Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ In the City at Night ❯ Plot Development ( Chapter 25 )

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

Plot Development

Life is green apples. Sour, tart, with something of a bad after-taste...but for that one moment, it's good...

Jordan yawned, and Heero grinned very slightly at his friend before going back to the sheet of paper in front of himself.

And it's those tastes we live for, right? Those instances where nothing can go wrong no matter how hard we try, because as soon as we swallow it's all done...

"What are you doing?" Jordan muttered tiredly, shifting over where he sat to study the large and slightly angled print of Heero's handwriting.

"Hey," Heero protested, pulling the sheet from view.

"Diary, huh?" Jordan smirked at him, sitting properly again.

"Thought processing," Heero retorted, giving his friend a dark look.

"You write like a chick," Jor noted.

...and it degenerated into a wrestling match as the sheet of paper slid un-remembered beneath the bench the pair had been sitting on.

"I almost want to know," Wufei noted as he moved toward them. "But something tells me I shouldn't ask."

Jordan laughed delightedly, shoving Heero off as he sat up again properly. "Morning, Fei."

"Morning, Duo," Wufei muttered, then blinked.

"Don't call me that," Jor responded instantly. "You sleep good?"

"Not really, but hell," Wufei shrugged, "Makes no difference in the end."

"You're in a chipper humor."

"Not all of us have someone to hold."

"So remedy that," Jor gave him a skeptical look.

It was Wednesday, July Fifth. The previous evening had been mostly spent at a large field with the entire base and whoever they could get cleared to enter the grounds for the fireworks. Naturally, Shin had shown up, and Jor always had Chai. Quatre had ended up with Gina and disappearing before the proper end of the festivities, and Tro had Deb.

Wufei spread his arms and looked around pointedly.

Heero rolled his eyes obviously, tossing the pen he'd been using back on the bench. It had been there when he had met up with Jor.

"You kinda have to talk to them," Jordan confided, leaning forward slightly. "I've found that 'hi' can be a fairly decent pick-up line."

Wufei had to grin at that, then sighed and dropped next to his friends on the bench. He watched Quatre moving toward them with a tray of coffee cups, then focused on the pair next to him. "I'm tired, guys."

"So go back to bed?" Heero offered.

"That's...not the tired you mean, is it?" Jor asked Wufei, though the look he gave Quatre indicated the question wasn't really directed at the Chinese man.

"It's this nifty thing called depression," Quatre informed him cheerily. "And they put you on this nifty drug called Prozac."

"Fuck that," Wufei shook his head as he took a cup. "Thanks...and I'd rather just go through you four."

"You touch my heart," Trowa muttered, moving up from the other side, reaching for a cup.

Quatre laughed as Heero gathered his own and took the tray itself to throw away.

"Thanks..."

"What's going on?" Trowa added, looking between them. "I didn't hear what was said."

"Wufei's depressed," Jordan explained. "It's time for a brain-storm. We all need some sort of a pick-me-up."

"I'm happy," Quatre protested. "I go home to a quieting...sorta," he flashed Jordan a grin.

Jordan grinned back at him, resting back in his seat and thinking. "Do you know why you're down, Fei?"

"Not really," Wufei returned, fiddling with the hand-protector of his cup. He hadn't meant to bring up the topic at all, though he'd gotten several looks from Quatre that had suggested the male'd jump on it as soon as he found an opening.

At least he had that...Quatre wouldn't call him out.

"I just...I dunno," he sat back himself, looking to the ceiling of the breezeway. "What are we doing here?"

"That's either stupid or deep," Heero noted with a grin. "I can't tell which."

Wufei gave him a look and shrugged, "Nothing, never mind."

They all looked to each other, then back to their cups.

"That's not fair," Quatre protested, giving them all looks. "When I say nothing you all ride me until I fess up."

"But you will fess up," Heero reminded him. "We know you'll fess up, that's why we push you...it's this vicious cycle. The more you admit the more we know it works and the more we push. Eventually you'll get to a spot that we'll give you a look and you'll spill...Wufei, on the other hand, will avoid us until we stop talking about it."

Wufei gave him a look.

"I'm not making a joke," Heero noted, looking around the group. "So we're back at the upper. When I'm feeling shitty I go get drunk, have a night where I cry in my beer, and get over it. It seems like a logical move to make. We can call in collectively absent tomorrow and piss Une off. That'll help, too. Nothing better than pissing her off, huh?"

"What about Jon?" Jordan noted somewhat morosely. "We've got him off the immediate hook, but I want to know who tried to set my friend up."

"Shifton didn't do it, right?" Wufei asked, studying the guy. "You're sure?"

"I was sure, but I'm not infallible. Just like there are people who can trick blondie..."

"Hey," Quatre protested.

"...there are people who can fool me. We still have a ring of men whose accounts we can't access unless we make them suspects, and that'll throw a spotlight on us. Who's up for some constructive hacking?"

"That'd work until a court hearing," Heero noted. "We have to do this the legal way or just fly under the radar...the entire way. We already had the fuck up when they panicked and closed the base down. There's something going on that we don't fully understand and the public knows something is up."

"On a very real note," Jor muttered, focusing on the guy, "fuck the public."

"Try getting that one to fly in court."

"I don't do court, Chance," Jor noted.

"But we have to now. The days of us going out and assassinating the bad guys slipped by with the wars. We got away with some rough crap from our so-called battle stress...but people expect us to be normal now. We can't just go..."

"I didn't say we needed to go kill people," Jordan snapped, then rose to his feet. "This is just stupid. What all did Tirone tell you?"

Heero recapped the man's story in a quiet voice, studying his coffee cup as the sun rose higher on the eastern horizon. The conversation was quiet as the five former fighters shifted around on the bench, taking turns sitting or standing as they drank their slowly cooling coffees. The silence when they'd run out of things to say was deafening as a car drove through the parking lot.

"I hate this," Jor muttered, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "I keep getting a tension headache, Fei feels like shit, and all we have to go on is that the assholes are fundamentally inclined, willing to kill, and that Crater was probably the one who leaked the information."

"You have people watching him, don't you?" Tro muttered. "Mouthy or the others?"

"Xane's around me too much," the soldier shrugged. "I asked Riley to see what she could get out of him. Danielle pissed him off."

"Pretty face like hers?" Tro protested, giving him a mock disbelieving look.

"Our main reason for believing he may have leaked," Jordan explained, "is because when she noted she could pay for her own drinks, he asked about her job. She doesn't get paid too much for this...the bare minimum, but she's from old money. He decided she was a whore at that point, and that he didn't want anything to do with her."

"Wonderful," Heero noted, rolling his eyes. "Not only are they stupid, but short-sighted and narrow-minded. I bet they'd stone anyone who said they were gay...he without sin, huh? They're perfect."

Wufei grinned at him, "That's a bit short sighted and narrow minded."

Heero snorted again, grinning slightly.

"I'm not saying you're wrong," Wufei reassured him a bit facetiously, "just that we must guard against anger...or something."

"Ancient teachings, oh learnéd one?" the blond teased.

"You're the jackass who didn't take his schooling overly seriously. If Nataku weren't killed, I wouldn't be here. I'd be off doing some ground breaking research in a white jacket."

The name gave them all pause, and they waited a moment in silence, not sure what could be said.

"Maybe that's my problem," Wufei muttered, looking over the parking lot to the mountains and the clouds promising rain on the horizon. "I should be home with kids bothering me to make them something to eat while I try to think of a good excuse to put it off until their mother wakes up." He sighed as he imagined it, pushing himself off his seat, "Or that thought process did me no good. Listen," he added, looking between them. "I'm gonna go lock myself up in my room for a while. I'd appreciate it if you left me alone."

"But being alone is worse," Quatre protested quietly, studying his face. "Fei..." he looked to the others a moment, then moved forward to grab the man's forearm. The Chinese male had shrugged and started to walk off. "I know I'm not very useful, but I know emotions...and I know that if you go burry yourself in your room you'll pull away more."

"Just for a few hours," Wufei protested, not trying to break away. "Just..."

"You realize this hurts him, don't you?" Jordan asked, narrowing his eyes at the male. "Paris pointed out to me a while back that the ones closest to him are attached more."

Wufei frowned, then focused on the blond. "Not very useful? What the fuck you talkin' about?"

Quatre shrugged slightly, looking away. "I don't do much..."

"You're only the spotter," Heero noted, thinking back to the incident that had occurred the first night they'd found Jordan...that among the hundreds of other times he'd given them cues.

"The coordinator," Jordan agreed, giving the guy a look.

"The one who got us to work together in the first place," Trowa agreed.

Quatre blinked at them.

"We're a team," Wufei noted, looking him over. "We wouldn't function without you...we could go without Duo..."

"Don't call me that."

"...but we'd die and fall away without you."

Quatre grinned a bit at that, then shook his head.

"Just for an hour, huh? Maybe two?" Wufei looked around at the lot of them. "I just want to be alone for a while."

"In two hours we'll come drag you out," Heero noted. He looked to his watch, "We'll eat lunch at the canteen, and you'd better show up either with or before us or we'll come kick your door in so you can't lock us out."

Quatre let the man go, looking away slightly.

"I'll be all right," Wufei reassured Quatre, patting his arm as he tried to meet the blonde's eyes. "Everyone needs time to themselves sometimes...okay?"

The blond nodded, meeting his eyes.

Wufei grinned slightly, then sighed and turned toward his car, looking to his watch. He knew Heero wasn't lying, and he had no intentions of losing his bedroom door.

"It's weird to think he was married," Jordan noted as the car backed up and drove off. "It's hard to imagine what it must've been like to lose a wife."

"They didn't get along," Heero reminded them. "It wasn't like our grief would be."

"Did he ever say what time of year she died?" Trowa asked, looking between them. "Seems like every summer he gets in a mood."

"I wonder if he even remembers...not all the colonies gave four seasons," Quatre shoved his hands in his pockets, thinking. The depression of Wufei wasn't a physical wound like Jor had made it sound. It was more like a general ache.

"You guys?" Heero asked, looking between them until the focused on him. "They all died...his entire family...everyone on that colony."

A sick sort of pit opened in Jordan's stomach as he remembered the image that was ingrained in his memory...the lone Gundam in space and...

Quatre was puking between the cars, and that brought a group reaction. The three of them moved to him at once, focusing on anything other than that horror. Jordan grabbed his left arm, and Trowa his right. It was more a reassuring gesture as Heero rubbed his back.

"Holy shit," the blond gasped as he stared at the mess. "It's been for fucking ever since I did that..."

"You were trained?" Heero asked Jordan as the thought processed.

"What?"

"If the higher ups know you're messing with an empath," Trowa explained, letting Quatre go. "They make you attend a week long training session of how to deal with them."

"Gee, that's flattering," Quatre commented wryly. "Now you deal with me."

"I always deal with you," Trowa retorted.

"Why would you need a training for that?" Jordan asked blankly, looking between the two.

"I couldn't figure that part out myself," Heero admitted. "Though it did help me pattern my reactions more."

"It showed me a new angle to think about it," Trowa admitted. "I mean...I was never so quick to react as you two, but I wasn't completely stupid."

"I don't like this conversation," the blond informed them.

The three focused on him, then looked to each other and shrugged.

"You realize that touching me opens something, don't you?" Quatre asked Jordan curiously. "Especially in instants like that," he indicated the mess as they moved away from it.

"Touch has been a reassurance since the monkeys climbed down from the trees," Jordan shrugged slightly. "It always worked before when you had your freak-outs."

"Like you're any better," Quatre retorted, a bit miffed by the comment.

"We're not talking about me, though," Jor smirked. "We're talking about you."

That got him a grin as Quatre turned toward his car. "I'm going to brush my teeth...anyone want anything from the house?"

"I'm good," Jor reassured him. "I'd tell you to kiss my girl for me, but then you probably would."

Quatre flashed him an impish grin, then slid into his car.

"Barton!" a redhead bounced out of the main office building with a huge smile on his face as Quatre drove off. "Why are you out here?"

"Doug!" Trowa's voice was delighted as he darted up to his friend. "I was starting to wonder when you'd drag your happy ass back in."

Jordan looked to Heero uncertainly, and he shrugged slightly. He made a gesture that somehow indicated to Jordan that it was Tro's second. How a vague hand motion meant that was beyond Jordan, but he decided not to dwell.

"I kept checking your office," Doug informed Trowa pointedly. "It's hard to find you there when you're outside."

Trowa laughed, indicating the remaining pair, then blinked. "Oh, shit! Jordan!"

Jordan moved forward, studying the guy curiously...and Doug's jaw dropped. He made a vague gesture toward the back of his own head, where a braid would have hung, then turned to look at Trowa in disbelief.

"Jordan Maxwell," Trowa muttered, "Meet Doug Filmore. Doug, meet Jordan Maxwell. Doug's my second."

"It's an honor to meet you, sir," Doug muttered, offering his hand. "I've heard good things about you."

"Not many," Trowa noted.

Jordan smirked at his friend and shook Doug's hand in return, "Nice to meet you, too, Sir."

"Don't call me that!" Doug looked vaguely flabbergasted.

"Return the favor and we'll have a deal...sir."

Doug grinned at him.

"How was your mom?" Trowa muttered, focusing on his second again. "She's not..."

"She was just bed ridden for a few weeks," Doug explained with a shrug. "Sorry I took so long. I meant to come in sooner, but she kept begging me to stay."

"I've been here a month and a half," Jor noted, raising an eyebrow. "How come we haven't met yet?"

"He left the day before you cut off your braid," Trowa explained. "He'd saved up some leave time, and then his mom hurt her back?" he looked to his friend, waiting for a nod. "And then I granted him...amnesty," Trowa smirked, "so he didn't have to rush back."

"Yeah, thanks," the guy muttered wryly. "She saw you telling me and that was that. She rode it to the limit."

Trowa laughed, "I live but to help my friends."

Doug grinned more, then blinked as his stomach rumbled audibly.

"That was my thought," Trowa noted, grabbing Doug's wrist and pulling him toward his car, "Let's go eat."

"He's going to be impossible until he's reassured himself that it's the same guy," Heero noted to Jordan, watching the car back out. "You realize that, right?"

"Kinda like us, huh?" Jor grinned. "I think half the god shit anymore is because we can now and couldn't for five years."

"I can't yank your braid anymore," Heero noted, studying the shorter length of his friend's hair. "You'd catch me if I tried for that mop..."

"Yeah, so I need a haircut," Jor gave him a look, starting for the building. "I seem to recall you mentioning something about an office at some point...we should go discuss that in detail...with Une."

"You want an office?" Heero demanded, following him toward the building. "I knew you were weird, but this is a bit..."

Jordan hit him.

X x X x X

Jordan had gone.

Heero moved slowly along the breezeway, noting one of the support beams and looking up. He could remember a time when that would have been considered a hop. He could remember a time when extreme physical exertion was second nature...when it was like breathing. Could he jump it now?

The problem with remembering Wufei's past was that his own came to mind...his lack of memory from childhood had bothered him once. He'd hear his crew or his friends describing memories, and thinking back the only thing he really remembered was gun stats. How far you change your angle when the wind was blowing compared to your target.

The people he'd killed hadn't been people

The killing of these peoples in and of itself wasn't much of an issue for him. He'd never let himself think about, or care about, the full meaning behind taking those lives. There was no point. What would he do? Go put his life in these families' hands? Shit, he'd never even learned their names to begin with.

But that was sad, wasn't it? He could remember killing people, but he didn't care about it. Seeing a human through the crosshairs...that was something he refused to do now. Those crosshairs had meant death to him as a child. Any person he'd consider through the crosshairs would be subject to the logic of how needful their death was, or how little it would matter.

To distract himself from that depressing line, he moved to one of the support poles and looked toward the roof of the breezeway. He could, of course, get to it easily, but would he be able to get to it easily, if that logic made any sense at all.

Did it matter? It was all in his head anyway.

Heero launched himself from the firm pavement, and marveled when his feet landed on the rooftop. He hadn't thought he'd make it straight-away. He wasn't completely out of practice...so maybe those things that had been drilled so hard into him were still simple muscle movements?

Of course, considering that was considering what had been done to him...how he'd been trained to not feel anything. It amused him that it was Jordan who'd forced him to feel, or when he was feeling without provocation, it had been Jordan who'd explained it...

And it was Jordan...not Duo. But then again, Jordan called him Chance regularly, didn't he?

Heero moved easily along the roof of the breezeway. It only took him a few steps to alter his motions to silence, and that amused him. For a moment he just enjoyed something that seemed somehow forbidden...like his own practices in stealth were against the rules.

Did it not matter anymore that he had successfully infiltrated Relena's school all those years before? Did it not matter that Trowa'd made it high in the ranks of the enemy? ...shit, he'd even made it against Une herself.

Why was it that her precious Duo could do these things while the rest of them could not? Shit, Jor'd been captured during the war, and when he had taken to hiding in a colony he'd managed to completely freak out when his MS was destroyed.

Why did Une think Jordan was so special?

Heero knew there was something different with the guy. Those times when he referred to the man as a god, he meant them. Quatre would follow after like a puppy when the emotional strain of others was becoming overwhelming...but that was all, wasn't it? Wufei had issues with the single-minded acceptance Une afforded the former pilot...and Trowa was Trowa. There was something elementally wrong with the man, if it was only that he was clinically apathetic.

"There you are..." the door to the main building closed and Heero stopped. He recognized the voice. "I said to meet me here hours ago."

But we've been here for hours, Heero noted.

"The Gundam pilots were parked out here," another voice returned. "I somehow didn't think it'd be a good idea to meet up with you here with them within striking range."

"That's true," the man, Matthew Corringer, agreed. "Why did you call me?"

"I feel like I'm being followed," the man snapped.

Heero's eyes strayed across the parking lot as a movement caught his attention.

Riley was standing near a building at the end of the parking lot.

So was this Crater? Heero made a gesture to catch her attention, then the motion that meant fallback. He didn't know what Jordan had taught them, but there were some very elementary signs the five of them used that they'd realized were the same...

Riley nodded tersely and disappeared from view.

"Followed?" Corringer sounded slightly sarcastic. "Why would you be followed?"

"I don't know," the other hissed. "You told me yourself that the bastards Maxwell and Yuy saved Beedus."

There was a strangled seeming noise, followed by a silence.

"Maxwell is an asshole," Corringer muttered after a moment, "But his rank is completely of his own making. He didn't have it handed to him like Winner or Chang...show him some respect."

Wufei'd been handed anything on a silver-platter? Heero shook his head. If he had been, then it'd gone boom with the rest of his world that fateful day in one-nine-five...or was that one-nine-six? It was hard to remember...

"What about Yuy?" the guy demanded. "He was trained since infancy to be what he is..."

If that wasn't the truth...

"I know," Corringer retorted. "I just don't like him."

Damn, the feeling's mutual... Heero sat silently on the far side of the slanted roof.

"I know I have paranoid tendencies," the other man muttered, "But I honestly feel like someone is watching me...like, this chick at the bar was all over me..."

"Are you really that undesirable, Crater?" Corringer was amused.

Okay, that answered that.

"It's not right. Women like that are...evil."

"Evil?" Corringer's tone was scathing. "Crater, no woman is evil."

It was odd to share a thought with a man he hated, and Heero decided he'd never bring it up in conversation.

"I dunno, she just seemed a bit weird."

A note for Jordan.

"...but I feel like I'm being watched." Crater fell silent a moment. "I feel like I'm being listened to...like, now."

So he had some empathic abilities...Heero made a conscious shift of his emotional state from merely hidden to...well, nothing.

"I dunno," Crater groaned a bit. "I thought I saw a girl following me earlier..."

"You're just being paranoid," Corringer noted sarcastically. "Have you found anyone?"

"Beedus, Baits, and Marquise are under constant watch," the guy muttered. "Beedus and Baits have Yuy's bitches ridin'em like obsessive sluts..."

That was offensive...

"...and then Marquise has his loyal men and a few of Yuy's bitches, too."

Corringer made a thoughtful noise. "We'll just have to stay under radar," he noted. "We'll just have to keep our heads down. Until this high alert passes..." the man made another noise. "I should kill them for letting Beedus escape like that. It was bad enough they fucking went through that window to save Baits."

"You found anymore about Doll?"

Heero's blood ran cold.

"They use him," Corringer explained in a dismissive tone. "He'll be of no real use...but there's another. I haven't found out his name yet, but he's attached to Maxwell. He's some cute little guy, you know the type. If we get down to the wire we can grab him and keep him locked up...give Maxwell a few atrocities to make him docile." The idea in and of itself was horrifying...not Xane...Xane had no real world experience. "I don't imagine it'll be too hard to break him. With the way I've seen him moving for touches of affection, beating the fuck out of him will terrify him...and I really wouldn't mind getting even with those two fuckers."

"You gonna kill Breer?" Crater asked curiously.

"Not yet," Corringer reassured him. "Terry is fond of him. We may be able to use him if we can get him to understand the situation."

Heero realized that it was time to graduate Jon from the base lock-in he'd been in to a home lock-in or something similar, where the man could just move into Jordan's...or maybe even get sent back to Angels. In Angels, Jon was the rule...at least, in his part of Angels...and if Jordan went with him they could...cooperate and keep Jon safe.

Lives didn't mean all that much to Chance. If the god of death required those lives, then they would be given to the cause.

Heero wondered briefly if Chance was becoming some sort of split personality, or an easy way to shift moralistic blame away from his own psyche...

"I got the impression that Maxwell had Breer in his pocket," Crater protested.

"We're talking about Terry," Corringer returned. "For those of us who know him, there's no doubting him! He should be the leader! No one knows what's going on," he added. "I've talked to Barton several times, and he doesn't react like someone who knows."

"But Barton..." Crater started.

"I can read him," Corringer snapped. "He's apathetic and will answer honestly. He'll be the way to get my heads-up if something does start coming down. In the mean time, we need to keep a low profile. You got the names for me. Your part was a complete success. Now you need to sit back out of sight and when Shifton ascends his rightful throne..."

It was all Heero could do to keep from snorting.

"...then you'll be rewarded. Can you do that? Can you sit back and do as you're told?"

"You're sure about this? You're sure Shifton is right? You're sure what we've done this far will get overlooked?"

"The Gundam pilots are clueless," Corringer reassured him even more. "No one else would have the means or the freedom of movement on or off the base to pull it off. We're safe. I heard Beedus talking myself. He had no idea who I was. He never saw my face...and the rest of you stayed out of sight."

Heero wished he'd set his phone to dictate this conversation. If he had, all he'd have to do was take it into Une and everything would be finished aside from finding out the list of people who helped. He clicked his phone manually into the mode, hoping...

"So I'll see you on Friday for lunch, right?"

"Yeah...you're paying?"

Corringer snorted in disgust, "That should be obvious. I'm expected in the mech building. I have to go now."

"All right," Crater muttered, "Later."

Heero cursed silently, ending the message and hunkering down. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Riley peaking around the corner and gestured for her to make herself obvious.

The girl moved around the building as if she hadn't just been hiding there, and at the same time, Corringer moved from under the breezeway. Heero felt a moment of protective jealousy. He wanted to shout at Corringer not to look at the girl that way as Riley flashed the man an utterly coy grin and started to move past him.

The building doors closed.

"Hey, would a man be asking too much to share a cup of coffee?" Corringer offered, turning to look at her ass.

That wasn't his ass to ogle, damn it.

"I can't right now," Riley sounded actually disappointed. "I'd love to, but..."

"How about a number, then? I can call you some time when you may not be so busy?"

"Wouldn't it be easier to give me your number?" she returned sweetly.

"If you're gonna tell me no, then tell me no," Corringer protested at her. "Don't just brush me off."

Riley giggled, moving toward him with a pen and piece of paper. She scribbled on it quickly, then passed it to him. "My name is Riley," she added, pulling away. "I'm busy during week-days."

"Weekends are better anyway," Corringer agreed, studying the number before tucking it into his wallet. "I like your name...my name's Mat."

Riley made a giggling noise at him, then waved slightly and started under the breezeway area.

"Fuck me runnin'," Corringer muttered in a near whisper as he watched her. He turned then, and started for his car. Heero hunkered down even lower on the rooftop, watching the vehicle turn on...then sit there a few minutes. Finally, the car backed out and disappeared down the road.

"Yuy?" Riley's voice came from almost at his feet.

Heero jumped, turning to look down at the girl's head...it was barely visible above the edge of the roof area.

"What are you doing?"

"Jogging," Heero explained, then gestured for her to move aside and started sliding down. "You'll never believe what I just overheard."

"Crater confessed?"

"Not so much confessed as confided," Heero noted. "Stop following him. He's paranoid about it. I don't want to lose you," he jumped to the ground. "So keep your head down."

Before she could respond, Heero'd grabbed her by the hips and swung her off the low half-wall she'd been standing on. "Go tell Jor that our impacted friend has empathic abilities."

"Impacted friend?" she asked blankly.

"You're not supposed to ask me what I mean," Heero reminded her. "I'll tell you what you need to know and in return you're supposed to trust that we won't get you killed without good reason."

Riley stared at him in disbelief.

Heero shoved at her slightly, "Go, already."

The girl gave him another look, then turned and started down the breezeway as Heero shook his head.

Someday, they'd just obey.

X x X x X

E/N: Yeah, that got a little long...but yeah, what're you gonna do?