//italics//

Part 2

Trowa stood at the doorway of the parlor, flute in hand. He had debated whether to play tonight; Quatre went to bed early pleading a headache. But the emerald-eyed boy had been feeling out of sorts lately, and knew that his music could soothe him enough to get some much-needed rest.

Feeling another presence in the room, Trowa quickly flipped on the lights. Sitting morosely on the ledge of the parlor's window was Duo, looking small and lonely in the moonlight. The American looked up.

"Oh. Hi Trowa." That dejected voice did not seem to belong to the chipper pilot he new.

Trowa took a step into the room and then paused uncertainly. "I didn't mean to intrude. I was just going to play a little music before bed but if you'd rather be alone..."

Duo smiled wanly at the normally silent pilot's influx of words. "Please stay. I'd...rather not be alone. And I love listening to you play."

Trowa walked the rest of the way into the room, sitting on a stool set up next to Quatre's baby grand piano.

"There's only one condition..." Trowa's head tilted curiously at this statement. "You have to check your mask at the door."

Trowa agreed and allowed himself a small smile. They understood each other perfectly.

"Music is soothing to those who are troubled." He glanced sideways at Duo. "It may not relieve your troubles, but it may let you forget about them for awhile." The braided pilot nodded in agreement and Trowa began to play.

The flute sang hauntingly into the night, its Irish tune wonderful in its simplicity. Duo sighed and closed his eyes, letting himself drift into the melody. After a moment his found himself sitting in front of the piano, his dexterous fingers creating a wonderful counterpart to the Latin boy's flute.

Trowa gazed at his companion in wonder. He knew that Duo had learned to play the piano during his time at Maxwell Church, but he never got to witness it firsthand. The American had incredible skill. Trowa let himself be swept away by the blending harmonies, while Duo's began to sing.

//"Like every young man, I had some things that I wanted to say.
Ere I could begin, you know the world got in my way.
Oh Lilah, to sleep like a baby.
To open the window and feel the fair wind.
Oh Lilah, to sleep like a baby again.

We spend so much time weeping and wailing and shaking our fists.
Creating enemies that really don't exist.
Oh Lilah, to sleep like a baby.
To open the window and feel the fair wind.
Oh Lilah, to sleep like a baby again.

All these comings and goings that cut like a knife.
These small simple pleasures that make up a life.
A man needs a home and a child and a wife
To always be there-always

After I'm gone, there are some things that I know I will miss:
The taste of your mouth; the smell of the perfume on your wrist.
Oh Lilah, the fields lie fallow
Whate'r ye sow, so shall ye reap
Oh Lilah, the river's still shallow
But the riverbed is dark and deep.
Oh Lilah, the fields lie fallow
Whate'r ye sow, so shall ye reap
Oh Lilah, this ground we hallow
Is ours to tend but not to keep.

Too-rah, loo-rah, loo-rah Lilah
Too-rah, loo-rah, loo-rah lay
Now, while all the streets are silent
Take my hand and come away
Too-rah, loo-rah, loo-rah Lilah
Too-rah, loo-rah, loo-rah lay
Too-rah, loo-rah, loo-rah Lilah
Too-rah, loo-rah, loo-rah lay..."//

The music died away and the two sat for a long time in companionable silence. Trowa slowly placed his flute on the piano and went to sit beside the other boy. Hesitating briefly, he placed his had over Duo's. The braided pilot did not look up, but after a moment; he spoke, his voice husky from overuse.

"We should do that again sometime."

"Yes...I think we should."

Duo looked up and Trowa was nearly lost in the depth of those beautiful indigo eyes. The other boy seemed equally entranced. Coming to a decision, Trowa opened his mouth to speak.

"Duo."

The two jumped guiltily away from each other as Heero entered the room. He stood, fist clenched at his sides, staring fiercely at Trowa.

"Hey Heero," Duo smiled weakly. "Find anything?"

"Hai. But it will wait till morning." He didn't even look at the American.

Duo yawned and stood; the mask now firmly in place. "Well, I better hit the hay then. Need to be rested for the mission and all." He walked slowly by the HeavyArms pilot.

"Goodnight, Trowa." He said softly.

"Goodnight, Duo."

Heero heard the exchange and narrowed his eyes as Duo walked towards the door with a cheerful "C'mon Hee-chan!" He glared at the green-eyed pilot, who just sat there seemingly unfazed. The Japanese boy started to follow Duo but paused at the doorway.

"He's mine." The words were softly spoken yet tinged with the threat of violence to anyone who disagreed with him.

"I think that's for Duo to decide." Came the equally soft and lethal reply.

The Wing pilot stood there a moment more, his back to Trowa, visibly controlling his rage. He walked away without another word, flipping the lights off as he went.

Trowa sat there, in the darkness for a long, long time.

Glancing up as if suddenly realizing that the sun has long since set, WuFei forced his cramped muscles to move. He was cold, and it was time to go inside. The Chinese pilot couldn't help but think that wherever he went, this chill would haunt him.

Feeling suddenly guilty about giving Maxwell the brush off this afternoon, he turned towards the baka's room. Quatre's mansion was large enough so that they could all have separate accommodations. This suited Heero just fine, since he didn't have to listen to his lover's horrid taste in music. Something that WuFei, being right next door, had to deal with daily.

The Altron pilot stood outside Duo's doorway. As he lifted his hand to knock he heard a crash from inside. Moments later, a very distraught looking Heero ran past WuFei, not even aware that the Chinese boy was there.

WuFei rushed in the room, about to demand what the braided pilot had done to make the Perfect Soldier act like that. Seeing Duo, the words died on his lips.

"Maxwell..."

The self proclaimed God of Death was struggling to get up amongst the shards of a broken full-length mirror, wincing as every movement sent the shattered pieces deeper into his flesh. A dark bruise was already blossoming across the boy's cheek. Duo swayed and would have fallen if not for a pair of strong arms steadying him.

"Maxwell! What in God's name happened?" WuFei struggled to control his anger, when all he wanted to do is run after the Japanese pilot and give him his own brand of justice. But a calmer part of him stated that it would be dishonorable for him to leave his friend in this state.

"Just...opening my big mouth...again, Wu-man..."

"Come on, Maxwell. Let's get you cleaned up." He proceeded to carry the battered boy into the bathroom and set him gently by the sink.

"Thanks, Wu-chan." Duo said tiredly.

"Hn. Where do you keep your first aid kit?" WuFei searched the cabinets.

"Under the bed."

The sloe-eyed pilot grunted and came back with the first aid kit in hand. He proceeded to take an ice pack and break it, handing the rapidly cooling packet to his bruised companion.

"Here." He said gruffly. "For your cheek."

Duo flinched as he sat the ice pack gingerly on his heart shape face. WuFei hastened to remove every sliver of glass from the American's flesh, grumbling the whole time.

"These wouldn't be half as bad if you'd wear more clothes."

Duo glanced down at his black t-shirt and smiley-faced boxers. He smiled inwardly and took the bait.

"So Wu-man, what do you sleep in? A bulletproof vest? A suit of armor? Or maybe you sleep au natural? Hmm?"

WuFei snorted. Maxwell would be fine.

"Let me see your hands, baka." He gently took the tweezers to the stubborn shards nestled into the braided boy's palms. Duo leaned back with a wince.

"Sister Helen used to do this for me every time I got into a fight."He recalled aloud. "She'd lecture me about how fighting didn't solve anything as she was cleaning me up and then she'd kiss my scrapes to make them better." He looked hopefully at his friend.

"Forget it, Maxwell." WuFei saw the heartrending look in the other's eyes and something in him broke. He gently placed a kiss on Duo's uplifted palm. He stood swiftly.

"There. All better."

Duo reached over and gave the Chinese boy a quick hug.

"Thank you, Chang WuFei." WuFei cleared his throat in embarrassment.

"Yeah, well...try to get some sleep, huh?"

Duo grinned, or tried to because of the bruise, and saluted.

"Yes sir, Wu-tang, sir!"

WuFei smiled and closed the door. Then his eyes turned cold. It was time to pay a visit to a certain Perfect Soldier.

"Explain yourself, Yuy."

The Japanese boy looked up, his eyes puffy and haunted. "I've never hit him, ever. But he...he said that at least //he// treated him like a human being. I got mad, they were alone together after all, and I..." He closed his eyes in agony. "I didn't mean to."

"Jealousy? That's why you hit him? There isn't anyone to be jealous of! Maxwell hasn't been off the property in days and the only one who can stand to be around him for more than an hour is... Barton..." The Japanese boy's head shot up at the mention of that name and his expression turned cold. //Ah. So Yuy finally learned of the Latin pilot's attraction to the braided baka.//

"It's //his// fault." The Wing pilot stood up to go take care of the problem. WuFei blocked him.

"That still didn't give you the right to take it out on Maxwell. He could have been seriously injured."

"Is he alright?" Cobalt eyes clouded with worry.

"He has many lacerations and he's sporting one hell of a bruise, but he'll be fine." He felt Heero relax slightly under his hand.

"Leave me." The Perfect soldier was back.

WuFei nodded and walked away, but before he closed the door, he spoke.

"If you do that again, I won't be the only one who comes after you."

The boy was silent for a moment.

"Acknowledged."

Chapter 3

Shin Kidousenki Gundam Wing © Sunrise, Bandai, and Sotsu Agency.