Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ In the City at Night ❯ Political Mischief ( Chapter 18 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Political Mischief

"What's wrong?" Jordan asked Quatre as he moved into the front door of his house again. Quatre was sitting alone on a chair with his legs hugged against his chest. His eyes hadn't lost their distance, and Jordan's approach had made him flinch.

"I'm...tired," Quatre muttered, looking down. "Go away."

Jordan took a deep breath and cleared up his lingering irritation with Zechs. He moved around the couch and sat near his friend, studying him.

Quatre smiled slightly, "That's nice...quiet."

"You look like death warmed over," Jordan noted.

"You almost died," Quatre agreed, the distance entering his voice again. "That hurts."

"We weren't that close to death," Jordan reminded him. "We were five or more feet away from the house. You know it'd take more than that to take us down."

"Logan's upset with you."

"For falling on him?" Jordan was amused by the thought.

"For taking it for him," Quatre explained, still not looking to his host's eyes. "For protecting him and getting yourself badly hurt...it upset Wayne, too. It upsets Wayne that Logan's upset you protected him."

"And you feel it?"

"Logan clung to me while we waited for you two to regain consciousness."

"He was scared, and the others were scared...and Chai was terrified?"

"Yep."

"So you've been exposed to raw emotions for about twenty hours?"

"Give or take the hour when I knocked myself out with prescription sleep shit."

"That's harsh."

"I don't want this, Duo," Quatre muttered, finally focusing on his friend with wounded eyes. "I don't want to feel it all like this..."

Jordan couldn't bring himself to correct the name, and looked to the carpet instead. "I can't take it from you...or I would."

Quatre slid off the chair he was on and moved to lean against Jordan's side on the couch. He didn't say anything as he stared across the room at the entertainment center. It was almost a painful connection when Jordan realized that Quatre'd used to sit against him like that all those years before. When things were getting complicated, he'd do it. Jordan had always assumed it was because he could control his emotions...what had the blond done without him to hide behind?

Jordan clenched his jaw, feeling guilty as he looked around. His bedroom light was on, and he had to assume that Trowa was there with Chai. "You chased them off, didn't you?"

"Chai's emotions were screaming at me," he agreed. "Trowa made it okay for a while, but Chai is upset."

"What can I do?" Jordan asked, shifting back and studying the blonde's face.

Quatre shifted to lay with him, seeming almost child-like as his eyes closed and opened several times. "Just..." his eyes looked like they didn't want to stay open. "I can focus on you," he noted. "Always...focus..." his eyes flinched closed and he moved sharply to rub them, forcing them open.

"Go to sleep," Jordan ordered, running his fingertips over his friend's eyelids. "You need to sleep."

"I..."

"If you can't finish a sentence," Jor stated, "you can't very well argue. Do as you're told. I'm sure your sleep-aid is gonna drag you down to the depths anyway."

Quatre laughed slightly, his eyes pressing closed again as he relaxed more against the couch. He forced his eyes open again, though, focusing on Jordan with a sort of alertness that meant he wanted something understood. "I don't want to be alone."

Jordan patted his leg reassuringly, "You're in my house, Quatre. You'll never be alone in my house."

The words and the fact that he meant them anchored somewhere in Quatre's psyche as the blond sank into the sleep he hadn't been able to surrender to for hours. He felt Jordan move very slightly, but it was an accommodation of the position...and then the darkness took him.

X x X x X

Wufei exhaled slowly as he and Morgan sat in the shade of bushes in the park area of the compound, watching the distant men pacing the line outside the base fencing.

"Nothing's going to happen until we're lulled into a false sense of security," Morgan noted as he inhaled. "We'll have a few days of this crap, then we'll calm down the base-line. In a week...I bet you in a week Marquise or Baits will get it in the head."

"No," Wufei argued quietly. "It'll be one of the other leaders."

"Which one, though?" Morgan grinned. "How many are there?"

"Ten," Wufei replied shortly, meeting the man's eyes. "You sound amused now, but if this conversation comes up again you might become suspect." He had no intentions of mentioning that three of them were dead.

"I don't have the patience to hire an assassin," Morgan argued. "Or the connections to Angels."

Wufei grinned at him and exhaled again.

Morgan sighed, snuffing out his cigarette. "How's Quatre?"

"He's still at Jordan's," Wufei shook his head, thinking the last two nights over. "You gathered that Chai has the quieting ability, right?" He waited for Morgan to nod, "Well, she was so upset that Jordan was knocked unconscious she hasn't been able to do it for him. I think Jordan has the ability, though."

"There's a bizarre thought."

"Quatre is tailing Jordan around and the only thing Jor does about it is grin," he shook his head again. "I wish they'd take the time to do some serious studies on the empaths. It's not fair to them that the only break they get is an hour or two a week in a room full of people. There has to be something that can be done..."

"We should set up a study," Morgan suggested tentatively, focused on the table.

"Why do you care?" Wufei snapped at him irritably. "You two bicker like old men whenever you're in hearing range of each other."

Morgan lit another cigarette, sitting back in his seat and looking to the perimeter "It's not fair to them. I won't argue with you, I don't get along with Winner. Fuck, Winner's a grade A asshole. He's a fuckin' honor-role class-president valedictorian fuckin' asshole...but he's your friend. I can care that much."

Wufei grinned at him, appreciating the humor in the statement, then shook his head. He snuffed out his own cigarette and sat back himself, considering his companion's expression. "I need you to help me do something," he muttered.

"Okay, this hints at legality issues," Morgan raised an eyebrow. Wufei's demeanor and the fact that they were meeting in such a remote spot was really what had hinted at it. Morgan'd been waiting to point it out since he'd shown up to see the guy's distant expression. That was the only time Wufei got that look...when he was considering something illegal...or that he should in some way not do.

"Nah, just going against Yuy's wishes," Wufei shrugged.

Morgan laughed, leaning forward, "I'm all over it."

Wufei started laughing, throwing his cigarette butt at the man.

"Dude, I'll beg you to let me piss off Yuy! Come on!"

Wufei drummed his fingertips on the tabletop, then looked toward the building. "Shifton has an interest in males."

"So you want his attention?" Morgan raised an eyebrow.

Wufei gave him a pointed look. "No. Shifton knows Jon because they had a relationship."

Morgan shifted back in his seat, looking startled.

"Heero doesn't want Jor to talk to Terry because of that. Jon has a sorta schoolboy crush on Jordan...I haven't talked to either of them about it for details. Anyway, if Jordan talks to Shifton about the charges on Jon they'll probably clash hard. Jordan's not above exploiting the weaknesses implied in the uncertain end of the relationship, and Heero doesn't want to ruffle that many feathers. Shifton hasn't stopped cooperating yet and that might be the straw that breaks the camel's back."

"So, what? What do you need me to do?"

"Help me distract Heero so I can get Jordan in to see Shifton."

"And this is hard, how? Can't you just..."

"Heero has his swat-flies buzzing around the base. I heard him telling the lot of them to let him know if they see Maxwell approaching Shifton."

Morgan considered it a moment, then grinned. "You needed some small repairs done on your vid at your apartment, right?" he offered.

"That'd work, except that Heero has a cell phone."

"Let me finish my idea," Morgan reassured him, snuffing out his second cigarette and starting to toy with the lighter. "Take the vid in for repairs. It'll take'em all day so your house-line will be out...start the joke that Heero does everything with his phone. The others will pick up on the fun and you can jack his cell. You know Trowa will get a kick out of it, and if you put Chai on Quatre he'll be obnoxious, huh? While they're busy playing keep-away, get Jordan into the interrogation room with Shifton."

X x X x X

"Dictate," Heero muttered into his phone tiredly. "O six-hundred hours. Winner woke up approximately two hours sooner than medication is supposed to wear off. I suggest he has sleep time in the M building with a quieting." He ended the message and sent it to Une's email.

"What did you just do?" Quatre muttered as he moved tiredly from his room, studying his friend. He'd heard Heero's verbal order to the phone, and he could feel that it had something to do with him.

"I'm getting your ass into the M building," Heero retorted, turning toward the sink.

"Hey," Quatre protested, perking up and chasing after him. "I don't need that...I have Chai. There are plenty of people who need it more than me..."

"You can take that guy, Gena, and Varia," Heero informed him, thinking of the shy lanky man Quatre'd hang out with and the two girls. "Either that or you can just sleep. You'll sleep anyway. You're getting a genuine room, I don't care."

"You can't make me," Quatre informed him. "I'll be fine...there are other people who need it more than me."

A flash of amusement struck Quatre before Heero's resolve returned.

"No!" Quatre shouted at him, which caused Wufei and Trowa to look out at them. "You can't make me!" he repeated his earlier claim, yanking Heero's phone from him. "You don't have to take care of me, Heero! I'm a grown man!"

Heero grabbed for his phone, but Wufei darted across the room and took the phone from Quatre, starting to laugh impishly. He knew the opening could be closed if Quatre continued his arguments, but if he just let it go...

"Hey!" Heero protested.

"Fei?" Trowa asked.

"He does everything with his phone," Wufei supplied, forcing the laugh again. "Now he's even pissing us off with it!"

Heero laughed a bit abashedly.

"I want to see how long he can survive without it."

Trowa's eyes flashed with amusement.

"No!" Heero insisted, stepping around Quatre as Wufei darted to Trowa and passed the phone off.

Trowa took the bait easily, tossing it through the air until Quatre caught it. The blond looked at the phone uncertainly as Heero turned to approach him with obvious hope...and the feigned bit of the information made him clutch his hand tightly around the bit of machinery.

"You guys!" Heero protested. "I get my orders with that!"

"And what are today's orders?" Wufei teased. "Isn't today the day you retrain your team?"

Heero blinked at him.

"So your lackeys meet up with you in the training field and you run through some drills, huh?" Wufei was waiting to get struck by lightning. The opportunity was too prime... "Pretend to take a building or something? You know no one would call you anyway...just see how long you can live without it."

"So...let me have it back," Heero extended his hand to Quatre.

Quatre tossed it back to Wufei, grinning a bit impishly himself as he backed from Heero's personal space. "You can't expect me to cooperate with you when you're trying to mother me."

Heero gave him a long level look, "I mother everyone."

That got him a slightly mocking smile as Quatre crossed his arms.

"You want the phone," Wufei noted, tucking it into his pocket, "Then you have to get it from me..." and he darted into his room, slamming the door shut and locking it.

He had a feeling he was going to get his ass kicked.

X x X x X

"You have his phone?" Jordan demanded of Wufei in disbelief as they walked toward the interrogation building. "And you're not somehow dead?"

Wufei grinned impishly at him. "It was Morgan's idea. Heero's swat team doubles as a secret police force. They're insanely loyal to him...well, mine are to me, too. Anyway, that's not the point. He told them that if they saw you heading to Shifton to call him for various spouted reasons that they swallowed whole. Quatre got pissed at him this morning and took the phone. I figured I needed to seize the opportunity while it was fresh. I also dropped our vid off at the repair shop because we managed to crack the screen when we got the call you were both unconscious...so..."

"We? Or you?" Jor asked.

"Tro, actually," Wufei smiled sweetly, "I broke a chair."

"Ah," Jordan smiled a bit as the door opened. "So his swat guys can run for him, can't they?"

"Today's his retraining day," Wufei shrugged. "They're all with him. We have about two hours of certainty that he won't know, but after that I can't guarantee anything."

Jordan smiled roguishly at him, "All I needed was to get in."

"I'm gone," Wufei noted, looking around as he thought of the quickest path to his next destination.

"Later," Jor agreed, then hesitated before entering the building and flashing the guy a grin, "I owe you a pack of something worth smoking."

Wufei rolled his eyes.

X x X x X

"I swear she's some sort of hypnotized flunky," Deb continued with her story as Trowa ate his lunch quietly and listened. "She was telling me to type faster or something when I was on the phone. I was on the phone, talking to someone who needed my help and she was trying to make me work faster."

"Some people are all about efficiency," Tro offered, taking a drink. "What'd you tell her?"

"I didn't say anything," Deb shrugged. "I just ignored her."

"Probably the best idea," he noted, blinking at an unfamiliar buzzing. It took him a moment to realize he had Heero's phone in his pocket, and he held up a finger for the woman to wait while he grinned and opened the thing. "Hello?"

"Chance?" an unfamiliar male asked uncertainly.

"Uh...no. He's...well, he's not around."

"Who is this?" the person demanded.

"Your worst nightmare?" Tro offered with a smirk as Deb gave him a confused look. "Your favorite dream? Your erotic fantasy?"

The guy laughed slightly uneasily, "I'm serious, dude. I don't need song lyrics."

"I'm Chance's boy-toy," Trowa noted, smirking even wider. "Who are you?"

Deb spread her hands, silently demanding an explanation.

"Confused," the guy returned, then considered the conversation a moment. "When do you think he'll collect his phone?"

"Probably tomorrow sometime," Trowa shrugged as Deb narrowed her eyes at him. A complication struck the male and he winked at his girlfriend as she started giggling. "Don't call here anymore. He's mine!"

The call ended and Trowa smirked at his girlfriend as she laughed disbelievingly.

Heero was certainly going to get some confused looks next time he ventured into the city.

X x X x X

"So...what?" Jordan muttered, turning a chair around to sit with his arms crossed on the backrest bit of it and his legs to either side as he stared across the table at Shifton. "You get sick of Breer or something? Stopped puttin' out, so you decided to get back at him while making a political move?"

Terry's eyes turned flinty. "It wasn't like that."

"Ah," Jordan considered him as he took a drink from his bottly of water. "Was it the two of you together?"

The guy's eyes narrowed as he thought, then looked away. Finally, he met Jordan's eyes again, "How did you know we were together?"

Jordan grinned at him humorlessly.

"No," Terry replied. "That was confidential information."

"I'm a confidential sort of guy," Jordan reassured him.

"You're that guy...that one from," Terry's eyes went slightly distant as he thought. "You were with Yuy that day in the bar."

"Was I?" Jordan tilted his head.

"You had a braid, though," Terry considered the soldier's hair a moment, then focused on the table as the idea of the braid slammed into him again. There'd been something naggingly familiar about the man that time...and then he remembered. He jumped to his feet, pointing at Jordan, "You!"

"Me?" Jordan asked, smiling sweetly.

"You were...! The bodyguard!"

"Huh?" Jordan grinned more.

"You were that fucker...the one he kept talking about!" Terry's mouth worked silently as he thought over the encounters with Jonathon, then focused on Jordan with a flinty glare.

Jordan laughed his humorless laugh, "You're slow, aren't you?"

"Why are you here?" Terry demanded, moving around the table to lean into Jordan's face, "What the hell kind of person are you?"

"Look at me a minute, Shifton," Jordan muttered quietly, rising to his feet and spreading his arms. "Look at me and think real hard about the news reels."

Terry frowned, thinking that over as well.

"I used to be called Duo," Jordan added. "I don't claim that fame anymore, but I was once Duo."

"Maxwell," Terry muttered, comprehension dawning in his mind as he straightened to stare at the man in disbelief.

Jordan gave him a genuine, even charming, smile. "I want to know why you framed Jon," he said quietly. "I want to know why you put all this on his head."

"I didn't put anything on his head," Terry hissed back, dropping back into his chair hard as he looked away. "He stopped calling me, but I'm not so petty as to get him in deep-ass legal shit because he lost interest in me."

The words confirmed something that Jordan hadn't been sure of before. Jon had fronted the money for Terry, that much was certain...but Jor had been hissing in his ear about how bad an idea it was to do it...and then Terry had sort of fallen off the radar.

"What?" Terry demanded, swallowing as he met Jor's eyes for a fraction of a second. He had his arms crossed, and the tone of his voice suggested he was upset.

"If you didn't do it," Jordan returned, moving around the table to stand against it with his own arms crossed as he looked down at the man. "Then who did?"

X x X x X

"Hello?" Wufei muttered as he walked along a cool breezeway with a drink in his hand. Trowa'd passed the thing off to him with a note that he'd spotted Heero coming in from the field with an expression of irritation on his face.

"Chance?" an unfamiliar male voice demanded sharply.

"Uh, he's not around," Wufei returned. "You'll want to call back in the morning."

"Who is this?" the guy demanded.

"I could ask you the same thing, but I don't care enough to do it," Wufei considered things. "He won't get his phone back for a few hours at least," he took another drink. "You may call back then."

"I tried that frickin' line for his vid and it kept ringing...is there any other way to get ahold of him?"

"I dropped the vid off for repairs this morning," Wufei noted. "Is it an emergency?"

"Not really, but I'd kinda like to know my friend's all right..." the man considered things. "You know him, I'd imagine. Is he okay? I heard that he was on the wrong end of an explosion."

"Considering that there's no good end to an explosion," Wufei noted in amusement, "I think he's fine. Actually, he just spent a night in the hospital and he's retraining now."

"Can I call one of his men, then? I think I have a number or two..."

"I'll pass him the phone next time I see him," Wufei lied reassuringly. "I'll make sure he knows you're calling."

"You're not who I talked to earlier," the man noted.

"I just got the phone about five minutes ago," Wufei agreed with a grin.

"Why? You're gonna see Chance again soon? You know he's Yuy, right?"

"You missed my comment about dropping the vid at the repair shop, didn't you? We're roommates."

"Well...can you tell his boyfriend for me that we're just friends?"

"Boyfriend?" Wufei repeated blankly, turning to look in the direction Trowa had disappeared and starting to smirk. "Which one?"

The man fell silent.

Wufei choked back a snicker, "Hey, I've gotta go."

"Um..."

"Have a wonderful day," Wufei added sweetly, then closed the phone and tucked it into his pocket with a snicker as he took another drink from his cup.

"Chang!" Wufei looked up at Heero's irritated shout. "Where's my fucking phone?" The guy was walking fast enough that the two lackeys behind him almost had to jog to keep up.

Wufei focused on the pair a moment, then shrugged. "I gave it to Trowa this morning."

"Where is he, then?" Heero demanded. There was an agitation in his manner as he waited impatiently.

"He just went to organize his retraining day," Wufei pointed at the building. "I saw him a few minutes ago."

Heero groaned in irritation, then moved past the guy as the two lackeys eyed him suspiciously.

Somehow...they annoyed the Chinese man.

Wufei lunged at one, which caused him to jump hard. He started laughing as Heero turned to look at them in confusion.

"Fuck you," the guy spat at him...and Heero backhanded him. His expression registered shock.

"That shit is not acceptable," Heero informed the guy, then rolled his eyes to Wufei. "See you tonight."

Wufei waved cheerily after the trio, then turned and started jogging for his car. He had a feeling he needed to be away quickly. Trowa wouldn't lie about the matter, which meant Wufei probably had about three minutes before he was in the line of fire again.

X x X x X

"You're his runner!" Terry half shouted in Jordan's face. "You're talking to me about morals and you run his drugs around Angels? You're a fuckin hypocrite."

"I was a broke hypocrite," Jordan agreed in a dark tone. "Jon pays well, and he paid me really well."

"A prostitute, even?" Terry's expression was becoming disgusted.

Jordan offered him the charming smile again, "He likes to make me happy, even if I don't reciprocate."

The man blinked.

"If you would have fessed up about the damn money," he added, "Then you wouldn't have been cast as a buyable politician. Do you understand that? No matter how many twists and turns you could put on it, you should have just said you borrowed the money from a friend of independent means and you were using it to buy a flat..."

"And then they'd have all asked me why he'd lend me that money."

"I'd lend the money for a flat to my friends if I had it," Jordan retorted. "You embarrassed that you were with him or something?"

"It's a personal matter," Terry looked away.

"Huh," Jordan returned, pacing the length of the room again. "I thought you found out he wanted to be with me."

Terry froze completely, meeting his eyes.

Jordan shook his head, "It's nothing, just a little crush. He's useful to have around," he added almost suggestively, raising his eyes to Terry's in amusement.

Terry exploded.

X x X x X

"Hello?" Quatre muttered as he moved across a grass-training field toward the M building to meet up with Paris. Wufei had passed him a half-empty fountain drink and Heero's phone wordlessly. He'd had a bit of worry and amusement in his manner. Quatre had pocketed the thing, slid on his shades, and started across the base while enjoying the drink. He'd purposefully taken the least popular route, and was able to enjoy the peace of no one.

"Who the fuck is this?" some guy shouted.

"A hallucination," Quatre explained. "You don't really see me." He grinned as the man reasoned that one out, "Or are you my hallucination?"

"That last dude said he was giving Chance the phone."

"Last dude?"

"Oh god, don't tell me...you're his boyfriend...Chance's, I mean."

Quatre laughed at that, "No...no I'm not. I just have his phone. Who is this?"

"None of your damn business. Give Chance his fuckin' phone or I'll kick your fuckin' ass."

"Wow, testy," Quatre noted as he took a drink. "Listen, buddy. I have two words for you and one of them is you."

"I'm getting damn tired of calling and not getting ahold of Chance. Give him his fucking phone back."

"Why don't you make me?" Quatre offered as Paris moved from the building and they stopped just outside the door. "Watch what you say or I'll sick his boyfriend on you."

"Who is that?" Paris whispered.

"Heero's phone," Quatre whispered back, indicating the thing and shrugging.

"Which one?" the guy demanded.

Paris bounced where he was standing and took the phone from Quatre, "Who the fuck is this?" he demanded.

"Who is this?" was the return.

"You trying to take my guy?" Paris demanded in an outraged tone as Quatre covered his mouth with his hand. "If I ever see you with him, I'll kick your ass!"

"I'm not trying to get with him!" the guy half-shouted. "We're friends!"

"You and who else?" Paris demanded. "Christ...he thinks I'm stupid, but I'm not that stupid!"

Quatre started laughing quietly.

"Give Chance back his phone!" the order was a half appeal.

"I'll see him tonight," Paris retorted darkly, then closed the phone and turned to beam at Quatre as the former pilot half doubled-over with laughter. "Was that what you had in mind?"

"Good enough!" Quatre laughed more.

"Ooh, I'm thirsty," Paris took the cup from Quatre's hand as he passed the phone back over. "What was that all about anyway? Why do you have Yuy's phone?"

Quatre beamed at him, then indicated the field, "Let's get going. I'll tell you on the way."

X x X x X

E/N: As amusing as the game of keep away is, it wasn't my brain-child. Niko came up with it and I had to pounce on it. Thanks, Niko!