Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Devil's Due ❯ - 04 - ( Chapter 4 )

— 04 —

October 15, A.C. 204. Airport. 9am

Jordan yawned as he moved through the port with his hands in his pockets. He was trying to figure out a better way to keep himself from staying late at the Rest. The alarm had worked for about three seconds, but he’d needed to finish reading that report…and then he’d forgotten about the alarm and had moved onto the next report. He didn’t like Chai being upset with him, it didn’t work, but he didn’t know any better ways to circumvent it.

“Hey, Jor,” Xane muttered happily, bouncing from the waiting area to him happily, then shook his very blond hair out.

Jordan grinned at that, running a hand through it.

“We’re in public,” Xane reprimanded, pulling away.

“Well?”

“I have it in my luggage,” Xane admitted. “Let’s get back to base and get it marked in.”

“All right,” Jor muttered, shoving his hands back into his pockets.

“Jude?”

“This morning,” Jordan agreed, starting to stroll back toward the luggage claim.

“Raul?”

“Every other day,” Jordan shrugged. “He’s taking your spot in Thailand.”

“My hair,” Xane muttered, tugging at the end of it. “If I dye it again it’ll fry entirely. I need to just grow it out and then change it.”

“I may not be able to get you Remalene,” Jordan protested, looking to him.

“I can be remarkably clumsy, you know,” the guy noted in amusement.

“Aren’t those contacts bugging you?” Jordan added, glancing at the blue eyes. He was extremely bothered at Xane’s voice coming from a blond haired blue-eyed guy’s lips.

“Nope, got used to them a long time ago,” Xane bounced along after his superior as they moved down the stairs. “You look tired.”

“I had a run with Doug this morning,” Jordan shrugged. “We got up early and followed Zechs around in town.”

“You been to the Rest yet?”

“No, I’m gonna go after we get your stuff checked in.”

Xane rubbed at his neck as he considered things. He knew that he had to go back to his place, James was waiting for him…granted, James didn’t know that Xane was in yet, but if he actually just checked in…

It’d have to be an order, and the Rest was a volunteer project, so Jor couldn’t order him to go, which meant that he’d have to hang out before going down.

Damn.

“What?” Jordan muttered, glancing back at him.

“You’re not tired because you got up early,” Xane shrugged as they headed toward the customer service desk. “You’re tired because you’re over-working yourself and that adds stress to your home-life.”

Jordan rolled his eyes.

“I was going to go with you to the Rest, but I have to go to James.”

“I don’t like James,” Jor noted helpfully.

“Which is why I have to go to him,” Xane retorted. “He won’t know I’m in, because you haven’t felt the need to tell him. If I go with you now, it’d have to be an order, and since the mission is a volunteer program, you can’t order me to go without some sort of assignment in Angels. Any assignment you’d have for me there would put me in Jon’s territory, and you seem disinclined to pounce on that notion.”

Jordan turned to give him a level look.

Xane shrugged, leaning against the counter as they reached it.

“Who else do you have to see today?” Jordan demanded acerbically. “You’re not still on the ‘only one’ kick are you?”

“I got over that months ago,” Xane retorted, rolling his eyes. “By your wedding, actually.”

“I don’t get how he can be so freaked out that you’re cheating and still stays with you.”

“It’s not like I don’t care about him,” Xane retorted. “I’m just as big an asshole as you.”

“And you want someone to come home to,” Jor grumped.

“That’s what you’re for,” Xane noted in amusement. “You’d noticed that, hadn’t you?”

He got an extremely level look for the comment.

“How can I help you?” the man working asked curiously.

Xane set his ticket on the counter, smiling at the man.

“All right, just a moment…oh…are you his superior?” he asked Jordan.

Jordan nodded.

“All right, let me get the forms,” the man turned and dug out some paperwork, passing that to Jordan with a pen before turning to the back.

Xane studied Jordan a moment, then turned his back to the desk to look the people over moving behind them. “My relationship with James is…hard,” he admitted. “He knows I’m cheating on him, he just hasn’t caught me yet.”

“And what happens when he does?” Jor demanded.

“I don’t know, it hasn’t happened yet.”

Jordan shook his head, signing the bottom of the sheet.

“How’s Chai?”

“She was mad at me last night, but I think she’s okay this morning,” Jordan noted, considering it as he set the clipboard on the lower counter. “I was two hours late last night.” He considered his friend a moment, considering his hair again.

“Don’t touch it,” Xane cautioned with a grin. “We’re still in public.”

“Whatever,” Jor muttered, resting his head on his elbow on the counter-top.

Xane snorted slightly, rubbing at his eyes. “I need to go to bed soon, too.”

“It’d only be four,” Jor teased, straightening.

Xane moved to lean against his side. “It’s still a fourteen hour flight.”

“We’re in public,” Jordan reminded him gently.

Xane sighed and moved away again.

“Here you go, sir,” the man muttered, offering Jordan a smaller sheet to sign. “This is in your care.”

“Yes, thank you,” Jordan returned, signing that and setting the pen down as he took the gun-case from the man. “Have a good day.”

“You, too, thanks,” the man returned, smiling at him as he started typing on the computer.

Jordan led Xane back through the bustle in silence, taking the stairs to get to the air-bridge that led to the parking garage. It didn’t take them long to get to the van, and Xane moved quietly to sit in the passenger seat as Jordan stored the thing carefully in the back of the van.

He wanted his friend’s report, but he had no intention of doing it in public.

Some things just weren’t done in public.

- -

October 15, A.C. 204. Lower Angels. 11am

Chance bounced as he listened to his MP3 player. Shin had talked him into getting one when they’d ran to the store, and he’d dropped her off at Jor’s house to do some run around authority crap, and she’d loaded the thing with music with Chai’s help.

One of the various soldiers moved from Jordan’s office, saluting him as he moved quickly down the hall.

Okay…

“Stop doing that, now,” Jordan ordered darkly.

“Stop doing what?” Xane asked curiously.

“Mouthy!” Chance exclaimed, bouncing into the office to see the guy sitting on the arm of Jordan’s chair.

“Hey,” the green-eyed male returned, smiling up at him. “You just get in?”

Chance pulled the headphones from his ears to talk properly, then realized he couldn’t remember the power button on his machine. He considered it a moment before nodding his response and looking up with a smile…and offering the thing to the younger male.

Xane considered that a moment, then got up and moved around the desk to…flick a button.

“Ooh, yeah,” Chance grinned appreciatively at the guy. “How’d it go?”

“Go, fight, win?” the guy offered, moving back around to sit on the arm of the chair again and ruffle Jordan’s hair.

“What’s got you so pissy?” Chance added, noting his friend’s expression.

“Every time I get up, this pile gets smaller,” Jordan retorted, indicating the inbox on his desk glumly.

“That’s a bad thing?” Chance asked blankly, sitting across from the guy. “That’s my dream.”

“He,” he elbowed his second, “keeps giving them to people.”

“Ow, don’t,” Xane pouted at him.

“Giving them…to people?” Chance raised an eyebrow at the other.

“It’s called delegating,” Xane explained. “He has at least twenty people a day that don’t have all that much they can do…I’m giving them something to do and they feel special…I even made up information sheets,” he added, passing a piece of paper to Chance from a pile under an open file.

It was a summary sheet, plain and simple.

Chance grinned.

“Don’t encourage him,” Jordan grumbled.

“I’ll leave the really special ones for you,” Xane reassured the male, messing his hair again.

There were steps in the hall.

Xane moved from the chair instantly, dropping onto the couch as he focused curiously on the door.

“Mr. Maxwell?” a woman asked, poking her head in, then blinked at the occupants.

“You wanna do this for me, too?” Jordan half growled at his companion, giving him a narrow eyed look.

“I’m…sorry…” she started.

“Sorry,” Chance reassured her, jumping up and heading for the door. “Please,” he added, gesturing into the room and smiling at her.

She gave him a confused look.

He smiled more at her, then looked pointedly to Xane.

The soldier had asked if Jor would let him in the interim, and since he was just getting a look for it, he smiled more at his friend and followed the other male into the hall.

“How’d it go?” Chance asked, looking around a moment before heading toward his office.

“Normal,” Xane shrugged. He tugged at his hair a bit, thinking. “I have to hang out until this mop grows out,” he added. “I figured I’d come in here and get the world off Jor’s shoulders.”

“He’s a sturdy man,” Chance noted in amusement. “Maybe not so sturdy as Atlas, but there you go.”

“Atlas was turned to stone.”

Chance flashed him a grin, unlocking the door to his area. “Can I get you to go get my mail?” he added, offering the guy the key to his inbox.

“Ye’sa,” Xane returned impudently, smiling almost coyly at him before turning and disappearing.

Chance snorted at that, pulling his MP3 player back out and considering the buttons on the edge. The power button even said power…couldn’t get more simple than that. The volume was controlled by the main button along with just about everything else, so that was good, too…

He tucked the thing into a drawer, pulling out his cell phone and setting that on the desk top as he hit the message button his phone.

“Hello, Mr. Yuy,” a pleasant male voice noted. “This is Fredrick Dorl with Calhub International, and I was given this number to organize a donation…”

Chance smiled slightly as he started writing.

Those were the really happy messages.

- -

October 15, A.C. 204. Base. 4:30pm

“He reem you out?” Doug asked tiredly, sitting next to Trowa.

“Who? Jor?” Trowa gave him a startled look. “Why? What happened?”

“I couldn’t do anything right is all,” the man returned with another heavy sigh. He rubbed at his neck. “He was on me about walking in quiet areas, he was on me about where my focus was…about how far behind the mark we were…I see what Mario meant…Xane’n’em must work damn hard to please him.”

Trowa considered that a moment, then tossed the report folder in his friend’s lap.

Doug blinked at him, then opened it to look at the comments page.

Fillmore performed excellently with few points of rebuke. His status is higher than a soldier of his level and profession could be expected. Request for a true training enclosed.

Doug blinked again.

“His grammar is special…or his word choice? Maybe sentence structure,” Trowa took the folder back. “But his meaning was obvious.”

“What does he mean, true training?”

“Train you like he did Mouthy and his team,” Trowa shrugged. “He did the same for Allul and Robert, too. I’m thinking Marks will get the same note tomorrow morning.”

“He was being hard on me, though,” Doug protested, blinking at his superior. “How could he just turn it around to me being fine?”

“You do better than a mech boy should, but not as good as a spy-boy. Don’t worry at it so hard. He’s stressed lately and waking up early was never really his forte…and don’t criticize your superiors.”

Doug grinned slightly at that, then raised an eyebrow.

“I need a break,” Trowa muttered, considering the paperwork in front of him. “Your house open?”

“Are you smoking?” Doug protested, sitting up to look at him properly. “You’re not, are you?”

“Of course not,” Trowa rolled his eyes. “Never mind, I’m gonna go on a drive,” he started to stand.

Doug rested a hand on his forearm, studying his face with a larger frown. “Trowa…”

“Don’t you have stuff to do?” Trowa retorted, giving him a dark look.

“Sorry, sir,” Doug settled back, frowning more at the man, then shook his head.

“I’m fucking tired,” Trowa snapped at him, then moved pointedly to the door.

Doug sighed, rising and moving to follow him out.

He wasn’t sure who he should talk to…Trowa’s superiors or Trowa’s friends…neither seemed like the best of choice…but if Trowa was seriously taking a break from work to do illegal drugs…

“Don’t they do random drug screening?” he asked quietly as the other man locked the door. “Come on…you know it’ll come up in intensive.”

“If it’s not in my system they don’t turn it in,” Trowa retorted. “And I don’t plan to do intensive any time soon.”

“Yeah…” the man frowned, looking around as he thought. “Is Wufei in his office?”

“How the fuck would I know?” Trowa retorted irritably, then shook his head and walked away.

Doug saluted after him, raising a nail to his mouth as he thought. He’d rather go to Chance or Jordan, but since it was already three in the afternoon, they’d both be down at the Rest.

…he didn’t actually have anything to do.

The soldier started for his own car…but his drive had a destination.