Notes:  This was written because 1) we've been playing the same mix tape in the car for over a month, so I heard the song 17 dozen times, and 2) because I really wanted to find some nice 2x3 and couldn't, so I had to write some.  It's true vignettes, and it's sappy and sweet and made me happy.  :)
By: Shoori

When You Say Nothing At All

Life never ends up giving you what you expect, you know?

Lots of times it craps on you. People die, they leave you, you get hurt... Over and over and over again, you get hurt.

Then, when your losing streak has hit an all-time high, and you're about to throw in the towel for good...

Then, you get everything you've ever wanted.

At least, I have.

"Stop it. Just... don't! Knock it off. I'm serious, Trowa, don't say... "

"I haven't said anything," he points out calmly.

I feel myself flush. I was just working on the engine. I leaned down to tighten something, and when I came up, my braid didn't. And when I tried to reach down and untangle it, my sleeve caught on something else. Then my hairtie broke. And the shirt tore, and part of my arm went through it. And I leaned in further and sort of lost my balance, and...

Hell. It's a fucking mess.

I can't really see him, but I know he's laughing at me. He must be, how couldn't he? I mean...

I jump when I feel strong hands pulling on my shirt, tearing the already shredded fabric even more. At least I can move my arm now. Then I feel him reaching even further down, and there's a tug on my scalp.

I tense. I can't help it. Even after all we've been through, even though we've been together for a year, I'm still very... .protective... of my hair. And I'm sure he's going to have to tear it out... there's no way to get it loose but to break it off...

He's not saying anything, and I can't really see what he's doing from this angle, but after that first sharp tug, I haven't felt anything...

"Tro?" I swallow. "Just... just rip it out, man. I've got it all wrapped around something... "

He doesn't say anything, and I start to feel a little restive. I mean, I'm stuck in a fucking engine. Anyone could be watching.

"Tro? Come on, man, just... "

"There." There's no mistaking the quiet satisfaction in his voice. I straighten up quickly, and see him smiling at me, holding the end of my braid.

"It's fine," he tells me softly.

I grab my hair, and examine it. The ends look a little the worse for wear, and it definitely needs a strengthening conditioning treatment ­ not to mention a shampoo ­ but the shredded, bushy mess I was dreading is non-existent.

I look up at him, amazed.

"I wouldn't hurt your hair, Duo," he assures me softly, no trace of amusement or mockery in his eyes. He turns and walks away, back into the house, leaving me staring at his back.

He won't hurt my hair.

I gasp, startled, and come awake suddenly as I feel hands on my shoulders, shaking me firmly. My throat is raw... I must have been screaming out loud... .

I look up slowly, not wanting to see the derision that must be in his eyes, but desperate to see that he's really here, that it was just a dream, that everything is all right...

He's staring down at me, in the light from the open window I can see the concern in his eyes, and I'm not afraid any more.

Try as I may
I could never explain
What I hear when
You don't say a thing

He stares at me for a minute, then moves one hand up from my shoulder and slowly cups my cheek. His eyes never leave mine, as he gently strokes my cheekbones, my jaw, my chin. His fingers trace my lips, and unconsciously, I part them. His thumb rubs over them gently, then he pulls my face close to his and slowly, gently kisses me. I sigh into his mouth as his tongue rubs lightly against mine.

We kiss for a moment, then he pulls back, and lays back down, pulling me with him until I'm half laying on him, my head on his chest. He wraps his arms around me securely, and I feel his lips brush against the top of my head.

He holds me for a long time, until the horror of the dream fades away, and I fall asleep again, this time warm and safe and comforted.

I don't know how he does it. I don't know how he knows that I can't talk about it, that Duo who never shuts up can't bear to relate the dream, not there in the dark. I don't know how he knows I can't stand to hear false words of comfort, assurances that this thing that can never be fixed will be "all right."

I don't know how he knows. But he does. And he gives me...

I can't even express what he gives me. But it's the only thing that could ever, ever, get me to go to sleep again on a night when I've dreamed about Maxwell Church.

"Come on. Spill it," Quatre orders.

I raise my eyebrow at him as I take another swallow of beer. "Spill what?" I demand lazily.

"The goods," he says impatiently. "The news. What's up with you two?"

I grin. He's so damn nosy.

"Come on, Maxwell," he demands impatiently.

"What do you want to know, Q?" I grin, taking another swallow of beer.

"How's... how's everything going?"

I grin. "Oh... absolutely fucking wonderful," I drawl, smirking at him. "Indescribable. Mind-bending... "

"Not the sex," he snaps impatiently. "Have you told him you love him? Has he told you?"

My smile falters. We haven't... had that conversation. I mean... everything's been perfect, and I haven't felt any inclination to disturb the status quo...

I glance over, across the yard, where Trowa stands with Heero and Zechs and Wufei, showing them the dock we've built on the small lake on the edge of the property. It's a glorified pond, really, but it never dries up, and fish live in it, and you can swim in it, so it's a lake in my book.

"Duo? You haven't talked about that yet?" Quatre sounds horrified. Since he bullied Wufei into moving into the Winner mansion with him, and they adopted a little orphaned Chinese boy, he's turned into the world's most annoying den mother/relationship therapist.

"Duo, you need to talk about it! You can't ­ either of you ­ keep letting it slide like this! You need to know where you stand!"

I stare across the yard, Quatre's words washing over me. Maybe he's right. Maybe Trowa doesn't know how I feel about him...

My stomach tightens as I have another thought. Maybe he does, but hasn't mentioned it because... because he doesn't feel the same way. Maybe he doesn't want... permanence. Or maybe he just doesn't really feel that way about me...

He glances up, probably feeling my stare on him. His eyes meet mine, and our gazes hold for a minute.

Suddenly, his lips curve, just slightly, then more, and more still until he's smiling at me, grinning even. Even from this distance, I can see the warmth in the expression. I can't help smiling back, his joy communicating itself to me.

We just grin foolishly at each other for a while, I don't know how long, until Wufei smacks him on the back of the head and he jumps, returning his attention to the others. I shake my head slightly, trying to refocus, and return my attention to Quatre.

He's grinning smugly at me.

"What?" I demand a little defensively.

"You guys are just too cute for words," he assures me facetiously. The self-satisfied expression disappears, and he shrieks as I lunge toward him across the deck.

Cute! The God of Death is not cute, thank you!

"Do you ever miss the circus?"

Trowa looks at me, startled at the abruptness of the comment that broke the silence. The others have finally left, and we're sitting at the edge of our dock, our feet hanging over the edge, dangling in the water. The sun has just gone, and the horizon is still light with that blue light that comes with the end of twilight.

"Sometimes," he answers honestly after a moment's thought.

I look away, staring at the ripples in the lake.

"Are you... going to go back to them?" I ask, hearing the sharpness in my own words. I have to be sharp... otherwise I'd probably beg him not to go.

He's silent for a long time. Then, unexpectedly, I hear him chuckle.

My head snaps up, and I glare at him. What's so god-damned funny? I open my mouth to yell at him, but he speaks first.

"Not until you get over your fear of clowns, Duo," he assures me a little whimsically, grinning.

Now I'm annoyed for another reason entirely. "I'm not afraid of clowns!" I yell.

He raises a brow at me.

I flush. "That guy with the weird head thing on just startled me," I insist defensively. "I didn't know he was there. And... "

He doesn't say anything, but the grin widens.

"I'm not afraid of clowns," I maintain stubbornly.

"Of course not," he soothes. His voice is almost expressionless, but he's laughing at me. I know he is.

"I'm not," I insist. "I'm with you, aren't I?" I point out triumphantly. There! That totally refutes his argument!

I gasp, surprised, as I suddenly find myself on my back on the dock, with him straddling my hips.

I freaking love being with an acrobat.

"Yes, you are with me," he agrees softly. "And that's why I'm not with the circus."

I stare up into those gorgeous green eyes so close to mine, and can't mistake the sincerity there.

He's not going to choose the circus over me.

Of course not. He's not an idiot.

"Trowa! God, Trowa, Jesus... " I clench the fabric of the sheets as hard as I can, twisting the material as I pull on it. My hips arch higher, higher, trying to get even closer to that wonderful, wonderful mouth that's torturing me so wonderfully...

He makes an inquiring sound, and I moan as I feel the vibrations reverberate along my aching length.

I scream again as he suddenly sucks on me hard, and still more pleasure roars through every nerve ending in my body.

"Trowa... .please, Trowa... I can't take it anymore." I writhe beneath him, trying to twist away, to pull away from him. It's too much, too intense... I can't take any more, can't stand the pleasure so immense that it's threatening to sweep me away from myself, to pull all control away from me...

"I can't, Trowa!" I shout. "I just can't. I have to... "

I moan, as his mouth pulls away, leaving me aching.

"You can," he tells me firmly. I force my eyes open, and stare up at him, seeing the strength and determination in his eyes. "You can," he repeats more softly. "Just let go, Duo," he urges gently. "Just... let me... "

He grasps my hips more firmly, and moves his mouth over me again, and I scream again...

But I don't fight him anymore, even when the pleasure is so intense I can do nothing but feel, even when the haze clouds my vision, and the pounding of my heart fills my ears, and I can feel nothing but his mouth on me...

Dimly, I'm aware that I scream as the pleasure peaks, as it erupts in an explosion more intense than anything I've ever felt...

Then I'm not aware of anything at all... except for his hands on me, holding me firmly, keeping me from drifting away on this cloud of pleasure forever.

Keeping me safe.

A long time later, I open my eyes, and he's staring at me. A small smile curves his lips, but I'm too exhausted to smile back.

"Tro... that was... "

He leans in and presses his mouth to mine, stopping my words. He's right. Words are unnecessary now.

He pulls away, and pulls me into the curve of his body, and I fall asleep listening to his heart beat.

I don't realize until the next morning that he never came himself. He never even mentioned it. It was all... for me.

"Agent Maxwell! You never filed a 611A with that last case!"

"Duo! Where we going on Friday, man?"

"Agent Maxwell? Where's your analysis on the new series 14 prototype?"

"You must be kidding! I'm not going anywhere near that machine, Maxwell!"

"Come on, Duo. Where's my stapler? I know you took it... "

"... could at least make another pot of coffee if you finish the last one... "

"So, what do you think? Should Wufei and I start Ling on solids yet, or wait another month or so?"

"So, then she calls me and tells me that if I don't leave her brother for her, she'll get us all fired... "

"If the six of you don't mind, this is supposed to be a place of business... "

"Monkey business, right Agent Maxwell? Monkey business? Like, messing around and... "

"Shut up, rookie! Now, Duo, what do you think about... "

You know, I love all my friends, like my colleagues, enjoy my job. But man, it's hard being the social one sometimes. You never get a minute alone.

[cont]