Alone: Three Is The Luckiest Mixture

Wufei had been missing for months. Duo cursed himself every day for not noticing the sadness in his lover's eyes the last day he saw him. Sometimes, others in his business would tell him about sightings of a young, Chinese teen, but rarely was it anything more than a vague memory. He checked it out every time and never found a trace of Wufei.

Quatre had been quite upset by the Chinese pilot's abrupt disappearance and kept the others on a close line. He seemed very afraid of losing his other friends. Duo didn't mind. He often needed the shoulder to cry on. Of course, he told the little blonde everything about he and Wufei, them and Heero. Quatre took it all in and didn't judge. He held him and stroked his hair as he murmured gentle reassurances. Don't worry, Wufei will come back. He's all right. Heero will come back. He'll see it soon. Don't worry, my friend. Don't worry. Duo knew Quatre couldn't predict the future, nor could he influence the two Asian pilots, but it make Duo hurt a little less to hear it all. The braided boy spent much of his time with Quatre and Trowa in a Winner home on L2. WEI was starting a renovation project there, so Quatre stayed to oversee it. It also kept him close to Duo, who'd joined with an old friend in the salvage business. Trowa was apparently attached to Quatre's hip, as he rarely left the blonde's side. It made Duo's heart ache to see them together, but he was happy for their friendship. Besides, they knew enough not to flirt much in front of him. No, when Duo visited, they were far too concerned about showering him with affection.

Heero disappeared soon after Wufei did. They heard nothing of him. Not even rumors. But, Duo reflected, Heero was one that knew how to disappear. They wouldn't find him until he wanted to be found. Duo survived the next months between his work and Quatre and Trowa's companionship. His days were busy enough to keep him from thinking and left him too exhausted to dream at night. He was slowly, so slowly, learning to live with the empty pang in his chest that sometimes hurt so badly that it left him breathless.

And then Heero came back.

It was a hot August day and Duo was just arriving back from a salvage run. He directed his small crew to unload and transport everything to the nearby yard so that Hilde could catalogue it. Duo smiled a little as he remembered the vivid argument he'd had with the girl prior to leaving. She wasn't at all happy that her healing arm wasn't up to the job. She'd broken it playing football with the rest of the guys, but it was near ready to leave the cast.

"Well, someone took their time!" Hilde said in greeting when they finally arrived. Duo flashed her a winning grin.

"You know you love us anyway."

"I'm not sure."

"Shall I prove it?"

"Ew, boy germs!"

They both had a good laugh before getting to work. Duo found it easy to forget things when he worked and there was a lot to forget. As hard as he worked, he was done much faster than he wanted to be. Hilde had to practically shove him out the door, lest he recheck the records. Again. She'd threatened to fire him for it only a week before.

Duo heard voices in the front office. One was Hilde's and she was not at all happy. Thinking needed to save the poor fool that had riled her up, Duo headed in. The first thing he saw, an image that would stick with him for years to come, was Hilde rearing back and slapping Heero Yuy across the face. The sound was deafening. Hilde hadn't expected the strike to hit and her face was suitably surprised. Heero's was blank.

"I ask again," he said very quietly as he turned to look at her again. "Where is Maxwell?"

"If you can't call him by his first name, you have no business seeing him!"

"I need to see him."

"Well too damn bad!"

"Hilde!" Duo said quickly, announcing himself. Two sets of dark eyes were on him immediately.

"Duo! I didn't hear you come in!" The dark haired girl blushed a little and looked off. "I didn't think you'd want to see him, 'cause of…you know…and…"

"It's fine. Mind giving us some space for a bit?"

"No problem." She kissed his cheek and went back into the store room, leaving the two boys alone. Their eyes locked in battle, bodies tense.

"She seems…nice," mumbled Heero. Duo forced a smirk.

"Yeah, she's great. Got me over a lot of shit."

They fell quiet again. This was too hard, too difficult. Too painful. They snuck glances at one another, looking over changes in the last few months. There weren't many. A little taller in height, a little stronger in build. It hadn't really been so long as it felt.

"I'm sorry."

It hung there for a while, dark and heavy and sickening. And then Duo snapped.

"Sorry? You're fucking sorry? Sorry doesn't make it hurt less, Yuy! Sorry doesn't bring Wufei back! Sorry doesn't-"

Heero barreled into him, arms wrapping tight about his waist and head buried at his collar as they stumbled back into the wall. Duo didn't realize he had started crying as he shrieked at the other man, beating him with wild arms and legs, eyes wide and feral. Heero took it all and never let go. He hardly moved except when a strike hit. When Duo had gotten everything out that he could, his knees went out from under him. Heero slowly lowered him to the ground without loosening his hold. Duo leaned into him, sobbing as he clutched onto the blue eyed boy's shirt so tightly that the fabric nearly tore. All the while, Heero held him tight.

It seemed like eternity before the tears stopped and then took even longer before Duo dared loosen his grip. Duo's hitched breathing was the only sound. He was vaguely surprised Hilde hadn't rushed back in at his yelling. He knew how protective of him she was.

Why was Heero there, anyway? Holding him like that? Taking the punishment without a word? Where had he been? Why had he taken so long to come back?

"Why?" Duo croaked.

"I realized I was very stupid," replied Heero quietly. He pulled away a little and looked into Duo's face. "I was shameful. I came back to let you kill me if you wanted."

Duo laughed. No happily, but frantically, and Heero dragged him back against his chest until Duo could control himself and keep from crying again.

"Kill you?"

"I hurt you. I hurt Wufei as well. It is my doing that he is not with you."

Duo clung to him tightly, as if he wanted to melt into the other boy's body.

"I tried to hate you," Duo whispered. "I tried and I tried but I was never able to. I still love you. It's fucking hell, but I still do. And if you leave, you better find Wufei and drag him back to me or I'll kill you. I'll fucking kill you, Heero."

"I won't leave until you send me away," Heero murmured softly against his hair. He rocked the other pilot gently, stroking his back. "I don't want to hurt you anymore, Duo. I was afraid before. I thought I would die by the end of the war."

"That's why…?"

"I didn't want anyone to mourn me."

"Heero Yuy, you are the stupidest man I've ever met." And then Duo knocked him to the ground and kissed him. "But I still love you."

It was not all easy. Heero worked hard to get back into Duo's graces. He had an even harder time appeasing Quatre and Trowa. It was mid October before Quatre would even speak to him.

December came and the world was thrown into chaos again. Mariemaia Kushrenada and her army stormed through peace and would have plagued them into war if the Gundam pilots hadn't stood before her. And that's where they found Wufei. He had been picked up, broken and lost, and given a purpose, something he didn't dare refuse. It was enough to hide the pain he felt.

Mariemaia lost and Wufei found he had made a grave mistake. He disappeared again, but kept tabs with Une. As the Preventers caught a firm hold, he was asked to take on missions that were specialized to his abilities and agreed. They were few and far between. What he did between them, only Une could guess. She was the only one who knew even what country he stayed in, and he did stay on Earth. Three months passed after the Mariemaia incident before any of the Gundam Pilots caught word of their Chinese friend, other than Une's assurance that he was alive.

Trowa made his way towards Une's office, scowling at the looks he drew from other agents. Most of them recognized him enough to leave him be, though the cool and unapproachable air to him tended to do that as well. Then again, answering to Une almost directly didn't help his case. He was a specialty agent, called in only when needed and left to do what he wished the rest of the time.

With a sigh, Trowa pulled the door to Une's office open and stepped through. She was on the phone at the moment but gave him a nod before turning back to her conversation. It took him half a second more to feel the change in the air besides Une. Turning and expecting a rookie or ex-Oz, he was surprised to find a more familiar person standing in the corner of the room.

Wufei had not grown, but he had changed much since they last saw each other. For one, Wufei was not in white, at all, nor did he wear the Preventers uniform. The Chinese boy wore a red tunic, black frogs down the front to match the black trim at the collar and sleeves. His slacks were black as well and his dark hair was left free. He looked far too informal to be the Chang Wufei he remembered and even the air about him was completely off. Slowly, the ebony eyed boy glanced at him. The gaze was deadened and that was what worried Trowa the most.

"Chang," Trowa greeted with a slight nod. Wufei returned the gesture but didn't speak up. Une hung up before long and turned to the two teens.

"I'm glad you could make it, Barton," she said primly, setting her clasped hands on the desk before her. "I was waiting for you to arrive so that I could give you the mission together."

She pushed a file forward and Wufei picked it up. He flipped through it before handing it over to Trowa, who did the same. When finished, Une summarized it and sent them off. Wufei followed Trowa to his office and closed the door behind him. Not a moment later, Trowa whipped around to face him.

"Where have you been?" he said almost in a growl. Wufei stared at him neutrally, the deadened look not leaving him in the least.

"Studying."

"Where?"

"A school."

Trowa frowned and clinched his fist as he leaned back on his desk.

"It would be pointless to ask for more details." It wasn't a question. They both knew the answer. The Chinese pilot's stare never wavered, but Trowa had seen enough. Chang Wufei wasn't there anymore.

The mission was successful. Minor injuries and few casualties. At the end of it, Wufei disappeared as if he were a ghost, leaving Trowa with the brief to Une and the paperwork. She refused to say anything about the other pilot's whereabouts. It seemed the Chinese youth was gone until next time.

Similar meetings happened over the next months. Wufei was never partnered with anyone but Trowa, so he was the only one who knew of his downward spiral. He noted how each time, the other pilot got just a little closer to dying. A little closer to that last mistake. The others hounded him each time for information. They had the same arrangement as agents as he did, but Une never assigned Wufei with them, by the Chinese pilot's request. Only Quatre got the full story. Trowa couldn't bear to looks of pain he knew would take Heero and Duo.

So, it was that Trowa suffered the wayward pilot alone. A year passed this way before a partnered mission finally made Trowa stop and know it was time. Wufei had been wounded badly and would have been killed, had Trowa not pulled him a few inches out of the way. The Chinese boy hadn't even tried to dodge. Trowa was finished with dealing with the passively suicidal pilot.

He didn't have to ask Une twice; she gave up the address immediately but Trowa didn't intend to go there.

"Have a good weekend!"

Mrs. Sandalwood was far too peppy for her own good. At least, this was the opinion of one surly student of hers. She was well liked by most of the student body, half for her cheerfulness and the other half for her exotic beauty; the woman was only a few years older than her students, if that. She was also not Asian and still messed up in the language despite her many years living and teaching there. The bright blonde, not bleached, hair was enough to attract most of his class away from their studies.

He, of course, ignored her. As soon as the bell rang, he was gone. With his punishing schedule, he didn't have time to dawdle instead of getting home to study. He didn't respond to the stares he got as he made his way to his car. By the end of the first day, the students had learned to leave Chang Wufei alone. There were a few who had dared converse with him in the beginning, but soon found the icy wall impenetrable.

As he took out his key and unlocked the door to his small apartment, Wufei didn't bother to look around behind him or even listen out for anyone who might be following him. He hadn't in months. It didn't matter to him anymore. He did note, however, that the door was already unlocked. He must have forgotten. Stepping in, Wufei dropped his school bag beside the door and shut it behind him. One of the pictures in the entry was crooked but he dismissed it. He must have bumped it on the way out. He went into the kitchen and put on a pot for tea as he idly wondered what he would eat today. There was ham in the fridge when he looked and he dragged it out to make a sandwich. Hadn't he finished it off yesterday…? No, maybe that was last week before he got a new pack. Sandwich steadily disappearing into his mouth, Wufei checked the clock. An hour before the performance. He finished off his after school meal and went on into the bedroom to change. He paused though, glancing down at the coffee table. Strange. A magazine he forgot to put up. He shrugged and put it back in its place.

Sorting through his closet, Wufei trailed his hands over the silk garments, vivid reds, blacks, and blues filling his vision. He thought about the production he was going to see and finally dragged out a blue and violet one, pausing when he noted a sliver of white at the end of the row. Reaching for it, he removed the long garment and held it to the light. There were memories to that design and color, ones he could barely connect to the person he knew he was now. He felt nothing as he gazed at the cloth. Returning it, he tossed the chosen covering onto the bed and slipped into the bathroom to wash. He left the house roughly half an hour later.

Never did he notice the pair of astonished blue eyes watching him. Heero Yuy had been seated in the corner of the living room the entire time.

Siren songs filled his ears as Wufei sat high in the theater. Below, on the stage, the singers walked about, giving their voices to the public. Cio-Cio-san paused and threw open her arms with joy as Sharpless spoke of a letter from her beloved, Lieutenant Pinkerton, not waiting to hear the less than pleasant news he had for her. The woman's voice was clear and full, quite as beautiful as she herself. Her white painted face and Chinese styled clothing made her the belle of the production.

Someone sat down next to Wufei, but he didn't bother heeding him. The opera was quite interesting enough for him.

"I'm late!" whispered the man beside him, young by the sound of his voice. Odd inflection, as well. "What's going on?"

Wufei frowned in annoyance, but answered anyway. "Madama Butterfly is celebrating word from her American husband."

"Mind giving me the gist of what I missed?"

"As you wish," muttered the Chinese boy quietly. "The woman in red is Madama Butterfly. She married an American sailor, who left her. Three years later, she's still waiting for him. Now, the sailor's consul, Sharpless, has a letter for her from the sailor, Pinkerton, but she keeps interrupting him to shout her joy at Pinkerton remembering her."

"And that guy with the stick up his ass?"

He winced internally. Why was someone like this who, apparently, had no interest in classical opera, here bothering him…? He was even in one of the small, private balconies!

"Prince Yamadori. He's trying to court Madama Butterfly, but she refuses him."

"I'd go for him," replied the other man with a leer in his voice. Wufei rolled his eyes and turned his attention back down to the stage where Suzuki was now singing. The dark alto was like a wave of soothing coolness, syrupy and smooth. He had to admit to himself that hers was his favorite of the night.

"What are they talking about?"

Damn that idiot… "Madama Butterfly has just revealed that Pinkerton left her with child."

"Bastard!"

"He didn't know."

They fell quiet as they continued to watch the singers. Wufei had been impressed by the costuming of the show. They were intricate and beautiful and fit every character perfectly. Even the child, Sorrow, was impeccably clothed, showing his innocence. On the show went, through Pinkerton's return and the revelation of his marriage to an American woman. He listened with closed eyes to the voices of Suzuki, Pinkerton, and Sharpless, the rich alto mixing flawlessly with the smooth tenor and booming bass. This was his favorite part of the opera.

"What's happening now?" the other asked as their part ended.

"Pinkerton cannot bear to face Madama Butterfly now that he knows she was waiting for him. There, she comes out to find, not her husband, but his American wife, Kate."

"Asshole!"

"She agrees to give up her son to them, but only if Pinkerton comes for him," continued Wufei. "Now, she takes her father's dagger and sends Suzuki away so that she may kill herself."

They watched as Suzuki brought forth the boy for a final farewell and then as she sent him away. They didn't move or speak as she sang for her last time and ended her life as Pinkerton shouted her name. When the crowd rose for a standing ovation, clapping loud and long, Wufei got up and silently left the theater.

Back in the balcony, Duo Maxwell silently tried to figure out just how he'd had a conversation with someone that didn't look at him once. Confused, hurt, and frightened for the Chinese boy, Duo left the building and met Heero out in the parking lot.

"You weren't kidding," he whispered to Heero in the comfort of his arms, voice shaky with suppressed tears. "He didn't notice me at all…"

"Une has already given us leave for as long as we need," Heero told him quietly as he pet the long plait. "We are going to save him, Duo."

"But what if-"

"We will succeed."

Sunlight should be outlawed. That was firmly Wufei's belief as he woke up and glared blearily at the window from his cocoon of blankets. It shined so brightly, taunting him and laughing. With a little groan, Wufei pushed himself up and out of bed, blowing strands of black hair from his face as it fluttered around messily. It was a Saturday, but he still had to get up. Had to keep with his routine. It was all he had now.

A smell wafted from outside the bedroom. Wufei frowned a little but dismissed it. He must have left dinner out, again. Stepping into bathroom, he showered a little slower than normal, letting himself enjoy the hot water hammering against his shoulders. Wufei got out eventually and dried before efficiently dressing. Saturday or not, there were things to do. He felt the slight discomfort in his stomach. That was thing number one.

However, Wufei didn't quite get to thing number one the way he thought he would. He stood very still in the doorway between the living room and kitchen, eyes riveted on the moving figure who was setting a plate down on the table. The figure in black paused himself before looking up. A great grin spread immediately, fake and hurried.

"Morning, Wu-babe!"

"Duo," he replied, voice distant. There was a flicker of paint through the violet eyes but it was gone just as quickly. Wufei's shock wasn't as easily quelled. What was Duo doing there? Une swore not to give his address on the promise that he wouldn't fade again! He was sure he should be more angry with her, but couldn't quite make himself be. That had been happening a lot lately.

"Sit down and eat before it gets cold," Duo admonished as he did just that. Slowly, Wufei moved to do the same. He ate silently but listened as Duo babbled on as usual. There was something…something tight in his chest at this, something he didn't dare think about. He couldn't risk his mask now. He didn't dare think he was worthy of Duo's attentions now.

Duo didn't leave that day. He made himself comfortable on the couch and slept over. He didn't leave the day after, or the one after that either. Actually, it seemed he was intent on staying. Wufei tolerated it, of course. If Duo wanted to be there, he wouldn't make him leave. He almost…liked it. Or would have, if he allowed himself to feel such things.

He didn't. Feel, that is.

After a week, Wufei finally queried him on the matter.

"What are you doing here?"

Duo looked up at him and replied that he was cutting up an apple, though he knew what the other was talking about. He wanted Wufei to spell it out.

"Why are you still here, in my house? Why haven't you gone home?"

Again, Duo simply stared at him. His face had gone serious and seemed to age a few years within seconds.

"Do you want me to leave?"

And that was what got him. Wufei couldn't reply to it. If he did, he would be acknowledging the feelings he kept locked far away. He didn't dare. So, Duo didn't leave. Not a day, nor a week, nor a month after that. They fell into a soothing pattern of living. Duo would go and do whatever he wished while Wufei was at school, or perhaps he stayed home, because he was always there to greet the Chinese boy at the door. It was utterly frustrating for him as it kept leaving him feeling so oddly in his chest that, at first, he thought he'd starting having a heart attack.

One day, Duo wasn't home when he got there. Wufei searched the apartment but found no sign of the braided pilot. He knew Duo probably had things to do and was simply staying somewhere else to get them finished. That didn't stop the off tightness in his chest or the rogue thoughts through his head. He settled on the couch to read, but found himself unable to concentrate. Thus, he spent the entire evening sitting on that couch.

Duo arrived near midnight and carefully crept inside so as not to wake the other man. He was quite surprised to find Wufei asleep on the couch. He stepped over, eyes looking over to never-quite-relaxed face with black hairs flying free of his ponytail. Slowly, he reached down and touched one cheek. Wufei jumped into awareness immediately and snatched up Duo's hand, flipping the American onto the ground as he moved himself over to pin him. Duo blinked up at him in surprise. It had gone so fast that he barely noticed it.

"It's just me, Wu-babe," he said quietly. Wufei stared down at him, black eyes only half conscious.

"Duo..?"

"Damn straight. Better get off of me before I get ideas." The plaited boy smirked up at him. Wufei blinked and got up, pulling Duo to his feet. He glanced about, seemingly lost. It was quite dark, as he'd never turned on a lamp. Duo did so before turning to him. "Were you waiting up for me?"

Wufei stared at him…and then realized he had been. He didn't like it when Duo wasn't there when he got home. He was too used to the braided boy's presence. He'd been…worried?

"Wufei."

The Chinese boy jerked and looked at Duo again. Large, violet eyes stared into his from mere inches away. He felt his face flush and his heart was beating fast. What was going on?

"You were worried about me," said Duo quietly. Wufei said nothing. Slowly, a smile spread over Duo's face. "You were. I can tell."

"If you're quite finished," Wufei muttered, feeling cross with himself for such a slip and turning to leave. Duo grabbed him at the door to the bedroom and whipped him around, silencing the shocked cry with his mouth. Wufei simply melted. He clung tightly, taking all he could as Duo pressed him against the wall, helping to suppose his suddenly weakening knees. He felt his mind disintegrating and then focusing on the sensations roaming through his body. Duo's tongue mapping his mouth. Duo's hands playing at his sides. Duo's heat against his body. Duo, Duo….Duo…

And as suddenly as it began, they were parted. Wufei stared into those violet eyes dazedly. He barely realize he was holding onto the other boy so tight that his knuckles were white. A smile came to Duo's face.

"So," he said gently, "you do still want me!"

Wufei felt a flush come to his face but yes…Yes he did. It was so strange. He was bombarded by feelings, those he had closed away since the end of the wars. He could feel again! It was as if with that one kiss, Duo had blasted away every wall he had. He wanted to laugh and cry and scream all at the same time. The braided pilot saw something for he dragged the other against him tightly, hands rubbing his back and hair. Wufei only held harder. At some point, they stumbled over to the bed, where they fell asleep almost instantly.

Thus began the courtship of Chang Wufei. He was quite surprise when Duo announced his plans to formally court the Chinese boy, dates and silliness all required. Wufei found himself dragged over the city in the evenings and treated to fine dinners and shows. It was the shows that got him for he knew Duo had little interest in opera, yet took him often. Wufei returned the gesture by steeling himself and taking Duo out to arcades and movies. It was weeks before another kiss was allowed. Longer before they pulled each other into intimacy.

As he woke one morning, feeling warm along his right side and icy on the left (Duo had stolen the sheets again,) Wufei wondered how he had ever lived without the hyper boy at his side. And for Duo to seek him out again…

He could remember their first time, just after Heero's lock out of Duo. It hadn't been about the pleasure then, simply a need to lose oneself in bodily lust. He remembered trying to take the other boy gently and Duo having none of it. He remembered the feel of Duo's tears at his shoulder when he came. 'Why am I remembering this now?' he wondered to himself. After all, the previous night had been none of that rough coupling. It was soft, slow, gentle…but not at all rough. Wufei smiled a little and glanced over at the still sleeping bundle.

"I love you, Duo."

Then he promptly grabbed the edge of the sheets and pulled them over himself, earning a startled squawk from a half awake pilot.

Wufei dropped the cup. It bounced on the linoleum of the kitchen, groaning but not breaking. He barely heard the sound. His wide eyes were, instead, locked onto the form standing in the middle of his living room. One he didn't at all want to see yet wished with all his heart that this was real. He couldn't move, body frozen in place. He could barely breathe. At once, all the pain and hurt was roaring back into him, ripping at his insides with cruel claws.

"Hello, Wufei," said an ever so quiet voice. Still, he didn't move. The other took a step forward. He looked awkward and his face…his eyes… Wufei couldn't stand it. He looked away.

"Hello, Heero," he replied in near silence. They stood like that, quietly, trying to figure out what to say but no words came to them. Slowly, Wufei lifted his gaze and looked over the blue eyed pilot. Heero looked good. Whatever he'd been doing kept him in shape well. His hair was still just as messy, body lean and tanned, but his face… Others wouldn't be able to see the difference, but he could. He had memorized that face.

"I'm sorry."

Wufei didn't say a word. Heero's jaw clinched before he jerked his gaze away.

"The way I acted…What I said…It was inexcusable."

Nothing at all in reply. Heero shifted his weight but still couldn't look up.

"I came back…to give you another try at killing me, if that would soothe you."

Again, nothing. He was near getting angry. Jerking his head up, he opened his mouth to speak once more, only to have a hard fist slam into his face. Heero stumbled back a bit and touched his cheek.

"I don't want to kill you. That was enough for me," said Wufei softly. "Now take Duo and go home."

"He's comfortable here," replied the Japanese boy, shifting his jaw to work through the shark pain. Wufei still hadn't learned to pull his punches… The said boy looked at him with a particular expression.

"You may leave," he said finally as he turned to pick up the cup and take it back to the kitchen. He got only a few steps before long, warm arms wrapped about him and a hard body melted against his back. Wufei let out a quick breath and tensed. "Let go, Yuy."

"No," the Japanese boy murmured softly. "I won't let go. And I won't leave."

"There isn't an extra bed," Wufei said, his voice oddly quiet and almost pleading for the other Asian to leave him be.

"I'll sleep on the floor."

"You'll have to pay for your food and part of the rent."

"I have money."

"Shelf space-"

"Not a problem."

"Damn it, Yuy! Let go of me this instant!"

And he did. Wufei jerked away from him, whipping about to glare at the other boy. Heero stood still and took it, his face impassive. The rage in Wufei's eyes dimmed.

"You mean to stay, then? For how long?"

"As long as you'll have me."

Wufei was quiet for a long while. Then, finally.

"It will be a while, then."

"I look forward to it."