AN: Just want to mention…I don't hate Relena and I don't hate Trowa. It's just that I really can't see Trowa paired up with anyone except Quatre. ('Course normally I like 1x2x1 or sometimes 2x5x2 instead of 2x4x2, but that is the challenge of writing this fic.) And I really do think Relena would wear pink leather and look damn good in it so I couldn't resist giving her and Dorothy a cameo… ^_^

To the people who are worried about poor Hiiro…well…I'm not gonna say anything except read the Pairings listings. ^_~ It's never been my intention to let a good looking boy like that go to waste…

This is getting very long (again) but I really want to thank everyone that has been patient and kept up with this story. I know it's taking a long time. And extra, extra thanks for the reviews.

Warnings: Just Slash in this part.

Pairings: Main pairing is 4x2. However, there will also be coming up later: 1+2, 3+4, 1x5.

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or any of the characters, hentai or non-hentai, herein.

Chess

Part IV: Middlegame - Planning Strategy

by Xellas M.

Duo lay awake, staring at the ceiling and listening to the almost mechanically even breathing of the pilot asleep in the bed next to his. He was going over the evening's events. There was always a period of adjustment for him after a battle and although this was a different type of fight, the Deathscythe pilot still had to reconcile himself with his actions.

Although the braided boy had no moral issues with anything that had happened earlier and could freely admit that he had enjoyed himself immensely, something at the back of his mind was tingling. He couldn't shake a vague sense of wrongness.

Was it because of Hiiro? Perhaps unsurprisingly, both Hiiro and Trowa had been waiting up, pretending to watch an old black and white movie. The normally quiet pair had a remarkable store of questions waiting. Things like: how had the mission gone? It had taken all of Duo's considerable creativity to get through the debriefing without telling a lie, but he had managed. Still, somehow he knew his fellow pilots hadn't been fooled.

And he definitely didn't feel any guilt for sleeping with the Hiiro-look-alike. If anything, Duo was glad he had been able to play out that fantasy in a manner where no one would get hurt. Had Hiiro ever responded to the violet-eyed pilot's interest, had they become a couple, eventually it was the Japanese boy that would have been hurt. Once Hiiro opened his heart to someone else - and it would happen eventually - he would be very fragile.

Like Quatre, Duo did not want a relationship that centered on taking care of someone else. Like Quatre, he wanted an equal.

Suddenly the Deathscythe pilot bolted up in his bed. That was the problem. Quatre wanted an equal; he wanted Shinigami. Not Duo. Duo would never have manipulated someone he wanted to be with, namely Quatre, into messing around with a third party. Duo by himself would never have screwed that man with anyone watching. Under the circumstances, Shinigami had done the right thing, he always did the right thing, but he also made choices the cheerful and friendly American boy would never make.

The braided pilot knew that he and the God of Death were the same individual. He also knew that washing his hands of Shinigami's actions was tantamount to telling a lie. He accepted the cold killer inside, welcomed him as a necessary and important part of who he was. Still, Shinigami was only a part of him. A part that was incapable of love. Did Quatre really want a relationship without love or affection?

Even if the blond did, Duo did not.

Well, it was now his turn, wasn't it? Although still wide awake, the American boy laid back down quietly in his bed, lips turning in a slight frown as he made his plans.

* * * * *

Not surprisingly, Duo slept late the following morning. What was unusual was that he almost missed breakfast. With a burst of energy, the cheerful boy jumped out of bed and began racing down the hall to the kitchen.

He only made it halfway. Trowa was there, apparently waiting for the violet-eyed boy to make his appearance.

"Can we talk?" The green-eyed boy, bravely risking life and limb, stepped out into the passageway between Duo and the kitchen.

"After breakfast?" The ravenous pilot said hopefully, trying to dodge past his friend.

Trowa hadn't spent all that time taking care of wild animals for nothing. Effortlessly, he blocked the eager boy's attempts to get past. "Please."

Duo let out a breath that blew his bangs straight up from his forehead. "Yeah, OK, sure. What is it that's more important than preventing a fellow Gundam pilot from starving to death?"

"It's about Quatre."

That took the wind out of the braided boy's sails. Trowa looked at Duo thoughtfully. The onetime circus clown had always known he hadn't had a chance with someone like Quatre, but Trowa didn't think the loquacious pilot was good enough for the blond either.

"What about Quatre?" Duo asked nervously.

"This isn't going to take long. I don't know what's going on between the two of you and I don't want to. But if you hurt him, if this is just one of your stupid games, you are going to regret it." Having said his piece, Trowa stepped aside to allow the hungry boy to get his breakfast.

Duo gaped, stunned. He even temporarily forgot about food. He was a threat to Quatre? Unbelievable. "I wouldn't worry about it if I were you."

"That's just like you!" Trowa's voice was passionate. Jealousy that he knew he didn't have a right to feel became anger and found a target in Duo. "You don't worry about anyone but yourself! If I were you, I'd - "

" - But that's just it, you're not me, are you Trowa?" The words were spoken softly, comfortingly. Trowa wasn't anybody, really; even the name Trowa Barton belonged to a dead man. The violet-eyed boy understood the circus performer's feelings and why it was Quatre had chosen Duo instead. Pedestals can be uncomfortable places. And Trowa had so little to hang on to, not even a name of his own, that he was owed this one small illusion. He had no family, no warmth and affection so Quatre gave it to him as best he could by pretending to be what the green-eyed boy needed him to be.

Duo's reply only made Trowa angrier. "Why would I want to be you? So I can laugh everything off all the time? So I can spend all my time pretending that we're just a normal bunch of teenagers?"

The green-eyed boy's tirade continued, but the Deathscythe pilot stopped listening. The Heavyarms pilot had everything wrong, but to correct him on his errors would not only be time consuming but hurtful. It was time to bail out of the situation.

He waited patiently until Trowa finished speaking. "I understand." Duo said, completely seriously. Before the rant could begin again, the braided boy left to catch up on his delayed breakfast.

* * *

When he finally did manage to make it to the kitchen, Duo was surprised to find Hiiro still there. Normally, the Japanese boy ate a disgustingly square and healthy breakfast - usually something blended and raw and nasty - as quickly as possible before hurrying off to do whatever was expected of him. Instead, the blue-eyed pilot was standing in front of the stove. Cooking. Not cooking just anything either. The Perfect Soldier was expertly making chocolate-chip pancakes, which happened to be the all-time favorite breakfast of another of the house's occupants.

Hiiro was waiting for a reason. He knew Duo well enough to tell when the braided boy was being evasive and the way he had acted last night when returning with Quatre definitely qualified. Something had happened between the two outgoing pilots. How serious the situation was had yet to be established. Pilot 01's mission for this morning's breakfast was to study his subject, namely Pilot 02, and determine whether or not the Japanese boy stood a chance in Hell of reclaiming the God of Death's affection. It had taken the threat of losing Duo for Hiiro to understand how important the braided boy really was to him. The Wing pilot was ready to proceed given the slightest possibility of success.

By the time the violet-eyed boy sat down, he was beyond jumpy. First, he had been out late the previous evening playing sex games with Quatre, during which he had run into Dorothy and Relena. Then, this morning he had been accosted by the normally quiet Trowa and subjected to one of his rare, but not unheard of, emotional tirades. Now, Hiiro was apparently waiting in the kitchen with the American's favorite breakfast and being just a little too nice for comfort.

Duo breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn't run into WuFei just yet. The way things were going, he half expected the uptight Chinese boy to be wandering around in a pink flowery dress and singing "Bitch". Much as the Deathscythe pilot loved surprises, he wasn't sure how much more of all this he could take.

"Hungry?" Hiiro asked. He didn't bother to wait for a reply but instead expertly flipped a large stack of the spotted golden cakes one by one, high into the air, each landing just so and forming a perfect stack on the ravenous pilot's plate.

"Starving!" Duo exclaimed gleefully. He watched, fascinated by his roommate's skill. The braided boy was pleased to note that for the first time, he was hungrier for the food than he was for the beautiful body that had prepared it.

Hiiro set down the plate. He even allowed the barest hint of a smile to touch his eyes as he watched his predictable friend tear into the treat. Conversation not being his forte, he waited patiently for Duo to begin talking. It didn't take long…but at least the violet-eyed boy swallowed his food before speaking.

"So, to what do I owe this pleasure? You didn't raid Deathscythe for parts again or anything like that, did you?"

The Japanese boy snorted. He was never going to be able to live that incident down. "No. I prefer to use parts that actually work, thank you."

Duo choked on his juice. A joke? From Hiiro? The braided boy was becoming more and more convinced that the stress of war had finally cracked them all. "Are you feeling alright, man?"

"Just fine." This was good, the Wing pilot thought. The other boy had asked how he was feeling, which meant Duo still cared. Time to proceed. Hiiro watched his friend shovel the food into his face faster than Lady Une switched personalities and tried his best to figure out the right way to ask Duo out. But before the stoic boy could figure out what to say, his hopes were dashed with a single question.

"Have you seen Quatre yet this morning? I need to talk with him." There was open eagerness in the American's voice and the same smile on his face he had once worn when talking with Hiiro.

The Wing pilot's shoulders sagged a full two millimeters. He had lost, after all. "He didn't say where he went, only that he had some things to take care of and that he would be back later this afternoon."

Duo nodded. He was now a master at reading Hiiro's body language and had seen the Japanese boy's slump at the mention of Quatre. Duo began eating even faster to cover the now-awkward silence. It irritated him more than a little bit that the same boy who had appeared oblivious to the American's desires for so long was suddenly showing interest. He looked down to discover that every delicious crumb of pancake and every melted morsel of chocolate had mysteriously vanished.

"Well, thanks for breakfast. If you see him, please let him know I'm looking for him, OK?" With a cheerful wave and a fake smile, Duo left the table before he said something he would later regret.

Hiiro sighed and nodded at the black-clad pilot's retreating back. The Perfect Soldier refused to dwell on the missed opportunity. What might have been between he and Duo would simply become another buried regret, surfacing only as a subplot during his regularly scheduled nightmares.

* * * * *

It was late that afternoon when Duo finally found Quatre.

As soon as the Deathscythe pilot entered the room, the blond stopped typing and looked at him. A small, knowing smile tilted the corners of his mouth as his eyes and his senses merged with sensual memories from the evening before. The Arabian had no idea what to expect today; a sensation of nervousness to which the blond was entirely unaccustomed tingled through his small frame.

"We leave tomorrow at 06:00. Be prepared to fight. We will be gone several days. I should warn you, in fairness, this will be pretty dangerous. Still interested?"

Quatre was relieved that despite the strange mixture of feelings he was sensing from his friend, the violet-eyed boy still wanted to play. "I will be ready. Since we're all laying low right now leaving for awhile shouldn't present a problem." An impish gleam lit his clear blue eyes as he couldn't resist adding, "Did you sleep well last night?"

The braided boy studied his potential partner. That deceptive softness was still there, but only as a thin layer, emphasizing rather than hiding the very experienced and incredibly attractive man underneath. Duo truly hoped things would work out as planned. He wanted Quatre badly, more badly than he had ever wanted anyone in his life. They would be good for each other and besides, the blond was just too damn sexy for his own good. As of last night, the violet-eyed boy's plans had changed. He was playing to lose, but only if the Arabian was capable of meeting the braided boy's terms. It wouldn't be Shinigami in the empath's bed. It would just be Duo.

* * * * *

It didn't surprise Quatre in the least that Duo's idea of a date began with breaking into an Oz spaceport. Fortunately, they weren't headed for any of the top-security areas, but rather for the section from which diplomatic and military shuttles were launched. The blond began to understand when they finally reached their destination. After quickly knocking out a couple of stewards and stealing their uniforms, the pair boarded a special flight that would take them straight to L2.

The discovery warmed the empath's heart. Not only was the game drawing to a close, but the fact that they were going to the place Duo had grown up indicated that for the Deathscythe pilot this trip was something special. Quatre had attracted Duo's interest by the most physical method possible. Now the blond would prove himself worthy of the American's affection as well.

* * * * *

~End Part IV.