1:

Sunlight. Warmth. He spent so much of his time without both these days, all he found himself wanting when he had a moment to himself was to lie in it and have it sink in. Sink all the way to his cold bones and try to warm up the core, which seemed horribly absent of late.

"Kid!" Honestly? That was getting tiring.

"Howard? I am not fifteen fucking years old anymore!" He had a name, and he wished they would use it. Not because he disliked Kid, but because if they didn't use it he was starting to worry he might forget what it was.

"Uhuh...got another gig, but uh...she's a doozy."

Sighing, Duo switched off the intercom and forced himself up. He didn't look at the way the sun hit the deck, or the little rainbows it created when it bounced off the water he'd sloughed to drain the oil, leaving a slick of multicoloured magic because he couldn't afford the distraction. Rainbows were for innocent people.

The Sweepers had boomed since the war, but it was the same hardworking Crew of would be pirates it had always been. It had been a logical place to go after everything ended and the dust settled. Not that there had been a whole lot of dust, things had pretty much gone as Duo had expected them to.

Quatre was off buying half the universe, Trowa was traipsing along on his heels like a damn puppy, ever since that threesome mess that had gone on with Wufei, throwing the occasional knife at whatever idiot thought it would be a good idea to try to kill Mr Winner, and Heero had taken to the job of political bodyguard after that first ridiculous attempt on Miss Dorlian's life. Which had left Duo...being Kid. Oh, and there was Wufei, but he'd had that stint with Preventers that went sour and the threesome mess, and he'd lain so low ever since even Duo had given up looking for him, so whatever. The point of his reality was he was alone, and the only people he spoke to on a regular basis were Sweepers, which meant all he ever got to talk about was sex, his lack of it, and metal. Which really, was most guys' dream but he'd tired of it pretty damn quickly.

The problem was, he didn't feel like changing it. His life sucked, was boring as hell, and there was absolutely no inclination whatsoever to do anything about it. It wasn't like the world needed saving, so why should he get off his ass in the morning? He didn't even need the money anymore, he'd done so many outlandish jobs for Howard over the last few years and spent so little of it his bank accounts were starting to rival Quatre's for zeros.

"You moping again?" Howard muttered as soon as he entered their briefing room and Duo just smirked, going no faster as he slowly sank into the chair opposite Howard's desk and performed his usual slump routine. It was a well practiced thing, with a leg outstretched under the desk and the other draped just so over the arm of the chair, and then his back had to curve just so into the worn seat back so he could drape his arm over the shoulder so when it hung his fingertips were right by the end of his braid and his other hand was still free to pick up the paperwork, and toss it heroically back on the desk when he felt like it.

"Are you comfortable?" Was all Howard said, glaring a little. He'd been getting increasingly peeved in his old age, but Duo knew he still cared. A little too much, in Duo's opinion. Caring like that would only get him hurt, in the long run.

"What's the gig?" Not a mission, he didn't have those anymore. Not even a job, because he didn't need one of those. Just a gig. Something to do to while away the time, because there was nothing better to do.

The folder Howard dropped on the table between them was larger than it should have been. As if Howard had done a lot of research into whatever this was. It had a government seal on it, as well, and Duo really hated those. Worse, when he opened it the letter on the top had Relena's signature on it and that just sucked. Doozy didn't begin to cover the things that had her seal of approval. Because when the government asked pirates for help, it meant everything else had failed.

"If I have to read all this, it's just going to take me that much longer to say yes," he pointed out, because he could not be bothered to read all that. How much of it was even necessary? That was a ridiculous amount of crap when he was sure you could have said what you wanted in a sentence. Maybe two if it was really important and you needed to sign it I'm a pompous ass.

"It's a retrieval and seizure of goods order," Howard said softly, and it was only the tone of voice that kept Duo from immediately saying no. Because when the government had to seize your goods it meant you'd made something really cool and had refused to sell it to them, so they were just going to take it instead. Duo drew a line at stealing someone else's hard work in some other bastards name.

"You know I won't take those."

"This is an order, Duo. You take this job, or you're not here in the morning."

That got his attention, but didn't break his slump. It just made him angry and he glared at Howard across the table. He didn't need the gig, but he had nothing better to do. That didn't mean he was going to take ultimatums. He stood slowly, casually even. He pushed the folder back into the middle of the table and put his hands in his pockets as he headed for the door.

"I'll see you round. Maybe."

Howard didn't bother trying to say anything, and Duo wasn't hurt by his silence. Really.

Without a job, he didn't really have anywhere to go. He had a car, so he went and sat in it for a while, but he didn't even have a house to go home to. He'd always just slept on deck while he waited for the next job, and it had never been far between each. Howard had made sure he was always busy, just the way Duo liked it.

Until now. He'd never forced Duo to take a job before, that was damn weird behaviour right there. And it had seemed almost personal, as if the gig was for Howard, not the petty princess of the world. And Howard shared Duo's opinion of seizure notices. And if it required a retrieval then the guy who had what was to be seized wasn't giving it up without a fight, and Howard really disapproved of those sorts of jobs. So why was he so adamant Duo take this one?

"God fucking damn it!" He didn't care. Really. He was just a really dumb cat and curiosity was getting the better of him. Again.

Howard didn't so much as blink an eye when Duo came back in, sat back down heavily in the opposite seat and picked up the folder. After a while Howard got up and put the kettle on, just letting Duo read.

Something...moved inside of Duo. Some intangible little piece of emotion he'd thought long buried and he read slower, forced himself to digest what the piece of paper in front of him was saying. And the pages after it. So many little clues and snippets of information, meticulously sought out and out together until they formed a clear map. This wasn't Howard's work, or even some faceless government official. It was war like and specific and a lot of it was dirty, quite literally, the pages caked in grease and filth.

"You want me to retrieve a little girl."

"Well, as I understand it she's not so little anymore."

"Whatever," Duo grumbled. He still didn't get why Howard was so persistent they take the gig. It sounded like trouble. The deep shit kind. "It stinks."

"You stink. Take a shower, think it through and when your heads on straight I'll arrange a launch."

"What's the point? Going there, I'll smell like all the rest in a matter of hours anyway. If I go in smelling like roses it'll just slow me down." People wouldn't trust him, would question his presence and even after he settled into it, they would still remember and wonder why he'd been so clean when he first arrived. Clean people didn't move there.

"Fine. Pack your bag and I'll get you a ship."

Just like that. Duo grabbed the folder and moved. Fast, because that was the way he liked to move and because the faster he moved the sooner he would be on a ship. Alone.

It wasn't hard to collect his things, his bag wasn't that unpacked from his last gig. He just shoved things back in and put the folder in on top and closed it up before heading to their weapons locker and checking out a few choice pieces. Knives, because he'd need those where he was going, a laser pistol, neuro-shock taser...the essentials. He didn't question that these were the essentials in his life, the war had made him that way and he liked it staying that way.

He glared at his own reflection in the small mirror while he at least washed his face, trying to fathom what his reflection was thinking.

"This is such a dumb fucking idea," he muttered but it was done. He was going and he knew there was no changing his mind. It couldn't possibly end as badly as he suspected it was going to, right? Right.

Howard was already on the deck, a helicraft coming in to land.

"You're set to launch in an hour from the coast base by San Fran. Take care kid. The Valley's no place for mistakes."

"Stop worrying old man. You get any more wrinkles and I won't know which end is your face."

He was rewarded with a slap on his back so hard his teeth clashed together painfully, and Howard stood watching as he got on the helicraft and it took off without actually landing, sweeping him into the sky. Howard was a small speck in a great sea by the time Duo collected his thoughts enough to concentrate on where he was going. And why.

The fact of the matter was, it didn't make a whole lot of sense. That was also why it was so damn interesting. He pulled the folder out of his bag and began sifting through it again, frowning because he was certain he recognised the handwriting most of the notes were made in but couldn't place it.

It was also such an interesting mess of details that on the surface didn't seem related at all, but collectively left a trail. It wasn't the sort of thing a normal person would have been able to put together, which left a very short list of people who might have been behind it. And if they'd bothered to collect all the clues, Duo didn't understand why they hadn't gone in and retrieved the cargo themselves.

Little things, but they were interesting and each was waking him up a little more, sharpening his senses because whatever the real facts were behind all this, the person who had compiled the folder knew them and couldn't act on them. And was relying on Duo to do the legwork for them. Which was just...weird. Duo didn't even know that many people, let alone any that would ask for help. Not that he thought this constituted asking, at all, but he had friends who would probably think it was.

They got to the launch site and the helicraft set him down by the ship Howard had arranged. It was nothing fancy on the outside, but like all of Howard's craft it was what was on the inside that counted. This one had been chosen deliberately, because it looked like it would barely function on the outside. An old shell they had salvaged not long after the war had been gutted and rebuilt from the inside out, but they'd left that old shell as a tribute to whatever it had been before.

"Hello Reincarnation. Long time no see." He stroked the fought metal of the hull, amused because it really was a lovely ship inside, but there was no way in hell anyone with half a brain would look at her and want to step within. That was why she was fun. Howard usually kept her locked up for special occasions, which only made Duo all the more wary that he'd brought her out now. Though, considering the destination, her rust bucket appearance was only going to help him.

The inside was nothing like the exterior, all brand new, shining, stunningly crafted state of the art astrogear. He checked every room before the bridge, cargo bay, captains cabin, passenger cabin, kitchen, storage...bridge. Everything was stocked and stowed, all he had to do s leave so he dumped his bag in these captains cabin and went about getting ready for launch.

It wasn't a long procedure, but he liked to draw it out. Liked to do it old school, calling out random numbers and confusing the hell out of the ground crew. It wasn't his fault they didn't let you play music or sing while launching. You had to be sixty thousand miles clear of atmosphere before you could cut comms and go where would wanted. So Duo entertained himself tormenting the surface team until he reached that distance.

Then it was playtime. The music was loud and abrasive, and he locked himself in the cargo bay for several hours going through his physical training regime. He had to admit, it was hard, but he'd decided after the war to be the best, to maintain a level of professionalism only the other pilots would understand, and to be the best he had to be as strong as Heero Yuy, and make it look as effortless. So he'd put on some kilos, in hard unbending muscle and if Heero thought he could out-cardio him he had another thing coming. Duo knew he was fit. Hell, fit didn't begin to cover it. It was why he'd survived so many crazy gigs that should have seen him shredded, and he was damn proud of it.

But it was crazy, and it hurt like hell to push himself that far on a regular basis. Whenever he felt like stopping he just imagined Heero self destructing.

It was also a good way to pass time.

It was time for dinner by the time he finished and Duo showered half assed and went to heat up a plate of steak and veg. He sat on the bridge eating it, watching the stars. The sun was a distant memory, again, quite literally. But the stars were in no way a poor substitute. They surrounded him as the ship slid through the darkness, lights off deliberately, just in case anyone was stupid enough to see him and wonder what he was doing. He didn't feel like killing people today, and while he might find himself in a mood to let them go, something about the gig told him that was a bad idea.

After a while, he slept, setting a proximity alarm and slipping away into his dreams. No that he remembered them anymore.

He woke to the familiar bleating of the ship and hurriedly pulled his boots back on, striding back onto the bridge and sucking in a long breath.

Mettle Valley had earned its reputation. At its heart was a core of the remnants of L5, reassembled and patched up until it had basic life support. From there several long chains of tubing extended, each with hundreds of docking bays, ships hanging off them like leeches, some permanently others in transit. The whole thing looked like a fat, hairy rusted octopus, and was just as venomous. The Valley was a cesspool of piracy and black market trafficking that somehow masqueraded as a poor mans alley whenever anyone actually dared send troops to clean it out. After all, you couldn't get a warrant for every ship docked, when you didn't even know which ships were docked at any given time. And it wasn't hard to see a Preventers armada coming, and fly your ship away until hell had blown over.

There had been endless discussions about what to do with L5. Many thought it should be destroyed completely, others considered it a sacred site and refused to even consider touching it. He wondered if they'd actually been out to see what their sacred site really looked like. And what went on in it.

There were no docking procedures in Mettle Valley. Duo did a few laps before spotting a docking bay that looked promising and he went about attaching himself and the Reincarnation. Then he spent an hour activating the security protocols he installed in all of Howard's ships. Ones he had sent to Heero just to see if he could crack them, and when he couldn't had kept and used. Only then.

He didn't really feel like going out just yet, so he waited until he was sure people had forgotten about him docking, then snuck out. He dressed in his usual fare of torn jeans he'd owned for at least six years, so discoloured from grease and grime he doubted anyone would know what they originally looked like, and a black tshirt. At least...it was black now. He wasn't sure what colour it started life as. His watch was a two dollar thing he picked up on his last gig and he tucked his braid up under his hat, preferring people thought he had a strange shaped head than risk recognition. A gundam pilot in Mettle Valley would find out nothing. A deformed, broke hillbilly would probably get everything, and more.

He'd only spent a few days in the Valley, years ago when it had still been considered a red zone, before the government gave in and labelled it black. Meaning, banned from the empire or some shit. Duo had almost been proud of the Valley for the achievement, only he didn't really care enough to feel it. But it was impressive, nonetheless.

It had changed since then. There wasn't the sense of camaraderie he'd felt. They'd been criminals, yes, but they'd been in it together. It was darker now, each in it for himself, and some of the trades being pedaled didn't sit well with Duo at all, especially considering what he was supposed to be retrieving. Why bring a little girl here, unless you intended to sell her to the highest bidder?

He went to the gunrunners first.

"You don't have a face I recognise," was a common complaint and Duo had to admit he was new, destitute, kind of stupid. And yes, came in on that rust bucket and was pretty sure it was never leaving again. Old Duke, who Duo recognised from his previous trip to the Valley, took pity on him and gave him a job, because Duo at least proved he knew guns. Duke made sure of that, testing him on every weapon he had and then making him kill a man to prove he knew how to use it. It wasn't unusual and Duo didn't blink because everyone in the Valley was guilty. That was why they were there.

"How do you know so much about guns?"

"Grew up ground side. My daddy taught me." His father had taught him a lot of things, but shooting sure as hell hadn't been one of them. How to run, how to hide, how to push everything you felt so far down you would choke if you even tried to find it again. Sure, those lessons he taught just fine without having to be there at all. But shooting a gun, that had been a lesson from someone else entirely. And how to shoot it well from someone else again.

"Well, your Daddy knew his shit. I'll give you a run to test you out. Two days from now."

He didn't thank him. They weren't those kinds of men. It was a trial and Duo would pass it and that would be his cover. Until then he needed to keep his head down and try to remain inconspicuous. Not that hard if he'd just gone back to his ship and waited it out, but he had other things to do.

The drug traders at least we're happy to talk, too high on their own junk not to. They made jokes and Duo let them, grinning and laughing at his own expense but in the end they didn't tell him anything he didn't already know. Maybe because they weren't as high as they pretended, or maybe because they honestly didn't know.

He didn't even try to approach the counterfeit tables, having nothing to offer and no desire to get caught up in the trade. It was messy at the best of times, and required for too much contact with government bullshit. It was a desperate,stupid man that got caught up in that.

The trade he looked for was the oldest in history, the most insidious and the most prolific. Sex. He roamed the brothels, acting like any hillbilly that just got off from a long space trip and wanted a peek, and anything else he could get for as little cash as possible. It wasn't hard to act when he saw what was on offer and remembered just how long it had been since he so much as stroked himself off.

But he wasn't there for pleasure and he quickly identified the leaders, narrowing it down to three competing houses, controlling the trade. There was a sale happening in two days and Duo just grinned because wasn't that the best timing ever.

But it wasn't quite what he was looking for. The Valley didn't have any docking rules but that didn't mean it had no data, so Duo went back to the Reincarnation and spent a few hours hacking into the systems that ran Mettle Valley, finding the record of ships docking. It didn't say what the ship was, just listed the bay number and the time the event occurred but that was good enough for Duo. He printed it off and grabbed a nutrition bar before heading out to see just which ships had docked in the last three days. The list wasn't short, but it cut down his search criteria enough to make it doable.

Some of the ships were such pieces of junk Duo wanted to blow them up just to rid the world of them. They didn't deserve to be called ships, and their owners clearly didn't deserve to own them. He was pleased to see that most of the really nice ships belonged to gunrunners. He didn't want people making assumptions about the Reincarnation when it was by far the best ship in the Valley. They just didn't know it yet.

A few of the ships looked interesting and could have been what he was looking for but they lacked that bright spark of acknowledgment in his gut that usually told him he was on the right track. He wasn't sure why, but he found himself leaving a particular ship until last. There was just something about it, about where it was docked and why someone might choose to dock there. Not that there was anything wrong with that spot, Duo might have even chosen it himself, had it not already been occupied. But it was the fact he might have chosen it himself that nagged at him.

It was impossible to tell time in the Valley. The station was lit to appear like it was night all the time, and outside...well. Space was dark. End of story. But Duo guessed he'd been around a day, and his watch confirmed his suspicions. He needed to sleep, so he left the last ship for the morning, having eliminated the rest as his target, which really only left the one. Unless they'd come, dumped their cargo and left, but that wasn't likely. Not with a sale in two days time.

So he slept, because he would need his energy. If he dreamed, he couldn't recall upon waking.

He went to Old Duke first, just to make sure they were still good for tomorrow. The man just laughed and shook his head, slapping Duo hard on the back in an eerily family way.

"Never fear Daddy's Boy, you'll get your chance." He didn't see how going from Kid to Boy s a step up but sighed and nodded, waving and making his departure before they got any weird ideas about other things they could do with their Daddy's Boy. He was painfully grateful they knew just how good a shot he was. It should stop their ideas getting too crazy.

His job reestablished, Duo went about scoping out his target. As soon as he saw the ship he knew he'd guessed right. It looked shabby enough on the outside, but he knew a ship that had been scrubbed to make it look bad, and this screamed that. It wasn't a bad ship, but it was standard issue. Too standard. Deliberately standard. It was so standard Duo wanted to stand in front of it, point and laugh his ass off. He refrained, barely.

He introduced himself to the owners of a ship two docks down. Manfred Stone and his rust bucket the Jolly Jaunt. It was quite possibly the shittest ship Duo had ever set foot on, and he said as much to Manfred, who had quite possibly the crappest name. Thus their conversation went, until it divulged into a drinking match and poor Manfred found himself unconscious, locked tidily away in his bedroom and Duo sat out front, keeping an eye on the joint like a good friendly citizen.

She hadn't changed much. Taller, obviously, lean and muscled like her father had been. She'd kept her hair short, and still wore a stupid hat, but he had to admit Howard was right and she wasn't a little girl any more. She looked ridiculously good in Valley wear, tight black jeans and a checked work shirt, covered in filth and he could tell by the dirt engrained in her hands that it wasn't just for show. She actually worked that way, and seemed to enjoy it. She was comfortable here, and that didn't fit the information in the folder at all.

Curious anew, Duo spent a lot of time just observing her as she carted cargo into their cargo bay, calling out occasionally to someone else inside.

And every time a reply came floating back Duo struggled to hear it and held his breath, as if daring his hearing to be wrong when he already knew from the facts he'd been given that he was right. But it had been so long since he heard that voice, he'd forgotten what it could do to him. He'd forgotten how he feared it a little, and how everything in him seemed to want to walk into it, and be lost forever.

He spent a long time after she had left again just pulling himself together. That didn't make it any easier to get up. He staked the ship, as if it might bite and he wasn't stupid. There were surveillance cameras around the hull, placed just so and he unhooked five trip wires before he even got close to the vessel. But it was simple, basic things when you were used to thinking that way and it just made Duo smile, because he was better than this now. So much better.

He snuck in through a side hatch and got a quick layout of the ship, a model he was familiar with anyway, but he checked nothing had been moved around. Everything was where he expected, as was He.

Taller, wider in the shoulders, but still easily recognisable. He looked damn good, hair brilliantly messy and clothes torn in all the right places. His jaw was still set in that determined way that screamed I have a mission. Duo licked his lips and raised his gun, smirking when Heero spun in his chair, disbelieving that anyone could have gotten in without him knowing before recognition dawned.

"Duo!" Clearly not what he was expecting.

"Look who's been a bad, bad boy."