Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Hello ❯ Chapter Seven ( Chapter 7 )

A/N: Special thank yous to everyone who has reviewed (sorry that I have been lax about responding this week!), and a very special thank you to Solaris, who has graciously volunteered to beta this fic for me!

 

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

The next day, I got up early and went to the office. I worked determinedly through the inbox on my desk. At three o'clock, having finished all of my paperwork, I went to the Preventers' gym to lift weights.

 

I have never understood why some agents pay for private gym memberships rather than use the provided facilities. Located in the basement of the Preventers' building, the gym has everything an exercise enthusiast needs, at least in my opinion. There are free weights (including barbells, dumbbells, and kettlebells), resistance machines, treadmills, multiple types of exercise bikes, two rowing machines, two racquetball court, two squash courts, an Olympic-sized swimming pool, and a sparring ring. What more could a private facility offer?

 

When I arrived in the basement, I was surprised to find Duo standing in the middle of the weight room, hands on his hips and looking around with a displeased expression. I stopped when I saw him, and he smiled and waved at me.

 

“Hey, Heero. Getting your workout?”

 

I blinked at him and could not help but wonder what else I might do in the gym. “Yes. You look… displeased with the equipment. Has it done something to you? Is there a particular machine I should avoid?”

 

Duo chuckled. “I can't believe I heard you make a joke. Really two jokes in a row. It's just… Trowa and I usually spar everyday before I use the machines. I'm trying to decide what to do instead.”

 

“Ah.” I hesitated briefly. “I would be happy to spar with you in Trowa's place, if you would like?”

 

Duo eyed me speculatively. Expressions that I could not interpret rapidly crossed his face before settling into a small smile. “Sure. Thanks, Heero.”

 

I nodded. “No problem. It will be good practice for me. Would you like to warm up with me first?”

 

Oddly enough, hints of color rose in Duo's cheeks when I asked this, but he was quick to reply. “Sure. That would be nice.”

 

We walked around the sparring mat a few times to warm up before stepping onto the mat. We took up positions opposite one another.

 

“Do you have any rules that you and Trowa usually abide by?”

 

“Uh… Don't break my bones?”

 

I glared at Duo, although part of me was hurt that this was even a concern to him. “I may not be an expert at human interactions, but I am not stupid. I will not break your bones or cause any other permanent damage to you. Are you ready to proceed?”

 

Duo had the grace to look chagrined before nodding. He then surprised me by giving me a deep bow. I returned the bow and then we began our dance across the mat.

 

It was wonderful. I had not sparred with anyone since the war, when Chang would occasionally honor me with a match. I fight with the martial arts training that Doctor J prescribed for me. It is what he considered to be the most valuable aspects and moves of many different schools. Karate, judo, taekwondo, jujutsu, aikido, sambo, hapkido… I have had training in all of them.

 

Duo was the complete opposite. He was all wild grace and innate skill, trained by the hard lessons of growing up on the streets. I was pleased to find that we were evenly matched despite our different styles. Every time I managed to pin him to the floor, he found a way to squirm from under me. He moved like, like… an eel or something similar. He dodged or blocked my kicks and punches, and I dodged or blocked his in return. We moved across the mat so in sync that it almost seemed choreographed.

 

Time and place fell away. There was nothing but me, Duo, and our bodies meeting one another in friendly combat. Eventually, though, one of us made a mistake. I feinted to the left and Duo corrected a split-second too late. That split-second was all I needed to take us both down to the mat. Once there, I placed my arm across his shoulders and pinned his body with mine.

 

We were both sweating like mad and gasping for breath. Duo tried feebly to twist from under me as he had before. “Yield,” I hissed. Duo gasped for air and nodded.

 

“I yield,” he managed to wheeze out.

 

At his submission, it was as though a switch had been flipped. I suddenly returned to reality. I could feel the heat from Duo's skin against mine, and my eyes noticed the wildly beating pulse fluttering in his neck. A strange feeling grew in my stomach, and I felt my skin flush, although I did not understand why. Uncomfortable, I managed the energy to flip over and lay on my back next to him, panting. When I did so, the uncomfortable feeling eased. I lay wheezing and staring at the ceiling while Duo did the same next to me.

 

“Shit, Yuy,” he managed. “That,” he gasped out, “was incredible.”

 

I am not sure where I got the energy from, but I managed a chuckle. “I take it… I was… an acceptable substitution… for Barton?”

 

Somehow, Duo also managed a chuckle. “More . . . than . . . acceptable.”

 

“Good. I am… glad.” I felt a faint twinge of hurt again. “I trust that… I did not cause… you any permanent… injury?”

 

“Not… unless I cough… up a lung.” Duo turned his head to look at me. “Heero, I'm sorry… I asked. It… was stupid. I know you… wouldn't hurt me.”

 

I turned to look at him and our eyes met. He smiled at me and squeezed my hand with his, and I wanted to do something, but I did not know what. Instead, I spent a few minutes recovering before I stood and held out a hand to him. He grinned at me and grabbed my hand, then used it to help pull himself up. I noted that although we were both still panting, our exertion level seemed to be much more manageable. A glance at the clock on the wall surprised me, though. Apparently we had sparred for almost an hour. I went and grabbed a towel to dry myself off with while Duo did the same.

 

“Still feel like weight training?”

 

Duo snorted. “Sure. Do you?”

 

“Yes.” We both headed to the machines. Silence descended as we lifted weights together.

 

I had just finished with the leg press machine when Duo came to stand near me. “Spot me and then I'll spot you?”

 

“Sure.”

 

Duo laid with his back on the bench press as I added weights to the bar. I stopped at three hundred pounds and raised a questioning eyebrow at him. He rolled his eyes at me. “Add another hundred, Yuy. I'm not that much of a wimp.”

 

After I added the required weights, he proceeded to slowly press the bar up and down. I said nothing, but I was impressed nonetheless. Duo's muscles are more developed than I had realized. When he was done, I took the bar from him and gently sat it on the stand. Duo hopped up, and I took his place.

 

“Alright, Yuy. Make me feel like a wimp. How much am I adding?”

 

Rather than answer immediately, I frowned at Duo. “Four hundred pounds more, please. And you are not a wimp. Four hundred pounds is quite impressive. Doctor J did… things… to make me as strong as I am. It certainly does not make me superior.”

 

A sad expression flitted across Duo's face. “I know, Heero. That shit that Doctor J did to you was just… wrong. I'm sorry that happened to you.” In a quick mood change, he winked at me and grinned. “Still, it's hard not to feel like a wimp when you take my four hundred pounds and double it.”

 

I grunted in understanding. “After we're done with the weights, you can show me how to wiggle out of every pin I have you in. That should make you feel better.”

 

Duo laughed and his face lit up. “You're right. That would make me feel better!”

 

Still smiling brightly, Duo went about doubling the weights. I picked up the bar and began to pump it up and down slowly. The truth was that he could have added six hundred pounds and I would have had no problem. But eight hundred pounds would give me an adequate workout, and there was no need to make him feel any worse about pressing only four hundred.

 

When I finished, Duo helped me guide the bar back to its resting place. I stood and helped him put the weights back on their racks.

 

When we were done cleaning up the bench press, we headed back to the sparring mat and Duo tried to show me how he was able to continually escape my pins. It involved him making himself smaller somehow, and then fluidly twisting at the right moment. We reversed our positions and I tried to emulate what he had done. I understood the twisting, although I was not nearly so fluid when I tried to do it. It was the making myself smaller that I simply could not master.

 

After about ten minutes of trying, I grunted and said, “Enough.” Duo helped me to my feet with a smirk.

 

“Sorry, Yuy, guess it's just one of those other innate talents.”

 

“You seem to have a lot of those.”

 

“I do, don't I?”

 

Duo sauntered off to the locker room while I spent a few minutes stretching my muscles. By the time I entered the locker room, Duo had apparently already chosen one of the tiny stalls, as steam and baritone humming emitted from it. I chose a stall of my own, and then showered and dressed again. When I exited the locker room, I was surprised to find Duo standing against the wall waiting for me.

 

He smiled and then fell into step beside me. “I really enjoyed this Heero. Would you mind making it a regular thing? Like maybe once or twice a week?”

 

I stopped in surprise, then forced myself to continue walking toward the parking garage. “I would be happy to…. But you said that you normally spar with Trowa. Won't he mind me taking his place?”

 

Duo frowned thoughtfully. “I don't think so. I think he mostly does it to humor me, but I'll check with him.” Duo looked at me and grinned. “Maybe we can share you. It wouldn't hurt Trowa to get some experience with a different style of opponent.”

 

I nodded. “Let me know what you decide. Since Une reduced my hours, I have only been working three days a week, so give me some advance warning so that I can adjust my schedule.”

 

“Sure thing.” We walked in companionable silence for several minutes. When we were only a hundred feet or so from the door to the parking garage, Duo spoke again. “Mentioning schedules, what are you doing tomorrow?”

 

“I meet with Une at ten in the morning. After that, I have nothing planned.” Which technically was untrue. I planned to go home and work on my hacking project. I just was not ready to discuss it with anyone, including Duo.

 

“Do you want to come over in the evening, visit with the furballs, eat dinner, and maybe play some games?”

 

I frowned in confusion. “Are we having another pilot get-together so soon?”

 

Duo ducked his head and I could see a blush fighting its way up his skin. “No, they're not. But I could invite them if you wanted to get together with everyone.”

 

I immediately felt bad. I stopped a few feet before the door and tentatively put a hand on Duo's arm. “I would be happy to spend time just with you. No one has ever asked me to do something like that before, and I am sorry that I came to an incorrect conclusion regarding your invitation.” As I spoke, part of my brain noted that Duo's skin was warm and soft underneath my hand. I felt a surge of that same uncomfortable feeling again. As I removed my hand, he turned and looked into my eyes.

 

As Duo spoke, he smiled reassuringly. “It's okay, Heero. It's just…” His eyes slid away from mine and the smile disappeared altogether. “I know you're upset with Une for making you cut back on your hours. But….” His eyes returned to mine and his expression was very serious. “I've missed you. I thought we were friends, you know, during the war. And now, we have peace, but it's like you're gone. Heero, do you know the last time I saw you before Une cut back on your hours?”

 

I shook my head numbly.

 

“Eight months ago at the Preventers holiday party. And I think that was only because Une ordered you to go.”

 

I had not realized that it had been that long, but I had no reason to doubt what Duo said. And he was right that I had only attended because Une had ordered me to go. “I am sorry. I did not realize that it had been that long. I ... know that I have not been a very good friend to you or anyone else. It is going to be different from now on, regardless of my hours at work.”

 

Duo stepped forward and put his arms around me. He was warm and smelled nice, like cinnamon and oranges or some other fruit. He stepped back before I had a chance to bring my arms up in return. “I'm glad to hear it. I'm going to hold you to that, Heero.” His expression brightened. “So tomorrow night works for you? Say around six?”

 

I smiled at him. “Sure, I'll be there. Should I bring anything?”

 

He waved a hand at me. “Nah, I'll take care of everything. You just show up.”

 

* * *

 

I was eager to get home and check on my computer programs, but I stopped at a pet store on my way. After all, Duo had said that I did not need to bring anything, but his cats might feel differently. Once I reached the aisle that held cat treats and toys, I froze. Who knew so many different things could be made just for them to eat and bat around?

 

I ended up selecting a package of unnaturally colored “mice” stuffed with catnip, as well as a bag of tuna-flavored treats. I hoped that Duo's cats were normal enough to like fish and catnip.

 

Once home, I set the treats aside and went straight to my computer. I was not surprised to learn that my tracing programs had failed utterly. The IP address was mirrored and bounced in so many different directions that there was nothing to find. I had better luck with the program that was set to rip apart the code holding the site together.

 

It had done what it was supposed to, inasmuch as it had managed to take the code from the site and store it in a file on my computer. But when I opened it, I was dismayed to find that it was more than it had appeared to be on the surface. Quite simply, someone had filled in the site's code with line after line of possibly useless information. Or possibly useful. It was impossible to tell without further examination.

 

I sat back and contemplated my options. I could try just skimming through the code myself and see if anything odd jumped out at me. But given its length, that would take a long time - too much time. I ultimately decided to write a small program that would carefully parse through the code looking for anything that might be (or be hiding) an executable file or some other program. From what the hacker had said, I was probably looking for an executable.

 

Within thirty minutes, I had written a program that I believed would do the job. I set it to work on the code while I went to get my origami paper and the presents for Duo's cats.

 

An hour and a half later, two things had been accomplished. First, I had managed to create an origami mouse out of silver and gray paper that was large enough to hold the catnip mice and the bag of treats. It would do as packaging. Second, my computer had finished running… and had found three thousand different objects that had the potential to be executable files. Three thousand? It was better than trying to look through all the code, but still. On a hunch I searched the narrowed code for the word “below.” The hacker had claimed that the program could be found below.

 

Nothing was found matching the word “below.”

 

I stood up and paced while I thought. I thought back to what I knew about the hacker. He had an interest in pre-colony things, including obsolete computer languages. I had my program look for “below” in binary, but nothing was found that way either.

 

Then something niggled at the back of my mind, a voice singing the word “below.” “Tap in the code, I'll reach you below - No one should brave the underworld alone.” It had been from that pre-colong hacking song, “Hello.”

 

I first tried running my program with the word “hello,” but nothing came back. “Underworld,” “code,” and “brave” were similarly fruitless. Then something occurred to me, something that was undeniably a long shot. The line “tap in the code” made me think of typing on a keyboard, but there was another meaning to the words.

 

Before everyone was typing away on electronic keyboards, one popular method of communication was something called a telegraph - and the language used for the telegraph was Morse code, which was tapped out by the person sending the message.

 

Excitedly, I searched for “telegraph.” I swore when my computer returned with zero results about thirty seconds later. Then I tried “Morse.”

 

Thirty seconds later, my computer returned one positive hit - a file named “0110011101100111Morse0110011101100111.exe.” I stared at it for a while, contemplating how to proceed. My logical leap that had led to the file was a long shot, at best. If I ran this file, it might be the correct file - or it might overwrite my hard drive. In fact, I was willing to bet that running any file other than the correct one would have disastrous results.

 

I ran the file through every program I had that might detect malicious code. I was unsurprised when the programs found nothing malicious in the program.

 

Deciding that I had only my hard drive to lose, I ran the file.