Sequel to Slow Like Honey
*Spark* - Prologue
by shanna seanachai
*she's addicted to nicotine patches she's addicted to nicotine patches*
*she's afraid of a light in the dark 6.58 are you sure where my sprak is*
*here. here. here.* ***Tori Amos***
With this heavy feeling in his stomach and his hair sticking to his
neck in a most annoying way, Wufei was pretty sure this was shaping
up to be an awful day. The early morning heat was bearing down on him
oppresively, and every bump in the road seemed to have been put there
expressly to bother him. He frowned, gripped the steering wheel harder,
and whiped the sweat off his face with his arm.
He wouldn't be out here, driving through this hellhole of baking asphalt
and dusty cliffs at three o'clock in the morning, if he wasn't such an
impulsive bastard. If he could have only kept his hands to himself. If
he only could have kept his mouth shut...
But what was the use of blaming himself for it again? What had happened
was over, and if he had not a shred of dignity left, he would just have
to deal with it.
"What do you dream about?"
I dream about a girl in white, and blood on my hands.
What do I dream about?
Lying face down in a large green field, dead of life, with only the barest
remembrance of flowers. Dirt under my hands as a I dig. Sweat sliding the
contours of my face, dripping into my mouth. Something hard beneath my
hands. Her face, and her arms, and her hair, mixed in with the dirt.
Trowa awoke to feel the hot path of sunshine on his face, teasing his
open. He yawned, uncurling his hands from the tight fists they'd been formed
in, and rolled over. He stretched one arm out and slid it over the cool
sheets, relaxed and sleepy and entirely easy with the idea that he had spent
the night in Wufei's arms. His apparent lack on self-conciousness surprised
him, he guessed, because of the firm denial of feeling he had instigated all
these years. But this equal parts giving and receiving that had ruled the
night brought him at ease.
Finally he sat up, stretching and pushing his hair from his face. He
hear the shower running, so that was probably not Wufei's whereabouts. He
was probably getting everything together before Trowa awoke, for thier
meeting with the other pilots. Maybe he was in the kitchen?
"Move out of the way!"
Wufei startled back into reality from his visions of death, gasped
involuntarily, and swerved sharply to avoid the truck that was coming at him
fullforce. The car squealed, and he gritted his teeth, his breath held back
in anticipation of a crash. The car missed the truck narrowly, then bounced
half hazardly off the road. Wufei stepped down hard on the break, trying to
pull the car to a halt, for the ground ended abruptly twelve feet before
him. The car stopped not to far from the edge, but tilted, tipped and fell
over on its side. Wufei felt a sharp pain in his head, and then everything
Trowa sat in the kitchen, his arms folded on the formica table in front
him. There was a sense of foreboding looming behind him, destroying the
sunny, light feeling that he had woken to this morning. The fact that Wufei
was nowhere to be found did not put this feeling in check. Trowa had the
vulnerable ache of someone who had been lied to, and the desperate panic of
someone who knew the future had much darkness in store ahead.
*Spark* - Part One
by shanna seanachai
*she's convinced she can hold back a glacier but she couldn't keep baby
*doubting if there's a woman in there somewhere - here. here. here.*
The dark squatting inside Wufei's head was beginning to be shot through
with reds and
greens and other colors - and he became aware of motion, a swerving, curving feeling
that made him feel slightly sick. Noises began to permeat his brain - wind rushing by
a window - people talking - a horn beeping - and then he recognized that had been
so constant that he hadn't notcied it at first. A siren.
Oh, gods. You're in an ambulance.
His heart stopped for a moment. They might recognize him and turn him
in as a wanted
terrorist; he could be wounded badly enough that he could be out of commision for
months! What had he done? Endangered the mission, endangered himself, because he hadn't
been paying attention. Stupid!
Wufei tried to open his mouth to speak, but to his horror, he found he
move his lower jaw. Dear gods - was he paralyzed?
He cracked one eye open. The light was so bright he hissed in pain and
tightly shut at once. This action was followed by pain that spread slowly threw his
skull, making him groan through his clenched teeth. He felt a cool hand on his forehead.
"Don't try to move, sir," the voice that was attached to the hand cautioned. "You have
bad lacerations down the left side of your face and your lower jaw has been impacted.
We've had to immobilize it until we arrive at the hospital. Now we are going to give
you a sedative. Everything will be fine."
Wufei wanted to protest, but he felt the sharp prick of a needle in his
arm, and then
the dark came to greet him again.
Trowa pushed the last of his belongings into his knapsack, working quietly
efficiently. His face was impassive and unreadable, but in his mind he was turning
and returning the events of the previous night over and over.
"What do you dream about?"
Words so innocently put, provoking such a strange response.
"She's always in my dreams," he'd whispered. "Dead or
alive, it doesn't matter.
Always there, and with the baby in her arms -"
"Who? What baby?"
Wufei had leaned his head back on the pillow. "I was fourteen when
Far to young, but our colony had a low birthrate, and it was imperative to
keep our line going. When OZ attacked, she never gave a single thought to what
she was doing - not only to herself, but to me, and to the b - " He shook his
head and put one hand over his eyes. "She'd told me the night before, you see.
That she was pregnant. Never had the time to tell anyone else..."
Trowa's eyes had been growing progressively larger and larger. "Oh,
He reached out tentatively and touched the toher boy's arm. "How did she...
how did she die?"
Wufei moved closer to him, and gripped Trowa's arm, pulling it towards
own face. "She was killed in battle. She died honorably. I've lived for her
ever since. Her and - the child...." his voice dropped off into a whisper.
Trowa looked at him, taking in every detail. The pale skin, made paler
dark eyebrows and dark hair spread out over the pillow. The half-slitted eyes
that seemed none the less large and luminescant, and the full soft lips, which
he leaned down to kiss. Wufei made a soft choking sound and slipped his arms
around Trowa, pulling his lover full flush against him, and pushing his face
into the crook of Trowa's neck.
"Where's Wufei?" Duo took the bag from Trowa and threw it in
the backseat of
his jeep. Trowa looked up, startled.
"You haven't seen him? He didn't get here before me?"
Duo raised an eyebrow. "No - why? He stand you up or something?"
but stopped when he detected the serious look on Trowa's face. "Well," he
sighed, "he probably just decided to make his own way back. Maybe decided to
pay a visit to his girlfriend!" He laughed again, and Trowa frowned so fiercly
at him that Duo went red in the face. "Boy. You sure don't have a sense of humor
As they drove to the safehouse where the others were waiting, Duo chattered
aimlessly for awhile, until, dwarfed by Trowa's solemnity, he slid into an
uneasy silence. Finally he looked over to Trowa, giving him a quirky smile.
"Don't be worried about Wufei. He can take care of himself."
That's what I am afraid of, Trowa thought.
*end part one*
*Spark* - Part Two
by shanna seanachai
*say you don't want it again and again but you don't don't really mean it*
*say you don't want it this circus we're in but you don't don't really mean it*
*you don't don't really mean it*
Wufei slowly unwrapped the bandages covering the side of his face and winced at the
reflection staring aback at him in the mirror. He'd really done a number on himself -
there was probably going to be permanent scarring. The doctors had tried to console
him with promises of plastic surgery, but Wufei had waved them away. What did it
matter? His facial characteristics had nothing to do with piloting a gundam. His jaw
ont he other hand, was quite a liability at the moment. Using modern technology, the
surgeons had reconstructed his jaw bone, and he was taking drugs to speed the healing
of the bone, but in order to keep himself from damaging the bone, he had to wear a sort
of brace around his mouth for awhile. This, of course, made eating impossible and
communication a hassle. He had to be fed intraveniously, which blew away any hopes he
had of getting out of the hospital quickly. Still, this torment would soon to be done;
the doctors said his jaw was almost as good as new. At least they had not recognized
him as a wanted terrorist. The name he had given them, Adam Yung, was an alias he had used before - in fact he luckily had some of the identification backing this claim had in
his car, so he had no worries in that department. But he knew was probably causing
some consternation to the other pilots because of his dissapearance.
In the back of his mind, too, he often found himself wondering if Trowa was worrying
about him...or if he was angry...
Wufei sighed and wrapped his face up again. These thought got him nowhere, and caused
him pain besides. He should never have told Trowa his secret. Sometimes, late at night,
when the only sounds were nurses walking through the hallway, and the air ducts, and the
beeps of heart monitors and the cries of other patients far away, he imagained that
Trowa had told the other pilots his story; and that they were laughing at him even
now; and deciding that someone who was continually visited by dead people in thier
dreams, someone who had let his wife and child die, was neither phsyically, mentally,
psychologically or emotionally fit to be a gundam pilot. Especially someone who
disappeared, abandoning his mission and his gundam for weeks; Wufei would come
back to them and found that another boy had taken his place. And it would be all over.
Not wanted, not needed, scorned by the only people he had ever called 'friends'.
Wufei reached up and touched his wounds beneath his wrapping, and sighed. Second-rate
material, trash, thrown out - and alone.
Trowa had taken it upon himself to take care of Shenlong - or Nataku, as Wufei insisted
upon calling it - in the Chinese pilot's mysterious absense. Everyday, after working
with Heavyarms, he did the same for the other gundam. He oiled the machinery, and checked
for any malfuntions; he ran a full scale check through the computer system; he even
polished the outer shell, which was not really necessary, but seemed right. If he
let Nataku get dusty, he might as well admit what he feared; that Wufei had left and
was probably not coming back. That Wufei was far to honorable to give up his lifelong
mission - "I've lived for her every since," he'd said, and Trowa did not need to guess
how Wufei had lived; that Wufei would never abandon these ideals, he knew deep down.
But when had fear ever listened to reason?
The rest of the time, Trowa drifted aimlessly through the days, for there were no
missions to occupy his attention. He spent most of his physical life sprawled on
his bed, walking through the surrounding area, and tinkering about with the gundams;
and all of his mental life was involved in puzzling Wufei.
He finally forced himself to come to the realization that he yearned so badly to
see Wufei again that he was practically mourning his apparent loss of him. He was
liek some silly girl in a romance novel, wailing over her separation from her true
True love. Hm. Well, he had experienced stranger things.
Wufei made his way back to the house he and Trowa had inhabited that night, in the
vain hope that perhaps he might find some clue as to the whereabouts of the safehouse.
It was empty of course; but he roamed it for a few hours, searching for evidence. He
carefully avoided the upstairs bedroom, but eventually, there was no other place to
visit but that one. He opened the door tentatively and stared dispassionatley at
the sparse surrounding. Small desk with a mirror affixed above it; he carefully
avoided the morror as he searched the through the desk drawers. His appearance
depressed him, despite his assertations that the scars did not matter. The drawers
were empty and so he opened the closet. There was nothing there besides a few old moth
balls that gave off a pungnent, nauseating stench. He shut the door quickly. And then
he turned to the bed.
Trowa had made it, before he left; it was covered with a dirty army blanket, flat
and stingy, except for a little lump where the pillow lay. He walked over to the
bed, pulled the blanket back, and leaned forward to press his face into the pillow.
It smelled like Trowa had that night, and he shivered a little. Before he could scorn
himself, he layed down on the bed, gripping the sides. He stared at the ceiling, the
same ceiling he had stared at that night, falling to sleep, and then that morning, as
he had decided to rise and leave before Trowa could wake.
Wufei groaned, at rubbed his face with his hands, forgetting the state of it, and
winced as his scars were slightly traumatized. I'll never be the same now. Isn't
it ironic, he thought, placing his arms behind the pillow, behind his head, isn't it
ironic that a gundam pilot, never earns a scar worth mentioning doing his job, and it
takes a car accident to -
His hand encountered something beneatht he pillow, and, lifting his head slightly, he
pulled it out. It was a folded slip of paper. He unfolded it, his heart quickening,
and sure enough, it was written in Trowa's handwriting. He sat up eagerly as he read.
"Wufei - I don't know if you'll find this, but in case you do, the directions to
our new place are below."
There seemed to be some hesitation in the next line, for it had been scribbled over
a few times, as though Trowa had been unsure of how to put his words down.
"I'd advise you to hurry. I think we need to talk."
Beneath that were the directions to the new safehouse, written in a code they had
divised for these situations. Wufei refolded the note and put it in his pocket. Why
had Trowa chosen that hiding place? Oh, he knew why. He'd never guessed Trowa could
be so ... indiscreet.
*end part two*
*Spark* - Part Three
by shanna seanachai
*if the divine master plan is perfection maybe next i'll give Judas a try*
*trusting my soul to the ice cream assassin. here. here. here.*
The sun was just beginning to bleed into the horizon when Wufei reached the safehouse. It was a nice little wooden structure, with big bay windows and woods behind it, where
the gundams were presumably hidden. He felt a strong need to go visit Nataku, but for
once he out it aside and turned away, towards the house, and began to walk up the gravel path to the front door.
Before he had even reached the porch, the front door was flung open, revealing Duo., who
bounded out of the door as though he were possessed. He was followed by Quatre and Heero, albeit more sedatly.
"WUFEI!" Duo yelled, and threw himself at the Chinese boy. "Where ya been? We've all
been going -" He stopped suddenly, for he had seen the marks on the side of Wufei's face. "Holy - Where'd you get *those*, Wu?"
Wufei disentangled himself and turned his face away. He could feel red creeping up his
neck and he was surprised how embarrassed he was at having his injuries pointed out to
him. "It's nothing," he replied. "I had a bit of an...accident."
"Accident?" Heero frowned.
"Oh, Wufei! How did it happen?" Quatre asked, askance.
"That must have been some accident, Wu," Duo said. "You look like you've been mauled!"
"Why weren't we informed of this?" Heero asked sternly.
"I had no contact. I've been in the hospital, and I didn't know where the safehouse
was." Wufei shrugged the others off. "Enough. I need to put my things away, and
check up on Nataku."
"Oh, you don't have to worry about that," said Duo, grinning. "Trowa's been taking
care of your gundam."
Wufei looked up sharply. "He - he has?"
"Yup. Probably there now." Duo frowned a little. "He's been acting a bit funny."
I'll bet, thought Wufei.
"Spending a lot of time alone," continued Quatre. "Trowa's always been the - the
quiet type. But he's always been very there, very...in the now. He seems so vacant.
Did anything happen during the mission, Wufei?"
"Not that I'm aware of..." Wufei, you are such a bad liar. "I'll go - speak with
him," he said. Duo looked a bit doubtful. Though the others departed, Duo followed
him up to the bedrooms, and watched as he put his bag on the bed. "Trowa was really
worried about, Wufei," Duo said. "Oh, no, he didn't say so. But it's pretty obvious.
He was so surprised when he found out you weren't here." Duo leveled his gaze at him.
"Are you *sure* something didn't happen during the mission?"
"No!" Wufei scowled. "Now get out, Maxwell. I'm going to visit Nataku." He winced
as the words came from his mouth. You *are* a bastard, Wufei.
Trowa heard the sound of someone walking through the underbrush. He looked up,
expecting, perhaps, to see Duo, who had taken to coming up and talking with
him as he worked on Heavyarms or Nataku. But it wasn't Duo.
He heaved a great breath. "When did you get back?"
Wufei sat down next to him. There was something strange about the way he
moved, as though he was concentrating on keeping one side of his body from
Trowa's view. It was hard to see anyway - the sun had nearly set, and inky
shadows masked most of the other boy's features.
"I - needed to think. And I got a little waylaid. I - I'm sorry."
"Why should you be sorry?" Trowa asked, and to his horror he heard his voice
crack on the word 'why'. How humiliating. He sounded like a little boy. He
"I should have stayed. There was - there was nothing - there was no reason
for me to - abandon you."
"Abandon?" Trowa turned to him, hissing. He felt anger, something he rarely
allowed himself, welling up inside him. "You didn't abandon me. I'm not
some - some poor, lonely puppy you left on the side of the road, dammit!"
"Tro -" but Wufei was cut off abruptly as Trowa slapped him. The stinging
hand infuriated his scars and he groaned, reaching up to gingerly touch
It was then that Trowa noticed the disfigurement. "What - where- ?"
"They're nothing! Just leave me alone." Wufei turned away so that his back
was facing Trowa.
"I - no, wait, let me see..." Trowa twisted around, and pulled Wufei's hand
away from his face. "How did you get those...?"
Wufei sighed. "I told you. I got a little waylaid - I was in a little accident,"
he sighed again, "a little accident, inmy car. It was stupid really, I -"
"Oh, my God." Trowa grabbed Wufei by the shoulder. "And all this time, I thought
you'd just - left - that you weren't coming back. Why didn't you tell me at
once?" He reached out stroked Wufei's face tenderly.
"Don't," Wufei whispered, pulling away and batting at Trowa's hand.
"Don't pull that with me," Trowa reprimanded. "I know all the tricks, so don't
think you are pulling the wool over my eyes." He slipped his arms around Wufei
and leaned his head on Wufei's shoulder.
"Oh..." Wufei bent his head down. "You don't understand. I left, I was scared.
I shouldn't have -" he swallowed hard. His throat felt as though it were lined
"I know...and it's alright."
"How can you say that?"
Trowa smiled crookedly. "Because I probably would have done the same thing, not
too long ago."
And there was a sense complete understanding between them, that neither had
ever experienced before.
*end part three*
*Spark* - Part Four
by shanna seanachai
*how many fates turn around in the overtime*
*ballerinas that have fins that you'll never find*
*you thought that you were the bomb yes well so did i*
*say you don't want it say you don't want it*
"What do you think those two are doing?"
Quatre looked up from where he busy making dinner. "Who? Oh, you mean Trowa and Wufei?"
Duo rolled his eyes. "Well, yeah!"
Quatre thought for a minute, his head tilted to the side, his hands on his hips. "If you
want to know the truth," he finally said, "I think something happened during that mission
that neither of them want to talk about." He turned away, going back to work.
Duo looked puzzled. "What - is that all you're going to say?"
Quatre shrugged. "Really, it's none of my - *our* - business."
"He's right, Duo," Heero said. "If they feel like telling us, they will."
"Well." Duo blew his breath out noisily. "If anything had happened to us, you
know we would have told *them*."
"No, *you* would have told them, Duo," Quatre supplied, grinning.
Heero gave a short, barking laugh. "Exactly. I don't think you ever understood the full
ramifications of the word 'discreet'."
Duo scowled. "Fine. If you're all going to gang up on me, I'll just go upstairs." He
flaunted out, all but sticking his nose in the air.
Heero and Quatre shared a glance. "Do you think we should tell him about us?" whispered
Heero gave one of his odd half-smiles. "No," he decided. "Let him find out for himself."
Wufei and Trowa made their way back to the house, arms around each other, as though
to ward off the dark that tried to close in around them. Ahead of them, the house
seemed full of cheer; all the lights had been turned on, which probably meant that Duo
had gottne run of the light switches; laughter could be heard through the walls, and
music from a radio someone had turned on, and all of this was underlayed by the smell
of food being cooked in the kitchen. The two boys looked at each other. Presented by
this sight only a few weeks ago, neither would have been comfortable going in. Faced
with this firm example of happiness, both would have recognized thier own lack of it.
The loneliness of the outsider cannot be put down in words. It is something that one
can only feel. But this burden had been banished by the arms the two slung around each
other, like a ward against thier pasts that tried to haunt them.
They went up the stairs quietly, avoiding the mirth and merriment in the living room
and kitchen, and made thier way to Wufei's room. He had not unpacked, and his bag was
still on the bed. Wufei pitched into the corner of the room, and pulled Trowa onto
the bed with him. He began to kiss him but Trowa shook his head. "Wait," he whispered.
Wufei looked puzzled. Trowa pulled back the sheets and kicked of his shoes, gesturing
for Wufei to do the same. Then they both slid into the bed, Trowa putting his arms
about his lover, and reaching up a little to caress Wufei's injured cheek.
"Before we go any farther, Wufei, we must work out what's behind us." Trowa sighed,
and pulled Wufei close. "Because of you, Wufei, I've come to terms with my past...
but have you with yours?"
Wufei blinked, startled. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, Wufei. I can see her reflected in your eyes. Your grief and your guilt." Trowa
pressed his nose against Wufei's, staring deep into the other's eyes, his breath
washing over Wufei's face. "You can't grow if you live in the past, Wufei. It wasn't
your fault that it happened! There was nothing that you could do!"
Wufei turned his face away and pressed it into the pillow. He could feel his eyes
beginning to heat up and tried desperately to fight down the tears that threatened.
"I could have - saved her - if I'd - tried hard enough!"
"Oh, no, Wufei..."
"Yes! If I had been any kind of a husband, she and the baby would be alive, and
I would be dead -"
"Yes. But I wasn't fast enough, I wasn't strong enough, I wasn't *brave* enough..."
"Wufei! You cannot spend your life repenting for your life itself!" Trowa pulled
Wufei's face towards him. "I love you, you know," he whispered. Wufei's eyes
widened. "Yes, I do. Because you *are* strong, and smart, and brave - you are
brave, Wufei, and it was not your fault! You can't bring her back by - by ruining
your life with unfounded guilt." Trowa kissed him gently on the mouth. "And I
love you because you are you. Do you understand me, Wufei?"
"Oh...oh..." Wufei seemed speechless. Then he seemed to recover his wits, and he
kissed Trowa hungrily, happily. The world seemed suddenly great and infinite and
open for him...something which he had never before realized. It had always seemed
so closed of to him - love, friendship, happiness - and now it was all within his
He pulled back and smiled brilliantly. "You've freed me, Trowa."
*end part four*