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"Five Boy Curry "Written By: Asymphototropic
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam wing. Author: Asymphototropic (attracted toward the
light, but never quite arrives there) Email: asymphototropic@aol.com Rating: NC 17 Warnings: language, yaoi, het Summary: sharing a blanket leads to storytime Pairings: 1x2, 11x2, others tba? Note: "Five Boy Curry" is an actual recipe I got from an in-law who grew up on a Philippine island. I was cooking some curry the other day and the name reminded me of the five gundam boys
" Five Boy Curry " Part 10. There came a scurrying of servants with steaming dishes. Divans and tables were placed artistically, since the five boys, having performed their servitude for the Empress, then were to partake of the viands. Snowy bowls of rice and the fragrant saffron curry were placed to be viewed optimally and their aromas savored. Then each of the beautiful young men was handed an ornate garnish dish. Trowa's carried juicy diced tomatoes, Quatre's, the purest white, shredded coconut. Wufei held a bowl of salted nuts, Heero a dish of mixed currants, golden and dark. And Duo grasped a porcelain jar of sweet and spicy chutney. "Remind me to award the chef a knighthood," Une told her vizier. Zechs chuckled at his mental vision of the rubicund rotund old man, kneeling before a conclave of the Empress' fiercest warriors for the traditional honors ceremony. "Perhaps a roasting skewer would be the appropriate weapon to tap upon his shoulders," the vizier suggested. Une smiled at the idea, but was too distracted by her view of the five beautiful boys presenting the toppings to comment further. Rendezvous with the trauma team occurred in brisk order. Quatre Winner had acted with his usual dictatorial brilliance. Without communication from Yuy, Quatre had been left to surmise that his vanished friend had hastily absconded with the most valuable WEI rescue vehicle in the fleet. For a mind of Winner's caliber, the conclusion was readily drawn, that Heero would arrive at the disaster site dangerously low on fuel. Further, that Yuy would find himself suddenly in need of medical experts. Quatre could only pray that those victims requiring doctors rather than morticians might include Une and Duo. Still, the young entrepreneur took enough time to supply the next departing shuttle with a plenitude of spare fuel, supplies and personnel before sending it to follow, in more stolid style, Yuy's reckless path. The luncheon had been a success. The chef had been called forth, to kneel before his Empress and receive her compliments. The jolly old fellow had felt much trepidation as his meal preparations had gone from serving an ordinary repast to arranging a major court event. His relief that it had been enjoyed was so palpable that it gave Une pause to reflect. The old man seemed so very eager to please. If his attitude were any indication of general sentiment, the Empress reflected that she must interact more with her palace staff in the future. Not to mention the rest of the people she ruled. The peacetime duties that she had prior contemplated with bored resignation seemed now to call to her. Perhaps there was something to be said for directing the affairs of a peaceful empire. An opportunity to tend to her people, to see to their more benign, mundane needs. She eyed the lovely presentation of dried fruits, formed into candied flowers, that served as dessert. Accompanied by a fragrant effervescent wine and tiny ceramic thimbles full of fiery apricot brandy. She noted with some amusement that the five beautiful boys, while partaking of the spirits, had gradually gone from disposition on multiple couches during the meal, to being cuddled all upon one divan by its culmination. Une tossed off a quick shot of the brandy, followed in leisurely fashion by the cool, sparkling wine. The Empress' view was caught by a sleek thigh. Zechs stood by her couch. He did not appear to be drinking. Une hesitated a moment. Then ran one finger along that fine stretch of leg. The flesh thereon trembled slightly. "My ever faithful vizier," she began. "Grand M'lady," came the ready reply. "It occurs to me that we have not yet designated a role for Duo in the upcoming Imperial Martial Competition. Of course he must be included in the event." She watched as the boys grinned at their friend, nudged him, and winked at each other, while the young gravedigger blushed down at the couch upholstery. "Perhaps, since he is already trained to the function, he should serve as assistant to the Palace Physician," Zechs suggested. "Bruises, scrapes and contusions of the combatants will need tending, even with the friendliest exchange of martial skills." "Perfect," the Empress purred. "You will enjoy that, wont you, Duo?" "Celestial Lady," the young gravedigger replied in somber tones. "It is generous, exceeding kindly. However, merely reflect, how unlucky it will be deemed by the participants, to have Death's Son in medical attendance at the event." " 'Tis a cruel designation. Henceforth, I shall forbid its use." "It is an ancient tradition, as I suppose, Supreme Lady. To believe that an orphan is sponsored by the God of Death. So that when he claims the last family members, the God becomes a sort of ultimate protector and patron of the abandoned child. "It seems more of a stigma that must be overcome than any sort of protection. Why don't you change job descriptions, my dearest mortician? You should become officially apprenticed to the doctor." "Alas, Finest Lady. The law of the Empire does not permit such a thing. Having no family member to vouch for my faithfulness to the service, nor pay the fees, nor sign the indentures, I cannot become apprenticed." "What?" the outraged Empress exclaimed. "Zechs, is this the case? Can an orphan, merely for want of family, actually not be trained to service? As a point of Imperial Law?" The Vizier smiled rather grimly. "Great M'lady, such is the poor state of things. Whereas the law of the land does not actually forbid the indenturing of orphans. The specifications and requirements of the apprenticeship process do, in effect, prevent such transactions from occurring." "That is awful. It is hideously unjust. Why has such a state been allowed to continue? It must be changed. And as soon as possible. You will see to it, my Grand Vizier. The law must be altered such that any willing adult may vouch for the responsible character of a youngster. And Imperial funds must be made available to pay the indenture fees, in the case of an orphan being sufficiently poor to need the assistance." "It shall be as you say, Fine My Great Lady. And to take effect at once." Zechs' eyes gleamed with a fire of approval that delighted Une. "And if Duo wishes his apprenticeship to the Palace Physician. He shall become the first ever of M'lady's subjects to receive the Imperial Largesse in this manner." A small cry sprang from the gravedigger's rosy lips. He had to squirm out from under the tangle of his friends' congratulatory caresses. And then, still clad only in a small towel wrapped around his waist, make the humblest obeisance to the Empress. With one hand clinging to his wrap, the young man knelt upon the tiles of the throne room, and touched his forehead to the floor. "It is surely the noblest, most generous ruling ever, in the entire history of the Empire," Duo exclaimed fervently. Yuy was ready to kill the Trauma Specialist. The medical commander glanced over the recording of Une's resuscitation history, spoke a concise set of instructions to his subordinate, and then turned with maddening calm toward the tank holding Duo Maxwell's body. The man whistled over the review he read. "Something of a scrapper, this one. Dead a half dozen times, but wont stay down." The doctor took a moment to study a comp close-up of the victim's wrecked hands. "He's been trying to claw his way out of the tank?" the soldier grinned sardonically at Yuy. Heero gulped upon the knot in his throat, but nodded an affirmative. "You must have wanted to set him free," the doctor persisted, as if prodding an abscessed wound with a sterile steel probe. "Yes," the young man glared at him. "It took balls to resist that urge." There seemed a grudging admiration in the physician's assessment. "Most people panic and interrupt the resusc program when they watch the patient climb into the 'terrors'. I've seen trained doctors make that mistake, plenty of times." "Aren't you going to do anything for him?" Yuy demanded angrily. The physician shrugged. "All in good time. There's no point in intervention between crises. The comp is faster, more analytical, less emotional with these multi-parameter cases. You might even argue that its the kid in the tank making the life and death decisions. And the comp is just facilitating the process. You committed him to the tank. We'll just have to see how that works out now." "Did I do right?" Heero just had to ask. Hated himself for the vulnerability. But he was desperate for reassurance. "Look, you made a choice. That's done." The doctor's pragmatism sounded sincere. "If the kid survives the tank, you made the right choice. But even if he dies, it doesn't follow you could have changed the outcome with a different decision. What we're going to do now is react to the progression of events. Do what my experience tells me is most useful as things happen. You can step down now. Understand?" Yuy sighed, nodded. Rested his aching forehead against the surface of the tank. It felt so cold.
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