Pairing: 1+2
Genre: Romance
Warnings: very�unusual.
Song: �Spin You Around�, by Puddle of Mudd
Listen to an extract of the song here: http://www.puddleofmudd.com/releases/default.aspx/pid/919
Lyrics attached at the end of the story
Summary: �I know you understand best, Duo. We both have to discover life anew. We would be in each other�s way. Keep doing that job at the scrapyard, it will help you settle. Don�t go looking for me right away. You�ll know when the time is right, if it is ever going to be.
Author�s Notes:
I know most people wouldn�t agree with me, but I think this song has a wonderful dreamy quality. Of course it�s because of the lyrics that I think of mountains when I listen to it. But I feel that the rest of the landscape I am describing is contained within this song as well. It is a song about dreams, I think, about longing for someone. There is a gentle coaxing within the lyrics. But they are never clear, never direct. There is a promise, an invitation, but nothing more � the speaker cannot directly confront the one he is dreaming about. He�s waiting for the other to make the first step, to �come on over the mountain�. And that is what I wanted to build my story upon.
I have never known more about sheep or sheep husbandry than I do now, after writing this story. Sadly, I have never known less, either. Only when you begin to research something you notice how much there is to know about it�forgive any mistakes my ignorant mind might have come up with.
Disclaimer:
Just below our roof there is a nest box, currently inhabited by two kestrels. They are awesome birds. I might call them Heero and Duo. But I would never claim to own them. They aren�t mine, they are free.
So, Heero and Duo aren�t mine. What more do you want to know? Ah, yes, the song�I mentioned that already, didn�t I? Not mine. What else might there be? Of course, the Gundam Wing universe. Well, if I owned that one I�d have to own the guys as well. Logical conclusion: I own nothing.
Dedication:
To you, mic, again, to thank you for your help and to hopefully serve as an encouragement for all the studying you have to do. Good luck for your exams!
Spin You Around
Walking away from the blinding lights of the city, walking out of his old life, walking the deserted paths of the newly-saved world with only his jacket slung casually over his shoulder and his hand in his jeans pocket, Heero Yuy noticed how the stars became brighter and brighter. Encompassing his vision and leading him on his way, as they had always done, they formed most curious patterns people here on Earth liked to call constellations. He tried to find the logic in them, tried to find out why they had been given the names they had carried from the dark beginnings of mankind up to this day of rebirth.
He travelled by night, for the most part avoiding the curiosity of human eyes.
�I have seen enough of mankind these last few years. I know too much about its flaws and weaknesses. I have to find belief in its strength. Thank you, Relena, for being who you are. We�re going to meet again, but don�t expect it to be too soon.
Heero
From the very beginnings of their existence, men had wondered about the stars. They were therefore a key to the human mind at all times, throughout world�s history. Being given the names of gods and goddesses, leading sailors who had gotten lost within the tempest of the sea, spelling out prophecies to wise men, determining people�s fates, housing their hopes of finding new futures in space, they had served to fulfil some of humanity�s most basic needs.
Guidance, protection, advice � Heero knew not to count upon the stars to satisfy those longings. And yet it were the stars that accompanied him on his long path, that provided a distraction when he became weary of the memories his life had created up to this point.
�I know you understand best, Duo. We both have to discover life anew. We would be in each other�s way. Keep doing that job at the scrapyard, it will help you settle. Don�t go looking for me right away. You�ll know when the time is right, if it is ever going to be.
Heero
Footsteps in time, they were small only, but a great number of them could carry him anywhere. And he realised that what he needed was a place all to himself where he would try to live by his own rules and see if it would work. A place where he had neither missions nor obligations to follow, where instead he could follow his feelings the way his first mentor had suggested so long ago. To see if indeed he was made for that freedom of mind and heart, to see if he could still function in a world at peace.
So far nothing had crossed his path until, one night, shortly after the polar star had reached its highest point, the silhouette of a mountain range rose before his eyes, growing taller the further he approached it. Behind him the sky�s midnight blue was lightening, turning purple, then a soft rose. Snowy planes upon the towering mountain peaks took on the very same colour. Golden sunlight crept into the dark forests covering the long, steep slopes.
Heero walked for a few more hours, an early morning breeze blowing his bangs out of his face. As the sunlight became fiercer and the day grew older, he stopped, not wanting to encounter any other travellers. Within the undergrowth he found a spring to sustain him with water, and underneath a weeping willow, protected by its curtain of long branches, he slept.
*
Long and winding was the road leading ever upwards. Stony it was, narrow and arduous. Hostile it was, and yet Heero walked it steadily, fearlessly, wondering against better knowledge if he would be any closer to the stars once he was going to reach the mountaintop.
The fascinating thing about mountains, he realised as he stood on the top, was that they resembled thresholds. Reaching a peak and resting for a moment was like stopping within the doorframe, all of a sudden a person could see their future lying before them and their past behind them. Another step would mean a decision made.
Everything looked very small, very insignificant from the top of the mountain. Smooth plains and soft elevations were being caressed by the first rays of morning light. Dawn was lurking within woodland and moorland. The newly born sun spilled diamonds all over the rippling waves of rivers and lakes.
Heero hesitated no longer. The landscape behind the mountains hardly showed different features than the one he had just left. There was only one crucial incongruity. Whereas he had formerly failed to spot any traces of human beings, there were a total of three forlorn houses in this valley. All of them were standing on their own, save distances from each other, small and hackneyed, bent over themselves and shattered by storms. Those closer to the opposite end of the valley looked somehow patched-up, poorly mended albeit homely, somehow, as smoke curled up from chimneys when beneath the roofs water was boiling in a kettle for morning tea or coffee.
Probably this valley had never seen an electric kettle, let alone a mobile suit. And that was exactly what made Heero Yuy walk faster until he had arrived at the foot of the mountain, until he finally stopped before the broken fence of the nearest house.
Bleached paint that might have been light blue one day crumbled from old loose bricks. Doors and windows had been ripped out of their hinges. Ivy had spread its long branches all over wrinkled fruit trees in the garden, covering them with coats of dark leaves that rippled softly when a squirrel fled from him.
For a long time Heero just stood there, gazing at the wreckage someone had called their home such a long time ago. Somehow he could still feel it, this peaceful safety that lay dormant within each corner, within each stone.
*
The door was pushed open by the oldest woman Heero had ever seen. Hair white as snow fell down her back in twisted knots and messy plaits. The skin of her face and hands was brown as if the texture of bare earth had been etched into them over years of excruciating work, it showed the same crevices and humps a freshly tilled acre did. Her back was bent slightly but she walked without the aid of a stick. She was clad in a stained green tunic, and green were her small sharp eyes which were intently scrutinising him.
�What do you want?� she asked warily, in a voice husky as the north wind.
Before he could answer, she gave a barking sound resembling a short sarcastic laugh. �Oh, save your breath, I know already. You young fools, building weapons, building factories, building hide-outs, base camps, space ports, as if you had nothing better to do with your days. A fine bit of earth we�re having here, right? Just good enough for one of your mobile suit factories, or one of your underground bases. Now how to get rid of the old scarecrows abiding in their pathetic ramshackle huts? But you know what, soldier boy? We aren�t going to leave here, me and old Mr Sergey over there, at the far end of the valley. There will be no factories and no bases and no space ports upon the earth my ancestors dug up with their bare hands. We were first here, my family, refugees of war-shattered countries and here we found peace, my great-great- grandfather Walther and my great-great���
As her tale progressed, long lines of ancestors began to crowd the valley before Heero�s eyes and he wondered idly if he should leave her to it and try the other house which she had referred to as Mr Sergey�s. However, as he opened his mouth to cut her off, words he had not planned to say fell from his lips. �All I want is quiet. All I want is peace. I have seen enough war machinery.�
She fell silent all of a sudden and went back to scrutinising him. �What do you want?� she began anew, using exactly the same tone of voice he had heard the first time.
Heero met her inquisitive stare without so much as a flinch. �The old, shattered hose at the foot of the mountain, how much is it?�
Her eyes narrowed and she barked out another laugh. �It�s ruined, soldier boy. It belongs to no one. But you�ll have to pay me for the grounds it�s built upon, and they�re good earth, I tell you, earth which my ancestors dug up with their bare hands and�.�
Pretending to listen, Heero quickly went over his small fortune, the recently-discovered account Odin Lowe had left him, the modest wage he had received as Relena�s bodyguard. It had to be enough.
*
Before Heero had moved into the battered house, he had never encountered nature�s course of life. He had never had the time to consider the artwork of a spider�s web or how long it would take for the dew to fade from the meadows in the morning.
Thus it came as a mild surprise for him when he woke up to the gentleness of early sunlight on his face, touching his skin unaltered for there were no glass windows to refract it. With this silvery morning light each spider�s web within the battered house was changed to filigree fabric, the finest, most delicate fabric any respectable weaver must ever have seen. The dew had stealthily crept into the house, had covered those webs closer to the missing windows in tiny drops of clear water sparkling like diamonds when the sun shone through them.
Slowly Heero sat up from where he had been sleeping on the hard wooden floor � far from the dirtiest or most uncomfortable bed he had ever had. He was grateful for the assuring presence of this floor, for had it not been there, wooden and solid, he would have doubted having slept within this palace of glittering diamonds and filigree curtains.
He sat in silence for a long moment, taking the time to look until he was assured the sight would be permanently stored within his memory. The soft shuffle of feet within the grass in the garden finally pulled him back from his reverie and he stood up. Seconds later a barking laugh identified the intruder before the aged woman stepped through the door.
�Get up, lazy boy�, she crowed in bad mockery of a singsong-voice. Ever since they had agreed on a price for the house she seemed to be in extremely high spirits. �We won�t keep Mr Sergey waiting.�
Without bothering to reply Heero picked up his jacket, quickly thrown over an old wobbly chair the night before, and raised an eyebrow at her critically scrunched-up face. She shrugged and hobbled out of the house, indicating him to follow.
Mr Sergey was a man in his fifties, lean and tall, arms and legs sinewy and roughened from work. A full beard graced his sharp features and accentuated the penetrative grey of his eyes. He drove a forest green Land Rover and his smile was genuine when he climbed out of the car to shake Heero�s hand.
�Pleased to meet you, Mr�.what was your name?�
�Just call me Heero�, he answered firmly, holding their eye contact a second longer than necessary. As he had expected, Mr Sergey understood the boundary he had set up. His head moved in a repetitive nod, up and down, then he spread his arm towards the car in a gesture of invitation. �Well, the old scarecrow told me it�s going to town, so get in, Heero.�
�Better hold your tongue and help me in, Sergey�, the old woman huffed but climbed into the back of the car on her own, with surprising agility. Heero walked to the other side of the car and got into the front passenger�s seat.
�How far is it to the town?� he asked Mr Sergey who was buckling his belt and starting the engine.
�Oh, not far at all�, was the answer, �Ten kilometres. It�s a short drive unless the weather conditions aren�t in your favour. We usually get a lot of snow in winter, in this area, and of course no one bothers to clear the roads of our valley. Rain can be dangerous too. Sometimes in spring we get storms that last for more than a week and afterwards��
��and afterwards you can build your house again, boy! You�re soon going to discover that living here isn�t all roses, I tell you. When my great-great- grandfather Walther � bless his soul � moved here there was a storm that�.�
Heero was listening half-heartedly as Mr Sergey began to argue with the old woman about the extent of destruction the historical storm appeared to have caused. Instead he observed a herd of cattle trudging the meadows and decided this had to be how Mr Sergey and the old woman earned their living.
�Are you both farmers?� he casually interrupted the argument.
�Yes,� Mr Sergey answered immediately, �Rosa owns the entire farmland this valley has to offer. The cattle belong to her, as well as swine and fowl. She has given the second house in the valley to me, in return I take care of her acres. There are eight of them in use while four are lying at rest each year. For the crop we hire seasonal workers. Once a week I drive to town to deliver our produce.� He spared Heero a sideways glance. �If you feel up to joining in the agreement, let us know. We could use sheep, you know, there is going to be a new textile manufacturing company in town in a few months and they�re very keen on fulfilling society�s needs of �back to nature� products, if you get what I mean.�
Heero looked out of the window. �I�ll let you know�, he answered softly.
There was a sharp bend of the road and then the mountains formerly filling his vision were replaced by the sight of the town. The image it presented was unusual, small and comfortable houses adorning a softly rising hill upon which there sat a large church with a triumphant belfry. This stile had mostly vanished soon after the outbreak of shattering wars on Earth, shortly before the emigration to the colonies had begun in earnest. Rich cities, small towns and fair villages alike had been swept away by the fires of war.
While the Land Rover squeezed its way through the narrow streets Heero watched the citizens going about their daily tasks and duties, watched life occurring in a way he had not yet experienced, with a quiet certainty that everything would still be there tomorrow, that living a life resembled painting a picture one could admire or eye critically, that one could try to improve or fix, that one could shape to his own likes.
Mr Sergey parked the car in front of the town hall. A bronze sign on the wall told Heero it also contained the local court and other administrative offices. The old woman, Rosa as Sergey had called her, was first to step into the building, finding her way confidently around corners and within long confusing hallways.
Twenty minutes later the contracts were signed with a quickly scribbled �Heero Yuy� and an antiquely squiggly �Rosa Holanda�. In a black folder Heero carried his copy around, feeling very odd about having legally purchased a house for the first time in his life, after doing it so many times in order to assure the safety of the Gundam pilots during the war.
He had just enough money left to buy tools and material to rebuild his new residence. Having had a careful look at the repairs that had to be done the day before, he had already contemplated exactly how much he would spend on those, had already planned out each and every knack.
Mr Sergey treated them to a quick takeaway dinner which they had in the Land Rover on their way back. Taking a careful bite from his pizza and watching the sun slowly setting behind the mountain, a laughing face came to Heero�s memory all of a sudden, a slice of margherita half raised to a grinning mouth, sparkling lavender eyes staring into his.
*
Heero gave the viscous bulk of concrete a last experimental stir until he was certain it looked and felt right. He had been pleased to see that long years of neglect had barely touched most of the bricks. Some had broken out of the wall and had to be replaced or fitted back into their places. Further he had purchased a liberal amount of polystyrene, knowing that the house had to be well-insulated for he was planning to rely on a tiled stove to heat his three chambers - bedroom, living room and bathroom.
The fact that he was well in line with the timetable he had set himself added to his satisfaction. When he had been in town he had arranged for his laptop and belongings as well as a carefully chosen supply of food to be taken to his house in three days. Within this time the outer walls and roof had to be mended so far that rain would no further affect the inside.
He had to admit to himself that the delivery business stretched his budget a little, but he knew there would be more liabilities until he found a way to earn his own money, and he was generally unconcerned about those.
As he was working steadily, lost in thought, he discovered that he felt a certain sense of accomplishment and gratification in building, in mending, in creating instead of causing destruction as had been his occupation during the war. Perhaps it was something he should consider doing for a living later.
However, as the day wore on, he gradually realised that this kind of work, though providing a certain fulfilment, lacked the challenge necessary to captivate him over a longer period of time. The monotone brick-over-brick-over-brick proved to be so very different from the precision mechanics of a Gundam, neither did it attract his intellect as the complicated logic of a computer, a mobile suit or the Zero system did.
Strangely enough, though, he felt no boredom, knowing that he was working towards a clear destination. At nightfall he had finished most of the outward reparations, leaving the roof for the next day.
Naturally, time had taken a much larger impact upon the roof, although the truss hardly needed mending. It was the tiles that made the task difficult for Heero, setting them into the framework took a more elaborate knowledge than building a brick wall. Nonetheless he was soon familiar with the proceedings and half of the roof was completed when the truck carrying his possessions and food arrived.
He looked up from his work upon hearing the noise of the engine. Sitting on the roof ridge he had a marvellous view of the mountain with its sharp peak, smooth like a polished tower and white with snow, crowned with a circle of smaller peaks, and its slopes wrapped in a robe of green forest. High upon the mountain, where the crown of summits began, he recognised the path he had been walking. And there was someone moving upon it. Only a tiny dot it was, but visible to his war-trained eyes sharper than those of a lynx. Something leaped within his stomach in a curious mixture of apprehension and excitement. Then the small moving point was gone and the path was entirely deserted once more. He remained sitting upon the ridge of the roof, staring at the mountain, until two young confused employees had finished carrying his belongings and orders into the house.
Doing online research on his laptop helped a lot with the remaining work, with improvements and energy-saving measures, with tricks to make the house more comfortable and more enduring. Only a week and a half after the arrival of his computer, the house was good as new on the outside.
*
First and foremost a house meant safety, protection from unfriendly weather, a shelter from unfriendly eyes. Heero had recognised those qualities during the war, had therefore valued each house he had been allowed to spend a relatively safe night in. Having a house of his own gave him unexpected options, though. All of a sudden there was personal space, a place he could shape to his very own likes and preferences.
This realisation had him calculate his budget anew. He was not worried about liabilities for he knew he would hardly remain without an occupation for a long time. At the moment, though, living was his first priority and if that meant spending money he did not yet have to create a house that represented him, that mirrored his personality, then that would be what he was going to do.
At sunrise Heero left the no longer battered house to find his way into town. It was a walk of about two hours and he savoured each pace, tried to incorporate the landscape into his body, to become one with it, the way he had sometimes felt back when he had been walking away from his old life with nothing but his jacket in his hands.
It was satisfying to have a clear destination now, a place to come from and to go back to.
The local furniture dealer sold a rather large assortment of goods considering the small size of the town. The choice was in fact so copious it made him indecisive. For long hours he walked the lines of armchairs stroking a multitude of fabrics to find the one that appealed to him the most.
Colours were another problem. Heero had never bothered with a favourite colour, had never considered the possibility of having one, so he momentarily was at a loss as to which colour to choose. The exterior as well as the interior walls needed a paint job.
It took him another hour to discover that a favourite colour could not be found by logical comparison, especially since there seemed to be so many varying shades of one and the same. In the end it was a young shop assistant who suggested he should close his eyes and try to imagine a colour he would want around himself every single day and to go from there. It was lavender he finally came up with, a colour that felt to him soothing as much as invigorating, joyful as well as sad.
Violet with shades of brown and olive finally dominated the furniture he chose.
He began to paint the outside of the house that very same day, until it was too dark to work. Light that differed in intensity with the passing of the sun and the rising of the moon played with the soft violet, made it seem alive, sometimes warm, generous, carefree, sometimes cold, ethereal, removed.
That night his dreams were full of colour, full of lavender and violet floating like a river through a multitude of emotions, finally bleaching and paling to white snow and mountains of durable brown earth.
*
There were things Heero knew he would not find at the local stores, so he welcomed the possibility to order them off the internet. Solar cells belonged in that category. He did not plan to use much electricity. However, while he could forgo central heating, he knew he would need a stove and several lamps. Solar energy would suffice despite hardly being completely reliable. It would certainly help to install energy storage.
He chose his material very carefully, recalling experiences from the war and finding that most of the items durable enough to be fit for a Gundam�s complicated circuit were a lot less expensive than he had expected. On the contrary, he was convinced he would find most of them at an ordinary salvage yard, let alone the one owned by a former Gundam pilot.
When he opened his mail account, he noticed that his fingers were trembling on the keys of the laptop and he pulled them away slowly. An empty page glared back at him, challenging him to find the words to fill it with.
At the scrapyard he would find all that he needed.
Heero closed the empty page and sat motionless for a moment, staring at the computer. Then he began opening new windows, looking for what he required in various second-hand shops he remembered Howard contacting whenever a Gundam needed repairing.
Installing the solar power system seemed to him a lot like a double-edged sword, on an emotional level. He enjoyed working with familiar material, enjoyed the way his motions flowed with so much ease and routine, enjoyed the benefits of hard-earned knowledge. And yet, each knack he performed held a memory, was charged with the expectation of a new battle ahead, was heavy with the remembrance of someone working next to him, swapping tools or playfully nicking spare parts.
*
A few days after Heero had moved into the formerly battered house, he had discovered an old metal cistern at the back of the house, obviously fed by a nearby river. A sense of relief had taken hold of him at the discovery. He had no experience with plumbing and the existence of a cistern and probably still serviceable pipes facilitated his work considerably.
When the solar power system was completed he therefore turned to the cistern to inspect it for flaws such as abrasion, leakage or rust. To his surprise everything was still intact, even though a cleaning job which took him half a day to complete had been necessary.
With that concern quenched he found it essential to make sure that the river waters were in no way contaminated. He first considered asking Rosa about it but had a feeling that, to her, anything that dared touch the ground her ancestors had dwelled upon had reached a permanent state of sainthood. Mr Sergey was far more informative, assuring him that the springs had always been clean and that he was himself using river water.
Thus Heero began to clean the pipes and put them back into their places. He began this work within the house, figuring that the larger part of it awaited him there. A heating rod connected to his energy storage facilities would make it possible to use hot water in the bathroom. Heero had never had a hot bath. He considered it a waste of water, having experienced deprivation of the cool, vital liquid far too often. However, he remembered Rosa�s promises of cold winters about to come and came to the conclusion that it was best to be prepared.
Three days later all the pipes within the house were ready to be used and connected to taps, sinks and tubs, and Heero moved on to the outside. There was a single line of pipes leading towards the river and he followed it for the larger part of the morning, mending and cleaning as he went.
The river glittered with midday sunlight and Heero stood silently for a moment, watching as somewhere close to the other shore a small fish jumped out of the water, barely long enough for the eye to catch a glimpse of smooth dark scales.
Kneeling down onto the soft earth, he let his fingers follow the pipe, let them examine the contrivance lowering it into the water and making sure it could flow freely down towards the house. He had already discovered pipes that exited the house on the other side the day before, leading to a tiny lake within the garden from which the water naturally found its way back into the river. With a hint of amusement he had concluded this arrangement would save him the trouble of buying detergent.
Having adjusted the pipe and the device holding it, he was pleased to see water flowing steadily into it and, with any luck, towards the cistern. Heero got to his feet and wiped his hands on his faded jeans.
A sudden bark had his head snap to the right.
There was a dog sitting on a small hill, looking at him with wide eyes and panting to dissipate heat. One of its pointed ears was lifted and a swishing brown tail waggled eagerly behind it. Its back and nose were black, but around its neck there was a thin circlet of white. The rest of its fur was a beautiful maroon. The dog barked again and leaped down from its elevated seat, landing on large, clumsy paws and ducking in playful invitation. Standing to its full size, its back was about the height of his knees.
The sound of a car interrupted the peaceful scene and seconds later Mr Sergey�s Land Rover came within sight, back loaded with firewood. With an excited bark the dog sprinted towards it, too fast for Heero to try and hold it back. Mr Sergey, however, had noticed the overly enthusiastic intruder and stopped the car a few metres away.
�Hey, Heero!� he called out to him. �You found yourself a friend, I see?�
Heero walked towards them and shook his head. �I was checking the water pipes when all of a sudden he sat next to me.� He looked at the dog that was curiously sniffing the huge wheels of the car. �Assuming that he�s male.�
�He�s quite the pup, still�, Sergey commented contemplatively, looking the dog up and down. �No older than three months. And he�s a crossbreed. German shepherd and Border collie, I�d say, �cause those are dogs Rosa owns. Seems like destiny�s giving you a nudge in the right direction � you can�t get a better sheepdog.�
�Doesn�t he belong to Rosa then?� Heero wondered.
Sergey gave a laugh. �She�s hardly keeping track of how many of them there are, it being spring and all. She�s really old, you know, she no longer bothers with things like that. A lot of them regularly show up at my house. But as long as they behave I don�t mind. Yours is a little more removed, though. Seems our young friend�s been looking for adventure.�
Heero lowered himself into a crouching position and extended his hand carefully. The little dog stretched its nose towards it and sniffed cautiously. Then it carefully licked one of his fingers. When he moved his hand to stroke its soft fur, the dog ducked again and mischievously waggled its tail at him.
�Being completely honest with you, Heero, sheep would be a good investment. And as long as your new friend is young and playful, you can train him perfectly�, Mr Sergey muttered next to him.
�I have no experience whatsoever with sheep, nor with training a dog�, he answered, stroking the pup�s head.
Sergey laughed softly. �No worries, it�s not that hard. Hell, you patched up that house of yours within less than two months, all by yourself. You�re a talented man.� He crouched next to Heero and patted the dog�s head. �He�s an intelligent little guy. Dogs are a lot like actual people, Heero, when they�re still young they need an occupation, some task or other that completes their lives.�
The dog barked again and turned once around itself, as if dancing, trying to catch its tail. Heero started. The memory of long maroon hair had come to his mind and the image was all too vivid.
Sergey stood up and climbed into the car. �I�ll drive to a big farm this weekend, need to see a friend of mine. You�re welcome to join me and have a look at the sheep there.� He closed the door with finality and started the engine.
Heero did not look up. His eyes were fixed solely upon the dog.
*
�...And the hoggatts are with the ewes over there. They�re Merinos, mostly, which guarantees wool quality, and that is what most people care about these days � good, soft wool that does not itch, rather than the cheapest on the market. You could get some of my Coopworth ewes, too, they�re easy-care sheep. How big a herd would you like?�
Heero felt slightly overwhelmed by the uninterrupted flow of words. Henry, Mr Sergey�s friend, had prepared a warm welcome for them, had lead them into his kitchen to serve drinks and a small snack before he had begun to show them around his farm. Sergey had made it clear that Heero was interested in getting a herd of sheep and from that point on Henry had focussed most of his attention at the task of praising his own flock.
�A herd of fifty will be enough for the beginning�, Sergey cut in helpfully. He returned Heero�s doubtful glance with an encouraging grin. �That�s just the right number to get the textile company interested and together with your dog you can handle them fully well. Not all of them are as thick-headed as they�re believed to be.�
�Their number is going to increase�, Heero stated matter-of-factly. �A lot of the ewes you showed me are going to be lambing in autumn.�
Henry laughed. �Well, isn�t that the point? And there are always sheep which grow too old for good wool production and then become suitable for good meat.�
Abruptly, Heero turned his head to look at the sheep. There was a forlorn expression on his face when he said, �I am not going to kill any of them.�
He could almost hear Henry�s grin in his voice. �Our little shepherd seems to be on the softer side, doesn�t he?� Sergey did not answer. Instead his eyes were directed at Heero, somehow hardened though no less friendly. Heero wondered how much his companion had guessed about his former life. He therefore turned to speak solely to Sergey, ignoring his friend.
�I promised myself I�d never kill again�, he said slowly, quietly. They stared at each other for a moment. Even Henry was silent, until one of the sheep bleated nearby and he shouted something towards it. �Well�, he then muttered. �We might as well choose the herd for you now. I can spare fifty of them since, as you noticed, most of my ewes will be lambing soon. Follow me.�
When they walked towards the house, Mr Sergey came up behind Heero and patted his shoulder. Heero tensed and barely repressed an instinctive reaction. �Don�t worry�, Sergey muttered, �You�ll make a good shepherd. A lot of farmers keep sheep solely for wool and milk production. And if they do get too numerous you can always sell them.�
Heero gave him a slight nod and followed Henry into the house.
*
In his dream, the herd was enormous, crowding the valley from one end to the other. He was looking for something just out of his reach, squeezing his way through clusters of white sheep, trying to find a delicate balance of not hurting them but neither being hurt by them.
He kept glancing towards the edges of the valley. The wolves were not there yet, but soon they would have to be. It was always like this. Keeping an eye on the wolves suddenly became more important than his search.
All of a sudden he discovered Relena standing between the sheep. She was clad entirely in white, with a soft tunic over loose trousers and a headdress of beads, nacre and small white ribbons. The image was beautiful, and yet, she was not what he had been looking for.
�Why all those sheep, Heero?� she asked softly, melodiously. �What are you doing here?�
�I have to guard them�, he answered. �There are wolves out there.�
Relena sighed softly and shook her head. Then she smiled at him, warmly. �Heero. They do not need a guardian. There is peace now.�
Heero turned around slowly, trying to overlook the valley, watching as cluster after white cluster made its way over one of the mountain passes, out into the world where there supposedly were no more wolves. He could not quite believe it.
�Then what am I to do, now? Whom should I protect?� Heero wanted to know, turning back to her.
�Why do you have to be a protector, Heero?� she whispered. �We don�t need you for protection anymore.�
�Do you need me for anything else?� Heero wanted to know, softly. She laughed. �Find out for yourself, Heero�, she told him, then gave him a smile and left with the last group of sheep.
Heero�s eyes followed her until she had vanished from his sight, then he looked up at the mountain towering over the valley.
�Don�t look for me up there�, a low voice murmured next to him. When he turned his head he saw Duo standing there, grinning at him. �I�ve long come down from there. Just got lost among all those sheep.�
�I must have been looking for you then�, Heero answered.
Duo tilted his head. �I guess so. I can be hard to find, sometimes.� Then he stretched out his arms and stared up at the sky. �The clouds look like sheep, Heero. But they�re only passing�� He laughed quietly and began to spin around himself in a circle. Mesmerised, Heero could only watch.
The sky turned lavender and the clouds became stormy blue.
The dream ended but it stayed vivid within Heero�s mind.
*
Dark clouds were hiding the sun from view even as a hot wind caressed Heero�s skin, promising a thunderstorm about to come. A small group of twenty sheep was grazing nearby, undisturbed. �Walk up�, he murmured in a low but well-audible voice, and instantly a warm body moved from his side towards the sheep.
The blades of grass were rippling softly with the breeze, their ends were just tickling his bare feet beneath the hem of his jeans. He watched the movements of the dog as it approached the peaceful animals.
�Sometimes you have to be the wolf to make them realise what they should fear�And sometimes I need to be the pack leader to make things work��, Heero whispered to himself, an echo of instructions given a long time ago, an echo of realisations having come to his mind upon carrying out those instructions. Then he raised his voice above the breeze. �Come-by�
The dog followed the clearly-uttered order without hesitation, drawing a circle around the sheep, barking here and there if one of them did not react, even growling in threat at the most stubborn of outliers. The white throng began to crowd, and when Heero gave a loud whistle, it began to move towards him as one.
�Get back�, he instructed the dog to give the sheep more room to move. This time the brown sheepdog did not react immediately, too caught up in his task. A low, dangerous growl left Heero�s throat, signalling the authority of a pack leader every member of the pack had to obey. The dog ducked for a moment, then allowed the sheep to move more freely.
Their way from one pasture to the next took them no more than fifteen minutes. Once having reached their destination, the small group of sheep joined their comrades that had already been waiting there. Heero was careful to train his dog with smaller groups to avoid the risk of losing track of what the brown crossbreed was doing.
�That�ll do�, Heero ended the dog�s task with the formal words used for the occasion, and his companion willingly followed the invitation to run towards Heero and throw him off his feet with a hard push of his strong paws. Used to the game, Heero pulled the dog down with him. They wrestled on the ground for a few minutes, growling at each other, sounds laced with the occasional bark or yelp. Finally Heero�s war-trained strength won out and he trapped the sheepdog beneath his body, teeth bared as a true pack leader would face a youngling.
Wisely, the dog exposed his throat to him in a gesture of submission, an old reflex gifted to his race by nature. Heero moved back and waited for the dog to leap to his feet again. Then he ran his hand over the young animal�s head, stroking the soft fur and thus rewarding him for his work with the sheep.
Heero sighed into the wind and looked up to ensure that the sheep were safe from the storm in this rocky, closed off area, shielded by the mountain. The dog licked his face affectionately.
�Baka�, Heero said softly. Then he smiled as the warm summer rain began to fall.
*
When the shearers arrived, Heero was repairing the roof of the newly built barn. It had taken him almost three weeks to complete it, ironically almost as long as the repairs on his own house had lasted half a year ago. Last night�s storm had eliminated a good part of his work there only a few days after it had been completed. He did not mind for he enjoyed sitting on the roof. There was always a fabulous view of the mountain, of the small path he had taken down from there.
They were men of Henry�s age, two shearers and two shed hands, and there was no doubt they knew their business. Heero took his time climbing down from the roof and greeted them formally, a little stiffly. One of the shed hands laughed awkwardly and managed to end the uncomfortable moment. Imitating his own visit at Henry�s farm Heero served drinks and subtly hinted at food waiting after a hard working day.
Henry, despite the initial impression, had been ready to help whenever Heero had needed advice during the first two months of his new occupation. As usual, Heero would not settle for limited knowledge but would seek out the tiniest scrap of information on the subject. Since it had also been Henry to set the date for the lambing season at the beginning of October, he had generously ordered the shearers to Heero�s house well before that time.
Soon the four men stood and Heero led them into the barn. Remaining behind, he approached the pasture and whistled sharply. A soft bark answered him from the other end of the meadow. None of the sheep looked up for it had not been the whistle usually calling them when it was time to move on.
Two sheep at a time the dog separated from the flock upon his orders, and Heero led them on to the barn. The herd soon grew nervous because of the decrease in numbers and the imminent danger from the building. Shepherd and sheepdog had to muster all their newly-gained abilities and the last sheep initiated a five-minute chase only to ultimately be grabbed by Heero and carried to the barn.
When the four workers left � not before having gratefully accepted the meal served in the living room - Heero was sitting in the grass and patting the dog�s head resting in his lap. �Good wool�, one of the men complimented, accentuated by a small slap onto Heero�s shoulder, who was glad he had seen the movement coming and had stilled his hands before they had been able to become weapons again. �You work well together, you and your dog. Almost as if you had been a team all your life.�
�Thank you�, Heero answered quietly, and his eyes were fixed upon the mountain peaks. �You work well together, too�, he added as an afterthought.
�Ah, we�re brothers in arms�, the second shearer drawled, clicking his shears, and the four of them laughed together. Heero�s eyes widened slightly. There was laughter coming from the mountain, distant but rich and lively, and so familiar.
A tense silence followed when Heero neither joined into their cheerful banter nor took his eyes off the mountain range. �Well�Sergey will pick your wool up tomorrow�, the shed hand concluded before they climbed into their car and left.
*
Heero had never bothered to name his sheep, but he did recognise the slight differences in them, could tell one from the other. Their differing attitudes and habits were increasingly obvious the more he watched them. Their mood swings made him inventive when it came to convincing them to follow his wishes. They were a lot like human beings, in a very basic way that made it easy to act and react. Conversation was not needed which simplified the learning process immensely.
During the later part of September it became important to closely watch the pregnant ewes and check on them separately. Heero took his task very seriously, researching the subject on the internet whenever he had the chance. Driving to town with Sergey he purchased grains to add to the normal diet of his ewes. Meticulous in measuring them he prepared lambing cubicles within the barn.
Most of the ewes were Coopworth and Heero soon noticed that they did live up to their race�s reputation. He would check on them four times a day, prepared to assist whenever there would be troubles occurring during the process of birthing. But most of them allowed themselves to be lead easily into the lambing cubicles when they showed signs of restlessness or even visible indicators such as the shifting of the uterus or easily recognisable contractions.
Then Heero would wait patiently, occasionally stroking the sheep�s belly. He slept very little during those days, keeping watch almost twenty-four hours a day. Within the course of ten days twenty-five ewes were coming down. Whenever he was in the barn Heero would entrust the rest of his herd to his dog.
He watched the ewes lick the newborn lambs to stimulate their breathing and circulation, watched the small creatures stand on wobbly legs or discover their mothers� milk for the first time. Never before had he had a part in the creation of a life. Carefully he would then cut the umbilical chord, would make sure mother and newborn were comfortable, warm and well-fed.
On the ninth evening of the lambing season, Heero noticed that one of the ewes was missing. The bar closing the door which he had thought just the right height to be out of reach to a sheep had been pushed aside. He knew the missing ewe well, her black face that warily sought him out from the fringes of the herd.
Carefully he put the bar back into its place and began his search. She had not had much time since he had last checked on the ewes. Sure enough he found her close, down by the river where she had ducked into the protective den beneath the willow trees, creating a warm nest for her birth. She had been the first to reject the cubicles he had built, and that fact had Heero all the more intrigued.
He got up and retrieved his supplies from the barn where the majority of sheep was resting peacefully at the moment. The moon had risen high when he returned, it was waning and all that was left of it was a sliver of silver within the endless velvet of the sky. While he was sitting next to the parturient ewe he regarded the stars blinking through the branches and remembered the journey that had led him here.
The sheep lay next to him in companionable silence, only now and then labours ran through her body. Once in a while she would get up and pace the moonlit ground before returning to the nest.
�Do you understand circles?� Heero wondered. �Or do you just follow them as life draws them for you?�
The ewe turned her black face away from him, one of her hoofs pawed the ground impatiently.
�It�s been more than half a year, and I already dread the completion of the cycle. Continuing to lead a day-to-day life is hard when you know each day will be the same� Is it wrong to long for changes? For chaos and disorder?�
The stars wandered over the nightly sphere but there was no progress in the birth. Heero recalled what he had read about birthing problems on the internet and regularly examined the tightness of the cervix. When there were no signs of innate relaxation, he used water and soap to massage the inside of the cervix with two of his fingers. After a minute he finally felt muscles and skin loosening. He withdrew his fingers and indeed the cervix widened enough to allow the lamb to slip through. The ewe began to lick it but stopped after a while to drink a sip of water from the bowl Heero offered. Taking up her job he began to rub the newborn softly with a towel, careful not to disturb the ewe by doing so.
A hint of light appeared on the horizon with the promise of a new morning.
*
Sergey and Rosa had been right. The winters in the valley were long, hard and icy cold. Quietly watching the first snowflakes falling, Heero had given himself up to the forces of nature, had refused to fight them for the first time in his life, had allowed himself to be overwhelmed by their dangerous beauty, by their relentless raging.
Fires flickered within the tiled stove, kept alive by Heero�s busy hands and by the vast supply of wooden logs, cut and piled up all through the better part of autumn. Before the coming of the first snow Heero had expanded the barn to a size that could house, if need be, his entire herd. He had agreed to sell some of the rams after the birthing season, but he had been careful to at least not sell them directly to the slaughtering. Most of the time, though, the flock was outside, trudging the snow in the short hours of sunlight before returning to the barn at night.
Snowdrifts were now enclosing the house in a tight embrace of delusive warmth, but Heero was buried within one of his comfortable violet armchairs with his laptop, researching a new kind of nutrition with special grains to strengthen ewes and lambs during the colder season. Now and then he would glance up to watch the snowflakes dance outside of the window, in a whirl of white.
Finally Heero turned off his computer and reached for a book. The only sound within the house was the crackling of the fire, the only light the dancing flames. Outside there was the soft whisper of the wind and the occasional bleating audible even through the walls of the barn and the house. Suddenly there was a bark. Heero frowned at the door and put his book aside.
When he opened the door, snow was blown into his face. Wiping it from his face he looked down where the dog sat upon the doorstep. �Baka. What are you doing outside?�, he reprimanded quietly. The dog responded with a guilty waggling of his tail and an urgent whine. Heero frowned again and shielded his eyes from the snow to look over at the barn. His eyes widened.
The door of the barn was pushed wide open, the latch broken by the constant insistent tugging of the snowstorm. Heero did not bother with a jacket, merely slipped into his boots and closed the front door behind him without locking it. Barking excitedly, the dog followed his every step.
Once inside the barn Heero began to count frantically. The rams were complete. So were the ewes. The lambs had been closest to the door, playing in the warmest corner, the one directly adjoined to the house. And one of them was missing. Born to an adventurous mother, having inherited her black face, special from the day of its unusual and slightly problematic birth, it had become dear to the shepherd, probably dearer than all the others.
Taking a few minutes to bar the door securely once more, Heero contemplated the options. There were only a few paths cleaned from snow around his house, the fields were covered with snowdrifts far too high for a lamb to pass through. It was icy cold and the frost bit into the bare skin of his hands and face. �Go back inside�, he told the dog sternly opening the front door. His companion hesitated but upon Heero�s unwavering glare he whined and obeyed. �Good boy�, Heero told him quietly then grabbed a jacket off the rack.
The additional clothing did not help any. Bitter cold permeated all fabric and padding, piercing his very limbs with painful needles. The snow obscured his vision, leaving him with next to no sight further than ten metres ahead. He could not remember having felt this cold at any other point of his life, certain that his ears were going to freeze permanently, feeling an agonising burn within his feet and the reddened skin of his hands. Any count of time deserted him as he struggled on against the angry winds.
Something about the cold and the pain rose up to his head and filled it with cotton-soft numbness even as his lip all but split up with the frost and ice gathering upon it. The long white curtains of snow before him parted and made room for a slim human silhouette. Wide outstretched arms remained untouched by the snow, untouched by the cold. The clothes, black and white, were all but invisible among the endless layers of paleness and darkness in this moonless night. The silhouette was dancing.
�No�, Heero whispered thickly against the snow numbing his lips and tongue. �I can�t. Not now. I have to save the lamb.�
The figure vanished as he drew closer and he realised that he had left the path and was now stumbling through snow banks more than half a metre deep.
When he reached the sycamore trees it appeared again, the chestnut braid shining with the eerie remembrance of moonlight, like a fen fire, as it danced its own waltz separate from the body spinning around itself with a pale face turned up towards the sky.
�There is no time��, Heero mumbled clumsily. �I have to save them�The mission.�
The silhouette did not vanish this time for he had stopped amidst the snow, watching entranced. The spinning slowed until the dancer came to a halt and lavender eyes found his, smiling.
�You finally came?� he demanded in a voice broken and husky from the cold. �You found the way over the mountain? You decided to walk over its threshold?�
But when he took another step the familiar shape was gone as if it had never been there. Trying to shake it from his head and dismiss it as the illusion it was, he shielded his face with both his arms and went on, along the trail of the water pipes he had cleaned from ice and snow only yesterday. Again he lost his way, wading through the impenetrable snowdrifts until at last he reached the river. There, upon the frozen waters, Duo was dancing.
�Why are you so far?� Heero demanded from the respondent howling of the storm. The wind whipped harshly into his face, down his throat, and had him cough violently. His head became light and his feet were encompassed by a dull ache. �Why��, he croaked, ��can�t I find you now�after looking for myself for so long?�
Long hair was being coaxed from the tightly wound braid by the wind. Its owner was now standing still, facing away from him, waiting patiently. The frozen surface of the river looked inviting, polished silver with the gleam of eerie moonlight upon it.
A pitiful baaing erased the vision. Blinded by infinite white he followed the sound.
Later, when he was rubbing the lamb dry within his house, feeding it with the warmed milk of its mother and wondering if it was going to survive, he was unable to recall how he had found it, how he had been able to carry it back to his house.
In his dreams the fen fire captivated him once more. This time Duo stopped spinning to gaze at him. He remained standing upon the glinting ice as confidently as if it were solid rock.
�Why do you keep on dancing?� Heero wanted to know.
Duo smiled and the harsh storm whipped through his braid, loosening strands here and there which curled over Duo�s shoulder. His voice was clearly audible, though. �Have we ever done anything else, Heero? Anything other than this endless waltzing about, circling steadily rather than taking the few crucial steps which need to be taken? During the war it was necessary to be stealthy, to be careful. Now we should try a different dance. Don�t you agree?�
�You are always dancing alone, spinning around yourself�, Heero objected slowly, feeling slightly betrayed.
�It is an invitation�, Duo murmured, a sad note slipping into his eyes. �I wanted you to lead me because I think the new steps will come to you more easily. You always seemed to blend in so well at Relena�s dances�� Then the vision took a step towards him. �Ask me to dance, Heero�, Duo demanded.
But, as all fen fires do, he vanished with a quick laugh within the storm before Heero could do what he had asked.
*
And then he was there.
Spring had come and with the gentle blossoming of little white anemones the fen fires had left. Heero was not used to their absence, for almost daily they had been upon the snowy meadows and within the snowflakes, engraved into his dreams. Thus he thought it a harmless deception when he saw the dark spot moving upon the mountain path. It had been there a few times before and as of yet had never stayed visible for long. But the spot grew bigger and refused to dissolve into thin air.
Heero stood and watched. It took the black spot almost an hour to climb down from the mountain and another half hour to make its way across the meadows towards the formerly battered house. Along the way it began to take shape, began its metamorphosis into a human body, a familiar human body. By now sitting upon the doorstep, Heero watched until he could finally make out the eyes, directed upon him, unwavering.
Duo walked through the herd without disturbing the sheep, without even noticing them. They ignored him in return, with the exception of the black-faced lamb which approached him curiously. Stopping to bend down he patted the woolly head. From the other end of the meadow the brown sheepdog was keeping jealous watch.
Duo�s back straightened and his eyes met Heero�s again, targeting him like an innocent victim during the war. His gaze was alive now, machinery no more, shields removed. A few more steps and he was standing directly before Heero, no fen fire but so much more intense.
�Heero�, he greeted and his voice was a little deeper than Heero remembered. His appearance had not changed and although the priest�s outfit had been discarded black had remained the dominating colour. In contrast the playful grin still held the brilliance he had known a year ago.
�I�wasn�t expecting you today�, Heero answered slowly, feeling as if the ground beneath his feet had been pulled away.
Duo�s grin faltered only slightly. �Well, I hope you can still fit me into your tight schedule. I didn�t take that long journey for nothing. Besides I�m dying to see your house.�
Wordlessly, Heero stepped aside and held the door open for Duo. The dog had decided that Heero now needed more protection from the stranger than the peaceful herd outside and followed them into the house. He growled experimentally at the unexpected guest and sat down on the rug before the fireplace, ready to intervene.
Duo slowly spun around himself to observe the living room and Heero experienced an odd sense of d�j� vu. Then his former partner�s attention was directed back at him and he was surprised to see that his eyes had hardened with angry deception.
�Why didn�t you tell me?� he demanded.
Immediately the dog sensed the change in atmosphere and stood, growling and letting out a dangerous bark.
Never giving Heero time for an answer Duo exhaled harshly and continued. �You know, I would have been happy for you. So, who is she?�
�Who are you talking about?� Heero wanted to know, and Duo gave a loud mocking laugh that sent the dog into a fit of angry barking.
�You wouldn�t be married already, would you, Heero? Or just living together? Did you have a best man other than your best friend? Have I lost you already?� Duo�s questions rained down upon him like spring showers, albeit lacking their tenderness. They were brutal, sounded like the ripping of fabric.
The dog was still barking.
As if he saw it for the first time, Heero looked at his living room and understood. He had purchased two armchairs. Next to the table there stood two chairs as well. On the wall there were two sets of hooks for coats and jackets. The open door towards the bedroom showed two cupboards and a large double bed. His eyes fell upon the sink and absently he wondered when he had begun to cook a meal for two each day, to put a second plate and assortment of cutlery upon the table.
The dog was barking like mad.
�There is no girl, there is no one �� he tried but his words obviously lacked enough strength to overcome the visual proofs.
Duo was talking fast, angrily. ��No one would have thought it. Heero Yuy, the shepherd, Heero Yuy, hiding a girlfriend, Heero Yuy, lying, ashamed, afraid, Heero Yuy�.�
The barking drowned his flow of words.
�Shut up, Duo!� Heero shouted.
The dog had ceased to bark. Duo�s mouth hung open slightly but he too had fallen silent.
All of a sudden a great realisation seized Heero and he felt infinitely foolish. �I did not mean you�� he murmured. For a second there was complete silence. The brown sheepdog, clearly reprimanded, padded towards Heero and rubbed his head against his thigh, silently pleading for forgiveness.
He could see understanding on Duo�s face, the same realisation taking possession of him only a few moments ago. When Duo turned and fled out of the house, Heero did not hesitate to follow him.
*
The river was sparkling merrily with sunlight. Marsh marigolds gathered close to the banks, beneath the weeping willows, adorning them with their dark yellow glow. Duo, facing the water, fit into this picture as if he had been made for this moment, for this single image finely chiselled into Heero�s heart.
�Duo� he said softly.
�It�s all your fault�, Duo accused, stonily, refusing to look at him, �It�s your fault Relena�s been bothering me constantly about your whereabouts for the past year. It�s your fault I spent that damn year at the scrapyard. It�s your fault I gave it a go with Hilde and it�s your fault I broke it off again. It�s your fault she kicked me out. It�s your fault I��
�Duo�� he repeated, feeling that there were no words left for him, for everything had already been expressed, shown, revealed.
He took a step towards the other boy. Before he could react he felt strong hands upon his chest, pushing. Duo had become even more powerful than during the war. That was his last thought before his body broke the still surface of the river and he was enclosed by icy cold spring waters.
There was nothing graceful about the way he struggled out of the freezing waves until he stood within the river, wet from head to toe, small rivulets dripping from his dark bangs onto his face.
�Consider it punishment�, Duo said smugly, �Punishment for wasting an entire fucking year when you�ve actually been wanting me as much as I�ve wanted you. Punishment for driving me crazy because you never even tried to contact me. Punishment for having me die a thousand deaths thinking I had lost you forever.�
�I�m sorry�, Heero replied, dripping and trembling with the cold.
�I understood why you left�� Duo told him, �But �during the war�when you said you would survive for me�.I thought it was a promise.�
�It was�, Heero confessed softly. �I just thought we needed time to recover. When the war ended everything I felt was suddenly dim and unrecognisable. I was devoid of feeling when I left my position as Relena�s bodyguard�It�s not easy for a soldier to discover that he has needs, to understand them. I did not understand mine. I did not know when the time would come for me to fulfil my promise.�
�How could I have known when the time would be right? There has not been a single day of insecurity for me, Heero�, Duo answered. �Why didn�t you contact me when you found your way back to what you were feeling? When you had discovered life anew, as you put it in your letter, why didn�t you ask me to share it with you? I was waiting. I wanted you to take that step since it had been you who left in the first place, who apparently wasn�t ready for what was lying ahead. I wouldn�t have come looking for you if Hilde hadn�t thrown me out. When would you have come back to me?�
Heero did not answer for he could not think of an honest reply. Instead he held out his hand, wet with his shirt clinging uncomfortably to his skin. �Dance with me, Duo�, he said. It was a plea for forgiveness as well as an offer.
Sighing softly, Duo reached out for him, allowed him to pull him into the icy river. They embraced and within the cool wetness it was suddenly easy for Duo to press his lips against Heero�s cold throat, follow the watery trail up to his ear and towards the corner of his mouth.
They clung to each other as the force of their kiss knocked them over into the water. They shivered in one another�s arms, trying to find ground for their feet while they were still soaring. They were struggling to keep themselves afloat even as they were drowning within each other.
*
�What happens now?� Heero wanted to know when they were lying upon the hard ground of the riverbank, drying in the sun.
Duo shrugged. �We�ll see. I�ll stay here with you. And when we get bored we�ll find somewhere else, together.�
They were silent for a minute until Duo snickered softly. �First things first, though, you need to give your dog a new name.�
Heero shook his head, smiling. �He answers to Baka, usually.�
Duo turned a little so he was leaning on his elbow and grinned at Heero. �And does he sleep in your bed too?�
Heero mirrored his position and took his time to choose the right smile, amused, sincere, slightly teasing. �No. I wouldn�t want his hair all over my pillow. It�s too different from yours.�
The huge trademark grin melted into a wonderful answering smile and Duo closed his eyes, inhaling as if all the heady scent of the sycamore blossoms.
�Let�s dance then�, he breathed.
LYRICS
Spin You Around
by Puddle of Mudd
Come on over the mountain
And I�ll meet you at the otherside.
And if I saw you dancing
I would spin you around, spin you around.
Turn your world upside down.
If you�ll be my woman
I�ll take you to another high
And if you�ll be my lady
I�ll take you for another ride.
And if I saw you dancing
I�d spin you around.
Turn your world upside down.
I can turn you around,
I can turn around.
Maybe, baby.
I�m gonna spin you around.
Maybe, baby,
Upside down.
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