Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Wash My Hair ❯ Senor Duo es la Muerte! Soy la Maid-ee-o! ( Chapter 4 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Chapter Four: Senor Duo es la Muerte! Soy la Maid-ee-o!

I picked Wufei up at his place at exactly 0633. Hey, he said that I couldn't be fifteen, five, or one minute late. He didn't say a damned thing about being three minutes late. How a man could get so pissed off about three minutes is beyond me. It's not like we were going to arrive late. Hell, we'd be there an hour early so he'd have plenty of time to seat himself in the break room to watch Zechsy-babe's grand entrance. What? Hey, he does it every friggin day. Wufei is so in the closet it's not even funny. Anyway, his daily dose of Zechs ogling gives me plenty of time to tack up several of today's Zechsy pics around the office and then hide the peace day resist aunts--Z-boy on the beach in a black speedo and a smile--somewhere in today's lot of paperwork. He always keeps the racier pics. He pretends to shred them and stuffs them into his briefcase to take home. Hey, I'm not too ashamed to pick a lock. Not that I can blame him. Zechs is sex on the hoof. Not quite as hot as Heero, but I don't mind a little office eye candy in the least.

Speaking of office eye candy. "Good morning, Duo."

"Heya Zechs."

Zechs tossed a disc onto my desk and looked at the floor. "Same deal."

I smirked. "You bet."

He turned a funny shade of red, which was odd. He never blushed on me before. "I, er, got a little adventurous last night. Please be discrete."

"I promise."

"Thanks."

I waited until the door shut and then had the disc in the drive before you could say chocolate. And oh my fucking God. A little adventurous? A little? I grinned. This was going to be good. Tomorrow. After I had some time on a computer that the sysadmin guys weren't constantly trying to bug into. Freaks. I didn't think they'd get past my security (network this, bitch!), but you can never be too careful and I certainly didn't want these pictures of ol' Zechsy to get out anywhere but to their intended recipient. Who was charging down the hallway toward the office as we speak.

I barely had the disc tucked away in my bag before the door slammed open and Wufei stalked inside. If you've ever met someone in dire--we're talking declare a state of emergency, it's a national disaster dire--need of getting laid, then you've met Wufei. His blue balls have him so paranoid that his conspiracy theories have mated and spawned litters of little, baby conspiracy theories. I smiled at him. Sweetly. Hey, you work with what you've got.

"What have you done this time, Maxwell?" he demanded, storming directly to our corkboard to glower at the two artfully arranged pictures of Zechs I've put up this morning. He yanked them down, shook them at me with this expression on his face that kinda made him seem like he was pleased to be constipated, then ran them through the shredder. "I am immune to this foolishness. You are wasting your time with this idiotic notion of yours. Moreover are dishonoring Merquise. He is a fine man and a great Preventer."

Ri-i-i-i-ight. Betcha twenty creds that when I crack his briefcase this afternoon, Zechs in his Speedo is in it. Not only that, but safely tucked away in archival quality wax paper and a manila folder so it couldn't possibly be harmed.

"What, no whoopee cushion today? Feeling ill, Maxwell?" He seated himself comfortably on his chair, settled his coffee cup down, and reached for his files. Time to make tracks.

"Nope, I'll wait until you quit checking every time you sit down to use it again." I stood up and picked up my coffee cup. "You want anything while I'm up?"

"No."

"Jeez, you try to be nice to a guy."

He grunted. "I could do with less of your so-called kindness and more of your work."

Yeah, yeah, broken record. I killed about thirty minutes shooting the bull in the break room and stopping off at Une's place to reassure her that Wufei and I really were getting along fine, isn't it too bad that he can't take a joke. Thirty minutes should have been long enough to spend some quality time with Zechs and his cute little speedoes, then hide the evidence. One of these days, I'm calling in sick and bugging Wufei's place. I just gotta know what he's doing with those pictures.

"Great news, Wu!" I crowed as I flung open the door, just so he'd be sure to have enough warning to hide the goods from me. "Une says we're still partners! Isn't that great? We should go to lunch and celebrate or something. They got a new Hawaiian place down on Fourth with a fake beach and everything. We could bring Zechs along." I leered at him, for good measure.

Wufei turned ninety shades of red before turning bright purple. "I have disposed of that, that, that picture you planted." In your briefcase so you can add it to your fan shrine at home. "I will thank you to stop immediately!" You'd break down and cry if I did, Wufei, my hard up, horny man.

"Sure. I'm out of pictures. Mind if I start up again tomorrow? I got some good ones!"

He bared his teeth and growled at me, but you could tell he was pleased with the news. His eyes were smiling at me. No shit. Wufei loves me, you know. I grinned back at him, just so he understood that I knew it was all an act on his part and he snarled in Mandarin. I picked out a few words here and there so his cussing must have gotten really esoteric today. He's seriously cute when he's pretending to be all pissed off at me, not as cute as Heero, `cause, let's just face it, no one is as cute as Heero, but still pretty cute.

Work was, as usual, dull. Sure, we have to do our research first and then kick bad guy ass once we figured at a) the best way to do it, and b) if it's really a bad guy, and c) I need a trim, look at those split ends. Maybe I should look into some new condi--

"Maxwell! Playing with your hair is not working!"

I shook my braid at him and gave him my best Heero-glower. "I got split ends! It's an emergency!" That's what I love about Wufei, he can always tell when I'm getting a bit stressed and is kind enough to give me something to do about it. While I'd really rather have a back massage and a latte--chocolate sprinkles and whipped cream please!--yelling works, too.

"The state of your hair is not an emergency, it's a nuisance. You should cut it off."

Ooooh. Wu was so gonna get it. I surged to my feet. "And maybe you should get laid so you'll get off my ass!"

The office door creaked open and a few of our fellow agents stood there. One of them had popcorn. I shit you not.

Wufei was on his feet now, all red in the face. A red faced Wufei who was flaming pissed off really isn't as cute as a normal color faced Wufei who was flaming pissed off. "Perhaps you should look into therapy for your addiction to sex, that is, if you were actually getting any!"

The guy standing next to the popcorn chick scribbled on his yellow pad, then held it up. 7.3 from the judges. Isn't it great to see how much entertainment we provide for our fellow agents?

"At least I'm saving myself for the guy I love and not because I'm so far in the closet that the only thing keeping me company is my shrine to my dream guy!"

Yellow pad guy gave me a 7.1. Curses.

"No doubt Yuy left because he couldn't tolerate you anymore than I can!"

Oooh, low blow. Only a 6.9, but still a low blow. Two days ago, it might even have hurt.

"No doubt Yuy left because he got sick of hard-up-and-horny Chang metaphorically humping his ass!"

Yellow pad guy gave me a 7.6. Yes! Score and Maxwell takes the lead!

"If it makes you feel better to think so. Considering that Yuy could barely stand to give you the time of day when you were constantly humping his leg, it's not surprising that you'd prefer to blame me!"

Yellow pad guy looked a little puzzled by that one, but gave Wufei a pity 7.4.

"Don't think I didn't notice that you couldn't take your eyes off my ass while I was doing it, either!"

I got an 8.3 for that and a thumbs up from popcorn girl.

"I was not looking at your, your backside!"

And Maxwell wins! Whoo! "Right, and I don't suppose that wasn't your hand on my dick in Kyoto?"

Wufei turned neon pink. "That was an accident, Maxwell!"

"And you sure took your damned sweet time letting go."

"I did nothing of the sort!"

"You know you popped wood. Still beat off thinking about it, Fei? What might have been if you'd just hung on a bit longer? Hmmm?"

His mouth worked like a landed fish and his pink went to a bloody looking red. He growled something in Mandarin that reflected rather poorly on my ancestry and its relation to sewer rats while I smirked. He stabbed a few buttons on his computer and the printer whirred. Moments later, he brandished the print out at me, then signed it, then shook it at me again. I rolled my eyes.

"Don't you people have work to do?" Wufei roared at the door. Our audience dispersed like street rats when the store alarm goes off. He stomped through the door and down the hallway.

I stuck my head out the door, caught sight of a white blond head loitering by Une's office and smirked. Ooh, you are such a bad boy, Duo. "Hey, Wufei! Don't forget to ask Zechsy-pooh for blowjob! It'll do ya a world of good!"

Wufei froze, every muscle in his body spasming rigidly. Down the hall, Zechs somehow managed to keep a straight face, though he did turn a funky color. Wufei whirled to face me. "Omae o korosu!"

"Ooh, baby, turn me--oh shit!" I slammed the door and locked it before he could get there.

"Maxwell! I'm going to kill you!" He was beating on the door now. His keys were in here then. Score!

"You know you love me, baby!" I settled into my chair, kicked back, and smirked. The vidphone went off and I clicked it over. "Yo, you got Maxwell."

"Maxwell! You are dead! Do you understand? Dead! If you are lucky it will only take two weeks!" Wufei bellowed.

Trowa, on screen, blinked. "Duo?"

"I had no idea you were into S & M, Wu-baby!" I grinned at Tro. "Hey, Tro, what's up?"

"Is Wufei threatening to kill you?"

"Maxwell!" Geez, the windows were rattling now.

"Wu, darling, I'm not into the leather scene. Go ask Zechs!"

"Aaargh!"

Trowa blinked again. "Is this a bad time?"

"Nah, it's okay. Wufei's just getting his morning rant out of the way. He loves me."

"I see."

Crrrack. Damn. He's awful pissed if he broke the lock again. Wufei slammed the door open and stomped to my desk. His new partner request was a mangled snot rag by now and he was breathing like a rhino about to charge.

I ignored him. "Whatcha need, Tro?"

"I'm going shopping and I wanted a little bit of fashion advice."

I smiled. "You've come to the right place! Maxwell's House of Style at your service! Hey, Wu, you mind, man? Don't you have work to do or something?"

"One of these days, Maxwell," Wufei snarled, "I am going to get you alone and strangle you with your braid."

"I love you, too, snookums. So, Tro, is this a total wardrobe make over or just an outfit for a night out or what?"

You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say Trowa was smirking. "A total wardrobe makeover."

"Bout damned time. That turtleneck of yours went out with the dinosaurs."

"It's for a friend of mine."

"Oh. Well, I don't know what I can do to help."

He was smirking! "Just a few suggestions that we can take to the experts. He's trying to get the Dream Sex Kitten look."

Uh.... "Uh…."

"Close your mouth, Duo."

"Did you say Dream Sex Kitten?"

"What do Dream Sex Kittens wear?"

I glared at him. "Who is your friend?"

The smirk grew.

"Maxwell!" Wufei roared from over at his desk. He was holding a Zechs in sweatpants, no shirt, and leather half-gloves, dripping with sweat and rippling chest muscles pic. Damn, I put that one in his desk weeks ago. I woulda thought he'da found that sooner. "This is not amusing! You are a sick, demented individual and I highly recommend you seek psychiatric help immediately because I'm going to murder you in the next five minutes!"

"Oh c'mon, Wu. You gotta admit Zechsy looks damn hot all half naked and sweaty like that. Maybe he could use a spotter." You know I had to throw in a leer.

"Duo, you didn't," Trowa said. One of his lions was growling in the background. Huh. Trowa's phone is in his trailer which isn't where his lions are.

"I am going to cut your testicles off and shove them down your throat then I will strangle you," Wufei bellowed conversationally. Only Wu, I tell ya.

Trowa was abruptly shoved out of the way and Heero's face filled the screen. "Tell Chang that if he harms you, I will rip his spine out."

I've never seen Wufei's face contort quite like that before. It looked like someone hit him with a fish and then stuffed chocolate cake in his shorts. "Y-Yuy?" He shook himself. "Is that Yuy?"

"Tell him, Duo," Heero growled, just like one of Tro's lions might.

"Jeez, `Ro. I told you that Wufei adores the hell out of me! He'd never hurt me on purpose. He just likes to yell a lot to blow off steam and I like to help out my friends."

Heero glowered. "That did not sound like blowing off steam."

"We've been working together for months and months and he threatens to kill me at least five times a day. He'd get all constipated and depressed and shit if I didn't tease him `cause then he'd have no reason to yell, ya know?"

Wufei slid around my desk and glared at the vidphone. "Yuy? Where have you been? Are you staying with Barton? What is that thing around your neck?"

Heero turned a dull shade of red and tugged at the collar. "Fashion statement."

Wufei frowned. "You should not permit Maxwell to have any say in your wardrobe choices. You will look like an idiot."

I rolled my eyes. I didn't pick the collar out. "Says the man who wore white pajamas through the war."

Heero frowned.

Wufei waved a hand. "If you must ask someone for fashion tips, ask Winner or Merquise. Both of them have enough sense to dress a man appropriately."

Heero's frown deepened back into a glare. "I happen to want to be Duo's Dream Sex Kitten."

Oh dear God. He knew. I did the only sensible thing a man could do in a situation like that. I hid under my desk.

Wufei took the opportunity to fall into my vacated chair. "You're joking."

"No. Duo? Get back where I can see you."

He knew.

"Duo isn't here!" I yelled. "He died and you missed his funeral!"

"Duo," Heero growled.

Wufei snorted this high pitched little giggly snort. I was gonna kill him. We could go to hell in a handbasket together. "No habla Standard! Senor Duo es la muerte! Soy la maid-ee-o!"

"This was a bad idea, Trowa," Heero growled. Wufei did his giggly snort thing again.

"I have no idea what a Dream Sex Kitten wears, Heero. Wufei? Do you know?" And didn't bang boy just have to enjoy the hell out of my humiliation while he was at it. "Duo, your Spanish is awful."

"Duo?" Heero was apparently ignoring the other two. "Duo?"

"He's hiding under his desk, Yuy. His embarrassment appears to be of the mortal variety," Wufei said, sounding utterly amused. He bent over to peer under the desk. I hid my face in my arms and wondered if I could just please die right now, thanks so much. "It doesn't appear as if he intends to come out any time soon. Shall I take a message?"

"No. I'll be there in half hour, Chang. Get me in. Yuy out."

Wufei stuck his smirking face under the desk. "You do realize that I'm not above blackmailing you, do you not? Good. I'll just be heading down to arrange a visitors pass for your Dream Sex Kitten." Wufei stood, smirking like the god damned bastard that he is. "If we can convince him to join Preventers, do you think Commander Une will approve of Agent Dream Sex Kitten?"

I groaned and squeezed my eyes shut. This was not happening.

It was happening. Twenty minutes later, a still cackling Chinese asshole ushered Heero into our shared office with Trowa trailing behind. Gee, all we needed was Quat and we'd be a full house. I squeezed further under the desk.

"Duo, come out of there," Heero requested. Okay, ordered, but I can make it be a request if I want. And I can pretend to not be there if I want, too. "Master, please."

Was it just me or was Heero once again the only human in earshot that was still breathing?

"Yuy?" Wufei asked faintly. "Did you just say...?"

Heero ignored him in favor of scooting as much of himself under my desk as he could fit with me. We were kind of big to be under there and, well, we weren't fifteen anymore. My back was kinking up like a bitch in a skin-tight, black latex corset with a whip.

"Master?" Okay, bad analogy. Well, at least he was whispering.

"Please don't call me that."

"Barton, did Yuy just call Maxwell master?" Wufei demanded hotly.

"It wasn't my intent to embarrass you," Heero said quietly. "Are you angry?"

"No, I'm not mad. Just really embarrassed."

There was a creak above us. Trowa sitting on my desk because Wufei would never do anything so slovenly. "It's good to see you as well, Wufei," Trowa said. Give it up, the Wuster can't take a hint to save his life.

Heero stared at my braid. "I required assistance and Trowa was the logical choice."

"Huh?" I blinked at him. Stupidly. Like a cow or something.

"Pay attention, Barton. Did Yuy just call Maxwell his master?" Wufei was still huffy. The man needed an enema. Since there was nothing but silence, Trowa had apparently decided that he'd contributed to the conversation about as much as he intended to.

"I did not want to embarrass you by telling Trowa and Wufei about your dreams about me, but I required Trowa's help, so he needed to know."

I glowered at my braid, too. "Trowa already knew about it. We had a mission once and we had to share a really small bed and let's just say things got really, really sticky and leave it at that."

He gaped at me. Sort of. Well, if I'd've had that kind of expression my jaw would be all in my lap and my eyes would be all wide and stupid looking. He just looked...cute. And sexy. "Trowa hasn't had any missions since the--how long have you been dreaming about me?"

"You were pretty much the subject of my first wet dream," I muttered.

"I didn't hear you, Master."

"He did!" Wufei yelped. "He called Maxwell master!"

I decided to ignore that for now. I had Wufei's up and coming six-pack of shut-the-hell-up in my briefcase on a disc that had Zechs being a little adventurous. Rowr. Speaking of rowr. "My first wet dream was about you and it hasn't changed since. I had my first wet dream on the first night we stayed together in that first stupid school. Does that answer your question?"

Apparently it did because Heero looked inordinately--shut up, I do too know big words--pleased with himself. The bastard. "I remember that. Your moaning woke me up and I asked if you were sick. You said it was something you ate." He glared. "I thought you never lied."

I smirked. "And I didn't. You have no idea how good you tasted in my dreams."

He smirked back. "You can have the real thing any time you want, Master."

Shya right. I smiled at him. "I told you, Heero, I'll never ever take advantage of you like that. I want you to know that you can trust me."

Someone sniggered. It sounded suspiciously like Trowa. Heero shook his head. "I already trust you."

God, that hurt so much because I knew it wasn't real. Slaves didn't have a choice. "I know you think you do now, Heero."

He sighed. "You're a complete baka."

"Gee, thanks."

"Duo, it's not--"

The door crashed open, rather loudly. "Yuy? I was told that you were in here. Hello, Barton. I've been meaning to speak with you." Commander Une. Speak of a chick in a black latex corset with a whip and guess who shows up. "Where is Maxwell? He's supposed to be working."

"I am working!" I yelled. "I'm having a private consultation."

You know Trowa had to be smirking again. Wufei snorted. "Is that what they're calling it these days, Maxwell?"

"It's better than what you're calling it, Wufei."

"Maxwell? What are you doing under your desk?" Une demanded. Crack that whip. "Come out of there. Where is Yuy?"

Heero shut his eyes and ground his teeth together.

"Duo works here," Trowa said. It kinda sounded like he was picking at his fingernails with a knife. Or maybe playing with a staple gun. "He spends at least half of his week, or more, here."

Heero's eyes popped open and he got this calculating look on his face.

"That's a stupid reason to join up," I hissed. "You should join up because it's what you want."

"I know what I want," Heero growled, "and you're not cooperating."

I stuck my tongue out at him. He rubbed it with his finger, then swung out from under the desk and stood. Okay, that was weird. And funny tasting.

"Yuy, if I could have a few moments of your time, I'd like to speak with you in my office," Une said.

I peeked over the top of my desk, past Tro's comfily plopped ass. Holy shit, Une was smiling. Run for the hills folks. Find your bomb shelters. The apocalypse has begun. I peeked up at Heero. He didn't seem terribly impressed. Well hell. I decided that I'd had enough of the idiot thing and sat in my chair like a normal person might. I grinned briefly at the room at large, then cracked open my file on the bad guys again. Speaking of which.

"Hey, Tro, while you're out shopping with Heero, could you pick me up some of your conditioner? I'd like my hair to be lustrous, yet perky, too."

"Long hair doesn't do perky, Duo," Trowa said.

"We can exchange hair care tips later, Barton, Maxwell has work to do," Wufei said.

"If you'd like, after we speak, Agent Maxwell can give you a tour of our facilities," Une put in helpfully. Wufei glowered at his desk.

"I'll hold you to that," Heero said in that hey look, I'm a laptop! voice of his. I hate that voice. If hanging with Une keeps him in that voice, I might just have to kneecap her. Okay, maybe vandalize her car with shaving cream after sabotaging the security so she won't know I did it, but the principle is the same. "Duo, I'll be back shortly. Don't go anywhere."

"What if I have to pee?"

"You can go, but come right back here."

I arched an eyebrow. It took me months of practice to be able to do that. "I thought the leash went the other way."

"That only works when you're around to hold it."

"Yeah, yeah."

The instant after the door closed behind Une and the Silent Twins, Wufei dropped his pen and stared at me. "What is with this master business?"

Like I was gonna tell him. "I'm pretty sure Zechs knows how it's done so don't feel the need to ask my advice."

He didn't even rise to the bait. Bastard. "Why is Yuy calling you master? Is this some sort of joke?"

"I'm not gonna talk about it, so quit asking."

"Something to hide?"

I fixed him with a flat stare. Hey, I can do non-verbal communication, too, ya know. "Have some respect for Heero. If he wants to tell you about it, he will. Otherwise, I'm not saying a damned thing."

"I suppose there is a first time for everything."

I glared at him, one of those mean ol' Shinigami is gonna getcha glares. Yeah, he kinda laughed at it, too. Anyway. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You couldn't shut up if your life depended on it," he said in his dry, it's amusing but kind of cute voice.

"So? I happen to like talking. It keeps the lines of communications clear and prevents misunderstandings."

Wufei shook his head. "If that was true, I would not find pictures of Merquise in this office every morning and you would not be bellowing sexual harassment regarding Merquise throughout the building."

I smiled at him. "It's just that what you say when you're drunk as shit and that stick has fallen out of your ass is a lot more true than what you're saying when you're pretending to be the perfect son."

He glared. Woah. I managed to get a 9.3 glare all on my own. "I have a duty to my Clan and I will not dishonor them with this nonsense, Maxwell."

It always came back to that with him didn't it? I rolled my eyes. "You know that Quat's got twenty-nine sisters, right?"

He gave me his and what has that got to do with anything? look. You know, he's really good at that look.

"C'mon, Chang, work with me here. Put two and two together and get four."

"If you'd bother to put your thoughts together in a linear fashion, it would be possible to apply linear mathematical concepts to them."

"If you got something to say, man, just say it."

He looked all disgusted now, but it wasn't his real disgusted face, just his I'm pretending to be disgusted face because he had that twinkle in his eye. He's got eyes that are so dark they're almost black so he can pull off that twinkle thing really well. Quat can twinkle, too, but that's only because he's already all sparkly like a big, cuddly, sea green teddy bear holding a frag grenade. What? You piss Quatre off and tell me I'm lying.

"Gah, be that way, Wu. What I'm saying is that test tube babies happen, you know? Most people on L4 are seriously MacDuff."

He blinked at me, then did it again. "MacDuff? L4 is an Arabic colony, not a Gaelic one."

I blinked at him like he was stupid or something. You'd think Wu, of all people, would pick up on a literary reference. "You know, MacDuff. Not of woman born. Are you sick or something?"

"You're quoting Shakespeare? Who are you and what have you done with Duo Maxwell?"

"Hardy fucking har har. My point is that it's only nonsense if you make it that way. You can do your duty to your clan and still have the love of your life." I beamed at him.

He didn't beam back. He just shook his head and went back to writing.

"So, is it the fact that I'm right or is it the fact that I'm right that's got the stick in your ass tied up in knots?"

"Maxwell." He put his pen down, slowly, doing his whole see, this is me being patient with you act. "To borrow a phrase, butt out."

I reclined in my chair--note to self: WD-40 the damned thing--and considered him carefully. "You know, if I thought you really meant that, I would."

He glared again, only a 5.4. Am I sensing a little bit of relief here or what? "What would it take to convince you?"

I grinned. "Get drunk off your ass with me and tell me the same thing."

He arched an eyebrow. I bet he had to practice for months to do it, too. "If I do this, then you will cease and desist with your ridiculous match making attempts?"

"You've got my word on it."

"Say the words, Maxwell."

Asshole. I rolled my eyes and cross my arms over my chest, huffing in indignation. "Have I ever lied to you?"

He grinned at me with a lot of teeth, like a shark or an attack dog might. It sure didn't look real friendly. "I have your word on it, but not what it might be. I am not stupid, Maxwell."

"Don't trust me. Fine, I see how you are."

"The words, Maxwell."

"Fine. I promise that if you get drunk off your ass, not just a little bit either, and tell me that you really don't want Zechs Merquise, the blonde sex god of the Preventers and beyond, while you are drunk off your ass, from your own personal mouth and not a recording either, I will stop any and all match making attempts."

He frowned, then nodded. "Agreed."

I grinned and glomped him, just because I knew it would annoy him to no end.

"Maxwell, get off!"

"No! You're gonna get plastered with me! This is going to be so much fun! We're going to need an impartial observer and I know just who to ask!"

He tried to shove me off of his lap, but I'm pretty good at glomping Wu when he doesn't want to be glomped. I held on and blew a raspberry against his cheek.

"Maxwell!"

"Duo?"

Wow. Heero and Wu in two part harmony. And with my name, too.

I looked up to see Heero, Trowa, and Une standing in the doorway and me with my arm wrapped around Wufei's neck, sitting in his lap, who was still trying to shove me off. "Yo, `Fei, you might want to let go of that before you make me all happy to see you, if you know what I mean."

Wufei turned ten shades of sheet white and squealed. Like Relena does when she sees spiders, mice, or me. Which can be loads of fun, but isn't really relevant at the moment.

"You're busy," Heero said faintly. Trowa looked both amused and chagrined, though he wasn't exactly having an expression. I would love to know how he does that.

"Maxwell, I will tolerate a lack of decorum from you to a point. Fraternization with Chang in uniform during duty hours goes well beyond that point. Save it for your personal time." Who knew Une had a sense of humor? Wufei was doing a damned fine impression of a blushing, stuttering lobster trying to scuttle out from under me and she was so laughing it up. You could see it in her eyes and the fact that she was actually smirking.

Heero glared at me, a serious kind of a glare that didn't make me feel much like smiling like his glares usually did. "You said that you weren't involved with anyone."

"I'm n--Heero!"

It was too late; he was gone.