Gundam Wing Fan Fiction / Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ Preventers: The Griffin Mission ❯ Chapter 1

Chang Wufei stepped out of his battered Jeep, careful not to swing the dented door right off its weakened hinges. Black sneakers scuffed the sidewalk; dark blue jeans clung to the hard muscles of his legs. Strong, tanned hands hastily smoothed out an over-sized tee-shirt, neatly hiding the bulge made by the shoulder holster. The leather strap clung to him like a second skin, but he was used to it by now. Briefly, he wondered if he would have to use the small automatic pistol hidden underneath. Of course, he preferred his Chinese broadsword, but there was no way to hide such a weapon in the city. Baring his tattoo alone was borderline of suicidal in certain areas, where the meaning was known. Thoughtlessly, he rubbed his right forearm, which was spiraled by a sinuous red, black, and gold body, and looked down at the intricate dragon head which lay on the back of his hand. Golden eyes danced at him spiritedly.

Putting his mind to task, Wufei tilted his head back to glance at the apartment building before him. He counted silently as his eyes shifted up and across-eighth floor up, third window from the right. Sally Po's apartment. His obsidian eyes narrowed as he slipped a pair of dark sunglasses over them. He sauntered toward the front door, looking for all the world like a casual, carefree visitor. But behind the shades, his eyes shifted about warily, searching for potential threats. There was no such thing as being too careful. He coolly ignored the doorman's polite greeting and slipped through the revolving glass door, silent as a phantom.

Although he appeared lax and ostensibly nonchalant, his mind teemed with questions. An hour earlier, Sally had called him on the telephone, sounding both tense and excited. Typical woman. Despite his attempts to calm her, she insisted on meeting him at her apartment, complaining about phone lines being insecure. All she would tell him was that she had news about "the Beast."

As he crossed the lobby and headed for the side stairs, Wufei collected his thoughts on his latest assignment, preparing mental notes for the upcoming conversation. "The Beast" was Sally's code name for Griffin, an illegal organization which had been supplying hostile forces with weapons. Among these weapons was raw Evionite ore, a substance which, when combined with a critical combination of curium and chemical 94, was both highly explosive and alarmingly unstable. The faction was evasive at best, but what confounded the Preventers was the fact that there were only five known Evionite deposits in the galaxy. The conditions that were required for Evionite to form were so specific and hard to meet that the ore was one of the most rare substances known to man. The "guess-timated" price for a mere gram of Evionite was around 400,000 American dollars. And, from what Wufei had heard, it was worth every cent. One two-inch cube of the stuff could obliterate a small colony. In a matter of seconds, some rich terrorists could make a very big point.

Wufei came back to the present as his foot fell upon the last step. Subtly patting the small pistol hidden under his shirt, he pushed the Eighth Floor door open. His head popped out in the hallway, swiftly checking either side in a matter of seconds. The hall appeared to be empty, but he still took precautions, noiselessly easing the door closed with his left hand. In one slow, fluid motion, he loosely hooked his right thumb over his waistband. If someone jumped out of a room and attacked him, he wanted his hand to be as close to the pistol as possible.

Sneakers whispering against the carpeting, Wufei turned and headed for room 814. His ears automatically attuned themselves, listening for creeping bad guys. Even in these years after the war, he could not break this habit of remaining overly-suspicious and alert. However, the short stroll was uneventful and the young bishounen soon found himself standing before Sally's door. He raised a loose fist to knock, hesitated, then tried the doorknob. Sally was expecting him anyway. It turned silently and easily. Wufei stepped into the pitch-black room beyond and slipped the shades from his face, attempting to see. Crazy onna! How am I supposed to see anything? He paused. Is she even here? Glowering, he opened his mouth to call out to Sally.

Suddenly the door slammed shut behind him and his arms were forcefully pinned to his sides. Berating himself for letting his guard down, he tensed his muscles and strained against the vise-like grip that restrained him. He grit his teeth and tried to force his arms away from his body, feeling the unseen attacker's grasp weaken. The attacker moved his weight forward to apply more pressure to Wufei's sides. This was all the opportunity the former Gundam pilot needed. He quickly bent over, balancing on the balls of his feet for a second. Then his legs shot out and tangled with his opponent's, yanking the man off-balance. The attacker's arms loosened their hold as he attempted to regain his balance. Simultaneously, Wufei caught the man's forearms and flung him over his head. To his surprise, the man flew farther than intended. Wufei had misjudged the man's weight. In the darkened room, where he could not see his opponent, this was excusable, but puzzling all the same. Wufei had always been a good judge of his opponents.

The man, either by design or chance, went limp just before his body hit the floor. Wufei grimaced, mentally giving the attacker a few bonus points for the decision. Not seriously hurt, the man rose, a dark shadow in the unlit room. Circling the Chinese man, he abruptly feigned a kick at Wufei's chest, then leapt in the air and lashed out at Wufei's head with his other foot. Anticipating such a move as this, Wufei dodged the blow easily. His hands lashed out and caught his opponent's foot, spinning the man in mid-air. The man landed on his back with a forced grunt. Before he could catch his breath, much less regain his footing, Wufei had drawn his pistol and was pressing it to the man's forehead.

Now, Wufei strained to see the overshadowed face, trying to decide whether to allow the attacker to live or to kill him. Eyes narrowed in stony silence, his finger slowly tightened on the trigger. He felt no obligation to cowardly assassins who hid in the dark to await their prey. Only a few more millimeters and there would be one less gutless assassin roaming the streets.

The door opened suddenly and a light switch was struck, illuminating the room. Surprised, Wufei almost dropped the pistol. He swung his head, looking over his shoulder to see an openly amused Sally Po standing in the doorway. A container of ice rested casually against her hip and a bottle of wine dangled from her left hand. Her thin red lips parted in a smile.

"Chang Wufei. How nice to see you. I-ah-see you've already met Amy." She paused and gave the scene before her a good, assessing glance. "And, frankly, if I didn't know you better, some very un-Wufei-like things would pop into my mind."

Wufei's almond-shaped eyes swept back to his assailant, who was now perfectly visible. It was a woman. He had been taken by surprise by a woman. She appeared ordinary, dressed in an over-sized tee-shirt, loose blue jeans, and scuffed sneakers. A plain, lightly tanned face glared up at him from behind his pistol. Long, multi-hued brown hair spilled out onto the floor, cushioning his opponent's head. Naturally pink lips pursed in aggravation and dark brown eyes caught his black ones.

"Um . . . Wufei. . . ." Sally arched a thin eyebrow at him.

The young man was roughly jerked back to the here-and-now as the woman brazenly pushed his pistol aside. As she glared at him, he realized that he was straddling her waist. Oops. Embarrassed, he slipped the pistol back into its small black holster and hastily swung his leg over her body. He rose to his feet, self-consciously smoothing his short black ponytail before proffering his hand. For this out-of-character gesture, he was rewarded with another annoyed glare and his hand was impatiently brushed aside. Despite himself, Wufei nearly smirked in amusement as she rose to her feet and pinned him with an icy glance. If looks could kill. . . .

Sally Po had closed the door behind her. Now she passed the young people and crossed the small living room, setting the ice container on the coffee table before she slowly nestled the green bottle among the cubes. Crossing her arms in mock exasperation, she rounded on them. "May I ask what were you two doing? And with the lights out. . . ." She trailed off, smirking now.

The woman-Amy-snickered softly. Wufei pointedly ignored her, turning his head aside as she answered. "Sally, you told me to be on guard for spies," she reminded the older woman. "When you left to get the wine and ice, I waited on the other side of the door. I could tell by the sound of Wuffie's"-he turned to glare at her, growling under his breath-"footsteps that he wasn't you. So I automatically assumed. . . ."

But Sally wouldn't let it go that easily. "In the dark?" she queried, raising the other eyebrow.

Amy shrugged. "Makes me feel more intimidating," she laughed, flexing her extremely unremarkable biceps.

Finally, Sally laughed and headed for the kitchen door, hesitating just before she left the room. "I trust I can leave you two alone while I get wine glasses? Try not to kill each other off."

Wufei retrieved his shades (they had fallen to the floor in the tussle) and leaned against the wall, blatantly ignoring the woman. He could feel the woman scrutinize him, then heard her uneven footfalls as she crossed the room, obviously limping, and seated herself on the plush couch. Serves her right, he thought.

He concentrated hard on the kitchen door, willing Sally to return. Thankfully, she soon reappeared, carrying three glass goblets. She sat down in the recliner across from the couch and busied herself with the cork in the wine bottle. Pouring equal amounts in the glasses, Sally called solemnly, "Come and join us, Wufei. We have much to discuss."

He stepped forward, only to realize that the only empty seat in the room was on the couch next to Amy. Noisily declaring dishonor on both of the women, he circled the couch and sat as close to the edge as was possible without falling off. Sally took this in with a chuckle, but Amy began to look uncertain of the situation. Good, he smirked. Hence I claim justice. . . .

Sally made herself comfortable and waited until they had both taken a sip of their wine. At their nods of approval, she tasted her own before launching into her story. "Our spies have recently uncovered more information on Griffin. It seems the organization is being headed by an . . . enthusiastic young man of about nineteen years. He calls himself Albatou-" Wufei opened his mouth to protest, but Sally silenced him with a stern look. "I know he's young, but that doesn't mean he is inexperienced. After all, you were only 15 years old when you piloted the Altron Gundam."

Wufei grimaced. "That was different. I was responsible and dedicated. I'd been trained for war for many years-" He broke off as Sally smiled wryly.

"I just ask that you make it a point not to underestimate Albatou," she advised him before taking another sip of wine.

Amy leaned forward, turning her glass in her hands. "How did you learn all of this? I mean-are you sure that your source is trustworthy?"

Sally nodded briefly, dismissing the question with a wave of her hand. "I received this information in a report from three of my best spies. A month ago, they contacted some Griffin representatives based in Blue Heaven." Wufei nodded his head briefly. He had visited the famed outlaw hangout a few times before. "Once they waved some cash around, they made progress through the various levels of the organization. Unfortunately, the closest my spies got to Albatou was speaking to his direct underlings, the Slayers. They wouldn't allow the spies to see the big man himself unless we purchased over five liters of Evionite." Sally grimaced and finished off her wine. "As you know, the Preventers lack the funds necessary to do this. As it was, we were lucky that my spies were able to back out of buying anything.

"Now, I've had some of our more loyal office-workers locate planets which could produce Evionite, not including the ones we already know to have deposits. They have discovered two that meet most of the specifications. Only further exploration of their surfaces will determine whether they meet the other requirements or not."

Sally placed the wine and ice container on the floor and swept assorted papers and magazines from the top of the coffee table. She typed a few coordinates into a small keypad located in a corner. Wufei and Amy leaned forward as two holographic spheres, about an inch in diameter, appeared above the table. Sally pointed at the smaller of the two orbs. "This is Altaos Beta." She tapped the keypad a few times and the image grew five times larger. "Its atmosphere is composed mainly of oxygen with nitrogen and traces of hydrogen. Because it's located so far away from its sun Xenon 6, it's very cold, covered with ice and snow all year long."

She looked across the table, her eyes meeting Wufei's. "As you might know, the two most important conditions for Evionite to form are oxygen and perpetual cold. I would like you, Wufei, to be on the team I send to Altaos Beta." She paused, watching him, searching his face for a reaction.

He shrugged and set his empty wine glass on the floor. "Of course I'll accept the mission. You know I've been bored with all that paper-work you sent me."

Sally smiled and nodded, pleased. "I knew I could count on you. Well, shake hands with your new partner."

Wufei arched a thick black eyebrow. "What? My partner. . . ?" The skin on the back of his neck prickled and he was reminded of the other woman's presence. He turned to face her, nearly falling off the couch. To his dismay, she grinned crookedly before lifting her glass to her lips, hiding her face behind the wine.

"Her? My partner?" he choked. "You forget, Sally Po; I work alone. Besides, she's a-" He broke off before he completed his sentence, which would have sealed his doom.

Sally and her friend exchanged an amused glance before bursting out laughing. "A woman?" Sally chuckled, her voice musical with laughter. "Wufei, I chose her carefully. You know I always have my reasons. Your particular . . . talents will augment one another. And I think that you will agree that, for a woman"-Wufei glowered at the mocking tone in her voice-"she is quite capable."

Grumbling under his breath, Wufei turned to the woman, judiciously weighing her with his eyes. He already knew she could fight well enough to keep from getting killed in most situations. Other than that, she looked totally unqualified. He could certainly see nothing remarkable about her. On top of that, women were trouble. They were weak, a handicap to any man foolish enough to claim one. He would never allow himself to be burdened by such a thing. He supposed he would have to take care of the weakling woman throughout the entire mission. He grimaced, predicting that, left to her own devices, she wouldn't last the first day.

Feeling trapped, Wufei extended his hand and allowed her to shake it. She did so, heartily pumping his entire arm. Surprised, he looked up to see a corner of her mouth twitch before she broke out into a sunny grin that reminded him of Duo. Damn-the last thing he needed was another over-enthusiastic colleague.

Sally nodded and stood, collecting the wine glasses. "Good. Now, everything has already been arranged. Your equipment is all being moved to Quatre's house."

Quatre's? Wufei thought back to the last time he had seen the space-headed boy. It had been about five years ago, when they had defeated Mariemaya. After Wufei had joined forces with Sally, he became immersed in his work, losing all contact with his former companions for the second time in his life. He sighed. It had been so nice . . . working alone.

Now Sally slipped Wufei a piece of paper with Quatre's address and continued speaking as she walked into the kitchen. "You'll be staying at Quatre's country house because it's only fifteen minutes from my office. Get all reacquainted and have your fun tonight." She winked at the Chinaman. "I want to see you both tomorrow at 8 am sharp to give you the details about the mission. Then we'll get a bit of training in before you leave in five days. Good-bye, Amy . . . Wufei. Have a nice day."

And, just like that, they were dismissed. Amy unfolded her long legs and stood slowly, stretching with a cat-like grace. She crossed her arms over her chest, cocked her head to one side, and flashed a saucy grin at the ex-pilot. "Ready to saddle up, partner?" she drawled slowly. Wufei's face darkened. He hated western American accents. Then she laughed. "Well; I can see who'll be doing the talking on this team."

Muttering select Chinese proverbs under his breath, he followed the woman as she walked across the room, carefully favoring her ankle, and opened the door. To his annoyance, she bowed elaborately and gestured toward the hall. Scowling, Wufei patted his pistol and strode past her. He could only hope that it was a short mission.

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Amy Clark slid into the passenger seat of the beat-up navy Jeep. Oddly enough, this wasn't the sort of vehicle she imagined the grim-albeit handsome-Chinese man would drive. She stared ahead until she felt the Jeep bob under Wufei's added weight. She heard the keys jingle, the engine rev, and they were on their way. Wufei made no attempt at conversation, so she entertained herself by imagining various ways through which she could initiate one. This became very tedious, so she soon gave up and turned to the window, watching as they drove out of the city's skyscraper district and moved on past progressively smaller buildings. Within ten minutes, the city had fallen away and they were traveling the rough country roads. Wufei rolled down the windows and slipped into some sort of trance, his eyes pasted on the road in front of him.

Her ankle annoyed her; the pain was minute, but it was there. Sneaking a glimpse at the mysterious Wufei, she idly wondered who he was. Well, everyone knew of Chang Wufei . . . and the other former Gundam pilots, though she hadn't paid much attention to the others. But most people, herself included, just heard what the media spoon-fed them. Right now she'd give just about anything to know the important stuff-the personal stuff. What kind of a person was he? And why he was so . . . eh? Maybe his ponytail was too tight. Now that she thought about it, she decided that that would probably piss her off, too. Or what about that peculiar dragon tattoo on his right arm? Some weird oriental custom? No answers. Sally hadn't told her much during their conversation earlier that day. The older woman seemed to harbor maternal sentiments for the former pilot. Amy tried to continue along this vein of thought, but found herself getting nowhere very fast.

She was just about to launch into a rather loud rendition of 99 Bottles of Beer when his lips parted. "Chang Wufei," he grunted.

Startled, Amy turned to gawk at him, taking in his harsh, seemingly impenetrable countenance. His mouth tightened in irritation and he glanced at her. "Don't you speak, woman? I thought you would have talked my ears off by now."

Amy's face flushed hotly. She shifted her gaze to the passing country-side. "I'm Amy; Amy Clark. I-ah-would talk, but . . . ahm. . . . What do you want to talk about?"

His mouth quirked slightly. "Nothing. It was just a. . . ." he glanced across the seat again. "Um, what do you like to do?" Get a little lamer, Chang, he thought, giving himself a swift mental kick. This mission is already doomed to failure if I can't even talk with her.

But the question had turned Amy's head back in his direction. She grinned that same good-humored, lop-sided grin at him. "Draw. I love drawing. Yup. People mostly. Interesting people." She was babbling, she knew, but she hoped to catch his interest. "Ya know . . . you'd be fun to draw. You have such a handsome face. Beautiful oriental features." She shifted forward, trying to see more of his face. "What would be the most challenging would be capturing that look in your eyes. Sadness. Yes, I think it's sorrow, or perhaps loss. That makes me curious-what's your history? But-"

She trailed off, suddenly aware that Wufei had turned and was now observing her. She was about to advise him to watch the road when she realized that the Jeep was at a dead standstill right in the middle of the road. Blushing, she closed her mouth and sat back in the seat. He simply sat there, staring at her. Consciously controlling her breathing, Amy turned and hazarded a glance at his face. What she saw there surprised her. Wufei's eyes were unfocused, as if he were far away. His expression could only be described as lost.

Swallowing uncomfortably, Amy cleared her throat noisily. Quirking an eyebrow, she passed her hand back and forth in front of his face. "Wufei? Are you all right?"

The young man blinked and looked about. He appeared surprised at first, but quickly accelerated the Jeep and continued to Quatre's country house.

"I enjoy meditation and the martial art of kung-fu." The soft quality in his voice startled Amy, She saw the corner of his mouth twitch slightly. "I use both my body and my sword as weapons. I find the combination to be quite effective."

At the mention of a sword, Amy's eyes lit up. "You have a sword?! Where? Can I see it? Can I use it? Will you teach me?"

Wufei's eyes widened at the woman's apparent interest in his sword. "I will show it to you once I get the equipment Sally is sending us. The mission comes first."

She appeared to be satisfied with this, but continued to speak of various styles and makes of swords, daggers, and, as she put it, "weapons of mass destruction." Her arms flew about wildly as she spoke, attempting to illustrate various weapons she had seen. He couldn't help but laugh at her strange fascination with blood grooves.

"Oi, Wu-man! Are you laughing or do you have indigestion?"

Wufei, recognizing the deep voice, wondered for an instant, how had Duo Maxwell gotten into his Jeep? But, as Wufei looked about, he realized that he had just pulled into Quatre's driveway. And, to his dismay, he was being greeted by a rather loud and obnoxious welcoming-party-of-one.

Duo bounded up to the parked Jeep, his ludicrously long braid flowing sinuously behind him. When he reached the vehicle, Duo latched onto the window frame and thrust his head inside. "Miss me, Wuffie?" The braided man, grinning delightedly, obviously didn't hear Wufei's negative response. Instead, he leaned in farther, looking across at Amy. "Who's that? Did you finally pick up a girl, Wu-man? About time you learned about the benefits of cozying up to the `fairer sex.' Heh." Then, addressing Amy, he confided, "Wu, here, sleeps with a stuffed dragon named Puffy, you know. You might have to teach him a thing or two."

Amy started to laugh until the bishounen spoke to her. Teach him a thing or two?! "Ahm . . . I. . . ," she stammered, at a loss for words.

It so happened that she was rescued from her uncomfortable position by an unlikely knight in shining armor; for, just then, Wufei-finding his nose being attacked be several rebellious hairs which had escaped Duo's braid-sneezed loudly. Duo froze in mid-wink, a stupefied expression on his rounded face. Hesitantly, he reached up and patted his dark-now damp-brown locks.

"WUUUUUUU~uuuuuu!" he wailed. "My hair! Now I have to wash it again, dammit!" He pushed himself away from the Jeep and stalked into the three-story house. Watching the long brown braid bob away, Amy stifled a giggle. "Bless you," she put in before snickering.

Wufei just shook his head and rubbed his nose irritably. He got out of the Jeep and strode to the house so quickly that Amy hardly had time to open the Jeep door before he disappeared inside. As she strolled up the neat stone walkway, she looked around at the prettiness of Quatre's country house. This guy must be pretty darn rich to afford the stuff she was seeing. The house was a three-story deal, probably only about two rooms short of a bona fide mansion. If this wasn't the stereotypical rich-man's country paradise, she didn't know what was. The early June sun was shining warmly, horses neighed happily from somewhere behind the house, even the freakin' birds were singing. It was almost too much. Feeling a little queasy, she quickened her pace.

When she reached the door, she was met by a small chorus of "Wufei"s. A preppy-looking blond boy was hugging Wufei, who managed to put up with the unwanted attention with a dignified grimace. Behind him, two women-one a familiar-looking short brunette, the other a blond with scary cockroach-like eyebrows-and a freakish hairspray-addict were watching, small smiles lighting up their faces. Then the blond boy stepped back, taking in the sight of the Chinese man who had once been his colleague. "Chang Wufei! We haven't seen you in ages! Well, maybe not ages, but it seems like it. You really should visit us more often. Every else has kept in touch-even Heero. In fact, we're having a reunion today. You did get my invitation, didn't you?"

Wufei grimaced. He remembered depositing the gold-embossed envelope directly into the trashcan. "Well, the reason I'm here now-"

The hairspray-addict, who had been nodding silently, now spoke up. "We know. Quatre just got off the phone with Sally," he put in simply.

The blond boy-Quatre-nodded. "She briefed me on your mission. Duo was pretty jealous when he heard; he's tired of paper-pushing."

"Shouldn't we tell the others that Wufei's here?" The brunet spoke as if the words were being forced from his throat. Hearing his voice, the shorter of the women hugged his arm cheerfully.

"Oh, yes, certainly!" Quatre cried emphatically. "But first, I want to see. . . ." He leaned to one side, peering behind Wufei to catch sight of Amy. "Ah! Sally told me that our Solitary Dragon has a new partner. We were hoping it would be a- YEEE-OWCH!!!!"

Quatre shot a pained look at the hairspray-addict as the brunet finished stomping on his foot. He made a somewhat strangled sound, then turned to Amy again. "Hi, I'm Quatre Rebarba Winner and this is my best friend, Trowa Barton." He shot a strained look at the other man before extending his arm to include the women. "These are our wives."

The shorter of the two stepped forward, dragging the hairsp- Trowa with her. "Hi! I'm Kim Barton," she giggled. "I've heard so much about you, Wufei. It's great to finally meet you."

Amy blinked and stepped forward. "Kim?! It is you; I wasn't sure." She paused, seeing uncertainty in the woman's eyes. "I'm Amy Clark. You know . . . ah . . . Phoenix."

Kim's face lit up as she smiled amiably, giggling like a chipmunk. "Sure I remember. I haven't seen you since our little . . . ah . . . group broke up. How've you been? What've you been up to?"

"Eh, I've been taking on jobs here and there, trying to find other uses for my . . . talent. Sally finally persuaded me to join the Preventers about a year ago. How about you? Kept in touch with anyone?"

"Well, sorta. But you'll find out soon enough." Kim's complacent grin told Amy that she had a secret-one that wouldn't be divulged until the shorter woman deemed it timely.

The other woman tossed her head haughtily, causing the long blond hair to swish back and forth. She nodded formally at Wufei, then turned to Amy. "I'm Dorothy Cata-" she paused, then took Quatre's arm in her slender hands. "Dorothy Winner."

Quatre smiled worshipfully at Dorothy before turning back to Wufei, "Heero is downstairs now. Do you want to see him?" Wufei started to shake his head in the negative, but Quatre had already seized the taller Chinaman's arm and was leading him away. Trowa motioned for Amy to follow the two men downstairs. As she rounded the corner, he settled onto the couch with Kim while Dorothy left the room.

Amy, Quatre, and Wufei descended a steep flight of stairs that lead to an exasperatingly clean basement. Quatre led the partners to the far end. Behind a thick lead door, a man with a shock of chestnut brown hair stood hunched over a worktable, his back toward the visitors. For a few seconds, Amy caught a pretty nice view of the man's spandex-clad posterior. Upon hearing the door open, he turned to face them, a small cylindrical device cupped reverently in his palm.

"Heero! Wufei's here for a visit," Quatre called. Then he leaned toward Amy and added, "Heero Yuy makes self-destruct devises for the Preventers. Of course, we wouldn't use them unless a dire emergency presented itself." He looked appalled at the thought.

Wufei crossed his arms and nodded formally at the shrink-wrapped man. "Yuy."

Heero was much less enthusiastic than even Wufei. Dark cobalt-blue eyes shifted between Amy and Wufei, stonily sizing them up. Finally, he expelled a gruff "Hn" and turned back to the worktable. Quatre sighed and shepherded the others out the door and closed it softly behind him before leading them up the stairs.

As Amy reached the last step, the house's foundation shook violently and a loud explosion assaulted her ears. Horrified, she tapped Quatre's shoulder. "What happened? Did Heero-"

He merely shrugged uncomfortably. "Oh, that happens all the time."

"But Heero-"

"He's fine," Quatre assured her. "He always is. The worst that ever happens is the worktable explodes and chunks of wood embed themselves in his head. But after falling out of his mobile suits for so long, that's nothing."

Quatre laughed and flashed a toothy grin at her. She, shuddered, suddenly reminded of one of those creepy whitening paste commercials on TV. He seemed to mistake this for something else because he frowned sympathetically. "I'm sorry; how inconsiderate of me. Amy, We've already prepared a room for you upstairs. Second floor, turn left, it's all the way at the end of the hall. Wufei, your room is still ready and still waiting for you after all these years. You two can wash up or just rest until dinner."

As they headed up the stairs, Amy turned to Wufei. "Ah, interesting group of friends, there."

Black almond-shaped eyes searched her face before the young man nodded brusquely and strode down the wing to his room. Amy watched him until he disappeared through a doorway, a musing expression visible on her face. She then proceeded down the same wing and found her room, which, to her delight, had been decorated in white and azure. She threw her Preventers jacket to the floor and fell backwards across the large bed. Suddenly tired, she closed her eyes. She'd only nap for a few minutes. . . .

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