Author's note: Well, if you haven't already guessed, this is the sequel to 'A Night to Remember', which I guess you'd have to read first to understand what's going on. A fairly short first chapter but there'll be more to come. And lastly, Dyna this one's for you!

Warnings: Shounen-ai, 1x2, 3x4, bad language.

A Night to Remember – What Happened Next.

Chapter 1

Wufei's POV

Let's see; what are some of a best man's duties? A best man should:

A. Toast the bride and bridegroom and wish them every happiness in their new life together.

B. Tell hilarious stories about the bridegroom's bachelor years.

C. Generally be a tower of strength for the bridegroom as he anxiously prepares to make the biggest commitment of his life.

One thing the best man should absolutely not do under any circumstances is lose the bridegroom on his bachelor night. No prizes for guessing then which of the above I've managed to do.

As soon as Heero handed me his list and said he was off to complete three more of his tasks, I thought he looked a little strange. He'd been really quiet since we'd left the last bar and even the acts at the comedy club hadn't seemed to raise his spirits any. I thought maybe he was getting a little nervous about his forthcoming nuptials so I offered him a few words of advice and that's when he upped and left. Marriage is a pretty big step anyway without the added pressure of marrying the one time Queen of the World. Relena can't be an easy person to live with at the best of times. Don't get me wrong; her intentions are always good but she can be a little overbearing at times. Did I say a little? I meant a lot. Her constant demands would try the patience of a saint, but at least Heero's training is still being put to good use.

When I realised that Heero was actually leaving the club I made after him, but got trapped at the bottom of the stairs as a large group of men descended for the next show. When I eventually reached the door, Heero was nowhere to be seen. By then, the streets were starting to empty a little as people finished touring the pubs and went to a club for the remainder of the night, so it was easy to see that Heero had simply vanished.

So here I am; on a bachelor night now minus the bachelor. I retrace my steps back into the comedy club and find Trowa and Quatre holding drinks and wearing mirrored expressions of puzzlement.

"Where've you been?" Quatre asks as I head over to our now empty seats. "And where's Heero?"

"Good question," I mutter with a shrug, looking at them both. "He's gone."

"Gone where?" Trowa says, their perplexed expressions changing into matching frowns.

"I don't know," I reply, running a hand across my hair in exasperation. "He just got up and left."

Quatre sets the drinks down and pauses thoughtfully. "Did he say anything before he left?" he asks, "Anything that might tell us where he's gone?"

I get the list out of my pocket and tell them exactly, word for word, what Heero said to me just before he left in the hope that it would make more sense to them. Evidently not though, as their frowns deepen.

"Well he was acting a little weird before," Trowa suggests, "Maybe he just needed a bit of air."

"I've checked outside," I say, "but I couldn't find him."

"Why don't we ring his cell phone?" Quatre says suddenly, brightening at the thought of a solution.

I nod in agreement as I find my own phone in my pocket, speed dialling Heero's number before I've even put the device to my ear. Trowa and Quatre watch expectantly before I deliver the bad news. "It's switched off," I complain, knowing that takes us straight back to square one.

"Do you think we should go and look for him?" Quatre asks looking at Trowa and I dubiously.

I contemplate this for a moment before I shake my head resolutely. "London's a big place," I say, "And if Heero doesn't want to be found then I don't think we've got any chance of locating him."

Quatre and Trowa exchange glances before they both nod reluctantly. "You're right, Wufei," Quatre says, glancing back to the exit in the hope that Heero will appear. "I guess we should stay here and wait for him to come back."

We're just about to sit down as my phone rings. I snatch it out of my pocket and answer it without checking the display, presuming it will be Heero.

"Wufei?" a voice says and my heart does a huge lurch as I realise it's Relena. "Can I speak to Heero? His phone's switched off."

She sounds annoyed, although not half as annoyed as she will be when she finds out that we've lost him. The panic on my face has obviously alerted Quatre and Trowa that it isn't Heero and I'm sure they've guessed the identity of the caller as I stammer, "He's… er he's gone to the bathroom. pause No we haven't done anything nasty to him, Relena, honestly. pause Can I give him a message? pause Call you back? Okay I'll tell him. Yeah… bye."

I shut the phone off, holding it as if I expect it to bite me. "Great," I mutter. "Now what do we do?"

"Not sure, but I'd switch your phone off if I were you," Trowa says, and I watch as Quatre finds his own phone and does just that so she can't ring him either.

"She's gonna go nuts," I say, doubting that current technology would be able to measure her reaction when she finds out that we're all suddenly unobtainable. I frown when I realise that the others are trying not to laugh. "Listen, you've just not lost the former queen of the world's husband-to-be," I say crossly, folding my arms across my chest and glaring at them both disapprovingly. "I hope you'll intervene when she's threatening to have my head cut off with a blunt spoon."

Trowa and Quatre nod sincerely as we take our seats for the start of the next act, our eyes flicking back to the door every few seconds to see if Heero has come back.

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

At that precise moment, Heero had no intention of returning for the rest of the show. He regretted that he had just abandoned his friends, knowing they would be worrying about him by now, but he couldn't delay what he was about to do. He had to let Duo know how he felt, whatever the outcome may be. He knew he deserved Duo's rejection should the other man not want to resume their relationship, but he had to at least try. The small matter of his impending marriage suddenly paled into comparison at the thought of trying to win Duo back.

Heero had a mission.

He reached Leicester Square and crossed the plaza to where Chiquitos was, his heart sinking with every step as he realised the place was in near darkness. The main doors were now closed and, as he drew near, he could just about make out a couple of members of staff cleaning glasses and sweeping the floor as he peered in through the front window. Neither was Duo. He gazed through the window for a moment longer, trying to decide what to do next before the sound of a door opening and voices speaking distracted him.

"See you tomorrow, Cas," he heard a male voice say from down the alley that ran parallel to the building. As the figure emerged from the shadows, Heero realised that although it wasn't Duo, the face was still familiar. Suddenly it dawned on him; it was Duo's friend, the blond man that had served him earlier that evening.

"Oh, it's you," the blond said as he emerged from the alleyway to be confronted by Heero. "What d'you want?"

"I need to speak to Duo. Is he in there?" Heero asked, gesturing to the darkened building with an air of calmness that belied his desire to push the other man against the wall and threaten the information out of him. He'd had to learn that this was no longer appropriate now the war had ended and it still bugged him to hell that the verbal route usually took longer and didn't always yield the desired results.

"He's not here," Greg replied in his soft Australian accent. "He left already."

Heero sighed deeply, drawing a long breath in through his nose. He had to see Duo tonight; his flight was mid morning tomorrow and he couldn't leave without an answer either way.

"Can you tell me where he lives?" he asked, certain that Duo would have told the blond about their history and he would say no out of spite.

Greg processed this request quickly, unsure what to do for the best. Normally he wouldn't dream of giving out a friend's address, but he had been there when Duo had emerged from the back room after Heero had gone, looking completely downcast and suspiciously glassy-eyed. Despite what Duo had said, it was impossible to miss the intense attraction the two men had for each other.

Seeing the other man's hesitation, Heero spoke quickly. "I need to see him and tell him how much I love him. I made a mistake, I know that and I have to try and make amends. If Duo doesn't want me back then fine; I won't like it but I'll have to get over it. At least give him the chance to make his mind up for himself."

Ignoring any remaining doubts, Greg nodded as he hunted for a pen and paper before scribbling down the address. "Here," he said, handing Heero the information he wanted so badly. "But if Duo's mad that I gave it to you, I'm gonna tell him you threatened me."

Heero managed a slight smile. "Thanks," he said, his expression bearing the hallmarks of his gratitude. As he started to walk away, Greg shouted, "Good luck", before he started walking in the opposite direction.

When he was alone, Heero studied the address Greg had given him. Not being familiar with London, the information meant little to him and so he decided to head back to the nearest underground station to seek help there. As midnight approached so did the cooler weather and Heero soon found himself wishing that he'd brought a coat with him. A guard at the tube station told him which trains he needed to catch and soon he was on the right line and heading towards the area of the city where Duo lived.

At that time of night, the trains were fairly empty and Heero rode mainly on his own until a large group of young men got on several stops before he was due to disembark. His soldier's instinct told him to be wary; the group seemed to be taking an unusual amount of interest in the smartly dressed stranger heading towards a not so smart area of town. He hoped it was nothing more than paranoia; an irrational reaction brought on by years of living as a wanted man, but his suspicions seemed to be well placed as he stood to get off and the group did the same.

As soon as the doors were open, Heero hurried onto the platform, trying to find a more populated area which would hopefully put the gang off from trying anything, but his destination was as deserted as the location he had just come from. It was only a matter of minutes before a voice shouted from behind him, "Are you gonna give us your money or not?"

"Not," Heero replied, spinning and facing the youths with a confidence that seemed to contradict his slight build and small stature.

The gang exchanged smirks as they started to flex their muscles, sensing the impending fight. "Is this guy fuckin' stupid or what?" one of the youths asked as his friends sniggered and sized Heero up, hoping that he was carrying plenty of money with him.

One of the mob; a large meaty looking young man with a scar across one cheek was first to step forward, evidently wanting to dispose of the Japanese man by himself and impress his friends with his physical prowess and cruelness. With surprising speed considering the size of his frame, the youth lunged forward aiming to catch Heero with a punch to the face.

However the Japanese man was quicker; ducking the blow and landing one of his own in the youth's stomach. Swiftly following it up with a knee to the head as the thug was bent double nursing his airless lungs, the gang was momentarily stunned by how the seemingly inoffensive Asian man had felled their leader. They remained fixed to the spot until the injured man, still clutching his stomach, growled, "What the fuck are you doing? Get him!"

They came at him all at once; raining blows upon him, which he either avoided or counteracted until the heap of injured youths grew larger. When there were only two left standing, Heero thought they were going to give up until one suddenly charged at him, almost catching him off guard. The youth was easily felled as he rushed at him with a clumsy punch but Heero realised too late that the attack had been a ruse to cover the other young man, who had suddenly produced a switchblade, which he lunged forward with and jammed into Heero's unprotected stomach.

The Japanese man let out a cry of surprise as he stumbled backwards, clutching the wound, which gushed red between his fingers. Instantly, the beaten youths were back on their feet; punching and kicking him with a viciousness that indicated that they didn't care whether he lived or died.

For several long moments Heero lay still, tucked into the foetal position to minimise the damage as the blows rained down on him. His consciousness was waning when he heard one of the youths say, "Come on, let's get out of here," and the pummelling suddenly ceased. When he was sure they were gone, helping their injured friends from the scene of the crime in case someone had heard the scuffle and called the police, Heero gingerly tried to pull himself into a sitting position to assess his situation. One eye was swollen shut, the orb stinging badly as blood ran into it from a scalp wound, making it difficult to see how badly the rest of his body had faired, but judging by the amount of pain he was in, the youths had done him some serious damage.

His shirt was ripped all over, the front of it stained heavily with blood from the knife wound in his stomach. The fingers on his left hand felt broken; not surprising since one of the men had jumped on his hand before he had managed to curl up into a protective ball to limit the damage they intended to do to him. With his one good hand, he reached into his pocket for his cell phone, knowing he needed urgent medical help to stop the bleeding, but found the device smashed up and useless, no doubt from being on the receiving end of one of the gang's booted assaults. There was no one around to help, so Heero decided to do the only thing he could think of: find Duo.

As he reached the end of the street, limping badly from his injuries, he was relieved to see that the road name matched the one on the scrap of paper Greg the barman had given him. Despite his pain, his heart lifted; Duo's flat wasn't far away. He stumbled down the poorly lit road, squinting through his one good eye to see the house numbers until he came upon the old Victorian dwelling, converted into flats, where Greg had said Duo now lived.

As he found the intercom, there was no name next to the apartment number Duo was supposedly living at. That didn't surprise Heero; after all, so long at war it was easy to see why old habits died hard. Revealing your whereabouts spelt danger; something the five pilots had seen enough of to last them a lifetime. Irrespective of the fact that the owner's name was not indicated at the entrance, Heero pressed the intercom buzzer, cringing as his bloodstained fingers painted the plastic button a deep shade of red. It took a moment before the device flared into life and Duo's voice crackled into the night's sky.

"Hello?" he said, the tone of his voice indicating that he hadn't been expecting any callers at this hour.

"Duo? It's me, Heero," the Asian man said, his voice rasping with pain. "I need to see you."

"Heero? How did you find out where I lived?" Duo said, his frown transmitting through the airwaves.

"I… I…" But the sentence never found its conclusion as Heero swayed and, wearied by blood loss, collapsed to the floor in a large crimson-stained heap.

TBC…