Author: pyrzm
see ch. 1 for warnings, notes, disclaimer

Broken Warriors + Chapter 15
01 To 03, Over

As Heero and Duo crossed the street to the hostel, they were surprised to see Quatre burst through the front door and practically run off down the sidewalk in the direction of the park. His biker jacket was unzipped, exposing his bare chest, and his sneakers weren't tied. He was already out of sight around the corner when Trowa ran out, wearing nothing but a pair of half buttoned jeans.

"Quatre, come back!" he shouted, looking around wildly. Heero and Duo hurried over. "Did you see him?" he demanded breathlessly.

Heero pointed. "That way."

"What the hell happened?" asked Duo.

"We had a fight," Trowa muttered, dragging his fingers back through his bangs. Instead of following Quatre, he turned and stalked back upstairs, but not before Heero read the mix of worry and anger in those green eyes. Judging by Duo's dumbfounded expression, this was not a normal occurance between the pair.

"I'll take our runner," Duo said, striding off in the direction Quatre had gone. "You go sit on Trowa until I drag him back!"

Heero climbed the stairs slowly. He agreed with Duo's logic in such a division of labor, but he did not relish confronting Trowa in what he guessed were embarassing circumstances.

Trowa's room was next to Duo's. Finding the door slightly ajar, Heero nudged it open and took a cautious look inside.

"Heero." Trowa remained where he was, staring out the window, long arms locked across his chest. Black bands of some abstract pattern ringed each bicep, accentuating the lean muscle there.

Heero unconsciously copied the pose, folding his arms as he leaned against the wall just inside the door. As the silence stretched out between them, Heero studied his silent companion. Trowa had always been the tallest, but Heero had almost caught up with him. He didn't kid himself about his chances in a fight. Trowa's bare back and shoulders were lean and tightly muscled, rigid with tension. His stance gave a clear warning: Keep your distance.

On the other hand-- Heero's gaze drifted lower. The jeans were still not properly fastened and hung low and loose on those narrow hips, almost ready to slip off save for the slight swell of the buttocks just below. Trowa was browner now, with no sign of tan line, and had an intricate, multicolored tattoo across his lower back. It suited him and drew attention to--- Heero shook his head: don't go there. It's Trowa! Under different circumstances, however, it would make a rather alluring picture.

But this was not different circumstances. Trowa was his married friend and he had a mission. "Do you wish to talk about it?"


"All right."

Heero sat down just inside the open door and waited.


**Oh c'mon! You didn't really expect *these* two to fall into each other's arms and cry and share all their innermost secrets, did you? --P the Realist**

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