“Heero was close to him now. His hands were on Duo's hair, sweeping it away from his face. Heero palmed Duo's face in his hands. And, all the while, like some enraptured fool, Duo found himself breathing heavily. He was panting. And it distressed him even more that so was Heero. His former koi's breath was just as fractured and desperate as his own. The realization came: it was the same between them, even after all those months apart... Heero's hands were warm on his face. He felt Heero's thumbs stroking the sides of his lips with tender sweeps… The thought came again. Oh, God nothing had changed. They still had it, the same chemistry, the same fire…

“What are you doing,” asked Duo in a barely audible whisper. His breath stopped entirely as he watched Heero's face begin to move closer to his own. (excerpt from part 4)

Unforgettable encounters lead to unexpected actions…

It wasn't until 10 minutes into the flight that Dorothy realized her folly. She'd been so distracted fretting over what Heero could have possibly said to Quatre, she'd been so irritated by Mariemeia's determination to tag along that she'd forgotten the obvious: she had no idea where Heero was…

She was seatbelted in. Outside the window was the darkening night sky and endless row of billowing clouds, yet Dorothy's gaze was directed to straight in front of her. She brought a shaky hand to her cheek. How could she have made such an oversight? What was she going to do? Drop in on Quatre and ask if he knew where Heero was? Dorothy paled two full shades. A half an hour into the flight, Dorothy's reasons for worrying multiplied. The pilot's voice came overhead, announcing that the route that was on the original itinerary was no longer viable since it was considered restricted air space due to peak hostilities between two countries. Even during these times of the Earth Unified Peace Treaty the occasional border war was a given… Dorothy closed her eyes. A nerve behind a forked eyebrow twitched erratically. The pilot continued to drone on informing her and Mariemeia that the countries bordering the two feuding nations were temporarily closing their airspace due to fear of terrorist backlash for their neutrality…

The explanations continued on and culminated in a most troubling result: they would have to take an alternate route which would turn the two hour flight into an 8 hour ordeal.

Across the aisle, Mariemeia watched Dorothy in amusement. The older woman had sunk down in her seat. Her graceful white hands kneaded her temples with furious circles.

Duo lay in his own bed. A few feet away, in another twin bed Quatre was fast asleep. The man's even breathing was a comforting hum of soft inhalations and gentle expulsions of air. Duo stared up at the ceiling. It was funny. It was only around midnight and they were already in bed. Was this how it would be once the child was born? Or, even earlier nights? Would they end up sharing the same sleeping hours as the geriatric population? Or, end up not catching a wink of sleep because of the wailing of a newborn babe? Who knew?

Duo lifted his hand. Through the curtained windows, moonlight filtered in and he was able to see the shadowy image of his hand. The platinum gold band and amber stone were able pick up the gentle moonlight. Duo turned his hand a little and scrutinized the ring. His brow furrowed. He'd never received anything like it. What was he supposed to do with jewelry? It was so frivolous. The most adornment he'd ever had was a cross and a watch when he remembered to wear one…

What was he supposed to do with this ring? What did it mean? Did it mean anything? Bah. Of course, not. The blond was generous. Overly, so. He could afford it. But it wasn't about the price, was it?

Duo frowned a little. He was being an idiot. He'd received gifts before. Hell, he'd given them. In the dark, a tiny sad laugh escaped Duo. He used to give Heero gifts. And, Heero even gave him stuff. Although it was something always practical, something always well thought out. For instance, on one of their anniversaries Heero had gotten him tires with shiny hubcaps for his car. It was great…they came in great use and they looked pretty good…but damn…they were so practical. And for his “birthday” (the day he and Heero agreed would serve as his birthday), Heero had taken him to an auto show. An auto show for Christ's sake. Another laugh escaped Duo, but this time he forgot to add a note of bitterness to the low chuckle. Heero meant well, but he knew absolutely nothing about heartfelt gift giving…Duo sighed. But he supposed Heero had meant it to mean more. Heero knew he had a furious obsession with cars (the automobile lust was no doubt a meager attempt at a replacement for his love for D-hell) and even to this day he still had a passion for automobiles that bordered on mania…

For a moment, Duo forgot about the hand, forgot about the ring and stared up at the ceiling. He'd given Heero gifts of course. Granted they were also ultimately practical, but he'd gotten each item on a whim. He strolled into stores without an objective. For instance, a couple weeks before Heero pulled his ditch job, Duo was taking such a stroll, saw a red shirt, decided Hee-chan could use a dose of color in his life and he bought it. But there were times when his purchases weren't so benign and Heero had surprised him by taking them anyway.

~*(Begin Flashback)*~

“Here ya go, Heero. It just screams 'you'.”

Warily, Heero looked at the white gift box Duo had thrust under his nose.

Duo made a face. “Christ, Heero. It's not going to blow up in your face. Take the damn box.”

There came a snort from Heero who still didn't look convinced. He set the box on his lap. It was a slim, long box. Heero removed the cover, pushed away the tissue paper, and lifted out a tie…a blue, white, and purple polka-dotted tie. It was a gaudy, atrocious thing that deserved to be used for target practice. And the horror on Heero's face was enough to send Duo over the top with laughter. But somehow he managed not to give his amusement away. Duo bit down hard on his lip, hard enough that he actually drew a few dots of blood.

In the most serious voice he could manage, he leaned over to Heero and asked, “What? You don't like it?”

By that time, Heero had managed to do away with facial expression altogether, but he still betrayed his distaste as he said, “You expect me to wear this?”

“Why else would I have bought it?” Duo held back a snicker. Heero was eyeing the tie as if it were some bizarre life form that had the audacity to crawl from under its rock, cozy up onto his lap, and slither its way into his hands. He held the tie at arm's length between two fingers before dropping it back into the box.

“Oi, Heero, don't forget we're eating out tonight...since neither of us managed to get groceries.” Duo quickly left Heero and went to the bathroom. He turned on the shower to stifle his laughter, laughter that was soon to be short lived.
~*(End flashback)*~

Duo resisted the urge to turn onto his side. He continued to stare up at the ceiling. Immersed in his thoughts, immersed in memories, he didn't realize that Quatre's even spaced breathing had stopped to be replaced by its usual flow. It seemed neither of them was resting.

~*(Begin Flashback)*~

It was later that day and Duo had forgotten about the tie. He'd slipped on some dark denims, a black loose shirt, and pulled on some black boots. He was freshly showered and ready to grab some grub. He strolled out of the bedroom and used his fist to pound on the bathroom door.

“Heero, come on already. I'm starving.”

“Give me a minute,” came Heero's voice. It was muffled by the door.

“Yeah, sure…” Impatient, Duo tapped his foot. His stomach gurgled and he frowned. He was about to mutter a complaint when, true to his word, Heero opened the bathroom door a minute later.

“…” For a moment, Duo was knocked speechless. His eyes moved up Heero's form. They took in tailored black dress pants, a sharp looking black jacket over a white crisp shirt. Duo's eyes bulged. Heero was wearing a suit? And then his mouth fell open when he saw what was the finishing touch to the formal attire was…the god awful, ugly tie he'd given to Heero earlier that day.

There was a long moment of silence before Duo muttered in disbelief, “You're wearing the tie?…” The expression on Duo's face waffled between surprise and incredulity.

Calm as ever, his face deadpan, Heero replied, “I decided that I may look ridiculous wearing it. But, you're the one who has to be seen with me.”

“Gahh…Heero, you're not wearing that…it was a joke…you know…ha ha…just to get a rise out of you.”

“We're going to be late,” said Heero while moving out of the doorway of the bathroom. “I made reservations--”

“Wait a minute…I thought we were grabbing a quick bite…” Duo watched as Heero stood before his bureau.

There came a snort from Heero as he pulled something out of his dresser before saying, “And, I thought we could use an occasion to showcase your bad taste in ties.”

“Heero… you bastard,” murmured Duo. But as he said it he was grinning like an idiot.
~*(End Flashback)*~

In the dark, Duo sighed, “Go to sleep, Maxwell. Go to sleep.” He'd turned on his side. The hand with the ring was on his pillow inches away from his lips as he murmured the words that didn't fail to reach Quatre's ears.

Dorothy awoke. Her hair was in disarray. Long, blonde, and slightly damp with night sweats it was wrapped around her form. She twisted in her platinum confines. The jet arrived at its destination 4.a.m., they'd checked into the hotel a half an hour later, and she'd slumped into bed at 5.

She was quite amazed as she spied the time. Despite, her anxieties, she'd managed to sleep until 11 a.m. She sat up in bed and gathered her hair so that it swept behind her instead of adhering to her hot damp skin. The sleep, although it had been a restless state, had afforded her with an idea. She'd shower, make herself look like something other than a creature that had washed up on some beach, and then she'd put in a call in to the private investigator. Surely, he'd be able to locate Heero. With that, Dorothy began undressing as she walked to the shower.

Mariemeia smirked. She'd forgotten the delight of brunch. It still surprised her each and every time. Everyday was a new beginning. She'd called for room service, not quite feeling up to dealing with waiters who hovered at arms' length for longer than they were needed. She used her spoon to scoop out another spoonful of grapefruit. She'd sprinkled the halves of the fruit with sugar. And it was great, the mix of tartness mingled with bursts of sweetness. Her brow furrowed for a moment. She chewed, swallowed and then wiped at her mouth with a napkin.

She should call Lady Une before she forgot. She leaned across to pull her hand bag from its hanging position on the back of a chair. The comm unit was tugged from inside the bag and the leather article was tossed onto the bed.

“Lady Une,” murmured Mariemeia to the open unit.

With its usual voice command efficiency the small unit began dialing Une's residence. No answer. Mariemeia frowned. “Lady Une's office.” The little unit complied. No answer. Mariemeia leaned forward, daring the unit to defy her again. “Lucreztia Noin's office.” More of that infernal dialing and no answer.

At that point, the brunch was forgotten. “Hang up,” murmured Mariemeia. She'd try one more number. “Preventer Wind's office.” The unit dialed and after three rings it was answered and Mariemeia was rewarded with Milliardo Peacecraft's face.

~*(Begin Flashback)*~

“Such long hair and look at that fierce expression,” murmured Marimeia as she peered back at Milliardo Peacecraft's photo. It was dated, by several years and stood as a relic of the days from when he was the leader of White Fang. “You were father's toy and then you rebelled…” She laughed a little, it was a short laugh punctuated by a dainty snort. “He may have died because of your foolishness, but who's the one paying?” She shook her head, looked up, and peered around her empty bedroom.

She was doing it again: talking to photographs…

Mariemeia shook her head. It wasn't her fault. She'd spent most of her life having to resort to photographs to remember people. The captured images had almost come to take on the significance of people to her. She guarded her scrapbooks with ferocity.

Her mother was dead. Her father was dead. Her uncle was dead. The man that had promised to make her the leader of all nations was…dead. She could go on spewing the names of people who had been untimely ripped from her. With them, staring at their photographs made sense. They were gone. But, when did this habit carry over to the living?

Her finger moved over Milliardo Peacecraft's face. It glided over the picture's waxy surface. Another sigh escaped her. How she wanted to call Milliardo by the name he used while working in her father's employ. Zechs Merquise. It had presence. It was sharp and arresting like a bullet shot from the barrel of a gun. It got one's attention with its deadly undertones.

Not Milliardo…It was too weak for such a rebellious man.
~*(End Flashback)*~

Milliardo's voice was calm and cool. Mariemeia arched an eyebrow. Despite the soothing timber of his voice, she could discern tell-tale signs of concern on his chiseled but somewhat harried features.

Mariemeia nodded silently, slowly accepting his words.

“Une is now in Meranda. Noin has taken up relations in Cronin. I'll leave within an hour to hold things down at the border.” Millardo's eyes bored into Mariemeia's. “Une doesn't approve of you living alone. She'd prefer that you remain with Dorothy until we return.”

Unconsciously, Mariemeia cringed.

The tiny flinching motion didn't escape Milliardo's notice. His voice skirted on stern as he said, “Une was rather firm on the matter. If need be, I can smooth things over with Dorothy myself.” There was a pause before Millardo added, “I can't stand to think of you returning home only to be alone.” His gaze had been just as direct before; his voice had been just as steady as he uttered those last stirring words.

Mariemeia's breathing faltered. But she managed a nod before saying faintly, “I can handle my own cousin.”

Milliardo nodded at this and said his goodbyes before cutting the line of communication.

And it was strange for Mariemeia, this moment that had passed too quickly for her liking. She found herself falling into an old habit as a comfort. Her hand left the comm unit and placed itself over her breast, where below her blouse a circular wound had healed and left a white circular scar as a reminder. The old wound seemed to ache with any contact with the Peacecrafts. But the pain was slight and filled her with pride with every throb.

Dorothy was freshly coiffed and ready for her call to Aidan Barker, the private investigator she'd hired to keep tabs on Quatre and Duo.

She smoothed a forked-eyebrow with one of her index fingers as her suite's comm unit dialed the man in her employ.

The unit rang twice before Aidan Barker appeared on screen. His prematurely white hair was smoothed away from his clear, youthful face. His grayish-blue eyes glinted in recognition as they peered back at Dorothy Catalonia. He quickly stuffed the remains of a donut into his mouth. He chewed quickly and dry swallowed before saying, “Good morning, Miss Catalonia. You're looking ravishing as usual.”

Barker's voice was all silk but Dorothy couldn't help but eye the crumbs that littered his chin and lower lip. She looked back at him, slightly disgusted by his slovenly appearance. She didn't mince words. Barker had a penchant for small talk and she was in no mood for it. “Barker, I've decided to make things interesting for you.”

“Interesting? Meaning you're going to ask me to do something more than usual?”

“Yes--”

“It'll cost you extra, Miss Catalonia. Good looks will only get you so far with me.”

Dorothy frowned at him, but she managed to subdue her distaste. “I understand,” she said tersely. “A 20 percent increase for your fee today.”

Barker was all smiles. “That sounds just about right.”

Dorothy's expression momentarily brightened, only momentarily. “Well, it's settled then. Leave Mr. Maxwell and Mr. Winner alone for today. I need you to find Heero Yuy for me.”

Barker was grinning like mad. “Sounds easy enough.”

“Easy?” Dorothy didn't bother quelling a snort. It came out full force as her eyes narrowed. “There isn't one aspect of Heero Yuy that is *easy,* as you put it. It will take everything you have to track down that infuriating man.”

“Miss Catalonia,” murmured Barker in the low sweet tone of a lover. “I'm going to have to contradict you. Heero Yuy is undoubtedly the easiest target I've ever been assigned.”

“What--”

Barker cut her off to say, “Because he's sitting right in front of me.”

~*(Begin Flashback)*~

Aidan Barker enjoyed his job as a private detective. He frowned. Too bad he couldn't make a decent profit off of it. He spent most of his earnings bribing busboys, hotel managers, clerks, anyone who would have possible contacts with his targets in order to get information. The result was simple: he always succeeded at his assignments but he made less than an attendant of a two-bit gas station.

Aidan slumped in his car seat. He turned his head slightly and looked across the street at The Orion, the hotel where Mr. Maxwell and Mr. Winner were staying. He'd spoken to one of the attendants and apparently Mr. Maxwell and Mr. Winner had planned some kind of excursion for the morning. This little tidbit the attendant had gleaned from eavesdropping on the two as he served them breakfast. Aidan grabbed his car keys from their resting place on the passenger side seat. He turned and placed a key into the ignition, gassing up that car with light taps of his foot before he turned the key. The car rumbled into life under him. He glanced at his watch. It was 9:22 a.m. The two men were due to leave The Orion around 9:30.

Miss Catalonia had warned him to be extra careful to avoid detection when tailing the two. She'd mentioned something about the two men having past jobs in “intelligence”, but she was miserly with the details. Aidan scratched his nose. He hadn't bothered taking any precautions. It was like the two men were oblivious to the world around them. One of the days he'd even followed them on foot, even daring to tail them from only 15 feet away and the two hadn't even noticed. They were wrapped up enough in each other to noteven notice that breach of private space.

Aidan snorted as he saw the pair of “love birds” (as he was beginning to think of them) step out from The Orion. They were waiting for the valet to bring their car for them. Aidan sat up straight in his seat and placed both hands on the steering wheel. Their car had arrived. The blond had gotten into the driver side seat after tipping the valet. His brown haired partner entered the passenger side seat. There was only second before the blond drove away from the hotel.

Aidan smirked. Tailing them wouldn't be a problem. He was about to pull way when someone suddenly stepped in front of his front fender. He barely managed to brake in time. Thoroughly pissed, he stuck out his head to tell off the blind asshole who'd almost got himself knocked over.

But the stream of cursing didn't pass Aidan's lips. With his mouth open in astonishment, Aidan blinked back at the man he recognized as Heero Yuy. The man, who looked exactly like he did in the photograph Miss Catalonia had provided, then spoke and said quietly but firmly, “Leave them alone.”

With a nod, Aidan sat back against his car seat. But, he continued to watch an immobile Heero Yuy through the windshield of his car. The man seemed bent on blocking his path. Aidan idly drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

Five minutes later the car was still running and Heero hadn't moved an inch. But, he did fix Aidan with a curious expression as the man began to laugh within his car.

Aidan stuck his head outside the car again. He chuckled good-naturedly, “Since you've successfully stolen an entire day's work from me, the least you can do is buy me breakfast.” He wasn't put off by Heero's chilly, assessing gaze. He continued, “Come on, man. There's a cheap place down the block.”

Heero continued to stand in front the car as Aidan turned off the engine and exited the vehicle.
~*(End Flashback)*~

Aidan continued to grin. “Miss Catalonia, you've turned a rather unsightly shade of gray.”

“Wh-what do you mean *Heero* is sitting in front of you?” sputtered Dorothy. She needed a seat, right away. Her legs were two wavering appendages. She was swaying without being able to still her unsteady wobbling.

“Well, I suppose this will help clear things up,” murmured Aidan before turning the unit away from himself to face…

“Heero,” whispered Dorothy. She watched as Heero took a slip of some brightly colored and artificial looking beverage. His eyes briefly met Dorothy's.

~*(Begin Flashback)*~
“Are you going to eat that,” asked Aidan as he eyed one of Heero's delectable looking sausages.

Heero hadn't touched anything on his plate. But, he'd watched Aidan inhale, 5 pancakes, three helpings of eggs, 6 sausages, 2 side orders of hash, and two steaming mugs of coffee. When the man dared to use a fork to stab at one of the sausage links on his plate, Heero used his butter knife to reprimand Aidan with a sharp tap.

“Ok…Ok..” said Aidan after hissing with pain. “I don't understand why you even ordered anything if you're not going to eat.” Aidan turned in his seat. He signaled for one of the waitresses and ordered another side dish of sausages before turning back to Heero. He picked at the remains on his plate before looking up. “Miss Catalonia didn't say much about you, except for the fact that you were Mr. Maxwell's live-in lover.”

“ 'Miss' is too kind a title for Dorothy,” replied Heero.

Aidan laughed at the cutting retort. “So I assume you two don't get along. Does it have something to do with Mr. Maxwell and Mr. Winner's current relationship? Or, have things been rocky before this?”

Heero frowned at him but didn't say a word.

Aidan shook his head. “Being nosy is my job. The more I know the more useful I am. Ahhh…yum.” The waitress had arrived and placed a plate of sausage links in front of the private investigator. His attention was entirely taken by the food before him. Blindly, he reached for the ketchup.

In order to prevent Aidan from knocking over his violently orange drink, Heero handed him the ketchup.

“Thanks,” murmured a drooling Aidan.

“You don't appear ruthless. Why are you working for Dorothy?”

Aidan didn't look up. He was too busy hitting the butt of the ketchup bottle to get the ketchup to flow out. “Ahh, it's rather simple. Miss Catalonia, or Dorothy as you call her, is an enigma I'm interested in cracking. She's a very bizarre woman…” The ketchup spilled onto the white plate.

“How much does she pay you?”

Aidan briefly looked up. “What? Are you going to pay me *not* to follow Mr. Winner and Mr. Maxwell?”

“No, I can easily prevent you from doing your job at no expense to myself.”

The sausages were momentarily forgotten. “Are you threatening me?”

“No,” responded Heero.

“Ok. Good.” Aidan happily went back to his sausages.

Heero shook his head and looked away. Aidan's nonchalant nature was too similar to someone he was trying to forget…forgive…whatever.

“Well,” said Aidan while talking with his mouth full. “You stepped in front of my car for a reason. So, what is it?”

Heero finally turned back to look at him. “How important is this job to you?”

“Well, it's my current source of income so I'd say pretty damn important.”

“Do you enjoy your job?”

Aidan continued to chew. His jaw worked mechanically. “I'd never do something I didn't enjoy.”

“And you enjoy working for Dorothy?”

“Where are you going with this,” asked Aidan while using his fork to spear the last sausage on his plate.

Heero's gaze was direct. “It will only take a minute for me to explain.”
~*(End Flashback)*~

Heero exited the greasy diner with sure strides. There was a slight twist of his lips as he recalled Dorothy's white, startled expression. But Heero didn't gloat. Gloating would mean relishing Dorothy's stymied form. And, as far as he was concerned he didn't want to consider her for longer than he had to. Heero continued to walk without any direction in mind. He was momentarily stopped by a red light. He waited patiently for green and then proceeded with his destination-less march.

The previous night, after he'd left Duo and Quatre's suite he'd walked, almost for the entire night. It's been too long since he'd seen Duo. The heat of his former lover's skin, the depthless hue of his eyes, the parting of his supple expressive lips were like painful, heated memories as he walked the streets. But those seductive aspects of his former lover weren't the only things eating away from him. He heard Duo's painful retching after the man had fled to the bathroom. He saw Quatre surprised and worried expression after the blond had realized that Duo had said nothing of their plans to raise a child together, to spend a lifetime raising a child together. But, the very moment anger would rear its head, the sound of Duo's retching came back to Heero, raw and vulnerable, and distressed… Had he done that to Duo? Of course he had. The blonde never caused distress. He was a cure-all, a bright, angelic, caring, honorable solution to any ill. And now he was Duo's solution. Or, was he?

A light gust of warm air blew Heero's unruly hair into his eyes. He'd gone looking for Duo just to set things straight between them, but what had he done instead? He'd found himself hungry for Duo's skin, found himself unable to think, unable to explain himself. And, what of Quatre? Was he also rendered useless by the sight of Duo, the feel him, the thought of him? A night of walking had made Heero determined to find out.

He'd stood outside The Orion during the early dawn hours watching the sun rear its fiery head in the east. The orange hue bathed everything in a warm flush. The buildings, lamp posts, the cars… And it was that occurrence that made Heero notice one car in particular. The car itself wasn't distinctive. It was black, and a rather nondescript car of an indiscernible make. Because it was so intentionally unassuming, it immediately drew Heero's attention. It was the kind of car Preventers Agents used to tail people. As the sun rose higher in the sky, Heero had continued to scrutinize the car. The car's windows were tinted and he had a hunch that the license plates wouldn't check out if he decided to run a search on them.

And, then something interesting happened at 7:00 a.m., a little over an hour after sunrise. The driver side window was rolled down. A masculine hand appeared with a cigarette poised between two fingers. And then a stream of smoke was blown outside the car. It drifted up into the morning air. A minute later the car door was opened and the owner of the car stretched his legs, putting his feet to the pavement. He shook out his silvery white hair and took a drag on his cigarette. Once the cigarette was withered away to a stub, the man dropped the still lit butt to the ground and stamped it out with his foot before tucking his legs back into the car and closing the door.

There wasn't any movement from the car until nearly two an a half hours later when Duo and Quatre had appeared in front of The Orion. And, Heero had stepped in front of their shadow's car with an idea in mind.

~*(Begin Flashback)*~
After Aidan had ordered his greasy breakfast, Heero had set about to explain his order to the waitress. He ordered after a cursory glance at the stain dappled menu. When the waitress had arrived with four plates balanced on her arms (three plates for Aidan, one for Heero), the food was steaming in all its greasy goodness. Heero looked down at the plate before him. His gaze passed over a tall stack of pancakes, a heaping helping of eggs and 4 links of still sizzling sausages. It was such a stereotypically American breakfast. Something he'd never be caught eating. Something he'd turned his nose up at whenever Duo would order something this greasy and gluttonous.

The waitress returned this time with drinks. She placed a large mug of coffee in front of Aidan and a tall glass of some neon orange liquid by Heero's hand.

Heero eyed the violently orange liquid. He scrutinized it for a while before recognition set in. There came an almost imperceptible nod from him. He'd ordered Tang…Gods, what was wrong with him?

“Are you going to eat that?”

Heero looked up from the drink. The private investigator was talking…well not for long because the man suddenly made a move to steal one of the sausages from his plate. The motion was a reflex. Before he blinked, Heero had a butter knife in hand. He watched the private investigator pull his hand back in pain. Heero looked from the dull knife in his hand and then back at the man who called himself Aidan.

“I don't understand why you even ordered anything if you're not going to eat.”

Heero looked away. The man had a good point. The butter knife was placed down on the table above his plate of rapidly cooling, untouched food.

And then something peculiar happened. Heero found himself in a conversation with the private investigator. He watched as the private investigator took the bottle of ketchup from him. And, he continued to watching Aidan as he applied questions to the man who seemed to not have eaten for the better half of a day.

And then the conversation seemed to go exactly where Heero wanted it. He heard himself asking, “And you enjoy working for Dorothy?”

Aidan had responded with the perfect timing, “Where are you going with this?” Heero watched as the private investigator used his fork to spear the last sausage on his plate.

Heero's gaze was direct as he leaned almost imperceptibly forward. He could feel the vinyl seat shift with his miniscule movements. “It will only take a minute for me to explain.”

Aidan's plate was empty so he had no choice but to pay attention.

With strange surety Heero realized that this was probably the last he would see of the private investigator. He began with his tone carefully in check. “You mentioned that you had a peculiar interest in Catalonia, a curiosity. What keeps you from pursuing it?” Heero found himself being as crafty as the woman he despised.

“She's paying me to follow--”

Heero cut him off. “There isn't a reason for you to follow them.” There was brief pause. “It's unnecessary for two people to follow them.”

Aidan's eyes narrowed. “I don't get what you're saying. I'm the only one--” Suddenly realizing what Heero meant, Aidan shook his head and laughed. “I have nothing against stalkers, but I'm not losing my income because you're jealous. I'm barely getting by as it is. Forget it.”

“I never said anything about you losing your income. The matter is simple. I will keep an eye on Duo and Quatre while you pursue your interest in Catalonia.” Heero leaned forward over his cold plate of food. Both of his hands were on the table. “I'll do your job for you. Just follow Catalonia and keep her out of my way.”

“And the money?”

“Dorothy will continue paying you because she'll know nothing about this.”
~*(End Flashback)*~