Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ Behind Enemy Lines ❯ Preparation ( Chapter 16 )

Behind Enemy Lines

By: rainjewel

Chapter Fifteen: Preparation

A/N: First off, I would like to dedicate this lovely chapter to the equally lovely Zika_Silver1. She is the reason this story continues along on its merry little way. As a bit of a warning you must pardon me, for the only wedding ceremony I know is an American Christian fanfare of sorts. I apologize for not being a culture-savvy chica. Please forgive me for my ignorance!

~*~

Slowly, laboriously, and very reluctantly Dilandau opened his eyes. It was quite possibly the hardest thing he had ever done. He was lying in the hospital wing of the capitol building. He hated this room; it didn't have any windows. The clock on the wall said 3:17 a.m.

He'd had the strangest dream. He couldn't remember it very well, but it had to do with a fog made of stone and a boy with wings. The funny thing was that the boy had called him "Angel."

As Dilandau tried to clear his mind, a strident shrieking sound filled the room. He squeezed his eyes shut as pain throbbed through his sore head.

"Shh!" said a voice. "Do you want to wake him ?"

"I'm sorry," replied another voice, this one deeper, "I'm nervous."

Dilandau recognized the voices, but fumbled with the names. After a moment he gave up. Whoever they were, he just hoped they stayed quiet. He felt like going back to sleep.

Suddenly a soft and airy sound broke through air. It sounded like a whistle, but gentler, like a flute. It trembled through air as it played a soothing melody. Dilandau recognized it as a tune from Egzardia, a country known for its beautiful highland music.

Beautiful or not, he wanted to sleep. He was just about to yell at the musician when the song stopped.

"That was amazing," whispered a voice. Dilandau finally placed it: Cedric.

"Thanks," said the flautist. This one was a Dragonslayer as well; his name was Rosh.

Another few notes played through the air.

"Shut up!" Dilandau yelled.

The air went deathly still. Dilandau opened his eyes again, this time finding it much easier than before. Through slightly blurred vision he saw the two figures of his Dragonslayers. Neither had on his armor, and Rosh's long black hair was unkempt and flowing down his shoulders. He held the flute an inch away from his lips.

"Sir!" Cedric said. "Are you alright?"

The lights were bright. Dilandau groaned and covered his eyes with an arm. "No. What time is it?"

"3:47 in the morning. Would you like me to play for you some more, sir?" Rosh asked, his accent thick.

"Cedric," Dilandau said, "Tell me that I did not allow a flute player into the Dragonslayers."

"Uh…I…"

"No Dilandau-sama," cut in Rosh, "You didn't."

Dilandau lifted his arm. The flute was gone. He smiled. "I like that Rosh. Now both of you get out of my sight. I don't need to be babysat."

"Sir?" said the boys in unison.

Dilandau scowled. "Don't make me repeat myself. Send in the nurse while you're at it."

"Yes, sir!" said Cedric and Rosh. The two rose and left. Dilandau saw a slender wooden flute tucked under the latter boy's arm. He closed his eyes and waited for the nurse.

He didn't have to wait long. Within a minute or two he heard the soft padding of the woman's footsteps.

"Dilandau-sama?" asked a small timid voice. Dilandau opened his eyes and looked at the nurse. He was surprised-she was a small dark little waif-like thing. He didn't even know people could be that frail.

"You're the nurse?" he asked, checking.

"Yes, sir," said the child, trembling. "You asked for me?"

"What's the diagnosis?" he asked. "And be quick."

The waif stopped shaking. "You suffer from a semi-serious concussion, a few cracked ribs, and a rather nasty cut on your left shoulder. Other than that you numerous scratches and bruises."

"I suffer from nothing. When will I be back on my feet?" Dilandau said.

"Two weeks, minimum," said the nurse.

"One," Dilandau amended. "Who else was brought in here?"

"No one, sir," said the nurse.

Dilandau blinked. "I find that hard to believe but not improbable. What's your name?"

"My name?" said the girl, startled. Dilandau gave her a dark look. "Oh, sorry, Dilandau-sama. My name is Noel."

"Interesting. Goodbye Noel, you won't see me again," he said. Dilandau sat up and immediately wished he hadn't. His chest ached with pain and his head swam, but he let none of this show. Instead he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up.

And then sat back down on the bed.

"Are you all right, sir?" asked Noel. She made a move to assist him, but was too afraid to follow through.

Dilandau waited a second until his head cleared. Then he stood up again, waited for the world to stop spinning, and then answered her: "I'm fine."

"Dilandau-sama, I…you mustn't leave! Your condition is very serious," Noel pleaded.

"Do not tell me what to do," Dilandau said, ignoring her concern. "I would leave now, if I were you."

Looking pale, Noel curtsied (an annoying and outdated practice) and left the room. Dilandau took a few deep breaths.

"Two weeks, my ass," he muttered. He began a tottery but determined trek to his rooms. Why was the sick bay on the far end of the Dragonslayers' barracks?

Halfway through he stopped for a second and he couldn't remember where he was. Why was he in this hallway? What was he doing? Dilandau felt a more than a little panicked, but held his ground and shook his head a few times. This didn't do anything except make him feel incredibly nauseous, but after a moment his wits returned to him and he continued.

As he closed the door to his room and locked it, he collapsed on his bed. He knew that his condition was serious. Jeez, he'd just had a room fall on his head. But he wasn't about to let some idiotic quack take care of him. He'd had many years of medical training and knew how to take care of most problems.

Dilandau was not going to let anyone take care of him. He took care of people (in one way or another).

Besides, in two weeks who knew what Van would be doing?

~*~

Merle walked through the halls in a daze. It was hard to keep focused on where she was going, so she simply trudged onward, seeing and hearing nothing.

Hitomi had said yes.

Merle had waited for her heart to drop when she heard that word, but it hadn't happened. Then room had gotten very quiet, and she had silently left her position by the door.

It was strange; she didn't feel as sad and upset as she thought she would have. She supposed it was because she already knew that Van would choose Hitomi. He'd never even thought of her as an option. Merle knew that she would forever be his little sister and nothing more.

How clear it was to her now.

"Merle, could you come here?" Celena's voice cut through the darkness.

Merle stopped. She was surprised that the girl had known she was walking through the halls; her paws never made a sound.

"Celena, this isn't a good time. It's 4:00 in the morning," Merle said, looking towards the partially open door that led to Celena's room. The faint scent of roses wafted through the opening.

"Please? Dilandau's really hurt," the girl replied. She sounded weak.

"Good," Merle replied. Then she realized what the implications of that were She bounded into Celena's room. The girl was lying on her bed with an arm covering her eyes. She was wearing sparring clothing that looked too big for her.

"What's wrong? Are you all right?" Merle asked, stepping closer.

"It hurts to breathe," Celena replied. "It scares me."

"Oh, don't be scared," Merle said. "Nothing can hurt you. What can I do to help?"

"I don't know," Celena said. She lifted her arm and looked at the ceiling.

Merle sat down on the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry. Do you want an ice pack? Or perhaps a hot water bottle?"

Celena laughed, then groaned. "Those things are totally different."

"He should take better care of himself," Merle said.

"He will. He had training in the army," Celena said.

"Well then you should feel better in no time," Merle said. "I think the best thing to do for the moment would be to go to sleep. I'm sure you'll feel better in the morning."

"I think," Celena swallowed thickly as pain washed over her, "You will too." Merle frowned.

"What?" she asked.

"You have tearstains on your face. I hope you feel better tomorrow," Celena said.

Merle smiled. She loved this girl. "Thank you. I feel better already."

"Good. And don't be upset with Dilandau…he can't help it," Celena replied, closing her eyes.

"Can't help it? What?" she asked

Celena breathed in deeply. "I just thought you should know."

"Know what?" Merle whispered, leaning in closely.

"You know," Celena whispered, waving her hand to disregard Merle's question, "I miss him."

Merle didn't know what to say to that. Dilandau had been undoubtedly the most destructive thing she'd ever laid eyes on and she hated him for that. Actually, it was hate derived from jealousy. Dilandau had waltzed (or rather, "pounded") his way into Van's life and her king had accepted him readily. She didn't understand it. Van used to be so cold to other people; so abrasive. He was only the warm caring person when he was around her. It was as if he was saving the best of his personality for her. Now he shared it with everybody. Including psychotic maniacs, which only hurt him.

"I'm sorry," Merle said lamely.

"He's hurting and I'm not there," Celena continued. She sat up with her face in her hands. A tear spilled through her fingers.

Merle slipped her arm around the girl's shoulders. "Shh. I'm sure he'll be fine."

"I'm not so sure this time," Celena said. "He doesn't remember me. He doesn't let me in."

"What do you mean?" Merle asked. This girl was getting weirder all the time.

"If I think about it, I can talk to him without saying anything. He never acts like he knows what's going on, but I know he does. He feels it," Celena explained.

"Really?" Merle was a little doubtful.

Celena moved her hands away from her face and hugged her chest. "Yes."

"I'm sure Dilandau still remembers you," Merle whispered in Celena's ear. "I'm even sure he still loves you. He just does it in his own…way."

She was going to say "twisted way," but decided against it.

"Like how Van loves you?" Celena asked.

Merle froze, then nodded. "Yes, the way Van loves me."

"Then he'll remember," Celena said.

Merle, though a little stunned, found herself wishing Dilandau would remember. Celena wiped her face and gently lay back down on the bed. Merle mechanically tucked her in.

Celena grabbed Merle's hand as she turned to go. "Will you stay with me tonight?"

Merle paused. "Yes."

"Thank you," Celena said, sighing. Merle hopped up on the bed and curled cat-style at the bottom of the bed.

"No," she whispered, just as Celena was falling asleep. "Thank you."

~*~

Never in his life had Van thought that there were so many details to a wedding. For crying out loud, what the hell was going on here? Flowers, dresses, ushers, a Matron of Honor, and a Best Man? And then there was that annoying little girl who carried around a basket of flower petals and tossed them all over the hall, making a grand mess of things. Not to mention the boy who carried the ring. First of all, Van didn't even understand the meaning of the rings, but now he had to place a highly valuable item in the hands of a six-year-old boy?

Insanity. Utter and total insanity.

"Nonsense," said Hitomi upon hearing Van's grievances. She had been fluttering around the hall for the past two days ordering this, arranging that, and making him feel dizzy.

But she was happy, and that's really what counted.

Merle had agreed to be her Matron of Honor and Celena (along with Van's reluctant female advisors Verdi and Rachel) were going to have the role of bridesmaids, whatever those were. He was still in search of a Best Man. Undoubtedly the role would eventually go to Natsu. The lout could just stand there and look important (he was good at that).

Everything was going to take place in a week.

Hitomi didn't like to take her time. She'd already picked out her wedding dress (or it was being made, sewed, fitted, whatever). All he really knew was that he couldn't see it until the wedding, which was quite possibly the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard of in his life. Who would want to be surprised on their wedding day? He didn't wasn't even allowed to know what color it was. He had said she would look lovely in green, but Hitomi had given him the oddest look…

Anyway, life was grand. He had announced the engagement to the country two days ago, and since then the people had been rejoicing like you wouldn't believe. There was dancing, games, and celebrations all the time. Van was worried that over half of the kingdom was drunk.

Couldn't he just have gotten privately married to her and skipped this "wedding" nonsense?

"Oh Vaaaaan!" Hitomi's voice broke through his thoughts. He was standing in Folken's bedroom, being fitted for…a…what was it called? Oh, a tuxedo (what an idiotic contraption. What was wrong with a clean shirt and pants? Perhaps he could put on some ceremonial armor).

"Yes?" he answered, craning his neck to see. The tailor squeaked and told him to stop moving. Van ignored him.

Hitomi popped her head in. "Darling, do you think we should have all roses at the wedding? Celena said that would be delightful and she'd help with everything. I don't know though, I kind of like daisies and lilies. Daisies are so nice and friendly. Roses are such…heavy flowers and lilies are simply elegant looking. What do you think?"

Van thought frantically to try and remember what the difference was between a daisy and a lily.

Finally he gave up and said, "How about we just go without the flowers?"

Hitomi grinned. "You're so silly. Now come on, what do you really think?"

"I like tulips," Van offered, copping out of the situation. He knew two different kinds of flowers, and those were tulips and roses. His mother had liked tulips. So had Folken. Van knew that tulips had fewer petals then roses.

"Tulips are romantic as well! You're brilliant!" Hitomi stepped inside and kissed him lightly. The tailor made another squeaking noise and Van felt a pin stick deep into his side.

"Glad to help. Tell Celena I hope she's feeling better!" he called out to Hitomi as she flitted out the door.

Hitomi's voice came floating back. "I will!"

Van looked down at his tailor. "Are you almost done?"

"Don't be pushy," said the tailor. "You're the one who had to have this outrageous outfit."

Van rolled his eyes. "Tell me, did you ever have to go through with this?"

"No. You're the one with the girl from the Mystic Moon who has all these weird customs. All I had to do was say, 'Hey, will you be my wife?' and she said yes, and it was over and done with until we divorced two and half months after it," the tailor said. He stuck another pin into Van's waist.

"Good grief," said Van. This was not looking promising.

Later that night Hitomi sneaked into his room. She came in quietly but still managed to wake him up. As she slipped under the covers he pretended to be asleep for her benefit.

That is, of course, until she began tickling him.

"Hey!" he said. "If you're going to sneak in my bedroom and wake me up you could at least have the decency not to tickle me."

Hitomi smiled and hugged him, resting her head on his chest. "I'm sorry, oh grumpy one."

"I'm not grumpy," Van mumbled.

"I know," Hitomi said. She began tracing circles on his bare shoulder. "Are you sure you're okay with all these wedding plans? I know you don't like them-"

"I like them," Van interrupted, "I just don't understand them. There's a difference."

"Oh." Hitomi was quiet for a while. Van looked out the window towards the moons and thought of Ruhm. Perhaps he could be his Best Man. Then again, Ruhm would probably think him an idiot for getting married in the first place.

"You know, everything's so different now," Hitomi said. Her breath was warm on his skin.

"What do you mean?" Van asked.

"When we first met everything was incredibly dramatic. There was never a day when something historic or epic was taking place," Hitomi said. "I kind of miss it."

Van frowned. "I don't. I like waking up and not thinking that this could easily by my last day on Gaea."

"Last day on Gaea," Hitomi echoed. She slid up so that she was eye to eye with him. "Do you think that I can stay here forever? Do you think Fate will let me?"

"I thought you didn't believe in Fate," Van pointed out. A sense of foreboding rumbled in his stomach.

"I have my doubts sometimes. I think there's a possibility of your life being pre-planned. Perhaps there is a purpose you have on the planet. You're supposed to change this, have an effect on that. For instance, maybe you're destined for one person and one person only. Fate has made you a perfect match," Hitomi said.

"And this means…" Van tried to see the point.

"Think of the power! How many billions of years, and billions of people that are long since dead, still alive, or not born yet? Anyone of them could be your match. I think that if you are lucky enough to find that person, than nothing can separate you," Hitomi said. She paused. "I believe that you are my perfect match, Van. And if that's so, then I'll be able to stay forever. I guess I just…I just want to say…"

Van knew what was coming. And he wasn't going to like it.

So he stopped it in the most effective way possible. He leaned over and kissed Hitomi hard, almost bruising her lips.

Don't say you love me. I can't say it back. Not in the way you want.

And for a quick second, a vision of Folken flitted through his mind. He was in full Strategos garb, and pressed against his sides were two pretty catgirls, hugging him as if their life depended on it. Suddenly Van understood it all.

"Shh…" he said. "Let's not talk about Fate or anything linked to that. I don't want to take any risks."

It was halfway true. Yes, it was a purposeful misinterpretation, but he really did not want to mess with Fate. She was a temperamental thing.

"I…" Hitomi looked a little disappointed, then smoothed out her face, "I suppose you're right."

"Of course I am," Van replied with forced offhandedness. Gently he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "Now unless you want to spark some major gossip-mongering, I suggest you get your pretty little self back to bed."

Hitomi grinned. "It sounds like you're trying to get rid of me."

I am.

"No, I just know that you have a very full couple of days and so do I. And unlike you, I desperately need my beauty sleep," he said. Gods, it was so much easier to be humorous now. He'd never been this funny in his life. Now jokes and good-humor seemed to fall from his lips like rain.

"Alright," Hitomi sighed. She kissed his forehead and gracefully rose from the bed. Tossing him a look over her shoulder she said, "Sweet dreams Van."

"Same to you," he replied, already closing his eyes. In a detached yet still painful manner, he wondered what Dilandau was doing now.

~*~

"I've been summoned?" Dilandau asked of the young pageboy in front of him.

"Uh…yes, Dilandau-sama. His Majesty would like to speak with you," said the scared boy.

I'll bet he does.

"Whatever," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. He shut the door in the page's face. The boy had had the most unruly mop of black hair. It reminded him of-

"DAMN IT!"

I am not going to think about him! Dilandau stalked over to his bathroom and turned on the water to ice cold. He splashed his face with some of the refreshing liquid. He smiled as he felt the gash on his left shoulder stretch; the pain took his mind off of other things. He raised a hand and gently pressed down on the white bandage where the wound lay beneath. His grin widened as the pristine gauze was soiled in crimson.

A monster's blood, he thought, feeling more wicked than usual. I wonder what Van's blood would look like. What color does an angel bleed?

"DAMN IT!"

Dilandau ripped his hand away from the bandage. Where had that thought come from? Van an angel? My ass.

Frowning and breathing deeply, Dilandau walked over to a chair where his jacket hung, carelessly thrown there out of laziness from the previous night. He shrugged it on, ignoring the discomfort of his cracked ribs. Absently he ran a finger down his right cheek and stepped out of the door.

This had to stop. He could not keep thinking this…this…shit, he thought. Dilandau gritted his teeth. He'd never felt so unsettled in his life. No matter what he was doing, where he was, or whom he was talking too, the image of a dark-eyed king kept creeping into his mind. Those mahogany irises haunted him, and what scare-annoyed Dilandau was how they held no malice; there wasn't any hate to be seen in Van's gaze.

His daydreams were becoming increasingly weird-there was one where he was standing in the middle of a garden, bow in hand, aiming at a tall dark-haired man. He'd shoot, nailing his target. When he'd move to claim his prize, he'd look down and realize he was in a dress. What the hell? And then there was that one about riding through the forest, the pressure of someone's arms around his waist. He couldn't remember who was…wait, what did remembering have anything to do with it?

Goddamn dream. What had that little angel thing meant anyway? What was he supposed to remember? Why the hell was he even concerned with all of this?

Dilandau growled in the back of his throat. Banishing all unnecessary thoughts, he pushed through the doors that led to he throne room. With unconcealed reluctance he bowed before Adelphos. As usual, he rose before being recognized. He could have sworn he saw one of the Madoushi smile from the shadows. For unexplainable reasons he felt very off-centered at the action.

I need to get out of here for awhile. Maybe I'll go…away. Far away.

"Oh, good to see you Dilandau," Adelphos said. He looked superior and smug beyond words.

"Likewise," Dilandau said, his sarcasm dripping from each letter.

"How are your injuries?"

"Gone," he lied. "Let's cut the crap. What do you want?"

Adelphos shifted uncomfortably. "I have concerns regarding your…uh...training of the Dragonslayers. I wasn't aware that the destruction of entire training halls was necessary in preparation for warfare."

"War is chaotic. I want my soldiers trained for any situation," Dilandau replied with a smirk.

"If that is necessary, then I wonder at what kind of battles you're going to be engaging in. From now on, Dilandau, I don't want any Zaibach facilities damaged to such an extent," Adelphos said.

Dilandau seethed. Damned bastard was getting downright cocky.

"I was given permission to train my regiment in any way I see fit," Dilandau replied. Adelphos opened his mouth to say something but the silver-haired captain pressed on. "But, since this training 'requires' the inevitable destruction of Zaibach property, I will make adjustments and solve the problem that will keep us both satisfied."

"What do you mean?" Adelphos had gone from smug to suspicious.

"While the training hall is being rebuilt, I plan on taking my Dragonslayers on a camping trip. I am going to take all my men into the outskirts of Zaibach, far away from civilization and the restrictions that come with it. There I will teach them every survival technique known to man," Dilandau said.

Adelphos opened his mouth again, then shut it. It was obvious he was desperately trying to come up with an excuse to keep Dilandau in the capitol. The pale young man smirked; the emperor wasn't going to win this one. Time to secure the deal.

"Emperor Adelphos, my men are all from the city. None of them have ever experienced the brutality of the outdoors. You know how big a weakness this is. My men are sheltered. I will not have coddled soldiers. If you want Dragonslayers, ones worthy and capable of warfare and protection of the throne, then they must have this training. Your Highness, do you understand my point?"

Adelphos blinked rapidly. "Y-yes."

"Then I have your permission?" Dilandau said. He tried to keep from gloating.

"Yes," Adelphos said. He was defeated and he knew it. One of the Madoushi hissed.

"Good," Dilandau said. He turned and left the throne room. He marched quickly in the direction of the simulator room. Time to tell the boys about their little adventure.

~*~

Van awoke on the morning of his wedding day with a sick feeling in his stomach. Argh…jitters. Hate the little buggers. Feeling slightly weak, he walked over to his bathroom and splashed water on his face. He poked his head out of the door and checked the time-it was 8:00 a.m. He still had two hours before the ceremony. Foregoing breakfast, he popped his toothbrush in his mouth and scrubbed at his teeth until he thought enamel was bleeding.

Apathy, he decided, was a good word for how he was feeling. Hopefully that was normal…he didn't know; he'd never been married before.

Slowly he discarded his clothing and shuffled over to the shower. He rubbed his disgruntled stomach and turned on the water. He stepped into the tub, slipping past the curtain. He felt the warm water hit his face, his view on the world dreamlike.

The sick feeling in his stomach grew to a sting, and his eyes began to itch.

Overwhelming, that's a good word too.

Van sat down in the corner of the tub and hid his face in his hands.

~*~

Leitken was not pleased. For three days he'd been running around in the unforgiving Fanelian forest, and he'd eaten…well, not much. Dilandau hadn't allowed the Dragonslayers to bring any supplies with them except for their armor, swords, and water caskets. Their commander would leave them in the morning to do whatever violent psychotic geniuses do during the day, and come back to see how they'd done at about 7:00 at night. Then he'd proceed to teach them actual survival techniques.

Needless to say, Leitken hadn't been doing very well. Rabbits had proven to be smart, calculating creatures that he'd majorly underestimated. Luckily Leitken was a scholarly individual. He'd been running around for the past couple of days munching on whatever edible plants he could find. However, the indigestion most of the weeds and whatnot gave him was severe enough to be lethal.

Today he was trying fishing-with his sword. There was a small pond a half a mile from camp. So far he'd managed to catch a lot of algae and completely drench his body.

Leitken heaved a heavy sigh. What was really annoying about this entire business was that the fish seemed to know that he couldn't catch them, and kept swimming around him, their little scaled bodies gliding around his legs and rubbing his toes. He closed one eye, stuck his tongue out in concentration, and took aim.

"What in the hell are you doing?"

Leitken whirled around at the sound of his commander's voice. "Fishing, sir."

Dilandau stood before him, his armor replaced with a hooded black cloak. The pale young man snorted. He waded up to Leitken and looked down at the fish. Suddenly his arm shot out into the water.

Dilandau stood and held up a silvery fish. "Remember how water bends light. It throws images, making the fish appear at places they aren't. Aim lower, towards the belly. And don't use your sword-it's too large and messy. Use either your hands or a small spear."

"Yes, sir," said Leitken, awed and flabbergasted. Dilandau put the gasping fish back in the water.

"Go back to the camp. There you will find your fellow slayers skinning a deer. I expect you to help them. I have to go away for a bit. While I am gone you and Cedric are in charge," Dilandau said.

Leitken nodded. "Yes, sir."

The violet-haired slayer marched out of the pond. Dilandau, with is usual arrogant grace, followed him and then turned sharply to his right. Leitken watched him go. As his commander moved into the trees Leitken noticed a shadow stir, then fall into step with him.

Leitken sheathed his sword and took off after Dilandau.

~*~

A/N: Snicker snack, how dull. Oh well. Guess I get to write an exciting next part. I apologize for the dreariness of this piece as of late. It seems that I've lost a lot of interest in Tenkuu no Escaflowne. I've exhausted my obsession, I suppose. I am now in the throes of a Gundam Wing obsession. You know, I went in to that series thinking, 'Okay, I won't become a Duo-obsessed maniac like everyone else and I'm going to do my damndest to like Relena.'

Duo: Really? Why in the world would you want to do something like that?

rainjewel: I don't know…it doesn't matter anyway, it obviously didn't work! My computer monitor is covered with pictures of little Duo-kun and I listen to "Kitto OK" on a daily basis. And for the record, the name of my Jeep is officially "Deathscythe." And every single Gwing fic I've written has Duo in it.

Duo: What can I say, I'm irresistible! Anyway, it's about time you got over that one-armed crying dude.

Folken: HEY! It's a tattoo! I was drunk! I can explain!

rainjewel: Waitasec, I haven't gotten that far. Obviously you didn't notice me crying on Feb. 17, moaning on how Folkie's now been dead for 6 years and he would have been 31. Not like I keep a record or anything…wait, drunk? Folkie drunk? That sounds interesting. I can't picture it though. Quite beyond my comprehension.

Heero: Speaking of things beyond comprehension, what in the hell do you mean by 1x2?

rainjewel: *blushes* Uh…Duo? You wanna take this one?

Duo: Hey, you think I want an automatic shoved up my nose? I don't think so.

Wufei: That's because you are weak! You are an ONNA!

rainjewel: Can't you ever say that without using all caps?

Wufei: Quiet, ONNA.

rainjewel: That's it, Wuffers! You're going DOWN! *whips out Draco Malfoy's wand*

Draco: I was wondering where that went.

rainjewel: WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!

Wufei: *floating* What the F@#%??!!! INJUSTICE!

rainjewel: *ties string to Wufei's leg* Look! A Wuffers balloon! *runs*

Wufei: AAIIIEEE!!!!

Duo: Hey Wu-bear, I can see your skivvies!

~*~