Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Devil's Due ❯ - 38 - ( Chapter 38 )

— 38 —

February 11, A.C. 205. Base. 12:15 pm

Trowa was laughing his ass off as he paced Max, wondering if his friends were pulling their hair out or not. If he’d made sure the three of them had stayed confined to the training air space, it wouldn’t have been an issue, but he hadn’t made sure of that, so he was flying with Max over the base’s living quarters, trying to direct the guy back toward more proper flying zones.

“Barton, I got the girl back in line!” Doug called. “I’m gonna go get that other boy…”

“Kick ass,” Trowa returned, accelerating his machine to intercept the turn Max was heading into.

“Holy shit!” Max’s voice was almost startling.

There was a set-up in the machines that, if you had the option on, meant that you were constantly connected with your comrades. Repeated noises, like laughing, cursing…or screaming…would eventually stop the sensor. Trowa had to figure Max was either laughing his ass off the entire time or not saying much.

“What?” Trowa demanded, not able to spot the guy’s source.

“How are you moving that fast?” Max demanded.

“What? It’s called acceleration…you know, the slidey thing on the right?”

“No!” Max protested, his suit slowing up. “I have this as far as I can handle it…”

“Do I need to remind you that I’ve been flying as long as I can remember?”

Max didn’t respond.

“Head back to Simone,” Trowa added. “I’m done playing tag with you.”

“Sir,” Max returned…and immediately started in that direction.

Trowa shook his head, raising up in the air more. He knew he was going to hear about the playing from Une before the day was over, probably before the hour was over, but they had been enjoying themselves.

“Uh…” Doug’s voice was uncertain.

“I’m so going to kick your ass,” Jordan’s voice crackled over another radio…there was the sound of shouting and protests from that background…and suddenly another of the altered Leos took to the air.

“Ah, Maxwell,” Trowa drawled his friend’s name out. “I knew you liked my toys…”

“I’m going to fuck that machine over so you can’t come flying through the base again,” Jordan noted happily.

There was a wicked laugh.

“Stay there,” Chance muttered quietly, though his voice wasn’t directed away from his machine.

“All right,” a quiet voice returned.

“I wanna fly!” Logan protested. “Let me fly!”

“Get in, then,” Quatre retorted.

“Um…what are you doing?” Trowa demanded, inputting the codes to turn on the cams of the activated mics…to see Simone, Trent, Max, and Doug, then Jordan, Quatre, Chance, and Richard. Richard was in with Chance. A moment later, Logan appeared on another screen, bouncing in his seat as he started activating the controls.

“We’re going to grind you into the pavement,” Jordan explained happily.

“In other words,” Chance noted, “Jor’s it.”

Trowa flashed the guy a grin as his machine beeped to indicate his camera had been activated.

“What?” Simone demanded, looking around at her in confusion.

“What’s going on?” Max added, appearing there as well. After a moment, Trent appeared with a similar protest.

“You didn’t hurt my guys, did you?” Trowa added, focusing sharply on Jordan.

“I was going to,” Jor shrugged. “But somehow they got smart enough to avoid that much confrontation.”

“Haha,” Trowa gave him a look. He considered everyone he could see a moment before sighing and shifting down in his seat, pulling the walkie-talkie he had hooked to his arm to his mouth and hitting the button. “Flight team, secure the perimeter.”

“Yes, sir!” his various men responded happily, scampering to the remaining suits.

“Okay, you three,” Doug said sharply, focusing on the youngest set. “You’re gonna wanna let the boys play amongst themselves. Feel free to join in when you’re in normal air space, but the four of them are like to touch the sky.”

“Sir,” Simone said in an almost quavering voice.

“You’re not scared, are you, pussycat?” Jordan asked, focusing on her in amusement.

“I don’t fly that well, sir,” she returned, meeting his eyes.

“Right,” he agreed almost sardonically. “Trowa?”

“Yes’m?” Trowa asked, getting a little excited as he crossed into the proper air space himself.

“I’m going to kick your ass, you know.”

“You’re going to try,” Trowa returned, his eyes sparkling. “Let’s remind ourselves that I grew up in a suit and that I’ve been fixing them and testing them consistently for the past five or eight years…whatever the count is anymore.”

Jordan flashed him a smirk.

“Chance?” Quatre asked sweetly.

“Mm?” Chance returned, though he was focused on getting Richard settled.

“If you hurt my nephew,” Quatre returned, “you won’t live to regret it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Chance noted without even looking around.

“No, I’m serious,” Quatre noted.

Chanced turned to focus on the screen in amusement. “Whatever you say.”

- -

February 11, A.C. 205. Base. 4 pm

Wufei sipped from his fountain drink as he leaned against the gaited entry of the field, watching the skies with interest as the various mobile suits performed aerial acrobatics for the amusement of the masses…or something.

Actually, it was more like a game of tag than acrobatics, though there were plenty of those.

It’d been going on for hours.

Wufei took another drink from his cup, then looked around. The entry was locked, and there were a few suits around the perimeter, which were probably there just as much to keep the suits in the fly-zone–there’d been an issue earlier in the day with them over the base–as to keep unwanted bystanders out.

No one would be stupid enough to follow him, they probably all knew who he was. He stepped back, sizing up the fence, then jumped at it.

The metal clashed and jangled loudly in either direction, causing the watchers to turn and look at him in amazement as he carefully scrambled over the barbed-wire spiral at the top, then dropped backwards into the yard.

As he’d expected, the motion sensor of one of the suits picked him up immediately and the suit turned, taking those very intimidating steps towards him.

Wufei waited, eyeing the monitor almost pointedly as the machine came to a stop…then the hand moved the approval.

Like they would have refused him.

He shook his head as an excited chitter moved up the fence, moving toward a machine himself. He was torn between the fun he knew his brethren were having and the fact that it was in giant weapons…weapons everyone had decided to destroy that were collected from the scrap heap and thrown at Trowa to play with.

Trowa’s unit wasn’t the only unit to restore the suits…but he was probably the highest-ranking officer amongst the units.

Wufei was also pretty sure that Trowa’s unit was the only one altering the previous construction.

Leos weren’t supposed to fly.

He grabbed the tow of one of the machines and clicked the button, starting up as he listened to the noises above him. He wasn’t really comfortable with that, truth be told. The movement brought to mind a battle, and the fact that he was unprotected made his heart beat faster…but there were no shots, and the people watching weren’t afraid.

He hopped onto the platform, then slid into the machine, considering the controls a moment before starting to power it up. As soon as the hatch was closed, the screens flashed to life…with his comrades, laughter, and sound.

He blinked.

“Fei!” Trowa exclaimed delightedly, focusing on him. “Are you coming to play, too?”

“I can’t very well sit at the fence,” he retorted, hitting the final button. He closed his eyes as the feeling of power washed over him–the sheer magnitude of the power at his hands…

“Or on it,” Trowa mused. “Not with us all on the same side…”

“I did that before,” Wufei muttered quietly, opening his eyes and looking around again. “It doesn’t work.”

- -

February 11, A.C. 205. Base. 7 pm

Une looked a bit pissed.

“Hey, come on,” Jordan cut her off before she could even open her mouth, moving in close to her like he’d always used to do. “Calm down,” he muttered, catching her hand. “You know we didn’t mean any harm, and I really was trying to kick Tro’s ass at first.”

She frowned at him.

“You can’t be angry at us for that,” Jor moved on quickly, moving around so he stayed in front of her before she could pace off. “We were testing Tro’s machines.”

“You disrupted the entire base,” she snapped back.

Trowa and Chance exchanged looks without turning their heads. They were standing at formal attention with Jor’s team behind them and Doug. The rest of Tro’s team had been excused as following orders, but that was more because they didn’t fit in the office.

“Everything was behind today, Jordan,” Une snapped when the guy remained quiet. “Most of today’s work was left undone, everyone is talking about you lot playing with the weapons, and…they were over the base!”

Trowa started to open his mouth, but Chance gestured sharply at him to be still.

“It was an oversight,” Jordan reassured her without missing a beat. “It was…they wanted to fly some and we let them.”

“You’re full of shit,” Une informed him pointedly. “You weren’t even there until noon or better.”

“Well, shit,” Jordan snapped irritably, losing his soothsayer’s aire. “It’s not our fault the people are too stupid to remember there’s work to do.”

“Don’t get pissy at me because you broke the rules,” she snapped at him in a matching irritated tone. “You know there’s a line I have to draw with the five of you. You know that when you do certain things it requires a reprimand.”

“Don’t be stupid,” he snapped sharply. “We were testing the machines.”

“You had nothing to do with the base flying,” Une shot back. “There were people saying that it bothered you and that’s why you joined in.”

“What’s your point?” he retorted. “It doesn’t negate the fact that we were testing the machines.”

“Don’t raise your voice to me,” she responded, her own voice rising. “I’m still the superior here, and you have to obey me.”

Chance looked around to Quatre, not liking the static.

If Jordan actually got annoyed with Une, shit tended to hit the fan.

“I have to obey you? Do you honestly think that old tired line will work? I’ve been to Lower Angels, and…haha,” he fake laughed brightly, “none of y’all found me.”

“But we know you’ll go to the dogs now,” she hissed.

“Jordan!” Chance snapped, jumping forward as Une cringed back.

Jordan slammed his hands against the desk behind her, causing the entire thing to shift…and an extremely loud sound.

Une was standing completely still.

Jordan turned his head, still with his hands and weight against the desk to meet her eyes. “You ever say one word about my wife, and so help me…”

Chance pulled Jordan away from their superior with a sick sensation in his stomach. It had been a long time since Jor had actually snapped and made the woman cringe back.

Simone and Trent exchanged a look before looking back to Max, who was blinking at Une. She still wasn’t looking up at the pilots.

“I apologize,” Chance noted, tossing Jordan at the line of the others. “We didn’t think our testing the machines would make such a fuss.”

“I knew that,” she muttered, not looking at them.

“We’ll leave you now,” Chance noted, looking the group of them over, then shoved Jordan at the door.

Jordan hadn’t had the chance to regain his composure, and the fact that he was slammed into Trent and Simone meant that they were both shoved out of his way. Quatre tsked irritably as he turned to follow, and Chance forced Jordan toward the door with another shove…

It’d been more than a year since it’d happened.

Jordan…snapped. As soon as he regained his balance, he launched himself snarling at Chance so they fell to the floor.

“Maxwell!” Simone wailed, dancing out of the way as Chance’s irritation reached the same level…

“Stay back,” Quatre hissed, pulling the girl away. “Just keep back…”

“But…” Simone started.

“They do this sometimes,” Trowa reassured her, pulling Trent and Max away by the elbows. “Usually takes more stress…”

“You know he sent Riley off somewhere,” Wufei protested. “I don’t know what’s going on with his five, but he’s been getting edgy lately…”

“Maxwell!” Une was shouting as she moved up behind. “Yuy!”

“You’re not going to help,” Trowa snapped at her, pulling Trent back even further. “Just keep back, they’ll finish in a second…”

“Simone!” Quatre protested.

They all more or less froze in horror as the blond girl ducked around her boyfriend…and threw herself on Chance’s arm, which had been drawn back for his next blow since he’d managed to get on top. He turned to focus on her in confusion…and she dropped her rear onto Jordan’s chest.

Chance backed off as Jordan dropped his head back, his chest still heaving. “Get off me,” he ordered her.

“Not until you’ve composed yourself,” she retorted.

“Get the fuck off me!” he snapped, grabbing her waist.

She turned…and did something that caused him to swear…vehemently.

“Simone!” Quatre protested, moving forward hesitantly.

“You bitch!” Jordan’s voice was completely indignant.

“Don’t touch her!” Quatre’s voice cracked as he moved forward…and caught sight of Jordan’s hand-cuffed hands.

He stopped and stared at that…but Jordan was running at the mouth, gesturing a bit wildly with both of his hands as Simone sat back from that, partially flinching.

Trowa laughed wickedly, moving forward himself, hesitant.

“Control yourself,” she snapped at him. “Control yourself and I’ll take them off!”

He informed her of exactly what he thought she was instead of doing anything that might be mistaken as helpful. It didn’t take him long to swear himself out, though, and then he was looking at the door to the exit.

“You done?” Simone asked almost acidly.

“Fuck you.”

“You’re a real asshole, you know that, Maxwell?”

“You’re so not getting any vacation for a year…fuck Quatre.”

“I should,” she retorted, nonplussed. “Lord knows, I wanna get laid.”

Chance sniggered.

Jordan focused on her, glaring.

“If you keep looking like that, your face will freeze that way,” Simone informed him maturely.

“Uncuff me, now,” he ordered.

“When you’re in control of yourself, I will,” she replied calmly.

“If you want any time off for the next ten…”

“I can quit your team, Maxwell,” she noted pointedly. “If you start being too much of a dick I’ll go find something more interesting to do.”

He stopped, frowning at her.

“Now, are you done?” she demanded, raising her key so he could see it.

He glowered at her a long moment, then huffed and looked away. “Yes.”

“Good,” she snapped, shoving the key in and causing it to click. “I was getting tired of sitting on you.”

“I could have thrown you,” he retorted, rubbing at his wrists as he sat up. “I should have.”

“Are you okay, Yuy?” she asked sweetly, turning her back on her superior to move in and touch Chance’s face. “You’re not bleeding too much,” she noted, running a finger along one eye. “You’ll have bruises though.”

“It happens,” he noted, avoiding her eyes.

“No, that wasn’t your fault,” she soothed him, moving so he’d meet her eyes. “You didn’t really provoke that.”

Chance sighed and shrugged, looking away from her again.

“Oh, so I should have just let him shove me?” Jordan demanded irritably. The fact that he knew part of it was jealousy was not helping his mood. He turned and gestured at her as he met Quatre’s eyes. “You don’t care about this shit? She’s all over there lovin’ on him…”

Simone tsked disgustedly, turning to look at Jordan with narrowed eyes.

He huffed and looked away.

Une was looking between all of them with an extremely annoyed expression on her face. “You know what?” she asked, causing them all to turn and look at her. “Get the fuck out of my office…now.”

They all studied her a long moment, then sighed and moved forward. Wufei leaned down and grabbed Jor’s wrist to pull him to his feet, then gave him a disgusted look when he instantly pulled away.

“You are so not going to be alone with Chai tonight,” Quatre informed him as they stormed into the hall. “She so doesn’t deserve your fucking attitude.”

“Like she’s done anything to piss me off,” Jordan retorted, trying to out-storm his comrade.

“That was a fairly smooth-move, princess,” Trowa noted, looking to Simone curiously.

Simone smiled slightly at him in response. “I’m the only girl in my family and the second to the youngest. My brothers get pissed at each other sometimes and letting them have it out isn’t an option.”

“Jor might make good his threat,” Wufei cautioned. “You might…”

“No,” Simone returned mildly. “Because then I’ll make good mine. He’s already got me more than halfway trained. It wouldn’t behoove him for me to walk out on him.”

“I think I love you,” Doug noted, moving up to drape an arm around her shoulder and give her a flirtatious look. “Wanna come home with me tonight?”

“I think my boyfriend is jealous enough, thank you,” she noted, brushing him off. “I didn’t mean anything, Chance,” she added, smiling somewhat innocently at him. “I just needed him jealous.”

“Of course you did,” Chance retorted, rubbing at his still bleeding lip. “Whatever.”

Simone grinned at him, then sighed. “I need to go calm Quatre down…”

The group of them watched her run off, then exchanged interested looks.

“Simone may be many things,” Max noted happily, “but boring isn’t one of them.”

“Minx seems to work,” Trent agreed, looking to his friend. “Maybe deceitful.”

“Shh,” Max whispered in return, pressing his index finger to his lips. “Don’t tell them or she’ll get mad.”

“Ooh, shit,” Trent agreed, looking around briefly before starting to walk faster.

Trowa gave Max a very level look…and Max grinned in response.