Notes: It's been a while since I saw the anime… pretty sure Duo closes his eyes while he's saying those words. I honestly don't remember if "I'm destined to be killed by you." (Ep. 19?) or "It was my destiny to be killed by you" hell's bells I don't even know if Duo *sez* those words. *huge sweatdrop* It's in first person (hate doing it cause *my* voice comes out more than the chara's but I think I did ok on it) and present tense (which I NEVER do b/c well.. I don't ^^;;) Be nice minna -_- Remember I'm a parody writer at heart *sweatdrops* BTW, the title's inspired by a song - which I was listening to while typing this up v^^. I found it pretty damned appropriate - lyrics at the bottom!

"It was my destiny to be killed by you."

Blue eyes lit with a cold purpose narrow on me, studying me. Honestly - I close my eyes and let a faint smile pass my lips - how long does Heero think normal people can withstand that look? Intense, searing, no nuances… Just one bright, glaring color of blue, cold for all their passion.

I don't know why I say it, but I realize I speak the truth.

Sometimes, I surprise myself, I really do. Who knew that the Maxwell tongue was so talented? (Bad jokes all aside) That phrase, sounding damned melodramatic and so unlike me… Well spank me silly and call me Sparky, but here I am alive and staring at Heero Yuy, pilot of Wing Gundam and the biggest walking, talking advertisement plate for heralding a return to spandex as a fashion necessity.

And he's killing me…

A little scrapper of a girl, all prettied up in a white sundress with a puppy straining at its leash just marched straight up to him and tugged at that green tank top he's so attached to. And quite clearly asked him in a high pitched voice, a hint of a toddler lisp still lurking, "Niichan, I'm lost."

And lord of lords and merciful father above, the look in his blue, blue eyes as he stared down at her wide hazel ones.

Really, he couldn't have looked more lost himself, clearly etched lines in that austere face just melting into the hazy profile of a terrified child.

Right now, the girl, who we later learned was Katie, scrunches up her features as she announces decisively, "Niichan, you're lost too." She tugs rather imperiously at his tank top, now in a firm a grip as the leash on her pet, and leads him towards me. "Let's ask this niichan; he could help us."

And I swear on my partner's new paint job, black - natch!, that my heart stops in that one piercing moment when he turns those lost eyes on me.

Heero, you're killing me.

We decide, well actually the impromptu head of the trio - quartet counting the puppy - I decide, to head towards the information booth, to page for Katie's parents. So here we march, me leading the foray with Katie dragging both dog and Heero in chubby fingers, her hold relentless.

And of course, Murphy's Law being as perverse as it always has been, the information booth is closed for the day. Immediately, I eye Katie warily, preparing for a tantrum of semi-epic proportions and run a frantic mental search for any snack stalls nearby. Instead, she adjusts her grip on both leash and Heero and graces me with a sunny, innocent smile. The light reflecting off her white dress and golden hair nearly blinds me.

I'm immediately suspicious. Call it intuition, call it my inherently wary nature, or better yet - call it the way it is - having used that same smile, Maxwell version of course, one too many times - I realize the immediate implications.

We've been had.

Then, I glance at Heero, and our surroundings, and at Katie's still beaming countenance.

"What the hell…" I smile and bow exaggeratedly low down to her. "M'lady, we are at your service." Surrendering, I extend both my hands to her. She promptly deposits the dog leash into one and grabs the other.

"Let's play." And we follow in her bubbly wake, like fishes looked bait, line, and sinker. Or something like that - fishing, much less fishing metaphors, having never been my forte.

We spend the rest of the day walking around the zoo, gazing at animals, eating too much sugar (which of course is never enough sugar) for our own good, and basically enjoying a day off for what it was. We, counting Katie, the puppy, and myself.

Heero, well… I find myself sneaking glances at him, especially when Katie touches him.

There is a slight tensing of the body, as if expecting some sort of retribution from tiny hands; a disbelief as those same hands demandingly tug him from place to place, or simply grab him out of sheer fun; there is a relief so stark that I catch my breath and have to turn away.

I'm missing something here. I know I am. But the day is warm, Heero is here with me… with us, and there's still sunlight left in the day. So I set questions aside - if I'm entitled to my secrets, so is he - and set out to make this one for the books.

"Heero… I've missed you." The soft, feminine voice, coated with sincerity and longing, stuns me no less than it does Heero. We pause on our way to dinner; I am a few steps behind him. Admiring the view? Who me?

Then I see her, Relena. She's bathed in a glow from the hazy light of the sun, proving the perfect complement to the soft, happy look on her face. Gods above, I hope I'm not that painfully obvious.

Then I see him, Heero. And its enough to make my head spin and to leave me reeling…

And dying…

'Cause there's that look again, the look Katie shocked out of him that day so many months ago. Sure, it's only a shadow of the original, and he covers it up quickly, efficiently as he could not that day.

But it's there, and I see it.

And Relena… She's damned sharp in some ways, equally dense in others, and this is one of those times. She misses that look all together.

But something presses her on, something encourages her to step forward and hesitantly place a well-manicured hand on the soft fabric of his white shirt. And if not from Heero, than from who? Relena, taking no reaction as agreement - who knows she may be dead on - grasps his arm fully way and leads him towards her monstrosity of a pink limo. Heero's white school shirt and Relena's own white sun dress give off a glow which is so unearthly and so right at the same time.

Heero follows her lead, never slowing or hastening his steady pace.

Though he does turn once to pierce me with an unreadable look, well to me unreadable - who knows? Maybe he's asking me to save him some yakisoba buns for dinner. Then he turns and he's gone.

And me? I'm dying and the bastard who's killing me just drove off into the sunset with the golden princess.

I squint into the same sun that framed Relena so perfectly and get black spots for my effort. Does this make me the defeated bad guy tossed over to rot or the comic side kick left behind? I rub at my chest absently.

It hurts.

I turn and walk away, away from the brilliant, painful light of the sun and into the shadows that soothe me.

I once read somewhere that it's a series of little deaths before leading to the big one and that creeped me out more than anything else.[1] Small steps, small deaths, in a string of 'em leading to the big jump, fall, whatever. Pieces of you gone and disappearing into a pitch black void until there's nothing left, and you don't really care if you live or die in the end.

Waiting for him, forever waiting for him, I think I caught a good long glimpse of what its like.

I'm lurking at one of the tables in the back of this little bar. The mournful call of the new age jazz three piece is a fuzzy sort of counterpoint to the pace I'm slamming down the drinks. And I'm sinking deeper and deeper into black. The note Heero sent me is propped upon the damp surface of the small table, edges wilting with moisture, the stark black ink smudging and running into the white of the paper.

The door to the bar opens, and Heero steps into the sickly yellow light up front, briefly pausing… as if hesitating.

Hesitating? Heero? Hah, more likely checking out escape routes and what not… which he's probably memorized before hand. Not that I haven't as well - though a large provision hinges on the fact that I'd be able to run much less crawl to the nearest handy exit.

He steps out of the muted glow and heads towards me, towards the black.

"Duo." My name wakes me from a light, blissful doze. I blink sleepily and turn my head slowly to the side, wincing as loose strands of hair are caught under my shifting body.

I freeze.

Heero is seated on my bed, dappled in shadows and light from the sun streaming through the blinds. My eyes are fascinated by the shadows that linger in the curves and lines of his nude body. They seem to absorb the light surrounding them.

"Duo." He calls my name once more, and finally I look up, tearing my eyes away reluctantly and settle on his face.

And I can't look away.

That strange, unreadable expression which was my last memory of Heero Yuy, well other than his departing, traitorous backside (Bitter, moi?), is suddenly exposed.

The ability to elicit that lost look which I so envied - in both Relena and Katie - was not in me. I couldn't get that open, painful expression on his face, though to be honest I didn't particularly try.

*This* look was freely given.

His face is content, almost relaxed. The sharp, harsh light of battle in his eyes no longer consumes them. I can make out the different shades of blue, how one eye is lighter than the other. They are darker, lit with no terrible purpose but mellow as they look at me with contentment and a hint of desire.

I try to speak, to say something which will break this fine, silent tension between us. My lips move, my throat works, but no words emerge. I try again and again I fail.

This breaks the silence in a way I wasn't quite expecting. Heero lets out a small puff of laughter. "Finally, Duo Maxwell rendered speechless."

A fine time for him to develop a sense of humor, and my narrowed eyes tell him so. He lets out that rusty, chuckling tone once more, sounding so stiff and strange from his lips, feeling so right to my ears and heart. Letting out an exasperated sound of my own, I stick my tongue out and turn around, intending to gather my dignity and hair into some semblance of order.

Bad idea.

Heero is fully on the bed and tumbling me to the mattress in a single, swift movement. Then I realize - I'm naked; Heero's naked, we're in bed.

Good idea.

And then he smiles, all right more like lifts the corners of his mouth before letting them settle like dead weight on his beautiful face. His eyes darken into an absorbing shadowy blue and damned if he isn't killing me again.

Only he's right there with me, wrapped around me, and inside me. And that makes all the difference.