Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ In the City at Night ❯ Fluff and Bother ( Chapter 7 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Fluff and Bother

"Um, no," Heero smiled sweetly at Une. "Our agreement was that I take him in, he makes his statement, and we take him back home. He agreed not to run..."

"He's a criminal, Yuy," Une noted almost sarcastically from where she stood beside her desk. "Of course he'll tell you what you want to hear."

"Ah, but Rico, Une..."

"Rico, Rico, Rico," she snapped, crossing her arms. "Private citizen my ass."

If she had any idea how close she really was to the truth, Heero wondered what she'd do. He ran his tongue along his teeth a moment as he considered her, then shrugged, "I'll stay with him."

"Rico?" Une asked blankly.

"No, with Breer," Heero retorted. "I'll keep his ass camped where I can grab him on a moment's notice—I'll even keep my phone on."

"I need you here," she said darkly. "I need you with Zechs."

"There's this amazing thing you have called a police force," Heero informed her, moving around the chairs to stand at her face. "And what you do is call the chief to you, and tell him that Zechs' life is to be safe-guarded. He does this thing then that sends everyone scrambling and Zechs camps out comfy in his home while he heals enough to take care of himself again. It's...amazing what civil servants can do, and what they're willing to do."

"You're making me cross," she informed him.

"Ma'am," he muttered, standing straight again.

She sighed, moving to sit behind her desk, "But you have a point."

"I should also mention we'll be coming up with more casualties from lower Angels," he noted, studying her with interest. "Rico knows the players club there-abouts. He can pinpoint who'd move against Breer first."

The leader let out a long sad sigh, "I wish Duo'd come back," she muttered seriously. "He'd have this figured out in three days," she crossed her arms and rested her head against them. "I'm getting too old for this, Heero. When is he coming back to us?"

"He's not," Heero informed her truthfully. "He's gone. Unfreeze his account and let him go. As far as I can figure, that'll bring him back in."

Une sat up, her eyes glowing, "I can trace his accounts! I can! And we could find him! You could go talk to him!"

"You know, you baby-sit our accounts more than enough," the soldier noted, sitting in a chair himself. "Should I remind you that we're twenty-three years old?"

She gave him a dirty look.

"Breer made his statement, and I'm sure he's getting nervous. He's cooperating with us fully, so I'm going to make good my word." He considered her eyes a long moment, "You would have agreed wholeheartedly with anything J...Duo suggested."

"He grew up on the streets," Une replied, sitting back. "He can work in any society by rules we'd never even begin to comprehend, and he'd pull it off flawlessly. That's what I prize about him, his versatility. You four are wonderfully skilled, but Quatre's...too nice," she thought a moment, then met his eyes. "You're emotionally distant, Wufei is...a warrior through and through...and Trowa is...fay. Duo melds with any community."

"Are you saying I couldn't do that?" Heero demanded, his mind instantly working out how he could assimilate himself into Jordan's society. "Are you saying I haven't been pulling off Duo-esque stunts since you failed to find him?"

"I'm saying that you'd be fine until someone tried to move in emotionally, friendship or otherwise. They'd realize that you're not truly present."

"I think I resent that," he noted, rising to his feet again.

"Which is exactly my point," she muttered, rising herself and gathering up papers to stuff into a file folder. "Give this to Edward and take Breer back to the dump. If you're so sure he won't run, you don't need to stay."

Heero smirked slightly as he wondered exactly how loyal to Jordan Jonathan was, then nodded his head. "Very well."

She saluted, "Dismissed...if you get blood on your hands, you'd better wash them thorough."

Heero considered pointing out to the woman that he'd be able to pull off ending her life without getting caught—he decided against it, though. It seemed inappropriate somehow. He saluted in return, turning crisply and moving from the room. He dropped the military manner as he moved into the lobby where Quatre and Trowa were sitting with their weapons in hand as Jon read a magazine.

The...citizen...looked up to Heero, looking him over seriously, "Ah, the great war hero returns."

"You're annoying," Heero informed him happily, then looked to Quatre. "You're too nice," he looked to Trowa. "And you're fay."

"What?" Trowa asked blankly.

"You're fay. Une said so herself."

Trowa gave him a disbelieving look, then moved through the door into the woman's office.

"Let's go," Heero added to the man. "Don't steal the magazine, that's tacky."

"You're rude," Jon noted, tossing the magazine to the seat.

"Actually, there's an article in that one I've been trying to read for a month now," Heero noted with a grin. "Jones!" he shouted to the office area. "Paperwork from the queen."

"What does she want now?" the man demanded, taking the folder Heero was carrying and blinking at the name on it. He saluted Heero respectfully, then turned to do his job.

"And we're gone," Heero muttered, linking arms with the man. "So tell me, how likely are you to run?"

"I have a bit of an urge," the man noted, considering it. "Why do you ask?"

"Because if I think you're going to run, I'm to stay with you. If I decide you're loyal to Jordan, I can come back."

"That's an interesting set of phrases," Jon noted, extending his hands as Quatre removed the tracking cuffs from his wrists.

"Une wants Jor back," Heero added to Quatre with a frown. "I'm trying to get her to unfreeze his accounts, but I think she'd baby-sit it."

"He has accounts?" Jon asked curiously. "I thought that was..."

"Oh, he has money," Heero reassured the man. "He invested early by advice of an older friend we've got. He doubled the money he put in fairly quickly, and now it's just sitting there collecting interest."

"How much money are we talking?" the kingpin demanded, startled as he realized how sincere the soldier was.

"Enough that he could buy the slums," Heero shrugged, "And still have money to rebuild."

"That wouldn't take much," Jon noted.

"But more an average citizen," Quatre pointed out. "I'm sure you've noticed that Jordan isn't an average man."

"Yeah," Jon smirked very slightly, then made a face. He turned his head back to Heero as the doors opened. "I'd give anything to see him happy. I've seen glimmers of it...but to see him truly happy..."

"I miss him," Heero admitted easily, leading the way toward his personal car. "We used to try Une's patience until she was about to pull her hair out and scream at us."

"Then why did you leave? Why did he leave?"

Heero shook his head sadly as Quatre looked to the tall windows of the building. "You have to do some things, Jon. We aren't gods."

Jon snorted slightly as he climbed into the car, "Could have fooled me."

Heero grinned slightly, sliding in himself, "Maybe we were trying to."

X x X x X

Jordan stared out the dirty windows of his apartment at the lowered darkness as the couple down the hall started shouting at each other again. "I thought you knew, in all honesty," he muttered, focusing on Chai again. "I've never been one to hide from a camera, and my braid is a signature."

"I thought it was a personal choice," she said quietly, still studying his face. "And I didn't think you were anymore than another person with dreams that would never come true."

He frowned slightly at her, "Our dreams will come true, Chai. Me and you..."

"That's what we say to get us through the day," she noted with a slight smile.

"Pessimist," he accused.

"Optimist," she shot back.

He smiled more at her and shrugged. "I really never thought it was something we needed to talk about. I mean...we don't talk about your life before me, so I just imagined we could leave my life before you alone."

"You imagined? You honestly thought I knew, but you imagined what I'd say?"

"I realized you didn't know," he noted, raising an eyebrow.

"Were you planning on telling me?"

"Yeah, when we were moving...when you wouldn't leave me." He gave her a wan smile as his leg throbbed. "In all honesty, I can't imagine my life without you. Everything I've done for the past four years...is for you."

She smiled at him, moving to crawl onto his lap, "Can we say it now?"

"Say what?" he muttered, not quite looking at her.

"You're mine," she informed him, kissing him lightly. "You've been mine...and I've been yours. Let's drop the just-friends crap."

"I don't want..."

"I don't care what you want right now," she noted, sitting up to study his eyes.

He gave her a reproachful look.

"I'll move my things into your room," she informed him happily, bouncing across the living room into her bedroom.

Jordan stared, trying to piece together exactly what had happened. Every time he thought he was getting somewhere, though, pain would distract him.

"Take the pills," Chai suggested, moving back to him with a cup of water he hadn't seen her get. "I know you don't like how they make you loopy, but they'll help."

The ex-pilot blinked at her, then shook his head. "I want to know what happened as soon as I can."

"You can't even listen right now," she retorted. "You're focusing internally."

He focused on her again, then swallowed the water she was pouring into his mouth—he realized too late that she'd given him the pills, then started laughing weakly.

Chai giggled, kissing him, "I'll make them stay here, okay? I'll freak out if I have to so they stay. You're really not worth anything with these meds."

That got her another look, and she crawled onto his lap, pulling the blanket he'd been covering with over them both. "You asked me to exist with you and not freak out," she noted. "I'll exist with you and not freak out, but you'd better make concessions. Your high and mighty principles are a bit inconvenient."

Jordan started laughing at that, wrapping his arms around her...who knew? He got his friends back, got shot, and got a girlfriend for it...maybe he could get his money.

Maybe there was a way to get his money out of her account and into one of his own.

That had potential.

X x X x X

Jordan looked about to pass out as Heero led Quatre and Jon into the apartment. He semi-focused happily unfocused eyes on the group, then indicated Chai. "'s my girlfriend."

"We...knew that," Quatre noted.

"No!" Jordan laughed, which caused the girl to stir. "Look in her room!"

Heero blinked at that, then took the step or two to see the...room? There didn't appear to be anything wrong with it. One of the blankets had been taken from the bed...no, her little things were gone.

The pilot blinked.

Jordan laughed. "She promised to exist with me," he noted, then focused on Jon.

"So you're gonna stop being a slut?" Jon asked, pretending to be crestfallen.

"Sorry, baby," Jordan agreed, then started laughing.

"So...what?" Quatre asked Chai seriously.

"We were talking," she explained, sitting up. "He noted a few things about doing everything for me, and since we were on the topic, I noted that we really weren't just-friends." The girl shrugged, rising to her feet. "I also promised him to make you lot stay until the tranqs wear off."

"All right," Heero agreed, moving to sit on the chair as he studied her. "So that means that room's free, right?" he pointed at the spare.

She smiled at him.

"He's a criminal," Heero noted, pointing at Jon. "I'm staying here for the duration of the legal proceedings. Trowa and I both heard his story, and we both reported on it back at base. Une agreed to let me keep an eye on him." He thought a moment as the woman down the hall shouted something and the man shouted something back. "Um...hold on a minute," he suggested, then moved toward the door.

"What are you doing?" Quatre protested, moving to follow.

"Nothing," Heero lied happily, shutting the door.

They all exchanged curious looks, though Jordan's was a bit more bemused. Everyone jumped slightly as a door slammed open and cracked. The arguing couple fell silent, and after a long moment, they heard Heero's low voice saying something.

Jordan started laughing.

"I could really use him," Jon noted, focusing on Jordan's unseeing eyes. "You sure he'd double on me?"

"Huh?" Jordan returned in confusion.

"Nothing," Jon muttered, starting to laugh a bit. "I...can I sit down?"

"Your ass hurt or something?" Jordan returned.

Chai started giggling and gestured to the couch and chair. "Sorry, everything's happening really fast right now."

The man snapped something, and Heero raised his voice more. The woman attempted to screech something, and there was the sound of movement...and a heavy thud.

The woman and man both fell silent.

"I'm not putting up with your shouting," Heero informed them both clearly. "The walls here are too thin. If you're that angry at each other, leave."

"It's not that simple," Chai noted quietly.

The door slammed shut and cracked again, and they waited the few moments for Heero to move into the room again, shaking his head.

"Want me to get them evicted?" Jon offered.

"Get them evicted?" Heero asked, raising an eyebrow. "What kind of eviction?"

"The kind where they move away," Jon smirked at him. "I don't kill all the time."

"You do too," Jordan retorted.

Jon waved him off, shrugging at Heero. "I owe you something, and I'm gonna keep offering shit until you accept."

"Get me someone who knows Angels and won't talk," Heero shrugged. "I have a few people to dispose of here shortly, and the boy-toy there's a bit worthless."

"Boy-toy," Jordan started laughing. "You used to call me that all the time, you know that?"

Heero grinned slightly at him, looking back to Jon.

"Now I really am curious about how he used to be," the kingpin noted, studying the half-present former-soldier.

"The god of death?" Jordan asked, looking dreamily to the ceiling. "The prodigal son? Satan's sock-puppet?"

Chai burst out laughing at that.

"Dear god," Jon muttered as Heero rolled his eyes. "Do I even want to know?"

"We had a few bi friends," Heero explained with a laugh. "Combine the seventeen year old mentality with complete lack of homophobia, and you can get some fucked up jokes."

"So that's why he's never even blinked at me?" Jon asked, seeming startled. "I'm bi," he added, studying the guy.

"I kinda noticed," Heero muttered as if he were imparting a possibly painful secret. "I mean...you tried to get him to pimp me for you."

Jon started laughing.

"No, he wanted me to sell you to him, there's a difference." Jordan's eyes focused a brief moment, and he looked around, "Where are the rest?"

Heero shrugged, "They might show up, they might not. I'm gonna claim Chai's room. I'll stay with you."

"You askin'?" Jordan retorted, his eyes still focused.

"I'm saying," Heero gave him a challenging look.

"Well, in that case..." Jordan trailed off, blinking a few times. "Wow...I'm tired."

"Lucid moments must be exhausting," Quatre noted in amusement.

"He took the pills about twenty minutes ago," Chai explained, looking to her watch. "Come on, Jor...you should go to bed now."

"Probably," he agreed, rubbing his arms slightly. "It's cold in here."

"I got him," Heero muttered, moving around the coffee table to assist his friend to his feet. "Come on...you'll be warmer if you put a shirt on."

"I don't have any clean," Jordan muttered.

"You did laundry like...two days ago," Heero protested.

Jordan laughed a bit, "Take a look around you, buddy-boy. You're in hell."

Heero looked to Quatre a moment, then assisted his friend toward the bedroom. He didn't have anything to say on the comment, but he was confused why Chai hadn't told them Jor only had a few shirts. She'd been sure on the pants, but...and he couldn't just ask her what he needed, because by this point she'd have gathered he'd buy it.

The ex-pilot situated himself on the bed, then focused his slightly deranged looking eyes on his old friend. "Tuck me in, daddy."

Heero snorted and tucked the blankets around his friend.

"I know I don't say it," Jordan muttered in a serious tone. "But it's nice to have you back."

The soldier ruffled his friend's hair, "I missed you."

"Maybe when all this is over..." Jordan trailed off.

"Maybe," Heero agreed, turning away from the sleeping man to move back into the living room.

"I hate maybe," Quatre muttered, pulling out his car keys and turning toward the front door. "I'm getting our shit. I'll be back."

X x X x X

"It all came to a head when Une realized I'd had a few too many beers," Heero noted the next night as he and Jon sat in the room above the bar. "The only thing that was wrong about the entire ordeal was that I decided about three seconds early to hit the button. Of course," he added, "it might just have been that Daniel was three seconds too late. We'd been going one for one. He got a tad bit singed."

Jonathan shook his head, offering the pilot a beer he'd just opened from the small fridge under a window. "That's insane."

"No, what was insane," Heero noted, "was Une's livid lecture. She was all over the map on it. She finally ended with her custom 'I wish Duo were here,' and went off to cry."

"She says that?" Jon was startled.

"All the time," Heero rolled his eyes. "She's got him on some kind of pedestal or something. He's the kinda guy that can go into a place and be completely accepted in about an hour. She wanted him to become an intelligence agent, but she could never get him to cut off that damn braid."

Jon grinned at that, taking a drink as he thought. "He does that kind of shit," he noted. "Jor's always working his way into fine seams. On a professional level, it makes me jealous. All my competitors want him."

"You're his friend, though," Heero reassured the man. "His first loyalty is to his family, no matter where that happens to be. He always needs somewhere to go home to at the end of the day."

"Yeah," Jon agreed, focusing out the windows. "It took me about six months to get him to accept my getting him crap here. I have a tab, and told the bartenders to put him on it. He used to freak out about not paying for his shit."

"He's got some issues with charity, and to his mind, they're good reasons." Heero focused out the window himself. "See, every time he lets someone help him, they end up getting hurt or in trouble."

"You make him act different," Jon muttered quietly, looking to the tired looking male sitting at a table with the others of the group. "He laughs more with you."

"I can't imagine him not laughing," Heero noted, rising and moving to look out the window himself. "I can't imagine him not being happy. He was always so optimistic that it made me sick before...and then that was gone."

"Is he more than...a friend?" Jon asked quietly, studying the male's back. "What I mean is..."

Heero turned to grin slightly at him and shrug. "I was raised as a weapon—emotionless. I didn't know a thing about emotions when the wars ended. I had regret, excitement...fear. Most of all fear. Full dark freaked me out, sudden movements sent me to my feet with a gun...loud noises made me duck and cover. The more removed from the actual fighting we got, the more panicked I'd get. He basically held my hand and led me through it." He shook his head, studying the man, "He helped me get my first girlfriend, then helped me when we broke up. He helped me hit college, and talk Une into letting us drop it...speeches, face-to-face meetings...everything. From about sixteen to when we busted, he was never more than ten feet away from me."

"And then he was gone," Jon noted, studying the guy. "Talk about your culture shock."

Heero sighed and nodded, "Yeah...and now he's back." The guy focused out the window again, "And I honestly can't tell if that's a good thing or a bad one."

There was a knock on the door and Heero noted that Jordan was studying the wall seriously with his eyes flicking to the bottom of the stairs.

"Enter," Jon called, rising to his feet.

Heero pulled his gun, raising it to an approximate head height without looking in the direction.

"You wanted me?" a man asked, moving into the room...and freezing as he noted the gun.

"This is Erin Smith," Jon returned. "I've hired him to do a bit of cleaning for me. He needs a guide, though," the kingpin moved around the couch and touched Heero's wrist lightly. The pilot lowered the gun, focusing toward the man with his best emotionless expression. "Are you interested?"

"If I'm not?"

"I've hired him to do some cleaning up for me," Jon returned, shrugging slightly.

Jordan rested back where he was sitting, focusing on his companions seriously.

Heero cocked the weapon.

"I didn't say no!" the guy said instantly, practically jumping to extend Jon his hand. "Half fee..."

"Don't be ridiculous," Jon muttered pleasantly. "You get your full fee, but only half before the job is done."

"If you get in my way," Heero informed him coldly, "I'll kill you. What do I call you?"

The guy swallowed, looking him over—he froze when Heero un-cocked his weapon, then glanced to Jon.

"His name is Monty, Erin," Jon noted with a slight grin. "Treat him well, he's my sister's lover. I get upset when she gets upset."

"Very well," Heero said smoothly, pretending not to notice the man's startled look. "I'm going back downstairs." He started for the door.

"Erin?" Jon asked curiously.

Heero paused.

"Tonight or tomorrow night?"

"Either," Heero returned. "I just need the hard numbers and I'm ready to go."

"Very well," Jon half-purred, "be ready, then."

Heero flashed him a cold smile, "I'm always ready."

Jonathon watched the man move down the stairs, then focused on his sister's boyfriend. "So...Carter, how are you?"