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Hunter\'s Payne	By : KristinaMajc Category: Gundam Wing/AC > General Views: 790 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing/AC, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Hunter's Payne
- 2-Part 2
- 1
- 2
Writers note:

Hello readers. I am starting one
more book here. Like the book Naked in Death from J. D. Robb that story is not
my as well. Because Naked in Deathe was not accept with wecome mabey becasue it
is very known book. So I was thinking to start another story with rather not
very known but very very good autor as well. So I decided I will write the
story from �Joan J. Domining � Hunter's Payne� The book was putted out in year
1983 and I hope it is not so known story. Why? That way readers will want to
see the end of it more eagerly. Please don't be angry on me for using good
romance books but I love reading them and I want to sare them with you, with GW
carecters.

Title: So it begins!

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

Duo Maxwell walked through the sweltering heat
of downtown Denver.
The windows of towering buildings on either side of Fifteenth Street glared in the relentless
August sunlight. The roaring traffic and random shouts and laughter from the
crowd of tourist and native Coloradans on the busy congesreetreet seemed to
give the heat wave a voice. Even this early, at eleven in the morning, Duo
could smell the heat shimmering up from the asphalt and feel it scorch his feet
through the thin solos boots.

The revolving door ne one of the huge buildings
swept him mercifully into its air-conditioned lobby. He waited for a minute
until his eyes adjusted to the dim light, then studied the directory until he
touched the name he was looking for with his long slim fingers. O. Heero Yuy
& Associates, Photography. I seemed an insignificant title for what he
hoped would be his big chance.

Before he took the elevator, Duo stopped in the
rest room to peer at himself in the mirror. It was important that he look
capable, professional and mature. What he saw instead were a couple of worried,
purple-blue eyes, wheat-honey brown hair slipped away from the braid he wear
over his shoulders at the back over his head, and cheeks broiled ruddy as a
child�s from the sun. His brand-new gray suit had wilted in the heat.

�Damn,� he murmured. He was struggling to make
a place for himself in business where maturity and poise were imperative, and
even at his best he look younger than his twenty-six years. His tilted eyes and
brows over high cheekbones and a pointed chin gave him a kittenish look rather
than an image that might command respect. He couldn�t even claim beauty. Cute,
that�s what he was. �Damn,� he snorted again.

Duo worked for the New Colorado Review, a
floundering local magazine that specialized in reporting the entertainment, art
and recreational news in and around Denver.
His position was assistant to the editor, which meant he was a glorified
secretary and all around gofer. Not that he was complaining, because there were
thousands of journalism graduates who would kill for the change to be cctedcted
in any way with the publication. But he wanted more; he wanted to write his own
copy under his own by-line, for something bigger and more important, the Denver
Post, for example.

O. Heero Yuy could open the door to that
possibility. He was leading photographer in the area, one of the top ten in the
country, and quickly achieving international fame. And he had never granted an
interview � not because journalists didn�t try. He was besieged by the press.

Duo had pleaded with his boss for the time away
from the office to try to see the great O. Heero Yuy. When Dan Benedict had
finally grudgingly agreed � to get him out if his hair, Duo suspected � he had
laughed and asked, �What makes you think young man like you can succeed where
your elders and betters have failed?� Duo was determined to show him, and to
prove himself. If he could get this interview, he know he�d be allowed to
handle other assignments; then his career would bound ahead � to a beginning.
He had to prove that all those years of struggling to get a college education
were worth the effort.

The elevator whispered open to let him on and
whispered shut after him. He pressed the button market sixteen, and watched the
numbers flip above the door. What would O. Heero Yuy be like? An old man, he
imagined, dignified, with gray hairs suave. Duo had never seen him and knows
very little about him beyond the fact that he was important in the worlds of
photography and art.

A set of double glass doors immediately across
from the elevator bore the gold-lettered legend �O. Heero Yuy & Associates,
Photography.� Duo�s heart thumped like the feet of a frightened rabbit. Could
he pull it off? He had to. With a tug at his shirt and careful pat on the white
lace at his throat, he opened the door and stepped into the reception room of
the studio. Everything oozed subdued elegance, the thick, spongy azure
carpeting under his feet; the stark off-white walls decorated with groupings of
formal portraits intermingled with art shots of ordinary people caught in the
grip of extraordinary emotions. Several raw, overpowering oil paintings
dominated the room.

Duo gave his attention to the receptionist
sitting behind a polished desk, guarding the door into the studio itself. Deborah Horne, the name plaque informed.
Deborah graced the room in a long, lean, fashion-model manner, with heavy
auburn hair framing a face rich with graceful angles and high cheekbones. She
cupped her hand over the telephone receiver at her ear and gave Duo a smile.
�If you would care to take a seat, I�ll be with you as soon as I can,� she said
in low, husky voice. Duo turned away. So that was the kind of women who
appealed to O. Heero Yuy. His confidence began to crumble.

In a secluded ell off the room, there were
several comfortable lime-green and navy-blue chairs for clients who might have
to wait. Duo walked toward them. The only other person waiting blocked his
entrance with a pair of long legs stretched out in front of him, long legs and
a body to match. He was a normal high, like Duo himself, man dressed in faded,
tight blue jeans with a frayed hole in one knee, and a wrinkled, paint-smeared
work shirt with the sleeves rolled up over muscular arms.

Considering the worn cowboy boots covering the
feet crossed in Duo path and the battered, flat-crowned felt cowboy hat he had
tilted down over his forehead, Duo judged wryly that that man had to just come
in from the corral out back. He wandered what he was doing in a place like
this. He couldn�t see his eyes under the brim of his hat, but there was just
enough glint to let Duo know he was watching him. Duo waited for him to move
his legs to let him pass. He didn�t.

This left him with the choice of standing in
front of the receptionist�s desk like a naughty schoolboy or stepping over
stranger�s feet. He�d choose the last choice and stepped over the dusty boots
to take a seat in green chair. Strangers head and attention had fallowed him,
and he wasn�t helping Duo maintain his composure; there was to much blatant
masculinity under those disreputable clothes, the muscles and tan of an active
outdoorsman. He wished the stranger would stop watching him, and silently
cursed when his business bag dropped out of his nervous fingers. He picked it
up and glared at the man.

Duo could see that the stranger seemed aware
that he was bothering him, and his lips turned up in amusement as he hooked his
thumbs in his belt to let his fingers lie lightly on either side of the fly of
his tight jeans. Duo gave another silently curse, as he felt heat
rise from his neck to his face, and turned his attention deliberately toward
the pictures on the wall.

The receptionist murmured on, giving husky
instructions for a future appointment. As the minutes stretched, Duo felt his
equilibrium shattering. It wasn�t necessary to look at that � ranch hand� to
know that his eyes were traveling up and down Duos body. Duo curse himself for
not bringing with him a coat, because just with a shirt on he felt like naked
beside that stranger. So it was not surprised that his chest was tight with
anger.

After an eternity, Deborah hung up the phone
and moved gracefully around her desk to stand just on the other side of that
pair of long, disturbing legs. �I�m
sorry you had to wait,� she said, smiling at Duo. �How may I help you?� Her
cool unruffled exterior led Duo to believe that this young woman would never
let a trifling thing like a sensual man disturb her calm.

Duo stood up, hating having to present himself
over the man in the chair. �I like to make an appointment to have my portrait
done by Mr. Yuy,� he said. �As soon as possible. It�s rather important.� Very
important he thought. If he could get him alone, a captive audience, he could convince
him to let himself interview him.

�Oh,� Deborah said, looking sympathetic, �I�m
afraid we�re booked solid until next April; then one of Mr. Yuy�s associates
could fit you in.�

Duo�s heart sank. �But, I had particularly
wanted Mr. Yuy to do me.� He hesitated, and then added, �I�m a personal friend
of his. We knew each other years ago, and I�m sure he�d want to do my picture
for me.� His little lie seemed necessary.

Deborah hesitated for a least five seconds.
There was a fleeting, strangely distressed look on her flawless face. �Mr. Yuy
very seldom does any actual shooting in the studio,� she said. �His associates
handle that, but if you could leave your name and phone number, I�ll give him
your message.�

This wasn�t going the way Duo had planned. He
glanced angrily at the man in the chair. The smile on his face had widened. He
was enjoying Duos discomfort. �If he
hadn�t been here, disturbing every nerve in my body, I could have thought of
some way to get around this dilemma,� Duo thought. At least he didn�t have to
continue the conversation over stranger�s legs and tight pants.

He walked toward Deborah, stepping over boots,
deliberately letting one of his front shoe kick strangers ankle. But the grin
on stranger face made a bright white flash in the tan of his face. Duo hated
him. At the desk, Duo wrote his name on
a piece of paper, and jotted his office number. The call would come directly to
his desk, rather than go through the switchboard at the Review. He didn�t want
Yuy to know he worked for a publication until he had him softened up. If he had
any curiosity about his �old friend,� he would call him there, Duo hoped. �Tell
him I�ll wait for his call,� he said, handed the paper to Deborah. �It�s been
so many years, maybe he won�t remember me, but it�ll be fun to talk over old
times.� Duo gave her friendliest smile and turned to leave.

As he walked toward the door, he glanced at the
ranch hand. His knees turned to water and wobbled. The stranger had pulled
himself up in the chair, his elbows oh his knees. With his hat pushed back, he
looked at Duo with a pair of Prussian blue eyes. Duo never seen eyes like that,
and they made each fiber in his body twitch as if it had been jolted by an
electrical shock. He didn�t breathe until he was safely in the elevator. It
almost seemed to Duo that the stranger had meant to follow him. He huff a sigh
of relief that it wasn�t so and at the same time he felt bitter taste of
disappointment.

Out in the brutal sunlight on Fifteenth Street,
Duo put the intriguing ranch hand out of his mind and concentrated on how he
would present himself if O. Heero Yuy had enough curiosity to call him. It
would take finesse to talk him into an interview. As Duo drove his black
Volkswagen west on Colfax Avenue
back toward Lakewood, the western suburb of Denver where the Review
was located, he watched the mountains silhouetted against the blue sky in the
distance. They look gray and cool and protective. The metal roof of the car
radiated heat down on his head, and he could think of nothing more appealing
than to drive on past Lakewood
and keep going up the winding highway to the hills. The higher altitude and the
cool, piney air would certainly be easier to face than Dan Benedict, who
wouldn�t hesitate to remind him that his scheme to meet O. Heero Yuy was
harebrained and doomed to failure.

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

The offices of the New Colorado Review huddled
on a back street of downtown Lakewood,
struggling to keep up their appearances, just as the magazine was. Duo walked
in the front door, past the front desk, with a nod to the girl behind the
counter, and hurried through the main room with its clatter of typewriters and
idle conversation, toward his office in the back.

The only person who noticed him was Hank Mitchell,
a sandy-haired man with a sweet smile and flashing dimples, who, when he wasn�t
pursuing Duo, wrote most of the copy for the Review. He threw Duo a kiss as he
disappeared into his office in the back of the building. It was impossible not
to compare Hank to that damned, seductive cowboy in the studio, and poor Hank
paled dismally.

Duo shrugged of his jacket, hung it over the
back of his chair and sat down to look around the minuscule, stuffy little
office. The walls were drab, his desk was scarred and cluttered with busy work,
and the room was barely bid enough to hold the desk, a couple of chairs and a
bank of filing cabinets. He picked up a crystal paper weight and turned it
slowly, watching the light reflect rainbows through its convoluted inner core.
His life didn�t have room for a relationship, not even nice, friendly, safe one
with Hank, until he could prove that he could live up to his fathers example.

Yet he couldn�t stop the turbulence and itch
inspired by those cobalt blue eyes of the cowboy. Putting the paperweight down,
he stretched to pull his damp, shirt way from his perspiring back. The material
clung to his chest, and the sensation brought the image of the cowboy�s broad
shoulders back into full focus in his mind. Duo wondered dreamily what it might
be like to have his chest pressed against that hard chest. Then he dropped his
arms angrily. That man had been annoying, irritating, inconsiderate, and
egotistical. He turned to the paperwork on his desk. A sloppy, presumptuous man
� and he had been laughting at Duo because he couldn�t ignore him. Thank
goodness he�d never see him again.

By the time Duo had answered ten letters from
disgruntled readers and had made eight calls to nightclubs around the area to
inquire about up-and-coming entertainment, he had passed beyond charming and
his stomach complained, reminding him that he had forgotten to eat lunch. The
second hand of the clock on the wall ticked too slowly, and it was only
four-fifteen, leaving another three-quarters of an hour before he could go home
to a cool-no, of cold � shower and something tall and icy to drink.

With a sigh, he dabbed the wet beads on his
upper lip with a fingertip, and unbuttoned one more button on his shirt. Then
he got up to file the copies of the letters he had written in the filling
cabinet in the corner. Before he had finished, Dan Benedict appeared in his
open door, startling him. He frowned and opened his mouth to protest that he
was in no mood to hear any of his smart remarks about his O. Heero Yuy scheme.
He looked at him and didn�t speak.

Dan was a heavy, shaggy man in his sixties, and
at this particular moment, he was standing straighter than Duo had ever seen
him. His face held a stunned expression that killed any flip remark Duo might
have planned to make.

Before Duo could ask what the problem was, he
said, �Here�s someone to see you Duo.� He stood aside for his visitor to enter,
then withdrew, without another word, to close the door.

Duo closed his eyes briefly, every bit of his
embarrassment surging up to remind him of that miserable encounter in the
studio, downtown. He opened his eyes and clutched the edge of the filing drawer
with white knuckles. �What are you doing here?� he demanded angrily. �Did you
follow me?� All he needed was trouble from someone like that man.

The ranch hand was too big for his little
office; he crowded it uncomfortably. The man himself didn�t match either the
grubby office or his shabby clothes. He was as devastating in Duo little
cubbyhole as he had been in the glamorous downtown studio. His cowboy hat was
set square across his forehead, and those sharp cobalt blue eyes bored in Duo�s
angry purple blue ones.

�Hello to you, too, Mr. Duo Maxwell.� His voice
was deep as his chest and sent a chill up Duo�s spine. �No, I didn�t follow
you; I picked up the phone, and the telephone company was nice enough to give
me the address for this number.� Duo looked blank. The stranger smiled
slightly, not a terribly friendly smile. �You left your name and number with O.
Heero Yuy�s receptionist, remember?�

How could he forget, thought Duo? He was not
proud of his performance in front of the glamorous Deborah Horne and this, this
� louse. �That certainly wasn�t for your benefit. What do you want, anyway?� he
snapped.

The cowboy stuck his hands in his back pockets
and looked around the room lazily; then he hunched his shoulders and let them
drop. �You sure keep it hot here.�

�So leave, then,� Duo said.

But cowboy didn�t acknowledge his rudeness. �So
you work for a newspaper? You�re a reporter?�

�It�s not a newspaper, it�s a magazine, and no,
I�m not a reporter, I�m an assistant to the editor, if it�s any of your
business.� He held the letters in his hand stiffly in front of his chest as a
fruitless barrier against his eyes.

Now, cowboy ambled toward Duo, trapping him in
the corner with the filing cabinet, and stopped a couple steps away from him.
�You don�t care much for me, do you?� Those blue eyes under the hat were
laughting at him.

At five feet and a little less than five
inches, he looked straight ahead at cowboy�s collarbones and at the tiny pulse
that beat between them. Cowboy was well over six feet tall maybe taller then
himself. When Dou looked up into his face, he had the annoying feeling that it
looked as if he was turning his head up for a kiss. A kiss � He dropped the
letters in the drawer and escaped from his corner to sit in the swivel chair at
his desk. It was the safest position in the room.

�I don�t care one way or another about you. Why
shouldn�t I? I don�t even know you. All I know is that you were making fun of
me back in that studio and I didn�t like it.�

Cowboy took his hands out of his back pockets
and sat on the front edge of Duos desk. There was a key ring with several keys
in his hands, and he tossed it in the air a couple of times, watching it fall,
catching it deftly. �You aren�t an old friend of O. Heero Yuy�s. You�ve never
met him.�

Duo felt an incriminating blush creep up his
neck. He leaned back in his back in his swivel chair and rocked angrily. �How
would you know whether I have or haven�t�

�Because you can�t lie worth a damn. Guilt is
smeared all over your face like jam. Besides, I got it straight from him that
he�d never heard from you.�

Duo now sat up. �Straight form him?� His brow
furrowed as he thought for a second. �What are you, then, his bodyguard?� It
was possible. He was big and strong enough, in his prime at maybe thirty-three
or �four; and despite his sloppy garb, he looked intelligent. For an instant,
Duo wondered if he could get to Mr. Yuy through him. That idea died as soon as
it was conceived. No one would be stupid enough this man.

Bodyguard? Let�s just say I look out for O.
Heero Yuy�s interests,� he said with a nasty little smile. He put down the keys
he had been holding and picked up the crystal paperweight to look its depth,
then tossed it in the air and caught it.
�What�s your interest in O. Heero Yuy?�

Duo watched the paperweight, and then he caught
it himself on the next toss and put it firmly on the desk. �It�s valuable,� he
said, �It belonged to my father. I don�t want it broken.� He decided to use
honesty. �I�d like to interview Mr. Yuy. He had never had a personality sketch
printed, and the public in interested in people of his stature. They like to
read about how other people become successful, where they came from, what they
dream about, about their families and their home life. He�s such a private
person that he encourages curiosity.�

The man
on the edge of his desk leaned in toward Duo�s face. �An interview for you to
write up, especially about someone like O. Heero Yuy, would get you out of this
hot little office, wouldn�t it? Send you right on to bigger and better things?�

Duo leaned back, away from him. �Is that bad?�
he asked under cowboys piercing look.

The man leaned closer. O. Heero Yuy does not
like to be hassled by the kind of extortionist who would come into his studio
and claim to know him. He is indeed a private person, and he has that right.�
He leaned further in, and Duo shrank in his chair. His finger spindled the middle
of the bare spot on his chest where the shirt was unbuttoned. �Don�t try
anything like that again. You leave him alone.�

For a few seconds, Duo was paralyzed by the
finger and the threatening tone in his voice, and stared up at him, with wide
eyes. Then he slapped his finger away and sat up straight. �And if I don�t, is
it your job to take me into some dark alley and beat me up? You�re bigger then
me, so that should make you proud.� He�d be damned if he�d let him see how he
had frightened him. Beside, all he had to do was to call and at least four
people would be in his office in a flash.

His sharp blue eyes lost their threat, and he
grinned. �I could think of better things to do with you in a dark alley.� His
eyes brushed the damp shirt clinging to his chest.

Duo jumped up, sending his chair rolling back,
�You get out of here, you egotistical snob.� But he didn�t move, and Duo began
to shake with anger. �You�ve delivered your message. That�s what you come for, isn�t
it? Now, get out, and don�t you ever, ever come back here.�

Cowboy looked at him speculatively for a
minute; then he tapped his hat further down over his eyes and left. Duo stared
after him, thinking: of all the presumptuous, overbearing � Then he took a deep
breath and sat down. So much for O. Heero Yuy. He�d got a fine report about
him. He dropped his head in disappointment. The ranch hand�s keys lay oh his
desk, where he had forgotten them. �Damn,� he said. �Damn, damn, damn!� He
threw the keys in his drawer and slammed it shut.

Five minutes later, when Dan Benedict poked his
head through the door, Duo had his chin propped oh both files as he sat behind
hesk esk sulking. He grinned happily and walked in to stand like a disheveled
bear in front of him. �How did you do it?� he asked in his gravelly voice.
�Here I�ve been laughting at you, and you�ve gone ahead and done what no one
else could do. I�ve got to hand it to you. How did you manage? What kind of
magic did you use?� His eyes beamed at Duo form under his bushy eyebrows.

Duo looked up at him, puzzled, his chin still
on his files. �How�d I do what?�

He raised his eyebrows. �Get O. Heero Yuy right
her into this building, right into this room with you. Whlse?lse?�

Duo stared at him blankly. �What are you
talking about? His fists dropped, and he stiffened his shoulders slightly under
the weight of his suspicion.

Dan stared back at him, and then he lowered his
brows. �You mean you didn�t know that was O. Heero Yuy here, visiting you? How
could you not know?�

�You saw him. He looked like a bum,� he said
defensively. �I thought he was a bodyguard. I thought � �His first ground into
his forehead, and he squeezed his eyes shut in realization of his stupidity.

Dan reached out and patted Duo on his shoulders.
�He was probably checking you out. Don�t worry. This is the closest he�s ever
come to letting one of our kind talk to him. He�ll be back.�

Opening his eyes, Duo pushed his fists back
over his ears so he wouldn�t have to hear his reaction when he said, �I don�t
think so. I kicked him out. I told him to never, never come back.�

Dan glowered at him in amazement. Then he
turned his back, shoved his hands in his pants pocket and stared out of the
cloudy, dirty window. Finally he turned around and glared at Duo with steely
eyes. �I didn�t hear what you just said, young man,� he growled, �but if you
don�t straighten out this gross imbecility and smooth things over with Yuy, I
am going to fire you. All we need right now, with all of our other problems, is
to have one of my staff insult O. Heero Yuy.�

Duo put his palms on his cheeks to support his
miserable head. �You don�t have to fire me,� he said, �I�m making plans to jump
off a cliff.�

�Good!� Dan said sharply, walking to the door,
�but first you apologize to Yuy.� He stalked out, leaving the door open so
anyone who might be passing could glance in an see Duo�s humiliation.

The seconds ticked off on the clock on the
wall. Duo didn�t move. His elbow hurt from pressing on his desk. His head
ached, and his body had cramped after half on hoursilesilent, motionless
self-castigation. He could hear the people in the other rooms closing up shop
and

getting ready to leave. He felt abandoned
and hopeless. He had no doubt that Dan meant what he said, and he�d never get another
chance to work for any kind of publication if he lost this job. �Fool,� he
muttered. It seemed so obvious now, why couldn�t he have seen it when O. Heero
Yuy himself had been in from of him? Because all Duo had seen was a delicious
man, and he�d been too busy trying to prove it hadn�t affected every gland in
his body, that was why. He stared at the paperweight dismally. The great O.
Heero Yuy wouldn�t let him get within a mile of him, after the way he�d treated
him. He might as well kiss this dingy little office good-bye.

Finally, he lifted his head and stood up. And
sat down abruptly. The great O. Heero Yuy lounged in his doorway, watching him.
He opened his mouth, but for the life of his, he couldn�t think of a word to
say.

He pushed away from the door frame with a
shoulder and walked to Duos desk to take his place on the edge. �I take it,
from the expression on your face, that the secret is out.� He grinned.

�Don�t ever try to con anyone again; you�re as
transparent as this piece of glass.� He held up the paperweight, and then put
it down again carefully.

At the sound of his voice, the frozen gears in
Duo�s brain began to move. He considered how to present himself, after the way
he had treated him. For some unfathomable reason, he must have intrigued him
with his impertinence, so it wouldn�t be wise to do an about-face and become
ingratiating. Leaning back in his desk chair and rocking slightly, he smiled.
�You�re a fine one to talk about conning, Mr. Yuy. Bodyguard, indeed.�

Reaching up, he pushed his hat back on his head
with a thumb. Thick, damp dark brown or rather black hair lay on his forehead.
�I couldn�t resist. You�re so gullible.�

�I made your whole day, didn�t I, with that
little joke of your?� Duo squirmed slightly in his chair. He hateingeing made a
fool of. �I wasn�t gullible not to recognize you. I didn�t dream O. Heero Yuy
would come dressed like that, and with a hole in the knee of his pants.�

He picked at the frayed threads on the knee
bent over the edge of the desk. His fingers were surprisingly slim and
sensitive-looking for such a Duo Duo thought. �I�ve been working, and I had to
go into Denver
on an errand. It was so hot that I stopped at the studio to cool off for a
while in the air conditioning.� He looked up and let his cobalt blue eyes roam
over Duo. �It�s lucky I did or I�d never had known what a cute little �old
friend� I had.� Then he laughed. �Don�t you waste a lot of energy blushing like
that whenever someone looks at you?�

Duo rocked in staccato jerks. �Why did you come
back?� he asked.

�You mean after you told me never, ever to show
my face around here again? He asked smugly.

An apology would be pointless, when it was
obvious that he hadn�t taken his words to heart anyway, Duo thought. �Are you
considering, just possible, letting me do a personal sketch about you? He
asked.

His eyes chilled, and the hat was tapped down
abruptly over his forehead. �Not likely, and don�t ever consider making
something out of what little you have now. If you write one word about me, I�ll
sue your pretty ass off for invasion of privacy.� There wasn�t the trace of a
smile on his lips. �I came back for my keys. I must have left them on your
desk.�

Keys. He forced himself not to glance he
he
desk drawer. �What keys?� he asked, looking around. �I haven�t seen them. Maybe
you dropped them somewhere else.� Duo rocked slowly, keeping his face bland and
innocent. �You can see they aren�t on the desk or the floor. There isn�t enough
space in this office to misplace anything.�

He sat silently looking at Duo, and then he
thumbed his hat back again. �Well, that�s a problem. They aren�t between here
and the care. I looked. I�ve got an important meeting in� � he glanced up at
the clock; it ready five-thirty � �a little less then two hours. How am I going
to get home, change and get to the meeting without my care keys?�

�I suppose I can drive you home. You must have
an extra set of keys, and we can come back for the care,� Duo offered.

�Now, that�s very thoughtful of you, Mr. Maxwell,�
he drawled, �but home is on the other side of Evergreen, about thirty miles
from here. Is the offer still good?�

�Evergreen,� Duo repeated, if considering it.
That was great. Given an hour or so in the car with him, he couldn�t help but
make a favorable impression oh him. �Why not? After sitting here in this heat,
a drive in the mountains would be heaven.� He smiled. �And my name is Duo.� He
stood up and pick up his leather jacked.

He watched him. �Mine is O. Heero Yuy, and
don�t you forget about that dark alley if you have any intention of writing a
word about me.�

�Understand,� Duo struggled into his jacket.

�But you can call me Heero if you behave
yourself.� He followed Duo out of his office.

TBC

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Hunter\'s Payne