Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ And peace on earth ❯ Arguments ( Chapter 2 )

[ A - All Readers ]

Title: And Peace on Earth (2/?)

Author: Enna Namo

Archive: www.mediaminer.org/fanfic

Category: Hmmm, Fluff, I guess, with a little angst and not to forget humor.

Pairings: Well, Treize and Zechs, I haven't decided about the others yet, but it looks as if there will be a little 1+5+2.

Rating: General

Warnings: It is a sweet little "miracle of Christmas"-fic. If you can't stand those, don't read it.

Disclaimer: Who ever owns Gundam Wing should feel very lucky. I don't own it. Thus I feel very miserable and sorrowful. Therefore I wrote this little fluffy story too feel better. But sadly enough I don't get paid for my writing, thus I hope I get some reviews at least.

Chapter Two

The morning sun spread slowly over snow-covered grounds, chasing the lingering shadows away and basking everything in a warm golden light. The rising sun brushed over the tops of the snowdrifts, making the edges glitter in the light. The air was cold, crisp and clear, the wind had ceased and not a leaf stirred. The rays were dancing over the treetops, lighting each and every one like a Christmas tree.

Finally the light reached a small sturdy looking cabin. Two windows left and right of the narrow door blinked invitingly in the first morning light and some sun-beams entered the hut bravely. Soon the small living-room brightened and revealed the peaceful slumbering inhabitants.

General Treize Kushrenada was snoring slightly on his makeshift bed. Half sitting, half lying he gave the impression of total relaxation. His normally slicked back hair was hanging loose around his face and the rays painted red highlights in the tangle. One arm was draped loosely over his chest, the other was hanging limp over the armrest. The blanket had dropped around his waist and was coving his lover half, sock-clad feet poked out the other side.

A similar picture was presented on the couch. Slumped in the corner of it, head lolled back, Zechs still had his arms loosely wrapped around the small body sprawled against his chest. The young boy had buried his face so far into the blanket that only a mop of chestnut hair and the long braid were visible. Barely discernable under the fuzzy blanket, the lithe body was nestled comfortably against the broad chest, moving slightly with every breath the tall blond pilot took.

More and more light entered the cosy room and shiny golden sun-beams spread until even the last dark shadow had fled. It illuminated the fireplace, were the ashy dust was dancing in the still radiating heat. Whether it was those particles or a sunbeam that tickled Treize's nose will remain unknown, but he woke with a thundering sneeze.

On the couch Zechs stirred back to life. Blinking, confused for a moment, he groaned immediately. noticed that his resting position hadn't been comfortable. Carefully he stretched abused muscles, anxious to avoid disturbing the slumbering boy. Curious, he placed a hand on the boy's forehead and smiled with relief.

"Fever gone?"

Blue eyes watched, worried, as Treize bent over the two occupants of the couch.

"Mostly, I guess. He's still warm, but no longer hot."

Relief flowed through Treize, and he stretched languidly. A primal urge made itself known and he frowned a little. With an apologetic smile, he nodded at Zechs, and went into the direction of the bathroom. He noticed something out of the corner of his eyes.

Zechs watched in wonder as Treize's expression changed from puzzled, to realisation, finally settling on amusment. He followed Treize's gaze and Zechs's own eyes widened, stunned. In the background he could hear his friend chuckle with amusement, as Zechs noticed the distinct wet spot on the blanket covering the boy's lower body. Zechs groaned.

"Looks like we forgot something."

He glared at the sniggering general.

"Do you think we can find something to use as a diaper?"

Treize left the room in a hurry, fighting hard to suppress his laughter.

Half an hour later both men were sitting in the kitchen over cups of hot coffee. Treize still couldn't suppress the occasional chuckle and ignored the dark glares Zechs directed at him. Finally the former prince gave in with a resigned sigh. He thought about the young pilot, who now was not only cleaned up but securely diapered with two towels. The boy would feel more than slightly embarrassed once he woke, and Zechs smirked as he remembered the pink flowered towel they had used as a diaper substitute. Treize was right. It was funny!

The blond pilot looked up und met the droll gaze of his general, who's eyes sparkled mischievously. A cheery smile started to spread and moments later the two men gave up on suppressing their laughter and the merry sound filled the air.

But the good mood didn't last long. When they returned to the living room, Treize frowned.

"You do realize that we have to inform the base? After all, they were expecting us. Not arriving there, and us not returning home must have been noticed by now. The boy's escape will have been discovered by now, as well."

"And how are you planning to do that? If you haven't noticed there is no phone around, and we both left without a mobile or a radio unit. And what about the boy? You know what will happen once he is imprisoned again."

Trieze turned his head to avoid his friends eyes. He didn't like this situation one bit, but the boy was an enemy, a condemned terrorist, and they would have to return him to custody… wouldn't they? He strode to the door and opened it reluctantly, but his voice was firm.

"We have to report to the base, Zechs. Once we are back, we can decided what to do about the boy."

The furious howling of a newly awoken snowstorm flung the door open, nearly smashing it against him. A gust of wind whirled into the small room, a swirl of snowflakes in its wake. Swearing, Treize tried to shut the door, but the heavy wind prevented him from doing so. It was tearing at his clothes, throwing snowflakes in his face, tugging at his hair. He grabbed the door handle with both hands and pulled hard. The door wouldn't budge, so he moved around it and started to push.

But it was only when Zechs joined him that they were finally able to close the door and shut the wind out. The exertion, which made them both pant, chilled them to the bone. A startled gasp, followed by a painful moan drew their attention to the couch. Eyes widened, cheeks flushed, the young pilot swayed slightly as he sat up. His face briefly showed an expression of pure terror, although Treize noticed it wasn't directed at him. It was directed at Zechs. But the boy had himself under control within the wink of an eye. He slumped back, threw his uninjured arm over his eyes in a theatrical gesture and groaned pitifully.

"There is a god…. and he hates me."

He lifted the arm a little and mumbled under his breath.

"Where is Heero when you need him?"

He sighed and then dropped the arm completely to glare at both men.

"So, are you going to continue where your minions stopped?" The glare changed into an devilish smirk. "Or better, where I made them stop?"

Both men briefly looked at each other, uncertain whether to be angry, offended or amused. Finally Treize broke the silence.

"Mr. Maxwell. I assure you, though I am certain I'm going to regret it, that you are perfectly safe. And yes, I told my "minions" to interrogate you, but this", he pointed at the injured arm, "isn't what I would call part of an interrogation."

Duo just smirked.

"I'm pretty sure that those responsible for my injuries can give you at least a dozen explanations of why they had to be that rough on me."

Zechs nodded confirming.

"Not everyone is that generous to let an enemy not only live after defeating him, but let him escape as well unharmed. What was the boy's name, Treize?"

Treize sighed deeply and his eyes glazed over with a soft emotion.

"Chang Wufei. I really enjoyed that fight. It has been long since someone dared to challenge me. I'm looking forward to our next encounter. I just wish we wouldn't have to be enemies. Do you think he might change sides?"

"Not even in your dreams." Duo added a dark chuckle to emphasise his statement but soon it turned into a harsh coughing fit. He coiled up in pain and tried to suppress the spasm of his lungs, but that only made it worse. He hardly noticed it when Zechs slipped behind him and started to rub his back. Finally the attack subsided and the exhausted boy drooped back against another warm body. It appeared that this little coughing fit had drowned out the last bits of energy. Treize walked around the couch to kneel beside it.

"Maxwell?"

Duo just grinned wearily at the worried tone of the question but his eyes nearly dropped shut when he answered. "The one and only. Who did you expect after all? Santa Claus?"

Treize couldn't help himself. He started to chuckle, silently, but soon burst out laughing.

"I can't believe it." He managed to say after some time, wiping away some tears from his eyes. "After being beaten like a punching bag, walking 30 miles though a snowstorm, and having just woken from a delirious fever, you still manage to crack one joke after another."

Duo first smiled back at first, but it soon faded into a sad, tired smirk.

"Sometimes a joke is all that is left to show the difference between being dead or alive." At the end of this sentence his voice slurred and became unintelligible. Soon he was drifting back to sleep.

Treize and Zechs looked at each other utterly shocked. It was Zechs who found his voice first.

"What happened to that boy to make him speak like an old man?"

Treize shrugged, fighting against the care with which he wanted to shower the boy, and tore his gaze away from the form in the cot with difficulty. "We can think about that later. For now we have to prepare some food, fresh clothes and bedding. He'll need it the next time he wakes up."

With these words the OZ-General left the little room. A puzzled Zechs followed him with an astonished look in his eyes. Then he grinned to himself and carefully hugged the frail body in his arms.

"Don't worry. You're safe. Sleep well, Duo Maxwell."

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General Treize Kushrenada walked through his castle, heading for the living room. Finally he had managed to contact the base, even though only for a short while. The base commander had only had time to inform him briefly that the base communication system had been damaged badly by the snowstorm, but no one had been injured. He had informed him, that the pilot had managed to flee, but must have died in that snowstorm. Before Treize could answer the connection had broken again.

On his way to the living room, Treize had time to ponder about the last few days and the weird incidents. Like; when every time the snowstorm had calmed down and he had tried to get to the car to radio the base, the wind had picked up furiously. Or the heated discussions he had with his lover about what to do about the boy. Usually Zechs never interfered with Treize's decisions but trusted him to make the right decision. And then, when he, after three days, agreed to first get the young pilot back to the castle for some professional medical treatment, the snowstorm had miraculously ceased over night. Even the roads had been free of snowdrifts, not one had happened on their way back He had expected several snowfalls to block the road after such heavy snowstorms.

Arriving at the castle he was surprised to find that his usually demure staff, the stoic personal butler ahead of all of them, started to fuss and hover over the injured boy as if the boy was his long lost son and not a wanted terrorist. The doctor had been called with amazing speed, a room was prepared, food served, and fitting clothes had been organized. Treize felt a little neglected after his astonishment settled.

But the feeling soon vanished after the doctors report. Treize grimaced at the memory of the lengthy list of injuries. He would have to have a serious talk with the base commander about appropriate interrogation methods. Fortunately the doctor had assured him, that the young pilot was in no immediate danger any more. Nevertheless, the boy was very weak and should rest a lot. And, at the moment, a very determined Zechs was making sure of that.

Treize sighed heavily. His lover had changed these last days. It would have been laughable had the circumstances been different but he had the impression that his lover was trying to compensate for something. What Zechs intended with his behaviour was something Treize hadn't figured yet, but there had to be a reason, other then just acting honourably. Maybe he could talk to his lover in private later, and hopefully he'd get an answer.

He looked at the impressive door leading to the living room. Should he enter? He could hear his lover chuckle deeply at something the young pilot was saying. A coughing fit interrupted their conversation and something was dropped. Seconds later Zechs deep voice permeated through the door, obviously trying to soothe the boy. Treize closed his eyes. He could well imagine the events on the other side of the door. In fact, he had observed these on a regular basis at the cabin. And it had left the stinging feeling of being left out in his heart. He should talk to Zechs, and he should do it soon. It wasn't honourable to be jealous of an injured and ill teenage boy just because his lover acted more affectionate towards the young pilot than he had ever acted towards him.

Treize entered the huge living room of his castle and froze. He had expected seeing his lover hugging the boy, that wasn't a surprise. But seeing his lover wearing a funny Christmas hat was unexpected, though it did make sense. After all, Zechs and a certain gundam pilot had been working on him to agree to having a Christmas tree the entire journey back. But the sight itself was amusing and he allowed himself a low chuckle. Which drew the attention of both pilots to him.

Grinning sheepishly, Duo Maxwell scratched his nose. Zechs, on the other hand, rose abruptly, turned around and started decorating the Christmas tree again. Nodding reassuringly at the braided boy, Treize settled in a chair next to him.

"I see you're having fun so far?"

A mischievous grin spread over the still slightly bruised face and Duo Maxwell spared a glance at the Tallgeese pilot. "Yeah. Where have you been? You've missed all the fun."

"Mr. Maxwell, some of us have to work after all. Oh, and before I forget, official you are now dead. The base commander is absolutely convinced that no one, not even a Gundam pilot, could have survived that snowstorm."

His amused smile vanished immediately when Treize noticed a pained expression fleeting over the young pilots face. But it vanished so fast that one could have been fooled to believe it had never been there at all. A thoughtful expression appeared instead. "Hhmm, on which channel did you reach the base? The official, the secure or the emergency channel?"

Lifting an elegant eyebrow, General Treize looked at the young pilot meaningfully. "Is it important to know which channel I used? You seem to know all of them, anyway?"

"Well, yes, we do eavesdrop on them regularly, but we aren't doing it constantly. Just wanted to know whether or not the others could know about my passing away by now. and that no one is going to risk his life to try and rescue me."

Duo Maxwell let his head drop back against the backrest of the couch, a sad frown on his face and sighed deeply.

"It was the secure channel I used."

Tapping his nose with a finger, the self proclaimed god of death looked as if he was thinking very hard about something. Then he started to count with his fingers, mumbling something under his breath. Finally he stopped and a broad grin spread over his face.

"If you are lucky, or unlucky, you might get your wish and have a second encounter with Wufei. If I'm right, it is his time to look over that channel this week."

"You expect him to avenge your supposed death, Mr. Maxwell?"

The young pilot snorted doubtful and smiled sadly. "Naaa, Wufei would only do it because it would be honourable to avenge a fellow comrade, and show respect, but that has something to do with his upbringing."

"Do I hear a little regret in your voice, oh great Shinigami?" Turning around from his task of decorating the tree, Zechs leered at a suddenly blushing Duo Maxwell. The blush however soon turned into a huge pout.

"Humpf, just because you're getting laid on a regular basis doesn't give you the right to mock me. Your lover isn't the romantic dude either."

Treize Kushrenada almost choked on his tea and spat it across the room.

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The flickering of a computer screen was the only source of light in an otherwise dark room. A dark haired head was bend over the laptop, furiously typing on it. Information was called up, windows were opened and closed, a map downloaded. Then a slender finger pushed a key and a recorded conversation was replayed. Muscles started to tense the longer the exchange went on. At the end a fist hit the stop button and the figure rose, grabbed the laptop and left the room. Seconds later the rapidly beating of feet on wooden stairs could be heard.

"Heero!"

"Wufei?"

Heero Yuy lifted his eyes from the mission report he was reading and gazed expectantly at his obviously shaken comrade. Chang Wufei dropped his laptop on the table and started the recording again. The voices of General Treize Kushrenada and another man, who was soon identified as the commander of an OZ-base, came from the loudspeakers. The japanese boy listened attentively to the exchange of information.

"Do you think that base-commander is right and Duo is dead?"

"I think Kushrenada knows more than he was telling. The line broke to early."

"We should pay him a visit then."

"Shall we inform the other pilots?"

"Agreed. You inform them, I'll provide transportation."

Ice blue eyes locked with black, resolution finding determination. Two curt nods, and both pilots took off to complete their missions.

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Authors note: Okay, I'm evil, sorry. But I warned you that I'm a slow writer. And I didn't expect this story to get this long. Though there might only be one more chapter to go. Thanks go to Arithion and Makoto for beta-reading and some pushing to go on writing.