Disclaimers and warnings still apply


And I don't want the world to see me
Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
~Goo-Goo Dolls, "Iris"

Maxwellís world never changed.

White walls. White coats. White jacket. White sheets. White restraints.

He didnít much care. His eyes were wide and unseeing, a small smile playing
on his lips.

Chang was talking to him.

Chang always talked to him.

Warm and familiar and there, just like he had been since they were both sold
as slaves in the Central Market.

Who needed color when that low, even tenor was in his mind?

Who needed movement when Chang touched him?

Chang knew how to hurt him.

Chang knew how to take pain.

Chang was in him, his blood in Maxwellís body.

Maxwell could taste it.

"All mine."

The door opened. White light from the white hallway. Then a flash of blue.
Maxwell frowned. Blue? Chang didnít wear blue. He didnít like blue. Why was
there blue here? There was white when his eyes were open and black when his
eyes were closed. Changís clothes, Changís eyes. Not blue.

Black like fire, not blue like ice.

"Go away."

Silently, the blue moved. Blue. And brown. Slowly, Maxwellís frown darkened.
Something tickled at his mind, something he didnít quite understand.

White. Black.


Blue...blue...hard, like metal. Cobalt.



"I thought you were dead."

A smile, white on brown skin. A silent word.

Sound. Loud, wincing, painful.

Red splashed across white, then faded to black.

The door shut, blocking white light from the white hall.

Men and women in white coats came running, screaming.

Blood pooled on a white floor.

And even the black faded away.


Wufei fought the urge to laugh as Duo wolfed down another hamburger, bounced
across the bazaar, and started oohhhing over some antique something or other
in the space of about ten seconds.

"Duo, you need that like you need a hole in the head. Put it down."

Duo pouted but put down the glass cross before wrapping his arms around his
loverís shoulders with a firm squeeze. "But I waaa~aant it. Wantís more fun
than need."


"You *know* it!!" *V* Duo grinned and planted a very insistant kiss to his
loverís lips, pressing close despite the bandages still wrapped around Wufei
ís chest to guard bruised and broken ribs. "Youíll have to make it up to me,
my not getting that, you know."

"Oh? And how do you propose I do that?"

Duo leaned it, voice low and husky. "Weíll think of something," he murmured.
"You *are* a genius, after all."

Wufei smiled wolfishly, wrapping his arms around Duoís waist. "Something
involving privacy?"




"Caramel syrup."


"And a very vocal American?"

Duo shivered and grinned. "Mind reader."


"Címon you two! Youíre in public! Disengage and join the rest of us!"

Wufei and Duo looked up, a slow blush spreading across the Chinese boyís
cheeks as he realized that he and his American lover were the center of
attention in a very crowded shopping square. "Anou..."

"Coming, Quatre!" Duo chirped. Leaning in for a quick kiss, me murmured,
"You do realize once your ribs can take my weight again *Iíll* be on top!!"

"Fight you for it."

Duo grinned then bounced off to join an annoyed Quatre, amused Heero, and
silently smiling Trowa. "Come on, Fei-chan! Thereís another antique stall
just down the road!!"

Wufei rolled his eyes and jogged to catch up. "Duo! Our dorm room isnít big
enough for a kitchen table and chairs...!"

A boy in the crowd shifted, smiling slightly as he folded the newspaper he
had been reading and running a hand through short bleached hair. He already
knew what had happened to the famous prisoner in the news story; indeed, he
knew far more than the reporter did. It was quite a big deal, finding an
inmate in a mental hospital murdered like that. There was no telling what
hell the staff was going through at the moment. Slipping a pair of
sunglasses from his dark green dress shirt and tucking the folded newspaper
into the waistband of his black slacks, he slipped the glasses on over
slanted blue eyes. The wind shifted, tugging at the partially unbuttoned
shirt and revealing an imperfection on his skin, the mark of a knife.
Unconcerned at the appearance of the scar, he turned and disappeared
effortlessly, nothing more than one person in a sea of humanity.