Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Psychotic America ❯ Waiting For The Future ( Chapter 7 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Manga-Chick 
Alex and Mueller are introduced to their newest employer...
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Hentai / Action | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 09.20.2005 | Pages: 3 | Words: 8.2K | Visits: 346 | Status: Completed
Alex and Mueller are introduced to their newest employer...
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Hentai / Action | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 09.20.2005 | Pages: 3 | Words: 8.2K | Visits: 346 | Status: Completed
Alternate Universe, fusion, out of character charas, very disturbing information and scenes and Pairings: 1x4, 2x5 3(?)
Standard Disclaimers Apply: Don’t own Gundam Wing nor X-Men
Notes: Some stuff was changed around, here. I deleted some stuff, added some stuff, so it’s still the long winded, pompous bag that ya’ll are familiar with–just with some differences.
O0o0o0o0o0oO means scene change
Chapter Seven:
Meeting With The Future
Alex hustled quickly through the airport, his roll along suitcase dragging along behind him. Furious blue eyes scanned the mass within Kennedy as he worked his way through the crowd, uncaring of whom and what he did to people as he made his way out. Dressed in the nines, from the overcoat and the wingtip shoes, his personage as one of the more higher classed persons was obvious. Even his blond hair was tousled just so, his bangs sweeping with controlled movement against his pale forehead.
“C’mon, man, I’m starving!” Mueller complained as Alex stopped before the long line of taxis, aiming for a higher classed vehicle. “Starving!”
“Fucking Christ! Can you stop your bloody complaining!” Alex snapped, glancing around at the people that stared at them curiously. He lowered his voice, hissing, “For five fucking minutes, would you stop complaining!”
“I’m fucking starving, Alex! Can you be a little more compassionate about it!” Mueller hissed back, glancing at all of the people that stared his way, frowning slightly. “It’s been nearly two days! My entire body hurts!”
“No! All right? No! Just–fucking shut up and grab that case. We need to meet up with our prospective employer in, like, two hours.”
Mueller grumbled underneath his breath as he grabbed the handle of the suitcase, and lugged it after him. They made their way to a Mercedes, and rapped on the roof. Alex took the case, handing it to the harried driver when he emerged from the vehicle and rounded the hood to meet them. He then opened the door to the back seat. After they were settled on the long bench seat, the driver setting the suitcase within the trunk, Mueller looked at Alex, lifting his hands.
“Look. Look!”
Alex shifted his angry gaze from the window, and looked down at the trembling hands, of which were continuously changing color, the small mouths within the palms opening with silent wails. He pushed them down onto the seat as the driver climbed in.
“Where will it be, sir?” he asked, adjusting the rearview mirror.
Mueller gave him the address, settling back in his seat as the car pulled away from the curb. He looked at Alex, who was tugging at the too tight tie at his collared neck. The man was highly irritated, and while Mueller could understand, his own situation was much more damaging than a few high-strung hours on a plane.
But, sensing Alex’s fury, he decided to tread carefully. The reason for their hasty return to the States had wanted to meet them at a low-key restaurant within a few hours, and Alex was more than ready to meet with the man. But Mueller didn’t know the reason for the visit–he thought they were getting along well in London, which was where they were originally from. Visiting their home had been a pleasant, if not unsatisfying experience.
“Who are we meeting, again? I don’t understand what we’re supposed to be doing here.”
Alex sighed heavily, shaking his head. The trim blond locks fluttered about as he swept a hand through them, feeling Mueller’s agitation on his face as the driver looked back at them within the review mirror.
“He didn’t give his name. Just an address,” Alex replied, eyebrows furrowing with thought. “In the mean time, why don’t you just sit back in your seat and relax a little, all right? Try and concentrate on other things.”
“I don’t feel so good, man. I think...I think we should stop at the condo before–!”
“NO! Look! Keep your cravings under control, all right? You’re making me look bad! You’re always so bad at giving in!” Alex snapped at him, nervous hands reaching into the inside jacket pocket and withdrawing a vibrating cellphone. “Now, shut up! Yeah?”
“Mueller?”
“Alex! ALEX! Damn it, you have the wrong fucking number!!”
“Excuse me...”
Alex sighed, snapping the phone shut and sliding it into his inside jacket pocket. Moments later, Mueller pulled out and answered his cell phone, nervously chewing on his nails as he did so. “This is Mueller...”
“I...I’m sorry sir, terribly sorry. I...had the number of someone else, and when I called, he–”
“Oh, no problem. It happens all the time. What can I do for you, Sylvia?”
“Well, I have your messages. Which you like me to read them?”
“Go ahead.” Mueller began listening to the messages that his secretary had recorded while he was away in England. Alex rolled his eyes and drummed his fingers with much impatience on the door.
Ignoring Mueller’s calm replies to several inquiries from his secretary, Alex stared at the passing scenery outside the window, contemplating New York City. It certainly hadn’t been his favorite city, but it was tolerable, and there were plenty of people around to keep his partner satisfied. Ever since Mueller had his first taste of forbidden satisfaction over a year ago, Alex had tried to be patient with him. He tried reasoning with him and tried to lower his intake. But Mueller, being the weak bastard that he was, couldn’t stop his ever-growing need of taking over various mutants’ energies.
Mueller had been born a parasite mutant–he didn’t have his choice in mutant abilities. Mutants never had their choice of being what they were, and when they discovered their abilities, if wasn’t as if they could be ‘shut off’ or ignored. Mueller had grown to satisfy his need for blood by attacking smaller animals throughout his London estate, and countless pets. He’d learned to curb his cravings and learned to draw out his victims so they didn’t die immediately, but had eventually graduated to humans. There were many kooky humans out there, and Mueller had stumbled upon his first mutant quite upon accident.
It had been a blind date–things had progressed rather quickly and hours after dinner, Alex had learned that Mueller had found a woman that had been into vampiric-like activity, and had discovered his need to feed quite innocently. Mueller had learned that he could get away with his activities if he took tiny bites and tasted quickly. The woman had been a self-healer and hadn’t really noticed. Alex wasn’t into women, but Mueller was. He especially loved the women on the rag for appropriate reasons...
But as such, the woman had finally realized what was going on when she realized that Mueller wasn’t just giving her hickies–she’d quite begged for more, more than turned on by the activity. Of course, one thing led to another and Alex had gotten a frantic phone call from Mueller, who had killed the woman when he hadn’t released her quickly enough. Alex helped Mueller hide the grisly murder and it wasn’t long after that one that Mueller was confessing to how he liked the sensation of mutant ‘energy’. At first, Alex didn’t know what he’d been talking about–Mueller fed off blood, animal and human alike, not energy.
So when Mueller took another mutant, a lonely woman with a mutant capability to create food out of mid-air (how lame was that?), Alex had stepped in to intervene. But Mueller had described the high he’d gotten from killing a mutant, not only feeding off their blood, which was richer and more potent than a normal humans’, but their energy–their mutant energy. Alex was a little more than disgusted at Mueller’s growing reaction to such things, and had noticed that Mueller, needing a ‘hit’ more and more and finding his drug of relief in the various homeless throughout the city, was able to locate mutants simply by recognizing their energy auras. It was quite fascinating, actually–not the killing, of course, but the fact that Mueller could locate mutants simply by their auras.
Now, Alex had been involved with a man that was interested in mutants–not for the same reasons as Mueller, but because the man himself was searching for particular mutants. So, when Alex let the man know what Mueller was able to do, the man had grown interested in his friend. And thus, the tentative relationship between them all–Alex had a basic Fuck-Buddy who used Mueller to locate mutants and in the end, Alex and Mueller were paid finely and the man had his share of mutants at his particular disposal. Mueller had participated only because he was given his own hits in payment–nameless muties that the man had found on the street. Everyone was happy.
Except for Mueller, whose addiction had grown and changed into something hideous. Alex lost his Fuck-Buddy and he was angry, constantly, at the world. The man had been great in bed and Mueller ruined it all because of his stupid weakness. Now and then, the man got a hold of them, but only because he and his partner, who’d requested them today, wanted Mueller to locate a certain mutant for them. Alex was only going along because he needed the money.
Mueller suddenly jerked, his changing hands displaying their vampiric changes with a wild look in Alex’s face, desperate for some form of guidance. Alex merely looked at him in disgust, clenching his fists and bunching them on his lap.
“Your weakness disgusts me, man,” Alex snapped, frowning as Mueller made a helpless shrug and returned to his cell phone.
The driver glanced back at him, eyes clearly displaying his puzzled expression.
Alex saw this, and glared at him.
“WHAT?” he barked, wide blue eyes narrowing with irritated fury.
“Er...nothing, sir. Just...I’ve never seen anyone with that...color hair, before...”
“Mueller? Sir?”
“I’m sorry. My friend’s getting irritated with our driver over nothing,” Mueller assured his secretary, pressing a finger against his other ear in an effort to hear her better. “Go on...”
“Keep your stupid Indian nose out of our business, all right? Did we ask for you to fucking pay attention to what we’re doing, or for you to just drive?” Alex continued, leaning forward in his seat.
“No-no, sir! I’m sorry, sir. Want me to put up the divider?”
“YES! Get your stupid face out of our business!!”
“Mueller, sir? Er...you want me to call back at another time?”
“No, no...well, perhaps. Just save it all until I get back, all right? I’m so sorry, my friend’s a little high strung,” Mueller apologized, shooting Alex a furious glare. After Sylvia confirmed this, she hung up, and Mueller put his cell away. He looked at his shaking hands once more, gesturing at Alex. “Look at this shit. I can’t believe this. This is...ridiculous!”
Alex shoved his hands away, and Mueller slid them underneath his thighs in an effort to keep them from his sight. Nervously, he rocked from side to side, beads of moisture building on his forehead. In irritation, Alex focused on the outside, huffing as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“This is all your fault, you know,” he began, his voice a low growl.
“I couldn’t help it! I just...I just need, need, need...and it ended up out of control.”
“We can’t fix it. No one wants to help mutants. We can’t just walk into a rehab center and get cured! Thanks to you, you’re suffering and delusional. Let’s just hope this guy can help us out, like he said he would. Personally, this little endeavor of yours is going to get me fired from my job.”
“What? But...why?”
“Because of your stupid cravings! It interferes with my life, and it’s fucking everything up!”
“Me? What the hell did I do?”
“Never mind. What messages did Sylvia have to give you?”
“Nothing of interest...”
“Not that I care, but they had to be something of interest.”
“Just the usual. We were discussing the merger with Bronson and Bronson, but that was about it. It’s not even a big-time watercooler topic.”
“That old dick and his dickhead son has nothing valuable for the company. I suggest you don’t even think of accepting it. You’ll only screw up your own chances in promoting yourself to the bigger companies when you hire them. They lost the big multi-billion dollar case with South Korea last year. Remember that? It was only the biggest fuck-up in world business...”
“I know, I know,” Mueller muttered, shifting in his seat. He stared at his hands, careful to keep them where the driver couldn’t see them. Alex stared down at the constantly shifting appendages, and snorted in disgust before turning his attention back to the window, watching New York Bay flitter with the surrounding lights of the city.
O0o0o0o0o0oO
Treize Kushrehnada and Zechs Merquise watched the tall, blond man walk into the restaurant, his light face an expression of fury. Zechs, after thrusting his long, blond hair over one broad shoulder, leaned over to Trieze. With a slight smirk on his handsome face, he recognized his former lover’s agitation and knew that this meeting would do nothing to calm the blond.
“Someone’s a little high strung,” he commented lightly, brushing his long hair from his face. He glanced around the posh restaurant, which was dim with various candle lights and plenty of privacy. The closest table to them was located more than twenty feet away, and that couple looked to be doing more than holding hands on top of the table top. “Should we continue? We could drop out, look for someone else...”
“No. We’ll continue.” Trieze held up a hand, signaling at the blond that began marching in his direction, looking more than a little frazzled. Alex was an average sized man, maybe around five eleven and a hundred and fifty pounds, dressed in terribly expensive clothing that suggested he was more than well off, and looked more than frazzled, his wide blue eyes darting here and there with some turmoil. Trieze had to hide his smirk behind his glass–this was the first time he’d seen Alex before, and Zechs had mentioned in passing that he hadn’t been much to look at. But the man more than fit Treize’s needs, if what Zechs had told him was true.
Usually, Zechs was the one to work with him, and Trieze hadn’t been interested simply because his mind was on other things. But because this subject was considered very important, Treize had decided to come along and see for himself what made this man so special.
Taking a seat opposite them, Alex saw Zechs as the blond stared down at the trembling hands that were currently folding themselves on top of a fidgeting lap.
“How was your flight?” Zechs asked, his voice low and husky, reminding Alex with a painful twist in his gut what he’d missed. Damn Mueller!
“Just dandy. Took a little longer than I like,” Mueller said, giving a slight smile as he looked from Zechs to the other man. The other man was a brunette, his exotic features registering light blue eyes, boyish curls over a pleasing forehead, and curled lips that looked inviting and yet contemptuous all at the same time. Zechs and the man were dressed finely in expensive material, and Mueller had to guess that the other man, the nameless one, was going to be the one issuing the assignment today. He wondered, with a flex of his hands, how soon he was going to be paid.
“I understand you would like to negotiate a little contract?”
“I would like a little more detail on this subject, of course,” Alex interrupted, looking at Zechs, then at Treize. “Who are you?”
Trieze blinked at the abrupt demand, sitting back in his chair.
Zechs smiled, waving at him. “This is my associate, Treize Kushrehnada. He’s the one that will be issuing you your assignment. He is also the man in charge of your payment. You should care to address him more courteously, Alex.”
“I don’t understand what this contract will consist of, and I would like to get the details before we sign on,” Alex said again, crossing his arms over his chest. Then, with an irritated glance at Mueller, frowned. “And if we can make this quick. Thanks to Mueller, we’re currently in a little bind.”
“Let’s make it brief,” Treize said, lifting his flute of wine to his lips, and taking a languid sip. He kept noticing the use of the words ‘we’ and the shifts of glances, the change in pitch and tone whenever the man opened his mouth. Zechs was right–it was a little confusing at first, but he began to understand why Zechs had been so interested in wanting an affair with the man. Assuming that he was speaking to Alex, he said, “I understand you had to make a business trip to London?”
“Yes! It fucking sucked! All right? Let’s get a move on!” Alex was pissed–this man was a looker. Zechs must have dumped him for this lovely creature, and it burned his gourd with defeat.
“I’m really sorry about him, Mr. Kushrehnada,” Mueller apologized, looking flustered as he reached for the silver utensils, fiddling with them. “He’s a little...agitated. Long flight.”
“I see,” Treize muttered, lifting a forked eyebrow, and nodding at Mueller with a smile. He reached into the open briefcase at his side, and withdrew a simple manila folder, which was thick with information that he’d made copies of. “This is our business...”
Trieze pushed the folder forward, and Mueller took it, opening it to reveal a grainy black and white photo. It was of a couple of boys, both of them different nationalities and were dressed similar to each other. It looked as if they didn’t know they were being photographed, and looked in the process of walking. What made the photo strange was the same way they dressed–as if...they were some part of some clandestine group. The other photos consisted of the same boys, but another was added in variation. They all wore the same things–and they all looked oblivious to fact that they were being photographed.
He studied the pictures for several seconds, then stiffened as he found a couple more photos, of two different boys. One was pale and skeletal, and the other was braided and thin. They, too, didn’t know they were being photographed, and looked in the process of hauling groceries home from a namebrand outlet with a woman. Occasionally, they were pictured with a couple or one of the other boys from the previous photos. He shuffled through the other various photos, frowning. For some reason...the much more thinner boys looked eerily familiar, and his mind raced, trying to picture them with names.
He was also confused as to what this assignment meant. It was definitely much more different from the others he’d performed before. Usually, Zechs had him searching for a particular boy in various foster, orphanages and streets. These boys looked as if they belonged to a clean house and nice family. Except, they definitely didn’t look related.
“What...what is this?” he murmured as he paused on a particular photo, studying the features of the blond, then looking at the braided one. They looked so familiar!
“These mutants are our business. They aren’t registered, and all were homeless at one point,” Treize began, swirling the contents in his glass with an interested expression. “They were taken in by kind benefactors and have been within our interest for quite some time. I would like your help in locating these boys. It’s your basic search and locate assignment.”
Alex gave him a disgusted expression, looking at the photos. They were good-looking kids, he had to admit. Shuffling through them, he paused on a particular photo, forehead furrowing as recognition dawned on him.
“As if Mueller needs this agitation, sir. Really. We’ve done much less for much more. What’s the reason behind this story?” he asked on a murmur, setting the other photos aside, his eyes caressing the features of the boy he was looking at. His hands flexed, and he felt an unconscious warmth of lust penetrate his lower belly. The photos really didn’t do him any justice–they either blurred his pretty features or completely washed him out.
Mueller lifted an eyebrow, wondering why Alex was so interested in the photo.
“Their powers are...of interest to us.” Treize looked at Zechs, wondering just how much he should divulge in. Zechs shifted in his seat, resting his chin upon the backs of his hands, his elbows resting on the table. He stared across the table at Alex, who was paying too much attention to a simple photo and not to him.
“And what do you people do?” Alex asked, finally dropping the photo and setting it aside, mind working.
“Alex, be quiet,” Mueller commanded, looking at him angrily.
“What?” Alex looked at him with an annoyed frown. “Wouldn’t you want to know what’s in it for them before taking the damn job? They could be working to sell you out, you stupid bastard!”
Mueller looked at Treize, apologizing with his eyes. In a way, he understood Alex. He’d killed too many mutants to satisfy his bloodlust, and the thought that Treize and Zechs may be setting them up for appropriate effort may be a possibility. “Erm, sorry about this, Mr. Kushrehnada.”
“Don’t be. I understand. Listen, Alex...Mueller. This job will only require the appropriate location of their whereabouts, and perhaps a little more. I assure you...the reward will be worth the results that I get from your work if you succeed.”
“What’s the reward?” Alex asked, lifting an eyebrow as he glanced at the photo once more.
“I would like...a permanent form of sustenance...something that won’t...” Mueller began, fidgeting nervously in his seat, wringing his hands.
“I can cure your...addiction, Mueller.” Treize murmured, lifting both eyebrows with interest.
At this, even Alex looked interested, as Mueller’s blue eyes widened considerably. “Really? How?”
“I...have my ways. Now. Shall we begin negotiating?”
After much detail had been discussed, Alex and Mueller had agreed to Trieze’s contract of the job. The pair then left the table, preparing themselves to commence their operations by tomorrow, after they received appropriate rest from their trip overseas. Trieze shook his head slightly, chuckling with amusement as he looked at his partner.
“Multiple personalities. Interesting. He must make real convenient entertainment on the sidewalks, arguing amongst...er, himself. How in the world did you ever locate this man? Who’s the base personality?”
“Alex is the base personality, but as of lately, Mueller’s more dominate because of his addiction.” Zechs smirked. “Certainly makes things interesting, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, he does. And he’s trustworthy? Excuse me. Are they trustworthy?”
“They’ve worked for you before, Treize. You saw their results. Mueller’s able to locate mutants because of that endearing addiction. Alex is his reason.”
“You and your men, Mr. Merquise. You certainly know how to entertain yourself,” Treize chuckled, finishing off his wine. “I’m sure it was utterly fascinating being in bed with one man and actually sleeping with two.”
“Mueller isn’t into men, Treize. But Alex is.”
Treize looked up when someone approached their table, bringing with them a strong, musky scent of perfume. Zechs looked away from his partner as well, smirking.
The woman bowed slightly, long, blond hair cascading over her shoulder as she lifted the hem of her dress in a slight curtsy.
“Mr. Merquise, Mr. Kushrehnada,” she greeted in a low, husky voice, abnormally formed eyebrows furrowing slightly with mirth. She straightened, brushing her thick hair over her shoulder. “Utterly fascinating to find you here. I thought this section of the city didn’t appeal to you?”
“We had business, Miss Catalonia. Please, sit,” Treize murmured, indicating the chair that Alex/Mueller had left. The young woman did so, her material shifting around her as she did so. Dressed in Versace, the young woman was every inch of her rich background. Her light blue eyes flickered with cold amusement as she faced the two men opposite her. “Care to share what you find so funny?”
“I have performed my job, sir. And I have discovered nothing that may interest you,” she began, demurely lowering her eyes. “The family reveals nothing but a simpering mutant too afraid to evoke his own talent, lest he destroy himself. He possesses nothing of the talent you have searched for.”
Treize looked disappointed, but nodded. Zechs leaned forward, arms on the table. “Dead end?”
“Most certainly.” Dorothy eyed the photos that lay before her, and shuffled through them. With a slight smirk, she used her fingertips to brush them aside, studying the faces captured within. “Yum. They sure grow well, don’t they? Lovely little boys...”
“Mind yourself, Dorothy. If they even sense that you’re spying on them, they won’t hesitate to kill you this time,” Treize chuckled, signaling for a waiter. “The last time you encountered them, Heero barely held back. He was quite furious, I recall.”
“Yes, very,” Dorothy agreed, smiling as she came upon the next pictures. “Mm. They adopted more children? Such a tragedy that Sally and Catherine cannot have one of their own, lest they soil their pure bodies with a man’s touch...they are missing out on delicious things.”
“Dorothy, how would you like another assignment?”
“Keeps idle hands busy, Mr. Kushrehnada. How many I pleasure you?”
“I’ve hired a fascinating creature to locate our mutants. Unfortunately, I don’t think he’s capable of handling himself against Operation: Gundam. He may do well against one, but not against an entire trio. I would like you to accompany him as he goes in search for our mutants. He has his assignment–just accommodate yourself with it,” Treize ordered, lifting his forked eyebrows. “And remember, Miss Catalonia–no more than an hour. They haven’t any telepaths, but you cut it very close the last time you infiltrated. We won’t be so knightly the next time they discover your deception.”
“I’ve learned my lesson, Treize, dear,” Dorothy murmured, touching her flawless cheek as she carefully put the photos away. She rose from her chair, smoothing her dress over her long, slim legs. She curtsied lightly and walked off, long blond hair swept behind her with a flourish.
Treize looked at Zechs. “I love when she does that,” he chuckled.
Zechs merely shook his head and gave an discreet mocking expression. “Only you would get off on being treated as some sort of royalty. That girl worships you.”
“She worships power, Zechs.”
“Which is strange...because you have none.”
Treize merely chuckled and signaled for another glass refill. Such things hadn’t bothered him before.
O0o0o0o0o0oO
Duo was excited–his first night on the job had been fascinating! There wasn’t very much to do, through, and he was bored after the first hour...but he’d found ways to entertain himself. He’d learned that Operation: Gundam, with its fascinating array of justice-serving quality, was just another name for a mutant law enforcement group that operated on its own rules. Their mutant, the one that killed for livers, had eluded them tonight, but then again, New York City and its surrounding friends were large and broad. Their killer had thought to prey on those that ventured stupidly through Central Park and other such areas without any form of protection or company. Most of them were late-night joggers, and the killer had preferred those that were healthy.
Trowa, in bloodhound form, had sniffed and searched his way with the others nearby, but had found no trace of their killer. Heero had gone his separate ways, looking for impossible clues throughout alleyways and abandoned buildings, and Wufei had zipped from place to place, searching out the areas the killer had used to take his/her victims’ livers. He’d searched for clues that would fit his own inquiries and had come up with nothing more than a few hairs and some questionable photographs with a digital camera and a secret visit to the precinct assigned to track the killer.
Duo, meanwhile, having no real idea of what he was supposed to be doing, had merely walked through the park on his own, his hidden communicator buzzing with the activity from the other two as they searched for various things around him. Trowa’s was hidden as a collar on his dog form and hadn’t bothered with any form of communication with the lot of them–but he’d found simple amusement in chasing Duo across the park with a savage snarl of his drooling lips and snapping teeth. Duo hadn’t found it amusing–that guy freaked him out in more ways than one. Sometimes, he couldn’t tell if Trowa was serious or not, but he’d rather not get caught by those snapping teeth.
After that, when the morning sun began peeking over the horizon, they had headed back home. Duo was tired, and a little miffed that he had no real idea on what to do, but he felt satisfied that he’d done something. By the time they’d come into the large Victorian, trampling loudly with no regards to whomever was still asleep, Trowa and Heero were arguing over something regarding breakfast and Wufei was busily fingering his baggies of stolen evidence that he’d taken from the precinct that was assigned to the killer’s actions. Duo, with a tired sigh, tossed his fitting jacket off and threw that aside, on the couch. His feet were sore, and he felt horribly out of shape. He knew that by tonight, he was going to be one walking mass of sore muscle, because he hadn’t performed such activity before.
Wufei had been in charge of getting him into shape, but Trowa had been the one to chase him across the park. Scowling now at the taller boy’s backside, Duo walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. He pulled out sandwich materials and yawned loudly. They sure kept odd hours.
He made himself a peanut butter and banana sandwich, then looked up to see Wufei on the phone, examining a labeled baggie as he sat at the dinner table. Lowering his lashes, Duo studied Wufei–the Chinese was exotic, serious, and the towel in the boys’ activities. He took himself seriously, and he was the first to reprimand anyone that wasn’t doing their job. Duo wondered how someone that good-looking could be so stiff.
Wufei was drawing his eyebrows closer, holding the baggie up in the air so that it caught the light of the morning sun that filtered in through one of the dining room windows. Duo automatically ducked a flying piece of ham and hurried out from the kitchen to avoid the emerging food fight between the other two mutants. Wufei was talking to one of the doctors. By the time he hung up, Heero had Trowa pinned to the floor, and from the sounds of it, a very irritated Walrus was having none of that.
Duo peered into the kitchen with a crazed expression as Wufei sighed, hanging his head.
“QUATRE!!” Wufei shouted in irritation, thrusting the phone aside while Duo turned in his seat to face him. Wufei looked at Duo, holding up the baggie.
“Evidence from the last murder,” he said, examining the baggie. “It’s the killer’s fingernail. Must have been scraped off when he or she had pinned their victim on the ground.”
Duo lifted an eyebrow and gulped his sandwich down. “Ouch. It looks pretty nasty.”
“It’s intact. Fairly clean.” Wufei examined the hardened material. “S, with his powers, can touch it and see who it belongs to.”
Duo licked his fingers, frowning. “What powers do they all have?”
“I–QUATRE!!” Wufei interrupted himself to bellow again as the sounds from the kitchen grew louder, and something crashed to the tile. “Dr J has the power of invention–he’s the one that made us our suits, and our communications units. Everything electronic he can put together with various scraps of material that you can find wherever. G has the power of mind–he can deliver crushing blows to a person, as you witnessed that one night with Quatre. S, you saw. H has the power to create duplicates of himself. And O can use force fields on things, and can be intangible. They’re all possess superior intellects, and that’s missing every time they come over here. They’re five year olds trapped in old bodies.”
“Oh.” Duo picked up the baggie and stared at the nail within. He found himself ducking when he heard the shrill sound of something slicing through the air, and Wufei plucked the flying object out of the air with his speed. Wufei glared at the cutting knife that had been thrown, and set that down on the table.
The nail was short, groomed, and lightly glossy. There was some form of dirty substance within, and the faint inkling of darkness on the tops.
Blood? He thought as Wufei growled in irritation, rising from his seat.
Duo frowned, looking after him and watching with some detached wonder as Trowa flew through the air, slamming through the basement door and disappearing behind the swinging door. Heero’s roar of triumph echoed throughout the house seconds later, and it was immediately silenced with a loud metallic bang. He shifted back in his seat as Wufei and Heero began arguing. Picking up the baggie, Duo frowned at the fingernail. This person...whomever it was...why would they need livers? Unless they were selling them on the black market. Whatever sinister purpose could they be used for?
Trowa walked out from the basement, rubbing his rear. When he saw that Duo was holding up an evidence baggie, he took a chair at the end of the table and rifled through the many others that Wufei had taken as well.
“What’s all this?” he questioned, looking at Duo.
“Stuff from the murder scenes,” Duo answered, setting the back down. “What do you have?”
“Hair...material...stuff taken from under the victim’s fingernails,” Trowa murmured, looking at the labels on the baggies. “S can figure it out.”
“That’s what Wufei said.”
“Well, isn’t he on the ball?” Trowa asked sarcastically, rising from his chair and walking toward the stairway.
Duo rose from his seat, walking into the kitchen to see that Heero was peeling potatoes, and Wufei was preparing to toss strips of bacon into a heating frying pan. Grinning at the thought of food, Duo bounced over to the stovetop, hanging onto Wufei’s shoulder.
“Whatcha cooking?” he asked, inhaling the scent of frying fat.
“I want hash browns. Duo, get out the eggs and start mixing them,” Heero ordered, looking over his shoulder at the long-haired boy.
Duo shrugged and performed what was expected. After several long minutes of frying meat and the scraping of potatoes in a shredder, Duo grew startled at the sound of a phone ringing. Heero abandoned his task and went to answer the cordless, leaving Wufei and Duo alone in the kitchen.
“Well, Duo? What did you think of your first night out?” Wufei asked, looking at him as he flipped the strips of bacon in the pan.
Duo gave a half-scowl. “It was kind of boring.”
“We really didn’t have much to go on,” Wufei admitted. “But we may have better luck, tonight. S and the others are planning to come over and examine the evidence. I need to return them all tonight.”
“Trowa chased me all night.”
“I forgot that it was my assignment to get you in shape. He took over on that task,” Wufei said with a sigh. “Did you do much on the street?”
“Other than looking for food and walking here and there, not really. I never found reason to run. I just teleported.”
“Hm,” Wufei murmured as he finished frying up his bacon. Then, eyeing the amount he’d made, he wondered if he should cook up the rest of the package, and set about doing so. “It’s not that hard. Perhaps a light jog in the morning and evenings, before you go out and before you head to sleep. I’ll run with you–Trowa would probably get you hurt.”
“What’s with that guy, anyway? He’s really creepy, in a way.”
“He and Heero are like that. They’re incapable of feelings, I think. Trowa, most definitely. Catherine and the others think he’s a sociopath. Heero...I don’t know. He doesn’t care on one level, but then again, he tends to surprise us when he does display his emotions. I think I’m the more normal out of them, and that’s not saying very much.”
“I think you’re normal, too,” Duo agreed, smiling at him. “You’re not all psychotic like they are.”
Wufei felt his cheeks heating slightly, and wondered if that had some deeper meaning. He looked over at Duo from over his shoulder, and found the boy smiling brightly at him. With some nervous fluster, he turned and tended to the meat within the pan. Silence descended around them, and Heero walked into the kitchen once more, tending to his hash browns.
“He’s back,” he announced stoically, browning the sides evenly. “The guy that attacked you and Quatre. He’s back from England.”
Wufei looked up from the frying strips of bacon. “Really? Is that some cause for concern?” he asked, frowning.
“It is if he’s working for Treize.”
Wufei froze, frowning as he stared at Heero’s cold expression. “Treize? But...I thought that was over with.”
“Dr J’s informant let the old man know that he and Treize were talking very privately last night. Zechs was with him, as well as...Dorothy.”
Wufei shuddered at the woman’s name, closing his eyes briefly. Duo stared from one to the other curiously. “Guys? What’s that all mean?” he ventured, pausing in mixing the seasoning with the eggs he’d mixed in a bowl.
Heero grunted and turned to resume frying up the hash browns. “Treize is an old adversary of ours, Duo. He’s the doctors’ old acquaintance and helped organize our group. Then, half a dozen years ago, he began this search for all powerful mutants–he wants to destroy the world. Treize loves control. He buys and uses mutants at his disposal, but he’s completely normal. He’s a non-mutant.”
“Why do you think he’s working for Treize?” Wufei asked quietly. “There must be something special about that man. Duo, do you think you can tell us anything else about what happened that night?”
“I told you all that I know, man,” Duo said with a shake of his head. “Ask Quat. He’s the one the guy tried to kill.”
“Heero, ask him about it. If Treize is siding with that man, then perhaps we should raise some concern with the doctors over Duo and Quatre,” Wufei said, frowning in his partner’s direction. “If that mutant had had a taste of our companion, what if he comes after him?”
Heero grunted, finishing up the hash browns. “I’ll talk to him.”
“What kind of mutants work for this Treize guy?” Duo asked curiously, taking his spot at the stove as Heero abandoned his section, tossing his cooked food onto a paper towel and soaking up the grease that oozed from the shredded strands.
“There’s about six in all, but they all vary,” Wufei said. “Treize hires them out mainly as mercenaries. They all have lives and jobs on the side, but when he needs one, he goes and recruits them. He has a mutant working for him, this man named Zechs Merquise, and he’s basically Treize’s first lieutenant of sorts. He’s the one working the mutants while Treize gives out orders from a safe location. The doctors would really like Treize to be ‘put away’ because his ambitions can get truly horrifying at times. He’s willing to kill both mutant and human to get into a position that can dominate the world. Sometimes, though, the notion’s truly ridiculous. He can’t achieve that goal without an army. But there are some people that would be willing to follow him if persuaded.”
Duo snorted as Heero left the kitchen. “I can believe that. Humans hate mutants, and vice versa.”
“Yes. But if enough people follow Treize’s ideals, then something’s incredibly wrong,” Wufei said, nodding with a serious frown as he finished his job and dumped the crackling heated oil into an old food can that sat on the stove for such a purpose.
Duo began cooking the eggs he’d mixed and frowned as he prodded at it with his spatula. He sighed, looking over at the Chinese as he carefully blotted grease from the brown pieces of bacon. Blushing slightly, because he thought that Wufei was certainly very attractive and Duo was feeling pretty attracted to him, he focused on his eggs and tried not to think about how Wufei’s smell made him feel.
O0o0o0o0o0oO:
At breakfast, Duo happily ate up all that he had on his plate, scraping everything together enthusiastically, mixing it all with ketchup. The red substance had to be the greatest invention to man’s palate, because it truly made everything awesome. He finished licking his lips, looking at everyone else at the table–Wufei in particular. The Chinese was taking his time in eating, cutting everything just so and chewing with slow, calculated bites. Heero was demolishing a serving platter’s worth of food, Trowa had made a mountain of lumpy, miscolored food that looked totally inedible, Quatre was fiddling with his share with a slight, distrustful expression, and the women were picking through their share, conversing softly to each other on the events for today.
Duo himself was sleepy–his eyelids fluttered as he found himself pausing to take a drink of his orange juice. Wufei looked tired as well, Trowa openly yawning and stretching, and Heero taking long moments to blink. Seeing that everyone was going to bed after they ate, Duo figured that a good day’s worth of sleep would help him feel better before they met with the old men tonight. He shifted his attention from his empty plate to Sally and Catherine.
“What are you guys going to do today?” he asked, interrupting them.
“We need groceries,” Sally said on a sigh, turning to him. “We’ll probably head over to Costco and load up once more.”
“I can give you a list of what we’ll need,” Wufei said, looking in their direction. He gave Duo a frown when Duo opened his mouth to give his opinion. “What we really need is nutritional food, not junk.”
“And ketchup! Lots of it!” Duo added, frowning at the loss of junk food.
“I see,” Catherine murmured, looking at the red streaks that decorated Duo’s plate. “We’ll add ketchup to the list.”
“Do you boys need anything for your bathroom or anything?” Sally asked. “Shampoo? Toothpaste?”
“We could use some of that,” Heero spoke up from his end of the table. “Especially body deodorant. Trowa’s funk is spreading into the bedroom.”
“Only you would be jealous of my manly scent,” Trowa piped up, looking at him from between Wufei and Catherine.
“Why would I be–?”
“OF COURSE, Heero,” Sally interrupted the insults with a rise of her voice. “Anything else? Toilet paper? Cleaner?”
“Maybe some body lotion, Sally,” Wufei said, indicating his arms. “We’re running out.”
“Well, if you and Duo would just fuck already, you wouldn’t be using it to jack off so much,” Trowa muttered while Wufei’s face turned bright red, and Catherine uttered a shocked sound, fork clattering to her plate. Duo looked mortified, blinking continuously as Trowa pushed back from the table.
“All done! Can I go, mommy?”
“I DO NOT!” Wufei shouted after him, Trowa’s stiff laughter carrying out from the living room. Wufei looked at Duo, and turned purple as Duo looked at him with an unreadable expression.
Sally sighed, dropping her fork onto the plate. “Can’t we just have good little boys that aren’t so vulgar and rude all the time?”
“Wufei?” Catherine ventured, looking at the Chinese. “Are you and Duo–?”
“CATHERINE!” Sally gasped. “That’s none of your business!”
“There’s nothing going on between us!” Wufei declared, rising from his chair, looking totally mortified. Duo looked up at him, frowning slightly. “Trowa just likes to start shit!”
“Even so, I understand things have changed since...since Quatre and Duo have arrived,” Catherine began, looking embarrassed as she looked at Duo, then at a reddening Quatre. “I understand that one would develop interest in their friends, and–!”
“Cathy, this is no time for a sex ed lecture!” Sally interrupted, looking irritated as Wufei hurriedly gathered his plate and utensil and left the table. Duo, his face turning slightly red, disappeared as well.
“I just want to talk to them, Sally. It’s getting to a point where things have to be dealt and addressed, honey,” Catherine hissed at her, pointing at Heero and Quatre. Heero frowned in their direction, leaving the table while Quatre looked intensely uncomfortable. Sally rolled her eyes, slapping her thighs as she looked at her lover.
“It’s none of our business, Cathy,” she ground out.
“But–!”
When Quatre finally left the table, picking up his, Trowa’s and Heero’s plates, Sally sighed and hung her head into her hands, Cathy looking pained as she picked at her food. Sally looked at her once more.
“It’s none of our business, baby,” she said, enunciating each word. “I’m sure, if the boys are interested and are willing to pursue that direction, they can figure things out on their own.”
“Sally, I would just like them to practice safer actions. That’s all. That’s our job, isn’t it? To make sure that they are safe and educated?”
“Yes, but...that subject...well, it’s a little delicate, dear. They’re boys–they’re very proud. Especially Wufei. I notice that there is attraction between them all, but it’s not our place to interfere,” Sally said gently, reaching across the table to hold onto Catherine’s hand. “But if it makes you feel better, we’ll stop somewhere and get proper materials for them. IF needed.”
Catherine looked comforted, and smiled brightly. “Great. We can also get things for ourselves, as well!”
“Yes, sweetie. That we can do.”
Standard Disclaimers Apply: Don’t own Gundam Wing nor X-Men
Notes: Some stuff was changed around, here. I deleted some stuff, added some stuff, so it’s still the long winded, pompous bag that ya’ll are familiar with–just with some differences.
O0o0o0o0o0oO means scene change
Chapter Seven:
Meeting With The Future
Alex hustled quickly through the airport, his roll along suitcase dragging along behind him. Furious blue eyes scanned the mass within Kennedy as he worked his way through the crowd, uncaring of whom and what he did to people as he made his way out. Dressed in the nines, from the overcoat and the wingtip shoes, his personage as one of the more higher classed persons was obvious. Even his blond hair was tousled just so, his bangs sweeping with controlled movement against his pale forehead.
“C’mon, man, I’m starving!” Mueller complained as Alex stopped before the long line of taxis, aiming for a higher classed vehicle. “Starving!”
“Fucking Christ! Can you stop your bloody complaining!” Alex snapped, glancing around at the people that stared at them curiously. He lowered his voice, hissing, “For five fucking minutes, would you stop complaining!”
“I’m fucking starving, Alex! Can you be a little more compassionate about it!” Mueller hissed back, glancing at all of the people that stared his way, frowning slightly. “It’s been nearly two days! My entire body hurts!”
“No! All right? No! Just–fucking shut up and grab that case. We need to meet up with our prospective employer in, like, two hours.”
Mueller grumbled underneath his breath as he grabbed the handle of the suitcase, and lugged it after him. They made their way to a Mercedes, and rapped on the roof. Alex took the case, handing it to the harried driver when he emerged from the vehicle and rounded the hood to meet them. He then opened the door to the back seat. After they were settled on the long bench seat, the driver setting the suitcase within the trunk, Mueller looked at Alex, lifting his hands.
“Look. Look!”
Alex shifted his angry gaze from the window, and looked down at the trembling hands, of which were continuously changing color, the small mouths within the palms opening with silent wails. He pushed them down onto the seat as the driver climbed in.
“Where will it be, sir?” he asked, adjusting the rearview mirror.
Mueller gave him the address, settling back in his seat as the car pulled away from the curb. He looked at Alex, who was tugging at the too tight tie at his collared neck. The man was highly irritated, and while Mueller could understand, his own situation was much more damaging than a few high-strung hours on a plane.
But, sensing Alex’s fury, he decided to tread carefully. The reason for their hasty return to the States had wanted to meet them at a low-key restaurant within a few hours, and Alex was more than ready to meet with the man. But Mueller didn’t know the reason for the visit–he thought they were getting along well in London, which was where they were originally from. Visiting their home had been a pleasant, if not unsatisfying experience.
“Who are we meeting, again? I don’t understand what we’re supposed to be doing here.”
Alex sighed heavily, shaking his head. The trim blond locks fluttered about as he swept a hand through them, feeling Mueller’s agitation on his face as the driver looked back at them within the review mirror.
“He didn’t give his name. Just an address,” Alex replied, eyebrows furrowing with thought. “In the mean time, why don’t you just sit back in your seat and relax a little, all right? Try and concentrate on other things.”
“I don’t feel so good, man. I think...I think we should stop at the condo before–!”
“NO! Look! Keep your cravings under control, all right? You’re making me look bad! You’re always so bad at giving in!” Alex snapped at him, nervous hands reaching into the inside jacket pocket and withdrawing a vibrating cellphone. “Now, shut up! Yeah?”
“Mueller?”
“Alex! ALEX! Damn it, you have the wrong fucking number!!”
“Excuse me...”
Alex sighed, snapping the phone shut and sliding it into his inside jacket pocket. Moments later, Mueller pulled out and answered his cell phone, nervously chewing on his nails as he did so. “This is Mueller...”
“I...I’m sorry sir, terribly sorry. I...had the number of someone else, and when I called, he–”
“Oh, no problem. It happens all the time. What can I do for you, Sylvia?”
“Well, I have your messages. Which you like me to read them?”
“Go ahead.” Mueller began listening to the messages that his secretary had recorded while he was away in England. Alex rolled his eyes and drummed his fingers with much impatience on the door.
Ignoring Mueller’s calm replies to several inquiries from his secretary, Alex stared at the passing scenery outside the window, contemplating New York City. It certainly hadn’t been his favorite city, but it was tolerable, and there were plenty of people around to keep his partner satisfied. Ever since Mueller had his first taste of forbidden satisfaction over a year ago, Alex had tried to be patient with him. He tried reasoning with him and tried to lower his intake. But Mueller, being the weak bastard that he was, couldn’t stop his ever-growing need of taking over various mutants’ energies.
Mueller had been born a parasite mutant–he didn’t have his choice in mutant abilities. Mutants never had their choice of being what they were, and when they discovered their abilities, if wasn’t as if they could be ‘shut off’ or ignored. Mueller had grown to satisfy his need for blood by attacking smaller animals throughout his London estate, and countless pets. He’d learned to curb his cravings and learned to draw out his victims so they didn’t die immediately, but had eventually graduated to humans. There were many kooky humans out there, and Mueller had stumbled upon his first mutant quite upon accident.
It had been a blind date–things had progressed rather quickly and hours after dinner, Alex had learned that Mueller had found a woman that had been into vampiric-like activity, and had discovered his need to feed quite innocently. Mueller had learned that he could get away with his activities if he took tiny bites and tasted quickly. The woman had been a self-healer and hadn’t really noticed. Alex wasn’t into women, but Mueller was. He especially loved the women on the rag for appropriate reasons...
But as such, the woman had finally realized what was going on when she realized that Mueller wasn’t just giving her hickies–she’d quite begged for more, more than turned on by the activity. Of course, one thing led to another and Alex had gotten a frantic phone call from Mueller, who had killed the woman when he hadn’t released her quickly enough. Alex helped Mueller hide the grisly murder and it wasn’t long after that one that Mueller was confessing to how he liked the sensation of mutant ‘energy’. At first, Alex didn’t know what he’d been talking about–Mueller fed off blood, animal and human alike, not energy.
So when Mueller took another mutant, a lonely woman with a mutant capability to create food out of mid-air (how lame was that?), Alex had stepped in to intervene. But Mueller had described the high he’d gotten from killing a mutant, not only feeding off their blood, which was richer and more potent than a normal humans’, but their energy–their mutant energy. Alex was a little more than disgusted at Mueller’s growing reaction to such things, and had noticed that Mueller, needing a ‘hit’ more and more and finding his drug of relief in the various homeless throughout the city, was able to locate mutants simply by recognizing their energy auras. It was quite fascinating, actually–not the killing, of course, but the fact that Mueller could locate mutants simply by their auras.
Now, Alex had been involved with a man that was interested in mutants–not for the same reasons as Mueller, but because the man himself was searching for particular mutants. So, when Alex let the man know what Mueller was able to do, the man had grown interested in his friend. And thus, the tentative relationship between them all–Alex had a basic Fuck-Buddy who used Mueller to locate mutants and in the end, Alex and Mueller were paid finely and the man had his share of mutants at his particular disposal. Mueller had participated only because he was given his own hits in payment–nameless muties that the man had found on the street. Everyone was happy.
Except for Mueller, whose addiction had grown and changed into something hideous. Alex lost his Fuck-Buddy and he was angry, constantly, at the world. The man had been great in bed and Mueller ruined it all because of his stupid weakness. Now and then, the man got a hold of them, but only because he and his partner, who’d requested them today, wanted Mueller to locate a certain mutant for them. Alex was only going along because he needed the money.
Mueller suddenly jerked, his changing hands displaying their vampiric changes with a wild look in Alex’s face, desperate for some form of guidance. Alex merely looked at him in disgust, clenching his fists and bunching them on his lap.
“Your weakness disgusts me, man,” Alex snapped, frowning as Mueller made a helpless shrug and returned to his cell phone.
The driver glanced back at him, eyes clearly displaying his puzzled expression.
Alex saw this, and glared at him.
“WHAT?” he barked, wide blue eyes narrowing with irritated fury.
“Er...nothing, sir. Just...I’ve never seen anyone with that...color hair, before...”
“Mueller? Sir?”
“I’m sorry. My friend’s getting irritated with our driver over nothing,” Mueller assured his secretary, pressing a finger against his other ear in an effort to hear her better. “Go on...”
“Keep your stupid Indian nose out of our business, all right? Did we ask for you to fucking pay attention to what we’re doing, or for you to just drive?” Alex continued, leaning forward in his seat.
“No-no, sir! I’m sorry, sir. Want me to put up the divider?”
“YES! Get your stupid face out of our business!!”
“Mueller, sir? Er...you want me to call back at another time?”
“No, no...well, perhaps. Just save it all until I get back, all right? I’m so sorry, my friend’s a little high strung,” Mueller apologized, shooting Alex a furious glare. After Sylvia confirmed this, she hung up, and Mueller put his cell away. He looked at his shaking hands once more, gesturing at Alex. “Look at this shit. I can’t believe this. This is...ridiculous!”
Alex shoved his hands away, and Mueller slid them underneath his thighs in an effort to keep them from his sight. Nervously, he rocked from side to side, beads of moisture building on his forehead. In irritation, Alex focused on the outside, huffing as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“This is all your fault, you know,” he began, his voice a low growl.
“I couldn’t help it! I just...I just need, need, need...and it ended up out of control.”
“We can’t fix it. No one wants to help mutants. We can’t just walk into a rehab center and get cured! Thanks to you, you’re suffering and delusional. Let’s just hope this guy can help us out, like he said he would. Personally, this little endeavor of yours is going to get me fired from my job.”
“What? But...why?”
“Because of your stupid cravings! It interferes with my life, and it’s fucking everything up!”
“Me? What the hell did I do?”
“Never mind. What messages did Sylvia have to give you?”
“Nothing of interest...”
“Not that I care, but they had to be something of interest.”
“Just the usual. We were discussing the merger with Bronson and Bronson, but that was about it. It’s not even a big-time watercooler topic.”
“That old dick and his dickhead son has nothing valuable for the company. I suggest you don’t even think of accepting it. You’ll only screw up your own chances in promoting yourself to the bigger companies when you hire them. They lost the big multi-billion dollar case with South Korea last year. Remember that? It was only the biggest fuck-up in world business...”
“I know, I know,” Mueller muttered, shifting in his seat. He stared at his hands, careful to keep them where the driver couldn’t see them. Alex stared down at the constantly shifting appendages, and snorted in disgust before turning his attention back to the window, watching New York Bay flitter with the surrounding lights of the city.
O0o0o0o0o0oO
Treize Kushrehnada and Zechs Merquise watched the tall, blond man walk into the restaurant, his light face an expression of fury. Zechs, after thrusting his long, blond hair over one broad shoulder, leaned over to Trieze. With a slight smirk on his handsome face, he recognized his former lover’s agitation and knew that this meeting would do nothing to calm the blond.
“Someone’s a little high strung,” he commented lightly, brushing his long hair from his face. He glanced around the posh restaurant, which was dim with various candle lights and plenty of privacy. The closest table to them was located more than twenty feet away, and that couple looked to be doing more than holding hands on top of the table top. “Should we continue? We could drop out, look for someone else...”
“No. We’ll continue.” Trieze held up a hand, signaling at the blond that began marching in his direction, looking more than a little frazzled. Alex was an average sized man, maybe around five eleven and a hundred and fifty pounds, dressed in terribly expensive clothing that suggested he was more than well off, and looked more than frazzled, his wide blue eyes darting here and there with some turmoil. Trieze had to hide his smirk behind his glass–this was the first time he’d seen Alex before, and Zechs had mentioned in passing that he hadn’t been much to look at. But the man more than fit Treize’s needs, if what Zechs had told him was true.
Usually, Zechs was the one to work with him, and Trieze hadn’t been interested simply because his mind was on other things. But because this subject was considered very important, Treize had decided to come along and see for himself what made this man so special.
Taking a seat opposite them, Alex saw Zechs as the blond stared down at the trembling hands that were currently folding themselves on top of a fidgeting lap.
“How was your flight?” Zechs asked, his voice low and husky, reminding Alex with a painful twist in his gut what he’d missed. Damn Mueller!
“Just dandy. Took a little longer than I like,” Mueller said, giving a slight smile as he looked from Zechs to the other man. The other man was a brunette, his exotic features registering light blue eyes, boyish curls over a pleasing forehead, and curled lips that looked inviting and yet contemptuous all at the same time. Zechs and the man were dressed finely in expensive material, and Mueller had to guess that the other man, the nameless one, was going to be the one issuing the assignment today. He wondered, with a flex of his hands, how soon he was going to be paid.
“I understand you would like to negotiate a little contract?”
“I would like a little more detail on this subject, of course,” Alex interrupted, looking at Zechs, then at Treize. “Who are you?”
Trieze blinked at the abrupt demand, sitting back in his chair.
Zechs smiled, waving at him. “This is my associate, Treize Kushrehnada. He’s the one that will be issuing you your assignment. He is also the man in charge of your payment. You should care to address him more courteously, Alex.”
“I don’t understand what this contract will consist of, and I would like to get the details before we sign on,” Alex said again, crossing his arms over his chest. Then, with an irritated glance at Mueller, frowned. “And if we can make this quick. Thanks to Mueller, we’re currently in a little bind.”
“Let’s make it brief,” Treize said, lifting his flute of wine to his lips, and taking a languid sip. He kept noticing the use of the words ‘we’ and the shifts of glances, the change in pitch and tone whenever the man opened his mouth. Zechs was right–it was a little confusing at first, but he began to understand why Zechs had been so interested in wanting an affair with the man. Assuming that he was speaking to Alex, he said, “I understand you had to make a business trip to London?”
“Yes! It fucking sucked! All right? Let’s get a move on!” Alex was pissed–this man was a looker. Zechs must have dumped him for this lovely creature, and it burned his gourd with defeat.
“I’m really sorry about him, Mr. Kushrehnada,” Mueller apologized, looking flustered as he reached for the silver utensils, fiddling with them. “He’s a little...agitated. Long flight.”
“I see,” Treize muttered, lifting a forked eyebrow, and nodding at Mueller with a smile. He reached into the open briefcase at his side, and withdrew a simple manila folder, which was thick with information that he’d made copies of. “This is our business...”
Trieze pushed the folder forward, and Mueller took it, opening it to reveal a grainy black and white photo. It was of a couple of boys, both of them different nationalities and were dressed similar to each other. It looked as if they didn’t know they were being photographed, and looked in the process of walking. What made the photo strange was the same way they dressed–as if...they were some part of some clandestine group. The other photos consisted of the same boys, but another was added in variation. They all wore the same things–and they all looked oblivious to fact that they were being photographed.
He studied the pictures for several seconds, then stiffened as he found a couple more photos, of two different boys. One was pale and skeletal, and the other was braided and thin. They, too, didn’t know they were being photographed, and looked in the process of hauling groceries home from a namebrand outlet with a woman. Occasionally, they were pictured with a couple or one of the other boys from the previous photos. He shuffled through the other various photos, frowning. For some reason...the much more thinner boys looked eerily familiar, and his mind raced, trying to picture them with names.
He was also confused as to what this assignment meant. It was definitely much more different from the others he’d performed before. Usually, Zechs had him searching for a particular boy in various foster, orphanages and streets. These boys looked as if they belonged to a clean house and nice family. Except, they definitely didn’t look related.
“What...what is this?” he murmured as he paused on a particular photo, studying the features of the blond, then looking at the braided one. They looked so familiar!
“These mutants are our business. They aren’t registered, and all were homeless at one point,” Treize began, swirling the contents in his glass with an interested expression. “They were taken in by kind benefactors and have been within our interest for quite some time. I would like your help in locating these boys. It’s your basic search and locate assignment.”
Alex gave him a disgusted expression, looking at the photos. They were good-looking kids, he had to admit. Shuffling through them, he paused on a particular photo, forehead furrowing as recognition dawned on him.
“As if Mueller needs this agitation, sir. Really. We’ve done much less for much more. What’s the reason behind this story?” he asked on a murmur, setting the other photos aside, his eyes caressing the features of the boy he was looking at. His hands flexed, and he felt an unconscious warmth of lust penetrate his lower belly. The photos really didn’t do him any justice–they either blurred his pretty features or completely washed him out.
Mueller lifted an eyebrow, wondering why Alex was so interested in the photo.
“Their powers are...of interest to us.” Treize looked at Zechs, wondering just how much he should divulge in. Zechs shifted in his seat, resting his chin upon the backs of his hands, his elbows resting on the table. He stared across the table at Alex, who was paying too much attention to a simple photo and not to him.
“And what do you people do?” Alex asked, finally dropping the photo and setting it aside, mind working.
“Alex, be quiet,” Mueller commanded, looking at him angrily.
“What?” Alex looked at him with an annoyed frown. “Wouldn’t you want to know what’s in it for them before taking the damn job? They could be working to sell you out, you stupid bastard!”
Mueller looked at Treize, apologizing with his eyes. In a way, he understood Alex. He’d killed too many mutants to satisfy his bloodlust, and the thought that Treize and Zechs may be setting them up for appropriate effort may be a possibility. “Erm, sorry about this, Mr. Kushrehnada.”
“Don’t be. I understand. Listen, Alex...Mueller. This job will only require the appropriate location of their whereabouts, and perhaps a little more. I assure you...the reward will be worth the results that I get from your work if you succeed.”
“What’s the reward?” Alex asked, lifting an eyebrow as he glanced at the photo once more.
“I would like...a permanent form of sustenance...something that won’t...” Mueller began, fidgeting nervously in his seat, wringing his hands.
“I can cure your...addiction, Mueller.” Treize murmured, lifting both eyebrows with interest.
At this, even Alex looked interested, as Mueller’s blue eyes widened considerably. “Really? How?”
“I...have my ways. Now. Shall we begin negotiating?”
After much detail had been discussed, Alex and Mueller had agreed to Trieze’s contract of the job. The pair then left the table, preparing themselves to commence their operations by tomorrow, after they received appropriate rest from their trip overseas. Trieze shook his head slightly, chuckling with amusement as he looked at his partner.
“Multiple personalities. Interesting. He must make real convenient entertainment on the sidewalks, arguing amongst...er, himself. How in the world did you ever locate this man? Who’s the base personality?”
“Alex is the base personality, but as of lately, Mueller’s more dominate because of his addiction.” Zechs smirked. “Certainly makes things interesting, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, he does. And he’s trustworthy? Excuse me. Are they trustworthy?”
“They’ve worked for you before, Treize. You saw their results. Mueller’s able to locate mutants because of that endearing addiction. Alex is his reason.”
“You and your men, Mr. Merquise. You certainly know how to entertain yourself,” Treize chuckled, finishing off his wine. “I’m sure it was utterly fascinating being in bed with one man and actually sleeping with two.”
“Mueller isn’t into men, Treize. But Alex is.”
Treize looked up when someone approached their table, bringing with them a strong, musky scent of perfume. Zechs looked away from his partner as well, smirking.
The woman bowed slightly, long, blond hair cascading over her shoulder as she lifted the hem of her dress in a slight curtsy.
“Mr. Merquise, Mr. Kushrehnada,” she greeted in a low, husky voice, abnormally formed eyebrows furrowing slightly with mirth. She straightened, brushing her thick hair over her shoulder. “Utterly fascinating to find you here. I thought this section of the city didn’t appeal to you?”
“We had business, Miss Catalonia. Please, sit,” Treize murmured, indicating the chair that Alex/Mueller had left. The young woman did so, her material shifting around her as she did so. Dressed in Versace, the young woman was every inch of her rich background. Her light blue eyes flickered with cold amusement as she faced the two men opposite her. “Care to share what you find so funny?”
“I have performed my job, sir. And I have discovered nothing that may interest you,” she began, demurely lowering her eyes. “The family reveals nothing but a simpering mutant too afraid to evoke his own talent, lest he destroy himself. He possesses nothing of the talent you have searched for.”
Treize looked disappointed, but nodded. Zechs leaned forward, arms on the table. “Dead end?”
“Most certainly.” Dorothy eyed the photos that lay before her, and shuffled through them. With a slight smirk, she used her fingertips to brush them aside, studying the faces captured within. “Yum. They sure grow well, don’t they? Lovely little boys...”
“Mind yourself, Dorothy. If they even sense that you’re spying on them, they won’t hesitate to kill you this time,” Treize chuckled, signaling for a waiter. “The last time you encountered them, Heero barely held back. He was quite furious, I recall.”
“Yes, very,” Dorothy agreed, smiling as she came upon the next pictures. “Mm. They adopted more children? Such a tragedy that Sally and Catherine cannot have one of their own, lest they soil their pure bodies with a man’s touch...they are missing out on delicious things.”
“Dorothy, how would you like another assignment?”
“Keeps idle hands busy, Mr. Kushrehnada. How many I pleasure you?”
“I’ve hired a fascinating creature to locate our mutants. Unfortunately, I don’t think he’s capable of handling himself against Operation: Gundam. He may do well against one, but not against an entire trio. I would like you to accompany him as he goes in search for our mutants. He has his assignment–just accommodate yourself with it,” Treize ordered, lifting his forked eyebrows. “And remember, Miss Catalonia–no more than an hour. They haven’t any telepaths, but you cut it very close the last time you infiltrated. We won’t be so knightly the next time they discover your deception.”
“I’ve learned my lesson, Treize, dear,” Dorothy murmured, touching her flawless cheek as she carefully put the photos away. She rose from her chair, smoothing her dress over her long, slim legs. She curtsied lightly and walked off, long blond hair swept behind her with a flourish.
Treize looked at Zechs. “I love when she does that,” he chuckled.
Zechs merely shook his head and gave an discreet mocking expression. “Only you would get off on being treated as some sort of royalty. That girl worships you.”
“She worships power, Zechs.”
“Which is strange...because you have none.”
Treize merely chuckled and signaled for another glass refill. Such things hadn’t bothered him before.
O0o0o0o0o0oO
Duo was excited–his first night on the job had been fascinating! There wasn’t very much to do, through, and he was bored after the first hour...but he’d found ways to entertain himself. He’d learned that Operation: Gundam, with its fascinating array of justice-serving quality, was just another name for a mutant law enforcement group that operated on its own rules. Their mutant, the one that killed for livers, had eluded them tonight, but then again, New York City and its surrounding friends were large and broad. Their killer had thought to prey on those that ventured stupidly through Central Park and other such areas without any form of protection or company. Most of them were late-night joggers, and the killer had preferred those that were healthy.
Trowa, in bloodhound form, had sniffed and searched his way with the others nearby, but had found no trace of their killer. Heero had gone his separate ways, looking for impossible clues throughout alleyways and abandoned buildings, and Wufei had zipped from place to place, searching out the areas the killer had used to take his/her victims’ livers. He’d searched for clues that would fit his own inquiries and had come up with nothing more than a few hairs and some questionable photographs with a digital camera and a secret visit to the precinct assigned to track the killer.
Duo, meanwhile, having no real idea of what he was supposed to be doing, had merely walked through the park on his own, his hidden communicator buzzing with the activity from the other two as they searched for various things around him. Trowa’s was hidden as a collar on his dog form and hadn’t bothered with any form of communication with the lot of them–but he’d found simple amusement in chasing Duo across the park with a savage snarl of his drooling lips and snapping teeth. Duo hadn’t found it amusing–that guy freaked him out in more ways than one. Sometimes, he couldn’t tell if Trowa was serious or not, but he’d rather not get caught by those snapping teeth.
After that, when the morning sun began peeking over the horizon, they had headed back home. Duo was tired, and a little miffed that he had no real idea on what to do, but he felt satisfied that he’d done something. By the time they’d come into the large Victorian, trampling loudly with no regards to whomever was still asleep, Trowa and Heero were arguing over something regarding breakfast and Wufei was busily fingering his baggies of stolen evidence that he’d taken from the precinct that was assigned to the killer’s actions. Duo, with a tired sigh, tossed his fitting jacket off and threw that aside, on the couch. His feet were sore, and he felt horribly out of shape. He knew that by tonight, he was going to be one walking mass of sore muscle, because he hadn’t performed such activity before.
Wufei had been in charge of getting him into shape, but Trowa had been the one to chase him across the park. Scowling now at the taller boy’s backside, Duo walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. He pulled out sandwich materials and yawned loudly. They sure kept odd hours.
He made himself a peanut butter and banana sandwich, then looked up to see Wufei on the phone, examining a labeled baggie as he sat at the dinner table. Lowering his lashes, Duo studied Wufei–the Chinese was exotic, serious, and the towel in the boys’ activities. He took himself seriously, and he was the first to reprimand anyone that wasn’t doing their job. Duo wondered how someone that good-looking could be so stiff.
Wufei was drawing his eyebrows closer, holding the baggie up in the air so that it caught the light of the morning sun that filtered in through one of the dining room windows. Duo automatically ducked a flying piece of ham and hurried out from the kitchen to avoid the emerging food fight between the other two mutants. Wufei was talking to one of the doctors. By the time he hung up, Heero had Trowa pinned to the floor, and from the sounds of it, a very irritated Walrus was having none of that.
Duo peered into the kitchen with a crazed expression as Wufei sighed, hanging his head.
“QUATRE!!” Wufei shouted in irritation, thrusting the phone aside while Duo turned in his seat to face him. Wufei looked at Duo, holding up the baggie.
“Evidence from the last murder,” he said, examining the baggie. “It’s the killer’s fingernail. Must have been scraped off when he or she had pinned their victim on the ground.”
Duo lifted an eyebrow and gulped his sandwich down. “Ouch. It looks pretty nasty.”
“It’s intact. Fairly clean.” Wufei examined the hardened material. “S, with his powers, can touch it and see who it belongs to.”
Duo licked his fingers, frowning. “What powers do they all have?”
“I–QUATRE!!” Wufei interrupted himself to bellow again as the sounds from the kitchen grew louder, and something crashed to the tile. “Dr J has the power of invention–he’s the one that made us our suits, and our communications units. Everything electronic he can put together with various scraps of material that you can find wherever. G has the power of mind–he can deliver crushing blows to a person, as you witnessed that one night with Quatre. S, you saw. H has the power to create duplicates of himself. And O can use force fields on things, and can be intangible. They’re all possess superior intellects, and that’s missing every time they come over here. They’re five year olds trapped in old bodies.”
“Oh.” Duo picked up the baggie and stared at the nail within. He found himself ducking when he heard the shrill sound of something slicing through the air, and Wufei plucked the flying object out of the air with his speed. Wufei glared at the cutting knife that had been thrown, and set that down on the table.
The nail was short, groomed, and lightly glossy. There was some form of dirty substance within, and the faint inkling of darkness on the tops.
Blood? He thought as Wufei growled in irritation, rising from his seat.
Duo frowned, looking after him and watching with some detached wonder as Trowa flew through the air, slamming through the basement door and disappearing behind the swinging door. Heero’s roar of triumph echoed throughout the house seconds later, and it was immediately silenced with a loud metallic bang. He shifted back in his seat as Wufei and Heero began arguing. Picking up the baggie, Duo frowned at the fingernail. This person...whomever it was...why would they need livers? Unless they were selling them on the black market. Whatever sinister purpose could they be used for?
Trowa walked out from the basement, rubbing his rear. When he saw that Duo was holding up an evidence baggie, he took a chair at the end of the table and rifled through the many others that Wufei had taken as well.
“What’s all this?” he questioned, looking at Duo.
“Stuff from the murder scenes,” Duo answered, setting the back down. “What do you have?”
“Hair...material...stuff taken from under the victim’s fingernails,” Trowa murmured, looking at the labels on the baggies. “S can figure it out.”
“That’s what Wufei said.”
“Well, isn’t he on the ball?” Trowa asked sarcastically, rising from his chair and walking toward the stairway.
Duo rose from his seat, walking into the kitchen to see that Heero was peeling potatoes, and Wufei was preparing to toss strips of bacon into a heating frying pan. Grinning at the thought of food, Duo bounced over to the stovetop, hanging onto Wufei’s shoulder.
“Whatcha cooking?” he asked, inhaling the scent of frying fat.
“I want hash browns. Duo, get out the eggs and start mixing them,” Heero ordered, looking over his shoulder at the long-haired boy.
Duo shrugged and performed what was expected. After several long minutes of frying meat and the scraping of potatoes in a shredder, Duo grew startled at the sound of a phone ringing. Heero abandoned his task and went to answer the cordless, leaving Wufei and Duo alone in the kitchen.
“Well, Duo? What did you think of your first night out?” Wufei asked, looking at him as he flipped the strips of bacon in the pan.
Duo gave a half-scowl. “It was kind of boring.”
“We really didn’t have much to go on,” Wufei admitted. “But we may have better luck, tonight. S and the others are planning to come over and examine the evidence. I need to return them all tonight.”
“Trowa chased me all night.”
“I forgot that it was my assignment to get you in shape. He took over on that task,” Wufei said with a sigh. “Did you do much on the street?”
“Other than looking for food and walking here and there, not really. I never found reason to run. I just teleported.”
“Hm,” Wufei murmured as he finished frying up his bacon. Then, eyeing the amount he’d made, he wondered if he should cook up the rest of the package, and set about doing so. “It’s not that hard. Perhaps a light jog in the morning and evenings, before you go out and before you head to sleep. I’ll run with you–Trowa would probably get you hurt.”
“What’s with that guy, anyway? He’s really creepy, in a way.”
“He and Heero are like that. They’re incapable of feelings, I think. Trowa, most definitely. Catherine and the others think he’s a sociopath. Heero...I don’t know. He doesn’t care on one level, but then again, he tends to surprise us when he does display his emotions. I think I’m the more normal out of them, and that’s not saying very much.”
“I think you’re normal, too,” Duo agreed, smiling at him. “You’re not all psychotic like they are.”
Wufei felt his cheeks heating slightly, and wondered if that had some deeper meaning. He looked over at Duo from over his shoulder, and found the boy smiling brightly at him. With some nervous fluster, he turned and tended to the meat within the pan. Silence descended around them, and Heero walked into the kitchen once more, tending to his hash browns.
“He’s back,” he announced stoically, browning the sides evenly. “The guy that attacked you and Quatre. He’s back from England.”
Wufei looked up from the frying strips of bacon. “Really? Is that some cause for concern?” he asked, frowning.
“It is if he’s working for Treize.”
Wufei froze, frowning as he stared at Heero’s cold expression. “Treize? But...I thought that was over with.”
“Dr J’s informant let the old man know that he and Treize were talking very privately last night. Zechs was with him, as well as...Dorothy.”
Wufei shuddered at the woman’s name, closing his eyes briefly. Duo stared from one to the other curiously. “Guys? What’s that all mean?” he ventured, pausing in mixing the seasoning with the eggs he’d mixed in a bowl.
Heero grunted and turned to resume frying up the hash browns. “Treize is an old adversary of ours, Duo. He’s the doctors’ old acquaintance and helped organize our group. Then, half a dozen years ago, he began this search for all powerful mutants–he wants to destroy the world. Treize loves control. He buys and uses mutants at his disposal, but he’s completely normal. He’s a non-mutant.”
“Why do you think he’s working for Treize?” Wufei asked quietly. “There must be something special about that man. Duo, do you think you can tell us anything else about what happened that night?”
“I told you all that I know, man,” Duo said with a shake of his head. “Ask Quat. He’s the one the guy tried to kill.”
“Heero, ask him about it. If Treize is siding with that man, then perhaps we should raise some concern with the doctors over Duo and Quatre,” Wufei said, frowning in his partner’s direction. “If that mutant had had a taste of our companion, what if he comes after him?”
Heero grunted, finishing up the hash browns. “I’ll talk to him.”
“What kind of mutants work for this Treize guy?” Duo asked curiously, taking his spot at the stove as Heero abandoned his section, tossing his cooked food onto a paper towel and soaking up the grease that oozed from the shredded strands.
“There’s about six in all, but they all vary,” Wufei said. “Treize hires them out mainly as mercenaries. They all have lives and jobs on the side, but when he needs one, he goes and recruits them. He has a mutant working for him, this man named Zechs Merquise, and he’s basically Treize’s first lieutenant of sorts. He’s the one working the mutants while Treize gives out orders from a safe location. The doctors would really like Treize to be ‘put away’ because his ambitions can get truly horrifying at times. He’s willing to kill both mutant and human to get into a position that can dominate the world. Sometimes, though, the notion’s truly ridiculous. He can’t achieve that goal without an army. But there are some people that would be willing to follow him if persuaded.”
Duo snorted as Heero left the kitchen. “I can believe that. Humans hate mutants, and vice versa.”
“Yes. But if enough people follow Treize’s ideals, then something’s incredibly wrong,” Wufei said, nodding with a serious frown as he finished his job and dumped the crackling heated oil into an old food can that sat on the stove for such a purpose.
Duo began cooking the eggs he’d mixed and frowned as he prodded at it with his spatula. He sighed, looking over at the Chinese as he carefully blotted grease from the brown pieces of bacon. Blushing slightly, because he thought that Wufei was certainly very attractive and Duo was feeling pretty attracted to him, he focused on his eggs and tried not to think about how Wufei’s smell made him feel.
O0o0o0o0o0oO:
At breakfast, Duo happily ate up all that he had on his plate, scraping everything together enthusiastically, mixing it all with ketchup. The red substance had to be the greatest invention to man’s palate, because it truly made everything awesome. He finished licking his lips, looking at everyone else at the table–Wufei in particular. The Chinese was taking his time in eating, cutting everything just so and chewing with slow, calculated bites. Heero was demolishing a serving platter’s worth of food, Trowa had made a mountain of lumpy, miscolored food that looked totally inedible, Quatre was fiddling with his share with a slight, distrustful expression, and the women were picking through their share, conversing softly to each other on the events for today.
Duo himself was sleepy–his eyelids fluttered as he found himself pausing to take a drink of his orange juice. Wufei looked tired as well, Trowa openly yawning and stretching, and Heero taking long moments to blink. Seeing that everyone was going to bed after they ate, Duo figured that a good day’s worth of sleep would help him feel better before they met with the old men tonight. He shifted his attention from his empty plate to Sally and Catherine.
“What are you guys going to do today?” he asked, interrupting them.
“We need groceries,” Sally said on a sigh, turning to him. “We’ll probably head over to Costco and load up once more.”
“I can give you a list of what we’ll need,” Wufei said, looking in their direction. He gave Duo a frown when Duo opened his mouth to give his opinion. “What we really need is nutritional food, not junk.”
“And ketchup! Lots of it!” Duo added, frowning at the loss of junk food.
“I see,” Catherine murmured, looking at the red streaks that decorated Duo’s plate. “We’ll add ketchup to the list.”
“Do you boys need anything for your bathroom or anything?” Sally asked. “Shampoo? Toothpaste?”
“We could use some of that,” Heero spoke up from his end of the table. “Especially body deodorant. Trowa’s funk is spreading into the bedroom.”
“Only you would be jealous of my manly scent,” Trowa piped up, looking at him from between Wufei and Catherine.
“Why would I be–?”
“OF COURSE, Heero,” Sally interrupted the insults with a rise of her voice. “Anything else? Toilet paper? Cleaner?”
“Maybe some body lotion, Sally,” Wufei said, indicating his arms. “We’re running out.”
“Well, if you and Duo would just fuck already, you wouldn’t be using it to jack off so much,” Trowa muttered while Wufei’s face turned bright red, and Catherine uttered a shocked sound, fork clattering to her plate. Duo looked mortified, blinking continuously as Trowa pushed back from the table.
“All done! Can I go, mommy?”
“I DO NOT!” Wufei shouted after him, Trowa’s stiff laughter carrying out from the living room. Wufei looked at Duo, and turned purple as Duo looked at him with an unreadable expression.
Sally sighed, dropping her fork onto the plate. “Can’t we just have good little boys that aren’t so vulgar and rude all the time?”
“Wufei?” Catherine ventured, looking at the Chinese. “Are you and Duo–?”
“CATHERINE!” Sally gasped. “That’s none of your business!”
“There’s nothing going on between us!” Wufei declared, rising from his chair, looking totally mortified. Duo looked up at him, frowning slightly. “Trowa just likes to start shit!”
“Even so, I understand things have changed since...since Quatre and Duo have arrived,” Catherine began, looking embarrassed as she looked at Duo, then at a reddening Quatre. “I understand that one would develop interest in their friends, and–!”
“Cathy, this is no time for a sex ed lecture!” Sally interrupted, looking irritated as Wufei hurriedly gathered his plate and utensil and left the table. Duo, his face turning slightly red, disappeared as well.
“I just want to talk to them, Sally. It’s getting to a point where things have to be dealt and addressed, honey,” Catherine hissed at her, pointing at Heero and Quatre. Heero frowned in their direction, leaving the table while Quatre looked intensely uncomfortable. Sally rolled her eyes, slapping her thighs as she looked at her lover.
“It’s none of our business, Cathy,” she ground out.
“But–!”
When Quatre finally left the table, picking up his, Trowa’s and Heero’s plates, Sally sighed and hung her head into her hands, Cathy looking pained as she picked at her food. Sally looked at her once more.
“It’s none of our business, baby,” she said, enunciating each word. “I’m sure, if the boys are interested and are willing to pursue that direction, they can figure things out on their own.”
“Sally, I would just like them to practice safer actions. That’s all. That’s our job, isn’t it? To make sure that they are safe and educated?”
“Yes, but...that subject...well, it’s a little delicate, dear. They’re boys–they’re very proud. Especially Wufei. I notice that there is attraction between them all, but it’s not our place to interfere,” Sally said gently, reaching across the table to hold onto Catherine’s hand. “But if it makes you feel better, we’ll stop somewhere and get proper materials for them. IF needed.”
Catherine looked comforted, and smiled brightly. “Great. We can also get things for ourselves, as well!”
“Yes, sweetie. That we can do.”