. under . the . bridge .

Title: Catholic Schoolboys Rule!
Author: Link Worshiper
Pairings: 1=2, 3=4, mentions of others
Stuff: AU, pokes at religious institution, fluff/sap, angst, lemon topping and a bit of drag XD
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Sunrise, Bandai and a lot of other people who aren't me. +5 skill points if you guess the title reference.

Filling a request for Rainya, because she feeds my geek needs. Thanks to Natea for the once-over on like half of this one. It's since sort of changed a lot in the second bit.

I'm sorry this chapter is kind of on the short side, but it kind of just hit a good ending point, so I figured whatever. Though it does mean I'll be spreading the angst out into the next chapter. And the one after that. And the one after that... >:D But yeah, kind of getting to the home stretch. JD Salinger says that happy authors are too consumed by their joyous condition to just get the hell on with the story; I guess I'm definitely not a happy author XDD

Click [here] for previous parts. You have to scroll down a little bit to find the story.

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XVII.

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"So for the Feast of Saint Madeleine-Sophie this year, I think it would be nice for a member of each academic year to do a reading at the liturgy," said Sister Strom to Relena, who busily jotted the thought down in a notebook as they stood together in the middle of the chapel. "Is that something you can arrange, my dear?"

"Easily," replied Relena, still writing furiously in her notebook. "Would it be something already written, or would you rather the selected students prepare something of their own?"

"Oh, now wouldn't it be wonderful if it was something insightful and personal from each student," the elderly nun mused thoughtfully. "I think it is always beneficial to draw on the experiences of both the past and the present."

"Right, right," said Relena, still scrawling away, but hardly paying attention - that is, until the creak of the chapel door drew her attention to the rear of the sanctuary, revealing none other than Heero Yuy. Her pen stilled on the page as she caught sight of him, her eyes unable to leave him as he walked around the back of the pews, his nose stuck in a book as if he were ignorant of anyone else's presence there. "What do you think of asking one of the exchange students to do that as well," she began absently, her pen now merely something to clench onto. "You know, for something a little different?" She discreetly watched him out of her peripheral until he disappeared into one of the side chapels.

"Splendid!" agreed Sister Strom enthusiastically, obviously not aware that anyone else had entered the chapel.

With Heero's sudden proximity, Relena was now hardly interested in her presidential duty of assisting with the planning of the school's biggest annual liturgy. She wondered why she always felt so inclined to drop everything she was doing whenever he was around, especially considering that they were hardly even friends. Still, the memory of Dorothy's smug face was enough to keep her after him, satisfied enough to think that her personal interest would somehow do to beat Dorothy at her own game. She clenched her pen and notebook tightly and gritted her teeth with new resolve. "Sister, then will you excuse me for a moment?" she asked. "I just saw Heero Yuy."

The nun, casually surprised by this information, waved Relena off amiably. "Go right ahead, dear," she said, moving to sit down on the nearest pew. "I'll wait here for Mother Superior. I can tell her the things we've already discussed."

Relena's feet were already moving in the direction Heero had taken, and she soon found herself in the Madonna's alcove, but was confused to find the nook's six pews empty and wondered where Heero could have vanished too so quickly. She walked towards the altar, glancing back and forth in search of him, but it was to no avail. "I could have sworn he came back here," she muttered under her breath as she neared the front row of pews. "Can't ever seem to catch - whoops!"

Tripping over something lying carelessly in her path, she suddenly stumbled forward, barely able to catch herself on the nearest pew before falling flat on her face. Straightening, she glanced over her shoulder in search of the thing that had caused her to nearly fall and found an open book lying carelessly facedown in the middle of the aisle as if it had been unexpectedly dropped. Intrigued, she stooped to pick it up, quick to recognize it as the book Heero had been reading when she'd first seen him walk by. Its title, Ulysses, was emblazoned in bold typeface across the front cover, and, curious as to what kind of books Heero Yuy liked to read, flipped it over and began to read from it.

'When the Irishman is found outside of Ireland in another environment,' [she read] 'he very often becomes a respected man. The economic and intellectual conditions that prevail in his own country do not permit the development of individuality. No one who has any self-respect stays in Ireland, but flees afar as though from a country that has undergone the visitation of an angered Jove.'

The groan of a footstep suddenly drew her attention from the pages of the book. Looking up, her eyes swung 'round the chapel again, still frustrated to find the place empty. Resolutely, she set the book down on one of the nearby pews and started to scout the sanctuary a bit more thoroughly, certain she hadn't imagined the sound - especially since she could swear she'd just heard it once more.

Finally managing to pinpoint the noise, she was surprised to find a small doorway she'd never noticed there before. It stood ajar by the altar, inconspicuous next to the grandeur of the adjacent stained glass and statuary. She supposed that was where Heero had gotten off to, and continued to press on after him, approaching the door and pulling it further open. Behind it, she discovered the narrow, wooden stair that led to the private quarters Sister Strom and her assistants inhabited. Quickly mounted the steps, hardly even stopped to wonder why Heero would go up there at all.

She reached the top of the stairs just in time to see Heero being jerked around the corner at the end of the hall, and judging by the way he had been pulled (and the state she'd found his book in downstairs), she was quick to conclude that something was amiss. Already, as she strode briskly down the hallway, she had come up with a scenario in which Heero had stumbled into some kind of trouble with one of the nuns and had been suddenly dragged off for immediate discipline. When she heard the slam of a door not long after, she knew it would be up to her to burst in at the opportune moment and, through the power of her diplomacy skills, convince the erring nun how wrong she was to punish Heero, even if he might have deserved whatever he had coming.

Voices wafted from around the corner as she neared, and her pace slowed as she tuned her ears to listen, though it seemed there wasn't much to hear. She could pick up Heero's voice and one other, both soft murmurs that were muffled by the walls that separated them from the place where Relena stood. She quickly rounded the corner in hopes of being able to discern more, hovering by the only closed door she found there, certain that Heero was behind it.

Carefully, she gave the door a light push, hoping that an inconspicuous glance inside would help her pick the best moment to make her presence known. However, her plans and the colour in her cheeks drained away when she finally comprehended the scene she found inside. Instead of being scolded by a nun, Heero was sitting on the edge of the room's simple cot with Duo Maxwell, kissing him - and kissing him with practiced ease. Their hands were roaming across one another, their clothes already in a bit of disarray. Had Duo been the one to drag Heero in there? Maybe an intervention of a different kind was what was needed here, she thought.

But as she stood there watching, her feet somehow immobile, it soon became apparent that Heero was no casual victim to Duo's voracious libido. He gave Duo a domineering push that left them both splayed across the cot, wrestling with one another as their lips crushed together again and again. Despite the obvious carnality of their movement, Relena couldn't help but notice something softer, almost sad and longing, which seemed to pervade over even their roughest actions. It was a passion she'd always hoped she would be able to trace in Heero herself, but she was quickly learning that it was something that would never be. Flashes of Heero previous indifferences to her were suddenly cast in a new light as she continued to spy on the private moment, unable to quell her voyeurism as clarity dawned further upon her. She then found herself wondering how long this had been going on.

Suddenly, a female voice that was quickly recognized as Sister Strom's echoed up the stairs: "Duo!" she called, the call punctuated by the sound of her footsteps on the staircase. "Duo, are you through with your morning chores? Mother Superior has some other errands for you if you have!"

At the sound of Strom's voice, inside the room, Duo suddenly sat bolt right up, startling Heero back a bit. A nervous breath hitched in Relena's throat, though there was nothing for her to really fear. For a moment, she even thought Duo might have noticed her standing there, and she found herself taking a few cautious steps back as Strom's footfalls grew louder with her approach.

In retrospect, Relena would be unsure what exactly possessed her to do what she did next except for the instinct that it was the right course to take. Resolutely, she walked back towards the stairs to meet Sister Strom just as she reached the top and boldly strode right up to the nun, her hands clenched in tight fists at her sides. "Sister," she said with a deep swallow. "Sister... Duo Maxwell is.... He's...."

Sister Strom had stopped in her tracks, probably trying to both figure out what Relena was doing there and gear up for whatever the girl was about to tell her.

Relena lifted her chin and swallowed again before declaring in a much more confident voice: "Sister, Duo Maxwell is feeling very sick right now! You probably should just let him rest."

The nun seemed very genuinely surprised by this declaration, though honestly, Relena was just as shocked herself. Still, she stood by it, even as the nun began to press her; "I'm sorry, he's ill?" Strom questioned, arching her eyebrows. "But he was right as rain this morning!"

"I... I wouldn't know anything about that," Relena answered, taking another step forward in hopes of keeping the nun away from Heero, though her eyes were focused on a crack in the nearby wall. "I just found Duo looking very sick on his feet while I was trying to find Heero. He had me help him to a bed." The words were coming out so fast now, Relena almost wasn't even aware of her own story, even as she spun it out. "You might want to give him at least an hour or so to recover a bit."

Sister Strom seemed a little skeptical but had no reason to contradict Relena, so instead she just nodded and changed the subject. "So I take it you didn't manage to speak to Heero Yuy about the liturgy?" she asked, gesturing back to the stairs as if to invite Relena back to the chapel area.

Breathing out for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, Relena followed the nun's indication and said as she passed by, "No, not yet, but I will. He was gone pretty quickly. He... must have had some other... urgent errand to take care of."

Relena kept her eyes focused forward as she descended the staircase, worried her expression would betray her. She wondered for a brief moment why it mattered so much if it did: after all, she wasn't particularly close to Duo, and from the looks of things, it seemed like he was only doing to corrupt Heero's sense of decency. At the same time, she couldn't shake the memory of that gentleness she'd seen between the two of them - gentleness like she had never known either one was capable of. It both mystified and moved her.

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Even if Duo had a long list of errands to run for Sister Strom in town, he was glad to get away from the school for a while. Being cooped up in a small region of the building with hardly any contact with the outside world was starting to wear him thin, and he knew it would be only a matter of time before one of the nuns caught on to the fact that he'd been sneaking Heero into his temporary apartment almost every night since their lovemaking in the chapel a week or so before. But even as their relationship continued to grow more intimate, Duo knew there was a certain sense of urgency attached to it as Heero's time on Earth grew ever shorter. With Jay's release from the hospital immanent, it was no secret that Heero was anxious to escape their grasp once more. But what scared Duo the most was that he still had yet to decide if he was ready to make that leap, fully aware that the more he hesitated, the more likely it was that he would lose Heero forever.

The thought caused Duo to stop in the middle of the road he was following into town, his arms folded behind his head as he turned his gaze heavenwards. The moon was a white crescent penciled upon the azure backdrop of early evening. Heero's home, he thought instinctively, but then shook his head. No, he amended; It's just the place he comes from. His chin dropped as his arms fell back to his sides, hanging limply on either side of him as he continued to think about Heero and where he was going. Not for the first time, he wondered why Heero was so desperate to get away: I mean, I hate my father too, he thought as his feet started to trudge forward once again, but I'm not sure that even I'd go so far as to run away from him like that. At the same time, though, he supposed he couldn't help but envy the way Heero was able to cut himself so easily from the ties that bound him. Duo, meanwhile, wasn't convinced it was so easy.

Then again, maybe Heero was right in saying that it was his love for Sister Helen that was keeping him tied down, just as Heero's longing to find his mother drove him to such great heights. But whereas Heero had an idea of where he might find the one who loved him, Duo knew for certain that if there was ever any chance of Helen miraculously returning from the dead and coming for him, Saint Magdalena's was the only place she'd know to look for him. For the first time in his life, after living most of it no further than the present and allowing it to be dictated by the past, Duo felt conflicted about what he ought to do about his future. For so long, he'd only dreamed of flying, but now he suddenly felt overwhelmed with the urge to actually try. And true enough, the decision already made him feel lighter, his pace quickening as his excitement to share this enlightenment with Heero overtook even his eagerness to be free of Magdalena's confines.

The first few errands on Duo's list were simple enough, but the distances between some of the specialty shops Sister Strom wanted Duo to visit started to tax him after a while. He'd been on his feet all day, except during his lunch break, though he'd spent all of that rolling Heero between the sheets, and it was needless to say that even someone with as much stamina s Duo would be a bit drained. After a particularly obnoxious run to the post office to pick up a large package for Sister Strom, Duo just had to take a moment to sit down on the curb outside and relax. Rubbing his temples, he took to watching the passersby, all the while wishing that he had Heero there to keep him company.

Across the street was a bike repair shop, a deli and a pawn shop. Duo contented himself with watching people come and go from the three establishments for a while and then soon found himself wandering over to examine the store windows more closely, just to satisfy his own idle curiosity. But as he dawdled in front of the pawn shop, he noticed something in the window that caused the very blood in his veins to freeze. His fingers loosened around the package he'd just retrieved from the post office, and it slammed to the ground with a dull thud as he stared through the glass at the two medallions that had been stolen from him, winking silver in that early evening glow. "I'll be goddamned," he rasped, unable to find his voice.

With that, he snatched up the package and stormed into the pawn shop, his entrance heralded by the tinkling bell over the door as he slammed it open and shut again. Giving no preamble for his wrath, he stomped right up to the cashier and demanded hotly, "Who the fuck sold you those two medals in the front window, jackass?"

The man behind the counter, a large, balding fellow with a sleazy tilt to his mouth, balked a little at Duo's unexpected assault. "How should I know?" he answered in a thick accent. "People, they come, they go: who can keep track of them always?"

Duo smashed the package onto the counter, uncaring of whatever it might have contained. "Don't fuck with me, dickwad; this town really ain't that big," Duo snapped coarsely, pounding his fists against the surface of the countertop. "I'm giving you ten seconds to start remembering where the goddamn fuck-hell those things came from, because they sure as fuck didn't get pissed from the clear fucking blue sky, that's for damn sure." He banged his fists against the counter again to emphasize his point.

At the other end of the shop, a browsing woman, who seemed to find the atmosphere suddenly far too uncomfortable, was quick to gather her purse and scurry for the door. The fat man frowned after her as she opened the door and hurriedly darted outside with another jangle of the entrance bell. "See, look at now what you've done," he complained, gesturing angrily towards the door; "You make me lose customer."

Duo raised a menacing fist and pulled it back: "I'll make you lose a fucking eye if you don't spill it," he shouted. "Who was it?! Tell me right fucking now!"

"I don't know, I don't know!" the man stammered, obviously starting to sweat a bit more in light of Duo's very physical threat. Desperately, he waved a thick hand at Duo, detailing a bit further, "It was a while back - some tomboy girl from your school with short hair."

Satisfied that he was going to start getting some answers, Duo lowered his fist, though he was far from being finished. "Are you sure?" he asked a bit more placidly.

"Of course I'm sure!" the man insisted. "Only your school dresses the girls in the short skirts and the blazers."

Duo frowned, not sure he liked what he was hearing. There weren't many girls he could think of that fit the bill, and it bothered him that the premiere candidate for such a description was none other than Hilde, whom he thought was a trustworthy friend. But obviously if she had been the one to sell the medallions to the pawn shop, then she had to have been the one to take them, or at least knew something about the one who did without telling him. The thought absolutely drove him mad! She was one of his oldest friends; she knew how special those damn medals were to him! "I'll kill her," he growled under his breath. Then, louder, he asked sharply, "How much for the medals. I want them back."

The fat man seemed to fall back into a more practiced state of being once Duo started talking business, and he went to retrieve them from the window, saying, "I give them to you cheap, cheap. No one buys for religion anymore; is too out of date."

"Memories don't have a time stamp on them," Duo commented morosely as the fat man brought the medallions back to him. He picked them up and held them in his palm, staring down at them as if they were a piece of his soul he'd not seen in a very long while. Now that they were in his hands, there was no mistaking them for anything but the medals that had been filched out of the locker room.

Wordlessly, he folded them into his fist and jammed them into his pocket, grabbing the package and turning to go. He heard the fat man protesting behind him, demanding he stop and pay him his due sum as he stalked back towards the door, but he pointedly ignored the man until he was about to step outside. "If you see that girl again," he said darkly, "you should warn her there will be no sanctuary at Saint Magdalena's for her."

He pounded the door closed behind him with a firm jerk of his arm, leaving the fat clerk too terrified to even think of chasing after him.

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