keire_ke | “Any demonic activity?”

Well, I think I am happier with this fic now. I didn't get as far as with the previous version, but I'm quite happy with it. And yes, the guest star appearance is a poke for a certain someone. *grins*

Heero Yuy was a scientist by heart and an architect by trade. His world was safely contained within the limits of food, sleep, work and taxes. Nothing more, nothing less.

Granted, one would find the occasional argument, a few casual friends and maybe a trip to a bar every once in a while, but on the whole Heero Yuy lived a pretty sheltered life. He considered himself happy, if he ever bothered to consider himself. He could afford a decent life (he could afford more than just decent, but he was content with what he had), an interesting trip during the holidays and, just recently, a house.

A house, which proved to be the undoing of his neat and proper life.

It was a beautiful morning, only a few months after the blue-eyed architect moved into the quiet suburbia. Heero got up as he usually did, only to find out that his morning paper was wedged between the handle and the door. He wondered briefly, having already found out that the paper boy tended to chuck the unsuspecting bundle of news in the general direction of the porch, rarely bothering to even look that way. The issue was dismissed soon enough: it wasn’t his problem, if the lazy asshole finally got off his bike. And that was it.

A few days later, upon getting back home, he found that the glasses in his cupboard, usually arranged by size and volume, were mixed up rather randomly. Now this was a little harder to ignore – yet the cleaning lady, a blonde student from a nearby university, claimed the responsibility soon enough. She tried to inform Heero via cell phone that she couldn’t make it on Friday as usual, and instead came to clean up on Thursday.

While she couldn’t recall rearranging the glasses, the man had let it slide. Nothing was missing, nothing was seriously disturbed – there really wasn’t anything to worry about.

Coming home only to discover that his books were floating in mid-air across his study, was not something he could easily drop.

“What the hell is going on here?” he exclaimed loudly, almost despite himself, standing in the door. He watched, quite stunned, as his favourite novel floated in front of his face and flapped its covers. The man stood there for a few more minutes, trying to comprehend just what exactly was going on, then slammed the doors and grabbed a phone.

“Someone had broken into my house,” he reported dryly, after he heard the cheerful ‘Hello, this is your local police station. How may we help’. “They must have installed something in the study – a lot of my books are flying around. Nothing seems to be missing.”

There was a brief pause on the other side.

“Okay. Sir – I’ll just put you through to our X files, is that all right?” Before Heero had a chance to protest, an annoying tune sounded in his ear. He took a deep breath. He would give them a chance. He would.

“Hello, Ruby Hills, X files department, agent Carrot speaking. How can I help?”

“I have books floating in my study,” Heero explained again, as slowly and clearly as possible.

“Any demonic activity?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Demonic activity. Ritual paintings on the walls, bloods, mangled bodies, strange symbolism, weird noises at night especially,” agent Carrot explained calmly. Heero took a moment to stare at the phone. The man actually sounded as if he was serious. Deciding to play along for the time being, he replied in a clipped, but civil tone that no, so far he observed none of these.

“Oh good. No cause for worries then.” Somewhere in the background the brown-haired man heard a woman ask what was it about. He deduced that agent Carrot covered the mouth piece, yet he could still hear his reply: ‘spirit activity, nothing to worry about’. Then the calming, utterly *nice* voice was back. “Okay sir, it is nothing serious. I’m afraid it happens a lot in these parts. I have a specialist I could send to you, or would you like to make the arrangements yourself?” Well, Heero decided, ‘either he wants to send me to a shrink, or there’s a maniacal mad inventor on the loose. Whichever is true, better to take care of it myself.’

“I would appreciate contact details,” he answered stiffly. The situation was a little too weird for his tastes.

“Very well.” The man on the other side quickly rattled a cell number. “It is hardly the season, so you should be able to arrange a visit soon enough. Should you have any further problems, do not hesitate to call.” Dotting absentmindedly the extension number for Carrot’s office, Heero leaned heavily against the wall.

A few seconds passed in silence, interrupted only by the occasional thump coming from the study. Finally Heero looked at his notes. “Fuck it,” he declared. “Right now I probably need a shrink anyway.” Punching the numbers decisively, he allowed himself to slide to the floor, waiting for a reply.

He didn’t have to wait long. “Exorcisms and spiritual activity, Duo Maxwell speaking.”