I have always seen Duo, predictably enough, as hiding everything behind a childish, annoying appearance – the much clichéd mask, if you will. It's the same in all of my GW fanfiction (not that most of you know this, seeing as how this is the only one I've posted.) I tend to have certain rules for characters that are the same no matter what the storyline, and this is one of Duo's. Heero is the only one who has ever realized the full extent of Duo's mask, or how deeply it goes – although I've always thought that Father Maxwell understood it. The annoying Duo is a protective outer shell that grows thicker the more vulnerable he is feeling; so the more abrasive he acts, the more threatened, depressed, or hurt he's feeling. Because Heero's very presence is comforting to him, he often acts as a calming agent and Duo doesn't act nearly so childish around him. (Dark Avalon, you know what I'm talking about…heh heh.)

Thanks go out to everyone who reviewed: Jess-eklom, dk-joy, Shru, Lestat'sLover, Shinotenshi, ahanchan, Nolwe the Lady Dragon, Soltic, xxkurenaixshixx, duos-deathscythe, lun4r-flow3r, Katsume18, Pretty Drowned Rat, Me, Geminidragon, DarkAvalon, Ink2, and kcgal.

Most reviews per chapter yet! Thank you!

And to lun4r-flow3r, who I missed last chapter.

Standard disclaimers apply. Try to sue me and I will send the evil purple monkeys of doom after you. Complain about the yaoi elements and I will send the evil purple monkeys of doom after you. Annoy me in any way and I will send the evil purple monkeys of doom after you.

Perfect World

Chapter 7

Z

The spaceport was noisy and crowded with people coming and going. Vacations, business trips, honeymoons – all disgustingly normal. Frankly Duo was bored with it all. He had always hated spaceports, anyway. All those people, just waiting to turn up their noses at him. Complain about the dirty, smelly child holding the tin can as he clung desperately to Sister Helen's hand, trying to get some donations for the church…

Duo shook his head, simultaneously shaking off the bad memory. He grinned wildly, enjoying the spark of weariness the action caused to flare in his imaginary mother's eye. Yes, yes, she was getting used to him; beginning to be able to read him.

The host family for Duo's friend stood nearby, smiling and chatting happily amongst themselves. He had chosen them specially, knowing that they were the type of people who would work best for his fellow pilot. The mother was a kindergarten teacher, the father a cop. The son volunteered at animal shelters and nursing homes. It was sickeningly sweet.

It was perfect.

At the announcement of the arrival of the ship, their group moved forward toward the gate, watching eagerly for the arrivals to begin to come out. Duo bounced up and down on the balls of his feet, peering over shoulders as he anticipated the return of his friend.

Everything was coming back into place. Everything would soon be back to normal. One by one he would have his friends back – even if they were just illusions created by his mind – apparently to keep him entertained during his coma. (Of course his mind would work like that. Boredom would have driven him insane, he decided.)

Anyway, he forgave his mind its insane world.

Everything would return to normal and –

Duo almost didn't recognize the boy who stepped from the terminal first in line. He…

He was chubby.

A little taller than he should have been, chubby, and extremely tanned, dressed in a perfectly tailored white suit. A mouth that Duo had trouble picturing without a smile was turned downwards into a neat, displeased frown and, as he pulled expensive black sunglasses from his face, his normally friendly blue eyes coldly passed over him without recognition.

"Mr. Winner!" The host family mother called eagerly, waving. (Why couldn't Duo remember her name?) "Mr. Winner?"

He blinked, looking almost disgusted as he ran his eyes over the group before finally sighing and striding over.

"You're who I'm staying with?" He drawled in a bored tone, clearly displeased. He gave another, much put-upon sigh, glancing back at the ship's entrance as if contemplating going back home.

"Mr. Winner, sir, I'm Theresa Buckley." The woman said eagerly, nervously running her hand through her home-dyed red hair, charming plastic bangles on her wrists clattering. "And this is my husband Mark and our son Simon. You'll be staying with us. Welcome to L2!"

"Yes, yes, fine." He sighed, rolling his eyes and ignoring the hand offered him by Mark Buckley. "I hope your driver has the car waiting out front!" He announced, striding past the group with his chin in the air.

"Yo, Quat, wait up." Duo called, hurrying to follow. He stared at the blonde boy as he, in turn, looked him up and down with obvious displeasure, taking in the ripped, faded jeans (Duo had "fixed" them just that morning) and the tight black turtleneck with a sneer.

"Did you lose a fight with a rabid bunny?"

"Haha, very funny. Listen, man, do you know who I am?"

"Hopefully not my personal assistant." He turned and gave Duo one of the blinding smiles he remembered, but it was different. Insincere. "You understand, don't you? I do have a reputation to keep up. If you want to work for me, that's fine, but you will have to dress appropriately."

"Quat, it's…I'm Duo. Duo Maxwell."

He dissolved into a fit of giggles. "What kind of name is that?"

Z

Aaron munched lazily on a bowl of unsalted microwave popcorn, hating it yet too hungry to stop. There was nothing else in the house to be used as snack food. (He hated it when his parents decided to go on diets.) Disinterested, he flipped through the channels on the television, only half listening as Grace, beside him, fumbled through her library book for reading practice. Sam was better with the homework help, anyway.

Nothing to eat, nothing on the tv. Could life get any worse?

Hearing a car pull into the driveway, Aaron quickly switched the channel from some mindless cartoon to the news and turned in his seat so that he was facing Grace and it at least looked like he had been helping.

The door slammed open and Sam stormed him, furious about something.

Good. About time something went wrong for the cocky bastard.

He glanced at the tv and grinned as a dignified looking man approached a podium amid cheers and flashed of photography.

"Hey Sam!" He called laughingly. "Your boyfriend's on the news. Gonna make some kind of speech. Let's see, Heero Yuy speaks out against – oomph!" He spun in his seat, glaring, but Sam's back was to him, looking for all the world as if he hadn't just thrown a book at him and successfully hit him in the head.

Grace giggled.

Z

Monday was a rainy day. Duo had spent the weekend in his room with the door locked, moping because things were not going according to plan. Quatre had been different…strange…at the space port. Duo had tried to call him several times over the weekend and was told "Mister Winner is not currently accepting calls."

If Q, the pilot most like a younger brother to the orphaned, attention-craving Duo, was so very different, what would the others be like? He hadn't really expected any of his teammates to know who he was, but he never expected them to be so different.

Unbidden, images of a Heero who wasn't the Heero he loved came to mind. He had expected to be able to seduce the imaginary version of his lover and get at least some semblance of normalcy returned to him…but what if he couldn't? What if Heero was so different he wasn't interested?

Duo pictured a red-necked, homophobic Heero, and nearly cried.

Searching for his friend within the stranger, Duo wasted no time in tracking Quatre down Monday morning. He had already fixed it so all the "exchange students" would share his schedule, and it was a simple thing to take initiative and, acting as he thought "Sam" would have, requested to be the new students' guide at the new school.

"I'm sure it'll help me get my memory back!" He had said in a disgusting, sugary voice.

Quatre didn't improve over the course of the dreary, rainy day. After he had discovered that Duo's likes and language were more "common," he had begun to thoroughly ignore him. In fact, he refused to talk to anyone but the best dressed, and those who did all they could to kiss the ass of one of the richest boys in the colonies.

By the end of the day he was in a horribly pissy mood, and seriously regretting every tracking down his friends.

Unfortunately, he had already invited Quatre to come home with him. When he watched the boy he had considered the sweetest, kindest being in the galaxy turn his nose up at the homey, charming Hunt home, he had almost succumbed to the urge to kill something.

By the time Susan called them to dinner, Duo had lost his appetite.

"You have another student to pick up tomorrow, Samuel?" Susan had asked after an awkward silence following a comment from Quatre over how common and cheap chicken was.

"One would think, for company, a little extra work would be put into a meal…"

"Yeah, tomorrow." He answered moodily, stirring around his vegetables on his plate. He really didn't feel like seeing any more of his "friends."

"Another exchange student?" Quatre asked, flushing. Of course he wouldn't want any attention diverted from him toward another. His lips twisted into a petulant scowl. "How utterly charming. Samual, you will take me along with you, won't you?"

"Like hell I will you rotten little prick."

"Samuel!"

He jerked his head toward his "mother" at her outburst and felt a surprising stirring of guilt.

"That is uncalled for!"

"But - !"

"We'd be happy to let you come with us, Quatre." Susan smiled, ignoring Duo's protests.

"Thanks so very much." He smiled, eyes glinting at the formerly braided boy in triumph.

Duo scowled and returned to his peas.

"Tell us, Quatre, what is L4 like?" Tony asked, shooting Duo a warning look. "I've always wanted to go there on vacation."

"Oh, you couldn't afford it, I'm sure!" The blonde laughed. "Unless you want to dip into Samuel's college fund – I daresay you won't be needing it, Samuel is obviously not the right caliber for higher learning…you have put money back for college, haven't you? The expense can be quite difficult for a family of limited means if they are unprepared, you know."

Duo positioned a pea on his fork.

"My father has a scholarship program set up for those less fortunate." Quatre continued, smiling at Duo. "You'd be perfect for that, Samuel. I can even put in a good word for you."

Duo returned the smile and flicked the pea. It hit the blonde square in the forehead and had been mushy enough that it stayed there. His smile became a grin as he watched the disgust and horror fill the rich boy's countenance.

"Sure, thanks a lot, Q."

Z

Quatre and Duo squabbled all the way to the space port Tuesday afternoon; Quatre subtle and biting, Duo unabashedly rude. Susan was pale and drawn as they walked through the parking lot, caught between disciplining her son and supporting his returned rudeness toward the spoiled brat.

Quatre – the real Quatre – had earned Duo's eternal trust and respect within the first few moments of meeting him. The fake, imaginary Q had lost it in the same amount of time. Duo was still having trouble equating the happy, wonderful boy he had admired so much with the mean spoiled blonde that had taken to following him around insulting him.

He was terrified of what he would find when he met his other friends.

Would they all be like this?

He looked at the host family for the newest exchange student, pitying their excitement over the arrival of a new boy. He already felt sorry for sticking those other nice people with the evil Quatre and now he was hurting another family with another alternate, evil version of a boy he had once admired.

"What's this guy's name?" Quatre drawled boredly, still sulking that no one wanted to stop at a gift shop and buy him some gum as he had wanted them to do.

"Triton." Duo scowled. "Triton Bloom."

Z

To Be Continued.

Short and late. I know – I'm horrible. But I have a valid excuse. I'm having pacing problems! I don't want to do too much or else it will be horrible…I would make this chapter longer, but I really like this ending. Please forgive me. Please review.

I do not hate Quatre – I love him. I want to pet him and squeeze him.

"Then Kit-baka, why did you do this horrible thing to him?"

Because, dear readers, it so amuses me to.