiling, as if he was forcing them to stretch and take on the shape of someone who was amused. He still had his ridiculous braid, but, noticing that, Heero spotted a large burn scar at the back of Duo's neck. It was in stripes and looked raw, red, and new.

"I have more. If you want me to undress so that you can see them...?" Duo said in a tight way that dared Heero to comment.

Heero scowled and went back to his pong game. Une was the one that he needed to speak to, not Duo Maxwell.

"Ten years and that's it?" Duo wondered, sounding hurt. He slumped sideways into a chair and drummed broad fingered hands on the tabletop. "Still as focused on your shit as ever, Yuy."

"My shit is important," Heero replied and then pursed his lips together, determined not to let Maxwell tease him into conversation.

"You filled out," Duo commented, eyeing him up and down. "Looks good on you. You still have that crazy-assed lock downed personality, though."

"Works for me," Heero retorted and then seethed as he realized that Duo was just as good as he had been during the war into getting him to talk.

Duo didn't look any different. Maybe his face was sharper and more worn, but it hadn't matured into more adult masculine lines. Like an elf, Heero thought as he won another pong game, a manic, bomb making, undercover, infiltration, killer elf. Someone else had said that. Heero searched his memory and realized that it had been Trowa. It bothered Heero that he was mentally parroting the past. Arthritis and now senility?

Une came into the room, heels clicking on the industrial cement floor. No frills for an outfit like theirs. Everything was functional and practical.

"I was expecting to find an empty room.... again," Une commented as she put down a floppy between Maxwell and Yuy. "These are your orders. Read them. Accept them or decline them. Declining them will get you ejected from Preventers and anywhere else you try to apply your talents."

Duo blinked as he pulled the floppy towards him and looked it over. "I always like having a choice, ma'am."

"I'll expect you on the training grounds tomorrow.... early," Une replied and her heels clicked as she walked out of the room and down the hallway.

Heero pulled the floppy from Duo's hand, cutting his fingers slightly on its sharp edges. As Duo hissed and sucked on a shallow cut, Heero read the floppy over.

"Fuck this!" Heero exploded after only a few lines.

"I am gay, so that's really not a phrase that you want to use unless you mean it, Yuy," Duo said seriously as he stood up. "See you in training tomorrow, bright and early."

"You're accepting this?" Heero exclaimed in astonishment.

"You're not?" Duo wondered with a raised eyebrow. He smirked as he turned and waved a hand at Heero, "Hope you like flipping burgers, then, because that bitch will make sure that's all you'll get."

Heero watched him go, braid swinging, feeling as if he didn't know Maxwell at all. Why would the man agree to freeze his career to train raw recruits for six months? How could Une take them out of the field and risk future missions and lives? How could he, Heero agree to it? It was madness and a complete waste of resources.

He was going to file a formal protest, Heero decided. He would go along with Une's farce, until her superiors in the government brought a halt to her, obviously, unbalanced decision.

------------------------------------------

"Watch him?" Heero glared up at Une. He was standing, stiffly, his bad knee hating that he had it locked at attention. It wasn't a position that he had taken out of respect, though. Une was tall and intimidating in heels. Heero had never reached a height that had made him comfortable in his own skin when it came to confrontations. Taking her his acceptance of her mission, while informing her that he was going over her head in protest, wasn't something that he had wanted to do on uneven ground. She had, damn her, stood up from her desk and walked around to stand over him, as if she knew, and relished his discomfort.

"It's possible that Maxwell has been compromised," Une informed him."This downtime will allow you to observe him and report any unusual behavior."

Heero grunted and glared angrily, "I don't have time for games. You should have told me from the beginning that I wasn't really assigned to train recruits."

"But you are," Une replied and seemed to get even taller, somehow as she tilted her head in a commanding, arrogant fashion. "I have highly skilled men and women who are having difficulties with the physical aspects of being a field agent."

"Desk geeks," Heero translated in disgust.

"Highly talented individuals who need special guidance from seasoned veterans," Une corrected him with precise tones.

Une's desk was surrounded by glass walls. At the heart of Preventers, she could see what everyone in the outer room was doing. Preventer agents hurried about their tasks as if spurred on by their knowledge that she could swoop down on them and launch a scathing critique of their work at any time. For Heero it was a feeling of exposure that made his back twitch. He couldn't watch all angles, couldn't see every threat, and that made his paranoia, put firmly in the pilot's seat since birth, go into high gear. It made him even more irritable and abrupt than usual.

"Give me the report on Maxwell and I'll review it."

Une blinked, whatever she had been prepared to say forestalled. She picked up a chip from her desk and handed it to Heero. "It's all there."

"Terminate if I find that he's compromised?" Heero snapped out as he closed an aching hand over the chip.

She frowned, "No, of course not, Yuy! If you find evidence that he's compromised, you'll report it to me for further action. He'll be separated from the general population and de programmed."

"You suspect mental triggers?" Heero hated stupidity. This seemed over the top for a woman that he had once respected for her intelligence. "It didn't work for your organization during the war. Why would Maxwell break now?"

"I don't know," Une replied, her expression making it clear that she knew exactly what Heero was thinking. "It's my job to not drop the ball, Yuy, and to not think of anyone as infallible or incorruptible."

"My bets are on corrupted," Heero told her firmly. "He suffered ample torture and chemical inducement during the war. It failed."

"There were also attempts to corrupt him," Une revealed. "A poor kid from the back stews of L2 laughed at us when we told him to write his own credit amount for information on the rebels and Gundams. He didn't even bother trying to give us false information. That told me that he had firm allegiances."

"Had?" Heero echoed. "If you're going to pretend that Preventers hasn't taken directions that have been unpopular, then I suggest that you get your head examined. I think whether he has changed his allegiance or not will be he main thrust of my investigation."

"It's not an investigation," Une told him impatiently. "You are here for observation purposes only."

Heero glared, feeling temper bubbling and almost reaching a boiling point. "This seems a waste of resources."

"That's my decision. If you can't follow orders..." She raised a precise eyebrow at him, letting the threat hang between them.

Heero felt like punching something in frustration, but he knew the rules. He was an attack dog on a leash and he always had been. It had been made clear to him, even in his youth, that more intelligent heads should be allowed to make the decisions. He couldn't always see the logic in their decisions or make his own decisions because of that lack of insight.

"I'll observe Maxwell and I'll train the recruits. I hope they all survive it," Heero growled and stalked out of that too exposed office.

Heero had a bunk in the dorm area of Preventers. A thick door opened and a person crawled onto a bunk platform. Gear was stowed in a compartment overhead. Walls held vid, computer, radio, and communications. Closing the door behind him and locking it, left Heero, lying on his back, feeling as if he was surrounded by information, as if he was back in the zero system and part of the machine. Some people might have found it sterile and claustrophobic, but Heero found it comforting.

Loading Duo's information chip into the computer he grunted at the information stream it presented him. Mission gone bad. At least Maxwell hadn't caused it, though. Some third level pencil pusher had ordered a messy retrieval and Maxwell had felt it necessary to cover the escape of his acquisition's ass with his life. Subsequent capture by the targets followed and there had been a two week time frame before Maxwell had been extracted from the situation. Extensive signs of torture had been evident on Maxwell's body and he was suffering from amnesia covering the precise period of his incarceration. Heero could see why Une was suspicious.

Heero went over Duo's records, updating himself on anything that might give Maxwell an edge if it came to trying to subdue the man, one on one. He didn't find anything. Like himself, Duo had simply relied on the top training that he had received as a Gundam pilot. Improvement hadn't been necessary. His missions were all impeccable, tidy, and successful. The one that had made him a captive was an aberration that begged many questions. Why had Une felt it necessary to step in and assign Maxwell a superior officer, when his lone infiltration techniques had always been more than adequate? Like Heero, he was given orders and then allowed to follow them independent of oversight. Micro managing Duo's last mission and giving him orders in the field of operations, showed a lack of confidence in Maxwell that was puzzling.

Heero went over medical records, noting each injury, past and present. The man wasn't careful of his body, that was certain. He sacrificed with a complete lack of thought for actually being physically able to complete a mission. That disaster hadn't struck, earlier, was a testament to his strength, rather than intelligent planning.

Heero looked up Maxwell's residence, lastly, and was a bit surprised to find that the man had a small home on the outskirts of the city. Rural, definitely. Looking at a street level map, he approved of the way that it was hidden behind greenery and that not even a mail drop was visible from the road. An ariel wasn't anymore revealing. In fact, someone had hacked the satellite feed. It showed a blank spot where lower level photographs should have pierced the foliage and shown the foot print of a home. Duo had been thorough.

The file photo of Duo showed a face that was both smug and intense. The smile was intentionally disarming. Heero had seen those lively eyes go flat of emotion, when the man was dealing death. That serious core of him, that could do what was necessary, had surprised Heero, he recalled. He found himself searching the eyes of the file photograph, trying to see that military side of him, the part of his personality that could turn off his good natured, selfless, and engaging personality in order to win a conflict in a deadly fashion.

Heero turned off the computer with a growl of annoyance. What was he thinking? Engaging personality? The man was, possibly, a mole, a saboteur in the Preventers organization. This wasn't the time to give Maxwell any traits that would cause any favorable opinions towards the man.

As Heero switched off the lights to sleep, though, he couldn't stop remembering Duo from the war. The man had drawn him like a moth to a flame, intriguing Heero with ideas and feelings that had been off limits at the time, that Heero had continued to make off limits even now. They had experienced an odd friendship, back then, that had been more than just fellow soldiers finding common ground on the battlefield of skill and dedication to a cause. Heero hadn't named it, back then, and he was still finding it hard to label it, now, but in his dreams Duo laughed and told him that being human was all right.

-----------------------------

It was always hard to move when he first crawled out of bed. Joints had locked, swollen, or simply relaxed and liked it that way. It was hard to convince them that he was in command of himself as Heero left his tube and opted for a hot shower.

His joints mobile again and finally feeling as if he could start his day, Heero grabbed an energy drink and a power bar from the commissary and then headed for the training field. He knew he was early, but he wanted to walk the field and the training facility to note any changes since his last evaluation. It wouldn't due to have his trainees know more than he did about the course.

"Fuck this, anyway," Heero muttered as he crushed his energy drink can and tossed it towards a receptacle meant for trainees to sit and cool off if they overextended themselves. The can landed on the cushioned seat and the mobile ac began to whir and cool the air inside as it sensed a presence.

Soft, Heero thought bitterly. That was the problem. Everything allowed for mistakes, for failures, for people to do less than their best. He needed to change that if he ever hoped to turn desk geeks into top notch field agents.

Heero pulled out his cell and called his field crew. "You better be working on my ship," he growled when someone answered.

"Sorry, sir," the mechanic said, sounding as if Heero had disturbed his sleep. "Une's orders. Your ship isn't going anywhere so it's been given low priority."

Heero's hand tightened on the cell in anger, finger joints aching, but still capable of turning the phone into random parts with a flex of muscles. He let those random parts scatter to the ground.

"Temper, temper."

Heero tensed and then turned angrily as he recognized Duo's voice. "Don't do that!"

"I don't think that's my responsibility," Duo retorted, but with a joking attitude. "You're the one allowing me to get inside your perimeter undetected."

Duo was wearing fatigues that were tight on the crotch and ass, and well worn in those areas. The camouflage pattern was almost nonexistent on his chest and knees. He was wearing black leather gloves without fingers as well and sturdy combat boots that had seen better days. Heero himself had opted for his old black stretch shorts and khaki shirt with the Preventer logo on the breast. His boots were hikers, meant to grip when he ran, climb walls, or land an incapacitating kick to an enemy.

Duo was looking around them as morning mist rose and sunlight began lighting up the course in a golden glow. The light also hit his brown hair, making random strands blaze like red fire. "I see a problem," he said sourly. "This course is too easy. We'll have to beef up section two, there, and-"

"I realized that already," Heero snapped, cutting him off. "I'll have maintenance make the changes for tomorrow's run."

Duo smiled as he cocked his head and looked sideways at Heero. "Give them two days, Heero. That's reasonable."

"Will you be this soft on the recruits?" Heero wondered acidly.

"I'm not being soft. Logistics is my specialty, Yuy," Duo informed him. "I know how long it takes to rebuild the course to new specifications. Two days is minimum. They'll have to work hard to complete the changes."

Heero knew that he was right, but he wasn't going to acknowledge it. He grunted as he finished his breakfast, waded up the wrapper, and swallowed as if he were eating gravel.

Duo was looking him over, he realized, purple eyes critical under long brown lashes. Evil pixie, Heero thought again, and wondered what genes had to combine to produce someone with eyes that big, a mouth that generous, and cheekbones that made the entire package look unreal. To top off looks like that with a braid that thick and long, when he was an infiltration expert, seemed madness.

Heero's jaw tightened at the scrutiny and then he bit out, "If you're going to violate regulations against fraternization while on duty, I'll have to file a formal complaint."

Duo snorted in amusement. "I can only completely follow that regulation if I'm stone cold dead, Yuy. I like men. I'm surrounded by men. Not much I can do about certain urges, you know? I wasn't ogling your abs, though, if that's what you were thinking. I'm assessing you for physical activity. Should I avoid calling on you to demonstrate certain techniques during training?"

"I passed my physical," Heero informed him as he moved to examine a low obstacle on the course.

"I'm sure you did," Duo replied, still with that damned tone of amusement. "But our hundred percent, even though it exceeds everyone else's, can still have weak spots that shouldn't be pricked at. Am I right?"

Heero countered, "Do you have any weak spots?"

"Right ankle," Duo replied. "It's been broken too many times. Once in awhile it folds when I stress it too much." He pointed to his back. "Skin graft still healing. It keeps me from being as flexible as I need to be on that side."

Duo made a hand gesture that implied, your turn.

Heero declined to list his aches and pains. He said instead, "Optimum."

Duo sighed. "That could mean just about anything. Well, I guess we'll find out, won't we, Iron Man?"

"Razor wire," Heero said.

Duo was quiet and then his mind made the connection, "Under the low poles? I'm not sure Une wants her recruits turned into sushi."

"Real danger makes real agents during training," Heero believed.

Duo considered it, his eyes tracking the obstacle as if following ghostly recruits through it. "Barbed wire. Less skin damage."

Heero glared and then shrugged irritably, hating how the motion made a shoulder twinge painfully. "I suppose you won't use shrapnel bombs either, during training?"

Duo gave Heero a look as if questioning his sanity. "Of course we'll use them."

That gave Heero an unexpected feeling of pleasure which he quickly clamped down on. Psych kept telling him that he needed to cure his enjoyment of destructive things, but, when they saved lives on his side of the battle, and cleared a field of enemies, he couldn't help a surge of pleased adrenaline. Even bombs that could only cause a concussive force and flesh wounds was enough to generate that feeling.

They began a back and forth session of suggestions for the course and curriculum, then, that was almost friendly, each relying on the expertise of the other as they walked the course several times and made mental notes.

"I will expect you to run the new course and set the record time, when the upgrade is completed," Duo said as they walked towards the training rooms, the rising sun warming Heero's back almost pleasantly.

Heero felt a small tick of trepidation. He was certain that he could run the course, but in record time? He wasn't at all sure about that. The thought of embarrassment, in front of a former Gundam pilot comrade, made him retort, "As long as you understand that you will be expected to complete it in record time as well?"

Heero was surprised when Duo admitted, "I'm not sure that I can."

Heero had stopped at that admission. Duo was standing with his hands in his pockets, head down, but eyes sparkling at Heero and mouth curved up in a smile. He was looking like a little boy who had just admitted to stealing a cookie.

"What...?" Heero wasn't certain what to say.

"Skin graft," Duo reminded him. "Bum ankle? They also tell me that I was probably tortured for weeks. I'm not running any courses at optimum physical speed. That's why I'm relying on you to set the standard for the recruits."

Duo began walking again and Heero stood for a moment before following. He wasn't sure how he felt about Duo's admission or the fact that he was now bound and determined to set a record that he wasn't certain that he could reach.

Tbc
- 1
- 2
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Crashing Down