Author: Keiran
Title: Colours of My Sky 1/2
Song Title and Artist: "Tokyo" Varius Manx
Rating: PG
Warnings: shounen-ai, slight Relena-bashing. Should be 'murdering Shakespeare' as well, but my Heero was Shakespeare in a past life.
Pairings/Characters: 1+2+1, R+1
Genre: Humour, romance-ish with a ending fluffy like a bunny's tail.
Summary: A Preventers' story. A bodyguard duty forces the infamous Preventer duet to cause some mayhem in the National Theatre. In order to make up for the trouble, the commander of the peace-keeping force leases the troublesome two to the theatre's caretaker and chief director.
AN: Written for the Vault's Songfic Challenge.

Thanks to Shenlong Deb, for betaing!


"… and that's largely it, for today," Commander Une said, returning a file to her desk. "Dismissed." The group of agents made for the door; two of the men, however, didn't quite make it. "Yuy, Maxwell, a word with you, if you please." Throwing a slightly panicked look at their friends, the two stayed inside, the door closing behind them.

"I wonder what they did this time," Wufei muttered. "I think there's a wide range of possibilities here," Zechs said, nodding a little. "Could be the trashing they gave the recent batch of newbies."

"They massacred the newbies again?" Quatre's eyes opened wide. "I thought we talked it out! They were not to approach the training gym if there's even one recruit in there!"

"They didn't – per se. They just had one of their training sessions right before Noin brought in the first group. As you can imagine, half of the kids resigned on sight. They were murmuring something about trying their luck in PD's homicide department and that it should be safer," the tall-and-blonde said shrugging.

"They hoisted the scores on flight simulators earlier this week," Trowa put in. "Or rather Maxwell did, with Yuy egging him on."

"And I was wondering why so many people were moaning about their results," Quatre moaned, covering his eyes. "No wonder, if Duo go his hands on the controls…"

"Could also be the amount of sick-leaves the special operatives group they're training demands. They are driving them into the ground, up to their ears," Trowa nodded wisely.

"Who needs crime, when we have Maxwell and Yuy in the Preventers?" Wufei asked rhetorically. However, almost immediately his brow furrowed. "I still wonder what has happened to Yuy though. He used to be such a no-nonsense, practical, down to earth guy. Ever since he started living with Maxwell, he's been getting into so much trouble!"

"Oh, stop it Wufei. You know they don't mean to," Quatre said, trying to placate his irate friend. "Maybe he was always like that, only he didn't show it?"


Meanwhile, the two agents in question stared evenly out of the window in Une's office, a foot or so over and to the left of their commander's head. Finally, the woman sighed heavily.

"Would you please explain to me why you found it necessary to damage the interior of the National Theatre so badly?"

"It wasn't our fault ma'am," Heero replied calmly, his eyes never leaving the opposite rooftop. Lady Une raised a brow.

"Do tell."

"We didn't open fire, ma'am, until they did," Duo replied calmly. "As for the chandelier in the foyer – I am sorry about that. I really needed to get to the other side fast. Besides, we stopped the bad guys, didn't we?"

"That you did…" Une hesitated for a moment, then a positively wicked smile graced her features. Neither agent noticed, as she was looking down at her desk while they contemplated the rooftops outside. "What I have here," she began raising a piece of paper, "is a letter from Sir William Henslow, the caretaker and chief director of the theatre." She noted with some pleasure the uncomfortableness that seemed to suddenly spread throughout the room.

"Does he demand that we be flayed and roasted over an open fire?" Duo asked, a little hesitantly.

"Not exactly. He asks whether I'd be kind enough to, and I quote, 'lease the two agents for an indefinite period of time'."

Silence filled the spacious room. Finally Duo coughed.

"Did he imply that any variety of skinning, flaying or being burnt alive would take place?"

"Did I imply you have a choice?" the lady-in-command shot back good-naturedly. Hearing no protests, she quickly fished two forms from the pile of files on her desk. "I took the liberty of filling these forms out for you. You have a vast amount of vacation piled up, and since I heard of no personal plans from you, you are now officially on vacation. Please sign here." Collecting the forms, the duo slowly turned to leave the office. "Sir Henslow is expecting you tomorrow at noon in the theatre," Une added seriously. "Do not be late."

Once the two were gone, she collapsed in a fit of giggles. She didn't know whether to sympathize with Henslow, Maxwell and Yuy, or to laugh helplessly. Neither had any idea whatsoever what they were in for. Still, she did phone the director with a direct warning. Whatever happens, it'll be his fault if he didn't heed it. Picking up the letter once again, she scanned through it once more.

Collapsing back into her chair, she kept on giggling until she ran out of breath.


A loud yell of 'WHAAAAT?' delivered in perfect unison shook the old building. The cast of 'Romeo and Juliet' scattered across the scene. Only the director stood unperturbed.

"You, gentlemen, are going to be the pillar of our show," he repeated calmly. "I'm sure I already mentioned that the profits will go to charity?" he added quickly, seeing the longhaired one open his mouth again. 'Ah, thank you, Lady Une. I think I shall manage them quite well.'

"We open in one month exactly. Now, since your thrilling performance the last time – no, Mr Maxwell, I have not forgotten about the chandelier – I have decided you two shall make a most welcome addition to the play."

"Well, that shouldn't be too bad," Duo said slowly. "Do we play the fighting servants in the beginning?"

"No…" the director shook his head. "Although fighting is involved."

"I should think so," Heero snorted. Duo hushed him quickly.

"Where is the catch then?" he asked.

"That depends what do you define as 'catch', Mr Maxwell," the older man cut in smoothly. "Reviewing your… performance, shall we say, I decided I have the perfect part for you."

"That is?…" the violet eyes bore into the director imploringly, while the blue ones egged them on.

"You shall be playing Mercutio." Duo stood gaping for a few seconds. Then he smacked the back of his hand to his forehead and executed a perfect faint, landing squarely in Heero's arms.

"Are you fucking serious!"

"Yes, I am. I am very serious."

It turned out that he really was – the rehearsals started straight away. "See, it's like this," the director explained to 'Juliet', who questioned the wisdom of hiring two Gundam pilots/Preventers to play the main parts, no less. "I have been thinking about the show for a while now, but I had no Mercutio and no Romeo. I don't even know which is worse. You know we need something to make the show memorable. There's been everything and then some said in and about this play." He hesitated for a brief second. "That, and the fact that I believe these two will draw in the audience like mad! If only to shoot at them. But, since the building is listed as a monument, we have an almost unlimited policy."

"But can they actually act?" Asked the 20 year-old Academy Award Winner of 203 A.C.

Duo chose this exact moment to waltz across the stage, quite literally, with a slight bounce in his step. "True, I talk of dreams which are children of an idle brain, begot of nothing but vain fantasy," he delivered, waving his arm at 'Romeo', who was lounging on the desks with a morose expression on his face. The monologue went on, like the rest of the play enriched by a few contemporary ideas and brought to life by Maxwell's superbly exuberant acting.

"Never mind that," Juliet, whose name was actually Judy, said in something akin to awe. "They are good. That was a stroke of genius, William."

"You haven't heard his 'Anger not the God of Death' monologue," the man replied kindly. "Kid has a screw or two loose in his skull, so naturally, I immediately thought of giving him the part." The man nodded wisely, sounding for all intents and purposes like he was fifty and not thirty six. But yes, it was a stroke of genius," he added proudly.

Famous last words.


The days passed slowly. Heero, to the utmost surprise of everyone he knew, with the possible exception for Duo, turned out to be an – interesting Romeo. Never mind the coronary he almost gave the poor director, when he decided that the character demanded spicing up and insisted that his version of Romeo be introduced in bed with a random partner and that he would make out with at least two people during the grand ball. It took a long time for poor Mr Henslow to get over the butchering of Shakespeare, but eventually he had given in.

"And here I was hoping that this time I will actually surprise the critics with a neoclassical interpretation," William Henslow, known best for his chain-smoking Hamlet and rock-and-rolling Oedipus, said to himself mournfully.

"Heero – if you wanted someone to make out with that badly, I'm sure Relena would have been on top of you sooner than you'd mentioned it," Duo whispered softly, looking at the slumped shoulders of the departing director. 'Romeo' snorted.

"I just thought this Romeo person needed a little spite. He is seducing a fourteen year old girl! There are laws against that, you know? Plus, seriously, the only time in the play he actually shows some character, besides the paedophile bit, is when Tybalt kills Mercutio. As for William – he'll get over it."

"You have this thought out in detail, haven't you?" Duo asked, disbelief dripping from his words. "Well, whatever really. We are sure to make a splash anyway. And should anything go wrong, we'll make gobs of money, cause everyone will want to see Big Bad Preventers on the stage. And I don't blame them really. It gives them a perfect target."

"You think I should have mined the theatre?"

"And leave a message 'Bomb in the building. You shoot at me, I blow right back' on the poster?" Duo asked, one of his brows in a perfect arch over a violet eye.

"Hadn't thought about a poster yet, but it is an idea," Preventer agent Wing said.

"Point duly noted," agent Scythe drawled. "Shall I go and start up the printers?"

"Wait for the premiere."


Nobody knew exactly how Relena came across the information that Heero was one of the two Gundam pilots who were advertised all over the Earth Sphere and the colonies as the 'main event of the Sanq's culture days, starring in a fundraising production of Romeo and Juliet , which is sure to thrill audiences worldwide'. Nobody knew where in her busy schedule did she find the time to pop in, unannounced, to the modest apartment the two agents shared.

"Heero!" she exclaimed, walking straight in through the door, past a little dazed Duo, who shook his head whilst closing the door. Poor girl was in for a shock, he thought, grinning. Heero took the Romeo-the-slut thing rather seriously.

"Relena," the man replied with a roll of his eyes. "What do you want?"

"I wanted to tell you that I'm very proud of you," she said solemnly. "Getting over your dislike of public appearances to play such a romantic character… I knew you would do it, one day. I was hoping I could be there to watch you come out of your shell and…"

Fifteen minutes later Duo, delicately but firmly holding the Vice-Minister's elbow, led her out of the apartment, explaining that Heero falling asleep was not a sign of rudeness acquired from himself, but merely the strain of a long day finally catching up to him. No harm intended.

"Have a good night Relena," he said in parting. "We shall see you tomorrow, at the reception after the premiere," he added knowing perfectly well that as a Sanquian princess she would have gotten one of the first invitations.

"I hope you're happy now," he said walking back into the living room. "She is convinced I am a rude lowlife that evolved in the dumpster and crawled into the human race through the backdoor."

"And she's a rude highlife, which evolved in silks and feathers and crawled into the human race through the roof. What's your point?" Heero shot back, all traces of sleepiness forgotten.

"I am starting to see her point, you know. I'm having a bad influence on you." Unexpectedly, Heero grinned.

"Not really, no. One can hardly blame the lens for the light's refraction, after all."