It was a hopeless love, his and mine, one that seemed damned from the start. We were two different people, travelling on two very different paths, striving for two different goals, and it’s a wonder how we even met in the first place, but somehow, over the course of several months, we became one.

He was the classic bad boy, a movie star with dark hair, dark eyes, and an even darker, penetrating gaze that drove the little fan-girls all across America wild. He’d been notorious for having a different woman with a big chest and a slim waist in his company every night, was known for the all night parties he liked to throw, but, most importantly, was recognized for his uncanny ability to do really, really good love scenes in his films. By the young age of twenty-one, he was a multi-millionaire, one of the biggest stars worldwide.

I, on the other hand, was a good little boy from a small town in the upper mid-west where the main attraction was the mega-plex, which showed tons of movies daily, both new and old to satisfy all of it’s patrons. While all of the other kids in my town went out to the movies every weekend, my mother and father took it upon themselves to train me for my future in priesthood. According to them, films were sinful, full of sex and gore and cussing. Needless to say, I grew up with few friends and soon tired of the life that I’d been leading. By my senior year of high school, I was ready to break free and to see the world beyond my sleepy little town.

A full scholarship to a college not too far from town, but closer to the big city than I’d ever been, was my ticket out. It was shortly after graduation that I was offered a place to live off campus with a guy named Quatre Winner, whom I’d met at an orientation. His dad was a big businessman of some kind and had bought his only son a big, old mansion to reside in all by himself. Quatre, being the kind and generous person that he is, graciously offered a room in the house to me for very little pay. Needless to say, I took the proposal quickly.

Within a few months at the college, I had changed, but not in one area. I was still deeply religious, and took my faith very seriously. There was a church on the campus, which I visited so often that I was on a first name basis with the priest there. In a way, my love for my faith brought me to him.

It all started when I heard of a religious convention going on in the city and decided to go on a little road trip. I planned it for months and months, but then something unexpected happened . . .

*~*

Quatre took one look out of the window at the heavy gray storm clouds blanketing the sky and said, "Maybe you shouldn’t go."

Duo Maxwell stared at his friend in total and utter disbelief. Shouldn’t go? The trip had been the only thing on Duo’s mind for the last month or so. He would finally be going into the city alone, free to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Besides, there was no way that he was going to miss that convention. He just shook his head adamantly and continued to pack, stuffing another woolly sweater into his already overflowing suitcase.

"No, I’m serious, Duo!" protested the blonde. "Did you look out of the window? It’s going to snow hard, and then it’ll be dangerous out on the road. They’re already icy and slick and-"

"I’ll be fine," Duo said with a grin on his face. "Relax, Q-man! You always get worked up about something or other!"

Quatre fiddled with a loose string hanging from the bottom of his oversized gray sweatshirt before ripping it off. He then rung his hands together nervously and licked his lips. "Duo . . . I . . . I’ve got a bad feeling about this. Please don’t go," he begged once more.

Duo’s hands stilled, his head cocked to one side thoughtfully. "A . . . feeling?"

Quatre nodded. "A strong one. Something’s going to happen, I just KNOW it!"

Duo knew of Quatre’s physic abilities, although the other boy liked to pretend as if he didn’t have them, or at least didn’t mention them a lot. Visions often came to Quatre through his dreams and occurred rarely while he was awake, and his ‘space heart’ granted him the skill of feeling a person’s emotions at a magnified intensity. There were a few other things that he could manage on occasion, but they were the least useful of his talents.

Duo shifted his weight from one leg to another, then sighed. "You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be fine. Look, I’ll have my phone, so you can call and check up on me anytime you like, okay?" Which Duo knew would be at least every five minutes or so.

Quatre nodded hesitantly, but didn’t look convinced at all.

Duo chuckled at his buddy’s worried look. He hooked an arm around Quatre’s shoulders and pulled him close, then rubbed the top of his head a little roughly. It was just a friendly little gesture, an attempt to get the other boy to lighten up. "You looooove me don’t you, Q? You just luuuuuv me so much that you give yourself an ulcer worrying about me every minute of the day! Every time I go somewhere, it’s ‘Duo, be careful’, or ‘Duo, be back before dark’ or, ‘Duo, don’t talk to strangers’ or-"

Quatre laughed a bit and ducked out of Duo’s embrace. "Okay, okay! Sorry! I . . . just can’t help it."

Duo winked at him. "Your one hundred-something sisters did quite a number on you!"

"Haha." It was an old joke between the two, that Quatre’s lack of male influence during his childhood had lead to his ‘mothering-syndrome’ that had developed later on in life. "I’M not the one who wears an APRON in the kitchen."

"Hey!! That’s legit! At least I cook!"

Quatre just laughed.

Duo shoved the suitcase onto the floor and sat on it, struggling to get it close. With the help of Quatre’s rear end, they were finally able to secure the latches shut.

"Whew! All ready to go!" exclaimed Duo. He fought to lift up the bag with a loud, slightly exaggerated grunt.

"Don’t do that! You’re going to strain your back. Let me help you."

"Yes, MOM."

Quatre rolled his eyes and playfully shoved Duo aside, catching the other boy off guard, sending him toppling onto the floor and onto his back. The blond gasped, his eyes growing as wide as saucers. "I’m sooo sorry, Duo!" He rushed over to his friend’s side and bent down to help him up.

Duo just laughed and yanked the blond down onto the floor so that he was sprawled out across his thighs. He swept a lock of hair from his friend’s face and whispered, "I hate to see you worry so much. Please don’t."

Quatre struggled not to turn pink from Duo’s touch and nodded. "I-I’ll do my b-best," he replied shakily. His eyelids grew heavy and drifted close. Quatre suppressed a sigh as he lay there.

Why did Duo do this to him? His gentle touches, that voice of his, although as innocent they were, drove him crazy. Yes, Quatre Winner was attracted to the braided boy, even though he was quite aware that Duo had never shown any interest in another male. But since he’d met Duo, something about him kept him hooked, and made him come back for more.

It wasn’t only him that was wild for Duo. Everyone that Duo came into contact with liked him, in some shape or form. Maybe it was his energetic nature, his teasing personality, his tender, caring side . . . Whatever it was, Quatre couldn’t get enough.

Much to Quatre’s disappointment, those long caressing fingers were removed from his hair. His eyes fluttered open and he stared up at his crush as he smiled down at him. "Feeling better now?"

Quatre nodded wordlessly and got onto his feet. Duo followed suit and, without another word, the two boys lifted the suitcase together and carried it down the stairs and out to Duo’s shiny black SUV, which had been a gift from his parents when he’d gotten the scholarship. Although he didn’t like to be materialistic, the car was Duo’s pride and joy. He took good care of it, took it in for tune ups more often than he went to the doctor himself, washed and waxed it regularly, vacuumed every inch of the interior with extreme care, kept it smelling nice with the various scents of the little pine trees . . . It was his baby.

Once the suitcase was placed in the trunk, a swift, cruel wind tore across the yard. The sound of a tree branch snapping somewhere off in the distance made Quatre jump. A forewarning shiver raced up and down his spine. He still didn’t fell right, and now it was even worse. Now he wasn’t worried about the weather. Something else was wrong.

Duo hopped around a bit, rubbing his arms to warm himself. He noticed Quatre standing there, staring off at the ground, then jumped forward, placing his hands on Quatre’s arms, moving them up and down quickly. Quatre almost fell over from Duo’s force, and this pulled the blonde out of his stupor. He forced a laughed and backed up.

"If I let you keep at that, you’ll rub my arms away," Quatre kidded softly.

A huge grin formed on Duo’s face. He pulled his keys from his pocket and jingled them in his hands. "Q, babe, the road’s calling me. I gotta go."

" . . . okay. Be safe, Duo."

Duo unlocked is door and climbed up into the car. "Of course. I’ll call you in a little while."

And Quatre would be waiting by the phone.

He watched as the car drove off, and stood outside in the cold winter air until the black SUV was out of sight. Quatre let out a huge, heavy sigh and retreated into the house, locking the door behind him. The cold wind still lingering on him, Quatre lit the fireplace and trudged into the kitchen where he flicked on the tiny black and white television for word on the weather and prepared to make some tea. With the teapot warming up on the stove, he stood on his toes and reached up into the cabinet for a mug when something stopped him.

The news report. He abandoned the cabinet and quickly crossed the kitchen, turning up the volume. The reporter’s voice filled the room.

"-just released the identities of the two men that escaped from prison early this morning. Heero Yuy and Christopher Miller have been missing for six hours now, and police, county, state and even the FBI are searching for them. There is much pressure on the authorities to capture both men, but especially Yuy. As you might recall, former movie star Heero Yuy was convicted for the murder of Relena Peacecraft, a co-star in one of his films, several years ago. Miller, however, is nothing more than a petty thief. It’s quite obvious that the police are more concerned with getting a murderer back in custody."

Quatre swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat. A murderer was loose in the area?

"It is unclear whether either man is unarmed, but residents and travelers in the Greenfield area of the state should be on high alert."

The blonde almost fainted. Two prisoners were hiding out somewhere nearby? His house was very close to Greenfield, in walking distance even.

The shrill whistle of the teapot sent Quatre into action. He went quickly throughout the house, checking every door and window, making sure they were secured. He drew down every blind and curtain and engaged the alarm system.

Once done, a slightly out of breath Quatre plopped down on the rug lying before the fireplace and pulled his knees up to his chest. He could only think of one thing . . .

He reached over and grasped the phone, punching in some numbers. Come on, Duo, pick up . . . pick up, please . . .

No answer.

Quatre was momentarily concerned, until he remembered that Duo had changed his number a while back to stop some crazy girl who’d been obsessed about him from calling. He recalled writing down the new number somewhere, but where?

He quickly got up and began his search.

*~*

"You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life . . ." shouted Duo along with the music at the top of his lungs with a huge grin on his face. [1] Ahh, to be on the road and totally free, with your favorite song blasting, your stomach full of yummy double chocolate chip pancakes . . . and your gas tank on E. He grinned sheepishly at himself in the rearview mirror.

"Silly me," he laughed. "Forgot to fill up earlier!"

Duo pulled his car up to a tank and got out to pay the man inside. He came out with a candy bar in hand and began to pump in the gas, whistling slightly and smiling at the tiny snow flakes that began drifting down from the clouds.

He gasped as something hard pressed into his back and his body froze as an arm slipped around his waist.

His mind flew. Who . . . what . . .?

"Steady now," whispered a husky voice in his ear. "Keep pumping the gas, and don’t make any funny moves." The man pressed the thing, which Duo figured was a gun, deeper into his back. "Don’t make me hurt you."

Duo struggled to keep his hand steady as he kept his finger squeezing the nozzle. He was scared out of his wits, and when he was scared, he did the one thing he did best . . . talk.

"O-okay, buddy, you got it! I’ve never been shot before, but I imagine it hurts like heck and it’s pretty bloody . . . I’d like to avoid all that. You . . . umm, just tell me when to stop, you know, cuz I don’t wanna have to pay more money for some gas, and that nice guy in the station might get mad if I just drive away without paying again. It’s pre-pay, in case you didn’t notice and-"

A rough, cold hand was placed over Duo’s and guided the nozzle slowly back to it’s place at the gas tank, effectively shutting Duo up. The frigid touch sent shivers of some unidentifiable emotion racing up his spine, but he knew that not all of it was fear. Duo began to shaking now, but not from the cold. What would happen next?

Duo squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the sound of a gun shot and the excruciating pain that was sure to follow, but was surprised when the man roughly grabbed Duo’s arm and shoved him into the car, pushing him over into the passenger seat. Duo immediately began to squirm away, reaching for the door handle. If he could just get out and call for help . . .

"No you don’t!" The man threw himself over Duo’s body and grabbed his wrists, pulling them down to his sides. Duo squeezed his eyes closed and began to struggle, but the man was strong, too strong for Duo to fight off. He drew his gun again and pointed it directly at Duo’s forehead. "Sit up nice and straight."

Duo drew shaky breaths and complied, sitting up, his back rigid and still against the back of the seat. He held his chin up high, afraid to move his head, just incase the guy got angry and decided to blow out his brains. His eyes couldn’t help but drift down to get a glimpse of his captor as the man began to tie his hands together around the back of the seat with a piece of rope he’d taken out of a dirty brown knapsack hanging at his side. All he could see was a mop of messy brown hair, and nothing more.

After a few yanks on Duo’s arm to make sure that everything was secure, the man sat up, revealing his face. Duo’s eyes widened. He was the most attractive man Duo had ever seen. His slightly familiar face was sharp and defined, his unnatural cobalt eyes slightly narrowed, partially covered with locks of brown hair, making him look incredibly young. Well, who would’ve thought that a kidnapper could look so good . . . Duo’s breath caught as the man leaned over him once more to . . . Duo almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. He secured Duo’s seatbelt before doing his own. Probably doesn’t want me squirming all around the place, I guess . . .

"Keys." the man grunted, his eyes darting back to the station as he drew the gun away from Duo’s head and placed under the car seat.

The braided boy almost released a sigh of thankfulness. Instead, his heart raced with anticipation. Was the man in there looking? Maybe he could somehow tell him that-

"He’s knocked out. No use trying to contact him."

Darn! Duo hung his head with defeat. There was nothing he could do now that he was out of rather useless ideas. Please, God, help me out here! "In my left pocket," he muttered helplessly.

Suddenly Duo wished that he hadn’t put them there. Needless to say, it was weird, having some strange man with a gun reaching into his pocket. He began to blush as his kidnapper’s hand got uncomfortably close to his groin as he reached for the keys and withdrew them.

The car was started and Duo’s captor pulled the car out onto the road in a calm, cool manner, his face stoic, void of any emotion whatsoever. Duo groaned softly and rested his head on the back of the seat, all the while yanking on his bonds with fierceness, but only succeeded in making them tighter than before. Despite that, he continued. He was determined to get free, to get away somehow . . .

And then it seemed as if his prayer would be answered.

The shrill ringing of Duo’s cell phone broke through the silence.

[1] This song is ‘Dancing Queen’ by ABBA, redone by the A*Teens