Title: Precision Nirvana

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot. The characters are not of my creation, but the insults are. :)

Raiting: R

Warnings: The usual stuff. I have some mild angst in here. I also have a stuffy Quatre, so be warned.


With a soft sigh, Quatre rolled over and burried his face in the soft, clean sheets that covered his bed. The false light mirroring a full moon shone in through his window, making it almost too bright to sleep. He curled up on his side and stared out at the shimering lights from the colony that even at midnight was still bustling with activity.

His arms wrapped around his chest, trying to hold in the warmth that was seeping out of his body slowly. He'd been here for almost a week, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't block out the memories of his time here with Trowa. Even now, wide awake, he swore he could still catch a faint wiff of the man's scent clinging to the sheets that he'd been sleeping on. It was unnerving.

And painful.

Swallowing hard, he closed his eyes for a second to keep the tears that were threatening from falling. When he opened them, he unerringly focused in on the mask that he'd set down on his nightstand the day before he'd beaten an assassin with a slipper. It's half finished facade stared blankly up at the ceiling, uncaring and cold.

"Trowa, why can't I stop loving you?" he whispered, feeling an ache in his chest so fierce that it stole his breath. "It's not like you ever really loved me in the first place. You were using me for my money and position. I was nothing to you, but you were everything to me, you bastard. How I wish I could make myself hate you for what you did."

A sob broke through his control and released the tears that had been choking him. Angrily, he slammed his fists into the pillow over and over until his shoulders and arms ached. When he was exhausted from crying and fighting with his bedding, he sank down face first and burrowed his face deep into the clean sheets.

'I can't hide from myself any longer,' he thought, brushing his tears away on the pillows underneath him. 'I have to own my mistake and my future or I'll never be able to keep those I love safe.' He turned his head to the side and stared at the door where the guard was waiting.

"Tomorrow," he whispered softly, closing his eyes and surrendering to the exhaustion that he felt. Tomorrow was going to be quite the day, and he'd need all of the sleep that he could get.


Duo licked his parched lips and punched in the code that would keep the shuttle stationary. They were almost within range of L4, but he wasn't sure how he was going to explain to the shuttle that he was in to the docking master. It was a quandry.

And it was a quandry that he had to solve soon. He had to use the restroom in the worst way and there wasn't a potty on the entrie darned shuttle.

Taking a deep breath, he turned the chair around and crossed his legs. He'd felt the man's angry stare for a while now, so he was pretty sure that Heero was awake and glaring.

"Don't give me that look," he said, raising his head and shaking back his still loose hair. That had been his last hair tie. "You shouldn't have handcuffed me. Besides, I'm allergic to most sedatives. I could have died because of that crap so you deserved that little love tap."

Heero just stared at him, his face blank and emotionless. The only spots of life in his face were the cerulean blue of his eyes that were burning angry holes in him. If looks could have killed, Heero would never get out of those cuffs because Duo would be nothing more than a grease stain on the chair.

Pursing his lips, Duo tried to keep from speaking. After what seemed like an eternity to the talkative man, he sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. "So are we going to keep staring at eachother, or are you going to tell me why you came and did a smash and grab on one of the biggest military bases this side of L3?" he asked, stretching his legs out in front of him and crossing his feet at the ankles.

Raising a single eyebrow, the Asian man wiggled his hands slightly.

"I don't think so. If you think I'm going to be crazy enough to let you out of those so that you can try and haul me in on my ass, you're seriously messed in the head," he replied, shaking his long, loose hair over his shoulders. The satiny strands gently shimmered in the ambient light from the instrument panel.

Duo watched the man's eyes flick to his loose hair and supressed the butterflies that started to flutter in his stomach. No one had seen him with his hair down in nearly four years except this guy. Not even the guys he'd slept with had gotten a glimpse of his beautiful hair.

"Now, let's pretend for just a minute that we're both adults and that we can talk out our differences, Mr. Social," he taunted, drumming his fingers on his arms. "So start discussing. Why did you capture me?"

"I was asked by Quatre to rescue you from Zechs," Heero replied, his suprisingly deep voice rumbling across the small space.

Holding his hand above his chest, Duo pretended suprise. "He speaks! Egads!" he mocked. When Heero gave him a pointed look, the chestnut haired boy rolled his eyes and shook his head. "No sense of humor. Geeze. Next question: why were you sent after Quatre in the first place?"

"I'm not at liberty to discuss that with you," he replied smoothly, pulling himself up by the handcuffs until he was sitting with his arms stretched slightly over his head.

Duo licked his lips as the entire line of Heero's body was showcased by the new position. He let his gaze roam up and down the boy's body, enjoying the view that the tight spandex and loose green tank top were providing for his slightly hungry gaze. His eyes caught slightly, though on the fresh bruising that was shadowing the skin underneath the man's eyes. Remembering that he'd broken the man's nose, he let a small grimace contort his face. Shaking his head slightly, the brunette pushed his hair over his shoulder and tried to clear his head of the lustful images that were crowding in.

'Damn Zechs for getting me all riled up. Stupid man. Couldn't just leave me alone, could he? Oh no, had to come and poke around at my hormones then disappear! How like a man to-,' realizing that he was berating his own gender, Duo cleared his throat and shifted in the chair.

Putting on his professional face, he rested his hands on the arms of the pilots chair that he was currently occupying. "So, you can't tell me what your objective was, but you can tell me that Quatre sent you for me. Does your boss know that you've gone to get me?" he asked, tilting his head and staring at his captive.

"No," Heero replied, his blue eyes focused in on Duo's.

"Hmm. Can you tell me why Quatre sent you to get me?" he asked, trying to find a way to gather some intel from the man. He didn't have long. The L4 radar had probably already picked them up, and if he didn't move or send a signal soon they'd send a ship to investigate.

"Most likely, he felt guilty that you'd been captured by Zechs," he replied evenly, his monotone grating on Duo's nerves.

'If he screws like he holds a conversation, he's probably the most boring lay this side of the milky way,' Duo thought sourly, entertaining an image of Heero holding a stopwatch and a tube of lube telling a shadowy figure that they'd only be allotted twenty minutes for lovemaking with five for foreplay.

Sighing, Duo rolled his eyes. "Quat always has had a guilt complex. What's the plan when you get me there? Am I going to be a prisoner or hostage?" he asked, mostly out of morbid curiosity.

For a few seconds, the Asian man was silent. "I'm not completely certain," he replied, the honesty in his voice making it impossible for Duo to think that this was a ruse.

Pursing his lips, Duo turned back to the instrument panel and tapped open the comm channel. Once he'd worked his way through enough back doors to confuse anyone, he braced himself and called Wufei.

"Chang shipping, this is Sally. How may I direct your call?" came the professional reply over the system while an image of a dragon popped up on the monitor.

"Sally, baby! Man, you need a shave! But it's good to see that you're releasing your inner demons more often. That time of the month again?" Duo teased, his violet eyes dancing with mirth.

With a flicker, Sally's face popped up on the screen. "Duo! Thank god it's you! We've been looking everywhere for you! Wufei about popped a vein when you took off with his ship!" the woman said, her voice warm and very welcome to Duo's ears.

Rolling his eyes, Duo shook his bangs out of his eyes. "Pish tosh. Tell Wu-baby that he can take a chill pill. I've got his ship headed back to him. It should be there in about a week. It's coming snail mail," he replied, hoping that Howard hadn't sold it for scrap.

"Tell him yourself. He's out making a run. He's really pissed that you took off with the only other pilot that he had on payroll," she warned, her grin belaying the seriousness of his words.

Giving the woman a theatrical sigh, Duo pressed a hand to his forehead. "How will I ever survive his scathing wit!" he lamented.

When Sally burst out into loud laughter, Duo ruined his pose by cracking a smile. He dropped his hand an winked at the woman.

"I'll patch you through. When you get back, I want details. Lots of details," she said, wagging her finger at Duo before the screen went black.

A few seconds later, the screen flickered to life. Wufei was no where in sight. There was just an empty pilots chair. After a few seconds, Duo caught sight of one of the Chinese man's slippers floating past the screen. He smirked as he realized that the gravity generator on the ancient hulk that he'd been forced to pilot for years had given out again.

There was the sound of muffled swearing before a hand came up and snagged the slipper from under the console. There was a grunt and then the top half of the Asian man's body appeared, clad in nothing more than a purple tank top. He gripped the chair and pulled himself into it, flipping around and settling in. Absently, he fastened the harness that was going to keep him from floating around the cabin anymore. There was a frown on his face and his eyebrows were drawn together hard enough to create a small line between them.

"Geeze, Wu-baby, don't pop a vein or anything. Just kick the third panel on your left," Duo replied, grinning at the startled expression on the man's face.

Snapping his head, the Asian man's mouth fell open before it snapped shut with an audiable sound. "Maxwell!" he shouted, starting to yell at the pilot in Mandiran. His arms waved around, the only thing keeping him from floating away was the harness that was half fastened. "And if there's one scratch on my ship, you sorry excuse for a carbon dioxide converter, you can kiss your ass good bye!"

Blinking in mild admiration, Duo tried to keep his cupid's bow mouth from stretching into a wide grin. "Damn Wufei, I didn't think that even you could use such foul language! I'll have to remember that one about the goat, though. That was inventive!" he replied, watching the Asian man's face turn a rather unattractive shade of purple.

"Maxwell!" Wufei roared, his hands coming up almost like he was going to reach through the monitor and choke Duo.

Fighting back a laugh, Duo licked his lips. "Oh don't get your frillies into a bunch. Your ship is fine and is on it's way back to L2 right now. I would've had it back sooner, but I was taken into custody by OZ," he replied.

"What did you do now?" Wufei asked, his face returning to some semblance of it's normal color with the knowledge that his ship was going to be waiting for him when he got back.

Scowling, Duo pointed a finger at the monitor. "If you hadn't hired that spy last year, then none of this would have happened! I blame you!" he hissed, knowing deep down that it was true. If Zechs hadn't worked with him, then he'd never have been captured in the first place with the man.

Opening and closing his lips for a few second, Wufei's color slowly started to creep back to purple. "My fault? If you had just waited for me to bail you out, then you wouldn't have had to run from them! But could you wait? NO!" he lectured, sounding a lot like Duo's father would have if he'd ever had a father.

"Don't you start with me, Chang Wufei! I have a lot on my plate right now and I don't need to hear a lecture from someone who's about four seconds older than me! You weren't there, so go blow a duck! I'm ass deep in aligators here! Quatre's been kidnapped and taken to L4 and with OZ still on my tail, it's not like I can just waltz in there and request that they politely return my co-pilot!" he yelled, half rising out of his seat and getting closer to the monitor.

"Who would want Quatre on L4?" Wufei asked, huffing slightly but making an obvious effort to concentrate on the matter of his other employee.

Making a supreme effort of will to not roll his eyes, Duo crossed his arms over his chest and flopped back into his chair. "The Winners," he replied, waving a hand in the vauge direction of the colony.

Raising an eyebrow, Wufei's posture mirrored Duo's. "But he was disenherited years ago when he ran off with the Russians," the Chinese man replied, his eyebrows drawing together in thought again.

Dropping his jaw to his chest, Duo stared open mouthed at his boss for a few seconds. "You knew who he was and didn't tell me?" he demanded, shocked.

With a distinctively smug look on his face, Wufei leaned back in his seat. "And tell the biggest mouth on L2 that the heir to the Winner fortune was living in the dorms?" he replied as if it were the obvious answer.

"You dirty rat bastard," Duo stewed, glaring at the screen. "How did you find out?"

Waving a hand, the man dismissed the whole subject as inconsequencial. "I have my ways," he replied lazily. "I know lots of things that I don't tell you, Duo."

Curiosity burned in Duo, eclipsing the anger that had been growing in him. "Like what?" he asked, trying and failing to make his tone casual.

Rolling his eyes, Wufei crossed his arms over his chest. "Duo, with my sources, I could tell you Mother Theresa's bra size. That's not important right now, though. Let me check it out and see what dirt I can dig up. Can I reach you on this frequency?" he asked.

"Better not. I'll call you in an hour," he replied, unwilling admiration blooming in his chest. That was one thing that he could never fault Wufei on. He had an undying loyalty towards his people. No matter what, when it got deep, Wufei would always take care of his own.

"An hour," Wufei replied, cutting the connection.


Quatre sighed as he threw another jacket down on the bed. He'd gone through nearly every piece of clothing in his closet, looking for something that would be appropriate for his plans. Pursing his delicate pink lips, he grabbed the navy blue shirt and black pants that were the only things that were close to fitting in his closet and tugged them on over his black boxers.

In the years that he'd been gone, the muscles that he'd had no use for while he was living a life of priveledge. His shoulders had filled out and his chest had expanded to the point that he couldn't button any of the suit coats that had been tailored to his measurements before he'd left.

The only thing that still fit really well were his shoes.

Shifting in the slightly tight pants, Quatre buckled a matching black belt and grabbed a pair of dark sun glasses off of the shelf of them near his closet door. Slipping the designer shades onto his pert nose, he headed for the door that lead to the hallway.

Tugging open the door, he took a small sense of satisfaction at the double take the guard gave him. He shook back his slightly longer than normal hair and turned towards the main stairs without pausing to acknowledge the still stunned guard.

"Sir, I'm afraid that I can't let you leave!" the man called, jogging down the hall and grabbing Quatre's arm in a firm grip.

Looking down, Quatre let the black shades slide down his nose enough to reveal his beautiful blue eyes. He stared at the man's hand until the guard pulled it back. He left his shades lowered so that he could stare into the man's face with an ice cold glare.

"If you ever put your hand on me again I'll see to it that you end up floating away from this colony in an escape pod no bigger than a foot locker. Is that clear?" he asked, his normally pleasant voice flat and hard with an arrogance and assurity that he didn't feel.

The man took a step back, his face going bone white. "Y-y-yes sir," he stuttered, putting his hands behind his back.

Pushing the sunglasses back up his nose, Quatre tossed his hair out of his eyes and walked down the stairs. His loafers were soundless as he headed through the main level of the house until he reached his sister's office.

"Mr. Winner," her secretary greeted, the young woman standing and moving to intercept him. "If you'll just wait here, I'll let your sister know that you're here."

Moving nimbly around her, he kept walking at a brisk pace to the doors. "That's alright. I'll let her know myself," he replied, pushing open the heavy door to what had once been his father's study.

"But sir, she's in a conference call right now with-," her words were cut off when Quatre shut the door in her face. He turned towards the once familiar room and stopped for a second, taken aback by the changes that his eldest sister had made.

Where the room had once been a man's domain, it was now clearly a woman's office. His father's bookshelves and the prized collection of rare antique books from Earth were now preserved behind glass. The chess set that he'd spent hours as a child admiring was gone, as was the seating area that had turned the large room from a cold office into somewhere that his father could relax.

He looked over at his sister, sitting behind a desk that was obviously decorative. It was a glass and silver contraption with nothing more complicated than a laptop sitting directly in the middle of it. There were two matching chairs sitting in front of it and an only slightly more comfortable chair behind it.

"And if the market doesn't go up, we'll be forced to sell those shares," his sister said, her cold eyes staring at the monitors in front of her. "I don't care what it takes to make it more profitable, just do it." She glanced up and froze, her mouth opening for a second in shock before she regained control of her features. "Gentlemen, I believe it's time for a break. We'll resume in one hour."

Despite the obvious protests coming from the speakers, she cut the connection and stood. Walking around the desk, she tugged the jacket on her pale pink skirt suit straight. "Brother, how good to see you up and about today," she said, a smile curving her lips that didn't reach her eyes.

Raising his chin a notch, Quatre pulled the sunglasses off of his face and held them loosely in one hand. "I'm going to go pick up a few things from town," he replied, not adding the silent 'bitch' that wanted to roll out of his mouth. It wouldn't suprise him to learn that his sister had sent the Russian into his room last night to kill him.

"Of course! Let me have a car brought around for you," she said, heading back towards her desk. "I'd go with you, but things have been so busy today that I just can't pull myself away. Enjoy your shoping, though."

Nodding, Quatre pushed the sunglasses back up on his nose and let his eyes roam around the room as he left, noting the lay out of the security system in place. 'Duo would laugh himself silly if he knew that I was actually thinking of breaking into a room in my own house,' he thought as he strode through the doors and headed towards the front doors.

With a whisper of melancholy. Quatre climbed into the back of the black sedan that drove through the once familiar gates of his home. 'Hurry, Duo. You're the only one that I can count on to watch my back,' he thought as he watched the town flash past the heavily tinted windows that he knew were at least a quarter inch of bullet proof glass.


Zechs tossed his uniform jacket down onto the narrow cot of the transport ship that he'd been on. They'd found the shuttle that had been used to attack his ship floating dead in space, no trace of Duo or his "rescuer". He sat down next to the bright red fabric and tugged off his boots.

Irritation at his lack of progress was niggling at the back of his mind like an itch that he couldn't scratch. He gently tugged his mask off and set it down on his coat before he pushed his hair out of his eyes. This was rediculous! There was no reason why he should be so obsessed with one boy.

The memory of Duo's lush form wouldn't leave his mind, though, tormenting him day and night. His palms itched under the protective covering that his gloves offered him with the remebered feeling of Duo's hair.

Groaning softly, the blonde burried his face in his hands and sighed. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to banish the husky sound of Duo's voice from his mind. When his communicator beeped softly, he pushed himself up and walked over to the wall. With more force than strictly necessary, he slapped the button that would activate it for audio only.

"Zechs here," he answered, trying to keep his voice level to hide what he was sure was a mild hint of insanity.

"Sir, we have a message for you on a priority channel from a Chang Wufei. I wouldn't normally bother you with it, but he says that he has information about the prisoner that we're tracking," the man on the other end answered crisply.

Raising an eyebrow, Zechs leaned against the wall. "Put it through," he replied, shaking his platinum hair over his shoulder.


Tada! Chapter 11 for your delectation! I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you think. Reviews are love!