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"Easy.. Easy does it, Maxwell... BINGO!"
After a few minutes of self coaching, as living alone for a decade had led to a stronger habit of talking to himself, Duo had successfully landed the vessel on the artificial landscape outskirts of the L3 colony.
Piloting a ship really was like riding a bike- sure, there had been a shaky lift-off -- with three crushed civilian SUVs to prove it -- But in the end, he'd managed to remember just what all the shiny red, white, silver, and green buttons on the control panel did -- not counting that blue one he'd pushed; how was he to have known that it would make the sirens on top of the unit start flashing and wailing?
Standing up, and giving a faint wince and grunt as he pressed his back, sighing when it gave more than a few loud cracks, he had to concede that he wasn't used to sitting in a pilot seat for extended periods of time anymore.
No matter. He'd be accustomed to it once more, after this mission was through.
Making sure his gun was secure and out of place, he opened the hatch and climbed out, booted feet sinking in and leaving indentations in the damp soil as he started his trek toward the circus tents in the distance. It looked like L3 was in the middle of it's rainy season. Though the sunlight shown through enough to make it a bright day, it wasn't strong enough to provide any real warmth, and gray clouds loomed on the edge of everything, as though just waiting to make an appearance and start another downpour.
Duo severely hoped the weather would hold until he got Trowa back on the ship. Rain always made his arthritis act up.
After about fifteen minutes, two sweat-drenched handkerchiefs, and a barrel full of bad-words later, he wondered whether L3 had been expanded, and he had missed the memo. Back in his day, the walk from the ship to the circus would have only taken about ten minutes, five if he was jogging...
For some reason, he was only halfway there, and already aching in all the worst places.
Groaning and slouching his way along, his stomach soon joining in and growling with hunger -- he knew he should have stopped at that fast-food joint before taking off -- somehow the older pilot made it to his destination.
Plunking down on an overturned bucket so as to catch his breath, he began mopping once more at his sweaty forehead and all the way down to his neck, curiously surveying the grounds.
Everything looked the same. It was comforting, in a way, to see the same tents that had been up since his younger days and first trip to the circus. Sure, the tarps were fraying along the edges, had been bleached lighter in the sunlight, and were now sporting a multitude of large patches over areas where the material had likely torn, but hell, it was nice to see that some things didn't change!
Smiling absently to himself and starting to stare off into nowhere in particular, he was about to indulge in another one of his favorite flashbacks, but was interrupted.
"Duo? Duo Maxwell? Is that you?" a woman's voice called from behind him, still strong and firm but sounding with the undeniable reverberant of one up there in her years.
Craning his neck to flash a look over his shoulder, his stubbly face broke out into a large grin as he recognized the speaker. "Catherine! Long time no see, eh?" He shuffled a bit, twisting enough on the bucket so that he now faced the knife-thrower, and could get a good look at her.
And she looked.. well. Incredibly well, actually; it had to be the physical lifestyle she led, or maybe it was the constant fresh air and sun. Or maybe it was good genes. Either way, Ms. Bloom looked positively wonderful! Though her wavy, chestnut hair didn't appear quite as full or bouncy -- then again, it was hard to tell as it was pulled up in a loose bun -- and the laugh lines around her eyes and mouth were somewhat more pronounced, she looked almost exactly as he remembered her.
Catherine seemed to feel quite differently about Duo, however. Her eyes widened as she took in the round figure he cut in his stained, blue overalls. "Wow, you've.. um.. changed."
Duo frowned, deciding that her good looks must have been the work of skilled plastic surgeon.
"What are you doing here?" she asked after another moment of staring and mouthing the word wow.
"Came to see Trowa, actually. He here?" the braided man asked quickly, and trying not to grow too annoyed with the way she was eye-balling him.
Her eyes darkened considerably, and she crossed her arms over her narrow chest, for a brief moment resembling Trowa so much that Duo had to blink to dispel the image. "No. He's not."
"What? What do you mean, he's not--"
"He left the circus about five years ago. I haven't heard from him since. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got floors to sweep and costumes to mend," she snapped, stalking off through the nearest flap in the tent.
What was it with women? Sure, Catherine had never particularly shown any great deal of friendliness toward Duo, but that was plain rude! Maybe all women turned into sour after a certain age.. Or maybe Catherine had been hanging out with Une these past years.. Yeah...
Pondering the dilemma he now faced -- how the hell was he going to track down Trowa? -- he was so absorbed that he almost didn't notice the sound of a man singing a song obviously intended for a five year old girl, as was apparent by the off-key, high-pitched notes and the fact that the lyrics dealt with rainbows, butterflies, and tea parties.
Before Duo could force himself up to investigate, the source of the disturbance came skipping into view.
And it was all the former 02 Gundam pilot could do not to fall off his bucket.
The slender man was wearing a creamy, pink sun-dress, complete with a matching, white apron decorated with an embroidery of strawberries around the trim, the hem of the ensemble ending around the middle of his thigh. White, lacy knee-highs covered his thin calves, and pair of large, black, maryjane clad his skipping feet. Though his eyes were screwed up tight, and his mouth opened wide as he struggled to sing his song--
"And Mrs. Rabbit passed the jam and Mr. Sun smiled yellow-yellow happy!"
There was no mistaking who this was, or the cinnamon, one time uni-bang that was now pulled to the middle of his forehead and tied in place by a ribbon that matched the dress he wore.
"Trowa?" Duo rasped out, his eyes seconds away from tumbling out of their sockets, he'd opened them so widely.
The cross-dressed man stopped mid-bounce, arms flailing out at his sides, though he easily maintained balance on one foot, green eyes blinking slowly; it appeared that he too, had either good genes or an incredible plastic surgeon; he looked even better than Catherine! "I'm not Trowa. My name's Tracey." Thankfully, he spoke in his normal voice- it seemed he only sung in a falsetto.
This didn't do much to relieve Duo of his stress. He groaned, head falling into his calloused hands as he took a few deep breaths, trying to think this one out.
Catherine had to have.. Done something, whether it be intentional or accidental, to have caused this--
Trowa was currently spinning in circles, staring up at the sky, and had started a new song
Which would explain her lying about Trowa's whereabouts--
"If all the raindrops were lemon-drops and gumdrops! Oh, what a rain that would be!"
And this definitely changed things. It wasn't a matter of persuading Trowa to undertake this mission to rescue Heero--
"Standing outside, with my mouth open wide! Ah, ah-ah-ah, ah-ah-ah, ah-ah-ah!"
This was a matter of getting one of his best buddies the hell away from a woman who would teach him such earsplitting songs, and put him in such a god awful dress --Trowa's complexion was much more suited for a pale lavender, after all.
"Er.. Trowa? I mean, Tracey?" Duo amended quickly, catching the pout and pointed look the man shot him at the slip.
"Yes, mister?"
"Why don't you come on a walk with me? I can show you my cool space-ship," he offered in overly-friendly tones, thoroughly weirded out by the entire situation.
"M'not s'posed to go anywhere with strangers," Trowa said quietly, fidgeting and wringing his hands.
"Uh... I've got.. Uh..." Duo patted down his overalls, finally producing a melty packet of chocolaty goodies from one of the pockets. "I've got candy!" he said, wiggling the bag in the air.
"M'not s'posed to take candy from strangers, either."
Sighing, he put the bag back in his pocket for later, taking off his black cap and stratching at his graying locks. Different tactics were needed.
"Barton! Chest out and eyes forward! This is no time for singing and dancing! We've got a mission to carry out, so stand at attention!" Duo barked out, slamming his hat back on his head and doing his best to act as he was fairly certain Chang Wufei would in this situation.
It really was a stroke of genius- honestly, Duo wondered why he hadn't ever tried to act more like Wufei in the past. The Chinese man always seemed to know how to take control of the situation, and cow people into obeying his orders.
There was just one tiny problem with the entire equation. Trowa Barton wasn't a cadet who needed to be reprimanded or bullied into order. Trowa Barton was under the impression that he was little Tracey Barton, resident songstress and finger-painter of the L3 circus.
And little girls didn't like being yelled at.
Trowa stood perfectly still for about two seconds, before his eyes welled up with tears, and his lower lip began to quiver.
"Oh. Fuck." Duo paled.
Just as he was sure his friend was going to burst out in loud, noisy bawls, Duo moved forward with more speed than many would attribute his round form, scooped up Trowa like a hunk of scrap metal, and slung him over a shoulder before taking off full speed in the direction of his ship
Catherine yelled obscenities at the fast departing pilot, Duo huffed, puffed, and looked close to cardiac-arrest, and Trowa sobbed pitifully into Duo's braid.
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Can't believe I actually updated this one.. I'm not even suffering writers block. Very strange. Oh well! I hope this made you laugh, or at least snicker.
Reviews are loved.
Cheers!
- Zangai