Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Advanced Reservations ❯ Chapter 10

 

Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue. Won't get much if you do.

 

See first part for any warnings.

 

On with the next part!!

 

 

True to her word, three days into the job of guarding the senator's daughter, a different Preventers agent appeared at the door, relieving Trowa from his duty. Agent Nichols handed him a thick manila envelope with a smile, saying it was a final gift from the Commander, just as Trowa was heading out the door with his bag.

 

In his rental car, curiosity pushed him to open the envelope. He tilted it up, letting the contents spill out onto the passenger car seat, grinning when he saw the items. There was the lease for his apartment, stating that it had been voided and the remainder of his rent for the year would be refunded to his account, less the fee for breaking the contract. He found two receipts for the warehouses, one for the things from his apartment the other for where his car and motorcycle were being stored until he could reclaim them. A new phone was among the clutter, one that was not networked by the Preventers as his current one was, though the number would remain the same unless he requested it be changed.

 

The last three items were the ones that had his eyes growing in surprise and pleasure. Two checks, one that was his last paycheck containing pay for another two weeks, and one that had a note from Une saying that it was an early retirement gift from her and the whole of the Preventers. The last item was the title for a shuttle, approved for trips to and from the colonies. The title was listed as being co-owned by him and Duo.

 

Trowa realized that the commander was aware of Duo's habit of bringing people from the colonies, and this was her way of showing her approval and support. He grinned, anticipating the look on his lover's face when he heard the news. The shuttle that Duo had been using was in good shape, but it was old and small, only able to ferry four passengers at a time. With the new acquisition, they would be able to transport twelve people on one trip.

 

Thinking of his absent lover, his smile faded into a concerned frown. Duo had called Sunday morning after his arrival in Miami. They had only been able to talk for a few minutes, as the American was on his way to the crime scene that used to be one of his many restaurants.

 

Trowa had been disturbed to learn that Duo was alone, not with Car or Alexi as he had believed. The other man had waved off his concern, stating that he would be surrounded by the local police and his own employees. He had managed to extract a promise from Duo, who vowed to be careful and would remain aware of his environment. Trowa still didn't feel good about the situation, his intuition telling him that Duo was walking into danger.

 

After disconnecting the call, Trowa had felt even more unsettled, wanting to go to Miami immediately, but still unable to back up his concerns. His worry had only grown in the last three days when there had been no more contact with Duo. His new lover had promised to keep in touch, letting Trowa know the progress of the investigation, yet there had been no communication.

 

Picking up his new phone, Trowa dialed the number he had memorized in the last few days. He felt his shoulders slump when he was sent directly to voice mail again, as it had everytime over the last few days. After leaving a quick message, requesting that Duo call him as soon as possible, he made the decision to go to Maxwell's, hoping he would find some answers there.

 

 

 

The moment he walked into the restaurant, he was pounced on by a very frantic bartender with red hair in an untamed mass around her head. “Please tell me you've heard something from Duo,” she questioned her eyes wide and panicked.

 

He didn't let out the gasp he felt forming, instead taking a deep breath, willing his heart to beat slower. “I was going to ask you the same thing,” he finally told her.

 

Grabbing his hand, Car pulled him behind the bar and into the room at the end of it. He took a moment to look around, realizing that this was the office that Car used, but Duo had obviously spent much time inside it, proved by the many photos that were scattered around the space.

 

Seeing one photo in a prominent position on the large desk, he picked it up and turned it around, releasing the gasp he had held in before. The picture was one that Quatre had taken of him giving Duo a piggyback ride. Duo's grin in the image was clearly happy and Trowa was wearing a small smile of his own, a rarity in those days. The American had usually been able to pull the strange expression out of him, regardless of how much he tried to hide it.

 

“He cares for you a lot,” Car was watching him with a small smile that appeared to be honest but tired. “He's kept that picture in that spot since he opened this place, never moving it.”

 

“I feel the same way about him,” he replied to the question that he could see in her eyes. “And I am concerned about him. Is it normal for him to go somewhere alone?”

 

“Yeah. It's something he does all the time, no matter how much we fuss at him for doing it.” Her expression grew pensive, eyes focused inward, “But usually he calls to let us know what's going on. He calls all of us, Trowa. Me, Alexi, and David. There has never been a time when he doesn't call at least once a day, knowing how much we worry. I think something has happened to him.”

 

Setting the photo back on the desk carefully, he nodded slowly. “He promised to let me know how the investigation was progressing, but I haven't heard anything either. Everytime I call, I get his voice mail.” He stood for a moment, his finger tracing Duo's face on the picture. “How fast could we get to Miami?”

 

“Duo took the jet, so we have to go on a commercial flight. I'll call, but we probably won't get a flight until tomorrow at the earliest.”

 

She reached for the vid-phone to make the arrangements, but he held up a hand, stalling her movements. “I have a better idea. There is someone I know that could get us there faster, and he owes me. He owes me a lot.” He moved to the vid-phone and pushed the buttons to place a call to someone he hadn't spoke to in months.

 

When the other man answered the vid-phone, he didn't look at the caller instantly, his eyes focused on someone behind the screen. His hair was as light as Trowa remembered, the way sun would look it someone managed to bottle it for sale. His eyes were the same as they used to be, a sea-blue of the still ocean in midday, right now crinkled at the edges with laughter - until his eyes meet Trowa's, then the smile and happiness faded, leaving Trowa to feel sorry for taking the happiness away from the man he had once cared a great deal for.

 

He abruptly realized that, for the first time since their break-up, he no longer felt any bitterness toward the blonde or his new lover, though he felt quite angry about the way he had been deceived for several years. After waiting a moment, he finally managed to speak in greeting, “Hello, Quatre.”

 

“Trowa, I thought we agreed that there was nothing else to discuss,” the Arabian sighed, his voice weary, obviously expecting another fight.

 

“I'm not calling about us, Quatre. We're done and I'm okay with that, though I wish you could have told me about your involvement with Zechs another way.” Trowa waved a hand, shaking his head, keeping his eyes on the other man's, “That's done, we're over, and that's not why I'm calling. I need your help.”

 

Quatre's face became expressive as Trowa spoke, showing his regret for the way they had broke up, then signifying his confusion at Trowa's request. He briefly looked beyond the screen, shaking his head to his companion. Trowa held his tongue, knowing who was on the other side of the screen. When Quatre looked back at him, he seemed resigned to helping. Trowa assumed that his ex-lover still expected him to argue about their relationship. “What can I do for you, Trowa?”

 

“Do you have a plane or jet anywhere near the California area? I need to get to Miami as soon as possible.”

 

“But…I'm not in the California or Florida area.”

 

“This isn't about you, Quatre,” Trowa couldn't control the frustration in his voice. “I told you that I'm over it.”

 

The blonde gave him a curious look, but grabbed the hand held computer he used for his business. It took several seconds, during which Trowa was almost bouncing in his seat with the urge to do something, anything, to find his lover. “There is a company plane in San Francisco.”

 

“Can you get it to come to Los Angeles? I can meet it at the airport,” Trowa looked up when Car began to wave her hands for attention, then nodded when she held up three fingers, pointed to herself and mouthing Alexi and David. “Is it big enough to take four passengers, myself included?”

 

“Yes, of course, but I can't just let you use a company plane so you can go off for a vacation,” Quatre's voice was getting a stubborn tone, one that Trowa had learned to hate.

 

“I don't have to take a fucking vacation, Quatre, since I am no longer employed. Duo's missing and I need to get to Miami to find him. Are you going to help me or should I quit wasting my time with you?”

 

“What do you mean you aren't employed? What are you talking about? Why is Duo missing? Give me some answers, Trowa,” Quatre was livid, eyes wide with disbelief, his tone chiding and condescending at the same time.

 

Trowa had reached the end of his patience, and he hadn't had much to begin with, his fear for Duo growing with each passing second. The urge to get to his love was all-encompassing, and he was tired of dealing with his ex and his assumptions. “Forget it,” he barked, ignoring the shocked look from the man on the screen to look at Car. “Call all the local charters and get us a flight to Miami, no matter the cost. We don't have time to waste.” He took a second to glance back at the man looking through the screen at him, the pale face staring at him wordlessly. “Sorry that I bothered you. I thought that you would help a friend in need. I never believed that you would let your feelings for me get in the way of that,” he sneered in anger.

 

He was reaching out to disconnect the call when Quatre's panicked voice called out, “Wait! I can have the jet at the Los Angeles airport in an hour. Will you tell me what is going on?”

 

“Some other time,” he replied absently. “Right now I'm in a hurry and we need to leave. I'm sorry to have to ask you for this, Quatre. I won't be calling you again.” He finished his aborted movement, pressing the button that would cut the link between him and his former lover. With a shake of his head, he put the past behind him and rose out of his seat, firmly convinced that he would find the person that was his future.

 

Car was standing in front of the desk, eyes wide. “Was that Quatre Winner, of the famous Winner family?”

 

“That would be the one,” he stated with distaste for the title.

 

“And did I just hear you bless him out because he didn't jump to help?” Her amusement was obvious, eyes sparkling.

 

After thinking about it for a second, he grinned, realizing that it was one of the only times he had ever stood up to the Arabian. “I guess I did.”

 

“Well, hell yeah! That's the Maxwell way to get things done. Now let's go find our boy,” she let the grin she had been holding in light up her features, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the restaurant.