Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Idle Hands ❯ Two ( Chapter 2 )

Two

Jaden ran a hand through his hair as he sat in their borrowed humvee. He and his men had gone into a city where Rab's dogs were playing—beyond the line of the ESA dipshits and routed the soldiers. Maxwell had insisted they were trying to start another civil war, but Jaden's men had the element of surprise, and then the support of the citizens once it was realized what they were doing. Those citizens had lent them a humvee from their local police station...and it had gone on like that until they had three. The people of those towns were feeding his men and letting them shower and what have you, but things took time—things like noting they were mercenaries and needed payment.

The thing was that the dumbasses with the ESA weren't taking the Brazilian soldiers. There was something about space-hearts coming that was keeping their numbers limited. It was ridiculous. The force that was supposed to keep their entire galaxy safe couldn't even keep a lid on a handful of rebels. They had their reasons, Jaden hadn't been integral to setting up the base at Rio Soma. Rab had done that with a handful of men from the area, or who had contacts in the area. No one knew how deeply involved the Brazilian government was with the rebels. Until those space-hearts actually showed up, it was all up in the air.

His phone started ringing.

Jaden groaned to himself as he pulled out the machine Maxwell had bought him. He wished the man hadn't because it was going off all the damn time.

Matty?

Jaden stared at the name that had appeared on the screen a long moment, then hit the button. "Hello?"

"Jaden?" Matt's voice was hesitant. "Uh...hey, it's Matt. Um..."

"Why are...you...calling me?"

"Trowa asked me to," the young man explained. "Heero's over here hissing and spitting, so I can't talk long...but...um, Trowa's been trying to get ahold of... Heero! Stop!"

Jaden blinked.

"Barton is calling you in two minutes," Yuy snarled into the phone. "Answer him."

The call ended.

Jaden stared at the machine as he cleared the call, looking around. No one was near to hear any of that...and Yuy was damn annoying. It wasn't like he expected more from the man, he was pretty certain that the next time they came face to face, he was going to end up in the hospital—and if that call meant much, Matt's intervention would probably worsen it.

Psychotic bastard.

Jaden pouted at his phone. He'd realized after Maxwell had left that his new found empathy for the five was lacking where the other man was concerned. Admittedly, that had something to do with the fact that he knew the other man would fuck his shit up.

The phone started ringing again.

"I answer, as per orders," he spat immediately.

"Hey, I can't help what Heero does," Barton's voice was calm. "I was asking Matty to let you know I needed to talk to you."

"Why didn't you call?"

"I've called you probably five times today," Barton retorted. "Every time I get a woman telling me you're busy."

Jaden grinned slightly, looking around. Emily Thane had decided he needed a secretary—she was the woman he'd used as a shield to leave Rab. When he was out doing his job, she would take the phone for him.

She hadn't gotten to the point of taking messages though...and a brigadier fucking general of the ESA warranted a message at least...and five times?

"Shit," he muttered. "Sorry about that, she hasn't gotten a chance to give me my message yet. What's up?"

"We found a large mass that looks to be Wing. We're taking a force to it, so your men need to clear out of the area. Take the civilians with you."

"Wow...alright...where at? And what do we get out of it?"

"Give me two seconds to find the city name...and we'll get our booker to settle with you in a couple days."

"Booker?" Jaden demanded. "Barton, I get the severe sensation of being run around here."

"Maybe you didn't hear me," the man's voice turned dangerous. "I called you five times today," he said quietly. "And not once did I get offered to leave you a message or for you to call me back. If you're going to run me, I'm not going out of my way to assist you...which includes seducing the rest of the fucking ESA so you get your permits and supplies."

Jaden hesitated.

"So, our booker will figure shit out with you in a few days, and right now you need to get your ass over to Lateour. I'm forwarding you the information now."

- -

Rabid rubbed at the back of his neck as he considered the city they were approaching. They'd sent an advanced team to clear the area, and he and his men were going in with Wing.

Since the day the ESA had taken out Rio Soma, things hadn't gone in a way he liked. He'd been knocked out and packed around at first, and after coming to, none of the men had bothered asking what he thought as they scrambled around getting things organized. It'd taken them a few days before they even bothered asking for his opinions. Aside from China, there was no nation big enough for them to hide in, though they could probably find somewhere in Africa. The problem with Africa was that none of them would be able to stand the climate—let alone finding room for five thousand men.

...if he still had even that many.

Rab rubbed at his face, looking back over his shoulder. He was in a flat-bed truck, and Wing was strapped under a tarp behind him. It was in working-enough order...but what they really needed was the space ship.

There was a ship in port in Lateour. It was one of the many ships the ESA had auctioned off at the end of the wars. It was outfitted like a cruise ship, so after ousting the nonessentials on board, they'd have a space-worthy craft.

It was time to pull out his arsenal. He had a goodly number of suits stashed around the earth with what remaining people from his network he could get ahold of.

Those suits were armed...and aside from supplies, a space ship would do them well.

It was all in the planning from here on in—he just had be careful.

It was time for the war he'd been promising the ESA since he'd started to move.

They just didn't know it yet.

- -

Quatre knew that feeling cold didn't make sense in light of the climate. He was in Brazil, breathing more water than air—though the trees all over the place belied that notion...or something anyway...but...

Losing Duo had torn something loose from his emotions...had shredded something that he hadn't been aware of until it was gone. The fact that it was Duo's own judgment that had landed him in the hands of a torturer made Quatre cringe and writhe inside. He knew that he wouldn't be able to live without Duo now...any of his friends, of course, but there was something that connected him to Duo, and if Duo disappeared? That was part of the writhing.

He knew that Duo could escape, he'd done it this time, and myriad times during the wars. Hell, he'd even escaped from confinement on the base before they'd left to their own lives. That wasn't the issue. The issue was the nightmare that would wake Quatre up in the middle of the night. The nightmare that was Duo on the vid, trying not to cry out in pain but not able to help it—even with that, Duo choking out that he forbid Quatre to get Sandrock even then...the knowledge that his intent to get the machine had disappointed Duo.

It was an emotional snarl like he'd never seen before, and he was chagrined because he couldn't stop reading his lover. Sure, it was great during sex, or being alone together...but the open channel let in more than just Duo. Trowa was all power and conceit on the outside, but he was playing on the inside. Trowa was searching for a new thrill, and invested in very little. Heero was doing something similar without being psycho about it...Matty was annoyed and upset with Blake...and Blake? Dear lord the guy was sparks and lightning. His focus was on everything, he was excited and happy and...disbelieving...and then he'd get some idea in his head that involved Trowa. Those ideas were undeniable. The only way Quatre could put a cap on it was to glare at the guy, because that'd make him simmer down.

That wasn't fair to Blake, and it wouldn't have worked if Blake hadn't ordered him to sit back down when Duo was still gone.

...why was he cold?

Well, it wasn't a physical sensation. Actually, he was sweaty and sticky on the outside, especially in the areas where he was pressed against Duo and Trowa.

He glanced sidelong at Duo.

"Hm?" Duo met his eyes with interest. That instant attention wasn't even a put-on thing. It hadn't been since he'd returned. He'd been focused on Quatre the entire damn time, and Quatre knew it...

He smiled at the guy.

"What are you going to do about your hair?" Duo muttered, considering the more than obvious roots. "It's growing out too fast, if you ask me...but you going back to blond or you wanna try something different?"

"I was thinking about red," Quatre admitted, looking down.

"Red?" Trowa's interest sparked onto him. "We could call you fire-crotch."

"Trowa," Duo said in a level and happy tone, "he won't dye is pubes."

Quatre started laughing weakly.

"That's beside the point and you know it," Trowa retorted happily.

"But see, the term fire-crotch refers to the hairs around the genitals being red...like fire...around the crotch."

Trowa started laughing himself and considered Quatre as best he could. "I'd still totally do it."

"Dye your pubes? I knew you were weird," Quatre grinned across the way at Wufei.

Wufei started laughing...almost his raven laugh.

"What?" Trowa asked dryly.

"You want Matty to do the dye job?" Wufei asked, then started laughing harder.

"You want me to kill you, don't you?" Heero muttered, giving the man a level look.

"It'd be a stand-up job?" Wufei asked, then started laughing even harder. "You want cream with that?"

Heero himself started laughing, rolling his eyes and looking back out the window.

"Matty might," Quatre noted, then flinched internally.

Wufei's laughter was far too...him...to ignore. His basic core personality was reasserting itself as time went on...and that meant potential shit all around.

"I'd think that'd be messy...with the dye and all," Trowa muttered.

Duo started laughing himself—he'd been trying not to...and that made Heero focus on him pointedly.

"Oh, oh man..." Wufei's laughter stopped almost too fast, and he sat back to look them all over seriously. "One time when I'd gone to the bar over on Lunner Avenue...it's got some hotties sometimes. They do this ladies night thing...like every Friday night."

Quatre narrowed his eyes at the man, then gave it up. Once Wufei got it into his head to tell them one of his stories, he did it. It didn't matter how bawdy, tasteless, or unbelievable it was...and Quatre had never quite appreciated that he'd never felt a lie from his friend. With all the stories Wufei told...he, at least, believed every one of them.

...Quatre's friends were special.

- -

Wufei had to admit that the exasperated disbelief of his friends was the best part of telling any of his stories. Relating something that none of them had ever seen was one thing, but reaching that point where they would never believe he was telling the truth...that was probably the funnest part.

He stepped from the humvee, stretching...and had a moment's deep disbelief when Quatre slammed into his back. He knew for a fact that he could stand up to the partial-blond, and that with his shock, he could have caught his balance before falling...but something about Quatre's expression...and the sound he'd made.

Wufei fell willingly as a shot pinged off the side of their humvee, his eyes instantly following the line he was pretty sure it'd gone. He climbed off his friend, not entirely sure how he'd ended up on top when Quatre'd tackled him around the waist from behind...and realized he had his weapon in hand.

Those instincts were fun.

He started forward as people shouted, grateful beyond belief that Quatre was who he was...and started to run for his would-be killer.

If someone was going to take shots at him, he wanted his own turn.

- -

"Shots fired! Shots fired!"

Jaden focused in disbelief on the radio as the man gave the sketchy details. Someone had shot at Chang.

Who in their right mind would choose Chang as their first target? Why Chang?

Jaden shook his head, looking around to his men. Most of them had already exchanged skeptical looks.

"Right," Jaden muttered, stretching his neck. "You've got your new assignments. Let's get on with this."

"Right," most of them agreed. They didn't salute him, or call him sir when he gave orders, they said 'right' and ran off. It sounded like sir with a salute, but...

Jaden watched them disappear to their various areas, then gave Emily a look.

"What?" she asked blankly. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"A brigadier general of the Earth Sphere Alliance," he said calmly, "warrants a message—or even a tap on the shoulder."

She blinked at him.

"Brigadier Barton was...actually pretty pissed at me when he finally got ahold of me."

She blinked again.

"So the next time he calls me, let me know."

"You're not his toadie anymore," she started to protest.

"No, but we're sort of relying on his ass to get us through right now. You realize that we've only gotten the permissions to be here now...to earn this money or this food now...because he said the right things to the council people?"

She blinked at him, then started to shake her head.

"We're dancing a fine dance now," Jaden grumbled, looking around. "We can't do anything until we get money—we could buy a ship or two...with money...to grow something on...to sell...for money...and not have to cowtow to..."

"We left the Alliance because..."

"Because they're so entrenched in politics that you have to find a pair of scissors to say hi to the cute chick down the bar," Jaden cut her off. "Until we become an independent nation, we're under their thumb. If Marshal had anything right, it was that we have to play by their rules. He just didn't play by their rules."

She frowned at him, looking down.

"Right now, we rank lower than a lieutenant as far as the ESA is concerned," he noted quietly. "Right now we're babes in arms to them. We can't go around offending the people who are trying to help us. Shit, Em, you could have at least taken a message."

"I'm sorry, Mr. President..."

"Oh, call me Jaden," he muttered irritably at her, pushing away from the vehicle. "You have your assignment don't you? I'm going to take five and listen to this chaos," he indicated the radio in the car. "Go on."

She nodded at him, not meeting his eyes, then turned and started away quickly.

Jaden sighed, shifting back into his seat and pulling out the phone. He waited for her to be away, then hit the button to dial Qing.

"Hey!" Qingfu greeted him happily. "You get shot at yet?"

"Not me, in the last hour," Jaden returned, smiling slightly. "Chang did, though."

"What?" Qingfu asked blankly. "He with you?"

"No," Jaden grinned slightly, looking around. "No, he's not here. I just have the radio on and people were freaking out about shots fired. Rab has Wing and is in Lateour. Barton called me a while ago and noted that they were moving in so we needed to get out. We got about a metric shit-ton of civilians setting up in some football arena. How are things with you? Illicit?"

"I'm pretty good...Maxwell sent me a laptop. I tried to call him, but he ignored me—I got a text from him later apologizing for that...it's not new or anything, but he also sent a link—the router kind. We have internet on the ship. Some of the kids were super excited after we got it working, because their phones started to connect again. It only really works in the lounge area, so there are kids all over it."

"Well, at least we can keep track a bit better," Jaden muttered, rubbing at his face. The radio was a chaos of order and record that suggested there was an actual assault going on.

...but then again, Rab had Wing and the military was trying to take it back.

"Yeah," Qingfu was thoughtful a moment. "Other than that, a group of people decided that holey uniforms were an affront to common decency. They found out who has what sewing crap and set up a repair shop for clothes. There are some people running around doing cleaning, too. Those supplies Maxwell sent started all sorts of things moving. Did I tell you?" Qingfu snickered. "He sent a box of sweats—just lounge pants and sweat pants...well, that and t-shirts."

"You're kidding me," Jaden groaned to himself. "The man is insane..."

"Well, the note he gave me with the laptop explained that the shirts were seconds from a factory by their base. I guess they got them at a bargain cost for buying in bulk. The sweats were pretty much the same. Some of them are weird—I got us some. I figured after a hot shower it'd be good to have something like that—I even made sure the legs were the same length."

Jaden laughed at that, appreciating it. Maxwell was a strange man...sweats and t-shirts? Really?

"I mean...he had socks in there, too...and general underwear. He said something about wanting something clean next time he gets himself tortured. There were like...six or seven boxes of this shit. At first I thought it was weird that we got anything, but the ship came up and hailed us to open our hatch up, and a bunch of soldiers just loaded the boxes across, asked if we had any wounded who needed the shore...then they left. They didn't say anything about us floating out here or anything—though one of the guys did say something that worried me. What's a barnacle? He said there might be some on the part of the ship under water. How do you even check for that?"

"Barnacle?" Jaden echoed blankly. "Aren't those things on the foot?"

"No, those are bunions," Qingfu made a noise. "Well, I do have internet now. I guess I'll look it up and see...go for money, huh? Supplies are awesome and all, but I highly doubt we have anyone who'd know how to take care of the hull of this ship."

"Yeah, really," Jaden sighed. "Did I ever tell you I was jealous of Maxwell?"

"Jealous?" Qingfu sounded amused and skeptical. "I suppose his hands are bigger'n yours at that, huh?" he started laughing.

"You're stupid, it's not even...even that," Jade rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "You just always talk about him and stuff."

Qingfu went quiet a moment. "Den...he's just that fun. He sent me a laptop...he sent us a link...for the ship. I don't care what his friends proclaim about us, he actually cares."

"I know...but..." Jaden sighed. "All I really got is you and Armend, and he's been upset with me since I pointed out that Maxwell is more than just a spoiled soldier. I wish you could be out here with me."

"We agreed that one of us needed to be on the ship, and one on the ground," Qingfu noted quietly. "You've got Armend being your right hand out there, and I'm doing everything I can out here. You really that lonely?" his tone turned sly. "That Thane girl...I bet she'd spare you a few minutes of her time."

"She got all butt-hurt because Barton called me six times today."

"Why that many?" Qing was startled.

"He only got ahold of me once," Jaden noted dryly.

Qingfu made a pained noise.

"Yeah...he sent me to Lateour to pull our guys out, right? Well...he had Matt call me."

"You shittin' me?" Qingfu was surprised.

"No, I'm serious. I let Em take my phone most of the time when I'm out on rounds and what have you—and she didn't even try to take him a message."

"Is she trying to piss them off?"

"That's what I was trying to figure out," Jaden agreed dryly. "I didn't know that, right? And I was asking Barton what we got out of me taking the civilians here, and he noted their booker would get ahold of me later...which, what the fuck, man...and yeah. I couldn't believe that she didn't tell me he called or anything."

"That's...shit," Qingfu made a noise. "Maybe you should keep it with you."

"I should," he agreed. "But it's hard. If we're sneaking in and get a call?"

"Yeah, huh?" he made another sound. "You tell her not to do that?"

"Yeah, she's off pouting and stuff...it's getting hot in Lateour, too. I guess I should let you go. We might actually have to form a defensive line if shit goes south there. Look up whatever barnacles are...and how you deal with it...or anything else that might mess up the hull. I hadn't even thought about that."

"Yeah, really...be careful, huh? Maybe you can come home tonight."

Jaden sniggered at the suggestion—it'd be nice to get back to his room and bed...but he wasn't putting any bets on it.

Until Winner got his covey of space-hearts, the ESA was low on man-power...and really, Illicit needed all the money and supplies it could get.

- -

"Sloppy."

Blake glowered at Jinli.

"You're being sloppy," Jinli persisted irritably to him. "Do what I do...sharp. gestures." He punctuated the last two words by a calculated movement of his arm.

"Did you get it?" Blake demanded of Matty, who was laying on his bed and watching the pair tiredly.

"Fian's showed me how to do stuff before," Matty shrugged. "He was showing me some of those katas he and Heero do. I was just doing it like that."

"Oh..." Blake looked a little crestfallen.

"Why do you call him Fian?" Jinli muttered, stretching his arms as he considered the youth. "I'm pretty sure you've done it since before I came back into the picture, but you never explained it."

"When we first met, they weren't telling me their real names yet. Fian...Fei, goes by Ian. I forget if it was Duo or Quatre...or Trowa...but one of them was telling me something and almost called him Fei—they realized it and switched to Ian. F...Ian."

Blake snorted.

"You're kidding me," Jinli muttered dryly. "And you call him that all the time."

"He's Fian," Matty grinned at the guy. "Duo was running around calling me Bobby before."

"Bobby?" Blake asked blankly.

"It was severely loose logic, and even Heero thought he'd just forgotten my name."

Blake snickered.

"What's your thing with Fei, anyway?" Jinli had sat on the floor and was stretching out his legs.

"My thing with Fei?" Matty blinked at him. "You wanna run that by me in Chinese? Japanese?"

Jinli gave him a look.

Blake snickered, then focused on his arm, trying to make the gestures Jinli had shown him 'sharp.'

"Not too much," Jinli cautioned quickly. "You want it sharp...and...languid."

"I'm not a martial artist at all," Matty noted thoughtfully, "so correct me if I'm wrong...but wasn't that just a contradiction of terms?"

Jinli snickered and flipped him off.

"Show me how," Blake urged Matty. "Show me how Wufei showed you."

Matty sighed and pushed himself off the bed—he was already wrung-out from the lesson with Wufei earlier in the day...but...

- -

Heero growled low in his throat as the soldiers disappeared into a space ship. The machine was one of the auctioned off ones.

If it wasn't one thing, it was another. In this case, there were a large group of enemy soldiers off on the left flank trying to harry them into opening a path to the ship. A goodly portion of soldiers had already made it inside—and the only point of blessing was that the machine was in port between flights. There weren't many civilians on it...but that was also a hardship. Without civilians to oust, the enemies in the machine could take it over and fly it away. The fact that it was an ex-military ship meant it had cargo holds large enough to hold Wing...and then some.

That meant he needed to find that damn machine.

Heero looked around, regretting again that he hadn't done it when he walked away from it. That had been sheer stupidity on his part—despite the fact that he had destroyed it the one time and the idiot Zechs had rebuilt it.

He pushed away from their line as people looked to him curiously.

"What're you doing, 'ro?" Trowa demanded, snapping an arm into his path so he was half caught at the waist.

"What do you think?" Heero retorted.

Trowa's fingers dug into his side as he stared up at the other man. "Don't get caught," he ordered...then dropped his arm...and his magazine.

Heero nodded and darted off down the line, keeping low.

Quatre met him before he could go far, though, standing fully in his path with blazing eyes. "You're doing it?" he demanded, then reached up and caught him by the collar of his shirt and yanked him down so they were face to face. "You hit that fucking button and you get your ass out, Heero. No playing around."

"I know," Heero started.

"No," Quatre hissed. "Look at me, meet my eyes...you. get. out."

Oh, right. He'd been willing to go with his machine in the wars.

For some reason, the partial-blond assuming he'd do it again struck him as funny, and Heero smirked a bit. "Aishiteru," he noted, kissing the other's cheek, "modotte." He darted past him through the soldiers. He had a feeling Quatre was going to want to discuss that little conversation later, but that was okay.

After Wing was gone...it'd be fine.

He came up short as Wufei caught the front of his shirt and the strap of his weapon, spinning him around with his own shining eyes.

"You lot make it awful hard to get shit done," Heero growled, leaning in so they were face to face.

"Your boy needs his man," Wufei noted, backing up very slightly. "You do this and you get back here before that fucker blows."

"Goi, joushi," he whispered back.

"My birthday," Wufei reminded him in a fierce growl.

Heero rested his hands briefly on Wufei's before yanking the man's hand off and starting to move away a bit slower.

Wufei let him go, which surprised him. With the notes that Trowa and Quatre had given him, he'd figured he'd get more of the same...but then again, Matty would be devastated if he died. That went beyond Heero's own conceit. He knew that Matty really loved him, and after everything they'd been through together so far, he was very integral to the other's life. That was a much more solid link to life than just being ordered to it.

He glanced back, seeing that Wufei was still watching him, then grinned and started to pick up his pace again.

Matty wasn't the only one who'd be devastated if he died...that meant he had something to live for. Shit, he hadn't gotten Fei a present yet...he'd have to figure that out. It was Fei's own fault for waiting so long to remind him—maybe his present would be late.

Heero shook his head, darting toward the trees beyond the fighting. He was just going to tempt fate a little bit—it wouldn't even be as traumatic as Duo's stunt.

...but what the hell was he going to get Fei?

- -

Duo snarled as he jumped off the flat Deathscythe was strapped to. He'd barely caught a glance of Heero disappearing into the trees.

What was he...

Oh.

Oh...shit.

Duo stopped, looking around wildly. It'd been decided that the fighting they were doing didn't need any form of MS. Trowa'd accepted that without pause and gone into the fighting, but Duo'd run both machines through a last minute overhaul. Heavyarms was stuffed with all the ammo Trowa'd certainly use up if he got into the machine, and Deathscythe's beams were in working order. He really wanted to pull out the hand-scythe and go into the fray, but the mutilation a hand-held beam-saber could cause had been a point that'd almost had a noose around his neck when the wars were done.

So, Heero was going after Wing on foot.

Duo turned and darted back to the straps holding the machine down.

"Sir?" a young woman asked, moving up to him immediately—she was part of the team that was there to help the gundams rise without ruining the straps or trucks.

"Yuy's after Wing," he told her shortly, starting to unlatch the thing. "That means a very big explosion."

Her eyes went huge, and she gestured to her team, running to start unhooking the gundams.

This...was going to be bad. Duo really had a feeling it was going to be bad. There were too many people on hand...was the ship even far enough away? How big had the explosion been before? What modifying factors were present here? How many were present in the machine itself?

"Quatre?" he muttered, raising his phone to his mouth.

"Where is he?" Quatre returned instantly.

"I saw him hit the trees," Duo explained, watching the covering-tarp get yanked away from his gundam.

"We have a few minutes, then," Quatre reassured him. "Get in your machine."

"That's what I'm doing," Duo retorted, starting to climb the thing.

"Barton!" Quatre shouted over his own.

Duo didn't hear Trowa's response, because he had hit the release for the cockpit.

This...was going to be...something.