Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ VIVA ❯ 10: Flourishes, medieval style ( Chapter 9 )

10: Flourishes, Medieval style

Heero Yuy's eyes flung wide, his nostrils flared and his fists curled his pillow around his ears, all in reflex as his mind struggled from sleep and tried to process what was happening. What had a moment before been a perfectly nice and quiet morning at the Wing College of the Arts had somehow turned into a cacophony. And Heero Yuy knew why.

Tossing aside his blankets, Heero grabbed the small pile at his bedside and marched out the door, kicking Trowa's door on his way past, unsure whether to be grouchy and cold, as he usually was in the morning, or to remain on his high from the performance at rock night the previous evening. It was not a simple decision, and subsequently he was able to ponder it all the way to the showers.

Not five minutes into his shower someone kicked on his stall door and slammed the opening of the cubicle beside his with the flat of a palm.

"What the hell was that for?" Trowa shouted over the sound of the spray.

"You were awake anyway!" Heero snapped back.

"You don't know that!"

"Do you seriously expect me to believe you slept through Standish, Une and whatever that strange wailing was?"

There was a long silence from Trowa's side of the cubicle wall and Heero smiled smugly to himself. He had known Trowa was awake; they had probably both awoken the moment Standish put his horn to his lips.

"That was an interesting piece last night."

"I wrote it for Quatre," Trowa replied hesitantly and Heero could hear the blush in his voice. Trowa Barton blushing. What was the world coming to?

"If you changed it to 12/8 time and let Hilde take the head for the bridge…" Heero suggested, already hearing the adjustments in his head.

Trowa's head suddenly appeared over the shower head. Heero dropped his soap and glared but Trowa was looking past him, at the damn door, or rather through the door at nothing as he considered it.

"What if we use the dancer's voice as an ostinato underneath it all, with you playing the fifth above?"

Heero's first reaction was fury that Trowa would even consider giving his part away, but when he pushed aside his innate desire to be the best it was a good idea, and it didn't actually detract from his own role in the piece. The singer would be adding to his performance.

"It could work." Could. Not would.

Trowa grinned and his head disappeared back onto his own side of the shower wall. Heero sighed in relief, grabbed his soap, tossed it in its dish and dove for his towel. Just in time. For the second time that morning someone stuck their head over the shower wall. The other shower wall. And this head was definitely not male.

"Morning sex-kitten."

"Dorothy," Heero growled under his breath, glaring for all he was worth.

"Oh come on, I think you enjoyed that a little too much, don't you agree? I mean, that lean, hard body pressed up against the wall, shoulders resting on the ledge, arms dangling down as lush green eyes stared off into space instead of at…" She grinned. Heero could only describe it as feral.

"I don't think I was the one doing the enjoying."

"Oh I never said I didn't get anything out of it. But then…we have more in common than either of us care to admit, right, sex-kitten?"

Glaring and wondering if it was possible to actually glare a hole through a person, Heero didn't bother dressing, tightening the towel about his waist and heading for the stairs to return to his room, but not before hearing Dorothy blow him a kiss as she told him to meet them for breakfast. Breakfast. As if he wasn't humiliated enough he had yet to face the whole music dorm after last night. Had he really blown that braided moron a kiss? He wished he could blame it on the heat of the moment, on the rush of performing! But that would be…not quite right.

It was as he was dressing that Heero decided God had it in for him today. Or rather, it was while he was dressing, listening to the blaring trumpet that drifted up from two stories below to the accompaniment of little stones being flung against his window with perfect accuracy, that Heero made that specific conclusion. Sighing like a wronged man, Heero pulled his shirt on, stuck his finger up at the person he knew was watching the window and grabbed his guitar as he stalked out of the room and down the hall.

"Chang tossing stones at your window again?" Trowa asked innocently enough when Heero reached the cafeteria line, but there was a twinkle in thost green eyes that told Heero his friend knew exactly what had been happening.

"I think Po's having a bad effect on him," Heero replied calmly.

"Oh, I think its more likely Wufei will have a foul effect on her…" Trowa winked but refused to explain his comment any further as he piled eight pieces of toast onto his plate and walked off. Heero watched the small tower wind its way through the crowd and wondered how anyone even fit that much bread in their stomach first thing in the morning. Then all thoughts fled his mind as something glomped him from behind, nearly knocking him into the milk bowl.

"Relena." He didn't even have to turn around.

"Morning Heero, I gotcha something."

Unsure even now if he wanted to turn, Heero nonetheless turned to face his long-time friend only to find a bright, shiny object hovering before his eyes. When he took a step back, he realized it was an Easter egg…So it was that time of year again.

"Hn."

"Oh, come on Heero! I know we don't pay much attention to the religious holidays anymore, but who can honestly pass up a day to give chocolate out?"

Heero could, but he doubted that was really what Relena wanted to hear and refrained from giving his opinion.

"Easter is months away."

"Technically yes, it's in April or something, but the cook's decided that since they missed Christmas, and no one was really religious around here anyway, they would have Easter now."

As if that made any sense! Luckily, Heero was saved from having to say anything as Quatre walked up behind Relena, looked over her shoulder at the small object and grinned.

"Pretty girl gives pretty boy a chocolate…who could ask for anything better?"

Heero studied the small blonde and decided he knew one thing Quatre at the very least would find more appealing. And then he realized Quatre had called him `pretty'. He would have objected to the term if Quatre hadn't chosen that moment to look over his shoulder and see the anti-foods bet jar almost full, something new oozing in a tray at its side, the cooks grinning like loons.

"What is it?"

Hesitantly, the three made their way to the counter. Relena dared to pick up the spoon and poke it, but when the slimy brown mush made an odd squelching sound she dropped it and tucked herself behind Heero as if it would bite. Quatre likewise seemed to think Heero would be the best shield…

"What is it?"

Heero reached out and grabbed the collar of the boy he knew the voice had come from, pulling him closer and making sure that nose was mere inches from the slightly off smell.

"It's your breakfast," Heero replied, deadpan. Standish squealed and wriggled free of Heero's grip. "Or you could promise not to play trumpet before 6am."

"What are you gonna do if I don't, Yuy? Blow me a kiss?" Heer just put his face an inch closer to the concoction. Standish scowled, but made the promise. Heero was just glad the morning wasn't a total rite-off as he turned to go to their usual table.

"What are you doing?" Heero watched Quatre place a hundred credits in the jar, unsure of the small blonde had lost his mind.

"Duo will eat it," Quatre replied, as if this explained everything. If it was true, Heero realized, Quatre had just purposely given the newest member of their band a hundred creds…that was insane, right? On purpose!

They were just getting settled at the table when a loud commotion at the door announced the arrival of Dorothy and Hilde. Everyone was cheering Hilde, congratulating her on the performance and trying to find out how she had managed that triadic run in the opening phrases. Heero grinned to see it; he had, after all, taught Hilde that particular trick.

"Move along little weasels," Dorothy yelled loudly, pushing their fans out of the way and grabbing a tray of food from one of the cooks who had seen them enter. How Dorothy had convinced the cooks to put her food aside whenever she was late, Heero would dearly like to know. He needed leverage where that woman was concerned.

Hilde slumped down beside Trowa at the table and Relena promptly reached over and thunked a chocolate egg in front of her. Hilde stared at it a moment, mind trying to process what it was, before she squealed and launched herself over the table to thank her friend. Heero sighed and wondered if there was a mentally deranged gene in girls. Then, of course, he realized Dorothy hadn't come over yet and his eyes were scanning the crowd suspiciously.

Heero spotted her in front of the blown gunk at the anti-foods jar. He was grinning like a feral cat, eyes on the door where, Heero noted, Wufei had just appeared, a very bedraggled looking Duo Maxwell at his side.

"Maxwell!" Dorothy bellowed over the din and cobalt eyes blearily searched the cafeteria for its source. No need, as the cooks hurried around the counter, grabbed hold of an arm each, and hauled the small singer around through the kitchen to Dorothy's side. Wufei was left to fight his way over.

Heero watched, somewhat amused, as they piled a plate with the brown mush and pushed it into slender hands, that face still not really comprehending what was going on. Apparently their new singer was not a morning person. Not that any of them were, they had merely been subjected to Standish for too long.

When they arrived at the table, Dorothy somehow managed to arrange it so that Duo was seated directly across from Heero, giving the guitarist the best view of what was to happen. Heero wondered what Dorothy had planned now, but decided he would find out in good time, and that even then he would probably decide it was too soon to know, and let it drop.

"Eat up Duo, the pot's full!" Quatre chirped happily from Trowa's far side. Hilde, sitting sandwiched between Trowa and Duo looked ready to puke as she studied the late.

"That's gross…"

"You know, if you cut open someone's stomach and filled it with that, then stitched them back together…"

The entire table blanched as they looked up at Sally, who was studying the substance with interest from over Duo's shoulder.

"Onna, what are you doing here?" Wufei's voice snapped, but it lacked the usual disdain, which Heero found extremely interesting.

"We are supposed to go see Howard in ten minutes, remember?"

"In a minute," Wufei replied, eyes fastened on Duo as a pale hand reached out and lifted the fork. Even Heero found his eyes glued to the hand in fascination as the fork dipped into the slop of the plate, lifted a substantial amount and went higher, depositing it into a small, pink mouth.

Eyes went wide, watered slightly, a mouth chewed reflexively, swallowed, looked down at the plate as the other hand reached out, grabbed a glass of juice and skulled half of it. Heero wanted to laugh, and might have if the fork hadn't dipped down, filled again, and headed back to the mouth. Another gulp of juice, another mouthful, and with each small portion the face came more alive, the body moved faster, the eyes woke…Heero was fascinated.

And the inevitable happened. The plate was empty. Duo looked up at the cooks grinning behind Heero.

"That…is…interesting. What is it?"

"Mammi," one of the cooks replied. "A traditional Finnish Easter dish."

Duo nodded. "I don't like it." His face was slightly pale. "I don't like it at all."

And yet, Heero noted, he had eaten the whole plate. What was with this idiot?

Quatre suddenly slammed the jar down in front of Duo and those eyes smiled wearily. Heero was not overly surprised it had something to do with the money. He could probably have brought a new guitar with the money in that jar.

And yet, Heero also saw the eyes catch sight of the hundred credits sitting on top, saw them swivel toward the violinist and frown. Heero thought that was very interesting.

*

Wufei let Sally knock on the door, somewhat amused by how excited she was as Howard yelled confirmation that he was indeed in his office and that they could enter. At least, Wufei assumed that was what the `Yowee' meant. It was, at times, a little hard to tell.

Howard was seated…somewhere behind the highest wall of paperwork Wufei had ever seen. It was indeed a wall, some ten piles wide and tall enough that only the very top of Howard's balding head was visible. Wufei barely restrained his laughter. Sally didn't.

"You find this funny Miss. Po? I think I could arrange to show you a modern day torture that would work to both our benefits…" Howard grinned as Sally quickly quieted.

"I take it you two are here to know what Dermail thought of that little stunt in the theatre cafeteria last week?"

They decided it was best to wait in silence and let Howard do the talking.

"He wasn't impressed…However, he found your protest interesting, even a little valid. As such, you've been given an hour at the end of year concert, to do whatever you want."

An hour…Wufei wasn't sure he knew how to gape, but he was giving it a damn good try. Sally, it seemed, knew exactly how to do it, and she did it with a certain flair, managing to glomp Howard even as she continued to gape. It was a quite fascinating set of actions truth be told.

"May I ask what you two are planning to do with an hour?"

It was enough to snap them out of their daze and Wufei and Sally faced Howard with matching mischievous masks that promised torture and mayhem in the weeks to come. Wufei didn't think Howard looked all that phased. In fact, the old man seemed to be looking forward to it. That, in itself, was almost scary…

A knock at the door was answered with another bellowed `yowee' that had Sally and Wufei cringing and wondering if their was a decibel meter anywhere in Howard's office. Wufei was slightly startled when Duo Maxwell skipped through the door, bag slung lazily over one shoulder, dance shoes on the other and a microphone dangling from one hand.

"Ah, you're late."

"Sorry."

Wufei's brows raised to hear that word so easily escape those lips. It had taken Heero quite a lot to get the same.

"If you'll excuse us," Howard nodded to Sally and Wufei as he pushed past, pushing Duo out the door as they left the office. Wufei could do little but watch them go with a mixture of amusement and intrigue. What was a dance/vocal major doing with the head of music and theatre history?

Wufei managed to leap out the door before the pair disappeared around a corner.

"Duo, the EO has rehearsal in the woodwind's orchestral space at 6pm!"

"I'll be there!"

And then they were gone, leaving Wufei with none other than Sally Po, all by their lonesome. Growling in agitation, Wufei headed for Treize's classroom, Sally chattering in his ear the whole way as he dreamt up torture's he could inflict upon her.

They entered the classroom to be faced with a giant pile of painted boxes that looked somewhat like a robot and Treize at its feet holding a sword.

"I challenge you, Chang Wufei, to a duel!"

Wufei looked from the plastic sword, to the pile of boxes, played Treize's way over-dramatized voice over once more in his head, and promptly grabbed another plastic sword from the props rack on the wall. Perhaps today would not be complete torture after all.