Warnings: More cursing and some admiration of physical assets. ^_^

Random inane notes: Duo and Wufei told me to tell you all that they-hey! Wufei, you can get your sword away from my throat. Right-o... a little less pressure please. Anyhow, neither of them agreed to this story and after it's finished (I think they just want to read it, but won't admit-ow! Wufei!!) they both intend to send me to meet my maker. ::falls over::

When Fallen Angels Fly: Part Two

In the space he had cleared in the dining room, Wufei moved with abounding ease, each precise slash, thrust, and arc having a purpose. It was like an elegant dance, the sword an extention of his arm rather than a separate weapon. His control and skill were so refined, that he never moved out of the invisible circle he had given himself as a boundary. And while he looked as if he was completely absorbed in the exercise, his senses were very in tune with the environment around him.

It was why he knew the instant he was no longer alone.

Rather than interrupt the rhythm of motion he had created either by stopping or speaking, he chose to continue the form. So well did he know it, that his eyes were closed and every movement flowed into the next like a never-ending river. One arm passed under the other as the sword flashed through the air, his legs crossing and pulling pleasantly at the muscles in his calves. His breathing was regulated through sheer will alone, the act of having been exercising for the last hour without break causing him no visible strain. The slight sheen of sweat across the bare portions of skin beneath his tank top was the only noticeable effect.

Watching from the doorway, Duo was oddly silent and subdued, admittedly more than a little awed at the contained strength and effortless grace Wufei presented. Since he was never out of bed even a moment before he had to be, he hadn't been up early enough to see Wufei practice before. For some reason, it presented a side of him that Duo had already known existed, but never actually considered. While aloof and oftentimes abrupt in person, and driven and relentless in his Gundam, a gentle vein ran beneath the hardened mask he presented. It was apparent that Wufei was unaware of just how much this art proved that, or he wouldn't be letting Duo watch him now.

He had known Wufei could move. He had seen him in action before. But this was somehow different. It had a beauty to it that made Duo feel as if he were intruding on a private moment. Especially considering that Wufei was going through the entire pattern with his eyes closed, leaving him open to scrutiny that he could not return. The only time Duo had ever seen Wufei with his eyes closed was when he stole into his room one night to play a prank on him and ended up with the tip of the other boy's sword planted in his throat. That had not been one of his better ideas.

When the exercise ended, Duo found he was disappointed. Surprisingly, it had nothing to do with the fact that he was soon going to have to make good use of these hours he would rather have filled with sleeping. No, it was because he had enjoyed watching Wufei. As a sharp contrast to himself, who was always using up excess energy moving, Wufei rarely moved unless necessary, and even then, he did it with a control that never used more energy than was needed. To see him in constant, continuous motion was a rare thing that was not to be wasted.

"It is rude to lurk in doorways without announcing yourself," Wufei uttered succinctly, sheathing his sword as he lifted his head to pin Duo with his eyes.

Duo grinned in response.

The serious expression never leaving his face, Wufei ventured closer to the other pilot. Drawing his sword again in one swift motion, he settled the tip inches from Duo's throat before the other could even react.

"Who are you and what have you done with Maxwell? Not only are you up before noon, but you stood still for longer than a second."

Duo blinked, trying to decide whether or not Wufei was serious. The blade of that sword was awfully close to his neck... And here he had tried so hard to make certain he was never in this position again.

"You look worried," the Chinese boy asserted, his lips curving barely enough to equal a smile as he slowly pulled the sword away.

Wufei had the damnedest sense of humor.

"In any case, you haven't answered my question," Wufei pointed out, turning from him to lift a white cloth from the table and draw it across his forehead.

Right. Time to unscramble his marbles.

"You said to do something constructive with my time. So here I am."

Wufei was unable to keep the surprise from his expression as he swung back around to regard Duo in stunned silence. The boy had forgone five hours of sleep so that he could exercise with him? That was not the Duo Maxwell he had come to know. But then, he knew he shouldn't be all that shocked. The American pilot was constantly throwing out pieces of himself that seemed to have no relevance to the image he presented. Wufei realized, however, that he did not consider the smiling baka to be the real Duo. It was only one of the many facets that made up his personality. And the need to confound everyone around him at every turn was only one of his many charms.

"You want to practice with me? You don't even know how to use a sword properly," he added in evident dismissal.

He had not expected Duo to take him _this_ seriously. Leave it to the braided menace to be frustratingly selective.

"So teach me! I learn quickly."

Duo had him there. The boy was a quick study, and you generally only had to show him or tell him something once before he picked it up and began working like a professional. That adaptability was part of what made him such an excellent pilot.

His entire manner seemed to suggest he considered this a pleasant way to spend a few hours, and get on Wufei's nerves all in one shot. Admittedly, Duo was far better at annoying Wufei than the latter would ever voice. There was nothing that said Wufei had to make it easy for him this time, however. Duo found himself so amusing. By the time Wufei was done with him here, he would be far from laughter.

The Deathscythe pilot had to admit that the best part about this already was Wufei's loss of composure after having been informed of his reason for being up at the ungodly hour of 7am. It would be well worth whatever hell the Chinese pilot would put him through here. Though Duo really couldn't see how hard it could be to wield a sword. Sure, he wasn't going to have all that much skill yet, but he didn't feel like he needed to compete with Wufei on that score. He would probably only have to swing a hunk of metal around for a few hours to please the other boy. Wufei was patient, but Duo seriously doubted he was patient enough to keep at this until he had taught the him some semblance of grace with the blade.

"Fine, then. Take your pick," the black-haired boy answered after a few moments of contemplative silence, indicating to the display of sheathed swords resting on the table.

Swallowing a yawn, Duo trudged past Wufei and began admiring the extensive collection his friend had cultivated. Some were longer than others, some were curved, and some were straight. While he could plainly see that they were all different in small ways, he didn't have the first clue about deciding which of them was better to suited to him.

Preservation won out over pride. If he was going to be doing this, then he might as well be doing it right.

Flashing Wufei a smile, he said, "Are you sure you want _me_ picking the best one? I mean... they're _your_ swords and I wouldn't want anyth-"

He was abruptly cut off as Wufei strode up to the table, eyes passing over the swords and Duo without having really seemed to do so at all, and promptly shoved one into his hands.

"It is better for beginners."

Duo bristled at the way Wufei said beginners.

"Hey, I bet I'll have moved on to a higher level or whatever the hell you call it with swords in no time at all. This'll be a piece of cake."

He was wrong. On both accounts.

_____________________________________________________________________________

Three sweat filled, back breaking hours later, they were still going at it. Wufei proved to be a stern taskmaster with a wicked sense of humor that made Duo's want to run and hide. It was painfully (in Duo's case) obvious that despite his fatigue at having been exercising for over four hours now, Wufei was highly enjoying himself. Yet, despite all of the mishandling of the sword and mishaps that went on in the first hour of training, (one such incident nearly rendering Duo braidless) Wufei was a surprisingly patient, effective teacher.

Duo's arms felt like two pieces of limp, overcooked spaghetti noodles. Every movement he made with the sword pulled on what he was certain was _every_ available muscle in his upper body. The last he could remember being this tired was when he got grand total of three hours sleep in two days time. He was convinced that if Wufei kept him working like this his arms were going to fall off altogether. Which, at the moment, wouldn't be an entirely unwelcome event so long as it kept him from having to wave this sword around any longer.

"No, not like that. You are letting your impatience get the better of you," Wufei instructed, cutting through Duo's guard as if it were made of nothing, and tapping the flat of his blade lightly against the other's cheek.

Duo stepped back. "That isn't impatience, Wu, that's fatigue. I'm dying here! You're a slavedriver."

Wufei relaxed his stance. "I'm trying to make these the most constructive three hours you have ever spent."

Allowing his shoulders to droop momentarily from the horrendous posture Wufei insisted he keep while learning (if he heard "quit slouching, Maxwell" one more time he was going to let Shinigami out on a rampage and wouldn't be responsible for the damages), he quipped, "You know Wu, just when I think you're the most boring guy in all the colonies, you let your sense of humor out and it knocks me on my figurative ass."

As if his real ass hadn't taken enough of beating...

Studiously ignoring Duo's comment, Wufei pulled himself up a bit tighter, acknowledging that even he was growing tired. This was beyond what he normally pushed himself, and then some, but the opportunity to put Duo in his place had been simply too good to pass up. As he had expected, Duo showed a natural aptitude for it. He had the lean grace and quick mind necessary to both manipulate the blade and make split-second decisions in the midst of battle. Both were skills that had been honed to near perfection, he knew, from being a Gundam pilot.

To be perfectly honest, he hadn't thought Duo would make it this far. It was clear the boy was holding up now by sheer will and tenacity alone. He lacked the upper body strength that came with many years of training, and though he was by no means weak, it was apparent three hours had made liquid of his muscles. But Duo's perseverance was one of the many things Wufei admired about him, even if it was sometimes an unnecessary by-product of pride. Duo was doing his best to keep up with him and learn something in the process and Wufei respected that by not being lenient. No matter what Duo may say, Wufei knew it wouldn't have been appreciated.

Duo had a whole new respect for Wufei. Not that he hadn't had one before, but it had become increasingly clear over the last three hours that Wufei was stronger than he had given him credit for. And he wasn't just talking about physical strength.

It took a great deal of mental control to effectively use a sword, and far more skill than it did to just pick up a gun and start firing. He had come to the conclusion that Wufei was the embodiment of reserve. Not just anyone could spend three hours sweating and putting up with him, and still look so composed. It also occurred to him that Wufei had to like him just a little bit. The black-haired pilot couldn't possibly be putting himself through this only to teach him a lesson.

"Quit slouching, Maxwell."

Then again...

Letting a long suffering sigh escape, he asked, "Aren't we done yet?"

"You wanted to do this," Wufei reminded him. "Now, move into position."

"Blah, that sounds like assume the position. Gonna strip search me, Wu?" Duo teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

Duo was more than a little stunned when color rode high in Wufei's cheeks, leaving the other boy's eyes snapping a sharp, hot black.

"Your manners leave some to be desired!" He retorted scathingly.

It was actually possible to embarrass Mr. Wufei 'made of stone' Chang?

Feeling more than just a bite being taken out of him at Wufei's tone, Duo fell back on his heels, a small part of him wondering if the thought of seeing him without his clothing was that detestable. But why did he even care? After all, the one he was most interested in seeing him without his clothes seemed to think he rated right up there with dust; somewhere below missions, Gundams, and laptop computers. Though... he hadn't thought of the Wing Gundam pilot overly much in the last day or so.

A distinguished pall had been thrown over the entire proceeding, and Duo was beginning to feel distinctly uncomfortable. He hadn't meant it any way other than a joke, but Wufei had taken such offense to it. Having Wufei use that tone on you, and lecture you about your manners was actually serious business. It was probably as close as the Nataku pilot got to saying 'fuck you'.

Usually, when Duo teased him, the most he got out of Wufei was an unamused stare and a dismissal of some sort, whether it be verbal or otherwise. To have Wufei get so upset over this one comment told him he had stepped over the invisible boundaries of friendship. For the most part, Duo plowed right through boundaries. But for some reason not quite clear to him, Wufei's reaction had hurt him. He had the overwhelming urge to be alone right now, so he could lick his wounds in private.

Smiling brightly, the act feeling as if it had been painted on, he said, "Hey, sorry man! I was just teasing. Guess I was a bit out of line."

Wufei stood stock still, an odd sort of pressure pushing at his chest from the inside out. He hadn't meant to react so severely. It was just that Duo's careless words had brought his newfound awareness of the Deathscythe pilot back in a violent rush. It was both confusing and unwelcome, because Wufei had already linked Duo with Heero in his mind, whether the two were actually together or not, and he had strong suspicions that this attraction of his was one sided. Besides, there was nothing productive about forming relationships between each other when they needed to be concentrating on what they were here for...

Why was that realization only half-hearted?

Grip tightening around the hilt of his sword, Wufei tried to push the image of fleeting hurt that had crossed Duo's face from his mind. He hadn't meant to cause the other pain. He had only been protecting himself, protecting Duo. After all, the American pilot hadn't meant it as anything more than a joke, Wufei was sure. The last thing Duo needed to know was that Wufei had, for one mind numbing second, taken that entire statement perfectly seriously.

"We are finished here," he said harshly, sounding like a bastard even to his own ears.

He needed to escape. He needed to flee to his room and his books, where he could remember why it was necessary to remain alone. It was the safer, cowardly route. But it needed to be that way.

Without waiting for an answer, he gathered up his weaponry, minus the sword Duo held, and left the other standing in silence, watching his retreating back with growing hurt and confusion.

"Was what I said so bad?" Duo asked of the air in a whisper that lacked all his usual color.

Letting his chin drop to his chest, he realized that he was still holding Wufei's sword. Absently, he ran his fingers along the blade, noting with an odd sort of detachment that it looked so new, while the handle looked so ancient. Wufei took good care of his swords. Wufei took good care of everything that belonged to him. Cobalt blue eyes widened slightly when that insight produced a wistful tug in him, a strange sort of longing... Since when had he even thought of Wufei in that manner? Heero... Hadn't he meant to think of Heero?

Duo was jerked rather violently from his tangled thoughts when he felt a sharp prick in his finger. Glancing down, he noted that he had reached the end of the sword. True to his penchant for never doing things half-way, Wufei had even sharpened this sword to the point of perfection. Whether it was accidental, or symbolic, this was just what Duo needed to clear his mind.

Slipping his bloodied finger between his lips, he grimaced at the bitter taste of copper as he soothed the sharp ache with his tongue. If only it were that simple to ease the ache created by Wufei's words...

___________________________________________________________________________

Wufei attacked the vegetables on the cutting board with a kitchen knife, wishing the act of violence would soothe the ragged edge of his nerves. Since that incident earlier this morning, Duo and he had been avoiding each other. They were doing remarkably well for it being such a small house. Now that evening had come, however, Wufei knew they both had to sacrifice their discomfort and eat. It would be ridiculous to starve.

He just wished he knew what to say to Duo. Somewhere over the course of the day, he had decided he owed the other pilot an apology. Duo had been innocently joking, and he had taken him far too seriously. He was worried that it would be too revealing. He didn't want Duo thinking that he was attracted to him, when the boy obviously cared for Heero. It would be more than a little mortifying. Never mind the fact that it was the truth.

"The vegetables were innocent. I was the one that made an ass out of myself."

Wufei spun around, knife in hand, adrenaline and instinct carrying him the first few seconds before his brain registered that it was only Duo. He was disgusted with himself for having been so lost in thought that the American boy had gotten past his guard, especially considering it had been him filling his thoughts and then appearing as if having been called. Because of it, he only stared for a few moments, wishing with every fiber of his being that he had not done so when he looked his fill.

Hot weather and Duo didn't seem to get along very well. So it was no surprise to find him taking cold showers during the day in an attempt to cool himself off. Wufei wished that today had not been one of those days. Duo carried with him the scent of vanilla and his hair, damp still, was hanging unbound, so that it fell down his back in a massive curtain of many dark hues.

Wufei couldn't grasp the significance of this. Duo _never_ went around with his hair undone in front of any of them.

When they had first met, Wufei had scoffed at the idea of a pilot, a warrior having so much hair. It had to be a nuisance in battle, and was probably nothing more than a vanity. But as he had gotten to know Duo, he learned by observance that the braid carried some secret importance to him.

They all had their things that gave them ties to something, anchors to reality. Duo just happened to wear his closer to his heart, in the form of his cross necklace and braid. Wufei had his books, Quatre those ridiculously huge goggles Rashid had given him, Trowa the half-mask that Wufei had seen lying on his bed while passing the room he shared with Quatre one day, and Heero, Wufei was certain, actually felt some tie to that laptop of his.

"Hey Wu, you gonna put the knife down?"

Wufei blinked, and slowly lowered the knife he hadn't realized was still raised.

While he was beyond nervous, it didn't show. Duo Maxwell had gotten very good at cultivating a cheerful, unconcerned mask. Inside, however, his stomach was a mess of knots. He still didn't know where he stood with Wufei, and it didn't help that they had been staying out of each other's way all day. That, combined with the fact that he _never_ let anyone see him with his hair down was waging hell on his health. He tried to console himself with the fact that it couldn't be helped, but it wasn't working out too well.

The exercise Wufei had put him through earlier had left him beyond sore, so that even the act of lifting his arms above his head hurt. Now, he knew he had more than the average boy's upper body strength because you had to have some if you were going to be in control of a Gundam, but the kind of fine control that sword fighting demanded, and the power, was more than even he could handle. Especially considering he didn't work out daily the way Wufei did.

What he needed was just a day or so without any strenuous activities for the ache to pass. In the meantime, however, he couldn't even braid his hair properly. He had tried five times already, before the choice words leaving his mouth told him he needed to seek help. The only problem there was, Wufei happened to be the only other person in the house.

Unaware that he was doing it, Duo reached down to twist the fabric of his pants, betraying his inner turmoil. Wufei, whose eyes missed little, caught the telltale action, and found the strength in it to do what he needed to.

"I apologize," he said without preamble, his tone and posture stiff.

Duo blinked. "What?" fell out.

Wufei's jaw flexed. "I don't believe you need me to repeat it."

Duo bit back the urge to smile, knowing it would only succeed in pissing Wufei off. But the tightness in him lessened at Wufei's words, understanding that Wufei only said what he meant, and that apologizing was not something he did often or easily. But that didn't mean he would make it too easy. Wufei had hurt him... and one apology wouldn't erase that.

"For beating up on the vegetables, you mean? I'm sure they appreciate that, but it can't bring them back now."

Dark eyes narrowed slightly.

Duo wasn't disappointed. He had always known Wufei had a sharp mind.

"I had no right to abuse them in such a way. They didn't mean anything by their actions."

"Lying on the cutting board?" Duo couldn't help but interject, his lips twitching.

"Yes."

Was that the beginnings of a smile he saw on the Chinese boy's face?

"I'm sure they forgive you. They tend to do things without thinking."

"That is because they don't have brains," Wufei responded blankly.

Yes, that was the beginnings of a smile all right. The clever boy and his damned dry humor.

Duo moved further into the kitchen. "Can they help it if they were born with all beauty and no brains?"

The Nataku pilot snorted.

"I take it you don't agree?" Duo pursued, effecting a guileless expression.

Wufei stilled then, eyeing the 'vegetables' seriously.

After a few short, tense moments, he replied, "No. I agree."

As the Chinese boy swung away, Duo would have choked on something had he had anything to choke on. So he took to trying to fill his starving lungs with as much air as he could while his mind raced, trying to understand what exactly Wufei had just said.

"Hey Wu... did you just say I was beautiful, but stupid?" Duo managed to push past his suddenly dry lips, dropping all pretenses of their wordplay.

Wufei's shoulders raised, and his grip on the knife tightened. What was he doing? Telling Duo the truth. And there was a note in the American boy's voice, a pleading that begged Wufei to be kind.

"No. I said you were beautiful."

He might have been talking about a rock, for all the emotion there was in his voice. But something like hope blossomed inside Duo. He wasn't certain where it was going, but he wanted to find out.

"Thank you."

No answer. More vegetables lost their lives to the cause.

Duo gathered up his courage.

"Wu? Would you do me a favor?"

Wufei half-turned, knife in hand.

"I... I'm ashamed to admit my arms and back hurt like hell from all that exercise. Would you... braid my hair?"

Wufei's expression didn't change, but his heart leapt and twisted inside of him. Duo was offering him a chance to touch his hair, a chance to find out if it was as soft as he had imagined last night while trying vainly to sleep past the unwanted thoughts whirling in his mind.

For the first time since Duo entered the kitchen, Wufei looked directly at him. And was pulled into the endless blue of his eyes.

How weak he was...

"If you need me to."

Relief and excitement. "Thanks. Having all this hair is a bitch when it's not pulled back."

"Then why have it?" It was out before Wufei could stop himself.

Duo's smile suddenly became bittersweet, and instead of answering, he indicated to the knife. "You aren't coming near me until you put that knife down."

Wufei's lips curved slightly, and he set the knife aside, not knowing whether to be relieved that Duo had neatly side-stepped his question, or disappointed.

"Sit in a chair in the dining room."

"Dinner going to be okay?" Duo asked over his shoulder as he led the way.

"It is in the oven," was all the reply he got.

Duo quickly flipped a chair around, straddling it so that he could rest his arms and chin against the back, while giving Wufei easy access to his hair.

Wufei settled into his own chair, sternly telling himself that he was going to be very business-like about this whole thing. There would be no lingering. Duo would get the wrong impression. But then, wasn't that what he wanted? There was something stirring between them. He could feel it just along the edges. Both of them, it seemed, were too afraid to attack it head on. Which was just as well, he considered, as Heero and the others would be back shortly.

Combing his fingers through Duo's hair, he began separating sections of it, trying not to notice how cool and soft it felt against his skin. Being this close to him left Wufei smelling nothing but the vanilla conditioner the American pilot used. That would haunt him in his dreams tonight, he knew.

Closing his eyes against the pleasant tingles having Wufei's hands in his hair caused, Duo held back a sigh. This was happening too fast. Before he knew it, Wufei was going to be done, and he wasn't going to get to savor the feeling of his touch. For someone who became a fairly frightening opponent when he got inside Nataku's cockpit, Wufei could be incredibly gentle.

"There," Wufei said matter-of-fact, rising to his feet and immediately pulling the chair back to slide it into its place.

He was right. Too fast.

"Hey Wu-man, do I smell something burning?"

"Shit!" And he took for the kitchen at a flat run.

Grinning, Duo reflected on the fact that it would be worth Wufei's ire when he realized there was nothing burning, just to have gotten to hear him curse.