Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Devil's Due ❯ - 20 - ( Chapter 20 )

— 20 —

December 2, A.C. 204. Base. 8:30am

"Jordan?" Chai asked quickly, resting the phone against her ear.

"Hey, baby," Jordan said in a tired sort of voice. "I seem to have found some strays. Can I take them home with me?"

"I don't know, are they flea-ridden?" she returned, feeling relief drain through her.

"They don't look like it," Jordan muttered. "We can take them to the vet and check."

"Hey!" Riley protested in the background, sounding vaguely amused.

"I'll have to think about it," Chai noted, dropping onto one of the stools. "There's a shelter here anyway."

Jordan started laughing his true laugh, he usually laughed like that for her, but not around other people. "Oh, shit, baby," he muttered, losing the playful air. "They came in about ten minutes ago with some of my resources...they're both fine, but Danielle is upset...you brought my notes home, right?"

"Yeah," she agreed, moving toward the bedroom and the briefcase of stuff she'd gathered.

"Pull out the blue grid front one," he said. "It's got notes in it...find Danielle's and write severe stress factor under the variable heading."

Chai pulled that out, opening it up and blinking at her husband's scrawl. It wasn't exactly untidy, it was clear enough, but...

"What's up?" Quatre asked, moving into the room properly to give her an alarmed look.

"Ten minutes ago," she explained, setting the notebook on the counter and starting to flip through the pages as she passed the man the phone. She hadn't heard him come in, but his presence didn't startle her.

"Can you help her?" Jordan asked his friend quietly. "My hand writing isn't exactly neat."

"What is she looking for?" Quatre returned, moving to stand behind her and read over her shoulder. Jordan repeated the information, and Quatre noted that Chai had found Danielle's page and was using her finger to read the headings.

It was...sort of slow.

"Her reading level isn't too great, so it will take her a second...point out the variable factors heading for her."

Quatre blinked and pointed at the list.

"Ooh, thanks," Chai said happily, focusing on writing her husband's words.

Her handwriting looked like a teenagers.

Quatre frowned, thinking back to Shin when she noted she couldn't read that well. It was easy to forget that the education in Lower Angels was crap, and if Chai had been pregnant she probably had dropped out of school on top of it.

Was Shin the same way?

"The girls are here and safe," Jordan added, sounding relieved. "We're gonna sleep tonight and head back in on the first flight in the morning. Our flight will get there at one. I have no car there so I'll need picked up."

"That's fine," Quatre reassured him as Chai looked up to him curiously. "Their flight comes in tomorrow at one."

She nodded, looking back to the notebook.

"Anything else you want us to do?" the man asked.

"I dunno, spin my three puppies into the other groups? Set Simone up to tail Chance as an assistant, get Trent to follow Wufei, and you and Tro can fight over Max...it'll give them something to do that's at least remotely useful for today."

"All right," Quatre agreed, looking to the back window. "I'm gonna give Chai the phone back now. I'm on break and wanted to check what was happening here. I'll see you tomorrow."

"All right," Jordan agreed. "Hey, Max is a good guy, book smart, but he doesn't have a lot of practical experience. Don't break him on me."

Quatre laughed and passed the phone to Chai, leaning forward to kiss her forehead before turning to go again.

He'd seen some cute looking children's books at the canteen, and had thought about buying them for Chip. He'd intended to have sit down and read time with the boy, but if he worked it like he wanted to, he could probably get Chai reading it, then Shin.

The only way he'd figure out her reading level was to test her, after all...her and Shin both.

It didn't do to have wives who couldn't read. It seemed a little too damned stone age for his thinking.

He moved out the door, heading back to his car with a slight grin.

He needed to find Wufei and see if the man was willing to swallow his damn pride or not. Danielle was really a good girl, and aside from being a spoiled girl, she wasn't that high maintenance.

Shit, if Wufei could figure out the empathy stuff like he'd been trying, and he wasn't going to get over his pride, Quatre himself might lend the girl some support.

It was a wicked thought, but he also knew he'd do it...if.

- -

December 2, A.C. 204. Base. 8:45am

"Go! Go! Go!" Chance was shouting at the backs of his men as they ran in full battle dress toward their van. The man himself was trying to pull on his bulletproof vest.

Quatre moved to stand beside the path, giving the man a curious look.

"Winner!" he shouted irritably. "Out of the way! Go, assholes!"

They were actually ignoring Quatre, far too used to Chance in business mode to take his shouting too seriously.

"Mae and Duvall are safe," Quatre retorted, watching the men move around him wordlessly.

"What?" Chance half stopped, then shook his head and shoved his rifle into Quatre's hands. "Tell me now." He started lining his vest up properly.

"Jor called about five minutes ago. I guess he got them about fifteen. That's all I know...what are you doing, sir?"

Quatre really wished he hadn't added that, but there was something about Chance that made it a bit instinctive.

"Drug raid gone bad," Chance retorted, taking his rifle back and pausing briefly to flash him a grin, "...sir."

Quatre gave him a look as he jumped into the already moving van. He watched the pair of vehicles fly down the road, then realized what the man had said.

Huh...

So, where was Wufei?

He started for the building, then stopped as Max, Trent, and Simone moved out to give him worried looks.

"Ladies," Quatre greeted, making a gesture like tilting his hat.

"Sir," Simone returned nonplussed as the guys gave him looks and saluted.

"You're supposed to be playing with Yuy today," he noted to the female. "But he's going to play target practice, so I'm stealing you instead."

She gave him a confused look, which included a cute tilt of her head.

And how old was she? Quatre berated himself slightly for the thoughts teasing at him with hints of ‘if Wufei...'

"You're with Chang," he added to Trent, who perked up happily. "I don't know where Chang is, but you're with him...go...find him," he gestured toward the building with one hand.

The guy gave him a look, then saluted and turned at a run.

"And me?" Max asked.

"You get to play with Mecha today," Quatre returned happily. "Maxwell said for me and him to fight over you, but I got the girl," he shrugged. "Come on. He's out in the field."

"The field?" Max asked nervously, moving to follow. "I know the med tent...the M building..."

Quatre gave him a look.

"I don't know what ‘field' refers to?" he offered.

"This big flat area covered in grass," Quatre returned somewhat expansively, using both hands to indicate a large area. "Lovers run through them in the summer to jump at each other and hug, deer frolic in them...foxes chase stuff in them. They aren't all that hard to find."

"You're mean," Simone protested when Max flinched embarrassedly.

"I...am an ass," Quatre reassured her happily, nodding his head as they started walking. "It's one of my many charms. You'll come to love it, I promise."

She gave him an amused look.

It didn't take them too long to pass the end of the building, but the field was actually a few blocks over behind a couple taller buildings. The walk wasn't straining at all, but it did take some time...but the pair of youth stopped to crane their necks up at the giant M.S. standing in ordered rows, blocking out what view of the grey overcast skies there was.

"Come on," Quatre added, moving across the street. The men guarding the area saluted him properly as he passed, but didn't question his right to bring anyone into the area. Anyone else would have been stopped at gunpoint.

"Those are huge," Simone whispered, moving closer to him.

"Are you afraid of heights?" he asked her curiously.

She shook her head, her eyes still shining up.

"I'll take you up one, then," he reassured her, then raised his voice to a comfortable bellow. "Barton!"

"Go away," Trowa returned, his head appearing over a shoulder.

"Come on," Quatre said happily to Max, who was still very wide-eyed. The towrope was down, which made things ten times easier than talking Trowa into lowering it when he was trying to work.

Quatre slid his foot into the handhold and extended an arm to Max.

Max balked.

"I won't drop you," Quatre retorted irritably, grabbing his arm and pulling him in hard. "Hold onto me, you'll have no footing."

"I'm not comfortable with this!" he started to protest, but Quatre used his free foot to start the tow.

"What do you want, Winner," Trowa demanded, disappearing again.

Quatre ignored him, more focused on keeping the horrified nineteen year old against his chest. The guy was almost crushing him, so Quatre doubted they'd fall, but one wrong move would send them spinning.

"Quatre," Trowa snapped when the rope neared the opened hatch.

"Mae and Duvall are a half hour or so safe," Quatre noted, stopping the rope with his boot to shove the kid up onto the platform. Max scrambled away from the edge and pressed his back against the door. "I don't know full details, but I know Jor has them," Quatre clicked the tow back on and climbed up himself, stepping toward the shoulder and considering the path Trowa would have taken. "Can we come out?"

"What do you need to for?" Trowa retorted irritably, reappearing. He was wearing a plain grey t-shirt that was stretched over his chest...and covered in grease spots, actually. He also had on those black half-gloves and his green uniform pants.

"Come on," Quatre suggested to the kid.

"Do I have to?" Max asked, staring at him.

"Are you scared of heights?" Quatre asked blankly.

"No...falling," the guy returned. "If I were safe up here..."

"There's a harness in the pit," Trowa noted. "Have him put it on...I don't care if you fall." He disappeared again.

"Like I'd fall," Quatre retorted, moving into the cockpit to dig the item in question out. It took Max a little bit of doing to figure the thing out and get it on, and then it took Quatre a moment to get it on right.

"What are you doing up here?" Trowa added, looking down to Simone, who was standing near the feet and looking up at them.

Quatre took the jump like he imagined Trowa had, then turned and opened his arms to reassure the kid he'd catch him.

If he had to catch him, they were both falling, so he would have a hold of him...

"Hey," Trowa persisted, giving him a look. "I'm annoyed, how are you ignoring me?"

"I've lived with this my whole life," Quatre retorted almost irritably as Max did jump. He made sure he was steady on his own two feet before turning to look at Trowa again. "I don't know if you remember or not, but I'm twenty-five."

Trowa gave him a look.

Quatre rolled his eyes slightly as Max moved curiously closer to the hole Trowa'd been in.

"So?" Trowa added, passing the kid a wrench and dropping to crouch in front of the thing. "Fuck...I can't get this bolt loose," he added to the blond, messing with a metal protrusion before wiping his face...and smearing grease on it.

"Oh let me," Quatre grumbled, sliding between the pair to get down and take the wrench from the younger male. He was older than both of them and still smaller–that only bothered him sometimes...

"You fit," Trowa retorted, moving back and studying Max. "You know mech?"

"Not really," Max returned, still looking into the hole with a severe sort of interest.

"You ever flown?"

The kid turned to give him a wide-eyed sort of wondering look. "Not yet, the testing is in a few weeks...but I'm with Maxwell, so...unless he cuts me loose..." he shrugged, looking away.

"Bullshit," Trowa retorted. "I'll teach you to fly in the next year or two, tests or no."

The guy focused on him.

"We spin our guys through all of us," Quatre reminded him. "Paris is a damn good flyer...so is Morgan, actually."

"Who?"

"Marks and Robert," Trowa explained. "Winner and Chang's seconds."

"I'm not...a second," he protested.

"Holy shit, Tro," Quatre muttered irritably as he tried to get his arm in at a good angle. "What did you do to this? The edges are all eaten off."

"It's stuck," Trowa retorted irritably. "Don't be an ass to me about it."

"Fuck!" Quatre snarled as he skinned his knuckles, then noted that his nails had oil under them and groaned irritably, pulling back. He considered his hand a moment, then looked to Max. "You do it."

"What?" Max returned in disbelief. "I can't touch..."

Quatre looked to Trowa.

"We're going to pretend you didn't just say that," Trowa informed him happily. "There are about three people above us who can tell us what to do...so we're going to forget this conversation even took place.

Max stared at them, then moved quickly into the hole to study the bolts.

"Shit," Quatre repeated, using a handful of Trowa's shirt to wipe his hand off. "Anyway...Jor called to say he got the girls. They're sleeping now, or nearly, and they're coming in tomorrow at one. He told me to spin his puppies out."

"Ow," Max muttered, jumping slightly before turning to look at him. "What?"

Quatre gestured him back to his job indifferently, looking back to his nails. "He told me to put Simone with Chance, and Trent with Fei...and then me and you could fight over Max, but Chance is on drug-raid duty and Simone might have the skills for that, but not the full training like the rest of his team has, so I'm going to take her. That means you get Max."

Trowa looked to the kid a long moment, then rolled his eyes very slightly. "All right."

"Ow," Max repeated in more of a whine, withdrawing from the hole to look at his own knuckles.

They both looked at him.

"What do you want me to do with this?" he asked, offering them the bolt before looking back to his bleeding knuckles.

"Here," Trowa suggested, making a catching gesture. A few moments later, there was a loud thud as he tossed the thing into a large trash-bin between the machine he was working on and the one behind it.

"You got it?" Doug called from the next machine back, then blinked at Quatre and saluted.

"Yeah, Max did," Trowa agreed. "He's already bleeding for it...he'll do just fine, huh?"

Max blinked at him.

"I'm gonna take Simone up," Quatre noted, moving back toward the cockpit door. "Maybe she'll have fingernail clippers so I can clean this shit out..."

Trowa gave him an amused look. "Pretty boy," he accused.

"My hair is shiny and healthy," Quatre retorted, jumping back to the door. "My nails are healthy, and my clothes stay clean. I'm not a pretty boy."

"I could make a few comments that you really wouldn't appreciate," Trowa noted happily, watching as he sat on the edge. "I won't, but I could."

"You're a doll," Quatre retorted...and slid down the rope in a practiced motion so the thing didn't have to stop moving for him to mount it. He saluted Trowa half-assed as he started to spin, and noted that Max was watching him with very wide eyes.

He grinned very slightly...and went to impress the girl.

- -

December 3, A.C. 204. Sion, Switzerland. 7am

Judas ran his hand down his face tiredly as he closed his phone, thanking whatever god was out there that his friends were safe. It'd been bad enough to hear about the issue when Jordan had called from his airplane, let alone knowing he was too far away to be of any use when Mouthy was closer.

Not only were they safe though...but Jordan was coming.

That call had been to inform Judas that Jor would be stopping in Sion for a day or two. He had already sent Riley and Danielle back to the base, but he himself was en route to Switzerland to check on him since the guy had been alone for several weeks.

Judas wasn't entirely sure he appreciated that, really.

"Who the hell was that?" Aleksander demanded from where he'd passed out the night before on the floor.

"A friend," Judas returned, dropping back onto his mattress. Victor and Rasmus were scattered across the floor, but Kiel had taken up the bottom edge of the bed. "Why are you fucks still in here?"

"Because it's warm or something," Kiel noted, moving to stretch up the bed and lay properly. "I seriously hope Boss-man doesn't need us for a few hours."

"Don't be stupid," Judas returned. "I have some Bloody Mary mix in my bag."

"How'd you afford that?" Victor asked, his head poking up.

"Doesn't Brantley pay you?" Judas demanded of him in disbelief. "Or do you just have weird priorities?"

"I dunno, I have this baby back home," Victor retorted irritably. "This thing called a family...kinda makes it hard to spend extra money on hangover cures."

"Yeah, you'd rather spend it on more alcohol," Ras agreed tiredly. "Want me to get it?"

"No, I will," Judas returned, climbing off the bed. "My friend is going to stay with me for the night," he added.

"What?" Alek raised his head to give him a confused look.

"My friend is staying the night here. He's got a weird lay-over."

"How do you know English?" Kiel asked, looking at him curiously.

"What?" Judas demanded blankly.

"You answered in English," the guy repeated. "You didn't say much, but..."

"I took the class in school," Judas noted, giving him a weird look.

It was bad enough Jor had snapped at him to speak German, he didn't need them realizing he knew more languages than that.

"You're weird," Alek noted, rolling his eyes. "You're just really weird."

"Whatever," Judas retorted, flopping back a moment before making himself fall off the mattress so he'd stand up again.

They really needed that Bloody Mary mix...now, if they intended to do anything all day long.

Hopefully he hadn't drank enough so he'd puke...but he really didn't think he'd managed it.

...but Jordan was coming.

No matter what happened during the day, he had that to focus on...and he fully intended to.