[fic] Code of Character: 'Heero', Part 1

[tb_ll57]

Title: Code of Character: Heero, Part 1
Author: TB_ll57
Archived: TB's LJ
Crossposted: Gundamwingyaoi, Gundam Wing, GW-Fan
Pairings: 3x2, 6x2, 1+2, 3+4, 4+R
Rating: R/NC17 in parts
Warnings: Sex, drugs, swearing, Spanish, and a little bit of time-hopping
Notes: This fic is the prequel to 'Code of Silence' (2007), but does not have to be read with this story in order to understand it. This story will follow each main character with their own section, which, due to LJ space constraints, will be more than one part per character. The character sections will NOT be chronological.
Disclaimer: Not mine; please to not sue.


'You're making a mistake,' Heero said.

'Okay.' Duo swigged his beer and put it down very precisely in the ring of condensation it had already marked on their table. 'I didn't tell you so you could go all grim pronouncement on me.'

'I don't know why you did tell me. You're not usually an idiot. It warrants pointing out.'

'Heero-' Duo sucked air into his cheeks, and blew it out slowly. 'All right. All right. Here's how we proceed. I appreciate the sentiment and I know it comes out of friendship, but this is my life. The end.'

'Your life to screw up.'

'Do I tell you how to live?'

'No, damn it.' Heero lifted his own beer, swallowing steadily, knowing already it wouldn't help. He metabolised it too quickly. Even if he didn't, he'd need far more than one light beer to erase tonight. He pushed the bottle aside in disgust. 'Forget it."

Duo pretended cheerfulness, smiling brightly. There were too many teeth. 'Already done.'

He wanted another beer. 'So am I supposed to get you a housewarming gift, then?'

'I could use new potholders.'

'Fine.'

'Heero.' Duo's smile became a more normal thing, a small curve of his lips. He patted Heero's wrist on the table. 'Chill,' he advised softly. 'Okay? It'll be good with Trowa. And if it's not, I can find the door.'

'After you're cut open and bleeding,' Heero muttered. Their waiter passed them with a wide and cautious berth, sensing trouble, and Heero dropped his hand rather than try to flag him down. Duo was tapping on his knee, a rapid rhythm of irritation, and staring off at the television over the bar. 'He's changed,' Heero said then. 'From the war. He's not who he was then. You know what he does now. For money.'

'Heero, cut it out. Okay? I listened to as much of this as I'm going to.'

Heero inhaled sharply, and held it. 'I'm finished.'

'Okay. Thank you.'

'I wish you happy. Both of you.'

'You're a good friend. The best friend. Even when you try to lie.'

'I'm not. Just let it go now.' He tried again to get the attention of their waiter, and gave up in frustration. 'I hope when you've been sleeping with him for longer than two weeks it will still be fresh and wonderful.'

Duo began to laugh. At first it still held annoyance, but soon it was only forgiving. He patted Heero's wrist again, and his touch lingered, warm like his grin. 'You're a sweetheart,' he said. 'But I won't tell anyone.'

It was impossible to stay angry. He didn't think Duo did it on purpose, but it was impossible, facing that, and Heero wanted to be angry. He would be angry, when Duo left, because when Duo left he'd be going home to pack his apartment and move across the city to live with Trowa Barton, of all people, of all idiotic impulses, and of the many stupid things he'd seen Duo do on nothing more than an impulse over their years of friendship, this ranked. But sometimes Duo could be bullied out of it and sometimes he was a stubborn damn fool and there was no reason Heero would see why he'd even been summoned out to dinner to be told this. Duo had to know that no-one would be thrilled about it. Trowa Barton.

Maybe it was possible to stay angry.

The bartender changed the channel on the television, switching to the debates. 'It's Quat,' Duo noted. 'I forgot he was on tonight. Shit. I meant to tape it.'

'They're posting the debates online.'

'That's true. It's exciting, right? Our golden boy is making good. Finally doing something with himself.' Duo caught Heero's look, and laughed again. 'I'm kidding. He's a doll, of course.'

'Of course.' The waiter had disappeared. Heero sat back in his chair, feeling it creak with his weight. On the television screen they were introducing the parties. Quatre was standing in with several Progressives to present the party platform. His introduction was quick to note-- of course-- that he'd once flown a Gundam in the name of colonial sovereignty. Duo didn't blink for it, but his fingers began to tap again, just the pointer and middle fingers.

'We can go,' Heero started to say, or wanted to say, but it never quite left his mouth. He must have made some noise, though, because Duo tore his eyes from the screen. He pushed his beer at Heero. Heero sipped from it, and returned it carefully to the table.

'He looks good.' Duo looped a loose lock of hair behind his ear. 'Smart. Some politicians just look dumber than a doornail, you know. I love listening to Quat talk. He doesn't talk down at you, he doesn't shout at you, he just talks smart, and-- your pager is beeping.'

He was already reaching for it. 'Yes.' It was Wufei's number. 'I need to ring him.'

'I think I saw a payphone by the john.'

'Sorry.'

'It's cool. Go.'

There was a line of women queuing by the toilets, girls really with hair piled atop their heads, eyes heavily outlined in dark colours, blues and greens shadowing their eyelids. They watched him with pursed lips as he approached them, and Heero turned a shoulder to them as he took up the pay phone. He dug in a pocket for change, sorting dimes and pennies of American currency that was only partially familiar, nine moths after coming here.

Fingers nudged his elbow. He didn't jump, but his muscles tensed as one, and he grabbed the hand that touched him, gripping hard.

It was one of the girls. Her red mouth dropped open. He eased his hold immediately, dropping his eyes in apology. 'What.'

'Fifty cents, mister,' she mumbled, and shuffled away from him as fast as he let her go.

Coins. Heero released a breath, and dropped them into the slot. He tucked the receiver to his ear, and dialled Wufei's number.

It rang only twice before Wufei answered, with typical brusqueness. 'Chang. Is it you?'

'Me.' Heero angled his shoulder further against the women and propped an arm against the phone. The leather of his jacket creased coolly against his forehead. 'What's up?'

'What was Duo's news?'

'He's-' It left a wretched taste in his mouth even thinking it. 'He's moving in with Trowa. He wanted to tell us.'

'Trowa?' It was gratifying that even Wufei could be surprised. 'When did-- how did this come about? I didn't know they even spoke to the other.'

'Apparently quite a lot more than speaking.' He scratched at the back of his head and smoothed his hair down over it. 'That's why you paged me?'

'No. I'm downtown. We have a case.'

'It's our night off.'

'Tell that to the criminals.'

There was finally a new beer waiting for him when he returned to their table, though now he couldn't drink it. He hesitated before sitting, but pulled his wallet out from his back pocket and peeled cash from the slot. Duo's eyes flicked down to it, and took the cue.

'Trouble?' he asked.

'I have work,' Heero told him. 'Someone killed a priest.'

'Dude, work on your segues. Really?'

'Yeah, really. Burned him in his car.'

Duo seemed impressed by that effort. 'Sick bastards.'

'Yeah.'

Duo propped his elbows on the table, eyes lively now that business was being discussed. 'You got a perp?'

Two beers, plus the one Duo had drunk. He left a ten, until Duo pushed it back at him with a shake of his head. That figured. Duo's typical form of apology, trying to run around cleaning up messes he hadn't actually made because he couldn't do anything about the ones he had. 'No perp,' he said. 'Not yet.'

'Wow,' Duo commented. He leaned back, folding his hands over his stomach. 'What you don't see in this city.'

'Yes,' Heero said. He traced a drop of cold water down the side of the new bottle, and wiped it away on his jeans. 'You see a lot,' he agreed. 'You see so much more on Earth than in the Colonies.'

'Do we? Maybe it feels that way. I don't know. You couldn't drag me back to L2 at gunpoint.' Duo considered him. 'You okay? You're not exactly rushing out the door.'

'Wufei's already there. He'll deal with the preliminary transfer from the local police.' He wanted to drink the beer, and it wouldn't matter, in the long run, but regulation said he shouldn't, not now that he knew there was a case. Beer never did him any benefit, anyway. It was only a tactic, a hiding blind, and it wouldn't fool Duo, who saw entirely too much, and always had. Heero peeled at the damp label with his fingernail, and said stonily, 'There've been killer cops before.'

Duo's eyebrows climbed. He chewed on his lower lip the way he did when he was thinking, but then he only shrugged and nodded his agreement. 'Lots of them. Vigilantism is an occupational hazard.'

Not asking why Heero had raised the subject. That was nice of him. Sometimes Duo was good enough not to bully his way to what he wanted, too.

'Have you seen it?' he asked instead. 'In Homicide? Or Narcotics?'

Duo nodded again. 'We just had a guy in Narc who got caught. He was on the take for, like, six years.' He rubbed his nose. 'Talk about losing your path, you know? I mean, we've got the lowest of the low, the guys who sell their own kids for another hit, and somehow he went from catching them to feeding off them. How do you do that?'

'I don't know, Duo. Maybe it was their nature all along.'

'I guess. There's definitely people who are just born bad.' Duo watched him for a long minute, a minute that ticked by in silence but for the noise of the bar, the debates on the television. Duo said, 'You shouldn't have tried to go back to L1. Space isn't for us anymore. You didn't feel at home there, and it shook you.'

Heero grimaced. 'What does that have to do with anything?'

'Doesn't it?' Duo grinned, but he looked away, and Heero did, too, scratching at his neck again. 'Well, want me to drive out with you?' Duo asked suddenly.

'Wufei's my partner.'

The instant it was out he realised how awful it sounded. Duo's face had gone still, and his eyes stayed resolutely on the television screen, as if he were actually interested in Edam Lehaye had to say about economic growth.

'I'm sorry,' Heero said.

'No, it's cool. You're right. I was just saying, you know, I would drive out.' Duo laughed. 'It's all right.'

Heero pulled the beer bottle near, to stare down into the neck of it. Pale bubbles. 'How well do you know him?'

'Know who? Wufei?' Duo laughed again, but it was uncertain now. He looked at Heero curiously. 'Against all odds, he’s a good friend. We were closer before I moved to Narc.'

'Oh.'

'I always thought he was a lot like you.'

Now it was Heero's turn to laugh. It didn't sound natural, like Duo's, didn't sound easy, and he gave it up in the space of a breath. Duo's expression softened.

'I made a funny?' he murmured.

Heero smiled grimly. 'Yeah, I guess.'

''I left my Heero-to-English dictionary at home, sweetcheeks.'

He sat back with a scowl. 'Is it that damned hard to understand me?'

'Not all the time. I'm better at it when I've had more booze.'

He stood and tucked in his chair. 'Why don't we go for a ride?'

**

'They really had to tape off three blocks?'

'They've been more cautious lately.' Heero followed the wave of the rookie who parked him near the police cars, all still running flashing lights, though sirens were silent. 'Do you see Wufei?'

'I think I spot some olive and brown up there. You have your badge with you?' Duo checked, undirected, in the glove compartment. He tossed the badge at Heero. 'You want me to stay here? I can nap in your car.'

'Come.'

'Yeah?' Duo cocked his head. 'Thanks. I'll keep my head low.'

No, he wouldn't, and they both knew it. But for some reason it made Heero feel better about a great many things.

They both had to display identification at the perimetre. Narcotics agents didn't carry badges, only cards, and the rookie who checked them in had clearly never seen that kind of card before. But for Duo it was only an opportunity to pull out the charm, to put on the show that he gave to all civilians who never knew anything about Preventers but the hot-shot pilots on camera and the scowling detectives who showed up to commandeer cases away from the hard-working local police. Duo was polite, explaining his credentials; Duo was deprecating, downplaying the miscommunication; Duo was funny, making jokes about interdepartmental crossfeeds; and the rookie was dazzled. Heero had seen it before, all the way back to the days when they'd been disguising themselves as schoolchildren while secretly they attacked their classmates' OZ parents by night. Heero was not charming, but no-one ever seemed to expect him to be. They didn't look him in the eye, or not for long.

They were finally let in under the 'crime scene' tape, and they followed the steady stream of foot traffic around the corner. From there, it was hard to miss it. It had been a car, once. Now it was a smoking wreck, the charred metal frame smouldering still. Even the building it was parked beside had been scorched. Fire suppressant almost masked the smell-- almost.

Wufei was there, wearing his uniform jacket over suit pants. He carried a notepad, his pen waving the air, inscribing something as he spoke to a policeman. He was frowning. When he spied his two friends nearing, his frown deepened.

Duo made a jaunty wave. 'Howdy, cowboy. How'd you land this level of excitement?'

'Luck,' Wufei said succinctly. 'Why are you here? Special assignment, Maxwell?'

'I was kinda in the neighbourhood.' Duo clapped him on the back, and peered around him to the car. 'You caught an interesting one. Standing upwind, I see.'

Wufei's frown transferred to Heero. 'Wouldn't you?'

Duo tossed them both a quick smile. 'I'm gonna go look.'

Wufei put up a warning finger. 'Don't. Touch. Anything.'

'Come on, Wufei,' Heero said softly. 'He knows his way around a crime scene.'

'It's okay,' Duo shrugged. 'I know he just doesn't trust anyone but his own incredibly anal self.' He ducked the grab Wufei made for him, leaving just an impression of a grin, like a Cheshire cat fading from view as he jogged ahead. Heero shook his head as Wufei slashed both hands angrily through the air.

'Why's he here?' Wufei demanded again.

'He's been in the field investigating longer than either of us,' Heero said. 'He might catch something we missed.'

'He might. Or we might be perfectly adequate to the task. Did you bring him solely to keep him away from Trowa?'

'Don't.' He put his feet in motion, crossing the pavement. The police had already marked forensic evidence with orange cones, a footprint, a broken butane lighter. He crouched over the lighter. 'This could have been here a year or more.'

'It's a well-travelled street.' Wufei pointed to security cameras installed at the corners. 'Wrong angle. It's unlikely we'll have anything covering this exact spot. Maybe the red-light camera from the intersection, but I'm guessing it's out of range.'

'Agent Scarab?' One of the policeman approached. 'The city coroner is here. You said you had special instructions for her?'

'Yes.' Wufei tapped Heero on the shoulder with his pen. 'Go mind Duo. He is not to touch anything.'

Duo stood at the car, by the driver's door-- what had been the driver's door. His posture was relaxed, one boot canted up to rest on the other, his fist in his pocket. He fidgeted with his braid, tugging at the weave just below his shoulder. 'Hey,' Heero said, just to alert him someone was near. Duo didn't look, but his finger, caught in a loop of his hair, paused momentarily.

Heero halted beside him. The corpse in the driver's seat was still recognisable as human, though all features had been destroyed by the flame. The lower jaw had fallen free. Leaning in, Heero could see it had dropped to the seat. If there was anything else in the car, it wasn't immediately obvious. The seats, plastic or leather or whatever combination it had been, were slurry now, totally gone. The dash had melted. Just the body for evidence.

'What do you think?'

Duo didn't answer right away. When he did, at last, his voice was hoarse. 'Thing, uh, burned pretty good. You thinking there was accelerant?'

'I smell something. I don't know. It could just be the vinyls in the car.'

'It's a '98 Chevy.'

'And?'

'And there were cases a few years back. Remember they called it the car bomb scare? Exploding Chevy.'

'This isn't one of those cases. It's in too good shape. Those sprayed shrapnel for a hundred feet.'

'Yeah.'

'The fire's completely contained. The wall there only melted from the heat, not direct contact.'

'He died in the fire?'

Duo's voice was odd again. Heero looked at him, but Duo's face was turned away, shadowed by the bright lights erected by the police. 'Don't know,' Heero said. 'The coroner will make the determination.'

'Anything about this case you do know? Why's it under Preventers? Do you even know if this is a murder?'

'He was under suspicion of some very unpleasant things. The logical suspect went missing a few days ago.' Wufei had walked away with the case file, but one of the detectives hovering nearby, and patently listening in, was quick to supply it when Heero turned. He passed it to Duo. Duo held it upside down and then nearly dropped it, while Heero tried to rescue it. 'Are you all right?' Heero asked.

'Yeah. No. I mean, yeah.' Duo strung his fringe behind his ears, and got the file open without loosing the pages. Heero looked about, and found Wufei prowling the street behind them, on his department mobile phone and evidently having an argument with someone on the other end of it. Wufei nearly stalked into a cop. He stopped and glared until the other man moved.

Duo rubbed his eyes and gave him back the file. 'My eyes are funky, I can't read it.'

He folded it under his arm. 'You can stop by the office if you want to look at it later.'

Wufei came striding toward them then, swinging his phone at his side. 'We're to wait for our own coroner. Duo? You saw the case file? Serial paedophile. Accused but never prosecuted-- you know the type. He was moved from parish to parish, though there was one large settlement in 193 with a family whose boy killed himself. The locals were investigating an allegation that several boys under the priest's care in an after-school programme had been victimised. Two of the boys were wards of the state. War orphans. One was colonial. And the colonial boy disappeared two days ago.'

'He's person of interest number one,' Heero said. 'Thirteen. Old enough to fight back. And known to have a temper.'

'Yeah, well, maybe he's dead, and you're barking up the wrong tree. Thirteen is still a kid, guys.'

Wufei sighed. 'Fair enough. But we have to follow procedure. Victim he may be, but he's also the likeliest suspect. The timing alone is suspicious.'

'Yeah,' Duo said. 'Yeah. God bless the violent ones.'

'That's not funny,' Wufei retorted shortly.

'You gotta laugh or you cry, right?'

'Or be furious. They're hypocrites, the violent ones. The police were taking his case seriously. They were preparing to arrest the priest. Why do you always leap to take the victim's side? That's not our job, Duo.'

'Because preparing isn't the same as doing.' Duo cleared his throat. 'I'm gonna-- I don't feel well. I'll be right back.' That abruptly, he was leaving.

Heero faced his partner. 'What's wrong with you?'

Wufei turned on him just as coldly. 'What's wrong with you? You brought him here, to a crime scene with a dead priest? Of course he's sick. Do you ever think?'

'What does that matter--' He remembered why only slowly, and dropped his head back on his shoulders. 'L2.'

'Don't let him stand here staring at the corpse all night.' Wufei's mobile rang. 'I'm trying to get the coroner here. Drive him home and get back when you can. We'll be hours at this.'

'Fine. Yes.'

'And let him alone about Trowa.'

'Answer your phone, Wufei.'

Duo was only gone a minute. Wufei had no sooner walked off than Duo was back, carrying a bottled water, his face and hair damp. Heero studied him closely, but could identify nothing more than a slight redness of the eye that could have been just smoke exposure. His own were itchy and irritated, and he took the offer of the bottle when Duo gave it, splashing his hand and wetting his face. He dried his eyes on his sleeve.

'Sorry,' he offered tentatively. 'You okay?'

'Oh, yeah, I'm fine.' Duo smiled at him, an expression that offered no information and let nothing whatsoever in. 'Hey, one of the cops over there told me there's some junk in the trunk. Mind if I take a look at that?'

Wufei had delivered his orders. Wufei was senior partner. Wufei was also not there to see him disobey. 'Yeah, of course,' he said. 'Come on.'

Someone had propped open the boot of the car with a jack. The twisted flap and burnt-out carpet bottom made it hard to distinguish, but Heero saw what Duo did almost as quickly. Melted glass. And something that looked as if it had once been powder. Duo pulled his jersey sleeve over his finger and rubbed up a line of it. It came off black, but he sniffed it and examined it in the light. 'Well,' he said, 'you're working with Narcotics now.'

'The only reason this is a Preventers case is the colonial angle. Drugs in the trunk of a car that may or may not be connected to the dead priest may or may not have any impact on the colonial angle, and that's a pretty tenuous reason to bring in Narc.'

'Until we know for sure what is or isn't connected, you're stuck with us. God knows there's a lot of colonial hands in the drugs business.' Duo found a tissue in a pocket and carefully scrubbed his shirt of the powder. 'I'll call it in. Quick and dirty guess, it's meth. Glass means equipment, car means transport. Maybe your priest is a dump-job. Or maybe he was driving the goods and the junk blew him up. It's not exactly a stable grocery item. Either way, someone sold someone else the goods, and a lot of the sellers around here are colonial, since Parliament was so kind as to open up the borders two years ago.'

Heero touched the tip of the orange evidence cone, rocking it once and letting it go. He decided, 'I'm glad you're in on this. You see things.'

'I see me making your job harder.' Duo's mouth turned down uneasily, but then he looked at Heero and the smile returned, as if it had never gone. The real smile. 'But it's in my lap, so I can probably keep the case.'

'I don't want to hand it off entirely, but I'm amenable to a joint investigation.'

'Joint investigation, huh?' Duo mimed sinking a basketball. 'Maybe I want it all to myself.'

'It's our collar.'

Wufei was back, joining them as he finished his latest phone call. 'Give it to him if he wants it.'

Duo stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled. 'Repeat that? Never seen you give up your turf. Is this a newer, gentler Wufei? One who shares his sandbox?'

'No, it's the one who doesn't think this case is going to bring anyone anything rewarding. Take it. Homicide will ride second.'

'Sure.' Duo put out his hand, and Wufei handed off the case file. 'Wow. I think I might be sleepwalking, or something. Pinch me, Heero.'

Heero felt a little like that, too. Wufei was not looking at him, and he didn't know if that meant it was an order from above and Wufei didn't like it, or if this was some way of making Duo feel better about the crime scene-- although how could it be, making him take on a case that was bound to raise more personal ghosts? 'Just keep us in the loop,' Heero said slowly.

'I look forward to reading your reports, gents.'

'Insufferable,' Wufei said. 'Attitudinal... you knew he'd be like this, didn't you?'

'I just hate to disappoint you, Wufei.'

'I'll handle the coroner,' Wufei told them. 'The body is still Homicide's to worry about. Get a team here sometime tonight? I want these locals gone before they contaminate the crime scene walking all over the bloody thing.'

'Love you too, baby.'

Wufei left them with a soft growl. Duo laughed at his back, but quietly. Heero knocked his fist into Duo's shoulder. 'You can be such an ass,' he said.

'Ah, he likes it.'

'He didn't look happy to me.'

'I gotta be honest with you, I don't think I've ever seen him happy.' Duo turned back to the trunk. He unclipped the pen from the case file and used it to nudge at the melted glass. It broke at the lightest touch, and Duo stopped with a grimace.

'He's happy,' Heero defended his partner. 'Occasionally.'

'Must have blinked and missed it.' Duo clicked the pen at him. 'Could you give me a ride to HQ? I do need to get a team together. I'll need to check the duty roster and see who I can get.'

The trip was silent. It was still early enough, not quite ten, but the night had the stretched and weary feel of the early morning hours. He was tired in the mind, but his body knew it wasn't done yet and wouldn't relinquish the adrenaline. His fingers were locked on the steering, and he drove just a little too fast. He deliberately slowed. Duo was silent, and Duo was many things, but silent was rarely one of them. When he risked sideways glances, Duo was still, as well, staring out the windscreen, unblinking.

'What's wrong?' Heero asked him, when they came to rest at a red light. The car hummed quietly, and Heero thought of the other car, the burnt car, and its dead occupant. How Duo had looked, standing there before it. A man alone with his thoughts, the way Duo always preferred to be. Duo had his reasons, and they were his.

Duo came to life for a brief smile. It reached his eyes, but faded quickly. 'I think I'm just tired.'

They acquired a line of traffic behind them, five more cars in quick succession, two in the lane beside them that played music so loudly it penetrated even their closed windows. Heero flexed his hands on the wheel. 'It's because he was a priest, isn't it?'

'You know, I don't think it was. I don't know. Somehow that's not the part that bothers me.'

'The missing kid?'

'I don't know. I can't put my finger on it.'

'When you do... we could hash it out.'

This time, the smile stayed. 'Thanks,' Duo said. 'We will.'

'You can be quiet if you want to be.'

'I think I might have told you this already tonight, but you're a really good friend.'

The light turned green. Heero released the brake, and drove through the intersection. One of the vehicles behind them sped up and zoomed around him, brushing a little too close in his eagerness to get ahead. Heero flashed his lights, but the incident went ignored. He pulled into the right-hand lane anyway, to take an off-ramp to the highway. It was shorter than sitting through all the lights, and he didn't want to put Duo through a longer drive than necessary. Duo preferred to be busy.

Duo. Duo reached out and put his hand over Heero's, on the shift between them. It just rested there, his fingers curled warmly down over Heero's. Heero couldn't look at him, couldn't even swallow suddenly. His hand twitched, numbly.

'Sorry,' Duo mumbled. 'I didn't think.' He let go, and put his hands in his lap instead.

'No, it's okay.' Heero wet his lips. 'I don't mind.'

'Oh, hey, don't miss the exit.'

He almost did. He was going too fast to pull off, and the tyres complained shrilly as he wrenched the wheel. A horn trailed them as he pulled just wide of the barrier and took the exit for SOMA. 'Sorry,' he said tensely.

'My fault.'

He shook his head, the only answer of which he was capable. They didn't speak again as Heero bypassed Rincon Hill and turned toward Mission Street. Preventers Headquarters had become not so much a single building as a sprawl of loosely connected offices in the same neighbourhood, and when Duo had moved to Narcotics he had moved as well from the office that housed Homicide. It took conscious effort not to drive to his own office. Duo didn't make a peep to remind him.

Then, abruptly, it was over. He found parking right in front of Duo's building, and pulled into the spot. Duo coughed, and stabbed at his safety belt. 'Um,' he said. 'Thanks for the ride.'

'Yeah.' His own voice was rusty now. 'No problem. Let me know if I can help with the case. I'll be-- I'll be headed back now to help Wufei with the body. For Homicide. Unless you need a ride.'

'No, I'll catch an outgoing with one of the guys.' Duo opened his door, and the cabin lights came on, dim and orange. Duo sat looking at him, one leg out the door on the pavement below, his teeth digging into his bottom lip so hard it was white from the pressure.

He said, 'Just so you know, I didn't throw up or anything.'

Heero blinked. 'I didn't think you did.'

'Okay, it's just that I'm telling you because-- sanitation issues, or something--' Duo stopped talking, and put his hand on Heero's cheek. He leant across the shift and kissed Heero gently.

All he felt at first was confused panic. Duo was kissing him. He didn't know-- he didn't know, ever know, what it meant, except that it did mean, mean, something, because it was Duo and Duo was always meaning something that Heero didn't understand and that was all he ever damn well knew. But he fumbled out a hand from the wheel and was touching, was touching Duo's throat, skin that was sandpapery with stubble, making him suck in a breath, shivers breaking out over him. He sucked in a breath, and then his mind went clear and clean. He kissed Duo back. Clumsily, hungrily. Their teeth clacked. He closed his eyes.

Duo ended it. He shifted away, just turned his head away, but only enough to press their cheeks together. Heero realised his heart was beating horrifically fast. His mouth was wet from Duo's mouth. He licked his lips, and dropped his head to Duo's shoulder. The cool cotton of his shirt was a relief to the heat of his head. Duo let him rest there, let him stroke with the pad of his thumb just above the vee of his collar.

He felt Duo swallow. Duo whispered, 'I shouldn't have done that.'

His heart was just starting to slow. It skipped a beat, now, a sickly little lurch. 'Maybe. It's okay. It was-- nice.'

Duo's breath stirred his hair. 'Yeah.' That was his warning, and he sat back. Duo was slower, easing back into his own seat. The world expanded. They were in the car. His car. His left hand was still on the wheel, and Duo's door was still open to the street, and there were night noises, traffic noises and people noises, not the deaf void he'd been sitting in where all of that had vanished.

'I appreciate it,' Duo said, as if it were somehow deadly important. 'Appreciate you. Having you looking out for me.'

Heero nodded, because he didn't know what else to do. 'We, uh, have history.'

'Yes. I like our history.' Duo scrubbed suddenly at his face. 'Damn it,' he groaned. 'I'm a bastard.'

'Since when?'

'Rewind about two point five minutes.'

'I'd rather not.' His hands were damp. They'd never done that before. He dried them on his jeans. 'I mean-- I don't want to take that back.'

Duo stared at him. 'No, me neither, just-- me neither. I just shouldn't have done it.'

'You don't have to do it again.'

'I always kind of thought that if it was gonna be one of you guys, it would be you.'

He breathed. He went on breathing, must have, because he didn't die. It felt like that, though. His hands had been stone dry the night he'd self-destructed his Gundam. 'Guess you were mistaken.'

'Heero.'

'Trowa. He's more-- what you want.'

'He's just more ready, Heero.'

'Yeah.' He breathed. He was the one to lean across the seat, this time, the one to kiss Duo, this time. Less clumsily than before. More deeply. He slid his hand into Duo's hair, into the weave of the braid, to cup his jaw, to touch the whorl of his ear. Duo gripped his jacket, Duo sat still for him, let him. It was tender and sweet, not what he'd ever imagined, if he'd ever really let himself imagine it. There was heat in his belly, already dying.

He let go, and sat back. Duo caught his hand as he dropped it, but didn't stop him when he tugged away.

'I guess I'm not him.'

'You don't want to be.' Duo pushed his fringe away from his face and sighed. 'We'd get ourselves into trouble. And I want you to always be my friend.'

'Yeah.'

Duo looked at him for a long time. He thought Duo would touch him again, but the moment had passed. He didn't invite it. Duo didn't dare it. Duo pushed at his own hair again, an angry swipe, a helpless gesture. He stared out the open door.

'It's late,' Heero said. 'You should go in before shift change.'

'Okay. Right.' Duo swung his legs out. He hesitated before he rose, and hesitated again after, one arm propped on the door, looking anywhere but inside. He said, 'Good night, Heero.'

'Good night,' he echoed.

**

'That site's gonna be a bitch to clean up,' Cuartero said. 'Chem lab found contaminates thirty feet past the car. Must've been a windy night.'

'That'll be expensive,' Duo noted. He twirled a pen between two fingers. 'There go the Christmas bonuses.'

'Toxic waste,' Alvarez explained to Heero and Wufei. 'Every pound of meth produces about five or six pounds of waste. And when it explodes, it sprays. Could be a hundred, hundred fifty thousand to clean up that street.'

The Narcotics office was smaller than Homicide, considerably better appointed. Each agent sat at a fine cherry-stained desk, stocked with a sleek flat-panel computer monitors and ergonomic keyboards. Heero had been on the list for a teleconference phone pod for two years. Wufei's analogue mobile phone had been the product of strenuous negotiation, and they only had the one between them. Duo had a wireless headset and a digital camera that he was currently using to upload pictures of the meth lab from the dead priest's car.

And yet Heero and Wufei were the only two wearing suits. Cuartero had a nice leather jacket, and that was the best that could be said. Duo wore tatty blue jeans that left his knees poking out from wide tears and a faded blue tee shirt that sagged at the shoulders. He was chewing on a string of hair loose from his braid. Alvarez looked even worse than that, in a bandana and stained wife beater.

'Any leads on the drugs?' Wufei asked.

'I'm going to the Castro later to meet up with some guys who might have some information.' Duo turned his screen toward them and pointed the pen at an indistinguishable smear of black powder and sooted car trunk. 'Our lab is backed up about six weeks, so there's no way to put a rush order on anything without more than a dirtbag dead guy pushing for it, but you kind of learn your way around the residue. Could be brake fluid. Flammable and corrosive. We're not going to get any kind of brand name or anything, but we might be able to trace any bulk buys or steals. This over here was probably sodium hydroxide, and there's a little bit of plastic left in here so it looks like it was being transported separately. Honestly, I don't think our dead guy was cooking. At most, he was driving the ingredients. I think someone lit the junk and let it burn itself out. Whether the explosion killed old Father Benito or whether Benito was dead already, well, I guess we'll have to wait on the lung biopsy.'

Heero noted that in his pad. 'Lung biopsy?'

Cuartero nodded. 'If he was alive when the meth burned, he probably died from asphyxiation. Ammonia, butane, hydrochloric acid, all that shit sears the lungs bad. If he breathed it before he died, we'll know when we get the results from the coroner. If he was dead when he was dumped and the perp burned the car to cover it up, then we've got more work to do.'

'I'll tell you what, though, if he was using, our nasty priest was likelier to be an abuser,' Duo added abruptly.

Wufei's pen paused in writing. 'What?'

'Don't you read the FAQs we send the other departments? Meth use increases the risk of child abuse and domestic violence.'

'Child abuse is a bit of a walk from paedophilia,' Heero said cautiously.

'Not that much.' Duo slouched low in his seat, fiddling with the cord connecting the camera to the computer. 'All I'm saying is we shouldn't rule out a connection.'

'There was never any hint that Benito was connected to drugs,' Wufei protested slowly. He flipped his pad closed. 'Look, if anything, it's more probable it's the missing boy. You're the one who pointed out the colonial angle with the local drug rings. An orphan in an abusive situation is likelier to reach for a convenient... solution. A priest hiding a drug habit, especially an addictive one like meth, is too easily exposed to his congregation.'

'Much easier to hide a few decades of child molestation,' Alvarez muttered.

'Probably,' Heero said.

Duo's mouth was tight. 'First this kid is a murderer just because the man who's fucking him turns up dead. Now he's a meth mule because there's drugs in the car. How about we wait until we find this kid to start lynching him?'

'Duo,' Cuartero said. 'Que está bien. Tu necesita pa calarse.'

The look Duo shot him was mulish. But he listened. Wufei looked on uncomprehendingly, ignorant of Spanish or unable to follow Cuartero's thick Caracas dialect. Heero listened, and filed it away for later consideration.

Alvarez cleared his throat. 'Homicide get anything from the guy's suite in the church rectory?' he asked.

'Treasure trove of the usual disgusting type,' Wufei answered. He flipped the case file to the evidence log. 'Video tapes. Kiddie porn, mostly, although we're still plowing through it. There's a few interesting tapes in which he appears to be confessing to the camera what a monster he is. He describes his grosser acts in some details. If they'd been found while he was alive, it would have guaranteed prison time and hefty settlements from a number of his accusers.'

'It's called aversion therapy,' Heero commented. Duo was winding the cord of the camera around his finger, over and over again. He avoided Heero's eyes. 'He's supposed to watch the tapes of himself and masturbate until he associates the guilt of confession with sex.'

'Obviously not too successful,' Duo said. He scrunched his nose at the ceiling, and sighed. 'But nothing about the boys from his church.'

'Jessie Olmeda and Micco Rodelan.' Wufei nodded for permission, and went to the white board the Narcotics agents used to track their open cases. He used clips to post pictures of the two boys, and uncapped a marker to neatly etch their names beneath each slip. 'Olmeda was the first to come forward with allegations of sexual abuse. A schoolteacher noticed blood on his shorts and confronted him. When he was pressed, he admitted it had happened at the church, during the after-school programme. Not surprisingly, Benito rallied a few loyal staffers and attacked the boy's story, called him a liar, said he was disturbed. Olmeda claimed that Rodelan would substantiate his story. But Rodelan didn't trust the police, and there was some kind of altercation at the station when they brought him in for interview.'

'They dragged a thirteen-year-old kid to a police station to say all the adults are calling you another lying colonial bitch, and would you be so kind as to prove your friend's innocence while you're at it.' Duo shoved to his feet. 'It's amazing how this story never gets too old for another repeat. And they didn't think him not trusting authority figures or exhibiting unusually aggressive behaviour were classic signs of abuse?'

'Apparently not.' Wufei capped his marker and tapped it against his palm. 'They held him in juvenile lockup overnight and returned him to the orphanage. Which returned him to the church-run after-school care programme.'

'What about Olmeda? They can't have put him back there, not without investigating it further.'

'No, Olmeda's been withdrawn from the programme. He's also still at the orphanage. We've asked for an interview, but he has a lawyer now, and the woman is stalling.'

'I'll bet she is, with Benito burnt to a crisp.' Duo joined Wufei by the board, glaring up at the pictures. 'What's the timeline on Micco disappearing?'

'A full three weeks after the police heard Olmeda's allegations. And only two days before Benito turned up dead.'

Duo turned, crossing his arms over his chest. 'And the meth is really the only surprise in all of this. The meth is the only thing that doesn't make sense. So if we track the meth, we figure out who really did this. And maybe we find the kid.'

'Maybe,' Wufei said dubiously. 'And maybe the meth is a red herring, and means nothing at all.'

'We'll know when we solve the case then, won't we.' Duo pulled Rodelan's pic from the board and strode past Alvarez and grabbed his jacket from his chair. 'I'm going to head into town and start talking. The longer we sit on this the harder it's going to be to find Micco. We're already past forty-eight hours. Are the locals looking?'

'They've put out an official missing persons,' Heero said. 'But he's an orphan in a big metropolitan area. It's not a priority case.'

'Good thing we have other resources.' Duo pocketed the picture. 'I'm out. I'll check in later. Cuartero, follow up with the lab and stay on the heist angle for usual meth ingredients. I still think we're gonna get lucky if we just follow the trail of pharmacy robberies down California. Alvarez--'

'Colonial trade, cartel activity, and human trafficking,' the older agent finished, already heading for his desk. 'My favourite holy trinity.'

'God bless us, every one.' Duo cocked his head at his friends. 'Appreciate the briefing, guys. There's a nice cafeteria downstairs if you two want to grab lunch before you had back to your office. They have a good vegetarian chili.'

'Who are you going to interview?' Heero asked curiously.

'Talk to,' Duo corrected. He untucked his braid from his jacket and dropped it loose. 'Some people who run a little left of the law. They don't know I'm an agent, so they deal with me.'

'Ah,' Wufei guessed. 'Connections from your undercover work.'

'Bingo.' Duo laid a finger alongside his nose. 'I won't get anything official from them, but they'll be able to tell me who else to talk to.'

'I'd like to come,' Heero said.

Everyone else blinked at that. Not Duo, but it was there in the way Duo very much did not blink, held himself very still for a moment. Then he breathed in deeply, sucked in his cheeks, and said, 'Um. It's not really the kind of place where, um. You're a little--'

'What.'

'Asian,' Duo said.

'I can't go because I'm Japanese?'

'It's not a friendly neighbourhood,' Duo said lamely.

'You're white,' Wufei pointed out coolly. 'If race matters, I don't see why it's fine for you to go and not us.'

Cuartero whistled silently and walked away. Alvarez watched, grinning widely.

'What, now it's both of you?' Duo rubbed his neck. 'I said this badly. But the point stands. I can't go where I'm going dragging two men who look the way you look. I've spent years in Narcotics building an identity they can work with. They know me, okay. They don't know you, and it's not going to be all right for me to bring you.'

'I let you come last night,' Heero said. 'Sometimes we do things we shouldn't do.'

That landed. Duo swallowed.

**

'What's your undercover name?' Heero asked.

Duo parked. 'Duo,' he said.

Heero looked at him. 'You use your own name?'

'The first time I worked undercover I used a ready-made ID, and I gave it up in about two hours. I don't have records or a past that Preventers have to bury with fake passports and altered computer algorithms, anyway. As far as anything before 195 is concerned, I'm a ghost.' Duo pointed up the street. 'We're headed for that restaurant. A friend of mine goes there for lunch most days. When we get there, I talk, not you, okay? Even if he asks you questions, I answer them for you. You don't open your mouth even if he threatens to shoot you in the kneecaps and boil you.'

'Is he going to do that?' he asked, quite practically, he thought. He only had his sidearm and his ankle holster, and Duo appeared to be-- well, it was Duo, so appearances were only so much of the story-- unarmed.

'Roque? Nah,' Duo shrugged. 'But I want you to act like he could. Because he could, and no-one would find you, got me? He's a powerful man and you're going to be respectful. But with your mouth closed.'

'I understand, Duo.'

'It's a good thing Wufei got too high-and-mighty to come after all.' Duo knocked down the sun shade and took his wallet from it. 'If I asked him to shut up he'd read me the Oration On the Dignity of Man just to show me he could. You'll actually listen.'

'It would be easier to listen if you didn't talk so much and say so little.'

Duo looked at him. Heero did not return his gaze. He unbuckled his safety belt, and opened his door. Or would have, but Duo reached over him and yanked it shut.

'Don't get out until I do,' he said. 'And if you want to be pissed at me about kissing last night, that's fine, but we do that off the clock.' He opened his own door, and exited the car.

Heero shoved the door wide, and stood out onto the pavement. He hadn't quite believed Duo's noise about the neighbourhood, but they were already gaining notice. San Francisco had a number of ethnic ghettos, but there was silent hostility in the stares that were coming their way. The old men loitering outside a dilapidated laundry grumbled to each other harmlessly, but the teenagers who stood on the corner opposite had an air of danger to them.

'Gang?' Heero asked Duo, who gestured him to follow. They crossed the street together, weaving between the cars that slowed for a red light. Heero let his hands fall loose and ready in case he needed to reach for a weapon.

Duo did not-- he walked with his hands in his pockets, and that could only be deliberate. But then, looking at him, he didn't look any less dangerous than the teenagers. There was something about the set of his shoulders. He wasn't afraid.

'Probably,' Duo said. He glanced, and shrugged. 'ALKN. They're not the ones we're worried about. Benito wouldn't have been involved with them, or at least not the young ones like that.'

'But maybe the ones like Roque?'

'Roque is way too high-up for a yucko like Benito. Questions later, okay?' Duo mounted the kerb in front of Birreria Tepechi. 'Did you bring your badge?'

'After what you said, I didn't think you'd want me to.'

'Yeah, but I figured you'd have it anyway.'

'It's in my wallet,' he admitted.

'Man, Preventers have really ground you down, Heero,' Duo said. 'Come on.'

Heero had more or less expected the restaurant to be a front, or at the least a laundering business for gang money. It might well have been that, but it was also a nice-looking establishment, brightly painted in the lobby and bar, welcoming yellows and blues accented with warm inviting music. Waitresses in flamenco skirts and blouses brought loaded trays of food to guests in the booths. The margaritas seemed to be selling well.

'Two for lunch, seňores?' the hostess asked them.

'Two for the bar, seňorita.' Duo laid his hand over the lip of her podium, and a folded bill slid almost invisibly beneath the edge of her appointment book. She noted it with a dip of her long lashes. 'Is he here?'

'He's here.' She looked behind Duo to Heero, looking him over from head to foot. 'He won't be happy about that.'

'Don't I know it.' Duo nodded for Heero to follow. 'Back this way. Roque likes the enchiladas here. It's always the first place I look for him.'

The bar was through a large archway to the left and around a second seating area of booths and tables. Duo led the way confidently, and Heero stayed close, knowing he was meant to, knowing by now that Duo had been very serious about the likely reaction to his ethnicity. They were not in friendly territory, even if Duo knew his way through the negotiations.

There was only one man seated at the bar. Roque. He was young, not much older than Heero and Duo, and though he was a lean fellow, the thin cotton of his tee shirt left no imagination about the heft of his muscles. A ponytail of shoulder-length black hair left a tattooed neck visible well into the low collar of his shirt. Definitely gang, and likely extensive prison time, if the blurry ink and imprecise artistry was any indication. Juvenile offender, and someone who had emerged to a position of relative prominence, if he was someone Duo sought for information.

'Mi amigo,' Duo called, and the dark head lifted from a plate of food. 'Ha sido un rato. ¿Cómo estás?'

'Duo!' The other man slid from his stool to clasp wrists with Duo, pulling him into a rough embrace. 'How you been, cabron? Where you been hiding?'

'I'm good.' With the permission of a friendly gesture, Duo took the stool next to Roque. 'Been laying low. Mi vida loca, you know?'

'Not hardly.' That earned a wry smile. 'You never tell me the whole story. You look better than the last time I seen you. You got that arm out the cast, at least.'

'Just last week.' Duo obediently rotated his left arm, to prove it worked once more. 'Still sore.'

'So you ever gonna tell me who you crossed that beat you two miles outside of Death's door?' Roque looked at him cannily as Duo only mutely shook his head. 'Not this time, huh. Well, you call me if you ever want help taking care of whoever it was. 'Berto didn't like seeing you like that. I didn't like seeing you like that. You have friends with us. Wouldn't be no favours owed, not for that.'

'I appreciate it,' Duo said. 'I am actually here to ask after a favour. Not that favour, but still a favour, if you'll hear me out.'

Roque had noticed Heero. Roque had likely noticed Heero before he'd even begun talking to Duo, but he looked, now, acknowledging it in the opening Duo had left, and it was clear he was not pleased. His mouth, smiling before, had gone flat.

'A favour that involves bringing a cop to my favourite restaurant,' he said in English. It was aimed at Heero as well as Duo. 'You really are loco, Duo.'

'He's not a cop.' Duo snapped his fingers at Heero, and Heero allowed himself to look cross at that; Duo wouldn't be that irritating without meaning to make a show of it. 'Show him your badge,' Duo said. 'He's a Preventer.'

Heero reached into his coat for his wallet. And suddenly a half-dozen men at the tables behind them were standing, shoving their chairs back. Roque didn't look, but made a quieting gesture with his hand. Duo didn't seem surprised by it, either, and now Heero was cross, for not thinking it would happen. He'd already been assuming Roque was someone important in a gang, and now it was obvious that whatever gang he was in was a major player in the city. Whoever Roque was, he was no lone soldier. He ranked a bodyguard.

Heero showed his empty hands to the air behind him, and reached again, slowly, for his wallet. He kept it visible while he opened it to the badge clip. Roque eyed it solemnly.

'Preventer,' he repeated. 'Preventer, cop. Not sure it makes much difference. What's a Preventer got you hopping for?'

'There's a kid missing. Connected to a case Preventers are working on.' Duo pulled the picture of Micco Rodelan from his jacket. The bodyguards, Heero noted, didn't care what Duo went reaching for. They were sitting down and resuming their meals and didn't twitch for him. 'He's colonial,' Duo said. 'So Preventers came to me. Thinking maybe I could help run down some connections.'

Roque took the picture, but he only sighed. 'Man, they're playing you,' he said frankly. 'You think they gotta go to a Gundam Pilot for every missing colonist? They trying to pull you in, Duo.'

That was the puzzle piece Heero had been missing. It wasn't just that Duo used his own name for undercover work; he was himself, and that was its own form of currency in a world that knew and perhaps respected the Gundam Pilots still. He had fought a war, but wouldn't be recognised here for heroics-- he'd be feared for his deadly capability and self-sufficiency. In the underworld of San Francisco Duo's L2 past wasn't a hindrance, but a badge of honour. His notoriety as a Pilot gave him a kind of celebrity that could be useful, in the right context. He could be known to the 'right' people and still be expected to live a shady life, a life that would connect with both Preventers and gangs alike.

And he could see too that Roque's perspective was sensible. Without all the facts, it was a reasonable presumption. And, though Duo wouldn't thank him for it, it was an opening that Heero should pursue, if it would give Duo the cover he needed to get Roque's help.

So he stepped forward, quickly enough that Roque and Duo both sat back in startlement. 'Never mind,' he said brusquely, grabbing for the picture.

'Hey,' Duo protested. But caught on quickly, and pinned the photograph before Heero could get it off the bar. 'I told you I was in. Go order a drink, Agent.'

'Maxwell-'

'Back off.'

They pretended to glare each other down while Roque watched with great interest. Heero broke first, with a huff of annoyance, and shuffled to Duo's right, taking up an awkward stance against the bar. Duo rubbed at his neck as if he didn't like feeling Heero standing so close to him there, and heaved a deep sigh of his own.

'Look,' he said, 'Roque, I know and I don't care. The missing kid is colonial. You know more than I could tell you what it's like to be in a city like this where la policia don't give a flying shit about any kid from the block. He's my people. If I can help, I gotta try, don't I?'

'Not if you start thinking with this and not with this.' Roque touched his chest first-- his heart-- and then his head. 'What do you even want me to do? Why bring this to me?'

'That's the favour part. Put the kid's picture around? If he's just run away, he might turn up in places the police and Preventers won't be looking.' Duo rubbed a folded edge of the pic. 'Kid got fucked around real bad on Earth. There was a priest. Jose Benito. He took advantage, you know what I'm getting at. Preventers think the kid is guilty of taking vengeance. I'd like to find him before they decide he's guilty and put an arrest warrant out instead of a BOLO.'

'What if the kid is guilty?' Roque asked.

'Then I'd like to find him so he's safe,' Duo said simply. 'Not to lock him up. You know I'll defend him.'

'I don't know that they'll listen.' Roque jerked his chin at Heero. 'And I don't know that you'll make 'em listen by wishing, man. I think you're better off washing your hands of this.'

'All I can do is ask you to trust me.'

'Ahhh.' Roque tugged on his ponytail in a way that reminded Heero sharply of Duo. '¡Bien! De acuerdo. Give me the photograph.' Duo passed it eagerly, and Roque looked at it again with a shake of his head before he pocketed it. 'Don't get your hopes up, Duo. Odds aren't gonna be good we find the boy.'

'I'm not much for hope or for odds,' Duo admitted. 'But I also don't believe you get anywhere unless you keep trying. Gracias, Roque. Amigo en la adversidad es amigo de verdad.'

'You been talking to my abuelita again,' Roque reproved him. 'She already likes you better cause you watch her damn stories with her.'

Duo grinned. 'I'm always a hit with the old ladies. Seriously, Roque, thank you.'

'No more cops, Duo. No more Preventers neither.'

'He's already gone.' Duo stood, and crooked a finger at Heero. Heero stood. Roque and Duo shook hands, and then it was done. Roque turned back to his meal, and Duo was moving for the door at a rapid pace. Heero kept up with him by dint of longer legs, and managed to get the door opened for the both before Duo went bowling through it.

'You didn't--'

'Car,' Duo said.

They crossed the street. Many of the same faces were there as before, clearly waiting for their reappearance. A few of the young toughs had moved closer to their car, but as they neared it they dispersed rather than confront. Heero kept his hand near his weapon anyway, even as Duo unlocked the doors and they climbed in. Duo stuck the key in the ignition and started the engine. With only a quick glance for oncoming traffic, he pulled out of parking and into the lane, and revved up to speed immediately.

'You didn't ask about the meth,' Heero said.

'Preventers ought to do at least a little of the investigating, don't you think?' Duo adjusted his rearview mirror. 'We can handle that in Narc. And if it is a colonial angle, Roque won't know anything about it anyway. Almighty Latin King Nation mainly deal in cocaine, crack, heroin. Marijuana at the lower levels. They don't bother with meth.'

'Maybe they did this time.'

'They don't. ALKN are way more structured than other gangs. They don't go outside their hierarchy and if their members break the rules, the Crown Council deals with them. The meth is way more likely to be colonial.'

'If you say so.'

'I do. This is what we do in Narcotics, you know. Study this stuff.'

'I know.' Heero pulled his sunglasses from his inner pocket and put them on. The morning fog had totally cleared and it was getting painfully bright in the afternoon. 'Who is Roque? Why'd you go to him?'

'Abelino Roque. It took me about a year and a half to get to him. I had to get myself arrested and sit in jail for three weeks before we met up while he was being transferred for a parole hearing.' Duo made a sharp right, and after a short trip through a dank alley they were suddenly out of the Latin quarter and back on the Castro. Heero let himself unclench from the idea of having to be ready with his ammo. 'He's a good guy,' Duo was saying. 'Smart. And old-school Kingist. He lives by the Manifesto. No prejudices, no dehumanising labels, no horizons between races. It's the inherent social injustices in system that's the problem, and that's why he's going to care about a missing kid.'

'And about you. Maybe it was good that I was there.'

'It helped,' Duo allowed. 'I hadn't anticipated he'd go for that angle on it.'

'He's not wrong about it. You care more about the kid than the rest of the case.'

Duo rubbed his nose. 'Micco is still alive. The priest is dead and the priest was the baddie. I think my priorities are well in order, Heero.'

'Your priority is objective investigation.'

'This is because you're pissed at me.'

'This is because I care about you and you care about causes.' Heero turned his head to the window. 'The missing boy is a cause and maybe Trowa is a cause too. I don't know. You're the only one who can know what's happening inside your head. But Roque was right about that, too. You don't think with your head, even when you should be.'

'Heero,' Duo said, and then didn't say anything else. When Heero looked at him, he was staring at the road with a grim expression, his jaw locked and his hands tight on the wheel.