Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ DiD v. tKiSA ❯ Where the Hell Is My Self-Destruct Button? ( Chapter 12 )

Disclaimer: The direct quotation and minor paraphrasing when Duo is serenaded is from the Mel Brooks movie "Robin Hood: Men in Tights". The narrative prose is mine, the serenade is not. This situation is intended as a Gundam Wing parody.

Where the Hell Is My Self-Destruct Button?

Quatre sighed and vaguely wondered what he'd ever done to Duo or Heero to deserve this. "It will be better in the morning, Relena."

"Somehow, I don' tink so," she grumbled, blinking owlishly. "Iss like dis. I gots to follow `Eero round ever'where. Ever'where man. I dint go into no men's room `cause iss just gross, but I gots to follow him `round goin' `Eeeeero like I ain't gots no brain. You know what I'm shayin'?"

"I don't think you should have anymore of that."

"Nonshensh," Relena waved a hand airily and slugged back a shot of tea. Duo had made it. "Dish ish good tea. Besht tea I ever drunk. `Cept the firsht cup."

"Tequila," Trowa said.

Quatre sighed.

"Anyway. I don't even like `Eero, you know what I'm shayin'? He'sh rude." Relena giggled. "And did you shee my horsh? It's embarrashing. Embarrashing, I tell you! Ever'one likes to make fun o' me `cause I got that pink horsh and the Barbie bedroom, but I dint pick `em out. Sure, I like pink much as th' next princhesh, but not that much. It'sh just not dig, dig, right. It'sh not me. I'm not like dat. At all. Why's ever'body think I'm like that? I'm jusht me."

"I know how you feel, Relena, but--"

"You don't!" She pounded her fists on the table. "Gawd that felt good. No wunner Duo does it. You don't know nuthin' `bout me! Ever'body tinks dat I'm shome short of patho, patho uh shycho chick that has nuthin' better ta do than chase `Eero round and round and round. You know how much it hurtsh to shcream `Eeeeeeeeeeero! all th' time? I gots to buy stock in throat lozenges. Ya know?"

Quatre snorted. "Yeah, I know. Everybody thinks I'm an angel. I'm a terrorist. I kill people. I blow people up. But what do people do? They think I'm an angel! I've been thinking of getting a mohawk and dying it black. Maybe if I go goth, people'll figure out that I'm not some sweet, innocent little one to stick up on the cherub pedestal. And what in the hell is it with all the giggling? I'm a teenaged male, I do not giggle! You know how hard it is to get laid?"

Trowa abruptly grinned.

"Well, not that hard, but still! And what is with the mansions? I do not own an isolated yet wonderfully scenic mansion with a wonderfully convenient and fully stocked gundam hangar in every backwater berg on the planet and colonies."

Relena blinked. "Hey, we're havin' a drunken convershation about me." She pressed her cheek to the table. "I feel so used, you know? Like I only matter as shome kinda plot device, you know what I'm sayin'? Don't I get shome character devel'pment, too?"

"Yeah, I know. Like you're only there to make sure Duo and Heero get together."

"Egshactly! It'sh like my whole purpose in life is to make sure that there's a villain, ya know? I'm a pashifisht! I don't hate nobody. `Specially not my own shishter." Relena snorted. "Shome shishter she is. I'm sho shleepy." A loud snore erupted and Relena's face screwed up into something not so pretty.

Quatre sighed again. "Should we leave her there?"

"She'll be okay." Trowa stood up. "C'mon little one, let's go watch TV."

Quatre glared.

"Just kidding, my angel."

"You don't want to get any tonight, do you?"

Trowa didn't bother to look contrite, he just smirked and tugged Quatre into the den. "You know I adore you, my sweet little one."

"In Napoli where love is king, when boy meets girl, er, boy here's what they say."

Quatre jerked his arm free and threw himself on one end of the couch. Trowa curled up beside him and slipped his fingers through his hair.

Quatre wasn't in the mood to be appeased just yet. "You know I hate being called that stuff."

Trowa kissed his forehead. "I was just teasing you."

He sniffed and stared at Trowa's knees, so Trowa wouldn't figure out that he'd been forgiven just yet. He seriously liked it when Trowa went into let's-make-up-to-Quatre overdrive. Seriously liked it. He stuck out his bottom lip and worked the pout, just to be sure, then blinked his big, wounded eyes up at Trowa.

"When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that's amore."

"You have the sexiest eyes, killer," Trowa murmured in a husky voice.

"Killer? Killer?"

"Studmuffin?"

"Trowa!"

"How about god of fuck?"

Quatre frowned. "I really like it when you call me Fuck Me Quatre. I like that nickname."

Trowa grinned, his lips actually quirking far enough to show a flash of even, white teeth. "You're my own little Fuck Me Quatre doll. You're what I've always wanted for Christmas but was too shy to ask Santa for."

Quatre went for stern and came up with a twist between disgruntled and amused. "You mean too naughty to ask Santa for."

"When the world seems to shine like you've had too much wine, that's amore."

"I've been a bad boy," Trowa growled, then sucked one of Quatre's fingers into his mouth. Quatre tried to swallow the moan. He licked Quatre's palm. "I've been a very bad boy, Fuck Me Quatre."

"Uh," was the only intelligent thing Quatre could think to groan, at length, from the very base of his co--uh, say. Yeah. Say. Just like that. Oh yeah, just like that.

"I'm going to be a very, very bad boy," Trowa added in that deep, sexy voice that set off every ductless gland Quatre owned and then those lips attached themselves to Quatre's.

Quatre loved the way Trowa kissed. Adored it. Put up with being called little one every once in a while just because of Trowa's kisses. Left behind the Winner Heirdom and mansions scattered just about everywhere just for Trowa's kisses. Well, it was better than admitting that he ran like hell because he had way too many sisters and oh my Trowa's kisses.

Trowa kissed with his entire body. Trowa's hair spilled along his cheek, shifting aside to tickle and tease Quatre's face. He could feel every ticklish end of those wonderful bangs tasting the flesh on his cheek, his jaw, and his throat.

"Bells'll ring ting-a-ling-a-ling ting-a-ling-a-ling, and you'll sing Vita Bella."

His lips clung, they licked, they moved. Like now, Trowa's lips rubbed against his--

"Hearts'll play tippi-tippi-tay tippi-tippi-tay, like a gay tarantella."

"Goddammit Duo!"

"When the stars make you drool joost-a like pasta fazool, that's amore."

Trowa smiled gently, pulled the throw pillow from behind Quatre, and leaned over the back of the sofa.

"When you dance down the street with--OW! Tro, knock it off! That hurts!"

Trowa whacked Duo a few more times with the pillow, he was nothing if not thorough, and Quatre smiled at him. "Go away, Duo."

Trowa gave Duo another whack before the annoying princess surged to his feet, fisted hands pressed into his sides. "Here I am, trying to be a nice guy and providing you with a little mood music to help out with the romance and this is the thanks I get?"

"You're singing about pizza and you sound like a dying cat," Quatre pointed out. "That's not romantic."

"Pish."

"Did you just say pish?" Quatre reached for the throw pillow to get a few good whacks of his own in.

Duo sniffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "If you wanna be that way, fine. I know when I'm not wanted. Far be it from me to hang around, trying to help my friends out, when I'm getting nothing for my generosity but abuse. I'll just take myself off and sit on the battlements. Alone. Wondering what I did so wrong that my friends had to beat me and make fun of me when all I wanted was--"

"I'm going to strangle you," Trowa said in a tone usually found on the average bored telemarketer.

"Fine. I'll shut up. I'll close my mouth. I won't say another effin' word if that makes you happy." Duo stomped to an armchair and flopped into it, the skirt flying up in an unladylike fashion. He huffed and stared at them.

Trowa closed his eyes. Quatre blinked. "Duo, go away."

Duo sucked his lips into his mouth and shook his head.

"Duo."

Duo shook his head and yanked on his braid.

"I'm going to kill him," Trowa stated flatly and dumped Quatre on the couch. Duo's eyes widened, then he squealed and took off for the great hall when Trowa stood up. "Now where were we?"

.

Thirty minutes later....

.

"Barton, have you seen the baka?" Heero audibly paused. "Why are you naked?"

Quatre opened his eyes and groaned in frustration. How could Duo keep interrupting them without even being there? It was a plot, a wicked, despicable plot perpetrated by a sexually frustrated rat to make sure no one else got any, either.

Heero stepped up next to the couch, his impassive face swimming somewhere over Trowa's left shoulder. "Are you having sex?"

"Yes. Go away." Trowa was nothing if not succinct. Quatre frequently appreciated that quality.

"I have questions," Heero announced, his face shifting from barely-there confusion directly into mission mode. "What are the proper locales for sex? The instruction I have received indicated that sex was perpetrated in a bed. How does one go about initiating sex?"

Trowa's jaws flexed and his eyes narrowed dangerously. "I'm going to--"

Quatre cut him off. Nothing like death threats to ruin an amorous mood. "Heero, go ask Wufei. Wufei is a scholar and he knows many things."

"Chang does not like discussing sex." Heero's face twisted into a distinctly put out expression. "He would not even tell me what the baka meant when he said that Barton was playing `hide the salami' with you. Duo stated that it had to do with sexual activities, but not in what manner." The put out expression shifted to confusion. "What does salami have to do with sex?"

Trowa groaned and abruptly collapsed on top of Quatre. "I don't think I can get it back up now."

Quatre rubbed Trowa's back soothingly. "Me neither."

Heero glared impatiently. "Salami?"

Quatre briefly considered dishing out his own death threats. "Heero, go find Duo and stick your tongue in his mouth. He'll take it from there."

Heero looked briefly worried. "Will I need a salami?"

"No!" With an effort, Quatre moderated his tone. It certainly didn't help that Trowa was now snickering and that made his body vibrate in a most interesting fashion all along Quatre's. "No. Just go find Duo and kiss him."

"Ninmu ryoukai." Heero's dubious expression was no match for his mission-accepted face. "Have you seen him?"

"He left here about half an hour ago." Quatre suppressed a moan. Trowa, that evil sex-beast, was licking his neck.

Heero's mission face took a detour back into a light death glare. "Where was he going?"

"Mmm, I don't know. He ran out." Quatre tried not to pant like a teenaged boy in heat, nevermind that he was a teenaged boy in heat. Trowa's tongue was just as acrobatic as his body.

"If he returns, do not let him leave," Heero ordered, the mission face plastering itself back on.

.

Twenty minutes later....

.

Trowa eased another finger inside of Quatre, who gasped, arching his body onto those wonderful fingers. Trowa's tongue lolled slowly along the length of his left thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Those fingers spread, easing deeper in--

"Aaaaaaaaaahhh!"

Those fingers spread, easing dee--

"Chang!" Heero bellowed. "Where is my self-destruct button!?"

Those fingers spre-

"Heeeeeeeeero! Wait my love!"

Those fing--

"Omae o korosu!"

"It's an evil plot," Quatre growled.

Heero burst into the room, looking incredibly upset for a man with little facial expression. Trowa rolled to cuddle up against Quatre's side and pulled a blanket over them. Relena, her fingers pressed to her temples, staggered in after him.

"Winner, have you seen my self-destruct button?" Heero demanded.

Quatre blinked. Self-destruct button? "Why do you need it?"

Heero sent a fully loaded death-glare to Relena. "Relena has arranged things."

Relena winced. "Must you shout? My head aches dreadfully."

Quatre was mystified. "Arranged things?"

She smiled through her bloodshot eyes. "It'll all work out perfectly. Even as we speak, Duo is on his way to Oz to marry Tray, er, Tree, um, Kash--"

"Treize Khushrenada," Heero snarled.

Relena beamed. The smile was at half-wattage and looked vaguely queasy, but it was a beaming smile nevertheless. Never let it be said that the Princess Relena couldn't rise to an occasion. "Yes, him. Thank you, darling. Duo will marry that person and I will marry Heero. Everyone will be blissfully happy!"

Quatre frowned. "Duo wants to marry Treize Khushrenada?"

Heero flinched and covered the move with a shrug. "Have you seen my self-destruct button, Winner?"

Quatre ignored that. "I don't understand, why would Duo want to marry Treize Khushrenada?"

"I'm never going to have sex," Heero muttered, flipping up the cushions on the chair he'd sat in when they watched those movies.

"Of course you'll have sex, my love," Relena soothed. "After we're married, of course."

"I think I'm going to be sick." Heero grimaced. His voice rose distinctly in pitch. "Dammit, where's that self-destruct button!?"

Quatre blinked at Heero, then shook his head. "Back to Duo. He was against marriage at breakfast. Why did he suddenly decide to change his mind?"

Heero's brow furrowed. Apparently that thought hadn't occurred to him.

"The important thing here is that everyone is going to be blissfully happy!" Relena smiled brightly.

Quatre lifted an eyebrow. "Duo didn't agree to this arrangement, did he?"

"You know Duo, she's always been silly about things. Sometimes it's up to those who love her to look after her best interests whether she likes it or not." Relena's smile brightened and she waved a hand dismissively.

Quatre relaxed a little. "Nothing to worry about then, Heero. Duo will be back soon. You know how much of an escape artist he is."

Heero relaxed as well.

Relena kept smiling.

"What did you do, Princess?" Trowa demanded coldly.

Relena's smile valiantly kept to her lips, even though she backed a few steps and put a chair between herself and Trowa. "N-nothing! Nothing that a concerned and loving girl wouldn't do for her precious, older sister."

Trowa shifted, sitting up and narrowing his eyes.

Her fingers trembled on the back of the chair and her smile gamely kept the corners of her mouth turned up.

Trowa leaned forward.

"They didn't hurt her! Honest! They promised to use just enough sedative to get her all the way to Oz! They only have to use a tranquilizer gun on her once! After that, they'll just use needles to keep her calm so she doesn't hurt herself before her wedding! Honest! Heero! Save me!"

"Omae o korosu!" Heero bellowed.

"Oh, Heero! I love you, too!"

Quatre grabbed Trowa by the shoulders to keep him from leaping at the Princess. It wasn't that he was particularly worried about Trowa killing the girl; it was that he didn't want anyone else to see Trowa naked. So he was a bit possessive. He didn't think of it as a bad thing. "Heero, you don't have time for that. You have to go and rescue Duo from Oz. Go get Wufei so we can begin mission planning immediately. We'll meet in the great hall. Trowa, we'll need maps and any intelligence on Oz we have--"

"I'll bring my laptop," Heero stated.

Quatre nodded. "Good."

"Do you think that Duo will let me rescue him this time?" Heero actually looked a little worried.

Quatre smiled. "Of course, Heero." He made a mental note to bring a tranquilizer gun along on the rescue.

.

Just outside the castle at Oh-Dark-Thirty....

.

"I still do not see why we must rescue Maxwell. He is perfectly capable of returning on his own." Wufei settled his hands more firmly around the coffee thermos in his lap.

"Not so loud, Wufei," Quatre hissed. "You don't want to wake her up."

Heero glared at Wufei, promising instant retribution if he woke her up.

"I do not see why we must bring that beast along with us." Wufei tossed a malignant look at the black horse that Trowa was ponying. Deathscythe had developed an unhealthy fixation with Shenlong's rump. Wufei had no wish to encourage such perverted behavior.

"Duo misses him," Heero stated flatly.

Wufei snorted in disgust. "This is pointless!"

Quatre ground his teeth in frustration. "If you don't want to help, you can stay home!"

Wufei's horrified gasp said it all, but that never stopped him. "Absolutely not! I will not remain with that, that, onna of Yuy's--"

Heero bristled. "She's not mine!"

"--while the rest of you ride to battle! A member of the Dragon Clan does not hide at home behind some woman's skirts when a comrade is in peril."

Trowa rolled his eye. "You just didn't want to be left alone with the Princess."

Wufei glared.

.

Deep within the depths of the Oz....

.

Duo Maxwell groaned and licked his lips. His mouth felt like it had been stuffed full of Heero's spandex fresh from the moat and his head was throbbing. Worse, his left arm felt like someone had been using it for a pincushion.

"You're finally awake, Princess."

He knew that voice. It was low pitched and ran over his nerves like silk. He blinked against the lights and turned to look at his companion. He blinked again, confused. "T.K.?"

Treize smiled. "Welcome to Oz, my dear."

"Oz? What the fuck?" He forced himself to sit up, even though the roiling in his belly told him it was a mistake.

"We will be married in the morning, on Earth Sphere television."

Duo glared. "I won't marry you."

The elegant smile hardened. "I don't believe it will be at all difficult to persuade you, Princess. You will marry me."

"No!"

The smile slipped. Treize pushed a button on the telephone. "Lady Une, please see that the princess is escorted to the cell block for her attitude adjustment."

A female voice purred, "Yes, Treize-sama."

.

Fifteen minutes later....

.

Duo shrieked in rage at his captors, jerking against the restraints. "You can't do this to me! I'm an American!"

Two of the big, burly Oz officers exchanged confused glances. "I thought you were a Sweeper?"

Duo snorted. "You shouldn't think. You'll overheat your brain cell and then where will you be?"

One of them glared and checked the leather binding one of Duo's wrists to the table. "Don't get smart with me, missy."

Three more big, burly Oz officers filed in. "Samson's on his way," one of them grunted. The three that were already present grinned at each other.

"Samson? Your pet poodle?" Duo tested the give on the leather around his ankles.

Single Brain Cell smirked. "Oh no, Samson is our Token Straight Guy. You're going to love him, Princess."

Duo frowned. "Token straight guy?"

Grunting Boy nodded. "Yeah. It's against the law to discriminate against people for their sexual orientation so we keep at least one straight guy on staff. It's caused a lot of problems because he can't join the Union so he doesn't have to pay dues, but he gets all of the benefits. We're in negotiations for a Token Straight Guy clause in the Union charter."

Another big, burly Oz officer leered at Duo. "Too bad you're not a boy. I'd take a piece of your ass if you were."

Duo didn't think he would enlighten them. "You have a Union?"

Grunting Boy nodded and produced his card. "Sadistic Homosexual Interrogators and Torturers local 869. I'm in charge of recruiting. We supply all of the prison staff for Oz. Except for the Token Straight Guy."

Duo blinked in disbelief.

Grunting Boy grunted. "I see you doubt, gundam scum! We may be homosexual, but we are still sadistic. We provide excellent service. Don't let the gay stereotype fool you. We torture better than anyone."

"But I didn't--"

"Silence!" Single Brain Cell roared. "We will prove it, bitch, I hope you're into pain."

"A one," Grunting Boy grinned evilly, snapping his fingers, "a one, two, three, four. We're men. We're men in tights. We roam around Oz bases looking for fights!"

Leering Dork picked up the harmony. "We're men. We're men in tights! We work for the rich to beat up the poor, that's right!"

The six big, burly Oz officers shuffled into a line using a light jig. They followed this up with a graceful Irish reel, the hard tapping of their feet keeping perfect time.

"We may look like sissies, but watch what you say or else we'll put out your lights!"

The door flew open and a seventh man leaped in, his body arching gracefully. The original six la-la'd and reeled while the newly arrived Lord of the Dance proved beyond a doubt that white men can jump. Well, as long as they're wearing Riverdance make-up.

"We're men! We're men in tights, tights, tights! We're always on guard, defending the people's rights!"

The six began an energetic slip jig.

"When you're in a fix, just call for the men in tights!" All seven of them flexed into a Mr. Olympia posedown. "We're butch!"

Even if he'd been able to, Duo wouldn't have clapped. "I've died and gone to hell."

.

The next evening....

.

"I thought it would take longer to get here," Quatre muttered.

Trowa shrugged. "A more realistic length of time would be boring, apparently."

Wufei snorted. "Enough chatter."

Heero squinted his eyes at the tall, imposing castle nestled in the side of a mountain. It was a typical Oz base. There was a perimeter fence made of barbed moat. Barbed moat? Heero shook his head. There were patrolling guards, machine gun turrets, large fuel and ammo stores situated where they could do a great deal of damage if an enterprising terrorist were to set a few charges. There were four gates, one of which was watched by two guards who had more interest in playing poker than watching the area. The other three gates were patrolled by more dedicated personnel. There were several escape sorts of vehicles, including a sports car, a kick-ass jeep, and enough sleek motorcycles to transport all five of them. For some reason, they were scattered about the compound in places where there were not only lots of shadows around them, but near openings to ventilation shafts. Beyond the open doors of the motor pool, several hulking trucks were parked, one of which was idling by itself for no readily apparent reason. There was one guy in the motor pool, but he was lying on a creeper, sound asleep and drooling.

Quatre peered at the castle through a set of binoculars. "Heero, Wufei, you'll go in and get Duo. Trowa will sit back with Heavyarms and provide support. I'll be here with Sandrock to provide support for Trowa when he runs out of ammo, even though I'm supposed to be monitoring communications back at the safe house. Questions?"

Wufei snorted in contempt and fingered the hilt of his sword. Heero unsquinted his eyes. "Ninmu ryoukai."

"Let's do this," Quatre said, his expression hardening into something he felt would be more appropriate for a battle-scarred tactician.

Wufei and Heero slipped through woods conveniently butting up against the barbed moat near the poker playing guards. They paused, backs to a wall. Heero flicked his fingers, indicating that Wufei should go right and he would go left. Wufei shook his head and flicked his own fingers, indicating that he would go kill the guards first, then he would check out the motorcycles to see if they had sufficient fuel, then he would go left. Heero was to check out the sports car and plant a few charges first. Heero glared at Wufei, his fingers flying as if he were on his laptop. He was going to hack the necessary data first, then he would--

One of the poker playing guards looked up, spotted the Last of the Dragon Clan preparing to make his objections to Heero's plan known with a solid looking fist, and screamed like a girl. Heero whirled toward the sound, drawing his right hand .50 AE. The other poker playing guard looked up, blinked, then clutched at his chest and fell backwards, across the panic button. The squealing guard clutched at his own chest, gasping in obvious agony, then slowly dropped to the floor. Heero blinked and shared a confused look with Wufei before holstering his unfired weapon.

"You! Freeze!

Heero took off running toward the right, Wufei raced off toward the left, and they easily left behind the random, lucky patrol that had run across them.