Authors notes: Oh My God! I'm alive ^.^ . I do apologize from depth of my heart for the very long, long, extensive break I took over the course of what, four? Five months? :P. But at last, I return to tell you that P.S I Hate You will never be a dropped story, and that I will try my utmost best not to leave for so long ever again.

Furthermore, thank you's are in order to 'anon' and 'Hikaru Itsuko' for slapping me back into action. ^.~

WARNINGS:

Gruesome!: If chapter three wasn't your fancy you have been warned.

Death: BUT DON'T WORRY, your Gundam Pilots will always survive.

Anywho lets not waste anymore time and get right into it, I had a lots of fun writing this chapter, please do review if you loved it too 3

Read. Love. Review~

Enjoy!

20th Century

Chapter Eight

Heero threw himself between Duo and the door handle and in one quick motion grabbed Duo's gun holding it above his head.

Duo stood on his tiptoes reaching for his gun, his lithe body ever so slight brushing against his lean muscular one. He felt his heart rate increase, why did Duo always so intoxicating?

"What the fuck!" Duo yelled, throwing his hands up in the air, "What the flippidy fuck!"

"Do you trust me?" Heero insisted, ignoring Duo's outburst and expertly dodging Duo's attempts to regain his gun. Duo paused, as if contemplating his answer.

"You think I don't trust you?" Duo responded, focusing on Heero's eyes in a typical Duo move, evading the question, running and hiding.

"There's-", Heero started to explain but changed his mind. He couldn't afford the distraction, his life and more importantly Duo's life was on the line.

The split second Heero paused to think was the same second Duo utilized his thievery skills, reaching around him and throwing open the bedroom door.

BOOM!

The hotel shook with the violent explosion.

Heero hurled his body onto of Duo's as a ball of flames burst through the door.

The sofa instantly caught on fire.

"You mean you couldn't just tell me there was a fucking bomb?" Duo yelled over the ensuing chaos. "I mean I like surprises just like every other guy, but God Dammit!"

"I had a bad feeling", Heero muttered, his eyes darted around the hotel room and he cursed whichever designer thought it was a good idea to put a fucking couch on the path to the door.

"Tasteful though", Duo commented over the blaze nodding towards the couch.

Damn, Duo was getting better at reading his thoughts.

They both started towards the door, then Heero suddenly halted and grabbed Duo's arm.

Duo was about to protest when the door, and path to the door instantly burst into flames with another loud BOOM!

"Timed fire bombs?" Duo commented, his eyes whipping around the room frantically searching for the next expected explosion.

"You simply have to tell me were you get these bad feelings from," Duo said quickly glancing over at Heero "I wanna shop there".

Heero shrugged, but his eyes narrowed. He didn't take his arm off of Duo's and he could feel the braided preventer shaking.

This was bad, Duo had a history with fire.

And it wasn't a good one.

"Were fine", Heero suddenly said and used a precious second to look directly into Duo's eyes. He saw some of the anticipation drain from Duo's body in a second. His heart started pounding again, Duo trusted him enough to calm down without proof.

...But it wasn't time for emotions.

"So…what are we dealing with here?" Duo suddenly spoke, substituting his nerves with his humour. "We got…some fire to the right, then directly in front of us a flaming couch, some more fire. a lovely blazing kitchen. Fire. An actively combusting door. A little more fire….Well looks like a fucking party to me. Where are the marshmallows, you'd think the psycho would at least leave us marshmallows huh Heero?"

The war was worse, Heero silently answered.

The missions are worse.

The killer clearly wanted them to survive, for whatever fucked up reason. Heero would figure it out later.

"And you'd think the fire department would be here by now", Duo mumbled. "I've ordered pizza that has come faster than this, and it wasn't even all that good pizza. And when the driver got there he said the he got lost on the way, and to top it off it was raining, and it wasn't even just lightly raining either, it was friken pouring, like buckets...Heero..."

Duo trailed off as he noticed Heero walk towards the window.

"Remember the last time you jumped out the ninth floor and broke a bone? Well this is the tenth floor." Duo commented, as if boarding another of Heero's trains of thought.

But still Heero headed for the window.

"Alright the window it is."

The hotel room was piling up with smoke now, and Heero idly questioned in his mind why the smoke detectors hadn't gone off.

This all seemed too planned. But it was logical; the killer wanted them to resort to the window, but why?

He pulled the curtain away as he felt Duo come up beside him followed by a gasp.

Heero's eyes flicked down out the window, it wasn't hard to see what caught Duo's attention. The night was full of predictable surprises.

"Rose are Red, Violet, and Blue, no matter where you go Duo, I'll always be watching you. P.S I Hate You."

"Lame", Duo uttered rolling his eyes as they both looked at the red, violet and blue partnered message.

"It does lack a certain amount of creativity", Heero muttered in agreement.

"Well", Duo shrugged, he lifted his gun and aimed it at the window. He paused for a second and lowered it.

"There's a lot of gas in here isn't there", he coughed, they used to be Gundam pilots but smoke got to everyone…eventually.

Heero felt his eyes sting slightly, he grabbed Duo's arm and pulled them both down, ignoring the tingly feeling he felt every time he touched the braided man.

"Ya know", Duo commented, reaching for the latch on the window, "you would think as responsible preventers we would have thought of this already".

"Which", Heero muttered to himself, "ducking under the smoke or opening the window?"

"Um...Heero", Duo asked, ignoring the question.

"Hn", Heero answered, slightly annoyed that Duo interrupted his analysis of the hotel room; just because Duo was going to copy his notes didn't mean he could interrupt the note taker.

No response.

"Yes", Heero stated again, turning his head to look at Duo...then the latch in his hand, then up to the window where he realised the window was welded to the wall.

They were not dying in here.

Heero stood up, pulled back his fist and punched the window, imagining it to be Une's face in a silent 'thanks' for sending them to a compromised hotel.

The window strained under impact but didn't break...and by the look on Duo's face, even he found it odd.

"What the hell?" Duo coughed in annoyance. "Did this psycho research what type of material you couldn't break?"

Ignoring him, Heero raised his fist and punched again.

He barely noticed Duo leave his side and to return seconds later with a lamp.

"What?" Duo responded to Heero's raised eyebrow. "You're absolutely right", Duo responded with sarcasm, "the flaming spoon was the correct choice!"

Heero shrugged and began punching with more force; he would be damned if Duo's fucking lamp broke the window before he did.

Duo began coughing feverishly as he took the bottom of the lamp and joined Heero in the attempt to smash the window, pausing every so often to pull the collar of his shirt over his nose and mouth in dry coughs and pants.

They were running out of time.

His punches became more frantic as smoke continued to sting his eyes and cloud his chest.

"When I catch this bastard" Duo wheezed his eyes heavy lidded. "I'ma…I'm gonna…I'm gwanna fuuck…." Then, as Duo attempted one last weak hit, he collapsed face first against the window and slid to the floor.

"Duo!" Heero barely coughed, "Duo! Stay conscious".

Please...

No answered.

"Fuck!"

Another punch.

He swore he felt a finger break, but the smoke was diming his thought pattern, making him unsure.

Another punch.

He heard the sound of cracking, he was getting closer to his objective...but how close?

He felt himself sway, his eyes felt heavier.

He lifted his fist again, ignoring the pounding, the swelling, the bleeding, and threw it at the window...

Crack!

He was unsure whether that was the window or his fist...

He threw one more weak punch into on coming darkness.

x_x

"Duo!" and annoying familiar voice yelled, snapping Heero into consciousness.

His eyes snapped open and he quickly surveyed his surroundings, he was no longer on the ground in the hotel, but on a stretcher outside. The frantic annoying voice told him that Duo was near by.

But was he alive?

"Duo!" the voice yelled again. Jackson's voice.

Fuck. If there was only one person to save the day, why the fuck did it have to be Jackson.

At this rate, Heero preferred Zechs, yes...Zechs, Miliardo fucking Peacecraft.

"Jackson?" Heero heard Duo mumbled. "Where's Hee-".

"Oh my God", Jackson started babbling; "I thought I almost lost you, and all you have to ask me is where's Heero!" Heero turned his head to the left to see Jackson standing over Duo's stretcher and took an inwards grateful sigh that at least Duo was alive.

"What did I tell you, every time you're with HIM bad shit happens!"

Heero didn't have to guess which 'HIM' Jackson was referring too. He chose to silently watch the exchange, what if Jackson was right, and that's how Duo felt...the serial killer had said as much in the first message after all.

"I mean what a fucking Douche, taking you to a burning building", Jackson continued insensitively glancing up.

Heero assumed it was at the hotel, he managed to prop himself up with his elbows and shivered as a cold breeze blow by, he looked up and could see the flames shooting out the broken window.

Mission accomplished.

"I was taking such good care of you".

"I'm not a fucking child", Duo hissed at Jackson, "I don't need protecting".

"Now, now", Jackson continued, still ignoring the violet eyes that barely had enough energy to focus on him. "I know that's just the smoke inhalation talking".

There was a pause, but Heero could imagine Jackson sweeping a lock of hair from Duo's face.

"You should have experience with it though", he continued. "Given your track record of burning shit down".

"What.", Duo hissed, Heero could imagine Duo's eyes narrowing.

"Orphanages, Churches, Bases, hotel rooms...you gotta wonder".

"What?"

You have to give the guy credit, Heero thought as he looked at the smashed window, there was one thing Jackson was better then him at…Being a complete asshole.

Jackson would make Doctor J proud.

Heero struggled to push himself off of his stretcher and shook his head.

Just how many times did he have to punch this guy in the face?

x_x

Trowa struggled to fight down the yawn, pausing to glance as Duo as he approached him. Duo? At work? Wasn't Duo involved in some sort of burning hotel incident the night before…

"Hey Trowa" Duo greeted.

"You look like shit".

"Trowa, I think that's the best thing someone has said to me all morning".

Trowa raised an eyebrow.

"You know, all I got this morning was 'Oh my God Duo, you look like you died' or 'or my God, did you die?' I even got a 'Duo, I thought you looked like you died yesterday, but today, holy shit'. But hearing a simple 'you look like shit'… quite the improvement".

Trowa paused, and then mumbled "I was trying to be nice".

Trowa looked at Duo again, then down at his watch, then back at Duo.

"I know", Duo answered the silent question, "I'm early, real shocker?"

"No", Trowa stated, "I was just wondering why your ambulance is late…"

"What?" bewilderment flowing over Duo's face.

"So you're not waiting on your ride to the hospital?" Trowa asked in sarcastic confusion.

Duo rolled his eyes. "No, I'm actually staying at work today", he stated. Trowa could tell Duo didn't think he looked that bad.

"Quatre was right; I should have just spent the day at his house".

Trowa gave Duo a small look then pretended to be uninterested.

"You should be grateful I'm a good friend" Duo summarized. As if reading Trowa's mind he continued. "Quatre's fine, his house is fine, I haven't seen what's her face maid chick recently, and if you weren't such a dick, I'm sure Quatre would have said hi".

"His text message said hi", Trowa mumbled. "Followed with a 'go fuck yourself".

Trowa raised an eyebrow and looked at Duo.

"I know eh?" Duo proclaimed, "All my idea!"

"What time is it?" Trowa asked, his deep green eyes connecting with Duo's violet ones.

"Um, around eight thirty-ish".

"Oh", Trowa shrugged taking out his phone.

"What are you doing", Duo asked a little nervously.

"Oh, just making sure I should put 'good morning' in the text message that explains what you think of Heero's ass in spandex", Trowa answered nonchalantly.

"Wait!" Duo yelled, "Fine, I won't interfere with your relationship, or lack there of, with Q bear".

Trowa sighed in agreement, putting his phone back in his pocket. "Quatre house?" He asked.

"Yeah yeah, as you know the hotel thing didn't work out. You know, I was never one for Une's selections of hotels. I was always a Holiday Inn type guy. And Quatre being the lovable guy that he is, decided to let me follow him home…to his mansion".

"Heero?"

"And Heero too, hey, you should sleep over, you know, we could have a party".

Trowa shot Duo another meaningful look.

"Oh...thats right", Duo shrugged, pretending to remember the last exchange Trowa had with Quatre.

"Well I'm off to preserve my perfect attendance record, I'll be damned if some perfect solider from L1 fucks my-".

"Fucks your what?" Trowa interrupted sarcastically, "nothing that wouldn't damn you already I hope".

Duo's only response was his middle finger.

As he walked away he called over his shoulder, "See you at Quatres house?"

Silence.

"No?"

Silence.

A laugh from Duo.

"Okay." He concluded. Trowa could imagine the smirk.

"No problem", Trowa responded knowing Duo could still hear him, "I planned to spend the evening with Heero anyways".

"Asshole" Duo hollered as he turned the corner.

x_x

As indecent as it was to swear, the only thing that could come out of Wufei's mouth this was,

"What. The. Fuck."

He replaced the mask over his mouth and turned his head away from the gruesome sight in disgust.

It was like a scene out of a horror move, only the audience in the theatre would have left during the first act.

"It looks like our serial killer has become more creative" Dorothy said a little bit too inspired.

Wufei rolled his eyes in response, as much as he hated to admit it, the serial killer did deserve a small amount credit for his latest work.

But only a small amount.

Wufei slowly turned around again this time in more preparation for the image in front of him and held his breath.

There, in the middle of the club was a thin decaying body of a woman with medium length bleach blond hair soaked half way through in dry blood, wearing nothing but a beige and white fur coat and 4 inch hot red cheetah print Gucci high heals, with her jaw removed so her tongue flopped loosely against her neck stained in blood that covered the rest of her body and pooled on the floor. Her eyes were carved out from their sockets and daggling limply by their optic nerve cord, and her mid-section was cut out and cleaned out of everything except for the skin behind the spinal cord and…

Wufei tuned away again feeling slight more dizzy and nauseous then before, everything was cleaned out except for…

"…the long intestine that has been rapped around her neck-" Dorothy added absently standing beside Wufei.

Dear God…

"-and tied to the horizontal pole that's attached to the ceiling" Dorothy finished blankly.

Steven King had finally met his match.

"It's like a master piece…." Dorothy whisper breathlessly.

Wufei snapped his head to the left giving Dorothy a dark glare. She tensed up rigidly and took a few steps back.

"Don't you have work to do?" Wufei grunted.

Dorothy shot back a glare as she 'tisked' and turned around and walked towards her forensic team at the back of the building, letting her heals click loudly in defiance.

"Whatever you say Agent Wufei" Dorothy hissed with an icy smile.

Wufei glared at Dorothy as she left and frowned uncomfortably. There was something about that girl that just didn't sit right, Wufei thought curiously.

He glanced back towards the hanging body and narrowed his eyes, but he would deal with the creepiness of DorothyCatalonia later. Right now, he had bigger and more disturbing things to worry about.

If Wufei had a weak stomach, he would have thrown up his lunch and maybe even his breakfast, or if he was Quatre, he would probably just throw up his stomach all together.

"Greed and vanity is only manageable by smarts my dear, P.S I Hate You." A low squeaky voice stated.

Wufei flinched at the sound of Agent Brown voice now beside him and noticed that Heero was there too.

When did they get here? And Yuy? Fucking work-aholic.

Wufei then followed Heero's and Agent Browns eyes and also looked at the message painted in the victim's blood on the wall behind the body and shook his head.

Who ever this serial killer was, he was seriously sick, and no amount of professional help could cure him, no matter how elaborate and expensive.

"Seems like our killer has become…creative" Agent Brown said blankly.

Funny, Dorothy said the same thing.

"He has his moments", Heero deadpanned. Wufei assumed in reference to the message left the night before.

"How long will it take to get…this down?" Wufei asked pointing towards the body.

"A few hours maybe" Dorothy answered. "Right now we are-"

"Make those minutes" Heero ordered dryly.

Wufei heard a defiant huff from Dorothy followed by shouted orders to her forensics team.

That woman had a serious problem with authority.

Wufei quickly glance over a Heero and raised his eyebrows.

"You look like shit" He said.

"Hn." Heero grunted in response.

Wufei gave a curt nod towards Heero and walked under the yellow tape.

Wufei didn't have minutes; he wanted to have a close look now.

He slowly started towards the body when he felt something scrape and break under his foot.

Glass? Wufei thought.

He put on a pair of latex gloves and bent down slowly picking up a piece of the foreign object, frowning questionably when he looked it over.

It was not glass but…

A piece of a CD'?

He then realized that the whole floor was littered with little broken pieces of CD's.

Wufei continued to proceed cautiously, holding the mask tight to face and plugging his nose, who knew that a dead body could produce a smell this fowl after barely two days.

Now standing close enough, Wufei could see the body closely; the large bruises that showed signs of a struggle. The perfect cut out around the mid-section that showed that the psycho wasn't one to create a mess by accident. The long intestine and optic nerve cord that appeared to be oddly cleaned off along with revealed spinal cord.

But that wasn't the only thing that was cleaned off.

Wufei noticed that the victims hands were thorough cleaned as well, revealing long pink fake nails.

Odd, Wufei thought as he gave the body one last once over before turning away. Why didn't the killer just break off her nails or chop of her fingers, it would have saved him the time of cleaning them off. Plus, he didn't take the time to clean the hands and nails of his other victims.

But then again, looking at what Dorothy quoted 'a master piece', and seeing the rest of the serial killers 'work' the psycho didn't just do something for visual effect.

So why her…?

"Tacky" One of the forensics team members joked examining the body, "Why couldn't the serial killer cut off the pink finger nails as well?"

"Maybe the psycho killed her because of he couldn't stand pink" the other one laughed.

"Have respect" Wufei snapped turning around and shooting both of them a glare.

"Sorry" they both mumbled and as they got back to work.

Wufei rolled his eyes and continued walking back to where Heero and Brown were standing.

However disrespectful those two ingrates were, they were had a point, fake pink long nails were tacky.

Wait a minute.

"Those nails are still tacky as hell" one of the forensics men grumbled as they both chocked on a laugh.

….Tacky.

"Like they look like claws."

Wufei whipped around, his eyes wide, his mouth dry.

"Yeah I saw one of the security guards with the exact same fake nails the other day, haven't see her in a few days though, you know, the one that's always hanging around that Jackson guy? She kind of a trashy whore?"

Oh my god.

"Ha! I know the one, your talking about…"

Agent Terry!

x_x

Trowa felt a surge of panic of as Noin's voice echoed down the corridor.

Only someone with nothing to do, and by nothing, they would have to have been dead for at least a century, completely finished the art of decomposing, and discovered all the joys of the purgatory would then talk to Noin.

And that was after weighing their options.

"Trroooowwwaaa!" He heard Noin screech.

Dear God.

"Trowa!" He heard her scream even sharper.

Shit, it...she was getting closer.

Fight or Flight?

Flight, she was a girl. He was no Wufei, but he wasn't about to disrespect a lady.

Trowa turned left, the opposite direction of where Noins voice should be coming from and...

Walked directly into her path.

"Hello Noin, how are..."

Wait he didn't want to know.

"How about them dodgers?"

Noin looked confused and blinked for a second. Great...he inspired thought. Congratulations were at hand.

"Those dodgers?" Noin questioned for a second. "Oh! You mean Catherine Dodgers, I heard she is..."

Great, should have chose fight.

And then luckily;

"Fuck you Jackson, I'm keeping it!"

"Until you get to the abortion clinic", Jackson responded, "then you have to give it all away".

"Really? Just because you didn't fight in the first war doesn't mean you have to make it up by killing babies, no less mine...and your own".

As shocking as this information should be, Trowa found it a bit overplayed.

Hilde knocked up?

Not a shocker.

Jackson sleeping around?

Also, not a shocker.

To Trowa it was a matter of simple physics, stupidity plus time.

But to Noin...

Trowa found himself being dragged down the hallway to the source of the sound.

He decided to let Noin dragged him, it was time people stopped assuming that the far hallway of the preventers building by his office was empty.

And then Noin voice rang through the hall way...

Again.

"Hilde!" Noin sang as she approached the two "Never would have thought you would volunteer your uterus for a couple of Fags."

Thank you Noin for taking us right back to the twentieth century.

"Congrat-" Noin then put her fingers to her lips.

The dear in headlights look Hilde had on her face gave it all away.

"Oh, was I wrong?" Noin said in plain fake sympathy.

Giggling brightly, Noin turned on her heel. "Oh my, what a scandal," she finished.

Trowa observed what happened next in two seconds.

Jacksons grabbing Noins arm.

Noins grabbing her gun.

Noin's gun at Jacksons head.

"You didn't think I sat around and gossiped all day did you?" She said with a sweat but poisonous smile. "Maybe if you fought both wars you would realize my importance."

"Obviously looking at your situation..." Noin then pressed the gun hard against Jackson's temple with her right hand, her voice dropping to a dangerous low. "You're not a bright one."

Ah, now there's the Noin that he remembered. He would salute her but... the situation didn't call for it.

Hilde backed away slowly.

"And where do you think you're going slut?"

Hilde turned to see Noin's left hand pointing another gun at her face.

Oh man, two out of two, Noin was on a roll.

Trowa wished he bought that video phone that was on sale. It was definitely one of those moments.

"Now Hilde," Noin began "Duo is a very dear friend of mine".

Trowa coughed softly.

"And Trowa!" Noin yelled over her shoulder rolling her eyes.

A smile crossed Jacksons face "I guess all our secrets are out then" Jackson said.

"What secret?" Noin said suspiciously, the concern flickering across her face.

"You know your boyfriend and his tendencies to express himself in hallways...sexually...especially with Wufei. I never asked, does it piss you off much?"

Noin's gun cocked back.

Hilde made a shocked "O" sound.

Trowa, no reaction.

Wufei always had a tendency to fraternize with the enemy. Old habits die hard.

"I wouldn't dare do that Noin," Jackson smirked. "This is the hall way where people tend to shove things down each others throat, just ask Agent Terry...or Zechs..." Jackson smirk grew bigger "...Or Wufei."

"Or Hilde" Trowa muttered.

Noin's grip tightened on her guns as her shocked expression turned into a hateful glare. "You don't have any proof."

"Oh, but I do, thanks to mine and Terry's special friendship, she gave me my very own copy," Jackson then raised his hand like an elementary school student "YouTube anyone?"

Noin gritted her teeth and relentlessly lowered her gun, the in flash, pistol whipped Jackson in the temple before her two gun vanished to their unknown original location.

"Ow! You fuckin' bitch!" Jackson screamed as blood trickled down the side of his head "I can't believed the fuckin' bitch hit me!"

"It was a kind of a first war thing", Trowa smirked, "you had to be there".

"What's with all the Gundam Pilots being gay," Noin mumbled under her breath as he turned away, "Zechs, Wufei, Winner, Max-"

Just when he thought Noin was back she had to go and say something stupid.

"Wait, wait, wait..." Jackson interrupted loudly. "Did I just hear WINNER! Quatre WINNER is actually gay! I was wondering what would guarantee Trowa's silence." Jackson turned to look at Trowa. "You and Wufei don't hang out enough for me to be comfortable with just one string of blackmail."

"Proof", Trowa grumbled, although he really didn't want to know how Jackson was going to make this allegation stick.

"Really?" Jackson asked, "word of mouth is the best seller. Even better when its true".

Trowa sighed and turned to walk down the hall, hearing Noin do the same.

And they say it's hard to like the guy.

TBC

x_x

Authors notes: Hope you enjoyed this chapter and remember to review, I would love to hear from you. ^.^