Goodbye LJ...

[windandwater]

This is just to make it official for those who don't know, but I'm leaving LJ completely. For the rest of this week at least. Tomorrow is the Bar Exam and it runs for three days, so don't expect to see me about at all until Thursday night. Or even until the weekend since I plan on spending Thursday after the Bar drunk and crying. No online time for me at all. *whines* It will be hard, but I know I can do it.

So, because I'm a total h0r like that, I am declaring this to be a spam post. Go ahead. Run wild! Give me fics, give me links, give me pics, just babble to your heart's content and rape my inbox so I have something to see when I finally DO come back to the wonderful world of LJ. I don't even care if you write me a drabble and post it one word at a time. XD;

Though, I've tried to make a spam post before and it failed a bit miserably, so I don't have very high expectations this time around. Feel free to prove me wrong though!

♥

Comments

Re: Spoil of War, prologue

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

A soft exclamation behind him made him snatch his head around, just in time to see someone vanish from sight out of the tent flap. Any other time, Heero would have immediately gone after the snoop, but he had his hands rather full. Instead, he caught Quatre’s eyes and indicated the departed eavesdropper with a jerk of his chin. Quatre nodded and hurried from the tent, glancing around from the entrance before dropping the flap closed and leaving Heero with Duo.

After several long minutes, Duo’s terrified shudders and his deathly grip on Heero’s shirtfront eased, and he pulled back a bit from Heero, although did not meet his eyes.

“Are you feeling better now?” Heero asked quietly, and was rewarded with a jerky nod.

“A little,” he muttered, and though his voice was hoarse, Heero was glad to hear it. He’d been momentarily afraid that Duo had lost speech again, all his careful recovery undone by Wufei’s meddling. Anger tightened his features; now was not the time, but he and Wufei needed to have a little talk. It was one thing for Wufei to disapprove of his actions; it was quite something else to go behind his executive officer’s back in this manner.

Unfortunately, Duo saw the anger on Heero’s face and misinterpreted it. “I’m s-sorry, Heero,” he stuttered, pulling away. “I tried not to... but I heard the soldiers shouting... and you weren’t here...”

“Don’t apologize,” Heero said swiftly. “I shouldn’t have left you with Quatre; I ought to have known Wufei would try something like this. I’m not angry at you, I’m just glad you’re all right. Are you?”

Duo nodded again, and twitched a hesitant smile. “Quatre’s a good guy,” he offered. “We were talking, before the -- before the soldiers showed up.”

“Yes, he is,” Heero agreed. “So is Trowa.”

“Trowa,” Duo took a breath, “startled me before, but Quatre told me about him. He sounds -- really nice.”

“He’s my friend.” Heero absently wound one lock of brown hair around his hand, and frowned at it. Duo’s fit had tangled it once again; the sheer mass of it kept getting in the way. “Right now, he’s talking to General Chang for me. For you. I don’t plan to let anyone take you out of here until you’re better.”

Duo smiled his thanks, and sighed as he laid his forehead back against Heero’s collar. “I don’t know how to thank him,” he admitted.

“Don’t worry about it.” Heero dropped the tangle and reached up to touch Duo’s shoulder reassuringly, marveling at how strangely right it felt, to have Duo in his arms. It seemed so much easier to protect him this way; for the moment, at least, he made no move to break it.

Re: Spoil of War, prologue

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

“Maxwell?” General Chang frowned, deepening the look of profound irritation on his face. “Don’t be ridiculous. Duo Maxwell has been dead for years.”

“No, sir,” Trowa corrected the older man, “he’s been missing for two years. But he isn’t missing any more.”

Wufei slapped the stylus on his desk and turned to glare at Trowa. “So a bedraggled chattel from nowhere turns up, and claims to be the God of Death, and you believe him?”

“He made no such claim,” Trowa denied, effectively suppressing his own defensive reaction. “He only said his name was Duo. I recognized him as Duo Maxwell myself.

“Colonel Yuy and I -- ” Trowa did not miss the flicker of annoyed resentment that crossed Wufei’s face when he spoke Heero’s name “ -- interrogated one of the Oz prisoners of war, who told us that Duo had been with them for two years. That’s the same amount of time that Duo Maxwell has been missing.”

Wufei frowned thoughtfully, tapping his fingers on the desk. “Can this... prisoner that you questioned substantiate your story?”

Trowa sent dark thoughts towards Heero. “No, sir. I’m afraid he’s no longer available for questioning.”

One of Wufei’s eyebrows went up, and defensively Trowa added, “But the man guarding the prisoner at the time can repeat what he told us, I’m sure.”

Wufei still did not look entirely convinced. “If, by some chance, this does happen to be Duo Maxwell, that doesn’t change matters. If anything, I need to speak with him more urgently, not less.”

Trowa fought down the urge to growl; that was not the point, and both he and Chang knew it. “That may be so, but right now he doesn’t even remember who he is. He would not be able to answer your questions yet.”

“How convenient,” Wufei said sarcastically, but then gave a weary, resigned sigh. “Fine, then. When will he be able to?”

Re: Spoil of War, prologue

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

“Maxwell?” General Chang frowned, deepening the look of profound irritation on his face. “Don’t be ridiculous. Duo Maxwell has been dead for years.”

“No, sir,” Trowa corrected the older man, “he’s been missing for two years. But he isn’t missing any more.”

Wufei slapped the stylus on his desk and turned to glare at Trowa. “So a bedraggled chattel from nowhere turns up, and claims to be the God of Death, and you believe him?”

“He made no such claim,” Trowa denied, effectively suppressing his own defensive reaction. “He only said his name was Duo. I recognized him as Duo Maxwell myself.

“Colonel Yuy and I -- ” Trowa did not miss the flicker of annoyed resentment that crossed Wufei’s face when he spoke Heero’s name “ -- interrogated one of the Oz prisoners of war, who told us that Duo had been with them for two years. That’s the same amount of time that Duo Maxwell has been missing.”

Wufei frowned thoughtfully, tapping his fingers on the desk. “Can this... prisoner that you questioned substantiate your story?”

Trowa sent dark thoughts towards Heero. “No, sir. I’m afraid he’s no longer available for questioning.”

One of Wufei’s eyebrows went up, and defensively Trowa added, “But the man guarding the prisoner at the time can repeat what he told us, I’m sure.”

Wufei still did not look entirely convinced. “If, by some chance, this does happen to be Duo Maxwell, that doesn’t change matters. If anything, I need to speak with him more urgently, not less.”

Trowa fought down the urge to growl; that was not the point, and both he and Chang knew it. “That may be so, but right now he doesn’t even remember who he is. He would not be able to answer your questions yet.”

“How convenient,” Wufei said sarcastically, but then gave a weary, resigned sigh. “Fine, then. When will he be able to?”

Re: Spoil of War, prologue

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

“He’s still recovering from his injuries,” Trowa repeated. “Not for another week at the very least -- preferably two.”

“A week!” Wufei stared. “That long? We have injured of our own, who don’t --”

“Not. Like. This,” Trowa bit out, and Wufei halted in mid-sentence, staring at the quiet, green-eyed man in astonishment.

Trowa shifted uncomfortably, aware that he had overstepped his own bounds. “I apologize, sir,” he muttered. “But I have been working among the healers for several years now, and --” He stopped when the General made an irritated gesture, cutting him off.

“Very well, you’ve made your point,” Wufei grumbled. “I will wait until Maxwell -- assuming this boy is Duo Maxwell -- regains his memories before speaking with him.”

Trowa let out a silent breath of relief. “Will that be all, sir?” he asked hopefully.

Wufei glanced over Trowa’s shoulder; a travel-stained man was standing in the tent entrance, getting his breath back as he waited for the General to be finished his conversation. “Yes, dismissed.”

Trowa beat a hasty retreat, feeling that it was best to quit while he was ahead.

Re: Spoil of War, prologue

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

“He’s still recovering from his injuries,” Trowa repeated. “Not for another week at the very least -- preferably two.”

“A week!” Wufei stared. “That long? We have injured of our own, who don’t --”

“Not. Like. This,” Trowa bit out, and Wufei halted in mid-sentence, staring at the quiet, green-eyed man in astonishment.

Trowa shifted uncomfortably, aware that he had overstepped his own bounds. “I apologize, sir,” he muttered. “But I have been working among the healers for several years now, and --” He stopped when the General made an irritated gesture, cutting him off.

“Very well, you’ve made your point,” Wufei grumbled. “I will wait until Maxwell -- assuming this boy is Duo Maxwell -- regains his memories before speaking with him.”

Trowa let out a silent breath of relief. “Will that be all, sir?” he asked hopefully.

Wufei glanced over Trowa’s shoulder; a travel-stained man was standing in the tent entrance, getting his breath back as he waited for the General to be finished his conversation. “Yes, dismissed.”

Trowa beat a hasty retreat, feeling that it was best to quit while he was ahead.

Re: Spoil of War, prologue

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

Trowa stopped by Heero’s tent, on his way back to his own quarters. Like the first night, Heero remained awake by Duo’s bedside by candlelight; this time wary of threats coming from outside, not inside. He rose to his feet at the sound outside; weary as he was, his muscles were tense and ready for action. But it was only Trowa, and though he did not smile, Heero’s relief was obvious as he nodded his friend a greeting.

“How did it go?” he asked, quietly.

Trowa shrugged, and stifled a yawn. “He listened, which surprised me, but I don’t think he believed me, which didn’t.”

Heero nodded, himself unsurprised. “That’s more than he would have done for me; he always has more patience with people he doesn’t know. How did he react?”

“It’s fairly obvious that he’s not happy with you,” Trowa warned him.

Heero growled slightly. “I could have told you that,” he muttered. Many of the duties that Heero had previously performed were properly those of the army’s commander, not the second-in-command; Wufei was now stuck with carrying them out. He knew he had no right to object, since it was not technically Heero’s job, but no doubt the older man felt resentful and put-upon. Well, that was just Wufei’s problem; he would just have to learn to deal with it without sulking.

Unfortunately, Heero realized bleakly, it wasn’t just Wufei’s problem -- he was in a position to make it Heero and Duo’s problem, as well. Heero realized that Trowa was saying something; he blinked back into focus in time to hear him say, “He agreed to wait until Duo’s memories return, but he wasn’t happy about it -- and the longer he has to wait, the less happy he’ll be.”

Heero sighed. “I suppose that’s the best I could hope for; thank you, Trowa...”

Re: Spoil of War, prologue

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

“It was no particular trouble,” Trowa denied, and glanced over Heero’s shoulder at the sleeping form barely illuminated by the candlelight. Almost automatically, Heero shifted position, to block Trowa’s view. Trowa stared for a moment, before a slight smirk worked its way onto his face.

“What?” Heero demanded in a surly tone, but Trowa just shook his head.

“Nothing,” he replied; without warning, he took his friend’s hand, placed something in the palm, and closed Heero’s fingers around it. “I’m going back to Quatre now, Heero; I’ll see you around.” With that, he dropped the canvas tent flap and turned away into the gloom, leaving Heero standing in the doorway.

With a slight frown, Heero opened his hand to the object Trowa had given him, turning back into the candlelight to see it clearly. It was a piece of string -- or rather, three thin strands of rope, tied together at their ends, and braided to halfway down the length. Heero puzzled over it for a moment, pulling the pieces of thread apart, but could see nothing special about it, so why had Trowa given it to him?

It was a mystery. Heero gave up on it for a moment, putting the half-braided string back in his pocket, and turning back to his vigil.